Kissed by Smoke

by Shéa MacLeod

  My grip loosened slightly and the sidhe I was holding gulped in air. Still I didn’t let it go. I turned my head toward the sidhe Kabita still held at bay with her blade. “Why?”

  “We were sent by our Queen to find you. She will be … displeased that one of your friends was harmed in the process.”

  Weirder and weirder. “What does the Fairy Queen want with me?”

  “She has a gift for you, in honor of your birthday.”

  Oh, crap. Accepting gifts from the Queen of the Sidhe was never a good idea. “That’s, okay, thanks. I don’t need any more gifts.”

  The second sidhe’s face shifted from an almost pixie-like incarnation into that of a gorgeous man, a feral grin stretched across his face. “Oh, but she insists.” He held out his hand, palm up. A small, blue box appeared.

  Kabita raised a brow as she stared over his shoulder at the box. “The Queen is giving Morgan presents from Tiffany’s?”

  The sidhe smirked, but said nothing.

  I glanced at his fellow sidhe. The one whose windpipe I was still crushing. “I’m going to let you go. The minute I do, you had better vanish from this plane. Permanently. Got it?”

  He nodded, so I let go. The minute I did, he shimmered out of existence. I wondered if the Queen really would kick his ass for messing with Cordy. I sure wouldn’t want to be him if she did. She wasn’t exactly known for being loving and merciful.

  I turned to the remaining sidhe and that damned blue box in its hand. “No offence to Her Majesty, but … ”

  His features hardened and his voice turned sibilant. “You will accept this gift from my Queen, Morgan Bailey, or you will suffer the consequences. My Queen does not take such slights lightly.”

  Crap, crap, double crap. That’s all I needed: A pissing match with the Fairy Queen.

  “Fine,” I snarled as I strode across the floor and snatched the box out of his hand. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  He smirked. “None at all. Now may I go?”

  I sighed and nodded. Kabita lifted her blade and the sidhe flashed out of sight.

  I stared at the little blue box in my hand. Shit, this wasn’t going to be good. Fairy gifts always came with strings. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the kinds of strings attached to a gift from the Queen of Fairies herself.

  The thought was horrifying.

  ***

  “Open it.”

  I glared at Kabita. “You know the minute I open this box, I owe a debt to the Queen of freaking Fairy, right?”

  She shrugged. “You don’t open it, and you’ll be at war with the Queen of Fairy. Either way you’re screwed.”

  “Gee, thanks for pointing out the obvious.” I carefully placed the box on the bar. Might as well be a scorpion. I so did not want to open that box.

  Inigo reached over and squeezed my hand. “Sorry, Morgan.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said with a slight shrug. “I don’t suppose you can sense anything?”

  “Not when fairies are involved.”

  Sidhe magic put his clairvoyance out of whack. Just great.

  My fingers trembled just a bit as I carefully lifted the lid off the box. Inside, nestled against a bed of black velvet, was a tiny gold key. I admit to being ever so slightly confused. Why on earth was the Fairy Queen giving me a key?

  “There’s a note.” Inigo nodded toward the lid.

  Sure enough, tucked into the lid of the box was a bit of creamy vellum. I dreaded to think what kind of creature had “donated” their skin for that vellum. I really hoped it wasn’t human, because that would totally creep me out.

  I pulled the vellum out of the lid and carefully unfolded it. Across the page was written a single sentence in a flowing hand:

  This will save your life.

  Freaking fantastic.

  Chapter Four

  I felt better once I was buckled into my Mustang. Surrounded by all that metal, there was no way a sidhe could get anywhere near me. Unlike other metals, iron would neutralize sidhe magic, possibly even to the point of killing the sidhe, but steel still left a nasty mark.

  “You okay?” Concern flashed in Inigo’s blue eyes. I could see little flecks of gold dancing in his irises. The Dragon half of him was close to the surface.

  I snorted. “Yeah, fabulous. I am now indebted to the Fairy Queen all because of some stupid key. Happy birthday to me.”

  “Yeah, she kind of stole my thunder.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  He pulled a small box from inside his jacket and placed it in my hand. It wasn’t Tiffany’s blue, but my heart still stuttered to a stop before suddenly kicking into overdrive.

  “Uh, what’s this?” I glared at the box like it might bite me. I really hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was.

  “Open it.”

  “Listen, Inigo … ”

  “Open it.”

  I opened it. What I saw took my breath away.

  It was a ring, but not some stupid diamond engagement one, thank the gods. Strands of intricately wrought silver twisted and turned, the Celtic knots forming a perfect Dragon.

  “It’s beautiful.” I could hardly breathe. Terror and excitement warred inside me. Did this mean Inigo wanted some kind of commitment? I’d never done well with commitment. Or rather, it had never done well with me. It seemed that every time I gave my heart, it got stomped to pieces and thrown back in my face. Kind of made me a bit skittish.

  He took the ring from the box and slid it onto my finger. My right middle finger. Suddenly I could breathe easier.

  “I thought it suited you,” he smiled. “And I figured as long as you wore it you’d never forget me.”

  I laughed at that. Inigo was probably the least forgettable person I’d ever met.

  “Happy birthday, Morgan.” His lips were warm and tasted of chocolate and campfires. One of my favorite things about him being dragon.

  He drew back and gave me a slightly lecherous wink. “Take me home with you and I’ll give you the rest of your present.”

  I grinned and fired up the engine. I’m pretty sure I broke every speed zone in the city.

  ***

  The next morning saw us hitting Highway 26 headed toward Warm Springs. The town was a little over an hour away, and I wanted to get there in plenty of time.

  Halfway up the mountain I had to stop and put chains on the tires. The snow plows had been through, but it was still the law. One good thing about having a boyfriend who was half dragon: He could bench press a Mustang. Inigo had the chains on in a fraction of the time it would have taken me.

  The highway twisted itself up around Mt. Hood, through a forest of fir trees and frozen creeks until it finally spilled out onto the high desert. We were on tribal lands. Excitement thrummed in my veins. Ever since I was a kid I’d been fascinated by the rich culture of the Native American people, especially the Oregon tribes.

  Might have had something to do with my uncle having been a cop on the Reservation. Or maybe it was just my own interest in history.

  My phone jangled, jarring me back to the present. Which was probably a good thing, seeing as how I was driving. “Who is it?”

  Inigo snagged my phone out of the cupholder where I’d stashed it and glanced at the screen. “Jack.”

  “Crap.” I searched Inigo’s face for any hint of jealousy, but there was none. I guess 400 years gave a person some perspective.

  I pulled the Mustang to the side of the road and hit the call button. No doubt Inigo would be able to hear the entire conversation anyway, but holding the cell to my ear made me at least feel like I had some privacy. “What do you want, Jack? I’m wearing the amulet.”

  “I just spoke to Kabita. She said you’re headed to Warm Springs?”

  “Yeah. So?” I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. I was doing way too much of that lately.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “You’re my Guardian, Jack, not my Dad.”

  “Yes, I’m yo
ur Guardian,” his voice turned testy. “You should remember that more often. As your Guardian I’m telling you not to go to Warm Springs.”

  I did roll my eyes then. “Oh, for crying out loud.”

  “It’s not safe, Morgan. What you find there will put your life in danger. You need to turn around and come back to Portland.”

  Like anything in my life was safe these days. “Get a grip, Jack. I’m meeting my brother. I’ve got a job to do.” With that, I hung up the phone.

  Inigo raised an eyebrow. “What’s his problem?”

  I shrugged. “He’s being his usual overprotective self. You’d think I was some kind of helpless twit.”

  He laughed. “You are a lot of things, Morgan, but a helpless twit isn’t one of them. Jack knows that.”

  “Well, he sure doesn’t act like it.” I managed to keep the snarl out of my voice. Just. “He kept going on about how it wasn’t safe. That whatever I find in Warm Springs is going to put me in danger. Ridiculous.” Besides, it wasn’t like my life was exactly safe in the best of times.

  Inigo frowned. “Did he say why?”

  I shook my head. “Are you getting some kind of vibe or something?”

  “No, but Jack’s not exactly the overly emotional type. If he says something is dangerous, there’s likely a good reason for it.”

  “Fine, take his side,” I grumped as I pulled the car back onto the highway.

  “I’m not taking his side.” There was laughter in Inigo’s voice. “It’s just not a bad idea to exercise a little caution.”

  “I’m full of caution.”

  This time the laughter was full blown.

  ***

  We arrived at the cafe a good hour before the meeting time, which was fine with me. Thanks to my worry about the meeting with Trevor and my hurry to get to the cafe, I’d missed lunch. My stomach was letting me know about it.

  “Come on. I’m hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry.” Inigo smirked at me, but followed me into the cafe.

  Warm Springs Cafe was a dinky little hole in the wall. I’d never been there before, but in my experience, such places survive because the food is cheap and damn good. I figured this place was no exception.

  I was right.

  The waitress brought us plates piled high with food. I dug into my pancakes with gusto. They were divine.

  “I can’t believe you’re eating pancakes.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I managed to mumble around a mouthful of syrupy goodness.

  “It’s lunchtime.”

  “So? Pancakes are not a breakfast food, they’re an anytime food.”

  He shook his head and bit into his corned beef sandwich. I had to admit his lunch looked really good, but I was happy with my pancakes.

  “Morgan.”

  I froze, a forkful of pancake halfway to my mouth. “Trevor? You okay?” He looked rough. There were dark circles under his chocolate brown eyes and his usually warm latte skin was almost ashen.

  He slid into the booth beside me. “I’m fine. You got my text?”

  “Of course. That’s why I’m here. Though I’m not sure why all the mysteriousness. You didn’t think to, I don’t know, pick up a phone and call me like a normal person?”

  He glanced around as though to make sure no one else was listening, then beckoned us both to lean in closer. He was clearly nervous, which was weird. I hadn’t known my half-brother long, but Trevor Daly had nerves of steel from what I’d seen. It was sort of par-for-the-course for federal agents.

  “This is strictly on the down low. I’ve been ordered to keep things under the radar. No one can know we’re working on this.”

  “On what, exactly?” I took another bite of pancake. I didn’t know who the cook was, but he or she deserved a gold medal. The pancakes were seriously to die for.

  “Two days ago an agent named Daniel Vega was found dead in his hotel room, in Madras.” His voice was hardly above a whisper. Fortunately both Inigo and I had excellent hearing.

  “Madras as in the little town just down the road?” Inigo asked.

  “Yeah, that Madras.” Trevor gave the waitress a charming smile as she brought him a cup of coffee. The woman was twice his age, but I swear she blushed like a teenager.

  I waited until the waitress left before asking the question burning in my brain. “What on earth was an SRA agent doing in Madras?”

  The Supernatural Regulatory Agency kept itself well hidden within the Environmental Protection Agency. They had limited manpower and weren’t in the habit of sending agents to Podunk towns like Madras. That’s why they kept people like me around. We got to do the dirty work, and they didn’t have the expense of sending an agent.

  “That’s the thing.” Trevor leaned in closer. “I don’t know. He wasn’t there on official business and he doesn’t have any friends or family nearby.”

  Weird. But not that weird. People visited places for all kinds of reasons. “Okay, so how did he die?”

  “The police are claiming it was suicide.”

  Inigo and I exchanged a look. “Ah. You don’t think it was.” I kept my eyes on my brother’s face. I could see his jaw working.

  “I know it wasn’t suicide. I just can’t prove it.”

  “I get that he’s a brother-in-arms and all that, but why don’t you let the agency handle this?” I suggested. “He’s their agent. What’s this got to do with you?”

  Trevor’s face hardened. “Daniel was my friend. I’m not about to let them sweep his murder under the rug.”

  “Whoa,” Inigo spoke up. “What do you mean? Are you suggesting the SRA wouldn’t thoroughly investigate the death of one of their agents?”

  Trevor’s expression was bleak. “I’m afraid so. They want this kept very quiet. So, they’re willing to let me investigate as long as I don’t make any waves.”

  “You’re sure?” I hoped he was wrong. I really did. I didn’t like the idea that the agency wouldn’t come in guns blazing to solve Vega’s murder, but then again, I should know better. Like I said, the SRA didn’t like dirtying its hands.

  He shrugged. “Sure as I can be. That’s why I need your help, Morgan. There’s something really weird going on and the agency is keeping quiet about it.”

  I was getting a really bad feeling. “Weird? What kind of weird.”

  “Your kind of weird,” Trevor said.

  Which meant supernatural wonkiness of the scary kind. “I still don’t get why you couldn’t pick up a freaking phone and call me like a normal person. I mean, if the agency is willing to let you investigate quietly, what’s the big deal? You could have just asked to meet me over the phone.”

  He shook his head. “There’s something really strange going on. I don’t know who I can trust and who I can’t. Face-to-face was the safest way.” He gave me a knowing look. “And you can’t talk back to a text.”

  He knew me far too well.

  “I need your help Morgan. Please. I need to know the truth. I owe Daniel that much.”

  Six months ago I hadn’t even known Trevor Daly existed. Now he was begging me for favors that could get me thrown down a deep dark hole of nasty. But he was my brother. I couldn’t say no.

  I sighed. I had no idea what I was about to get myself involved in, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t anything good. Freaking fantastic. “Show me the crime scene.”

  Chapter Five

  Madras was a short drive up the canyon from Warm Springs. It was the closest major town near the Reservation. And by “major” I mean about six thousand people, give or take. I loved that this tiny little down in the middle of nowhere had been named after the exotic Indian city. Who knew they were so cosmopolitan back in 1903?

  I loved the early twentieth-century buildings that lined the main street downtown. It gave the town atmosphere. Still, the fact was, it was a nowhere town. What on earth had Daniel Vega been doing here?

  It wasn’t like Madras was a hot bed of supernatural activity. I’d have known if it was.

&n
bsp; We followed Trevor’s car to a small run-down motel on the other side of town. He pulled into the gravel parking lot and stopped in front of the door marked with a rusted number five.

  “You’d think they’d pay their agents better,” Inigo said with a nod toward the peeling paint and dirty windows. “There’s not much to choose from in this town, but there are better hotels, all of them cheap. Why choose the crummiest motel? This is barely a step above a pay-by-hour.”

  “No idea, but I’m probably going to get cooties just from looking at it.” I shuddered.

  That made him laugh. His eyes crinkled a little at the corners and a dimple flashed in his cheek. I loved when he laughed. It was so ridiculously sexy.

  He leaned over and brushed his lips over mine.

  “What was that for?” Not that I was complaining, mind you.

  He smiled. “You had that look.”

  “What look?”

  “That gooey look that says you adore me.” He winked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Arrogant prat.”

  There was a rap on the window. “Are you two coming? Or are you just going to sit in there and make out?” Trevor was obviously getting antsy.

  “We’re coming. We’re coming. Sheez. Hold your horses.”

  The inside of Daniel Vega’s hotel room wasn’t any better than the outside. The carpet was worn down to the nub and I really didn’t want to think about the stains on the bedspread.

  “Where did they find him?” Inigo asked.

  “In the bathroom. They said he’d slit his wrists.”

  I peered into the tiny bathroom. Odd place to slit your wrists. There was no tub, just a rather dirty shower stall. There wasn’t even enough room on the floor to lie down.

  “Why would he slit his wrists in here? Why not on the bed?” I frowned and glanced back at the bed. Not that it was a better place to die. “Why slit his wrists at all? Was there a note?”

  “No note.” Trevor shook his head. “And they’d cleaned up before I got here. I did see the crime photos and they didn’t look quite right.”

  I glanced at him. “What do you mean?”