Magic Fire: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Shifting Magic Book 1)

by Catherine Vale

  “Better?”

  “I can still smell you from here,” I noted before heading to the driver’s side. At least he smelled better, though all that deodorant was certainly potent. “I wish you’d just let me enchant you.”

  “I thought Fairies couldn’t do magic.” He rolled his eyes and begrudgingly did up his seat belt when I wouldn’t take the car out of park until he did.

  “We can do magic. Just selective magic,” I insisted, backing out of the parking spot and heading for the road. “I guess we’re more like mages in that sense. A lot of our power comes from nature, and a lot of spells that don’t require intricate incantations usually revolve around manipulating the elements.”

  I was about to tell him I could summon a thunderstorm with enough concentration—and practice, as I hadn’t even attempted the spell in a good decade or so—but stopped short when he chuckled, his lips curving into that smirk I’ve come to know a little too well.

  “I always knew you were all little flowery hippies—”

  “I’m hardly flowery,” I snapped, mildly annoyed when he nodded vehemently in agreement. “And so what if I was? Would it be better if I was just some shifter? More brawn than brain?”

  “Hey.”

  “You started it,” I said, sharply. “We all have our stereotypes.”

  “Some are just worse than others,” he muttered before moving on to fiddle with the radio. “I mean, I’d rather be thought of as a flower child, than a moron.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Why did I always do this? I knew the whole supernatural vs. shifter thing was a touchy subject for him, yet I let myself toe the line between teasing and seriousness a little too easily. I squared my shoulders, determined to keep a lid on it for the future. The tension managed to lift, thankfully, when a driver in a beat-up pick-up truck zoomed by us, darting into the lane for oncoming traffic rather dramatically before whizzing in front of me—and then slowing down.

  I slammed on the horn and flipped him off, letting my New York mouth get the better of me. Darius thought the whole thing was hilarious, and soon enough we were throwing all our tiredness, our stiffness, our weariness, onto the asshole driver in front of us—and the guy, of course, remained in front of us until we turned off onto the barely visible dirt road behind the Aerath village sign.

  “Dick,” I grumbled, flipping the guy off one last time for good measure.

  “If only Abramelin could have seen you now,” Darius teased, still chuckling. “I’m sure he’d think twice about coming after you, that’s for sure.”

  I grinned. “If only.”

  My poor little hatchback only made it another ten minutes through the forest before the road stopped and we had to go on foot. With no village in sight, we packed up our things, me complaining under my breath about over packing my bag, and parked my car off to the side, and hopefully out of sight. I let Darius lead the way, though I took quick stock of the forest as we moved. Quiet. Peaceful. There was a sense of ease within the trees, like they knew they were safe. When the wind rustled through the canopy, the leaves seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly magic that I was only used to seeing in Alfheim. Birds twittered. Squirrels skittered along the branches. Darius’s foot caught on the occasional root, but otherwise we moved through the forest unhindered, picking our way through a path—perhaps to nowhere.

  Just as I let my mind start to wander, two figures came crashing through the underbrush. Darius swiped a hand behind his back, as if to keep me out of the way, and I rolled my eyes. Obviously, I wasn’t going to charge toward the pair of meatheads striding toward us. I wasn’t that oblivious to my own safety.

  “You are trespassing on private property,” the taller of the two barked. As far as I could tell, neither had any weapons on hand, despite wearing head-to-toe camo. Still, their fists were probably the best weapons at their disposal. I could feel the otherworldliness as they approached, noting that they were most definitely not human.

  “We’re looking for Aerath,” Darius told them, raising his hands slightly, in an effort to look like less of a threat. But if he really wanted to look less intimidating, his hands would have gone all the way up. As it were, he appeared more like he was trying to quiet two raging beasts, than anything else.

  “Turn around and head back the way you came,” the shorter man ordered. Shifters. I wasn’t sure how I knew exactly, but I could feel it much the same way I could tell a demon and a vampire apart at a distance. I trusted my gut.

  “Look, buddy—”

  “No, you look—”

  “Holy shit, Darius?”

  My eyebrows knitted together as the whole tone of the conversation shifted. All three men stopped, studying one another. Seconds later they were patting each other on the back like long lost friends.

  “Liam… Colton!” I’d never seen my dragon smile as wide as he did in that moment, and I couldn’t decide whether that pissed me off or not. “What the hell are you two doing out here?”

  “Working security,” Liam, the taller of the two, announced. Made total sense. Both guys certainly looked like they were built to protect something or someone. “The village hired us out a while back for the extra muscle. Figured it’d be good money.”

  Darius nudged him. “And is it?”

  Colton shrugged, scratching at his stubble-ridden square jaw. “Could be better.”

  I crossed my arms, and if I knew Darius could see it, I would have tapped my foot too just for good measure. As the bro-mance unfolded, and the trio continued back-slapping and joking around, I let out a series of pointed sighs and throat clears that finally got Darius’s attention.

  “Shit, right, sorry.” He gestured back to me, and I moved forward as if on cue. “This is Kaye. She’s my—”

  “Client?” Colton asked, cocking his head to the side as he inspected me a little too suggestively.

  “Friend,” I clarified. While I’d tried to keep the stiffness out of my voice, clearly I’d failed when the meatheads’ expressions faltered somewhat. “Darius and I are friends.”

  “Just like all of us are friends,” Darius insisted smoothly, his smile lightening the mood in an instant. “Liam and Colton are from a neighboring shifter clan… Ridgestone. I’ve known them my whole life. Don’t let them fool you, though. They look like grizzlies, but they’re more like teddy bears.”

  Forcing a half-smile, I moved past Darius and extended a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, both.”

  I’d lose my stiffness once they stopped looking at me like they wanted to lick me from top to bottom. Honestly. Were men so totally oblivious to how obvious they were about their attractions? Fairies were appealing to most supernaturals and shifters, that much I was aware, but it didn’t mean I enjoyed the attention by any means.

  Liam turned to Darius after shaking my hand, a smile playing on his lips. “I can’t believe it’s you, man. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you!”

  “Yeah, what the hell? Where’ve you been, and wait, what are you doing out here?” Colton asked. “Man, aren’t you supposed to be taking over for your Dad soon? Figured you’d need some Alpha crash course or something—”

  “We’re looking for Noris,” Darius interjected suddenly, and even though he’d interrupted Colton, I had heard the words perfectly clear.

  Alpha crash course.

  My eyes darted to Darius curiously. Was my dragon supposed to be an Alpha?

  It would certainly explain the personality quirks. Some of them, anyway.

  As the men carried on their discussion, answering Darius’s questions about Noris, I tried to listen but found myself sinking deeper and deeper into thought about what I’d heard. Alphas were a big deal in most magical communities. The title wasn’t always the same. After all, Abramelin was an “ArchMage” instead of an Alpha, but they basically did the same thing. Run the clan, or coven, or gathering, or herd, or whatever, and keep their people in order.

  So why wasn’t Darius doing that?

  It was a pretty hef
ty responsibility to abandon.

  Was it all because of losing his wings?

  I shook my head. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. I’d grill him later when he couldn’t steer the conversation elsewhere, or pretend to be so interested in what our two meathead security escorts were saying.

  Because apparently, we were on the move—and I’d been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed. Scampering after the trio, I gripped my backpack straps tighter and tried to keep up, all the while wondering what other secrets my dragon was hiding.

  Chapter Nine

  When Ravena initially told us to head northwest to find a magical village named Aerath, I wasn’t sure what to expect, honestly. As Darius and I had stomped through the woods, I’d started to envision wood huts in shambles. Tarps. Animal skins. It’d be like stepping back in time to something totally absurd. After all, if you wanted to live in a community of magic-inclined folks, it was just easier to create a settlement in Alfheim. At least there, you could practice your magic without restriction, free from the curious eyes of humans, and the limitations they wrought. So, to avoid detection, I’d just assumed the residents of Aerath would make the place look as decrepit as possible to encourage outsiders to keep on moving.

  You know. A shanty town where it looked like you’d be stabbed within thirty seconds of arrival. That kind of thing. Much to my surprise, that wasn’t the case. Not even a little. Sure, it still felt like we had gone back in time, but rather than going all the way back to the stone age, we were in a twentieth century English village in the countryside. Thatched rooftops. Stone walls—the kind that looked like someone placed each individual stone thoughtfully, and carefully. Cobblestone streets lay underfoot with gorgeous flower baskets in windows, and pristine awnings hanging in front of the entryways to the few small shops.

  I’d felt the magic as soon as we stepped out of the forest. It washed over us like a great rushing wave, and while Darius merely stumbled and glanced around, unaware of what had just touched him, I recognized it immediately. While Liam and Colton were around for added muscle, the village magic practitioners had encased everything in a protection ward. There were many kinds of wards. The ones we used for our fae sister gathering kept us invisible, blocking outsiders from hearing or seeing us. It was old fae magic, but fairly standard. This ward, on the other hand, didn’t hide the village, per se. Instead, it rushed over us like a giant scanner. The caster could set the terms, but should the ward detect something within any new arrival that was not permissible, it had the ability to punt us back out.

  In a quaint place like this, I figured creatures like Vampires, Demons, Gremlins, Trolls—you know, the underbelly of the supernatural community—were probably unwelcome. Fairies and shifters, meanwhile, passed through unhindered.

  “This is…” I bit my lip, carefully considering my words. While beautiful, the streets were empty, though I caught the flutter of curtains as we passed by the various thatched cottages. Someone must have tipped the inhabitants off that we were coming. Apparently, they didn’t get very many visitors. When I caught Darius glance back at me—and both bears half-turned heads—I cleared my throat and quickly said, “Charming.”

  “I’d go nuts in a place like this,” Darius muttered back, which made me smile. “I mean, what do you do as a kid here? It looks like a senior citizen’s paradise.”

  “I kind of get the feeling that mischief is more punishable when you live in a place surrounded by magic.”

  Kids couldn’t get away with egging people’s houses and spray-painting fences because all it would take was a quick spell and it’d be gone. My eyes swept over the pristine white window shutters, most still open, and sighed. Darius was right. Any kind in their right mind would go a little deranged here—unless we weren’t seeing the whole picture.

  And with an almost too perfect exterior, I had to wonder what was lurking behind the scenes. Places that try too hard to appear flawless, usually have something to hide.

  “You’ll find Noris in there,” Colton told us, gesturing with a nod of his head toward a cute little house on the top of a small hill. It had the greenest thatched roof—was that grass growing on top? — and a dark brown picket fence with flower baskets hanging, evenly spaced, around the whole thing.

  Just as we started walking up the path, a perfectly manicured lawn on either side of the rustic cobblestone walkway, the door swung open and a hobbled man in what looked like Christian monk’s garb stepped out. He blinked in the sunlight, thick glasses magnifying the fluttering of his eyes, then waved us forward with a frown.

  “Well, come on then,” he barked. “No need to dawdle. Business to attend to.” He peered around us as both Darius and I picked up our pace. “Thank you, boys, that’ll be all.”

  Colton and Liam waved goodbye to Darius before heading back toward the woods.

  “You must be Darius,” Noris remarked, appraising both of us with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun, “and you Kaye.”

  “Noris?” Darius held out a hand for the frail older mage to shake, which he did with some hesitancy. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. If Darius pressed hard enough, half his regular strength probably, he’d snap those long, slender fingers right in two.

  “The one and only,” the mage said with a cackle once Darius released him. “Come along. Ravena said you’d be here yesterday. You’re late.”

  We exchanged wary looks before following the hunched mage inside. The door closed on its own once we passed the threshold, and much to my embarrassment, I jumped a little at the loud thud it made.

  While the village had been picturesque and postcard worthy, Noris’s home stunk of incense, and the air was thick with smoke. But not smoke from cooking, or a fire. As I blinked hard and held a hand up under my nose, I noted that the smoke reflected different shades when it was caught in the sun, like a rainbow had filled the open concept kitchen/living room area. Old hardwood creaked beneath our feet as Noris told us to follow him, and the stench of potion work and old charms only grew more potent as we descended what appeared to be a dirt stairwell into a workshop in the basement.

  The mages I knew kept cleaner, less oppressive homes. Darius glanced back at me, face twisting from horror to disgust, to neutral in two seconds flat, and once again I had to hold back a giggle.

  “How did Ravena tell you we’d be coming?” Darius asked. Noris seemed to have forgotten we were even there; he’d scuttled ahead and busied himself at a thick wooden table littered with half-melted candles, textbooks, and incense ash. “As far as I recall, she shuns most technology.”

  “There are more ways to communicate than with your handheld electronics,” Noris admonished, flipping one of those huge textbooks open and running a finger down a page. “She told me you are being hunted by Abramelin.”

  “I am,” I said, shouldering my way in front of Darius before he could stop me. “He apparently sent a gargoyle to my apartment with an order to kill me, but I’ve never met him before. I don’t know why he’s after me, but Ravena says he’s powerful.”

  “Very,” Noris said, like it was the most obvious thing in the universe. “If he’s after you, my first suggestion is to run and hide, my dear. Run and hide as quickly as you can. If Abramelin is after you, you’re as good as dead.”

  I pursed my lips, trying not to stare at the shiny surface of his bald, age-speckled head. I couldn’t ignore the fact that my heart was beating wildly in my chest, and for a minute I felt like I may get sick from my stomach turning at the thought of being chased down by a maniac. Then I remembered… I’m not some pathetically weak opponent, and I wasn’t going to roll over and give up. Not for this fucking Warlock, not for anyone. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I refuse to live my life on the run just because some asshole—”

  “That asshole could crush you with a snap of his fingers,” Noris told me, though his tone suggested the statement was more matter-of-fact than anything. “He’s been on a rampage lately. Magical villages across the east coas
t have come under fire by him and his goons.” Noris sniffed distastefully and straightened, though the movement seemed to pain him slightly. “Many in the magical community are fleeing to Alfheim for sanctuary. I suggest you do the same.”

  “So was I just caught in the crosshairs of some supernatural rampage by a psychopath?” I asked, hazarding a look back at Darius. The shifter stood in an uncharacteristically stoic silence, his jaw clenched and eyes fixed on Noris’s grimoire. I shook my head and returned my gaze to Noris, frowning. “Why?”

  “People seem to think I have inside knowledge of Abramelin’s mind just because I trained him.” Noris flipped rather dramatically to another section of his mammoth book, skimming the words for a moment, mouth moving rapidly as he read. Speed reading. Probably photographic memory. So, he truly was a very powerful mage. The guy didn’t look like much, but he was probably the ace in the hole you’d want if you were ever backed into a corner. He glanced up with another sniff, then continued, as if the pause hadn’t happened. “Abramelin was once good and just. In his youth, he was curious and capable, a prized student. The best I could have asked for. But…”

  I watched his eyes grow distant as he stared right through me, and I cleared my throat. “But?”

  “There are rumors,” Noris said slowly, carefully, “that Abramelin’s family was killed. Butchered, if I’m to believe the gossip. Since then, he’s gone dark. Dangerous. Mad, possibly, as anyone might, under such horrible circumstances.”

  Losing your family didn’t give you the right to go on a murderous killing spree across innocent magical communities. I slid on my clinical hat once more, refusing to let my emotions get the better of me.