Reliquary (Reliquary Series Book 1)

  I melted into the crowd near the bar and cautiously danced my way to the entrance of the hallway, where I slipped in behind a couple that was headed for a room.

  “You sure you want to do this?” the woman asked her companion.

  “Yeah,” said the guy. “They’ll never trace it back to me. I’ll just put it in the office where he’ll find it and pick it up, and wham—” He glanced over his shoulder, saw me, and clamped his mouth shut.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t judge.” I smiled. There you go. Subtle.

  Each door along the hallway had a symbol on it and a number, and the couple peeled off to go into room six, which had a rough cross carved into the door. I wondered what it meant—that guy sure wasn’t here to say his prayers. All alone now, I walked slowly, leaning in to listen for murmured conversations behind the doors. I was mostly met with silence. Some moaning, but I was familiar with that now. And then . . . I paused in front of room thirteen, which had a hexagon with three parallel horizontal lines through it. Was that the jerk’s voice?

  “Everyone ready?” he asked. Then someone else said something, too muffled for me to hear. I leaned closer, straining to catch any hint of what was going on inside, what the jerk might be doing and who he was with, anything that would hint at his true identity or give me a clue I could use to find Ben. “This is going to take a few minutes.”

  More muffled words. I leaned closer and pressed my ear to the door.

  . . . Which wasn’t actually fully closed. The moment I put my weight on it, the thing swung open and I stumbled forward, off-balance in my strappy heels. I had the impression of shocked faces in the candlelight as my arms flailed. Then my toe caught and I went down, landing directly on top of an immense shirtless man. Panicked, I slapped my hands down to push myself up, my palms coming into contact with his bare, hairy flesh. And as soon as they did, a rush of intense sensation shot up my arms and into my chest, like my veins had been injected with liquid lightning. My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t get my lungs to draw air. My eyes were wide, but all I could see was sparks and flashing colors. My thoughts were like Niagara Falls, roaring and rushing with unstoppable speed straight over the edge, crashing onto rocks, white mist filling the space within my skull.

  My head bounced off the floor as I hit the ground. Blinking and gasping, I looked up to see three faces gazing down at me.

  Three very angry faces.

  “What just happened?” asked the man I’d landed on. His flabby middle was sagging over his belt, and a gold chain held a pendant nestled in his abundant chest hair. “She stole it before I got to feel a thing.”

  “Hey, I didn’t steal anything,” I said.

  “Shut the fuck up,” a woman snapped. She had garish auburn hair that was clearly dyed and the face of a woman in her late fifties. She was looking at me as if I were a cockroach she’d love to stomp on. “Asa, I demand an explanation. Who is this? Is she a conduit?”

  Asa Ward looked down at me with his deep-set honey-brown eyes. “No,” he said, his voice flat. “She’s a goddamn reliquary.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I’m a what?”

  “Shut up,” all three of them said at once.

  “Did any of it get into the relic?” the woman asked.

  “Hand it over,” said Asa. “Let me see.” He wiggled his fingers impatiently, and the shirtless man pulled the necklace over his head. Asa cradled it in his palm for a brief moment before handing it back to the guy. “Nope. Totally empty.”

  “You do not want to screw with me,” the woman said, shooting daggers at Asa.

  “I’ll just be going now,” I said quietly. “So sorry for interrupting.” I started to sit up.

  Asa pressed the toe of his boot into my shoulder. “Stay. Down.” He tore his gaze from my face to look at the woman. “I’m sorry about this, Mrs. Lichtel. I’ll recover the magic and get it into the relic as soon as possible. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

  “What about me?” asked the shirtless guy.

  Asa patted the man’s shoulder. “Go have a drink on me, Don. But stay at the bar, okay? I’m going to want you back in a bit.” He glanced down at me. “I just need a few minutes.”

  Mrs. Lichtel nudged me in the ribs with her red pump. “And her? She stole from me. Who let her in here?”

  I looked down at myself. Something had definitely happened, but it hadn’t felt like any magic experience I’d had thus far. “I don’t think I—” I gasped as Asa’s boot pressed harder into my shoulder.

  “I’ll deal with her,” he said, staring steadily at Mrs. Lichtel as if daring her to question him. A drop of sweat glistened at his temple.

  “I want my magic in that relic tonight,” she said from between gritted teeth. “Or you can kiss your commission good-bye. Your choice.”

  Every line of Asa’s body was etched with tension. “Of course.” He gestured toward the door. “Right now, though, we need a few minutes of privacy.”

  Mrs. Lichtel looked stunned for a moment, but then she stalked into the hallway.

  “But I didn’t get to—” began Don the shirtless guy, but Asa merely shoved a shirt into the guy’s arms and ushered him to the door, finally taking his freaking boot off my shoulder in the process. I took the chance to look around. I was lying next to a cot, where Don had been when I’d landed on him. The only other furniture in the room was an upholstered burgundy chair in the corner and a table lined with a row of three candles. Asa’s cases were against the wall.

  “It turns out I didn’t know you that well at all,” Asa said quietly as he shut the door and leaned on it, blocking my only escape route.

  I couldn’t sit up even absent Asa’s boot on my shoulder, but I managed to prop myself on an elbow. My head was throbbing, and I was still out of breath. My chest felt like it had been pumped full of ocean water, stinging from the salt. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were his brother?”

  “Because it was none of your business.” He was watching me like a fox might watch a rabbit.

  “Well, you’d better let me walk right out of here. I told the police I was coming, and they’ll bust all of you,” I said.

  “No, you didn’t.” His voice was completely calm. “You rushed in without thinking. That’s what you do, isn’t it? I told you it was dangerous.”

  My eyes started to burn, but there was no way I was going to cry in front of this jerk. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “No, you meant to eavesdrop.”

  “I wanted to know if you were Ben’s brother.”

  “And now you do.”

  “Right.” My voice was barely more than a whisper, because my throat was suddenly so dry. “And now I’ll be going.”

  “Nope. You seem to have forgotten that you’re in possession of stolen property.”

  I groaned. “Why do you guys keep saying that? I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

  “Don’t tell me you can’t feel it.” Before I could flinch back, he was on his knees next to me, his long fingers around my throat. I cried out, but he shushed me as if I were his dog and closed his eyes. His brow furrowed and his mouth drooped into a frown before he opened his eyes once more. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

  I glared at him. “Doing what? Let me go!”

  Asa released my throat, slipped his arm under me, and deposited me onto the cot. The temptation to punch him was overwhelming. Instead, I clenched my fists and pressed them to my forehead, resting my elbows on my knees. “Just tell me what a reliquary is, you jerk. And explain what just happened.”

  “You touched my conduit in the middle of a transaction. We were moving the magic from a natural into a relic via the conduit, but as soon as you fell on Don, it all flowed straight into you, where it will remain until I extract it.”

  I shrank back so abruptly that the cot would have overturned if Asa hadn’t braced his foot on the edge of it. “We can do it fast,” he said. “All I need is Don back in here and your coope
ration.”

  I rubbed my hand over my chest. “Are you saying that there’s magic inside of me?”

  He nodded. “A sweet little package of manip, meant for a corporate customer. Not a huge amount, but very high quality. It’s a hefty commission and I am planning to collect, one way or the other.”

  “Manip?”

  “Manipulation. The customer wears that necklace in the boardroom, and boom—they miraculously vote in her favor every time.”

  “Manipulation . . . magic? Like . . . wait. Is this actually magic? Like magic magic?” I stifled a half-hysterical giggle. “You’re serious?”

  “‘Magic magic’?” He groaned. “I wasn’t wrong about you after all. You really don’t have a clue.”

  “I don’t have a clue? Do you have any idea how ridiculous all of this sounds?”

  “I don’t give a shit how it sounds to you. If you hadn’t busted in here and ruined my fucking night, I wouldn’t have to spell it out for you! But since you did, and since you’re the one who asked the fucking question in the first place, I suggest you listen to my answer.” He rolled his eyes. “Or don’t. I can pull that magic out of you whether you cooperate or not.”

  “Screw you, Asa.” I clumsily got to my feet, that weird sloshy feeling trying to pull me back down. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice told me to be scared, but I was too overwhelmed by everything else to feel it.

  Asa stepped between me and the door. “You’re not going anywhere until we get Mrs. Lichtel’s juice out of you.”

  “Unless you want me to kick and scream, you won’t lay a finger on me.”

  He shrugged. “I could just get Rhonda in here to tell you to stay quiet and cooperate.”

  “Rhonda?”

  “The blonde at the door. You might have noticed that she’s very good at getting her way. Or, hey, Mrs. Lichtel herself would probably love to play with your mind—but she won’t be as gentle. She’s pissed.”

  I looked away. “Please don’t do that to me,” I whispered.

  “Then play nice and help me get back what you took, Mattie.”

  His voice was as soft as I’d ever heard it, and I looked back at him. Now that I knew who he was, I could see a slight resemblance to Ben. His hair was darker, but like Ben’s, it had a wave to it, an inclination toward curly. His cheekbones were sharper, but like Ben’s, they were high and defined. There was a curve to his mouth that was vaguely familiar, but I hadn’t yet seen Asa truly smile—though I had seen him smirk. I stared at him, missing Ben so much that it hurt, and wishing his brother would show an ounce of the compassion Ben possessed in spades. “Can you please explain to me how I supposedly ‘stole’ the magic? It’s the least you can do if you want me to help.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake—” He put up his hands in surrender when he saw the look on my face. “Okay, okay. Whatever it takes to get you the hell out of here. Yes, we’re talking about ‘magic magic,’ as you put it. Some people are born with it. Most aren’t.”

  “And I was born with it?”

  “Nope.” He gestured impatiently for me to sit down on the cot again, then slid down the door to sit on the floor. “You don’t have magic of your own, but you can store it.”

  “In my body.” It was somewhere in my chest. I could feel it in there, the slightest pressure, a kind of unsteadiness, like my center of gravity had moved.

  He nodded. “Every reliquary is different. The best can hold vast amounts of magic indefinitely, and not a soul will know it’s there.” His eyes met mine. “Not even someone like me.”

  “Are you a reliquary, too?”

  He shook his head. “I’m a sensor. A sniffer.”

  “Like that bouncer outside? He was touching people, and using that to decide if they could come in or not.”

  “Diego’s a different kind of sensor. Intention is his specialty. Bart’s one, too, but for emotion. I can’t sense feelings or intentions, or not any more than a normal person can, at least.”

  “So there are different kinds of sensors. And you sense . . .”

  He stared at me steadily for a moment. “The presence of magic.”

  I buried my head in my hands again. “I’m so confused.”

  Asa sighed. “Four types of magic, three types of human vessels.”

  “Okay. Sensing—”

  “It’s called Sensilo.”

  “And pleasure—”

  He was getting fidgety, tapping his toe, his jaw tight. “Ekstazo. It’s the juice that powers all those toys out there.”

  “Fine. And then there’s Mrs. Lichtel. She’s a manipulator.”

  His eyes glinted in the candlelight. “They’re called Knedas.”

  “And reliquaries are the fourth kind?”

  He groaned, like his impatience couldn’t quite be contained. “Different kind of vessel. You don’t have magic. Neither do the conduits, like Don. Magic passes right through him, but for a moment he gets to feel it. Probably why half of them do this job.”

  I thought back over what I had stumbled into. “So when I interrupted, Mrs. Lichtel was passing her magic through Don and into the necklace?”

  Asa tapped the tip of his slightly crooked nose. “And then you crashed the party.”

  “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d actually made sure the door was shut.”

  He arched one dark eyebrow.

  “Is Ben like you?” I whispered.

  “Ben is nothing like me.” He pushed his way up from the floor.

  “But he was using magic.”

  “Right. A user.”

  “He’s drained his bank accounts. He’s—”

  “Not my concern.” Asa rubbed his hands over his face.

  “You seriously don’t care?”

  His hands dropped to his sides. “Not even a little, Mattie. And now that we’ve had our little Q&A, can I get Don in here so I can conclude my business for the night? Gracie’s in the van, and I don’t like to leave her alone for long.”

  I couldn’t fault him for being worried about his dog—thus far it was the only likeable thing about him. And he clearly wasn’t going to let me leave until he’d pulled the magic out of me, an idea that was about as pleasant as a trip to the dentist . . . but more pleasant than the idea of blond Rhonda or nasty Mrs. Lichtel coming in here and screwing with my mind.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll wait here while you go get him.” Maybe once Asa went out to the bar to fetch his conduit friend, I could find that side entrance and bolt for my car.

  Asa tilted his head. “I wouldn’t go anywhere, Mattie. If you do, I will hunt you down. And believe me when I say I don’t stop until I get what’s mine.” He opened the door and leaned into the hallway, where he flagged down someone and told them to get Don.

  “Ah. Here we go,” he said a moment later. He pulled the door wide, and in came Don, his face flushed and sweat dripping from his fleshy cheeks.

  “I was dancing,” he said between heavy breaths. Don’s curly hair was standing on end like he had been electrified.

  Asa gestured between us. “Don, Mattie. Mattie, Don.”

  “And you’re really a reliquary?” Don asked. “Never met one of those.”

  “You wouldn’t know if you did,” Asa said as he gestured for Don to lie on the cot. I edged to the side to make room, especially as Don stripped his shirt off again, revealing his hairy chest and the gold necklace that was supposed to be the repository of the manipulation magic that I’d inadvertently sucked up.

  God, what a weird night. It was like I’d stepped into a parallel universe. How were these people walking among us, with all these special things they could do? How many other people really knew about it, like Grandpa? Last night I’d stumbled into a drug den, and suddenly I found myself wishing it were that simple. Magic was apparently real. Not only that, it was some kind of black market business for these people. And for all I knew, Ben had been the victim of a hit. Maybe the contractor who’d renovated the clinic wasn’t the only one Ben owed m
oney to.

  “Mattie, I want you to sit on the floor next to Don.”

  Don looked up at me and grinned. “Unless you want to lie on top of me like you did before?”

  “I’m cool with standing,” I said as Don waggled his eyebrows.

  Asa stepped between us, his back to me, and leaned over Don for a moment. He didn’t say anything, but when he stepped away, Don’s face was pale, his gaze averted. Asa turned to me. “You’ve never done this before,” he said, his voice low. “If you start on the floor, you won’t have far to fall.”

  At least he’d somehow gotten Don to behave. Reluctantly, I sank to the carpet. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just sit there and let Don do the work.”

  Great. I was just a piece of luggage they needed to unpack. “Is it going to hurt?”

  “Did it hurt going in?”

  “No.”

  “There’s your answer,” said Asa. “It’s not pain magic.”

  “Pain magic?”

  “That’s the fourth kind,” Asa said, his voice flat.

  Don shuddered. “I don’t mess with the Strikon,” he said to me.

  “Do you do this a lot?”

  “I’m kind of new to it.” He rubbed his belly. “I’m an accountant, actually. But this pays well, and it feels good. Pretty sweet gig, if you ask me.”

  Asa squatted next to us. “Okay, Don, you ready?”

  “I was ready an hour ago,” he said, swiping sweat from his brow. He stuck out his hand, offering it to me. “Let’s do this.”

  “Take his hand, Mattie.”

  I looked down at Don’s fleshy hand, really not wanting to touch his clammy skin again. Then again, I didn’t really have a choice. Slowly, I slipped my palm onto his, and his fingers closed around mine. Don’s eyes fell shut and he arched up a little, but then he sagged back down.