Black Magic (Black Records Book 1) Read online

  “Join us, Brody,” said Lorelai. “I want you to meet my good friend Alex.”

  “Hey,” said Brody as he came in for a handshake.

  “Hi,” I mumbled as I shook his hand.

  His skin was warm and soft, and I wondered idly if he’d ever worked an honest day in his life. He was far too good looking to have any brains, and I guessed him to be more comfortable giving advice on male skincare products than handling power tools or using a computer.

  “Well, isn’t this a cozy little gathering,” said Lorelai. “Should I put some music on? Maybe call Kumiko back in here? She gives the most amazing neck massages. Well, they’re terrible actually, but the massages always lead to her eating m—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said a little too loudly. Without realizing it, I’d stood up and thrust my palm out to reinforce my lack of interest in hearing any more about Kumiko or what special talents she might have.

  “Come on,” said Lorelai. “Relax a little Alex. You always did take a while to warm up to the idea of a party.”

  “I’m not here for that tonight, and you know it.”

  I hoped my voice came across more serious than it sounded in my head. It’s hard to describe what it’s like being in Lorelai’s presence. She was something more than a succubus, that much I knew, but she shared a enough of the same traits; almost irresistible sex-appeal chief among them. The more time I spent around her, the less I cared about anything but the kind of pleasure I’d come to believe only she could provide. Knowing what I was up against gave me some small protection from the effect, but I was already having a hard time remembering what was so important about coming to see her in the first place.

  I looked down at the empty glass in my hand. I couldn’t remember draining it, and I had to fight the urge to go pour another. I forced myself to sit back down, trying to ignore the lightheadedness which made me feel a little detached from my own skin.

  “Here, I’ll get you another drink,” said Brody.

  He snatched up my glass and was on his way to the sideboard before I could stop him. Lorelai simply sat there watching me with a look not unlike that of a cat eyeing a bird with a broken wing. It was as unnerving as it was appealing, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze for fear of giving in to her attempt to derail me from my line of questioning.

  “Why are you back in town?” I finally asked.

  She shrugged. “I like it here. Everyone is so pent up and moody in the winter, and I find it makes them more willing to let loose when an opportunity presents itself.”

  “So you can feed on them like you did me?” I asked.

  If Brody was concerned about what I’d said, it didn’t show on his face when he returned with my drink. His charming smile didn’t break for a second as he stood above me with hand outstretched, waiting for me to accept the proffered glass.

  I took it and immediately set it on the table where I could hopefully keep from sipping at it just because it was in my hand.

  “You make it sound so sinister,” said Lorelai. “It’s nothing as evil as you believe it is. Brody will tell you that spending time in my company comes with more positive than negative side effects.”

  “It’s true,” he said, beaming his annoying smile at me. “It can be a bit… draining at times, but this is the happiest I’ve ever been. I wouldn’t trade my connection to Lorelai for anything in the world.”

  “Well, I’m happy for you,” I said, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

  I turned back to Lorelai.

  “I, however, am being paid to find out what happened to Norman Weathersby, and I can’t shake the idea you’re somehow involved in all of this.”

  “You’re going to have to try harder then, because I had nothing to do with Norman’s death.”

  “And the artifact?” I asked. “You had nothing to do with whatever was stolen from him?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “You’ll have to forgive me for not believing a word you say.”

  “Alex,” she cooed. “I never lied to you. Oh sure, I may not have corrected some mistaken assumptions you made about the nature of our relationship, but that’s hardly my fault now, is it?”

  The glass of bourbon had seemingly teleported back into my hand. Although I knew it was far from the best course of action, I slammed its contents back in one, savoring the warmth of it as it tumbled into my stomach. I still hadn’t been able to fully parse my feelings from the time I’d spent with Lorelai before walking out on her, and now those same violent emotions all fought for dominance in my alcohol-muddled brain.

  “I don’t like seeing you like this, Alex.” Lorelai got up and came towards me, settling down on the couch close enough that her leg pressed against mine. “I’m back in town for my own reasons, and I swear to you I had nothing to do with Norman’s death. I liked him more than I like most humans, and although I’ve heard whispers of how valuable his latest acquisition was, you should know I’m not interested in that sort of thing.”

  She touched my thigh with her middle finger, running it slowly up the length of my leg until she reached the edge of my skirt.

  Lorelai leaned close, her lips brushing my cheek. “I get more than enough of what I need without having to resort to silly props and gadgets.”

  Her breath was hot on my skin and I was painfully aware of every inch of where her leg touched mine. A deep and powerful longing welled up within me, and I struggled to keep it from overriding my rational side. There weren’t many people I’d allowed to get as close as Lorelai had. Whatever feelings of anger and betrayal I felt for her, it was hard to ignore how safe and wanted she made me feel. I knew I could afford to stay for a few hours, to indulge in what my body now cried out for. Norman would still be dead tomorrow, and it wasn’t like I had any real leads to follow up on.

  I tilted my head, expecting to be face to face with Lorelai, but all I saw was Brody still standing off to the side of the room as though waiting for his next opportunity to play manservant.

  “I don’t want to widen the rift between us,” said Lorelai.

  I turned back to see her still sitting in her chair, a coffee table and several feet of space between us. I wanted to cross that space, to forget about the job and the artifact and every other stupid thing in my life, but something kept me from following through. I sat still and waited, wondering what she’d throw at me next.

  “There’s another dealer I’ve had the displeasure of working with,” said Lorelai. “He’s not as friendly as Norman, nor is he all that keen on unsolicited visitors. He might know more about the artifact or who would be interested enough to kill for it.”

  “Can you set up a meet?” I asked, voice cracking and catching in my parched throat.

  Lorelai shook her head. “I’m afraid Felix and I are on the outs after a bit of bad business last time I was in town. I can tell you where to find him though.”

  I stood up and fought the violent head rush that set the room spinning. My legs threatened to give out from beneath me. My lips were impossibly dry.

  “Where can I find him then?” I managed to ask.

  “I’ll give you the address, but I don’t think you should go alone. Brody can drive you and help keep you safe.”

  “I can take care of myself,” I said, feeling like nothing less than a petulant child. Still, the last thing I wanted was to have one of Lorelai’s pets tagging along.

  “I have no doubt you can,” she said, “but I’d feel better if he went along with you anyway. If there’s a powerful artifact in play, I’d like to know more about it. Consider it a favor in exchange for me leading you to Felix.”

  I looked at Brody standing there with his default expression of ignorant bliss. He didn’t seem to care that Lorelai had offered him up as a babysitter, and I wondered how in control of his own will he was.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll take him along with me for this, but that’s it. After I meet with the dealer, he’s out of the picture.”
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  “Fair enough,” said Lorelai. “Brody, why don’t you make yourself a little more presentable?”

  “Of course,” he said, leaving to presumably put on some clothes.

  “I’m not going to be happy if I find out you’re lying to me,” I said when Lorelai and I were alone. “I’m not the girl I was when you were last here. I’ve learned a few things about how to handle myself around people like you.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but her smile never faded. “Of that I have no doubt. I assure you your concerns about my intentions are quite unfounded, but I understand you need time to work that out for yourself.”

  I was saved from having to think of a response by Brody re-entering the room. He’d put on a pair of faded black jeans and a partially buttoned red flannel shirt, somehow managing to exude more sex-appeal than when he’d been wearing nothing but a towel.

  “Ready to go?” he asked, annoying smile still glued to his face.

  I turned and made a beeline for the door, determined not to look back at Lorelai on my way out.

  Chapter Four

  “This is your car?”

  I stared at the sleek lines of the vehicle’s jet black body. I didn’t know much about cars, but it was obvious this one wasn’t the kind of thing your average nine-to-fiver could afford. Everything about its beautifully contoured design screamed for attention. As much as I hated to admit it, the effect was working on me. The thing looked like raw sex forged into metal and glass. It was perfect for a guy like Brody.

  “Lotus Evora,” Brody said as he clicked the alarm button on his key fob. The pride in his voice was obvious. “You like it?”

  I trailed my finger along the aerodynamic groove in the side of the vehicle, pausing before pulling the door handle.

  “It’s not exactly low key,” I said. “Didn’t Lorelai say this guy we’re looking for was easily spooked?”

  Brody shrugged. “There are plenty of cars like this in Yaletown. We’ll fit right in.”

  He walked up behind me and stood a little closer than I was entirely comfortable with. Buzzed as I was from a half dozen too many shots of bourbon, I still wasn’t anywhere near ready to let things get out of hand like this.

  “Um, you know this isn’t a date, right?” I said, turning and leaning back into the car to keep some space between us.

  “Yeah, I know this isn’t a date,” he said. “But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you drive.”

  I stared at him blankly for a second before following his eyes to the steering wheel that jutted out from what should have been the passenger side glove compartment.

  “Oh,” I mumbled, slipping out from between him and the car to make my way around to the other side.

  I pulled open the door and slid into the blood red leather bucket seats. As comfortable as they were, I felt a little cramped and claustrophobic jammed into such a small space.

  “They make left side drive cars for the international market,” explained Brody as he settled in beside me, “but I had this one shipped over from England.”

  “Of course you did.”

  He turned the key in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. Rather than growling and shaking like I’d expected it to, the car purred softly until Brody punched the gas and pulled out onto the dark and empty street. I didn’t spend a lot of time in cars, what with my lack of a license and any real friends who owned cars of their own, but I was pretty sure the speed at which streetlights lights flashed by overhead was a sign that we were doing well over the city speed limit.

  Brody pressed a button on the touchscreen embedded into the dash, filling the car with electronic music blasted at such a high volume it threatened to rupture my eardrums. I’m all for loud music, but the heavy thump of the bass kicking through the car’s interior and into my chest was too much to handle alongside the flashing of city lights streaking by outside the window. My chest tightened and my throat closed up. Tiny fireworks exploded in the corners of my vision. The spastic bassline hijacked my heartbeat, and I gasped audibly when the song dropped into a guttural cacophony of electronic distortion. It was enough to kick me into the first stage of a panic attack.

  Did I mention I have a problem with enclosed spaces? Despite the windows and the fact that I knew I had a door handle right next to me, I felt trapped and rattled at being stuck in a tiny little box hurtling through the city at who knew what speed. The hum of the car’s engine vibrated through my seat, and I yelped involuntarily when Brody hit the clutch and shifted into an even higher gear.

  I reached out to for the volume control, but there was no obvious knob. I mashed the digital display, hoping to find an obvious way to turn down the music. Instead I somehow activated the navigation and set it on a course for some place called Spuzzum, BC.

  Feeling more and more panicky, I shut my eyes and touched my magic. I didn’t know exactly what sort of spell I was about to form until it spilled out of me. Energy flowed free and swallowed the car in a muffled whump that left dead silence in its wake. There was no music, no low growl of the car’s engine, nothing at all —just an unnatural void.

  A confused Brody downshifted and swerved off to a spot by the curb. He turned to me with an anxious look, his lips and throat working in an obvious attempt at speech that produced not even a whisper of sound. I tried to tell him I couldn’t hear him, but my own voice was dead in my lungs. The silence was so absolute I couldn’t even hear my own breathing.

  Panicking even more now, I fought to keep from hyperventilating by taking a series of long and slow breaths. I reminded myself that I was still drawing breath, and I double-checked that I wasn’t actually suffocating because I’d accidentally cut us both off from our oxygen supply. The spell had merely muted the transmission of audio waves in a way I hadn’t even known was possible.

  It was only then I realized I was actively holding the spell in place.

  I let my control of it slip away immediately, and the heavy thumping bass and driving electronic loops came crashing back in to fill the space. Brody reached out and tapped the screen a few times, cutting off the music and canceling my fumbled activation of the GPS.

  “What the fuck was that?” he shouted.

  A familiar dull pain took root in my frontal lobe, pulsing almost as intensely as the music had been a moment ago. My throat felt like I’d tried to swallow a roll of pennies, and as I rooted through my bag looking for something to chew on, I cursed myself for using far more of my energy than was wise. Alcohol and magic rarely paired well together. A lowered state of awareness meant lack of control, and I’d unleashed the impromptu spell with way more intensity than was good for me.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I freaked out a little from the speed and the music and how small this stupid car is.”

  My window buzzed a little as it sank into the doorframe, and I felt cool night air blow into the car.

  “Take a breath,” said Brody. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  “I wasn’t scared,” I said a little too quickly to be believable. “It’s just that I have this thing about tight spaces and crashing into an oncoming car while doing a hundred miles per hour.”

  “First of all, I was not doing a hundred miles per hour,” said Brody. “It was a hundred kilometers per hour tops.”

  I snorted loudly to show him what I thought of his distinction.

  “Second,” he continued, “I’m sorry about the music. I had them install an aftermarket subwoofer, and it gets a little intense sometimes. I can see how that might have made you uncomfortable if you were already feeling a little stressed.”

  “Can you maybe drive a little slower?” I asked. “It’s important we go talk to this guy. I don’t want to end up in jail or in the back of an ambulance tonight.”

  “They don’t arrest you for speeding anyway,” he said, almost to himself. “It’s only a little ticket.”

  Brody restarted the car and pulled back out onto the street, this time keeping it at a more reasonable speed. He wasn�
�t shoulder checking or signaling his lane changes, but somehow we zipped past the few cars on the road without incident.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot,” he said as he shifted up a gear.

  “What are you doing hanging out with Lorelai?”

  Brody glanced at me before turning his attention back to the road. “You want to know if I know what she really is.”

  “Do you?”

  “Not entirely,” he said. “I know she’s not human, and I know she feeds off sexual energy somehow, but beyond that I don’t have a clue about the details.”

  I studied his face as orange-hued light of the overhead streetlamps washed over him then blinked out of sight behind us, only to be replaced by the next in line.

  “That doesn’t bother you?” I asked. “You don’t care she’s somehow feeding off your energy?”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s great. I was working at a steak house in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho, before I met Lorelai. Somehow I ended up at a party of hers, and next thing I know I’m practically living at her house. It all happened so fast I don’t remember many of the specifics, but all of a sudden I was getting these offers for acting and modeling gigs. The job I did in London last month paid for this car. Before that we were in Paris for a while. Did you know they eat goose liver and snails there? Fucking epic.”

  I winced a little as Brody put pressure on the gas pedal and slipped us through a yellow light that flashed red as we passed beneath it. The only thing more disturbing than Brody’s need for speed was the idea of Lorelai spending time anywhere near Idaho. I’d always thought Vancouver was her way of slumming it in the sticks, but it seemed she wasn’t as picky as I’d thought.

  “So you just follow her around?”

  “For the last six months, yeah.”

  Brody pulled out onto a busier street. He snapped the steering wheel hard to the right, swerving around a car trying to make a left hand turn. He shifted gears again, and the engine hummed louder as he sped over the bridge leading to downtown.