Sin & Magic (Demigods of San Francisco Book 2)

by K. F. Breene

Fabulous.

  Rhythmic, soft buzzing rattled my bones. Bria’s phone.

  I squeezed my hands into fists, hoping to God it was a booty call, or a telemarketer, or anyone else but Mordecai telling us to get out. Nervous anticipation of being found weakened my bladder, a horrible side effect to my trying for secrecy. I would make a terrible spy.

  A careful footstep entered the room and my bladder threatened to give out. The buzzing cut off abruptly. I held my breath.

  Murky silence filled the room with expectation.

  Then a deeper buzzing began to roll through the floor as a soft hum permeated the walls. The feeling crawled up through my body. Was it magic? A trap being set somewhere?

  Leather shoes squeaked and shoe soles squealed as the man turned. His footsteps retreated from the room.

  I held my position. He might have pretended to leave to draw us out. Daisy did that all the time.

  “Come on,” Bria whispered, hurrying to the door.

  Clearly she didn’t have a Daisy in her life.

  “What if he comes back?” I rose up just enough to look over the chest.

  She braced her hand on one half of the double door and leaned out. She shook her head slightly and stepped farther out.

  Movement from the other end of the room caught my attention. The older man who’d given us directions earlier stood at the back wall in the corner, his hands at his sides.

  “The owner is home,” he said. If only the words were attached to a string, I’d rush over there and give them a yank to get them out faster. “He will change in his quarters before taking a brandy in the parlor. Often he stops in here to marvel. I suggest you get out.”

  “I would love to get out, but he’s downstairs, and we’re upstairs,” I whispered. “I can’t fly.”

  I repeated his warning to Bria. “This is okay. This is fine.” She held her hand out to still me, or calm me, or maybe stop the world from turning, I couldn’t be sure. “There are a million rooms in this house. We’ll hide in a guest room. Mordecai can bring the cadaver to the window below us. I’ll slap a soul in it, turn it loose, and we’ll escape while Valens is looking into the commotion.”

  It was bad when animating a dead body sounded like a great course of action.

  “There’s one problem…” I bit my lip, my mind racing. “If he gets even remotely close to me, he’ll sense my magic. Kieran could.”

  Bria’s head turned slowly until she was staring at me with oh shit eyes. The expression cleared in an instant, replaced by determination. “That’s fine. That’s okay. There’s a third floor in this beast. You go up there and hide in a freaking broom closet, if you have to. Go way to the back and wish for Narnia. I’ll find a room with a window somewhere on this floor. Any higher, and I won’t be able to work with the cadaver. I’ll get that dead body tearing up the flower pots and draw Valens out of the house. You get to the backyard. Jump the fence into another backyard—you’re tall, that’s in your wheel house. Hey, go crazy and jump a few fences. Get out to the street and run like hell. Yes? We got this. I’ve been in worse situations. Not with a Demigod, but hey, I’m open to upping the stakes.”

  It was a shitty plan, but my mind went blank to any alternatives.

  “Crap,” I said, standing. The first stages of panic shook my limbs. I licked my lips and forced away the fear. “Okay.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Have faith.”

  She darted out of the room, hurrying left, away from the stairs.

  I was hurrying to the doorway when I heard, “This way is safer.”

  The man pointed at the bookcase. I slowed, because even though he was operating at half normal speed, his brain seemed to be functioning fine.

  “Which way is that?” I asked.

  “I don’t have the energy to open it. This room used to be bigger. Somewhere along the way, they cut it up to allow for a larger hidden chamber. I never understood why, myself, because it’s awfully dark in the hidden halls, but—”

  “What hidden halls?” I made circular motions with my hand. “Get to the point, man!”

  “This house is riddled with secret passages. Magical people have been persecuted for centuries. Burned, staked, left for dead—”

  “Yes, yes, what about the halls?”

  “You can enter the passages here. One leads to the carriage house, but a cabinet blocks the way now. It’s a large—”

  “Do you mean the garage?”

  “I’m…not sure.”

  “Just…” I flapped my hand, trying to get this conversation to move faster. My heart set a fast drumbeat in my chest. “Does Valens—the owner of the house—use it very often?”

  “Oh no, why would he? Magical people are out in the world now. It’s a whole new day. I wish I’d lived to see it. Lived to live it—”

  “Right, right. Yeah, yeah.”

  “People have come and gone. Come and gone. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone use the halls in…” His face closed down in confusion. The thought of all that passing time had shut down his train of thought.

  “Cool. Awesome. How do I get into the halls?”

  “Oh. Well…” As he turned toward the bookshelf, deep voices echoed down the main hall.

  Valens was coming.

  “Hurry, hurry, hurry. Go, go, go!” I pushed in right next to the man, willing his hand to go faster as he moved it through the air, stretching a finger out to point. Finally, it stopped in front of a slight groove. Beside it ran a larger than normal crack between the bookshelves.

  “I’ll be damned,” I said, ready for him to push aside so I could get to work.

  His pointer finger was on the move again, though, dropping through the air and drifting left, toward the opposite side of the shelf with the groove. Down near the bottom, on the end next to the tighter crack, a tiny inlet allowed enough room for three fingers.

  “Push, and pull,” the man said. “You push…” His finger started back to the other side.

  The voices in the main hallway increased in volume, two men talking. They were climbing the stairs. Coming this way. “I got it,” I whisper-shouted. “Move. Move!”

  With shaking hands, I slid over and stuck my thumb on the groove, reaching into the small hole with my other hand to feel around for something that screamed “open the secret entrance this way!” My middle finger slid across a raised area that moved slightly when pressed. A button!

  “I got it,” I whispered, adrenaline pumping through my blood.

  The loudness of the voices increased, and through the tangle of words I could swear I heard “smell.”

  “Shit, shit, shit, shit…” I pressed the groove as hard as I could and a little slat in the wood that I hadn’t even noticed toggled downward.

  “That is not proper language for a young lady…” the old man said in disapproval.

  “When my life is in danger, the very last thing I am is a fucking lady.” I jabbed the button as hard as I could. My nail bent back painfully. The voices increased in the hallway.

  “Bugger fuckballs, come on!” I contemplated abandoning my efforts and diving behind one of the many horrible attractions in the room. The voices were right on me, now, nearly at the top of the steps. A deep baritone rolled down the hall.

  The man moved in to help. “If you’ll just—”

  The button clicked. The hidden door popped. The crack grew wider.

  Heart in my throat, I yanked it open, grimacing at the mournful wail of old, unused hinges. When the opening was big enough, I slipped in, scraping myself against a jagged piece of metal.

  The voices paused, possibly because they’d heard the noise. If I’d had more time, I would’ve waited to close the hidden door, but they were right down the hall.

  Gritting my teeth, I pulled the door toward me, my hand brushing against cold metal. A handle. I gripped it and pulled harder, the squeal raking across my bones. Wood groaned. Something clicked. Darkness enveloped me.

  21

  Kieran

  Kieran stood
at the windows in the west sitting room, staring out at the sparkling ocean. The view took his breath away, easily the very best thing about his father’s house. It made the odd choice of décor almost bearable. It also had a way of melting his stress and loosening his shoulders, allowing him a few quiet moments of harmony.

  His phone vibrated once in his pocket, a text or email.

  Jogged from the quiet moment, he pulled the device out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Jack’s name came up— That hellion dosed me. I just woke up face-first in the weeds. The girls are on the loose and the shifter kid is with them.

  He felt his eyebrows lower. Why would Bria want Jack out of the way? What was she planning?

  Fear seized his heart.

  Had his father gotten to Bria? Did he know what Alexis really was?

  He turned from the window, but before he could take two steps, his phone vibrated again.

  Bria: I hear you’re in your father’s house. What a strange coincidence. So am I.

  All Kieran could do was stare for a moment.

  Another text came in.

  Bria: I was just about to animate a cadaver. Should I still do that, or are you going to lend a hand, or…

  He started toward the stairs immediately, fear and violence pulsing through him in waves. His father had just gone up with Sodge to check out some strange smell in the trophy room. Sodge was a retired Elite, something like Kieran’s Six, and had been blessed with a sliver of his father’s power. The older butler couldn’t feel magic or power level, but he had heightened smell, one of the few things age hadn’t stolen.

  Alexis had wanted to check out the trophy room. That and a few other rooms were on that list his mother had given her.

  Jack never would’ve let them into this house without Kieran.

  He clenched his jaw. Bria and Alexis had gone too far this time. They were endangering their lives, his mom’s future, and his intricate plans. If his father caught them…

  Where are you? Kieran typed out to Alexis, rounding the bottom of the stairs.

  A return text immediately appeared on the screen. This is Mordecai. I have her phone. Lexi is with Bria.

  Where are you? he typed again, to Bria this time.

  Second floor. Some sort of orgy room or something. There are pillows and sex toys everywhere.

  Kieran stilled, halfway up the stairs. His father only used that room when entertaining his revolving harem. They’d be safe in there until Kieran could distract his father and send them out.

  He flicked through possibilities as another text came in.

  I sent Alexis to the third floor.

  Kieran’s fingers tightened on his phone. Why the fuck would the paid protection send her mark to another location?

  He started forward again. There were two creaky steps on the stairwell to the third floor. He’d cultivated those warnings himself. If they’d been disturbed, he would’ve heard it from his current location.

  She was still trapped on the second floor.

  Hold, he typed as he walked, sweat coating his forehead. Let me assess the situation.

  He slipped the phone into his pocket and picked up the pace.

  His father and Sodge stood at the dragon scale desk, glancing around at the various disgusting displays of misspent power. Kieran loathed the trophy room, which made him want to tear his father’s head from his shoulders and add it to the other hideous things hanging on the walls. To keep from telegraphing an unusual interest in the room, he stalled in the doorway like he always did.

  His father glanced up with a perplexed expression.

  Kieran looked around, as though reading his father’s confusion and trying to discern the problem. He dropped his gaze when he didn’t see anything. It was unwise to appear too interested in his father’s activities.

  “I was thinking about going for a swim,” Kieran said, taking a risk. Before the budget meeting earlier, his father had mentioned he wanted to speak with him. Valens had left work early to head home for their discussion, so Kieran figured he had pressing items to discuss. Hopefully that would keep his focus now. “Did you need to talk to me about something, or can it wait until after...”

  “Kieran, come in here for a moment, if you would.” His father gestured him closer, the perplexed expression sticking firm.

  In keeping with his normal behavior, Kieran glanced behind him at the hall before taking a few nonchalant steps farther into the room. His phone vibrated in his pocket.

  “What’s up?” he said, taking out his phone and glancing at the screen.

  Jack: I’ve got a lock on Bria’s car. It’s five blocks from your father’s house. Are you home yet?

  He fired off a reply. They’re in the house. Bria is covered for now. Alexis unaccounted for. Get the team closer.

  “Do you smell anything…odd?” his father asked, walking out from behind the desk. He paused by an old chest that held heavens knew what. He glanced at the floor and then turned toward the back of the room. “It’s faint. I only get it occasionally.”

  Kieran shook his head before taking a few steps in his father’s direction. His stomach curdled as the tantalizing aroma of Alexis’s magic seeped into his body and energized his tired mind. He loved that smell—entrancing, strangely intimate, and desperately addicting.

  He took a step toward the back of the room, catching another whiff. Pretending he didn’t know what it was, he glanced at the ground and looked at the surfaces around him. “Did the maids put in an air freshener?”

  “Oh…” Sodge put out a finger as though he were remembering something from long ago. “Priscilla was complaining about the stale smell of a few rooms the other day.” He looked at the baseboards. “I had forgotten, sir. Excuse me. That must be it.”

  Valens’s expression withered, but he didn’t react. He had a soft spot where Sodge was concerned, one of his few.

  With a last glance around, Valens turned toward the double doors. “It’s nice, at any rate.”

  “It is. Faint, though,” Kieran said, going back to his phone. He tapped into his email as he followed his father out, doing everything he could think of to feign disinterest.

  He hadn’t lied— the smell was faint. Alexis had been in that room, but she wasn’t anymore.

  He had to find her before his father did.

  22

  Alexis

  “Follow me,” I heard as I waved my hands in the air in front of me. Inky darkness filled my vision and stale air clogged my throat.

  “How the hell can I follow you when I can’t see anything,” I whispered. The words drifted out into the nothingness before dropping away. They didn’t echo. “There aren’t stairs in here, are there? Or a big pit with spikes at the bottom?”

  “Turn on the ultra violets and then you’ll be able to see just fine,” the man said. He was talking about the plane where the Line beckoned. “That was my greatest discovery. The pull of the afterlife was compelling at first, I will say, but eventually you learn to ignore it. You’ll move faster if you stop dragging your feet.”

  “I don’t want to move faster,” I said, stopping. “You never answered my question about the pit.”

  I slipped into a light trance, and the Line materialized almost immediately. A light breeze fluttered my soul and the colors morphed into strange fluorescent hues, like an overexposed photograph.

  “You’re not quite there,” the man said. “You have to go a little closer…”

  But I’d never gone closer to the Line, I’d always pulled the Line closer to me. The distinction was a small one, but it was telling, too. Kieran’s words drifted into my memory—I used the power, it didn’t use me. Apparently, I always had.

  The walls around me flared into view, a foot beyond my fingertips on one side, and two on the other. The low ceiling pushed down on me, and smooth cement stretched out in front.

  “Wow.” I dropped my outstretched hands. “That light is incredibly handy, and this is an impressively large hidden passageway.”
>
  “The owners of this house have always been affluent,” the man said, leading the way. “I, myself, increased the size of the passageways in one of the areas. Where I could, you know. You have to tear out walls, and re-size some of the—”

  I let the drone of his voice ebb and flow around me as we reached a T junction. He turned left without skipping a beat, but I paused in the middle, trying to get my bearings.

  “We’re going up to the third floor, right? Somehow?”

  “The third floor…” He glanced back in confusion.

  “Keep it together, man. Now is not the time to forget your whereabouts. This is your house, remember? You live here. You know it like the back of your—”

  I cut off when a woman with long blonde hair and a glowing blue dress drifted toward us. Her feet stayed perfectly still, sliding against the smooth ground.

  “Marlene,” the man spat, his confusion dissolving instantly. Irritation took its place. “She always turns up when I use these hallways. One moment of weakness and she haunts me forever.”

  “I heard that,” Marlene said as she drew near. Her liquid brown eyes settled on me. “One moment of weakness…” She laughed, a shrill sound. “Is that what you’re calling it? Weakness?”

  “You have to understand,” the man said to me. I grimaced and edged around him. I didn’t want to get involved in a really old domestic dispute. “My wife was away visiting her sister. A man has needs.”

  “So does a woman, but we don’t drop our pants whenever a hot guy comes along.” I picked up the pace. “Self-restraint, look it up.”

  Maybe I did want to get involved in a domestic dispute, just a little. Honestly, I was not a fan of cheaters.

  “You said you were going to run away with me,” the woman said, following us now. “You said we could start a family. Remember all those nights, lying in those sweaty sheets…”

  “Good God,” I muttered, wishing her voice would ebb and flow as well.

  “You ruined my marriage,” the man said, stopping with me at the next junction.