A Fistful of Fire: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Madison Fox, Illuminant Enforcer Book 2)

by Rebecca Chastain

  Though I’d more than earned a few days off—and Gavin had insisted I’d overworked my lux lucis and needed to rest it to fully recover—guilt had whispered in the back of my head the last two days. While I recouped, Margaret’s, Ron’s, and Liam’s enforcers worked overtime to clean up their regions, Isabel’s former region, and my region.

  No. I’d be back in action tomorrow, and it was foolish to think the neighboring experienced enforcers couldn’t handle the diminishing evil without me.

  Unless something new had cropped up.

  I answered the phone with a forceful flick and growled a hello.

  “Madison, how are you feeling?” my boss asked.

  “Fine, Brad.” Using his first name still felt foreign on my tongue, but I was getting used to it. I didn’t care if I sounded clipped, either. If he said I was needed right now, a few curt words would be the least of Brad’s problem.

  “Good. Gavin thought two days would be plenty of recovery time, but if you need more, let me know.”

  “Really?” My fingers relaxed around the phone.

  “You’re linked to a pooka, and we can’t afford for you to be vulnerable now. And speaking of the pooka, Rose told me about your arrangement for tonight. It should work out okay, but I expect a call from you as soon as the pooka’s back under your care. Until then, keep your phone near you; I’ll call you if he does anything that requires your attention.”

  “Ooo-kay?” Brad would be waiting by the phone until the end of my date? That was awkward, to say the least.

  “Also, in the . . . excitement, I forgot to mention your bonuses came through.”

  “My what?”

  It turned out there was no such thing as a pooka budget, but imprinting one qualified me for a hazard bonus. Combined with a belated bonus for taking out the demon, my checking account had an unheard-of five-figure balance. Not long ago, that would have made me feel secure for months, but between the necessary detailing of my car to get rid of ash stains and the smoke odor, feeding and clothing Jamie, replacing all the clothes I’d ruined, and paying down my credit card, part of me hoped I’d find myself in another perilous situation soon to augment my paychecks.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, remembering my manners now that I knew my date wasn’t on the line.

  “Fine. Gavin made a big deal out of nothing. He gets too excited when he gets to take one of us to the hospital.”

  I hadn’t gotten that impression from the ME, but rather than ruffle my boss’s pride, I changed the subject. “There’s one thing I haven’t been able to figure out: How did Isabel get the salamanders and turbonis and that wicked plant into the office at all?”

  “The element of surprise,” Brad said. “She struck with a blast of atrum first. I think she thought she’d scare Sharon.”

  I snorted at the idea of anything scaring Sharon, and Brad chuckled in agreement before continuing. “When Sharon ran to my office to warn me, Isabel threw the goat snare—the thing you call a ‘wicked plant’—across my office threshold. With us trapped, she was free to loose whatever sour ball taffy she wanted into our office. If Sharon hadn’t thrown herself on the goat snare, we both would have been trapped, and Isabel would have gotten away with everything.”

  It was easier to picture Sharon’s act of bravery than to envision the stoic receptionist running through the office. My respect for the woman increased, too; one spike through my palm had been agony, yet Sharon had knowingly embraced the pain of an entire plant’s thorns to let Brad escape.

  “Is she okay now?”

  “She was released from the hospital before me. Sharon’s made of tough stuff.”

  “Good. And Lestari? How’s she doing?” The prajurit queen’s losses weighed heavily on my mind and heart, and I wished there was something I could do for her.

  “She’s spending some time with a Grass Valley clan. They are the closest clan with whom Lestari doesn’t have a blood feud. Or a current blood feud, I should say.”

  Val had said the prajurit were territorial and usually only came together peacefully over a titan arum, but Grass Valley? That was over forty miles away.

  “Will she come back to our region?”

  “Maybe, unless she decides to usurp the ruler of the Grass Valley clan and take over up there.”

  I hoped she’d decide to return to our region. I liked Lestari, and I wanted a chance to work with more prajurit.

  When I hung up the phone, I checked the clock: I still had ten minutes before Alex was due. Returning to the bedroom, I checked my reflection in the full-length mirror. The orange and cream dress’s ruffled skirt fluttered when I walked, emphasizing my curves and exposing my legs to just above the knee. With its square neck and empire cut, it hinted at cleavage, which was a miracle in itself, and the colors in the dress offset my skin’s natural paleness. I’d left my hair down and loose, though I’d tweaked the ends to give them a bit of a curl. Makeup had never been my specialty, so I kept it simple, with concealer disguising the fading bruises on my throat, a hint of eyeshadow, pale lipstick, and dark mascara to enhance my eyes. I batted my eyelashes at myself. Objective achieved: I looked kissable.

  The soft murmur of a woman’s voice drifted from my closet where Val rested. It’d taken three hours to get him completely clean. Afterward, I’d left him in the sun on the balcony until his pages dried. He claimed to be fully recovered and ready for more action, but it had been his suggestion to sit out my date and listen to Robin McKinley’s Sunshine instead. Since I wasn’t going to wear his strap on my date, and he didn’t like being inside purses, it worked out for the best.

  A rhythmic knock at the door set my heart racing. I smoothed nervous fingers down my skirt and sprinted down the hall. Mr. Bond raced across the front room and sat to one side of the door. I halfheartedly shooed him back a few steps, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

  Dr. Love stood on the threshold. Alex, I reminded myself. He wore slim gray slacks and a long-sleeve blue button-up with a faint pinstripe. The shirt molded itself briefly to his chest when the breeze hit it, and my mouth went dry. He’d spiked his thick brown hair, and my fingers twitched to run through it.

  I returned Alex’s smile. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  He stepped inside, and I shut the door behind him, releasing my death grip on the doorknob.

  “You look amazing,” he said. His gaze started to slide down my body, then bounced back to my face. My entire body warmed with delight, especially when a faint blush stained his cheeks.

  “Thank you. So do you.”

  Mr. Bond head-butted Alex’s leg, then threw his body’s weight against him. Alex chuckled and bent over to pet my cat.

  “I see Mr. Bond is as sizable as ever.”

  I guiltily jerked my gaze from admiring Alex’s butt to his face. Fortunately, he was looking at Mr. Bond, not me. “Oh, yes. He’s still in need of a diet. And more attention. With my new job keeping me so busy, I haven’t had as much time for him as I’d like.”

  “So I’m not the only one,” Alex said, straightening, his eyes teasing.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Bond has suffered worse than you,” I flirted back.

  Alex looked around my apartment curiously while I rooted through a blank brain for an intelligent thought.

  “Have you given any more thought to the kitten? Sometimes having a companion can help relieve a cat’s boredom or loneliness.”

  “Actually, I can’t stop thinking about her,” I said. The tabby kitten had been curled up in the back of my thoughts since I’d visited Alex almost a week ago. She needed a home, Mr. Bond needed a companion, and Jamie wanted a pet of his own. I wasn’t sure it would work out that easily, though, which is why I hadn’t mentioned it to Jamie yet. “I think I fell in love when I was in your office.”

  I realized it sounded like I’d confessed my love for Alex, and my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth. Any attempt to backpedal would make me sound like a complete basket case. The words hung between us, h
eating my skin until I was sure I looked sunburned.

  Alex’s blue eyes shone with delight. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  His soft tease released me, and I stammered, “I . . . I didn’t know if Mr. Bond would approve. I don’t want to make his life worse.”

  “He seems pretty easygoing to me.” Alex suffered another head-butt and body rub from my twenty-two-pound cat. “Most cats do just fine if the newest addition to the family is younger.”

  “Sold. We’ll take her.” I couldn’t suppress a wriggle of anticipation. Maybe everything would work out as fantastically as I hoped.

  Alex rewarded me with a grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made my heart flutter.

  “You want to pick her up after dinner?”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Of course not.” Alex brushed hairs from his hands. I held out the lint roller, and he swiped his pants.

  Jamie was happy. Val was happy. I was leaving for a date with the sweet and sexy vet I’d had a crush on for the last three years; I was beyond happy. And now Mr. Bond would have a companion.

  “This is the best first date ever.” I’d meant to keep those words internal, and another blush crested my cheeks. Dear God, what was with me and handsome men?

  Rather than laugh off my words, Alex gave me a shy smile. “I agree.”

  Alex followed me down the stairs, and when we reached the sidewalk, he casually took my hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, pulling me close against the warmth of his body.

  “I’m really glad we can finally do this,” he said, his handsome face close to mine.

  “Me too.”

  My body tingled from head to toe as if touched by raw lux lucis. I blinked and checked our souls. Alex’s was white and gray, a normal human soul. Mine glistened with steady strength. The electric sizzle originated from a commonplace yet extraordinary source—pure joy singing through my veins.

  Whatever catastrophes my future held, whatever disasters Jamie’s dual nature orchestrated, whatever complications cropped up in my expanded region, I’d be ready to deal with them. Tomorrow. Tonight I had a date, and nothing was standing in my way.

  Thank you for purchasing A Fistful of Fire! If you enjoyed my novel, or even if you didn’t, please leave a review (Amazon). Reviews, good and bad, are crucial for any author’s career, and even a one- or two-line review is an enormous help.

  Thank you!

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  The third Madison Fox novel will be released in fall 2016.

  Until then, if you’d like to read another story written by Rebecca Chastain, try Magic of the Gargoyles.

  Magic of the Gargoyles

  An Elemental Fantasy Novella

  When a lone baby gargoyle insists Mika is the only person to be trusted with her urgent mission, the last thing Mika expects is to be swept into the gritty criminal underworld of Terra Haven.

  Flip ahead for a sneak peek of Magic of the Gargoyles,

  or buy it now on Amazon!

  Praise for Magic of the Gargoyles

  “I was absolutely blown away by MAGIC OF THE GARGOYLES and blown away by Rebecca Chastain. . . . . You cannot go wrong with MAGIC OF THE GARGOYLES if you’re looking for a quick fantasy read!” (Pretty Little Pages)

  “You will love this!” (Lovely Reads, 5 stars)

  “A cracking good story with a great premise and an intriguing world. . . . I enjoyed this novella immensely.” (Trawling the Amazon)

  Magic of the Gargoyles Excerpt

  1

  With one last twist of a filament of earth magic, I fused together the delicate seams of the quartz tube. Slumping forward, I braced my elbows on the table and rested my cheekbones on my palms, cupping my weary eyes in darkness. Six down, six finicky tubes to go. The specifications of this project taxed my substantial skills with quartz magic, which was the point. This project would launch my business and prove that even though I was only a mid-level earth elemental, my quartz skills were equal to or better than more powerful full-spectrum elementals. These fussy tubes would fund the down payment on the lease for the shop I coveted in the Pinnacle Pentagon Center. I could finally quit my demeaning job at Jones and Sons Quarry, be my own boss, and begin a career creating one-of-a-kind quartz masterpieces I could take pride in.

  My entire future rested on these fragile vials, and they were due tomorrow at four.

  Dull pain pounded my back muscles. Night had crept over the city while I worked, and my jerky movements as I stood and stretched were reflected in the semicircle of bay windows in front of my worktable. Purple smears of exhaustion beneath my green eyes were exaggerated in the dark windows, and my pale face floated above a dirt-smeared navy shirt. I checked the clock: almost midnight. Sixteen hours until my deadline, and eight of those would be taken up by my Jones and Sons workday. There was no time for a break. If anything, I needed to work faster.

  Groaning, I redid my ponytail, tucking shorter wisps of strawberry blond hair behind my ears before giving my hard wooden chair the stink eye. Mentally chanting Pinnacle Pentagon to motivate myself, I reached for another seed crystal.

  Frantic tapping shook the glass in the balcony door. I pulled the door open, knowing it was Kylie, my best friend and the tenant who shared my second-floor apartment balcony. “I really can’t talk. I need to finish—”

  “Help! Help! They’ve got—”

  Something small and hard slammed into my stomach. I staggered backward into my chair and crashed to the floor. A small boulder skipped across the wooden floor and smashed into the wall. I gaped at the open doorway, stunned.

  “You’re a human!”

  I shrieked. The voice came from inside my room. I twisted, scrambling onto my bed.

  Against the wall, the rock moved.

  Beautiful blue dumortierite quartz veined with green aventurine twisted into a winged panther no bigger than a house cat. A pissed-off, solid-stone, magical, winged house cat. A gargoyle—no, a baby gargoyle. A hatchling.

  Her eyes glowed feverishly. Long polished blue claws gouged into the floor when she launched into the air. Her agile stone wings unfolded with a soft gritty sound.

  I lurched backward across the bed until I pressed into the wall. The mattress shook when the hatchling pounced on the space I’d just vacated. Sharp claws bunched in my yellow bedspread. She raised her muzzle, mouth open, and sniffed the air.

  I eased toward the foot of the bed, readying my escape into the hallway.

  “It’s you! Your magic smells so good. I thought—”

  My magic has a smell?

  The gargoyle’s eyes darted to the open door, then back to me. She arched her stone back and hissed at me, the sound dying to a hair-raising growl. The tip of her stone tail slashed back and forth, gouging my wooden headboard.

  “I need help.”

  “My help?” Gargoyles—even baby gargoyles—didn’t interact with mid-level elementals like me, and they certainly didn’t ask for our help. “There’s a full-spectrum just—” I started to point up the street but froze when she snarled at me.

  “No other humans! Before it’s too late.” The gargoyle’s words were smooth coming out of her rock throat, with just a hint of a lisp from her tongue working around enormous teeth.

  I stared into her glowing blue eyes, seeing past the bared fangs and agitated movements, reading her fear for the first time. I reached for her, then pulled my hand back when she shied from me.

  “Too late for what?”

  “You can save him. Hurry!”

  “Save him? Save who? If someone is hurt, I can send for a healer.” Where were this gargoyle’s parents?


  “No. I need you.” Large blue eyes implored me. “Please!”

  A thousand reasons I should find someone else to help the gargoyle crowded my mind, but the hatchling’s urgency was contagious. Someone was injured. I didn’t want to waste time arguing with her, but was I really the best choice? I could work earth, but healing usually took someone talented with all five elements.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to get—” someone stronger? I started to ask, but she cut me off with another sharp “Please!”

  Gargoyles were creatures without guile, and this baby was obviously terrified for someone’s life. If she thought I could help, I had to try. I took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  The gargoyle whirled and launched for the open doorway, moving with the silent fluidity of a flesh-and-blood panther.

  “I’ll take the stairs,” I said. I snatched up my shoes and coat and raced to the door.

  My studio apartment was one of four on the upper floor of a converted Victorian house. At midnight, everyone else in the house was asleep, just the way my landlady Ms. Josephine Zuberrie liked it.

  As I sprinted down the stairs as quietly as possible, shoes in hand, I reviewed everything I knew about gargoyles. It wasn’t much. Gargoyles favored those strongest in magic—full-spectrum pentacle potential, or FSPP, elementals. When they chose, they could enhance a person’s magic, but I’d only heard of them doing so during large-scale rituals conducted by a full five of FSPPs. Despite being creatures of earth, they were not partial to any particular elemental magic; instead, they were attracted to a person’s strength of earth, wood, air, water, or fire magic.

  Which is why, as a mid-level earth elemental, this was the first time I’d spoken with a gargoyle.

  I eased the front door shut and dropped my shoes to the porch, wiggled my feet into them, and yanked the laces tight. When I spun around, the gargoyle dropped from the roof to the porch railing, almost clipping my head with a heavy rock wing. I swallowed a startled scream.