Page 1 of Stolen Magic
Chapter One
Most stories about redheads were true.
Fiery spirit, temperamental, mouth that couldn’t be controlled, and surely there were plenty more personality traits I didn’t mention, too. I was not an exception by far, although I loved to point out—on a regular basis, too—that I was different than others. What a joke that was. The moment I felt like someone was trying to tell me what I could or couldn’t do, all bets were off. Logic did come into play when I made most decisions, but attitude reared its ugly head much more often. Since I couldn’t do squat about it, I accepted it as part of the norm. Char, my best friend and sorceress extraordinaire, suggested we should just jot it down to genetics and leave it at that.
Pretty sure I never agreed to anything that fast in my life.
I knew the line between confidence and arrogance was very faint, and although I wobbled on it precariously many times, I never crossed it. Yet, as many great stories went, it was bound to happen, so I readied myself for an inevitable nosedive.
No one could blame me for being anything other than prepared.
My breath formed tiny puffs of mist around my face as I tugged on the thick cord that was tied around a wide concrete column on the roof of a skyscraper in the middle of LA. The air-conditioning units were sprinkled all over the flat slab I stood on, reminding me of grumbling lumps there to keep me company at this ungodly hour. A smooth texture like silk glided over my black leather gloves, making it nearly impossible to believe the rope in my hands would hold my weight when I slid fifteen stories down with only it to stop me from falling to my inevitable doom. Normal people used the doors and elevators to gain access to the business offices in the building. Thieves, on the other hand, liked to dangle outside like ornaments in the middle of the night while praying to whoever listened not to let them plummet to their deaths—the exact same thing I was doing as I peered over the edge and watched cars resembling nothing more than glowing dots below as they streaked along the street.
The misting around my face might’ve fooled some that LA had finally decided to give us a break from the hellish heat, but I knew for a fact we weren’t that lucky. It was my magic that had dropped the temperature to minus zero—give or take—but since that ensured I could get the job done and get out in one piece, I wouldn’t complain. Much.
Checking the harness one last time, I stepped on the edge backward, and the heels of my boots stuck over it by an inch. My heartbeat drummed under my bodysuit with the spike of adrenaline until I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. Distant horns and the constant buzz of life in the city mixed with the zapping of the cord unfolding as I stepped into thin air. My stomach lurched from the drop, but I focused on the hiss of the rope clutched loosely in my hands and on my reflection in the glass windows I zoomed past.
If some of the passing humans beneath me happened to look up, my black head-to-toe attire would make me nothing more than a shadow they would dismiss as a trick of the eye. I’d tucked my fire red hair under the elastic material of the hood, and apart from my eyes staring back at me from the reflective glass, for all intents and purposes, I wasn’t even there. If I knew what was good for me, I wouldn’t hang like a pendulum in the first place, but I never backed down from a challenge.
And this was a challenge to be sure.
I jolted when I flipped the break that locked the rope in place and kept me swaying so high above the ground, there would be nothing left of me if I fell. The drop mixed with the moonlight and the bright lights of the city until I was dizzy, so I blinked hard and focused on the window in front of me—the first obstacle separating me from what I came here to take.
“À sealladh.” Magic swirled around me, and I watched as my body shimmered in the reflection of the window until I blended in with my surroundings, disappearing completely. The “out of sight” spell not known by many nowadays was my usual go-to, the ace up my sleeve that had saved my hide more times than I could count.
Arm outstretched, I pressed my palm on the glass, and the chill from the window made my skin tingle through the soft leather of the glove. After a slow breath, I stretched my senses to check the area. I didn’t need any surprises jumping out at me on the other side. Apart from the thrum of magic surrounding the building—something unavoidably noticed from a mile away—there was nothing else. Not a soul stirred on the entire floor.
“Fosgailte.” My order for the glass to open had my palm sinking inside a rippling texture as a soft shimmer covered the entire expanse of the window.
My cheeks hurt from the wide smile under my mask. Swinging my legs forward, I passed through the glass like it wasn’t even there and dropped silently inside a vast, dimly lit room. I stood still, my gaze darting around the space in search of cameras. I almost dropped my invisibility spell when nothing but smooth walls met my eyes, and the backpack I wore slid off my shoulders, stopping with a bounce at my elbows. Forehead puckering, I examined the nearly empty room for any other security. Apart from the waist-high iron safe in the middle of it, only abstract paintings sprinkled the walls on three sides. From earlier in the week, I knew the door I was staring at was not visible on the outside.
“Tick tock, tick tock.” I swung the slim backpack in front of me, tilting my head as I examined my surroundings. “Tick tock said the clock.”
Detaching the rope from my harness, I pushed it through a loop on the backpack and secured it before removing my fingers and allowing it to swing back through the shimmering glass. It swayed on the outside, silent and ready for when I needed it. Facing the room, I pulled the mask down, and turning my hand palm up, I brought it to my lips.
“Nochdadh thu fhèin,” I whispered, asking the room to show itself to me as I blew gently over my upturned wrist.
Magic churned, billowing out and covering the distance between me and the safe in a frosty blue mist. As the mist traveled, ropes of angry red magic revealed themselves, crisscrossing the space in a chaotic pattern. Not impossible to pass, but deadly if I couldn’t see them. Following the magic set to slice anyone to pieces to the walls, I had to be begrugingly impressed. Abstract paintings didn’t adorn the walls. No, they were sigils set as wards. My spell stuck to the red magic, coating it and disarming it at the same time, so in no time at all, I strode forward, twisting and bending around it until I reached the iron box at the far end.
“Tick tock, tick tock.” Crouched in front of it, I ran my hands over the smooth texture, feeling for the door. It appeared like there wasn’t one, but I knew better. After a long moment, I gave up searching and blasted my magic into the iron until, from pure pressure, it popped open with a loud hiss. “Tick tock, and then it broke.”
Snickering under my breath, I swung the newly discovered door open wider and froze with my arm halfway inside the safe. A wave of unease swept through me as my glove-clad fingers hovered above a leather-bound book the size of my hand. The thick tome had no visible identifiers apart from the rune etched on the front cover, which was faded from use or from the harsh hand of time. A metal latch held the yellowed pages together, the edges crinkled and blackened like it had been saved from a fire.
My knees wobbled, and I dropped on the unforgiving floor, still staring at it with my head canted to the side. The job was to break in this room, take the contents of the safe, and deliver it to the client. As always, I never asked too many questions, only giving my fee, half of which was due before I started and half when I delivered the goods. It paid the bills, and that’s all I cared about. But whatever this book was, it made me rethink my choices like never before.
I had just decided to leave it when shuffling footsteps reached me from outside the room. My heart skipped a beat, and the muted sound of two distinctly male voices had my head jerking in the direction of the door.
“Oh, crap.”
Without a second thought, I snatched the small book and slammed the door of the safe shut with my elbow. The doorhandle turned, and I sprinted toward the window. As it cracked open, I no longer cared about the red ropes of magic, bumping my hip and shoulders off the frozen magic in my attempt to get out. A bright light flooded the room when the door swung open, a sheet of golden glare illuminating the space as well as the frozen alarm system that couldn’t protect them from me.
“Hey,” a man shouted as he stepped inside from the hallway, but I was already a few steps short of my escape.
Sprinting on the balls of my feet, my boots made no sound. I was cloaked in my invisibility, and there was no way this person could see me. So as I reached the windows, I spun around to put my back to the glass, and just for the fun of it, I grinned like a fool at him. Words shot from his mouth in a steady stream he aimed at his wrist, and angry curses spit from between his teeth. At the last second, I flung my hand at the safe, forming a beautiful flower—a white Kalla—on top of it. My personal touch.
My signature.
“Catch me if you can.” My raspy words jolt his head up, and his sharp gaze darted around the room, widening when it landed on the flower.
