1
Carrow
Guild City
“I swear it won’t bite,” said Eve, my Fae friend.
I arched an eyebrow. “It’s a dried demon head with giant fangs. It really looks like it might bite.”
She laughed. “You owe me. I know it’s gross, but I need to know where it came from.”
I scowled and looked at the severed, dried head sitting on the counter in her cluttered shop. Hundreds of charms and potion bottles lined the shelves, but I only had eyes for the head. Its skin was wrinkled, and its horns protruded upward.
“Thank God the eyes have rotted out,” I muttered. “I couldn’t handle it if it looked at me.”
Eve laughed again, and the raven who sat behind her hopped along the shelf, as if interested. Eve still claimed she couldn’t see the raven, and I didn’t push.
“Seriously, the world of magic is crazy,” I said. “Having something like this is insane.”
“Hey, it’s rare. Normally, those heads disintegrate upon the death of the demon. I need to know why this one didn’t.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Eve sold magic potions and spells that she made using her Fae power, and I did owe her for the potions she’d given me last week. Anyway, I was trying to get my business up and running, and she was my first client. If I planned to sell my ability to magically read people and objects, then I needed to start now.
“You’ve got this, mate,” Mac said, a big grin on her face.
I shot my other friend a grateful smile. Mac lived in the flat below me and could always be counted on for support. I drew in a deep breath, hovering my hand over the head. “One, two, three.”
On three, I touched the head, doing my best to control my magic and see something specific about the disgusting thing. The power surged through me, seemingly stronger than ever.
That had to be impossible though, right?
I was new to this world, but I was pretty sure magic didn’t grow stronger.
I focused on the vision.
There was a blast of light in my mind, followed by an eerie, high-pitched laugh that turned into a scream. It seared through my skull, making me wince.
I stumbled backward, shaking my hand.
“Well?” Eve asked.
“A laugh, a light.” I scowled. “That was pathetic. I’m trying again.”
I could feel their eyes on me as I approached the head once more. This kind of magic—and danger—wasn’t unusual. Unlike me, they’d been born into the magical world and had known about it their entire lives. I was a newcomer, just trying to make my way.
The skin of the dried head was papery against my fingertips as I pressed them to the skull.
“Come on,” I muttered. “See something useful.”
The light flashed again, and the laughter howled, shrieking through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to see through the bright light.
Please work.
I needed control of my power, damn it.
I saw nothing, but once again, the laughter turned into a scream.
Eve.
The scream was saying her name.
The magic faded from the air.
Shocked, I looked up. “It said your name. Screamed your name.”
Eve paled slightly, her eyes dark. She drew an unsteady breath. “Thanks, that’s helpful.”
“That’s it? This scary demon head screams your name, and that’s it?”
She shrugged. “You need to get control of your magic, though. Your signature is off the charts.”
I glared at her. “You’re changing the subject.”
“Well, we need to talk about it. But we don’t need to talk about my deal. Not now.”
“Fine.” I knew when to stop poking.
“Eve’s right.” Mac waved a hand in front of her face. “It’s like I’m lying in a freaking lavender field.”
I winced. “I know.”
All supernaturals had magical signatures—as many as five, each corresponding with one of the five senses. Powerful supernaturals had all of them, and, apparently, I was one of those. According to my friends, my magic smelled like lavender and tasted like oranges. Sounded like roaring wind and looked like a silver glow.
“Seriously, mate.” Mac said. “Everyone in Guild City has to keep their signatures on lockdown or the Council of Guilds gets a bee in their bonnet.”
“You do not want their bonnets disturbed.” Eve met my gaze. “And your magic is…”
“Weird?” I asked.
“I was going to say different,” Eve said. “There’s something about it. And considering how serious the Council is about keeping us secret from the humans, they’re not going to like the fact that you’re just letting it all hang out there.”
Damn it, this was bad. “Do you have more suppressor potion?”
“I do, and it’s all yours, but I don’t think it’s going to work.” Eve frowned apologetically. “You’ve taken too much already, and your system is used to it.”
“You’re going to have to think about joining a Guild, too,” Mac said. “Like, soon.”
“But which one?” Guild City was made up of various magical guilds, each representing one of the main magical species—fae, shifters, witches, and seers, among others.
“Whichever will have you, I guess.” Mac shrugged.
I didn’t like the idea of that, but if I wanted to stay here, I’d have to do it. Mac was a member of the Seers’ Guild, and Eve belonged to the Fae Guild, though neither lived in her guild’s headquarters.
“I’ll figure it out,” I said. “Soon.”
“It had better be, or—”
The bell to Eve’s shop jingled, and I turned.
The Devil of Darkvale stepped into the little shop, his lean, muscular form filling the door. I fought dueling instincts. Part of me wanted to step toward him. Part of me wanted to turn and run.
I stayed frozen.
In a moment, I took all of him in. The firelight scent of his magic blasted though the hodgepodge of aromas in Eve’s shop. I liked the way he smelled, but I was careful not to inhale too much.
As usual, he was impeccably dressed. He looked like a spy, an unstoppable James Bond in a bespoke suit. It was damned unfair that men’s dresswear was easy to move in and made the wearer look hot as hell.
He stood in the doorway, still as a statue. His sharp cheekbones and strong jaw could have been carved from granite, but his lips were full, the only part of him that looked soft. Even his silver eyes were hard as they surveyed us.
He was still ice, but I knew the heat underneath.
It would burn me—and not in a good way.
Where was the man who had bitten me?
I’d never quite felt anything like that before—I’d nearly lost my mind from the pleasure.
He stepped farther into the store, his movements graceful and smooth. The spell was broken. I snapped my mind away from the memory and focused on him.
The interior of Eve’s store was like her—delicate and whimsical—and he stood out like a sore thumb. All raw power and strength. The glittering faerie lights that sparkled near the ceiling veered away from him.
“What can I do for you?” Eve’s voice was flat. She didn't particularly like the Devil of Darkvale. He was Guild City’s version of the mob, and as the owner of a small shop, she was beholden to him for protection from the overly enthusiastic government—the Council of Guilds. Not to mention the Witches’ Guild. They’d have her head for selling magics like theirs if they could.