Magic Heist Read online

  Ian rubbed the back of his neck. This was bad. Now there would be questions and explanations, because no amount of backpedaling would convince the chief that he hadn’t seen a fairy.

  The chief tried to enter the shop but was stopped by the same ward that had kept Ian from leaving. He swiveled his head to Ian, and his mouth fell open and then closed.

  Layla shot to hide behind the counter.

  Ian’s gut pinched, and he hoped he could convince the chief to leave the magical aspect of the investigation out of his report. “Come out, Layla. And drop the ward so the chief can join us.”

  She flew above the counter and gestured toward the door. “It’s clear. He can come in.”

  The chief held his hands in front of him as if he was afraid that he might smack into an invisible wall. “You want to explain to me what I’m seeing here?”

  “This is Layla. Layla, this is my boss Assistant Chief Constable McIntyre.”

  “I’m a fairy.” Her words sounded like a declaration.

  The chief squinted. “Aye. I think that’s obvious.”

  Layla flew to the other side of the counter and human-sized.

  The chief stood his ground next to Ian, but the color drained from his face.

  “It’s a bit of a shock, I know.” Ian moved in front of the doorway to keep other officers from stumbling upon them. “Connor Davis wasn’t dealing in drugs. He was dealing in magic.”

  “Magic? As in…” The chief’s gaze slid to Layla. “Fairies?”

  Ian nodded. “Davis kidnapped fairies and sold their magic.”

  Layla turned her back to the chief and looked up at Ian. “About the fairies…”

  McIntyre went full assistant chief constable mode and ignored the fairy in the room. “Where is Davis now?”

  “Dead,” Layla answered. “Ian?”

  The chief looked at Ian as if he was the one talking. “Dead? Where is his body?”

  “Turned to dust.” She threw the words casually over her shoulder and turned back to Ian. “It’s the fairies.”

  “Turned to dust?” The chief looked at Layla.

  “It was the only way I could stop him.”

  The chief’s eyes widened, and his face reddened. “You turned Connor Davis to dust.”

  In an attempt to deescalate the conversation before it got more confrontational, Ian half-wedged himself between the chief and Layla. “Believe me, she saved all of our lives.”

  “Connor Davis wasn’t a human. He was a dragon called Fauth.” Her scalding tone matched the fire in the look she flashed the chief just before she popped her wings open wide. “He murdered hundreds of fairies including my parents.” She drew in a quick breath and turned to Ian. “The fairies…”

  “A dragon?” The chief eased away from her. “Are there … other … dragons?”

  Ian felt fear radiate from the chief. He saw it in his eyes, in the way the white was visible all the way around.

  Would he fear Ian if he found out? Technically, Ian wasn’t a dragon. But even as a shifter, it was only a matter a time before the dragon showed itself.

  The dragon scales on Ian’s right arm barely peeked from the cuff of his jacket, but he turned with his arm away from the chief anyway. “No.”

  The chief scanned the room again. “Okay. We have fairies and a dragon who is now a pile of dust. What about witnesses?”

  “Not that we know of,” Ian said. “It was dark, and the street was quiet. Theo is working on CCTV now.”

  “That you know of? This is a nightmare. Literally. If there are witnesses...” McIntyre rubbed a hand across his mouth. “Aye. Okay. For now, this is a result of gang violence, and your team will remain on the case.”

  Layla grabbed Ian’s arm, and he winced as the dragon-spirit clawed to come forward.

  Layla held on and looked into his face. “You need to listen to me. The fairies need help.”

  The chief asked, “What about the fairies?”

  Layla kept her eyes on Ian. “It’s the city. It’s the cellar. It’s dark. It’s cold. There’s too much metal. They’re starting to feel ill. We need to get them out of the city.”

  Ian knew his job was to explain the whole story to the chief, but right then Layla, the fairies, and keeping the dragon-spirit quiet were more important. “There are more than one-hundred fairies in sanctuary beneath a kirk in Old Town.”

  McIntyre looked around the shop again. “Fine. Then get me Theo.”

  “I’m right here, sir.” Theo stood just outside the doorway. His eyes widened when he saw Layla standing next to the chief—wings and all.

  Ian shrugged. “He knows most of it.”

  “Right.” Theo stepped over the rubble into the shop. “I didn’t touch the CCTV feed. Only humans showed up. No dragons. No fairies. And no Connor Davis.”

  “What did you see?” Ian wasn’t sure if this was good news or bad.

  “Sparks mostly. It looked like Jack, Buzzard, and I were zapped with some sort of electrical charge.”

  McIntyre rubbed his hand across his mouth again. “And what exactly happened?”

  “Fauth hit us with magic.” Theo cringed as he spoke as if he were afraid the chief wouldn’t believe him.

  McIntyre let out a long breath. “I’m going to check out those recordings. You and your team get some rest. I want everybody in my office first thing Monday morning.”

  Layla’s wings fluttered. “Ian—the fairies.”

  McIntyre gave Ian a curt nod. “Go.”

  Layla disguised her wings by folding the tips over her shoulders as if she were wearing a wrap and led the agents out of the shop and away from the police.

  Buzzard fell in step with Ian, Jack, Theo, and Layla as they entered the close leading to the high street. “McIntyre saw Layla?”

  Ian nodded. “He took it better than I thought. Better than he should have.”

  Jack stepped aside to allow a group of tourists to pass him. “Maybe it’s not the first encounter he’s had with magical creatures. He was around fifteen years ago before the portals were sealed.”

  Buzzard shook his head. “Ach. So was I, but I never saw magical creatures.”

  Ian looked at his second-in-command. “With all that you’ve seen over the past seventy-two hours, you still sound skeptical.”

  “I can’t deny what’s clearly in front of me, but I don’t have to embrace that magic exists.” He flashed Layla a sheepish look. “No offense.”

  Layla didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything—just pressed her mouth in a tight line. And that’s when Ian knew without a doubt that Layla was seriously worried about the fairies. She would never miss a chance for a verbal spar with Buzzard.

  When they neared the kirk, the dragon became restless again. Ian’s scaled arm brightened, and his hand began to contract. He raised his eyes to Layla and ground out an apology.

  She stopped and rubbed her arm. “Fight it, Ian. Don’t let it have control.”

  He went through the mental exercise of fighting the dragon as if he were St. George until it released its hold on his arm.

  Layla opened the kirkyard gate. “Get inside. He can’t hurt you there.”

  As Ian entered the grounds, Father Wilson appeared on the steps of the church. Deep lines sliced through the soft roundness of his cheeks and his eyes seemed unusually heavy, especially for a spirit.

  And an uneasy feeling that something bad was on the way crawled through Ian. He could sense it or maybe the dragon side of him could sense it. And whatever it was, it frightened Ian more than facing ten Fauths.

  Chapter Two

  Layla’s stomach was a gnarled mess as she led the group down the steep, winding steps to the cellar beneath the church. She wasn’t sure which worried her more—Ian’s struggle for control over the dragon or the fairies struggle over the hazards of the human world. The holy ground around the church would keep Ian from shifting, but even holy ground couldn’t protect the fairies from iron sickness.

  When she reached th
e alcove outside the cellar, the light hanging from the ceiling flickered, casting sinister shadows on the grey walls. Her stomach double-knotted.

  Music no longer filtered from the room, and the lively chatter of the fairies had turned to quiet, hushed conversations.

  “How bad can they be? They were fine an hour ago.” Ian’s tone matched the waves of anxiety rippling down Layla’s spine.

  “I know.” Layla nodded and led the lads into the room. She scanned the pallid faces of the fairies, and her throat tightened. “They can’t stay here.”

  Esme fluttered to her, but with every pump of her filigree-patterned wings, she seemed to grow paler. “What is happening to us?” She spoke barely above a whisper, and her tone was airy as if all she could do was breathe the words.

  Layla’s chest tightened, and tears stung her eyes. “Esme, please rest.”

  Her sister landed on the cold cobblestone floor and dropped to her knees.

  Theo entered the room and crouched near a group of fey. “But haven’t fairies always been sensitive to iron? Why is it so bad now?”

  Layla fairy-sized and sat next to her sister. “Their magic gave them some resistance.” She looked up at the men standing along the back wall. Ian, Buzzard, and Jack stood with their legs apart and their arms folded across their chests. They reminded her of the warrior elves of her world—too bad they didn’t also possess the elves’ magical healing power. “Now, with their magic gone, the fairies have no protection.”

  Ian stepped away from the wall. “How can we help them?”

  “Fairies are grounded to the earth. They need fresh air. They need to feel the soil beneath their feet.” Layla hooked her arm through Esme’s and held her hand. “If we don’t get them out of this cellar, it won’t be long before they are as weak as when we freed them from Fauth’s torture.” “But they’re protected on holy ground.” Ian’s gaze slid to the walking stick propped in the corner of the room.

  It looked harmless enough now. It had a polished black shaft with a glass globe fixed on the end, and inside the globe was a red dragon.

  But it wasn’t harmless. It had been Fauth’s weapon, and he’d wielded it unmercifully. Around the dragon inside the globe was magic. Powerful magic. Magic that had been ripped from the souls of fairies, elves, centaurs, trolls, and any other magical creature Fauth had had a mind to torture.

  And Ian ogled it with hunger in his eyes.

  “The fairies are protected from evil, not from iron sickness. I’m afraid if we don’t move them soon…” Layla’s voice hitched, “they won’t recover.”

  “Aye.” Ian nodded like he was listening, but his focus remained on the dragon in the globe.

  Layla outstretched her hand and called the stick to her. Ian’s eyes tracked the stick all the way to her palm.

  An old fairy with a scraggly beard pointed a gnarled finger at the walking stick. “Could you spare a wee bit of magic in that stick for us? Just enough to keep us safe?”

  Her heart ached, and a tear dropped onto her cheek. “I’m sorry. I can’t. There’s no way to separate the bad magic from the good. It might help you, but it might also kill you. I’ll no risk it, but I promise, we will get you away from the city as soon as possible.”

  Theo cleared his throat and pushed his ginger hair away from his face. “If they need fresh air and to feel the earth, Salisbury Crags is not far.”

  Ian pulled his gaze away from the stick to Theo. “Aye. But it’s covered with tourists either hiking to the crag or Arthur’s Seat.” The globe seemed to call Ian’s attention back to it. “Can you do one of those glamour things and hide them?” His tone was distracted, and Layla wasn’t sure he was aware of the question he’d asked.

  “A glamour is like covering them with camouflage,” she said. “I’m afraid with this many fairies, the shimmer of the glamour will cause humans to look closer. And if they do, they’ll see right through it. It’s not the best option. Will there be tourists at this Salisbury Crags after nightfall?”

  Ian opened his mouth, and his lips seemed to try to form words, but no sound came out.

  “Very few, if any. But nighttime is a long way away.” Theo answered her question, but like the rest of the room, his gaze was on his boss. “Ian?”

  The dragon inside the globe glowed red. Layla sucked in a breath and took a step away from Ian and closer to the fairies. Her heart pounded, and her mind raced to comprehend what was happening. She moved the stick behind her back. “Ian?”

  “Aye.” He blinked a couple of times. “As I said, I’m more concerned about getting the fairies from the kirk to the car.”

  “You didn’t say.” Theo moved between Ian and Layla.

  Ian’s face reddened. “What are you going on about? Of course, I did. Are you in charge of this?” His words were angry and irrational.

  Layla popped her wings wide. “No. You didn’t. I don’t know what just happened, but either that stick affected the dragon or the dragon-spirit inside you affected the stick. Neither of those things should have been possible while on holy ground. I’m sorry, Ian. I think you should leave the cellar. I’ll meet you in the church.”

  Ian’s face was so tense and angry, the muscles in his jaw bulged. His lips were pressed into a thin white line slashing across his mouth. But he didn’t argue. He did an about-face and pushed between Jack and Buzzard as he left the cellar.

  Theo talked to the fairies as if the past few minutes hadn’t happened. “I have an idea. We don’t want to expose you to the tourists, but I think we can still get you away from the city before nightfall. It would mean hiding you, and it’s not very polite, but we could hide you in boxes.” He looked up at Layla. “We could carry them to the van and drive them away from the city.”

  Layla’s mind was too busy worrying about Ian to search for a better solution. “It’s a grand idea.” She turned toward the doorway and handed the walking stick to Buzzard. “Keep this safe and away from Ian. I’ll meet you at the van.”

  Buzzard nodded. “I don’t know what’s happening to Ian, but you be careful.”

  “Aye. I will.” She stopped in the corner of the alcove where she’d left her sword and dagger. She shoved the sgian dubh in the pocket at the top of her boot and fastened the belt holding her sword around her hips. Next, she settled her quiver of arrows between her wings and flipped her bow over her shoulder and beneath her right wing.

  “You’re taking your weapons?” Buzzard stood in the arched entry of the cellar.

  “Just as a precaution.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No. Work on getting the fairies to the van. If I need you, I’ll come after you. I promise.”

  “At least hide your wings and weapons.”

  “There no time.” She ran up the steps and through the secret passage to the church. She’d expected to find Ian staring at the St. George painting, but he wasn’t.

  Anxiety coiled in her gut as she scanned the pews. There were a few tourists milling about, but no Ian.

  Her heart jammed in her throat. She tried to swallow it down, but it was stuck along with the gravel that seemed to have been dumped there. She pressed her hand against her stomach as she made her way through the church to the kirkyard.

  Her hand hadn’t settled the tension twisting in her gut. And when she saw Ian standing by the kirkyard gate, all of those feelings intensified by ten. Her pulse raced around her body so fast she trembled from fingers to toes and everywhere in between. She ran toward Ian but felt like she was moving through waist deep water.

  He reached for the gate.

  She screamed. “Ian. Wait!”

  With one hand on the gate latch, he turned to her. “Stay away from me, Layla.”

  She stopped a few meters from him. Her legs were so shaky it was a wonder she could stand. “You can win this fight.”

  “The magic in the stick connected with the dragon-spirit. It’s not safe around me.”

  “Aye. Okay. Buzzard has it now.”

&
nbsp; “But there’s something…” His face contorted, and for an instant, she thought he might shift.

  Layla stepped closer. “Don’t walk through that gate until you’re sure you are in control.”

  He looked at her with pain, sorrow, and fear in his eyes. “I don’t have a choice.” He opened the gate. “It’s coming.”

  “What’s coming? What are you talking about?”

  He looked back at her with wild eyes. “You’re safe here. I have to stop it. I have to get to the crag.”

  He turned and ran through the gate toward the close to the high street.

  Layla tore back to the church. As soon as she was through the secret door, she screamed. “Buzzard! I need your help.”

  He met her halfway up the steps. “Where’s Ian?”

  “He said he was going to try to stop it. He said that he had to get to the crag.”

  Jack and Theo stood below Buzzard. He turned to them. “Get the fairies in the van. Meet us at Salisbury Crag.”

  Layla and Buzzard hurried to the car park. Layla started toward the close Ian had slipped into, but Buzzard pulled her the opposite direction. “Cowgate is faster. Fewer tourists.”

  He was right. They didn’t pass a single person as they ran down the hill toward Holyrood Castle. But that didn’t ease the fear coursing through Layla.

  When they reached the bottom of the hill, Buzzard led her across a road to a path winding up the crag. “There’s no telling where he is on this path. We’d better split up. I’ll go right, you go left. The trail is a loop—we’ll come together at the top.”

  Layla nodded and jogged up the trail. She thought about fairy-shifting. But the wind had picked up, making it unsafe to fly. Instead, she ignored the tourists’ stares and used her wings to help propel her up the path.

  “Layla, go back.”

  She had been sure Ian was ahead of them, but his voice came from behind. She stopped and turned. Ian ran to her. “Go back. It’s not safe.”