by Linsey Hall
“No. I just suggested the name.” He smiled at me. “It suits you.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip, enjoying the tart taste.
“You were incredible in the stronghold,” he said.
I smiled. “You weren’t so bad yourself.” I sobered a bit. “Thank you for always having my back.”
I’d learned a lot about him these last couple days. His childhood had shocked me, but it only went to prove how strong and brave he was. He’d made his own way in the world, always choosing the side of right.
He was much more than just a super strong god wrapped in a hot package. So much more.
“I’ll always have your back, Bree. I like you. And even if I didn’t, I believe in you. You’re going to accomplish great things. Important things that will make the world a better place. I want to be around for that.”
“As long as one of those great things is saving my sister, then yes. I’m up for that.” I’d do whatever it took.
“You’ll save your sister. I believe in you. And tonight, we’ll get started on planning exactly how we’re going to do that.”
Somehow, hearing him say it twice actually helped. I smiled up at him, my mind spinning with ways to find my sister and break the curse on her. I came up with nothing—but that didn’t mean it would stay like that.
I’d find a way to save her. I had to. And with the help from my friends, my odds seemed even better.
Attack by Magic
Dragon’s Gift: The Valkyrie Book 4
1
I strode down the busy street in Edinburgh, the midday sun bright in the sky. Cade walked next to me, towering over the other supernaturals that bustled around us. I couldn’t help but glance at him appreciatively as we stopped in front of an old bookstore.
I gripped the stone in my pocket, a charm that would allow us to pass through the enchanted bookshop and reach The Vaults, an underground street beneath the castle. Shady supernaturals practiced dark magic in The Vaults. It wasn’t my scene, but we needed answers, and this was the place to get them.
Right now, I wanted to know more about the Rebel Gods we’d fought two days ago.
“Do you know where we’ll find Oya?” I asked Cade. We hoped his old mercenary friend would be able to help identify one of the Rebel Gods who’d gotten away. He’d taken my sister with him, and I’d stop at nothing to get her back.
“We’ll have to ask around. Her operations used to be in Magic’s Bend, but she recently moved here.”
I nodded, then opened the door to the bookshop. The scent of leather and paper wafted out.
“Welcome.” An old woman’s voice echoed through the cluttered space. There was no one there, though. Just the old, cluttered house… which, oddly enough, could talk. If I hadn’t had the enchanted stone in my pocket, the house would have quickly evicted us.
“Hi,” I said.
“Don’t touch anything.”
I smiled. “I won’t.”
Cade chuckled. We weaved through piles of books stacked along the walls. I glanced longingly at the books. Eventually, I’d have the time to read. But until I rescued Rowan, my favorite hobby would have to take a back seat.
Near the rear of the store, we stopped in front of a portal that glowed with shimmery light. I glanced up at Cade. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He took my hand, the strong press of his palm making my breath catch in my throat. We’d shared kisses and hot looks, but that hadn’t been enough to cool my desire.
I wanted Cade. Badly.
But we were busy trying to save Rowan from the Rebel Gods, which meant fighting one battle after another, and spending every non-fighting moment licking our wounds and healing.
One day, though. One day I’d climb him like a tree.
Today was not that day, though.
I followed him through the portal, my hand in his.
It was dark on this side. I glanced up, catching sight of the night sky and stars between the roofs of the buildings. It was an illusion—in reality, there was only the rock of the mountain overhead. But it was nice that they at least tried to make it feel less like the giant cave it was.
“It’s never day in here?” I asked.
Cade shook his head. “Takes too much magic to make that much light. Stars are easier.”
Made sense.
I studied the street that we’d stepped onto. It was a narrow, cobblestone lane that wound slightly uphill and was bordered on either side by old shops built right into the stone. They looked like they’d been built in a normal fashion, until you looked closely and realized that they’d been hewn from the rock itself.
On my right, an old man stepped out of a shop that sold pygmy toads. Amos. He was stooped and bald, and his grouchy gaze brightened at the sight of Cade and me.
“You again!” he said.
“Us again.” Cade smiled at him. “I don’t suppose you can tell me where I might find Oya?”
Amos’s brow furrowed and he grumbled, “Mercenaries are troublemakers. But seeing as how you helped me fight off the mobsters who wanted to shake me down, I suppose I can help.” He glanced behind him, making eye contact with a hundred little toads who sat in his shop window. They all gazed at him with bulging green eyes, and I’d have sworn their gazes were conveying some kind of message. He turned back to us. “Yes, my toads insist. You protected them, after all.”
I grinned, imagining myself as Bree Blackwood, protector of pygmy toads. In reality, I’d just seen some masked men kick down his door a few weeks ago and hadn’t wanted old Potts to get hurt. But saving pygmy toads was cool, too.
“You can find Oya on Lucifer’s Lane,” Amos said. “She runs her operations out of the office over the Dark Dragon Pub. Only been there a few weeks, but already there are more bar fights.”
“Thank you,” Cade said.
Amos grumbled and nodded to us, then turned and went back into his shop, singing “Hello, my lovelies” to his pygmy toads as he went.
We hoofed it up the street, which was lit by the golden glow of old-fashioned gas lamps. Dark magic permeated the air here, smelling of all sorts of unsavory things like old socks and wet mold. There was the occasional whiff of light magic as well, though, which generally smelled and felt nicer. The whole place wasn’t bad, after all. Just most of it.
I glanced at my watch. “We only have a few hours till the meeting at the Protectorate.”
“We’ll make it,” he said.
“Good.” We needed to be at that meeting. We were gathering all our allies and friends to help us figure out how to track the Rebel Gods who’d stolen my sister Rowan years back. She’d been so close when we’d fought them two days ago, but I’d lost her.
I wouldn’t lose her this time.
We just needed Oya to help us identify one of the Rebel Gods Cade had thought he’d recognized. He planned to share his memories with her and hoped she’d be able to give us more info.
We passed all sorts of supernaturals—shifters, demons with serrated horns, goblins, and witches with warts on their noses. So cliché. Some of the warts didn’t even look real. Almost as if they were fashion statements.
We turned left onto Lucifer’s Lane, an even darker alley that was cast in shadow. Most of the gas lamps were out, and the sidewalk gleamed slickly with some kind of fluid I didn’t want to identify.
“I think I’ll stick with the Whisky and Warlock,” I muttered.
“It is the preferable pub,” Cade murmured.
A man leaning against the wall in the shadows glowered at us, but didn’t give us any trouble as we hurried by.
The door to the Dark Dragon was small and sturdy looking. Cade pulled it open and ducked under the low lintel. I followed, not needing to stoop.
As soon as we entered, the feeling of hostility rolled over me. The place was low ceilinged and dimly lit. A smoky fire belched into the room, surrounding the tiny wooden tables with a hazy gray cloud. Men and women of all species sat around tables, playing cards a
nd drinking. They had nothing in common except an aura of danger.
Then they all turned to look at us, as if the door to the Dark Dragon didn’t open often. About twenty pairs of eyes gleamed through the darkness, riveted to the doorway where we stood.
“This is a private club,” growled a large goblin to the left of me. I’d never seen one as big as him—normally they were only a few feet tall. This guy was over six feet, and his wrinkled green skin and hawked nose were the only indicator of his species.
“We’re here to see Oya,” Cade said.
“Well, she’s not interested in seeing you,” the goblin said.
“I’m sure that’s wrong.” Cade grinned, a lethal slice of a smile that would have made me shiver if it’d been directed at me.
Here, in this den of thieves and murderers, he looked right at home, as comfortable as if he had his feet kicked up in front of his own fire. If I hadn’t known what a good guy he was, I’d have thought he was their leader.
The whole room roiled with powerful magic, but there was an even stronger signature overhead. It sounded like a battle cry and felt like the press of cold steel against my neck. Oya was another warrior god, just like Cade.
“I think she’s upstairs,” I murmured. “I feel her magic.”
Cade nodded slightly. “We’ll go for the stairs. Mercenaries are protective, so we may have to fight.”
“I’d be delighted.”
Cade took one step forward, and everyone in the room surged to their feet.
Jeesh, they took this “private club” thing seriously.
I drew my sword and shield from the ether, and Cade did the same. I could handle this with magic, but honestly, I was in the mood for a tussle.
“Oya!” Cade stepped toward the stairs.
The room erupted in a roar. A red-skinned demon in front of me hurled a fireball at us. I raised my shield just in time, and the flame crashed against it.
I sprinted for him, slicing down with my sword before he could power up another blast. My blade cleaved a gash in his shoulder, and he spun away from me, gripping the wound.
Next to me, Cade was a whirlwind, his blade flying so fast I could hardly see it. He never delivered a killing blow. No doubt Oya would disapprove of us killing her mercenaries.
I felt the next attacker more than saw him and whirled, my blade outstretched. The huge goblin was only three feet away, his giant black blade raised to strike. My sword sliced him across the belly, and acid green blood spilled forth. He roared, bringing his blade down toward my head.
I hoisted my shield just as his sword crashed against it. The metal rang from the blow, and my arm ached.
I kicked, nailing him in his wounded stomach, and he stumbled back.
A woman with long fangs and pale white skin raced for me, claws outstretched. They were twelve inches long and gleamed white.
Shit.
Poison coated those lethal claws, no doubt. I stashed my sword in the ether and drew one of my daggers, then hurled it at the woman.
It plunged into her shoulder right before she reached me, and she screeched, falling backward. I drew my sword again, spinning to find Cade.
A group of three-horned demons charged me. I raised my shield, ready to deflect their blows.
“Stop!” The voice rang with power.
All of our attackers halted in their tracks.
My gaze flew to the narrow stairs. A beautiful black woman stood on the lowest step, her hair closely cropped and her dark eyes sharp. She wore dark brown leather pants and heavy boots. Her strappy top was cut from the same leather, but threaded through with copper embellishments. Power rolled off of her—the sound of a war cry and the cold press of steel that I’d sensed earlier.
“Oya.” Cade grinned. “Good to see you.”
Her lips flattened. Yep, she was clearly annoyed. But there was pleasure in her dark eyes when she looked at Cade. I saw it in my own eyes when I looked in the mirror after being around him.
A demon stepped forward, his gaze on Oya. “We tried to stop them, Your Eminence.”
“Cade is an exception to the rule.” She flicked her fingers in a come-here motion. “Follow me. And someone bring us some drinks.”
I glanced at all the mercenaries, each of whom looked at us suspiciously. But they did as their mistress commanded, parting to allow us to follow Oya up the stairs.
We joined her in another small, low-ceilinged room. The decor was Spartan—just a table with chairs and some weapons leaning against the walls. Papers were scattered over the tables, and she gathered them into a pile, flipping them upside down.
A job, no doubt.
She glanced up at us as we entered, calmly assessing us with her penetrating eyes.
“What brings you here, Cade?” Her voice was tightly controlled. This was a woman who always won. Always. “I thought you said you’d never walk with our kind again.”
“I’m done being a mercenary. But I need your help.”
Her eyes gleamed with interest as she sat and then propped one ankle on her knee. She leaned back and grinned. “Is that so?”
Cade nodded sharply and then sat, too. I followed, my gaze riveted to Oya. Cade had said she was an African war goddess of the Yoruba people. She’d been his boss once, long ago.
“You abandoned us on a job. Why should I help you now?” she said.
“You were kidnapping children to sell them,” he said. “I wanted no part of that.”
She smiled, her white teeth gleaming in the dim light. “We weren’t. That was the front for our operation, but we weren’t.”
Strangely enough, I believed her. Oya might lead a band of mercenaries, but her magic didn’t feel dark. She had plenty of honor.
Cade looked at her, his gaze hard. Trying to decide if he believed her.
“But you left before you could find out the details of the plan,” Oya said. “You never did trust easily, Cade.”
Maybe because his family had locked him in a cell when they’d learned he was an Earth-walking god.
“Still, I can’t say that I blame you,” Oya said. “You never were meant to follow.”
“And you were always meant to lead,” Cade said.
“And lead I have.” She nodded at a bruiser of a man who stood in the doorway, a tray in his hands. His magic smelled of burning rubber.
He hurried in and put the tray of beers on the table.
“That’ll be all, Stan,” Oya said.
“Aye.” He lumbered out, quick for such a big man.
“You’ve found a new life for yourself at the Protectorate?” she asked.
“I have. And we now have a job that might involve another god.”
Her brows rose. “A god? Not an Earth-walking one? I’d have heard if there was another one of us.”
“Aye, a Rebel God. His magic made that obvious. I believe he may be a Celtic war god, but I am not sure which one. There are many. And you always knew your gods.”
She nodded. “Indeed. And you want me to confirm his identity?”
“Aye, if you can.”
“How do you propose to do this?”
He dug into his pocket and raised a clear crystal disk. “A projector.”
Hedy, the Protectorate’s resident magical genius, had given him the device that would project his memories onto a wall so that others could see them.
Oya nodded appreciatively. “That could work.”
“I hope so. You’ll help us, then?”
She shrugged. “I can try. If only to prove that I’m not the monster you assumed I was.”
“You’re ruthless, Oya. How was I to know you didn’t intend to sell those children? That you were actually rescuing them?”
“You could have asked. But that kind of trust is outside of your wheelhouse, isn’t it? And you’d been wanting to leave the mercenary lifestyle for a while.”
“That’s true.”
The air sang with tension. They’d been friends once, as well as colleagues. But that ha
d changed.
Cade raised the projector again. “Ready?”
Oya nodded.
Cade held the projecting crystal straight out, in front of his face. He closed his eyes, obviously envisioning what he wanted to share with Oya.
An image flashed on the dark wall across from us. It was the scene from two days ago that was burned into my memory—the moment when I’d realized my sister was still alive. That, in fact, she was the powerful woman who had hunted us on behalf of the Rebel Gods. She’d been cursed somehow, because she’d never hurt Ana or me. Not if she had any say in it.
In the image, a massive, horned god wrapped arms around Rowan’s waist, and he dragged her into the golden mist of the transport charm. More gold glittered on his horns, and he was a hulking figure. His magic had smelled of sulfur.
The image faded.
Cade turned to Oya. “Anything?”
She frowned, gaze intense. “I think that’s Cocidius.”
Cade nodded sharply. “Good. I didn’t know if it was Cocidius or Segomo. Or even Rudianos. We don’t have time to waste hunting the wrong god.”
“It’s definitely not Segomo or Rudianos. I’d bet money that is Cocidius.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and typed a short message to Ana, revealing the identity of the Rebel God. She’d spread the word to Florian, the librarian, so he could find everything of interest about Cocidius. Florian didn’t have his own phone, as he was a ghost who last walked the earth during the seventeenth century.
“Thank you,” Cade said. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for doubting you.”
Oya inclined her head. “Maybe work on those trust issues some.”
As if he couldn’t help himself, his gaze landed on me. A tiny light of happiness lit in my chest. He did trust me. At least, mostly. More than Oya.
Cade and I had something. We just had to muddle our way through what it was.
Twenty minutes later, we hurried across the lawn toward the Protectorate castle. We’d hightailed it out of the Vaults and headed straight back through the portal for our meeting with the rest of the gang.
Cade glanced at his watch. “We’ll be just in time.”