Eleven Years Later

Keira opened her door and peeked out into the long hallway spanning the first floor of Were Calls, the Were bordello where she lived and worked. Empty. Good. It was the middle of the afternoon, always a slow time. Her last customer had just left. Maybe, if she snuck out the rear door, she could claim a few hours of freedom. She ducked back into the room she shared with one of the other indentured hookers, donned a cloak and boots, and walked down the hall, making as little noise as possible.

The air was crisper than she’d expected as she eased the door shut behind her. Keira wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she’d brought a warmer coat. Most of her working clothes were wispy and suggestive. At least she’d been smart enough to put on tattered jeans, a moth-eaten sweater, and her favorite black cloak. For once it wasn’t raining. A pallid sun hung midway to the western horizon, bathing what were once busy urban streets with sallow light.

Keira emptied her mind, trying not to feel like she was playing hooky. It wasn’t as if the Weres kept her prisoner… She glanced at her left arm. Under the sweater and cape, she could’ve sworn the indenture bracelet spanning her upper arm tightened.

Who am I trying to kid? They can find me anytime they want.

She walked briskly through Seattle’s Queen Anne district. Keira had the streets to herself today, but then she usually did. Good thing too. Those like her, mixed-blood magic wielders with minimal power, were at pretty much everyone else’s mercy. Bottom of the New World totem pole.

She gazed over urban rot, some parts worse than others, and grimaced. Buildings still stood, a few of them, anyway. But most of the glass had been rocked out. Piles of trash blocked the roadways. Cars were a thing of the past. Out-of-control garbage had obliterated the sidewalks long ago. Paths wound through it, carved by varieties of magic wielders and prowling beasts. She made a point of ignoring what was underfoot. Most of it was too gross to even consider. It was a damned shame so many humans had been wiped out during the war. They’d taken care of things like garbage collection.

She pretended to consider what to do with her freedom, knowing her deliberations were a sham. She’d do the same thing she always did: head for Barrett’s magician’s shop. Housed in a cavernous Victorian on lower Capitol Hill, it was only about an hour’s walk from the Were bordello. With its dark wood furniture, Oriental carpets, and overflowing shelves, the shop exuded an irresistible, homey atmosphere.

Face it. The thing that makes it so enticing is Barrett.

Keira smiled to herself as she pictured the tall, broad-shouldered Daoine Sidhe with his thick, coppery hair and pale blue eyes. Beyond his obvious beauty, though, he seemed kind. Not that she’d ever exchanged more than a few words with him, but he had laugh lines in the corners of his eyes, and she’d watched him interact with other customers. He was always helpful, doing that little bit extra to assist someone find something. There was still bad blood among magic wielders, but not in Barrett’s shop. Everyone was granted equal status there. Never mind Daoine Sidhe magic was far more powerful than Were, Fae, or Witch. Druid magic barely counted; it was nearly as feeble as hers.

The first time she’d stumbled into Barrett’s shop, it was by accident. She’d gotten into a big blow up with Simon, one of the staff at Were Calls, for refusing to service a customer in his animal form. Simon slapped her, which was a big no-no. Punishment was supposed to be delivered through her bracelet per the terms of her indenture.

Keira had never seen Simon quite so angry, and she wasn’t inclined to wait around to see what he’d do next. Despite being in her hooker garb, including high heels, she’d raced out the door and ran until her arches ached. It hadn’t helped when the skies opened, and it began to pour. Not knowing what else to do—because she was not going back to Were Calls until things cooled down, or they zapped her through the bracelet—she opened her magic senses. They led her straight to Barrett’s shop. It was only a couple of blocks from where she’d stopped.

Keira had pushed the heavy, carved wooden door open, ready to bolt if anyone so much as looked cross-eyed at her. No one did. The shop smelled heavenly. Herbs. Lots of them. They hung in bundles from a raised walkway, ten feet off the ground, which accessed a partial second story. Feeling a bit braver, she let her gaze roam about the large room, crowded with shelves. No one paid her the slightest attention, which was amazing since all the other patrons were garbed in cloaks and coats. She glanced at her low-cut top, barely-there micro mini, and high heeled boots and winced. Her top didn’t leave much to the imagination since it was half-soaked through. Because she was cold, her nipples had pebbled into suggestive peaks.

Embarrassed, she skittered behind a bank of shelves and worked her way around the outside wall of the shop, appreciating being out of the weather. Her eyes widened at the variety of wares for sale. She lingered over things she couldn’t identify and hustled past things she wanted but could never afford. Along the way, she summoned a tiny bit of magic to help dry her clothes.

Keira recalled hearing the Weres talk about Barrett’s shop. It was the only place left that still sold magician’s accoutrements and supplies. Three-quarters of the way through her transit of the shop, a musical baritone voice caught her attention. She stopped and looked for its owner. He stood behind the counter, wrapping a package and counting out change. Because he was occupied, it seemed safe to let her attention linger on him.

What a beautiful man. When he patted a Witch’s hand before handing her the packet he’d wrapped, Keira wondered what those hands would feel like on her. The shop suddenly grew much warmer, and she bit back a laugh. Sex was plentiful in her life, no reason to moon over a man. Several would no doubt be waiting for her back at Were Calls.

She’d just decided to edge a bit closer to the counter, drawn by the Daoine Sidhe’s magnetism, when the bracelet on her arm tightened. Keira ignored it, but it only tightened more. She knew how the game worked. The Weres tracked her with electronics. Once she headed for Were Calls, the bracelet would leave her alone—as long as she kept moving. If she stopped for too long once they’d warned her, the next event would be a shock.

Keira had scuttled out of Barrett’s store that day, but she hadn’t stayed gone long. Every time she left the bordello, it was where she ended up. She spun fantasies about what it would be like if she were free and could offer to work for Barrett. Just the thought of being close to him for long hours each day made her heart speed up.

Don’t be foolish, she chided herself as she reached the now-familiar door and pushed her way into the magic shop. He’s Daoine Sidhe. He’d never be interested in a mixed blood like me.

She walked to a locked case with crystals and gazed at them. A beautiful rose quartz one she’d lusted over was gone. Damn! She’d been working up her courage to ask if she could hold it in her hand to feel its energy.

Keira never bought anything; she didn’t have the money. She’d felt apologetic her first few visits, but now that she’d been there so many times, she felt confident Barrett wasn’t going to throw her out.

“Can I help you find something?”

Keira froze. It was him. She’d know Barrett’s voice anywhere. She heard it in her dreams, and sometimes she imagined one of her johns was him. In her imagination, he crooned to her in that wonderful voice and…

He tapped her shoulder. “Miss. May I help you?”

Keira spun to face him. Her face heated, and she knew she had spots of color high on both cheeks. “Uh, no. I’m just looking.” Responding to something, maybe a small spell, maybe just an invitation in those wonderful ice-blue eyes, she stammered on, “The rose quartz crystal—”

“I sold it. Just yesterday. It was one of my favorites as well. If you’re interested, I should be getting a new shipment soon, but the crystals are all unique. If there’s one you like, just let me know, and I can ascertain if it pairs well with your energy.”

“I, um, you see, I can’t really afford anything like that. I just like to look.”

“It’s okay. I get lots of lookers here.”

Barrett smiled at her. Gazed into her eyes and smiled right at her. Keira’s heart stuttered. She opened her mouth and closed it again when words wouldn’t come. Unable to help herself, she took a step toward him and stumbled.

He placed a hand under her elbow to steady her. “Got you.”

An electric shock ran up her arm. Her breathing quickened.

You don’t know the half of it. You’ve more than got me.

Heart thudding, throat dry, she smiled, managed to murmur, “Thank you,” and scuttled toward the door before she did something stupid like throw herself at his feet and beg him to take her.

Here.

Now.

On the floor in front of everyone.

Barrett gazed after the fleeing girl. His cock pressed against the front of his worn breeches, as hard as it ever got. It throbbed hotly, urging him to go after her, run her down, drag her back to his bed, and… He shook his head. What had gotten into him? He was well beyond the age where he let his penis lead him around.

The girl was unbelievably beautiful. Her blonde hair was so long it reached her ass. She had an arresting face with high cheekbones, lush lips, and silver eyes. He’d thought only his race had eyes that color, and they were rare even among the Daoine Sidhe. But the ache in his groin went beyond her beauty. There was something about her, a purity of spirit that called to him. When he’d tried to sense her magic to see just what she was, he ran up against a wall. Almost as if she were warded. It wasn’t something she was doing on purpose, though. If it was, he’d have seen it in her mind. No, it was more like a magical barrier surrounded her.

He usually didn’t pay any attention to the hordes of customers frequenting his shop. After all, it was the only one of its kind left. He expected it to be full to overflowing with patrons. He’d noticed the girl, though, the very first time she snuck in. Wet to the bone, her full breasts, tipped with wonderfully erect nipples, had been clearly visible through the thin fabric of her top. She’d taken to the outer wall and worked her way around the shop that day. Curious about her, he’d spun a mild compulsion spell to reel her in closer. He still didn’t know what happened. She’d been moving toward him when something shifted, and she scampered out of his shop like the dogs of Hell were nipping at her heels.

Sort of like she did today.

He chuckled, not caring that a pair of Witches eyed him oddly. He’d spoken with the girl a few times, but today’s conversation was by far and away the longest. Though he liked to see himself as immune to women, this one frequented his dreams. He often woke with his hand pumping his shaft as he fantasized about the girl with no name. In his favorite vision, she was astride him, firm breasts pressed against his chest and long, blonde hair tickling his naked flesh.

Determined to at least find out where she lived before her trail grew cold, he glanced about the store. Too many customers to get rid of. He strode to Baen, a Witch who’d fought on their side during the war. “Could you watch the register for me? Sorry, but it’s a bit of an emergency. I won’t be gone more than an hour or two.”

She raised perfectly formed red brows in her ageless, porcelain-skinned face. “For you. Of course,” she purred.

“Thanks.” Barrett kicked himself. He’d forgotten Baen had been trying to worm her way into his bed for a couple of years. Then he stopped thinking and sprinted out the door. Barrett threw his magic senses wide open, searching. He blew out a relieved sigh. There she was. Her track would be easy to follow. He’d been afraid the same magic that cloaked what she was would hide her trail as well.

He warded himself, so his power wouldn’t tip her off and followed her back to Were Calls.

Son of a bitch. She’s a hooker.

From his vantage point behind some stacks of trash, Barrett felt incredulous. How did the Weres ever get someone that gorgeous to trick for them? What he knew fell into place. She had to be indentured. It was why he couldn’t get close enough with magic to sense what she was. The Weres must have some sort of microelectronic harness on her. He’d heard about them from the Fairies, who generated most electronic devices these days.

An indefinable sadness tugged at him. He felt the heaviness in the pit of his stomach. Barrett waited until the door shut. He’d heard a man shouting at the girl from where he was, all the way across the street. It was a struggle not to go pound on the door, tell them he’d buy her bond, and be done with it. Even if she didn’t want him, at least she’d be free.

Barrett took a deep breath and then one more. Get back to the shop, he instructed himself sharply. The last thing I need is emotional entanglements. So he wouldn’t be tempted to change his mind, he pulled magic, visualized his shop, and left in a hurry.

At least the girl wasn’t a mystery anymore. It explained why she’d been so tentative in his shop. He was surprised the Weres let their property roam about freely, but then he remembered the Covenant. Even the indentured had some rights. Weres had been the only ones who wanted indentured servants. The others had argued vehemently against them. Especially the Fairies. In the end, the other magic wielders had capitulated because the Weres were ready to walk out on fragile negotiations. And they weren’t signing anything that didn’t let them keep their pet servants.

Barrett stood in front of his shop for a few moments composing himself. Now that he knew more, he’d have a better chance of approaching the girl next time she came to his shop.

I thought I didn’t need any emotional tangles, an inner voice mocked him.

Barrett ignored it. He nodded to himself, certain she’d show up again. Something about his shop drew her. Maybe it was an antidote to the life she led. He pushed open the door and went inside.

“There you are.” Baen settled a hand familiarly on his arm.

“Yes.” He forced himself to smile brightly. “Thank you so much. Here.” He broke away from her grip. “Let me pay you.”

“Not necessary. Maybe I could stay for a bit after you close—” She leered suggestively and licked full, red lips.

Barrett blew out a breath. “I’m flattered, but no. I do not want you in my bed.”

Her eyes widened. “I-I’m not sure where you got that idea,” she sputtered, color staining her face.

“Because I’m very good at reading body language. And minds. Thanks for watching the shop. Now, if it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon end this conversation.”

Her lips drew back into a snarl. Magic spooled so hot it turned the air incandescent. Barrett steeled himself, sure she was going to launch herself at him and go for his eyes. Instead, she spun on her heel and strode toward the door, hips swinging as if to say, see what you missed, buddy.

Barrett blew out a tired breath and settled himself in his customary seat behind the counter. He hoped there wouldn’t be any repercussions from the Witches because Baen was angry. From long habit, he scanned the shop, alert for any sign of trouble. Today everyone seemed to be getting along. He shut his eyes. The girl materialized in the darkness, her silver eyes aglow.

Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow, I’ll at least find out her name…