Faerie Magic (14 page)

I turned to the Mage Lord. “All right. Let’s dance, pretty boy.”

“Pretty?” Vance sounded insulted. He wasn’t a faerie, that was for damn sure. He was probably the same height as one of them, but even the fey warriors carried a certain delicateness to their fine-boned features. Nothing about Vance Colton could be called delicate, from his broad-shouldered frame to the carved lines of muscle visible through his skin-tight shirt.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Ready? You look lost in thought. Worried?”

“Worried about facing a horde of angry half-faeries? Me?” I faked a smile, readying my sword. We circled one another, neither willing to make the first strike. I knew as soon as I did, he’d block me, so I watched for an opening. There wasn’t one.

“This is a duel, not a dance-off,” I muttered, feeling like an idiot.

“A dance-off,” he repeated, amusement flickering in his expression.

“Gah. Just hit me already.”

I was prepared for the hit, but I staggered back several steps as I blocked him. He grinned at me. “Regretting this?”

“Not a chance in hell.” I stood my ground, already sweating. I’d sworn not to use my magic to give myself enhanced speed, but it was tempting right now.

Damn, he was good, even without using his ability. He moved fast, fluidly, fighting equally well with both hands. I held him off only because my style tended to work best when I was on the defensive.

The blunted end of his sword touched my throat. “Do you surrender?”

“This is where I’d use magic and blast you.”

“And if I blocked it?”

I barely held back a flinch. Blocked my magic. Or smothered it. Damn Calder.

“Most faeries can’t fight with swords. The odds of me coming up against one who can are pretty low.”

“That’s not a good attitude to have,” he said. “Odds in your favour or not, you’d be dead.”

“All right, Sir.” I rolled my eyes.

“Just being honest.”

I know,
I thought, angry with myself for giving ground.

“Ivy? Want to try again?”

Damn him. “Sure.”

I lost again because I was so rattled. And again. Finally, I threw the practise sword aside. “Hit me with magic.”

“What? You’re giving up?”

Magic rose, blue smoke wrapping around my arms. I’d never used it to attack anyone other than a faerie—let alone someone who wouldn’t see my attack coming.

Aha.
Call me petty, but I wanted to try this. “Hit me with magic. I meant it. Go on.”

He searched my face, then tossed his own sword to the side. Unlike mine, it vanished before it hit the ground. “If you insist.”

Solid air smacked into me, sending me flying, the magic slipping from my grasp. I skidded on the grass, struggling to breathe. The atmosphere tightened, like a storm was about to break over my head. Sucking in air, I pulled my tendrils of magic close to me again and focused on just how pissed off I was.

This time when he hit me, it bounced off the shield.
Oh, hell, yeah.
Looked like faerie and mage magic could face up to one another. Encouraged, I used the few seconds I’d won to gather more magic into my hands. The power came from
me,
and I didn’t need to be in Faerie to use it.

Another hit from Vance knocked me back a few steps. And again. My shield worked okay, but the magic refused to solidify for long enough for me to turn it into anything resembling a weapon. Dammit. I’d have to use my enhanced instincts until my magic decided to cooperate.

“Change of plans,” I said. “Let’s make this a free-for-all. Hand-to-hand, weapons, whichever.”

“That’s a mistake.”

I waved a hand. “This bloody magic’s refusing to turn into a weapon. I can’t fight you with a shield.”

“Ivy, I know you can do better than this. I’ve seen you.”

“I’m not having a great day. Something about life-or-death stakes kills the mood.”

“Then don’t think about it.”

I snorted. “Don’t think about the life sentence hanging over your head. Sure. I can do that.”

“Don’t you remember what I told you? Offensive magic is usually the reflection of the defensive mode of a spell. I can’t see your magic, but I’ve seen it before. I know.”

I dropped my hands to my sides. “Yeah. Well, there was a shitload of death energy back when the veil was opening. All the half-faeries were crazily overpowered. It’s not normally like that in this realm.”

“You don’t need to be overpowered. You just need to find an opening.”

“Like I said, I’m better at hand-to-hand combat.” Or using a sword, but I wouldn’t have one in the arena.

“Then I’ll allow both.”

Like you make the rules.
I held my tongue. He didn’t have to stand here taking crap from me. He’d walked away from a precarious situation with the other mages to save my life yesterday.

The warmth conjured by the realisation did emphatically
not
fuel my magic, so I turned my thoughts back to last night instead. Maybe fear did work as a tool after all. I could defend myself against hellhounds’ magic, which was effectively a blast of emotion. What Calder had done wasn’t all that different. I’d let myself get taken off guard, but I wouldn’t let it happen again.

Vance nodded, apparently reading more in my expression than I’d intended to give away. Then the air shifted again. I stood my ground, dug my heels in, and let the magic flow to my hands. Without my weapons, there was no barrier between me and the blue light igniting around me. We were one.

I leaped forward, rolling to my front and grabbing the practise sword in the process. As I ran at Vance, my barrier smacked into the current of air stirring around him. So he was using a defensive magical shield, too. I let my frustration and anger simmer, and the blue light grew brighter, the shield becoming more distinct. I watched for an opening, certain he couldn’t use his power indefinitely. The shimmering air in front of me seemed to be running on autopilot, which gave me an idea.

He was shielding, which meant if I got him to use his magic to attack me, he’d be wide open to a frontal assault. I continued to circle him, concentrating on the blue shield in front of me.
Come back,
I told it, and at the slightest gesture, the smoke crept up my hands, the shield’s glimmer fading slightly.

Vance’s eyes narrowed, telling me he’d been watching for exactly this kind of opportunity. He wanted me to attack him directly so my shield would drop and he’d be able to knock me down. Because he couldn’t
see
my magic, he had to guess what I was doing. I must have given it away with my body language. I couldn’t be sure the same would work for him, but one of us had to break first.

I put myself into the position I’d been in when I’d taken down Velkas. I’d wielded magic like a Winter Sidhe. Keeping both hands on the practise sword, I met his gaze, refusing to give anything away. At the same time, I concentrated on my simmering anger until my hands blazed, and the shield was barely existent anymore. If he attacked me now, no magic would defend me.

That wasn’t my plan.

My magic crackled loose and slammed into his shield. As he raised a hand to retaliate, turning the displaced air into a weapon, I used my enhanced instincts to leap high—higher than he’d aimed the attack.
I knew it.
He could only displace one thing at a time. Before he could block me with another shield, I flipped and landed in front of him, pointing the sword at his neck. “Game over.”

He stared. Then his mouth twisted in a smirk. “You said you wouldn’t carry your sword.”

“I’d punch you in the throat, then.” I grinned back. “Or kick you in the crotch. Half-faeries have the same sensitive areas we do.”

“I thought you weren’t relying on the sword.” He grabbed it from my hand.

“Hey!” I protested. “You can’t steal away my victory—”

“Defend yourself with magic.”

Air slammed into me, sending me head over heels. I yelped, landing on my back on the lawn, and Vance tackled me, pinning my legs down. “You didn’t even try.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to.” I tried feebly to get up, but he held me down with no apparent effort. He wasn’t even using magic, dammit. Instead, I was very, very aware of his body pressing into mine, sending heat rushing to places I didn’t need to be thinking about during a fight. I didn’t dare move to push him off me in case my hands started wandering of their own accord.

He was the one who moved first. His finger lightly brushed a strand of hair out of my face, lingering on the curve of my neck. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I breathed in, unintentionally inhaling his thick, masculine scent, tinged with sweat and muskiness. His eyes darkened, a heated spark brewing within.

“I’m thinking you’re stopping me from standing up.”

“Something’s bothering you,” he said.

Of course. He wasn’t trying to seduce me, only get information out of me. And it was working, dammit. I wanted to spill all my secrets.

“I’ll tell you, if I survive tonight.” I wasn’t sure if I meant
I’ll tell you about Calder,
or something else entirely. Like
I’m attracted to you. And that’s a bad idea. The worst idea.

He released me and stood up. “Tell me about the other contestants. Give me a better idea of what technique to use.”

I shrugged. “An evil giant spider with a poisonous sting. And faerie warriors. Summer and Winter ones. Unless we kidnap someone from half-blood territory, we won’t be able to do an exact impression.”

“I’m good at improvising,” he said. “Let’s begin.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“How was it?” Isabel asked.

I closed the flat door behind me. “He’s thorough, I’ll give him that.” I picked yet another leaf out of my hair. When I’d told him Summer faeries attacked using forces of nature, he’d thrown me into a hedge.

“Thorough, huh.” She arched an eyebrow, and I threw a leaf at her.

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” I tossed my coat aside and kicked off my shoes.

Admittedly, Vance was a good teacher. I could tell why he was in charge of the other mages’ training in magic. It came as no surprise to learn he’d had tutors in swordplay all his life, too. Magic or not, skill with a weapon put you a cut above the rest—literally. So I didn’t feel as bad about him beating me every round. Much. My competitive nature protested, but I hadn’t exactly learned in an orthodox way. A fellow prisoner in Faerie had taught me how to kill, and by the time I’d come back into this realm and taken up a freelance position at Larsen’s place, my instincts were stuck on “stab it until it stops moving”.

Not so good when I actually had to leave my opponent alive tonight.

At eight, I stepped into Isabel’s spell circle again and she set up the new disguise spell. This time, she held the mirror up so I could see my transformation. Shifting my feet from the circle’s edge, I watched as a shimmering curtain dropped over me, distorting my reflection. Isabel muttered words in the ancient language while sprinkling a handful of a glittery dust around the circle’s perimeter. Shivers ran down my arms, along with a sensation like water trickling down my spine. My reflection blurred around the edges, darkening until a weird shroud-like garment covered most of my body. My face beneath the hood came into focus. Blue, glittering eyes stared back.

This time, the person in the mirror was a total stranger. While the first illusion had been a Summer faerie version of Ivy Lane, the woman I’d turned into was sharp-featured and feral-looking, like a wildcat given human form. I held no weapons, but winter magic practically pulsed from my skin. The blue-green glow from before had sharpened to icy blue like a frozen lake, the same colour as my eyes.

I pushed the hood down and ran my fingers up the ears pointing between fine strands of black hair.

“Damn,” I said. My voice came out soft, quietly cold, like the tinkle of fingertips on a piano. It creeped
me
out. “You outdid yourself this time, Isabel.”

Isabel backed away from the circle. “Holy shit.” She put down the glass container she’d been holding. “Now I get it. They’re scary as hell. Are you sure you want to fight—
that?”
She pointed at the reflection in the mirror rather than at me, which I kind of appreciated.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “The half-faeries don’t all look like this. I’m
supposed
to be freaky and intimidating. You really delivered on it.” I climbed out of the circle. “I owe you for this. Big time.”

“Save it for when you get back.” Her hands twisted nervously. “Please,
please
be careful. I don’t like that you have to leave your weapons behind.”

“They’ll detect the iron,” I said. “Even last time, if anyone had touched me, they’d have known about Irene. Maybe that’s how the half-Sidhe saw through the illusion.”

I didn’t say his name. Didn’t dare think he might show up tonight. If he’d returned to the alleyway and found me gone, would he assume I’d survived somehow? A depressing number of deaths went unreported here in the suburbs. Especially humans. Non-supernaturals caught in a world they no longer fitted into.