Paranormally Yours: A Boxed Set

by Alisha Basso

  “May I offer refreshment?”

  “Water,” Rayne said.

  “Are you certain? We have tea, lemonade, or wine, if you prefer.”

  “Water,” she repeated, glancing at me.

  “Wine,” I said, giving Rayne a half-smile. She studied me for a moment, her dark hair sliding along her cheek. She was all lethal sophistication, her eyes slightly turned up at the corners, as if she had Asian ancestry. I had never met a shapeshifter before, since I spent most of my time on the human side of the Twin Cities, where shapeshifters were rare. I wasn’t sure why. But now I lived with her, and had learned she was reserved but not distant. We were still figuring each other out.

  The blonde mage returned with a glass of water and a goblet of wine on a tray. Rayne took the water and downed it in one long swallow. She set the glass back on the tray. I took the goblet and thanked the woman.

  Then, without any warning, Flynn popped into the room, materialized out of nowhere, and all I could think was, great, now I had another creature that could zip in and out of a room at will.

  Rayne’s eyes widened. Flynn flew to my shoulder and settled there. I turned to look at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t know. I just felt that you needed me and I came. Should I go?”

  “No. you can stay.”

  “Archmage Wilding will be with you in a moment.” Her face was pinched, as if we had a lot of nerve summoning him like some lackey. I wasn’t interested in explaining to her why it was urgent. She would just have to think us rude. She was startled by Flynn. I could see it, but she didn’t say anything.

  “I would guess she’s not a fan of the OS, Rayne.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether she is or not. If not for the OS, this plane would be uninhabitable for humans. We don’t need to explain ourselves.” It sounded tough and arrogant coming from her, but I had no doubt that what she said was true. Without the might and power of the OS, the watchdogs for the ruling bodies, a normal, natural life would be impossible.

  A thrum of power washed over me. It moved along my skin like a soft electrical current in an elusively familiar sensation. I was sipping the wine at the same moment that the door opened. I swallowed wrong and it went down really wrong. I coughed at the same time that my jaw went slack. I had been in the presence of some beautiful men lately, Talon coming to mind without any effort, and, although that fae was in class by himself… Archmage Tarquin Wilding. Wow.

  Everything decelerated to a slow-motion crawl, my coughing a sluggish rasp, my breath loud in my ears, the soft rustle of the mage’s robe as it moved against his broad shoulders and body, the displacement of the air in the room as he filled it almost to bursting.

  He was wearing a purple cowl, and the color filled my vision as it enhanced the cobalt blue of his eyes. The hood covered his head, so I couldn’t see the color of his hair, and his face was in light shadow. His eyebrows looked jet black. The strong curve of his jaw, with that just-barely-there stubble outlining a mouth that was…my heart bumped, then bumped again. I took a breath, then it suspended in my chest. Familiar? Did I know him? From before my memory loss? Something prickled on the back of my neck and traveled over my body. His eyes flared and crackled like there was lightning trapped inside. The pressure in the room changed, tightened my skin and pressed against my eyes.

  Then Rayne hit me on the back, right between my shoulder blades, to help with my coughing fit, and I closed my eyes and tried to control my spasming throat.

  Things sped up to normal again and, as he passed me, he met my eyes and raised his hand. Suddenly my throat eased and the coughing stopped. I felt dazed, as if someone had taken hold of my arms and shaken me like a rag doll. My knees were wobbly. Feeling weak, I wondered, if he could alleviate my spasms, could he also close my throat?

  Without conscious thought, I stood, set the wine on the edge of his desk. I strode up to him, and shoved the hood back from his head. I heard Rayne say my name, but I ignored her. I was compelled, as if the Archmage had ordered me to remove the hood from his head.

  His hair was jet black, almost as dark as Rayne’s, but where hers absorbed the light, his reflected it in the silky, shaggy shoulder-length hair, now mussed, some of it wisping across his forehead. He didn’t react, almost as if he’d known I was going to do it. Almost as if he expected it and welcomed my touch.

  My fingers tingled as the power rolled off him, tangible and sweeping. I stared into his eyes, looking for something, a spark, anything, but he just looked back at me, his eyes warm and open, but not with recognition.

  Yet, I was certain I knew him…a long-forgotten dream, or maybe wishful thinking.

  He tossed his head and the hair settled in place as he smiled a full, irresistible, knowing man-smile.

  And his smile sparked something inside me, as if I had seen it many times…in a teasing way, in an intimate I-can’t-breathe way, in a delighted, amused way. But still nothing registered in his face, and I felt fragmented and painfully tingling, like a limb which had been asleep. Almost as if I had just come back to myself.

  My hands rested on his shoulders, the robe’s velvet plush and warm from his body heat beneath my hands. I stumbled, catching my heel on one of the rugs. I backed up too fast, trying to regain my balance, and Flynn flew off my shoulder in an agitated flurry of wings.

  He flew to the back of one of the leather chairs and perched there, saying nothing. In fact, no one spoke until I backed into Rayne.

  She steadied me with her hands on my shoulders. “Easy, Lily.”

  Her voice soothed me, warm and calming instead of the cool distance I had learned to expect.

  Regaining my balance, I faced the Archmage once more. “Have we met?”

  He shook his head, and I again felt compelled by his power. Blue eyes under heavy brows mesmerized whatever he gazed at. His mouth was superbly formed, with a full bottom lip and a provocative bow for the upper. Peppered with a five o’clock shadow of dark hair, his lean jaw was strong, his cheekbones lethal.

  He reached up and unclasped the fastening at his throat and pulled off the robe, setting it on a coat rack just behind his desk. He wore a black shirt with an upright collar and dark trousers tucked into leather boots.

  “Ladies, please sit.”

  I chose the chair in front of his desk, the one where Flynn had perched. Rayne complied, too, crossing her legs. He waited until we were seated and then settled into his own chair. Leaning back, he smiled.

  “I would have remembered meeting you, Ms. Starbuck.”

  I got a jolt when he said my name, remembering how Talon said it was powerful. But I felt strongly that the Archmage was lying. But didn’t feel I could call him on it. It wouldn’t do any good, anyway. I had no memory, and it would be the height of stupidity to call him a liar when I couldn’t make it stick.

  “What brings you to my sanctuary?” he asked.

  As Rayne took point, I couldn’t seem to look away from Tarquin. When he spoke, his voice was a deep, hypnotic purr. I felt pulled more and more under his spell. Was it because I was so sure we knew each other intimately?

  Frustration was a hard ball of heat in my stomach, because I knew there were important and carefully concealed undercurrents in this situation. I could sense them. Feel them in the air.

  When Rayne finished her explanation, Tarquin’s eyes darkened with anger and concern. “What is this mage’s name?”

  “It would only come out in gibberish, but I could describe him,” I said before Rayne could answer.

  As I began my description, I hadn’t finished when Tarquin said, his lips tightening. Bleak,” he growled with disgust.

  “I still couldn’t understand his name,” Rayne said.

  “I understood.”

  “He was expelled from the order for the dangerous use of runic magic. As much as I wish to, unfortunately, I am unable to help you.” He addressed Rayne while I fumed. I was the one who had tracked down his name at great personal expense.

>   “If you require assistance in dispelling and warding the games, please call on me.” It was a dismissal.

  Do not trust this man. Flynn’s voice whispered inside my head.

  My internal alarms were already going off and had been blaring from the moment he’d entered the room.

  This man is dangerous and isn’t giving us the whole truth.

  I nodded, not liking Tarquin’s answer any more than Flynn did.

  The mage’s gaze shifted to mine and I jolted. My hands burned as if I was playing with fire and my heart pounded. I dropped my gaze, scolding myself to get a freaking grip, right freaking now. Talon, for all his fae magic, didn’t scare me nearly as much as this man did. His power was formidable, and I had no doubt he knew how to wield it both overtly and subtlety. He wouldn’t be the Archmage if he didn’t. Clawing his way up The Mage Tower had required guts, skill, and nerves of steel.

  “What is your stake in this, Ms. Starbuck?” His voice dropped in pitch. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re not OS.”

  Looking back up into his hypnotic gaze, I resisted the urge to spill my guts. I wondered if he could deftly hide a compulsion spell in someone’s aura. “I have questions for the rogue mage in connection with the murder of a close friend and business partner.”

  He glanced at Rayne, his brows hiked. “Is the OS permitting the citizens of the Twin Cities to indulge in vigilantism?”

  Rayne stiffened. “No. She is a consultant, as we were already seeking this man. He’s murdered eight of our wardens, two just today. We don’t give a damn what you think about it.”

  “You forget yourself, Warden. I am the leader of The Mage Tower and part of the hierarchy of the OS. I do care about wardens being murdered and rogue mages terrorizing the population.” He faced me again. “I’m sorry for your loss, but your anger is misdirected. I wish I could, but I cannot help you.”

  He rose then, effectively ending the discussion. The door opened as if on cue and the woman who had escorted us stood there waiting with a self-satisfied look on her face.

  I reached out and offered my arm to Flynn who hopped on and sidestepped up my arm back to my shoulder. His dark eyes watched the Archmage intently.

  He nodded to Flynn. “Greetings, Dragon of Tser,” he said with respect, giving me the same kind of look for befriending one of the most elusive creatures alive.

  Flynn nodded to him. “Greetings to you Archmage Tarquin Wilding.”

  “His name is Flynn,” I said before heading to the door. Then I paused and turned back. “If you are lying to us and we find out, I will personally make sure that you will answer for it. That’s a promise.”

  He didn’t say anything, but I felt much better for letting him know where we stood. As we left, I could feel the mage’s eyes on me. It felt both intriguing and uncomfortable.

  Once outside, I sent Flynn back home. Rayne’s cell phone chimed. She pulled it out of a pocket in the tight black leather and looked at the display. Tucking it back without answering, she looked at me. “What the hell was all that about?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, just as baffled as she was.

  “You thought you knew him?”

  “He seemed so familiar, as if I do know him, but without my memory, I can’t say if he’s lying or not. And, if he does know me, why is he lying?”

  “Good question. You are getting to be a very interesting witch, Lily.” She said. “I like puzzles.”

  Back at the OS, Deangelo was still in a foul mood and that wasn’t good when it came to a vamp. At our report, he went eerily still. Then those unblinking eyes fastened on me. “We only have one recourse then. Lily, can you scry for him? You’re the only one who can comprehend his name.”

  “Scry? I haven’t really done a whole lot of scrying. But I know the principles.”

  “Good. Get it done, then.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  People have always tried to predict and control the future. From primitive man’s cave paintings, created to ensure a productive hunt, to the Delphic Oracle’s hallucinogen-induced prophetic visions, to modern man’s attempts to divine lottery numbers, it is human instinct to try and control one’s destiny. One of the methods often used to divine the future was scrying.

  Scrying was part and parcel of being a witch. There was an art to it, and I hadn’t done it enough to be really proficient. Cooking and preparing food didn’t often involve scrying, unless I wanted to be sure how a recipe would to turn out. Not to sound conceited, but my food was always perfect.

  I had decided the roof would be the best place to make the circle and search for the mage. There was a lot of room, and any screaming and yelling would be less likely to disturb our neighbors.

  Normally divination didn’t require protective shields, but after the mage’s attempt to silence me, and after seeing the terrible massacre of my newfound team’s comrades, I wasn’t going to take any chances, even with a full, badass contingent of OS wardens backing me up.

  Val, Fox, and Rayne had spread out to make a loose triangle around me. Nock was absent. Although he might well have been standing right next to me, making gnome faces.

  I drew the circle in white chalk, and as I finished a breeze ruffled my hair. Winter in the Twin Cities was chilly. This time I would take no chances, so I lit a taper and dripped wax on the four corners, then set my colored candles firmly down into the quickly drying wax. Then I poured salt to fix the circle.

  My stomach twisted with fresh nerves. While I centered and gathered myself, I glanced at the brightly lit city spread out before me, the twinkling lights of Minneapolis across the dark spill of the Mississippi river, and a discernible gloom where Haven’s End began and ended.

  I shivered. “Rayne, are you sure you don’t want me to make a bigger circle to enclose you three with me?”

  She was standing in the wind like it was a balmy day, her feet shoulder width apart, her arms and hands hanging loosely. She was the picture of perfect calm.

  “No, if we can’t handle a shade, we should all turn in our badges and be done with it.”

  “A shade,” Val said with a scoff. “Hah! I used to eat demons for breakfast. Bring the bastard on. It’s time to find him and end this.” The wind whipped through his long blond hair, making a ribbon of sunlight against the moon’s ghostly glow.

  Fox nodded. “Yes, bring him on,” he said softly. His dark eyes shimmered a pure gold and the blue spectral jaguar I had seen attacking the troll jumped from his cupped hands. “Maya,” he said, and the cat crouched and gave a low growl. “Guard.”

  At least I was scrying before midnight. Spelling after the witching hour was much more dangerous.

  I folded down on the tile of the roof, which was cold against my jeans, and recited the incantation to close my circle. As I spoke, the red salamander, green gnome, white air sylph and blue mermaid all appeared in their respective candle flames. Tucking my legs under me, I reached over and picked up the black bowl of water, the sheen of it silvery in the moonlight. I wished I had a crystal ball, but I had never felt the need for one before, and right now I might not be able to afford it, but I could in the future, thanks to my salary from the OS.

  I settled myself. Reached for calm and centered my core. Scrying was about allowing rather than working hard. I needed to tap into my will-less will. I had to look into it rather than past it. The hardest part for me was getting to the point where I was detached from what I sought. A difficult task, since I was keen to get the answers I needed so I could move past everything which had happened in the last two weeks.

  But unless I could get to that neutral spot, the will-less will could not be invoked. I envisioned myself as a cat, cleaning my paw as if it was all I needed to do, ignoring the mouse in the corner.

  I closed my eyes and took calming breaths. Then opened my eyes and gazed down into the black water. With my will-less will, I formed the name of the mage in my mind. Gave his name substance and meaning. Outlined it in black so it was like a 3D impression in my he
ad.

  At first nothing happened. The water remained black and formless. Then it started to haze over with yellow clouds and my stomach knotted. That color indicated I needed to be strong and patient, there were going to be obstacles ahead for me to overcome before I could retrieve this particular object.

  As I continued to seek, an eye formed, then another one. Finally, one more, all floating around in a sea of blue. Then I saw stone, heavy and grey.

  My heart gave a thump and I froze, feeling the hair on my neck stand on end. It wasn’t my imagination. I pulled my gaze from the water, looking at the space right in front of me. The jaguar crouched and growled low in her throat, her hackles rising.

  The eerie feeling wasn’t coming from anything solid.

  I looked back down at the water, but it was once again black. Damn, I would have to start all over. Then I distinctly felt a presence and my heart thumped against the wall of my chest and my head jerked up. There was a flickering in the air just in front of me.

  I set the water aside and stood. The air started to take on a more solid form and the sound of steel being pulled from Rayne’s scabbard was loud in the quiet night.

  Val took to the air and Fox started to chant.

  The mist turned yellow, then became firm. My breath hissed in through my teeth. The mage stood before me. The real mage. Not a thought-form, not a trick, but him.

  “You looking for me,” he asked, his voice cold, yet somehow dripping with honey sweetness. He grinned, his eyes an unstable brown, the light of crazy in them cranked up to full power.

  I glanced at Rayne. She moved forward, the sword low and at her side. “We are the OS, and you are wanted for crimes against us and the Twin Cities. You will come with us.”

  The mage casually flicked his fingers and a dark form appeared. Runic magic. I could feel it in my bones, and then was shocked to recognize the gesture and the unique brimstone smell of it working. The inky smoke coalesced into a warrior complete with shadow blade. It was the same sickly black shadow that had coated the assassin mage’s blade that had almost killed me with a shallow cut to my arm. With a start, I realized it was a carbon copy of Rayne.