Spellbinding Starters

by Annabel Chase

  "Or ring the bell," he said. "I suspect a knock wouldn’t be loud enough to get his attention in a place as cavernous as this one likely is.” He came to stand behind me, and ran a hand down the length of my arm, guiding my hand back to the hillside. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation in my body. “Focus your will. I assume you know how to do that."

  "Yes," I said, my voice cracking slightly. I could feel the heat of his body behind me, which surprised me. I expected vampires to be cold.

  "I'm going to say the spell," he said. "I want you to feel the magic flow through you, and repeat my words.”

  I suppressed a shiver as his breath tickled my earlobe. "I'm ready." He had to hurry before I became too distracted by his close proximity.

  I repeated the spell, my breathing ragged. I prayed Gray didn’t notice.

  A metal door materialized in front of us, along with a single button.

  “That must be the bell," I said, and pressed it. Although we heard nothing, a window appeared in the door at eye level.

  “Who calls on Master Kilond of Clan Soren?” a voice asked.

  “Graydon Alastair Mappleworth III and his human companion,” Gray said, injecting a note of authority into his voice.

  “I’ll see if the master’s available,” the voice said. The window disappeared, leaving only the metal door.

  “Why do you keep identifying me as your human companion?” I asked.

  “Because certain paranormals can’t tell you’re anything more than that without help,” he explained. “Dwarfs and elves don’t have a built-in minotaur shit detector the way vampires and shifters do.”

  “Wouldn’t it be more intimidating to say I’m a sorceress?” I queried.

  “I want you to put them at ease,” he said. “I’m the one meant to intimidate them.”

  “Gotcha.”

  The door eventually opened, and a pixie with tiny orange wings greeted us. Even her hair was streaked with orange. Kilond Soren clearly had a favorite color.

  “The master will see you now. This way." She fluttered ahead, and we followed her through a maze of rooms until we reached a conservatory at the back of the hillside home. Through the glass, I could see the rock formations of the mountain base.

  Kilond Soren was facedown on a table, being massaged by multiple scantily clad pixies, all with orange accents of one kind or another. He didn't bother to look up to greet us.

  "Gray Mappleworth,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. “I know you by reputation.”

  "This is quite a home you have,” Gray replied. I noticed that he averted his gaze so as not to linger on the attractive pixies. For whatever reason, that pleased me.

  “Isn’t it, though?” the dwarf said, as the pixies pounded on his back and calves with their tiny fists. “That’s quite a compliment coming from someone of your lineage.”

  I realized that there were more Soren sigils in the conservatory. The dwarf was as proud of his heritage as Irish-Americans on St. Patrick’s Day.

  “I’d like to talk to you about a friend of mine,” Gray said. “Calvin Motley.”

  The dwarf turned his head to the side, so that we could hear him more clearly. "Terrible tragedy, isn't it? I spoke to a warden about him recently. A wereass called Theo Armitage.”

  “He’s not a wereass,” I corrected him. “He’s a wizard.”

  The dwarf chuckled. “Your human friend has a sense of humor. How refreshing.” He waved the pixies away and dropped his feet to the floor. He didn’t bother to cover himself, instead standing in front of us in all his dwarfen glory, save for an amulet around his neck in the shape of a pig. His family’s sigil suddenly seemed appropriate.

  “She looks tasty,” Kilond said, admiring me. “And very healthy for a companion.”

  “She’s not that kind of companion,” Gray said. “And I’d suggest you put on some clothes. I wouldn’t want to take this as a show of disrespect.”

  Kilond snapped his fingers, and a pixie reappeared with a white robe. She draped it over his shoulders and he shrugged his arms into the sleeves. He tied the rope around his bulbous waist and said, “You were a friend of Motley’s, you said?”

  Gray gave a crisp nod. “I understand he did a little work on the side for you.”

  “That’s right,” Kilond replied. “He wasn’t my first choice, but he was available on short notice.”

  “May I ask why you needed his services?” Gray asked. “You seem pretty well fortified here.”

  Kilond smiled, pleased. “Thank you. I have made an effort. My clan has suffered at the hands of others for generations, and it’s been my goal to put an end to it.”

  “By playing tactical defense?” Gray asked.

  “Something like that,” he said. “There have been threats against my clan as of late. Old rivalries rearing their ugly heads. The head of the International Dwarf Council is an old enemy, and seems determined to make my life miserable.”

  “If he’s the head of the council, why is he threatening you?” I asked.

  “Mogus is paranoid,” Kilond said. “He’s been threatening anyone who could possibly claim his seat as chief on the council. My grandfather once served as chief, so that’s made me a target.” The dwarf shook his head dismissively. “I hired Motley as security for certain events. He accompanied me to a recent roundtable discussion because I knew Mogus would be there.”

  “Did he do a good job?” Gray asked.

  “He performed as expected,” Kilond said.

  “Then why did you fire him?” I asked.

  Kilond appeared surprised. “He told you about that?”

  “No,” I admitted. “Theo Armitage said it.” Not to me, of course, but the dwarf didn’t need to know that.

  “He missed his last job,” Kilond said. “I was furious. I didn’t have anyone for backup. He called me from one of the gambling houses to apologize. Sounds like he was desperate to make money.”

  “Did you hear from him after the call from the casino?” I asked.

  “No, not that I expected to,” Kilond said. “He had too much pride to ask to come back. It’s a shame. He was handy with a weapon, and I’ve got the next council meeting this week. I’d feel a lot better on Tabletop Mountain with Motley nearby.”

  “You hold your council meetings on top of a mountain?” I queried.

  “It’s a dwarf tradition in this part of the world,” he said. “Top of the world and all that.”

  “Did Motley ever mention any issues to you?” Gray asked. “Someone he owed money to? Or maybe someone out to get him?”

  Kilond shook his large head. “We didn’t really engage in personal conversations. It was all about the job, so he could get paid. That was his main focus.”

  Poor Calvin Motley. His financial problems took over his life—and then resulted in his death.

  Gina LaFontana was hanging upside down from a trapeze when we entered the warehouse on Acacia Street.

  “Can you do that?" I asked Gray, jabbing him with my elbow.

  “What makes you think I'd be able to do that?"

  "She looks like a bat," I said matter-of-factly. "Isn't that kinda your thing?"

  He gave me a look that suggested I had soared past moron and gone straight to full-fledged imbecile.

  When Gina saw us, she flipped off the trapeze and tumbled through the air, landing firmly on both feet. Her sandy-colored hair was streaked with hot pink and her clothes reminded me of the type of extravagant dance class outfits that preschool girls wore in the human world.

  “I wasn't expecting visitors today," she said. "Are you looking to schedule a private performance?"

  “My fiancé and I are thinking about putting on a show for our guests at the wedding," Gray said, and I tried not to react. Advanced warning of our cover story would’ve been nice. "We heard you’re open to unusual requests."

  “Congratulations," she said, beaming. "What a handsome couple you make. It's not every day you see a vampire settling down with a mortal."
r />   He snaked an arm around my waist and squeezed. "When you know, you know.”

  I swallowed hard. "We want to do something that our friends and family have never seen before. Weddings have become so boring. They're all the same.”

  "I know what you mean," Gina said. "I attended a ceremony recently that was only four hours long. Can you imagine? It was as though they couldn’t think of anything interesting to include.”

  Four hours? How involved were paranormal wedding ceremonies? "If we want to do a performance together with a trapeze like you have," I said, "what kind of magic would you use to facilitate that?"

  Gina flicked her fingers dismissively. "No magic. Part of the charm of this type of performance is that you use the body nature gave you. No enhancements.”

  Gray and I exchanged puzzled glances. "It was our understanding that you provide magic,” he said.

  Gina offered a sympathetic smile. "I am a mage, yes, but I’ve mostly put magic behind me. I can assure you that your guests will be far more impressed with your performance if you do it without help. That's what sells my show. Besides, you’re a vampire. Your natural grace and athleticism lends itself to this type of activity." She winked at me. "And I'm sure I don't need to tell you that you are a very lucky girl in that regard.”

  The back of my neck grew warm and I felt Gray's fingers dig gently into my flesh.

  "If we had time to train," I said, "then maybe I could master a few moves. The wedding is in a few weeks, though. Our friend suggested you because he knows you can offer a quick blast of magic, no questions asked."

  Gina's curiosity became evident. "Which friend is this? My clients tend to be discreet."

  "And normally he is," Gray said. "It's only because he knows of our tight schedule, and he’s in the wedding party. I think it was partly for his own selfish purposes. He wants to be entertained, and, you, apparently, entertained him when he delivered a package to you.” Gray flashed an engaging smile. Man, he was charming when he wanted to lay it on.

  Apparently, Gina was as weak as I was when it came to incredibly attractive vampires. Imagine that. “You must be referring to Mr. Motley. Yes, he rather enjoyed my performance. Twice, as it happens.”

  “Twice? He only mentioned one visit,” I said.

  “Once to drop off and once to pick up,” she clarified. Sort of.

  “That was seriously impressive magic you used on the package,” I said. "What do you call that?"

  “Detachment magic for the first part,” she replied, and I detected the note of pride in her voice. I suspected that was half the reason she continued to take magical side jobs. She was proud of her masterful abilities, which made her loath to give up magic entirely.

  “For the sword and the ring?" Gray asked.

  Gina seemed taken aback. “I didn’t realize he was permitted to share so liberally.”

  “We’re involved in the job,” I said, hoping that may statement made sense.

  “I see. Enough chatter," Gina said abruptly. "I have to keep the blood flowing, or my muscles will stiffen up." She gave Gray a pointed look. "Not a problem for you, I realize."

  "We understand," I said. "We can talk while you swing around. It might give us some ideas for what we can do at the wedding."

  Gina's face lit up. "I have a better idea. Let's see what you two are capable of. I will use it as a baseline."

  I froze. We were actually going to have to get on a trapeze? The wedding was meant to be a ruse. I didn't think she’d actually call our bluff. Gray seemed unperturbed, at least on the outside. Who knew what was going through the vampire’s mind? He was difficult to read, even for me, and I had a lifetime of reading people. Then again, I hadn't known any vampires until now.

  “We'd be more than happy to watch you," Gray said. “After all, we need to see what we’re getting ourselves into."

  "Caution is good, but risk is better," Gina said. She pointed to the trapeze. "You first, vampire. Show me what you can do."

  Gray's hand slid away from my waist, and I suddenly felt cold. He stood below the trapezes and, just as I was about to ask how he’d be able to reach it, he launched himself into the air and grabbed it with both hands. Wow. I didn't know vampires could do that. It wasn't quite flying, but it was a definite display of gravity resistance.

  I thought about what Gina had said regarding detachment magic. The only thing to detach from the weapons would be the spirits, but what would be the point in that? Someone didn’t like the idea of spirits lurking in their weapons collection? On the other hand, the ring on its own wasn’t a weapon. There was definitely a piece of the puzzle we were missing. It was going to take more than elemental magic to figure this out.

  Gray swung back and forth for a moment before releasing the bar and rolling through the air. He caught the bar again on his way down, his moves effortless and graceful.

  Gina cast a sidelong glance at me. "I get the feeling he's not the one in need of help.”

  “You're not wrong there," I said quietly.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Harrington House was just as impressive in daylight. We arrived on Gray’s motorcycle this time—no swans required. Icarus seemed a little disappointed.

  I look forward to your broomstick lessons, if only to have company up here, the owl said.

  You have other birds, I said. You don’t need me.

  You just want to stick close to the vampire, Icarus accused. Even if you could fly, you’d choose the motorcycle.

  I’m changing the station now, I said.

  Icarus made a noise to imitate static.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea to come back here?” I asked Gray.

  “He knows more than he told us,” Gray said, slowing the motorcycle to a stop. “I don’t take kindly to being spoon fed minotaur shit.”

  “Will his fairies be around?” I asked, my gaze darting left and right. Those ladies would only be too happy for another crack at us.

  “I suspect he keeps them around for special events, not every day,” Gray said. Sort of like Calvin Motley, ironically.

  We approached the arched front door and it struck me that the door would have been more at home in a castle.

  The same servant that met us at the lake answered the door. “Good day to you. Mr. Harrington has instructed me to bring you to him.”

  “He knows we’re here?” I queried.

  “The daytime wards don’t allow for surprises, miss,” the servant said. “This way to the sunroom.”

  A vampire lounged around in a sunroom? “Is the sun not an issue for you guys? Is that whole thing a myth?” I asked Gray.

  “No, it’s real,” he replied. “Only in Terrene, though. Our realm allows us to walk freely in the daytime. It’s one of the reasons vampires tend to stay on our side of the border.”

  “What would happen to you in the human world?” I asked.

  “Me? Nothing. I have protective magic, but not all vampires have the means to access to that kind of power.”

  When we arrived at the sunroom, the first thing I noticed was an antique table ladened with crystals and other incandescent stones. The sunroom was the ideal place to show them off. My father’s red healing stone sat proudly at the front, the newest addition. My heart began to race at the sight of it.

  “Welcome back,” Anton said. He was curled up on a window seat, reading a familiar book. He wore Gucci sunglasses and a jogging suit that would’ve made any rapper proud. Apparently, his elegance was reserved for his auctions.

  “Is that Twilight?” I asked.

  He broke into a broad smile. “It is! I can’t put it down. The story is intoxicating.” He set the book facedown beside him. “How can I help you today? Have you come to admire my private treasure again?” He tittered. “That sounded awfully dirty.”

  “We’re here to find out why you withheld information from us,” Gray said, without a trace of amusement. He was not in the mood to mess around and it showed.

  “I see.” Anton swung his
legs over the window seat and stood. “And which information did I withhold?”

  “Your intermediary,” Gray said. “She didn’t just want to know how much the sword would fetch at auction, did she?”

  “That was the gist of it,” Anton said, crossing the room to retrieve a porcelain cup from the console table.

  I felt Gray tense beside me. “I’m interested in more than the gist, Harrington. I’d like the details.”

  “Seems you already know,” Anton said. “Why bother to ask?”

  “Because now I wonder what other information you’re sitting on,” Gray said. “And why withhold the piece that you did?”

  Anton’s nostrils flared. “I wanted to protect Lorelei. I consider her more than a business associate. She’s a friend.”

  “Is that why you tipped her off that we’d be coming?” I asked.

  Anton pretended to be surprised. “Did she know?”

  Gray balled his fists. “Listen, Harrington…”

  Anton’s fangs dropped. “You’ll want to stop right there, Mr. Mappleworth. I’ll not tolerate threats in my own home. That’s quite disrespectful, as I’m sure your family would agree.”

  “My family doesn’t condone interfering with an investigation, either,” he replied sharply.

  Anton cocked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “But it’s not an official investigation. You severed all connection with the AMF, or do my informants have it wrong?”

  The tendon in Gray’s neck pulsed. “They don’t.”

  This pissing contest could go on forever if I didn’t step in. They were immortal, but I wasn’t.

  “Lorelei was told to ask you about the price of the sword alone, without the berserkers bound to it,” I said. “We know a mage was hired to separate the spirits from the weapon.” There was no need to mention the ring.

  Anton swiveled to face me. “And the sword would have been worth a good deal less, under those circumstances. I told Lorelei as much.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us as much?” Gray demanded.

  “It didn’t seem like an important detail at the time.” Anton splayed his hands. “How about I make it up to you?”

  Gray seemed wary. “How?”