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Raised in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy Book 2)

Page 17

by K. F. Breene


  The bartender’s face crumpled into an expression of wariness. He leaned away from me, and as he did so, his eyes flicked to the right. Without another word, he turned and went after the whiskey.

  “Does your magic work on those demons because you’re a vampire, or because you are an elder?” I asked Darius quietly.

  “An elder of my age and experience can handle most demons, all the way up to the higher echelons of power. Vlad has tested this theory with a few level-five demons, but from what I gather, he hasn’t been able to get at Lucifer’s right-hand demons. I would wager that the most powerful demons and angels are beyond our capabilities.”

  “He is trying to work out a deal with demons, but he’s testing his abilities to kill them?”

  “The demons have power games, like humans. Like vampires. In order to get things done, Vlad is willing to do whatever it takes. He had to kill a few naysayers to prove his worthiness, and kill a few more who stood to oppose the plan. He is one of the most ruthless vampires living.”

  “Well, not really living, as it were…”

  “You have used that joke before.”

  “It’s funny every time.”

  “Hardly.”

  “And that is why you didn’t want me to kill that demon at the mage battle?” I asked. “You didn’t want to step on Vlad’s toes.”

  “Correct. I am not at Vlad’s level. Not yet. My power is nearly equal, as are my strength and prowess, but I don’t have as many fail safes in place. I can’t let him know that I possibly upset his plans by allowing a demon to be killed. He would take that as a personal slight, and pay me one in kind.”

  The bartender placed two glasses of whiskey in front of us, his gaze downcast. “I don’t know what kind of magic you’re wielding, but try to fit in. I don’t need no trouble in my bar.” He must’ve caught my unique scent. Thankfully, he wasn’t as curious as Roger’s people.

  “Don’t worry.” I hooked a thumb Darius’s way. “He’ll pay for the damages.”

  Darius’s lips thinned.

  “Whatever. Look, I know a couple of the mages who like to call demons,” the bartender said, sticking out his hand for money and leaning against the bar. He looked away from us, as though the very sight of us offended him.

  I nudged Darius. “Thanks for the drink.” He reached into his back pocket.

  “They drink in here,” the bartender continued. “Usually after they do the summoning. They are always pleased with themselves. They brag about it.”

  “They flout the magical law by summoning a demon, and yet the shifters do nothing?” Darius said. “Do you choose which laws you uphold based on your prejudices?”

  “That is also a valid point, but now’s not the time.” I nudged Darius again, this time to quiet him.

  The bartender’s face came back around, anger plain in his features. “You don’t know shit about this town. If we make a move on a mage here, it’s as good as declaring war with the Mages’ Guild. They police themselves. I’ve let them know a few times that their mages are calling demons, and I’ve let Roger know, too. Nothing happened. You do the math.”

  “I have done the math,” Darius said in a dangerous tone. My small hairs stood on end. “The woman standing next to me has as much courage in her pinky as Roger’s entire force of shifters. She will take on the mages, the demon, and the Mages’ Guild, if need be, in order to save your town. Helping her are two other mages, a human detective, and a vampire. Not helping her…” Darius swept his hand toward the bartender, his bar, and then made a wider, more inclusive gesture. It was clear he meant the entire town. “For a species who boasts fearlessness, you sure quiet down fast enough.”

  Darius took his drink off the bar, staring the bartender down, and sipped slowly. “This whiskey is subpar.”

  The bartender motioned at me. “She picked it.”

  “Okay, then. Good talk.” I pulled Darius’s arm. “Time’s a-wastin’.”

  “Hey.” The bartender raised his hand for me. He went to the till, showing the bar his big back. A moment later, he turned back with a few folded bills in his hand. “I may not want you here, but I ain’t no crook. And don’t bother tipping. I won’t spend your filthy money.”

  It was Darius’s turn to nudge me this time, even though it wasn’t my change. I didn’t argue.

  I took the few steps closer to the bar. Darius continued on toward Callie and Dizzy’s table, taking both drinks with him.

  “No tip,” the bartender said again, louder. Then he lowered his voice. His eyes were soft and sincere, almost imploring, as he shoved the bills into my hand. I could tell this was more than a mere monetary exchange. “That’s about all I can do. Good luck. I mean that. I got kids here, a business. I can’t afford to be a vigilante. But if you organize something against the guild, Roger will want to know about it. We don’t have the guns against that organization, but he won’t balk about lending a hand to those who do.”

  I crumpled the money in my fist and shook my head, playing it up for whatever spectators he was worried about. “Leaving you no tip makes absolutely no sense, you realize.” I slipped the money into my pouch. His nod was slight as he leaned away. “You’ll take the wage after his filthy money is laundered through your business, but you won’t take it directly? That’s just stupid.”

  His brow furrowed. “Do you know what laundering means?”

  I rolled my eyes. I had thought so…

  “Whatever. Suit yourself.” I patted my pouch. “Also, if I don’t die, I’d really appreciate you putting in the good word to Roger. Shifters follow me around about as much as that vampire does, and I’d rather neither of them did. It doesn’t do much for my appearance of neutrality, you know? So, anyway, I’d love it if he heard something good about me for once. You know, like I helped out your town.” I smiled at him hopefully and waggled my eyebrows. “But if you do talk to him, don’t mention the vampire.”

  A grin slid up his face. “You’re cracked.”

  “I know. But think about it, would you?”

  “Get outta here.” The bartender flung up his hand and turned away to serve someone waiting down the bar.

  A moment later, I was in the ladies’ room pulling out the money. The white of a bar napkin was nestled between the green bills. On it a lazy hand had scrawled two names. Nothing else, just the names.

  “That’ll do, pig,” I muttered. Google would help me put faces to the names, no problem. But this time, I needed the dual mages on board. I knew what I was up against, and I knew I needed more power.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I exited the bathroom, planning to finish both whiskeys. Darius needed blood later, fine, but I didn’t need to be sober to give it. Actually, I didn’t want to be sober when giving it. I really didn’t want any part of the whole thing.

  Stupid promises and watchful shifters.

  The men at the pool table were no longer hunched over when I walked out of the hall leading to the restrooms. Both were standing up straight, looking in the vague direction of Callie and Dizzy’s table. I didn’t think much of it until I had to push my way past a group of people, all of them staring in that same direction. In a moment, I knew why.

  Three people stood at Callie and Dizzy’s table, looking down on them. Darius was somewhat removed, standing against the wall, leaving them on their own. Judging by the stances of the people leaning over the table, the closed-down expression of Callie, and the worried expression of Dizzy, this wasn’t a friendly encounter.

  Fire surged up my middle, my power finally making an appearance.

  “Where were you when that mage was trying to drag me away?” I scolded my magic.

  Sure, muttering to myself made me look crazy, but when dealing with bullies, that could only help.

  “You have until sundown to get—”

  “What’s up?” I asked, coming around the table. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the bartender shaking his head.

  A man in his sixties straightened up and s
wung his gaze my way. Dark brown eyes squinted at me from above a thick beard. “Are you with them?”

  I picked up the nearest glass of whiskey and sucked it down. The clink of the empty glass as it hit the table drew the eyes of the woman in the middle of the group of three, mid-fifties with curly hair reminiscent of eighties perms. Residual magic saturated the air around her. She squinted at me.

  Squinting must’ve been their go-to for conveying: I hold the power here.

  “Yes.” I lifted the second glass of whiskey.

  “Are you a mage, too?” asked the far man, a pudgy guy with a serious gray mustache. It was like a mouse had crawled onto his face, lain down, and gotten stuck there.

  “Well, aren’t you nosy?” I leaned a hand against the top of the chair.

  “These are members of the local chapter loosely affiliated with the Mages’ Guild,” Callie said with a tight jaw.

  “They are more of a fan club than they are an actual apart of the guild,” Dizzy added.

  “It seems that we must get permission to do business in their town.” Callie put the emphasis on their with a sharp, sarcastic bite.

  “Oh.” I smiled. “Well that’s okay, then. You’re not doing business in their town. You’re visiting friends and seeing the sights. Crisis averted.”

  “They are working with the MLE office,” Mustache said.

  “You got a little something”—I waggled my finger over my upper lip—“just there…”

  He frowned at me.

  “Anyway, you are incorrect. I am working with the MLE office. Ish.” I touched my hand to my chest. “Me only. The vampire back there gave me a ride to Seattle, and my friends here came along because they’d always wanted to ride in a private jet. So you see, there’s no problem.”

  “Oh, I think there is a big problem,” Beard said, hiking up his belt. I didn’t miss those digits dipping into his pocket to grab the top of something sticking out of it. His hand returned to his side, holding a stick of some kind. His sleight of hand was good, but unlike me, he wasn’t up to pickpocket speed.

  Amateur.

  “Here’s the big problem.” I pointed at his face. “If you are going to dye your beard, you have to dye your eyebrows, too. I mean, a deep brown beard and light gray eyebrows? Who are you trying to fool?”

  “Eyebrows are a subtler job,” Callie said. “He clearly doesn’t have the magical finesse.”

  “Then use the boxed stuff at the store, know what I mean?” I asked. Someone in the gathered crowd barked out a laugh before shuffling away, eyes averted.

  “We know what you’re doing here, and we don’t need you messing around in our affairs,” the woman said, raising her chin. “All the magical people here know that we police our own affairs.”

  “Clearly not, since people are still dying.” I said

  “The guild is working on it,” Mustache said in a wavering tone. In other words, he had no idea if the guild was working on it. He turned just so until his hand was hidden by the woman beside him.

  Not so subtle, bub.

  Dizzy’s hands drifted down to his lap.

  “Keep your hands on the table,” Beard barked, the muscles on his arm going taut.

  “Or what?” I asked.

  “Since we are mages, and they have a, however distant, relationship with the guild, they think they have authority over us,” Callie said, icy but calm. “They fail to realize that since we aren’t in the guild, or even a wannabe fan club, we aren’t subject to their law.”

  “You are in our town, so you are under our law.” Beard was so agitated he was spitting. It clearly made him nervous that we weren’t groveling before him.

  “Or. What?” I asked again, my voice now filled with warning. With anticipated action.

  Darius took another couple steps back. He knew something would kick off soon, knew I’d get in the middle of it, and probably wondered if his primal crazy would take over and he’d kill everyone before he could stop himself. Why he thought a few steps would make a difference, I had no idea.

  “They threatened to kill us,” Dizzy said in an even voice. It was then I realized his hands were splayed on the table. Callie’s were above the table, too, resting against her glass. The wannabe guild members clearly thought they had the upper hand.

  But they didn’t know the caliber and ferocity of the mages they’d decided to ambush. Even still, adrenaline roared through my body. I could deal with a lot of crap, but my friends being threatened was not on that list.

  “So let me get this straight,” I said, drawing my sword in a smooth, practiced movement. The fire roaring through my blood, preparing me for battle, made my movements as fast as a vampire’s, something surprising in a girl that looked like a human. All three mages flinched. The woman’s eyes widened. “You don’t give two licks about the crazy-ass mages running around town, skinning humans and calling demons, but two tourists present a grave offense?” I shook my head slowly. “Power, unchecked, corrupts. Now get out of here. We don’t bow to whack-jobs.”

  “This is your final warning,” Mustache said loudly, for the whole bar to hear. He tensed, ready to throw whatever spell he’d palmed straight into Dizzy’s face.

  I sprang to action, banging Beard on the head with the hilt of my sword and dropping him like a stone. I grabbed the woman as light flashed between her hands.

  Always beware the quiet ones.

  The blade of my sword dropped, as though I didn’t have control. I did, of course, and the tip sliced through the emerging hex, unraveling it completely. My other hand closed around the front of the woman’s blouse, and I ripped her to the ground.

  A bang erupted from Mustache. Red light cut through the air, heading straight for Dizzy. Before I could react, Callie’s hands came away from her glass and a rectangle of blue flared to life in front of them. Dizzy’s hands were digging into his satchel as the red hex washed over the blue. Both spells fizzled out, Callie having somehow anticipated what spell Mustache would use, retrieved the correct counter-spell, and hidden it against her glass in the cupped palm of her hand.

  She is good.

  I pivoted and kicked, catching Mustache in the teeth with my boot. Blood spurted from a split lip as he fell back, his hands going lax. He bounced off the ground as the woman climbed to her feet, her hands going for a small saddlebag-looking pouch at her side.

  “Do people make fun of you for having saddlebags? Get it?” I grinned even as I surged forward and snatched her hand away. Her fingers went white on the orb she was holding before I could peel them away. “Get down!”

  I swatted her hand with such force that her body whipped around after it. The spell came loose and fell at her feet. Callie jumped up, probably with some sort of shield for me, but I already had my hand in my pouch and around an empty casing. I crashed it against my blade, playing it up like I was using a counter-spell. As the woman’s spell erupted, I braced myself to cut it harmlessly away, but a large, solid body intercepted and hit me like a Mack truck.

  The breath gushed out of my lungs as impossibly strong arms of coiled muscle carried me to the very back of the room and into the hallway leading to the restrooms. People crowded in after us as the blast tore through the room, pushing out a concussion of air.

  I finally got my breath back as the noise receded, not easy when a stone of a vampire was pinning me to the wall.

  “Really, Darius?” I asked in a dry voice. “I could have prevented that.”

  His hard body peeled away from mine enough so he could look down on my face. I’d probably have a few bruises from that “rescue.” He needed to start wearing padded clothes if he planned to keep this up.

  People around us were slowly unfurling from their crouches, taking their hands away from their heads. They had clearly been expecting a huge blast. Thankfully, that mage hadn’t had the power to pull it off.

  “I tried to prevent this reaction,” he said, stepping away. Not far enough, though. His hands lingered on my hips. He shook his head, sm
all movements, and confusion drew a crease between his brows. “I’m not sure feeding can unseat this, Reagan. It has gone deeper than that. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

  He sounded lost. Dare I say vulnerable? I was pretty sure those emotions were mostly foreign to him in his stage of immortality. Yet here he was, admitting them to me in a soft though urgent voice.

  I patted his arm. “We’ll get you that blood and see if it goes away. Hopefully it does, for both of our sakes. Because you are cutting into my cool points by saving me.”

  “Saving a human also cuts into my cool points, I assure you.”

  “I’m back to being a human in your eyes, am I? Wow. You must really hate emotion.”

  “Fear for your survival is distracting.”

  “There he is—the vampire who stole my mark.” I pushed past him and exited the hall. People were checking on each other, speaking in hushed voices. The scream of sirens sounded outside the bar. The woman who’d detonated the spell lay on the ground, not moving. She’d gotten her just dessert. Beard had rolled to the side and was clasping his head. Mustache was gone.

  “Where the hell did you go?” Callie demanded, rushing over to me. She checked over my face and then shifted her gaze down my body. “I didn’t think you’d need to get cover. Are you okay?”

  “Darius to the rescue.” I shooed her away. “I’m fine. Is Dizzy okay?”

  “Darius to the rescue?” Callie eyed Darius suspiciously.

  “I’m okay,” Dizzy said, hurrying from the bar. The bartender was on the phone. “We were prepared. They were lackluster bullies, at best. Just mad they didn’t have enough know-how to get into the real guild. We’ve seen a few of those in our time. Anyway, we need to get out of here. He’s going to say it was a terrorist, but their mage friends might form a posse.”

  “Screw their friends,” Callie and I said at the same time. She grinned at me as I laughed.

  “But yes, let’s go. I don’t want to be seen at this crime scene any more than I did at the first one.” I looked back toward the bathrooms. “Let’s use the back door.”

 

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