Eternal Magic (Magic for Hire #3)

Chapter 1

Spring was springing. Or at least there was a faint promise of spring in the air, luring the winter-weary citizens of Linden, New Jersey, out of their homes. Who cared if the wind whipping through the narrow streets was more frigid than refreshing? Or that darkness was already gathering as they headed out of their offices after a long day of work? Or even that it was a random Tuesday in mid-April. Tonight they eagerly celebrated happy hour at the local bars and jammed the sidewalks as they wandered in and out of the various shops.

Including th e Witch’s Brew.

The brightly lit coffee shop with a white tiled floor and lavender walls wasn’t the largest in town, and it wasn’t part of a chain, but it was always packed with customers who crowded into the narrow space and battled to claim one of the small tables set near the large front window. Most were eager to munch on the variety of muffins and scones and brownies, not to mention enjoy the freshly brewed coffee. But there were a few who wandered into the attached bookstore in search of a good novel to enjoy during a quiet evening alone.

The private office at the back of the shop, however, was strictly off limits. The only customers allowed through the door were by appointment. And only for those select few clients who could afford Maya Rosen’s outrageous fees. As one of the most powerful mages in the world, Maya could n ame her price.

And she did.

Plus, she only offered her considerable skills to demons. They were split into two categories. The goblins who had long ago been giants, ogres, and trolls. And the fey creatures who had been fairies, spr ites, and imps.

She never worked for vampires. Ever. And, of course, the local humans didn’t have a clue that she was anything other than a successful businesswoman who was always generous with the neighborhood charities. Just as they didn’t know that they were living on the outskirts of a pool of ancient magic called a Gyre that fueled the demons who infested New York City. Or that the territory was ruled by Valen, a powerful member of the Vampire Cabal.

Ignorance could definitely be bliss, Maya wryly acknowledged as she calmly watched a male demon storm around the barren office like a caged lion, waving his arms as he vented his seething fury. At first glance, the intruder appeared to be a regular guy in a tailored gray suit with his dark hair smoothed from his square face. Maya, however, could see the dark crimson aura that throbbed around his large body. It revealed that he was a goblin, but also that his blood hadn’t been diluted over the centuries.

She could also smell the sour stench of his fear that he was trying to hide beneath hi s loud bluster.

Understandable. She had, after all, created a truth potion that had caused him to blurt out the fact that he’d been routinely overbilling vendors and pocketing the money during a meeting with his manager. Plus he’d shared his nasty habit of forcing himself on his young fem ale employees.

Now he was out of his job as an accountant at the glitzy nightclub in New York City, and soon he’d be facing Valen’s wrath for his sexual harassment. Something n o demon wanted.

“Who was it?” he ground out as he stomped past her desk, his face an interesting sh ade of purple.

Maya pretended to be confused by his questio n. “Excuse me?”

“Who paid the contract to have my coffee spiked with a truth potion?”

Maya shrugged, not surprised he’d managed to figure out she was responsible for the potion in his coffee. But that’s all he’d ever know. There was no way in hell she would reveal that the contract had been negotiated by his last victim. The pretty fairy had sold everything she owned, plus taken a loan from the bank, to ensure that the goblin was exposed and punished f or his crimes.

The payment would be returned to the fairy through some covert means. Maya had too much respect for the female to refuse the stack of cash she’d proudly handed over. Just as she hadn’t told the younger woman that she intended to add a secret layer to the potion. A layer that hadn’t kicked in yet.

A week from now the demon was going to develop a mysterious rash with oozing pus and a disgusting odor. It wouldn’t kill him, but it was going to make him miserable for several days.

“My clients are guaranteed confidentiality,” she informed the seething demon. “Unless they specifically request I sha re their name.”

“I don’t give a flying fu ck about your—”

“Enough,” Maya snapped. She’d allowed the idiot to indulge his rabid temper—which was more than he deserved—but she was done. Beyond done. Opening the top drawer of her desk, she pulled out a small glass vial. “This me eting is over.”

“What do you mean, over?” His face darkened from purple to puce as the male moved to slam his palms on her desk, spittle hanging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll tell you when it’s over, bitch.” The threat was unmistakable, but Maya didn’t flinch. Instead she calmly pulled the stopper out of the top of the vial. The demon stiffened, the fury fogging his brain penetrated by the acrid odor that abruptly stained the air. “What’s that?”

“A very po werful potion.”

The male scowled. “Are you t hreatening me?”

“I’m giving you an opportunity,” Maya corrected i n a soft voice.

“An opportu nity for what?”

“You can walk out of here, and never return. Or I can toss the contents of this vial on you and various parts of your body are going to start shriveling.” She paused, studying the liquid that was beginning to bubble inside the glass container. “Perhaps even fall off,” she conceded with a small shrug. “I haven’t used this recipe before so it’s hard to say how bad things migh t get for you.”

The male stumbled backward, his jaw bulging as he clenched his teeth in frustration. He was a cliché bully who used bluster and intimidation to manipulate others. The fact that he couldn’t terrorize her was pissing him off as much as the knowledge that he’d l ost everything.

“You wouldn’t do it,” he snarled. “Those potion s are illegal.”

They were. And the foaming liquid in the vial was nothing more than a harmless cleansing potion, but he didn’t know that. Maya slowly rose to her feet, stretching out her arm as if preparing to launch a spell.

“So is stealing. And lying. And being a pervert,” she reminded him in overly sweet tones. “S hould I go on?”

The male smacked into the wall with a heavy thud. “I hope you rot in hell, you...you witch,” he rasped, his insult ruined as he hastily turned to wrench open the door and flee like a coward.

With a roll of her eyes, Maya tossed the contents of the vial onto the floor, allowing the potion to spread through the office and purify the air. The demons couldn’t touch their ancient powers when they were outside the magic of the Gyre, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t buy hexes and leav e them behind.

Better safe than sorry. That was her motto.

Then, moving toward the open door, Maya paused to wipe her hands down her yellow cashmere sweater that she’d matched with a pair of ivory slacks. The meeting had gone pretty much as expected, but this was her least favorite part of her mage-for-hire business. Next, she combed her fingers through her shoulder-length black hair that framed her face. There was no gray to be seen in the silken strands, just as there were no lines on her oval face. As a mage, she stopped aging around thirty, but there was no mistaking the hard-earned wisdom in her brig ht green eyes.

The only visible mar to her polished beauty was the silvery spiderweb of scars that ran from her ear along the line of her jaw. The remnants of the magic that had nearly destroyed her.

Once she was confident that her composure was firmly in place, she walked through the empty bookstore and into the coffee shop that was serving the last of the customers. It was after six o’clock and the shop was officially closed, but even on a Tuesday it was closer to seven before the staff could shut off the lights and call it a day.

Well, most of the staff, Maya grimly acknowledged, her gaze locked on the young woman who was tossing aside her apron as she grabbed the purse she’d stowed beneath the front counter. With long strides, Maya was across the white tiled floor to stand directly in front of her n ewest employee.

Courtney Tate had appeared at the coffee shop a week ago, pleading for an opportunity to work with Maya. She wasn’t the first mage to apply for a job at the Witch’s Brew. Not only because Maya had mentored Peri Sanguis, a mage who’d recently ignited the wild magic that had been out of reach for as long as they could remember, along with Skye, a seer whose visions had recently saved the world. But because Maya’s own magic was off the charts.

Maya had been wary. The young woman’s magic was mediocre at best, which meant that Maya’s assistance would be limited. She couldn’t perform miracles. And worse, there’d been a hard arrogance beneath the mage’s pretense of eager longing that had rubbed against Maya’s nerves.

She’d lost Peri and Skye, who were her two best friends over the past year. Okay, she conceded, that was overly dramatic. She hadn’t lost them. But they’d both recently fallen in love with members of the Cabal and they’d moved out of the Witch’s Brew to be with their chosen mates.

Leeches ... A shudder raced through her body. The worst sort of creature as far as she was concerned. Unfortunately, they hadn’t aske d her opinion.

But despite the very large hole that had been blasted into her life with their absence, Maya wasn’t desperate enough to take in the first mage who wandered off the streets. Especially one she di dn’t even like.

Still, there’d been something suspicious about her. Maya couldn’t put her finger on what was off, but she knew without a doubt Courtney had no interest in being mentored. Not by anyone, including Maya. She also knew the only way to discover the reason the young mage had gone to such an effort to get access to the Witch’s Brew was to hire her. Eventually she would re veal the truth.

Now she studied the younger mage with a suspicious gaze. Courtney was several inches shorter than Maya with blond hair that was cut pixie short to frame her round face. Her eyes were blue and so wide they gave her the appearance of being perpetually surprised while her lips were plumped with some sort of artificial filler. She wore figure-hugging dresses and designer heels nearly as h igh as Maya’s.

“You’re leaving?” Maya demanded, glancing toward the last of the customers who were shuffling out of the shop. “You haven’t fini shed cleaning.”

Courtney shrugged. “Yeah well, I gotta bounce.”

“Is so mething wrong?”

“Hard to say. My mom called and said she’s not feeling good. It’s probably nothing, but I gotta check on her.” Courtney widened her too-wide eyes. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Maya felt a surge of annoyance. Did the stupid girl think her innocent act could sway a battle -hardened mage?

“I assume you’ll be back tomorrow?” Maya aske d in dry tones.

“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see.” With a finger wave, Courtney swayed her w ay to the door.

There was a snort of disgust from behind Maya and she turned to discover Joyce Shelton removing the unsold pastries from the front case even as she glared at Courtney, who was out the door and headed d own the street.

“Sketchy,” the older woman muttered.

Maya arched a brow. Joyce had been working part-time at the Witch’s Brew for over a decade, and while she was a human with no idea that she was employed by a magic user, she’d been one of Maya’s most loyal staff members.

“Why do you say that?” Maya demanded.

The older woman wrinkled her nose. She was in her mid-sixties with a square face and frizzy hair she kept dyed a bright red. She wasn’t fat, but she was solid beneath the baggy sweater a nd yoga pants.

“She comes in late and leaves early,” Joyce said, loading the pastries into one of the glass coolers that line d the far wall.

“She’s young,” May a pointed out.

“Young doesn’t mean stupid. She can tell time, can’t she?” Joyce pointed out. “And it’s not like she doesn’t have a clock. Her eyes are glued to that phone of hers like she’s expecting a message from the Almighty.”

Maya studied the woman’s stiff back with blatant curiosity. Joyce was gruff, but she never complained about the girls Maya took under her wing. In fact, she’d doted on Peri and Skye as if they were her own daughters.

“ Anything else?”

Joyce shut the cooler with a snap and turned back to face Maya. “While you were in your meeting I caught her coming out of the basement.”

Maya stilled, her gaze moving toward the steel door behind the counter. “You’re sure?”

Joyce clicked her tongue. “Of course I’m sure. I’m old but I’m not blind. I saw her sneaking up the stairs wit h my own eyes.”

“How did she get p ast the lock?”

“Don’t know.” Joyce grabbed a mop from the utility closet. Maya would cast a cleansing spell later, but she requested her human staff to follow a typical closing routine. Otherwise they would wonder how the place was always spotless. “I told her it was off limits to everyone, including the staff, on the first day she came to work.”

So had Maya, but she wasn’t surprised that Courtney had sneaked down to the cellar. As a mage, the younger woman would know that the steel door was installed as a secondary layer of protection in case the vault where Maya kept the most dangerous potions and spell books was breached. It could have been natural curiosity that led her down there, or something more sinister. Maya had several rare and valuable items stored in the vault. But what did surprise her was the fact that the girl had managed to break through the warding spell she’d placed on the door. Maybe she had more power than Maya had origin ally suspected.

“Did she say anything when you caught her?” Maya abruptly asked.

Joyce shrugged. “She claimed she’d gone down there to look for extra napkins, as if there weren’t plenty unde r the counter.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should have a word with her.”

“Good luck with that. Doubt she bothers to show up again.”

“You’re right.” Maya felt a stab of urgency slice through her. “I need to speak to her. Ca n you lock up?”

“Yes, but—”

“Thanks.”

With brisk steps, Maya returned to her office to grab a leather satchel filled with several vials of potions along with cash and a variety of ID cards. She paused to scoop her phone off her desk before she was heading back into the coffee shop. She was halfway to the front door when she felt Joyce reach out to touch her arm.

“Be careful.”

Maya blinked at the edge in the older woman’s voice, as if she was genuinely concerned for Maya’s sa fety. Strange.

“Always, ” she murmured.

Continuing her path out the door, Maya touched the emerald pendant she wore on a gold chain. It was more habit than a necessity. She didn’t need the extra magic she’d stored in the priceless gem to track her young employee. Or even to blend in with the pedestrians who clogged the sidewalks.

She did slow her pace once she’d left the brightly lit business area of town and followed the trail that led her across a large parking lot and up the steps to the commuter train. Once on the platform, she paused to scan the waiting crowd. Courtney was easy to spot. She was standing near the edge, impatiently glaring toward the approaching train as if it was running late.

Maya edged her way around the gathered passengers, prepared as the train stopped and the doors slid open. There was the usual push of people trying to exit while others were wiggling their way into the carriages, but Maya waited to make sure Courtney was settled in a seat before scurrying onto the train just seconds before the d oors slid shut.

The younger woman appeared impervious to the fact that she was being followed as she pulled out her phone and scrolled with a bored expression. Or maybe she was trying to blend in with the horde of passengers who were equally engrossed as they stared mindlessly at their screens.

Maya remained standing in a shadowed corner, shuddering as they moved from the outskirts into the full power of the Gyre. As a mage she didn’t need the ancient magic to create spells or potions, but it intensified her power until it pounded through her with an a ddictive force.

This was the reason most mages were willing to bend the knee to the Vampire Cabal. They considered it a fair trade-off to pledge loyalty to the leeches so they could create magic i nside the Gyre.

Not Maya.

Avoiding the mass exodus as they came to a halt at Penn Station, Maya waited until the carriage was empty. She wasn’t going to risk exposing her presence. Mages weren’t as rare as vampires, but there wasn’t an abundance of them either. It was simple enough to follow the trail of magic Courtney le ft in her wake.

Heading up the escalators and onto the streets of Manhattan, Maya turned south, away from the bustle of Times Square. Within a couple of blocks she once again had the younger w oman in sight.

Courtney was walking at a rapid pace, not slowing until she entered the Meatpacking District. Even then she hurried past the redbrick buildings that had been refurbished into trendy apartments and rooftop taverns as if she was on a mission. It wasn’t until she reached a shabby building near the river that she paused, glancing side to side before she pushed open a wooden door to disappear inside what appeared to be an abandoned s laughterhouse.

Maya waited a full five minutes before she hesitantly moved to stand in front of the squat building with boarded windows and a rusted tin roof. Holding out her hand, she felt a familiar warmth tingle against her palm. Maya arched her brows. There was a protective barrier wrapped around the building, but it wasn’t an active spell or incantation created by a mage. A demon had woven this strand by strand, using the power of the Gyre. Just like a spider weaving a web.

Interesting.

Valen was more tolerant than most members of the Cabal when it came to demons running their own businesses in his territory, so why would they go to such an effort?

The obvious answer was that the owner was hiding something worth the bother and expense of such an ela borate barrier.

Debating the wisdom of entering the building without backup, Maya muttered the words of a defensive spell. She no longer had Peri and Skye to call on when she needed assistance. Time to adjust to the fact that she w as on her own.

The ancient words seared her tongue, the bitter taste a deliberate warning to be careful. As if the scars on her face weren’t enough to remind her of the dangers of using magic as a weapon, she wryly acknowledged. At the same time, the sweet, intoxicating power swirled through her veins, enhanced by the hum of the Gyre beneath her feet. The turbulent magic added a seductive edge to the anticipation that sizzled through her, threatening to demolish her usual caution.

Grimly squaring her shoulders, Maya forced herself to step through the magic. The spell was locked and loaded. There was no reason to wait.

A prickle of heat crawled over her as she moved forward. It wasn’t the delicate power of a fairy. It was raw and intimidating. Goblin. With a grimace, she pushed open the door and cautiously headed down the steep staircase that led her beneath the empty slaughterhouse. The steps ended at another heavy door, but this one was lit with blinking neon lights th at spelled out:

SLAU GHTERHOUSE CLUB

Enter a t your own risk

Maya rolled her eyes. Goblins were powerful, cunning, and ruthless, but they had the creativi ty of a turnip.

Pushing open the basement door, Maya winced at the avalanche of noise that assaulted her. Not only the heavy thump of music that spilled from the overhead speakers, but also the harsh cries of bloodlust from the crowd gathered at the far side of the long room.

Maya paused, allowing her vision to adjust to the thick gloom that surrounded her. She wanted to follow Courtney, not stumble over her because she couldn’t see. Or worse, stumble over one of the numerous demons who would love to rip out her he art and eat it.

At the same time, she studied the brightly lit corner where the crowd was gathered. They circled something that looked like an elevated square. A stage? No, it was a boxing ring surrounded by a tall, chain-link fence. The flashing lights caught the outline of a large male goblin with a deep red aura who was holding a slender fairy over his head. She watched as he turned in a slow circle, obviously prodding the crowd into a frenzy of excitement before he launched his opponent through the air to hit the fence with enough force to bend the metal post.

An undergro und fight club.

The crowd roared and Maya turned away with a disgusted sha ke of her head.

At least she understood the need for the layers of protection. Valen had strict rules about this type of club. And the first rule was that no one could run one that wasn’t personally under hi s supervision.

It wasn’t that he worried about the fighters being injured. He was a leech, not a saint. But these types of places tended to attract a violent crowd who lost all common sense when they were in the throes of their bloodlust. It was all too common for brawls to erupt in the club and then spill onto the streets where innocent humans could be inj ured or killed.

That was never goo d for business.

Using the distraction of the crowd, Maya edged through the thick shadows, absently absorbing the waves of demon energy that pulsed through the room. She could store it in her emerald pendant to amp up her magic. Another benefit of bei ng in the Gyre.

But again, not worth having to bend the kne e to a vampire.

Reaching an opening at the side of the room, Maya glanced around before she peered into the narrow hallway lined with closed doors. Ah. So that was it. Now she understood why Courtney had deliberately gone into the off-limits basement at the Witch’s Brew when she was bound to be spotted. And why she’d waited for Maya to conclude her business with the demon before she’d taken off from work.

Th is was a trap.

Honestly, Maya couldn’t help but be offended. Did Courtney think she was that stupid? Or was she just lazy?

She was going with the lazy theory. Her ego couldn’t accept that she’d reached an age when the younger generation assumed she was so old and feeble she could be this easily fooled.

Following the tingle of magic to the end of the corridor, Maya pushed open the wooden door and stepped into the small, square room. She didn’t have to search for hidden dangers. The floor was cement. The walls were cement. There was a single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling and zero furniture. The only thing to see was the young mage watching her with a s mug expression.

“Hello, Maya.”

Magic lashed out, wrapping around Maya as if she was a mummy being entombed. She didn’t fight the spell. Her own magic was primed and ready to shred through the invisible bonds. For now she wanted Courtney to believe she was in control of the situation. It was the only way she was going to discover why the younger mage had lured her to this location.

“Courtney.” Her voice was calm as she inspected her captor with more curios ity than fear.

Courtney’s pleasure dimmed, her eyes narrowin g. “Surprised?”

“Not really. Why have yo u attacked me?”

“Hardly an attack.” The mage clicked her tongue. “It’s no more than a binding spell.”

“Answer me.”

“Answer you?” Courtney stepped forward, her heels clicking on the cement floor. “Are you seriously giv ing me orders?”

“I asked a si mple question.”

The younger woman snorted. “After enduring a week of being treated like I’m your slave, I can happily tell you to fuck off,” she hissed. “You’re not the boss of me.” She snapped her fingers in Maya’s face. “I quit.”

Maya arched a brow. The girl didn’t qualify as an employee, let alone a slave. “If you didn’t want to work at the Witch’s Brew, why did you appl y for the job?”

“Because I n eed the money.”

“There are lots of jobs available. Most of them pay more tha n I can offer.”

Courtney released a sharp laugh. “Do you really think I’m the sort of woman who works for minimum wage?” She deliberately glanced down at her designer outfit and manicured nails. “When I say I need the money, I’m not looking for a lousy paycheck. I want the sort of payout that can keep me in luxury for the next year.”

Maya wasn’t offended by the snarky words. In fact, it was reassuring to know her instincts about this mage had n’t been wrong.

“And how do you intend to get your ge nerous payout?”

The woman lifted her hand and gestured toward the door. A second later it slammed shut, muting the music and roar from the distant crowd. Maya breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she was getting old. Her ears were ringing from the noise.

“Obviously by capturing the infamous Maya Rosen,” Courtne y informed her.

“Infamous?” Maya kept her expression mildly curious, even as she inwardly dismissed the various fears that had run through her mind when she’d been following Courtney. In the past year Peri had battled an ancient evil magic. And then Skye had been swept into a plot that would have bathed the world in fire. It was almost boring to discover this was nothing more than a mundane desire for revenge. “Should I be flattere d or insulted?”

“Be whatever you want. I don’t give a shit,” the younger woman snapped. Clearly, Maya wasn’t as terrified as she’d hoped. “I just want my money.”

“Who ’s paying you?”

Courtney rolled her eyes. “What a stupid question. In my business we don’t exchange personal information. I do my job an d I get paid.”

“ Your business?”

“Assassin.”

“Ah.” Maya rolled her eyes. There might be a handful of demons and mage assassins who had the skills to kidnap or kill her, but they weren’t stupid enough to try. On the other hand, there were a whole plethora of assassins who plied their trade without an ounce of talent. Most of them bumbled from one job to another, hoping to get paid before they could be exposed as incompetent amateurs. “I hope you offer coupons.”

Courtney blinke d. “Excuse me?”

“Just a little warning, my dear, from one mage to another,” Maya said with a smile. “If you’re as bad at being an assassin as you are at being a barista, then your client is going to wa nt a discount.”

Courtney flushed, the bonds around Maya tightening as the woman struggled to maintain her temper. Clumsy. Emotions were the enemy of any mage. Especially when they were active ly using magic.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Courtney taunted. “Exactly where I wan ted you to be.”

“If you say so.” Maya deliberately paus ed. “Now what?”

“I send word to my contact and he comes t o pick you up.”

Good. There was no point in going through this charade if she wasn’t going to discover the person responsible for hi ring Courtney.

“How? ” she demanded.

Courtney flashed an impatient frown. “I don’t know. And I don’t care.”

“How do you contact him?” Maya clarified.

“Oh.” The mage reached into her purse to pull out her phone. “Th rough the app.”

For the first time since entering the trap, Maya was genuinely surprised. “There’s an app for assassins?”

“There’s an app for everything, you stupid hag. Not everyone is stuck in the past.” Courtney dropped the phone back into her purse. “Some of us are smart enough to change w ith the times.”

Maya grimaced. The words didn’t hurt. Not exactly. But there was enough truth in the insult to rub across a raw nerve. There were times when she did wonder if she was becoming obsolete. Not because it was increasingly difficult to keep up with technology, but she couldn’t deny there were occasions when she considered selling the Witch’s Brew and moving to a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere with a dog and stacks of books to keep her company. A little peace and quiet sound ed like heaven.

A worry for later, she sharply reminded herself. There wouldn’t be any cottages in her future if she didn’t get out of this basement alive.

“So you have no idea who hired you?”

“I get a job, I do it, I get paid. Simple.” Courtney pursed her lips, her gaze flicking over Maya with blatant dislike. “Of course, on this job I have the added bonus of never having to hear the name May a Rosen again.”

Maya was baffled by the angry sincerity in the younger woman’s voice. Okay, she could be cold and demanding and sometimes impatient, but she wasn’t a mo nster. Was she?

“Is there a particular reason y ou dislike me?”

“I don’t dislike you.” Courtney leaned forward, only to flinch as she encountered Maya’s protective spell. Unlike other mages, Maya’s magic didn’t spark and flicker around her. It blasted out with the force of an industrial furnace. Even humans who had no idea mages existed avoided standing too close to Maya. The younger woman sniffed, pretending she wasn’t unnerved by the thunderous power. “I loathe you.”

Loathe? Well, that seemed unnecessa rily dramatic.

“Why?” Maya asked. “You know not hing about me.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m a lways serious.”

Courtney made a gagging sound. “Every young mage in the world is sick of listening to stories of how you battled against a vampire and forced the Cabal to bend to your will. The older generation whisper your name in tones of awe, and your enemies tremble in fear. It’s even worse now that your precious protégée, Peri Sanguis, has tapped into the wild magic. A magic that’s out of reach for the rest of us.” Her voice was thick with envy as her gaze moved to the scar on the side of Maya’s face. “There are some of us who realize that you’re not some sort of hero just because you survived. And that it doesn’t give you the right to be a bully.”

Maya kept her features smooth even as the accusations pierced her heart. She never revealed the torment she’d endured from her former master or how she managed to escape. Which no doubt explained the endless rumors that had swirled around her for decades. If the gossips couldn’t get the real story, they would jus t make one up.

More importantly, she never ever discussed why she refused to bend the knee to the Cabal. That was a secret she would take to her gra ve. And beyond.

“I’ve never claimed to be a hero,” she informed the younger woman. “And I’m certa inly no bully.”

“No, you just suck up all the jobs that offer a hefty payout and leave the rest of us to squabble ov er the crumbs.”

Maya silently released the breath stuck in her lungs. Okay. She could deal with petty jealousy. The pas t? Not so much.

“You forget, I’ve seen your work,” she reminded Courtney with a mocking smile. “Maybe if you were actually willing to put in an effort and learn some skills, you wouldn’t be squabbli ng for crumbs.”

“You—” Courtney raised her hand, as if she was going to strike. Then, watching Maya’s smile widen in anticipation, she wisely backed away. “No. You’re not worth the effort,” she muttered, angling until she was close enough to pull open the door. She paused to blow Maya a kiss. “I hope whoever paid to have you captured intends to kill you. Very , very slowly.”

Courtney exited the room, slamming shut the door with a dramatic flick of her wrist. Maya shook her head as she listened to the heels clicking against the cement slowly fade int o the distance.

“Drama queen,” she muttered, easily busting through the magical bonds that held her.

Once free, she did a mental sweep of her body, making sure Courtney hadn’t left behind a nasty curse or a hex that would trigger as soon as Maya lowered her defensive shields. It was something Maya did on a regular basis. If her head-on attack failed, she had a ba ckup in place.

Not surprisingly, Courtney hadn’t bothered with the add itional layer.

A hack, Maya thought as she moved to press her back against the wall next to the open door. Whoever had trained the younger woman was an embarrassment to mages ar ound the world.

Keeping her shields in place, Maya began to weave a delicate web of magic over the door. It was designed to allow anyone into the room, including her mystery enemy, but they wouldn’t be able to escape. She intended to get her questions answered one w ay or another.

She was still in the process of weaving her spell when a frigid gust of air swirled thr ough the room.

A shiver raced through her as she instantly recogni zed her danger.

Vampire.

With the skill that came from decades of practice, Maya grimly re-formed the spell she’d been weaving, thickening the strands of magic to slam against the blur of darkness that darted into the room. It wouldn’t hurt a leech, but it would hopefully catch him off guard. She needed time to dig through the potions she kept stocked i n her satchel.

Unfortunately, she only had one laced with enough silver to cause actual pain. It hadn’t occurred to her that she might stumble across a leech when she’d followed Courtney into the city. Valen had a low tolerance for allowing his brothers into his territory. Especially after the Cabal had descended on New York City a few months back to determine if Valen’s mate—and Maya’s best friend—was a danger t o the vampires.

Watching the waves of magic smack against the shadowed form, Maya’s eyes widened as the powerful spell fizzled and sputtered, as if being absorbed by the darkness.

Genuine fear pierced her heart as Maya shoved her hand into her purse to grab a vial. Right now it didn’t matter what was in the potion. She needed a distraction to get the he ll out of here.

Her fingers wrapped around the glass tube, but before she could pull it out, the shadow had moved with blinding speed to stand directly in front of her.

“Easy, Maya,” a male voice murmured.

A voice that she easily recognized despite the years since she’d last heard it.

Shock slammed into her, the ground feeling as if it was buckling beneath her feet. Or maybe it was her knees that were buckling. Whatever the case, Maya would have collapsed if strong hands hadn’t reached out to grasp her arms, keepi ng her upright.

At the same time, the shadows dissipated, revealing a tall, heavily muscled male with silver-blond hair shaven close to his scalp and chiseled features. His skin was smooth with a hint of gold and his eyes were the precise shade of turquoise rimm ed with silver.

He wasn’t handsome. That was too small a word. He was...brutally, ruthlessly gorgeous with the sort of raw animal magnetism that made her entire body sizzle with awareness. This male didn’t seek attention, h e demanded it.

Ravyr.

Emotions erupted through her, so intense they were impossible to contain. Astonishment, bewilderment, and a strange sense of giddy relief. As if the sight of him healed a wound she didn’t even know she carri ed deep inside.

The last emotion to bubbl e out was fury.

The sort of high-octane fury that shattered her hard-earned composure and demanded a physical release. Lifting her hands, she pounded them aga inst his chest.

“No. It can’t be,” she hissed. “You’re dead.”