Tempted by Magic: Mischief and Magic: Book One

by Walt, Jasmine

  "Asshole," Rylan growled. His yellow eyes glittered with anger as he scanned the report. "It says here the party was held at the Belgrave Mansion. I'm pretty sure Liam, one of my ex-Resistance buddies, works security for the Belgrave family. He might be willing to tell us if he smelled or saw anything unusual."

  "Excellent!" I gathered up the contents of the file. "Let's go."

  I thought Rylan would try to leverage the opportunity into getting something from me, but to my surprise, he merely disappeared into his room to change. When he came out, he was wearing a fresh pair of jeans, a white V-neck under a black button-up, and black boots that were similar to my own. Hair brushed, jawline clean, he almost looked respectable.

  But there was nothing respectable about the glint in his eye when he looked up at me.

  "Like what you see?" he purred, waggling his eyebrows.

  I rolled my eyes and opened the door. "Do you ever think about anything other than sex?”

  Rylan only smirked. "Are we taking your steambike?"

  "Er, I was going to take public transpo. My bike's still in storage."

  "We are not taking a steambus," Rylan said, making a disgusted face. "Those things stink worse than a skunk shifter's ass, and they're slow as hell. My bike's in the garage. We can take that instead."

  I stared at his broad back as we went downstairs. "Do skunk shifters even exist?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. But if they did, I'm sure they'd have stinky asses."

  My laugh echoed off the concrete walls as we entered the garage. Rylan's steambike was parked just a few paces away, a sleek, mean-looking, red and black machine that looked a hell of a lot nicer than mine and filled me with instant envy. Damn. I really needed to get my bike out of storage—maybe once I’d caught the rapist and cashed in on the bounty. Or I could rack up a few more bounties and buy myself a new one.

  Rylan slung a long leg over the bike and reached behind him to pat the seat. "What are you waiting for, Red? Get on." He handed me an extra bike helmet, then put his own on.

  "Can't you come up with a more original nickname?" I asked as I slid onto the seat behind him. I put the helmet on, then leaned my body against his and looped my arms loosely around his waist. His muscled back and legs fit perfectly against my softer curves, even from behind, and my cheeks heated as I realized just how provocative this position was.

  "I could, but why reinvent the wheel?" he asked, kicking the steam engine to life. He said something else, but the words were drowned out by the engine's shrill whistle, which was fine by me. He already had me flustered as it was—an emotional state I was not used to being in.

  Why had I decided to go to Rylan for help again?

  "Because you refuse to use my magic," Garalina said snidely. "Or have you changed your mind?"

  "No," I said, then held on for dear life as Rylan shot out of the garage.

  We tore down the street like we were on a high-speed chase, then took a corner so fast my pant leg scraped the asphalt.

  "Dammit, Rylan!" I yelled through the helmet. "You're just as bad as Sunaya!"

  "Who do you think she learned to ride from?" Rylan shouted back, laughing. I could barely hear him over the roar of the wind. "Come on, Red, loosen up and enjoy yourself for once. You've been a tight ass ever since you got back from Southia."

  I frowned. Had I really? Sure, I'd been stressed—understandably so, considering how much my life had changed—but a tight ass? Hell. Nobody had ever called me that before. Sure, I'd always been work-oriented, but I also enjoyed living my life, taking time off to travel and have fun when I wanted, and I was up for almost anything.

  But Garalina and Broghan had changed all that.

  "Don't blame me for your stick-in-the-mud behavior," Garalina sniffed. "It isn't my fault you're being so strict. Most people would be having a ball right now if they had access to the amount of power you now hold."

  "Yes, and those people are frequently referred to as 'immature' and 'irresponsi—" I started, and then gasped. Shit. I really was becoming a stick-in-the-mud! Those words were something that my mother would say, not Annia Melcott, free-spirited enforcer.

  Rylan brought the steambike to a stop outside a mansion in one of Maintown's wealthier neighborhoods, then kicked the kickstand into place. "Here we are," he said as he helped me off the steambike.

  I pulled off my helmet and looked around, noticing the old ladies and mothers staring at us through their curtains and from the park benches across the street. They weren't used to seeing steambikes in their neighborhood, especially not ones ridden by shifters.

  "Nice place," I said, looking up at the home crouched behind iron gates. It was an old, sprawling, two-story brick house surrounded by several acres of well-manicured gardens. A human stood guard outside the gate, eyeing us suspiciously as we approached.

  "Hey." Rylan nodded to the guy in greeting. "My name is Rylan Baine, and I'm looking for Liam Caspan. Is he on duty today? He's a buddy of mine."

  "He might be. What's this about?"

  "We're looking into a rape that took place on these premises last night," I said, holding up my wrist so he could see my enforcer bracelet. I hoped the guard wouldn't give us a hard time—according to the case file, the guards had refused to give the enforcers who'd responded any information.

  The guard's gaze flashed. "We're not allowed to discuss—"

  "It's okay, Boyle," a man said as he walked around the corner of the block. A bird shifter, I surmised, taking in his bony frame and hooked nose. Sallow skin, black hair—a raven, perhaps? It was hard to tell, but shifters tended to echo some of their animal characteristics in their human features, which helped narrow it down. "Rylan and I were in the Resistance together. He's okay."

  The other guard shrugged, the tension bleeding from his face. "I'm still not saying anything," he said, looking away. "If you want to talk to him, be my guest, just as long as you're not slacking off."

  "Come walk with me," Liam said, waving us along with a lanky arm.

  We fell into step behind him as he walked the perimeter of the building. "Sorry about Boyle. He's a bit of a killjoy."

  "No worries. It's good to see you." Rylan gestured to me. "This is my friend, Enforcer Annia Melcott. I'm helping her with a case."

  "The rape? Yeah, I heard you talking to Boyle."

  "Why wouldn't you tell anything to the enforcers who questioned you?" I asked. These guys didn't strike me as assholes—surely they didn't want the rapist to get away.

  Liam let out a snort that sounded not unlike a bird whistle. "We would have, but somehow those assholes knew that we were ex-Resistance, and they kept talking down to us like we were gutter trash. I decided I'd wait until another enforcer came along who had some manners." He glanced sidelong at me. "I'm assuming that since you're friends with Rylan, you don't share their prejudices."

  I shook my head. "I don't agree with what the Resistance did, but I don't share society's blind hatred of them. My sister ran off to the Resistance last year, so I understand why many of you joined up."

  "Do you have any idea who at the party might have assaulted that girl?" Rylan asked. "Did you smell anything out of the ordinary?"

  Liam nodded. "One of the waiters from the catering firm reeked of sex when he left," he said, his upper lip curling in disgust. "Of course, a lot of people smelled like sex when they'd left the party, but since he wasn't a partygoer I thought it was unusual. Plus, I caught a tang of blood on him too. Again, could just be that he cut himself, but—"

  "He was suspicious," I finished. "Do you know this man's name?"

  "No, but I can describe him. Five foot nine, curly brown hair, freckles. Maybe twenty-two years old. He works for Jim's Family Catering."

  I scribbled the information down in my notebook. "Thanks. You've been a big help."

  "Don't mention it." He waved a hand. "Just catch the bastard."

  Rylan and I headed back to the bike, leaving Liam to continue his patrol. "Sounds like the ex-Resistance
soldiers are having a hard time integrating back into society," I said. "Have you gotten any flack for your past?"

  Rylan snorted. "Of course. Why do you think I've been having so much trouble getting work?" He shook his head ruefully. "Liam's lucky he got this gig—most humans aren't prejudiced against the Resistance, but a lot of them still aren't keen on hiring shifters. It's different in Shiftertown—almost no one wants to hire ex-Resistance soldiers anymore. They consider us traitors, even though we had no idea Thorgana was planning on wiping out the shifter population. Which would have included us, by the way." He rolled his eyes. "We were all deceived."

  A wave of sympathy washed through me, and I put a hand on Rylan's arm as we stopped next to the bike. "I'm sorry, Rylan. That's gotta be tough."

  His gaze darkened. "Don't pity me, Annia. I'm not a victim. In the end, it's my fault I'm in this damn mess."

  "I'm not pitying you," I said, punching him in the shoulder. A shock of pain rippled through my fingers at the contact—were his muscles carved of stone? "I'm just being supportive. You know, like real friends are supposed to do."

  Rylan grinned, banishing the thundercloud of emotion with a flash of white teeth. His eyes lit with that familiar mischievous glint. "Friends? You mean partners, right? You know, since we're working a case together."

  I chuckled. "You're incorrigible."

  We drove to the heart of Maintown, where Jim's Family Catering was located. It was a small, single-story building located a block away from the town square, and when we walked in, the scent of freshly baked bread and roasting meat overwhelmed me. Two long counters wrapped around the room, displaying all sorts of hot and cold foods as well as sweets and pastries—a sort of deli/bakery area where customers could purchase food by the ounce. In the center were two coin registers, the one on the left for single orders, and the other for catering orders.

  "By Magorah," Rylan groaned, stopping right in the entryway to take a good whiff. "I just remembered that I haven't actually eaten a good meal today."

  "Down, boy," I said, tugging his hand as he glanced longingly at the line on the left. "I'll buy you dinner later, if you're good. But we're on a time crunch here."

  "You'd better be serious about that," he grumbled as I went to stand in line at the second register. There was a man already standing ahead of me, so I had to wait until he was finished placing his order before approaching the counter.

  "Good afternoon," the woman behind the counter said cheerfully, and pulled out a clipboard. "What event are you looking to get catered today?"

  "Actually, I'm here to talk to you about an event you catered last night,” I said, flashing my enforcer bracelet at her. "Is there somewhere I can talk to you in private?"

  Her eyes widened, and she glanced around nervously. "Umm..."

  "Hey, Aunt Lil." A young man with tousled brown curls came out through the double doors behind the counter. "Uncle John asked if you—Oh shit!" His eyes widened as he caught sight of my enforcer bracelet, and he spun back through the doors so fast I was sure he’d given himself whiplash.

  "Oh no you don't!" I cried, vaulting over the counter. But Rylan was way ahead of me, already sailing over the cashier's head and crashing feetfirst through the doorway.

  "Don't you hurt him!" the woman cried, flapping her hands uselessly as she rushed through the door behind me. Ahead, Rylan crouched on the floor, the kid already subdued with his face smooshed into the dirty, scuffed tile.

  "What is this about?" a rotund man bellowed as he rounded one of the steel counters. He wore a white chef's hat and coat, and waved a scary-looking bloodstained cleaver in one hand. I instinctively reached for my own weapon.

  "Let go of my nephew and leave this instant, before I call the authorities!"

  "We are the authorities, pal," I said, and crouched down next to Rylan. The boy struggled as I secured restraints around his wrists, but he was no match for Rylan's strength. "And your nephew here is being arrested for the rape of Alia Turner."

  "Rape? What rape?" The blood drained from the older man's skin, making his thick black mustache stand out starkly against his pudgy face. "I didn't hear about any rape!"

  "That's because he locked her in the bathroom when he was finished, and she didn't wake up until after the party was over," I snarled, hauling the perp upright. "What's your name, asshole?"

  He tried to spit in my face, but the wad of saliva missed its mark and landed on a tray of cupcakes instead. "Let me go, you bitch!” he shouted. “You can't prove I did anything! Make them let go of me, Uncle Jim!"

  "There's a shifter on duty who's willing to testify against you," Rylan growled. "He's got your disgusting scent."

  "Is this true, Nate?" Uncle Jim, who I surmised was the owner of Jim's catering, demanded. "Did you assault that girl? How could you, after the discussion we've already had about—"

  "Wait just a damned minute." I rounded on the chef. "Are you saying this isn't the first time he's assaulted someone?"

  "I've never heard of him assaulting anyone!" The man's face flushed in anger, but he wouldn't meet my gaze. "However, we have received some harassment reports on his behalf. We've been working on his behavior."

  I shook my head, disgusted. "Yeah, well, clearly you haven't been working hard enough." I jerked the restraints a little tighter, and the perp winced. "Come on, asshole. I'm taking you in."

  I marched Nate through the double doors, around the counter, and out the front door, in full view of the gaping customers. His aunt's sobs followed us into the street. I was sure the family was embarrassed as hell, but I didn't care. They'd been sweeping this kid's behavior under the rug for who knew how long, and now a young woman was paying for it. Maybe a hit to their business would teach them a lesson about condoning sexual assault under their own roof.

  Tapping my enforcer bracelet, I called for a steamcar to come and pick up the perp. Since steamcars were still a fairly new—and expensive—invention, the Enforcer's Guild couldn't afford an entire fleet, and most individual enforcers didn't drive them either. Instead, the Guild had about ten cars stationed around different parts of the city, and these could be called upon to assist with arrests via dispatch.

  "Well, it's been a ball of fun, but I'm afraid this is where we part ways, Red," Rylan said, the steamcar I’d ordered pulling up in a cloud of white smoke.

  I blinked. "You're not coming back with me to fill out the report?"

  He shook his head. "The Guild's not really my favorite place, considering I'm an ex-con and all. But," he said as he mounted his bike, "if you need me to go over the details with you, you know where to find me. Partner," he added with a wink.

  I swallowed a laugh. "See you around, Rylan," I said, pushing the perp into the backseat of the car. I felt a little pang in my chest as Rylan rode off, but that was quickly overshadowed by a surge of triumph.

  I'd won that damned bet with Terpan. And I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he learned I'd already collected the bounty.

  4

  "This is outrageous!"

  A cacophony of angry voices drifted through the captain's open door as I approached, my report in hand. Frowning, I poked my head in to find the captain standing behind his desk, facing off against a trio of very angry and—judging by their expensive clothes and upper-class accents—very wealthy humans.

  "This oaf barged onto my property today and forced my daughter to participate in a rudely conducted interview in front of her friends," a woman fumed, jabbing a bony finger at Terpan, who was standing off to the side, face flushed and fists clenched at his sides.

  He looked both chagrined and frustrated, his icy shifter eyes glittering with anger, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he forced himself to swallow whatever retort was burning in his gut.

  "It was a good thing I got there in time,” the woman said. “Who knows what might have happened if I hadn't arrived. He has no right to question her without my consent!"

  "Or my son, either," a middle-aged man barked. "Do y
ou have any idea what rape accusations can do to a young man's future? My son never laid hands on that girl—why should he have to endure this sort of barbaric treatment!"

  "I'm going to contact my solicitor today," the third woman threatened. "The nerve of you people—"

  "Ma'am," Captain Skonel interrupted, his tone polite but firm. "While I do apologize for the way my enforcer treated you today, he did not need permission to question your sons and daughters about the investigation as they are all of legal age. And while we understand your desire for discretion, it is just as important that we work quickly to find Alia’s attacker. Enforcer Royle was merely trying to gather information."

  "Gather information!" the man exclaimed. "He practically accused—"

  "Excuse me, Captain." I knocked to get their attention, then walked in.

  All eyes turned toward me, and I didn't miss the burning hatred in Terpan's as I fixed my own gaze on the captain.

  "Sorry to interrupt, but I caught the man who raped Alia Turner. He's in holding downstairs, and I just finished writing my report."

  "Let me see that!" Terpan's form blurred as he darted across the room toward me with frightening speed. He snatched the report out of my hand and began scanning it. "How do you know this is the right man?"

  "I brought a shifter friend along," I said, unable to keep a hint of smugness out of my tone. "He used his sense of smell to verify that the suspect was lying, and the truth when I finally got a confession out of him. And the shifter guard on duty that night will verify that this was the same guy who left the premises smelling like sex and blood."

  "Rylan Baine?" Terpan sneered as he read the report. "You're going to rely on the word of an ex-con? You—"

  "Terpan!" Captain Skonel barked, and the wolf shifter whirled on his heel to face the captain, his broad back ramrod stiff. "That is enough! Your behavior these past two days has been utterly appalling, and it shows in your recent work. You owe these people an apology."

  Terpan cleared his throat, his face flaming red. "I'm sorry for any offense I caused questioning your sons and daughters," he ground out. "I did not mean to upset any of you or besmirch anyone's reputation."