Shadows, Maps, and Other Ancient Magic (6 page)

Beware of the sleeping dragon in the bakery kitchen.

∞

I woke up suddenly and fully aware. What had woken me and whether I’d been dreaming, I didn’t know. My bedroom was pitch dark. I reached over and tapped my phone on the nightstand to check the time. It was 4:21 in the freaking morning. I still had over half an hour until my alarm.

Then I remembered the dragon in the kitchen bakery. I stretched my dowser senses beyond the apartment wards, but didn’t taste any magic other than Kandy’s berry-infused dark-chocolate from the living room. The unknown dragon was probably still unconscious, because I was certain I would taste someone as powerful as him even through my wards.

Though, speaking of wards, something was off. I just wasn’t sure what or where.

I slipped out of bed, wiggled my toes into some flip-flops, and pulled a hoodie over my tank top and cupcake-printed pajama bottoms. The PJs were a gift from Kandy for my twenty-fourth birthday last February. Yeah, I’m a Pisces. Supposedly, that’s why I have a thing for shoes — according to a local astrologer. I brushed my fingers over the hilt of the knife invisibly strapped to my right thigh, which I slept with most nights now. My comfort blanket was a knife, so no wonder I was imagining being attacked by shadows in the alley after a couple of drinks.

I wandered out into the living room, still not knowing what had woken me. All that remained of the dozen
Flirt in a Cup —
a blackberry cake with chocolate-blackberry buttercream icing — that I’d given to Kandy as a bedtime snack were the crusted paper cups strewn across my steamer-trunk coffee table. The green-haired werewolf was snoring and sprawled out on the couch, but she woke instantly when I lightly touched her shoulder. She rolled to her feet in a smooth, silent motion behind me as I crossed through the room to the back stairs.

I couldn’t taste Scarlett’s magic, so she hadn’t come back to the apartment last night. I wondered if she was with my dad. She often came home smelling of sun and sand, but usually left me a note on the fridge. Of course, I hadn’t checked for one last night.

At the top of the stairs to the bakery, I changed my mind about the flip-flops and shucked them off my feet. Then I sidled down the stairs with Kandy close behind me. I didn’t turn on the lights. I couldn’t see in the dark as well as Kandy, but I could see well enough by the digital light coming off the various appliances to note that the kitchen was empty. No sleeping dragon.

The light was on in the office, but the door was half closed.

The tile was cool underneath my bare feet as I slipped as silently as possible past my stainless steel workstation. Then, standing an arm’s length away, I slowly pushed the office door all the way open.

The black leather-swathed dragon — if that was what he was — stood in front of my safe with his back to the door. The safe door was freaking crumpled and hanging off one hinge. He appeared to have effortlessly ripped through the multilayered wards along with the manmade steel. I seriously hoped the magical backlash had been a bitch. If it hadn’t, I’d happily make him regret destroying days of work and hundreds of dollars. The nullification of the wards was probably what had woken me. Because, even standing this close, I could barely taste his smoky dragon magic.

He turned — almost lazily, as if he had all the time in the world — toward where Kandy and I stood in the office doorway. I estimated that there was maybe seven feet between us. I could have my knife in his heart with one lunge. Except he had my map — Pulou’s map — draped over his hands. And I didn’t go around stabbing people in the heart without some witty banter first.

He was glaring at the tattooed map as though it was the bane of his existence.

“That doesn’t belong to you,” I said. “And you broke my freaking safe.”

“The freaking safe wasn’t safe enough.”

His English was heavily-accented with German, I thought. He spoke as if testing out the words.

“Hilarious, asshole. I could have left you in the alley.”

“You couldn’t have kept me out.”

“I can kick you out now … without the map.”

Kandy shifted behind me.
 

The guy’s gaze flicked to her and then back to me. “You going to set your wolf against me, witch?” he asked. “I will crush her skull with one hand.”

Kandy started laughing. “I love it when they underestimate you,” she said between chortles.

“Dragons are immune to witch magic,” he snapped. Well, that confirmed the dragon identification. Oddly, his accent was easing with each word he spoke. “That I even have to explain such things confirms that you are in possession of something you have no ability to protect —”

“Wrong species,” Kandy interrupted. “Dumb, dumb.”

He looked confused. It was difficult to maintain intimidation when confused, but he pulled it off.

So I pulled my knife.

A smile spread across his face. I ignored how this transformed him from stern, grumbly dragon into a gorgeous creature of great power. Delicious, actually. Yeah, there was nothing cute about him at all.

“Alchemist,” he whispered. His English was almost unaccented now, which was freaky weird but cool. Gold glinted across his could-be-green, but might-be-blue eyes. I’d never seen dragon magic manifest like that before. Man, his arrogance would give Kett a run for his blood money.

Kandy snorted. “Don’t dragons usually call you ‘warrior’s daughter’?”

That wiped the smile from his full-lipped, wide-jawed face. He narrowed his deep-green eyes at me.

Okay, I got that I kept noticing he was hot. Forgive me. I hadn’t had a good romp in over a year. Hell, I hadn’t had a great romp in much, much longer than that.

“Remind me not to elect you secret keeper,” I mock hissed at Kandy.

I felt her shrug behind me. “Fair fights are more interesting to watch.”
 

“Yeah, but now he’s not sure. Fight blocker.”

Kandy choked out a laugh. “Fine. You want to ruin your bakery, you go for it. He’ll hit back.”

“I will,” he said. Then he pulled the sacrificial knife out of the sheath on his right thigh.

He’d stolen my freaking knife as well.

“That’s not yours,” I snapped.

“It feels like mine.”

“Really not a point in your favor, dragon. You know, on the good or evil scale.”

“Come take it back, then.”

So I did … without taking a step. I’d been testing my alchemist powers for over a year. And I had specifically been working with the sacrificial knife, trying to figure out a way to neutralize its magic. When the neutralizing didn’t work out, I’d installed a fail-safe.

The knife, like any other magical object I constructed, was made with my magic. And my magic was tied to me. I’d found I could call an object I made back to me with a single thought. Well, a super-focused single thought. Okay, some intense thinking and coaxing. The sacrificial knife was a bit pissy, actually. It didn’t much like being held by me. Yes, it was an inanimate object, but that was what it felt like to me. Maybe I was just projecting because I was repelled by it.
 

Anyway, it had taken a bunch of coaxing and more applications of my magic. But the sacrificial knife came now at my call.

The dragon looked a little shocked to be weaponless. Then he looked more shocked to find my jade knife at his neck and the sacrificial knife poised at his heart. The fact that he had the capacity to be shocked humanized him. I tried to not notice the starburst of deep blue around his pupils.

“Not a witch, nor just an alchemist,” he murmured. His throat moved against the blade of my jade knife. He needed a shave. The blade was helpful in that regard. I tried not to smirk and failed.

“That’s my map, entrusted to me,” I said.

“This?” He held the map with one hand so I could see it. “By whom?”

“Kandy?” I prompted.

The green-haired werewolf reached over my shoulder and flicked her claws in the guy’s face before she carefully took the map from him. He flinched and looked like he was thinking about not letting go of it, but he did.

“You think that knife can pierce the heart of a dragon, warrior’s daughter?” he asked, heavy on the sarcasm. For someone who might have just learned English, then adapted his accent to match mine, he sure picked up speech nuances quickly.

“You held it, dragon. You tell me.”

He held my gaze for a moment. Then he leaned into me — pressing against both blades, the jade knife at his neck and the sacrificial knife at his heart. I ignored the instinct to back off even as the jade blade drew blood and the sacrificial knife cut through his dragon leathers like soft butter. He hissed and curled his lip at me.

Then he took a step back, his gaze still locked to mine. He lifted his hand and wiped the blood from his neck. Besides the blood, his skin was unblemished. He healed as quickly as Kett, and much quicker than I did. He let go of my gaze to stare at the blood on his hand. He looked bemused.

I lifted my jade knife vertically, drawing his attention as I watched a drop of his blood slide down the hilt. Then I reached out with my alchemist powers, and with a single lick of magic, I absorbed the blood into the blade. I felt the dragon’s magic dissipate through the knife, then settle.
 

The guy grunted in surprise, but then tried to cover. I’m guessing he’d never seen an alchemist in action before.

I took a step back, twirling the knife and its new pulse of power in my hand. Then I sheathed it. The dragon watched me, dissecting my every move. That’s what Branson the sword master had trained me to do. I kept hold of the sacrificial knife in my left hand but allowed it to hang by my side.

Then I waited.

The dragon rolled his shoulders and his neck. Then, having made some decision, he huffed out an exasperated sigh.

“Warner, sentinel of the instruments of assassination, son of Jiaotu, guardian of Northern Europe,” he said. His tone was formal but his bow was limited to a tilt of his chin.
 

I had no idea what ‘sentinel’ or ‘instruments of assassination’ meant. Sure, I’d been studying, but the nexus library was insanely huge. I could devote my entire life to it and still not get through a single row. Though, granted, I’d been rather focused on Blackwell and figuring out the proper way to ‘reclaim’ his circlet. Hell, figuring out how to seize the sorcerer’s entire collection would have been even better.

Kandy stepped up beside me. “Kandy, werewolf, enforcer of the West Coast North American Pack.” She snapped her teeth on the ‘k’ in pack and I stifled a smile. The green-haired werewolf had a real loathing of formalities.

Warner inclined his head in Kandy’s direction but kept his gaze on me.

“Jade Godfrey, granddaughter of Pearl Godfrey, Convocation chair,” I said. Then I raised my chin just a little more. “Daughter of Yazi, warrior of the guardians, guardian of Australia.”

Warner started to sneer at this proclamation, but he managed to control his expression. “Child of a witch and a guardian?” he asked doubtfully.
 

“I was unaware that Jiaotu had any children,” I countered. “You look nothing like him.” Jiaotu was as white blond and almost as pale as Kett. He was also fast ‘friends’ with Suanmi. He’d witnessed me dragging a demon into the nexus, of course. Then he’d been an asshole to Kett and outraged over my heritage. Since then we hadn’t spoken.

Warner’s face blanked. “She and I are very alike,” he said, enunciating his words carefully.

“She?”

“What year is it?”

I glanced at Kandy. She curled her lip at me questioningly.

“2014. September 19th,” the werewolf answered. “You’re crashing my belated birthday party.”

Warner let out a pained breath. “Four hundred and fifty years,” he whispered.

“That’s a lot of time to be missing,” Kandy said, putting together the pieces of the conversation quicker than I did. “Why show up now? Here?”

“It’s my duty to protect the location of the instruments,” he answered doggedly, as if he might be trying to convince himself. “No matter what year you claim it to be.”

“Instruments?” I asked.

He lifted his hand and pointed a finger at the map Kandy still held. “Where did you get that?”

Kandy tilted her head, suddenly more interested in than wary of Warner. But I’d felt his magic spread through my knife. I wasn’t so quick to relax around someone who held that much power in a single drop of blood.

“Tell him the rest of your title,” she prompted.

I hesitated. Then, trusting the werewolf’s judgement, I said, “Alchemist. Hunter for the treasure keeper, Pulou. Do I need to elaborate?”

He shook his head, clearly not happy with my ‘job title.’ “You’re not powerful enough to hold such a thing,” he said, referencing the map.

“I believe she just established her dominance, dragon,” Kandy growled. Then, to prove her point, she turned her back on him and crossed into the kitchen. She rolled the map as she did so, tucking it into the elastic band at the small of her back.

Knowing a werewolf game when I saw one, I followed her, flicking on the kitchen lights as I did so.

“I would speak to the treasure keeper,” Warner called after me.

“Go for it,” I said as I crossed around the stainless steel workstation to the bakery fridge.

Warner followed us out of the office, his gaze sweeping the kitchen to identify the two exits. “You will take me to the nearest portal.”

Kandy, her back still to Warner, climbed up on a stool that was reserved especially for her. She laid her head in her arms as if taking a nap.

I pulled butter out of the fridge.

“What are you doing?” Warner asked through gritted teeth.

“Baking,” I answered. “It’s my shift. And I’m already awake, aren’t I?”

“Baking? Baking?” he echoed, getting angry now. “The warrior’s daughter, the treasure keeper’s hunter, bakes? Bakes what?”

“Tasty cupcakes.” Kandy smacked her lips together for emphasis.

“Cupcakes!” he bellowed. “You have triggered the shadow scouts with your ineptitude and blatant disregard —”

“You think he’d be thanking us, hey alchemist?” Kandy said. Then she turned to sneer at Warner. “I get what ‘sentinel’ means. That’s your job. You work for the dragons, and so does Jade.”