A Little Street Magic (15 page)

T
he after-dinner plan was a movie, but ten minutes in, a friendly wrestling match over one of the throw pillows led to a makeup kiss. One kiss led to another, until we were making out like a couple of teenagers.

Logan’s shirt went first, mine following two or three kisses later. Legs tangled with his, and deep in the middle of a sweet, slow kiss, with his fingers tracing skin-shivering designs on my back, I realized the ringing phone wasn’t part of the movie. It was the regular ring, not any of the ringtones I’d assigned my friends or family.

I interrupted our lip lock just long enough to say, “I’m not answering it.”

“Okay.” His eyes were caught between pine green and gold, and he was breathing as hard as I was. Diving into another kiss, we both groaned when his phone began to ring too. He quietly growled as our kiss broke, but said, “Maybe we’d better answer them.”

Damn it. “I guess so.”

Somehow, we managed to untangle without falling off the couch. I had to head to the dining area to retrieve my phone. Logan’s was on the coffee table, and I listened as he answered it. “Hello? What? No, I’m at her place.”

My phone stopped ringing. I checked the display, and didn’t recognize the number. Going back to the couch, I picked our shirts up off the floor.

“We’re on our way,” Logan said, his eyebrows drawing down. Ending the call, he took his shirt. “They struck again.”

“Where?”

“Thorandryll’s.” He began pulling his shirt on as my jaw dropped.

“They hit an elf’s house?”

“Yeah, and killed one.”

“Holy crap.” I couldn’t comprehend the news. “How did they get in?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” He ran a hand through his hair, drawing in a deep breath. I yanked on my shirt—or actually, Damian’s because I hadn’t changed since arriving home—while he slowly exhaled. His eyes were dark again when he finished, the golden flecks hidden because the only light was from the TV. “Not exactly how I was hoping the night would end.”

Me neither, and I had the feeling we wouldn’t be feeling amorous later. But there was tomorrow, and then next day, and the one after that... “Rain check?”

Logan smiled, bending to grab his boots. “Definitely.”

“We’ll teleport.” It’d save time, and since Thorandryll liked summertime, we wouldn’t even need our jackets.

“Sounds like a plan. Do you want to drop the dogs off at my place? I have an extra bedroom now. In fact, why don’t you grab whatever you need, and just stay over there tonight?”

It occurred to me that he’d gotten used to having Terra there, and wasn’t enjoying the abrupt change. “Sure, I’ll be a couple of minutes.”

Trotting upstairs, I wondered how the hell vampires had gotten into Thorandryll’s sidhe without being detected right off the bat. The place was riddled with both elves and magic. No answer came to mind as I packed.

Back downstairs, I discovered he’d gathered the dogs’ lounging pillows together. Speck and Squishy peered out from under a throw on the uppermost one. Logan picked up the soft tower, carefully balancing the whole pile. “We’re ready.”

“I see that. Okay, everyone close and touching.” Bone and Diablo pressed Rufus between them. I hooked a finger in Logan’s belt, and touched Leglin’s neck. My hound dropped his muzzle to Bone’s back. “And away we go.”

A
bout ten minutes later, I was regretting my decision to appear unannounced on the wrong side of Thorandryll’s front doors. We raised our arms, facing a trio of elves with bows pointed at us. “Here to help, don’t shoot.”

They lowered their weapons in unison, and one stepped forward. “My apologies, Lady Discord. We’re on high alert, after this evening’s event.”

I recognized him. “No harm done, Edrel. Where do we go?”

“You’ll need an escort. A moment.” He whipped out a cell phone from somewhere, possibly thin air. Within seconds, he’d made a call and was speaking to whoever it was. “Sir, Lady Discord has arrived. Of course.”

Whisking the phone back out of sight, Edrel smiled. “Lord Kethyrdryll is on his way.”

“Thank you.” There was a bench seat, upholstered in pale green linen, against one wall. I didn’t remember it from previous visits. “Is it okay if we sit down?”

“Certainly.” As we walked over and sat, one of the other elves said something in Elvish with a faint sneer on his face. He was watching Logan closely. Edrel replied in the same language, his tone sharp. A heated exchange commenced, the third elf silently distancing himself from them by a few steps.

“Is there a problem?” I finally asked.

Edrel began to shake his head, but the other elf, a slender guy with midnight hair, narrowed his nearly silver eyes at me. “You dishonor the prince, consorting with animals.”

Pre-Do Better Me wanted to sling him into the opposite wall, sneer first. Post-Do Better Me suggested that may be a bad idea, under the circumstances, what with two other armed elves as an audience. So I smiled, finding Logan’s hand without looking, and laced our fingers together. “We’ve never met, have we?”

“No.” Midnight’s sneer deepened.

“Didn’t think so, or you’d know that you’re speaking to a clan queen.”

“You sound as though you are proud of that title.”

“Because I am.” I lifted my chin, keeping my eyes on his. “And I don’t appreciate my people being insulted.”

“Apologize,” Edrel ordered, practically hissing the word out.

“I will not.”

The third elf, who had brown hair liberally streaked with dark green, chose to speak up. “Our Prince holds Lady Discord in high regard. He will not be pleased to learn you have insulted her.”

“Or Logan.” I leaned slightly forward, lowering my voice. “You know, not so long ago, Thorandryll told me he respects Logan.”

Surprise fluttered from Logan, and his fingers twitched.

“Lord Kethyrdryll calls this shifter friend,” the third elf quietly added. “I have heard him do so.”

Midnight’s sneer had faded, but he held onto his natural arrogance. Bowing with an overdone flourish, he said, “It appears I’ve misspoken. My apologies.”

If I’d slammed him into the wall, we wouldn’t have gotten an apology. Okay, he obviously wasn’t sincere, but still. He’d apologized. “Accepted.”

Kethyrdryll came striding down the hall, and halted a few feet away to survey us. He frowned. “Is there something amiss?”

“Nope, we were just having a friendly chat.” I stood, Logan shadowing me, and walked over to the new arrival. “It’s good to see you again, in spite of the circumstances.”

“We must arrange a social visit.” Kethyrdryll smiled, taking my hand when I extended it. After touching his lips to my knuckles, he released me and turned to Logan. “Well met, my friend.”

I couldn’t resist looking over my shoulder to give Midnight a saccharine smile. The black-haired elf looked like he’d just sucked on a lemon, his lips pursed and tight.
Hah, put that in your pipe and smoke it, buddy
.

“Well met, Lord Kethyrdryll.” They did the warrior’s grip thing, genuine warmth emanating from Logan. Kethyrdryll was the only elf we’d met who didn’t act like shifters were something nasty he’d managed to step in.

“They’re expecting us, so we should be on our way.”

We followed him down the hall. I couldn’t keep from looking around, wondering if the place had gotten bigger. There seemed to be a lot more doors down each wall, and...where the hell had that staircase come from? It was a one-story building, wasn’t it? High-ceilinged rooms, but still one-story. My brain twitched.
Pocket realm, girl. Let it go
.

“It was Jeharin,” Kethyrdryll said. “The man we lost.”

My boots were the only ones squeaking on the marble floor. How did elves and shifters move so damn quietly? “We’re sorry for your loss.”

Logan’s hand slipped back around mine, and we exchanged tiny smiles as the elf responded. Our cutesiness should’ve made me want to gag, but didn’t.

“Thank you. You met him. The silver-haired lad who accompanied my brother on the mission to rescue you?”

I took a few steps before recalling the guy. He’d agreed with my idea about carrying people bits before we entered the maze, but we’d never talked beyond that. “I remember him. He seemed nice.”

“A highly skilled warrior, yet, they overpowered him.” Shaking his head, the elf opened a door on the left. “Through here.”

I balked, not looking inside. “The scene’s right there?”

“No,” Logan answered, giving my hand a light tug. “She’ll need a minute before seeing Jeharin’s remains.”

“Of course. We’ll halt before the corridors intersect.” Kethyrdryll went through the doorway, and we followed. My sense of space was taking a serious beating, because it felt like we walked farther than the outer walls would allow, before reaching steps leading down.

Logan broke the silence as we began descending. “Something’s bothering me.”

“What?”

“They broke into a pocket realm, where the sun can appear in an instant. That strikes me as really risky for vampires.”

Which reminded me... “Hey, Kethyrdryll, do you know anything about scent-blocking charms? Specifically, do they work on vampires?”

“That would depend on the skill of the practitioner. I could create a charm to mask a vampire’s scent, if the vampire who’d be wearing it was present.” He paused upon reaching the bottom of the stairs.

“They won’t work if not customized?” Maybe science was the answer then.

“Vampires live, but are not alive in the same fashion as we are. That difference prevents them from,” the elf hesitated. “It’s rather complex, actually. They’re rarely able to use magic other than natural magic, as you do. Fascinating, because vampires existed outside the natural order. The dead should not walk.”

An irrational urge to defend vamps rose, but I ignored it. It wasn’t pertinent. “Ronnie can make wards that keep vampires out.”

Kethyrdryll nodded, gesturing for us to keep moving. “Yes, magic can be used against them effectively, whether natural or other forms. As I mentioned, it’s a complex subject.”

Not too long ago, he’d explained magic to me in simple terms. “You told me that magic is energy, and that people access it in different ways.”

“And with varying degrees of competency, yes.”

“Right. If vampires are outside the natural order, how can they use any magic at all, much less ‘natural’ magic?”

A gleam appeared in the elf’s eyes, and his tone became enthusiastic. “My personal theory is that the change from living to death to undead is so abrupt, their sparks of magic aren’t shed.”

“I think you need to back up a little. Sparks of magic?”

“Every living thing has at least a drop of the energy we call magic. The majority of living things can’t access that drop, or spark. It’s too small and weak,” he said.

“Okay.” I let that settle for a few seconds. “Does that mean I have more drops than say, Damian?”

“Yes. Your magic is an ocean compared to his puddle. Or for different imagery, you have a boulder of magic, while he has a pebble.”

My forehead was wrinkling. “How can I have so much magic, yet my parents don’t have any? Or I guess, they only have sparks?”

“That is a matter of...what is the word?” He rubbed his chin, his eyes briefly narrowing. “Oh, genetics.”

Hello, science territory. I hoped he kept things simple. “I don’t think I get it.”

“A child is the sum of combined genetic material from two parents. Not all of that genetic material is active, and some that is active is suppressed due to one parent’s genes being more dominant.” Kethyrdryll glanced at me, and I nodded to let him know I was following along.

“I believe it’s entirely possible that centuries of inactive or suppressed—no, that’s not the correct word, what is it? Oh—recessive genetic material passed along will become active or dominant under the right circumstances.”

Logan asked the question I was beginning to put together to ask myself. “Who’s capable of manipulating things to make sure the right circumstances occur?”

“Well, Nature of course, and I suppose the gods as well. After all, they are the purest expression of magic in the world.”

My scalp prickled, and goosebumps broke out on my arms. “Petra told me that she thinks I’m the product of an intensive breeding program, because of the,” I paused, trying to recall her exact words. “The lack of dilution in my bloodline. She doesn’t think it’s a coincidence I have so many abilities, considering the passage of time from Sundering to Melding.”

“Ah.” The elf sobered. “I see.”

“Back to the subject, that means gods are at the top of the magical food chain. Natural mages are second?”

“As far as being conduits for magic, yes. In practice, age and experience do matter.”

“Right.” That probably meant overall, elves were in second place, and would be for a while. Vamps or mages in third? I didn’t have time to ask, because the low murmur of voices reached us.

“It’s just ahead to the left,” Kethyrdryll said.

“Thanks for the warning.”