Enemy of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector Book 4)

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Enemy of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector Book 4) Page 18

by Linsey Hall


  “You know we’re in,” Mordaca said.

  “We can help, too,” Bree said.

  Ana nodded.

  My mother, who stood behind Bree, just smiled. I smiled back, knowing she’d be there for us. As would my father. Ares squeezed my hand.

  My heart thumped in my chest. Everyone here was in this together. Despite the danger and the risk, they’d be there when I needed them. And I was going to need them. What we were facing… It was bigger than all of us alone. It didn’t matter if I was ready to fight what was coming, because it was coming whether I was ready or not. We may have beaten Drakon today, but there was a bigger fight waiting on the horizon tomorrow.

  Epilogue

  The forest was quiet when I arrived at the outskirts of Elesius. With Drakon’s spell broken, I could now enter at will without slamming into a wall.

  I’d come alone, desperate to find the forest spirit who had helped me. The woods were quiet, as usual. Without life, there wasn’t much to make sound. Just the dead trees keeping vigil.

  “Hello?” I called.

  There was no response. I started walking, running my fingertips over the bark of the trees as I passed. The death in this place still made me cringe. I’d never get used to it.

  Jeff appeared next to me. He was still small, and he blew fire happily from his nose.

  “Not here!” I said. “This place is just kindling.”

  “That it is.” The voice came from behind me.

  I turned. The forest spirit stood there, looking just as she had before. Beautiful and serene, wearing the same long, white dress. I seriously doubted that her wardrobe was of much concern to her. She drifted toward me.

  Up close, the leaves that made up her hair looked delicate and fine.

  “You’re the ghost of this forest, aren’t you?” I asked.

  She inclined her head. “I am.”

  “But you weren’t always a ghost. You looked more solid in my dream.”

  “I’ve always been a spirit. But as the forest has died, I’ve faded.”

  “You mean, as I’ve sucked the life out of you.”

  She smiled. I should’ve felt malevolence coming from her, considering that I’d killed her. But I felt nothing of the sort. Just calm acceptance. “This was my fate.”

  “I don’t want it to be your fate. I don’t want Elesius to die because of me. I don’t want you to die because of me.” My heart twisted.

  Jeff blew fire, clearly disconcerted.

  There had to be something I could do. I had to try.

  I reached for her, slowing my hand as it neared her shoulder. She looked at me, brows raised. But she didn’t stop me, so I touched her shoulder.

  She felt dark—if it were possible for someone to feel that way, at least. I didn’t know what it was, precisely, but it sucked.

  I tried feeding some of my magic into her. It flowed slowly, in fits and starts.

  “Don’t!” She pushed me back. “You need your magic.”

  “It’s not finite.” I looked at Jeff. “Especially now that I have him. I’ll regenerate it.”

  “You need it.”

  “Let me just try to give you a little.” I reached out and touched Jeff. Warmth and power flowed into me. “See? He’s helping.” I had no idea the extent of the little dragon’s magic, but it was definitely helping.

  She frowned, studying us. Finally, she nodded.

  I touched her shoulder again, this time feeding her more of my power. Jeff helped, making it flow faster and fuller. Her cheeks began to glow. She smiled.

  Then she pulled back, panting. “That’s enough.”

  Around me, the trees trembled. My heart thudded. I braced myself.

  Tiny green shoots of grass poked up through the forest floor. They were sparse and thin, but they were definitely there.

  I gasped. “Do you see that?”

  The forest spirit stared with wide eyes. She looked up at me. “You are magnificent.”

  I blushed, then looked back at the grass. It waved in the slight breeze, a beautiful bright green. Hope flared in my chest. Elesius was coming back to life.

  ~~~

  Nix’s last book will be out in late September. If you haven’t had a chance to read Hidden Magic, the Dragon’s Gift series starter, you can get it for free by signing up for my newsletter.

  THANK YOU FOR READING!

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  Excerpt Of Hidden Magic

  (Told from the perspective of Cass Clereaux)

  Jungle, Southeast Asia

  Five years before the events in Demon Magic

  “How much are we being paid for this job again?” I asked as I glanced at the inhabitants filling the bar. It was a motley crowd of supernaturals, many of whom looked shifty as hell.

  “Not nearly enough.” Del frowned at the man across the bar, who was giving her his best sexy face. There was a lot of eyebrow movement happening. “Is he having a seizure?”

  “Looks like it.” Nix grinned. “Though I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting this. We’re basically in a tree, for magic’s sake. In the middle of the jungle! Where are all these dudes coming from?”

  “According to my info, there’s a mining operation near here. Though I’d say we’re more under a tree than in a tree.”

  “I’m with Cass,” Del said. “Under, not in.”

  “Fair enough.” Nix’s green eyes traveled around the room.

  We were deep in Southeast Asia, in a bar that had long ago been reclaimed by the jungle. A massive fig tree had grown over and around the ancient building, its huge roots encapsulating the stone walls. It was straight out of a fairy tale. Monks had once lived here, but a few supernaturals of indeterminate species had gotten ahold of it and turned it into a watering hole for the local supernaturals. We were meeting our local contact here, but he was late.

  “Hey, pretty lady.” A smarmy voice sounded from my left. “What are you?”

  I turned to face the guy who was giving me the up and down, his gaze roving from my tank top to my shorts. He wasn’t Clarence, our local contact. And if he meant “what kind of supernatural are you?” I sure as hell wouldn’t be answering.

  “Not interested is what I am,” I said.

  “Aww, that’s no way to treat a guy.” He grasped my hip, rubbing his thumb up and down.

  I gagged, then smacked his hand away, tempted to throat-punch him. It was a favorite move of mine, but I didn’t want to start a fight before Clarence got here. Didn’t want to piss off the boss and all. He liked it when jobs went smoothly.

  The man raised his hands. “Hey, hey. No need to get feisty. You three sisters?”

  I glanced doubtfully at Nix and Del, with their dark hair that was so different from my red. We might call ourselves sisters—deirfiúr in our native Irish—but this idiot didn’t know that. We were all about twenty years old, but we looked nothing alike.

  “Go away,” I said. I had no patience for dudes who touched me within a second of saying hello. “Run along and flirt with your hand, because that’s all the action you’ll be getting tonight.”

  His face turned a mottled red, and he raised a fist. His magic welled, the scent of rotten fruit overwhelming.

  He thought he was going to smack me? Or use his magic against me?

  I lashed out, punching him in the throat as I’d wanted to earlier. His eyes bulged and he gagged. I kneed him in the crotch, grinning when he keeled over.

  “Hey!” A burly man with a beard lunged for us, his buddy beside him following. “That’s no way—”

  “To treat a guy?” I finished for him as I kicked out at him. My tall, heavy boots collided with his chest, sending him flying backward. I might not use my mag
ic, but I sure as hell could fight.

  His friend raised his hand and sent a blast of wind at us. It threw me backward, sending me skidding across the floor.

  By the time I’d scrambled to my feet, a brawl had broken out in the bar. Fists flew left and right, with a bit of magic thrown in. Nothing bad enough to ruin the bar, like jets of flame, because no one wanted to destroy the only watering hole for a hundred miles, but enough that it lit up the air with varying magical signatures.

  Nix conjured a baseball bat and swung it at a guy who charged her, while Del teleported behind a man and smashed a chair over his head. I’d always been jealous of Del’s ability to sneak up on people like that.

  All in all, it was turning into a good evening. Watching a fight between supernaturals was fun.

  “Enough!” the bartender bellowed, right before I could throw myself back into the fray. “Or no more beer!”

  The bar settled down immediately. I glared at the jerk who’d started it. There was no way I’d take the blame, even though I’d thrown the first punch. He should have known better.

  The bartender gave me a look and I shrugged, hiking a thumb at the jerk who’d touched me. “He shoulda kept his hands to himself.”

  “Fair enough,” the bartender said.

  I nodded and turned to find Nix and Del. They’d grabbed our beers and were putting them on a table in the corner. I went to join them.

  We were a team. Sisters by choice, ever since we’d woken in a field at fifteen with no memories other than those that said we were FireSouls on the run from someone who had hurt us. Who was hunting us.

  Our biggest goal, even bigger than getting out from under our current boss’s thumb, was to save enough money to buy concealment charms that would hide us from the monster who hunted us. He was just a shadowy memory, but it was enough to keep us running.

  “Where is Clarence, anyway?” I pulled my damp tank top away from my sweaty skin. The jungle was damned hot. We couldn’t break into the temple until Clarence gave us the information we needed to get past the guard at the front. And we didn’t need to spend too much longer in this bar.

  Del glanced at her watch, her blue eyes flashing with annoyance. “He’s twenty minutes late. Old Man Bastard said he should be here at eight.”

  Old Man Bastard—OMB for short—was our boss. His name said it all. Del, Nix, and I were FireSouls, the most despised species of supernatural because we could steal other magical being’s powers if we killed them. We’d never done that, of course, but OMB didn’t care. He’d figured out our secret when we were too young to hide it effectively and had been blackmailing us to work for him ever since.

  It’d been four years of finding and stealing treasure on his behalf. Treasure hunting was our other talent, a gift from the dragon with whom legend said we shared a soul. No one had seen a dragon in centuries, so I wasn’t sure if the legend was even true, but dragons were covetous, so it made sense they had a knack for finding treasure.

  “What are we after again?” Nix asked.

  “A pair of obsidian daggers,” Del said. “Nice ones.”

  “And how much is this job worth?” Nix repeated my earlier question. Money was always on our minds. It was our only chance at buying our freedom, but OMB didn’t pay us enough for it to be feasible anytime soon. We kept meticulous track of our earnings and saved like misers anyway.

  “A thousand each.”

  “Damn, that’s pathetic.” I slouched back in my chair and stared up at the ceiling, too bummed about our crappy pay to even be impressed by the stonework and vines above my head.

  “Hey, pretty ladies.” The oily voice made my skin crawl. We could just not get a break in here. I looked up to see Clarence, our contact.

  Clarence was a tall man, slender as a vine, and had the slicked back hair and pencil-thin mustache of a 1940s movie star. Unfortunately, it didn’t work on him. Probably because his stare was like a lizard’s. He was more Gomez Addams than Clark Gable. I’d bet anything that he liked working for OMB.

  “Hey, Clarence,” I said. “Pull up a seat and tell us how to get into the temple.”

  Clarence slid into a chair, his movement eerily snakelike. I shivered and scooted my chair away, bumping into Del. The scent of her magic flared, a clean hit of fresh laundry, as she no doubt suppressed her instinct to transport away from Clarence. If I had her gift of teleportation, I’d have to repress it as well.

  “How about a drink first?” Clarence said.

  Del growled, but Nix interjected, her voice almost nice. She had the most self control out of the three of us. “No can do, Clarence. You know… Mr. Oribis”—her voice tripped on the name, probably because she wanted to call him OMB—“wants the daggers soon. Maybe next time, though.”

  “Next time.” Clarence shook his head like he didn’t believe her. He might be a snake, but he was a clever one. His chest puffed up a bit. “You know I’m the only one who knows how to get into the temple. How to get into any of the places in this jungle.”

  “And we’re so grateful you’re meeting with us. Mr. Oribis is so grateful.” Nix dug into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled envelope that contained Clarence’s pay. We’d counted it and found—unsurprisingly—that it was more than ours combined, even though all he had to do was chat with us for two minutes. I’d wanted to scream when I’d seen it.

  Clarence’s gaze snapped to the money. “All right, all right.”

  Apparently his need to be flattered went out the window when cash was in front of his face. Couldn’t blame him, though. I was the same way.

  “So, what are we up against?” I asked.

  The temple containing the daggers had been built by supernaturals over a thousand years ago. Like other temples of its kind, it was magically protected. Clarence’s intel would save us a ton of time and damage to the temple if we could get around the enchantments rather than breaking through them.

  “Dvarapala. A big one.”

  “A gatekeeper?” I’d seen one of the giant, stone monster statues at another temple before.

  “Yep.” He nodded slowly. “Impossible to get through. The temple’s as big as the Titanic—hidden from humans, of course—but no one’s been inside in centuries, they say.”

  Hidden from humans was a given. They had no idea supernaturals existed, and we wanted to keep it that way.

  “So how’d you figure out the way in?” Del asked. “And why haven’t you gone in? Bet there’s lots of stuff you could fence in there. Temples are usually full of treasure.”

  “A bit of pertinent research told me how to get in. And I’d rather sell the entrance information and save my hide. It won’t be easy to get past the booby traps in there.”

  Hide? Snakeskin, more like. Though he had a point. I didn’t think he’d last long trying to get through a temple on his own.

  “So? Spill it,” I said, anxious to get going.

  He leaned in, and the overpowering scent of cologne and sweat hit me. I grimaced, held my breath, then leaned forward to hear his whispers.

  ***

  As soon as Clarence walked away, the communications charms around my neck vibrated. I jumped, then groaned. Only one person had access to this charm.

  I shoved the small package Clarence had given me into my short’s pocket and pressed my fingertips to the comms charm, igniting its magic.

  “Hello, Mr. Oribis.” I swallowed my bile at having to be polite.

  “Girls,” he grumbled.

  Nix made a gagging face. We hated when he called us girls.

  “Change of plans. You need to go to the temple tonight.”

  “What? But it’s dark. We’re going tomorrow.” He never changed the plans on us. This was weird.

  “I need the daggers sooner. Go tonight.”

  My mind raced. “The jungle is more dangerous in the dark. We’ll do it if you pay us more.”

  “Twice the usual,” Del said.

  A tinny laugh echoed from the charm. “Pay you more? You’re lucky
I pay you at all.”

  I gritted my teeth and said, “But we’ve been working for you for four years without a raise.”

  “And you’ll be working for me for four more years. And four after that. And four after that.” Annoyance lurked in his tone. So did his low opinion of us.

  Del’s and Nix’s brows crinkled in distress. We’d always suspected that OMB wasn’t planning to let us buy our freedom, but he’d dangled that carrot in front of us. What he’d just said made that seem like a big fat lie, though. One we could add to the many others he’d told us.

  An urge to rebel, to stand up to the bully who controlled our lives, seethed in my chest.

  “No,” I said. “You treat us like crap, and I’m sick of it. Pay us fairly.”

  “I treat you like crap, as you so eloquently put it, because that is exactly what you are. FireSouls.” He spit the last word, imbuing it with so much venom I thought it might poison me.

  I flinched, frantically glancing around to see if anyone in the bar had heard what he’d called us. Fortunately, they were all distracted. That didn’t stop my heart from thundering in my ears as rage replaced the fear. I opened my mouth to shout at him, but snapped it shut. I was too afraid of pissing him off.

  “Get it by dawn,” he barked. “Or I’m turning one of you in to the Order of the Magica. Prison will be the least of your worries. They might just execute you.”

  I gasped. “You wouldn’t.” Our government hunted and imprisoned—or destroyed—FireSouls.

  “Oh, I would. And I’d enjoy it. The three of you have been more trouble than you’re worth. You’re getting cocky, thinking you have a say in things like this. Get the daggers by dawn, or one of you ends up in the hands of the Order.”

  My skin chilled, and the floor felt like it had dropped out from under me. He was serious.

  “Fine.” I bit off the end of the word, barely keeping my voice from shaking. “We’ll do it tonight. Del will transport them to you as soon as we have them.”

  “Excellent.” Satisfaction rang in his tone, and my skin crawled. “Don’t disappoint me, or you know what will happen.”

  The magic in the charm died. He’d broken the connection.

  I collapsed back against the chair. In times like these, I wished I had it in me to kill. Sure, I offed demons when they came at me on our jobs, but that was easy because they didn’t actually die. Killing their earthly bodies just sent them back to their hell.

 

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