Hidden Magic: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Touched By Magic: Dragon Book 1)
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Hidden Magic
Touched by Magic: Dragon Book One
Ashley Meira
Contents
Story Summary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Thank you!
Author’s Note
Also by Ashley Meira
Copyright © 2016 by Ashley Meira
All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously or are entirely fictional.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Inquiries may be addressed via email to meirabooks@gmail.com.
Editing is an imperfect process; mistakes always find a way to slip through. If you notice any typos or mistakes, please send a message pointing them out to meirabooks@gmail.com!
Cover design by Rebecca Frank (http://bookcovers.rebeccafrank.design)
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Story Summary
Being a mercenary has made Sophia an expert at kicking butt, and her heritage has made her a professional at hiding in plain sight. Sophia is Fireborn, the supernatural community’s public enemy number one. Fireborns have the ability to absorb magic — a gift that turns them into insane, power-hungry murderers.
After years on the run, Sophia and her sister have finally found a home for themselves and jobs at the Mercenary Guild. Killing monsters may be hard work, but she doesn’t need magic to do it. And as long as she keeps her powers under wraps, they’re safe.
When a super powerful, super sexy mage comes into her life with a job she can’t refuse, all Sophia wants to do is run and hide. But she’s sick of running. Too bad this job is connected to her in ways she never imagined. Not to mention Mr. Tall, Dark, and Trouble has picked up on the fact that she’s not all she appears to be. And if he keeps digging, this job will be the least of her worries…
Hidden Magic is the first book in the Touched By Magic: Dragon urban fantasy series.
Chapter One
A scream rang in the distance. My eyes snapped open, and I winced as grit stuck my lashes together. I felt like death. My insides were hollow, as if I were missing an important piece of myself. I looked up. My hands were bound above my head by thick chains.
Dark magic polluted the room, coating the entire space like an aggressive virus. Dark magic naturally corrupted the area it was spread around, but this was more than that. This magic had been here a long time. It lingered in a thick miasma, the evil seeping into the very bones of this place.
Where was I?
The room was dark, but flickering streams of light bled in from the hallway before me. I forced myself to look around.
My stomach dropped.
I was in a prison cell. But why?
Fear clawed at my chest.
I couldn’t remember anything.
Not my age or what I looked like — I couldn’t even remember my name.
Howling winds shattered the silence. I could see frost on the edges of the ceiling. That meant it was cold here. But I didn’t feel cold. I looked at my thin black bra and underwear. I didn’t have shoes or socks on either. There was nothing to keep me warm, so why wasn't I freezing?
I tried to force my unchained feet flat against the ground to alleviate the pain in my arms, but I was strung up too high. Something small scratched my toe. I poked at it. It was hard with jagged edges. A key.
Hope fluttered in my chest. I forced my body lower, trying to grasp the key with my toes. It took a few tries, and it felt like my shoulders were going to pop out of their sockets, but I finally managed to get a grip on it.
My ankles were free, and the key was too small for a door, so this had to be for my wrists. But why leave the key right in front of me? Was this a trap? Maybe, but I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t tie myself up. Someone had put me here.
And they could come back any minute.
With terror as my motivation, I gripped the chains holding me up. My arms shook as I braced myself. It felt like my body was going to snap in two, but I steeled my abdomen and lifted my legs over my head. My toes hit the chain, and the key scratched my knuckles. I grabbed it, and let my legs drop. The action hurt, but it felt practiced. Had I done this before?
I fumbled with the key, trying to feel for the hole. It bumped the corner before sliding in. I hit the cement with a loud thud. It hurt, but at least my arms were free. I almost cried in relief as the pins and needles assaulting my limbs faded.
As the adrenaline began to fade, the sickening, hollow feeling came back. It felt like part of my soul was gone, reduced to a dead Ember.
I closed my eyes and inhaled. The dark magic slid down my throat, coating it with pure evil. Something within me ached, the snuffed-out Ember crying for a flame. It reached for the miasma around me, but the dark magic was only a deep-seated imprint within the building’s walls. It didn’t have the power I coveted.
I wanted magic. Was I a mage?
Footsteps pounded down the hall, their beat getting louder with each step. My heart slammed against my chest. Guards? I moved to the cot behind me. I’d pretend to be asleep and—
Wait, no. I was supposed to be tied up.
I scrambled toward the chains, my fingertips grazing the metal. The chains rattled as I closed my hand around them. My muscles burned, but I managed to pull myself up until I was hanging like before.
“Never seen this place so empty,” a man with a gruff voice said.
“Boss took’em yesterday,” another man said. His voice was higher, nasally. “Every once and a while, he grabs a bunch of prisoners for his experiments.”
I shuddered, thinking of the experiments their boss was performing. Why was I spared?
“There’s only one person left in this section, right?”
“Yeah, but she’s not a prisoner. And don’t worry, this place won’t be empty for long. Boss’ll get a new batch of people.”
They were right outside. My heart was pounding and blood rushed through my veins like it had something to prove. Despite that, my Ember was screaming in anticipation. It wanted them to come closer, and I knew why.
Their magic.
It smelled heavy, like musk and smoke, but it may as well have been a five course meal to my Ember. Drool pooled in my mouth. I wanted nothing more than to get at their magic. The desire almost brought me to tears.
The door slid open with a loud creak.
One of the guards let out a low
whistle. “Damn. Boss was pissed.”
“Is she the one who was yelling at him a few days ago?” the gruff-voiced man asked.
“Don’t know. That was my day off.” Nasal Guard’s footsteps circled around me.
“You sure she’s not a prisoner?”
“Check her thigh. The brand means they’re special.”
Brand?
A gloved hand pushed me. I swung around, fighting against both the burning in my arms and the hunger in my soul. They were so close. I could lift myself up, wrap my legs around Gruff’s neck, and snap it. Then I could kick the other guard back, take his weapon, and…
And what? They were no good to me dead. Their magic would die with them.
The thought made my blood run cold. How had I planned that? Had I done it before? Why was killing my first instinct? Why did I only care about their deaths because it meant they wouldn’t be any use to me?
Who the hell was I?
“She’s gonna freeze to death like that,” Gruff said.
“What?” I could feel the other guard’s sneer. “Not into girls in their underwear?”
“Jesus Christ. She’s sixteen, you sick fuck.”
“Hey, that’s legal where I’m from.”
Maybe I should kill him.
“It’s not where I’m from. Besides, weren’t you the one who said the boss didn’t like it when people touched his toys?”
The nasally guard snorted. “The boss doesn’t like it when you breathe his air. Hell, he doesn’t even like people being on the same floor as him.”
“Sure, that sounds like a man you want to piss off.”
“Relax, I’m not going to do anything.” He gave me another shove.
My entire body trembled with the urge to grab them, to take the magic they had swirling around them, and consume.
“She’s shivering,” Gruff said.
“She’s fine.”
“It’s winter. I’m freezing, and I’m wearing body armor.”
“Man, relax. Her kind don’t get cold. Or hot. Not from weather or that shit. Toss her in a winter lake or a lava pit — she wouldn’t flinch.”
“Cold, too? I thought they were only fireproof.”
“Nah, man—”
“Fine,” Gruff interrupted. “Whatever. Let’s go. She’s the last one we need to check, and I want to sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”
The door slammed shut. I licked my lips, feeling their magic get farther and farther away. Their power was barely a drop of water, but I was parched, desperate. The thirst was so intense it burned deep into my bones. Another door closed ahead. I let go, stumbling toward the cell door. It squeaked under my weight.
The lock was old and rusted, but I wouldn’t be able to break it with my bare hands. I looked around the room. The only things here were a cot and the chains I’d been tied up in. I checked the cot, pulling and tugging at the various pieces. One of the bars that made up the headboard was loose. I tugged, pressing my foot against the wall for leverage.
The bar snapped off, and I rushed back to the door. I slammed the bar against the lock, flinching at the reverb in my ears and arms. The vibrations went all the way up to my shoulder, reminding me I’d spent at least several hours hanging in this cell. By the time the lock broke and fell to the ground, my arms were numb.
The bright hallway lights revealed a sickening sight. My skin was littered with bruises and scars. Dried blood coated my body along with some fresh blood around my wrists from the shackles. Greasy hair hung limply over one shoulder in a giant tangled mess.
“What the hell?” I breathed.
On the outer side of my left thigh was a brand in the shape of a giant phoenix with its wings outstretched and a dragon entwined around it — I couldn’t tell if it was hugging the phoenix or trying to smother it. The brand was big, covering over half my thigh. My skin wasn’t raised, and the lines of the brand were thin. It was as much a work of art as a mark of ownership. It was fully healed, meaning I’d had it for at least six months.
Who could have done this? Why? Was I a criminal? The guard said I wasn’t a prisoner, that I was special. I looked at my brand. Was I a slave?
Dread weighed me down. As much as I wanted to remember my life before today, I was also terrified of the possibilities.
I felt for the guards’ magic to see how far they’d gotten. My stomach let out a loud rumble as the Ember inside me raged. Two hungers and no cure for either. Why did I want magic so badly? Because I was tapped out? Was that how mages worked?
I could sense magic. The only mages who could do that were tracker mages. But it came naturally to them — like breathing. They didn’t expend magic to do it. If I was a tracker mage, why would I need more magic? Could I be a hybrid?
A regular mage could only use one type of magic — telekineses, fire, wind, and so on. The only exceptions were elemental mages, who could use as many elements as they could master, and hybrids, who could use any mix of magic, including elemental. Hybrids were even more rare than elemental mages, but it was possible I could be one of them.
The guards felt far enough away for me to keep going. There was a staircase at the end. I headed toward it.
The dark magic got heavier the farther I walked. It was desolate, nauseating, wrong. I could feel the evil weigh on me like a physical shroud. Was this the Boss’ magic? Could magic this corrupt even belong to one person? I looked down at my battered body and thought of the screams that had awoken me.
Yes, it could.
The stone staircase led up to a door. It was dark, and I fumbled around trying not to trip. The higher I went, the warmer it got. The guards mentioned my kind didn’t get hot or cold. But I felt the coolness of the stones in my cell and the warmth seeping under the door above. Everything felt like a mild version of what it should’ve been. The temperature simply wasn’t affecting me. How was that possible? What was I?
I tried to think of species that were immune to the effects of temperature, but what remained of my memory was hazy, coming back to me in bits and pieces. I could remember things about this world, but nothing about myself.
I pushed the door open. The evil magic was twice as potent here, competing with the hollowness inside me for what most made me want to die. Yet, like the guards’ magic, I hungered for it. It was like finding a bunch of rats after being starved for two months. I didn’t want it, but god did I want it.
I slid to the floor and dry heaved in the corner. What kind of freak was I?
The sound of footsteps interrupted me. I pushed myself up and rushed to the nearest door. Slipping in, I locked it behind me. The room was as dark as my cell, but at least it had a window. Moonlight illuminated the space, revealing several drawers around its perimeter.
My eyes landed on a figure standing next to me. I screamed, the sound hoarse and painful, and fell on my ass. I looked up at it. A suit of armor.
“Damn it.” My throat burned.
This room felt familiar, like I’d been here before. I let instinct guide me to an antique drawer in the far left corner. Magic hummed under my fingertips, flowing through each drawer. Enchantments — set to only allow the rightful owner to open their drawer. Some of the handles had sticker labels on them. There were names on the labels. Titus, Julian, Diana and…Sophia.
I wrenched the drawer open.
Disappointment filled me. Two rings. That’s all there was. I took them both out. One ring was plain silver with a large oval stone in the middle. The stone was milky white with an opaque surface. A lightstone, I remembered. I slid it on my left middle finger.
Enchanted items generally fell under the category of “easy to use, hard to find.” If it belonged to me, all I had to do was will it….
The opaque stone lit up, filling the room with a soft yellow light. Well, my name was definitely Sophia. It was a small victory, but it meant the world to have some sense of identity.
I looked at the other ring in my palm. The band was platinum with something
engraved on it. They looked like words, but I didn’t recognize the language. It was topped by a square-cut ruby. There was magic in the ring, but I couldn’t get it to do anything.
How could I own something like this? The ruby was almost as big as my thumb. Could it be fake? No, even as I thought it I knew the ruby was real. Maybe I was the heiress to some rich and powerful family. A girl could dream.
I patted the drawer interior in case there were hidden compartments, but it seemed those rings were all I had. In there, I forced myself to remember. There had to be more elsewhere. I tried the other drawers, but the enchantment kept them sealed.
I traced a finger over the other three names. Who were these people? Family? Was this our home? It didn’t feel like home. It felt like Hell, and I couldn’t even remember anything about it. Were they still here, locked up in another part of the dungeon, or had the Boss taken them for his experiments?
Tears welled in my eyes.
Was I all alone?
The ruby ring was a too big for my other fingers, so I slid it onto my left thumb. A pair of eye sockets were staring at me when I looked up. A row of masks hung above the drawer. They were made of leather with ridges over the forehead and a mouthpiece that was designed to look like a rows of sharp fangs. The only difference between the masks were their colors — red, blue, white, and black. Creepy.
I considered looking around the rest of the room, but nothing was tugging me in any particular direction. The rest of these drawers felt enchanted, too, so I wouldn’t be able to open them.
I shined my light on the armor that had scared me. The metal hadn’t been polished in a while, but it showed my ratty and tired reflection just fine.
I pressed my fingers against my face, wincing when I touched the cuts. The two giant bruises around my brown eyes made me look like a panda, and my split lip made me look like a Fight Club reject.
Great. Apparently, I could remember a movie from years ago, but not my own age. The guard said I was sixteen, didn’t he? That looked about right. I turned around, taking myself in completely. There were scars on my back. Whipping marks, I remembered with a wince. There was something else disturbing.