“Nah. She’s playing around with us.” Kandy joined me, deliberately looking away from the pub as Liam made his way through the tables toward the entrance. “Or they aren’t exclusive.”
“He is a little old for her,” I said, repeating myself from earlier. Though I knew I was being overprotective, I was apparently unable to stop myself.
Kandy snorted. “Says the woman scheduled to marry the five-hundred-year-old.”
“You know all those years don’t count,” I said, peeved. “Warner is only like … fifty …”
I started to laugh. Kandy joined me as Liam pushed open the door. He was wearing a light-brown ribbed sweater and light-blue jeans. The sweater was a little loose on him, its sleeves covering the backs of his hands. The collar of a white T-shirt showed at the edge of the oversized neck. The look was deliberately, almost affectedly, casual. But there was nothing casual about Liam Talbot. His dark hair was almost too short, his jaw always freshly shaven. I would have bet that he went for a jog every time he consumed any sort of ‘bad’ calories.
I grinned involuntarily, imagining him needing to run home in order to burn off the cupcake I forced on him every Thursday.
Liam’s step faltered. His gaze was glued to me.
Apparently, my smile was a little off-putting. Well, that was new. Okay … newish.
Kandy chuckled darkly. But quietly, so the sorcerer might not have heard.
“Sorry to interrupt you,” I said, deciding to play nice since I was actually intruding on his date. “The interlopers have made a couple of plays.”
Liam glanced to both sides of us, but the sidewalk was empty for a dozen or so feet in either direction. “Tonight?” He closed the space between us.
“Yep,” Kandy said. “And in Whistler yesterday.”
Liam raised a concerned eyebrow.
“Your parents know,” I said, lowering my voice as a group of chatty guests exited the pub. “But the elves seem to be back in Vancouver now.”
Liam nodded. “Okay. Good to know. Has anyone been hurt?”
I shook my head. “No … well, not by the elves.”
Liam eyed me but didn’t ask for clarification. He was smart like that.
“This evening, they attacked Jasmine —”
“The vampire?” Liam asked.
Kandy lifted her lip in a snarl. “What do you care?”
I stifled a grin.
Liam eyed Kandy warily but steadily. “I’ve never met her … so I was just asking for clarification. Attacking a vampire seems like an odd opening move.”
“Right …” I briefly considered going back and filling him in on Whistler, but Kandy glanced at the time on her phone, then shifted impatiently. “There were a couple of … interactions before that, but —”
“All easily handled by Jade,” Kandy interjected. “No need for you to puff out your chest and start flashing your gun around.”
Liam frowned, seemingly missing the gender-dynamics lesson the green-haired werewolf was belligerently trying to foist upon him. But with Angelica as his mother, I seriously doubted that Liam was overprotective because he thought women were weak. As far as I’d figured out, he was that way because he was accustomed to being the strongest magically — and therefore the least likely to be targeted — among his siblings.
“Point is,” I said, “I wanted you to know. Two elves, one skilled in illusion and one skilled in telepathy. Well, some sort of telepathy, but not just mind reading.”
Liam tilted his head to one side. “Like what?”
“Psionic manipulation. Jasmine thought so, anyhow. Transmitted through some sort of blood magic. I had a sample of the blood they used, but I lost it.”
Liam glanced back and forth between Kandy and me, his shoulders and jaw suddenly tense. Then he glanced back inside the pub.
Seeing his concern, I realized that I had somehow forgotten to be as worried about the magical prowess of others as I should have been. Which was plain stupid of me. I turned to Kandy, apologetic. “I think maybe we should cancel —”
“Absolutely not!”
“I know you’ve been planning this for months, but …” I trailed off. Honestly, continuing with a bachelorette party when we were possibly under attack was irresponsible. “We should be tracking the elves … really.”
“We’re already pretty clear that we can’t track them,” Kandy said. “And we know they’ll come to us. You’ve already quashed all their volleys … the warrior, the illusionist, and the telepath. Easily. So if they can’t get through you, they seriously can’t get past all of us gathered together.”
“Plus …” Liam said thoughtfully. “You might actually draw their attention. Grouped together.”
I was surrounded by insane people. Even the police officer — sorry, detective constable — thought it was a good idea to draw the elves out. “And any innocents who happen to get caught in the crossfire? At the restaurant, say? We just write them off?”
“Of course not,” Liam huffed indignantly. “But you can control the environment, keep it contained.”
Kandy grumbled. “I’ll cancel the dinner. We’ll get takeout instead and eat at your apartment. It doesn’t get much more contained than that. But we’re still going dancing!” She stomped off toward the car before I could respond to her plan.
Liam gazed after the green-haired werewolf, then lifted a hand in a wave when he spotted Mory in the back seat. The necromancer didn’t wave back.
I looked at him pointedly. “So? Anything to report?”
He cleared his throat, shaking his head.
“What about the rash of break-ins you were looking into? The ones you said where nothing was stolen? Have they continued?”
“No. Last one was at BC Place two days ago. Which is weird, but there wasn’t any magical trace when I went by to check it out.”
I frowned. “BC Place … weren’t there others around there as well?”
“Not enough to make a pattern.”
“And how many does that take?” I asked teasingly.
“Well, uh, at least three.”
“I’m joking.”
He nodded but didn’t smile. “All the incidents were in large spaces, though. If you are looking for some sort of connection between them. Large, empty spaces.”
“And how are you checking for magic?” I asked. “Do you have … some sort of a device?”
Liam nodded, but he didn’t elaborate. Adepts were fanatically close-mouthed about their personal magic.
“And it’s calibrated for elf magic? How? Did you take it to the park before the residual fully faded?” That was the residual from me murdering the warrior elf. But I was certain I didn’t need to add that part.
Liam looked at me, a little aghast.
Great. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one prone to making assumptions. “Yeah, if the elves can hide from my dowser senses and Kandy’s nose, then your device might not be picking them up either.”
Liam cursed under his breath. “They’re from another dimension.”
“When you have a moment, maybe take your device down to Kits Pool. The illusionist put on a little show there about an hour ago. You might be able to pick up a trace of it.”
He nodded, already turning back to the pub. “I’ll head there now. Then I’ll backtrack through the series of break-ins.”
“At least finish dinner,” I said as he opened the door to the pub and stepped back inside.
Liam waved his hand over his shoulder, acknowledging me but obviously intent on his new course of action. The door slowly closed behind him.
Well, his date was going to be seriously peeved. Most likely at me. I hustled over to the car, eager to be out of the way of any deadly looks. If she was a local, she might recognize me from the bakery — and I had a reputation for being fun to uphold.
Whether or not I was perpetually a magnet for magical chaos, my cupcakes should make everyone happy.
Kandy circled the block in Gran’s car, dropping me off
at the mouth of the alley before looping back in the opposite direction. Her plan was to stop at Mory’s so the necromancer could get changed, then pick up Jasmine at Gran’s before meeting up for a take-out dinner at my apartment. The green-haired werewolf had shoved her phone into Mory’s hands as we pulled away from the pub, seemingly ready to dictate text messages the entire length of the drive.
Apparently, I had foiled the second stage of her intricate bachelorette party plans with my uncharacteristic caution. But my inability to easily taste, and therefore track, the elves’ magic was unnerving me. At some point, their games were going to become deadly — and more and more, it felt as though I wasn’t going to be able to do anything about it until there were bodies on the ground.
Just like the incident with the warrior elf in the park. And he’d been wounded before the fight started.
That was supposed to be my job now, wasn’t it? Protecting my territory? That was what everyone kept insisting, anyway. And by ‘everyone,’ I meant Kandy and Gran.
I stepped out of the Lexus, holding the door open as I stooped and offered up a tentative request. “Sushi, maybe?”
Kandy snorted dismissively. “In December? Really?”
I stifled a laugh. The werewolf ate anything at anytime. She was just being pissy.
“Sushi Gallery has great party trays.” Mory spoke up from the back seat, her face illuminated by the ghostly blue light coming off Kandy’s phone. “Including veggie options for Rochelle.”
Kandy sneered something under her breath — most likely a comment about the lunacy of vegetarianism. “I’ll take care of it, dowser.” She lifted her foot off the brake pedal.
Thusly dismissed, I shut the car door as the vehicle rolled away.
Kandy sped off down Vine, cutting right on West Third Avenue. I waited until the car was out of sight, then I turned to scan the dark alley. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Magic rippled near the door to the bakery, and the illusionist elf stepped into view. Her pale skin was luminous, though the stars hadn’t broken through the heavy cloud cover. She didn’t have so much as a blemish from having been badly burned just a couple of hours earlier. Apparently, elves healed in our dimension more quickly than I’d thought.
The elf had traded out the ruined light-blue jacket for a light-yellow one, in the same design as far as I could tell. It didn’t do wonderful things for her coloring. Which was a nasty thought that I kept to myself.
I had tasted the illusionist’s mossy magic the second I’d stepped out of the car, but I hadn’t been sure whether I was simply picking up residual or if another trap had been laid. And with Mory in the potential line of fire, I wasn’t interested in triggering anything that might have inadvertently hurt the necromancer. Though I knew Kandy would be pissed that I hadn’t told her.
“You are getting more difficult to sneak up on, dragon slayer,” the elf said, practically purring the words.
A chill ran down my spine at her use of my title. She knew way too much about me. And I knew far too little in return. I took two steps toward her, painfully aware of the brightly lit apartments on either side of the alley. It was dinnertime. Everyone was at home, and within easy view of whatever display the elf was about to put on.
I ran my fingers over my knife, still sheathed and invisible. Doing so stirred up the damp-forest taste of the elf’s magic.
She watched me for a long moment. Then she held her hands slightly out to the sides, as if indicating that she held no weapons — and therefore meant no harm. “I let the werewolf and the death witch leave, didn’t I? When I already know that to harm either of them is the best way to harm you.”
My heartbeat ratcheted up. For the first time in a long while, I felt the beginnings of a true creeping fear. One-on-one, I knew I was a match for the elves. I’d proven that without a doubt. But they were coming at me in a different way, undercover and annoyingly observant. And executing a plan I had no capacity to fathom.
I was about to wade in. I was about to be out of my depth.
I might have been physically strong and mentally resilient. But I just wasn’t all that clever. And there was nothing I could do about that except learn from my mistakes. Like the mistake I was certain I was about to make.
“I am Mirage,” the elf said.
That threw me. I’d been expecting an attack, a renewal of threats. “Mirage?”
The elf tilted her head to the side. “It fits, doesn’t it? I used one of your dictionaries.”
I nodded, dropping my hand from my knife and casually moving closer still. “It fits. But why are you here, Mirage? In the back alley of my bakery?”
“I knew you’d eventually come home. And I …” She touched her neck thoughtfully, maybe remembering the feel of Gran’s magic searing her skin. “I am … bereaved by the loss of my brother.”
A nasty pinpoint of pain formed in my chest, just over my heart. She meant the elf I’d killed. The murder I’d so coldheartedly flung in her face. “He’d hurt —”
She waved her hand, cutting me off. “He was doing his duty. And, I assume, you were doing yours.”
I waited for her to continue. To tell me why she’d chosen to try to chat with me instead of throwing another illusion my way.
“We don’t belong here,” she finally said. She looked up almost mournfully at the dark, cloudy sky. “Even the rain is the wrong color.”
“What should it be? Purple?”
She laughed quietly. “No. Only the seas and tributaries are purple in my world.”
“So … you want to go home?”
She looked at me steadily, but she didn’t respond.
I laughed ruefully. “You think I’m stupid. Ignorant of the incursions your race has continually made into earth’s dimension?”
“No.” The elf shifted, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Then she just as quickly removed them, showing me her palms.
She was nervous.
Now that was odd.
“I’m not here … in this alley with permission.” She reached up and touched the clear gemstone embedded in her forehead. “I’m not transgressing, but … I thought if I could bring my liege an idea, a chance to go home … then …”
My liege. So the illusionist — and presumably the warrior before her — took orders from someone. Likely the telepath, who’d also been locked away with them. Damn Pulou. If he’d responded to my requests to meet, then I might not have been standing in the alley completely blind to the history of the trio of elves he’d stashed in Vancouver.
“Return home, then,” I said. “If you can travel here, certainly you can go back?”
“Not without help.” Mirage stuffed her hands in her pockets again, gazing down at her feet. Her uber-straight hair fell forward, and for a moment she looked almost human. Vulnerable.
It was totally a ploy. Just another trap. And I was going to walk right into it.
“What kind of help?” I said.
“I’m not quite certain. The working … the technology, as you would call it, is beyond my understanding. There is a device that opens a doorway.”
“And without it, you can’t go home?”
She nodded, but stiffly and just once.
“Anyone else getting shades of E.T.?” I muttered.
“Sorry?”
“Never mind. An earth movie from the early eighties.”
Mirage nodded, once more lifting her face to the night sky. “Did he die well?”
She meant her brother.
“He did.” I quashed another pinch of pain over the devastation I’d wrought, whether it was necessary or not.
“We were only half alive in that prison,” she said. “I wasn’t certain I was still alive. I could not feel … anything. Could not create anything. And I did not know if anyone else lived until my liege opened the door.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Do you?”
I nodded but didn’t elaborate.
“You have many religi
ons in this dimension,” Mirage said.
“We do.”
“What do you believe, dragon slayer? When you die, do you cease to exist?”
“No,” I whispered. “I am … magic.”
She nodded sadly. “And my brother? And me, when I die at the end of your blade? Am I the same magic?”
“Yes.” I struggled to keep my voice steady against a wave of mixed emotion.
“Will you meet with my liege if she will agree? Then take our request to the dragons?”
“I will.”
She smiled, but not victoriously.
“And …” I added, hardening my tone. “If I’m walking into a trap, I’ll slaughter you both.”
“Just like my brother.”
“Yes.”
“And if it is a trap, and you fail. Who will come after you?”
I closed the final two steps between us, feeling the magic of the bakery wards brush against my shoulder. “If you have to ask, you haven’t been paying as close attention as I thought.”
“A future I would avoid … Jade.” She reached out to me, offering to shake my hand. “If you don’t see me again, I have died in my attempt to convince my liege that we should leave.”
I gazed at her hand, though I didn’t take it. “If that happens, shall I avenge you?”
She laughed mirthlessly. “I have been watching. Closely. I know you by your actions. Killing my liege is beyond even you. But I would never wish such a fight upon either of you. Will you come to a meeting? Will you at least hear our request?”
“A ceasefire?” I asked.
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “A temporary end of aggression, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Agreed. Though I can speak only for myself.”
I reached over and grasped her hand then. Her skin was smooth, her grip strong. Her elf magic fluttered underneath my fingers like the wings of a bird trapped in a cage. “I will listen then … Mira.” I hesitantly offered up the nickname, hoping to cement our tentative bond. Hoping that the nuance — the offer of friendship — would translate, even though we came from different dimensions. The illusionist’s obvious love for her brother led me to believe that she was capable of forming such a bond.
Misfits, Gemstones, and Other Shattered Magic Page 15