Fugitive of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector Book 1)

by Linsey Hall

  “That looks newer than the passage,” Ares said.

  “Yeah.” I knocked on it, grinning when it echoed hollowly. “There’s a room beyond here.”

  “Move back.”

  I did.

  Ares stepped up to the wall and kicked hard. The wood burst inward, splintering into fragments. There was a hole big enough to climb through.

  He slipped through first—which seemed to be a habit of his—and I followed.

  The room on the other side was full of old crap. There was no better word for it. Broken furniture and mops and buckets.

  “Storage,” Ares said.

  “Our lucky day.” And I meant it.

  “Seriously. I’d hate to break into the guards’ break room.”

  I chuckled and slipped between two broken tables to reach the door. It was unlocked, and I slipped it open to peer outside.

  The wide hallway was more formal than the storage room—very much like the entryway with its dark wood walls and fancy lighting.

  I ducked back inside. “It’s the main building. Decorated the same.”

  “Can your Seeker sense find the Master of Secrets?”

  “I can try. But since I only have his title, it’s very unlikely.” I called upon my magic, digging deep and feeding it my desire to find the Master of Secrets.

  But since it had nothing more to go on, it lay dormant.

  I pushed harder, wishing to speak to him.

  Nothing, nada, zip. “No luck. I’d need more info about him to get a connection. We’ll have to find someone to take us there.”

  “No problem.”

  I opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, going left on a whim. Or instinct. Instinct sounded better, so I’d go with that.

  The hall was wide and the navy rug beneath our feet very plush, so it was easy to keep our footsteps silent. Fortunately, we saw no one. But the sound of voices in the hallway to the left made me stiffen. They were coming closer.

  A doorway on the right beckoned.

  In there, I mouthed.

  We ducked inside. It was a small library. From the looks of the titles, all the books had to do with law. I cracked the door and peered out. Ares crowded behind me, his strong body warm behind mine. I shivered, having to force myself to focus on the hall outside.

  Five people walked by, all dressed in long navy robes. Magica, if I had to guess. Their signatures didn’t feel shiftery, at least. Shifters smelled more like animals, though not usually in a bad way.

  Usually.

  “Too many,” Ares murmured in my ear.

  I shivered at the whisper of his breath. “Yeah.”

  We could take them, but it wouldn’t be silent. And we needed silent.

  Fortunately, a single pair of footsteps sounded a moment later, coming down the hall from the opposite direction.

  “I’ve got this,” Ares whispered.

  I stepped back, letting him have the position closest to the crack in the door. As the footsteps neared, he tensed. When they were right by us, Ares swung the door open and darted out into the hallway, grabbing the figure and pulling him inside.

  The man was only about five and a half feet tall and looked a bit like a weasel, with pinched features and beady black eyes. Those eyes were wild over the hand that Ares had clamped over his mouth.

  I shut the door behind them as Ares dragged the man into the center of the room. A letter opener on the desk caught my eye, and I grabbed it, then approached the pair.

  “We’re looking for the Master of Secrets,” I said. “We’d like you to tell us where he is.”

  The man frantically shook his head.

  “That’s a no, I think.” I looked at Ares.

  He nodded.

  “We could convince you.” I held up the letter opener.

  “Scream and I’ll kill you.” Ares removed his hand from the man’s mouth.

  “That’s just a letter opener,” the man spat.

  I shrugged. “It’ll still pierce your jugular if I try hard enough. I’m willing to give it my all.” I really hoped he bought what I was selling.

  The man whitened.

  Jackpot. “Now tell us where the Master of Secrets is. We just want to ask questions.”

  “Never. We’re surrounded by my brothers and sisters. You’re no threat to me.”

  I strode to him and pressed the tip of the blade against his neck. I pushed hard enough to hurt, but not enough to break the skin. “You see this collar around my throat?”

  The man nodded, his dark eyes bulging like a frightened rat’s.

  “This collar means I’m dead in thirty-six hours unless I get to speak to your Master. So trust me when I say I’ve got nothing to lose and am willing to kill you in a building where I’m surrounded by your henchmen.”

  It was a bluff. I couldn’t stab an innocent guy in the neck. But I gave it my best Voldemort impression. Something in my expression must have convinced him. Or maybe it was the fact that I pressed on the knife until a bead of blood welled. It was as far as I was willing to go, so I was glad it worked.

  “Fine—fine,” he stammered. “The Master of Secrets is at the end of this hall, then left. His office is the last door on the right.”

  “Thanks. Is he there now?”

  The man nodded frantically. “Should be. Yes. Yes.”

  I debated asking him to take us there, but if we saw anyone else, he could signal for help. I looked at Ares. “Can you put him to sleep?”

  The man’s dark eyes flared. Ares gripped his throat and did that strange sleeper thing I needed to learn. Our rat went limp, and Ares caught him.

  “Behind the desk.” I hurried to the windows and tore off the ties that held the draperies back, then went to the man and bound his hands and feet. A gag finished the job. “That should buy us some time.”

  Ares went to the door and peered out. “Come on.”

  I followed him out of the room and down the hall. We sprinted on silent feet toward the next turn, pulling up short to peer around the corner.

  Fortunately, there was no one coming, so we raced toward the last door on the right, which was shut.

  Ares opened it and we strode inside the large office. Card catalogues sat against the wall, and there was a big desk in the middle, right in front of windows overlooking the main street in front of the station.

  An old man sat at the desk. He wore the same navy robes as the other men, but his had golden braiding on the shoulder.

  His eyes widened, and he surged to his feet. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Phoenix Knight, and this is Ares Warhaven. We’re here to ask you about Marin Olerafort.”

  Understanding dawned on the man’s face, and he looked at Ares. “You are the Enforcer of the Vampire Court.” His gaze moved to me. “Though I don’t know who you are.”

  “Just the way I like it.” I pulled the medallion out of my pocket and held it up. “Marin Olerafort was murdered, and we’re looking for the killer. He had one of these, and it led us here.”

  “You think the murder has something to do with us?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what this place is exactly, or who you are. But you’re secretive. And one of your men referred to his colleagues here as his brothers and sisters. That means you’re close to each other.” Or a weird cult. “We’re hoping that you cared for Marin as much as Ares did and that you’ll help us solve the mystery of his death.”

  Ares’s gaze shifted to mine and stuck. Did he think I didn’t realize he cared for Marin?

  Dudes and hiding their feelings.

  The Master of Secrets sighed, then sat. He gestured to two chairs in front of us. “You may as well have a seat.”

  “Thank you.” I sat. Ares joined me, taking the other chair.

  “What is this place?” Ares asked. “Marin worked for us in the Vampire Court, but we didn’t realize he had a side job.”

  “It’s not a job. More of a calling. Informas assist us as their time permits them to.” The Master o
f Secrets steepled his hands together. “This is the Order of the Secret Stealers.”

  “Marin was an Informa?” Ares asked.

  “He was. Though they frequently do not reveal themselves, even to those that care about them.”

  Informas. I’d heard of them before. They were a sort of supernatural who could steal information from someone’s mind. I remembered the info written on the cards in the card catalogue at the top of the bell tower.

  “But what do you do with the information you have?” I asked. “Do you just take it to know it?”

  Like gossip hounds? What was the purpose?

  He sighed. “Some of it, yes. It is our passion—to know all. But the most important secrets—those upon which the safety of supernaturals rests—those we protect.”

  “How?” Ares asked.

  “Through a very complex spell that ensures it never gets out.”

  “Yikes.” I leaned forward. “Does that mean you kill whoever you steal it from so that they don’t know it?”

  “Of course not! We aren’t murderers. But it is also why the protection spell is so complex. We must compel an unknown number of individuals to never speak of the secret.”

  I leaned forward. “So was Marin after one of these super secrets?”

  “He was. Though I do not know the nature of it.”

  “Did he just go after it recently?” I asked. “Right before he was killed?”

  The Master of Secrets’s brow crumpled, and he swallowed hard. “Yes. He left on the mission only three days ago.”

  “Then it’s probably no coincidence that he was murdered shortly after,” Ares said.

  “Do you know who else might want this secret?” I asked. “Maybe they killed him for it?”

  “Or they were the people he took the information from,” Ares said. “They may want vengeance.”

  “Either is possible. Even likely,” the Master of Secrets said. “We can give you the location of his last mission. I don’t know what he sought there, but we often shared the location of our hunts as a safety mechanism.”

  “Thank you.” My heart raced. This could be it. These people he was leading us to might be Marin’s murderers. They might be the answer to me getting the collar off.

  The Master of Secrets pulled a piece of paper from his drawer and wrote on it, then passed it across the desk. “He went to an ancient Cathar castle in Southern France. It is inhabited by Cathar Perfecti. There are coordinates on that paper. Marin worked hard to get them. But what he found there, I do not know.”

  “Weren’t the Cathars a medieval religious sect? I thought they died out after the Catholics defeated them in their crusade. Thirteenth century, wasn’t it?” I asked.

  “The human Cathars did not fare well,” the Master of Secrets said. “But there was one sect that survived. Supernaturals who hid themselves with powerful magic. They missed the massacre and the horror.”

  “Are they still hidden?” I asked. “Can we even find them?”

  “They no longer use magic to hide their whereabouts because no one hunts them any longer. Magic like that costs a lot of money, and they don’t have it. Anyway, their enemies are no longer in the business of crusades, so why bother?”

  “But it took Marin a long time to find the place?” I asked. “Otherwise you’d have gotten your information sooner.”

  The Master of Secrets nodded. “They’ve been all but forgotten by history, thought to be dead. Now they are a quiet settlement, well guarded from uninvited guests. Or so Marin believed.”

  Of course they were well guarded. No way we’d be lucky enough to just walk right up to their doorstep.

  “What kind of protections do they have?”

  “Marin believed that it was primarily enchantments to repel humans. I can imagine they’d prefer not to have confused hikers at their door.”

  “Any chance you could give them a heads up we’re coming?” I asked. “Peaceful visit, questions only?”

  “No, I don’t know them so my word will mean nothing. Marin had to navigate the dangers himself. He didn’t know what to expect, as he learned of it secondhand, or he would have told me. We shared as much as we could about our missions in case we didn’t return.”

  I glanced at Ares, quirking a brow. He nodded subtly. This was all we would get here.

  We stood.

  “Thank you for the help,” I said.

  “My pleasure.” The Master of Secrets nodded. “When you achieve justice for Marin, please let me know.”

  I hoped I’d have some good news for him. Because if I had no news about Marin’s real killer, I’d be too dead to deliver it anyway.

  Chapter Eleven

  Six of the “brothers” escorted us to the public exit. Three in front of us, three behind. It was billed as a polite gesture, but it was really just a way of ensuring we didn’t snoop around anymore.

  After the structural damage we’d caused, I couldn’t blame them.

  The brothers were supernaturals of all varieties, but after feeling out their magical signatures, it became clear that they all shared a particular scent to their magic. It was like old paper. Marin had smelled the same.

  That must be the Informa’s signature.

  “So, you guys do a lot of secret hunting?” I asked as they led us down the hall toward the main door.

  No one answered me.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Still, no answer. One of the three at the front opened a heavy wooden door, and we were escorted out into the familiar alley. The same one we’d tried to break in through last night.

  “This is your public entrance?” I asked. It was so violent and dirty, what with the booby traps and homicidal guard demons that we’d encountered last night.

  “We don’t really want visitors.” The tallest Informa said.

  “Mission accomplished,” I said.

  He gestured down the alley. “Continue on.”

  They led us down the smelly corridor, past dumpsters and the places where the booby traps had gone off last night. Thankfully, there were no repeats. When we reached the end of the alley, the tallest Informa stepped forward. “This is where we leave you. Do not return.”

  I waved at them, but their stony gazes were hard as they disappeared back down the alley.

  “That’s a tough crowd,” I said.

  “They’re certainly wary of outsiders.” Ares stepped out into the sunlight of the main street.

  I followed, leaving the smelly shadows of the alley behind. We had a plan. I held on to that tightly. The idea that I had less than two days left threatened to overwhelm me. Focusing on the plan helped.

  Ares turned to me. “I’ll transport us to—”

  A small silver sphere fell out of the air and landed between us. A sonic boom threw us off our feet. I slammed into the wall behind me, pain streaking through me as my knees gave out, and I slid to the ground. Through hazy vision, I saw attackers come from either side of the alley.

  They’d been waiting. Four of them.

  Ares was on the ground fifteen feet away. I gasped and struggled upright, conjuring a sword and shield as a tall man in a black coat leapt for me. His magic surged around him, and he threw a fireball straight for my head.

  I raised my shield. The fireball slammed into it. I peeked around my protection. My attacker was charging up another fireball, while Ares was fighting two attackers in the distance. His shadow sword swirled on the air.

  I wasn’t going to get this Fire Mage with a sword, so I dropped it and conjured a knife.

  He threw another fireball at me, which I barely blocked. While he was charging up another, I lowered the shield and hurled my knife at him.

  It sank into his neck. The flame that surrounded his palm died. He collapsed.

  Guilt flared inside me as my FireSoul flared. I hated killing. But it had been him or me, and it wasn’t going to be me. I staggered away from him, fighting the urge to steal his magic. It rose up inside me, hungry even though my stomac
h lurched at the idea.

  A shuffling sounded from behind me. I whirled. Another attacker came at me with a sword raised. He was bigger than me and looked a hell of a lot meaner.

  No big deal.

  This, I could handle.

  I swooped up my sword from the ground and charged him. Our blades clanged.

  He pressed his sword hard against mine, as if trying to use his greater strength to force my own sword back onto me. Or force me to drop it.

  Ha. As if I’d drop my sword.

  I took advantage of his stupid maneuver and kicked him in the gut, then ducked low and pulled away from him. As he was recovering, I swung my blade hard for his, knocking his own from his hands.

  I pressed the tip of my sword to his throat, forcing him backward until he stood against the wall.

  A quick glance behind my shoulder showed that Ares had killed one of his attackers and had another—a woman—by the throat.

  I turned back to the big man who’d come at me with the sword. He had a bald head and big mustache, like a carnival strongman. But the menace in his dark eyes and the tattoo of a dragon that covered his head made him look more threatening than entertaining.

  His gaze darted behind me, presumably to Ares and the woman.

  “Why are you trying to kill me?” I demanded.

  He spat at me. I dodged, barely.

  “Gross.” I pressed the blade slightly harder against his throat. “I really don’t mind killing you for information. Not after you tried to cut off my head.”

  “Do it.” But his gaze darted back behind me. To Ares and the woman. Worry glittered in his eyes.

  Ah.

  A weak point. Just like the Monster had used with me. I felt sick using the same tactic of threatening a loved one, but I called out to Ares.

  “Don’t kill her!” I said. “Bring her closer.”

  “Fine.” Ares dragged the woman closer until I could see them out of the corner of my eye.

  I turned to the man. “Tell me why you’re after me, or he’ll kill her.”

  As soon as I said the words, my stomach lurched. I hated this. It was different than killing someone while protecting yourself. That was heat of the moment, kill or be killed. And I knew that there was no way I could do it. Or order Ares to do it.