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Forgotten Magic (Stolen Magic Book 1) Page 2
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The Jackal and Crown was a bar for people like me. Thieves, bounty hunters, and other people who didn't necessarily work within the confines of the law. I'd donned my favourite tight jeans and ankle boots, pairing them with a low-cut red shirt that hugged my curves. My kind of people were the most likely to understand the strict no-questions rules, and some of them were pretty damn hot. The kind of fitness our work required, not to mention the kind of cosmetic magic the money allowed for, had many upsides.
I walked through the magical security system that was wrapped around the old brick building. The web of magical threads ran over me, making sure that I was on the owner's list of acceptable people. The magic was thorough. It dug down into my own magic to check my signature against my life essence. There had been a few people who'd screwed around and tried to fake a magical signature of someone who was allowed in. Maggie hadn't taken very kindly to that.
The interior of the bar was rough and homey. The floor had a few scuffs and more than a few old blood stains. Round dark wooden tables, which had seen better days, and heavy wooden chairs enchanted to root themselves to the floor the moment someone tried to use them as a weapon were evenly scattered throughout the square room. I wove my way between the tables, which were nearly all full. A lithe sidhe with platinum-blond hair and electric blue eyes lifted a shot glass of elven liquor to me in greeting. I gave him a small nod of acknowledgement. I'd procured some incredibly rare flowers for Varen a week ago.
Perching on my favourite stool in front of the heavy, dark wooden bar, I glanced over the familiar range of alcohols sitting on the shelf behind the bar. There was a good range present, given the shelves covered the entire back wall. My particular spot looked over the whiskeys, fae and human alike. Chewing on my bottom lip, I tried to decide if I wanted something to savour and drink slowly or something cheap to knock back and help me find a lover for the night.
"Lily, it's been too long," a rough voice said from my left.
I painted a warm smile on my face and tried not to grit my teeth. The tall muscular alpha wolf shifter looked down at me with warm caramel eyes and a small smirk. Elijah was the alpha of the Sentinels, a misfit pack that happened to specialise in the same things I did. The bastard was my biggest rival.
To my dismay, he took the stool next to me and scooted it a little closer so his knee was pressed against mine. I didn't miss the way his pale jeans hugged his muscular thigh, or how his black t-shirt was a little too tight, flaunting his impeccably toned body.
"How have you been?" Elijah asked in that smooth voice that always had a slight growl to it.
"Wonderful, and you?" I said brightly.
"I'll have a Nikka 12, double, no ice," I said to the barman.
Elijah had killed my desire to try and find a lover. I needed something I could take my time enjoying. A quiet voice in the back of my mind pointed out that shifters were known to be exquisite lovers. They were rough, sensual, and thorough.
"Laphroaig Brodir, double, no ice," Elijah said.
Of course, he had to choose a more expensive scotch. He couldn't help himself. I wasn't a fan of the Islays, myself, too much smoke and peat.
"I secured the Smythe case last week, so I'm doing very well."
Damn him. I'd been trying to figure out who'd taken that from me. The Smythe case was an easy acquisition with a ridiculously good pay-out. The money didn't matter much. It was the fact he'd stolen it from me that pissed me off.
"Congratulations," I said with a smile.
"I heard about Petr last night. It's such a shame you have to lower yourself to clientele like that," he said with fake sympathy.
He put his hand on mine and gently caressed it. I resisted the urge to yank it away. His warm calloused hand sent my mind to sinful places, the feel of it against my more sensitive skin. It really had been too long if I was starting to think of the infuriating alpha like that.
"You know me, I do enjoy a good fight now and again," I said as I took my whisky from the barman and paid him.
"And you're quite beautiful in combat, too," Elijah said as he leaned in a little closer.
His hand brushed over my thigh as he turned his attention to the barman and his scotch. I took a sip of my own whisky and closed my eyes, holding it on my tongue, allowing the taste to unfurl fully. It opened with a beautiful taste of butterscotch and poached pears. As it sat on my tongue, it opened up, revealing a rich buttery oak with just a touch of smoke and leather. When I opened my eyes and swallowed, I was left with a lingering taste of spice and a little cocoa. It was exactly what I needed.
Elijah was watching my face, his eyes dancing as he breathed in the scent of his own scotch. I should have been embarrassed, but I refused to feel shame about enjoying things.
"I heard the pack was moving down to Cornwall," I said casually.
Elijah laughed, a melodic sound that easily filled the increasingly small space between us.
"Why would we do that when we have such a good reputation and base here?"
Because that would have made me extremely happy and opened up my own client base.
"It did seem like an odd rumour," I said with a shrug.
Elijah's smirk returned. "You'd miss me."
I rolled my eyes.
"How do you fit your ego through the door?"
The golden lights overhead dimmed a little, drawing the shadows over Elijah's sharp cheekbones and strong jaw and deepening the colour of his almost midnight-black hair. He was almost fae beautiful, but there was a roughness, an edge to him that made him far sexier than the otherworldly stunning fae could ever be. The problem was, he knew it.
"Is it really ego if it's based on fact?"
I laughed. To my irritation, his entire face lit up as he grinned roguishly at me.
"Yes, I'm afraid it is."
"You should laugh more often. It's good for the soul," he said softly.
A shiver ran down my spine as the alpha bravado slipped for just a second and I saw gentle affection shining in his eyes. It snapped back into place as he took a sip of his scotch and flexed his arm, reminding everyone just how powerful and toned he was. He was the last person I should have been looking at like that, but damn him I couldn't help myself.
Four
Elijah had remained next to me for the duration of my time in the Jackal and Crown. I'd left after only one drink, not wanting to give him anything to use against me. Castor made his way home somewhere around lunch time the following day. I'd finished reading my book, cleaned the house, and restocked the cupboards by the time he walked in through the front door. He gave me a lazy grin.
"Well, your head's still attached," I said.
He laughed.
"You need to find yourself a half-kelpie. You'll be a new woman by the morning."
My mind flitted back to Elijah, the wicked glint in his eye as his hand grazed my thigh.
"You already found someone!" Castor accused me.
"Any new work? Or am I free for the day?"
Castor pulled his phone out.
"You have an appointment in a couple of hours. A ‘Vivienne Briggs.’ A retrieval job. She refused to tell me exactly what you needed to retrieve over the phone."
A retrieval meant someone had had something expensive stolen from them and they needed it discretely returned to them. They were usually good fun, as they required sneaking, and there was the rush of stealing from another thief.
"I am going to sleep. Don't expect me to surface until tomorrow," Castor said.
"What if I need my trusty familiar for something?" I teased.
"I hear the internet has everything you might ever need these days."
"What I'm hearing is I don't need to keep feeding you expensive ice cream and letting you live here rent free..."
He narrowed his eyes at me.
"We both know that if you really needed me, I would appear in a glorious puff of smoke."
I raised my eyebrow.
"Fine, I would emerge from the closest sh
adow. It sounded better the first way though."
"Maybe you can work on the whole puff of smoke thing between your strenuous bouts of work," I said with a grin.
"Mmm."
Castor went upstairs to his room, and I knew I wouldn't see him again until the next day. He'd forwarded me what scant details he'd gotten from the client. She was a wealthy sidhe with connections to the courts, although she didn't engage directly in the politics herself. I hated getting too close to the fae courts. They were complicated and far too prone to attempted assassinations. It looked as though she was far enough from them to keep me safely away from all of that.
I pulled out my laptop and had a quick search of the general public internet for news about big thefts. Nothing popped up. Next came the hidden groups and sites where people like me visited. There were a few hints and whispers about something big having gone missing, but no one shared details. She'd kept it all thoroughly hidden, which meant she'd expect me to be very discrete. That could be exhausting. I was soon hoping for a quick and easy job.
My office was about half an hour away from home, and I hated being late for a client. It made an awful first impression. Dressing in a flattering slate grey suit which brought out the green in my eyes, I headed over to the office. Traffic was light, thankfully. I made my way through the heart of the city, where colourful graffiti graced the walls down near the coastline. Some people hated it, but I adored the vibrant art. Each piece was a complete work that covered an entire building. The two people reaching across a wide forest always caught my attention. Maybe I was lonelier than I liked to admit.
It hadn't been easy living the way I did. I hadn't been able to risk any real friendships, other than Castor who I suspected knew more about what had happened than I did. If it did all come out, then those friends would be in mortal peril, and I couldn't face having that on my conscience. The best-case scenario was the witches tried to have me condemned to death after they stripped me of my magic. They would never believe what had really happened, and if they did then they'd want to chain me up and steal my magic as their own.
Witches were almost as cut throat and brutal as the fae. They were dedicated and loyal to their bloodlines, but anyone outside of that was game. Whatever it took to preserve the purity of the bloodline and grow the coven businesses. As far as I was aware, everyone believed that night was an awful accident, a ritual gone terribly wrong. While it pained me to not have access to the money the coven had locked away, it was better that way. I could live my life as though the backstory I'd invented were real.
People thought that Lily Harper came from a small coven in Dartmoor. They had decided to move to Norway, where they'd been offered an incredible business opportunity. Being sixteen and of no real importance to the coven, I'd left and struck out on my own in Brighton. It was easy enough to believe, as I was in fact a witch, and the coven I told them I was from had in fact moved to the heart of the Norwegian wilds where no one could contact them and check.
I pulled up in front of my office building. It was a sleek modern building with lots of steel and glass. The beauty of Brighton was how eclectic it was. The faux palace in the middle of the park didn't stand out amidst the older brick buildings, the winding narrows, and the other strikingly modern glass and steel buildings. It all came together to form something distinctly Brighton.
Five
Vivienne Briggs was an older sidhe, somewhere close to a thousand if I had to guess. Her delicate bone structure complete with painfully sharp cheekbones was flawless. The fae were all beautiful, but the sidhe were striking with their fine bones and sharp, often jewel-toned eyes. She brushed her hands over her knee-length silk skirt and waited for me to gesture to the high-backed leather chair on the opposite side of my broad oak desk.
"Ms. Briggs, what can I help you with?"
"They tell me you're the best, and you're discrete.” She spoke with a very soft Dublin accent.
"I am, yes."
She gave a small nod and rested her hands in her lap, sitting with her back straight and her chin raised. Her dark-brown hair shone with a deep red tone in the afternoon sunlight, giving some warmth to her otherwise cool complexion.
"They stole two items. A vial of unicorn blood, and a shadow stone."
I maintained a poker face. Unicorn blood could be used to break any magic, including that running through someone's veins. It would make any fae very ill and stop a shifter from being able to shift for anything from an hour to a week. It was potent and incredibly rare. The shadow stone was more difficult. It was supposedly a hardened and purified piece of pure shadow taken from the shadow plane. I wouldn't know if that was true without laying my hands on it. People believed it to be true, but shadow walkers such as myself were so rare no one could tell them otherwise.
I noted that down in her file on my laptop.
"Do you have any enemies or suspects?"
Her jaw tightened, and she remained silent for a long moment.
"I would rather not cast aspersions when they might be wrong."
"I understand that, but if you have a known enemy then it would be a logical starting place."
"There is no one person who stands out. Many people would like to get their hands on those objects, though."
I made a note to look into Ms. Briggs' connections around the fae circles. There was clearly at least one person that she had in mind, and if she wasn't going to tell me herself then I'd have to start digging.
"Was there any evidence?"
"None that I could find. I'm having a party tonight, but you may come over tomorrow and inspect the area for yourself."
I tried not to wrinkle my nose. Who knew what the party would do to the scene.
"Thank you, that would be useful."
"Eleven am."
I jotted that down. There was no point in bowing up in the road and trying to act as though I had lots of plans. People like her were used to the world revolving around them.
"Is there anything else I should know?"
"No. That is everything I can think of."
She stood up and went to leave, any questions I might have had be damned.
"I take a fifty percent fee upfront," I said.
She stopped and slowly turned back towards me.
"Of course."
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. I opened it to make sure that it was cash and not plain paper or something. It wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to trick me into working for free. My magical senses didn't show any signs of a glamour. It was real cash.
"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
She have a sharp nod and left, closing the door behind her. I was getting the distinct impression that she was going to be a pain in my ass.
The first thing I did was head over to the hidden parts of the internet and begin looking around for enemies she might have had. On the surface, she was a good upstanding woman that everyone adored. It took an hour to get beneath that and find her rivalries. She'd worked very hard to keep her reputation clean. Her ties to the courts were well hidden, but present. The enemies and rivals I'd been able to find were unscrupulous people. Those with a lot of money and very few ethics.
My stomach growled. It was time to find some food and let this tick away in the back of my mind. I needed to tread carefully so as not to alert too many people to what exactly I was looking for. My phone buzzed. Castor had just texted saying he was getting us Chinese takeaway for dinner. I swear he read my mind sometimes.
Six
I spent another couple of hours digging around the less scrupulous corners of the internet to see who might have taken the items and came up empty handed. When I got up the next morning, Castor kept insisting that I go for a run before I went over to the client's house.
"What are you up to?" I demanded.
It was seven in the morning, earlier than I really liked to be up, but I wanted to sink my teeth into the case.
"I'm not up to any
thing. Don't you think it would be nice to start the day with endorphins and a few moments sitting on that concrete jetty you like?"
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"You know you're not allowed to bring women back here..."
"I am not trying to bring a woman back here," he pouted.
"Then what's your game?"
"Can't I look after my witch?"
He was leaning against the kitchen counter giving me his best wounded expression. I wasn't going to win this one.
"Fine. I'll go for a damn run."
I changed into my running wear and headed out along the coastal path, setting a quick pace for myself. Maybe it would help me figure out a connection or a lead to chase down. Really, I needed to get a feel for the scene where the items had been taken from. There could be important magical residue. The run was a few miles long, and I'd have to run back again. It was a good way to push myself and make sure that my endurance wasn't lacking.
The ocean was relatively calm that day. The skies were almost clear, the brilliant pale blue a pleasant surprise. As much as I loved Brighton, it was very prone to grey and rain. I often wondered if that was why the city adored bright colours so much. People said that the fae lady who ruled over the city brought the rain in as she loved the grey velvet lining the skies. Personally, I preferred a nice sunny day, but I wasn't going to argue with a lady. And my weather magic was weak at best.
Castor had been right, which bugged me. I slowed down and strolled to the end of the concrete jetty that I enjoyed relaxing on. The view out over the ocean was so relaxing. I could let my mind wander and work through any knots in my thoughts I might have developed. Settling myself down, I took the risk of dangling my legs over the edge. It was a risk, but a far smaller one as I was a woman. Mermaids only devoured men.