Heart of Malice (Alice Worth Book 1)

by Lisa Edmonds

  I sipped my Scotch. “I came across an interesting situation and thought you might have some insights.”

  “How can I help?” Charles leaned back in his chair.

  I weighed my words carefully, as was always prudent when dealing with vampires. “I met a young woman who has low-level magic, but a family member bound her, probably when she was very young, and until a few days ago, she had no idea she or anyone in her family had any such abilities.”

  He raised an elegant eyebrow. “How distressing for her.”

  “It was quite a shock.” I smiled at the understatement. “She has no control over her magic. Because the family member who bound her passed away unexpectedly a few months ago, the binding spells began to fade, which is how we came to discover her hidden talent.”

  “Ah, I understand. The ‘uncontrolled magic’ accident you experienced on Thursday.”

  “Yes. I was able to bind her magic again, so things are good for now, but she’s decided she wants to learn how to control and use her magic.”

  “I am glad to hear it. One should always embrace one’s natural abilities. What is the problem?”

  “The problem is that her family has avoided any attention from either the cabals or SPEMA and she’d like to keep it that way. Since she’s an adult, her magic is at full strength. She needs a strong fire and air mage who can teach her to control her magic, someone who isn’t part of a cabal, and who can be trusted not to rat her out to the Agency.”

  “And my role in this?”

  I leaned forward. “You know a lot of people, and you’re an excellent judge of character. I was hoping you could find someone who would be a good mentor, and who wouldn’t sell her out for favors or money.”

  Charles looked pleased at my praise. “It is a tall order to find someone honorable these days,” he mused. “It is fortunate her power is not strong. She is less of a prize.”

  “I had the same thought. She’s low-level air, mid-level fire. It’s nothing a cabal would pay much for; mages of her power level are a dime a dozen. She does have null abilities, but there’s nothing unique about that.” Okay, I was fudging a little there, since Natalie could null a mage almost instantly and break circles simply by touching them, but he didn’t need to know that.

  Charles steepled his fingers. “I will need to make discreet inquiries. It may take some time to find the best candidates. Let me ask this: why not become her mentor yourself?”

  “A couple of reasons. First, I don’t have time,” I admitted. “My schedule is completely erratic because of my job. She’ll need someone to spend a lot of time with her, especially in the beginning, and I can’t afford to take time off. Second, I don’t have fire magic, and she really needs to work with someone with the same abilities she has. Third, I have no experience with training a new mage, much less an adult with fully developed power. I would suck at it.”

  Charles chuckled. “I doubt, my dear, if you ‘suck’ at anything magic-related at all, but your reasoning is sound. A second question: why not ask around for a mage to train her, rather than come to me?”

  Time to be careful. Charles had no idea of my background, or that I was anything more than the mid-level air and earth mage I made myself out to be, and I needed to avoid saying anything that might cause him to suspect otherwise.

  “It’s mainly a matter of expediency,” I said, going for partial truth. “You know more people already than I could meet in a year, and you know them well enough to know if they meet the requirements. No one I know would fit the bill.”

  “Perfectly logical.” Charles finished the last of his Glenfiddich and contemplated his glass. “One must savor such a fine Scotch slowly, and resist the urge to drink it so frequently that it becomes commonplace.” He looked at me. “So, now that I know your request, what do you offer in exchange?”

  Ah, yes, the proverbial deal with the devil. Money—unless it was in significant quantities—held little interest for wealthy vampires. Their preferred currency was favors. “I have a few possibilities in mind,” I said.

  “I cannot wait to hear these possibilities.” Charles’s lips twitched in a hint of a smile.

  I raised one finger. “I offer my investigative services in exchange for your time and effort in locating an appropriate mentor for my client. A single employment contract, with prenegotiated duration limit.”

  He tapped his steepled fingers together and regarded me with half-lidded eyes. “Perhaps.”

  I raised a second finger. “My expertise in wards and spellwork. I have several new and highly complex wards I can discuss in more detail if you wish. One or more projects, depending on power levels and intricacy involved.”

  “Including black wards, if I require them?”

  “Under specific conditions that I would have to preapprove.”

  “Understood. Any other offers?”

  I blinked at him, rather surprised he didn’t jump at the opportunity to have me create wards for him. “Did you have something particular in mind?”

  “I do, in fact.” Charles leaned forward, his hands folded on his desk. His gaze was suddenly very direct. “I require something very particular indeed.”

  I began to get an oh shit feeling. “Yes?”

  “I would like to drink from you, Alice.”

  I stared.

  Charles’s eyes never left mine. “I have known you for almost five years, and never in that time have I tasted your blood. I have never asked, but this is something I have long desired. In return for finding a mentor for your client, I require one drink of your blood, at a time and place to be chosen by you, but within the next month. I am not asking for any intimacy beyond the bite, unless you wish it.”

  Anxiety surged inside me, but I squashed it and concentrated on keeping my breathing and heartbeat even and slow. One did not show fear in front of a vampire; they found it arousing. Charles could not be allowed to drink from me. He would instantly know I was no mid-level mage. Natalie’s magic made her no trophy; I, on the other hand, was a great prize. I couldn’t count on our history to protect me from being auctioned off to the highest-bidding cabal.

  I looked at Charles and tried to keep my emotions off my face. He’d feel my alarm, but I hoped he’d chalk that up to a fear of being bitten. “I’m no one’s cattle,” I said quietly, using the slang term for a vamp’s food supply.

  Behind me, I heard Bryan shift closer to us at my tone. As far as he knew, I was little threat, but his job was to protect Charles. If it came down to it, Bryan would kill me before he’d let me harm the vampire.

  “I would not ask you to be,” Charles said. “Nor would I want you to be. It is a one-time arrangement.”

  “I’ve never allowed any vampire to drink from me.” I was surprised at how calm my voice sounded. “I have no plans to do so.”

  “Even if it is I who does it, and you dictate the terms?” He looked mildly surprised at my reaction. For a normally poker-faced vamp, “mild surprise” was the equivalent of being flabbergasted. I supposed Charles thought I would have no objection to donating a meal, since I’d shown no previous aversion to being around vamps.

  Many people craved the bite of a vampire. It could be intensely pleasurable, if the vampire wished it to be. No vampire ever had to go hungry; there were willing donors who happily lined up around the block for the chance to be breakfast, lunch, dinner, or a midnight snack. Countless men and women would climb over each other for a chance at what I was turning down.

  How on earth could I extricate myself from this without arousing Charles’s suspicion and anger?

  “I can’t,” I told him. “I’m honored you’d ask this of me, Charles, but I won’t be a blood meal, for anyone, for any reason.”

  Charles studied my face. I tried to keep my expression neutral.

  Finally, he spoke. “Then I am afraid I cannot help you.” His voice was calm, perfectly dispassionate.

  My mouth fell open. “Because I won’t let you drink my blood, you won’t help me find
someone to teach my client?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not?” The question popped out before I could stop it. It sounded far too much like a challenge. My fingers tightened on my glass.

  Charles didn’t move, though a muscle in his jaw twitched. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

  “I do not owe you any explanation,” he said finally, his voice still cold. “But perhaps I will say that I have asked so little, and your refusal has…hurt my feelings.”

  Oh God. I hurt the feelings of a two-hundred-year-old vampire. I didn’t wet my pants, but it was a near thing. My flat refusal was a slap in the face, and I had no way to better explain myself that wouldn’t expose my secrets. I’d probably lost an employer and an ally. No more late-night drinks at Hawthorne’s.

  Because to leave any of the very expensive Scotch would add insult to injury, I drained what little remained and gently set my glass down on the desk. Slowly, I rose, keeping my hands in plain sight. I did nothing that could be read as threatening, very aware of the vampire in front of me and the enforcer at my back.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly. The vampire said nothing.

  Carefully, I backed toward the door. Charles remained motionless, his eyes on me. I suddenly felt like a gazelle under the watchful stare of a lion.

  Just as Bryan reached to open the door for me, Charles spoke. “A moment.”

  I paused. “Yes?”

  Charles rose but stayed behind his desk. “I will contact you soon about a project for the Court that requires wards: a new facility, one hour from the city. If you are available, it will be a lucrative contract.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Charles remained standing as Bryan opened the door of the office. I backed into the hall, and the door closed in my face.

  I’d originally intended to return to the bar after the meeting for another drink or two, and maybe a chat with Adri, but I was rethinking that plan. Despite Charles’s parting comments regarding a potential contract from the Court—comments that may or may not have been designed to deescalate a tense situation—the thought of dealing with the noisy, boisterous Saturday-night crowd downstairs was suddenly unappealing.

  I returned to the main floor. As I weaved through the crush of people, I noticed Lake was gone and a couple had taken his place in the back corner booth.

  I slipped out the front door, giving Adri a quick wave as I passed. It wasn’t until I was halfway home that I started to feel the tension seeping out of my shoulders.

  When I parked in my driveway, I fired off a quick text: Home. I stuck the phone in my pocket and got out of the car, heading for my front door.

  The phone beeped as I unlocked my door. I went inside, locked the door, and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

  Wolf: Meeting went well?

  I texted back, then headed for the stairs, cup in hand.

  Me: No. We could not agree on terms.

  The response came back in seconds. Are you all right?

  Me: Unharmed.

  Wolf: What did he ask for?

  Me: Long story. Will tell you when I see you.

  A few minutes went by. I went upstairs and started taking off my clothes and jewelry.

  Beep.

  Wolf: I have Monday and Tuesday evenings clear as of now. Dinner Monday?

  Me: Maybe. Good night.

  Wolf: Good night, Allie. Sweet dreams.

  I plugged in my phone, stripped, and used soap and water to wash Sean’s blood off my wrists and neck. As I changed into pajamas and climbed into bed, I realized I was smiling. With a growl, I turned over to put my back to the phone, curled up under the covers, and fell asleep.

  Chapter 17

  Sunday morning, I rolled out of bed at eight and headed to the bathroom to shower. I dried my hair, dressed quickly, and released Malcolm from my earring.

  “What’s the plan for today?” Malcolm trailed behind me down the stairs.

  “Today we’re going to work on your masking spell.” I went into the kitchen, fired up the coffeepot, and made myself some toast with grape jelly for breakfast.

  With my travel mug filled with the nectar of the gods, I led Malcolm to the door to my basement. “Come here. I need to let the basement wards know you’re allowed to pass.”

  Once Malcolm’s energy signature was integrated into the wards, I flipped on the light, opened the door, and led the way down the stairs.

  Malcolm’s form shimmered a bit as he passed through the barrier, and he grimaced. “Oof. That felt intense. So much power.”

  At the bottom of the steps, he paused to look around.

  To the right was my library. It was modest, about half the size of Betty’s. When I escaped my grandfather’s cabal, I left with only my scars and the half-burned clothes on my back. My personal library at the cabal compound had been massive, and it was one of the hardest things to leave behind. I’d begun building a new library the moment I arrived in the city, but it was a slow process. Spelled bookcases, carved with protection runes, ran around the outside of the room, with a large wooden table in the middle.

  To the left was my spell-crafting and summoning area. Another heavy table stood against the wall. Chalk, papers, crystals, little tubes of henna, and jewelry-making materials were scattered on top of it. Four large, heavily warded oak storage cabinets against the back wall contained a variety of implements and supplies, from crystals to athames. The floor had three concentric circles inlaid into the concrete.

  Malcolm studied the cabinets. “What’s with those two cabinets on the end there?”

  “Don’t touch those.”

  Malcolm snorted. “No shit. Those are serious black wards. What’s in there?”

  “It’s where I keep all my blood magic materials.”

  “Oh, that explains the wards. Wouldn’t want anybody finding that stuff.”

  I went to the library and started scanning through the books. “I’m looking for how to mask your magical energy so you being a mage ghost is less noticeable,” I said, hunting for helpful volumes.

  Malcolm drifted over next to me. “Seems like a masking spell might work, if we can make it so anyone who senses me thinks all I have is low-level earth or water magic.”

  “I don’t know how to make a masking spell that will work on a noncorporeal being,” I confessed.

  “It’s not that different than a spell for a living person. I think I can show you.”

  We worked for most of the day on Malcolm’s masking spell, taking a few breaks to chat and rest while we refined the spellwork.

  Storing him in the earring helped hide him, but it occurred to me it wasn’t fair of me to expect him to stay in there all the time. When I’d first put him in the earring, it was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but then I’d let this case—and other things—distract me from working on the spell that was needed to obscure his identity. I’d been stashing him in there for my convenience and letting him out when I needed help, which was inexcusably selfish. I felt guilty about it and told him so.

  “No worries,” Malcolm said with way more understanding than I thought I deserved. “Since the minute I showed up in your office, you’ve been working nonstop on this case, and you’ve been injured a couple of times. There really hasn’t been any chance for you to work on this spell, but we’re doing it now, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Thanks for being so patient.”

  Malcolm shrugged. “Hey, I’ve got time. It’s not like I’m getting any older here.”

  When I was sure he was joking, I laughed. I’d had a dream about the cabal the night before, and it was a grim reminder about what he’d gone through. He seemed pretty stable for somebody who had died that way. Unlike some ghosts who go completely bonkers in the Null and come back to earth as wraiths, poltergeists, or just plain deranged, he seemed to have made it back with his sanity intact. I wondered if that was due to his strong magical abilities.
r />   “Hey, you in there?” Malcolm interrupted my musings.

  I blinked at him. “Sorry. Got lost in thought for a minute. You were saying?”

  “I was saying I think I might have figured it out.” He showed me the spellwork he’d been working on. It was similar to the spell I’d used to mask my own magic and pass myself off as a low-level air mage while I was recovering from plastic surgery on my face. He’d modified it to work on a noncorporeal body and to make himself seem like he had a low amount of water magic only.

  “Hmm.” I pondered the spell. “It might work.”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  I reached out to take Malcolm’s arm with my left hand and used my right to trace the spell in the air. In moments, his energy signature muted and transformed. I added the additional disguising spell, wove it through the masking spell, and invoked both. Then I released his arm.

  I could immediately sense the difference in Malcolm’s energy signature. While before I could sense strong earth and water magic, now I would have sworn he was only a low-level water mage.

  “Did it work?” Malcolm asked.

  I remembered he wouldn’t be able to feel the difference, just as I couldn’t feel my own masking spell that made me seem like a mid-level air and earth mage. “Yep. I think you’re officially incognito now. I guess this means less earring time for you.”

  “No offense, but thank God. It’s weird in there.”

  That made me laugh. “I do want you to come up with a spell that would let you jump into the earring if you needed to. We don’t know yet how well the masking spell will hold up under scrutiny, and I’d like you to have a bolt-hole of some sort in case we’re out and about and encounter a strong mage or a ward that disrupts the spell.”

  “Makes sense. Maybe I can work on that while you figure out how to set your basement wards so they don’t zap me when I cross them.” He looked at me sideways.

  I rolled my eyes at him. “You are such a nag. I’ll work on that tomorrow. I am seriously worn out after all this work we did today. How are you not tired?”

  “Um, because I’m a ghost?”