by Ashley Meira
It was always Symeon’s apartment.
I stepped into the gilded elevator and hit the button for the penthouse. It didn’t happen very often, but Symeon managed to get himself in trouble at least a few times a year. No idea how his neighbors put up with it.
As I pulled out my sword, I caught sight of a petition taped to the wall. It was for Symeon to move into a private estate in the Garden District, the most prestigious district in Santa Fae. The same paper had been here last year, and it looked like people had taken to signing their name all over the page. Several times.
The golded doors opened into a hall with a single door at the end. It burst open and a vampire stumbled out. He ran at me, clutching his head and screaming. I twirled my sword, waiting until he was close enough before sidestepping him and slicing his head off. Beheading was a good way to kill almost anything. If that didn’t work, then fire would. It wasn’t a foolproof motto, but I found it was a good way to live my life.
Symeon’s living room was swarmed with vampires either gripping their heads or throwing themselves out the window that made up the entire right wall.
“Damn it, Symeon,” I said loudly. “You don’t even need my help. Your siren powers are getting the job done just fine.”
Four more vampires had leapt to their deaths while I was speaking. Coming all the way up here to find out he didn’t need me was annoying. But since I was here, I may as well help out.
The pale, spiky haired girl didn’t notice me walk up to her, but the man nearby noticed when I lopped off her head. Fortunately, he was too busy screaming to do anything. I took his head off too. I continued around the room, beheading vampires and feeling like a total jerk about it. It felt wrong doing this when they couldn’t defend themselves.
Once the last vampire hit the polished hardwood floor, I closed my eyes and scanned the apartment. Salt water tickled my tongue and the smell of incense wafted from the double doors beside the kitchenette. Putting on my most unimpressed look, I walked over and wrenched the doors open.
Even cowering in his pantry, Symeon managed to look elegant. Not a single strand of his luscious black hair was out of place, and the sweat covering his face only served to give him a dewy glow. Long, dark eyelashes cast shadows over his alabaster skin as he fluttered his eyes at me. When I didn’t melt under his charms, his full lips curved into a smile. Symeon always did like a challenge.
“Sophia, darling, you are an absolute—”
“Sucker,” I said flatly. “You did not—”
“Yes, yes, I heard you grouching out there.” His voice was soft as crushed velvet, his movements smooth as silk. He stood up and dusted himself off with his right hand. His left was holding onto a rectangular cardboard box with a plain envelope balanced on top of it. “I did wait for you. Unfortunately, I left my watch on the dresser, so I had no idea how long I’d been waiting. For all I knew, it could’ve been hours. I had to do something.”
“It was five minutes, and your dramatics don’t work on me.”
His smile widened. “I know. It just makes me want you more.”
“I know.” What I didn’t know was whether my immunity had anything to do with being Fireborn. When a siren turned their charms on someone, that person rarely resisted. I’d seen mages that could crush mountains with a flick of their wrist fall for Symeon’s allure, but it had never worked on me. It wasn’t like I didn’t find him attractive — he was gorgeous. Maybe I was just immune to bullshit.
His eyes raked over my body. “I usually prefer when people dress up for me, but you’ve made me start to prefer the opposite.”
I scoffed, but brought my arms over my chest. “Yeah, I’m sure you usually hate when people take their clothes off for you.”
“Actually, I prefer a more hands-on approach.” His deep voice was heavy with intent. “Now that the formalities are concluded, would you like a drink?”
“I’m on duty.”
“I won’t tell. I quite enjoy the thought of being your dirty little secret.”
If only he knew my real secret.
“Will you tell me why legions of the undead are after your ass?”
He turned around to give me a view of said ass. “They have good taste?”
I rolled my eyes. “Goodbye, Symeon.”
“Oh, all right.” He sighed dramatically. “Would it make you feel better if I showed you the reason why the vampires were here?” he said, placing the box on his kitchen counter.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you’re talking about your ass.”
A thousand watt smile lit up his face. “Darling, if you wanted to see—”
I pulled out my sword.
“I recently acquired a new artifact,” he said quickly. “It’s upset some people.”
“Upset as in they want it, or upset as in it randomly appears in their house and eats all their cheese?”
“That was one time, and I’ve put the item in storage,” he said firmly. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“I was looking forward to that burger,” I huffed, sitting at the counter.
“It only ate the cheese.”
“It’s not a burger without cheese.”
Symeon’s pleasant demeanor held true. “Don’t worry, darling, this artifact isn’t eating anyone’s cheese.”
“So, why are vampire lackeys after…whatever this is?”
He shrugged. “There are lots of cutthroat collectors out there. Any one of them could have hired brainless muscle. And they’d have to — I’ve got the best in the business working for me.” He shot me a coy wink.
Unfazed by his flattery, I asked, “Does that mean I recovered this artifact for you and forgot about it?”
“No, I had a contact procure it for me.”
I stared at him expectantly.
“Don’t be sad, my dear. You are still my favorite—”
“I’ll shove that box off the table.”
“It’s a counter,” he said primly before yanking the package away from me. His long, elegant fingers gently pulled the box open. “This was found during an expedition in the waters near Cape Sounion. When I caught wind of what the crew had gotten their hands on, I absolutely had to have it.”
His eyes glittered as he peered down at his treasure. “Unfortunately, the crew works for the Council, so it fell under their purview. I had to ask someone with influence to get it for me.”
“I thought you had close ties with the Council?” That was another reason I did jobs for him. While Symeon may not be on the Council, he had close friends who were. It never hurt to have someone well-connected in your corner — assuming he didn’t hate me once he learned I was Fireborn.
“Of course, I do,” he said. “Just not at the moment.”
“Not at the moment?”
“I assure you I will once again be in good standing the moment Sabrina and Reginald Hollingsworth cease their silent standoff.”
I could feel the eye roll coming. “Go on.”
“It’s simple — both of them feel like they have the moral high ground because they know I slept with the other.”
There it was. I dropped my head into my arms. “Unbelievable.”
“Really?”
“No. Continue.”
“When they speak to each other again, they’ll realize they’re both adulterers and drop the affair — pun unintended — lest they both suffer a blow to their pride.”
Wearily, I rolled my head up to look at him. “I don’t even remember how this started. You’re very good at making people forget what they’re talking about.”
“Or thinking about or doing…. I’m a siren, darling. No one is immune to my charm. Except you.” He licked his lips, eyes gleaming. “I still haven’t figured out why that is.”
“Because you pay well, and I know the only things that hold your interest are things you can’t have.” And possibly because I was your friendly neighborhood boogeyman. I made jokes whe
n I was scared. It was a coping mechanism.
Symeon reeled back, clutching his chest. “You’re only using me for my money? Sophia, I’m hurt!”
He was a good actor, but I’d known him long enough to see through his bullshit. His show was fun to watch, though not after a long day of playing cops and robbers with a doped up mage. And definitely not when I was essentially topless.
I walked toward the door. “The vampires are dead. You are not. Based on the lack of crying, I’m guessing your new find is intact. I’ll see you later.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He grabbed my wrist. I shivered. His touch was always chilled, like the ocean. “I was only joking, love. If you were only in it for the money, you’d have accepted the proposition I made when we first met. ” He flashed a dashing smile. “The offer still stands, by the way.”
I frowned. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Even if it’s just actual sleep?” he asked demurely.
“No.”
He gestured toward the box. “What if I showed you the Teeth?”
“Teeth?” I asked. “There are vampire heads all over your living room because of teeth? What are they, Dracula’s baby teeth?”
He smiled excitedly and went to take it out. “Better.”
“His adult teeth?”
The box he slid in front of me was bronze, encrusted with a variety of blue gems. Detailed waves were engraved on the front, and a sea creature that looked like Cthulu adorned the lid. There was magic protecting it — ancient magic that sent tingles through my fingertips, potent enough to physically feel.
“This isn’t going to explode, is it?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. The Teeth won’t bite.”
My brows furrowed. “They’re actually teeth?”
“Mhm.” He reached forward and opened the latches. “The Teeth of Poseidon.”
Resting on a teal satin cloth were eight white fangs, each attached to a thin string of pearls. Upon closer inspection, I realized the fangs were pearl too. They were the length of my finger and curved to a blunt point. The scent of sea water filled the air, diffusing the heavy feel of the Teeth’s magic. These relics had survived thousands of years, and I felt humbled to stand before them.
“Wow.” I was smooth.
Symeon didn’t seem to mind. “Indeed.”
“What do they do?”
“They’re charms. They allow a person to breathe underwater and speak the language of the water’s denizens.”
Waves of ancient magic washed over me, stealing my breath. I closed the box, its magic tickling my fingers — and my Fire’s appetite. “Thank you for showing them to me.”
“You’re quite welcome, my dear. They’re truly lovely, aren’t they? Unlike my home,” he added with a sigh. “I should have taken Mr. Pierce more seriously when he told me to keep my guard up.”
My eyes widened. “Pierce? As in the Pierce family? As in the family whose security makes Fort Knox look like a bouncy house? As in the family that spawned two of the most powerful mages of our time?”
So much for keeping cool. I’d crack under an Inquisitor in two seconds flat. I couldn’t help it. Mentioning the Council bothered me on the best of days, but this was the third time they’d been mentioned today. That was the rule, wasn’t it? Say something three times and it’ll appear. I wasn’t eager to test that. Especially since I was two for three on the Pierce family.
They were one of the big players on the Council. Apparently, the man who suggested forming the Council in the first place was a Pierce. Before, they were nobility. Now, they were a multinational corporation with fingers in dozens of pies, from art to military weaponry. Practically every mage from their family was guaranteed to be a powerhouse — something they proved twice over with their latest heirs, Adam and Damien Pierce. In fact, their security had increased tenfold since Adam became CEO of Pierce Incorporated.
Basically, they were trouble, and I never wanted to run into either of them. Or their father. Hell, I didn’t even want to run into their cat. That had gotten way more difficult when Damien opened his gallery around the corner from my best friend’s cafe, but I’d managed to succeed so far.
“Yes, them.” Symeon waved his hand dismissively. “Actually, Damien offered his brother’s security force as protection once he handed over the Teeth.”
“And you refused because?”
“Because Damien was repaying a debt when he helped me get the Teeth. If I accepted his offer, then I’d be in his debt.”
“I hate politics.”
“And I hate owing people.”
“I feel like everyone hates that,” I said, giving the area a once-over. “Just to be clear: this was the job you needed doing? Everything is okay now that the vampires are dead?”
He looked around the living room.
“I’m not a maid.”
“Would you at least consider wearing the costume? It’ll get you out of those filthy clothes.”
I pulled out my sword.
“Fine.” He sighed dramatically. “I’ll just make a call. But at least take this.”
He held up a finger and headed toward his bedroom. He returned with an elegant suit jacket. It was sleek, navy blue, and probably cost more than everything in my closet combined.
He stepped behind me and held the jacket up. “Go on, then. No need to walk around like you crossed a vampiric minefield after a night at the strip club.”
“That the best you got?”
“Can you think of something better?”
I pursed my lips, looking at him over my shoulder. “You really want to lend me that? I’m covered in blood and dirt.”
“As usual,” he said dryly. “I’m not lending it to you, darling. It’s a gift.”
My jaw dropped. “Are you sure?”
“I was going to get rid of it anyway. It’s last season.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course it was. Still, he was being nice, and the act brought a smile to my face. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome, love.”
He helped me slip the jacket on. I almost moaned at the sensation. Holy shit. The silk sliding across my skin was pure heaven. The fit was a little off, though. Symeon was slim-built, but he was taller than me. Then again, this could have been five times my size, and I’d still take it.
He placed a hand on my back and walked me to the door, pausing to grab the envelope he’d been hiding with. “Here.”
“What?” I took the envelope from him and opened it, raising a brow. “Um—”
“The Mercenary Guild’s usual fee for vampire exterminations, minus the cut your boss takes.”
Warmth flooded my chest. Now I felt bad about being snippy. He could be a handful, but Symeon had always been sweet to me.
“Thank you.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek before exiting the apartment. “I appreciate it.”
“I certainly hope so,” he called after me. “I risked my life guarding that, you know!”
Never mind. I didn’t feel bad at all.
Walking through Water Nymph Bay in a man’s suit jacket drew some stares, but nowhere near as many as my ripped tank top and bra would have. A young couple pushing a poodle in a stroller walked toward me, their pointed noses wrinkling as they passed. I waited for them to leave before not-so-subtly sniffing myself. Okay, fine, I stunk.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I only used my communication ring with the people closest to me. The rest of them had to reach me through my phone. Like Elizabeth, the Guild secretary.
“Hey, Elizabeth.”
“Hello,” she said in her usual calm tone. I thought it made her sound robotic, but it put the clients at ease. “Roger needs you in his office.”
“Now? Did he say why?”
“Yes, now. And no, he didn’t. Just that you need to hurry.”
“Sure.” I ran a hand through my bloodied hair. “Let me call Fiona for a portal—”
“Fiona is on a job. Someone tried to ride one of the unicorns i
n the nearby woods.”
I groaned. You never, ever got on a unicorn without their permission. I didn’t envy Fiona at all. “I guess I’m taking the bus. It’ll be at least twenty minutes.”
“I’ll let him know. Please hurry,” she added before hanging up.
It took me fifteen minutes to find a bus and get to the Guild. Luckily, residents of Santa Fae were used to seeing blood-soaked, sword-wielding mercenaries on public transport. As an added bonus, I had plenty of elbow room. No one wanted wanted to stand next to the girl who was covered in vampire bits and reeked of sweat.
The Mercenary Guild stood at the cusp of the Business District’s more affluent section. It was a large unassuming brick building with a parking lot in front of it. Usually, the elite sent employees to post jobs for them, so there wasn’t a lot of effort placed in making the outside look pretty. There were a few cars parked around the lot, but the only one that stood out was a bright red Ferrari in the far corner.
The guild’s interior wasn’t anything special either. The walls of the reception room were a warm red color and the floor was white. This was as far as most clients went, so it was the nicest looking part of the building. Not that the rest of the guild was dirty — Roger just hadn’t bothered repainting anything.
Elizabeth was behind the large redwood desk in the center of the room. Her makeup was flawless, like she had a professional makeup team at her beck and call. She stopped typing when I entered, her gray eyes widening as she took me in.
“That’s an…interesting look.” She fixed her auburn hair and smoothed down her pantsuit as if it would somehow make me look better.
“Busy day,” I told her.
“It’s about to get busier,” she said. “Someone’s requested you for a job.”
I raised a brow. Only high-ranked mercenaries got personal requests. Fiona and I were in the middle, neither terrible nor exceptional. We were average, unremarkable, and we liked it that way.