Sin & Magic (Demigods of San Francisco Book 2)

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Sin & Magic (Demigods of San Francisco Book 2) Page 2

by K. F. Breene


  I eyed the clock. I had a few hours before my first real business meeting. More time than I’d ever taken to get ready for anything. But it felt important to create an impression today—something to set the tone for my business relationship with Kieran. I needed to look business savvy and experienced, as well as competent and confident. Most of all, I needed to look independent and aloof.

  I didn’t need him for anything. I could survive on my own. I’d been doing it since my mother had died six years ago. And I certainly wasn’t hung up on his core tightening appearance, his incredible charm, and his awe-inspiring strength and power. I would show him that none of those things fazed me, and I was in it for the job. End of story.

  2

  Alexis

  A firm rap sounded at the door and butterflies exploded in my stomach.

  “It’s that tough guy who won’t fight,” yelled Frank, my miserable excuse for security. He was great at watching and reporting what went on outside my door—even though he either didn’t know, or refused to use, names—but given that he was a ghost, and couldn’t do anything, physically, about trespassers, he wasn’t ideal for protection.

  “He means Zorn,” I mumbled to myself. Zorn was one of Kieran’s Six, a group of guys who had given some sort of blood oath to protect Kieran.

  I gave myself a once over in the mirror, straightening my second-hand suit top before sliding my palms down the badly ironed fabric over my thighs. With the pad of my middle finger, I corralled a loose strand of blonde hair back into the bun at the back of my head. I’d debated wearing my hair long, but for a professional and, dare I say, uptight look, a bun felt more appropriate.

  I took a deep breath, checking my nearly nonexistent eye makeup and extremely light coat of pink lip gloss, when the front door burst open. I startled and stuck my head out of the bathroom.

  Daisy trudged through the front door with a red face dripping with sweat. Mordecai followed, his dark skin shining and his expression pulled down with fatigue.

  I grinned and strode down the hall. “Hard workout today?”

  “Wuh—water,” Daisy managed.

  Mordecai nodded grimly, tripping on nothing and staggering into the kitchen.

  “Why is Zorn here already?” I heard Daisy ask Mordecai. Then: “Get off,” followed by a grunt. She’d likely elbowed him.

  Zorn filled the doorway. Over six feet tall and with a solid frame, his grim face and muscular body would give pause even to the battle-hardened. Neither the perfectly tailored, pristine suit he wore nor the expensive watch wrapped around his wrist did anything to detract from the murder and violence that raged in his stare. One look made a person’s spine turn to jelly.

  I hid it easily. I was used to being the least powerful person in the room, whether in the magical world or among non-magical Chesters, people who thought magical people should all be burned at the stake like in old days.

  “Hey,” I said, stalling at the kitchen entrance. “Almost ready.”

  Frank, the front yard poltergeist who stood behind Zorn with a puffed-out chest, nodded. Clearly he thought I was talking to him.

  “They’ve got the girl fighting, did you know that?” Frank asked, stepping closer to Zorn as though they were buddies. A look of unease crossed Zorn’s face. He couldn’t see Frank, but he could feel his presence. It was a disconcerting feeling if you weren’t used to it. “Girls fighting! Imagine that.”

  “I know,” I said, stepping into the kitchen to grab my water bottle out of the fridge. “She’s been training all week.”

  “What?” Mordecai asked, sagged against the counter with both hands wrapped around a glass of water. He was one year older than Daisy, and used to be just as skinny. After a single week of training, the muscles in his arms were more defined and a spark of confidence burned brightly in his light hazel eyes. The training, given for free by members of the Six, was really improving him, both physically and mentally.

  Just another way Kieran had wormed into my life, improving it for the better. He had a good game, I’d give him that.

  The cunning bastard.

  “Frank,” I said by way of explanation, rolling my eyes and heading back toward the door.

  “You’ve got to put a stop to that nonsense,” Frank said, now edging around Zorn to get closer to the door.

  I crossed the entryway to grab my chief prize, a Burberry medium buckle tote, in pink! It was the only piece of fashion I owned, given as payment for speaking to Kieran’s deceased mother, something the other Ghost Whisperers he’d hired hadn’t been able to do. I prized it above all other inanimate objects. It spoke of lavish lifestyles, classy people, and expensive vacations. And it was mine!

  “Women shouldn’t be fighting like men! It’s unseemly,” Frank went on, shoving himself in front of Zorn.

  “Women can do whatever they damn well please,” I told Frank, slipping the fantastic bag onto my shoulder, admiring its weight. A smile crept up my face, my annoyance at Frank drifting away.

  I was wearing a Burberry. A Burberry! First-tier fashion rested on my arm. My mother was probably turning over in her grave with envy.

  “A woman’s place is in the home, looking after the children,” Frank returned. Zorn glanced around him, and though he was a hardened man who seemed immune to danger…he took a giant step back.

  “She doesn’t have any children,” I told Frank, filing Zorn’s weakness away.

  “Then she should be seeing to her studies and helping you around the house.”

  “Frank, may I remind you that your views of the world are out of date. You know, given that you’re dead.” His expression soured at my words. He thought pointing out his lack of an earthly body was a low blow. Luckily, I didn’t much care. “If Daisy wants to learn to fight, she can.”

  “Is that ghost telling Lexi that I shouldn’t be allowed to train with you?” I heard Daisy say incredulously. She must’ve gotten a nod because she went on. “For the first time in my life, I wish I could see that miserable sonuvabitch.” She raised her voice. “Tell him that I just beat Mordecai in two out of three fights. Girls can not only fight, but when trained correctly, they can fight damn well. Actually, just banish that miserable bastard.”

  “I said you could fight, not swear, Daisy,” I berated.

  “You only win because you fight dirty,” Mordecai said.

  “You’re bigger, getting stronger every day, and a guy. Of course I fight dirty, you donkey. If I didn’t, you’d wipe the floor with me. Do you think enemies are all a lovely bunch of fluffy unicorns who care about rules? The real world is a shitty place, Mordecai. A real shitty place. There is no place for morals when you’re fighting for your life, there is only staying alive.”

  Daisy had been in and out of the non-magical orphanage and foster care system since she was little, exposed to horrors I couldn’t even imagine. Her self-proclaimed miracle was me finding her on the streets and taking her in. She claimed she was living her dream—a fact that made my heart squish with both happiness and sadness. She was a bright, loyal kid with so much to offer. She deserved more than the half-life I was able to provide.

  I took a deep breath and sucked it up. This new job would hopefully remedy that a little. With more money, I could buy them things most people took for granted. Like heating.

  “It’s just practice,” Mordecai mumbled.

  “It’s never just practice,” Daisy returned.

  “Don’t mind her,” I told Zorn. I glared at Frank, who wisely backed away to give me room. He didn’t like when I forced him. “The practices have amped her up a little.”

  Zorn turned sideways so I could pass, his expression thoughtful. “She’s correct. She’s what, fourteen?”

  “Fourteen going on fifty, yeah.” I shut the door behind me and motioned for Zorn to lead the way.

  He swept his hand toward the sidewalk. “Ladies first.”

  I tried to hide a pleased smile. I’d been called an awful lot of things in my life, but lady was seldom one o
f them. The suit was a winner. Or maybe it was the Burberry…

  Jack, the member of the Six who cooked for us the most, waited off to the side with his enormous arms glistening in the sunlight. His hands were braced on his hips and his sculpted chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

  “How is the girl doing?” Zorn asked him as we passed.

  I frowned. Zorn didn’t usually take an interest in the kids. He was the only one of the Six who never helped them train.

  Jack’s eyebrows lifted and a grin lit his face. “She’s a feisty little cheat. You teach her something, and she somehow finds a way to twist it into a new move that you”—he held up his thumb—“didn’t see coming, and”—he held up his first finger—“didn’t realize would hurt so much. She’s a firecracker.”

  Zorn looked back at the closed front door, the small crease between his brows the only indication he was thinking and not powering down like a robot.

  “What?” I asked.

  As if coming out of a trance, he shifted his gaze to me. His expression wiped clear before hardening. “Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

  Without another word, he held out a set of car keys before stalking toward a black BMW parked behind my rusty old Honda.

  “Just look at her, all sweaty and—she looks like a drowned rat,” Frank said as Daisy led Mordecai out of the front door.

  “Frank, can it, will ya?”

  “Is he still talking about me?” Daisy planted her fists on her hips. “I wish I had the power to banish him. He’d be gone so fast…”

  Zorn looked at her while standing next to the Beemer with the keys held out. He didn’t say a word.

  “No wonder Daisy calls you a zombie,” I said to Zorn. I snapped my fingers at him. When that didn’t yield a response, I pushed the keys back toward his body. “You can drive. Let’s go.”

  Impatience crossed his features. He jingled the keys. “This is your car. It’s a signing bonus for a high-level contract. Demigod Kieran must uphold his reputation.”

  “Oh my God, what did he just say?” Daisy stalked forward, fatigue draining away.

  Mordecai followed. “But you haven’t signed anything yet. And he knows you like designer labels. This might be another attempt at a leash, Alexis. He’s good at manipulation.”

  “Yours isn’t even a high-level contract,” Daisy said, crossing her arms over her chest. “For him, it’s mediocre, at best. What’s his game, here? Is he trying to bamboozle you with this freaking awesome car he has to know we’d all love?”

  “All good insights and questions.” I pushed Zorn’s hand again. “Let’s hold off until I sign the contract, mmkay? We can easily write in something that denotes a company car. One that actually fits in around here. Because I’m not sure if you’re aware, but this isn’t a nice neighborhood. A car like this will stick out.”

  “Guys popping in and out of bushes sticks out,” Frank mumbled, looking over the car.

  He did have a point. People probably thought I was a drug dealer. The car wouldn’t help.

  “Come on, we can go in my car.” I ticked my head at the Honda.

  Disgust crossed Zorn’s face. “I’m not riding in that.”

  “Oh well…” Daisy dropped her hands. “Look at you, Mr. Fancy Pants, in your high-dollar suit and your ‘I’ll cut a bitch’ eyes. Too good for your origins, huh?”

  Zorn zeroed in on her again, and while many would’ve flinched under that flat stare filled with malice, she didn’t so much as blink. Apparently, she had pieced together more about him than I’d ever tried to.

  He snapped the keys into a newly closed fist and turned toward the BMW. “I’ll drive.”

  “You could’ve saved us the argument and driven in the first place.” I winked at the kids and reached for the door handle.

  “Wait—” Daisy held out her hands before looking down at herself, then back at the house. “If he’s changed something, I need to see it. You cave too easily, Lexi, you know you do. He’ll add in some bonus that’ll help Mordie or me, and you’ll go along with whatever horrible thing he’s trying to trap you into doing.”

  I held up a hand to stop what I knew was coming. “There is no way you’re getting into this car looking like that. If it becomes mine, I don’t want sweat stains.”

  “Simply unsavory,” Frank muttered.

  “It’s leather. It’ll just wipe off,” Mordecai said reasonably.

  “No.” I wiggled my finger at Daisy as Zorn sat into the driver’s seat.

  “Get in,” Zorn barked. “We’re three minutes behind schedule.”

  “See?” I tapped my bare wrist. “The robot is worried about his schedule. I’ll just have to go alone. How will I manage?”

  I got into the passenger’s side.

  “This isn’t wise,” Mordecai said. “You’re not good at this type of stuff, Lexi. Which is why you’re in this situation in the first place.”

  “When I was young, children were seen and not heard,” Frank said.

  “Just go.” I slammed the door with a pleasing cush and breathed in the delicious new car smell. “Go. The longer we stick around, the more likely they are to force their way into the car.”

  “You let those kids rule you.” Zorn slid the car in gear and moved away from the curb.

  “Not rule me so much as…keep me from doing anything harebrained.”

  “You’re not a great authority figure.”

  “Gee thanks, Zorn. Wow. What a great insight. It really warms my heart.”

  “It’s a good thing. Kids in their situation need to be hard. You’ve forced them to be independent, while shrouding them in a loving environment. You’ve created a strong pack mentality— your success is their success, and vice versa—and your bumbling and incompetence have forced them to be leaders and caregivers themselves. Their sense of responsibility will help them get ahead. They’ll be the top of their trade.”

  Heat pricked my eyes at what he said about the kids. The sting of the insult lowered my brow. For someone who was usually silent, he sure knew how to pick his words for maximum impact. “That was a good backhanded compliment, Zorn. On a related note, you don’t have many friends, do you?”

  His jaw clenched.

  At the end of the street, I expected him to take a right, heading toward the magical zone. Instead, he took a left, which would take us farther into the dual-society zone.

  San Francisco was divided into three zones—magical, where magical people lived under the rule of Demigod Valens and the magical governing body, non-magical, where only those without magic resided, and what I called the crack between the societies, the dual-society zone.

  Neither government really cared what went on in the no-man’s land between the magical and non-magical zones. It was a crusty place without a lot of money or curb appeal. Generally, criminals, poor people, and outcasts lived in the crack.

  “Are you taking me somewhere to kill me, you sly dog?” I said with mock humor.

  “If only,” he answered.

  Shivers washed over my body. When it came to Demigod Kieran, surprises were dangerous. They put me off-balance, which meant he was more likely to get what he wanted.

  I hated when Daisy was right.

  3

  Alexis

  We stopped in front of a ramshackle building with five ground-level doors and three “available for lease” signs. On the other side of the street, sand from the beach spilled out onto the sidewalk and into the gutter. Blue sky stretched over the crisp blue of the ocean. This was the edge of nowhere—a dirty beach, deep into the dual-society zone, where few people would willingly hang out.

  “What’s this?” I asked, not reaching for the door handle.

  He paused in getting out. “Your new headquarters. Demigod Kieran wants to keep you under the radar for your own protection. Setting up an office in this part of town should help with that goal.”

  “Well then, yes. It is very clear he bought me this expensive car with his reputation in mind. I can see t
he correlation.”

  “Your sarcasm is draining.”

  “So is your face, Oh Expressionless Wonder. I’d say we’re even.”

  He grunted and stood from the car. I sighed and did the same.

  Part of me was intensely relieved. I’d avoided the magical zone my whole life. My motivations had changed, but my aversion was no less intense. I was about to tamper in Valens’s business, so I was all too happy to stay out of his territory.

  The other part of me was really annoyed, because if I didn’t have a high dollar office to report to, why the hell would I need a high dollar car? It felt like confirmation Kieran was trying to sweeten me up for something, and I’d probably have to refuse out of principle.

  I gazed at the car wistfully. The kids were right, I really did love designer labels.

  “You coming?” Zorn barked, standing at the leftmost door in the decrepit building. A piece of yellow police tape fluttered not far away, trapped in a straggly bush.

  “Jesus. Give a girl a moment to collect her thoughts.” I positioned my handbag just so, lifted my chin to show my confidence, and strutted forward like I was in complete control of all things.

  Kieran needed me more than I needed him. Now that Mordecai’s illness had been cured, the kids and I could scrape by. But without me, Kieran’s mother would continue to be trapped in the world of the living. I needed to remember who had the upper hand, and use that to my advantage—or at least as a means of bolstering my confidence.

  But as soon as I walked through the door and into the office, all of that washed away.

  Kieran stood at the back of a small but lavish room, wearing a white T-shirt and faded blue jeans that hugged his muscular body. Raven hair, cut short on the sides and longer on top, matched the color of his regal, high-arching eyebrows. A narrow nose ended above luscious and shapely lips that softened his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, turning severe into ruggedly handsome. Incredibly ruggedly handsome.

  Large shoulders stretched the white cotton, pulling at the seams. Cut pecs stood out over his flat stomach, which I knew from (brief) experience was a glorious six-pack bordering on an eight-pack. Powerful thighs gave those jeans something to show off.

 

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