by Rose O'Brien
She pursed her lips, studying his face, trying to read him, trying to decide something.
“Clock’s ticking,” he reminded her.
She nodded, having come to a decision. “Follow me.”
For the first time, he noticed what she was wearing. Leather boots, probably custom, clicked against the pavement. Stylish and girlie, but with practical heels. Tactical cargo pants hugged her hips, and a black T-shirt was stretched over the curve of her waist and breasts. No visible weapons.
They rounded a corner, onto one of the side streets off Sixth and she motioned to a cherry red classic Mustang convertible parked at the curb.
An appreciative whistle passed his lips.
“Yours?”
She nodded, a nervous smile tugging one corner of her mouth.
“Nice.”
Just because she was mixed up with storybook monsters and had possibly inflicted some serious brain damage on him didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a fine piece of machinery.
Alex got in on the passenger side and admired the well-tended black leather interior. Anyone that owned—and obviously cared for—a car like this couldn’t be all bad. Even so, his right hand rested on the gun holstered under his jacket.
The black rag top and the windows were up. They wouldn’t be overheard.
As she slid into the driver’s seat, her scent wrapped around him, smelling of cold mountain air and snow. Silence stretched between them. The tension was making his head hurt—even more than it already was.
“Just spill it,” he said, irritation creeping into his voice. His voice sounded too loud in the close confines of the car.
The blonde gripped the wheel, rubbing her palms against the leather wrappings. She let out a slow breath and closed her eyes.
“I don’t know where to start,” she whispered.
This was not the ass-kicking Amazon from last night. Her posture was slightly hunched, there were lines of exhaustion showing around her eyes and dark circles under them, the marks showing like bruises. She looked young, too young to be mixed up in…whatever this was.
And she’d let her guard down. His hand itched to pull the gun from its holster. She would answer his questions and quick if he did. But his gut said a softer approach was called for here.
“Why don’t you start with your name?” He suggested in a soft tone that worked wonders in interrogations. I’m the one that can help you, it said.
“Alayna,” she said. “Alayna Blackwell.”
“What are you, Alayna Blackwell?”
She gave him a steady look that had his heart skipping a beat.
“That’s a bit harder to answer.”
Chapter 4
Oh shit.
Those were the only two words that were capable of forming in Alayna’s brain at the moment. She eyed the tall, well-muscled man who was taking up most of the space—and all of the air—in her car. The same dark-eyed hottie with the delectable lips she’d been trying to forget just that morning by going ten rounds with the punching bag.
Thoughts swirled through her head like a storm. Why had the memory spell failed? How did she tell someone that everything they believed about the world was wrong? That all of things that hid under the bed, in the closet, in the shadows were real and were walking around like regular people, were regular people, for the most part? How did she sideline a determined and experienced investigator who was one short trigger pull from putting a bullet through her?
“I’m a mage,” she said trying to slow her heart rate.
He gave her a look that must have been really effective on petty criminals—part scowl, part steady glare—and tilted his head slightly to the side.
“A magick user. We’ve been called witches, wizards, sorcerers, you name it.”
“So that’s how you did all that stuff last night, the electricity, fixing my head injury? Fucking magic?”
She nodded, eying where his hand rested on his weapon. Would he really shoot her?
“Do I look like stupid enough buy that explanation? It’s more likely that you drugged me last night, something that made me hallucinate. Must have affected my memory. Maybe it’s just now wearing off.”
“I actually think you’re very intelligent and that you’re capable of looking at the evidence you’ve seen in a rational way. Why would I go to all that trouble when I could have just shot you with your own gun last night if I wanted you out of the way? Or left you die from that head injury?”
“Magick isn’t real.”
She held out her hand.
“Give me something of yours. Something you know I haven’t messed with.”
Slowly dropping his gaze, like he was reluctant to take his eyes off her, he pulled a small notebook from a pocket and held it out.
Taking it, she began to whisper, the sound like snowflakes falling on water, weaving her spell with her voice. It was a simple one. Within seconds, ice crystals formed over the surface and the paper stiffened. She fed the ice with her own energy, stacking the crystals on top of each other. Before long, the notebook was covered in a thin sheet of ice, and Alex had gone very pale beneath his tan. His mouth hung open slightly.
Swallowing hard, he took the notebook from her and turned it in his hands. Bending it, the ice cracked and fell away.
“Huh. Magick is real.” He was silent for a long moment before he spoke up again. “What is your interest in Nick Salvadin?”
“Homicide investigation. I thought Nick might know something.”
“And did he?”
It was her turn to be silent for a moment as she thought about how much to tell him. “He gave me a new lead, that’s about it. What’s your interest in him?”
“Blanca Rodriguez was a good friend. I’m looking for her killer. What kind of lead did he give you? I need to know.”
So it was personal. Alex had the look of a man on a mission. There was also a punchy edge to him. Dark stubble covered his jaw, and he looked like he hadn’t slept well the last few days.
“I’m not sure yet. I need to do some checking on that, but I’ll tell you what I can, when I can.” She paused for a moment. “And I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Who were those people with you in the alley last night?” he asked, ignoring her attempt at sympathy and plowing on with his questions.
So focused. Alayna chuckled at the sudden change of subject. Nothing slowed this guy down.
“My team. We’re in charge of policing and protecting the more unconventional citizens here in Austin,” she said. “We keep the supernatural community safe from the scrutiny of the sapiens, who outnumber us ninety-nine to one, and do our best to avoid a torches and pitchforks situation.”
She was going to be in so much trouble. Revealing the supernatural world to a sapien was strictly forbidden. The brass was going to strip her of command and throw her in a cell. She shuddered at the thought. Not how she wanted to spend what little remaining time on earth she had. And they were going to kill Alex, no doubt about that.
The Council would do anything to keep to the existence of the magickal races a secret from the sapiens. There was a vehement belief among the Council members that if sapiens ever discovered the creatures living in their midst, they would turn on the magickal races and exterminate them. And who could blame them for that thinking, given how sapiens treated members of their own subspecies just because they had differing skin colors?
“Sapiens? What does that mean?”
Clearly, he wasn’t going to let this go. Trying another memory spell might fry his brain, and there was no way to know it wouldn’t fail again. The only way to shake this guy was to turn him into a drooling vegetable or put him in the ground under a nice piece of granite. Or tell him the truth.
The guy had serious cojones. He’d stood up to a vamp in full predator mode and had just relived the traumatic experience when his memories came flooding back. He wasn’t even breathing hard, and he hadn’t shot her, so she knew he could keep his shit together when t
hings went to hell.
The thought of turning someone so brave and beautiful over to a death squad made something in her chest hurt.
What if she could turn him into an asset? An investigator inside sapien law enforcement would be a valuable thing, maybe valuable enough to keep him alive should the situation ever come to light with the brass.
She didn’t know if she could trust him, but it was the best option among the truly horrible options that were in front of her.
“You can take your hand off the gun. I’ll answer your questions.”
He laughed, a derisive bark. “What are sapiens?”
“Sapiens are you people, the mainstream,” she said, frustration bubbling in her chest.
“No, we’re humans, and you’re…whatever it is you are,” he said, sounding defensive.
“Let’s get one thing straight: I’m as human as you are. And so was that vampire last night and so are the shifters,” she said.
“Wait…there are shifters now?” he asked. “Like shape shifters?”
“Got it in one,” she said.
“What do you mean you’re all human?” he asked, a note of anger creeping into his voice.
“I mean,” she said in a voice meant to calm him, “that there are more branches of human evolution than Darwin ever dreamed of. You are homo sapiens sapiens, plain old, white bread, vanilla human. Then there’s me, homo sapiens mageus, a slightly different subspecies. All the same parts with a few energy efficient upgrades.”
He was scowling now, like she was trying to tell him the sky wasn’t blue or that the American Dream was a myth.
“Then there’s old Nick from last night, homo sapiens vampirus, an apex predator that depends on the blood of sapiens for survival. They’re not dead or undead, but they are fast and incredibly strong.”
She realized she was sounding like a nature show host and it was freaking out Agent Martinez.
“Your eyes just got really big. Take deep breaths and put your head between your knees if you think you’re going to pass out,” she said.
He glared at her again.
“Don’t worry, they don’t usually kill their food—”
Just then, his stomach gave an impossibly loud gurgle. Alayna stifled a snicker and raised an eyebrow.
“Speaking of food, have you ever had a Mighty Cone?”
“A mighty what?”
“Mighty Cone. It’s a food truck a few blocks from here. It’s basically a vertical taco, but they have these fried avocados that are quite possibly the best thing you will ever put in your mouth,” she explained.
The guy had a really puzzled look on his face now and was staring at her like she was crazy.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she said, indicating his rumbling mid-section. “My treat, seeing as I left you in a frigid alley last night.”
“I feel like I just pushed through the back of the wardrobe into Narnia and you’re waxing poetic about fried avocados.” Slowly, his hand lifted off his weapon and he mumbled under his breath, “This day cannot get any weirder.”
Twisting the key in the ignition, she brought the roaring engine to life and pulled away from the curb.
“Challenge accepted.” She flashed him a smile and said, “There’s no reason you should face the crumbling of the foundations of your reality on an empty stomach, is there?”
Chapter 5
A few minutes later, Alex was holding a paper cone lined with a tortilla and filled with fried chicken and avocado. Alayna handed him a sweating glass bottle of beer and when he gave her a questioning look she said, “It’ll help. Trust me.”
They wandered back to where Alayna had parked the Mustang, well away from the group of food trailers, milling families, street musicians and scattered booths selling crafts. They sat on the hood eating and sipping their beers in silence.
Finally, he asked, “What did you do to me last night?”
Alayna had just started to relax a bit and instantly her posture tensed again. She crumpled her plastic fork in the paper cone and set it aside before wiping her hands on a paper napkin.
“First, I healed a pretty serious skull fracture,” she said. “Then, I kissed you, mostly so I could distract you, and then I wiped your memory.”
Turning, he met her eyes. That gaze was magnetic, pulling him in.
“Mostly to distract me, huh? It sure as hell worked.”
A blush bloomed pink across her cheeks and throat. She shifted nervously, and her thigh brushed his, spiking his heart rate. The truth was, her mouth could have distracted him from a mortar strike. It was continuing to distract him now.
“Why didn’t the memory wipe stick?” he asked, trying to cover the fact that he was staring at her.
“I’m not sure. I’ve never had a spell fail like that,” she said, rubbing her hands on her knees. “But I’ve heard stories of sapiens that are immune to magick, or at least resistant to it. They’re called lìthseach—it means slippery in Gaelic—and they’re kind of Teflon coated against magick. A spell might work for a while, but it eventually fails. But they’re so rare, I thought they were just a myth.”
Well, that was just impossible. He wasn’t special. No one in his family was special. He’d never stood out at anything in his life. He was strictly middle of the pack, average.
“Maybe when you saw me, it triggered the spell to fail completely. You said you’d already started to remember a few details,” she said. “What I can’t figure out is why Camille sent you in there.”
He told her about the strange encounter in the hallway with Camille, how his mouth had seemed to move on its own.
“Vampire pheromones. They can give sapiens brain fog and leave you open to compulsion or suggestion. She must have figured out what happened with the memory wipe from what you told her,” Alayna said.
“And she sent me in there thinking that if I got close to you, my memories might come back?”
“Exactly,” Alayna said. “And she knew the hot water I’d land in, too. That bitch has always had it out for me.”
She was silent a moment as she absently played with a lock of her hair.
“Hot water?”
His protective instincts bubbled up. If she was in some kind of trouble because of him, he wanted to help. The memory of that fight in the alley floated up. The idea of her needing his protection was laughable.
She shook her head and waved off his question.
“If you really are a lìthseach, you’re in even more danger than I thought. Now that you know what’s out there, you’re probably going to start seeing through the glamours that elves and fey use to hide their appearance. Heck, you’ll probably be able to spot vampires and shifters pretty soon, too.”
She looked at him and concern was etched in her features. It had been a long time since anyone besides his mother had been concerned for him and the knowledge that maybe she cared sent something tingling across his abs and chest. He had the strangest urge to reach out and touch her face, to smooth that frown from between her brows.
She’d begun speaking again, and he focused on her words.
“I can’t risk another memory wipe without causing serious brain damage. And unless you are the world’s best actor, you’re going to give yourself away the first time you see a fey on the street. There are a lot of people who would love to get their hands on a lìthseach, for a lot of reasons, none of them good.”
Anxiety twisted through his gut.
“So I’ve got a target on my back?”
She nodded, her eyes searching his face, for what, he didn’t know.
“And if the Council or the rest of the Mage Corps finds out that I revealed us to an FBI agent, you could end up six feet under, and I could end up in a cell,” she said, the stress evident in her voice.
Protectiveness surged again. He’d put her in danger.
“Wait, you’ve lost me. Again. Who are the Council and the Mage Corps?” Alex asked.
She paused. “The more I tell you, th
e more danger you’re in.”
“You pulled me down this rabbit hole, Alice. If I’m in danger, I need to know as much as possible.”
She grimaced and nodded.
“Fine. The Council of Magickal Creatures is the governing body for everything that goes bump in the night. One member for each of the races: mages, vampires, shifters, elves and fey. They’re elected by their people.”
A derisive laugh slipped from him. “So, the monsters have discovered democracy. How progressive.”
“It works. Well, most of the time, anyway,” she said, shrugging. “Mages can pass most easily in normal sapien society, so we’re the buffers between sapiens and the other races. So we have the Mage Corps.”
“My head hurts,” Alex said, rubbing the spot between his eyes.
“That’s what the beer is for,” she said.
He took a long pull from the bottle and sighed.
“So, you and this team, you were after Salvadin last night, too. And he gave you a new lead. What’s next?” Alex asked.
Alayna stared at him, a puzzled look on her face.
“So, you believe me? About all of this?” Incredulity permeated Alayna’s voice.
“After what I saw last night and experienced today, it’s really not that hard to believe,” he said.
After living in Austin a few years, it kind of made sense to him. The city’s motto was “Keep Austin Weird” and there were plenty of weirdos in this town. And how much did anyone know about the people around them? He didn’t even know the names of the neighbors he shared walls with.
“Salvadin’s one of the first leads we’ve had in this case in months.”
“How did you end up on his trail?”
“Salvadin is a known gofer and bouncer for several clubs,” she said.
He gave her a look that said he wasn’t buying that story.
“Our hacker cracked the APD system and got the footage from the night Blanca Rodriguez disappeared and found the interview notes from when the cops questioned him. I’m pretty sure he used his vampire compulsion to walk out of that interview without giving the cops anything of value.”