Lost Magic (Stolen Magic Book 3) Read online

  I'd had the importance of maintaining your surroundings and resources drilled into me from a young age. If you removed all of the life and magic from around you then you'd have nothing to pull on when you needed it most.

  "There was an older guy carrying something. It looked heavy. He watched the woman with blondish hair turn away from the building before he snuck in. She was staring at her phone before she ran away like something was on her tail. The guy, he looked like he had money. He wore those fancy trousers guys wear into offices, and a nice button-down shirt. I think the thing he was carrying was a body. I didn't go in and look too closely. He left not long after. I don't know who they were. I didn't see any faces."

  Well, that confirmed our theory that there were two people in play. It sounded as though they were acting independently, but we couldn't be completely sure of that.

  I stood up and let the guy go. He'd given me everything he had; there was no reason to harm him. Looking around, it appeared that the local coven disagreed.

  "I suggest you run fast, and far," I said before I turned and walked away.

  We were finally getting somewhere.

  "The body was brutally mutilated. It was hard to see real details, given the charring, but it appeared that the chest was smashed. As in, the sternum was resting against the spine. Whoever the person was would have had a huge gaping hole in their chest. I hoped they died before that was inflicted. This means that the murderer is escalating. They're growing more violent. We need to try and see if anyone's noticed missing partbreeds," Liam said.

  I'd managed to confirm that the latest body was another fae partbreed. That meant the murderer had a type. The problem was, the partbreed community wouldn't talk to someone like us. We were the enemy, or if not the enemy then people who helped keep them where they were. I didn't blame them, but it made trying to find the killer more difficult.

  "And the symbols?" Elijah asked.

  We'd returned to the office. Everyone was settled in their preferred seats. It almost felt a little too casual as I leant against Elijah and watched Liam peer at the screen of his laptop for a long moment. We were hunting down a murderer and an arsonist.

  "There are even more of them this time. I've sent the paint off to be analysed. I suspect it will have been too heavily contaminated to give us something we can really use, but I had to try. The symbols now cover every major god tied into fire, and even more phoenix symbols. Whoever this arsonist is must be desperate to reach something tied into fire. I believe, but I'm not certain, that they're trying to become a phoenix witch. There was a rumour spread around quiet dark corners of the internet a couple of years back that if you could get the attention of a phoenix they would bless you and allow you to become a phoenix witch. Of course that's complete bollocks, phoenix witches are born when a phoenix crumbles to ash," Liam said.

  "Why would someone want to become a phoenix witch? I thought they were hunted and kept as pets and weapons by the upper fae?" Elijah asked.

  "Power? If they feel weak and out of control in their life, maybe they're grasping onto some dream," I said.

  "That's a big dream. Why don't they just dream of being a normal witch? Or a CEO?" Jess asked.

  She had a point, but we couldn't possibly know the arsonist's motivations until we caught them.

  "So the witness saw two people. An older guy who sounded like he had some money, but not necessarily rich. He was the one carrying the body. The potential arsonist was a younger woman," I said.

  "I'm working on some stuff to see if we caught their faces on any cameras," Liam said.

  Once again, I hadn't been able to pinpoint any magical signatures or even figured out exactly what type of magic had started the fire. I was beginning to think that it had to be from a weird artifact, or some alchemical hodgepodge of things. That meant that the arsonist might have some alchemical training, which narrowed things down a little.

  "Can we get a list of alchemists and trainee alchemists with an interest in phoenixes?" I asked Liam.

  He raised an eyebrow at me and looked mildly offended.

  "I'll take that as a yes."

  "Brutality like that doesn't come from nowhere. Whoever the murderer is, he has something big against these fae partbreeds. I'll see if I can find anything on murders committed by a partbreed," Rex said.

  "I love it when a plan comes together," Jess said.

  We all looked at her.

  "You know you're meant to say that at the end... right?" I asked.

  Jess frowned at me.

  "Dammit."

  I bit back a laugh. She was so earnest I didn't want to be cruel.

  "So, what's everyone doing from here on out? Varehn's acting like he's ahead of the game. He took something from the most recent burn, which could open up the entire thing for him," Elijah said.

  "I'm going after that lone elf that he hired. Taking out the kitsune gave us a little breathing room, but we can't afford to have the mercenaries getting in the way again," I said.

  "I'm digging into the symbols and checking for alchemists with a thing for phoenixes," Liam said.

  "I'll see if I can get some partbreeds talking," Rex said.

  "I'm going to try and steal back whatever Varehn stole," Jess said.

  "I'm waiting on a few things, so I'll join you with the elf," Elijah said.

  A thrill ran through me. I was weirdly looking forward to fighting with him at my side again. Was that the bond? Or was I just enjoying kicking ass a little too much? I shrugged to myself. It didn't really matter at the end of the day. We were figuring this thing out, and Varehn would regret ever challenging us.

  Twenty-Three

  The hunt for the elf turned out to be more complicated than I'd initially thought. This whole ‘tracking people down’ was more difficult when people weren't talking to me. In the past, Castor would have helped me, but Castor wasn't there anymore. I was really missing his company and help when I contemplated closing the laptop and taking a nap. I'd headed back home for a little comfort and the ability to hit the punch bag if it came to it.

  "Come to dinner with me," Elijah said.

  He'd changed into a nice pair of slacks and a button-down shirt that brought out his beautiful eyes. I, on the other hand, looked a mess. My jeans were splattered in blood from I-wasn't-sure-where, and my shirt had developed a hole near the bottom seam.

  "Let me get changed."

  Spending a couple of hours out somewhere just Elijah and I was exactly what I needed right then. The case and the problems we were having were starting to wear on me. I hated seeing the pack run ragged, and knowing that the people I usually leaned on were so willing to turn on me pissed me off. Once this was all over and done with, I was going to have to have some firm words with my usual contacts. We weren't what you'd call friends, but I'd paid them well enough in the past. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I needed to take Rex's approach and break a few bones instead.

  Standing in front of my wardrobe, I tried to decide on what to wear. I was torn between smart jeans and shirt, which would be practical should mercs crash the date. Or, a pretty dress to really escape for a few hours.

  The dress won in the end. Screw everything. I needed a couple of hours to feel pretty and put everything aside. So much had been weighing on me that I needed to escape for a little bit. The silk dress hugged my figure in all the right ways while remaining classy and elegant. I pulled my hair up into a simple twist and finished it all off with a pair of killer heels.

  Practical? Not in the slightest. Sexy as fuck? Absolutely.

  Elijah watched me with an increasingly broad smile as I walked down the stairs to him.

  "You look stunning."

  "I know," I said with a grin.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me deeply, an increasingly rough and teasing kiss that led me to wonder if perhaps we should stay home instead. There was plenty of fun to be had while we had the place to ourselves, after all.

  "Where are you taking me?"
I whispered.

  "Bed, if you keep this up," he said huskily.

  I pulled back with a wicked grin.

  "Nuh-uh, I deserve a nice date."

  "In that case I'm taking you to Chez Christoff. We have a nice little corner table."

  He was spoiling me. Chez Christoff was one of those places with a nine-month waiting list. It was somewhere people saved up to go to and went there purely to be seen. I'd heard the food was incredible but hadn't had the patience to try and get a table for myself. When Elijah did things, he made sure to do them right.

  There was a cluster of people dressed up in their finest waiting outside of the restaurant desperately hoping for a cancellation. I couldn't imagine being so desperate to be seen that I'd stand out in the street like that. We walked through the front door with Elijah's arm around my waist and polite smiles on our faces.

  The interior was a little more classical than I'd expected. The ceiling had been painted in a complicated mural depicting a scene of the fae courts. I didn't have chance to really look at it and take in the details as the maître d’ approached and took Elijah's reservation details. He'd said in the car that this had been a spontaneous thing given we hadn't been able to really relax and spend some quality time together. I wasn't sure I wanted to know how many favours he'd had to call in to get what I considered to be the ideal table on an hour's notice.

  The other patrons watched us as we made our way past the dark hardwood tables with high-backed chairs and what appeared to be silk cushions. They were each dressed in bold colours with flashy jewels at their throats and on their hands. I personally found it all to be very gaudy, but if you were going to flaunt your status and cash I supposed there was no reason to do it by half. A platinum-blonde pixie looked me up and down in my simple dress and raised an eyebrow. I returned the gesture, drinking in the ruffles, the brilliant pink, and the triple-stranded diamond necklace around her throat. She was the epitome of classlessness in my mind.

  We were seated in a quiet corner seat, giving us some reprieve from the looks and whispers of the mostly fae clientele in the rest of the restaurant. Our waiter brought us a pitcher of ice water and menus. The sommelier brought over the wine menu and asked if we would like some tips. To my surprise, Elijah not only declined but offered me some suggestions to go with the foods he knew I was most likely to pick. I'd known that he was cultured - he had good taste in whiskey, after all - but I hadn't given the alpha enough credit.

  "Once this ridiculous mess is over, we'll take a vacation somewhere." He took my hand in his. "Somewhere peaceful where we don't have to worry about appearances. A nice beach-side cottage, perhaps."

  "With no mermaids or selkies in the area," I said with a wry smile.

  "Of course. Although, we couldn't be away for too long. I don't want to know what trouble Jess and Rex would get into."

  Images of complete chaos and destruction formed in my mind. I could see Jess glitter bombing half the city.

  I ordered a simple duck breast for my main and left the starter as I wanted room for multiple desserts. I had my priorities straight. Elijah's wine pairing was absolutely perfect. The soft blackberry notes complimented the rich duck beautifully. It was a good thing I'd already decided to keep him.

  "We'll get through this together, you know. I see the struggle in your eyes. Is there any way we could bring Castor back into the fold? Or is there anything I can do to take some weight from your shoulders?" Elijah asked softly.

  The gesture was sweet and very much appreciated. I didn't know what to tell him, though. The goddess problem was firmly mine, and the more time I spent with the pack the more guilt I felt at having brought that to their door. They were strong and skilled, but she was still a fallen goddess. The pain of losing them, especially to her, would be unbearable.

  "We need to figure out this arsonist problem. Having the court playing games with us pisses me off. I admit, there have been moments when I've been tempted to take Rex's approach and head to the court to give them a piece of my mind." I put my hand up. "I won't, I promise. I've been sorely tempted, though. We're not toys. And this shit is exactly what people bitch about with fae. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those who wants to kick them back to Fae, but there are brief moments when I can understand their sentiment."

  "And witches are better, are they? Your kind hack people up and sell their constituent parts," a posh woman's voice said from behind me.

  I reflexively picked up my steak knife. When I realised, I plastered a sweet smile on my face and slowly turned to face her.

  "I'm afraid this is a private conversation. If you don't find your manners and stop eavesdropping, I'll be left with no choice but to make you," I said in my most syrupy tone.

  It wasn't befitting of our surroundings, but she had no right to listen, let alone intrude like that. No, witches weren't perfect, but that didn't give her the right to intrude on our private moment. Maybe I should have dragged Elijah into a sparring session instead of thinking I could relax into a place like that.

  The woman's mouth dropped open before she huffed and turned her back on us.

  "Would madam like to see the dessert menu?" the waiter asked.

  "I'll take one of everything. To go," I said.

  "And sir?"

  "The cheque and another bottle of this wine."

  The waiter nodded and left without another word.

  "Our quiet time isn't over yet," Elijah assured me.

  I didn't know if I could find the peaceful feeling I'd had earlier. The frustration at everything was bubbling up and refused to go back into whatever hole it'd been buried in before. This court bullshit was just another case of people playing with me, with us. I hated being controlled and toyed with, and yet it had happened my entire life. The court, the goddess, Castor to some extent, and now the lord and his little friends.

  The only problem was, there was no way out.

  Twenty-Four

  Elijah had driven us out to a beautiful spot on the cliff tops. He pulled a blanket out from the trunk of his car. I noted that the trunk also had a variety of swords and knives neatly tucked away. We settled down on the blanket at the edge of the cliff looking out over the ocean. Elijah laid out the eight desserts and bottle of wine. To my surprise, he had a pair of tumblers sitting in his glove box. He really was prepared for this moment.

  Thankfully, the peace I'd discovered earlier did return as we shared a still-warm brownie with gooey interior and a beautiful spun-sugar nest. It was rich, decadent, and not too sweet. I turned to Elijah to thank him for his thoughtfulness and the effort he'd put into the evening. My heart was swelling for this man. I didn't know quite how it had happened, but I'd somehow fallen into the arms of someone that I was looking forward to enjoying centuries of exciting life with.

  He reached across and gently wiped a crumb from the corner of my mouth, a warm smile upon his mouth.

  "I love you," I whispered.

  The words weren't easy to say. I almost tripped over my own tongue, but they needed to be said. He deserved to hear how deeply I felt for him, how hard I'd fallen.

  "I love you, too."

  I was tempted to initiate some carnal fun to remove the tension that had built within me at such an admission, but that would have dissolved it. That wasn't fair on him. Instead, I picked up a beautiful slice of lemon tart. The moment stretched between us with the warm glow in his eyes where he watched me with complete adoration. As a little girl, I'd dreamt of such things, but I'd quickly accepted I'd never experience it for myself. Sitting there living it was a completely different experience. I wanted to pinch myself.

  We took our time enjoying the desserts, each of which was a work of art. I could understand why Chez Christoff charged such large sums of money. They were worth every penny. At least, their desserts were. The wine was savoured as we cuddled with the waves crashing against the cliffs beneath us. Somewhere in the distance, the song of a siren could be heard on the gentle breeze.

  As much as I
hated myself for it, I kept waiting for a hydra or something to come and ruin our beautiful moment. After a couple of hours of relaxing in each other’s arms without needing to say a word, the antsiness won out. I wanted to be someone who could give myself over to that and really embrace the beauty of the moment and our bond. I just wasn't. We were in the middle of a case, and I needed to get back out there and hunt down that cursed elf.

  Once I was done with him, I was going to find that arsonist. Hopefully, Liam had managed to catch something on one of the cameras.

  Liam shot out the front door to greet us on the driveway when we got home. He bounced on the balls of his feet with a tablet in his hands as he waited for us to get out of the car.

  "I think he might have something," I said.

  "I hope so. I don't like Varehn crowing that he's winning."

  "I found her! The woman that guy mentioned! It took a lot of digging, but I caught a glimpse of her on one of the cameras. Then I did a deep dive into some databases, forums, and things you don't care about. I have an address for her. She's an alchemist with a known love of phoenixes."

  "Name and address," Elijah said as he returned to his car.

  A thrill ran through me. This was it. We had her, and Varehn was going to hate it. Assuming he hadn't figured it out before us, that was.

  "Nia Webster. Address on your GPS."

  "Thanks, Liam!" I called out before I got back into the car.

  If she was an alchemist, there was a chance she'd have some alchemical protections around her place. Her love of phoenixes led me towards thinking she'd be using fire. So, I pulled on the ocean magic as we flew down the coastal road towards the border between Brighton and Hove. Holding the tumultuous water magic wasn't particularly easy, but I grasped onto as much as I could and stuffed it into a spare vial I'd tucked into the pocket in the passenger door a couple of weeks back. Elijah wasn't the only one who could think ahead and prepare for these eventualities.