Origin of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector Book 3)

by Linsey Hall

  “More than neat,” Aredeca said. “That’s top-level magic.”

  She picked up the slab of stone and held it near the beaker, then blew the dust onto the clay vase. Magic swirled on the air, feeling like strong ocean breeze against my cheeks. It came from the beaker.

  I held my breath as Aerdeca and Mordaca touched the clay surface, closing their eyes for concentration.

  “Yes. A terrible person last used this beaker.” Aerdeca shuddered.

  The mob boss. But what had he wanted with the thing? “What does the enchantment do?”

  Mordaca’s brow furrowed. “I think… I think it is a revealer of prophecies.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s a vessel of truth.” Aerdeca’s voice was breathless. “There are a few in the world. If you drink from it, you can understand hidden secrets. Information that has been protected or scrambled.”

  Holy crap. I glanced at Del, who was looking at me with raised brows.

  “Can it be used again?” I asked. “Or was it a one-time thing?”

  “It could be used again,” Aerdeca said.

  Excitement flared in my chest.

  “How?” Del demanded.

  Mordaca frowned. “You must mix a special potion and drink it from the beaker.”

  “So we need the recipe,” I said.

  “That’s the problem,” Aerdeca said. “Whoever made this beaker also knew the recipe for the potion. But this thing is ancient.”

  “And whoever developed the recipe for the potion has got to be long dead.” Something unfamiliar flickered in Mordaca’s eyes. Worry, almost. Or fear.

  But nah, that was crazy. Mordaca wasn’t afraid of anything.

  “So there’s no one else who could know the recipe?” I asked.

  “Only the one who crafted this beaker,” Aerdeca said.

  Dismay opened a black cavern in my chest. Shit.

  “Is there anything else you can tell us?” Del asked.

  Mordaca shook her head. “Not about the beaker, no.”

  Damn.

  “Then what do we owe you?” I asked, my mind already racing ahead to how we turn this devastating information into something good.

  Mordaca and Aerdeca spoke at once. “Nothing.”

  Shocked, my jaw dropped. These women, though friends, would charge you to use their bathroom. “What? Why?”

  Aerdeca signed, her gaze drifting to the beaker. “Whoever used that last… You must stop him, Nix.”

  I knew that. But how did she? Mordaca and Aerdeca had fought at our side before, but they didn’t know about the Triumvirate or our fated tasks.

  “We’re not stupid,” Mordaca said. “You are fighting something stronger than you. Darker than you. This vase makes that clear. The dark magic that is smeared upon it made my skin crawl.”

  “We won’t charge you.” Aerdeca’s gaze zeroed in on me. “But you must defeat whoever last held this beaker. His evil intentions are all over it. I’ve never felt darkness like that. And I’m no stranger to black magic.”

  I shuddered. “I thought you weren’t a seer.”

  “I’m not. But I can read the magic, and that thing scares the shit out of me. Whoever used that beaker last learned something when he drank from the goblet. The vessel of truth untangled a prophecy for him.”

  Yeah, a prophecy that I wanted to understand. One about dragons that had been encrypted by ancient monks called Cathars. If the mob boss now understood what the prophecy meant, I needed to as well. It was our only link to him. Our only way to find him.

  “We know you’re meant for something important. We don’t know what, but Cass and Del have fought their battles. It is time for yours.” Mordaca pointed to the goblet. “This is yours.”

  My mouth dried. “Yes, it is.”

  “Well, then, we’re not charging you.” The corner of Aerdeca’s mouth tilted up. “This time.”

  They had our backs. My back. The message was clear. And terrifying.

  Though it was good to have allies, knowing that they—these powerful women—were afraid of whatever was coming made my skin grow cold.

  I had to fight something that scared even Aerdeca and Mordaca.

  And I had no idea what it was.

  Chapter Two

  Del and I left the party in silence, climbing into the car. As soon as we were in and had shut the doors, she turned to me. “If we can use our dragon senses to find who made this beaker, I can turn back time so we can speak to him. Get the potion.”

  “The least we can do is try.” Though I had my doubts our dragon senses could work with so little to go on.

  I locked the car doors and removed the beaker from the box. The clay was rough under my fingertips, history speaking through the material and the design.

  But it wasn’t telling me what I needed to know. Who had made this damned thing? And where could I find him? Or his body, since he was probably dead.

  I called upon my dragon sense, begging it to help me find the creator. I focused on the feeling of the clay beneath my fingers, the cool irregularity of the surface. But I got nothing. No matter how hard I tried, my dragon sense lay dormant.

  Though I’d expected it to be difficult—my dragon sense needed information to work, the more the better—disappointment surged.

  I handed the beaker off to Del. “Give it a go.”

  She took the beaker and closed her eyes. Her magic swelled in the car, bringing with it the scent of fresh soap and the feel of grass beneath my feet. She tried for a full five minutes before opening her eyes. “Nothin’.”

  “Damn.” I cranked the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb.

  “Looks like this is going to be even tougher than we thought.”

  “But the mob boss managed. He’s already drunk from it or he’d have fought harder for it when we ambushed him. If he succeeded, then we can too.” He might be two steps ahead of us every time, but he was proving it was possible.

  Del repackaged the beaker in its specially designed box, locking it tight. We drove in silence back to Ancient Magic, where we’d arranged to meet everyone else after a long day of hunting down info. While Del and I had been on beaker duty, the rest were trying to discover the mob boss’s whereabouts.

  All the way home, the silence was thick as pudding. Worry was the whipped cream on top.

  I pulled up to the curb in front of Ancient Magic and cut the engine, then glanced at Del.

  Concern glinted in her eyes. “I sure hope someone else found something out.”

  “No kidding.”

  I climbed out of the car, grabbing the box and going into the shop. The door was open and Cass was behind the counter, though the shop wasn’t officially open for business. After I’d ended up in the hospital a few days ago, we’d shut down the shop to dedicate all our time to hunting the mob boss.

  But I already missed this place, with its shelves full of magic and history.

  Cass straightened from her slouched position in the chair behind the desk and pushed her red hair back behind her ear. “Any luck?”

  “A little.” I put the box on the counter. “You?”

  “Not much. The League of FireSouls knew nothing.” Cass had gone to visit the only other FireSouls we knew, an ancient organization that was a bit like a magical Justice League. “But Aidan will be back from the Shifter Council soon.”

  “Roarke as well,” Del said. “Maybe the Order knew something.”

  Each had gone to see the government that they were loosely affiliated with. Hopefully, the Alpha Council or Order of the Magica would know something useful.

  Cass tilted her chin toward the door. “Speak of the devil.”

  “Devils. Plural,” Del said.

  I felt him before I saw him, an innate knowing that was new. Ares. Was the connection from the blood he’d given me to heal me after my injuries? Just the idea made me nervous, but it was hard not to make the connection.

  Slowly, I turned. Ares walked toward the shop alongsid
e Roarke and Aidan. I hadn’t felt their presence like I’d felt his, so this was specific to the vampire.

  They stepped through the doorway, single file, each huge and handsome. But I only had eyes for Ares, who looked like a fallen angel.

  “Look what I found loitering outside the shop.” Aidan hiked a thumb toward Roarke and Ares.

  “Hardly loitering,” Roarke said. “Good timing, is how I like to think of it.”

  Ares didn’t speak, just looked straight at me, gaze penetrating. It was as if he hadn’t seen me in ages, though we’d just parted yesterday. Because of my injuries, and the fact that I’d been asleep for most of three days, we hadn’t had much time to talk. I still didn’t know where we stood besides being massively attracted to each other. Being around him felt like flame drawn to flame.

  Not that it mattered at this precise moment, considering all that we had to deal with. Everyone gathered around the counter. Ares came to stand at my side, close enough that I could smell the cold winter morning scent of his magic and feel the slightest bit of heat from his arm. I shivered.

  But he didn’t look at me. Which was good. I needed to focus.

  “Did anyone learn anything useful?” I asked.

  “Strike out with the Order of the Magica,” Roarke said. “But I have a couple more contacts I can check tomorrow.”

  “Aidan?” Cass said. “Any luck with the Alpha Council?”

  Aidan, as the Origin and most powerful Shifter, had gone to speak with the governing body of all Shifters.

  “A bit,” Aidan said. “About fifty years ago, someone similar to our target set up a massive compound about twenty miles from their headquarters at Glencarrough. It was an organized crime operation that recruited young shifters. The Council didn’t like it, so they raided the place one night, razing it to the ground.”

  I nodded, remembering the massive shifter stronghold in the Scottish Highlands. The place was nearly impenetrable. “Could that be our guy? Fifty years is a long time.”

  The mob boss hadn’t looked that old when I’d last seen him. If he was some kind of immortal, we were in big trouble. Immortality was rare, and always a product of strong magic.

  “It could be,” Aidan said. “They said his power was enormous. But they lost track of him after that night. He abandoned his men.”

  “Like he did last week.” The bastard had flown off in a helicopter, blowing up his compound with a bomb that had nearly killed me. That willingness to abandon all those who worked for him. With him. I shuddered.

  “Exactly. His men are disposable, his mission is not. But they couldn’t say what that mission was.” Aidan scrubbed a frustrated hand through his hair.

  “Did they say anything else?” I asked.

  “Only that his men called him Drakon.”

  “Dragon?” Fire burned low in my belly. “He doesn’t deserve that name.”

  “No. But it’s what he’s after.” Ares spoke for the first time, his rough voice and light accent curling around me like a caress at the most inappropriate time.

  I turned to him. Despite the exhaustion shadowing his green eyes, he was the handsomest man I’d ever seen.

  “Please tell me that the Cathars could help,” I said.

  While I’d been hunting information about the beaker, Ares had returned to the Cathar stronghold in Southern France where we’d first learned of the prophecy that Drakon sought. Ares shook his head. “They could not help, nor would they. Though they protected the prophecy for centuries, the one who encrypted the prophecy is long dead. They know no more than we do.”

  Damn. “At least we now have a name. And a few more clues. Maybe we can find someone to read the history of the beaker.”

  “Tomorrow.” Del yawned, the exhaustion of the last two days clearly wearing on her. “For now, let’s get some sleep. Start fresh tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t help but feel like we didn’t have time to sleep, but my own eyelids were drooping. “Fine. I’m going to keep the beaker in my trove. It’s safest.”

  “Agreed,” Cass said.

  I picked up the box containing the beaker and looped the strap over my back, then followed my friends out of the shop, Ares at my side. They stopped to wait for me when I turned to ignite the security charms on the doors.

  “Go on ahead.” I clutched the box to me and ran my fingertips around the edge of the doorframe.

  “See you tomorrow,” Del said. A chorus of goodbyes followed, and they headed down the sidewalk toward the door to our apartments.

  Ares stood at my side, his presence a constant reminder of the attraction and tension that shimmered under the surface. Every inch of me was so aware of him.

  “How are you holding up?” His voice was rougher than normal, no doubt from lack of sleep. He’d been hunting answers as aggressively as the rest of us.

  “Fine.” I finished igniting the enchantment and turned to him. His shoulders blocked out the light from the streetlamp across the road, bathing him in shadow. “Thanks for helping with this.”

  “The Vampire Court has a vested interest in this. I have a vested interest.”

  “Because of what Laima said?” A couple days ago, the Vampire goddess of fate had done me a real favor by telling the Vampire Court that they’d better back me up.

  “Because I like you, Nix.” His green eyes bored into mine. Truth reflected in them.

  A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Walk me to my door?”

  His lips turned up and he turned. I joined him, walking down the sidewalk toward our apartments. Ares’s hand closed around mine, warm and firm. A shiver raced through me. I glanced up, brows raised.

  “I shouldn’t hold your hand?” he asked, his voice held a hint of playfulness that I’d never heard before. It was so small that I might have imagined it.

  “No, I didn’t say that.” We’d had a rocky start, with the murder accusations and the Vampire Court trials, but this was definitely moving us in a different direction.

  I’d had more of his blood after my injuries at Drakon’s compound. More than ever, I felt like I got a sense of his feelings. And if I wasn’t mistaken, he was totally into me.

  I clutched the box to my stomach and held Ares’s hand, enjoying the warmth of his touch. We’d only shared a few kisses, but they’d blown my mind. Touching any part of Ares always had the same effect.

  I’d seen Cass and Del with their guys and wanted the same thing. Then Ares had shown up—in circumstances that weren’t exactly the greatest.

  I was still processing, to say the least.

  The moon was just a sliver in the sky as we walked, the air chill. Street lamps shed circles of golden light on the sidewalk around us, insulating us in our own little world as we walked.

  “I’m headed back to the Vampire Court tonight,” Ares said. “I need to pick something up. It’s important, or I wouldn’t leave. But I can meet you in the morning. We’ll start the search fresh.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We were only ten feet from the door leading to my apartment when magic crackled on the air. I got a brief whiff of rotten garbage before a hand landed on my shoulder, yanking me backward. I lost my grip on Ares.

  Instinctually, I clutched the box to my chest. I conjured a sword as a strong arm wrapped around my waist, heaving me upward. My stomach dropped as panic chilled my skin.

  “Nix!” Ares roared. He spun and plowed toward me, his shadow sword already in hand. He thrust the blade near my head. Blood sprayed my cheek, no doubt from the head wound he’d just delivered to my attacker, whose arm loosened around my waist.

  From behind Ares, four more figures appeared out of thin air. Demons—huge ones wearing leather vests and carrying big swords.

  “Ares! Behind you!” I dove away from the man that Ares had stabbed.

  There were seven total, demons of all shapes and sizes. All were different. Horns, no horns, spiked skin, talons for claws. Two were actually mages, if I had to guess. They looked human, at least. The atta
ckers were standing in the road, but approached the sidewalk where we stood.

  “Nix, run!” Ares shouted as he plunged his sword into the gut of the nearest demon.

  Indecision tore at me, but only briefly. Though I hated to leave a fight, I couldn’t let these jerks get the vessel of truth. Ares could handle them.

  I spun toward P&P, sprinting toward the cafe. But a mage nearest me threw out his hands. A blast of wind hurtled over me, forming a shimmering barrier in front of me. I shielded my face with my arm and tried to plow through it, but I slammed into a solid wall.

  Pain flared in my arm and I stumbled back.

  Shit.

  Running was out. I raised my sword and turned, taking stock. Ares was cutting down two demons while another two approached me.

  I charged the nearest one, a demon with a wickedly curved sword and muscles that bulged out of the leather vest he wore. He raised his blade, but I parried, blocking his steel with my own. I kicked out, nailing him in the stomach. The breath whooshed out of him and I used his shock to plunge my blade into his neck.

  Beside me, Ares swung his sword like a whirlwind, slicing through demons as if this was a game.

  But it wasn’t. More appeared, three in the street and one on the sidewalk. A mage conjured a fireball and hurled it at me. I swung my blade up, blocking the fireball, which exploded against the steel. Heat seared my face as sparks flew, singing my skin. The light from the flame blinded me.

  A heavy arm wrapped around my waist, clutching tight. I lost my breath, plunging my blade backward blindly at the level of my waist. It sunk into flesh. A roar sounded at my ears as the arms around me loosened. I yanked away from my attacker.

  My vision had finally cleared.

  And we were so screwed.

  Ares was cutting through demons left and right, but there were still a dozen of them. Bad odds. And more were appearing every moment.

  “Fire from above!” The voice sounded just as a fireball hurtled down from the sky, landing directly on the nearest demon’s head. It flattened him, sending him to the pavement.

  Across the street, the air shimmered, an opalescent sheen that was about the size of a car. For the briefest moment, my dragon sense tugged me toward it, then it was gone.