by Ashley Meira
“Think the jacket’s fancy enough to distract from the rest of the outfit?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “No. Do you have a change of clothes in your locker?”
“I did yesterday. Then I needed to change and forgot to replace the outfit.”
She frowned.
I buttoned the jacket.
“Still no.”
“Well, does Roger want me to meet him now, or does he want me dolled up?”
“Go,” she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “But if he asks, I was in the bathroom and didn’t see you come in like this.”
“Deal.”
I went through the doorway on my left and walked down the hall. Roger’s office was in the back. My footsteps were silent against the floor, another skill I’d inherited from the girl I used to be.
When we were younger, Fiona and I had spent hours guessing what our lives had been like. None of our thoughts had been pleasant, so we started making up stories. The idea of being kept in a cage as we were wheeled off to the slave market sapped our will to live more than we wanted to admit. It was easier to imagine Fiona as a fairy princess and me as the heir to some mysterious, noble line.
I ran a hand over the hilt of my sword. Once we had escaped and been properly fed, we discovered a few things about ourselves. I found out I was quite proficient at breaking bones and slicing throats. I was also very acrobatic. Oh, and I had crazy strong magic that could burn down a house in one hit. I was like the perfect killing machine. When I realized that, I’d hated it, hated myself. I thought I was a freak, a monster like that vampire said.
Fiona had slapped me and told me to get my act together. She said she had good taste, so there’s no way her sister could be a monster. Without her by my side, I never would’ve made it this far.
“Whoa,” I breathed, staggering back. There was a mage here. I’d been so distracted thinking about my past I didn’t realize I’d been moving on autopilot. The green door that led into Roger’s office greeted me. Roger didn’t have magic, so it wasn’t him.
The magic didn’t feel familiar, but it was pleasant. It reminded me of the forest, of pine trees and sitting in front of a roaring fire while it snowed outside. It was warm and strong, yet it tasted soft, like vanilla. I liked it, and the realization made me sick.
Not because the Fire inside me wanted to feed off it, to take the magic and use it to ignite itself into a burning inferno writhing with powerful magic. Though that was there too. What made me sick was the power in that magic. It was ancient, like the magic around the Teeth of Poseidon had been. But this wasn’t humbling magic that had stood the test of time. This magic was active. Deadly.
And it was on the other side of that door waiting for me.
Before I could turn tail and run, the door opened, leaving me face-to-face with the nicest collection of muscles I’d ever seen in my life.
The man wore dark jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that accentuated every muscle of his chest. I forced myself to look up and instantly regretted it. His eyes were gray, bold and pretty like river rocks. His tousled dark hair accentuated the chiseled lines of his face. He was gorgeous in that rugged model sort of way. And dangerous. Very dangerous. I knew because I’d seen him before. Not in person, but in the news.
He was Adam Pierce, and his magic felt like an entire ocean had dropped on me.
Chapter Four
The best thing would have been to remain calm so he wouldn’t notice anything was wrong. The absolute worst thing would have been to panic and let my magic zing around like a pinball on crack.
I never claimed to make good decisions.
My breaths were deafening as I stood there, looking at Adam like he was the boogeyman his Council thought I was. Raw power danced in his eyes, and I’d have given my right arm to be able to look away. He spared me the sacrifice and stepped aside.
“Come in.” Even his voice sounded dangerous. Rough and strong with a hint of amusement, like he knew something no one else did.
What were the odds I could run away? He captured my gaze again. I could hear his magic sizzle and snap, like wild lightning crackling behind his storm gray eyes. His lips curved up in challenge.
I wouldn’t make it two feet.
“Sophia.” Roger peered at me from behind his desk, his round face drooping at my lack of movement. If there was one thing Roger didn’t like, it was losing face in front of clients. He gestured to the pair of chairs in front of him. “Have a seat.”
I stepped inside, trying to subtly edge around Adam and his immense magical aura. I wouldn’t absorb anything unless he touched me with his magic, but that didn’t make it feel any less intense. His magic felt like a separate entity, solid and alive. I was worried getting too close would cause it to grab me. It was a damn venus flytrap. Attractive and alluring to draw you in, then BAM.
I stood behind the chair, my fingers tightening around the top. Roger bristled in his seat, and he shot me a pointed look. Don’t be rude to the customers.
Being rude wasn’t something I aspired to. But sometimes people just couldn’t be reasoned with. Like prissy old ladies who hired bodyguards for their fancy shindigs and got mad when they showed up with weapons. Or stuffy rich guys who insisted on micromanaging every little thing I did, because clearly they knew how to corral a herd of rampaging centaurs better than an experienced professional. Sometimes a girl needed to say, “Shut the hell up, and get out of the way before you get yourself killed.”
Roger didn’t have to worry about that this time. I wasn’t going to be rude to Adam Pierce. I wasn’t going to speak to Adam Pierce. Hell, I wasn’t even going to look at him. I was going to get through this meeting, go home, and possibly throw up.
I tried to keep my voice steady. “You wanted to see me?”
“Adam Pierce, this is Sophia Sinclair.” Roger gestured between us. “Sophia, Mr. Pierce has a job for you.”
“No,” I blurted out.
Roger froze, looking at me like I’d just shot his cat.
Adam stepped forward, lips pulling up into an even more devastating grin. “No?”
“No,” I stammered, trying to think of an excuse. Funeral? Not long enough to get me out of this. Sick? Roger would just postpone — or make me suffer through it. Pregnant? He’d get me tested. Injured? I could stab myself, but Adam was a hybrid — he could be a healer.
I was screwed.
“No…time. I had no time to change.” I waved a hand over my front. “Out of this mess. From earlier.” Nailed it.
Adam looked me over, predatory gaze still in place. “I think you look great.”
I jolted forward. His magic hit me like an avalanche. My Fire smoldered, eager for a taste.
“I’m— You’re—” It was impossible to speak with his magic surrounding me.
“You’re Sophia Sinclair, and I’m Adam Pierce,” he said slowly. Perfect white teeth peeked out as he bore down on me. “Remember?”
“Yes, thank you,” I ground out. They were a pain in my ass, but jerks were great at snapping me out of my thoughts. “Council families use high-ranked mercenaries. Mages and all those badasses above my level.”
“Mr. Pierce specifically requested you,” Roger said.
“Why?” I was asking God more than either of them. “Why me?”
“I wanted the person who caught the thief today.”
Cyrus? We’d found him in his stash house. Fiona should’ve given Roger the address for the families to retrieve their stuff. “Corbins’ people got to him first?”
“Yes,” Adam said bitterly, lips pursed tight. Even angry he was attractive, which topped the list of things I shouldn’t be thinking.
“Ask them to share,” I said. He didn’t look like the type of guy who asked for anything. More like one who took what he wanted. “Nicely.”
“I did. Nicely,” he added, grin still in place. “He refused.”
“Yeah, Jeffery’s a jerk.”
“Sophia,” Roger hissed.
&nb
sp; “Actually, it was his older brother.”
“Thomas?” I wondered out loud. “He has a stick up his ass, but he’s always polite. Unlike his douchebag brother.”
Roger stood up. “Mr. Pierce, I apologize for—”
“No need.” Adam didn’t bat an eye. “She’s right. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” I asked.
He smirked. “They’re both douchebags.”
I snorted, swallowing my lower lip to prevent a smile. “So, what is it? You want me to ask if you can speak to Cyrus?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned over. I flinched, taking a step back. He seemed to enjoy making me jump at his every move. “Can you be nice?”
“Nicer than you,” I muttered. If I listened very carefully, I could hear Roger having an aneurysm.
“Do you always have such a smart mouth?”
“Yes.”
“One of the items Cyrus stole is still missing,” Roger said. His face was flushed and sweat had begun staining his shirt. “Mr. Pierce would like you to find it.”
“You want me to dig through all the stuff he hoarded?” I crossed my arms. “Why don’t you just wait until they finish taking inventory?”
“They have finished,” he said. “It’s not there.”
“Are you sure he stole it?”
He narrowed his eyes. At least he wasn’t feeling me up with his magic.
If he thought one of us took it, he’d have said so. Adam Pierce didn’t seem like the type of man to dance around anything. But there was no reason to request me specifically. We’d caught the job and visited the scene of the last theft for “clues.” I picked up Cyrus’ magic and tracked him down. The job had taken all day, but I didn’t have any special insights that would make him want me.
I shook my head, chasing away thoughts of Adam Pierce wanting me in any way.
Roger slid over the contract he’d drawn up. “Mr. Pierce has agreed to pay you the same rate he’d pay our top mercenaries.”
Oh, sure, that’s totally not suspicious. My brows shot up when I scanned over the contract. So that’s how much the upper tier made. Geez. Even with Symeon’s money weighing down my pocket, I couldn’t afford to turn down this much pay.
“Is there a reason you can’t do this job?” Roger asked.
Roger took his business seriously, especially when the client was an important figure in our world. If I turned this down, I’d need to give him one hell of a reason. And “I’m afraid he’ll throw me in prison or kill me” wasn’t an option.
Adam regarded us silently. His posture was rigid, militant, and spoke to immense control. But there was a dangerous edge to him that told me he wasn’t afraid to kill when it was necessary. Like upon discovering a Fireborn that had been roaming around free for the last eight years.
“Just wondering about Fiona,” I said. “Why not hire her instead? She caught Cyrus with me, and she has magic.”
“She’s on the job.”
“She’s chasing a unicorn, not going off to war.”
Roger stared at me, then grabbed a pen. “Sign by the X.”
All of a sudden, the papers in my hand felt like the Devil’s own contract. I signed, chewing my lip and wondering how many fairies I’d need to open a portal to Pluto. Adam would never find me on Pluto.
His magic flared, the pine-fresh scent flooding the room.
Maybe he would.
With a sigh, I handed the contract back and watched Roger hand Adam his copy.
I looked at my arm and frowned. Right. Four rings, no watch. I patted my pockets and pulled out my phone. Adam plucked it from my hand.
“Hey!”
“My phone number. You’ll need it if we’re going to be working together.”
“Working together” sounded a lot nicer than “working for,” but it brought to mind all sorts of distracting thoughts. Which meant I needed to see a shrink ASAP. Preferably on Pluto.
“Then ask,” I huffed. “Don’t just take. It’s rude.”
He didn’t look up. “What’s your password?”
“Don’t ignore me.”
Roger sighed. “S—”
I held my hand out. “Give it back.”
Adam grinned and placed the phone in my hand. His fingers glanced against my palm, leaving electricity in their wake.
“Give me the number.” I couldn’t hear myself over my heartbeat. “I can meet you at your office tomorrow morning to discuss the job.”
“No need,” he said, opening the door. “We can discuss it now. I’ll give you a ride home.”
I turned to Roger, who looked like he would explode at my next snarky comment. “No, thank you. I’d much rather we do this in an official capacity. Tomorrow.”
He grinned. “Does it hurt sounding so stiff and pompous? It sounds like it hurts.”
You know what else would hurt? My sword through his— I took a deep breath. “Goodbye.”
He stepped in front of the door, barring my path. “How did you get here?”
His body blocked the entire door. I considered climbing over him, but he was too tall. Six two, maybe six three. “Bus.”
“Is your car here?”
“No.”
“Good,” he said smugly. “I’ll give you a ride.”
“I’d rather walk.”
“I was raised a gentlemen—”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I muttered.
“—and it would be very rude of me to let a beautiful woman walk home at night.”
“…It’s four.”
“Four-thirty.” He stepped aside and gestured down the hall. “If you don’t want to discuss work, we can talk about something else.”
I gaped at him. What did I have to do? Actually stab him? I turned to Roger for help, but he looked as flustered as I did.
His mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to say, “Mr. Pierce, I must remind you that the contract you signed states there are to be no romantic interactions, intimate or otherwise, between you and Ms. Sinclair. Once the job is over, if you both consent—”
I didn’t think it was possible for my jaw to drop further, but he proved me wrong. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not cool. Hell no. Like, no. No, no, no, no, no—”
Roger sighed. “Goodbye, Ms. Sinclair. Mr. Pierce.”
Still stunned, I couldn’t do anything but follow Adam down the hall. He was calm. I was as tense as a turkey on Thanksgiving.
“Relax,” he said. “I know the rules. No asking you out until the job is done.”
My stomach flipped. “No asking me out ever.”
“Fine. You can ask me out.”
“If you’re planning on waiting, I’d take a seat.”
“Is there a specific position you’d like me in?”
“Sitting, like I just said.” I rolled my eyes. “Does that line ever work?”
“You’d be surprised.” He chuckled, his broad shoulders shaking.
Elizabeth raked her eyes over Adam’s body. She wasn’t being subtle, but he didn’t even cast her a glance as we walked past the lobby. Shame. If he’d gone to chat her up, I could’ve made my escape.
A heavy wind hit us the moment we stepped outside, nearly peeling off my jacket. I pulled it tighter around myself, frowning at the wrinkles that formed. And the blood seeping through.
“I know a good dry cleaner,” he said. “And a tailor. It’s a little big on you. Should eat more.”
“It’s not mine.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow. “Whose is it? Boyfriend?”
“It’s Symeon’s.” Why not? They knew each other. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“You’re very defensive.”
“You’re very annoying.”
“A for effort.”
“B for bye.”
“Wait.” He reached for me, and I jerked away. “We’ve never met. I would definitely remember you.”
I tried not to read into that. “No, we’ve never met.”
“So, why all the hostility? Yo
u’re wearing a three thousand dollar jacket, and that bra is designer, so I doubt you have a problem with my family’s wealth. And I can’t think of anything I’ve done to offend you. What did I do?”
I took a moment to recover from the knowledge that I’d stained a three thousand dollar jacket with vampire guts and sweat. “Maybe it’s your issues with personal space.”
As if on cue, his magic came back in waves. Soft, soothing waves, but it may as well have been a monsoon to my Fire. He stepped forward, and I backed away. It wasn’t his proximity I objected to — though it drove me up the wall that my stomach flip-flopped whenever he got close. It was his magic.
When he wore it like a cape, it was tolerable. But he wasn’t wearing it like a cape now. He wasn’t wearing it at all. It was spread out like a king-sized blanket. I wanted to simultaneously wrap it around my shoulders and hang myself with it.
“Seriously, you need to learn about personal space.”
His lips twitched. “I’d love to learn about your personal space.”
Sometimes I wished I could use my magic. Just to set people on fire. Actually, he’d probably like that.
“I’ve never felt magic like yours before.” He licked his lips. “It’s…delicious.”
Shit, shit, shit. No one had ever sensed my magic before. Then again I’d never met a mage as powerful as Adam before.
“It’s Symeon’s,” I said, heart threatening to rip from my chest. “Siren magic has that effect on people.”
“I know Symeon’s magic. This isn’t it.” He took another deep breath. “This is something else. Something exotic and absolutely intoxicating.”
“I run into a lot supernaturals in my line of work,” I said with a shrug. I wasn’t sure how casual it looked considering I was one word away from a heart attack. “Things rub off.”
“Sounds reasonable. I can’t blame things for wanting to rub off on you.” He pulled his magic back and walked toward me until we were face to chest. I pulled my magic into me as best I could and tilted my head all the way back to meet his gaze. “But that’s not what this is. It’s all you.”
I scoffed. “You’re delusional.”
“Maybe. But I’m never wrong.”
I rolled my eyes. “At least you’re humble.”