Black-Market Magic: Book 8 in the Twilight Court Series Page 6

  “What do you want from me?” Sileas snapped, all theatrics gone. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it. It's just business.”

  “Yes, but was it only your business, or are there others involved?” Daxon asked.

  Sileas stared stonily at him.

  “Tell me!” Daxon roared.

  “Just me,” she whispered. “As far as I know.”

  “Why?” Daxon shook his head. “You have a profitable enterprise here. Why would you risk opposing me for some small coin on the side?”

  “There's nothing small about the black-market magic trade,” Sileas sneered. “Those without magic will pay mightily for the tiniest taste.”

  “And you will pay mightily for breaking my law,” Daxon declared before he nodded to Desmond. “Cuff her.”

  Desmond started for Sileas. She slashed out a hand toward him, and the cu-sidhe started to gasp for air. As Desmond clutched his throat, Sileas made a run for it. Ro casually slid a hand behind his shoulder and pulled out a length of glowing cord, similar to those used in the Fetch game below. As everyone else waited confidently, Ro flung his cord at Sileas, and it snaked around her feet, constricting on impact. Sileas fell, and as she hit the floor, Desmond took a gasping breath. The Elite fell upon Sileas as one unit and tied her with magic-dampening cuffs (different from the silicone-lined, iron cuffs the Extinguishers use) while Daxon strode forward.

  “You've just compounded your crime by attacking my second-in-command,” Daxon said with cold observation. “I was merely going to confiscate your business, but now I may also take your life.”

  “Daxon, no!” Sileas screamed as Desmond led her toward the elevator. “Please! You can't kill me; not after what we had together.”

  “We had a few enjoyable years,” Daxon said. “But your charms are hardly enough to save you from your direct opposition of me and your attack on my Elite.”

  “You'd rather share a woman with a beast!” Sileas hissed. “You're pathetic, Daxon, and soon, the rest of the Underground will know it. Watch your back!”

  “You—” Daxon stepped forward, but I grabbed his arm.

  “Oh, hell no,” I muttered. “The next hit is mine.”

  “My Queen,” Daxon stepped back.

  “When you came against Daxon, you came against me,” I said as I stepped up to Sileas. “That was your first mistake. But you really fucked up when you called my husband a beast.” I looked at Desmond. “Release her.”

  “What?” Desmond gaped at me.

  “I don't want anyone saying that I kicked her ass when she was bound,” I said calmly. “Now, release the Kraken.”

  Desmond chuckled as he undid Sileas' shackles. “You should have kept your mouth shut, Sileas. You never were good at that.”

  “Fuck you, cur,” Sileas sneered just before she slashed her hand out toward me.

  I already knew what she could do—she had tipped her hand with that attack on Desmond—and I was prepared to take the hit. As my air was cut off, I surrounded Sileas in vines coated with razor-sharp thorns and began to constrict them. The constriction around my throat eased as Sileas screamed and bled. I stepped forward and punched her in the face. Blood gushed from her nose, and she would have fallen, if not for my thorny vines holding her aloft.

  “Just so you know,” I said as I leaned into Sileas' line of sight, “I can light these vines on fire. I could also star-cross you and force you to do any number of embarrassing things... or horrifying things. But I'm an ambassador and a queen, and I won't abuse my power. No; I'll only take my due, and what I'm due is a fair fight. So, you can fight me without magic, and actually stand a chance, or you can try to choke me again, and force me to burn all that pretty hair off your head.”

  I waved away the vines, and Sileas stumbled forward. Her eyes brightened to vivid green and narrowed on me. She nodded grimly and clenched her hands into fists. Then she came barreling at me like a bull at a matador. I stood firm, like any good bullfighter would, and flat-palmed her face, feeling a satisfying crunch vibrate through my wrist. Sileas flew backward and landed in a heap.

  “Well, shit,” I huffed in disappointment as I walked over to Sileas and inspected her comatose body. “I expected a little more.” I frowned deeper. “And how the hell did her dress stay on?”

  “Must be magic,” Sanna said.

  “Hardly,” Daxon scoffed, “it's tape.”

  I looked over at him in surprise.

  “Look for yourself, if you don't believe me.” Dax waved at Sileas. “It's a human thing; dress tape—double-sided stuff that holds the fabric to her skin.”

  I crouched down and pulled at Sileas' dress. Sure enough, the edge was stuck to her skin.

  “Damn, that's some good tape,” I muttered.

  “How on earth did you know that?” Raza asked Daxon.

  “I've watched her dress.” Daxon came to stand beside me and glare down at Sileas. Then he transferred his glare to me. “Am I supposed to preen and thank you for defending my honor?”

  “I wasn't defending you, Dax,” I said. “I know you have to handle your own shit here, and I fully expect you to in regards to Sileas. All of that was for Raza; a man who is completely comfortable with me kicking ass on his behalf.”

  I turned to smile at my husband.

  “More than comfortable,” Raza said with a sweet smile as he joined us. “You kicking ass on my behalf is one of the reasons I love you, mo shíorghrá. It's practically a type of foreplay.”

  “You love her for defending you?” Daxon asked in surprise. “It doesn't make you feel emasculated?”

  “I am a dragon, Tromlaighe.” Raza smirked. “It's virtually impossible for me to feel emasculated. And the fact that Seren would defend such as I is a most wondrous thing to me. Not only has she fought for me; she's also confronted my dragon when he was enraged.”

  “No way,” Sanna whispered.

  “Oh, yes,” Raza said proudly. “Seren confronted the dragon, and saved me from myself.” He took my hand and kissed it tenderly.

  “I believe that first time was about saving Raye,” I corrected Raza.

  “And you don't think that my son's death would have destroyed me?” Raza arched a black brow at me. “You know exactly what you did that day, mo shíorghrá. And you also know that you were the only one who could have done it.”

  “Perhaps,” I whispered and then smiled softly at my husband.

  “The fair maiden saves the dragon,” Ro murmured. “It's damn romantic.”

  Daxon gave Ro a heavy look.

  “What?” Ro huffed. “It is. You're the one who decided to woo a woman with a dragon husband. Don't take out your issues on me when the guy turns out to be charming on top of powerful.”

  “Ease down, everyone,” I said. “There aren't any issues here. Daxon and Raza are different men; that's all. One needs to fight his own battles, and the other is okay with sitting a few out. It doesn't mean anything more than that.”

  “What means far more is your ability to know what we need,” Daxon murmured. “Seren, I think this may actually work between us.”

  “You've said that before,” I reminded him.

  “No; I've said that no matter what happened, I would fight for us; that we would make it work despite the pain that it would cause us,” he clarified. “But now, I believe that it won't be painful at all. I think that Danu knew exactly what she was doing when she drew us together.”

  “She always does,” Raza said softly. “It's why I stopped fighting her and accepted that my life was better with Danu's hand upon it.”

  “I'm beginning to understand that,” Daxon said softly as he stared at me.

  Chapter Nine

  I would have insisted that Daxon hand Sileas over to the Human Council for sentencing, but she hadn't broken any of their laws. She had broken Daxon's law, and I knew that a king had to have authority in order to rule. And you couldn't have authority without imposing consequences on the law-breakers. So, I left Sileas with Daxon and returned
to San Francisco with my romantic husband, Raza.

  We would be heading back to Fairy via my father's rath—located in the basement of Gentry Technologies—but first I wanted to check in with my Uncle Dylan. Dylan ran Gentry in my father's absence (which was pretty much all the time) and conducts some very interesting research involving magic and science. But what I wanted to talk to Dylan about on this visit was his latest endeavor, with something that was a marketable product. And it had been Raza's idea.

  For my last birthday, Raza commissioned Dylan to create a portable crystal ball for me. He had theorized that if you took a slice of an enchanted crystal ball, you could shape it into the size of a human cell phone, and even set it into a leather case for good measure, without losing its communication capabilities. This would give me a way to scry people when I was running amok on missions. The idea had been a success, and Dylan had not only made one for me, but had constructed several scry phones; one for each of my lovers, my father, and himself. I had Dylan make even more of them for me; one for each member of my Star's Guard and one for Daxon as well. I had given Daxon's to him on my last trip out to LA, and he had been thrilled.

  The scry phones came in handy. So much so that Dylan had begun to mass produce them. He had a customer base of both faeries and humans; the humans being mainly from the Human Council. The witches already had something similar and had passed on purchasing phones for now. I knew the Coven and Casters would eventually see how much better scry phones were than Cluster crystals—the charm they used to connect multiple people in a sort of VR phone call—but that might take awhile for them to accept, and then even longer for them to admit. The witches, especially those in the Coven, tended toward arrogance.

  Even without the witches, though, there were plenty of customers. Crystal balls were difficult for Council Houses to acquire; in fact, it was considered prestigious to have one. But Dylan's new device made it possible for any Council House to get their hands on a crystal ball substitute... which all of them did. Several Council Houses placed orders for multiple phones, so they could have phones available for their extinguisher teams to use on missions. Scry phones weren't just more reliable than regular cell phones; they could contact anyone in any realm, so long as the target was near a crystal ball or another scry phone. This meant that no matter where a team wandered—even beyond cell towers—they'd always have a way to check in. The Human Council was practically peeing themselves with happiness.

  And that was why I wanted to see Dylan. When Raza and I passed through Gentry on our way to LA, we had run into Dylan. My uncle had promised to have Raza's first royalty check ready for him by the time we returned.

  Dylan was true to his word and handed a check over to Raza as soon as we walked into his office. Raza took it with a smile, opened the envelope, and stared at the check. He scratched his chin and closed the envelope. I looked at Dylan, and Dylan frowned at me.

  “I assure you, Your Majesty, that is your fair share of the profits,” Dylan said.

  “I have no doubt, Duke Dylan,” Raza said.

  “Is there something else amiss?” Dylan asked.

  “No, not at all; this is an adequate amount.”

  “Adequate?” I snatched the envelope from Raza and looked at the check. “Huh.” I blinked. “Is that... are there six zeroes after that seven?”

  “That's a check for seven million dollars,” Dylan confirmed. “I had thought it would receive a more positive response.”

  “That is a lot of human money, yes,” Raza agreed. “And I'm glad to know that the phones are doing well.”

  “But?” Dylan asked carefully.

  “No; that is all.” Raza stood. “Thank you for treating me fairly, Duke Dylan. And keep up the good work.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Dylan continued to frown as Raza escorted me out.

  I shot my uncle a confused look over my shoulder and then a big smile to show that I was impressed, even if my husband wasn't. Dylan chuckled, shook his head, and went back to work.

  “What the hell, Raza?” I hissed after we got into the elevator. We were headed down to the second floor, where a set of stairs would lead us to the basement rath.

  “What?”

  “Seven million dollars! That's a huge amount of money for the first month of sales.”

  “I made nearly as much with my last invention, and that was in the eighteenth century.”

  “You made... your... what?” I stammered. “You invented something else? Like; for humans?”

  “Yes, for humans.” He rolled his golden eyes. “I lived among them for awhile, if you'll recall. As human civilization progressed, my need for money increased. I couldn't just take what I wanted anymore; I needed currency to purchase things that amused me.”

  “To purchase things that...” I made a choking sound. “And so you invented something?” I gaped at him.

  “I'm a djinn.” He smirked. “We're good at coming up with ideas. Especially when we see a need.”

  “Well? What the hell did you invent?”

  “The water heater.”

  “The water heater?”

  “Yes, the large, metal barrel that heats water for—”

  “I know what a water heater is, Raza!”

  “It didn't seem as if you did,” he huffed.

  “You couldn't have invented it.”

  “I didn't build it.” He shrugged. “I came up with the idea; that's what I'm good at. I left the details to a human I collaborated with; much as I've partnered with Duke Dylan on the scry phones.”

  “So, you're telling me that the reason humans have hot water in their homes today is that the King of Unseelie invented the water heater?”

  “You could say that; yes.” Raza looked smug.

  “Fucking dragons,” I muttered.

  “Fucking dragon-djinns, Seren,” Raza corrected me as he dropped his human glamour.

  Raza retained his quarterback physique—wait; hold that thought. I recently saw a football game and noticed that quarterbacks aren't always so buff. In fact, some of them are quite paunchy. So, maybe I shouldn't compare Raza to one. My husband was definitely not paunchy. And no; I don't watch sports, so you'll have to forgive my assumptions on the fitness level of athletes. You'd think with all that training they'd be trim.

  Anyway, back to Raza. His Schwarzenegger physique stayed the same, along with his hair—that choppy ebony with its double stripes of crimson on the right side of his face. But his topaz eyes lightened and brightened to metallic gold, and his tawny skin darkened to midnight black. His face shifted as well; the ridges of his cheekbones and his brows becoming sharper and more prominent, making him look more predatory, almost sinister. A pair of leathery, dragon wings simply appeared behind him, rising over his shoulders with a menacing curve, their claw-tipped joints adding even more danger to his already fatal attractiveness. Then there were his hands; pointed talons extended from his fingertips, clicking together as Raza settled into his original skin.

  I sighed in appreciation. Sileas might see a beast when she looked at Raza, but I saw ferocity made flesh; savagery tempered by sensuality. I wasn't kidding when I said I had a thing for bad boys; my unseelie husband was the ultimate member of that tribe. The King of Bad Boys; Raza was a bad dragon. But when he was good, he was even better.

  Chapter Ten

  Just a mile or so away from Twilight Castle, there was a rath that connected to Unseelie, letting out near Craos-Teine—the new Unseelie Castle where Raza and I lived. Because of this rath, it was faster for Raza and me to travel to LA via another rath in Twilight; the one that connected Twilight to San Francisco—the rath beneath Gentry Technologies. We had left both of our personal Guards on the other side of this Twilight rath, along with the royal unseelie carriage and several horses.

  Neither of our Guards had been happy about being left behind, but my Star's Guard was especially petulant when Raza and I stepped back into Fairy. Frankly, I didn't want to lug nine twilight fairies around with me everywher
e I went. I know it's their job, and my father has lectured me many times on why they need to do it, but when I was with Raza, their job became obsolete. Even Keir had conceded that it was all right for me to leave Cat behind at Twilight Castle with him for this trip. But my Star's Guard refused to be left at the castle and had insisted on at least joining me on the journey to the rath. They thought the ride would give them plenty of time to convince me to take them along to HR. But it had been Raza who they had to convince, and he didn't budge. Raza enjoyed spending time alone with me too much to let a bunch of fairy knights talk him out of it. Which meant that my Guard had been pouting the entire time Raza and I were in HR.

  Conri was the first to give me hell.

  “So, how'd it go?” Conri drawled. “Kill anyone without us?”

  “No; I chose not to kill them,” I said as I climbed into the carriage.

  We had scried ahead to let our Guards know to pack up and prepare for the trip home; so the horses were already hitched to the carriage when we arrived.

  “Them?” Conri growled, losing his teasing look. “You were attacked by multiple people?”

  “I didn't hear a 'Your Highness' in there, Sir Conri,” Raza noted with deceptive casualness; the kind of casualness that could easily turn into casualty.

  “You were attacked by multiple people, Your Highness?” Conri growled. “This is exactly why we need to be with you when you travel.”

  “It was fine, Conri.” I waved him off. “But I'm tired. My butt has been in a car for hours now, and it will be at least another two hours before we get home. I'm going to try to stretch out on this seat here, and you're going to stop bugging me about not killing people without you. Got it?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Conri snapped and slammed the carriage door on us.