Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic (12 page)

“That’s easy. You’re Jade. You’re cupcakes, trinkets, and deadly magic. Like that knife you carry. Pretty green stone, tasty magic, and deadly.”

I smiled. “Well, thanks for sorting that for me.”

“Any time.” Kandy laughed and I felt blessed by the rare sound. Sure, she snorted and sneered a lot, but a full laugh was unusual.

“Desmond is going to find that connection with another shapeshifter someday, and I’ll just sit there and watch him be blown away. If he’s even talking to me after three months of silence.”

Kandy shrugged. “Cats are different than wolves.”

“It’s the magic of it. The chemical reaction. Some humans think that’s all love is, chemicals mixing perfectly.”

Kandy nodded. I glanced back at Drake just as he reached for the first steel crossbeam of the installation.

“Drake!” I yelled.

He snatched his arms back to his sides. “What?” he asked, perfectly nonchalant.

“Don’t climb art,” I said, closing the distance between us.

“Is that what this is?” The fledgling dragon stared at the installation again.

“Yeah … I think it’s a fish.”

“A zebrafish?”

“There’s a plaque right there,” Kandy said. “Or can’t you read English now?”

“Kett’s waiting,” I said as I stepped between the werewolf and the fledgling. Drake was grinning at Kandy like he was microseconds away from seeing how far he could toss her.

“I know, I saw him circle the block twice already.” Drake reached over my shoulder and tagged Kandy on the forehead with a flick of his finger. “Front seat!” he yelled, and then he took off for the doors.

“Shotgun!” Kandy yelled after him. “You’re supposed to call ‘shotgun’!”

Drake laughed, managing to not kill any students as he exited the building.

“He can’t sit in the front seat,” I said, slowly moving after him. “That’s way too close to the engine.”

“Hey,” Kandy said. “Aren’t I supposed to get chocolate if you’re going to force girly talk on me?”

“I’ll buy,” I answered, crossing my heart with my index finger. “Your choice, ASAP.”

“I’ll use my Google-fu while you compare lists with the vampire and find another sorcerer for us to freak out.”

I laughed. “Good plan.”

∞

Jorgen, the Nordic werewolf, was waiting for Kandy on the steps to the street. His back stiffened and he plucked the earbuds from his ears when we were ten steps away from him. He turned and grinned at Kandy.

She glowered at him in return. His grin widened. And then, to my surprise, Kandy smiled back at him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she answered.

My heart pinched, right in that sore spot I’d been carrying for Sienna for over six months now. I pivoted away, crossing diagonally toward Drake where he leaned against a brick planter at the base of the stairs.

“See you later?” I heard Jorgen ask behind me.

“Maybe,” Kandy answered. Then she jogged a few steps to catch up with me.

“That was a quick mating dance,” I muttered.

“Nah, the dance hasn’t started yet.” Kandy actually sounded cheerful.

Kett, in a completely new, pristinely white luxury SUV, pulled past us on the street. We hopped into the vehicle while it was still rolling. Did Bentley or Rolls Royce make an SUV? If so, this was one of those. Even I could see the difference an extra hundred thousand dollars made. I felt bad placing my feet anywhere near the floor mat. Who would be insane enough to spend this sort of money on a car? Right, an elder vampire.

I settled into the passenger seat beside Kett — I’d shouldered Drake away from the front — and glanced over at the vampire. He looked pale. He shouldn’t look pale, because he was always pale. More pale was a bad sign.

“Everything cool?” I asked him as we pulled into traffic.

He nodded but didn’t look at me. The edge of the neck of his sweater was twisted, and I reached over to smooth it without thinking. It was stretched actually, the delicate cashmere fibers torn in places.

Kett snatched my hand away from his neck, crushing my fingers in his grip. He glared at me, red whirling in his eyes. The SUV lurched into the other lane, and a squeal of wheels indicated we’d narrowly missed being hit from the side.

“You’re going to break my fingers,” I whispered, trying to not wince from the pain of him grinding the small bones of my hand against each other.

He released my hand and returned his attention to the road.

“Touchy, touchy, vamp,” Kandy said from the back seat. Her warning was obvious. She took her protection duties seriously.

“We got two more names from Edmonds, but he hasn’t seen Sienna,” I said. My even tone sounded forced as I pulled Blackwell’s list from my satchel and compared it to the sorcerer’s sticky note. “Same names.”

“We’ll head to the bookstore as planned, then.” Kett’s remoteness sounded perfectly natural.

Kandy and Drake started digging through some brown paper bags they’d found in the back hatch area. Kett had gone grocery shopping.

“You need to feed,” I whispered to Kett without looking at him.

“Are you offering?” He snapped the question back at me, full of anger and indignation.

“No. I —”

“Then it’s none of your business.”

Drake passed an apple over my shoulder and I gladly took it. It was cold, as if it had been in a refrigerator. I pressed it against my cheek and stared out my window as the city of London creeped by. Kett didn’t speak further, didn’t ask for directions. I didn’t make any more observations.

I’d always had a hard time keeping or finding friends, except Sienna. I didn’t like acknowledging that hard spot lodged in my heart. And the fact that the spot was still there after all Sienna had done told me so much about myself that I didn’t want to know. That I was stupid, and slow, and loyal to a fault.

Just like I was being stupid about how the vampire’s pissiness bothered me. Not that Kett was a friend. He’d never pretended to be, and my reactions were my own, not dictated by him.

I bit down on the apple, and sucked the tart juice from the flesh. I reminded myself that this trip to London wasn’t about seeking revelation. I didn’t need any more insight. What I needed was resolution, otherwise I was going to be caught in limbo between the two halves of myself — of my life — forever.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The bookstore Kett referred to was in the basement of a posh brick building in the South Kensington area of London. Once again, I had no idea where I was, but if I had been really into high-end shopping, this would obviously have been the place to come.

The bookstore owner — Clark — had been listed second by Blackwell and first by Edmonds. He didn’t seem to have a phone, but that might have been a magic thing. Why some Adepts could use phones or other electronic devices while others couldn’t didn’t seem to be completely dependent on sheer power, so I wasn’t sure yet what made the difference. How an Adept carried or used their magic, maybe?

Kett hadn’t needed the GPS to find the bookshop, which was tucked between a shoe store and a clothing boutique. One look at the shoes let me know they cost more than the monthly rent on my bakery. And the clothing wasn’t up to the sword-and-sorcery lifestyle I was currently living.

The bookstore was actually below ground. The front door — heavily warded — sat at the base of a narrow set of stairs. McGrowly, with his insanely broad shoulders, wouldn’t have fit through it.

Why were my thoughts so constantly haunted by powerful people who I wasn’t sure had my best interests at heart these days? Life was much simpler when I just needed to worry about matching my nail polish to my newest cupcake creation. The question looming before me was, whether I wanted to go back there. To the simplicity. And could I do so now even if I wanted to?

A placard on the sidewalk declared that the store was open and called ‘Books, Tomes, and Other Publications.’ A bright orange arrow pointed down the stairs. Clark had as much flare for naming things as I did … as in, opting for the very obvious.

Despite the sign, though, the store wasn’t open. At least it wasn’t open for us, or for unknown Adept in general. Also, we belatedly realized as we crammed down the stairs together that we didn’t actually all fit on the small landing in front of the entrance and the side window.

Runes were carved into the wood of the doorjamb. A playbill for ‘Wicked’ was displayed in the window, through which I could see a book-covered bench. Other than that, all I could see inside was shelves upon shelves of used books.

“There’s a bell,” Kandy prompted. She was still on the stairs behind Kett and me. Drake was between her and us … the better to keep an eye on him.

“I’ve been here before,” Kett said.

“And yet you hesitate to enter. That bodes well. Not,” I said.

Kandy snorted.

 
Ignoring us, Kett closed his hand on the door latch. The silvery-blue magic of the runes shifted. They tasted of cloves and nutmeg … gingerbread cookies, actually, with that earthy sorcerer undertone.

The door opened. Kett flicked his ice-blue eyes to me. The blood I’d seen whirling in them in the car was gone.

“Try not to eat anyone we’re looking to get answers from,” I said, hoping he would be willing to move past whatever was currently standing between us.

The vampire offered me a toothy grin and then slipped silently into the bookstore. So I guess we were okay. Maybe I’d been overreacting. I wouldn’t be surprised. I was on edge about everything.

The door closed behind Kett. I couldn’t taste or feel anything beyond the runes of the doorway.

“Wouldn’t books get musty in a basement?” I asked.

“Easy to defend,” Kandy said.

“If there are two exits,” Drake added.

“The guy’s a sorcerer. He probably fled out the back the moment he knew we were here,” Kandy said.

“I don’t think we triggered any spells on our way down,” I said.

“There are probably spells to prevent mustiness,” Kandy offered.

The door reopened, and Clark — or so I assumed since I couldn’t feel his magic beyond the wards — stood smiling at us. I couldn’t see Kett. Clark couldn’t have gotten more typically sorcerer if he’d tried. Unlike with Edmonds, I suspected he didn’t bother to be anything other than what he was — a sixty-plus, gray-haired, round-bellied, magical bookstore-owning sorcerer with a comb-over.

“Jade Godfrey?” His British accent was so thick it took me a moment to recognize my name.

“Yes,” I answered. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Clark.”

“Just ‘Clark,’ there’s no mister here,” he responded. “Yes, yes. The vampire says you have a book I might be interested in.”

“We aren’t selling,” I said. “But we have questions.”

“Yes, yes. We will see, won’t we?” He stepped back from the doorway. “Come, come. Let’s see what you have.”

Clark had just stepped beyond the first bookshelf when I cleared the ward that he’d opened with his invitation. The sorcerer stumbled, and Kett appeared from among the shelves at his side.

Drake stepped into the store with Kandy behind him. Clark twisted back to us, clutching the bookshelf and visibly paler. Kett was supporting the shelf instead of touching Clark.

“What?” Clark murmured. Then he snapped his mouth shut while he stared at us crowding the entrance to his bookstore. “I … I …” Clark started again but didn’t continue. His smile was entirely wiped from his face. “You said … witch and werewolf,” he finally articulated to Kett.

“Yes,” Kett responded smoothly, lying through his perfectly white, straight teeth.

Clark straightened. His face was now closed and questioning. Not fearful or angry, but unsure and wary. “Well, let’s see what you have,” he said, then he continued farther back into the store.

Not everyone found my magic tasty, or Drake’s compelling, it seemed.

∞

Clark crossed behind a book-strewn counter deep within the shop. After shifting a few volumes around, he found and pulled on his reading glasses. Thus bespectacled, he took another moment to take Kandy, Drake, and me in.

I tried smiling, but the sorcerer’s earlier jovial nature didn’t return.

He nodded, though to what I wasn’t sure, then cleared a space on the counter and patted the worn wood before him.

I obligingly pulled Blackwell’s demon history chronicle out of my satchel and placed it before the sorcerer.

He hovered his hands over the book for a moment, then touched its edges lightly to rotate it toward him. “Not the original,” he said.

“No,” I answered, though it hadn’t been a question.

He flipped open the cover and perused the first entry. “A fine duplication.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, well, Blackwell always employs the best.” Ah, Clark recognized the book and its owner.

“Does he?”

Clark looked up at me and offered a grim smile. “Does he still have the original?”

“No.”

Clark’s lips tightened. “Have you left him alive?” he asked. Then he glanced over all of us again.

“Unfortunately,” Kandy answered, standing to my right.

Clark smiled more genuinely in the werewolf’s direction. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you’d agree to auction the books in his collection.”

“We have left the sorcerer and his collection unharmed,” Kett said. He was half hidden in the shadows to my left. His voice was as neutral as it ever was, but something was still bothering him. I didn’t like it when things bothered the vampire. It took a lot to get him riled, and it was damn difficult to rein him in after the fact. He’d once left a tooth in Desmond’s neck. I wondered if it had grown back yet, not that I wanted a close look at his fangs.

“Are you seeking the original?” Clark asked as he returned his attention to the book.

“In a way,” I answered. “We’re looking for a witch.”

“And you think she might have come to me? What do I have that would draw her?”

“Your power,” I said, very aware that the gingerbread magic I referred to was swirling around him now like a cloak. His manner was understated but his magic was uneasy. My suggestion further agitated it.

“And what are you here to try to take from me, Jade Godfrey, who is not a witch?”

“Nothing, sir,” I answered. “I just have questions about my sister, Sienna — or Valencia, depending on what name she is currently using — and the book. A specific entry in the chronicle.”