Institute of Magic

by Linsey Hall

  Like a caress against my skin. Or a warm hug. Touching.

  Lots and lots of touching.

  Heat filled me.

  “Quit it,” I mouthed at him.

  He just stared at me, a curious look in his dark eyes.

  Jude stepped forward, her starry blue eyes sparkling in the light. The Undercover Protectorate was made up of different divisions—the Demon Trackers Unit, Interspecies Mediation, Research and Development, and the Paranormal Investigative Team—but if she was taking the lead, this must be some kind of issue that needed the investigative team.

  “Lachlan Munroe has a job for us,” she said. “The biggest one in recent history, which leads to this all-hands-on-deck situation. But I’ll let him explain it.”

  “Shit,” Rowan whispered. “He’s the Arch Magus.”

  “The most powerful mage in the world?”

  She nodded. “The very one.”

  I’d heard of the Arch Magus before—he had command of more magical gifts than any other Magica. This was him?

  I couldn’t say I was surprised. If not the Arch Magus, I’d have assumed he was some sort of god.

  Lachlan stepped forward, his presence filling the room. All eyes were riveted on him, and if I had super hearing, I’d guess that plenty of hearts were racing.

  Not mine, of course.

  Though it was embarrassingly hard to forget the caress of his magic.

  “There’s been a theft.” Lachlan’s voice rolled over the room. It was rich and deep, and tinged with a Scottish accent that sent a shiver across my skin. An embarrassing shiver.

  Something touched my thigh, and I looked down to see that the sphynx, Muffin, had pressed his foot to my leg. I met his green gaze.

  Get it together.

  I scowled at the cat and hissed, “I have it together.”

  Sure you do.

  I shot him a glare, then turned back to Lachlan.

  Whose eyes were on me. He moved his gaze along and continued speaking. “Two days ago, I finished production of a spell that is highly dangerous. During transport to the buyer, it was stolen. My friend Decker was abducted along with it. Both need to be recovered quickly—which is why I’m here.”

  Man, he was short on words, parsing them out like they were made of gold. I searched his gaze for some emotion linked to his friend’s abduction, but saw nothing.

  And how did someone get the drop on the Arch Magus and manage to steal from him? Shouldn’t this guy be strong enough to protect the stuff he made?

  He certainly looked like it. And his magic felt like it.

  I raised a hand, but didn’t wait to be called on. Something about this guy made me throw caution to the wind. “What was the spell?”

  He was being real cagey about that.

  “An ancientus spell.”

  Holy fates. Ancientus spells could bring back magic from the past, dangerous magic that had been locked away for good reason. They were insanely rare spells. Even I’d heard of the time an ancientus spell had been used to bring back the Black Death. It could kill thousands if used the wrong way. Or it could save lives.

  But if it had been stolen and a person kidnapped…that didn’t sound like people who wanted to use it for good.

  Who the hell had he been making it for?

  I leaned toward Rowan and muttered, “Sounds to me like the spell never should have been made.”

  Lachlan’s gaze lingered on me before he continued. “We have one clue about where the magic was taken. The City of Lights, The City of Invaders. But that name could be interpreted in many different ways, and so I need more help. I know that the Protectorate has the best trackers for the job, so I’ve made an offer to Jude and the rest of the directors.”

  Jude stepped forward. “We will divide up into teams. The spell could be anywhere in the world. It’s stored in a crystal sphere the size of a man’s fist. Each team can interpret the clue as they wish, but the one to recover the spell will be paid a prize by Lachlan. Half a million pounds.”

  Whew. My jaw just about hit the floor.

  This spell was that dangerous? He had to know that the Protectorate would search for the spell for free—it was our duty. But to add that kind of incentive?

  I looked at Rowan and Bree, who were equally intrigued. We’d never had that kind of money. Hell, we’d always been poor, given that we’d funneled every penny into protection charms to conceal us from the ones who hunted us.

  Five hundred thousand pounds was a lot.

  I looked down at the Cats of Catastrophe. They looked equally interested—even the goofy orange one had his crossed eyes glued to Jude and Lachlan.

  “You guys could buy a lot of fish with that kind of dough,” I said.

  Muffin gave a low meow of agreement, his tail quivering in delight.

  I couldn’t believe I was having a conversation with a cat. Especially a cat wearing an emerald earring. I turned my attention back to the front of the room, unable to look away from Lachlan.

  He was riveting. And suspicious.

  I listened with half an ear as Jude explained that they would divide us into teams tonight and give us our partners. The City of Lights, the City of Invaders. Something tugged at my mind, but I couldn’t place it. It was a strange feeling though—sparkling like bubbles in my head. Weird.

  When everyone got up to leave, I found myself drawn to the front of the room.

  “What are you doing?” Bree hissed.

  “I have a question.”

  “Of course. Only way to come up with plans B and C is to ask questions.”

  “Exactly. Gotta be prepared.”

  She leaned against the wall and watched. I weaved through the crowd, headed for Jude and Lachlan. As if he could sense me, he turned.

  When he pinned me with his dark gaze, I almost regretted my boldness. Almost.

  3

  I stopped in front of him, far enough away that I didn’t have to crane my neck to meet his gaze. I tried to breathe shallowly and not inhale the delicious scent of his magic—or of him.

  “You’re the one with the questions,” he said.

  “That’s me.” I grinned, but couldn’t help the flip-flopping in my stomach. I could feel the tension between us. The attraction was so obvious—on my part, at least—that I could cut it with a knife. “And I have a few more.”

  He didn’t smile, but I thought he wanted to. It would have been a devastatingly handsome twist of his lips, I was sure. “What might those be?”

  “Who was your buyer for such dangerous magic? Isn’t it illegal to make spells like that? Some magic has been left in the past for a reason.”

  “True enough, but I was making it for the Order of the Magica.”

  I swallowed hard at the mention of the magical government. They oversaw Magica—magic users like me. The Shifter Council was in charge of all other supernaturals. Those who were magic as opposed to those who used it.

  Unfortunately, the Order of the Magica didn’t like my kind very much. Dragon Gods were so powerful, we were considered dangerous. We upset the natural balance of things. I needed the backing of a powerful organization like the Undercover Protectorate if I wanted a life that didn’t involve being on the run all the time.

  “And you’re the Arch Magus.”

  “I am.”

  “So how did they get the drop on you?”

  His right brow arched. “You think that I’m running some kind of con? That they didn’t really steal the spell?”

  “A lot of people want to get within these walls.” I gestured to the walls of the room, but I really meant the entire Protectorate castle. We carefully guarded our turf. “And you’re supposed to be insanely powerful, right? More magical gifts than any other supernatural?”

  He nodded curtly. “Twelve gifts.”

  “And you couldn’t use those to protect your spell?”

  “There were twenty-five in the ambush. I took out twelve. Then they took my friend Decker hostage. I couldn’t risk his life.”<
br />
  “Hmmm. One for each gift.”

  “You think you could do better?”

  “Maybe.” Okay, that was a big fat lie. Without the Cats of Catastrophe, six demons would have gotten me tonight.

  “Where do you think the clue leads?” he asked.

  My mind raced, buzzing with energy. It was a strange feeling, totally unfamiliar, and I stifled a gasp. Pain flared, making my eyes water, and unfamiliar magic flowed through me. But then the name of a city blazed in my mind.

  Paris.

  Follow it.

  The instructions sounded in my mind, spoken by a voice not my own.

  I’d asked a question, and it had answered.

  Paris. I’d never been more certain of anything.

  “Paris.” I choked out the word.

  His gaze sharpened. “Why?”

  Around us, the room emptied, people flowing out to get back to bed for a few hours. But I had eyes only for him. My mind buzzed, but he was all I could see. I couldn’t tell him that magic had told me, however. I was supposed to be a shield mage. Not a prophet or seer. New powers didn’t just develop for most supernaturals.

  They did for Dragon Gods, but I certainly couldn’t tell him that.

  My mind scrambled for a justification for Paris. “Lots of lights. And the Romans founded it. The most famous invaders in history.”

  Hey, that was pretty good. It was even true.

  “You like history?” he asked.

  “Sure.” Not quite true. I liked art, and art often portrayed history. But that wasn’t why I’d chosen Paris.

  “There are over three dozen cites known as the City of Lights.” He gave me an appraising look. “But you chose Paris.”

  “Yep.” I shook away my nerves over the strange new magic and focused on him. “And I’m right about it, too.”

  “Confident.”

  “Always.” It was cocky, but a positive attitude had carried me through life. It left no time for wimping out. Sure, I had my doubts about myself and my magic, but that wouldn’t stop me from powering through. Or at least trying to.

  And I was confident about this.

  I felt it in my bones.

  He cocked his head, staring hard at me. As if he were trying to see through me. I fidgeted, then forced myself still.

  “Seen enough?” I asked.

  “You’re special,” he said. “Something about your magic.”

  I shrugged. “Garden variety shield mage here.”

  “No one at the Protectorate is garden variety.”

  “Oh, you haven’t seen me fight yet.”

  The corner of his full lips quirked up in a sexy smile. “I’d like to.”

  I swallowed hard. Yep, this was above my pay grade. Flirting with sexy super mages was not my usual activity. My usual was dumb movies and Cheezy Puffs. Or if I was feeling fancy, cheap champagne and my painting.

  “What about you is so special?” he asked.

  “Um.” Well, hell. “I can run a six-minute mile, and I’m good with cars. Like, real good.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “I know. I just don’t have anything else.” Except for the fact that I’m a Dragon God. And yeah, not sharing that right now. My powers hadn’t developed, and I didn’t even know what pantheon I was. Until I knew that, saying I was a late-blooming half-developed supernatural didn’t interest me. What if I never mastered my power at all? Maybe it was my weak spot—always worrying about being behind Bree—but I wanted to keep that to myself.

  “And you’re dangerous,” he said.

  “Well, considering that I can kick ass in six languages, that goes without saying.”

  “Not just the fighting.” He nodded his head, clearly having decided something. “We’ll work together on this.”

  “Wha—” My jaw dropped open, and I looked around. “I don’t get it.”

  “Everyone pairs up on this. I want to work with you. There’s something about you.”

  “Not a guess. I know.”

  “Exactly. It’s settled.”

  I frowned. “Do I still qualify for the prize?”

  “Aye. And you don’t even have to split it.”

  I liked the sound of that. Last thing I wanted was to get paired up with Lavender and have to split with her.

  From behind him, Jude caught my eye. I shot her a holy crap, what do I do? look, trying to keep it subtle.

  She approached, stopping at Lachlan’s side. “I think it’s a brilliant plan.”

  “You do?”

  “Indeed. It’ll give you a chance to practice your skills.”

  I nodded. “Right. Of course.”

  Lachlan smiled. “It’s settled, then. I’ll see you in the morning. Eight a.m, the front entry.”

  I nodded dumbly, watching him turn and walk away, then I looked at Jude. “You really think this is a good idea?”

  “You need to get out in the real world. Training here isn’t doing you any favors.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “You’re good in the real world, Ana. Your fighting skills are off the charts. I don’t know why you’re floundering at the Academy, but clearly you need a change of scenery. If you can find this spell, it’ll go a long way toward helping you make it through the Academy.”

  “So I don’t get kicked out.”

  “Exactly.” She frowned. “We really don’t want that. We want you here with us. But you have to pass.”

  I gulped. Fates, I wanted that, too.

  “Rules are rules,” Jude said. “And Arach is serious about them. I can’t go against her.”

  Arach, the dragon spirit who had built this place, rarely showed up. But when she did, it was like getting hit in the face with raw power. I needed her approval to stay here. And boy, did I want to stay here with my sisters. Stay in this amazing castle where I could have a life doing good. Where I wasn’t hunted for what I was. And since the alternative was getting kicked out on my butt, alone, I had some really good motivation.

  “If it’s so important to find this spell, could we ask the FireSouls for help?” I asked.

  The FireSouls were our friends from years ago. Like us, they were hunted for their magic. Each FireSoul had inherited the soul of a dragon, and it allowed them to find anything of value. Treasure, basically. Dragons loved treasure. They could find this thing. They kept their true species a secret from most, but Jude knew what they were.

  “He already asked,” she said. “They’re busy with an emergency.”

  “Bigger than this?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Whew.” That had to be something. “But he knows them? And what they are?”

  “No,” Jude said. “I asked for him. As soon as he came to me, I went to them to see if we could freelance their services. But it was a no-go. At least not at the moment.”

  “We’ll find it,” I said. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll team up with Lachlan. And I’ll find that damned spell. Then will I graduate?”

  “No.” She smiled. “But it’ll help.”

  “Good.”

  She squeezed my arm, a friendly gesture that warmed me. She was way too young to seem like a mom, but ever since we’d lost our mother, my sisters and I seemed to seek out motherly-type affection just about anywhere we could find it.

  Not that I’d tell her that. Too weird.

  “Thanks, Jude.”

  “Good luck, Ana.”

  I had a feeling I was going to need it.

  Bree, Rowan, and I walked back to our apartments without talking. The Cats of Catastrophe followed along in silence. We passed through hallways and corridors, some done up in grand style and others as ancient-looking as if they had been in the thirteenth century.

  We each had a tower apartment at the back of the massive castle, and Bree and Rowan followed me through the door into mine, up the winding staircase, and into the main entry room.

  “You’re going to have to spill, you know,” Bree said.

  “I know,
I know.” I watched the Cats of Catastrophe saunter to my couch.

  Muffin and Bojangles jumped right up to make themselves comfortable, but Princess Snowflake III knocked over a large pillow then leapt onto it, settling her fluffy white butt right onto the soft surface.

  “I put my face on that sometimes, you know,” I said.

  She just glared at me, green eyes glinting.

  “All right, all right.” I raised my hands and turned toward the kitchen. The large round space was the living room, kitchen, and dining room in one, with a bedroom up above, accessed by an iron spiral staircase.

  The whole apartment was decorated in beautiful, classy neutrals. It’d been an empty space when I’d first walked into it three months ago, but magic had allowed it to see into my psyche and had somehow decorated it in a manner to suit me.

  Honestly, the classy look surprised me. I’d spent most of my life as a low-level outlaw, just trying to survive, or as a desert rat driving a monster truck across Death Valley, transporting criminals to Hider’s Haven, a place where they could hide out from the law.

  The fact that the magical apartment thought I was all classy and crap was a surprise to me. I liked to paint, though, putting crazy splashes of color on canvas. For the first time in my life, these last three months at the Undercover Protectorate had given me the time and safety to work, and several of my paintings livened up the space. They weren’t great, but I liked them. And seeing my easel and paints set up on the other side of the room always gave me a warm little glow.

  This was a real life here. One with a real home instead of a shack, and hobbies instead of constantly hiding. Friends instead of loneliness.

  I wanted to keep this.

  “Getting drinks?” Bree asked.

  “Yeah.” I opened the fridge. “Champagne all right with you?”

  “Pink kind?” Bree asked.

  “Sure.” I grabbed a glass bottle full of pale pink liquid. It was cheap champagne—all of it was—but anything with bubbles suited me, and I wasn’t picky.

  I popped the cork, poured some, and handed out the glasses.

  Rowan glanced at the full couch, then at the table. “Better sit there.”

  I glanced at the cats. All three of them looked up from licking their butts, and it was clear that they weren’t about to move. “Yeah, definitely.”