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  “I knew you were in there somewhere.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” I stared at him, uneasiness creeping through me. My hand started to heat. In the back of my mind, I heard a soothing murmur. My sword, whispering to me. All is well, child…all is well. I am here…

  A weird refrain for her. I was more used to the words… Call me, I am here. She came to my call when I needed her, something I’d learned when I’d been trapped in the dirt, gasping for air and begging for an escape that I knew didn’t exist.

  Except it had.

  But she didn’t seem to think I needed her.

  Maybe I didn’t. This peacock was annoying, but I didn’t think he was dangerous. Not to me at least.

  A queer smile lit his eyes and he just continued to watch me. “I knew something was under all those nerves you wear like a second skin. You ready to come out and play or not?”

  Play?

  “You think this is a game?” I curled a hand into a fist. Surprise ricocheted through me as I realized something—I wanted to punch him. Arrogant, cocky piece of work.

  “No. It’s not a game—it’s a hunt and you want in on it as much as I do.”

  He was right. I knew it. Not that I’d tell him but he was right. And I still wanted to punch him.

  Something of that must have shown on my face because he laughed. Quick as a wish, he reached out and cupped my chin. Something hot shivered through my veins as his thumb pressed against my lips. “Keep that thought, Kitty-kitty. You and I can go a round after we catch this son of a bitch.”

  I curled my lip at him, jerking out of his reach. “I’m starting to think I’d rather not mess with you. Maybe I should try to do it all by myself.”

  “Oh, really?” He cocked his head, green eyes all but laughing at me.

  Bladed Magic

  A Kit Colbana Short Story

  J.C. Daniels

  The events of this short story take place after A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK and before BLADE SONG

  Also available:

  Blade Song

  Night Blade

  Broken Blade

  Copyright 2014 Shiloh Walker

  Cover Art by Angela Waters

  Editorial Work Sara Reinke

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people.

  Please note that if you purchased this from an auction site or blog, it’s stolen property. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Your support is what makes it possible for authors to continue to provide the stories you enjoy.

  Chapter One

  “So, who wants to talk and who wants to die?”

  The voice coming from the alley behind TJ’s was cheerful, just a little too cheerful, considering the grim message in his words. It was a little scary, though, because that cheer was not false. Whoever he was, he was all too excited about the thought of making somebody talk, then bleed, then die.

  In that order.

  I could smell the blood in the air and it wasn’t shapeshifter blood. I knew that smell all too well, but that was just because I worked in a bar where blood was spilled. A lot. Shapeshifters liked to fight, after all, and those fights led to bloodshed. Lucky me, I got to clean it up.

  Go inside. That was the voice of common sense.

  I was done working. Nothing for me to do, really. I never did anything, other than work. Well, other than lock myself in my room and read. Or lock myself in the little gym TJ had let me set up and work out. I could do either one of those and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

  This one night, I’d felt an odd little pull, something that had tugged me out of the bar. Go back inside, I told myself.

  Something sizzled in the air and I felt it dance across my skin.

  Then there was a yell, followed by a grunt and a series of thuds.

  It was getting really hard to pretend this wasn’t happening. If I went back inside and acted like I hadn’t noticed anything, I’d have a hard time facing myself in the morning.

  My inability to mind my own business will be the death of me. Here lies Kit Colbana, killed by her own curiosity. That will be my epitaph. Still, I couldn’t stay there, shifting from one foot to the other while I listened to somebody getting the hell beaten out of them.

  Keeping to the shadows, I moved down the maze of twisting, narrow little paths and paused when I reached the junction up ahead. It was there. Just ahead and to the right. The smell of blood was stronger and I could hear somebody laughing. It was the man I’d heard earlier—

  “Oh, come on, you can do better than that…”

  His voice sounded thick now. Not quite so eager to make something talk, then bleed, then die.

  Of course, he was the one talking, in a voice that was thick and wet. He was bleeding, too. I could see that when I peered around the corner. There he was, caught between two wolves—shapeshifters—while a third drew back a hand and slammed it into his gut.

  He crumpled around the fist.

  “Who are you working for?” A new voice now, somebody big and mean. He drove another fist into the man’s gut as he spoke. I raked him with a look, sized him up. A werewolf.

  The entire tableau was surreal. There were three weres, the one doing the pummeling, while the other two held a brown-haired man immobile.

  “One more time, you little fuck.” The were smashed a giant fist into the man’s face and I winced as blood splattered out in an arcing spray. “Who are you working for?”

  There was no answer, just a nasal sort of groan.

  The werewolf in front of him fisted a hand in the man’s hair and jerked his head up, leaning in to snarl at the man. He looked…human. I didn’t feel that weird kind of energy I sensed around all shifters, which meant if this kept up, he’d be dead.

  Nervous, I glanced behind me. Could I get back to the bar and Goliath?

  I didn’t know.

  Sliding a hand inside my vest, I touched one of the silver knives.

  “Come on, witch. You aren’t down here asking about night just because you want to.” The wolf reached up, caught the man’s face, started to squeeze.

  Horrified, I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. I couldn’t look away as I watched those fingers dig in. I knew how strong shifters were. They could crush bone, stone, metal.

  The man groaned hoarsely.

  Shit. I can’t watch this. I had to do something—had to help.

  Abruptly, it was like the fight drained out of him.

  “There. That’s what I thought.” The wolf backed up and now, all I could see was his back. “Give me the name, boy. You don’t want me telling TJ you been running around behind her back and fucking her over, do you? Selling drugs to kids, skimming her profits?”

  What?

  “Did you hear that?” One of the other wolves looked up, eyes narrowing.

  Oh. Shit.

  I’d bumped something on the ground. It wouldn’t have been loud enough for anybody human to hear.

  But we weren’t dealing with humans. The NH—non-human—population had sharper senses and I had all but shouted my presence.

  “Sounds like…”

  I gripped the knife and shot a look once more toward TJ’s. If I r
an, they’d catch me. If I called for Goliath, he’d hear me, but probably not in time.

  Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  I should have gone to my room and finished my damn book.

  A shadow stretched out along the ground in front of me—so close.

  Instinct moved me and I lunged out, threw the knife.

  I hadn’t taken out a target since the night in the sewers, but I never once doubted my aim.

  I am aneira—

  The words echoed in the back of my mind. I’d heard them, so often, in the years before I’d run away. Time seemed to slow.

  My aim is true.

  And it was. The blade flew, straight and true and so very fast. So fast the shifter didn’t even have time to avoid it. The silver buried itself in the shifter’s heart. Without waiting to see what happened, I lunged at him and as he hit the ground, I wrenched the knife around, twisting it. The scent of smoke filled the air. I didn’t waste another second. I came up and dove forward in a somersault. I landed in a crouch as I faced the other two shapeshifters.

  The man pinned to the wall looked at me with greener than green eyes. To my surprise, he grinned. “It’s about fucking time.”

  My jaw fell open and then there was no time for anything else. The other shifter lunged for me and I fumbled with my knife.

  Teeth closed around my arm but I still got it up, shoving it into his gut. He howled as silver met skin. I swallowed down a scream, struggling to think past the pain. I knew how to do that—those lessons had been drilled into me back before I even understood what pain really was. Whipping my blade out, I drove it in, then jerked up while he continued to gnaw at me like a dog with a bone. And I felt like a bone—a broken one as his jaws managed to clamp down until the bones in my forearm shattered.

  I fought the blackness back. Can’t…

  Something brilliant and white exploded around us and then the weight of his body was gone from me.

  A face appeared in my vision.

  The man they’d been beating—

  His eyes were a vivid wicked green and despite the bruises on his face, he was grinning.

  “You did pretty good.” Then he cocked his head. “Took you a while, though.”

  Struggling to think past the nauseating pain in my arm, I just stared at him while he hauled me to my feet. Everything around me was spinning.

  My arm bumped up against him and I bit back a scream. “Shit,” he said. “You did a number on your arm.”

  Don’t look, don’t look…

  I couldn’t help it.

  I looked. My arm didn’t look like anything so much as meat.

  Bits of bone jutted out and flesh hung in strips.

  I don’t know if it was the pain from my arm or the pain in my head, but in the next moment, I was bent over and puking my guts up.

  * * * * *

  For one moment only, I let myself lay there, taking stock. I knew where I was. TJ and Goliath had come a-running. Well, Goliath had run. TJ had maneuvered her way up over the uneven ground in her chair and her eyes had glittered with menace as she looked at us.

  Then I was unceremoniously taken back to TJ’s, back to my room.

  Consciousness was stolen away after TJ forced a healing tonic on me. I’d preferred the quiet of that darkness to the noise going on around me now.

  “—hired you to find that cocksucker, not get one of my girls beat up, you idiot witch!”

  TJ. I knew that voice. Okay. If TJ was around—and pissed-off—that meant things weren’t too bad. Except my arm still screamed at me. Damn. That tonic hadn’t kept me under long enough to do any good.

  “Hey, look. I got the job done. I found the cocksucker and he’s not going to be going around selling cheap drugs and claiming you knew about it,” a voice said. That voice—

  I jerked upright, sucking in harsh, deep breaths as I looked around. That voice was familiar. I didn’t like that voice. I couldn’t remember why—

  Two people were staring at me.

  TJ—the werewolf who’d taken me in a few years ago—was one of them.

  The other one was the witch I’d seen getting the shit beaten out of him. The bruising was fading from his face and his green eyes looked even greener. Now, those green eyes dipped down and a smile spread across his face. Something about it made me look down and I felt a blush heat my face as I realized my tits were bared for all the world to see.

  “Justin, quit thinking with your dick,” TJ snapped, tossing a shirt at me before wheeling her way over to my side. Her gaze was hard as she stared at me. “Colleen is coming over to deal with your arm. I ought to let you be miserable with it, though.”

  “Hey, I was just trying to help.” I tried to figure out the best way to get the shirt on and in the end, dealt with the indignity of letting TJ help me.

  Years before I’d met her, TJ had been wounded—badly—by her Alpha. She’d told me that she’d tried to escape the insane son of a bitch and when he’d caught her, he’d punished her by amputating her legs. A werewolf can heal from that, but she’d never had the chance. A witch had forced a healing on her in that very state, leaving her legs nothing but stumps. She’d never run as a wolf should run. But she’d carved out her own territory down here in Florida and her word was law.

  Of course, this Justin, whoever he was, didn’t look too fazed by her. He continued to watch me, that heated grin still on his face as I finished wiggling around to get the shirt in place, holding back the whimpers more than once as I jarred my arm. Colleen couldn’t get here fast enough. She was a witch who knew how to heal and while some innate part of me rejected needing help from anybody, I couldn’t be handicapped with a busted arm, either.

  Feeling the weight of that watchful gaze, I slid the man another look. His eyes were intent as I finished buttoning up the shirt one-handed. “The way you act, you’d think you’ve never seen a woman’s breasts before,” I muttered.

  “Oh, I’ve seen breasts before.” That grin widened. “That doesn’t mean I’m fool enough to pass up the opportunity to admire them any chance I get.”

  Since there was no safe answer to that, I just ignored him. “Anybody want to fill me in on what’s going on?”

  Next to me, TJ sighed.

  The witch opened his mouth.

  “Shut it, Justin.”

  Justin. I flicked him a look, a longer one this time. He was still smiling, a sly one that suited his pretty features. And he was pretty, even under those fading bruises.

  “Justin’s a freelance witch,” TJ said, drawing my attention back to her. “I’ve been having…issues. Somebody is running drugs through here and claiming ties to me.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That’s bullshit. You aren’t into drugs.”

  “Only because it’s not worth the hassle.” She shrugged and looked away. “And… there are sometimes unwanted complications. But this is different. This shit’s been laced with silver and it killed two dumbass wolves up in Orlando. Normally, I wouldn’t worry about it because anybody stupid enough to mess with night—”

  “Night?” I’d heard that phrase, several times now. Somehow I didn’t think she meant the opposite of day.

  She lifted a brow. “It’s a narcotic for shifters. Regular drugs don’t affect us. Metabolism throws it off. That’s why our alcohol content has to be higher in order for us to even get a hint of a buzz and why I told you it’s off limits for you. It would put you on your skinny ass—if you’re lucky. Anyway, Night is a narcotic for shifters. This stuff is poison, though. It’s tainted and whoever is selling it knows it and doesn’t care. One of the wolves that got a bad dose was fifteen. He’s still in a coma. His body can’t throw off the silver and he took so much in, he stopped breathing for a while. He might wake up. He might not.”

  I closed my eyes. “Kids. They are selling it to kids.”

  “Somebody is.” Her voice was grim. “So that’s why Justin is here. Banner won’t get involved unless it affects humans and I don’t want to mess with the Assembly.�
�

  What a surprise. TJ wouldn’t touch the Assembly—the governing force for the non-humans—with a ten foot pole. I flicked the witch a measuring gaze. “So you looked for outside help.”

  “I’m good at what I do.” He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his pants and cocked his head at me, studying me in a way that made me want to squirm. “You handle yourself pretty nice out there. You ever think of—”

  “No.” I clambered out of the bed, belatedly noticing I was also missing pants. The shirt hid enough of me that I was decently covered but I still felt exposed. Heading to the closet, I pulled it open and grabbed a pair of black jeans before I turned around.

  Both of them watched me. “You sure about that?” Justin asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He lifted a shoulder, the movement graceful, lazy. But the gleam in his eyes had me gritting my teeth. “Well, you look like a little bit of nothing. But you went after a rat pack and helped bring them down. There’s gotta be something to you.”

  The rat pack. Yeah, thanks for mentioning them. I fought the urge to flip him off as a chill raced down my spine. The rat pack was something I tried not to think about. I didn’t want to remember any of it. The rats, the vampire who’d ended up helping me…Mandy.

  “This little bit of nothing already has a job. One that doesn’t involve getting bloodied.”

  “Yeah. You work in a bar and serve up beers. Must be fascinating.” His dry tone grated on my skin like sandpaper.

  I curled my lip at him and then disappeared into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind me. Then I just stood there, my broken arm bound to my chest.

  He’d leave.

  Then I could go back to my nice, boring existence.

  Chapter Two

  Nice boring existence.

  That was the plan.

  I liked working at TJ’s. Working the bar was easy. I was safe here, I made decent money and money was nice. I could buy clothes and I had more clothes than I actually needed. I could buy lotion and soaps and I had way more of those than I needed. Sometimes, I spent an hour in the tub, just playing with the suds. That might sound crazy, but up until I’d landed at TJ’s, it was a luxury I’d never imagined. Up until I’d managed to escape the hell that had been my life, I’d lived in rags, my skin perpetually dirty. Having lots of clothes, even just the jeans and T-shirts I lived in was a nice thing. A very nice thing. Having soaps and lotions that smelled like a small slice of heaven was even better, especially since TJ had introduced to me to a herb witch she knew who was able to mix them up custom—nothing too overpowering for my sensitive nose—or TJ’s—but still enough to make me feel…girly.