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Authors: Meghan Ciana Doidge

Tags: #Fantasy

Trinkets, Treasures, and Other Bloody Magic (19 page)

BOOK: Trinkets, Treasures, and Other Bloody Magic
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“You’ll like it,” Lara answered from behind us. “The kitchen is gorgeous.”

Obviously, today was everyone-knows-Jade-inside-and-out day.

“I practically cleared Cacao out of their dark chocolate and cocoa,” Lara continued.
 

“Oh! I’ve heard they have a fantastic selection of small craft chocolate makers.” Yeah, I was gushing, but not drooling … yet.

“Desmond said the darker the better.”

Desmond said? And I was going to have time to bake, was I? Why did this feel a lot like being kidnapped? Well, the fake check-in, the side stairs, and the big black SUV waiting in the underground parking lot — with a werewolf at the wheel and two others on either side — might have something to do with it.


House arrest was more accurate. An absolutely beautiful, modern, sprawling house on a hill with a breathtaking view of downtown Portland and the river. But still, it was rather obvious that I was a detainee and that Lara and Kandy were my jailers. Scarlett too.
 

Moments after we arrived, things got even more tense when Desmond showed up with a spitting mad Mory in tow. McGrowly wasn’t so pleased either.

The fledgling necromancer had stowed away in the covered bed of his pickup truck. That had to have been a nasty seven-or-so-hours, including lunch. But smart girl. The pickup placed her far enough away from me that I wouldn’t notice her magic, other than the hint of it I’d tasted this morning and brushed off. And Desmond, having never met her, wouldn’t have caught on to his stowaway until he actually got a whiff of her when he opened up the truck bed to retrieve his bag.

I had two immediate concerns. One was the pained look on Mory’s face, which had nothing to do with the fact that she was practically dangling by the back of her hoodie, currently clenched in Desmond’s meaty fist. She was so tiny I thought that McGrowly might not actually be aware he was holding her off the ground, the tips of her too-large army boots just scraping the granite tile of the entranceway.

“Desmond,” I snapped. Jeremy behind McGrowly and Lara beside me both winced. “She has to pee. She’s been trapped in the truck for seven hours.”

Desmond released Mory. “Third door on the left,” he said. The fledgling necromancer took off down the hall that Desmond indicated. “Do you know the shit I could get into, smuggling a child across the border?”
 

“She’s a smart girl,” I retorted. It was easy to cover my concern and confusion with bravado when Desmond was near. “I’m sure she had her passport.”

McGrowly sneered in my direction, but I was now focusing on the second of my concerns.

Namely, the bag in Desmond’s other hand. His overnight bag, to be exact.

I did a second scan of the house. I was currently standing in the living room area, which was directly off the entranceway. Dark green — almost black — granite tile turned into some sort of deep brown hardwood — walnut, maybe — through what I could see of the remainder of the house. The granite tile reappeared in the chef’s kitchen, which was beyond the dining room far off to my right. The house was huge. A modern open-plan home perched among trees over the river below. Leather furniture, glass, and steel made up the Spartan finishings. I was trying to not salivate over the kitchen or the massive river-rock fireplace on the left. Nothing blocked the view.

A man’s home. A wealthy, no-nonsense man. Sigh.

“Your place?” I asked. “We’re supposed to stay here?”

“Thank you for your protection and hospitality, alpha,” Scarlett interjected.

Desmond’s frown smoothed and he nodded his head curtly in my mother’s direction. “You’re welcome to my home and my city. It is an honor to host the scion of the Godfrey coven.”

What the hell? And Jesus. I was a blundering, freaking fool.

“I will see you at dinner,” Desmond said. He dropped his bag in the entranceway and turned to a hall that branched off in the opposite direction from where Mory had run. The house extended in two wings. The front section was all open windows and entertaining area. I assumed the wings led to bedrooms, bathrooms, and whatnot.

“No one has taught me anything,” I said, hissing unbecomingly at Scarlett.

“This will be a fun crash-course then, my Jade.” Scarlett brushed her fingers on my forearm, forever soothing the riled baby … Unfortunately, it worked. My mother’s charm was formidable. “First lesson,” she continued. “Interlopers on pack territory are usually executed unless they can prove allegiance to a stronger alpha.”

“We’re not shapeshifters or interlopers.”

“No, but a stowaway is, and the law applies to all of the Adept. Ignorant or not. I assume the fledgling claimed allegiance to you when found, but let’s just make that clear.”

Oh, freaking great. I leave Vancouver to get away from Gran’s lack of expectations and find myself subject to martial law.

“I would love to freshen up before dinner,” Scarlett said, turning to Lara.

“Please allow me to show you to your room, scion.” Lara picked up our suitcases, which Jeremy had retrieved from the SUV, and headed off in the direction of the bathroom. Jeremy had already picked up Desmond’s bag and hustled off after his alpha.

I mouthed ‘scion’ over Lara’s shoulder to Kandy, who grinned but then shrugged. I was beginning to see why the green-haired werewolf might have been assigned to guard me in Vancouver. Formalities weren’t her strong suit, though she ranked rules and loyalty very highly.

“I’ll go talk to Mory,” I said.

“Better you than me,” Kandy replied. “Plus, I’m worried about the rest of the cupcakes in the car. Jeremy might try to claim desertion and eat them.”

She spun to trot back out through the entrance doors. I wandered down the hall after Lara and Scarlett. No art or crown moldings decorated the walls — just perfectly flat, white-painted drywall. The others were about twenty feet ahead — it was a huge house –– when I found the bathroom door. Third on the left. It was closed. And locked.

I knocked.

“Oh, Jade,” Scarlett called from down the hall. “Dress for dinner.”

Dress for dinner? Hell. “I didn’t pack any dress,” I hissed back loudly.

Scarlett glanced at Lara, who nodded solemnly. I took this to mean that a dress would be acquired. It would probably be purple. I’d look hideous. Who the hell cared? It wasn’t as if I was trying to impress anyone. At least not anyone who hadn’t already seen me covered in dirty bruises and bloody hair.

“Mory,” I said as I knocked on the door again. “Let me in.”

“Who was that?” Mory cried from the other side of the door.

“What are you doing here is the more pertinent question, Mory.”

Silence was all that followed. I sighed. Man, I was turning into a dour old biddy. “That was McGrowly. He’s the alpha around here. And you probably shouldn’t call him that to his face.”

“I don’t want to say anything to his face.” Mory’s whisper was almost lost behind the door.

“Scary, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He gets that a lot, I imagine.” I remembered my first impression of those scary eyes. The fact that making out with him — twice — hadn’t altered that first impression said a lot about my state of mind. Good thing I wasn’t interested in analyzing myself outside the door of a bathroom while cajoling the teenager within.

“At least come out, Mory. You’re here now. There isn’t much we can do about it right away.”

Mory thought about that for a moment, then unlocked the door. I had no idea why a shapeshifter would bother with locks he could snap with a fingernail. They’d probably come with the house.

Mory’s eyes were red rimmed, the tip of her nose unbecomingly pink. McGrowly had really scared her. She also needed a shower. The small black-and-white checked wallpapered powder room boasted a pedestal sink and toilet but no shower.
 

“Where’s your bag?” I asked. “I’m guessing you knew where we were going?”

“He took it,” Mory pouted.

“Desmond took your bag?” This sounded completely beneath the Alpha of the West Coast North American Pack.

“No,” Mory whined. “The other one, who thinks he’s way older than he is. The blond.”

Ah, Jeremy. “Cute, isn’t he?” I asked, turning down the hall toward Scarlett’s room.

“No. He totally stole my phone.”

“He’s going to be drop-dead gorgeous in a couple of years.”

“So?” Mory said, sneering convincingly.

I laughed. Desmond must have embarrassed the hell out of Mory in front of Jeremy, and that was the biggest reason for the fledgling’s tears. Oddly, that relieved some of my tension, which had amped up at her appearance.

I fished my phone out of my satchel and texted Kandy about Mory’s missing backpack. Then I started opening hallway doors at random. “Let’s pick a room.”

“Okay.” Mory wasn’t as begrudging about this task as she’d like to be. Like I said, the house was gorgeous. Completely under-furnished, but still modern and classic. Just the way I liked it.

“You need a shower before dinner.”

“I’m not showering.”

“Jeremy will probably be there.”

“What do I care?”

“Maybe you can get him to take you to the nearest graveyard or something tomorrow.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Right after we call your mom.”

“Ah, Jade.”

Yeah, that’s me. Responsible, no-fun, Jade. I was like the school-teacher-aunt rather than the cool older sister.

My stomach bottomed out at the thought of being a sister. Mory continued to chat about the famous Portland ghosts she’d heard about. I tried to ignore the taste of bile in my mouth. Bile that tasted a lot like Sienna’s blood magic … the aftertaste, at least.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The dress was purple, of course. Deep purple silk that twirled around my knees and hung from my shoulders and waist like it was made for me. I didn’t look half bad at all. And, happily, I’d packed my black and beige Elif Minis. The diagonal strap made them sexy enough to pull off with this dress.

I wore my knife and necklace as well, of course, but stashed the jade stones underneath the bowl of cotton balls in the en suite bathroom. I figured that was pretty damn random and that no one who could feel magic like I could was going to get anywhere near my bedroom without one of Desmond’s wolves noticing.

The dinner — of course and despite the beautiful dress — was boring as hell. But then, keeping myself shielded as much as possible from all the magic in the room might have dulled things for me.

When I wandered out into the living room with Mory in tow, I found Scarlett holding court among five shapeshifters. The only familiar face in the room was Kandy, who stood off to one side of the unlit fireplace gazing out the picture window. She was wearing a satin, collared shirt and black dress pants that fit her like a second skin. Scarlett turned as I entered, pulling every other gaze to me as well.

A flare of green rolled over the eyes of the well-dressed shifters as they accessed some part of their magic — most likely scent. No one else stumbled back at this display because no one else in the room could see and taste magic as I could. The reminder was crystal clear and adrenalized. The living room was full of potentially deadly beasts like McGrowly. Though I understood the half-form that Desmond could manifest wasn’t a common shifter ability, these five felt almost as powerful as their alpha.

“Ah, my Jade. Do come meet everyone.” Scarlett beckoned me forward. “This is my daughter, Jade Godfrey. Jade, these lovely people are a few of the West Coast pack’s Assembly members.”

Was the entire Adept community just a series of councils, conclaves, and assemblies? All politics and governing bodies all the time? No wonder Desmond was so perpetually serious and Kandy was perfectly content to be in Vancouver. If the room got any stuffier I was going to need to climb out a window.


So, yeah. Dinner was boring and politics were in play all over the place in Portland. Though Desmond looked damn sexy in a suit that downplayed his broad shoulders by emphasizing the taper of his waist and hips. I didn’t stare. Much. He didn’t spare me a second glance. I got the impression that Scarlett’s presence made it impossible for McGrowly to sneak us into the city. My mother was referred to as scion or Convocation member all evening. If the food hadn’t been so tasty, I would have fallen asleep in it.

I was bombarded with magic — utterly surrounded — from Desmond and Scarlett in addition to the five other highly ranked pack members. I assumed that the pack ranked their members based on good looks and magical wattage. Then there were the shapeshifters guarding and serving us — not one pure human in the bunch. Despite the grounding presence of my necklace and knife, I was itchy and antsy with all this magic.

It also didn’t help that a breathtaking brunette — the only uncoupled shapeshifter — sitting next to Desmond didn’t take her eyes off him all evening. She didn’t have Scarlett’s charm or laugh, but her killer body made up for it. Her ratio of breasts to waist made me want to slap her. And no, I wasn’t even remotely jealous. I didn’t even remember her name … Ashley, Alison, Alicia?

So I spilled my wine on Mory. The fledgling necromancer was perched on a low stool beside me. Desmond was at the head of the table with Scarlett and what’s-her-name on either side. I was at the opposite diagonal from Scarlett, with Mory tucked on the corner between me and some old dude, who was the alpha Desmond had succeeded without having to kill him. Not something, by the way, to just blurt out when meeting an ex-alpha. Fortunately, that had been Mory’s mistake, not mine.

Anyway, it was only a small spill. Mory shrieked like it was molten lava or something.
 

I hustled her off to the washroom, throwing out mumbled apologies, with Kandy following closely behind us.

I shoved Mory into the powder room where we’d had our first chat of the day, shutting the door behind us before Kandy could enter. I almost wilted from the relief of being a few steps away from all that magic.

“The skirt is ruined,” Mory moaned.

“Shush,” I said. “It’s my skirt, and it’s only a drop of wine on the hem. Rinse it off with cold water.” I’d had the blue miniskirt crumpled in the corner of my suitcase. Thankfully, it had a drawstring waist so Mory could borrow it. It looked crazy cute with the fledgling’s old combat boots, which was good because her feet were way too small to borrow any of my shoes.

BOOK: Trinkets, Treasures, and Other Bloody Magic
11.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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