by Ashley Meira
“I’m a genius. It’s not arrogance if it’s true.”
“What’s scary is you actually believe that.”
“You don’t want to talk about your magic,” he accused. “Why is that?”
I pressed my sweaty palms against my thighs. “Nothing to talk about. I’m not a mage.”
“I don’t believe you. But if you don’t want to discuss it now, fine. Come on,” he said, gesturing toward the front of the parking lot. “Let’s get you home. We can get to know each other more after this job is done.”
I was relocating to Pluto after this job. But if it got him on my back, he could believe whatever he wanted.
Off. If it got him off my back.
As we walked, he raised his arms over his head in a languid stretch. Despite all his muscle, there was a grace to his movements. He was a fighter. One that hit fast and hard, never giving his opponent a chance to hit back.
Or maybe they didn’t hit back because they were too distracted by how tight his shirt was. Seriously, that thing bordered on obscene. I could’ve been blowing things out of proportion, but it was hard to stay objective with Mr. Sex-on-a-stick walking next to me.
“You’re staring again.”
I blinked a few times to clear my head. “I was thinking.”
“About me?” he said. “I’m flattered.”
“I didn’t say they were good thoughts.”
“The best thoughts are always a little bad,” he said with a wink.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing a suit?” Or a poncho. Anything that would cover him up.
“If that’s what you’re into—”
“No. Actually—” I cleared my throat. “You’re rich. And a member of one of the Council families. And a CEO. Shouldn’t you be wearing suits or those polo shirts with a sweater wrapped around your shoulders?”
“You just described the Corbin brothers.”
“Yeah, members of a Council family. What’s up with the brother thing, by the way? Half of the Council families have two sons.”
He stroked his chin. “A backup in case the first one turns out funny?”
I gave him an unimpressed look to cover my smile. “It’s a good thing you have a brother then.”
He laughed. It rumbled deep in his chest, a warm, rich sound. “It’s easier to move in jeans and a t-shirt than in a suit. And if I had to wear one of those polo combos, I’d probably strangle myself with the sweater.”
“What, not a fan of pastels?”
“My father used to make us wear those when we were little.” He shuddered. “Not fun.”
“Aw, did the other country club kids make fun of you?”
“No. They were dressed the same way. That’s what I don’t like about those getups. They’re more of a uniform than a fashion statement. Add pastels and it’s just pompous and show-offy.”
He stopped walking and fished a set of keys out of his pocket.
I raised a brow at the cherry red Ferrari he unlocked. “What was that? Something about pompous and show-offy?”
He gave me a sheepish look. “It’s my brother’s.”
Chapter Five
We fell into silence during the car ride. But I didn’t care. Letting out a content moan, I slid further into my seat. These seats were like butter. Pure, silky smooth butter. If it was legal, I’d propose marriage.
Adam’s deep voice pulled me out of my reverie. “Enjoying yourself?”
I turned to him. “Can I marry your car seat?”
He chuckled. “It’s not my car.”
“Why are you using your brother’s car?”
“I just moved here. Haven’t bought one yet.”
Shit. One Pierce in this city was bad enough. I definitely had to move. “You didn’t have a car before?”
“I didn’t want to have it flown over.”
“From?”
“Nice.”
“Nice, France?”
“You know another city with the same name?”
“I could.”
He looked at me expectantly.
“I don’t. But I could.” I wiggled around in my seat. “Heaven.”
“Never thought I’d be a jealous of a chair.”
“How dare you refer to this piece of paradise as a chair?”
“I’m a rebel,” he said. “So, leather’s what does it for you?”
“Depends,” I said, unable to help myself. Fireborns had terrible self-control. “Do you own anything leather?”
He grinned. “I could.”
I bit my lip before I could smile back. Bad Sophia. The sexy, yummy mage was not for you. My Fire twisted around. Apparently, it thought Adam was for me.
“So—” I tried to sit up, but the seat overpowered me “—tell me about the job. What was missing from Cyrus’ stash?”
He quirked a brow. “Thought you didn’t want to talk business until tomorrow?”
“We have nothing to talk about except business.”
“I could think of a few things.”
“Not in the mood for leather talk.” Please don’t say “I can get you in the mood.” Please don’t—
“Sure.” He nodded. “Leather is off the table.”
Guess he’s a little better than Jeffery.
“For now.”
Never mind. “The stolen item.”
He pulled a picture out of his pocket and handed it over. “It’s called the Heart of Gaia.”
The picture showed a brass sculpture of twisting vines encircling six large emeralds.
I squinted. “I guess it kind of looks like a heart.”
“It looks like the giant seaweed plants my Aunt Libby has in her pond.”
“Your aunt has a pond?”
He looked at me.
“What? I like the water.” I stared at the heart. Shame I couldn’t sense magic from a picture. “So, what’s the deal? Is it a family heirloom or something?”
“No, it was part of Damien’s Titan exhibit.”
“You want this back so you can sell it?”
“My brother wants it back,” he said. “But not to sell.”
“Does it match his new curtains?”
He chuckled. “No, he prefers red. He thinks adding green makes everything look too Christmas-y.”
“It does,” I said. “You have to save that stuff for the holidays. Otherwise, it loses impact.”
“Mercenary by day, treasure hunter by night, and interior decorator on the weekends?” His grin hadn’t lost its impact.
I looked out the window to avoid mooning over him. “What does Damien want with the Heart?”
“A colleague of his saw it at the exhibit and wants it for his collection. They worked out a trade.”
“Must be nice being rich enough to trade priceless artifacts like pokemon cards.”
“They’re collectors. They won’t allow the items to be damaged.”
“So, this is all for a trade?”
“It’s the principle of the matter. Cyrus stole from us,” he said with a serious expression. “Plus, they had an agreement. My brother hates losing face.”
Who didn’t? “Tell me more about the Heart.”
“I don’t know much. Ancient artifacts are more my brother’s thing. I wasn’t even around for the exhibit,” he said. “A couple of tourists in Egypt stumbled upon the ruins of a temple carved into a mountain. No one had ever noticed before, so the Council thought it might be magical.”
I stiffened at the word Council. “Was it?”
“Yeah. Demonic magic. And abandoned. Which is why the cloaking enchantments were fading away — no one was around to maintain them.”
I groaned. Demonic magic was all kinds of evil. Like the name suggested, only demons could use it. And demons were bad. Very bad. That’s why they didn’t often cross over to our world.
Possession, mass-murder, destruction…. Demons were feared even more than Fireborns. They were pure evil and wanted nothing more than to take over, or destroy, the world.
; Regular demons were okay. They slipped through the cracks and into our world every once in a while. There was chaos until people took them down, but they were rarely powerful enough to cause a ruckus. Those were grunts, foot soldiers. The scary demons were locked up tight in the lowest pits of Hell, because they could destroy the world.
“I’m assuming the Council put the enchantments back up?” I said.
“Their own, yes,” he said. “They didn’t want anyone touching the things inside. But Damien had been tracking the temple for a few months.”
I sat up. “You’re not about to out your brother as a demon worshipper, are you?”
The corners of his lips quirked up. “He was visiting our father this summer and found a map in one of his libraries. It traced the last path of the titans.”
“Gaia dies, and someone puts her heart in a demonic temple?”
“There are a few stories behind it. Damien’s favorite is the one where Gaia has her heart ripped from her chest by one of the demon’s worshippers…who happened to be her lover.”
“Really?” I said flatly. “That’s his favorite one?”
“It’s dramatic. Draws people in, which is the point.”
“How’d he convince the Council to let him retrieve it?”
Adam looked at me like I should’ve known. “He’s a Pierce.”
Of course.
“Are you free now?” he asked, parking across the street from my home.
“For?”
“Cyrus may have sold the Heart off, but he left the box behind. I’m hoping you can trace the magic off it.”
“What?” I needed to get out of here. Now. “I don’t—”
He pressed a finger to his lips. Mischief danced in his eyes. “And by magic, I mean your treasure hunting skills. Maybe you’ll find a clue.”
I pursed my lips. If he wanted the Heart enough to play along, I wouldn’t complain. But I couldn’t let my guard down for a second. “Sure. Just let me get changed.”
It took me a few tries to get the door open. When I did, I stumbled onto the sidewalk, wishing the cold air had any effect on me.
Chapter Six
“Wait here,” I said when I saw Adam exiting the car. “I won’t take long.”
I crossed the street, forcing myself to not look back. The ’4’ hanging on our red door was crooked, as usual, and I straightened it before stepping inside.
I made a beeline for my bedroom and shut the door, sliding down it with a sigh. My head hit the door as I sorted through my thoughts. Except there were no thoughts. There was only a speeding freight train careening through my mind.
A couple of hours ago, my biggest problem had been the destruction of my Camilla Krauss limited edition bra. Now, I had Adam freakin’ Pierce on my ass. I hit my head against the door again. Bad choice of words.
One call to his dad, and I was screwed. One hint of Fireborn magic, and I was screwed. My Fire flickered. Yeah, yeah. One dinner, and I was screwed. But that wasn’t what I meant.
I forced myself to remember he didn’t know anything. He thought I was a mage. Which would have been fine if he’d left it at that. Even if he told Roger, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Being a mage meant he’d need to pay me more. If I told him I didn’t want the attention, he wouldn’t force the issue. I wouldn’t be the first mercenary who didn’t want to talk about their past.
But Adam thought my magic was special. Special was bad. Special got attention. Attention landed people in jail. He was too interested in what I was, and I couldn’t think of an excuse to give him. The vampire gore meant I’d need a shower. Maybe that would help.
Five minutes later proved my theory right. And I had Symeon to thank. As I was taking off the jacket he’d given me, and lamenting over the damage, I realized something: he didn’t care what happened to his three thousand dollar jacket now that it was “last season.”
Adam was interested in me because I was new. He’d get bored soon, and I’d be last season too. Being defensive just fueled it. That’s why he was pushing so hard. Like how Jeffery became twice as interested in Fiona after she told him she’d rather have her brain removed through her nose than touch him. That was settled. Adam would get bored soon. I had nothing to worry about.
Shower done, I went back to my room and grabbed the first pair of jeans I saw and pulled them on. The nights were getting colder, so I grabbed a black sweater to go with it. I may not get cold, but I had to dress the part. It’d be pathetic to get arrested because I got caught wearing a bikini in winter.
My shirt was halfway on when I felt Adam’s magic walk through the front door. Must have forgotten to lock it. I grabbed my sword and hurried down the stairs.
“I thought I told you to wait—”
I stopped on the last step, and saw Fiona flirting with the current bane of my existence. I hadn’t even noticed her magic with Adam’s around. My gut clenched, but I ignored it. Fiona flirted with everyone. It was a fairy thing.
Adam smirked. “I think we have different definitions of the word ‘long.’”
“Oh, really?” Fiona’s green eyes danced with excitement. “And what long thing were you two discussing?”
“Don’t give him ideas.” But she’d given me ideas, and the smile she flashed told me she knew it. “How was the unicorn?”
Her smile dropped. “Look at me.”
I did, which made me smile. She was standing in our doorway with her t-shirt covered in grass stains, her ponytail stuck to her forehead, and the sides of her shorts ripped. Never piss off a unicorn. I double checked her leg to make sure the brand wasn’t visible. Fairies had the ability to cast glamours. Meaning that Fiona, unlike me, could hide the terrible reminder of our past. Terrible and obvious. The kind of obvious that made people ask questions.
“I hate tourists.” She glowered. “Don’t touch the unicorns. It’s not hard.”
“Is that a big tourist problem here?” Adam asked.
“Yes,” I said, still grinning at Fiona’s murderous look. “And they always send in someone who can shrink down.”
“Fewer fae can do that than you think,” he said.
“Yeah, we only have two in the Guild. One, now that Marlie got married and moved to Idaho,” Fiona muttered. “Bitch.”
I snorted.
She whipped her head toward me. “I know where you lay your head, Sinclair.”
“Does she have a string of her enemies’ heads hanging over her bed?” Adam grinned. “She seems like the type.”
“Keep it up, and I’ll hang you over my bed.”
His grin widened.
I groaned. ”Shut up. That’s not what I meant.”
“So she claims.” Fiona giggled. She was as fickle as a feather in a hurricane. I’d never seen anyone go from a frown to a smile so quickly.
“I know where you lay your head too.” I glared at her, but all she did was roll her eyes and pull me into the kitchen. “Don’t touch anything!” I warned Adam.
“Pretty sure the only thing he wants to touch is in here with me.” Fiona winked, shutting the door behind us. Before I could say anything, she started pounding at me with her fists. “You didn’t tell me you were dating Adam freakin’ Pierce!”
“Ow, ow, ow! Get off me, you rabid pixie!” I batted her hands away. “I’m not dating Adam Pierce. Did he tell you that? I’m going to kill him.”
She pulled me back before I could march into the living room and carry out my promise. “He didn’t say anything. I’m a fairy. I know—”
“These things,” I finished. “That was only comforting the first time we met.”
She stood in front of me and crossed her arms. As far as guards went, skinny redheads weren’t very intimidating. Then again, I knew exactly what Fiona was capable of. Especially when she wanted something. And there were few things Fiona wanted more than gossip.
“Dish.”
“He’s a client.”
Her brows shot up.
I smacked her arm. “From the Guild
. Get your head out of the gutter.”
“I wouldn’t if he was waiting for me outside. Did you see his Ferrari?” The smile left her face before coming back twice as strong. “Wait. Roger makes us go to the Guild to meet— Oh my gosh, you rode his Ferrari.”
“In. I rode in his Ferrari.” I sighed “It’s not even his. It’s his brother’s.”
“Damien?” Her eyes lit up. “Is he here too? Oh, do you think Adam could get us into Damien’s gallery?”
I crossed my arms. “Yeah, that’s what you’re after: art.”
“Rare art.”
“And it has nothing to do with how hot Damien is.”
She was bouncing in place, smile taking up half her face. “You do think he’s hot.”
“I’m not blind, Fiona. They’re both attractive.” Fiona had a look in her eyes I didn’t like. “What?”
“I was wondering where my copy of Witch Mode went. I lost it last week, remember?”
“Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “I also remember you finding it in your locker at the Guild a few days ago.”
“Adam’s in it too, you know.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“He’s shirtless. Just like his brother.”
“Only Damien was on the cover.” Okay, so I’d seen it. I had to. Fiona carried the damn thing almost everywhere. It was actually very concerning.
“There are more pictures inside,” she said. “I read the article they had. Did you know he and Adam volunteered to help build homes in Africa last year? There are the most amazing—” she paused to fan herself “—pictures of them shirtless in there. With hammers.”
“I know adding that is supposed to turn me on, but all it’s making me wonder is why mages need hammers.”
“They were with Habitat for Humanity. It’s a non-magical charity. Apparently, ‘plebeian’ methods really turn on the magical elite’s daughters. And some of their sons,” she added.
“Oh,” I said, trying not to picture Adam shirtless, “Regardless, I am not turned on by hammers.”
“Not even Adam’s hammer?”
“Fiona—”
“Do you think it’s—” she giggled “—piercing?”
I groaned as she burst into laughter. “I hate you.”