by Linsey Hall
The sonic boom plowed into the ground about ten meters to the left of the tree branch.
I winced.
I was bad.
“Again.” Cade crossed his arms over his chest.
“Okay.” I sucked in another deep breath and tried again.
Missed.
Frustration welled in my chest, a hard knot.
“Has it always been like this?” Cade asked.
“Getting worse lately.”
“All right. Try again. This time, clear your mind.”
I did as he said, but this time, the sonic boom that plowed out of me was so large it destroyed all the branches and created a crater in the lawn.
I gasped and stumbled backward. “Crap!”
Cade frowned. “Did you mean for it to be that big?”
“No!” I shook my hands as if I could force the frustration out of me. “It just does that sometimes.”
“Wild card.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t make a habit of getting down on myself, but damned if it wasn’t hard when I was faced with the reality of what my magic was becoming.
What I was becoming.
“But you’re not terrible with a sword, or you’d be dead.”
“I’m excellent with a sword.”
His face creased with doubt. “You’ve got skinny arms. You were good in Oregon and Venice, but you weren’t fighting a real warrior.”
“Like you?”
“Exactly.” He drew a sword from the ether, a long blade that looked wickedly sharp. “Try me.”
“Oh, so we’re doing this now, are we?” Excitement thrummed in my chest. I drew my own sword, which was so much lighter and smaller than his.
He approached, sword raised.
Holy shit, this was happening. I grinned. This was something I could do. We circled each other, probably looking ridiculous. Anybody my size with a lick of sense wouldn’t go up against a god of war who was six and a half feet tall.
Fortunately, I had more skill than sense.
He lunged first, and I darted left and blocked with my blade. The sheer strength of his blow bent my arm backward, and I barely slipped away in time.
The next strike was even harder, making my arm go almost numb. I dodged, then pretended to stumble.
He didn’t fall for it, backing up instead of pouncing as I’d hoped.
“Clever,” I said.
“Always.”
I went on the offensive, charging and swiping out with my blade. Before his could block it, I sliced down, toward his legs. He danced back, sparing himself a slice by mere millimeters.
His appraising eyes met mine. “Nice.”
“Like I said…excellent. Even against a god of war.” I lunged again, this time trying a move that required more speed than strength.
Unfortunately, he was fast, too. He knocked my blade aside with his and reached out with his free arm, grabbing me around the waist and swinging me to the ground.
“Ooof!” Pain flared in my back as I scrambled upright, barely keeping a grip on my sword. I danced back from him. “Are you tempering your strength?”
“How could you tell?”
“My bones aren’t broken.”
He grinned. “Fair assessment.”
“Well, don’t pull any punches with your sword work. When I beat you, I want it to be real.”
“Beat me?” He laughed.
“What? God of war doesn’t mean god of swords.”
“We’ll see.”
“Hmmm, we will.” We went round and round like that, striking and defending, parrying and blocking. I landed a couple light blows, but he was too fast to ever take a real hit.
Same for me. Though there were a few moments that made me feel like I might lose a limb, I dodged them by a hair.
Sweat pearled at my temples and my mind was laser focused.
I did better this time, meeting him evenly, as long as he used his sword and not his strength.
Finally, he stepped back, hands raised. “A draw.”
Man, he looked good when he was fighting. I grinned, propping my sword blade on my shoulder. “You’re too scared to keep going. You think I’m going to beat you.”
“No. But I can see when I’m evenly matched. You’re good.”
“I know I’m good.” I tapped my chin. “Actually, I remember saying I was excellent.”
“I wouldn’t disagree.”
“Good.” I went to point my sword at him and crow a little more—had to take the victories where I could get them—then it dawned on me. I lowered my sword. “Heyyy.”
“Aye?”
“Did you do that to get my confidence up? Pick something I’m good at?”
“Are you accusing me of pulling my punches?”
“Not with your sword, no. You’re sweating. And you were really trying there. I tied you fair and square. All I’m saying is that you might have had an ulterior motive. My magic may be a disaster, but no one has ever doubted I’m a badass with my blade. So you weren’t testing my blade.”
“Fine, I may have been—” His eyes widened on something behind me.
I whirled, sword raised. The forest was cast in shadow from the setting sun. Something flashed out of the corner of my vision. Cade’s arm?
A massive beast hurtled out of the forest, thundering toward us on giant hooves. The monster was the size of a truck, a great skeletal boar with pieces of tattered flesh and muscle hanging from its bones. Its head was huge, with giant fangs and two long tusks. Eyes of flame blazed at us.
A zombie boar? Or a hellbeast?
Was it the thing from the portal?
My heart thundered in my chest as the monster charged us, his hoofbeats shaking the ground beneath my feet. The creature reeked of death and evil.
Joy sang through me, tinged strongly with fear. I felt like I was back on top of the buggy, fighting monsters in Death Valley.
This was what I loved. What I lived for. Where I felt most comfortable. I might have been scared out of my pants, but it was my usual.
I sucked in a deep breath, shoved the fear aside, and called upon my magic, grabbing hold of it and hurling it outward. The sonic boom exploded, shooting through the air and plowing into the beast, scattering its bones like candy flying out of a gruesome piñata.
Then the bones disappeared into thin air.
The boar—all evidence of it—was gone.
What the heck?
Understanding dawned. It hadn’t been the monster from the portal. My heart thundered, from fear and joy and stress all at once.
I turned on Cade, noting the smile on his face. A sexy smile, that bastard.
I pointed at him. “You did that.”
“What?” He held up his hands, trying to look innocent.
“You’ve never looked innocent a day in your life, so don’t even try.”
He grinned.
“You got my confidence up with the sword fight, then used magic to create the boar.”
“I can’t create boars.”
“No, but you could throw something that could create a boar. Some kind of fancy spell made by Hedy, maybe?”
His eyes flickered.
I pointed at him. “Gotcha. That’s what you did.”
“And you blasted it away on the first shot.”
“I do best under pressure. When the threat is real.” I shrugged. “Or feels real, at least.”
“Which is what I suspected. Well done, Bree. Your magic might be going haywire, but we can count on you in a dangerous situation.”
I returned my sword to the ether. “Of course you can. My whole life has been a dangerous situation.”
“Aye. It’s what made you strong.”
Well, I didn’t hate the sound of that.
My gaze darted toward the forest, the memory of the portal distracting me from the compliment. Sure, it was Jude and Hedy’s job to figure it out. Not my place. I was a trainee, after all.
Ha. As if that would stop me.
I’d nev
er been very good at following rules, after all. And this was important. I knew it was.
“Cade, there’s something I have to tell you.”
His gaze changed, turning almost wary.
Shit. He thought I was going to talk about us. There was no us. And I wasn’t dumb enough to force the issue. I had to have my pride, after all. “There’s a problem in the forest. A portal. I saw it when—”
“Bree! Cade!” The shout cut me off.
I turned, spotting Jude, Hedy, and the librarian coming out of the forest.
Potts, I thought he was called. I’d only met the stooped old man once, and he’d been a grouch.
“That’s odd. Potts doesn’t leave his library unless forced.” Cade turned to me. “Are you talking about one of the portals in the forest? Is that where they are coming from?”
“Yes. Maybe they should tell you.”
The three of them hurried toward us, Potts moving much faster than I’d have expected him to. He looked to be about a hundred and fifty if he was a day. Worry creased Hedy’s brow, and her face was slightly blackened by silver dust. Magic gone awry? Jude’s expression was stern, as usual. Ready to deal with the problem, whatever it was.
They stopped in front of us.
Jude’s gaze landed on me. “The portal is a problem, Bree. Good job spotting it.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s going on?” Cade asked.
I was bouncing on my feet, dying to know what the heck was happening in the forest.
It was bad. I knew it like I knew I liked pink cocktails.
Jude nodded and explained the problem I’d found. “Hedy just finished her tests. She revealed the dark curse on the portal—the one that you could see, Bree.”
“There is something slowly leaching out of the portal. A spell.” Hedy’s gaze turned to me. “But you said that a creature tried to climb out? And it spoke to you?”
“Yes. It told me to come to it. It probably would have tried to get to me, but the portal stretched, holding it in.”
“This has never happened before.” Cade’s brow furrowed. “We need to perform recon.”
“Can’t you just destroy the portal to keep the curse from coming through?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Hedy said. “It is far too ancient, which means the magic is too strong.”
Damn.
“Recon is our best option.” Jude nodded. “Potts confirmed that no one has used that portal in over three hundred years.”
“The records don’t lie.” Potts’s voice was whispery with age. He looked like he should smell of dust rather than evergreen.
“I have a map,” Jude said. “It’s old and incomplete, but you can use it to start your recon.”
“Good,” Cade said. “I can start right away.”
Jude pointed to me. “Bree as well.”
Potts huffed. “I still say she’s too young! Untrained.”
“That may be true,” Jude said. “But she’s the only one who has seen the monster. Felt its magic. It called to her.”
“I can track it,” I said. “Or at least identify it. The magic was unique. That’ll help.”
Potts made some grousing noises, clearly unable to contain himself. “But she’s only completed her first tests. She has so many more to finish! She’s unproven.”
While I was annoyed, he did have a point.
“We can count on her in true danger,” Cade said. “I vouch for Bree.”
My cheeks—and my heart—warmed at his words.
“As do I,” Jude said. “I know it’s unusual to send a trainee on an important job like this, but Bree is unusually talented. This can count as one of her tests.”
Heck yeah. One less timed fight in the forest was fine with me. I hated the false danger—give me the real thing any day.
“Thank you,” I said. “I won’t let you down.”
I hoped.
Was I cut out for this? I didn’t know, but I was going to try. I had to try. The monster who’d called my name made that clear.
“See that you don’t,” Jude said. “And you’ll have to be careful. Remember what I said about the Fae. With the portal locked, we are no longer invited there. This threat may be coming from them, or from someone else. But be quick on your toes.”
“Don’t piss them off and start a war, you mean.”
“Exactly.”
“And hurry. That magic is spreading.” Hedy’s gaze was dark with worry. “And it’s the darkest we’ve ever seen. This is a serious problem.”
“So, we need to go into the portal to find where the spell is coming from,” I said. “And stop it.”
And figure out why the heck it said my name.
That was freaky.
“Exactly,” Jude said. “But to get through the portal, you need to make sure the dark magic doesn’t cling to you. It would coat you like oil, and there’s no telling what it could do to you.”
“I have a contact in Edinburgh who can help.” Hedy handed me a glass vial full of the oily black substance that glazed the portal. It prickled against my palm. “She’s an Eclektica. A jack-of-all-trades who deals in spells. She can sell you something that will make you immune to the curse so that you can pass through unharmed. She’ll also give you a key to help you unlock the portal. It’s been closed so long that it will take special magic to open it.”
“We’ll go find her right now,” Cade said.
“Go to the Whisky and Warlock,” Hedy said. “Tell Sophie at the bar that you need to see Tabitha. She’ll take you where you need to go.”
“Thank you for this chance,” I said. “I’ll find out what’s going wrong.”
“We hope you will,” Jude said.
Hedy’s gaze turned concerned. “In fact, we’re counting on it.”
So was I.
Chapter Three
We had to return to the woods in order to get to Edinburgh. The poisoned portal gleamed with black oil, the stench filling the clearing as we approached the portal that led to the Scottish capital.
It glowed blue and bright, welcoming.
“At least the Fae portal hasn’t poisoned this one,” I said.
The corner of Cade’s mouth tipped up. “I couldn’t agree more. This is my way home.”
“You live in the city, right?”
“Aye.” He stepped up to the portal, then glanced at me. “Ready?”
“Always.”
He grinned, then stepped through. I followed, letting the ether suck me in. It pulled me through space, making my head spin, then spat me out onto the sidewalk of a bustling city street.
It was a wild ride every time I used this portal, but it was beyond cool that the Protectorate’s castle was just a step away from a big city.
All around, the Grassmarket bustled with life. Supernaturals of every variety hurried down the sidewalks on either side of the road, popping into pubs and restaurants and shops.
“I really like it here,” I said.
“Different than Death Valley Junction?” Cade asked.
“So different.”
While there was magic in Death Valley Junction, it didn’t feel half as awesome as this place. The Grassmarket was the Supernaturals-only section of Edinburgh, and it bustled with magical species of all varieties. Shop windows revealed shelves of potions, magical books, trinkets, and even enchanted foods.
But my favorite part of Edinburgh was the Whisky and Warlock, the pub I occasionally visited in the evenings with Ana, Caro, Ali, and Haris. A long day of tests and training deserved the pinkest cocktail in the bar. Fortunately, Sophie, the bartender, was a pro. I hadn’t had the same drink twice, and every one had been amazing.
I turned, heading down the street toward my new hangout. The sun was heading toward the horizon, sending a golden glow over the cobbled street. It warmed the faces of the historic buildings, lending them an even more magical air.
We ducked under the low doorway and into the old pub. A fat black cat named Kitty sat on a ch
air in front of the crackling fire, and she welcomed us with a meow. I turned left into the little room with the bar where Sophie worked. The pub was like a maze, rooms and halls and nooks and crannies. But this was our room, where the Protectorate hung out.
Sophie turned, a grin spreading across her face. Today, her dark hair was pulled up, and her T-shirt read Thank fates Festival is over.
“Bree! Not your usual time.” Her gaze went to Cade. “And you haven’t been here in ages.”
Probably not since I’d seen him here last. My cheeks burned. Had my impromptu kiss kept him away because he’d known he’d see me here?
With my luck, that was the case.
“Then it’s about time,” Cade said.
I leaned against the bar. “Hey, Sophie. We need to see Tabitha, if you don’t mind.”
Sophie’s eyebrows jumped up. “Tabitha? Something wrong?”
“Hopefully not,” I said.
“Well, I’ll ring her. It’ll take her a little while to get here. What will you have?”
It was only polite to buy something if we took up real estate on the bar stools. “Something low alcohol. Pink, preferably.”
“No problem. One Dirty Shirley coming right up.”
“Pint of Tennent’s,” Cade said.
Sophie nodded and turned, going toward the phone.
“Not whisky?” I asked. It was what he’d ordered last time.
“Don’t want the hard stuff before a job.”
I grinned, liking the responsible answer. I’d seen too many drunken losers in Death Valley Junction.
Sophie called Tabitha from the big black phone on the wall, then set about making our drinks. I leaned on the bar, tried to ignore the prickles of awareness at Cade’s proximity, and checked out the crowd. It was sparse at the moment, just a small crowd of Protectorate members sitting in the corner, in front of a hearth filled with glowing orange fire and a big black cauldron.
The people looked familiar, but I hadn’t met them.
They didn’t shy away from shooting me suspicious glances, however.
Ugh, being the new girl.
I looked away as Sophie approached, our drinks in hand. “One pint of Tennent’s and a Dirty Shirley!”
“Thanks.” I took mine and sipped.
Yum.
Tasted sweet and bright. Cherry, maybe.
I nodded toward the Protectorate members in the corner. “What’s their problem?”