Page 2

CHAPTER 2

FIONA

I knelt in the snow beside our unexpected corpse. Nausea churned in my stomach as I tried to focus past the throbbing headache the strange magic was giving me. The energy signature pulsed like a bad techno beat. There familiar hint of Elowen's elegant Fae magic was confusing me. This was twisted and unnatural, like someone had taken pure magic and put it through a metaphorical wood chipper. It was nothing like her natural flow.

"We need to search him," I said. Grimacing, I reached for his coat pockets. "Whatever caused this might leave traces. I'd rather find them before the mundies do. And before Gadross shows up and gives us shit for not covering our bases. Speaking of, we will need to call Gadross. I want him aware from the beginning."

"Careful," Violet warned. She turned to cast a quick deflection spell to keep the accident victims from wandering our way. "That magic feels unstable. Like a potion about to go spectacularly wrong."

"Story of our lives," I muttered and carefully patted down the victim's expensive coat. "Though I gotta say, this is quite the outfit for someone to end up dead in a magical incident. These are designer labels. Like, 'my wallet hurts just looking at them' designer."

"Because rich people can't have magical accidents?" Aislinn asked, then immediately grimaced. "Sorry, gallows humor. I'm picking up your bad habits, Fi."

"Hey, my habits are awesome," I protested as I fished a wallet from the inner pocket. "And look what we have here. Mr. Fancy Pants has a name. Charles Blackwood. He's fifty-six and lives in Kensington. That fits."

"Proper posh, then," Violet observed. She scanned the guy's belongings. "The magic signature is indeed odd. It reminds me of Elowen's work, but that's not quite right. It's like hearing a familiar song played in the wrong key."

"Anything could be causing that resonance," I said as I continued my search. "Although I have to admit, finding traces of Fae magic this far from their usual haunts is weird. Okay, he has the usual. Credit cards, receipts from some seriously expensive restaurants, and a membership to something called 'The Vintner's Society'. Maybe he’s Elowen’s rival. Hello, what's this?"

I pulled out a small business card. It was deep purple with silver writing that seemed to shimmer in the snowy twilight. The text moved like liquid mercury across the surface. It was reforming itself depending on how you held it. There was no doubt this guy was some sort of supernatural. He wouldn’t be carrying a magical card otherwise.

"The Midnight Cellar," I read aloud. "Where dreams are bottled and wishes flow freely.” I shared a look with my friends. “Well, that's not ominous at all."

Violet's eyes widened. "That's impossible. The Midnight Cellar was shut down decades ago. My gran used to tell stories about it. According to her, they were experimenting with some seriously dangerous magical stuff. It ended badly."

"How badly?" I asked, though I had a feeling I knew the answer.

"After some catastrophe, there were seven dead, three turned into various types of shrubbery, and one poor bloke who ended up speaking in arcane equations for the rest of his life," Violet explained. "Apparently, his last words were, 'The fundamental forces converge at the point of ultimate entropy’."

"Charming," I tucked the card into my pocket. "And now someone's connected to it again. Though how does that tie into this mess?" I gestured at the strange patterns forming in the snow around the body.

"Woah! Look at these markings," Aislinn pointed to faint traces in the snow. "They're like nothing I've seen before. They’re similar to runes, but aren't them."

I studied the patterns. "They're not melting either. Normal snow doesn't do that. Something's preserving them."

"This is beyond anything in my experience," Violet said. She went as pale as the snow all around us. "These are energy patterns, and they're complex. Like someone's woven together different types of magic that were never meant to mix."

"I’d bet they did it while drunk," I added as we watched new symbols appear as the snow shifted. "And blindfolded. In a hurricane."

A particularly strong gust of wind cut through us like a knife. It carried with it the distinct scent of winter roses and frost. Having mated to the most handsome Fae ever to live, I recognized Fae magic. Underneath it was something else. Something that made my teeth ache and my stomach turn. The magic was spreading.

"Shit," I scrambled back from the body. "Everyone back up. Now."

We barely made it three steps before the corpse started to glow with a sickly purple light. Ice crystals formed in the air around it. Instead of the delicate patterns we'd seen before, these were jagged and rough. It reminded me of frozen lightning.

"What the bloody hell?" Violet gasped, throwing up a hasty protection barrier. The air crackled with competing magical energies. "This isn't like anything I've ever seen. The magical signatures are mutating somehow. What the hell is going on?"

Just my freaking luck. We were dealing with whatever magical nightmare had killed a person and caused a multi-car pile-up. The corrupted magic lashed against our shields like it had a personal vendetta. Given our track record, it probably did.

"For the love of all things caffeinated," I muttered as I pushed more power into the shield. Next to me, Violet's face was scrunched in concentration. Her magic wove with mine in familiar patterns. "Aislinn, call Gadross. Tell him to get his bureaucratic backside here before this gets any worse."

"I can’t get through." Aislinn jabbed at her phone with increasing frustration. Her nose was red from the cold, and ice was starting to form on her scarf. "It's like hitting a wall. The calls won't connect, texts won't send, and my weather app thinks we're in the Bermuda Triangle." Maybe that was where the magic came from.

"Keep trying." I gritted my teeth as another wave of magic slammed into our defenses. The taste of copper filled my mouth. That was never a good sign when working with questionable spells. "Something about this magic is messing with communications. Which means whatever we're dealing with really doesn't want us calling friends."

"Shocking," Violet drawled. Her posh accent somehow made the sarcasm even sharper.

"There’s no signal at all now," Aislinn reported as she held her phone up like she might catch a rogue bar of reception. "It's completely dead."

"Perfect." I blew out a breath and watched it crystallize in the frigid air. "The universe decided we weren't having enough fun already."

The corrupted magic pressed closer. It had some kind of intelligence. It was testing our defenses like a predator looking for weakness. We were officially up the creek without a paddle, a boat, or even a rubber duck. The body's glow intensified, and I caught clearer glimpses of the symbols etched into the snow beneath it. The magical patterns were unlike anything I'd seen before. Yet there was an undercurrent of familiar magic.

"These symbols," I mused. I was diligently trying to make sense of them. "Some of them almost look like traditional brewing runes. Although, they feel like someone tried to create their own magical language."

"Without understanding the grammar," Violet added, looking sick. "This is the magical equivalent of throwing random ingredients in a pot and hoping for the best."

A high-pitched whine filled the air. It made my teeth vibrate. The strange energy was spreading as fast as the bullet train. And it was creeping through the snow like purple veins. If it reached the accident victims, we would have a whole other set of problems.

"We need to contain this," I said as I drew power for a spell. "Any purification spells in your arsenal that might work on whatever this is, Vi?"

"A few," she replied grimly. "But they're meant for standard magical contamination. Not whatever this is. It's like trying to clean up an oil spill with paper towels."

"Better than nothing," I said and then positioned myself on one side of the body while she took the other. "Aislinn, add your runes to keep that barrier up. If this goes sideways, I don't want any mundies getting a face full of unknown magic. That won’t be covered by their insurance."

"Remember when I said I wanted a normal girls' weekend?" Aislinn asked as she reinforced our protective shield. "Next time, we're going to a spa in Eidothea where Argies’s family can ensure we won’t be bothered by magic, mysteries, or dead bodies."

"You say that now," I grinned despite the situation, "but you know you'd be bored within an hour. Besides, think of the story we'll have to tell Grams and the guys when we get home."

"Yes, because this is exactly what I want to share during dinner," Aislinn muttered. "'What did you do this weekend?' 'Oh, you know, just dealt with some mysterious death and tried to keep the magic from spreading from the corpse to the mundies. Pass the butter, would you?'"

Violet and I began the purification spell. We kept our voices low and murmured the harmony as we wove magic through the air. The strange energy fought back. It sent jolts of power up my arms like electric shocks. Each pulse carried fragments of something. Memories maybe? The taste of winter frost, the sound of breaking glass, screams that might have been pain or ecstasy, or both. It was all of those and more.

"It's working," Violet said through gritted teeth. "Just a bit more... bloody hell, do you feel that?"

The magic began changing. It shifted under our attempts to purify it. Where before it had been chaotic and wild, now it felt almost intentional. Or as if something was waking up. A sound like breaking glass mixed with screaming wind broke the moment and made me jump.

My wide eyes flew to Violet and landed on the crack that appeared in the air above the body instead. “What the...” my voice trailed off as we watched it spread like a spiderweb. Through the cracks, I caught glimpses of somewhere else. It was a dark cellar filled with bottles that glowed with the same sickly purple light.

"Oh, that's not good," I managed before the crack exploded outward, sending us all sprawling in the snow. The surge of unknown magic felt like being hit by a truck made of solid steel.

When my vision cleared, the body was gone. I dropped to my knees and moved my hands through the snow while Aislinn and Violet scanned the area. It was as if it had never been there at all. The only evidence anything had happened was a perfect circle of melted snow and the lingering taste of twisted magic in the air.

"Well," I said as we picked ourselves up, "I guess we can scratch 'quiet weekend' off our plans."

"I hate you so much right now," Aislinn groaned, brushing snow from her coat.

"No you don't," I replied cheerfully. "You love me because I make your life interesting."

"That's one word for it," Violet muttered. "Right then, what do we know? We've got unknown magic that somehow echoes Fae energy. Plus, those strange symbols, a missing body, and a mysterious club that's supposed to be long gone. Plus, whatever that portal thing was at the end."

"Don't forget the winter storm that came out of nowhere," I added, squinting at the still-falling snow. "Want to bet that's not natural either?"

"No bet," Aislinn started to say, but her words cut off in a sharp intake of breath. "Oh hell. Fi, Vi. Look."

Through the curtain of snow, I followed to where she pointed at a cluster of cars ahead. A woman in a bright red coat was peering under one of the vehicles. Her face became horrified. "There's someone under there!" she called out. "I think they're hurt! "

"Bloody hell," I muttered, already moving forward. "How do we keep the mundies back from this?"

As we got closer, I could see why the woman was worried. A pair of expensive leather shoes stuck out from beneath the car. They were attached to legs that were far too still. The snow around them was stained with something darker than melted slush.

"We've got another one," Violet murmured, her voice low enough that only Aislinn and I could hear.

I pulled out the purple business card. The silver text shimmered and reformed. Now it showed a countdown timer that definitely hadn't been there before. "Right. First priority is getting these civilians clear before they notice anything weird. Then we figure out what The Midnight Cellar has to do with all this, and why people keep dying in the middle of this very unnatural snowstorm. Oh, and it seems as if we’re under a time crunch." The woman in red was already pulling out her phone to call emergency services. We had maybe minutes before this scene got a lot more complicated.