by Linsey Hall
Dragon Blood
Linsey Hall
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Thank You!
Excerpt Of Hidden Magic
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About Linsey
Copyright
1
Ever have one of those Friday nights that’s so exciting people get jealous?
Yeah, me neither.
Occasionally, I hunted demons on Friday nights. That’s not so much exciting as it is deadly. But this Friday night?
My sister and I were working late, cooking up a blood sorcery potion for our buddy Aethelred, an old seer who favored blue velour tracksuits and looked like Gandalf on his way to jazzercise. Our workshop smelled of herbs and fire, and Aethelred was camped out in a chair by the hearth. Mari and I were bustling around, collecting ingredients for the potion he’d come to buy.
“How’s it going over there?” he asked, having just finished regaling us with tales of the drama that had gone down at Black Bingo yesterday.
Such an exciting Friday night.
“We’re getting there,” Mari said.
She was dressed in her usual plunging black dress with midnight bouffant hair and a massive sweep of black eye makeup. Her disguise made her look like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, and even Aethelred, one of her closest friends, had never seen her without it.
I was wearing mine too—sleek white silk, but pants instead of a dress. White was a strange choice when you worked with splashing potions half the time and killed demons the other half, but it worked for me. Also I had a spell that kept my clothes pristine, since there was no way I was going to handwash silk all the time.
“I can’t believe he comes to us for this stuff,” I muttered to Mari.
“What?” She gave me a mock innocent look, but was barely stifling laughter. “He trusts us!”
“Enough to make his date-night potions, apparently.” I dumped a vial of Heppenworth oil into the small silver cauldron. We never said directly what this potion was for, but all three of us knew it was to help out Gandalf’s staff.
Magic sparked in the air as the ingredients swirled together. Aethelred droned on in the background—though, to be honest, I did like his stories. Black Bingo could be wild sometimes. Some of the witches got real pissed if they thought you were cheating, then shit got real.
“Ready?” Mari hovered her hand over the cauldron.
“Yep.” I placed my hand next to hers, letting the steam waft up over my palm.
In tandem, we used our sharp thumbnails to slice our fingers, each letting a droplet of blood splash into the potion. Mine was white and hers was black. Though we both had dragon blood in our veins, I honestly had no idea why our blood was different colors.
Or, not red.
Purple smoke wafted up from the cauldron, smelling of lavender and wasabi. I wrinkled my nose.
“Whew, that’s weird,” I murmured.
“No kidding.” Mari withdrew her hand, and I followed suit.
The small wounds on our fingers would close up within seconds, which was handy considering how important our blood was to our business.
“Almost done here, pal,” Mari said to Aethelred.
I grabbed an empty vial off the shelf and began to funnel the potion into the glass. I was just putting the stopper in when an alarm began to blare, loud and fierce. I jumped, nearly spilling the potion. Crimson magic sparked along the ceiling.
Shit.
Red alert.
My heart rate spiked.
“Time to go!” Mari hurried to Aethelred and pulled him out of the chair.
“What’s happening, Mordaca?” he sputtered, using the name that my sister gave to the world.
I corked the bottle, miraculously managing not to spill a drop. “Nothing important.” I hurried to Aethelred and shoved the vial into his hands. “You can pay us later. Bye!”
Mari grabbed his arm and rushed him toward the door, leaning close to ask him in a falsely cheery voice, “Are we on for our walk tomorrow?”
She was trying to act normal, but even Aethelred would be able to tell that her voice was a bit funny. This was the second red alert this week, and that was really freaking weird. The Council of Demon Slayers usually only called on us about once a month. It varied, since demons escaped the Dark World at random times, but twice in a week was unheard of.
I waited impatiently for her to get back, drumming my fingers on the corner of the big table that sat in the center of the room.
Ten seconds later, she raced in, eyes wild. “Try explaining that to a seer!”
“No thanks.” Even Aethelred didn’t know we were demon slayers or Dragon Bloods. We kept that part of our lives secret. The Order of the Magica had once captured us and tried to use us for our power, and we’d never let that happen again “Now come on.”
She joined me at the table, pressing her hand to one corner while I pressed mine to another. Magic ignited in the air, a pale glitter of light, and the table levitated, moving across the floor to reveal an invisible trapdoor beneath.
Silently, we walked toward the spot on the floor that was right next to the trapdoor—we had it memorized by now—and each used our sharp thumbnails to pierce our fingers again. Droplets of ebony and white blood fell to the stone ground, and magic snapped against my skin.
The floor disappeared, and Mari raced down the spiral staircase. Heart pounding, I followed close at her heels, descending into the damp earth and following the pale glow.
We reached the first platform and let the aerlig vines wrap around us as we pressed our still-bleeding fingers to one of the thick green stalks. The vines read our intentions and then let us pass.
One of them slapped me on the butt, which was all too normal.
“Watch it!” I snapped, racing down toward the Lights of Truth that sparkled on the second level.
The glittering lights brushed warmly against my skin as they spoke in my mind.
Do you mean harm?
They’d barely gotten the question out before we both said, “No.”
They approved and let us pass, retracting from the space in front of us, clearing the passage. I raced after Mari, finally reaching the underground chamber that glowed with a faint blue light from the pool that glittered invitingly in the middle.
The Pool of Truth was how we maintained contact with the Council of Demon Slayers. I kicked off my shoes and gripped Mari’s hand, stepping into the cold water and stopping when it lapped at my ankles.
Together, we chanted, “Here we be, let us see.”
Glittering blue magic swirled in the air, moving faster and faster, a sparkling tornado that nearly blinded me. The air popped, and the magic disappeared.
An ephemeral figure rose from the middle of the pool.
I looked anxiously at her. “Hello, Agatha.”
Agatha was our contact with the Council of Demon Slayers, and she looked like a cross between a ghost and a person.
“Aerdeca. Mordaca.” She nodded at us. “I’m glad to see that you actually wore clothing this time.”
Last time, she’d caught me while sleeping and I’d raced down here in my panties.
“I’d have come in my underwear if I’d known you’d be so disappointed.” I grinned, knowing I shouldn’t bait Agatha but unable to help myself. Stress made
me crack bad jokes.
She shot me a pissed-off look, irritation vibrating from her. “There’s a problem in Magic’s Bend.”
That sobered me right up. “What kind of problem?”
“Dark magic on Factory Row. A lot of it.”
Shit. Our friends lived in the cool, renovated part of town full of old factories that housed apartments, antique stores, and coffee shops.
“Where did it come from?” Mari asked.
“It’s a demonic signature, but we don’t know where from exactly,” Agatha said. “From the strength of it, we assume that whoever is responsible is from the Dark World.”
Not good. There were many parts of the underworld—most of which were associated with earthly religions—but one of the worst was the Dark World. It was a place made of pure evil. Because demons could be hired as mercenaries, the person who had orchestrated the attack could be from anywhere.
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” I asked.
Her expression turned stark. “No. Which is why this is so bad. We have no idea what’s going on.”
The obvious worry on her face sent a chill down my spine. “We’re on it.”
“We’ll report back soon,” Mari said.
“Godspeed.” Agatha disappeared, her shimmery form sinking down into the pool.
I shared one brief look with Mari, then we sprinted out of the pool and grabbed our shoes. I beat her to the stairs, racing up them two at a time. I moved so fast that the handsy aerlig vine didn’t even manage an ass-slap.
When we reached the workshop, we quickly pressed our fingertips to the corners of the wooden table. It shifted into place over the invisible trapdoor.
I met her gaze. “Meet you in the foyer in two?”
She nodded and raced off to her apartment. I sprinted toward mine. We lived in a series of three townhouses right next to each other and all connected through the inside. Our main workspace and public function area was the center one. That’s where we did our blood sorcery, the business that made most of our money. Our personal houses were accessible on either side. Almost no one realized that we didn’t live in the main house, and we liked it that way.
I slammed into my apartment. The all-white space was normally soothing. But not now. Nothing would be soothing until I got to Factory Row and figured out what the hell was going wrong—and if my friends were okay.
I sprinted into my bedroom, spotting the black lump of hellcat curled up in the tiny bathroom sink.
“Wally, I’m going out.” I stripped out of my nice clothes and put on my fight wear—sturdy pants and a top, along with a leather jacket. All were white, my signature color, and would help me turn invisible at the blink of an eye. I called it my ghost suit. “There’s a problem on Factory Row.”
The black cat raised its head, smoke wafting around its form. He blinked red eyes that flickered with flame. A second later, he went back to sleep.
My new familiar had moved in a couple days ago and hadn’t actually left the sink since then, except for the occasional trip out to find some dinner. He refused all tuna and cat food in favor of souls, though I hadn’t seen him actually eat one.
Frankly, I’d really rather not.
Properly dressed and ready to kick ass, I ran from the room and out into the main foyer of the central townhouse. Mari sprinted in at the exact same moment, wearing an outfit identical to mine, except black.
She held out her hand for me. I gripped it tightly, ready to transport to our friends’ neighborhood.
Normally, we’d drive to Factory Row. But at that moment, speed was important. It was worth Mari using her transportation magic, even though it was a finite resource. All magic was, and if we used up our stash, we’d have to rest to recoup.
A second later, the ether sucked me in, spinning me through space in a wild ride that made my stomach turn and my head pound. A second later, the ether spat us out in front of Ancient Magic, the shop run by the FireSouls. Cass, Nix, and Del were some of my very few friends.
It was dead quiet, with the exception of the crowd at the far end of the street. About a hundred and fifty yards away, there were police barricades across the road, and people were pressed up against them, rubbernecking at the entrance to Factory Row.
But we were alone on the street.
“The cops aren’t in here,” Mari said.
“Or the Order of the Magica.” I frowned, searching the street and spotting a new statue in the park on the other side of the road. It was a stone sculpture of a jogger. Weird. That hadn’t been here yesterday when we’d visited Connor and Claire at Potions & Pastilles, the coffee shop/bar that they ran down the street.
“Cowards,” Mari muttered.
I couldn’t help but agree. The local and national magical governments were much more red-tape oriented than we were. If something iffy was going down, they’d make sure it was good and safe for their investigators before they came in.
Which was why the Council of Demon Slayers had come to us. We made it our mission to jump into dangerous shit without looking. Not the safest, but ninety-nine percent effective.
I turned toward Ancient Magic and peered through the window. The space was cluttered with shelves and objects, magic seeping out through the glass, but I could make out no movement. There were three big statues in there as well. Weird. The FireSouls usually dealt in smaller objects, finding and selling the magic from ancient artifacts from all over the world.
Cass, Nix, and Del used their dragon-given gift to find artifacts that contained valuable magic. There was a twist, though. They only took the artifacts with the oldest magic—the ones that were about to decay entirely. Once the magic decayed, it exploded, wreaking havoc that could destroy entire archaeological sites or towns.
They brought the artifact back to their shop where the conjurer, Nix, created an exact replica. She transferred the dangerous magic into the replica, which they sold. I was a frequent customer, actually. The original artifact was put back at the archaeological site. They even had government permits.
“Let’s check it out.” Mari pushed open the door to the shop.
I stepped in, immediately hit by a variety of magical signatures that lit up all of my senses. There were hundreds, each replica possessing its own unique magic that gave off a distinct signature.
My gaze went immediately to the statues, which were way out of place.
Oh, shit.
“Those look familiar.” Horror echoed in Mari’s voice.
My limbs chilled as I approached.
“Oh no.” Tears pricked my eyes as I looked at the faces of my three friends, frozen in stone.
They didn’t look scared or shocked or anything. It just looked like they were having a conversation.
“What the hell happened?” Mari asked.
“I have no idea.” I reached out with my magic, trying to figure out if there was any weird dark magic in the air. It was nearly impossible, though, with the signatures of the enchanted replicas filling up the space.
“There’s more.” Mari’s voice cut through the fog in my head, and I turned to look in the direction she pointed. Three men sat on chairs in the corner. Scratch that. Three statues. They’d clearly been mid-conversation as well. Immediately, I recognized Aidan, Roarke, and Ares, the significant others of the FireSouls.
My stomach turned. All six of them.
I drew in a deep breath, trying to settle my stomach. “Let’s go check Potions & Pastilles.”
I gave my friends one last look, dread filling me, then turned and left, hurrying down the street toward the coffee shop. The statue in the park caught my eye again, and I realized that it wasn’t a new piece of artwork.
It was a person.
My chest felt like it was full of lead as I turned toward P & P. The interior glowed with warm light as usual, but I spotted the statue behind the counter before I could even open the door.
“Shit.” I pushed open the door, my skin iced with fear.
Connor stood
behind the counter, his hands raised to the espresso machine. There were three patrons, all of whom sat frozen in their chairs, their bodies turned to stone. Two of them had coffee cups raised to their lips, and the other was reading the paper.
I met Mari’s stark gaze. All of the color had washed out of her face.
“What’s happening?” she whispered.
“I have no idea.” But I could feel the dark magic more strongly here. “It’s got to be a curse of some kind.”
I approached Connor, my gaze pinned to his stone form. “It happened suddenly—none of them look like they expected something bad to happen. They’re in the middle of doing normal things.”
“So it was one quick event that turned them to stone.”
“Yep.” Good news, too, because I didn’t want to slowly turn to stone by being here. Whatever had gone wrong, it had already happened. “But where is Claire?”
“I’ll check the back.” Mari hurried behind the counter and through the door that led to the little kitchen. I touched Connor’s stone shoulder—probably the first time I’d ever touched him, actually—and turned to look at the coffee shop patrons.
My gaze snagged on a note pinned to a little corkboard near the door.
Emergency, headed to San Fran. 10 p.m.
--Claire
I pulled it off the wall and followed Mari to the back.
“She’s not here,” Mari said. “Maybe her apartment above the shop.”
I held up the note. “She left last night. This wasn’t here when we came for a drink.”
“You noticed?”
I nodded.
Mari dug her tiny phone out of a secret pocket and dialed. She stared at the phone, her brow creased. It went to voice mail. “She’s not picking up.”
“Damn.” Four out of five friends, frozen solid. Along with at least four other people. I had a feeling that if I checked all the shops and apartments in the vicinity, people would be frozen there as well.
