“This isn’t an old lady,” I shouted over the crowd’s angry exclamations. “This is the thief who’s been pickpocketing this area! He’s using a charm to disguise himself!”
“You’ve gone mad!” the perp said in a quavering old lady voice, struggling in my magically enhanced grip. “Somebody help me!”
The crowd closed in on me, and a jolt of fear raced through my bloodstream. There was no way I could escape what was rapidly becoming a mob and take the perp back at the same time. Fuck. Would I be forced to hurt innocent bystanders?
“You could do that,” Garalina said dryly. “Or you could just remove the illusion charm hidden in his false bosom.”
“Oh.” Embarrassed, I hauled him around. Sure enough, there was something glowing in the man’s chest. The angry shouts intensified as I reached down the front of his dress, but they changed to shocked cries when I pulled a green stone out. The illusion evaporated, revealing a scruffy, sheepish-looking, six-foot-tall man. Aside from the green dress he wore—which was now far too short for him—he was a perfect match for the sketch I’d memorized from the file.
“That’s him!” the jewelry shop owner crowed as he rushed out of his store. “That’s the thief!”
“There,” I said crossly to the gaping crowd. “Now, will you please let me haul his ass to jail?”
2
"First day back, and you've already found the 4th Street Pickpocket, eh?" Crowley, the booking officer, said as I handed off the perp for processing. "Seems like you haven't lost your touch. You know the others have been trying to find him for weeks now, right?"
"What can I say? I'm a natural." I grinned at him as if this were completely normal, as if I hadn't used magic to catch a criminal. "Say hi to the wife for me, would you?"
I still had to write up a report and file paperwork before I could claim the bounty, so I went up to the second floor, which was mostly used by lone wolf enforcers. To my dismay, I found that the room was almost completely full, and that the banged-up metal table and chair I'd sat at for years was now occupied by Dali, a pretty brunette from Third Squad.
"Sorry, Melcott," she said with a shrug. "Captain assigned this entire floor to us. You can use that desk, though." She pointed to the one next to her, which was empty. "That's Misha's, but he's on leave for the next week."
"Thanks." Disconcerted, I sat down in the chair and pulled the typewriter closer. This had been Sunaya's desk, back when she'd still worked as an enforcer. Technically, she still was—she'd never given up her enforcer bracelet—but it had been months since she'd accepted a bounty, now that she was so busy working in the Mages Guild. A wave of nostalgia washed over me, and for a moment I fiercely wished for the good old days to return.
Now you're just being selfish, I chided. Sure, those had been the good old days for me, but for Sunaya, they'd been hell. She'd spent her entire life hiding the fact that she was half mage—hell, I hadn't even known about it until that accident with the rhino shifter, and we'd been best friends. She'd nearly been executed when the Mages Guild had found out, but through sheer stubbornness and determination, Sunaya had become the Chief Mage’s apprentice instead. The precedent she'd set had done wonders for the magical community. The magic wipes that the Mages Guild used to administer to humans born with magic were being eliminated, and Sunaya was now setting up a school to train these children so they wouldn't have to choose between dying or having their powers stripped from them. And though there was still a lot of work to do, tensions had decreased significantly between the three races.
No, I didn't really want things to go back to the way they were. I just needed to find my new normal.
I finished typing the report and went in search of Captain Skonel. He wasn't in his office, but I found him on the third floor, talking to one of the Third Squad enforcers.
"Hey, Cap," I said, handing him the file. "I've got the 4th Street Pickpocket all wrapped up for you."
Captain Skonel smiled as he took the file. He was a handsome man in his forties, with close-cropped hair and strong features, and was one of the most straight-laced men I’d ever met. The perfect choice to take over the guild and clean up all the corruption within. "I heard about that," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "Well done! I'm glad to see you back in town. You caught that criminal like it was nothing, while Third Squad has spent weeks searching for him. Perhaps I should make you their new foreman. Have you considered applying for leadership?"
"I—"
"Her?" Terpan Royle barked. Tall and brawny, with white-blond hair and ice-blue wolf-shifter eyes, he was intimidating even on his best day. "Captain, that's insane! I've more than proved myself capable of leading since Foreman Tane left. Besides," he said, nostrils flaring as he turned his icy glare my way, "there's no way you solved the case without help. How did you know the thief was wearing a charm? I bet you used your mage connections somehow."
The enforcers who had paused to listen started murmuring in agreement.
"Maybe I figured it out because I don't have shit for brains, Terpan," I snarled back, refusing to answer the question. I knew he was scenting me, searching for any hint of a lie, and I wasn't going to give him one iota of ammunition. "I saw him reach into a bag and try to pickpocket a woman's wallet. It didn't take much to put two and two together."
"And just how did you know that old woman was him?" Terpan raked me with a sneer. His gaze paused on the torque around my neck, and moved to the strength amulet I wore. "You stink of magic, Melcott. What are you hiding?"
"Enough!" Captain Skonel roared before the argument could devolve into a full-blown shouting match. "You say you want the foreman position, Terpan, but here you are throwing a temper tantrum like a spoiled child. Enforcer Melcott did good work today—she deserves to be praised, not attacked with baseless accusations."
"Don't worry, Captain," I said coolly, meeting Terpan's enraged gaze with a level stare. I prayed to the Ur-God that the white-hot anger pulsing in my blood was enough to mask the undercurrent of fear his accusation had inspired. "There's nothing to argue about. I've always been a lone wolf, and I prefer to remain one so I don't have to deal with idiotic brutes like this.” I turned my back on the shifter and gave the captain my best smile. “Now," I said sweetly, "can you please sign the bounty slip so I can go collect my payment?"
The captain did as I asked, and I walked away, my blood boiling. I couldn’t believe Terpan was calling me a cheater! It took everything I had not to stalk out of the room and slam the door behind me, but I managed to keep my temper in check. I didn't want Terpan to see just how much his words had affected me. Doing so would be the equivalent of cutting my wrist in a sea full of sharks—once he caught the scent of blood, he’d hunt me to the ends of the earth.
And the last thing I needed was for him to find out the truth.
"That pompous oaf!" Garalina fumed as I left the building. "How dare he accuse you of cheating?"
I let out a gusty sigh. "Maybe he's right," I said as I headed home. It was still only early afternoon, but it wasn't as if I had anything better to do. I'd made damn good money for a day's work, and I was too pissed to take on another case right now. "After all, I used magic to solve a case, and I'm not a mage." There were very few mage enforcers around, and I hadn't run into a single one today. I wondered if the reform had flushed them out—they'd all been lone wolves, like me.
Garalina huffed. "That's ridiculous. You're only using the tools at your disposal. Does this Terpan not use his heightened senses and superior strength to chase down and subdue victims? He is a complete hypocrite, and you are being obtuse."
I didn't respond, and the two of us stewed silently the entire way home, both lost in our respective frustrations.
I was fumbling for my apartment key when my landlord, a reedy, middle-aged man called Reems, waylaid me.
"Hello, Miss Melcott," he said in that nasal voice of his, peering at me through his thick spectacles. "Do you have the rent?"
"Sure do." It was in the money pouch
tucked into my utility belt, but I didn't want to show him the entire thing. Experience had taught me that pulling out a pile of coins in a public place was generally a bad idea. The sight of coin could turn innocent, normal-looking people into greedy monsters. "Let me grab it for you."
I unlocked the door, and to my annoyance, the landlord followed in behind me.
"Annia!" a childlike voice crowed in my head, and I swallowed a shriek as a baby dragon launched itself off my tufted burgundy couch and hovered in the air in front of me. "I've been waiting all day for you!"
"Broghan?" I gasped, more than a little alarmed. I hadn't seen the shape-shifting Tua in over a week. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Coming to visit you, of course." His scaly brow furrowed as he glanced back and forth between me and the landlord. "Is this a bad time?"
"What is that creature?" Reems cried, his face turning purple with anger. "Miss Melcott, this is outrageous! I made it clear in the contract that there are no pets allowed! And especially not magical ones!"
"Pet?" A tendril of flame whooshed out of Broghan's left nostril, his large blue eyes narrowing. "I am no pet! Who does this human think he is! Let me get rid of him, Annia."
"There's no need for that." Garalina popped into view, hovering next to the baby dragon, and I nearly choked. "It would be far more amusing to deprive him of his voice so he can't scold you anymore. Just say the word, and I will make it happen." She lifted a hand, preparing to snap her fingers.
"No!" I shouted, ready to pull my hair out. I didn't know what, exactly, “getting rid of” Reems entailed, nor was I interested in finding out.
"Excuse me?" Reems drew himself to his full, scrawny, five-foot-ten height. To my relief, he didn't seem to have noticed that a ghost had joined us. "Are you telling me you won't get rid of it?"
"No! Gah." I leveled a glare at Broghan, whose wing flaps were disturbing the napkins sitting on the kitchen counter. "I was talking to the dragon, not you. And he's not a pet. Please, don't evict me, Mr. Reems. I'll get him out of here." Hastily, I withdrew the coins from my pouch and handed them to him, adding an extra silver for good measure.
Mr. Reems's scowl softened only slightly as he pocketed the money. "Very well," he sniffed. "But I'd better not see him again the next time I come by!"
Mr. Reems shut the door behind him with a loud click, and I sighed, slumping onto the couch. "You have got to be more careful, Broghan," I groaned as he settled down on the cushion next to me. "You can't just let anybody see you. Most people don't know what the Tua are. And I'm pretty sure that dragons aren't real, either."
"Of course they're real," Broghan said in a tone that implied I was a simpleton. "How do you think I decided on this form? I met several of them while traveling through the Alpas Mountains in the Central Continent. They're extraordinary creatures."
"Really?" Garalina's gold eyes widened as she perched on the couch's arm. She ran a ghostly hand over Broghan's iridescent green scales, then proceeded to gently tap each one of the gold spikes running along his spine and around the crown of his head, as if she were counting them. "Do they all look like this?"
"More or less," he said cheerfully. "Though the full-grown ones are much bigger. And they come in all sorts of colors. In fact—"
"You guys," I said, barely holding onto my patience. Truthfully, Broghan's story sounded fascinating, but I wasn't in any mood to hear about it right now. "You can't just sit here and pretend like nothing happened. We need to talk about this."
"About what?" Broghan sounded perplexed.
"About Mr. Reems!" I threw my hands up in the air. "You can't use magic on someone to bend them to your will just because they're being a pain in the ass. Yes, Mr. Reems was angry, but he didn't do anything wrong. He does have a strict 'no pet' policy, and I'm sure he was shocked to see you flying around in the apartment. In fact, I'm surprised he took it as well as he did, considering the form you chose.”
Broghan sniffed, then lifted his wing so he could clean the scales underneath. "Most humans would have been awed," he informed me. "Your landlord has clearly lost his sense of wonder."
Despite my frustration, a smile twitched at the corner of my mouth. "Can't really argue with that," I said, giving in to the temptation to run my hand along his scales. They were surprisingly warm and smooth as silk, and Broghan purred his approval when I did it again. "Seriously, though, magical punishments aren't a solution. Yes, it was probably a little stupid of me to rent a place right below the landlord's, but that's the bed I made and I'm just gonna have to lie in it for now."
Garalina's black brows drew together. "I'm not sure what that means."
"It means that sometimes humans just have to put up with certain annoyances."
Garalina and Broghan exchanged skeptical glances. We are not convinced, their expressions said.
"I saw you giving that man money earlier," Broghan said. "Why did you do that? To make him go away?"
"No! Well, mostly no," I admitted, remembering the extra silver I'd slipped in. "I was paying him rent. He owns the building, and since I’m staying in this apartment, I have to give him money in exchange. That's why I've been out all day, because I had to earn the money to pay him so he wouldn't kick me out of here."
"Really?" Broghan seemed shocked. "That sounds barbaric. Why would you pay to live in someone else's house? Why not just build your own?"
I shook my head. "Building a house costs a lot more money than renting an apartment, especially if you want to live in the city. It's easier to just rent."
"Fine, but why are you working so hard just to survive?" he complained. "You could use magic to make the money, couldn't you?"
"I have offered to do that several times," Garalina said in an exasperated voice. "But Annia refuses. She has some odd prejudice against magic."
"I am not prejudiced against magic," I said as Broghan turned an accusatory gaze on me. "It's just that I'm a fan of following the law, and using magic to produce counterfeit coins is illegal."
"But what if we made them identical?" Broghan asked, and he sounded so earnest I wasn't sure if I should laugh or scream. "I can do that easily, if Garalina can't. Would it still be illegal?"
"Yes, it would." I scratched the underside of his chin, and he immediately tilted his head up, a purr rumbling from his throat. How could someone so cute be so much trouble? Sunaya had assigned me and Rylan to watch over the Tua and make sure they didn't get into trouble, but I hadn't realized just how completely ignorant they were of our ways and customs. "Not even the mages are allowed to do that, Broghan. They produce a certain amount of coins each year to account for inflation, and then no more."
Garalina frowned. "What's inflation?"
I scrubbed a hand over my face. Every time I tried to explain something to either of these two, they came up with more questions. Would it ever end?
After extracting promises from them both that they would not harm the landlord in any way, I went to my room to change. I ditched my work clothes and tugged on a pair of jeans and a white corset halter top. Inspecting my tall, willowy frame in the mirror, I decided to add a pair of knee-high suede boots and a set of dangling gold earrings to match the torque around my neck, and scooped my auburn hair into a high ponytail to better showcase the jewelry. If I had to walk around with this flashy torque on my neck for the foreseeable future, then I was damn well going to own it.
Leaving some snacks on the coffee table for Broghan—he was partial to sugar cookies and peanut butter, an odd combination—I headed out to Foxy's, an up-and-coming club in Rowanville. It was run by a female fox shifter from Osero who'd moved down here shortly after the quake to take advantage of the lowered real estate prices and changing social climate, and it was quickly becoming the hottest spot to party in this section of town.
"Hey." A bear shifter stopped me at the door, eyeing the knives tucked into my boots. Those keen eyes missed nothing. "We have a strict no-weapons policy."
I raised an eyebrow, tapping t
he bracelet on my arm. "Even for enforcers?"
"Let her pass," a sultry feminine voice said, floating out on a current of pulse-pounding music. A slim redhead sauntered between the bouncers, a sly smile on her stunning face. She wore a tight black dress and four-inch heels that still only brought her up to my chin, but her presence packed quite a punch despite that tiny frame. Crafty orange shifter eyes looked me up and down, and though I usually associated the color with tigers, there was no doubt in my mind she was the fox who owned the club. "Enforcers are welcome here at Foxy's. They make the club safer, don't you agree, boys?" She winked.
"Yes, Miss Kitara,” the bear shifter grunted.
"Sorry about that," the shifter said as she escorted me inside the club. I expected the usual flashy lighting and cheap, glitzy furniture, but to my surprise the interior was tastefully decorated. Glittering black tiles and crystal chandeliers made the place sparkle in the dim lighting. Clubbers clustered around glossy high-top tables or lounged on plush leather sofas as they drank and gossiped and flirted. The dance floor was busy, but not uncomfortably packed. "Sarvan is a little overprotective. You're Annia Melcott?"
I glanced at her sharply. "How do you know me?"
She laughed, a throaty sound that made several male heads turn in her direction. "I saw your face in the papers, in one of the Chief Mage's wedding photos. You've got some powerful friends."
I raised an eyebrow. "And you'd like some powerful friends too."
Her smile widened. "Drinks are on the house tonight," she said, patting me on the arm. "Enjoy yourself."
"Thanks." Bemused, I watched her saunter away. Did she think that bribing me with free alcohol would get her an introduction to Sunaya or Iannis? And why did she want one, anyway? Shrugging, I approached the bar and ordered a drink. I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially after the day I'd had. It was time to get drunk and let loose.
Two shots of whiskey later, I made my way onto the dance floor, pleasantly tipsy. Humans, shifters, and magic users danced all around me, and I lost myself in the rhythm for a while, content to simply move to the beat.
Tempted by Magic: Mischief and Magic: Book One Page 2