Page 3 of Magic Unleashed

Finn gave a curt nod, already turning to pour a drink for another customer. Phoenix turned to leave, but a voice from the back of the bar stopped her in her tracks.

“Couldn’t stay out of trouble for even one night, could you?”

She stiffened, recognizing the deep, gravelly voice instantly. Griff Broussard. Detective. Dragon- shifter. And a thorn in her side for as long as she could remember. She turned to find himleaning casually against the bar, his piercing dark eyes locked on hers.

“I’m not the one causing trouble, Broussard,” she said, her tone clipped. “I’m the one cleaning it up.”

He grinned, the sharp edge of his smile sending an annoying jolt through her. “That’s not what I hear. Word on the street is you’ve been stirring up quite a bit of action tonight.”

“Word on the street should mind its own damn business,” Phoenix shot back, crossing her arms. “What are you doing here?”

Griff shrugged, his muscular frame shifting as he straightened up and joined her at the bar. “Same as you, I imagine. Looking for answers. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the demon activity picking up.”

Her pulse quickened, though she refused to show it. Griff was good at what he did, and as much as she hated to admit it, he had a way of getting under her skin. And not just in an infuriating way. “And have you found anything?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, stepping closer, his presence taking up more space than she was comfortable with. “But I’ve got a feeling we’re on the same trail.”

She met his gaze, a mixture of frustration and heat simmering beneath the surface. “Then stay out of my way. I don’t need your help.”

Griff’s grin widened, a flash of something dangerous in his eyes. “That’s funny because I think you might.”

Phoenix glared at him, refusing to let the fire in his eyes distract her. “I work alone.”

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke. “Not tonight, you don’t.”

Before she could respond, the sound of breaking glass shattered the tension between them. Phoenix turned just in timeto see a figure in the shadows by the door, darting out into the street.

Without thinking, she bolted after it, Griff hot on her heels.

The night air hit her like a wave as she burst out of the bar, her eyes locking onto the retreating figure. It was fast, but she was faster. She sprinted after it, her feet barely touching the ground as she closed the distance.

“Phoenix!” Griff’s voice was close behind, but she didn’t slow down. The figure ducked into an alley, and Phoenix followed, her senses sharpening as the darkness closed in around her.

She rounded the corner just in time to see the figure disappear through a partially-concealed door at the end of the alley. Phoenix skidded to a halt, her heart pounding in her chest. This wasn’t just any alley. It was one of the old parts of the city, the kind of place where magic was steeped into the very bricks.

Griff caught up to her, breathing heavily as he glanced at the door. “Looks like we found our lead.”

Phoenix nodded, her grip tightening on her knives. “And it’s not going to wait for us.”

With one last glance at Griff, she pushed the door open, stepping into the unknown.

Chapter

Two

GRIFF

Griff couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off tonight. His instincts, honed from years of working the streets of New Orleans, were prickling at the back of his mind, warning him of trouble. The problem was, trouble in this city came in all forms—most of them magical and most of them deadly.

He pushed away from his desk at the precinct, his dragon half stirring restlessly inside him. The heat that always simmered beneath his skin intensified, the familiar pull of shifting tugging at him. He grabbed his leather jacket, throwing it on before heading out into the cool night air. The Crescent City was alive with its usual energy—music drifting from the bars, tourists laughing on the streets, unaware of the dangers that lurked just out of sight. But Griff knew better. The city’s pulse was different tonight, charged with something darker.

As he made his way through the French Quarter and down toward the deserted warehouse district, the feeling of unease grew stronger. The air felt thick, heavy with an energy that wasn’t quite right. The warehouses were long abandoned, their windows shattered, metal doors rusting from disuse. The perfect hiding place for anyone—or anything—looking to avoid the law.

Griff glanced around, checking to make sure no one was watching, then let the shift take over. A kind of swirling fog or mist swirled up around him, surrounding him in a cataclysmic maelstrom that crackled with thunder, lightning, and color. His body stretched and expanded, his skin hardened into scales, and his vision sharpened as his dragon form took hold. He unfolded his wings, and beating them powerfully, Griff launched into the air, soaring over the city; the wind whipping past him as he climbed higher.

From the starry sky above, New Orleans looked peaceful, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights and the distant hum of nightlife. But Griff’s sharp eyes scanned the streets below, searching for any sign of what had triggered his instincts. It didn’t take long to spot something—a flash of movement in a nearby alley, followed by the unmistakable shimmer of magic.

His keen vision zeroed in, and his heart skipped a beat when he recognized the figure in the alley. Phoenix Duvall. The city’s resident faery demon hunter and, much to his annoyance, one of the most stubborn, headstrong women he’d ever met.

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