by Katie Reus
“I’ve been there before. The owner is human and a sweet old man.” Well, maybe sweet was a stretch, but Thurman had always been kind to her. So when Cynara had gotten a tip about someone who owned a magic shop losing a wormhole spell in New Orleans, Victoria had known where to go. There were plenty of magic shops in New Orleans, many real, but Thurman’s was the most likely to have something along the line of a wormhole spell.
“How does one even lose a spell?” Drake frowned, his handsome face the picture of frustration.
“The man is human and I think in his seventies. Or close to it by now.” It bothered Victoria though. Thurman was known for being careful. He’d always hired shifters or vamps for extra security at his shop. He was definitely human, but there was a little more to him. She’d never pressed, but his ability to wield magic was inborn, that much she was certain of.
“We should have just let Cynara come here instead.”
“Whining isn’t sexy,” she murmured, nudging him with her hip.
He shot her a sideways look, his dragon flashing in his eyes. “I do not whine.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder, grinning. “That’s up for debate. And Cynara was too wired. She’s worried about her brother. Granted so are we, but she’s more likely to attack and kill him, or get herself ashed by this magic man if she comes in fangs blazing. It’s better for us to be here, especially since he knows me.” It had been about two years since she’d been here though.
Drake just made a grunting sound, probably muttering about his stubborn mate.
“Here,” she said, motioning to an iron gate off the sidewalk. She groaned when she saw the heavy lock in place. The shop didn’t have a website and no one had answered when she’d called earlier. It had kept ringing and ringing. She peered through the bars, able to see only lush plants spilling over an arched entryway. She could hear running water and remembered he had a fountain in the garden past the archway as well. His shop was beyond the courtyard but not visible from the sidewalk.
Drake grasped the lock, pulled. It snapped off as if it were made of plastic.
“Drake,” she whispered, looking around. There was a couple across the street walking their dog and a woman wearing spiky boots headed their way along the sidewalk. No one was paying attention to them, but still, she felt bad.
He just shrugged and pushed the gate open. It creaked as he stepped through, doing a full scan of the archway, definitely looking for traps.
When he was certain they were okay, he nodded once and held back for her hand without looking at her. Her heart warmed at the way he automatically reached for her. She was always doing that to him too. It was like breathing now. The need to touch him, to hold him, it was something she’d never tire of. “I don’t scent anything off,” she murmured. No other supernatural creatures at least.
“Me neither.” But Drake was still tense, his big body vibrating with energy as they strode through to the garden area.
To Victoria’s surprise Thurman was sitting at a round iron table with a ceramic tray, a teapot and small cup in front of him. He wore a gray three piece suit with a burgundy tie and a tan bowler hat. As always his pocket watch chain dangled from his vest.
“I’m closed for business,” he murmured, flicking a dismissive glance in their direction. But he smiled when he saw her, his teeth blindingly white against his ebony skin. “Victoria.” He set his cup down and stood in that regal way of his. “It’s been years.”
Thankful he remembered her, she smiled and strode toward him. Drake lightly grasped her elbow and let out a soft growl. Though she wanted to be annoyed, she knew her mate simply wanted to protect her. Instead of moving forward and hugging Thurman, she slid her arm around Drake’s waist.
“Thurman, this is my mate, Drake.”
His lips quirked as he nodded once politely. “I can see that.” When he eyed Drake there was a touch of awe in his eyes. “Never thought I’d get to meet one of your kind before I leave this plane.”
Drake flicked a look at Victoria before he turned back to Thurman. “You know what I am?”
“Your kinds has many names, but I can see you are a dragon.”
Victoria noted the way he said see, not know. Drake did too.
“You can see?” Drake’s voice had gone dangerously quiet.
This was definitely news to her. If she’d known he had whatever capability this was, she wouldn’t have brought her mate. In the past she’d come here for herbs whenever she was in town. Even though she was a healer she still used natural healing methods because she couldn’t afford to burn herself out by using her healing energy alone.
Thurman frowned as though surprised. “I thought you knew I was a seer.”
Victoria shook her head.
He shifted uncomfortably. “Ah, well. I am. Would you like to sit?”
“Yes, thank you.” She nudged Drake’s side when he stood there like a statue. She could feel the annoyance rolling off him.
She understood. It was jarring for a human to be able to see what they were, especially when shifters guarded their true selves carefully. But there was nothing they could do about it. When Thurman offered them tea, they both declined.
Instead of sitting, Drake stood at her back when she sat on one of the wrought iron chairs. “How have you been?” she asked, leaning back casually even though she felt anything but that right now. Her shifter senses had always trusted Thurman and she knew her wolf was more attuned to people than she was. That hadn’t changed, it was just different now that she knew he could see her true self.
“Well enough. But you don’t want to talk about that. What brings you here?”
She cleared her throat. “I did try to call.”
“I’ve been…taking a break from business. My shop was robbed. Not the first time, but…” He trailed off, lifting a shoulder.
She could see the robbery bothered him. “Were you here when it happened?”
“I…don’t know. I’ve had a lapse in memory. So have my staff.”
She looked up at her mate. His expression was dark. “Or more likely, someone erased your memory. Was a wormhole package stolen?”
Yep, that was Drake, right to the point.
Thurman blinked once. “That’s why you’re here.” Not a question.
She nodded.
He rubbed the back of his neck, nodded. “Among a couple other things. I didn’t notice at first, but one evening a week ago is a complete blank. I woke up at home, in my bed. My vampire assistant experienced the same thing that night.”
“Security—”
“Security feeds were all wiped,” he said, cutting Drake off. “You know who did this to me?” His expression turned dark, deadly.
“Unfortunately no. Some friends of ours were sucked into a…vortex or wormhole.” Victoria wasn’t certain if the terms were interchangeable. “Your spell, what are the parameters of it?” she continued. Magic wasn’t remotely her specialty.
“The spell can be used to open a door to another realm. Instead of a blood sacrifice or having to know a specific chant, the spell does the job for you.”
“So anyone can open a door with a spell?” Drake growled.
“No. There has to be a trigger. And I can’t answer what the trigger might be because I don’t know who took it and I don’t know how they…formatted it, so to speak. Do you have an idea who stole from me?” Anger burned bright in his gaze.
“We’re still trying to figure that out. Whoever did it…let it go,” Drake said softly. “They’re powerful.”
Victoria reached back and patted the hand Drake had set on her shoulder. She was glad he’d told Thurman to let it go. Whoever had taken from him and then set up Nyx and Bo had to be incredibly powerful. Wiping someone’s memory was a very, very difficult feat. Most supernatural beings were immune to something like that, but humans weren’t. Apparently not even a magic man. And he’d said his vampire assistant had a memory loss as well.
It made Victoria even more wo
rried about who’d sent Nyx and Bo to a Hell realm. Whoever had done it had been careful to cover their tracks. The fact that they hadn’t killed Thurman or his assistant when they likely could have, was the only thing that eased Victoria’s mind. But not by much.
She needed to find her friends. And fast.
* * *
Bo resisted the urge to let his talons unsheathe, to swipe his brother’s head off at the suggestion that they were letting Nyx walk into that Koighan camp. “No. Fucking. Way.” The only reason he wasn’t roaring right now was because they couldn’t afford anyone to hear them.
He knew what Koighans were. Inbred half-demons. True monsters who only cared about killing and receiving pleasure at any cost. They almost never came to the human realm but on the off chance one did, they were loathed and hunted by all supernatural beings. He wouldn’t let them in his club. Hell, he’d kill one on sight.
“What do you mean?” Nyx asked, completely ignoring Bo.
He growled at her and she continued to ignore him.
Rory lifted a shoulder. “I walk in there with you as if I want to sell you. If your wings are showing, it will bring everyone from the camp to see, except maybe a few guards. Bo and Ian can free the females.”
“First, you’re not taking Nyx in there. Second, say on some hypothetical insane plane of existence I allow this shit to go down, how would you and Nyx get out? You wouldn’t. Because if you say you won’t sell her, they’ll kill you and take her. You know what these bastards are like.” Bo was vibrating with rage, could feel his eyes glowing, heating up with the force of his internal rage. He was barely keeping himself in check, barely suppressing his need to kill, to destroy everything in his path that was a threat to Nyx.
Nyx pulled her hand from his, her expression a mix of too many things for him to decipher. Probably because he could barely see past his rage.
“You don’t allow me to do anything. No one does. I’m my own person.” She looked away from him then, hurt clear on her face as she turned to Rory.
He knew why, or at least guessed. Her family treated her like a chess piece, as an object. But he would never do that. He just needed her safe.
“That’s where your gift would come in. But without knowing the extent of it, I don’t know if this is a viable plan or not. Once the females are free, you and I would have a very limited window to attack and escape. I know I can take on at least ten of them, but with you…” He shook his head. “It’s not ideal circumstances. What exactly can you do?”
“Well, you saw what I did to those two males. I can also bring down pretty much any physical structure, but until very recently my gifts haven’t been very focused.”
That being an understatement. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about how she’d killed those two males earlier. Bo might have delivered the final blow to one of them, but Nyx had already killed the male…with her mind. He wasn’t sure what she’d done exactly. He wasn’t sure if she could do it again.
“There’s no guarantee you’ll be able to focus your energy now. Especially not if your emotions are high.” Somehow Bo kept his voice even when all he wanted to do was sling her over his shoulder caveman-style and get her to safety.
“We can’t walk away from this. What if that was me in there? Or your mother?” Yeah, she was playing on the sympathy card. “Or Cynara?”
He noticed she didn’t flat out say “his sister” but there was a certain desperation in her voice. Under any other circumstance he wouldn’t even think twice about walking away. Even now he didn’t want to. He didn’t doubt his ability to fight the fuckers in that camp. But the need to keep Nyx safe from everything was a living thing inside him, dark and feral. Deep down he knew that if he resisted this, that if he did what his primal instinct said and just whisked Nyx away, that she’d hate him for it in the end. She had a strong moral code, something he’d seen in the most subtle of ways before. He admired it. She needed a male who was good enough for her. While he knew he’d never be good enough, he had to try to do the right thing.
Unable to contain all of his anger, his talons unsheathed by his side. “I’m the one who walks into the camp with you.”
Both Rory and Ian shook their heads. “No,” Ian said. “One of us has to do it. They know us. If you walk in with her they’re more likely to attack first and just take her. You’re a stranger. And even if they let you in past the first layer of guards, the moment one of them looks at Nyx wrong, you’ll lose your shit.”
Bo wanted to deny it, but there was no way he could because it was the truth. He rolled his shoulders once, easing back from the urge to lash out. “So these fuckers know you. How?”
“They encroached on our territory and we killed a few dozen of them. Years ago. I didn’t even know there was a band of them in this realm anymore.”
Nyx’s head tilted to the side a fraction. “Wouldn’t that stand to reason they’d just attack you?”
“No. They fear strength. Besides, if it’s just me entering their camp they won’t attack straight off because they’ll want to know where Ian is. He killed more of them than me. And, no offense,” he said, shooting a quick glance at Bo before looking back at her, “they’ll listen to me if you’re with me for the sole fact that you’re…attractive.”
Bo could tell Rory’s first instinct was to say something crasser. He was glad the male hadn’t. Would save Bo the trouble of smashing his fist into the guy’s face later. He rolled his shoulders again. Fuck. He couldn’t be contemplating this. He absolutely couldn’t. If anything happened to Nyx he didn’t know how he’d forgive himself.
But when he looked at Nyx, saw the determined set of her jaw, he knew this was happening. “You’re going to draw a map of the place, then we’re going to go over everything. And you will defend her with your life.” It wasn’t a question. And the not-so-underlying threat in Bo’s voice said that if Rory didn’t, Bo would end the male’s life.
They moved back deeper into the woods and after Bo was as satisfied as he’d ever be that this had a chance of working, he nodded at his half-brothers. If they timed this right they’d be able to save the females, kill the half-demons and make it to the exit of this realm by the time darkness fell—ish. They’d be cutting it close, but it would have to do.
“All you have to do now is change,” Ian said, turning his back to Nyx to give her privacy. Rory immediately did the same.
Nyx looked at Bo, raised an eyebrow. He read the silent question or maybe order in that clear gaze. She thought he should turn around. Fuck that.
He crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t chivalrous, was barely civilized some days. If his female was taking off her clothes, he was watching.
Nyx looked a little nervous but also a lot freaking brave as she defiantly stripped her tunic off and put on her dingy, torn filmy top she’d had on when they’d first arrived here. Her wings flared bright, the intricate designs on the ethereal wisps floating out behind her immediately drawing the eye.
Which was the point. To infiltrate and distract, they needed the ultimate distraction. A fae. Those monsters wouldn’t know she was half-fae. Wouldn’t care. They’d just see pretty, delicate prey.
He swallowed back his fear. He’d spent most of his life without that emotion but now…he grabbed Nyx by the hips, tugged her to him and crushed his mouth to hers. He was an undeserving bastard who couldn’t, in a billion years, ever deserve this female, but he was damn sure going to try. After they got out of here he needed to convince her to mate with him. He knew shifter males courted their females. He could do that. Originally he’d planned to tie her to him with really good sex. Now he knew he needed to prove his worth to her, show her he could protect her, treat her as an equal. It was what she deserved.
Feeling primal, hungry, he flicked his tongue against hers in a brief mating, his strokes demanding. The feel of her mouth against his, her tongue tentative, sweet and exploring smoothed out something dark inside him. It pushed back that edge of insanity he’d been riding
and he had no idea how that was even possible.
He forced himself to pull back, knew he had to do it now or he’d never let her go. He’d just take her and leave and deal with her anger later. But he couldn’t do that to her. He had to respect her decision, respect her…and her power. In this place her energy wasn’t as cloaked as it had been in the human realm. And ever since she’d killed those half-demons he sensed it even more, pulsing against his skin. She was a strong woman.
He had to let her do this, be part of this. Even if it killed him. “You’re coming back to me,” he ordered. Because it wasn’t even a question. She would come back. He wouldn’t live in a world without her.
Something flickered in her gaze, something he couldn’t define, even if he liked it at the most primal level. “I will.”
* * *
Nyx walked a foot behind Rory, feeling more exposed than she’d ever been. It didn’t matter that she had on clothes, her wings were showing. It was like she had invisible neon arrows above her head pointing at her saying “look at me, look at me!” She knew it was for the best that Bo wasn’t with her, but she still wished he was. Especially after the way he’d just kissed her, just told her she was coming back to him. There’d been something in his tone that felt as possessive as his kiss had been. Which gave her hope that maybe he wanted more with her.
She flicked her wings, the action a nervous habit. She could solidify them if she wanted, but in this spectral form, no one could hurt her wings. Since she wasn’t sure what these Koighans would do when they saw her, she was keeping them ethereal.
Bo and Ian would be moving around to the back of the camp within minutes of her and Rory entering. At least that was the plan. And she had complete faith in Bo. No matter what, he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She didn’t plan on letting anything happen to herself or them. Even though she didn’t know them well, she was starting to feel a sense of protectiveness for Rory and Ian. The two males hadn’t needed to help them. They could have sent her and Bo off into the wild with a map and nothing else. Instead they’d offered them shelter last night, come with them and even now they were helping captives simply because they could. It was hard not to like males like that.