The lab was tucked away in the corner on level B5. There was a little jump in the cameras, that no one else noticed, to hide what had happened. The labbie stood outside, his round cheeks flushed red with anger.
“This is ridiculous. All my shit was either stolen or trashed. I have to start all over,” he complained to Lombardi the moment he spotted him. Security stood around to guard the scene and a couple of them scowled at the labbie.
The labbie was a shorter guy, reaching my shoulders, with frizzy brown hair and pale silver eyes. He was more like a hermit, never coming out of his lab unless he was going home. I’d only seen him a handful of times.
“I’m aware of the problem, Mr. Gheraldi,” Lombardi said, not even blinking an eye at the determined guy’s advance. “We came up with a solution. We’ll need to borrow your lab.”
Gheraldi’s eyes narrowed on me, as if understanding that I would be in the middle of whatever we were going to do in his sacred place.
“And what is that?” he asked, eyes turning into slits.
“I’m going to recreate the scene,” I spoke up. “I know a spell that will allow us to see what happened. Since this is something that happened recently, we should have a clear picture.”
“Impossible,” Gheraldi said.
I smirked. “For you, maybe.”
“Enough,” Lombardi said, his impatience coming out. “You don’t need to whip out your magic dicks to compare sizes. We know you’re talented in your own rights. Now let’s get this over with.”
By the end, Lombardi was practically growling.
Gheraldi glared at me but hit the button so the door slid open. He stepped inside first and went off to the side to let us through. Two guards entered too, but stayed back. The lab was still trashed, everything strewn all over. The moment Gheraldi knew his lab had been broken into, he reported it and sealed the room so we would have a fresh scene to look at.
I closed my eyes and opened up a little, taking in the thick magic around me. This was a trick I’d learned a couple of years before. People always thought a witness needed to be a being or even an animal, but they didn’t realize magic could be one too. I just needed to give the magic the right incentive to hand over its secrets.
Right away, I knew it was the same person. The citrusy scent filled the space around us. I rubbed my nose, trying to get rid of the needing to sneeze feeling.
“Gheraldi,” I said. “I need you in the middle of the room.”
Before coming to the scene, I had gone to my lab to grab everything else I needed for the spell. I grabbed a piece of chalk and tossed it to Lombardi, who didn’t blink an eye as he caught the stick without breaking it.
“Circle,” I said.
A rumble came from his chest as he probably wondering why the hell an employee was telling him what to do. When I didn’t falter under his glare, he got to work.
I pulled out some ingredients and began mixing them. Just a quick and easy potion to increase my sensitivity. I needed to feel the magic on a microscopic level.
The potion took ten minutes to create, and the moment it was ready, I took it like a shot. My eye twitched at the bitterness, but I powered through and ignored the slight burn as it went down my throat. My stomach tried to send it back up, and I took deep breaths with my eyes closed until it settled.
When I finally opened my eyes, Gheraldi stood in the middle of the completed circle. Everything was ready to go.
“Okay,” I said, keeping myself in a calm state as I spoke to the labbie. “I’m going to activate this circle, I ask that you do not move. For this to work, it needs you. The magic in this space recognizes you and will want to please you. By making you the focal point, it’ll increase the chances of this working.”
“Got it,” Gheraldi replied, assessing every little thing I did. He could try to recreate this spell, but I didn’t think it would work.
I blew out a breath and approached the circle, stopping just inches away from the chalk line. “Everyone find a spot along the walls and once you’re there, don’t move. If you move around, you could potentially ruin the illusion created.”
I waited until everyone was in place and then began, closing my eyes and keeping my body relaxed. The phoenix feather sat in my hands, and I stroked the soft material.
My instrument. Phoenixes were pure magic and this feather was my connection to it.
My spell began with a hum and a strum of the feather. Music had always had a place in magic’s heart. I liked to think music was magic just because it had a way of reaching inside and yanking out all those bottled up emotions. Music could tear a soul apart and leave them raw, forcing emotions deeply tucked away to the forefront. That was pretty damn strong magic.
So I hummed. I kept the sound low and soft, barely audible to most people’s ears, but a certain set of eyes bore into me as I did it, and I knew Lombardi could hear me clearly.
This was my song to magic, my way to seduce and connect with it. I opened myself up, all the hairs on my body standing on end as the magic brushed against me in response. Warmth flooded my body. My eyes stayed on Lombardi as I did this, adding in a sense of intimacy to the song I’d never felt before. He made it all the more special and intricate. The room fell away, leaving just us two and the magic around us, drawing us closer together despite the space separating us.
Then I added in words of a language nearly extinct. Only two people in this city knew the language of Goddess Hekate, and I was one of them. As the Greek goddess of magic, she had a language she used specifically to wield it. I’d had to beg Lady Avaria to teach me. The words flowed from one to another, barely a breath between them, the language seamless and melodic. They entwined together and became one meaning. The magic stilled. Magic always moved around, but when I sang to it, it went still, stopped, and listened.
This was why music was magic. Only music had the power to make magic stop. Only magic had the power to fuel music.
Clothes rustled as someone shifted in reaction to the sudden stillness. The level of my voice didn’t change, but most of them could hear me once the white noise was gone.
I kept the song going, having enough material to go for a couple of hours. It was about patience, about seducing magic because despite it being flexible, it still didn’t like to give up its secrets, and I needed it to do it willingly. If forced, the magic would lash out. I only figured this out when I was a little too pushy in my attempts years ago.
The magic needed to be led, to think giving me what I wanted was its idea. Time didn’t matter as I stood there and sung. The others shifted, telling me they were growing uncomfortable—and maybe a little bored.
But then the magic gave in. It moved again, slowly, carefully reconstructing what I asked for. Gasps echoed around the room, telling me it worked. I opened my eyes to the view. Most everything looked the same, still all over the floor, but if I looked close enough, I would see those same items on the counters, where they used to sit.
My first thought: Gheraldi had a messy lab.
My second thought: That was one small dude.
The little guy was the size of my palm, with long pointy ears and small fluttering wings. He zipped around the room, causing havoc. He moved fast enough that we couldn’t pick up his image correctly. I just knew he had dark hair.
“Don’t move,” I reminded everyone as a guard shifted forward. “How many pixies are in the company?”
“We have seven,” Lombardi answered. I glanced at him to see his laser focus on the pixie, his lips pressed together.
Finally, the pixie decided to sit still to stare down at what looked like a notebook on the table. He even flipped over a page.
“Elsefer Brannon,” Lombardi growled and then stormed out of the room.
I took the time needed to release the magic slowly, letting the rendition melt away into nothing. I quickly put everything away and went after Lombardi, following the stream of furious energy.
Whoever the pixie was, he might not even be alive when I caught up.
Lombardi didn’t bother with the elevator, choosing to take the stairs up one floor. He stood in front of a lab door, glaring at it.
“Mr. Lombardi,” I said, keeping my voice low and soft. The last thing I wanted to do was push him over the edge. Muscles moved underneath his skin, his nose elongated slightly, hair sprouting up along his cheeks.
“Dwight!” I snapped out. I did not want the Black Dog to shift and hunt down a little pixie.
Saying his name seemed to work. He blinked, taking in a deep breath. He shook his head and it went back to his human shape, no signs of the beast peeking through, as long as you didn’t look at his eyes.
I never thought I would see him lose himself. Lombardi prided himself on his self-control. Even I couldn’t ruffle him, and I’d been told I tested the patience of even the Goddess. Davies liked to say the Devil wouldn’t even want me.
Lombardi gave me a nod to let me know he was okay before he pounded on the door. No answer, but by the magic seeping through and permeating the magical containment ward, I knew the little trouble maker was home.
Good.
Lombardi tried to open the door, but apparently Brannon knew how to protect himself. His wards had been shifted to keep even the Big Boss out. No room in this building should be able to do that.
I walked over and placed my hand on Lombardi’s arm to get him to stop trying to use his brute strength to break through. That wasn’t going to work. We needed finesse.
Lombardi turned his glare on me, a warning to back off. I simply applied pressure against him arm to move him over. After a pause to show me he was only allowing me to take his place, he stepped away.
I stared at the heavy door before reaching out and resting my palm against the tingling wood.
The anger I buried deep down boiled up. I used that to my advantage and did the cruelest thing one can do to magic—strip it of its purpose. I yanked the magic away from the door hard. Pain lashed out through my head, but I ignored it, kicking the door in once the wards were gone.
I never got a chance to slip inside. Something black and huge shoved me to the side as it ran by me. I stumbled but caught myself against the doorframe.
Things crashed, something growled, and someone yelled out.
I pushed off the doorframe, going deeper into the lab, trying to figure out what the hell happened. I wasn’t scared, because nothing dangerous, at least dangerous to us, was in the building.
The lab was small so I only needed moments to take in the scene.
A massive dog, about the size of a pony, stood in the room, growling, the shaggy black fur so dark it was nearly blue. Glowing red eyes were narrowed, focused on his victim. All the hair on my body reacted to the charged air all around, creating a heavy atmosphere.
Black Dog snapped his powerful mouth and a whimper from the corner came out. I moved slowly, trying to stay calm despite the very presence of Black Dog that had me wanting to run away and lock myself in my own lab. But I didn’t.
I kept reminding myself that Lombardi was Black Dog and he wouldn’t hurt us. That wasn’t who he was.
When I could finally see who he had in the corner, scared halfway to death, I stopped. The little pixie was pale, but that could be because Black Dog could swallow him whole. He had curled into himself and shook with terror. I almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
He had broken into my personal space. I was probably overreacting. I knew my childhood therapist would say I was. But that was my space and he had stained it with his intrusion. Something I learned quickly was that I needed a place. My own place, where I could just exist without holding back or holding myself in.
Whenever I moved to a new foster home, that was the very first thing I did. Whether it was in the unused basement or attic, or in a small field in the woods, I would find a place I could be alone, away from judging eyes.
Getting this job, I lucked out, getting that space right at work, and I got to visit it frequently. The pixie didn’t honor that and broke in. Frankly, Black Dog was too kind right now by not tearing into the creature.
As if sensing my bloodthirsty emotions, Black Dog stepped closer and snapped his teeth.
The pixie screamed, making me wince at the intensity of the sound. He tried to climb through the wall and then he wasn’t moving anymore.
Did... did Black Dog scare a pixie to death? Was that even possible?
The Black Dog approached the little guy and sniffed at him, letting out what sounded like a disappointed sigh.
He glanced at me. I stayed still.
He made a huffing noise and then his image shimmered, before elongating smoothly into his human shape. His scent was so strong, I had to look around to make sure I really didn’t go down to Hell. With the pixie no longer conscious and a potential threat, he was willing to go back to human form.
I glanced at Lombardi and nearly let out a squeak. He was completely naked. I had forgotten that when he shifted, he shredded his clothes. I did that move where you tried to look without them noticing you were looking. He was all hard planes sculpted to perfection. His dark skin glistened from shifting, sweat dotting his body, but he still looked unruffled. His muscles bulged, but he wasn’t overly buff. He had a wide chest, with just a little dusting of hair and a trail going down his stomach.
One of the guards passed him some clothes, and his muscles rippled. I wanted to look further down so hard, but I knew me. If I saw, I would want a taste. No way in hell I could taste Big Boss. That was a road I didn’t want to go down.
Before I lost to weakness, he was covered in a dark gray shirt with the company name across the front, and standard light gray sweatpants that the meatheads wore when working out. I had to wipe my drool and push away the aching loss, as if my body knew I’d missed out on something wonderful.
“That was easy,” he said, crouching down to get a closer look at Brannon.
“Easy?” I asked, getting my head out of the gutter. “You scared him to death.”
“He’s still alive. He just fainted.”
I blinked a couple of times, and then I had to fight to keep from laughing. My lip did twitch though and from the humor in Lombardi’s dark eyes, he thought my fight for control was amusing.
Lombardi pulled out his phone, hit a few buttons and seconds later, guards came inside, picking up the pixie and carrying him away to be detained and questioned. I expected he wouldn’t grace us with his presence again. Lombardi supported his employees and truly cared, but he didn’t let anyone get away with anything either.
My first experience with Lombardi was watching as he literally dragged some woman out of the building and tossed her on her ass. I still didn’t know what she’d done, people just shook their heads when I asked.
“Now that he’s taken care of, let’s focus on not getting one of the last remaining dragons killed,” Lombardi said.
“Wait,” I said, switching gears in my brain. “Last remaining?”
Lombardi cocked an eyebrow. “You know dragons are rare.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but I figured they were endangered rare, not critically endangered rare.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Critically would be only a handful. They’re pretty much gone.”
“Then consider dragons critically endangered. There are only twelve known dragons in the world now. Evidenced by how we are going above and beyond for Shanton, they’re severely protected.”
“He should be able to just munch on anyone who wants to kill him,” I grumbled.
“He could if he wanted to, but why should he when he has others willing to do the dirty work for him.”
“Spoiled.”
Lombardi chuckled. “That he is.”