Mercenary Magic (14 page)

“Nice trick. Did they teach you that in your fancy pants mage school?”

“When you didn’t respond,” he continued, every word crisp and tightly controlled, like he was on the brink of losing his cool. Maybe poking the dragon hadn’t been such a good idea after all. “I decided to look for you. But I didn’t need to track your phone. As soon as I went looking, I could feel your magic from clear across the city.”

He towered over her, his body blocking out everything. There was nowhere else to look. She saw only him. He leaned down, his cheek brushing against hers. His skin was smooth and smelled of magic and masculine spice. So this is what dragons smelled like. She inhaled deeply, letting it soak into her.

“Your magic is intoxicating, Sera.” His words buzzed against her skin. “So delicious, like a slice of dark chocolate cake.”

She remembered last night—and how good it had felt to kiss him. She sensed her body leaning toward his, yearning for another taste.

“Did you like the cheesecake I left you?”

“I didn’t eat it.” She fought the urge to touch him. “Riley did.”

He laughed under his breath. “Stubborn woman, it was meant for you. I could see you wanted it. Why do you always insist on denying yourself what you want?”

“I don’t—”

“Like your magic.” He traced his finger down her arm, trailing invisible fire across her skin. “You hide it away when all it wants is to be free. I want to see what you can do when you really let it out.”

Then he pulled away, leaving her breathless. She backed up and bumped against the metal railing. Nearby, the selkies raised their voices, singing out in seal-like barks.

“You should see your face,” he said, watching her with smug eyes.

Jerk. He was playing games with her. And she’d let herself be played. It might be too late to save face, but she sure as hell was going to try.

“Did Dawson finish going through the vault?” she asked, steering the conversation back to work.

His face shifted gears. “Nothing else was taken.”

“So the thieves’ target was the Priming Bangles.”

“Apparently.”

“I’ve learned some more about the glyphs,” she said.

“Tell me.”

“Naomi told me how to activate them,” Sera said, trying to speak over the selkies, who were getting louder with every passing second. She stole a glance back at the herd; two of them were fighting over a gem-studded comb, while the others cheered them on. “Hitting the glyphs with offensive magic doesn’t work. You need to pour some of your magic into them.”

“Interesting. Like jumpstarting a car battery.”

“Yeah, kind of like that. The more magic you can pour into it, the further you can teleport.”

“Good to know.” He walked across the path to a black car parked between two very large flower pots.

“Is this your car?”

The headlights blinked.
Well, I guess that answers that question.

“That’s not a parking spot,” she told him.

He held open the door for her. “Really? The car seems to fit just fine.”

“That’s not the point. You’re illegally parked.”

“Everything else was full,” he said with a shrug. “And the only reason I had to come here in the first place is because you weren’t answering my calls.”

“So it’s my fault then?”

“No, it’s no one’s fault because there is no fault. My car fit here, so I took the spot.”

“And if it hadn’t fit here? If you’d driven the tank?”

“The tank?”

“Your big black car from yesterday,” she said. “So if your car hadn’t fit, would you have just parked here anyway, smashing the flower pots into tiny little pieces?”

“We’re facing a major threat to the city, and you’re worried about a couple of flower pots? You really have your priorities mixed up.” He pointed into the car. “Get in. We have to hurry.”

Thus told off, she sat down and pulled the door shut after her. Kai had a point, but so did she.

“You can’t just do whatever you want,” she told him as he started the engine.

The car roared across the pavement, scaring seagulls and scattering tourists. It shot out onto the street and squeezed between two cars. Brakes screeched, horns blared, and two angry—and completely freaked out—drivers shot him rude hand gestures.

“You did that to prove a point,” she said.

“I don’t need to prove anything.” He sped up, and the engine purred in appreciation. “Now tell me about the mages who attacked you this morning.”

Sera gritted her teeth at the order but told him anyway. She needed to see what he made of Harrison Sage’s part in it and the Magic Council’s interference. After all, he knew them all a whole lot better than she did.

“So Harrison sent one of his lawyers,” he said when she was done.

“That means he’s involved.”

“Not necessarily. But likely.”

“Maybe he sent the mages after me.”

“Maybe.”

“The Magic Council signed off on this. They gave him the authority he needed to waltz in and whisk the mages away. Do you know anything about that?” she asked him.

“Why would I?” He looked surprised. Then again, he was a manipulative beast. There was a reason dragons were often the villains of the story.

“Why would you? Because you sit on the Council,” she shot back. “Which you failed to mention, by the way.”

“Do you mention everything about yourself? No, you have it all tucked away in protective wrap like a snowball in July. And just like that summertime snowball, you cannot escape your fate.”

Sera went cold. Her fate. If the Magic Council got its way, that meant death.

“Look, I don’t care that you think you have weird magic, and I don’t care why you’re hiding it. People have all kinds of crazy reasons for doing foolish things, and I’m not going to try to stop you from being crazy or foolish. I don’t even think that’s possible.” He sighed. “So be crazy and foolish and whatever else you want. But I’ve tasted your magic. I
will
find out what it is. And when I do, I’ll be keeping you and your magic all to myself.”

The possessiveness in his voice almost earned him a well-deserved punch to the face. But he was driving, so that would be stupid. And the need in his eyes threw her for a loop. And the way he was angled toward her…like he meant to protect her. She definitely believed him when he said he wouldn’t tell anyone.

Games. More games
, a voice said inside her head.

Right
, she agreed, even as she realized that only crazy people heard voices in their heads.

The voice spoke again,
Don’t trust anyone. You can protect yourself. Just like it’s always been
.

Yeah, she’d taken care of herself, but her life had pretty much sucked up to now. Riley was right. This was no way to live. Sera didn’t point that out to the voice. Arguing with the voices in your head was even crazier than hearing them.

“Kai—”

“I’ve said all that I mean to on this matter for now, Sera. If you still want to pretend to be offended, we can discuss that after we’re done saving the city from the League of Mad Mages.”

He was right. Work first.

“Why did the Magic Council give Harrison the authority to deal with those two mages?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. I haven’t met with them since I started working on this case. I didn’t even know they’d met. I sure wasn’t told about it. Harrison must be behind this,” he said. “Well, I’ll just ask him when we find him.”

“Is that where we’re going now? Is that the lead you mentioned?”

“Yes, my people have been trailing Harrison. They followed him to Acceleration Magic.”

“The indoor recreational area near the Palace of Fine Arts?”

“Yes. Have you been there?”

“I corralled a herd of unicorns into there once.”

His gaze flicked briefly to her before returning to the road. “How do you even corral a herd of unicorns?”

“With much difficulty,” she told him. “So Acceleration Magic. That’s where you’re taking us?”

“Yes. Harrison went into the building a few hours ago and hasn’t come out since.”

“Did you mention that he’s probably linked to a group of mages who can use glyphs to teleport across the city?”

“Yes, and they’re keeping an eye on him and the others inside. Olivia showed up half an hour ago. Something big is brewing.”

“Then let’s get there before it explodes.”

A few minutes later, Kai’s car slid into a parking spot just outside of Acceleration Magic. The curved shell building that held the recreation area was drab, ugly, and uninspired—a complete contrast to the beautiful curves and colors of the nearby Palace of Fine Arts.

The fairies called the architectural landmark the Mystic Palace. On dark, clear nights you could sometimes watch them gathering to sing under the hollow palace dome, or see nymphs splashing in the pond. It was best to watch from a distance, however, because the fairies didn’t take kindly to invaders of their rituals. The nymphs, on the other hand, delighted in the sight of visitors. They pouted out their lips, perked up their peaches, and shot sultry looks at any man within flirting distance. The men they lured in woke up the next morning with no memory of the previous night—and sometimes the past few days. But still the men kept coming, drawn in by the nymphs’ seductive magic.

“My team’s on the roof,” Kai said, stopping in front of the building. His eyes panned up the smooth wall.

“I take it there’s no ladder.”

“No.” He headed for a tree growing beside the building. It reached higher than the roof, but the branches were spaced too far apart to comfortably climb it. “We go up here.”

The branches apparently weren’t too far apart for a big, bad dragon—though she wasn’t convinced those skinny twigs could even hold his weight. Maybe he meant to fly up.

“Do you want a boost?” he asked, his brows lifted in wicked amusement.

That’d be the day.
“I’m fine.”

She backed up to the grassy patch past the parking spaces. Then, taking a deep breath, she made a dash for the building, running up the wall to launch herself into the tree. Her foot slipped against one end of the branch, her hands locked onto the other, and the rest of her in between just tried to steady itself before she dropped to the ground like a stone. A few undignified squirms and wiggles later, she was making her way up the tree.

As she slid up onto the roof, she peeked down over the edge. Kai hopped onto the tree and scrambled up it like he did that sort of thing every day. Maybe he did. Who knew what sort of weird things he had in his dungeon—uh, basement.

In the middle of the roof, surrounding a skylight, three men dressed in full bodysuits turned their hard, assessing eyes on her. Their hands slid toward their knives.

“Stand down,” Kai told them as he pushed himself up onto the roof.

His arms bulged under the weight. Not that Sera was ogling. Not at all. He winked at her on his way over to join his team of unsuitably dressed commandos. They must have been sweating up a storm under all that black.

“Sera, this is Callum, Tony, and Dal.”

They each gave her a crisp nod.

“There are five mages inside,” one of the men reported. “Three are piling up wood in the corner. And the two Sage siblings are arguing over something.”

“What kind of wood?” Sera asked, crawling forward to peer through the skylight. The glass was too milky to see a thing. She looked at him in surprise.

“Tony’s a seer,” Kai told her.

She looked at Tony. “What’s your range?”

“About thirty feet,” he replied. “And the wood’s oak.”

“That’s used for protection magic,” said Sera. “What are those mages doing in there?”

“I don’t know. But one of them just brought in the Priming Bangles,” he said, looking at Kai.

“Ok, we’re moving in.”

Like perfect soldiers, they moved quickly into position. Sera wasn’t a perfect soldier, and she didn’t have a position—at least not any that he’d given her.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked Kai.

“We’re all going to jump down.”

“Without ropes?”

“I’ll create a wind funnel to soften our landing. I’ll use a second one to hold the mages in place,” he said. “We’ll recover the Priming Bangles and capture Harrison’s rogue band of mages.”

Kai hit the skylight with a blast that sucked it right out of its screws. As the sheet of glass tumbled off the roof, the wind funnel poured through the opening.

“Sounds simple enough,” she said cautiously.

Except that nothing was ever that simple.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

War with the Wind

IT TOOK A special sort of subtlety and a hell of a lot of power to tame a tornado. Kai had both in spades. As the tornado he’d cast began to spin into existence, he reached out and molded it into a slide. Sera, Kai, and the commandos rode the wind down to the ground, where a whirling funnel had the five mages pinned against the walls: Harrison and Olivia Sage, an elemental, a summoner, and a shifter. The elemental’s magic smelled like fire, the summoner’s like the sea, and the shifter’s like a woodland. Harrison and Olivia smelled like old magic and self-entitlement mixed with blood and decay. Ew. They all smelled like a whole lot of crazy.

The fiery elemental tried to summon a ball of fire into her hand, but the wind puffed it out like a birthday candle. She tried again, and a wind tentacle curled out to slam her wrist against the bare concrete wall behind her. Glass crunched, likely from her expensive watch.

Harrison Sage glared out through the wind curtain, his hands tugging against the wall of magic. His malachite-green eyes gleamed with that now familiar manic energy. Beside him, Olivia’s eyes glowed like boiling honey. More mage zombie puppets for Team Apocalypse. But where was the puppet master? And how had he managed to place two first tier mages under his spell?

“You cannot break free,” Kai said, watching Harrison’s war with the wind.

Harrison’s malachite eyes began to pulse with sick, nauseating magic. They looked like a pair of lightbulbs with a loose connection.

“Creepy,” Tony commented, and the other two commandos nodded in agreement.