Chasing Steel: Capturing Magic Books 1-3

by Jessica Sorensen

  He glares at me through the whirlwind of ash and smoke flooding the kitchen. “You’ll pay for this!”

  “I didn’t even do anything!” I cry, coughing as the smoky air hits my lungs.

  Snarling like a rabid beast, he vanishes from the kitchen, taking his lamp with him and leaving me lying on the floor in an empty, rotting house, with nothing but my tears and whimpers to fill up the silence.

  That’s when I realize I’m truly alone in this world.

  That my parents are never coming back.

  Present…

  In this world, some humans believe history repeats itself. My mom used to ramble on about that theory all the time. Me? I’ve never been a big believer in it … until now. Because, what I’m about to do just might land me in the same position as the day that fucking soulless genie took everything away from me and cursed my future. Then again, I have no other choice. Not unless I want to lose the only person left in this world I care about.

  That’s what I remind myself as I stare down at the garbage can in front of me, piled with trash and doused with a bottle of everlasting flame I stole from a witch’s car parked in the arena’s parking lot near multiple bands’ world jumper vehicles, vehicles that can transport to different worlds. My pockets are stuffed with potions, a dagger, and a few magical herbs. Again, stuff I stole.

  After years of surviving on the streets, I’ve learned how to become quite the thief. I used to hate the idea of stealing, but then I became homeless and orphaned, and quickly discovered that, in order to survive, I have to do things I hate. Just like I’m about to do now.

  If I get caught, I’ll likely be sent to the electric dungeons again … or executed. Or worse, I’ll be sentenced to the Human Binding Department where I’ll be sold to the highest paranormal bidder.

  I’ve heard horror stories of what happens to humans when they’re sold to paranormals. Of how their souls are bound to their masters by magic, and they’re forced to obey every command. I’d rather die than become a plaything for a paranormal, so I’m taking a huge risk being in the arena parking lot, surrounded by world jumper vehicles filled with paranormal musicians. But I need to be here so I can pay a debt to the underground mafia, who are human, yet they have enough power over the city to be almost as scary as the paranormals.

  Taking a deep breath, I dig my lighter out of my pocket and adjust the staff badge clipped to the front of my jacket. If things go according to plan, I should be able to pay off my debt to the underground mafia by tonight. Well, not my debt, but Jason’s, my best friend since we were twelve after we both spent a month in the electric dungeons.

  He had been imprisoned for stealing a fey’s motorcycle, and I had been thrown in for trying to assault the genie who I thought had been behind the disappearance of my parents—huge emphasis on the trying part. The really sucky part? It wasn’t even the right genie. Luckily, I only got my ass fried by magic and my arms covered in magical wish burns that left behind a couple of gnarly scars. My sanity was also a bit shaky due to the temporary chaos wish he blasted into my brain, but that eventually faded.

  I’m sort of glad the incident happened, though, because it gave me Jason. Knowing he has my back, that I have someone who’s there for me, makes the darkness and sometimes hopeless part of life easier to bear.

  But then our friendship hit a rough patch about six months ago when Jason got addicted to faerie euphoric dust. When he could no longer afford to buy the magical drug, he started stealing it from the mafia and got caught. The leader was going to kill him, but I made a deal to save Jason’s life.

  At first, I tried to entice the mafia leader with a vow that I’d get enough money to pay off Jason’s debt. But no, the leader didn’t want money. He wanted something way more valuable in exchange for Jason’s freedom.

  A gods damn genie lamp.

  Under any other circumstance, I would’ve said hell no. But Jason is the only person I have left in this world that I care about. If I could without losing him, I might have even fallen in love with him by now. So, I told the mafia leader I’d steal the damn genie lamp, and he gave me a name and a location of where I could find a genie and his lamp.

  Ashton Wynterford—aka Asher—lead singer and guitarist for the Ash East Arrow, who is currently in the city as part of a music tour. Only paranormals and some of their human servants are allowed to attend the concert. However, humans are allowed to apply for two job positions. One is to work as a bands’ staff team, and the other is to be part of one of the bands’ “special aftershow,” which means you have to fuck the band members after they perform.

  While some human men and women are into having sex with paranormals, I’d rather cut off my right arm than give my virginity to a soulless, evil monster. So, I applied for a staff position, and here I am, about to break all sorts of laws and start a fire in the midst of the bands’ vehicles.

  I hunker down between the front of one large, metal, world jumper vehicle and the rear end of another, repeatedly flicking the lighter. My heart is a mess inside my chest, and my skin is damp with sweat. If the wrong human or paranormal sees what I’m about to do, I’m beyond screwed.

  You have to do this to save Jason. He’s all you have left in this world.

  As if sensing where my thoughts are heading, my earpiece begins to ring with an incoming call. I fumble around in my pocket for the receiver the mafia leader gave me and push the answer button.

  “Hello?” I whisper, peering around nervously to double-check that no one is watching me.

  “Harlynn,” the mafia leader, or Lead as he likes to call himself, greets me cheerfully through my earpiece. “So, what’s the update? Do you have my lamp yet?”

  “Not yet,” I whisper, crouching lower to the ground. “I’m about ready to go get it, though. Just setting up a distraction.”

  “Good, good,” he mumbles with less cheerfulness. “I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake, right?”

  “No, I remember pretty clearly,” I reply through clenched teeth, my hands fisting into balls.

  “Sometimes reminders help motivation, don’t you agree?”

  “Sure.” I really fucking hate this guy. Normally, I’d tell him how moronic he is, but pissing him off right now means risking Jason’s life.

  “Good. Then let me send out a reminder.”

  A holographic screen illuminates in front of my face, revealing Jason bound by electric cuffs and surrounded by a group of men dressed in black, hooded uniforms and armed with various weapons.

  “Jason?” I reach out like I can touch the screen.

  Lead only allowed me to see Jason once when I made the bargain, and I was never allowed to speak to him directly.

  Jason lifts his head and peers around with his good eye, the other too swollen to open. His lip is bleeding, and his nose is crooked and bruised. He looks awful, beaten, and sickly. My heart is breaking at seeing him so fractured.

  “Harlynn?” he whispers, his eyes finding mine on the screen.

  “Hey.” I fight back the tears threatening to pour out. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m doing okay,” he promises. “I’m just worried about you.”

  “I’m fine. I promise. In fact, I’m about to go in and get the lamp so I can get your sorry ass freed.” I force a smile.

  He hastily shakes his head. “I don’t want you to do it, Har. It’s too dangerous. And this …” He glances around at the men. “This is my mess, not yours.”

  “I’m not going to just let them kill you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He flinches as the men begin to close in on him. “In fact, I’m working on a different deal with Lead. One that doesn’t involve you … You need to leave. Get away from wherever you are and forget about that lamp—”

  The screen vanishes, leaving me staring at the back of a vehicle.

  “Hello?” I whisper as tears roll down my cheeks. “Jason, can you hear me?”

  “I’ve cut off the connection,” Lead’s voice fills my
ear again. “Once you get the lamp and send me a visual of it, I’ll let you see him again.”

  I dry my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. “How do I know he’s still okay?”

  “You have my word that no harm will come to him as long as you bring me the lamp.”

  The word of an underground mafia leader. How reassuring.

  “And if your thieving reputation precedes you,” he continues, “I have no doubt you’ll have no trouble pulling this off.”

  I want to argue with him, insist that I’m not a very good thief. But the truth is, I am. Even before I lost my parents at eleven years old, I was always able to sneak around and find objects and secrets no one wanted found, like the book my father stole. The trait probably came from him.

  While my dad wasn’t a thief, he was a tracker, or what some call a treasure hunter. He was the best of his time. That’s why he was able to find a genie lamp.

  “All right, but just know that, if any more harm comes to Jason, I won’t hand over the lamp,” I dare say to Lead.

  “You’re in an awfully vulnerable position to be making such demands,” he warns.

  “I could very well say the same thing to you, since I’m the one who’s about to get this genie lamp you want so badly.” Yeah, I’m being a bit bold, but I can’t stand the thought of more harm coming to Jason.

  He gives a short, unnerving pause. “I can’t decide whether you’re extremely stupid or completely brilliant.”

  A slow exhale eases from my lips. “Perhaps a bit of both.”

  “Perhaps.” He pauses. “No more harm will come to Jason, just as long as I have that lamp in my hands within seventy-two hours. That gives you more than enough time to pull this off.”

  It takes a lot of effort, but I manage to get out a, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Just don’t let me down. If you do, Jason dies.”

  “I won’t let you down.”

  “Good.”

  The line dies.

  I swear to the skies, it feels like a hundred-pound weight drops onto my shoulders.

  If I fuck this up, Jason dies. If I succeed, I could still screw everything up because, if there’s one thing in this world that I don’t trust, it’s a genie and his lamp. I have no other choice, though. I’m going to get that lamp, even if it kills me.

  Summoning a shaky breath, I glance from left to right, scoping out the parking lot. A handful of staff members are wandering around, along with a few punked-out paranormal band members. Between the world jumper vehicles and the greying darkness of the sky, I’m pretty well hidden.

  After double-checking to make sure no one is watching me, I flick the lighter and drop it into the bin of trash and gasoline. Then I run away as the flames swoosh toward the greying sky before pausing to momentarily stare as the fire blazes.

  The great part about using everlasting flames is that only a witch can put it out. Since the only witch around is currently performing on stage, the fire won’t be easy to extinguish. And while everyone is distracted, I’ll sneak onto the genie’s vehicle and steal the lamp.

  At least, that’s the plan.

  Please let this go down smoothly.

  Tearing my eyes off the hissing flames, I shuffle a few more steps back as smoke funnels through the air.

  “Fire!” I shout, pretending to lose my shit.

  A few paranormals and humans glance in my direction, but the panic factor I was anticipating never happens.

  I try again, pointing at the flames. “Holy shit, there’s an everlasting fire and it won’t go out! The bands’ vehicles are going to blow up!”

  That statement unleashes a wave of panic. Staff and band members rush over to try to put out the flames with human devices and magical spells. Then fire only blazes brighter.

  Perfect.

  “Someone should probably evacuate these vehicles as a precautionary measure,” I tell a younger staff member whose eyes are wide with panic.

  His gaze flicks to my staff badge. “Yeah, yeah, you do that,” he mumbles as he picks up his radio device.

  Fuck, I wasn’t planning on being the one to do this part of my plan.

  I ball my hands into fists, knowing if I knock on that world jumper vehicle door, I very well may cross paths with the owner of the lamp I’m about to jack.

  Think of Jason, Harlynn. You have to do this. You have to be brave. And the genie on that vehicle didn’t kill your family. He’s just some genie. He’s nothing.

  Yeah, other than a powerful creature who can cast spells and wishes that can shatter your life into pieces.

  Lowering my hood, I march over to the world jumper vehicle and pound my fist against the door. I hear cursing on the other side, followed by laughter. Then the door swings open. Standing on the other side is none other than Asher Wynterford.

  He looks just like he did in the photo Lead gave me—tall, lean, and around my age. Although, with paranormals, it’s hard to say for sure what age they are. He has short, cropped brown hair, pierced lips and brows, and these crazy blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes and smudged eyeliner. He has on the jinn’s trademark wrist cuffs, isn’t wearing a shirt, and his black jeans hang low on his hips, giving me an eyeful of the intricate tattoos weaving and curving along his scarred flesh.

  Scarred flesh? Since when do genies have scars?

  Ripping my eyes off his scars, I blink up to meet his piercing blue eyes. And when I say piercing, I mean piercing. His gaze nearly tears me to shreds as he scrolls over my unlaced boots, torn jeans, black T-shirt, and plaid overshirt. The only makeup I have on is some lip balm and kohl eyeliner, and my long brown hair is swept to the side in a tangled mess of waves. I can see the disapproval in his eyes, but I don’t give a shit. I’m not here to dazzle some arrogant, soulless genie.

  “Hey.” I sound a bit breathless from the adrenaline overload the situation is causing.

  His eyes briefly widen in surprise, then a pucker forms at his brow. A strange reaction, even for a paranormal. Then his expression promptly alters to indifference, and yep, that seems about right.

  “Nope. Not interested.” He slants against the doorway with his arms crossed, a smirk playing at his lips. “A little word of advice, human girl. Next time, put a little more effort into your presentation. This whole flannel shirt, holey jeans, and whatever the hell is going on with your hair”—he pulls a face as he motions at my head—“isn’t going to get most paranormals to fuck you, let alone a paranormal like me.” He braces his hands on the doorframe, muscles bulging as he stares down at me with a malicious gleam in his stupidly pretty blue eyes. “You could try the band next to us. They’re not as picky with their aftershow women. My band likes top-shelf quality.”

  My blood scalds, along with the scars on my skin.

  Before I even know what I’m doing, my lips part. “Thanks for that little speech, but I’m not here looking to get fucked. And if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t have knocked on your door. I just came to tell you that there’s an everlasting fire burning at the back of your vehicle and you might want to get off until it’s put out, or else you’re probably going to get smoke inhalation. But hey, maybe if you do, it’ll give your bland, average voice that raspy sound. That will at least bump up your below-average sound to middle-shelf quality, right?” I bite down on my tongue.

  Oh, my hell, what did I just do? He’s going to curse me where I stand.

  As his eyes darken with smoke, my breath gets lodged in my chest.

  “You know what? I think I might want to retra—” His gaze darts to the flood of people gathering around the flaming trash can and billowing smoke. “Fuck.” He leans back and shouts, “East, Arrow, get everyone off the vehicle. There’s a fucking everlasting fire burning outside the vehicle.”

  “Oh no! Not an everlasting fire! Wait. Maybe it’s me? I am pretty fucking hot!” a male voice amusedly shouts back, followed by a burst of giggles.

  Asher sighs heavily. “Just get off the vehicle, okay? You know everlasting fir
e can spread fast and the smoke can be toxic.”

  “Yes, boss, sir!” the same voice yells back.

  Asher shakes his head in frustration.

  His annoyance makes me very happy.

  When his gaze lands back on me, his eyes narrow into slits. “Did you need something else?”

  I cross my arms and carry his intimidating gaze, even though my pulse is soaring “Yeah, to make sure you get your ass off the vehicle.” I tap my badge. “I don’t want to lose my job because who I’m assuming is your bandmate thinks his”—I resist an eye roll—“fucking hotness caused the fire.”

  Instead of getting more agitated, Asher heaves a sigh. “Look, he’s not as moronic as he sounds. He’s just … drunk?” It sounds more like a question.

  “Whatever. All I’m here to do is make sure you guys’ dumbasses use the safety exits and get safely off the vehicle.” I sound bored, while inside, I’m a nervous wreck.

  Why, oh why, did I use the word dumbasses? It’s like I have a death wish. And he could very well grant that.

  Please just get off the vehicle so I can sneak inside and steal your lamp.

  Asher meticulously eyes me over. “You’re awfully brave for a human. Or stupid. I’m trying to decide which.”

  “Maybe a little bit of both,” I joke nervously, trying to ease over the situation.

  “Maybe.” He continues to intensely study me. “How old are you?”

  Why does that matter? “I’ll be nineteen in a few weeks.”

  He gives me another once-over then rubs his pale blue lips together. “After they get the fire put out, come back to our vehicle.”

  I blink at him. “What?”

  He wets his pierced lips with his tongue. “I might need a little entertainment later.”

  Is he kidding me? After telling me only moments ago that I wasn’t good enough, he expects me to come to his vehicle and do what? I don’t even want to know the answer, nor do I have any intention of coming back. At least not while he’s in the vehicle.

  I open my mouth to say who knows what—something that would get me into a lot of trouble—when a fey appears behind Asher and thankfully distracts him.