by Alicia Wolfe
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Dragon Shadow
Reclaiming the Fire #1
Alicia Wolfe
Copyright 2017
All rights reserved
Cover by Clarissa Yeo
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Chapter 1
I shivered as I sensed new magic. The taste of it spilled over my tongue, rich and coppery, and I could feel the almost electric tingle along my arms. The mage was doing another one of his displays. I wished I could see it from my perch behind the penthouse bar, but he was in another room.
“Nice stems, angel.”
I tried—and failed—not to roll my eyes. The man who ran the catering company had all the girls dress in what amounted to formal-wear hot pants, so I was bare-legged all the way to my heels. Heels and hot pants, and I was handing the guy who’d spoken two glasses of champagne. Glasses with long stems… Yeah, hence the eye roll.
Instead of biting the jerk’s head off, though, I smiled and said, “I hope you enjoy the drinks.” I probably should have added sir to the end of that, but I just couldn’t make myself.
Rather than leaving the bar, he lingered, leaning on the bar itself and letting his gaze travel down my bare legs again. He was a good-looking guy, dressed in a tuxedo like every other man here, and he filled his out well. But he was a class-A creep just the same, I could tell from his leer.
“You know,” he said, gesturing with one of his new champagne glasses—which sloshed a bit—he’d better not ask me to refill it—toward the dance floor, “I could talk to your supervisor. Maybe get you some time off. I’d love to take you for a twirl on the floor.”
His eyes said he’d like to do more than take me for a twirl. Still, it was kind of tempting. I’d never been to a fancy ball in a penthouse atop a skyscraper in the post-Fae New York—or any other New York, for that matter. Magical glowing balls hovered above the dance floor, casting shifting waves of golden light. In the center, a magical fountain jetted scented pink water high into the air, where the droplets seemed to fizz and flicker. Like a dream, I thought.
But this guy was an ass, and I had a job to do. And I don’t mean bartending. That was just a cover.
I put on my sweetest smile. “What would she say about that?”
“She?”
I nodded at the second champagne glass. “The lady who’s going to drink that.”
His expression soured, and so did his tone. Not even bothering to deny that I’d caught him out, he said, “Your loss, hon.”
I’d been demoted from angel to hon.
“I can live with that,” I said.
He grunted and moved off through the crowd, knocking past two people coming the other way and cursing at them.
“Nice,” said Lydia, and I turned to see my fellow hot-pants-wearing bartender. She, too, wore a black bow-tie over what amounted to a formal-wear halter top with sequins and a cute black top hat. I had to admit, the hats were kind of precious. “You’re never going to get tips that way,” she added.
I could’ve told her that soon I wouldn’t need any tips. Once Ruby gets in position.
“I’ll be nicer to the next one,” I promised.
“I hope so. I don’t want Frank to get mad at you.”
Frank was the guy who ran the catering company. The one who put us in these outfits to be ogled at and propositioned by the rich folk of the city. A real winner.
“I’ve handled guys worse than him,” I said.
Lydia raised her eyebrows. “You just joined the company today, right?” When I nodded, she said, “Well, don’t say I told you this, but Frank is on edge tonight. I think it has something to do with the Fae Lord.”
I glanced up as a woman approached the bar. Damn. She wore a dress that flowed like quicksilver—I mean, it moved, rippling like liquid silver. Metallic silver glints showed in her hair, too, and silver fringed her lashes. But that dress…I couldn’t resist a swell of jealousy at seeing it. It had been made with the help of a magic-user and must have cost a fortune. And it was gorgeous.
“One vodka, please,” she said. “In a chilled glass.”
Swallowing down my comeback—Of course, Frosty—I poured her the drink, collected a small tip, and sent her on her way.
I turned back to Lydia. “What about a Fae Lord?”
She gestured toward the festivities around us—all the nobs talking, dancing, and generally partying while a fancy orchestra made music on a stage to the right and the mage, having returned to the main room, created magical displays overhead: glittering rainbows, vistas of enchanted cities, alien skies. The host, Walther Hawthorne, my mark, had to be damn rich to afford all this. It shouldn’t surprise me he was connected to the Fae.
“One of them is coming here,” Lydia said, sounding breathless, and no wonder. Ever since the Fae Lords crossed over into our world from the Fae Lands ten years ago, society had transformed around them. Now one of the actual Fae Lords was due to show up at the party? I had to admit, I was torn. I’d never seen a Fae Lord before—at least in person; they were all over the news—and I was more than curious. I absolutely yearned to lay my eyes on one of the enchanted beings. But I couldn’t linger. As soon as Ruby was in position…
“That’s amazing,” I made myself say.
“Isn’t it?” She grinned from ear to ear, her excitement obvious. “I hope he orders a drink! I would love to…to…” She was so eager she couldn’t even get the words out.
“To speak with him?” I finished, and she did a little dance.
“That would be badass,” she agreed and turned to help the next guest.
I laughed and took a new order, then another. Just as I was pouring a drink, a voice in my head sounded. I nearly jumped.
“I’m ready,” the voice said.
Get it together, Jade. It was only my sister Ruby, talking via a magic earbud. The earbud looked just like part of my right earring. Fortunately, Frank hadn’t legislated those, as well. Ruby spoke so softly I probably wouldn’t have been able to hear her at all if I hadn’t been a shifter—well, half shifter, anyway.
Somehow, I managed not to spill the drink I’d just poured. Handing it to the guest, I told Lydia, “I need to step out for a moment.”
“No worries.” She scanned the crowd, face eager for the arrival of the Fae Lord.
I grabbed my little backpack. After excusing myself, I ducked out of the main ballroom and into the more silent corridors of the rest of the penthouse. I passed the hangar where some of the guests had arrived
in their enchanted flying steeds, airships, and cars, and I have to admit I ooohed at seeing a floating, cherry-red Jaguar hovering off the ground by magic. These rich folks sure knew how to live.
I pushed even deeper into the penthouse, pausing when I saw two guards ahead. They would prevent guests from going into the personal, off-limits areas of the home. Not a problem. I retraced my steps to the restroom I’d just passed. Going in, I locked it behind me, then quickly shucked off my hot-pants outfit, even my cute hat, and opened my backpack.
Right on cue, Ruby said, “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” I said, stepping into my sleek black leggings, then pulling the shadowy, slinky top down over my head. After that, I strapped on my thin utility belt—think a sexier version of Batman’s belt—and shoved my feet into my slippers. A glance in the mirror showed a badass, magically assisted cat burglar dressed in slinky black. Purple highlights glimmered in my raven-black hair, and my eyes burned green out of a half-smiling and, I like to think, not bad-looking face.
“I’m ready,” I said. “Game face on. You still in position?”
“Yeah, but it’s damn cold out here, sis, so hurry this up.”
I nodded, picturing Ruby on her flying broomstick—cloaked with very expensive and hard-to-come-by magic—shivering in the high-altitude winds outside the east wing of the penthouse. She had a magical stone to keep her warm, but it could only do so much. She must be freezing.
“I’ll hurry,” I promised.
Smiling in anticipation, as this was always my favorite part, I stood on the bathroom sink, only tottering a little, and used my screwdriver to unscrew the bolts around the air vent. Then I went back to the door, listened hard to make sure no one was coming, unlocked it so as not to arouse suspicion, and climbed back onto the sink. With some effort—that burrito at lunch had been a bad idea—I slithered into the duct. I’ve always been small and light, but Walter Hawthorne had ducts in proportion to the rest of his home, and I could fit by only holding my breath a little.
Using a spell I had perfected over the years, I summoned the vent grate back to the opening, sealing it behind me.
I inched forward slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. The object I needed was in Hawthorne’s study. The only problem was that, in examining the duct system diagrams, I’d realized that to go all the way to the study this way would take me an hour, and I didn’t have an hour. Ruby sure didn’t.
I merely shimmied through that tight, moldy tube until I’d passed where the two guards had been lurking, then, taking care to be even more silent than before, pried open the vent and dropped stealthily onto the carpeted floor. Take that, Houdini.
Now to get what I’d come for.
I crept through the halls, careful to be as silent as possible. Swearing under my breath—Ruby said I swore too much, and she was probably right—I passed through a doorway and into a massive mahogany study: gleaming wood everywhere, with a large draped window behind the grand desk. Objects cluttered the room: Egyptian statues, little obelisks, and an ornate gong in one corner.
I stood still, listening hard. The wind against the window, a subtle creak of wood off to my left. Was someone there? No, it was just settling.
I surveyed the surroundings with a critical eye, then crossed to the desk, moving around to the other side, alert to possible booby traps of the magical kind. Sure enough, I felt an energy barrier. The fine hairs lifted along my arms.
Thinking quickly, I scooped a certain leaf from a pouch hanging from my belt—I carried several—and said under my breath, “Lu’gan’ai, guth’gan’ai, ruthe-vain!”
The energy barrier dissolved, my hairs relaxed, and I knelt before the safe, which was built into the drawers on one side of the desk.
I studied the black metal door. My half-shifter blood enabled me to see well in the dark, so that was no problem. It also made me a little faster and stronger than normal humans, but that was all. I’d lost the ability to actually shift a long time ago. Well, technically, it had been stolen from me. But I didn’t have time to think about that now.
I reached for the dial. Shit, I thought, feeling another magical hum. A second barrier. Hawthorne was really cautious. Just what was he keeping in this damned thing? I’d come for something, but that item didn’t warrant this level of protection.
I’m asking the client for a raise. I wasn’t getting paid enough for this crap.
The next barrier proved trickier to overcome. I dug through the small pouches on my belt and plucked out a root of the tash tree and a sprinkle of hellhound-bone dust. Lathering the root in the dust, I closed my eyes and pictured a sun shining over a mountain. Holding that image firmly in my head, I said, “Open, you sonofabitch.”
The barrier dissolved, and the safe door swung outward.
Darkness gaped where it had been.
I sucked in a breath and leaned forward, having to peer hard into the gloom. It was resisting even my shifter sight. At last, though, I saw two metal shelves, some paper money, coins, a few contracts…and there!
I grinned and reached inside, plucking out the little enspelled mirror the bastard had been using to spy on my client with.
“Like to watch young women with their clothes off, do you?” I said. “Well, it’ll serve you right if other people watch you with this.”
I snickered and reached behind my back, shoving the mirror inside my pack, right into the cushioned depression I’d created for it. I was just about to rise and go when another object caught my attention. It rested on the top shelf of the safe, behind where the mirror had perched…way in the back. Without my shifter senses, it would have been impossible to see, but I did, if only vaguely. What was it?
Somehow, I just knew. This was the object Hawthorne had wanted protected. This was the thing he’d spent so much time and money building magical barriers to safeguard.
I paused.
Just go, I thought. You’ve got the mirror, girl. Just bug the hell out. Change, go back to the party, and no one will ever know who broke in here.
But I couldn’t. Some impish part of me just had to twist the knife a little deeper into the perverted, pompous assbag. Taking the mirror didn’t seem like enough punishment. That just prevented him from being more of an asshole. It didn’t really punish him for having already been an asshole.
Also, well—I was curious. And we all know where curiosity led the cat. Or, in this case, the cat burglar.
Nowhere good.
Holding back a laugh, very pleased with myself, I reached deep into the safe…deeper…almost there… My fingers brushed the object—what was it?—grabbed hold, and yanked it out.
“Ha!”
Balanced on the palm of my hand was a golden antler, as if from a deer, curved gently and sporting a dozen points. It glittered faintly in the dim room.
I felt a huge smile split my face. The thing was gorgeous.
“Ooh,” I whispered. “You’re something special, aren’t you?”
I slipped it inside a net dangling from my hips—just in case I saw something I couldn’t resist and that didn’t fit in my pouches, like now—and let it fall against my thigh. I couldn’t wait to get it to Jason’s and begin studying it with Ruby. Just what had I caught, anyway?
I rose and retraced my steps, leaving the study and making my way back down the hall. Ruby was supposed to meet me on the east terrace, collect the mirror (and anything else) and go, while I returned to Lydia and the—
Movement. Directly ahead.
I’d been passing through an intersection of two hallways, and I had barely noticed the gargoyles that perched in the shadowed corners of the crossing. Now the gargoyles’ eyes sprang open, burning with magical fire.
“Shit!”
I leapt back on instinct, my legs coiling and my hand darting to the crossbow at my hip. It had saved my ass more than once, and it didn’t make as much noise as a gun.
The gargoyles shifted on their perches. When they spun slowly around, all four star
ed at me, eerie life shining in their eyes, their own bodies tensing for action. These things lived.
“Holy jeez, Ruby,” I said. “I think there might be a change in plan.”
“Like what?”
“Like—”
Two of the gargoyles shook themselves and sprang down from their perches. Their batwings opened and caught the air, even though the little bastards couldn’t have weighed less than a hundred pounds each. One flew right at my head. I dodged aside, feeling the wind from the thing—creature?—as it flew past.
I lifted my right hand to shoot it with my crossbow, as if that would have done any good against a stone demon, and the second one slammed into my hand, sending the weapon spinning. Pain flared up my arm, but I didn’t think anything had been broken. It had been aiming at the weapon, not my flesh. I wouldn’t be that lucky a second time.
The other two gargoyles jumped down and took wing.
“Damn,” I said.
One zoomed toward my head. I ducked under it and pelted down the corridor I’d just come down, going back toward the study. A gargoyle came at me; I heard it. Twisting my head, I saw it flying straight at my back. If that thing hit me going full speed, it would snap my spine.
“Shit shit shit,” I muttered, then flung myself to the ground. The gargoyle blasted through the air right over me, then flew on.
“Jade,” Ruby said in my ear, and I nearly had a heart attack. “Are you okay?”
“I—” I swallowed. “I’m fine. New plan. Pick me up at the study. South side, same floor.”
“But—”
“Just do it!”
I pushed myself to all fours, then ran toward the study again. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw all four of the damned things racing straight at me.
Breathless, I crossed the threshold of the study, grabbed its sturdy oak door, and slammed it closed. Bang! The impact of the gargoyles nearly knocked the door off its hinges. Feeling sweat sting my eyes, I watched the door to see if it would explode inward. Instead, I heard the buzzing of the gargoyles’ wings and realized they must be drawing back for another strike. I hoped the door had some magical reinforcement, but I knew I couldn’t count on that.