Hands of Fate a Wayward Mage Prequel Page 2

  “Just the three of us,” I said. “Your five minutes begins now.”

  Whirring from overhead disabused my “just the three of us” observation. A flock of hawks and crows scribed patterns in the air above our heads. All it would take would be the slightest indication from me, and they’d descend on Blake and his fancy set of wheels. You’d be surprised how much damage beaks can do to aluminum, steel, and paint.

  Blake cast a glance skyward. “You have quite the following.”

  “Down to four minutes,” I replied and snapped my fingers.

  He nodded and faced me squarely. “The rumor was you command animals. I can see for myself it’s true, and—”

  I held up a hand. “I do not command anyone. They do my bidding because they adore me. I was born with links to all living creatures, including insects. It’s been helpful when I’ve been in warmer climes. Scorpions are a better deterrent than any type of magic.”

  He laughed. It was unexpected, and surprisingly warm. “There’s never been another mage quite like you.”

  I narrowed my eyes and worked to identify the inflection beneath his words. Finally, I gave up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re one of a kind and ideally suited for the problem I’ve run up against.” He drew his dark brows together. “I suppose I’m down to three minutes now, so I’d better get cracking. Long ago, over five centuries, I was lord over the Highlands.”

  “News to me,” I muttered. I’d been here during that time, and I’d never so much as caught a glimpse of him.

  “From a magical perspective,” he clarified.

  I shook my head. “Still not buying it. The Celts were in ascendency, not the Sidhe.”

  “We ran things from the, ah, sidelines.” An exasperated breath puffed from between his lips. “I’m certain you remember what prima donnas the Celtic gods were. They required kid-glove treatment, and—”

  “Hush!” I hissed. “Haven’t seen them for a long while, but they may have set sentinels in the stones. Speaking ill of them was never tolerated.”

  Blake nodded. “I rest my case. Prima donnas. Delicate. Required a whole lot of praise, often when it wasn’t merited. Frankly, we all breathed a sigh of relief when they left.

  “But I’m off on a sidetrack, and you requested the quick and dirty version. During the middle of the 1400s, a clan war grew ugly. About what you’d expect from that era. Feuding families, an ill-advised love affair, and treachery at its finest.”

  I creased my forehead in thought; his words took me back to vague memories, but clans at odds with each other were scarcely an anomaly back then. More of an exception would have been long periods of relative peace. He watched me, waiting for me to say something.

  “Go on,” I urged.

  He nodded. “The scene of this particular disaster was Rait Castle, and—”

  “I remember that,” I broke in. “Laird Cummings was a total rotter. More’s the pity he wasn’t counted among the dead that day.”

  “A little-known fact,” Blake continued smoothly, “was his daughter was a changeling. One of us. It was why she was attracted to the MacIntosh lad.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “He was one as well?”

  “Um-hum, and under my protection.” Blake twisted his mouth into a sour expression. “You can see how well I fulfilled my obligation.” He hesitated for a beat, perhaps arranging his thoughts. He needn’t have. My five-minute limit had flown straight out the window.

  “I rescued my changeling after her father cut off her hands. I’d have restored them—and her—but she forbade me. I assumed she’d come to her senses sooner or later, except it never happened. She preferred weeping and mourning her lost love. Years passed, and my band of Sidhe prepared to relocate. I came to her, offered to bring her with us, but she blamed us for her misfortunes. Said if we hadn’t stolen her parents’ human child—for our own nefarious purposes—she’d never have ended up stuck between the human and magical worlds.”

  I cocked my head to one side. “True enough. What happened to the fellow from the other clan? I assumed he was killed, but if he was a changeling as well…”

  “His power was considerably stronger than hers. When I found his body, his spirit and his magic were long gone. He’d discarded one form and latched onto another.”

  “You never found him?”

  “Nay, and I deployed scouts.”

  I digested what he’d said so far. Above us, the birds had settled into slow, steady circles as they kept a close eye on me. Becca stood quietly by my side, clearly intrigued by Blake’s tale.

  “It’s all quite interesting,” I told him, “but I’m not seeing where I fit in.”

  “Because I haven’t gotten to that part yet,” he said and rocked from foot to foot. “I have tea in the car. May I offer you some?”

  I arched a brow. “Nope.”

  His chiseled lips twitched with amusement. “Not in my best interest to poison you.”

  “Maybe not, but you do want something. Eventually, you’ll get around to spitting it out.” I stopped shy of mentioning both food and drink could be laced with compliance spells.

  “I will, indeed. I had business in this region. Complaints of a Cait Sith reached me. They don’t belong on Earth. Members of my court offered to come in my stead, but I hadn’t left the southlands in quite some time and was in the mood for a journey.”

  “Why Galloway?” I inserted a sidebar.

  “Because it’s near a portal to Underhill.”

  At least he was answering my questions. “Mmph. Cait Sith is another name for Cait Sidhe, right?”

  He nodded reluctantly, as if loathe to claim any relationship with the renegade cat. “The Cait wasn’t hard to locate, but he is impervious to my power.”

  I rode herd on the “aw gee” and “poor baby” that danced in the back of my throat. As a mage with relatively modest power, I’d be damned if I’d feel sorry for the Daoine Sidhe, whose magic was limitless by comparison.

  Spinning a hand, I said, “Keep going. We’re closing on why you chased me down.”

  “Aye, we are. When I dug deeper, the reason the Cait could resist me was he’d glommed onto Roya’s magic. Between the two of them, he’s set himself up as laird over the other Cait Sidhe. They’re not pleased.”

  A light crackled to life over my head. “They’re who called you. The other Cait.”

  “Aye.”

  “Roya must be Laird Cumming’s daughter. The one who lost her hands.”

  A curt nod validated my comment.

  “Are you certain she was a reluctant recruit?” I asked.

  “Nay, I’m not.”

  I rolled my shoulders straighter. “You want me to deal with the Cait.”

  Blake bobbed his head up and down. “Exactly. Tell him he must release Roya, and—”

  “What if it was a mutual pact?” I asked and hurried on. “Even if it weren’t, my gifts don’t work like that. Creatures follow me because they’re drawn to my type of magic. I don’t do anything special. It just happens. If the Cait resisted you, what makes you think he’ll want anything to do with me?”

  “We will work together. I will conceal myself, and—”

  “Oh hell no. I’ve never deceived an animal. Not certain I’m capable of it. If I did, word would spread, and no one would trust me anymore.”

  He frowned. “Hadn’t considered that angle.”

  I gave him points for admitting he wasn’t perfect. How would he do with me taking the lead on this problem? No time like the present to find out. “Tell you what,” I said and watched him closely. “Meet me at midnight at the ruins of Rait Castle. We’ll see what unfolds.”

  Whatever I’d expected it wasn’t him grabbing my hand and kissing the back of it. “Thank you, Abria. I shall be forever in your debt.”

  Tingles began where his lips touched my hand. As they passed up my arm, they turned to a long blast of desire that stole my breath. I snatched my hand back and did my damnedest to cloak my obvious reaction to him.

  “Be careful of promises,” I warned. “We may not meet with success, and you might end up furious with me, if events don’t proceed as you expect.”

  “My word is my vow and not dependent on outcomes. See you in a few hours.” He bowed low, turned, and retreated to his car.

  Becca and I stood and watched him drive away. The birds had departed at some point, and I vaulted onto the unicorn’s back. For the next hour, we rode along in silence, enjoying the still-sunny day, a soft breeze, and relative solitude.

  “What do you make of that?” Becca asked.

  I didn’t have to ask for clarification. “Not sure. Have you heard about a group of Cait Sidhe around the Rait Castle ruins?”

  “No, but I’ll ask the others.”

  It was a sound plan. I’d ask as well. She left me next to my Range Rover with promises to be at the assigned meeting spot at midnight with a few other unicorns. Her support warmed me. No better warrior than a unicorn since they can end the immortal. Dragons can too, but I hadn’t seen one of them in the Highlands in over 300 years.

  As I drove back to my closet of an office on the outskirts of Inverness, Blake’s dark hair and penetrating wicked eyes kept intruding. No matter how hard I tried to push him to a back burner, he bounced back. When I started imagining how he’d look sans clothing, how his hands would feel trailing across my flesh, I put a lid on it.

  Tried to.

  My trysts have been limited to mortals for the best of reasons. Other mages don’t like me, but it’s generally mutual. And my interest in a forever relationship with another immortal falls into the less-than-zero range.

  So what was I doing giving Blake access to a huge chunk of mental real estate? Good question. No answers jumped to the fore.

  To divert myself, I dredged out my phone, breaking the law about cell phones and driving, and checked messages and texts with one eye, keeping the other on the road.

  It’s just tonight, I told myself. He’ll be gone after that. Surely, I can keep it professional for a few hours.

  Famous last words. Why was I so certain they’d come round to bite me in the butt?

  Chapter Two

  As I slogged through my afternoon, talking with clients and researching fixes to problems, parts of Blake’s story bothered me. If Roya had truly been a changeling, why hadn’t she levied power against her father—before he chopped off her hands.

  The only explanation I could gin up was she’d always resented her magical side and had never learned to use it. Power is like any other talent. Even if the substrate exists, it still requires practice to whip it into useable shape. As I turned things over and over, looking for patterns, I decided her association with the Cait had likely been forced on her.

  If she’d rejected Blake and the Daoine Sidhe, she wouldn’t have willingly linked her fortunes with another variant of Sidhe. Caits were notoriously difficult to get along with. Aloof like their cat side, they were kind of a my-way-or-the-highway bunch. Roya had been alone for over half a millennium. What possible inducement could the Cait have offered to entice her?

  None that I could envision.

  At least I wasn’t thinking about Blake. Not directly, anyway.

  Another question was why place two changelings in the same spot? What was it about Rait Castle that had drawn the Sidhe’s attention? I’ve never been part of a Sidhe inner circle, but my primitive understanding of changelings was the Sidhe always had ulterior motives when swapping out one of their own for human babies. Motives that extended beyond whatever they did with the infants, which wasn’t pretty.

  Let’s just say none of those little ones ever grew up.

  Even though no one was riding herd on me or breathing down my neck, I made a good-faith effort to keep normal business hours. Nine to seventeen hundred, four days a week. When Blake had groused I was tough to find, I’d known he was lying. All he would have had to do was stop by my office and read my posted hours.

  And wait.

  Yeah. That last part was a showstopper. He probably wasn’t in the habit of waiting for anyone. Running on autopilot, I closed out my day. Receipts were flowing well this month, not that it mattered. I didn’t need money, but I did appreciate my job. It ate up time, which I had a whole lot of. Absent my detective business, I didn’t know quite what I’d do with myself.

  I’ve been a lot of things over the years. Until recently, those endeavors fell within the magical realm. Science put the kibosh on that, so I’ve become creative. Working alone was critical since I frequently utilized my gifts—or animal spies and associates—to solve cases.

  Anyway, things were perfect for now. I’d figure something else out when this well ran dry. My one-bedroom apartment was right above my office. Kept things convenient. I opened a couple of cans for dinner, showered, and dressed in dark trousers, a black stretchy top, and a faded jacket that had once been black but was now more gray than anything. Stout brown boots completed my Nancy Drew-for-hire outfit.

  All the while I congratulated myself on not lusting after Blake constantly. The quick flares of heat didn’t count. I tried to come up with more about our task that might prove useful, but I’d thought it into the ground. I felt a tiny bit sorry for Roya. She’d never had much of a say in her life, and now she had no life at all—unless you counted her ghostly haunting of Rait Castle.

  It’s always a good idea to show up early, so I was behind the wheel ninety minutes before our agreed-upon meeting time. My plan was to drive closer and teleport the rest of the way. I could have managed a travel spell from my house, but it would have depleted my magical stores for a couple of hours.

  I found a secluded parking spot about ten kilometers from Rait’s ruins and left the Range Rover. Taking more care than usual, I levied power for the rest of the journey, leaving myself about half a kilometer to walk. I opened my senses and my power while I was on the move, testing the area. Voices, small and otherwise, crowded into my mind.

  All the animals who lived nearby inquired if I needed them. Their devotion made me smile.

  “Maybe,” I sent back, followed by, “Caution. Danger could be near.”

  Variations of my flock vowing to protect me with their furry and feathered lives flowed through me until I called for quiet before the Cait came to investigate. I felt them too, strutting this way and that across the moor as if they’d claimed it as their own.

  Was that the true problem? Blake and the Daoine viewed all of the Old Country as their personal fiefdom. Since the Cait had never pledged allegiance to the rest of the Sidhe, their independence must grate. Another unanswered question was why Blake gave a crap about Roya. He’d intimated it was because of her Sidhe blood, but mages leave the fold all the time. No one goes after them—or hires someone else to—unless they play a critical role.

  It circled me back to the mystery of two changelings dropped near one another at the same point in time.

  As I walked, I gathered the bits of my seeking magic and reshaped it into a ward. What was left of the walls of Rait Castle came into view. Along with it, Cait Sidhe romped and danced on the castle green. An odd iteration of mage, they’re the size of an average mortal but in feline bodies. Preferring to walk upright, balanced on their hind legs, they appeared harmless.

  I knew better. I’d tangled with them a time or two. Their saliva is poison and their nails deadly sharp. One of their preferred tricks is opening flesh to bone level and spitting into the wound. No wonder they’d broken ranks with the other Sidhe, who viewed such tactics as unspeakably primitive.

  “We are here,” Becca announced in very private mind speech.

  Hopefully, we meant her and the other unicorns. Not wanting to call attention to myself or give away my position, I didn’t answer. Instead, I assessed the various Cait Sidhe. Didn’t take long to determine which one had shanghaied the handless maiden.

  Eh, probably shouldn’t call her a maid. My bet was she’d opened her legs for the MacIntosh lad. Nothing like stardust-laden lust to addle the brain. I swallowed a snort. The lust part was good advice for me where Blake was concerned. I’d searched for him when I was getting the lay of the land, but he wasn’t here yet.

  Or perhaps he was. With his magic, he could be squatting behind a ward and I’d never know the difference. Becca would, though. “Is Blake here?” I asked her.

  “Aye.”

  “Where?”

  A set of images flooded past. Interesting. He’d taken up a post inside the ruined tower. I’d never have thought to look there. For one thing, it’s a terrible position to fight from. The Cait could surround him, and he’d have hell’s own time kicking his way free.

  Except he wasn’t fighting. I was the front line. He’d said he’d stand with me, or some such thing, without fleshing out any of the details. We’d agreed he wouldn’t remain hidden. He’d welched. Part of me strongly considered teleporting back to my car and driving home. If it hadn’t been for Roya’s plight, I would have.

  Damn men, anyway. Magical or human, they’re all the same. You cannot count on them to honor their commitments—or be forthcoming with relevant details. He had something up his sleeve, but he’d neglected to include me in the loop.

  I fumed, but deep-sixed my anger. It was counterproductive, and one of my worst flaws. A few deep breaths centered me, so I added several more until my head was clear. I’ve always thought well on the fly—when I wasn’t immersed in fury—and a plan was shaping up. Like I’d told Blake, I’m not a shady adversary.

  Unlike him, I meet my problems head on.

  Sometimes it works, and sometimes I’m sorry I didn’t take a cagier approach. Usually, though, I’m dealing with mortals and their world. That wasn’t always true. Before magic was forced underground, plenty of my clients came from the mage realm. They might not like me and view my brand of enchantment as inferior, but it’s tough to argue with results.