Fairy Magic (8 page)

Naomi rushed forward to him. He was alive—barely. His hair was so dirty, she wasn’t even sure what color it was. He was wearing a dress shirt that might have once been green. It was stained with blood and dirt now. His black pants were torn off at the knees, and he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“Hey, are you all right?” she asked.

He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. “Am I dead?”

“No,” she said, trying to shake his chains loose. They were firmly bolted to the stone walls. “But you will be if we don’t get you out of here.” She looked around for the keys, but found none. “What’s your name?”

“Cyrus.”

“I’m Naomi. Nice to meet you,” she said, scanning the room for the keys.

He pointed up. “Try the red button on the wall.”

She pressed it, and the chains popped open. “They put the release button so close to you?”

“Close but not close enough, just out of reach. They wanted to taunt us with the impossibility of escape. Their minds are cruel. There’s not a shred of humanity left inside of them.”

“Who are they?”

He simply shook his head, too scared to speak.

Naomi pulled him to his feet. “Is there anyone else left alive down here?”

His eyes panned across the dead bodies on the ground. “No, I’m the only one.”

Fire exploded on the wall behind them. Naomi turned to find a mage standing in the doorway, orange flames dancing on both of her hands. A manic spark gleamed in her eyes, like her mind was not all there.

“Who are you, my pretty? Another snack?” she asked, wicked delight dripping from every word.

Naomi blasted her with Fairy Dust, but the mage gave her hand a casual, almost bored flick, throwing up a wall of flames that consumed the Dust. The wicked witch was strong. And high on magic, Naomi realized, watching the anxious twitch of her body. Great, because this day didn’t already suck enough.

A river of flames poured out of the mage’s hands, rushing toward Naomi. Cyrus moved into its path, blasting the fire mage with red Fairy Dust. The sparkling magic hit her hard in the face, and she dropped unconscious to the ground.

“Thanks,” Naomi told him.

He nodded, then stumbled over to the sleeping mage. Fangs descended from his mouth, tearing into her neck. As he drank, Naomi peered into the hall to check for more guards. She found none. As she popped her head back into the dirty dungeon, Cyrus’s mouth pulled away from the mage. His hands closed around her neck, breaking it.

“More will be coming,” he said, grabbing the mage’s knife.

“How many?”

He rose slowly. He looked better. The color had returned to his cheeks. “A lot.”

“All like her?” Naomi indicated the dead mage.

“Yes. They are crazy, powerful, and juiced up on a blend of magic and drugs.”

“We need to move,” Naomi declared.

“Yes.”

“Can you run?” she asked.

He winked at her. Draining the mage had not only brought the vampire fairy back from death’s door; it had made him downright perky. “The question is more whether you can keep up with me.”

They ran down the turning hallways, making their way to the stairs. As they came around the corner, two fairies charged toward them, magic sparking on their fingertips. Naomi lifted her crossbow and fired. Cyrus tackled the other, ripping him apart with unfettered enthusiasm. As more guards, all with that same manic spark in their eyes, poured down the stairs, Naomi tapped her bracelet to activate its magic. A pale blue glow shimmered across the golden surface. Eva had a matching one. When one glowed, the other did too. It was the signal to leave.

A storm of fairy and mage magic shot toward Naomi and Cyrus. The vampires were closing in around them. Naomi and Cyrus stood back-to-back in the basement, blasting Fairy Dust at the guards. He shot again and again, his magic fueled by fury.

But it wasn’t only his anger that made him powerful. He’d been turned into a hybrid, not born one like she had. Turned hybrids had the full power of both sides of their supernatural make-up. Born hybrids had the advantage of a more seamless flow between their powers, but each power was weak. Except when Naomi had been in the spirit realm. For some reason, her power there was as strong—if not stronger than—any fairy’s magic. After fighting in that realm with all that magic at her disposal, she suddenly felt horribly underpowered here.

Cyrus blasted a hole in the wall of guards. Naomi ran for the stairs, stopping when she realized he wasn’t following. He shot at the guards again and again, his mind trapped in an endless repeating loop of revenge. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairs before he got himself killed.

As they reached the upper floor, waves of crazy supernaturals stormed across the dance floor. The guests of the gala scattered in panic. Eva and Marek stood to cover the guests’ retreat. She cast a net of Fairy Dust that a few guards ran through before realizing it was there. Marek’s fire ignited the pale pink veil of magic, snapping at the guards, forcing them to retreat.

A few of the guards had managed to cut around the magical barrier. They blasted spells at the heels of the fleeing guests. Vases exploded and curtains rose into flames. Mirrors and windows were shattering from every direction. A river of broken glass slid across the floor, carrying along chunks of concrete that had been blasted from the walls. After tonight, the nymphs would never want to open up the palace again.

Naomi took chase after the madmen, pushing herself hard to reach them before they killed the guests.

“They are all crazy,” Eva said, running beside her.

Naomi was too busy to answer. She blasted a ball of coiled Fairy Dust at a vampire. As it hit his body, the magic unraveled, swallowing him in a sparkling pink film of magic. Marek unleashed a stream of fire onto the vampire, igniting the Dust.

“They are criminals,” Cyrus said. “Very dangerous criminals.”

They pushed past the front door, taking the fight outside. The crazy supernaturals were regrouping. They poured out of every door and window of the palace, blasting magic in every direction. Fountains exploded, splattering Naomi with magic and broken stones. The giant swans honked in protest and flew up into the sky.

Just a few yards away, Marek’s car beeped in greeting. He hopped into the driver’s seat as Eva slid in beside him. Naomi tackled Cyrus into the backseat before he decided to take on the evil army. She barely had time to slam the door shut before Marek sped through the closing gates that surrounded the palace.

CHAPTER SIX

Out of Hell

CYRUS DIDN’T WANT to be brought to a safe house run by the Magic Council—or to any law enforcement agency for that matter. That probably meant he was a criminal himself. Marek wasn’t happy about that, and he was making his displeasure heard.

“Well, we can’t just drop him off on the next street corner,” Naomi told him.

“He’s been through a lot,” Eva agreed, looking back at them from the front seat.

Naomi nodded. She didn’t want to turn Cyrus in after what he’d been through, nor did she feel like playing detective to figure out what crime he’d committed. The Magic Council considered improper table manners a crime. Maybe he’d set his cake fork at the wrong spot. At this point, she just wanted to go home and take a long, luxurious soak in her bath tub. But first things first.

As Naomi turned to look at Cyrus, her thigh brushed against his. His eyes lit up. A soft purr buzzed on his lips. She did
not
have time for this. Whoever had come up with the idea to mix fairies with vampires was insane. Both had sky-high libidos. And just like these hybrids had double the magic, they had double of everything else too. That meant double the sex drive, especially after the rush of the battle they’d all just survived.

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Naomi warned him.

Smiling, he lifted his hands, then set them behind his head. “Of course, sugar.”

She kept her eyes on his hands. “Is there somewhere we can take you where you will be safe while you recover?”

“How about your place?” His gaze slid over her body. His hands were behaving for the moment, but his eyes sure weren’t. Neither was his tongue. It flicked out of his mouth to trace his lower lip.

“Do you know another vampire fairy in town named Xanthus?” she asked him.

He gave his eyes a long, exaggerated roll. “Yeah, like we vampire fairies all know one another.”

“Was that a yes?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I know him.”

“Are you two on friendly terms?”

Cyrus shrugged. “He doesn’t want to kill me.”

Good enough. Naomi pulled out her phone and the card Xanthus had handed her at Spitfire earlier tonight. God, that felt like days ago. She dialed his number.

Xanthus picked up after a few rings, his deep, seductive voice a little slice of wickedness. “Xanthus’s love line.”

Naomi choked back a laugh. “Hello, Xanthus.”

“Naomi.” His voice lifted to a more decent octave. “What a pleasure to hear from you.”

In the background, a woman was moaning. She sounded like a fairy. Naomi couldn’t tell if she was moaning in pain or pleasure. Knowing Xanthus, probably both.

“Bad time?” she asked him.

“No, of course not. Never for you, Naomi. What can I do for you?”

“I have something for you.”

“And I have something for you,” he said, his voice smooth enough to peel the clothes off a fairy. Which was probably what he was doing right now.

“Not this time, honey,” Naomi told him, coating her words with sugar. A little sugar never hurt anyone. “The something I have for you goes by the name of Cyrus. He says you know each other.”

Xanthus’s voice grew serious. “Cyrus has been missing for a week.”

“I found him dirty and bloody in a basement full of creepy psycho supernaturals. Do you think you could look after him for a bit?”

“Of course,” he replied immediately. “Anything for a friend. Meet me in front of the entrance to the underground at the central train station.”

“See you soon,” Naomi said, hanging up. “To the central station.”

Marek nodded, then sped off down the street. She’d thought the spirit realm was hell. She was wrong. Hell was being stuck inside of a car with Marek at the wheel. By the time they reached the train station, Naomi would gladly have traded this ride for a few minutes with the beasts of hell. She was glad she hadn’t challenged Marek to a race like she had the commandos. He seemed to think the tram tracks were a passing lane during times of heavy traffic.

As they pulled up to the station, Naomi spotted Xanthus waiting in front of an escalator that led underground. He was wearing a shiny gold shirt and skin-tight black jeans tucked inside his sparkling cowboy boots. Subtle he was not. His dark hair was heavily styled. It must have taken him at least an hour to arrange it so that it looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His cheeks had a warm glow over his olive skin, a sign that the vampire fairy had snacked on someone’s neck recently. Maybe that moaning fairy’s neck.

Naomi slid out of the car. Kissing the ground with relief as Marek looked on might have been a tad over the top, even for a fairy. She greeted the vampire fairy with a kiss. On the cheek, of course. There was no need to give him ideas.

“Naomi,” Xanthus said, his dark green eyes sparkling as they took her in. It looked like she didn’t have to give him any ideas. He had plenty of his own. “You look beautiful, as always. I love the dress. It’s even more stunning than the outfit you were wearing earlier. I bet you’d look even better without it on.”

“If you behave, someday you might find out,” she said with a slow arch of her brows.

Fire flared in his eyes. “How could I possibly behave with you before me?”

She caught his hand before it reached her. “You’ll just have to.”

“You are a wicked temptress.” His gaze honed in on a tear in her skirt. “I heard you were at the gala at Nymphenburg Palace when all hell broke loose.”

“How do you know that?”

“You made quite the exit. Word gets around fast. Now, if we’re not going to play…” He allowed the sentence to dangle.

She shook her head, keeping the smile planted on her face.

He sighed, his eyes burning like a man who’d been denied relief from the illness plaguing him. At least she hadn’t lost her touch.

“Is Cyrus here?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Naomi opened the door, waving Cyrus out. The two vampire fairies greeted each other with manly shoulder slaps. They shared heavy looks, the looks of survivors. Xanthus had been a prisoner of the Convictionites in London, trapped inside a tiny glass box until Naomi and her friends had saved him and the other hybrids. If anyone could help Cyrus heal from this, he could.

Xanthus turned to Naomi, his eyes hard with cold fury. “If you need help taking out the bastards who did this, you have my number.”

“Right now, I just need you to take care of him.” She looked at Cyrus. “I know you’ve been through a lot, but if you know anything about the people who took you, anything that could help us stop them, please tell me.”

“They cannot be stopped.”

“Anyone can be stopped.”

Cyrus shook his head slowly. “What do you know about hell?”

That she’d been there. No, she couldn’t say that. They might decide she was crazy. Maybe she was. Maybe she’d hit her head hard when the dark fairy had attacked, and she’d hallucinated the whole thing. Just to be safe, she answered with the standard line.

“Hell, alternatively known as the underworld or the spirit realm, is the home of ghosts, spirits, and demons,” she said.

“You’re forgetting one group,” Cyrus told her. “Criminals. When supernaturals go really bad, the Magic Council quite literally sends them to hell.”

Makani and his band had mentioned that too. What had they done to end up there?

Cyrus continued, “Those people we fought at Nymphenburg Palace were supernatural criminals banished to the spirit realm.”

“But if they were banished, how did they get out?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Back in San Francisco, Naomi and Sera had faced a demon with the power to free anyone from any circle of the spirit realm. “Is there a demon involved?”