Tempted by Magic: Mischief and Magic: Book One

by Walt, Jasmine

  The man's shiny scalp immediately broke out into a sweat. "I don't know anything about a group of thugs," he said, his gaze darting toward the open front door and then back to me again.

  "Are you sure?" I leaned against the counter, lowering my voice. "They haven't come to your business, demanding protection money?" I glanced behind him at a wall that looked like it had been recently patched, then back at him again. "You're standing a little funny. Like someone who’s broken a rib recently."

  "This is none of your business!" The man's face went deathly pale, then flushed bright red as he glared at the boy. "Yolian! Did you bring this nosy woman into the shop on purpose?"

  "I—I just thought—"

  "I don't pay you to think!" He slapped a hand on the counter, making the boy jump. "Miss Melcott," he said in a tight voice, "I appreciate your concern, but I do not require your services as an enforcer. Please leave my shop at once."

  "This is ridiculous," Garalina snapped, popping back into my head before I could answer. "This man clearly knows something, and by choosing to remain silent, he is complicit with these extortionists! You can't just walk away."

  "If these extortionists even exist," I reminded her. But I glanced at the boy again, who was trying too hard to hide his fear. He'd been brave, flagging me down like that even though he knew his boss would get pissed—even though he knew that anyone would peg me as an enforcer on sight, what with my leather outfit and bracelet. If there really was a group of thugs running a protection racket, this kid had just painted a target on the shop by inviting me in here. He had to know that, and yet he'd thought it was worth the risk.

  "Fine." I sighed internally. "What do you want to do?"

  "As the head priestess of my tribe, I've been called to help judge many a criminal in my day," Garalina said proudly. "There is a special method I use to make suspects talk. It typically involves placing a hand on their forehead and searching their memories."

  A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. "Are there any side effects?"

  Garalina gave a mental shrug. "It is rather invasive and will leave him with a terrible headache, but that's nothing a stiff drink won’t fix."

  But I was already shaking my head. The thought brought me straight back to my primary school days, when the Mages Guild had sent a representative to test all the children in my age group for magic. The test itself hadn't been so bad—merely a strange rippling sensation as the mage's spell searched my body for any trace of magical ability—but a classmate of mine had tested positive for magic and had been forced to undergo the magic-stripping procedure the same day. She'd been taken away for the magical procedure, so I hadn't seen it done, but the resultant mental damage had left her with a terrible slur and a hampered ability to process information. She'd gone from being the top student in our class to someone who could barely do simple math.

  "Sorry to trouble you, sir," I said, inclining my head. "I'll be on my way."

  "This is insane!" Garalina cried as I left the shop. "None of the people I've used that spell on have been damaged by it."

  "And how would you know?" I snapped. "Half of them were exiled or executed, weren't they?"

  "And half of them weren't!" White-hot anger spiraled through the bond. "You know what, I am done arguing with you. If you want to work cases with your hands tied behind your back, then you can do it without me!"

  She disappeared from my mind, and I sighed, not sure if I should be relieved or not. I didn't want her to be upset with me, but I refused to feel guilty about my choice. If there was any chance that this spell could inflict damage on this man, there was no way in hell I was doing it. I’d just have to rely on good old-fashioned detective work, the same way I'd done for the past ten years.

  With that decision, I made my way up the street, stopping at every open shop to interview the owners. Unfortunately, this protection gang had them all scared shitless—not one of them would talk or even admit that there was a gang.

  "Oh, come on," I argued with a tea shop owner. "You're really going to tell me you got that black eye from slipping on a pair of chopsticks someone left on the floor?"

  "I clumsy," the man said in broken Northian. "Ask wife—she say to me all the time."

  I scowled. "And the broken window?" I pointed to the front of the store. It couldn't have been broken long—there were still bits of jagged glass along the edges, even though the owner had temporarily patched it up with tape and wax paper.

  "Kids!" The Garaian threw his hands up. "Kids play ball in street!"

  Right. Kids. Playing catch in the middle of a fairly busy street, blocks away from any residential areas.

  "I don't understand why you're lying to me," I said to another shop owner, a Northian who owned a hardware store at the outer edge of the neighborhood, which to me meant he had plenty of weapons lying around to defend himself with. "It's obvious everyone in this area of town is being shaken down. You know that if you just said the word, I could have these guys arrested. The mages are cleaning up the corruption around here—they would never tolerate this kind of thing if they knew about it."

  "Mages?" the man spat, his eyes glittering with anger. "The mages are just as corrupt as anyone else in this town! You might think things have changed, but I'm not so naïve. The mages have never cared about humans, and they're not about to start now."

  Frustrated, I returned to the stationary shop.

  Yolian's eyes widened as I entered, and he looked like he was about to shoo me out, but I held up a hand.

  "I'm not here to pester you again," I told him, pulling out my notebook. The shop owner wasn't around, but I figured he'd be back soon, so I quickly scribbled my name and address down, tore out the paper, and handed it to the boy. "Just...contact me if anyone here changes their mind about wanting to talk. Or if anything bad happens."

  Yolian nodded, tucking the paper into his trouser pocket. "I'll keep my eyes and ears open."

  "Good. But be careful. I don't want you drawing the wrong kind of attention."

  Disappointed, I headed back to the Enforcer's Guild to drop off the arsonist case file, then went home.

  I was just rummaging through my fridge, looking for something to cook—why was there only ham and broccoli in here? Had Broghan eaten all my food?—when an official-sounding knock came at the door. Sighing, I abandoned my quest and opened the door, hoping it was a friend who’d come by to distract me from my mood.

  “Afternoon, Melcott,” Enforcer Dalmouth said. Two other enforcers lurked directly behind him: huge shifters with broad shoulders and hulking frames that took up most of the hallway. Before I could gather my wits, he handed me a piece of paper stamped with a judge’s official seal at the bottom. “We’ve got a warrant here to search your apartment.”

  “For what?” I cried as the three men pushed past me. Rage and anxiety churned through me as the enforcers spread out, beginning what I knew was about to be a very thorough, very invasive search. “I’ve already told you about the torque.”

  “Yes, you did,” Dalmouth said, and began rummaging through my kitchen drawers. I hoped the bastard cut himself on one of my steak knives. “But we have orders to search for more artifacts, or anything that might shed light on the origin of that torque you’re wearing. Read the warrant—it’s all in there.”

  I scanned the warrant, resisting the urge to crumple it up in disgust. Why was this happening? Surely Captain Skonel wouldn’t have ordered this—it was clear that I was a favorite of his, what with the way he kept trying to convince me to take over Third Squad…

  “Terpan.” I slapped my hands on the kitchen counter, and Dalmouth looked up at me. “Terpan put you up to this, didn’t he.”

  Dalmouth’s lips flattened into a thin line. “We aren’t allowed to disclose who made the complaint—”

  “You don’t have to.” I shook my head in disgust. Men! Why the hell wouldn’t that asinine shifter leave me alone? Couldn’t he see that I didn’t give a rat’s ass about that stupid position?


  “Annia!” Garalina popped into the room, dressed in full priestess regalia. Her dark eyes widened with horror as she watched one of the enforcers tear apart my living room. “What is the meaning of all this? Why are these men invading your space?”

  “They have a warrant to search my apartment.”

  “What does that mean? And why haven’t you removed them already?”

  Somehow, I managed to dig up the patience to explain this part of the legal system while Dalmouth and his cronies ransacked my place.

  “This is outrageous,” Garalina fumed when I was finished. Her dark eyes glittered with rage, and bits of golden magic sparked from her fingertip as she jabbed it in the direction of the bedroom. “That man is having far too much fun searching through your underthings. You should let me turn him into a weasel to teach him a lesson.”

  “While I would love that, I’ll have to ask you to refrain,” I said wryly. I took a deep breath, willing myself to be calm. After all, it wasn’t like I had anything else here. I was a law-abiding woman. The only thing I’d brought back from Southia was the torque, and only because I couldn’t take it off. These guys weren’t going to find anything.

  “Dalmouth!” the enforcer searching my living room called. He straightened up from the couch, holding out a large green stone. “Look what I found.”

  I leapt forward at the same time as Dalmouth, but he grabbed the stone before I could.

  “Damn,” he said, inspecting the stone.

  It looked like an emerald, cut into an unusual star shape, and was roughly the size of a robin’s egg.

  “A stone this big’s got to be worth a pretty penny.” His gaze narrowed as he looked my way. “Where’d you get it, Melcott?”

  “I’ve never seen that stone in my life!” Fear pounded through my blood now. How could something like that be hidden in my couch? I’d bought it brand new only two weeks ago! “Someone must have left it here.”

  Dalmouth raised his eyebrows. “Any idea who?”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t have a lot of visitors,” I admitted. “My mother’s been here a few times, some moving people. I’ve got a friend or two who like to pop in from time to time. You,” I said pointedly.

  “Careful there,” Dalmouth said softly. “I never actually came into your apartment, and accusing me of planting evidence is extremely bad taste.” He sealed the emerald in a bag, then tucked it into his pocket. “We’ll be checking this to see if it’s connected with any jewel thefts.”

  Dalmouth started to turn away, no doubt to finish his search of my apartment, but Garalina raised her hands in the air, making a complicated gesture with her fingers, and a flash of golden light briefly lit the room.

  “What are you doing?” I cried when all three men froze in place. By the Ur-God, could they still see and hear what was going on? “I told you that you couldn’t use magic without my permission!”

  “Don’t worry,” Garalina said, rolling her eyes. “These men have no idea what happened to them, and they won’t realize time passed without them as long as they aren’t frozen for too long. But we cannot just let them walk out the door like this—we have to do something!”

  “Like what? Toss them out the window and hope for the best?” I shook my head. “We can’t just get rid of them, Garalina. People would notice they went missing, and I’d be the primary suspect. Besides, I’m not that kind of person. I follow the law, and I don’t hurt or manipulate people just because they’re inconveniencing me.”

  “Inconveniencing you?” Garalina threw her hands up in the air. “Annia, these men are trying to remove you from the Guild! Isn’t your position as an enforcer the thing you’ve been fighting so hard to keep? The reason you won’t use my magic in the first place? And now you’re going to throw it all away, just because some jealous enforcer is trying to frame you? How do you know he didn’t sneak in here and plant that jewel himself?”

  I scraped a hand through my hair. “Terpan might be competitive, but he’s not dirty,” I said, though that very idea had been lingering in the back of my mind. “He wouldn’t stoop that low.”

  “No, but he’ll send a team to tear your home apart even though you’ve made it clear you don’t want the foreman position and you’re only trying to do your job.” Garalina shook her head in disgust. “I cannot believe you’re defending that dog.”

  “Broghan was here yesterday,” I reminded her. “He disguised himself as a throw pillow at one point, remember? The jewel could be his, some souvenir he picked up and accidentally left behind.” I sincerely hoped he hadn’t stolen it. “He’s the most likely suspect in all this, so we’ll ask him the next time he comes back. I’m sure this is all just a big misunderstanding.”

  Garalina huffed. “Very well. But don’t say I didn’t try.”

  She waved a hand, and the enforcers immediately started moving again.

  “Let’s finish up here, boys,” Dalmouth said. “Wouldn’t want the captain to tell us we weren’t thorough when we file our report.”

  My cheeks burned with anger as he winked at his men, and I fisted my hands behind my back, forcing myself to stay still.

  The men finished their search of my apartment relatively quickly, and it was only after they had shut the door behind them that I started shaking with fury.

  Garalina tsked. “What a mess they’ve made.” She floated around the apartment, tracing a bare toe along a set of scuff marks on my new hardwood floors. The couch cushions had been tossed to the floor, my kitchen counters were covered with utensils, and through the open door I could see that my mattress had been stripped. “How can they come in here and upend everything yet not be required to put it all back?”

  “Because they’re assholes, that’s why,” I growled, grabbing my keys from the hook by the door. The mess in my apartment could wait until later. Right now, I felt so violated I could barely stand to be in here. “Go visit your goddess or something, Garalina. I need some time alone.”

  Storming out of the apartment, I hoofed it twelve blocks to Mike’s Steam Repair Shop, where my bike was waiting to be picked up. I’d wanted to save up a bit more cash before I grabbed it from him, but I was tired of relying on steambuses to get around. The truth was, I needed to blow off some steam of my own, and there were few better ways to do that than on the back of my ride.

  “Hey, Annia,” Mike greeted me as I entered the garage. He was fiddling with one of the tires of a beautiful red bike that had been hoisted into the air on a lift. “You here to pick up your ride, or you finally ready to trade in that hunk of junk for a better one?”

  “Hey, don’t insult Bailey like that. You know she’s my baby.” I tossed him a small pouch of silver.

  He grunted, catching the pouch with a greasy hand. “She may be your baby, but everyone’s gotta retire at some point,” he said as he went to the washstand to clean up.

  I waited for him to finish, then followed him out back to the shed where he stored bikes for customers like me. “But then again, you do take good care of her,” he said, then pulled the cloth covering off.

  “That I do.” I beamed at the sleek, glossy bike. She’d been a dull grey when I’d bought her ten years ago, but I’d repainted her a beautiful red-wine color the moment I’d been able to afford it and had upgraded and replaced her parts over the years. I hadn’t bought her with my family’s money either; she’d been the first major item I’d purchased using the bounties I’d earned.

  “You know,” Mike said, scratching his beard as I started up the engine, “you never did tell me why you named her Bailey.”

  I grinned. “Bailey was the name of a drug smuggler I caught. He had a huge bounty attached to him because he burned down the mansion of a prominent socialite and is the reason I was able to buy Bailey in the first place. I named her in his honor,” I added with a wink.

  Mike rolled his eyes. “You enforcers are a weird bunch!” he yelled as I peeled out of his lot.

  Yes, yes we were. B
ut then again, it took a special kind of crazy to do what we did, didn’t it?

  * * *

  “Well you’re looking chipper,” Stanley remarked as I walked in with my bike helmet tucked under my arm. “You got your bike back?”

  “Sure did.” And I’d just spent the past two hours racing her through the streets and across the bay. The ride had helped clear my head and given me a new appreciation of my city—the city I’d dedicated my life to protecting. Sure, there were assholes like Terpan, but the people here were vibrant, alive, full of color and creativity. This place was my home, my haven, the city I always came back to no matter how far afield I traveled. Riding Bailey, the bike that had seen me through years of cases and road trips alike, had reminded me of my own history. This rivalry with Terpan was just one of many bumps in the road, and considering all the shit I’d been through with Sunaya, fighting rebels and unearthing conspiracies, it wasn’t even the biggest bump. I’d get through this, and it would become a distant memory just like the rest.

  “Well, before you mosey on down to the board, the captain wants to see you in his office. He said to tell you to head right there as soon as you walked in.”

  I blinked. “Oh. Okay.” He probably wanted to pester me about giving up my freelance status, which was fine. I could refuse him, and also tell him about the suspicious gang activity I was looking into on Dove Street.

  I rode the elevator up to the top floor, where the captain’s office was. Main Crew, which had been renamed First Squad, was on this floor too, and quite a few of the enforcers looked sideways at me as I passed them. My skin prickled as I caught a few smirks and even what I thought was a pitying look, but I forced myself to brush it aside. Word must have spread that Dalmouth was looking into me, but what did it matter? Everyone would realize soon enough that he was barking up the wrong tree.