Hopeless Magic

by A. K. Koonce

  “Have you ever heard the term, Rich and Hopeless?”

  The Hopeless; a fae fairytale that I’ve heard since I was a child.

  Fae magic used to fuel our world. It burned through it, brought it to life the way technology once did.

  Until it slowly dwindled off. Leaving us behind with a burnt-up aftertaste of what we once had. No one’s held power like that in decades—since before I was born.

  Some believe the fae still exist. That they’re hiding from the mortals who used and abused them. But I know for a fact it isn’t true. It’s a hopeless belief and filled with hopeless dreams.

  The Hopeless fae.

  It’s said that the last remaining fae are richer than our wildest dreams. Supply and demand. They have a supply of something that’s very high in demand.

  “What about it?”

  “Call me Hopeless, beautiful.” A smile slashes across his face.

  My eyes narrow on him and his insinuation. The blonde isn’t delicate and full of beauty. The man holding me definitely isn’t. Fae are said to be the most beautiful beings who ever graced this terrible world.

  The other man, the one with the ever-present smile, almost fits the description.

  But not the one who seems to be their leader. He isn’t anything like the fae my father used to read me stories of.

  “You’re lying.”

  It’s then that I realize Darrio isn’t clinging to me like his life depends on it. His arms are held loosely around my frame, his body leaning into mine. And for some strange reason I allow it. A feeling swirls through me as I lean back on him too.

  It’s an intimate stance, his body wrapped around mine. No one’s ever held me like this …

  Darrio’s breathing halts for a moment. His corded arms tighten their hold on me once more.

  Ah, there’s the brooding brute again.

  “You think I’m a liar?” the blonde man with the boyish good looks asks.

  I raise an eyebrow at him, my lips set in a thin line.

  Slowly, he pushes up the sleeve of his shirt. The white fabric bunches at the elbow and trailing down his forearm are black markings.

  Angled lines of raised ink mar his flesh all the way to the wrist. The markings are upraised abnormally, as if something beneath the skin is pushing to get out.

  The mark of the Hopeless.

  I swallow hard and slowly my eyes meet his.

  Daxdyn steps forward, the moonlight filtering across his beautiful face.

  He, too, pushes up the sleeve of his left arm.

  An identical mark skims across his flesh.

  Darrio releases me and, hesitantly, I turn to him.

  While his brother holds a face of perfection, Darrio’s body is lined with flaws. A lifetime of battle slices through his flesh. Not an inch of skin is untouched. Long, tangled locks are pulled back from his face. A dark beard shadows his face, making him appear even more untamed.

  And yet, he sets a tingle of nervous energy spiraling through my body at the serious look he holds in his beautiful eyes.

  My gaze falls to his arms as he begins to turn his wrist to reveal what I already know is there.

  The mark of the Hopeless scars them all.

  Chapter Three

  Liars

  “Take us to the city,” the blonde says, my attention still drifting to the marking against his left arm.

  “I can’t. The City of the Hopeless is a myth. It does not exist.” My clipped words are harsh as I try to convince even myself. I’m not friendly and I’m not going to pretend to be for anyone. Even the supposed Hopeless.

  “Take us to the Juvar Kingdom then.”

  Confusion swirls through me and I fold my arms across my chest.

  “It’s near Juvar?”

  A smile tilts his arrogant lips. Gods above, does his smile make me want to give him anything he asks for. I avert my eyes. I don’t fold that easily.

  Usually.

  “You sound very interested for someone who doesn’t believe me.”

  I grind my teeth, refusing to give into his banter.

  “Let’s say I take you to Juvar. What will you give me?” A dirty thought crosses my mind as I appraise the way his shirt clings to his hard chest.

  He licks his lips slowly, the smile growing larger.

  “Whatever you like. Name your price,” he says it in a slow, sexy tone as if my price is fueled by lust.

  Not a chance.

  Money fuels me. Adrenaline spikes through me like I have the money in my hands already.

  “What’s your name?” I ask him.

  “Prince Ryder.” He extends his hand to me and the twins exchange a knowing look. Their appearances are similar but their thoughts seem to be identical.

  My attention shifts between the three of them suspiciously.

  “Prince?”

  Prince Ryder bites his cheek, biting back the sexy smile that kisses his lips.

  “Before I was a Hopeless fae, I was the son of the King of Juvar. I’m the exiled Prince of Juvar.”

  The word ‘exiled’ stands out among all others. I bite my lower lip, my fingers thrumming against the smooth hilt of my sword at my hip.

  How much money could a former prince really have? How much magic would a supposed Hopeless have?

  Darrio places his hand on my wrist, holding it. His palm is rough against my skin. My gaze drifts from his grip on me to his steely eyes.

  “You’re not really in a place to be considering his offer.” His hand tightens on mine.

  “If you do not stop manhandling me, you’ll regret it.”

  It’s probably not the smartest thing in the world to be threatening someone who may or may not have enough power to murder me without lifting a finger.

  He shakes his head. My eyes flutter closed and a long sigh falls from my lips.

  Why does everyone doubt me?

  I warned him he would regret it. I gave him two chances. And yet, he continues to test me.

  The dagger strapped to my outer leg is in my palm in an instant. Within another two seconds, I’ve jammed it hard into the top of his thigh.

  A growling groan pushes through his clenched teeth, but it’s a reserved, smothered sound of pain. Every muscle in his body tenses.

  “Fuck, she tried to warn you,” Daxdyn says with laughter singing through his tone.

  Suddenly, I like Daxdyn a little more.

  Each finger slowly lifts from my hand and Darrio holds my blazing gaze as he fists the hilt. With a jarring move, he rips it from his thigh. His eyes close; the only sign of discomfort he gives.

  My brow rises high. I’m slightly impressed and even more than slightly attracted to the new stranger I just met.

  I must be a fucking masochist.

  Without hesitation, I lift my hand, extending my palm out to him.

  His jaw tics and he shifts his weight to his good leg before placing the dagger in my palm.

  “Thanks.” I give him a warm smile before turning my back on him; confident he won’t touch me ever again. Ryder’s charming smile is still on display. He glances toward Darrio before giving me his full attention. The line between my shoulders keeps an appearance of assuredness held in my posture. “I want an exchange.”

  Ryder’s smile grows wolfish. He shoves his hands into his pockets and nods to me. “Everyone has a Hopeless price.”

  I nearly roll my eyes once more at the way he’s throwing this hopeless word into every hopeless thing he says. It’s not the f-word. It doesn’t transition that hopeless way … fuck, maybe it does.

  “If,” I pause on the word, letting it ring out with clarity, “I take you to the kingdom,” with precision, I wipe Darrio’s blood from my blade onto my dusty black jeans. I take my time, drawing out the anticipation of what I’m about to say, “I want a Hopeless exchange. I want something only magic can give me.”

  “What do you want?” He looks me up and down. His gaze drifts down my long legs before coming back up to my narrowed, green eyes.
>
  My head tilts just minimally.

  I don’t know these men. I definitely don’t trust them. I refuse to give them information after only knowing them for less than a day.

  “I’ll name my price once we come to the ocean that leads to the island of Juvar.” Daxdyn shoots Ryder a look. They’d be stupid to agree to an open trade where I could ask for anything I like. But he nods anyway. What an idiot.

  “What’s your name?” Ryder nods to me.

  The countless fake names I’ve used over the last five years threaten to slip across my tongue. I choke the names back though. For some strange reason, I don’t lie to him.

  “Zakara Storm.” The three of them eye one another, the gazes shifting over my head to each other.

  They’re probably wondering if I made it up.

  If I made it up, it’d be something prettier and more appealing to say. Maybe Angela or Jenée, or even Nicole. Not something that sounds like a fucking angry sneeze.

  “How old are you, Zakara?” Even the way he says my name comes out in a mocking tone, a disbelieving sound.

  “Twenty-one,” I say in a flat voice.

  Ryder’s probably just a few years older than myself. Depending on how fae age, I suppose. And the twins are a total mystery. Darrio looks to be the oldest of the three. Even the way he holds himself makes him seem older with worn confidence, and yet Daxdyn appears younger than even myself. Smooth, boyish skin and a glimmering light in his eyes make him appear barely eighteen.

  A long sigh parts my lips. I won’t bother asking their age. It makes no difference if they’re eighteen or one hundred and eighteen.

  I slip the blade back into the tattered leather sheath on my outer thigh. A wide tree supports Ryder’s weight as he leans into it, his hands still pushed into his pockets. He holds a careless posture. Not anything like I would imagine from a man of royalty.

  “You’re a prince. How do you not know the way home?” I ask, changing the subject.

  The cold bites into my skin and I hug my arms around myself. None of them seem to be aware of the chilly temperature.

  “When my scars appeared along my arm, my father knew then that I was more than just a mortal. He didn’t know I was mixed. I was only five. It scared the hell out of him.” The tone of his voice dips and he studies the dark leaves at his feet. “He knew people would kill to get to me. They would use me like a weapon. I was never a child at all really.” My heart sinks for him. Until I notice the traitorous feeling. I straighten my shoulders, pushing down the weak emotions. “So, he exhausted all of his resources for months until he found a way to get me to the mythical realm everyone whispers about.” His eyes meet mine, intensity burning through them. “The Hopeless city.”

  A pounding feeling bangs through my chest, my heart racing from his words.

  He could be lying. Everyone lies. These three could be no different.

  But something in me believes every word he says.

  Ryder just might be an exiled prince of Juvar. He might really have magic burning through his veins. He might really have saved my life tonight. The Hopeless city might be real after all.

  But what he doesn’t know is that I’ll never step foot on the coast of that kingdom.

  Chapter Four

  The Eminence

  The hike through the wooded area back to town is quiet. Not uncomfortably so. I enjoy the silence. I used to talk for hours to anyone who would listen. I used to talk about the most mundane things as if they held so much importance.

  I was stupid then, taking for granted all the simple things in life that I’ll never have again.

  “My name’s Daxdyn Riles.” His name rolls off his tongue in a sensual way that makes me want to repeat it on an uneven and shuddering breath. I shake my head at my dirty thoughts just as he speaks again. “It’s a nice sword.” Daxdyn bumps his lean shoulder into mine.

  I eye him for a moment, taking in his lithe muscle tone. The way a smile always sits waiting on his lips makes the suspicion in me fade away. He isn’t dangerous. I don’t think he could be even if he tried.

  My attention darts to his brother; the hulking opposite of the man at my side.

  “It was my father’s.”

  Why did I tell him that?

  Stiffly, I straighten my posture as I chastise myself for speaking so freely with someone I know nothing about. I could know him though. Daxdyn could be useful if given the opportunity.

  “Why didn’t you just use your magic to escape the prison?” The tangle of trees ahead of us holds my attention. I try to pretend I’m not searching for information, as if I just want to make small talk.

  The white moonlight falls across his smooth features. The iron-like color of his eyes shines with intensity. An odd thought crosses my mind, making me smile to myself: Daxdyn would make a beautiful prostitute. I push the smirk from my lips.

  After my father’s death, my aunt raised me. Lady Ivory is the most successful ‘escort’ in the country. She made sure I never was. But her words of wisdom have never left me. And I just know she’d encourage Daxdyn to use his good looks to his advantage.

  And, oh, what an advantage he would have.

  We would make beautiful fae babies, he and I.

  “Iron depreciates fae magic.”

  “What?” I stutter out. It’s hard but I pull my mind from the gutter to listen to what he’s actually saying.

  “Iron stunts it. The cell kept us locked up and it kept our magic safely locked away as well. A glimmer of it was all we could produce.”

  That is interesting. Maybe I should stop checking him out and listen a little more.

  “Of course he would tell the pretty human all our secrets,” Darrio says in a snide voice.

  That’s the second time he’s used the word ‘human’ as if it’s a slur.

  With anger rising in me, my fist clenches at my side. The tightness of my jaw makes me want to scream. Then I want to hurl my small frame at his enormous back and beat my much smaller fists into his hard body. His hard, hard body.

  Wait, what was I saying?

  Ryder glances back to Daxdyn at the mention of magic. For a moment, I wonder if he’ll tell him to shut up. A mortal shouldn’t hear all their secrets. Even I think it’s a shitty idea for him to be telling me this.

  No one says a word though.

  So, I pry even further.

  “What if I asked you to prove you have magic?”

  With confidence, I walk as if I’m not on the edge of my seat with hope that Daxdyn will show me an amazing magic trick. Something so great my mortal mind will be in awe of his ability.

  Darrio turns to me, making me stumble from his abrupt stop. A feeling tingles between us from his nearness, making me lean into him subtly. It’s like something inside him pulls at something within me. He appraises me slowly from head to toe, making me shift on my feet. A heated look is all he gives me before he quickly strikes his hand out and lightly touches his index finger to the tip of my nose.

  A static sound accompanies his touch and a shock of pain strikes through the tip of my nose. Tingles spread all through my body, making me shudder.

  My hand raises to my nose as I glare up at him.

  Did he just boop my nose?

  “That—” I pause as a smirk tilts the corner of my lips, “that was your amazing magic? That’s it? Not very impressive.”

  Darrio cocks a brow at me and leans in ever so slightly closer to me. His breath fans across my jaw, taking away my sarcastic demeanor in an instant. “I’m a very controlling fae. If I wanted to burn you alive, I would have, human.”

  My breath catches from the thought of his threat and I can’t decide if the word controlling is terrifying or arousing. When my ridiculous thoughts finally choose living over a simple orgasm, I push past him and continue walking next to Daxdyn. Daxdyn is the safer one, I can tell.

  “Who captured you? How? How did someone capture three Hopeless?” They must be idiots. Too attractive for their own good. Too blin
d-sided by the beauty in life to see the danger all around them.

  Daxdyn watches his boots as he walks. The leaves crunch beneath our steps and it seems to captivate his tense attention.

  Silence fills the night. Nature speaks loudly while the four of us keep quiet.

  I suppose revealing their one weakness is an easier thing to admit than to say whatever it is Daxdyn is keeping from me.

  “My mother.” Ryder stares straight ahead, his steps coming more rapidly now. The sword at my hip brushes my thigh as I force my legs to keep up with their new pace.

  A broken branch on the ground catches my normally cautious steps and I stumble. Daxdyn’s warm hand wraps around my forearm. He holds the worn arm cuff on my forearm, his knuckles appearing whiter against the black fabric. A tingling calm spreads through me from his touch and I pull my arm from his reach.

  “I’m sorry, what?” My feet stumble as I shift away from Daxdyn and race after Ryder and Darrio. They haven’t slowed the slightest bit.

  “My father fought so hard to keep me from the dangers of this world. I guess he didn’t count on my step mother having different plans.” Once again, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “When we entered this realm again last year, she drugged the three of us and demanded we give her what she asked for.”

  Why were they even in this realm?

  “Why didn’t you?” I ask instead.

  “The Hopeless aren’t gods; we’re fae. Descendants of fallen angels. There are things outside of our abilities. Death, love, life. Ask all you want, but even the prophesized Eminence will have its limits.”

  Dread sinks through me, slowing my pace.

  Ryder can’t bring my father back. My lips purse as I glare hard at the ground.

  “What’s the Eminence?” I ask with a vacant sound filling my voice.

  Ryder’s wide shoulders become rigid. With a long hesitation, he turns his head to look back at me. His light eyes hold mine, weighing me down with just one look.