Black-Market Magic: Book 8 in the Twilight Court Series Read online

  Black-Market Magic

  Amy Sumida

  Copyright © 2018 Amy Sumida

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-10: 198200228X

  ISBN-13: 978-1982002282

  Legal Notice

  This book is copyright protected. It is only for personal use. You cannot amend, distribute, sell, use, quote, or paraphrase any part of the content within this book without the consent of the author or copyright owner. Legal action will be pursued if this is breached.

  More Books by Amy Sumida

  The Godhunter Series (in order)

  Godhunter

  Of Gods and Wolves

  Oathbreaker

  Marked by Death

  Green Tea and Black Death

  A Taste for Blood

  The Tainted Web

  Series Split:

  These books can be read together or separately

  Harvest of the Gods & A Fey Harvest

  Into the Void & Out of the Darkness

  Perchance to Die

  Tracing Thunder

  Light as a Feather

  Rain or Monkeyshine

  Blood Bound

  Eye of Re

  My Soul to Take

  As the Crow Flies

  Cry Werewolf

  Pride Before a Fall

  Monsoons and Monsters

  Beyond the Godhunter

  A Darker Element

  Out of the Blue

  The Twilight Court Series

  Fairy-Struck

  Pixie-Led

  Raven-Mocking

  Here there be Dragons

  Witchbane

  Elf-Shot

  Fairy Rings and Dragon Kings

  (Black-Market Magic)

  The Spellsinger Series

  The Last Lullaby

  A Symphony of Sirens

  A Harmony of Hearts

  Fairy Tales

  The Four Clever Brothers

  Happily Harem After

  Beauty and the Beasts

  Pan's Promise

  Wild Wonderland

  The Little Glass Slipper

  Other Books

  The Magic of Fabric

  Feeding the Lwas: A Vodou Cookbook

  There's a Goddess Too

  The Vampire-Werewolf Complex

  Enchantress

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  Pronunciation Guide and Character List in the back of the book.

  Dedication

  For Dexter

  Chapter One

  “Everything seems to be in order,” Raza said as he strode through the corridors of Enchantments. “Your list of services are acceptable, and there doesn't appear to be any magical weapons in stock.”

  “I assure you, there are no hidden caches here; if that's what you're suggesting, Your Majesty,” Daxon said. “I wouldn't risk my relationship with Seren merely for money.”

  “Very well, Count Tromlaighe,” Raza said reluctantly, “you've demonstrated your dedication to my queen and have proved yourself to be a worthy consort.”

  “Thank you, King Raza.” Daxon bowed.

  “There will be a month's probation for you to show us that you can maintain these changes,” Raza went on, and I rolled my eyes. “Don't look at me like that, Seren. This is necessary. We must prove that we have made every effort to determine Tromlaighe's worth. If not, we can be held accountable for his actions.”

  “Unfortunately, he's right.” Daxon sighed.

  “You have my approval for chaste visitations,” Raza went on, “but anything more than that will have to wait.”

  “I understand and agree completely, Your Majesty,” Daxon said respectfully.

  “Fine,” I huffed, “he's on probation. Can we take the delinquent to lunch?”

  It was hard to watch Daxon playing by the rules and being so damn respectful to Raza. Not that Raza wasn't deserving of respect. It was just that Daxon had been King of the Fairy Underground when we'd first met; an all-around bad boy with criminal inclinations, who had set himself up as a king, and had a group of henchmen to help keep him in power. He was intriguingly naughty, devastatingly handsome, and had one of the sharpest intellects I've ever encountered. But then we'd felt the Call of Danu for each other, and things had gotten real between us.

  My new status as Queen of Seelie and Unseelie, on top of my old one as Princess of Twilight and Ambassador between the Realms, made it impossible for me to have a criminal for a consort. The Councils, my kingdoms, and my father simply wouldn't accept it. Even if that criminal was as charming as Daxon Tromlaighe. So, Daxon had cleaned up his act. It was the reason why Raza and I were in LA; to search Daxon's nightclub for possible contraband, and inspect his new business practices to verify that everything was above board.

  I was glad that Dax wanted to be with me enough to change his life; I really was. I just wasn't sure about this new Daxon Tromlaighe: upstanding businessman. I wasn't sure if he had really changed, or—if the changes did turn out to be genuine—if I would like the new Daxon. There's something about a bad boy, especially one of the rare ones with a heart of gold. And despite Daxon's inclinations, both toward crime and kink, he had a good heart. That was something I was certain of. I'd seen enough evidence of it in his dealings with the fairies who had relocated to Earth.

  “Yes, mo shíorghrá,” Raza answered with a smile. “We can take your potential consort to lunch.”

  “Why do I suddenly feel like a teenager going out with his parents?” Daxon drawled, showing some of that bad boy I'd been missing.

  “Please don't ever put that imagery in my head again,” I teased him.

  Daxon—of course—had a suggestion for lunch. We ended up at a little cafe called Toast. We sat in front of the cafe, at an umbrella-shaded table, and drank coffee in awkward silence while we waited for our food to arrive. People walked by, casually strolling until they saw the men. Then they would stumble, or even stop walking altogether in favor of staring. Raza alone was striking, even in his human glamour, but with Daxon's wild, fey looks on full display—right across from Raza's—they looked like a pair of celebrities. Only wealthy men could dress as they did and boast wild hair dye jobs; to be gorgeous on top of that just screamed prestige and privilege. If only the humans knew that these men were actually fairies; those crimson stripes in Raza's sharply-angled hair and the deep indigo color of Daxon's were natural. Maybe then the people wouldn't pause as they tried to pass our table... or maybe they would swarm.

  Either way, I was starting to regret choosing an outdoor table for us to dine at.

  “I've had enough of this,” a man growled from nearby.

  “You and me both,” I muttered under my breath as I glanced over.

  At a table a few feet away from ours, I saw a man clasp his hand firmly around his companion's wrist. The wrist he grabbed looked delicate and belonged to a tiny blonde woman who tried to jerk away without success. Daxon and Raza tensed, muscles bunching in preparation for attack. My men were not the type to stand aside while a woman was mistreated—while anyone was mistreated, actually.

  “You've had enough?” The woman asked in shock. “I was the one who caught you cheating, you dick!”

  “Again with the body parts,” Raza murmured.

  One of Raza's pet peeves was the human tendency to use the names of body parts as insults.

  “It didn't mean anything,” the man protested.

  “That's some bullshit,” Daxon muttered. “If it didn't mean anything, why bother?”

>   “I'm not arguing about this anymore.” The woman tried to stand, but the man pulled her back into her seat. “Fuck you—”

  Her words were cut off when the man tossed a sparkling powder into the woman's face. She sat back in her chair heavily as a tingle of magic vibrated out to us. I gaped at Daxon, and his ultramarine eyes went wide and horrified.

  “That's better,” the man said smugly. “Now, you're going to forget all about seeing Tammy and me together. Do you understand?”

  The woman nodded.

  “Good,” the man said brightly. “Let's get back to having a nice meal.”

  The rest of their conversation faded away as my gape turned into a glare. Raza's eyes had narrowed as well, and he began to lean across the table toward Daxon in a threatening manner.

  “I had nothing to do with that,” Daxon hissed.

  “That was a forgetting spell,” Raza whispered. “Are you telling me that some other fairy sold it to the human... in your town?”

  “That's exactly what I'm saying,” Daxon snapped. “You don't believe me? Round the guy up when he leaves and ask him. I'd wager my life that whoever sold him that shit was not one of my people.”

  Raza's hand clenched into a fist, but I laid my hand over his, and he settled.

  “I can take care of this,” I said to Raza. “It's not legal, but then neither is a forgetting charm. I'll just fairy-strike that jerk and get the truth out of him.”

  “I'll be right back, honey,” the man beside us said. “I just gotta take a quick piss.”

  “Charming,” I murmured and tensed to go after him.

  “I will handle this,” Raza said as he watched the man stand and head inside. “Stay here and watch Tromlaighe.”

  Raza got up and followed the man inside the restaurant.

  “Seren, I swear to you that I didn't sell that magic,” Daxon vowed. “Even when I did sell quick charms, I never sold forgetting spells. That's a sloppy business that can easily backfire and make for unhappy customers.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. “Then Raza will have proof of your innocence soon.”

  “What about her?” Daxon nodded to the bespelled blonde. “We can't just leave her like that.”

  “I don't know,” I said. “I can uncross people, but this is a different kind of spell.”

  “This is black-market magic.” Daxon grimaced. “It's weak stuff, meant for humans. Try the uncrossing with her; it just may work.”

  I glanced at the woman. She was eating with the air of a person who didn't know why she had ordered food, to begin with. I sighed; no harm in trying. As I stood, I gathered my uncrossing magic into my hands, feeling the tingle in my fingertips.

  “Pardon me?” I asked the woman as I leaned in and touched her shoulder. “Could I steal a couple packets of sugar from your table? We're out, and I hate the fake stuff.”

  I pushed my magic into her, and then pulled it back out like a hook on a line. The forgetting spell broke like thin glass; a tinkling feeling for me that was more like a shattering for her. She trembled violently, took a deep breath, and then started to whimper.

  “Hey, it's okay,” I rubbed her back. “I heard what that guy said to you. I hope you don't mind me butting in, but if I were you, I'd leave before he came back from the bathroom.”

  “He cheated on me,” she whispered. “I was about to leave, but then something happened, and I'm not sure what it was. I feel as if I blacked out for a second.”

  “I think he drugged you,” I said softly. “I saw him blow a powder into your face.”

  “That bastard!” She swore. “Drugs? Seriously? I should report his ass to the police.”

  “I don't know how you'd prove it,” I cautioned. “But either way, you should get out of here before he tries to do it again. You can call the cops after you're somewhere safe.”

  “Yeah, maybe you're right.” She looked apprehensively over her shoulder in the direction he'd gone. “I knew he was a jerk, but I had no idea he was a monster.”

  “I'm so sorry.”

  “No; don't be.” She clutched my hand as she stood. “I think that you must have snapped me out of that drug haze. I feel completely clear-headed now. Thank you so much; you may have just saved my life.”

  The woman hugged me, grabbed her purse, and rushed out of the cafe.

  “I guess it worked,” Daxon said with surprise.

  “You said it would.” I sat back down and cocked my head at him.

  “I said it probably would work with your magic,” he corrected. “I wasn't certain.”

  The magic-using schmuck returned to the empty table, turned in a circle looking for his date, and then stormed off.

  “Hey, you haven't paid your bill!” A waiter grabbed the guy and got punched in the gut for his efforts.

  You don't punch a waiter in LA. It was a tough town, and so were its residents—but the toughest of those tended to be the ones serving the food. As soon as the waiter doubled-over, the rest of the staff tag-teamed the idiot who had punched him and had the bill-shirking, waiter-punching, woman-abuser restrained within minutes. By the time Raza returned to our table, the police were on their way, and the pathetic moron was tied to a chair with linen napkins.

  “Looks like he'll be getting his comeuppance,” Raza noted smugly as he slid into his seat.

  “Good; that asshole,” I snarled.

  “Haven't I asked you to use another word?” Raza lifted a brow at me.

  “I thought that was only in reference to you?”

  “Quite right,” Raza conceded. “Feel free to call other men assholes.”

  “Are you going to tell us what happened or not?” Daxon snapped.

  “You may be innocent,” Raza admitted.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Daxon demanded, all respect for Raza gone.

  I would have laughed if it hadn't been so serious; I knew all that respect had been an act. Daxon had been raised in the Unseelie Court—he was a count like Tiernan had been—so he knew how to sweet talk royalty.

  “The human was approached in a bar; the magic peddled to him like drugs,” Raza said. “But the bar wasn't Enchantments and the man who sold him the magic wasn't you or any of your associates that I've met.”

  “Thank you,” Daxon huffed, but then sat forward. “Hold on; what bar was it?”

  “Someplace called The White Lotus,” Raza said. “We'll have to report this to the Human Council. That spell is considered harmful, correct?”

  “Forgetting spells are a gray area.” I shook my head. “Extinguishers sometimes use a psychic version to remove memories from humans when they witness too much, and I've approved of members of my Guard doing the same when needed. Technically, as it was used here, it was an attack because the man tried to change the woman's free will—and that would be considered illegal. But the attack was perpetrated by a human. The Councils still haven't reworked the law yet to deal with humans using magic.”

  “So, what do we do?” Raza asked. “If you want to prove that Daxon is an acceptable consort; we can't have this is hanging over his head.”

  “It wasn't me,” Daxon growled. “I am acceptable.”

  “Yes, we believe you.” I laid my hand on Daxon's so that I was holding the hands of both men; a neutral bridge between the two. “It just looks bad since you were the King of the Underground.”

  “She believes you,” Raza huffed. “I'm still waiting for absolute proof.”

  “I am still King,” Daxon corrected me. “I don't have to sell magic to humans to rule the Underground. And what kind of proof do you want, King Raza?”

  “I want to know who sold the spell to that human,” Raza said.

  “Well, that makes two of us,” Daxon snapped. “Because not only did I clean up my business practices, I also declared a new law that none of my people could sell magic to humans; not until the Councils ruled on it and determined what was legal to sell.”

  “It looks like one of your subjects is rebelling,” I noted.


  “Perhaps we should hunt this fairy together,” Raza suggested with a wicked grin. “Then I will have my proof, and you will have your justice.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “We can't go vigilante in the Human Realm on a fairy; that's Extinguisher jurisdiction. We need the backing of the Councils.”

  “You have a deal, King Raza.” Daxon shook Raza's hand.

  “Oh gee, look at that; I've been ignored again while the big, strong men make plans that I can't possibly have the intellect to contribute to.” I rolled my eyes and stood up.

  “Seren!” They both called after me.

  “I'm going to the bathroom,” I said calmly. “If you two don't adjust your chauvinist attitudes by the time I return, I'll be walking out for real, and you can continue your bromance without me.”

  They looked properly chastised.

  “Nicely done,” our waitress whispered to me as I passed her.

  “Sometimes you just have to remind them who has the power,” I said.

  “You mean who has the pussy.” The waitress winked at me.

  “Isn't that what I said?”

  Chapter Two

  The White Lotus was a human bar; and by that, I mean that the staff was entirely human. The patrons, however, were a mixed lot. Those who were human were motley as well; there were some ordinary people there, but there were also a few above extraordinary folks. I knew immediately—by the way heads turned in our direction and stares followed us—that most of the customers knew exactly what, if not who, had just walked in the door. If they knew who we were, then they weren't your common type of human.

  Raza, Daxon, and I found a small, round, rickety table to sit at, but before a waitress could come by for our drink order, a fairy approached us; a peri, to be precise. Peri's were Persian, winged fairies; feathered wings, to be precise once again. I could see the outline of his wings clearly when I focused past his glamour. The peri grabbed a chair from a nearby table, turned it around so that its back was facing us, and straddled it. He crossed his arms over the top of the chair and considered us.