Bound by Sorcery: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (The Half-Goddess Chronicles Book 1)

by Antara Mann

  I chuckled, feeling relieved. “When you put it that way, I guess I am making a mountain out of a molehill.”

  Awen smiled and said, “It’s good to be cautious. However, if you think the money you’ll be paid as a magic mercenary is the solution to your and Naomi’s dilemma, I don’t see a problem.” He hesitated for a moment before asking me, “Have you noticed any change in your… ah… abilities?”

  I stared at him, then answered carefully. “No, everything’s normal.”

  Awen nodded thoughtfully. I’d always had the feeling that he knew what my mother was, and therefore what I was — besides an elemental mage, of course. At one of our brief meetings, my mother had told me that my father had been a very accomplished mage. He could control all the elements, but was especially talented with fire and air — skills that I had apparently inherited from him. That was all she’d ever shared with me about my family line, but even the freshmen at the Magica Academy knew that the ability to self-heal isn’t part of the elemental mage package.

  I leaned slightly toward Awen and, looking him in the eyes, said, “I'm already twenty-four years old. I’m begging you. Won’t you tell me what kind of blood flows in my veins, other than that of an elemental mage? Please, Awen. I need to know if I’m going to survive in the supernatural sandbox of Chaos Corporation.” I didn’t know if it was my pleading voice, the sincerity in my eyes, or the late hour — or all those things put together — but he had just opened his mouth to say something when my mobile dinged.

  I swore aloud — of all the times, why now? I ignored the first and second rings, but at the third one I got irritated and answered the call — it was Naomi. Thank you, Noe, for spoiling the moment I’ve been chasing for years! I had been trying to extract this information from Awen ever since my mother had disappeared from my life, but he always managed to evade my questions.

  “Hey, is it an emergency, or can I call you back? Okay, great, I’ll talk to you when I get home then. Bye.”

  I hung up and came over to stand next to Awen, who had gotten up and moved to the fireplace, staring at the burning logs and yellow-orange flames. It was nice and cozy, watching the fire.

  “So, you were about to tell me something about my abilities when Naomi interrupted us,” I said, wryly.

  He turned his head toward me.

  “Whatever you decide, Alex, know that you’ll do great.” He hesitated. “I want to give you something. Will you wait here for a second?”

  “Yes, of course I will,” I replied, slightly surprised.

  I started at the fire burning in the fireplace, and listened as Awen climbed the stairs to the upper floor and went down the upstairs hallway. A few minutes later, the sound of his footsteps coming back down the stairs pulled me from my reverie.

  He handed me a well-wrapped package in leather cloth. “Here you go, Alex. I think you will need it, whether you stay here in Ivy Hills or go to one of the big cities as a magic mercenary with Chaos Corporation.”

  I unfolded the package. Inside was a mid-sized knife with a long silver blade. Looking closely, I saw what looked almost like runes inscribed on its blade.

  “Thanks, Awen,” I said and smiled. “You are amazing, as always.”

  “This is not just an enchanted knife, but also a highly dangerous one. Use it only when you need to kill your enemy.”

  “It’s so beautiful.” I slid my fingers over its surface, touching the symbols on the blade and feeling their magic pricking on my skin. “What are these markings? They look like runes, but nothing I’ve seen before.”

  “They’re druidic symbols — not something you will have learned about in Magica Academy,” he said with a chuckle. “‘Victory and Liberty.’ That’s what the inscription on the blade says, in an ancient Celtic language.” Awen smiled. “This knife belonged to your mother, Alex.”

  His words reminded me that, a moment ago, I’d thought he might reveal to me the knowledge I’d yearned after for so long. My heart sank in my boots and I turned to him, invoking the name of the Celtic goddess he worshipped above all others. “In Brigitta’s name, Awen, I beg you with all my heart — please tell me what I am.”

  But he only smiled, gave me an affectionate hug, and said, “Soon you will learn, my child, soon. Whatever is meant to happen will happen in due time — not earlier, and not later. Trust me.”

  I cursed my bad luck and he smiled, as if reading my mind, then headed for the stairs. Visiting him had eased a little of my tension but I still didn’t know what to choose.

  He stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned to me. “Oh, one last thought: Do you occasionally hear a voice in your head?”

  His sudden question took me by surprise, and I chuckled. “Do I look that insane, Awen?” I asked in a lightly mocking tone. The truth was that I had been hearing a voice in my head for the last several months. But that was normal, right? At least, that's what I'd been telling myself.

  He stared at me for a moment, then said, “I’m serious, Alex. If you begin to hear a voice inside your head, please listen to it.”

  He nodded curtly, then climbed the last stairs and disappeared from my sight, retreating down the hall and leaving me to ponder. What did he mean about the voice in my head and what could this knife tell me about my mother? Was she a warrior? I looked once again at the symbols inscribed on the blade. Victory and Liberty. I liked that.

  Sure you do, said an unmistakable voice in my head.

  Chapter 2

  I woke up early the next morning from my recurrent nightmare about my mother. In the dream I was walking along a dark corridor, and flaming torches on the walls cast a dim light. Suddenly, I saw her in the distance before me and called her name. “Andrea!” She turned to me, smiled, and looked upward — and I awoke with a scream.

  What did it mean? I had, of course, shared my dream with Awen. According to him, it had no particular prophetic significance or meaning. As he put it, “The dream only shows your deep melancholy and desire to glimpse your mother again.”

  Naomi couldn’t tell me anything more substantial, though she was somewhat more supportive.

  I got out of my bed and quickly began to get ready for work. I took a shower, then put on my workout clothes and began with my morning yoga routine. If anything could help ease my sadness about my mother, it was yoga. But even that wasn’t enough, apparently.

  After I finished my yoga exercises, I changed into my business clothes. Since I’d be going to Chaos Corporation later on, I went for a more professional look than usual: white shirt, a black skirt falling to just above the knee, and stockings. After applying some discreet makeup, I looked at myself in the mirror with approval. My dark-brown hair reached the shirt collar and the fitted shirt highlighted my breasts, and my earrings were the same sea-blue color as my eyes. I looked fabulous. Too bad I was single. “Brendan, you're a loser,” I said out loud.

  Maybe the problem was with me. I shouldn’t have fallen in love so quickly with an arrogant werewolf, let alone one working for the Magic Council, the governing body of all supernatural beings in the United States. Still, there had been perks to my short-lived relationship with Brendan. Not only was he incredibly sexy — I hated how sexy he was — with a good sense of humor, but the job he had offered me at the Council as an independent supernatural consultant had paid quite well.

  I’d started working with Brendan when a vampire attacked me one evening and he got a glimpse of my skills firsthand. He’d been intrigued by my fighting abilities and magical talents, and he asked me to work for the Council not long after.

  I had met him through a mutual friend, a classmate from the Magica Academy, at a party. He knew I was a mage, but didn’t know about my fighting skills. Awen had helped me greatly as I learned to fight, but frankly, I think I was simply born as an excellent fighter. Brendan and I worked together till he was transferred to NYC, the center of supernatural activity in the States. Since then, the jerk hadn’t phoned me even a single time — not even to ask me how
I was.

  I liked working for the Council, though. The paychecks were pretty good and the work was anything but boring. Yet I had to admit that in the course of my work for them I encountered a lot of monsters and vile supernaturals. That was part of the job, I guess, but it was almost as if I were a magnet for weirdness. Even Brendan had once joked about how I seemed to attract all sorts of magical freaks. I had to get him out of my head! Brendan wasn’t worth thinking about at all.

  Irritated by my weakness in thinking about him, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of hot coffee. If I was doing fine as an independent supernatural consultant, I would also be great as a magic mercenary in Chaos Corporation. Feeling more confident, I walked out of my room and went downstairs into the shop.

  Naomi and I inhabited a cozy three-story building, and we each had our own set of rooms, Naomi’s on the second floor and mine upstairs on the third floor, while our shop took up the first floor. After I'd come back home from Awen’s last night, Naomi and I had chatted for a while. I’d asked her how it had gone with Desmond and whether anything interesting had happened between them. Naomi asserted very vocally that he wasn’t her type and pointed out the vibe we’d both felt in him: There was something about his aura, some hint of dark magic. Before I’d headed upstairs to bed Naomi told me she had some work to do today, so I was on duty today.

  After I turned off the alarm, opened the blinds, turned on our laptop, and set up the cash register, my work day officially began.

  I went online to get Chaos Corporation’s number. When I dialed it, a melodious female voice answered the phone. I asked if they recruited mercenaries, and she immediately asked if I had magic and what type, and whether I’d had suitable magical training. After I introduced myself and told her about my education and abilities, she replied, “Chaos Corporation always needs well-trained mages. Please send us your resume and your school transcripts, and we will contact you for an interview.”

  I wrote down the email address she gave me, and hung up the phone. A quarter of an hour later, I was about to send my CV when my mobile rang, startling me. It wasn’t even nine a.m.; who could be calling me? I hoped nothing had happened to Naomi. When I looked at the display and saw Brendan’s name, anger and excitement overwhelmed me at the same time. What did the bastard want? It took me a few seconds to decide: Let it ring. I had no intentions of answering his call. When it finally went to voicemail I breathed a sigh of relief and began to unpack the latest shipment, but rather than leave a message, he called back immediately. I tried to stay focused on my task, completely ignoring his calls. After several calls he finally gave up, and I rejoiced.

  I had just started to wipe dust from the shelves when I heard his pleading voice in my mind. “Alex, where are you? Please answer me.” I swore silently. I’d forgotten that, as a shifter, Brendan possessed the ability to communicate telepathically with other supernaturals.

  “You’re not welcome, Brendan. I’m surprised you’re even calling me right now. What happened to make you remember my existence?”

  “God, Alex, do you have to act like a teen? I’m sorry I haven’t called you, but I’ve been pretty busy.”

  ‘That’s not good enough, Brendan. Now, if you don’t mind, I have some business to attend to. I am pretty busy myself,” I snapped at him.

  Just then the amulet over the shop door jangled and a girl came in. She looked around shyly and asked for a love potion. I smiled and showed her the shelves containing the bottles with love potions.

  “Please, Alex. I need you. The Magic Council needs you, too,” Brendan’s voice continued in my mind.

  “This conversation is over,” I said. I left the girl looking over the potions and went back to the register.

  “Alex, there’s been a horrible murder with supernatural features. We need your help.”

  I hesitated for a moment.

  Brendan continued, “A senior banker was killed at his NYC office. The sign of a long-extinct order was carved into his chest. The Council is worried that this may heighten tensions in the supernatural community if the culprit is not caught quickly. And who knows what potential strife that might lead to…” His voice trailed off. “We all need your help.”

  The news from Brendan caught me completely off-guard, especially him saying that they all needed my help. Brendan could speak to me telepathically, but couldn’t hear me unless I consciously projected my thoughts, so I didn’t have to worry about him ‘overhearing’ things I didn’t want him to. I contemplated his words while I rang up the girl’s purchase and bagged it.

  “The Council is offering double the usual rate. Please, Alex!” Finally he asked, “Are things really that busy in your shop?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, they are. I just sold a love potion to a teenage girl. Don’t you realize how important my job is?” I replied aloud. Since the girl had left, I could talk freely now.

  He chuckled inside my mind, but then his tone became serious again. “I need your help ASAP. If you can’t do it, let me know now so I can find someone else to help.”

  I frowned, and bustled around behind the cash register while I tried to think. We needed money, and the Council certainly paid well — and for this investigation the wage would be doubled. Instead of starting work with Chaos Corporation, moving to one of their centers in the big cities, and having to work with complete strangers, I could work with someone I already knew — Brendan. And when we solved the case, then I’d never speak to him again. I sighed. True, he was an arrogant asshole and I was pissed off at him, but the money mattered more than my wounded ego. I doubted Chaos Corporation could offer better pay than the Council was promising.

  “Well, have you made a decision?” Brendan's voice sounded again in my head.

  What’s the worst that can happen if I investigate this murder? I thought. And in the process, I could take the chance to knock Brendan down a peg or two for having abandoned me — not that I’d take the case just because of that.

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, I accept,” I said. I hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

  “Excellent! Come to the first floor of the Universal Credit Bank building, number one West Wall Street. It’s near the Holy Trinity Church.” Although I couldn’t see his face, I could swear that he was grinning. There was a hesitation, then he added, “Alex… thank you.”

  “Not so fast, Brendan. I intend to give you hell.” I smirked.

  ***

  It took me about an hour to teleport. Brendan was impatient and contacted me mentally several times, but I couldn’t do it any sooner. I couldn’t use my own magic because there were still eight days until the full moon and a teleportation would exhaust me. Besides, the distance from Ivy Hills to Manhattan was significant, and I didn’t know whether I’d turn up at the right place or somewhere else, like Pittsburgh or . My teleportation abilities were only at their peak during the full moon; at other times, they were rather sloppy. I certainly wasn’t going to gamble on them right now. The better alternative in this case was to ask Naomi for help. As a hedge-witch she had special boundary talents, including making transportation charms. However, she kept them locked away safely in her apartment, so I had to ask her for one, and it took her a little while to get to the magic shop after I phoned and asked for her help. When she finally came, I told her about my new assignment.

  “Double pay?! But that’s great, Alex! Who’d have thought?”

  I made a face — was it so unbelievable, the steep rate the Council was offering me?

  I changed into a white top, black cotton pants, and comfortable boots, and of course my leather jacket, and gathered my most valuable possessions: my weapons. I had a chakram — enchanted so that it would always return to me after being thrown — which Awen had given me for a long-ago birthday, and a few crescent knives, which were also enchanted. I wondered whether to take the special knife Awen had given me yesterday, but since it had belonged to my mother, to me it was more than just a weapon or a magical object. Somehow it did
n’t feel right to use it on this criminal case. I’d keep it for really special occasions.

  Finally, I was ready to teleport. When I got to the address Brendan had given me, I looked around to orient myself. The Holy Trinity Church was to my left, and the tall glass building of UCB Bank was nearby. The flags of the USA, the UK, Germany, France, Canada, and a few other countries were waving at the entrance. I got the vibe that this building was home to businesses worth billions of dollars. Inside the lobby, I headed for the reception desk, but Brendan was already striding toward me. He had obviously been waiting for me. His hair was carelessly ruffled, and several days’ worth of stubble graced his face. His magic rolled over me, powerful and alert; he was ready to attack should the need arise. Supernaturals’ magic often, for lack of a better word, ‘tasted’ like its owner. In Brendan's case, it felt like a strong malt whiskey in the back of my throat, combined with a strong mountain breeze — his bond with nature and being a werewolf — and it had charmed me from the very first time we met. I mentally cursed my lack of willpower: Why did he have to be so sexy? His tall, muscular body wasn’t helping, either.

  “Hello, Alex. I’ll cut to the chase. The victim is Daniel Stone, a CEO of UCB. The murder took place on the eighteenth floor, in Stone’s office,” he said as we headed for the elevator. Waiting for the elevator to come, he handed me a folder with data about the victim. Beneath his jacket, I saw his gun — as an officer on the Magic Council, he carried a gun with silver bullets, in case of a monster’s ambush.

  “According to my shifter sense, the victim was probably killed last night around midnight, or just before. We’re still waiting for the coroner’s report, which we should have by the end of the working day. The cause of death seems to be blood loss from a stab wound to the heart. You can see it in the folder; there are photos for you to review, and once we get upstairs you’ll get to see the murderer’s artwork face-to-face.” He smiled grimly.

  I had planned to annoy and tease Brendan at every turn but now, seeing his worried face and feeling the anxiety emanating from his body as he filled me in on the details, I faltered. Maybe I’d wait before I put on my bitch hat. The elevator arrived with a quiet beep, and we got in.