Black Market (Black Records Book 2)

by Mark Feenstra

  “Those images are probably a few years old,” said Chase. “You can check street view, but it’s just those huge bushes and a wrought-iron gate.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell us about these, uh, nymphs?” I asked Viktor.

  “Very little of consequence. My network tends to only concern themselves insofar as magic is concerned, and the bulk of the complaints have come from fae living in the vicinity of that house. By all accounts, they throw rather large and wild parties several nights a week. This alone wouldn’t be enough to irritate the local fae, but the frequent and frivolous spell casting has caused some upset.”

  I looked at the satellite image again before passing Chase’s phone back to him. Big house. Quiet dead-end street. Wild magic. It was a scene I was familiar enough with. Learning that you have the ability to wield magic can cause one hell of a god complex. Chuck a healthy dose of teenage hormones into the mix, remove all adult supervision, and you’ve got a recipe for chaos. If the kids we’d seen at the nexus had figured out the relatively simple wards that would limit sound from escaping past the edge of the property, they could do practically anything in there without anyone being the wiser. Even a crappy glamour can pass the scrutiny of a liquor store employee checking ID, and these days it was all about party drugs anyways. Once word got out parties of that scale were going off on a regular basis, plenty of kids would start showing up, completely unaware of the supernatural forces stripping away their inhibitions.

  “I guess it’s my turn to go undercover,” I said. “I’ll go to the house tonight and see if there’s a party I can get into. Once inside, I’ll see if I can learn anything about who’s been annoying the local fae.”

  “Aren’t you, like, a decade too old to be going undercover at a party with a bunch of teenagers?” asked Chase.

  I rolled my eyes and did my best impression of an angsty teen who couldn’t even.

  “Fair enough. I guess you do kind of look like a sixteen-year-old most of the time.”

  Viktor leaned forward to grab another cookie. He bit it in half, not seeming to care or notice the crumbs that rained down on his sweater as he sat back and observed us.

  “You both look like children to me,” he finally said with a shrug.

  “So you don’t see any problems with Alex going into this party alone?” Chase asked Viktor.

  “I trust that she can take care of herself when she needs to.” He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “More to the point, there’s little use in trying to talk sense into her when you fear she may be acting without enough regard for her own safety. Alex is someone who prefers to learn lessons the hard way.”

  “I feel like this is where I’m supposed to defend myself, but he’s not wrong,” I told Chase. “Besides, it’s worked for me so far, hasn’t it?”

  “That’s the bit that bothers me,” said Chase. “Your luck’s bound to run up eventually.”

  “We should get a move on,” I said. I pointed to the enchanted knife still sitting on the table. “Mind if we leave this here? I don’t exactly feel safe storing at our place given how dangerous it is.”

  “Leave the knife with me,” Viktor said. “I’ll find an appropriate place for it.”

  With nothing more to ask of our host, I stood and snatched two more oatmeal cookies from the tray. Mumbling around a half-chewed mouthful, I thanked Viktor for his help and headed for the door.

  “Is it just me, or was Viktor acting super weird in there?” Chase asked when we were back in the car.

  “Definitely not you. Somethings up with him, and I don’t think it’s good.” I chewed my lip a minute then reluctantly addressed the thing that had been bugging me since Viktor brought it up. “I’m worried he’s in some kind of trouble for what he did to help us by going to Scotland in search of that grimoire. He never leaves his house, let alone the country. Hell, he used magic to heal you after you were almost turned into a vampire. Until that moment, I’d have told you he didn’t have an ounce of magic ability in his body. What I saw that night was big, Chase. Viktor’s no amateur. He uses his power in front of me after all these years, and now a few months later he’s gone senile?”

  Chase started the car and pulled away from the curb. “Doesn’t exactly add up, does it?”

  I shook my head. “Sure doesn’t. I don’t know how to help him though. He’s obviously trying to keep us out of whatever trouble he’s in.”

  “Speaking of trouble,” Chase said. “If those kids from the nexus are really at this house, are you sure you’ll be safe on your own? Couldn’t you ask Karyn to back you up?”

  “Eager to see more of her, are we?”

  Whether his face flushed red with anger or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.

  “It’s just a party,” I continued. “I’ll go in, pretend to drink a beer, and see what I can learn about these guys. They’re not mages, and if they’re using nexuses to draw power in such a messy fashion, I can’t imagine they’re even particularly talented warlocks. I’ve got more than a few tricks up my sleeve if I need to get out of there in a hurry.”

  “Is there anything I can say to make you consider doing remote surveillance for a couple of days before we go snooping around the home base of a gang of warlocks who seem to have watched The Fast and the Furious about ten too many times?”

  I pursed my lips and tried to think of a nice way of telling him I didn’t have the patience to screw around with zoom lenses and infrared drones or whatever gadgets he had in mind. The easiest thing would be for me to go in and scope the place out in person. There were things I could only sense in person, and no amount of remote surveillance was going to tell me what thirty seconds of personal investigation would reveal.

  “Fine.” Chase muttered. “It’s your name on our business cards. We’ll do it your way if that’s what you think is best.”

  “Wait, we have business cards?”

  “It’s just an expression.”

  The conversation shifted gears into discussing what we’d do with the money we were going to get once Mr. Trang paid us for identifying his thieves. I mentioned my desire for a kitchen overhaul, but Chase launched into a plan to reinvest it into the business. While he rambled on about fortifying the house and upgrading his computer system, I only half listened. My thoughts had moved on to more important matters. If I was going to crash a house party full of teenagers, I had to figure out what the hell I was going to wear.

  Chapter Eleven

  From the street, the place looked pretty much as I’d expected it to. The hedges that had been carefully trimmed in the satellite image were overgrown and ragged, and the wrought-iron fence wanted for a new coat of paint. My sight revealed the wards I’d guessed would be there. They’d been hastily constructed — a fact I stored away for future use in case I needed to tear them down in a hurry — but they’d do an adequate job of keeping anyone from hearing what went on within the property boundary. There were no cars on the street, and even for eleven o’clock at night, the place looked almost abandoned for how quiet it was. I leaned against a tall tree and watched the front gate for more than half an hour before a heavily modified car rumbled down the street and swung up to the gate. Heavy bass thumped from the car while it idled and waited for the gate to slide back smoothly on well oiled rollers. It was only when the tail lights of the car had disappeared around the curve of the driveway that I jogged up and slipped through the entrance just before the gate could slide shut again.

  A rush of sound assaulted me when I crossed the threshold of the property. The car’s engine and sound system were absorbed in the noise of a raging party. Yelling teenaged voices and rumbling car engines filled the yard, trap music blaring over everything at a volume that put most outdoor music festivals to shame. Enough modified cars lined both sides of the driveway to make the place look like a car-show-slash-illegal-street-race. Accent lights in every imaginable shade of neon lit the front yard, hoods propped open so people could stare at pristine engines while the owners
revved their cars and demoed aftermarket subwoofers that made the ground shake.

  Almost every guy wore some variation on the same theme. Skinny jeans belted mid-ass, white t-shirts, and flat brim ball caps perched at a jaunty angle. There was a little more variance in what the girls wore, even if they all shared the common factor of being skin tight and cut shorter than I’m sure any of their parents would be keen on.

  I looked down at my own outfit of faded grey jeans and a black t-shirt, thinking Chase had been right to express concern over my ability to fit in with a bunch of teenagers. Incapable of conjuring a slutty little dress even if I’d wanted to, I retrieved the folding knife from the inside of my waistband and went to work on my pants. A few quick cuts and a bit of tearing added trendy — if stupid — skin-exposing gashes to the fabric across the knees. A few more awkward slashes and tears later, and I’d managed to convert my t-shirt into a much lower cut, sleeveless, wide neck, off the shoulder thing I was actually kind of proud of.

  As a last step, I yanked my hair free of the elastic holding it in a loose ponytail. I still looked like I was wearing pajamas compared to some of the girls there. Most of them probably weren’t even old enough to be in college, yet they were dressed like this was an A-list club packed with celebrities and paparazzi. I was wearing a bit of every kind of makeup I owned, and here too I felt completely out of place. These girls all looked like they had makeup artists on retainer, eyes and lips immaculately drawn in trendy shades.

  Light flared behind me. I jumped a little, spinning and staring straight into the headlights of a ridiculously low slung car pulling into the party. Getting over my shock of not hearing the low purr of the engine over the party noise, I stepped aside to let it pass. The driver didn’t even look old enough to have a license, let alone be sitting behind the wheel of a Ferrari. Sure enough, when cruised past me, I could see the telltale green L magnet that indicated he was still driving on a learner’s permit.

  “This city,” I muttered to myself as I put on a ready-to-party smile and strode down the driveway.

  Something told me my usual cynical frown wouldn’t cut it at an event like this. The parties I’d gone to as a teenager had been a ragtag collection of what most school kids would call freaks and goths. It hadn’t been unusual to see a few sparkly vampires or glamoured up witches, but the general theme had definitely been Edge of Society Loners with a Superficial Understanding of Real Magic.

  In contrast, this was the kind of cool kid party people like me never got invites to. As near as I could tell, most of these people had no idea a magical barrier was protecting them from the outside world. They were just there because it was the place to be. From what Viktor relayed of the wood nymph’s complaints, I could easily imagine this house being in a near constant state of party. The kids at the core of it all would have to leave once in a while to perform rituals like the one Chase and I had crashed, but they probably had ways of slipping out unnoticed.

  Although I couldn’t really tell one car from another, I scanned every license plate I passed on my walk up the driveway. I’d memorized the plates Chase had managed to record, but as I suspected, the cars I was looking for were nowhere to be found in the mess of vehicles parked in front of the house.

  The front door of the house was wide open, so I walked right in. Where I’d expected a room packed full of sweaty dancing people, I found only emptiness. The music was a little less loud here, muted and muffled by the thick walls of the old house. Lights burned in every room, but the place was deserted. I wandered through the small entrance hallway and into what looked like a dining room. From there I drifted through an old-school sitting room complete with fireplace and floor to ceiling bookcases filled with leather-bound volumes that had probably been picked out as decoration rather than what was inside of them. I thought I heard noise coming from the back of the house and continued on to where I guessed the kitchen to be. I stepped through a doorway, swaying a little in order to hopefully pass for a random lost drunk chick.

  Five heads turned towards me when I entered, three of them female, none of them impressed with my intrusion. A cocky looking guy sat on the counter, flanked on either side by two girls who looked like they’d been hanging on his every word like he was some kind of celebrity.

  I was immediately interested in him for reasons of my own. Even if I hadn’t recognized his face from the ceremony at the power nexus, the black bandana tied around his wrist would have set off a dozen alarm bells in my brain.

  “Can I help you?” asked a girl with gold hoop earrings so large they brushed her shoulders.

  “I was just looking for the bathroom,” I said, slurring my words a little.

  “Well it ain’t in here, bitch.”

  “No shit, bitch,” I snapped back. “I already found it. I’m just looking for the asshole that brought me to this lame-ass party. You know Johnny? Did he come through here?”

  The girl looked like she wanted to gouge my eyes out with her inch long fake nails, but the guy laughed and gave her shoulder a little squeeze. He tilted his head a little to the side and stared at me with appraising eyes.

  “I haven’t seen Johnny all night. I’mma have to have a word with him later about leaving a fine-ass girl like you wandering around unattended,” he said. “Why don’t you party with us for a bit?”

  I shrugged and bit my lip. “I dunno.” Time to shift into shy girl mode. “I should probably go find Johnny.”

  “What’s your hurry?”

  The kid hopped down off the counter, hand slipping into his pocket. My muscles tensed involuntarily, brain frantically weighing the ramifications of going for the knife in my pants or unleashing a spell in front of so many witnesses. Power welled within me. It surged through my skin, aching to be released. Teeth clenched hard enough to make my jaw ache, I kept my eyes on his hand, not relaxing until I saw him open it to reveal a small silver pill box that he flicked open with practiced flair.

  “Hang out a bit,” he said softly. “I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

  “Can I get one of those, Trey?” asked one of the groupies.

  “Don’t be so goddam thirsty, Alisha,” he snarled. “I’m trying to be polite to our guest here.”

  I peered into the pill box. A little hoard of custom gel caps stared back from their red velvet home. My muscles relaxed, my magic settled down, but I couldn’t keep myself from from grinding my jaw like a pathetic addict. It was impossible to know what those pills contained. I wasn’t so desperate for a free fix that I didn’t think to scan them with my mage sight first to ensure that they hadn’t been magically altered.

  “What are they?” I finally asked, already knowing how this was going to play out.

  “Special blend,” he said. “A little up, a little down, a whole lot of fuck-you-right-in-the-brain-stem.”

  My throat had gone dry, and I swallowed uncomfortably. Taking one of those pills was definitely going to hinder my ability to sneak around the party, but damn if it wouldn’t make me look more convincing as a random party girl. It was what a truly dedicated undercover agent would do, wasn’t it?

  “You promise they’re safe?” I asked, working my most innocent doe eyes.

  “Sure, babe.” Trey plucked a capsule from the case and held it out for me to see. “Guaranteed good times or your money back.”

  “So how much is it?”

  He grinned and stepped in closer. “For you, no charge.”

  I’d love to say it was the first time I’d had to pretend to be flattered by a sleazy drug dealer, but I was more than a little practiced at it. I sidled right up to him until my hip pressed into his leg, opened my mouth, and stuck out my tongue like I was about to accept unholy communion.

  “Not like that,” Trey said.

  He reached around me, spinning me away from himself as he encircled my waist with his arms. I looked down and watched him pinch the capsule in the middle, breaking it in two so he could pour the contents onto the counter in a tidy little line. H
e then produced a silver coke straw that I took without being prompted. With no choice but to press my ass back into him as I bent forward, I stuck the end of the straw against my nostril and railed the contents of the capsule in one quick sniff.

  “Oh… oh fuck.”

  The room went supernova.

  Stars appeared and exploded in front of me. I felt Trey’s hands on my hips, for the moment the only thing keeping me from pitching over sideways. My brain was too busy melting and reforming in my skull to deal with such a trivial thing as standing up. A dim part of me registered Trey’s hand on the skin of my stomach underneath my shirt, but I was so far gone I didn’t care in the slightest. In fact, the more the drugs penetrated my system, coursing through my veins in a way that only raw magical energy had ever done before, I almost wanted him to move his hands further up my shirt. His body burned hot behind me. The most primal part of my psyche wanted to unleash a few choice spells on that bitch with the hoop earrings.

  As quickly as it had taken hold, the flood of neurological stimulus receded to an almost manageable level. I twisted out of Trey’s grasp, running my hands through my hair while uncontrollable laughter bubbled from my lips. I was far from in my right mind, but at least I could stand under my own power again.

  Trey reached out to take my hand. “Aww, don’t tell me you’re going back to that Johnny fool now. Stay and party with us.”

  “Johnny?” It took me far too long to remember the name I’d made up only minutes earlier. “Fuck Johnny. I need to be outside right now. This kitchen is so small. Isn’t this kitchen small? Is my stomach supposed to feel like this? I think maybe I need to go outside right now.”

  I’d regained enough control over myself to fake holding back vomit until I could run from the room and through the door that led into the backyard. For good measure, I staggered over to some bushes and made a show of throwing up. Once I’d fake wretched a few times, I stood up and wandered away from the house to where a knot of people were dancing near the soft blue light of an in-ground swimming pool. Massive speakers had been mounted around the pool area, looking more like permanent fixtures than temporary party rentals.