Forgotten Magic (Stolen Magic Book 1) Read online

  Copyright Jayne Hawke (2020) ©. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are purely from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is fictionalised and coincidental.

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  Cover art by Deranged Doctor Design

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  ONE

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Fifty-Three

  Fifty-Four

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  ONE

  They were late. Sighing, I shifted my weight. The cold lamp post was beginning to dig into my back, and I was growing irritable. Was it really so hard to show up to a business deal on time?

  Looking over my shoulder, I saw a trio of beautiful naked women with porcelain skin and waist-length chocolate brown hair cavorting around the stony beach. Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the broad road in front of me. Petr and his friends were meant to have been there fifteen minutes ago. The selkies' laughing increased in volume as they turned up their cavorting. A group of teenage boys were slowly edging closer.

  Sure, the selkies were stunning, but they were also predators. They weren't as vicious as their horse counterparts, kelpies, but they still enjoyed the taste of human flesh. Every now and again, men got lucky and were released once the selkie had grown bored, but most of them were never seen again. It wasn't as though this was some hidden information only a select few knew, either. They taught you about it in school right alongside geography and maths.

  A high-pitched whining engine raced down the main drag towards me. I levelled the driver with my best flat glare. The expensive sports car was supposed to be impressive. I was anything but impressed. Petr screeched to a stop in front of me and casually got out of the blood-red low-slung car with a shit-eating grin on his face. I maintained a poker face as I watched him. The area around us was quiet, perfect for a deal like this to go down. The waves washed over the large pebbles, forming a peaceful background symphony for what was about to go down.

  I didn't need to be a witch to know that he'd brought friends and planned on screwing me over. Pushing off from the lamp post, I stood up straight and strolled over to the millionaire. I could hear Castor's voice in my head telling me that he'd told me as much and I shouldn't have wasted my time on Petr. I hadn't been able to figure out what type of supernatural Petr was. They had some weird and wonderful creatures in Russia. There was still a little hope that whatever he was had some honour.

  "Lily, you look beautiful," the Russian said with a soft accent.

  "Cut the shit and give me my money," I said drily.

  I hated when people were late, and I saw no reason to maintain the silky facade when he had goons edging in closer.

  He wasn't much taller than me with oily black hair slicked back highlighting his round face and long nose. His thin lips pressed together, and his small eyes darted to the left. I could feel them. A pair of bear shifters. Great. Judging from the expensive suit, which was a little too snug around the waist, Petr didn't expect to get his hands dirty. Unfortunately for him, there was little I hated more than cheats.

  "You have it?" Petr demanded.

  He'd dropped the nice facade immediately, and I appreciated it. Those games were exhausting when we both knew the ending was bloody.

  I pulled the brilliant blue orb out from the bag which hung near my hip.

  "I've never broken a deal," I said.

  There was still a small chance that the deal would go through and I could continue with my evening plans. He nodded and reached for it. I side-stepped easily. The bears were closing in. I was aware of the movement of great hulking men in the periphery of my vision. I supposed I should have been glad it wasn't a pack of hyena shifters, or alligators. A past client had paid me a good sum to drag an alligator shifter back to her. The shifter had reneged in a deal. Never again. They were mean far beyond reason, and whiny in the cooler climates. The Fae Isles very firmly fell into the cooler climate category.

  "Give me my money," I commanded.

  "I can't do that."

  He almost sounded sad. Almost.

  I sighed and made sure the orb was secure in my bag. That thing was worth an easy quarter of a million, and it had taken me two weeks to track it down and acquire it. I wasn't going to let some bear break it.

  "You know, you could have just kept our agreement. I gave you a fantastic deal," I said as I pulled my sword from its sheath.

  Petr's eyes widened in horror. I'd wrapped a glamour around the long sword and sheath to hide it from normal people as I wandered the streets of Brighton. It wasn't unusual to see bounty hunters and the like wandering around with more weapons than you could shake a stick at, but I wanted to pass as a nice businesswoman if I needed to.

  The bears closed in around me. Rolling my shoulders, I flashed them a big grin and prepared to kick their asses.

  "You can still walk away, you know," I said.

  The biggest of them was a brutish man standing over 6'6 with shoulders twice as wide as my own. His hair was shaved almost down to his scalp, and his dark eyes burned with malice. He bared big ursine teeth at me and growled.

  I wouldn't kill them if I didn't have to. I wasn't a monster.

  The two of them weren’t used to fighting as a pair. They were brawlers, massive bear paws at the end of still-human arms flying wildly, but they were used to their size being enough to solve any problem without needing the support of their partner. They tripped over each other, bumped shoulders and snarled, all while I quietly dodged, sword ready to end the fight but hoping they would recognize the futility of the whole thing.

  At the end of the day, I may not have been an elven duellist, but they were street toughs. I had no idea what Petr thought he was playing at by bringing them, but if he really thought they were going to take the orb from me I’d be insulted.

  After a minute or two of frantic motion, they were growing tired and pissed off, and the more things escalated the more they fought each other. A few more minutes and I’d probably have been forgotten, but I saw Petr edging towards his car, and that meant the fight had to end. I made one long spiral slice around myself, splitting one bear
’s the arm in half from elbow to paw and catching the other across the knees, slipping easily through both kneecaps and leaving him to collapse screaming. I finished with a flourish to the temple of the first man with the flat of the blade, hard enough to daze him and ensure he didn’t decide one arm was good enough to continue on.

  Neither would die, but even with shifter healing they wouldn’t be in fighting form anytime soon. Petr sped up his run for the car, but it was clear from his face that he knew it was futile. He still had a good twenty metres to go when I caught up and made an elbow thrust into the back of his neck, severing his spine and ending his life with no more than a gurgle to stand testament to his illustrious career as a swindling dirtbag.

  Two

  I'd been planning on heading to Hot Shots to dance the night away with a stranger. The bears had ruined my mood, and my shirt, even if killing Petr had basically been my good deed for the day. It had been a beautiful silk shirt flown in from Paris, and now it was blood-stained. I'd headed straight home, taking the coastal road around the edge of the city. The views of the waves rolling in over the pebble beach soothed my mood a touch.

  A quick pat of my bag confirmed that the orb was just fine, so the night hadn't been a complete loss. There would be another buyer, and word would spread about what I did to Petr's pet bears. I parked my almost-brand-new Dodge Charger in my driveway and stalked inside. The moment I was inside, I stripped off the ruined silk shirt and bundled it into a small ball. I should have known better than to wear a favourite shirt to a deal with the Russian. His reputation wasn't great even if the money was good. Not that I needed the money, really, it just gave me an excuse to take on the riskier more fun jobs.

  A quick shower made sure that I washed off the feeling of sweat, dirt, and blood. I emerged from my bedroom in a silk short-and-cami sleep set to find Castor leaning against the banister outside of my bedroom with his arms crossed.

  "Petr didn't want to pay," he said victoriously.

  "I know, you said he wouldn't," I said with a sigh.

  The fox shifter watched me with warm golden eyes, his shock of deep russet hair messed up and showing he'd been napping while I was gone. He pursed his lips slightly, but he bit back the 'told you so' and smiled.

  "At least you're not injured," he said gently.

  Castor was my familiar. He had joined me on the fateful night my life changed. It had been him that had helped me understand and learn the full extent of my magic, new and old. He had taught me how to be the thief and bounty hunter that I was. The fox didn't always approve of my decisions, but I could feel the caring and affection rolling off him even when he tried to be pissed at me. He was the big brother I never had.

  He looked to be a couple of years older than me, putting him in his late twenties. Shifters aged slowly, though, and he wasn't an ordinary shifter. My guess was he was at least a few centuries old, not that he'd ever tell me.

  "Are you joining me for ice cream and a movie?" I asked as I started down the stairs.

  "Of course," Castor said with a smile.

  He claimed the indulgent cookies and cream ice cream while I took the sour cherry. It was the real deal made from cow's milk, which meant that it had been far from cheap. The fae adored cow's milk and cream, so they had made it a luxury item after the Fall by artificially inflating prices to an incredible degree. As the ruling class, they could do just about anything they pleased. On the Fae Isles, at least. There were some small farms that sold black-market milk and cream at (ironically) far more affordable rates, but they were usually caught and punished pretty quickly. The fae hated being crossed or disobeyed.

  Flicking through the channels, I thought about how much my life had changed over the last decade. The anniversary of the night that had changed everything had passed a couple of months back. I'd barely slept for the week around the anniversary, the memories haunted me. It was passing, though, and I was able to look at everything I'd accomplished with pride.

  Growing up had been difficult. The coven was strict, and none of the elders was a fan of me or my existence. I had to fight for every little thing. It was exhausting, but it had given me a resilience I'd needed when everything changed. Thanks to them, I had a large trunk of grimoires, which I had studied extensively, and a bank account with a few hundred million sitting in it. Unfortunately, I couldn't touch the bank account or let anyone know the grimoires existed. If anyone found out, they'd know who I was. They'd know I survived, and what I'd become.

  Three

  I'd earnt a few days off. The office remained closed, although I kept my work phone on hand in case someone had an emergency. Or a job offer I couldn't refuse. I'd built a good business and reputation as someone that could find anything or anyone. I preferred the acquisition jobs over the fixer jobs, but it was nice to have a variety. Acquisitions and fixer sounded so much better than thief and bounty hunter or assassin. Not that I had any shame about what I did; it just looked prettier on a business card.

  Castor was lounging out in the window seat overlooking our garden and the ocean in his fox form. He'd screen my business calls for me and make sure that only people who were worth my time and attention received it. To look at him in that moment, in his adorable red fox form, you'd never think that he could wield great magic should he choose. Normal familiars could act as a battery and guide for their witch, but nothing about Castor was normal. He could have been a great witch and commanded awesome power, but instead he chose to sunbathe and steal my ice-cream occasionally.

  I headed out into the city and idly wondered what it had been like before the fae had stepped out of the shadows. The city was a vibrant melting pot. I'd been born and raised in Inverness. Brighton was the complete opposite of the Scottish city. Where Inverness was aware of its history and wore it proudly upon every grey stone, Brighton was brightly coloured and proud of every quirk and artistic leaning its inhabitants had to offer.

  Parking near the pier, I stepped out to see a puka strolling along behind the parked cars with neon yellow cat ears, a pair of violet and electric blue striped leggings, and a glittery gold shirt. He smiled at me, flashing sharp canines. I didn't want to think how much money he sank into keeping his ears dyed that colour. Fae hair was notorious for shaking off dyes. Whatever made him happy.

  The sky was growing heavy with thick grey clouds that rolled in over the increasingly violent-looking sea. A glance out over the white-topped waves showed a small group of mermaids frolicking. They were leaping out of the water trying to catch seagulls that were dipping and diving down towards the water before they flew upwards again. A small gaggle of pixies with their translucent wings pinned back to stop people from stealing the dust they dropped all the time had gathered on the sidewalk.

  I made my way along the sidewalk at the edge of the beach until I came to One Last Drop, a quaint cafe that I'd come to call my own. Settling myself down in my preferred corner seat with an excellent view over the beach and the ocean beyond, I ordered my normal pot of tea with two scones. The waitress was a young human. He was new to the staff. His forest-green hair with deep-blue tips showed off his more creative flair and brought out his dark-blue eyes.

  Once my scones and tea had arrived, I pulled out my latest read and relaxed, knowing that I had nowhere else to be. My day was spent enjoying tea and scones while losing myself in an exciting thriller about a daring young sidhe and her trusty lynx-shifter sidekick. The storm had washed over the city, leaving deep puddles and a freshness in the air by the time I was ready to leave.

  Commuters had been and gone, leaving the city in a state of preparedness while everyone changed from their drab daywear into their night clothes. The clubs and bars were very popular throughout the city, even on a Wednesday night. As much as I was tempted to say screw it and head to the Jackal and Crown, I needed to keep myself on top form. That meant a two-hour work-out was needed before I could let my hair down and have any real fun.

  I'd tried working out first thing in the morning so that it wa
s done. Everyone swore that it gave you a nice buzz and made you ready for the day. They lied. It left me sweaty and grumpy. I'd finally settled into doing it in the early evening. As much as I disliked it, I couldn't afford to skip it. I got into fights with shifters and stole from elite fae. Letting myself lose fitness was a death sentence. Castor had tried to convince me to give up the dull routine of it, but I couldn't afford to lean on my magic all the time.

  The fox was back in his human form and helping himself to the last of the apple pie I'd ordered in the day before. I wanted to be pissed at him, but I couldn't summon it. He gave me a knowing grin as he polished off the last bite.

  "Must you do your boring routines again?" he asked.

  "You could always join me."

  He wrinkled his nose and lifted his t-shirt, reminding me that he had a perfectly sculpted six-pack under there. It was beyond unfair. I had no idea how he did it, as he seemed to spend his time eating and sleeping.

  "I'm going to the Jackal and Dagger once I'm done, coming?" I asked.

  "I have plans, another time."

  I smirked at him.

  "With a pretty vixen?"

  "A stunning half-kelpie actually."

  "You always were a risk taker."

  Kelpies were a vicious form of fae. They shifted into huge water-horses, which drowned and ate people. I wouldn't jump into bed with one, or half of one. I was pretty attached to my body in its non-eaten state.

  "I do like them wild," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  I held up my hand, not wanting those images in my head.

  "Too much information."

  He laughed and walked around me.

  "It wouldn't do you any harm to get some," he said as he left the room.

  He wasn't wrong, but I had enough trust issues to keep an entire company of shrinks in business for a couple of decades. If anyone found out about my past, I'd be screwed. The witches would try and hunt me down – some to kill me, others to claim my magic as their own – and the fae wouldn't be far behind them. Even a single night with a guy was a risk. Still, Castor wasn't wrong. It had been far too long, and the itch was starting to grow unbearable. Maybe it was time to find someone who had the good sense to ask no questions and walk away when all was done.