Wicked Wish (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 1)

Home > Other > Wicked Wish (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 1) > Page 21
Wicked Wish (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 1) Page 21

by Veronica Douglas


  I was a hurricane, except there was no calm in the middle of this storm. Wind whipped around me, a shield of rage. Damian backed away. He fixed me with a lingering glare that twisted my stomach, and then he turned and strode off.

  I watched him go, my mind a mess. Memories flashed. Damian, fighting at my side. Damian, healing me. I swore I’d sensed goodness in him. Honor.

  Fat lot of good my senses did.

  “Where’s he going?” Rhiannon asked.

  “I don’t know. He wanted the djinn, but I wouldn’t let him have it. He released it in the first place. This was all his fault, Rhia. How could I trust him with it?”

  “Should I go after him?”

  “Yes. No.” I raked a hand through my hair. “I don’t think so. I…don’t know what to do.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, grabbing my hand.

  He had saved my life, again and again, but he had released the djinn, and it had taken my best friend. He had opened the door to new worlds, but he had also deceived me from the start. Could I trust that he had nothing to do with the abductions? I had no idea. He hadn’t been honest about his motives or how he was entangled in all this. He’d led me along into peril with no warning. I wouldn’t have known if the djinn hadn’t told me.

  I forced back a sob. This moment should have been so different. A triumph. Instead, I was in turmoil, a cyclone turned inward.

  Lieutenant Bitchface came over. “What was that ruckus about?”

  “Nothing. Personal stuff. It’s been a long day.” I turned to her and produced the ornate brass box. “This is the djinn.” She reached out to take it, but I pulled it back just slightly. “No one should touch it. The bonds haven’t yet fully set. It needs to be locked away in the strongest vault we have and never released.”

  Bitchface considered me for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  Ten minutes later, Gretchen, Rhiannon, and I made our way to the Vault. I clutched the brass box, unwilling to let it out of my sight for even a second.

  “Your knuckles have gone white, Neve. Relax,” Rhiannon whispered.

  “I’m scared that if I let go, the bonds will break. I don’t know how this works. He can’t escape again.”

  “It’s going to be fine.”

  “You don’t know that.” My nerves were getting the best of me. Screw this djinn. I wanted him buried.

  We walked on in silence.

  A heavy brass door marked the gateway to the Vault. Every inch was engraved with arcane sigils, and protection magic thrummed almost violently around it.

  A weathered old man with gray muttonchops met us. It looked like he had spent his life tied to the mast of a ship. I couldn’t get much sense of his magic.

  Gretchen bowed her head in respect, something I’d never seen her do before to anyone. “Archmage DeLoren, we have something for your vaults.”

  “So I’ve heard.” The grizzled man turned to me. “You must be Neve. This is the djinn?”

  He reached to take the little brass box, but I jerked it back.

  He raised a hoary eyebrow that looked like it wanted to crawl off his face and make a chrysalis somewhere.

  “How do I know it’ll be safe in there?” I asked, and nodded to the door. Gretchen gaped at my impertinence, but I just stared at the archmage. This was too important to screw around with.

  When DeLoren responded, it was almost in a growl. “The Vault is the most secure place in Magic Side. It’s an arcane labyrinth filled with dangers and permanently sealed chambers. Very few have access, and none of us knows its true extent. It’s a place to lock things away and forget about them.”

  He reached out, but I didn’t hand it over. DeLoren radiated danger. I gestured down to the box. “The djinn is unimaginably powerful. Someone could just open it, and we’d be trapped in this nightmare again. Who’s going to say no to three wishes? Would you?”

  Gretchen nodded slightly, as if I had a point.

  I pinned the archmage with a stare. “So how do I know I can trust you?”

  His eyes flared, revealing a deep, repressed font of magic. As if to emphasize his point, he let just a fraction of his signature show, and it was like the air around us became stone. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. It was like being crushed beneath the depths of the ocean.

  “Magic Side’s archmages have guarded the Vault safely for more than a century,” he said. “There are things worse than a djinn locked in the recesses, and they have never escaped.” DeLoren gently placed a hand on my shoulder. “Each one of us has something in that Vault we never want released. Let me assure you, we all believe that there are things that don’t belong in this world and shouldn’t go free. Like this djinn.”

  He took the box from my open hand with his disfigured, knobby fingers. I hadn’t even realized that I’d been holding it out. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to lock it up.”

  DeLoren turned and traced runes upon the gateway. The brass door didn’t open, but rather bulged outward, sucking him through with a thunderclap.

  It took a moment for the three of us to recover once he left. I felt like someone had backed over me with a steamroller. Rhiannon looked at me wide-eyed, and then at Gretchen. “Whew. Well, I guess that seems legit.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I really don’t want to know what else they have locked up in there.”

  “Me, neither,” Gretchen said. “I could use some air.”

  Together, we climbed the stairs to a tower balcony. The neoclassical stone walls of the Hall of Inquiry loomed over the wide courtyard. Night had fallen. The few lonely lamps in the park across the street formed islands of light in a sea of shadowy trees. Beyond the foliage, Magic Side stretched out, lit by sodium streetlights that gave the low overhanging clouds a dull pinkish-yellow glow.

  I leaned on the railing. “I need a drink.”

  “You deserve it.” Gretchen looked me in the eyes. “There might be some hell from the higher-ups, but I’m going to push for a promotion to detective for you. You’ve earned it.”

  “Detective?” I was shocked.

  “Of course. Hell, I’ve been trying for over a year. You’re a great researcher, Neve, but I need my best people on the street, solving crime. I don’t think they’ll be able to turn it down this time—you just rescued Order personnel and several civilians, and solved a major kidnapping.”

  “Gretchen…thanks.”

  She nodded, satisfied. “The pack is back together again. That’s what matters to me.” She slapped me on the shoulder and left.

  Rhiannon beamed back at me after the door closed. “That went well.”

  I leaned on the rail, letting my breath out. “I have to say I’m shocked. I was pretty sure she hated me.”

  “No, she’s just prickly. I’ve been telling you that for years.”

  “I suppose I have to take back some of the things I’ve said.” And stop calling her Lieutenant Bitchface.

  “Promoted, Neve. A detective! We can solve crime side by side. Cagney and Lacey!”

  “More like Turner and Hooch.”

  Rhiannon laughed, and it lifted my soul.

  “How do you want to celebrate?” she asked. “Want to go out?”

  “Honestly, I want to turn into a potato. I’m so burned out, I don’t think I can even manage an intelligible conversation at this point.”

  “Perfect.” Rhiannon clapped her hands. “I’m half a potato at this point as it is. How about pizza and a movie? My place? Let’s watch a chick flick and pass out on the couch.”

  “Perfect.”

  As she’d predicted, Rhiannon passed out about twenty-five minutes into Bridget Jones’s Diary. I loved the movie but couldn’t focus. I was exhausted but restless, miserable on the couch.

  What I needed was a walk.

  I let myself out of Rhiannon’s place and headed down the street, the cold night air revitalizing me. Warm sodium lights lit the shuttered storefronts. My thoughts churned. A promotion? Maybe. I didn’t want to g
et ahead of myself. Half of my heart was giddy. The other half was…well, a mess.

  Damian.

  He’d lied to me. Betrayed me, effectively. He used me to get to the djinn and put me in harm’s way while concealing his true motives and role. And yet, part of me still wanted him.

  Idiot.

  I had other troubles, though. I looked down at the white tattoos that wove around my arm. What was happening to me? I’d pushed it out of my mind before, but it was going to be staring back at me every time I looked in the mirror. Would it stop growing? Was it linked to my powers or to something else entirely?

  The djinn’s words about my family drifted to the front of my mind. A deep ache tore at my chest. His words had almost suggested that they were still out there somewhere. Alive. Looking for me.

  The street felt closed in, claustrophobic and stifling. A light breeze rustled the trees above, as if a suggestion. The sidewalk behind me was empty.

  Good.

  I looked up into the cloudy sky and leapt. A slight gust caught me as I soared past the tops of the buildings in Old Mud City. The wind rushed around me and calmed my mind in a way that no movie, no drink, no euphoria could.

  I was actually flying now, instead of just pushing myself along with the wind. Thank goodness I’d run into the wind sprites. I wasn’t as strong here as in the Realm of Air, but I could still fly, and that made my heart sing.

  The old trees lining the streets below melted into formless black masses backlit by the golden lights. As I pulled away from the earth, their shadows merged with the buildings until the city itself was simply a sea of stars.

  I was home.

  Epilogue

  The Thief

  I strode through the Hall of Inquiry.

  Sometimes, stealing in broad daylight was just easier than breaking in.

  Frustration gnawed at the back of my mind. I’d come so close to possessing the djinn, only to have her hand it over to be locked up in the Vault. Weeks of planning, ruined.

  “This is it. The entrance to the Vault,” the security guard in front of me slurred, mesmerized by the charm I’d hypnotized him with.

  No one guarded the bronze door that led to the Vault. It didn’t need it. If I entered the wrong access code, the door would instantly devour me and digest my body in some strange, otherworldly dimension.

  The giant bronze face on the door grinned, as if reading my mind.

  I turned to the guard. “You’re done here. Go back to the other end of the building and create a distraction.”

  He stared at me blankly then left.

  Deftly, I wove runes in the air to disentangle the invisible spells that surrounded the door. If I dispelled the wrong one, the rest would trigger. I wasn’t certain what all the spells did, but I was sure they would collectively blast me to kingdom come.

  A minute later, fire alarms sounded in the distance.

  Good.

  The silver eyes of the bad-tempered door watched me as I worked, waiting for an excuse to bite.

  Quite an intelligent creation, aren’t we?

  Luckily, intelligent things were easy to manipulate. I pulled a charm from my pocket, and slowly hypnotized the door. Once it was under my spell, it told me the access code with a conspiratorial chuckle. I pressed them, and the door sucked me through the ether, ejecting me into a poorly lit stone corridor.

  The air hung lifeless and heavy, sapping my power. An anti-magic room. I was prepared for that, of course.

  Flicking on a flashlight, I stepped forward. The stone slab beneath my foot shifted, and with a hiss, a heavy yellow gas began leaking into the room, and an acrid scent rose into the air.

  Well, shit.

  A poison gas trap.

  I sprinted toward the bronze door at the end of the corridor. The large keyhole in the center of the door had to be a ruse. I checked the ornate vine decoration for a concealed button and found a loose bronze leaf. I pushed it aside, revealing a small slit—a hidden keyhole. Satisfaction rippled through me, and I pulled the long, hooked lockpick from my pocket and slowly slid it into the keyhole.

  There was a click.

  I ducked as a tiny dart whipped past my head.

  Fuck. That was close.

  A low, grating sound echoed from the door, and it sprang open a millimeter. Pushing it open, I stepped out from the claustrophobic darkness into a brightly lit, snowy wasteland. The bitter cold burned my lungs.

  The door stood alone, unconnected to a wall or structure of any kind. It was isolated, surrounded by a field of clean snow.

  Bizarre.

  Similar solitary doors perched atop nearby mounds, while the silhouettes of others were visible in the far distance. How many were there? Hundreds? And this was only the entryway into the Vault, a labyrinth of hundreds of perilous chambers connected across the ether.

  Suddenly, a mound of snow shifted on my left, then fell motionless.

  Cursed fates.

  I summoned my black blade from the ether just as the giant, blood-red eel erupted from the drift, jaws aiming for my chest. The eel dodged my first blow and dove toward me with another attack. Rolling out of the way, I brought my blade down on its neck, hacking once, twice, three times until it was severed. Splotches of bright red blood hissed in the snow.

  What a hellhole.

  My whole body was numb by the time I reached the closest door. It was unmarked, and there was no indication where it led. Irritation flared as I scanned the frozen wasteland, catching sight of dozens of similar isolated doors.

  So much for this plan.

  I hadn’t assumed that I could crack the Vault and its myriad of pathways, but I had hoped to make it a little farther than the entrance. But time was short.

  Frustrated, I retrieved the twisted green bottle from my satchel. It was amazing that such a fragile thing of beauty could trap the cosmic powers of a genie—my genie.

  I sighed. I’d been so close to getting the djinn. Now that it was sealed in this hell-forsaken Vault, I’d have to burn a wish to recover it. It was a net gain, but still ironic, and an inconvenient waste of a wish.

  I uncorked the glass bottle and rubbed it with my frozen palm. “I summon you, Adrazar, great efreet of the bottle.”

  Black, noxious smoke poured out of the spout, and flashes of flame burst within the dark clouds. The air exploded, and a billowing pillar of fire erupted, driving me backward and melting a crater in the snow.

  The pillar of fire took the form of a man who spoke with a thunderous, crackling voice. “What does my master command?”

  “Adrazar, son of fire, I will have you bestow upon me a wish.”

  “And what is it that you wish of me?” The efreet’s eyes raged with desire, no doubt sensing an opportunity to betray me.

  Making a wish was dangerous. The efreet obeyed my simple commands, but he was malicious by nature. And like all genies, he would twist my words if he could.

  But I was prepared. I’d written my wish down on a clay tablet to ensure there were no mistakes. Paper would have burned. I’d considered every loophole and distortion and written a watertight contract.

  It was still extremely risky.

  Flames licked up my palm as I handed the tablet to the efreet, the heat from his fingers baking the clay. Rage burned in his eyes as he read. “You have written an iron contract. I am bound to your service. I will grant you this wish.”

  The efreet grabbed me with fiery hands, and we exploded through the air, leaving a trail of melted snow in our wake.

  Searing pain racked my body as we flew on and on, passing from door to door, chamber to chamber, through a rapidly progressing labyrinth. Traversing it would have been impossible without the wish—to imagine otherwise would have been sheer insanity.

  At last, he landed in a small cave occupied by a solitary black iron chest. Still burning from the efreet’s touch, I stalked forward. Finally.

  Impatience tore at me as I wove runes in the air, recklessly ripping away the protection wards. So clo
se. I summoned my magic and dissolved the lock into dust.

  The chest creaked faintly as the lid released. Careful not to touch the chest, I drew my blade and flipped the lid open.

  The small ornate brass box lay within.

  I lifted it gently from the chest as if, like the efreet bottle, it were made of glass.

  At last, it was mine. The djinn—master of the winds. I would rule it as I ruled the efreet, master of fire.

  Only two more remained.

  We hope you enjoyed Wicked Wish!

  Book 2, Dark Storm, will be here next month. If you would like to read Damian’s point of view on the kiss in the maze, click here for a deleted scene that didn’t fit in the book. Or, if you like Facebook, click here to join the Veronica Douglas reader group where we chat books and other stuff.

  Thank you!

  We hope you enjoyed reading Wicked Wish! Please take a moment to leave us a review on Amazon or Goodreads. All reviews are helpful, and we would greatly appreciate it.

  Acknowledgments

  Veronica Douglas

  Linsey and Ben—when we dreamed this up on your bluff, we never thought this might become real. Thank you for your endless words of encouragement and tireless work. We couldn’t have done it without you!

  Thank you to Jena O’Connor and Lauren Simpson for your amazing editing. We learned SO much from you, and our writing is better for it!

  Thank you to the amazing readers on our advanced review team!

  And finally, thank you to Orina Kafe for the gorgeous cover art.

  Acknowledgments

  Linsey Hall

 

‹ Prev