Bound by Faerie: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Stolen Magic Book 1)

by WB McKay

  A few blocks later, the sound of thumping bass told me I was nearing the club. A swarm of pixies buzzed around my head, chattering so fast I could only make out one word in ten. They were making no secret of sniffing me out. Finally one of them slowed his slurred speech enough to be intelligible. "You smell funny. What are you?" Honey perfume rolled off him like someone had just cracked open a beehive.

  "I'm a crow who's going to eat you and your pals if you don't piss off." I didn't have nearly enough patience to deal with a flight of sugar drunk pixies. I barely tolerated them sober.

  While dragons were frequent fliers at my job, and dealing with them was a good way to end up with third-degree burns, there was no worse job to take than one involving a pixie. They loved stealing things, especially naughty things. An enchanted object that could take out a city block, open a portal that led off a cliff, or made the victim only able to speak in pig Latin? All fun and games to a pixie. They hid their treasures in magical pocket universes that only they could access. It was always a complete pain in the ass to get them back. The sugar drunk pixies continued to buzz around my head and I reached for my absent swords. I let out a growl that scared a couple away, but the other ten remained, now making lewd gestures. "Fine, you asked for it."

  I opened the vault of my own fears and pulled out the memory of watching the Alfred Hitchcock classic The Birds when I was a child. Seeing all of those birds swarm had terrified me. Being frightened by a flock of birds was amusing to me now, but I could still recall the stark terror it inspired whenever one of my banshee sisters put it on. I channeled that fear and pushed it out in an ever-widening circle. The effect on the pixies was immediate. Many of them reversed course and crashed into the others. A faint tinkle of mist hit my shoulder, smelling sickly sweet, then the swarm finally gathered their wits enough to properly flee.

  I pulled a tissue out of my bag and groaned as I wiped my shoulder clean of pixie piss. My fear aura wasn't a power I used often for precisely that reason. I could make people afraid, but I couldn't control their reactions. If I had judged them wrong, the bastard that had pissed on me could have just as easily attempted to kill me. Pixies weren't known for being particularly blood-thirsty, so I'd risked it. Also, I was annoyed. That was going to get me killed someday.

  After another block I came upon a line of people leaning against a wall. I started to walk past them, but the harpy at the end raised her voice. "You going to Smoke and Mirrors?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Line starts here," she said, shaking her head.

  "But the club is still two blocks away." This wasn't helping my mood any. Ava hadn't said anything about waiting in line all night.

  "Hatchling," she said with an annoyed grunt.

  "Oh, hell no. You did not just call me a hatchling." It may have been true I was new to the scene and didn't have any idea what I was doing, but I wasn't about to take what was an obvious insult.

  Pissed off, and a little trigger happy after it had just worked so well with the pixies, my fear aura surrounded me. This time, I didn't draw on the memory of The Birds. I'd always been tense in cramped spaces, but since Leandra's attack, I'd developed a case of claustrophobia. The horror tightened my insides, and in a rush of panic, I forced it away from me, magical terror oozing from every pore and filling the surrounding air. Shrieks followed. The rude harpy at the end of the line cowered against the building, her hand stuffed in her mouth to quash her maddened screams. Tears streamed from eyes so wide with terror it looked like they might fall out. I felt a little bad for her. I hadn't meant to dump quite so much fear in the air.

  The rest of the people in the next fifty feet had fled, many of them leaving purses and other personal effects behind. As much as it would suit my mood, I couldn't put that much fear into a crowd. Sooner or later I'd run into someone who came down hard on the fight side of fight-or-flight. If I was giving off that much terror and they still felt the need to fight, they would be a force to be reckoned with. It would end in a bloodbath. I pulled back on my magic, but didn't extinguish it entirely. I still didn't have time to deal with the line.

  I ambled toward the club entrance, watching the queue gradually dissolve before me. A couple of shoving matches broke out, but nothing serious. I stepped around them without being noticed. Once I rounded the corner, only six people remained in line. I let my magic dissolve. The six fae shifted from foot to foot, edging closer to the bouncer at the door. Nervous little bunnies. Maybe I hadn't gotten it all the way under control. Stopping was always the hard part.

  The bouncer nervously surveyed the short line and then waved us all in. He must have decided that keeping seven people from going into the club wasn't that important. At least, not as important as the fear he was feeling. He didn't even collect the cover charge. I clamped down my control on my magic—truly reeling it in this time—and stepped into the club.

  Nothing registered visually until my body caught up with the magic overload. I'd thought it was bad on the streets of Volarus, but damn. I couldn't have told the difference between a unicorn and an ogre with the way my throat burned. As I adjusted, I was able to see why. Fae jumped and flitted over the dance floor, shooting their magic about like they were under attack. As a picture, the place could have been a battle scene, if it weren't for all the smiling faces. As people danced, they hit each other with magic. Some of the effects were obvious: floating the other person, enlarging their head in a goofy way, raining cotton candy down on the crowd. While I would have found any of that irritating, it was the magic that wasn't immediately obvious that made my skin crawl. Yes, everyone seemed happy and friendly, but how could anyone trust a crowd of strangers not to dose them with nefarious magic? I shivered. Avoiding the dance floor was now on the top of my list.

  My ears already ached from the loud music.

  My senses adjusted to the overwhelming sounds and the glut of magical sensations as much as they were going to. I made my way across the club, sticking to the edges of the room. Lights danced over the crowd, and once I blocked out the magic, and the sounds, and focused on my sight, they appeared to be a happy ocean of people, the lights and their movement giving the appearance of waves. They were all throwing their trust into the pot so they could be a part of something, this happy ocean. I didn't think I could ever do that, but the temptation made more sense in that light.

  A calmer magic itched at my back, and I turned to see velvet ropes blocking off another room hidden to the side. The sounds of the club dampened as I neared a hazy magic barrier; the calm lured me closer.

  A woman in an elegant dress stepped out from behind a podium and approached me, her air the strange mix of subservience and arrogance that only came from being the hostess at an upscale restaurant.

  "You look peckish," she said. "You should come in for a bite."

  I opened my mouth to refuse and surprised myself by accepting instead. My stomach rumbled so loud I worried it could be heard over the music. "That would be great. I'm starving."

  "Would a seat at the bar be acceptable?" asked the hostess, her intense gaze indicating that she would be disappointed if I didn't agree.

  "That would be fine," I said, not relishing the idea of sitting at a table alone.

  "Follow me." She took off at a pace that had me watching her feet. There was a high heel master. Her ankles didn't wobble for a second—not even when a chair backed up and she had to twist and dodge it. I managed okay on my low heels, and I'd never been interested in shoes before, but she made them look good.

  I passed the velvet ropes that separated the restaurant from the rest of the club and my ears popped; the sensation of cool water flooded the back of my mouth. Gone was the raucous dance music, replaced by a soothing tinkle of falling water and flutes. The abrupt change played havoc with my inner ear and made me stumble.

  I hurried to catch up with the hostess, who I'd almost lost, still working my jaw up and down to clear my ears before becoming self-conscious.

  "It's okay," said the
hostess once I was a pace behind her. "Everyone looks like a fish out of water when they first step in here." As far as I saw, she'd never even glanced over her shoulder. Did her magic allow her to see me? My senses were still too muddled to get a read on her. Anyhow, maybe it wasn't magic, maybe she was just good at her job. I wondered if I was supposed to tip her. She stopped at a low wall that divided the regular tables from the bar area and handed me a menu. "Have a seat anywhere you like. The server will be along to take your order in a moment."

  "Much appreciated," I said, but she was already gone. "Hostesses are strange creatures."

  "Yes, they are," said a low, smoky voice.

  I turned to search out its source and met the eyes of my target. Owen looked different than his picture. Less... predatory, but still a little douchey. When he gave me a lazy grin that weakened my knees, I amended my earlier thought about him looking less predatory. He was trying to look innocent before he swooped in for the kill. He wore his black, tight leather jacket open. A buckle collar swayed around his neck when he moved. The button-down shirt was a dark gray, and it probably would have looked good on anyone. His hair was rumpled in a careless way that must have taken him an hour in front of a mirror to achieve. It went with the overall look he was going for—sexy, but laid back. The scruff on his face was the perfect example. He was too well put together for it to simply be a well-timed accident, but he wanted me to believe he was the kind of guy who unintentionally looked that sexy. If I hadn't already disliked him based on Ava's tone, or the club I had to come to in order to find him, the well portrayed look he was putting on would have earned my glower. Anyone putting on that much of an act was someone I didn't want to spend my time puzzling out.

  Of course, that was exactly what I was there to do.

  I took a seat a couple stools down from him. "Any recommendations?" I asked, holding up the menu.

  "Try the bacon cheeseburger," he said, taking a sip of his beer and making no secret of the fact he was checking me out.

  "Well, at least the place has that much going for it." And the guy, for that matter. Anyone who recommended cheeseburgers couldn't be all bad.

  "That didn't sound like a glowing review," he said, a crease between his brow. "Not your kind of place?"

  The waitress came around and I placed an order for the bacon cheeseburger and a Coke. "Have you been out there?" I scoffed. "The smell alone was almost enough to make me turn around and walk out the door."

  "I like the mingling of all the magic scents," he said defensively.

  "Then why are you hiding in here?" My senses were still overloaded from the crowd in the restaurant proper, but it was a cozy respite from the bedlam of the club.

  "I was hungry. I'll be going back out there after I eat. You should join me." He turned my way and presented a cheesy smile. "I know a few tricks to help you get the most out of the experience."

  I almost rolled my eyes, and then I remembered that this was exactly what I was there for. "That would be nice," I said. The waitress stopped by and put my Coke unobtrusively on the bar. I took a sip. "Aaaah."

  "You don't want anything stronger than that?" asked Owen, eyeing my soda.

  "Not with my food. A good burger deserves to be savored. Pairing it with alcohol would dull my senses and lessen the experience."

  He laughed, a rumbling sound that made my stomach do an involuntary flip-flop. I blamed it on the hunger. "I like that you take eating so seriously."

  "Mostly just burgers. They're like sandwiches, but elevated until they're a wholly unique experience."

  Owen held down his smile, his eyes wide like he wanted to laugh. "You like your burgers."

  "I like my burgers," I agreed. Like magic—which it could have been—the waitress appeared and set down both of our meals.

  "Enjoy," said Owen, and tucked into his burger.

  I frowned at the poor presentation. The top bun was sliding off to reveal a boringly typical cheddar cheese, mayo, lettuce, and tomato burger with some limp bacon slapped on top. It was completely uninspired. I pushed it back into some semblance of order and took a sniff. No magic. There shouldn't have been—only certain groups of fae set traps in food, and Smoke and Mirrors had been around long enough to have a safe reputation, but I always checked. I grew up with only my sisters, never having to worry about such a thing. The transition from safety to the dangerous world of unknowns made me an extra cautious adult—at least as far as food was concerned. Stealing someone else's free will by way of a delicious cheeseburger was just evil.

  I took my first bite. Yep, the patty itself was just as bland as it looked. Judging by its uniform shape, I was almost certain it was a premade, freezer job. "Well, that just about does it for this place," I said, dropping the burger on the plate with a thump.

  "Was it not cooked properly?" asked Owen, mayo hiding in the dimple of his cheek. "They'll remake it if something wasn't done right. They're good like that."

  "No amount of remaking could turn that mess into something enjoyable." I pushed the plate away and took a long drink of my Coke. "That goes for this whole damned place, actually."

  An angry growl coming from his direction had me reaching for Haiku, but the sword was at home. Instead, I turned to face him, ready to draw on my magic if necessary. He was wearing a look I'd seen all too often. It was the Sophie-said-something-stupid face. Damn it.

  "Yeah, I think my appetite has gone as well." He pushed his plate away and gave me a curt nod. "Pleasure," he said, and stalked out of the bar.

  "Great job, Sophie," I chastised myself. "Now he knows your face, and he thinks you're an asshole. How are you supposed to get him to take you home now?"

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next morning I stepped into Lost in the Mist with my mind made up.

  "Listen, Ava, I appreciate your help, but this isn't going to work. If I can't find another copy of this book, I'll just have to break into his place. I'll find another way."

  "Failure, then," Ava said. "Interesting. I didn't believe you were someone who gave up so quickly."

  "Excuse you." I slapped my hand on her table. "I didn't even want to do this in the first place! It's easy to give up on a plan that was never my idea."

  "That bad?" She locked onto my gaze, mocking me.

  I folded my arms and spun so my back faced her. Freaking know-it-all monster. Still fuming, I admitted, "It was a total bust."

  "What happened? Did you get through the portal to his place?"

  "No," I said. "If I had, I would have the book. We barely even spoke. I don't know what I said wrong, but I pissed him off and he stormed off. See?" I turned back to her and tapped my fist hard to my chest. "I don't people."

  "You're not going to find another copy of this book anytime soon, nor will you be able to break into his place," she said. I harrumphed. I'd see about that. She waited until she had my full attention to say, "The question is: how important is this to you?"

  I glared at her harder than I already was. How important was this to me? I needed it, damn it. I needed it more than anything. And I hated it.

  "Desperation: it's what's for breakfast."

  I jerked back. "Did you just make a joke?" I asked. "Did you just make a very human joke?"

  "I run a human establishment, Sophie." Ava looked offended. There I went again.

  I almost said something inquiring about why it was she ran a human business, but I caught myself. Offending her further was not the goal right now. Before she decided to go ahead and be done with me, too, I told her, "I need your help."

  "I am aware," Ava said. Uh huh, like that wasn't offensive. Maybe I was just the only one willing to put up with other people's crap. Maybe I was just tougher than everyone else. It didn't sound quite right, but it put me in some pretty great light, and that was good enough for me. She waved her arm and the door to the back popped open. "This will take just a moment. Come along."

  "What will take just a moment?"

  But Ava didn't answer me, of course. She didn'
t need anything from me. This whole needing stuff from others thing was so not my gig. I vowed never to put myself in this situation again once this was all over.

  I followed her up to the doorframe but didn't step through. She looked back and gestured me forward. I'd been regularly visiting Ava for a year, and I'd never seen more than the front room. Of course, I'd never asked for a personal favor before, either. Stepping over the threshold had me newly aware that our relationship was expanding. Did this make us friends? Work friends? The fact that I felt so nervous brought whole new attention to my social ineptitude. I shook it off. I didn't have time for these revelations.

  The four walls were covered in one large fish tank, rivaling any professional aquarium. The lights inside bathed the room in a comfortable glow. Ava stood on a ladder; her hair brushed the ceiling. She pulled a small container from her pocket and sprinkled some of its contents into the tank along the back wall. A strange little creature darted out and gobbled up the bits of food. It was about eight inches in height, humanoid from the waist up, and a brightly colored crustacean from the waist down. He looked like a centaur's half mantis shrimp cousin. "This is Vincent," Ava said. "Vincent, meet Sophie."

  I waved. He nodded in acknowledgment before disappearing behind a large bit of coral.

  Ava climbed down with the ladder rail in one hand and the skirt of her dress in the other. She gestured for me to sit on a plush sofa. As I did so, I watched the graceful, gliding movement of the older fae woman swiftly give way as she hopped onto the opposing end of the sofa and roughly crossed her legs. She fought against the loose folds of her dress until she was comfortable. "Let's figure out what happened at the club, yes?"