Faerie Magic (16 page)

The next match pitted Crawler against the redheaded teenage half-faerie. The match was over in less than five minutes. Crawler’s stinger went into the boy’s foot, and he fell flat, writhing in pain. The hobgoblin’s assistants carried him from the arena, where someone gave him an antidote. I guess that answered the question of whether the half-troll Crawler had stabbed last night had survived to tell the tale. If people died every night at the Trials, there’ be nobody left to compete. From the whispered conversations I’d overheard, a fair number of the candidates had entered previous rounds, too.

Once he’d stopped foaming at the mouth, the teenage half-faerie ran from the arena, towards the exit.

A weird shivering sensation went through my body. Icy tingles ran up my arms—not from the cold. From a spell. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the path to the exit was clear.

If I stayed for the final match, I’d get caught in the crush when everyone left at the end. I’d told Vance I’d get out as soon as possible. As no one was looking at me, this was my chance to slip away.

I crept along the front row—well, it did fit with my shadowy persona—and disappeared into the gap between the two ends of the seating area. Voices ahead froze my steps. I couldn’t pretend to be part of the shadows this time, so I did my best to rein in the magic swirling around me. Reacting to something.

Was
he
here?

If he was, I needed to get out. Now. I took a few more steps, and spotted the two figures standing in the shadows. One was the teenage half-faerie who’d just lost the match. The second was a taller Summer half-faerie, judging by the greenish glow of magic around his hands.

“I’m sorry,” gasped the boy. “I didn’t know—”

“You saw Crawler fight yesterday, you pathetic excuse for a spy.” The half-faerie slapped him. “You were supposed to win, you incompetent little whelp. What in the name of the Sidhe did you do with the charms?”

Damn. He’d cheated?

The boy yelped and stumbled over his own feet. “I’ll try again next week.”

“This is the last chance,” hissed the other half-faerie. “The very last. Didn’t you hear? You’ve lost your shot. We won’t get glory
or
immortality.”

I hung back, heart thudding against my ribcage. Immortality.

The half-faerie kicked the smaller guy again, then blasted him with a handful of Summer magic. He headed for the exit on light, quick feet.

I gave him a head start, then grabbed the teenage boy by the scruff of his neck and dragged him after me. I was improvising, of course, but I’d be a fool not to take the chance to question him.

My hand slapped over his mouth as he tried to scream. “Quiet,” I hissed, stopping halfway down the corridor, just beside the exit. “Pipe the hell down if you don’t want worse than a poisonous spike in your foot.”

He stared at me with bulging eyes, and I slowly lifted my hand. “What the hell was that about?”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Someone put you up to enter the Trials, right?” I said. “What did that guy mean by immortality?”

“Nothing!” he squeaked.

“I’m interested.” My heart raced, my pulse pounding, but I looked for all the world like one of the half-faeries. He’d never guess my real motive. “Tell me, or everyone will know you cheated.”

His pale face and watery eyes floated before me as my magic flared up, bright and cold. He leaned away. “Meet me after the matches tomorrow and I’ll show you. I promise.”

I released him. “If you’re lying, I’ll know.” My menacing faerie voice rang in my ears as he pelted for the exit.

I followed more slowly, hoping I hadn’t just signed my own death sentence.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I grimaced as Vance pressed a salve to my injured wrist.

“You were lucky.”

I grunted. “Tell me about it.”

I’d brought him up to speed on everything apart from the encounter in the corridor. Vance had transported us both to his office in the manor once I’d found him at the road where we’d agreed to meet. With the illusion gone, none of the half-faeries leaving the underground would have guessed my identity, even with the injuries. My knees were a bloody mess and I’d have to pretend the shredded holes in my jeans were a fashion statement, but it could be worse. Shark could have bitten through my hand, for example.

“It sounds like most are either shapeshifters or hiding something.” Vance let go of my wrist. I flexed it, standing up from the office chair. Lamplight spilled onto the bookcases and desk, casting the corners in shadow.

“Yeah, but they’re faeries. It’s par for the course.” I turned to him, glad not to be wearing a faerie’s stupid face anymore. “Speaking of hiding things, I kinda scared one of the contestants into admitting he knew about the immortality drug.”

Vance’s gaze sharpened. “Tell me.”

I quickly explained the encounter. “I’ll have to sneak out early tomorrow again. It’s not ideal, I know. Anyone might catch me. Still, it’s an opportunity to get right to the heart of this.”

Or end up face to face with Calder again.

I shivered. Damn half-faerie. I’d imagined blasting Razor aside with magic, but even in the arena, it was a pale shadow of what it might be in Faerie. Hell, even the other half-faeries’ abilities were. Except for Calder. It bugged the hell out of me that I couldn’t figure out what made him so powerful. Not just being the son of a Sidhe lord, surely.

“You can’t go alone.”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” I said. “Besides, if I can find a way to expose the illegal drug sellers, they might have to shut down the contest. I wouldn’t have to participate in the rest of the Trials.”

Vance studied me. “I’d tell you it’s risky, but you know that already.”

I nodded, kind of surprised how things had shifted so quickly. When we’d first met, he’d been incapable of not taking control, and the idea of me running around investigating behind his back grated on his nerves. Judging by his tone, he still wasn’t fond of the idea.

“I really need to learn more about my magic,” I said. “It’s not traditionally Winter. I can’t throw a blizzard or freeze the floor. I’ve heard some Winter Sidhe can freeze the air in a person’s lungs and leave them to choke, or turn them into solid ice.” I paused, thinking about what I’d done so far. Summon up a shield: check. Blast people with energy like I’d done to Velkas: check. Throw a bunch of fancy blue light around: yeah, but not particularly useful.

“You can fight with it,” he said. “It’s an elemental power, isn’t it? Maybe you can train with Wanda. She’s a frost mage.”

I blinked. “I guess… but she doesn’t know I have faerie magic.”

He gave me a look I couldn’t read. “The mages suspect your magic is unusual. They know you helped to close the veil, and it’s a matter of time before someone asks you how you did it. I thought I’d let you come up with your own cover story.”

I opened my mouth and closed it.
Damn.
I might have eased up on the
don’t tell anyone about Faerie and Avakis
issue, but the idea of word spreading like wildfire across the district’s mages didn’t appeal. After all, word might reach Calder. He might find out I was alive.

“If you continue to work with me, somebody is bound to ask you eventually,” Vance said. “I wanted to warn you in advance. A few people asked questions at the summit.”

“Damn,” I muttered. “All right. We’re going with what I first told you—I have faerie ancestors somewhere. Might be true, for all I know. I’ve never seen my family tree.”

He gave a short nod, his expression pensive. Feeling sorry for me? The aching gap my parents’ deaths had left was one problem amongst a thousand I’d had to deal with when I’d walked back from Faerie into a world changed beyond recognition. I thought about them sometimes, of course, but they were a part of the old world. My old life, before Faerie.

“Anyway,” I said, suddenly aware of the short distance between us, and the tingling sensation his hands left where they’d touched the skin of my healed wrist. “I’ll train with Wanda if she’s okay with it.”

Wanda herself once told me Vance had a protective streak, and wanted to look out for all of his mages. Guilt over what I’d withheld from him writhed inside me. I dug in my pocket for my phone. “I’ll let Isabel know I’m okay.”

“I can drop you off on your doorstep,” he said. “Just in case.” His eyes looked darker in the dim light, and a magnetic pull urged me to move closer to him.

You’re deceiving him. He’s your boss.
A hundred excuses rocketed around my head, fading to a dull buzz with every step. A whisper of coldness brushed against the back of my neck like a caress. When he took my arm and pulled me closer, the tension thickened until I could hardly breathe.

I tried to say,
I thought you said our relationship was a professional one,
but the words disappeared on the way to my mouth. Vance leaned in, lips hovering above mine.

Giving in, I arched into him, daring him to cover the last inch between us. His tongue teased me, tracing my mouth, and then slipped inside. I responded in kind, nipping at his lower lip. A growl built low in his throat, and the breeze stirring in the air lifted the hair from my head. His cool, appealing scent slid over my bones, sending a frisson of heat through my body.

A rustle of wind later and we stood on my doorstep. I swayed on my feet and would have fallen off the step if he hadn’t steadied me. For a moment, I waited, pressed against his warm, solid body. Safe, for now. God, I didn’t want to move.

“You should get inside,” he murmured, his cheek brushing against mine.

“Yeah. I should.”

Erwin the piskie flew past, shrieking, and I jumped out of my trance. Flushed and breathless, I threw a ‘goodbye’ over my shoulder and fled into the building. Panting, I shoved my key into the lock, but my hands were shaking too much to aim. The door opened, and Isabel jumped, concern flitting across her face.

“How’d it go?”

“Great.” In response to her raised eyebrow, I added, “As good as it could possibly go, considering. I’m fine. Several half-faeries… aren’t.”

Her gaze moved to my bloody knees. “Injuries?”

“Vance took care of them.” I followed her into the flat.

“Took care of you.” She spun to face me. “I knew you looked weird. You’re blushing.”

“I’m not,” I said.
Am I?

“You look like someone just… no way, he kissed you, didn’t he?”

My mouth parted. “Can we deal with this in the morning? I’m really tired.”

“Nice try.” She grinned at me. “I figured it was only a matter of time.”

“Do I need to run through the reasons why this is a bad idea?” I checked Irene was where I’d left her, out of habit. “I’m fighting for my life to win a chance to confront somebody who nearly killed me once already.”

“All the better reason to make the most of the good moments.”

Yeah. Normally, I hoarded those moments, but the tumult of emotion roiling through me when I thought about Vance tired me out more than the idea of another day of training tomorrow. There was a reason I didn’t get emotionally involved with anyone. Trust issues aside—not to mention the faeries’ never-ending attempts to ruin my day—I didn’t have room on my schedule for mind games. Though he might have justified his behaviour, Vance and I were on different wavelengths.

If it’s just a short time…
I shook off the thought. I couldn’t afford to be distracted. With Vance’s help or not, if I didn’t figure my magic out, there was no way I’d survive another confrontation with Calder.

***

I hit the dirt. Again.

Vance shook his head at me. “You didn’t even try this time.”

“I tried to block you with a shield,” I said. “Didn’t work.”

“Evidently.” He stood apart from me on the grass outside the manor, where we’d been for the best part of the past hour. Apparently, he’d put Drake on the front desk as his replacement to deal with clients while he worked with me.

Tension simmered, but more of the
oh shit, I have to fight another magical battle against a half-faerie tonight
variety. That was enough to deal with without considering what had happened between us last night. I wrote it off as a moment of weakness after surviving the first match, and to my surprise, Vance hadn’t mentioned it since I’d arrived. In today’s training session, I’d managed to form the magic into an unwieldy weapon, but didn’t leave so much as a scratch on Vance. He’d swatted me aside like a fly. Several times. I could hit him in hand-to-hand combat or swordplay—occasionally—but magic remained elusively out of my grasp.

Trickery was my only option left. It might get me through the Trials, but wouldn’t help me if Calder showed up again.

“Okay,” I said, back on my feet. “Hit me again.”

This time, I managed to hold my shield in place when he sent a torrent of displaced air slamming into me. I could have let the magic sharpen my instincts and speed, but didn’t. Calder had dampened my magic when we’d fought, and if we battled again, I needed to be ready to fight someone with supernatural instincts while operating on normal human speed.