Magic Redeemed

“What do we do?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously?”

Josh nodded at the street. “Because backup has arrived.”

The Drake motorcade pulled up to the curb. Today it consisted of three black luxury SUVs—though it was anyone’s guess which car Killian was actually in.

The back door to the first SUV popped open, and Celestina slid out. “I’ll take your handbag, Hazel. Killian wants you in his car.”

I shook my head. “Given all the papers, I’d rather keep the handbag with me.”

Celestina chucked. “Very well. Would you like—”

“Killian’s pet is still alive, what a surprise.”

I slowly turned around, narrowing my eyes as I watched Ira amble closer to us, bringing the cloying floral taste with him.

Josh narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat, Consort Ira?”

“Not at all. I was merely observing my surprise at one helpless wizard surviving in Drake Hall for so long.” Ira smiled, handsome in a cloying sort of way.

“Drop whatever spell you’re weaving,” I warned him.

Ira paused when he reached the sidewalk and sneered at me. “You really think you could stop me?”

“No,” I said. “But I don’t particularly feel like hanging around to answer police questions when these two disembowel you.” I nodded first to Josh—who rested a hand on his broadsword—and then to Celestina—whose hand had drifted to the pocket that held her gun.

Ira scoffed. “Even Killian Drake could not survive the public uproar of murder in a public place.”

“I doubt that. All it would take is a few photos of him in dark suits staring at the moon and he’ll have the public swindled that it’s part of his dark, brooding charm. He’d probably get his own Netflix series or something.” I squinted at the fae. “You don’t have the right look to pull off dark and brooding though—sorry. You’re more of a pouter.”

Ira’s natural fae beauty twisted into something ugly. “Careful, pet, lest you say something you come to regret.”

“Touch my wizard, you’ll start a war.” Killian snaked an arm around my waist and scooped me against his side, his appearance as stealthy as it was sudden.

Ira raised both of his eyebrows. “You have such strong feelings for her, do you? How shocking. Killian Drake has grown fond of a rat-blood.”

I stirred, intending to complain that it wasn’t really fair of him to call me a rat-blood—it’s not like my blood smelled like roadkill to him. But Killian must have guessed my idea because he raised his hand to brush the back of my neck and smashed my face into his suitcoat, muffling my complaint.

“Haven’t you heard? She’s unsealed her powers—which rival her parents’. That makes her a great deal more useful than most fae.” Killian let me go long enough that I could glare up at him and witness his smug smirk.

Ira started to snarl, then he forced a brittle, seething smile as he reined in his outburst. “If that’s so, then you really ought to be careful with her and mind your precious pet, hadn’t you?” Ira’s eyes flickered with something wild. “Accidents happen. It would be such a shame if something happened to her.”

I had switched to gripping Killian’s suitcoat with a death-grip as I stared at the Night Court Consort. Had he just threatened me? In the middle—okay, no—late hours of the day? In a park?

Sheesh. No wonder my parents hated politics.

But that revelation delivered a prickled reminder that I was avoiding thinking of my parents. Thankfully, all of my thoughts screeched to a halt when Killian laughed.

Like, he actually tipped his head back and laughed.

Ira, myself, Celestina, and even Josh eyed Killian with varying degrees of puzzlement and concern.

When his amusement finally subsided, Killian turned back to the car. “Wizard, come.”

“If you snap your fingers I will bite you,” I muttered, though I did turn to follow him.

When he slid into the back seat of the middle SUV, I made a beeline for the front passenger seat.

“In the back, Wizard,” Killian called.

I sighed and let my shoulders droop, but reluctantly closed the front door and clambered into the back seat.

When I first arrived at Drake Hall I didn’t like sitting in back because I knew if I breathed wrong, he’d kill me. Now I didn’t like sitting in back because being seated next to Killian and his dazzling looks in an enclosed space was a mixture of danger and nausea. (I mean, he knew he was handsome, and he wasn’t above using it.)

The door closed behind me—our driver’s work most likely, given that the door locked behind me, too. Which was petty! I hadn’t clawed my way out of sitting in the back with Killian. Yet.

“What was that about?” I peered through the window. Ira was still in the park, though he’d slunk back toward the playground equipment and watched us pull way over his shoulder.

“With such a vague question I have no possible way of knowing what you are talking about,” Killian carelessly said.

“Why did you laugh at Ira?” I asked.

“Because it’s hilarious.” The sparkle of humor had returned to his voice.

“In what way?”

“The fae are obviously intimidated by you at the very least—I’d say they must be even afraid, or he never would have uttered that ridiculous threat.”

“It didn’t feel ridiculous to me.”

“No, but you take self-preservation quite seriously—except when you decide not to.” The last line he uttered with more of a sneer.

“Huh?” I very intelligently replied.

“Occasionally your tendency to be a virtuous idiot will make you fling yourself into dangerous situations you should actively leave.”

“Are we finally talking about Solene?”

Killian said nothing and stared outside.

We had talked about the crazy vamp when I had woken up after the fight. Killian had read me into the situation, then gave me the dire warning that we’d talk about my stupidity in attacking Solene at a future date.

Except we never did. And while Killian never hesitated to allude to the incident and how stupid he thought I was to do it, he would never go farther than aggravated hints.

I looked into the rearview mirror, my eyes meeting the gaze of the vampire driving the car, shook my head, and shrugged.

The vampire only blinked back, but before I could try any other expressions out, Killian tossed something black at my face.

I caught it before it beaned me in the nose—thank you, Celestina, for all the training—and frowned. “What is it?”

“I thought it would have been obvious,” Killian said.

I turned the object over in my hands. “This is a smartphone.”

“Congratulations, you’re a genius.”

I swiped the screen, unlocking the phone. It had a bunch of numbers in the phone book, some basic apps, and someone had changed the background picture to a blue-hued lightning bolt—Celestina, maybe?

“You got me a cellphone?”

“It seemed better than having you run around stealing Drake cars.”

“I borrowed Rupert’s car—he got it back!” I studied the phone with a slight frown. “Is this really okay, though? Do I need to pay for the plan?”

Killian’s brows arched up. “Why?”

“Well…this isn’t going to be one of those favors that I really regret later because the price is too high, is it?” I asked.

Killian shrugged slightly and draped his arms over the back of the seat. “That’s more a fae’s style. And as stupid as you were in the execution of it, you’ve earned some of your keep.”

I stared down at the phone, surprised. Killian had never been hesitant to drop cash on me, but it had always been for things that were necessary—like clothes. He hadn’t bought anything personal like this. “Thank you.”

“We’ll see if you’re still thankful tomorrow.”

I eyed Killian, my suspicions renewed. “Why?”

Killian’s smile was so predatory, it made the hair on the back of my neck stick up. “We’re going to visit an old friend.”

After sunset the following day, Killian dragged me to a small grocery store on the edge of town.

“We don’t need a cart?” I asked.

We passed through the doors that dumped us in the fruit section, and Killian gave me a withering look. “I already told you, we’re here to find an old acquaintance. Why would we need a cart?”

“I don’t know, the kitchens might be out of milk and eggs or something,” I said. “I was being thoughtful.”

“Mmm. Come on.” I lingered for a moment, looking back, but none of the Drake vampires had followed me in. Whomever we were meeting, they must be relatively harmless.

I hurried after Killian, gazing longingly at the glazed donuts in the bakery display, then shivering as we tromped through the chilly meat section, followed by dairy. We walked the length of the building before darting into the freezer aisles—specifically the ice cream section.

An old man stood in the abandoned aisle, pressing his face against the freezer doors so he could view the ice cream flavors. “Rocky road—shall you seduce me again, you flirt? Or perhaps tonight is the night of mint chocolate chip?”

The old man was pretty eccentric—not just because he talked to ice cream flavors. Dressed in long draping robes that were a beautiful silver color and accented with dark blue embroidery of stars and crescent moons, the old man could have been mistaken for a video game character.

“Oh, it’s the Paragon,” I said.

The old man twisted around. “Oh—it’s you again,” he said when he saw Killian, though he paused when he noticed me. “And you brought your wizard?” He twisted the ends of his long silvery mustache—he must have used scoopfuls of beard wax or something to get the ends to curl. He looked like a ridiculous cartoon villain.