Chasing Steel: Capturing Magic Books 1-3 Page 3

  I know from the records I hacked into, needing to find out more about Asher, that the faerie known as Easton is the bassist of their band and also sings sometimes. I haven’t seen much fey in my time, but I have caught glimpses of what most humans refer to as the creatures of trickery and glittery beauty. The nickname seems fitting for him.

  Tall, with chin-length blond hair, mischievous emerald green eyes, and full, pierced lips, there’s no denying he’s gorgeous. He’s also not wearing a shirt and has his glittery wings spanned out, all sparkling magic and iridescent light. I find myself wanting to touch his wings, trace my fingertips along the edge and see if it sparkles brighter.

  But I also want to keep my fingers, so my hands remain at my sides.

  Easton peers over Asher’s shoulder and out the front window of the vehicle. “Aw, so there is a fire.”

  Asher folds his arms. “You thought I, what, made the story up for fun?”

  Easton shrugs. “You seemed pretty bored earlier. Thought maybe you were in one of your moods and trying to break up the party.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Asher says flatly.

  Easton’s lips quirk. “If you say so.”

  When Asher’s jaw ticks, the faerie’s grin expands. Then he turns to exit the vehicle, but freezes when he spots me.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” His jewel-colored eyes sparkle with mischief and curiosity.

  With what I hope is a disinterested expression, I tap my badge. “I’m just part of the staff.”

  “Staff, huh?” His gaze devours me as he skims me over from head to toe. “You should’ve applied for the aftershow.”

  I roll my tongue in my mouth, willing my lips not to part. Unfortunately, I’ve never been good at keeping my mouth shut.

  “Why? So I can have the privilege of whoring myself out to a bunch of paranormals? Yeah, I think I’m okay with the staffing position. Besides, I’m too low-shelf quality to be part of the aftershow.” I don’t bother glancing in Asher’s direction, but I can feel his fiery gaze burning a hole into the side of my head.

  Easton studies me with his head cocked to the side. “You’re awfully sassy for a human.”

  “Most humans are sassy by nature,” I point out. “They’re just too afraid to show their true character to paranormals.”

  “Is that so?” His eyes glimmer with amusement.

  I fear I might be walking into a trap. A trap I set up for myself when I decided to open my damn mouth and challenge a faerie.

  Time to shut up, Harlynn.

  “Look, I didn’t come here to argue,” I tell them. “I came here because it’s my job to get you guys off the vehicle safely.”

  “Oh, don’t try to back out of this now.” Easton steps toward me. “Keep going. I was enjoying our little banter.”

  From my peripheral vision, I note the flames are still blazing in the trash can. Someone could figure out how to extinguish them at any moment, so I need to get them off this vehicle pronto.

  “I never should’ve done it to begin with. It’s unprofessional.” Any other day, I probably would’ve gone toe-to-toe with the cocky faerie, which is why I’ve spent more than a handful of occasions in the electric cells.

  “No, you definitely should’ve.” He takes another step toward me. “In fact, I think, after they get the fire out, you should come back here so we can pick up where we started.”

  I aim for a bored tone. “No thanks. I’m super busy.”

  He cocks a brow. “With what?”

  “With anything besides coming back here.” I bite down on my tongue hard.

  Shut up, Harlynn, just shut up.

  “What’s your name?” His smile is all trickery and wickedness.

  Shit. The last thing I needed was is to draw more attention to myself. It’ll make me easier to track down after I jack the lamp. “I’d rather not tell you.”

  “Just your first name,” he urges, leaning closer and crowding me.

  “Tell me yours first,” I quip, even though I already know it.

  “Easton. Or, well, most call me East,” he says with a flick of his wrist. “Now you go.”

  I open my mouth, preparing to tell him my mom’s name, when the lampposts enclosing the parking lot illuminate with purple, magical flames.

  “Attention, paranormals. It has been brought to our attention that an everlasting fire is burning in the west parking lot,” a formal, robotic tone echoes through the air. “As a safety precaution, we ask that all paranormals please evacuate their vehicles and proceed to the upper section of the stadium until the fire has been put out. Thank you for your patience.” The voice fades, along with the flames.

  “Come on; let’s get this over with.” Asher signals for East to get a move on.

  With a sigh, East seizes my wrist and tows me with him into the mob of staff and paranormals making their way toward the stadium.

  “Hey, what the heck?” I dig my heels into the asphalt

  “You heard what the announcement said.” East’s eyes sparkle like starlight. “Everyone inside.”

  “No, it said all paranormals inside,” I say. “Not staff.”

  “Yeah, so what? I’m not about to let you go. It’s too dangerous.” His eyes glimmer for the tenth time in the last couple minutes. I still can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

  “I have to work.” I wiggle my wrist, trying to get free of his grip. “If I don’t, then I don’t get paid at the end of the night.”

  He practically drags me with him as he starts walking again. “I’ll pay you three times as much as you were going to make with your staffing position.”

  “I’m not a whore,” I growl out.

  East eyes me over curiously. “I never said you had to be.”

  I glance back at his world jumper vehicle as two leggy blondes, along with Asher and a cyborg, wander outside. “Let me guess. You also told those two pretty blondes the same thing.”

  He shakes his head. “Of course I didn’t. They signed up for the aftershow position.”

  “You’re disgusting,” I say. “You really are.”

  “Why?” he questions. “I didn’t make them sign up for the job.”

  “No, but your rulers did by making every human in this world desperate for money.” The words pour off my tongue and spill into the air before they actually register in my brain.

  Lovely, Harlynn. You’re really on a roll tonight.

  East’s fingers twitch on my wrists, the glow in his eyes dimming. “They’re not my rulers.”

  Huh? Did he just insult Five Smoke Magic? There’s a first.

  Heavy silence hangs in the air as he pushes his way through the mob, towing me along with him.

  “East, why are you dragging a human girl with you?” Arrow, the cyborg and drummer of Ash East Arrow, steps up beside me.

  Like the rest of his bandmates, he’s wearing low slung black pants and no shirt—seriously, it must be their signature look or something—so I get a full view of his body. Half-man, half-machine, his arms, neck, and muscular chest are spun of flesh and bronzed gadgets. His fingers are purely mechanical, and his abdomen is inked with small pieces of steel. But his face is human, all full lips, short black hair, and the most beautiful silver eyes. Many cyborgs roam the city, so I know the drill. They rarely show emotion. Rarely speak. Rarely interact with anyone.

  “Because I’m keeping her for the night,” East replies, hilarity ringing in his tone, his bad mood gone like human civilization itself.

  “No, he’s not.” I jerk my arm, as if that somehow proves a point.

  East just chuckles. “Don’t pretend you don’t like this bantering foreplay.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a whore?” I spat, trying to wrench my arm away from him again.

  East throws me a smirk. “And how many times have I told you, maybe I don’t want sex from you? Perhaps I just want to keep playing our little bantering game all night long.”

  I cock my brow at him. “Are
you being serious right now? Because I genuinely can’t tell.”

  He nods with a wink. “It’s my secret wish.”

  Asher suddenly materializes by East’s side. “Careful throwing around the word wish,” he warns. “My lamp’s too close by. You might accidentally set it off.”

  East rolls his eyes. “Like I’m worried.”

  “I know you’re not, but I am.” Asher stares up at the sky, his muscles tense. “You know how much I hate granting wishes.”

  A genie who hates granting wishes? Huh, never heard that before.

  “I know.” East’s voice is soft, no amusement evident.

  It makes me wonder what the story is behind Asher’s hatred for wish granting. But not enough to ask. No, I need to get the hell away from these guys before we reach the gates.

  Asher’s gaze strays from the sky and lands on East. “So, you’re keeping the girl?”

  “No one’s keeping me,” I huff with exasperation and stomp my foot.

  Asher exchanges a look with East, and then the two of them bust up laughing. Even the emotionless cyborg chuckles.

  “She’s cute, right?” East says to Asher.

  The corners of Asher’s lips twitch as his gaze collides with mine. “Perhaps just a little bit.”

  “No, I’m not.” I flail my free arm around in a pathetic attempt to escape East’s hold. “I’m not cute. I’m just a plain, ordinary human girl who’s way less entertaining than those pretty blondes you had in your vehicle. I mean, think about it. Do you really want me over them?” I raise my brows.

  Asher rubs his lips together while East laughs and Arrow stares at me with his bronzed brows creased.

  “Yep, I’m definitely keeping her,” East announces then releases my wrist and drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him so my arm is wedged against his side.

  His skin is warm and smells of spun sugar and strawberries. I subtly breathe in his scent, almost getting lost in his magical scent. Then he chuckles and the sound jerks me back to reality.

  Big mistake letting my wrist go, asshole.

  Time to escape, go find that damn lamp, and save Jason.

  Lifting my foot, I kick East in the shin. His arm falls from my shoulders as he cries out in pain. If I ever do get caught, this moment will come back to bite me in the ass. But that’s a future worry. Right now, I’m only concerned about the present.

  I push my way into the throng of paranormals and run away from the band. I don’t look back. Don’t want to see if they chase me.

  I just focus on the forward.

  On getting that damn lamp.

  Chapter 3

  Ten minutes and at least fifty panting breaths later, I’m sneaking up to the door to Ash East Arrow’s world jumping vehicle. I check the handle but, no surprise, it’s locked. Fishing around in the pocket of my jacket, I dig out my lock pick and unpick the lock. When I try the door handle again, the damn thing still won’t open.

  Hmmm …

  I trace my fingers around the edge of the doorframe and note a layer of silvery dust.

  Fey magic.

  “Shit. East must have sealed the door with magic.”

  A quick check around the area lets me know the everlasting fire is still blazing brightly and the parking lot is now fairly cleared out.

  Inching closer to the door and deeper into the shadows, I dig a can of fey magic repellent from my pocket. One spray of this and the door should unlock. The problem is, the repellent only lasts for about five minutes before the fey magic resurfaces. Since there’s only enough repellent in the can for one use, if I’m not off the world jumper vehicle by then, I’ll be locked in.

  But I really don’t have another choice.

  I’ll have to move fast.

  I give the bottle a few quick shakes then tap my finger against the top of the can. A pungent mist spritzes from the nozzle and sprays all over the front of the door, causing the silvery dust to evaporate. I check the door handle again …

  “Jackpot,” I whisper as the door opens.

  I step onto the world jumper vehicle and close the door behind me.

  The area inside is far bigger than what the size of the vehicle should hold, more than likely due to magic. To my right is a large sitting room, fully stocked with leather sofas, a fireplace, a hologram television, and an array of guitars, speakers, microphones, and a drum set. To my left is an open kitchen with the biggest fridge I’ve ever seen, shiny marble flooring, and glass countertops filled with mini water fey.

  “Crap, I hope they can’t see me.” I squint down at the sparkling miniature water fey and cringe when a glowing pink one makes eye contact with me.

  It tsks me with its tiny finger before swimming deeper into the counter, urging the rest of the miniature water fey to come over. Once they’re all gathered in a circle, they huddle together.

  I don’t know much about mini water fey, but I have a feeling they’re plotting against me right now.

  Time to wrap this plan up.

  The information Lead gave me about Asher stated that the lamp will probably be hidden in his room in a magically sealed trunk. I cross the living room and head down a wide hallway lined with lanterns and shut doors. Unsure of where to start, I open the first door on my right.

  Inside, everything is made of bronzed metals and gadgets, all the way from the orbed chandelier to the gleaming metal floor. If I had to guess, I’d bet the room belongs to the cyborg.

  Shutting the door, I move on to the next room. It’s also a bedroom, with black hardwood floors, a massive king-sized bed, and winding metal trim covering the ceiling. My first guess is that the room belongs to Asher, but a shimmering coat of fey magic covers almost every piece of furniture and the walls.

  No, this has to be East’s room.

  I back out of the room and open the next shut door. Behind it is the biggest bathroom I’ve ever seen, with a bathtub large enough to fit ten people.

  I grit my teeth. Here, the world is filled with starving, poverty-stricken humans, and these asshole’s world jumper vehicle is better than most human’s homes.

  Suddenly, the idea of stealing the lamp seems way more appealing. I can almost picture Asher fuming when he discovers it gone.

  I hurry onward and throw the next door open.

  “Yep, this has to be his room,” I mutter as I inch inside the largest room I’ve stumbled across yet.

  The area is spacious, the ceiling domed and painted with a white, black, and grey skull mural. The walls are dark grey and nearly mesh with the black hardwood floor. The bed is lavish and covered with a velvet comforter. Perched in front of the bed is a steel trunk engraved with obsidian.

  I resist a happy dance, knowing I still have to get the trunk open, and cross the room to the foot of the bed. I kneel in front of the trunk and examine it. The lock on the front appears to open with a key, but I doubt it’s going to be that simple. I give it a go anyway, trying to pick the lock. No luck.

  Setting my trusty lock pick aside, I search the trunk’s sealing for traces of fey magic. The outside is squeaky clean. I can’t spot any other locks anywhere. No magical inscriptions. No scanning pad. Nothing other than the damn key lock.

  I sit back and rub my hand across my face. “How the hell are you sealed?” My gaze travels to the bottom of the trunk. “Hmm …” I grip the sides and, with a grunt, tip the trunk upward to peer underneath. Nothing besides a smooth, flat surface resides.

  “Dammit.” I lose my grip as one of the obsidian jewels cuts my fingertip and the trunk crashes to the floor.

  “How the hell is that thing so sharp?” I mumble as I press the bleeding wound to the front of my jacket.

  I glance at the jewel that split open my skin. The edges are smooth, so how did it cut me? I brush my finger along the jewel—

  “Crap.” I wrench back as a needle snaps out of it, but not fast enough before the needle embeds into my skin.

  Panic sets in as I fumble to dig the needle out, only to realize it
’s attached to a thin tube filled with green, bubbling liquid.

  A green, bubbly liquid now pumping into my fingertip.

  Shit. I know what that liquid is.

  Jinn death poison.

  My pulse soars as I yank the needle out of my finger. The tube ravels back into the jewel as blood pools from my skin. My eyes water as pain pulsates from my now green fingertip.

  Poison. I’ve been poisoned by jinn death poison.

  I’m going to die.

  Right as the thought crosses my mind, the lid of the trunk pops open, as if to say ha, ha, go ahead and take the lamp now. You’re going to die anyway.

  Gods dammit, I really hate genies.

  Chapter 4

  I haven’t felt this shocked since the day the genie made my parents vanish, and that’s saying a lot, considering how many crazy situations I’ve put myself in. I have only a handful of hours before my entire body resembles my finger, before the poison completely fills my veins and begins eating away my body. It’s going to be a painful death, one that’ll hurt like a bitch.

  Tears burn the back of my eyes as reality crashes down on me.

  I’m going to die.

  My life is over.

  Just like my parents.

  And just like my parents, a genie has taken my life.

  Anger, fear, and sadness sweep through me. I almost lose my shit. I want to hurt Asher for doing this to me. I want to scream. Cry. Then I remember I have a friend to save. I’ll be damned if I give up now.

  Sucking back the tears, pain, and rage, I peer into the trunk. Inside is a polished silver lamp, trimmed with the same obsidian jewels that decorate the exterior of the trunk.

  Not bothering to check for more booby traps—it’s not like it matters anymore—I scoop up the lamp and tuck it away in my pocket. Then I shut the lid, stumble to my feet, and check the time on my watch.

  One more minute until the repellent on the door wears off. If I’m not outside by then, I’ll be locked in.

  I rush out of the room and down the hallway, doing my best to disregard the wooziness stirring through my mind. The closer I get to the door, the more my adrenaline courses.