Born in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy Book 1)

by K. F. Breene

  I threw the body over my shoulder and stepped into the safety of the magical division. “And that’s how you get a dead body across town without calling the removal service,” I said with pride.

  The removal service was pricy and took forever. This was definitely the faster, cheaper option if it could be pulled off.

  As I started toward the dead mark drop-off area, my good mood drained away. The time for procrastination was coming to an end. I needed to decide if I’d go to the Dungeon. Sure, there was a big payoff at the end, but it might be a trap. Once I went through the vampires’ doors, I’d be at their mercy.

  Chapter Four

  A couple hours later, I sat on the porch in front of the run-down house I rented. I was just high enough to see over the wall of the St. Roch cemetery across the street, but the real viewing pleasure was through the gate directly in front of me. Being a little off the beaten track and in a tough neighborhood, my neighbors and I didn’t see as many tourists stopping through. We did, however, see a lot of thrill-seekers and wannabe witches.

  I loved when, like now, the sun drifted toward the horizon and the shadows elongated, eating up the light. In this confusing time between day and night, I got to watch the magical people, or humans trying to be magical, creep between the gravestones with their supplies. They’d draw circles or pentagrams on the ground, among other things, and mutter spells on the breeze. Occasionally, I witnessed a great possession by a voodoo priestess or priest, and ate popcorn as they slithered along the ground, or spoke in unfamiliar tongues. I loved New Orleans. All manner of magic was expressed here—the traditional and the not so much. The hobbyist and the believer. I saw it all come through, and usually enjoyed it.

  The exception, of course, was when idiots tried to summon demons. It happened every so often, and usually the culprit had no idea what they were messing with.

  Once I had watched a coven of witches correctly call a level-one demon. The thing had been loosely trapped, and it was working on breaking free when they finally sent it back. With such little power, it wouldn’t have done much damage, but it surely would’ve ripped through one or two of the casters before it weakened and disintegrated.

  I’d had a long day before witnessing their idiocy, but that sort of deed shouldn’t go unpunished—so I’d ducked across the street and hidden among the gravestones. When the witches were ready to leave, I jumped out at them with a snarl and a knife.

  “How could you summon my kind and send it back!” I’d yelled, thumping and thrashing at them in turn. “I am the master of this domain. You are insignificant humans. Rawr!”

  I only said the word “rawr.” I couldn’t summon the energy to actually growl.

  They didn’t notice the lack of effort. Half of them even dropped their witch kits, as I call them, with their sage and their chalk and candles, and ran like hell.

  Demons don’t laugh like humans do—they give a dry cackle more than anything—but I couldn’t contain belly chuckles as they sped out of the graveyard. It had almost made the effort worth it.

  I softly chuckled to myself, remembering, and leaned further into my chair. Tonight all was quiet. Peaceful.

  My thoughts drifted to the elder vampire, and the note he’d left in Captain Lox’s office. Tall, muscular, powerful—he moved like the world was a stage and he was the diva, arrogant as all hell and coated with a thick layer of ego. I bet it was bugging the hell out of him that he didn’t know what I was.

  Or maybe he did.

  Elder vampires had been around a long time. They’d survived some pretty troubled eras and seen all manner of things. It was quite possible this vampire would be resourceful enough to piece together the clues of my heritage. I was a secluded sort of person, with a strong overhang of mystery, but being that I needed money, I wasn’t a recluse.

  I blew out a breath, thinking that possibility over.

  It would be pretty hard to get all my details, though. Captain Lox would know some, the agents at the office would know a little, my neighbors would know a few things, and the shifters a bit more, but out of all of those people, only the agents might actually talk to a vampire. I didn’t have any birth records, and something that annoyed the captain to no end, no paperwork, so…

  No, he didn’t know about me. He couldn’t.

  What about if I was in his lair? Could he sort it out then?

  I scratched my chin, thinking through the options.

  He could bite me and taste my blood, but would that tell him anything?

  I bit my lip, not sure. They were wily, elders, so there was definitely a chance he could figure it out and run straight to the bank, i.e. my father, but a good chance? I wasn’t so sure. The shifters hadn’t been able to, and they’d been sniffing around for a while.

  Literally.

  “Your eyebrows’ve gone missing again.” Mince, a thick guy who had taken too many punches to the face in his boxing career, and had the nose to show for it, stalled by the steps to my porch.

  I fingered the smooth skin where my eyebrows were supposed to be, and then the singed remnants of my bangs. “Yeah. Got too close to an open flame.”

  “Looks like you stuck your face in an open flame. How come you never get a burn on your skin?”

  “Sunblock. You wouldn’t know, since you have a natural deterrent.”

  He frowned at me. “That has got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Because I’m black, I can’t get burnt? Are you dumb?”

  “No, Mr. Sensitive, I’m kidding.”

  He huffed and looked away, probably waiting for his flash of annoyance to wear away. I could irritate the most patient of people. Misdirection was my superpower.

  “You taking tonight off?” he asked, turning back.

  “Don’t know. Just pondering that now.”

  “Your boss doesn’t mind your random hours, huh? I got let go for all that.”

  “You know that I work for myself. I make my own hours.”

  “Ah yeah, that’s right. I get you confused with that white girl down the way.”

  I didn’t know how. She was ancient and wrinkly, using a walker for her every outing, while I was twenty-four and scrappy. We were pretty different.

  He nodded at the bag by my feet containing my new book. I’d brought it out here to have a look through it, but the issue with the vampires had sidelined my focus. I’d have to come back to it later.

  “What’s in that?” he asked

  I rose. “Something I stole today. I have to get it checked out.”

  “Need any of my contacts?”

  “Nope.” I took the paper bag by the flimsy handles. A nicer bag might’ve drawn attention. “The only electrical device I got was a computer, and it didn’t have a password. Unless you know someone who’s knowledgeable about three-hundred-year-old books…” I turned toward the screen door.

  “Stealing smart person stuff, huh?” Mince leaned against the weathered railing. “Yeah, I got someone. He ain’t cheap. Charges a consulting fee. He can help you find a buyer, though.”

  I froze with the screen door half open and turned back. “You know someone who specializes in really old books?”

  He shrugged. “When you ransack a rich man’s house, sometimes you get rare books. Or so I’ve heard.”

  I shook my head. “You need to get a real job. You’re going to get pinched someday.”

  “Says the girl with a bag full of stolen goods.”

  “That’s different. I killed the guy first.”

  “Whoa.” He raised his hands and backed away. “I didn’t hear that. I did not hear that. Just let me know if you need my guy, okay? Keep the rest of your business to yourself.” He walked away shaking his head.

  Sometimes I forgot how crazy I sounded.

  I dropped the bag in my room so I’d remember to put it in my version of a safe, and then headed to the fridge. Mostly bare. I needed to go shopping.

  Sighing, I closed it up again and looked around my tiny residence. Rent was cheap, s
o that eight hundred dollars would cover it, but the money wouldn’t stretch over all my bills. I’d have the same problem next month. If I’d taken Baldy in, the money would’ve kept me out of sight for a while, not to mention kept me cool in the hot summer months.

  I scrubbed my fingers through my hair and got myself a glass of water. Sinking into the couch, I pondered the bounty notice. Fifty grand. What I wouldn’t give for that kind of money…

  That vamp probably knew it, too. As far as the magical community went, I was the only full-time, independent bounty hunter in the area. I got all the high-risk and high-paying jobs because no one else would take them. Without that payout, I was broke. If the vamp knew anything at all, he would know I was poor. That stealing that mark had put me in the hole.

  Suddenly, anger boiled through my body.

  That vamp had stolen my livelihood, and now he was suckering me into working for him. Probably just for his personal entertainment, too. I wouldn’t put it past him. Everything was a game to the elders, and people were just strategy. I should say no, thereby giving him the bird. I should. And maybe I would…right after I punched him in the face.

  I informed the captain that I’d meet with the vampires, and no more than an hour later, after I’d scarfed down a quick meal of frozen food and secured the book in my safe, I received an email on my new computer regarding how to get to the Dungeon. Not having a printer, I wrote all the info down before strapping on my weapons.

  I stepped out into the night with my game face on.

  “Going to work after all, huh?” Mince wasn’t far from my porch.

  “Are you stalking me?”

  “Nah. A couple kids wandered into the cemetery. That old loon Smokey went in after them. I figured I’d watch from a distance to see if anything happened. Smokey probably thinks they’re witches or some shit. He’s nuts.” I had no idea who Smokey was by name, but if he haunted the area, chances were I’d know him on sight. “I figured I’d get some game time in while I waited.” He held up his phone.

  “You’re too old for computer games.”

  “A person is never too old for computer games. I’m good, too. Those little ten-year-old bastards don’t know who they’re dealing with.”

  “Watch my house,” I said, bouncing down the steps.

  “Maybe,” he mumbled.

  I rolled my eyes and started to jog. All my weapons bounced on my person, which was annoying, but I was too impatient to walk. That would give me time to think, and I didn’t want to talk myself out of that fifty grand and punching a smug vampire in the mouth.

  This was a terrible idea.

  “La. La. La. La. La,” I sang to myself, and ran faster.

  I made it to the gate in no time and slowed as I approached the white, wavy line cutting vertically through the air. As a rule, I didn’t spend much time in the Realm. My mom had always warned me away from the watchful eyes of nosy magical people.

  Summoning my courage, I pushed through. Electricity surged through me as the tear in the fabric of the universe checked my body for the pass: magic.

  The black sky in New Orleans shifted to the burned-orange of dusk as I emerged in the Realm. A tiny breeze ruffled my hair, perfectly pleasant. A bench sat off to the side, meant for those with only a little magic. Crossing was extremely taxing for them, but not for me, so I hurried along my way.

  Light gold filaments drifted through the nighttime air, swirling as I walked. My boots scraped the cobblestone pathway. Eternally blooming flowers lined the edges, the sweet smell and lovely colors adding to the pleasantness of the temperature.

  I reached a fork, checked my directions, and took the road less traveled. That made sense—no self-respecting person paid house calls to the vampires.

  I was an idiot.

  As far as I knew, the Realm was as expansive and diverse as the Brink. The elves lived in a huge castle of some sort (I’d never seen it) surrounded by a metropolis, but there were also giant stretches of woods and wilds, and equally as many towns and villages. In parts, various groups of magical people lived together in relative harmony, compromising and adapting to everyone’s differences. In other parts, the magical groups more or less isolated themselves.

  The other interesting thing about the Realm was the travel ways, which was the only reason I’d visited in the past. Minute for minute, time in the Realm was the same as the Brink, but the distances you could travel within that minute changed. In relation to the Brink, I could enter from a gate in New Orleans and exit in France within an afternoon if I chose the right paths. Or it could take a whole day to go five miles at a fast run, something I’d learned the hard way.

  In addition, some of the travel ways were magically enhanced to speed up travel within the Realm. You walked along as normal, but the towns and cities whipped by like you were in a train or fast car. It didn’t take me long to realize I was on one of the special paths. As I walked, turning occasionally, patches of wilds whipped by, shaggy and forlorn. The effect was mind-boggling. I didn’t see any gates leading back into the Brink, which was probably why it was a fast track, but it was still crazy. And though it felt like it took all night, light did not illuminate the horizon. Nor did either of the two moons shift in the sky.

  No, I did not go to the Realm often. It freaked me out a little.

  Nearing the end of the directions the captain had sent me, which had apparently been posted with the bounty notice by a vampire named Darius, I wound around a bend and found two things. The first was that the cobblestone path ended abruptly—as did the lovely flowers on the sides. Clearly the magical path was finished. I was on my own.

  The second item of interest was the massive cluster of rocks directly in front of me. Large and jagged, the smallest could crush a skull, and the larger ones loomed over me.

  “’Scuze mer!”

  The deep, booming voice made me jump. I whirled around and was confronted by a stone crotch. There was no definition or dangling bits—just an apex between huge stone legs. Looking upward, I gaped at the face of a giant man made of stone.

  “How do you reproduce?” I blurted.

  Of all the questions I could’ve asked.

  A big hand swung down, swatting at me.

  I dodged, whipping out my sword. “Good gracious, what’s your problem?”

  “Move!” He swatted at me again.

  “How about a please?” I stepped to the side, ready to dodge a kick.

  “What you here from?”

  “Your grasp of the English language is excellent. Tell me, who’s your teacher?”

  “Who brought you from?” He bent at the waist to survey me, creating a crack in his stomach instead of a crease.

  “Your questions are bending my brain, man. My turn for a question: is that crack going to heal?”

  “Who brought you here from?” He picked up a rock in a huge hand and threw it. It smashed into others without a sound. Shards flew into the sky.

  I kicked a rock next to me. It made the expected thud. I hadn’t heard the rock-man coming, though. With his size and weight, that should’ve been impossible.

  “I do not understand this place,” I muttered, eager to get back to the Brink, where things made sense. “I’m going to see a vampire called Darius. He requested my presence. I came from the Brink.” I hesitated for a moment. “Did any of those statements answer your question?”

  The rock-man swung a big foot and kicked a rock next to him. It silently bounced off a boulder and came rolling toward me. I dove out of the way. Still no sound other than what I was making.

  I jumped to my feet, ready for action and dreading it at the same time.

  The rock man stalked forward. As he did so, he constantly kicked out, reconfiguring the rocks violently. They smashed into each other, all plenty big enough to squish me if I were in the way. Silence reigned.

  “I do not like this place at all.” I worried my teeth against my bottom lip.

  Now or never.

  I hurriedly picked my wa
y through, paying attention to my direction and keeping an eye out for movement. My goal was not to end up between two huge rocks.

  When I made it out, thankfully unscathed, I turned back to see if any other giants were on my heels. There weren’t any, but I realized my jaunt through the silent rock garden had been planned. It cropped up in the middle of mostly desolate land with the main path right through. Other, smaller paths went around.

  A test.

  Well, I would definitely take those on the way back.

  Continuing on at a normal pace, which I no longer fancied that much, I finally saw the end point. An enormous wrought-iron gate with decorative scrolls. Beyond it, a mound. In the mound, a door.

  Nothing else.

  A gate, a mound, and a door.

  As expected, the vampires’ lair was entirely below surface, and while it probably only had a couple other exits, they’d be equally as minimal. I was about to be trapped inside a hole with hundreds, if not thousands, of vampires.

  Chapter Five

  I approached the door slowly and tucked my directions into my leather pouch. I moved my palm over the heavy metal door. No spells to keep out intruders, not like that was a surprise. I tried the handle. It shook, but didn’t open. Locked.

  A lock was plenty. Who in their right mind would be stupid enough to force their way in?

  This was one of those times that I was a fool.

  I jump-kicked, putting all my power behind it. My foot banged into the door. Metal squealed and the side of the door bent inward. I kicked it again, busting it and sending it swinging.

  “Knock, knock,” I said, strolling in.

  My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness.

  My directions had ended at knock, so I waited a moment to see if anyone would come for me. Given how quickly some of those buggers ran, I didn’t wait long. The absence of a greeting party meant I was on my own.

  No problem. I was used to wandering around dead people’s houses.

  I walked forward, eyeing the huge, finely worked stone walls with intricate detailing. If this were Middle Earth, I’d be in a dwarf stronghold.