Chasing Steel: Capturing Magic Books 1-3 Read online

  I try to scream, but I’m jerked backward, farther away from the curtain and into a small room that I’m assuming is behind the door.

  “Shhh …” the Wishing Shadow whispers in my ear. “No one’s going to hurt you, princess.”

  I bite down on the fucker’s hand then kick him in the shin, but it barely fazes him.

  He pulls me deeper into the room that is lit up by a single, flickering light. A chair is in the corner, and chains and cuffs have been strapped to the arms and legs.

  Panic soars through me as he guides me into the chair. I immediately start to stand up, but the cuffs snap around my wrists and ankles, by magic I’m guessing.

  Taking a deep breath, I open my mouth to scream, but no sound leaves my lips. As the severity of the situation weighs down on me, I swallow hard.

  “Relax, princess.” The Wishing Shadow steps in front of me. “Like I said, no one’s going to hurt you.”

  He’s wearing the cloak he had on earlier, but the hood is lowered so I can see his face better. His features are striking, not just in the sense that he’s gorgeous in a scary, intimidating sort of way, but his face is also familiar. A click of a moment later, I figure out why.

  He looks kind of like Asher.

  Sure, his lips are silver instead of blue, but they are full and shaped like Asher’s. His eyes are the same shape, too, but glow with embers instead of flames. And his hair is equally as dark, but chin-length instead of short.

  “Who are you?” I whisper, digging my fingernails into the arms of the chair as frustration boils through me.

  Why can’t I scream or at least talk louder? Is he using magic on me? Borrowed magic from Asher’s father? That thought makes a foul, sickening knot form in the pit of my stomach.

  He crouches down in front of me and rests his arms on my legs. His skin is unpredictably warm. “Do you really not know the answer to that? Because, creatures can usually see the resemblance right away.”

  I will my voice to come out smooth. “You’re Asher’s father’s Wishing Shadow.”

  His brows elevate to his hairline. “Okay, that was not what I expected you to say.” He eyes me over inquisitively. “Just how much has my brother told you about his life?”

  My eyes enlarge. “Brother?”

  His lips curl. “Did he not mention that part?” When I frown, he tacks on, “Don’t take it personally. No one in the family ever talks about me. I’m kind of a disappointment, being what I am and all. Then again, my father’s disappointed in everything except for himself.” He angles his head to the side and studies me. “Except for you. He seemed positively pleased when I told him that I’d found you and that you were still as clueless as you were the first time he met you.”

  Anger bubbles underneath my flesh, blinding rage that makes me want to shred this Wishing Shadow apart with my bare hands.

  “You should take me to him,” I whisper lowly. “Let us get reacquainted.” Then I can finally get my revenge.

  Now that I have powers, that could very well happen. Then again, I can’t control them very well. Like right now, I can’t even get them to manifest.

  Come on, powers. Free me! Turn this chair into a snake.

  The stillness in my body causes my frustration to intensify.

  Dammit! What’s the point in having powers if I can’t even use them when I need them?

  The Wishing Shadow’s silvery lips twist into a grin. “As much as I’d love to give you the opportunity to get your revenge on my father, that magic of yours is pretty much useless right now.”

  “What do you know about my magic?” I question, pausing my escape.

  “Now, what would be the fun in just telling you?” Amusement twinkles in his eyes, yet sadness somehow haunts his face.

  “It’d be fun because it’d give you the opportunity to help me learn more about my powers, which would help me be able to control them better, which might lead to me being able to take your father down, which will not only eliminate his disappointment in you—you know, seeing as how he’d be dead and all—but it’d also free you.” The latter I’m unsure about, but I’m attempting to bullshit my way out of this, and I’ll put money on him wanting to be free. No one wants to be a servant.

  He momentarily studies me. “You’re an … interesting creature.”

  “Why does everyone always say that?” I scoff, jerking on the chains.

  A smile touches his lips that makes him look less scary. “Because you are.” He watches me struggle to get free in utter fascination. “You won’t escape, no matter how hard you pull on those things.”

  I continue to try anyway, throwing my weight forward. “Clearly, you’ve never chained up an awesome and very clever thief before.”

  His smile expands. “You’re amusing. Almost makes me wish I didn’t have to do what I’m about to do.”

  An icy chill spills across my flesh as the door behind him swings open. Maple steps inside, a devious smile consuming her face as she takes in the chains securing me to the chair.

  “Not so feisty now, are we?” she sneers, crossing her arms and smirking.

  “When I get out of these chains,” I say in an eerily calm tone, “I’m going to wipe that smirk off your face with my fist.”

  Her nostrils flare, while the Wishing Shadow busts up laughing, but the noise is shaky and raspy, as if it’s been ages since he laughed.

  “Maxton,” Maple warns, “you will not laugh at me, or else I’ll make sure your father curses you with a decade’s worth of silence.”

  He rolls his tongue along his teeth, his jaw ticking, and his fingers curling inward. “Fine,” he grinds out, the embers in his eyes sizzling.

  “So, your name’s Maxton.” A conniving smile pulls at my lips. “Good to know.”

  “And why’s that?” He seems authentically curious.

  I lean closer to him, so close our noses nearly touch. “Because it makes it easier to track you down when I get my revenge.”

  His eyes smolder, and an unsteady breath eases past his lips, his gaze briefly dropping to my own lips. Then he quickly shakes his head. “You say that like you’re going to escape.”

  “Oh, I’m going to.” I slant back in the chair and let a lazy grin spread across my face. “Just you wait.”

  Yeah, I’m so full of shit. I have no clue how I’m going to get out of here since I can’t scream and magic is binding these chains to me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t pretend and make him squirm a bit.

  Of course, he seems more intrigued than squirmy to me, so perhaps I’m not pretending as well as I normally do.

  “Let’s just get this over with.” Maple ambles toward me, adjusting the bracelets on her wrists. “August wants her off the planet and into his hands before the sun goes down.”

  “Who’s August?” I comprehend my mistake as soon as Maple grins.

  “The genie who’s going to own you soon.” Her grin enlarges when I gulp.

  “He’s my father,” Maxton says, measuring my reaction thoroughly.

  Maple smacks her palm upside his head and hisses, “Stop telling her things. All she needs to know is that she’ll belong to a genie soon and that she’ll have to obey him.”

  The muscles in Maxton’s jaw spasm. “Please don’t hit me.”

  She smacks him again, harder this time. “I can do whatever I want to you. Anyone can.” When she slaps him yet again, I cringe. “And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” She hits him again and again, and he winces but makes no effort to stop her.

  A strange sensation coils inside my gut. Yeah, Maxton put a spell on me earlier and brought me here to do gods know what, but I think he may have no control over his actions. Him not hitting or yelling at Maple more than proves that. Well, either that or he’s a freakin’ patience guru.

  “Stop hitting him,” I say, shocking all three of us.

  Maple freezes, her hand suspended in mid-air. “Do you seriously feel sorry for him? Him? A Wishing Shadow?” When I don’t answer,
she cackles with laughter. “Oh, my gods. And this is the creature August thinks can save him? How pathetic.”

  Huh? Save him? Save him from what?

  “I’d be careful,” Maxton warns quietly. “She may be naïve, but she’s extremely powerful.”

  Maple’s gaze skims me over, then her lips curl. “I think I’ll be okay.” Then she strikes Maxton in the head again, this time with her gaze fixed on me. “I think she may not like violence, though. That’s odd. Her kind is usually so used to it.” She hits Maxton in the face, and he flinches. “That’s okay. We’ll get her used to it. And we’ll be doing her a favor with where she’s going.” She reaches out and slaps me across the face.

  “Fucking genies,” I growl out as my cheek stings. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Watch it, Maple,” Maxton cautions, his face contorted in pain as he stares at my cheek, which I’m sure has a big, huge, Maple-sized handprint on it—the chick has freakishly large hands. “The orders were to bring her back unharmed.”

  “A little slap on the face isn’t going to hurt her.” Her palm collides with my cheek again.

  Rage pours through my veins, potent, hot, and scorching. My ears ring as my jaw pops. But beneath the pain, a bit of magic flickers. Not a lot, but enough that I can almost taste it.

  “Back off.” Maxton lets out a shaky exhale through his nose, his fists balled. “Up until a couple of hours ago, you weren’t even a part of this. I’m not even sure why August brought you into this. I have it handled.”

  Maple rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Like August actually trusts you. You may be bound to him, but he knows, if there is ever a chance for you to free yourself, you’ll take it. And in the condition he’s in, he can’t risk it.” She whacks Maxton across the head again. “He’s lucky she”—she gives a glance in my direction—“ended up with your brother so I was able to step in and help.”

  “Why wouldn’t she have ended up with Asher?” Maxton glances at me with a bit of spark back in his eyes. “It was Destiny after all, and Destiny always wins.”

  What the hell is Destiny? I want to ask, but Maple hits him again, in the shoulder, and this time, it’s hard enough that I hear a bone crack.

  He cries out in pain, clutching his arm. “Fuck, I think you broke a bone.”

  “Well, if you weren’t so pathetically weak, that wouldn’t have happened,” she snaps, moving to strike him again.

  “Stop!” I shout, my magic stirring to life. “Stop being such a freakin’ bitch.”

  Her blazing eyes zero in on me. “You wouldn’t feel sorry for him if you knew what is going to happen to you when he brings you to August.”

  They keep saying when they bring me to August, as if he can’t come to me. I wonder why.

  “If he brings me to August,” I correct as my magic currents through my veins. “But I have a feeling that’s not going to happen.”

  She plasters on a cocky smirk. “Then you’re even stupider than I thought.”

  “And you hit like a pixie.” I flash her a clever grin and am rewarded when she punches me in the jaw.

  Sure, it hurts like a motherfucker, but her hits ignite anger inside of me, which seems to be powering up my magic.

  “I take that back.” I work to keep my voice even, the pain getting to me. “You hit like a human.”

  That comment makes her snap. She reaches to punch me again, but then she suddenly stops and reels toward Maxton, smacking his broken shoulder repeatedly. He remains crouched on the floor, taking every blow with a wince. He never tries to retaliate. Never says much of anything, and I start to figure out that my original assumption was right. He’s bound to August and can’t do much of anything. That revelation causes a storm to brew inside of me, lightning bolts of energy channeling through my body, and the room around me quivers like thunder.

  “What’s happening?” Maple asks, lowering her hands to the side as she glances around in puzzlement.

  Maxton’s gaze glides toward me, a delighted shock glinting in his eyes. “I think our little qui furabatur is more powerful than my father anticipated.”

  Qui furabatur.

  Qui furabatur.

  Hold on to that word, Harlynn.

  “Well, she needs to stop it.” Her gaze cuts to me, and then she grabs a fistful of my hair. “Stop that.” When the room continues to quake, she yanks on my hair so hard my eyes water. “Stop that now, or you’ll be punished.”

  “No.” My voice comes out louder this time, which means I’m regaining control over myself once again.

  Taking a deep inhale, I open my mouth and belt out the loudest scream I can. Unfortunately, magic pours out, too, and mixes with the scream, causing smoke, mist, and glitter to launch across the room and shatter the walls and floor.

  My eyes widen as the chains around my arms and legs evaporate into dust, and the floor splinters apart and opens up.

  Maple screams as she tumbles into the hole, and then I gasp as I start to fall in after her, but Maxton snags ahold of my hand and jerks me to the side.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, even though he probably did it so he can bring me to his father.

  That is so not happening.

  Pushing to my feet, I skitter around the seemingly bottomless hole in the floor, ready to bolt, but I slam to a stop when I catch sight of the backstage area.

  Columns are tipped over and crumbled; the curtains are gone, lost in the howling wind probably; the roof is partially collapsed; and the staffing members are fleeing toward the streets with the fans, who are crying out in fear. And onstage, where Asher, East, and Arrow were sitting, it is now abandoned and cracked in half.

  “They left me?” I whisper, that twinge in my heart rising again. Or did they? I twist back around toward Maxton then instantly stumble back at his nearness. “Did you make me invisible again?” I demand, regaining my footing.

  He rolls his eyes, inching toward me. “Like I could. You just sucked almost all my power.”

  I match his move and step back, my feet bumping into a tipped over column. “I did not.”

  “You did.” The tail of his cloak swishes across the floor as he slowly moves toward me, his eyes dull and shadowed over. “It’s only temporary, though, so you’d better run.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No, it’s a warning.”

  “Oh.” I hesitate, unsure what to make of him.

  He frowns. “Harlynn … You need to run …” His eyes widen as the embers awaken. “Now.”

  Since my power has gone silent again, I don’t wait for him to tell me twice. I spin around and run across the stage and toward the street. But as I arrive, I find a giant crack in the floor is blocking my path.

  I screech to a halt. It’s too wide to jump across and stretches as far as my eyes can see. The stairs that lead off stage have buckled, leaving about a three-story drop to the ground below.

  “Shit.” I whirl around, then stumble back as Maxton rushes at me, his eyes possessed by the embers.

  Sidestepping him, I rush down the side of the crack in the floor, jump over a tipped over column, and swing around a large piece of ceiling.

  “How long is this fucking crack?” I mumble as I search for the end. “Come on—”

  Fingers brush my back, but I don’t peer over my shoulder to see how close he is. Instead, I increase my pace.

  As I round a column that has managed to stay up, I slam into a solid object with so much force that I nearly fall back on my ass. I doubtlessly would’ve, but arms are then encompassing my waist and pulling me forward again.

  Blinking, I peer up and realize that the solid object I ran into is actually East.

  “Are you okay?” he asks with unfamiliar worry.

  I bob my head up and down. “But Asher’s brother is right behind me. He’s the Wishing Shadow that casted a spell on me earlier today, and he’s here now because he wants to take me to Asher’s father.”

  “Not wants to. Has to.” Maxton’s emotionless vo
ice sails from over my shoulder.

  Tension ripples through East as he swings me around and positions himself in front of me.

  “Max,” East says calmly with his hands positioned at his sides. “Come on; you know you don’t want to do this.”

  “Even if that were true, you know I have no control over this,” Maxton bites out, winding around debris as he stalks toward us. “I have to take her to him.”

  “And why can’t he come get her himself?” East wonders, pressed protectively against me.

  “You know I can’t tell you that,” Maxton responds. “Now move out of my way before I have to make you.”

  “I can’t do that,” East says in a disheartened tone. “You know I can’t let you take her.”

  “Then we’ll have to fight,” Max replies, his voice mirroring East’s.

  “I know.” East releases a loud breath. “I’m so sorry, Max. I really am.”

  I peer over East’s shoulder just as Maxton takes a step toward us, rubble crunching underneath his boots.

  “Me, too.” Remorse overflows his eyes.

  This might just be the most depressing conversation I’ve ever witnessed.

  “Sweetheart,” East calls from over his shoulder. “I need you run. Head back to the vehicle and wait for Arrow and Asher.”

  “I’m not just going to leave you here by yourself,” I say, shaking my head.

  “I’ll be fine,” he assures me. “You worrying about me is cute, though. I think I’ll add that to my list.”

  What list?

  Before I can ask, he reaches back and gently nudges me backward. “Go.”

  I glance at Maxton, who has a pained look on his face as his hands crackle with electric-blue bolts of magic.

  “No. I’m not leaving you.”

  “Little mouse.” A warning rings in East’s tone. “This isn’t up for argument.”

  I snort a nervous laugh. “It’s cute you actually believe that.” I move to dodge around him, hoping upon hope that my powers will surface again.

  If not, I’m so screwed. But I’m not about to just walk away and let East get fried by Maxton’s magic, and gods know what else, all because August is after me for whatever reason.