Edge of Magic (Tara Knightley Series Book 1) Read online

  “What’s the right guy look like?”

  “I want stability, which I suppose isn’t much of a surprise after my shit childhood.”

  Rox’s brother had practically raised her. The two of them had been on their own even before her brother was old enough to be her legal guardian or legally rent an apartment. But they’d managed to stay under the radar. From what I gathered, he was the only family member who’d stuck around, but he wasn’t the most reliable person. Rox had worked from the time she was young to help him out, doing odd jobs, babysitting, whatever she could find. She’d learned self-sufficiency early. Something the two of us had in common. Her brother had moved to the East Coast with his girlfriend, and Rox rarely heard from him.

  “But, and this is going to sound like a big ask of the universe,” she continued. “I want someone who’s stable and exciting. Strong and reliable, but also passionate and adventurous.”

  I let out a laugh. “That is quite a request. But if he’s out there, I’m sure you’ll find him.”

  She sighed. “I hope so. What about you? You haven’t dated much lately, either.”

  “No time. And it’s not like I’ve come across anyone worth the effort a relationship would take, on top of everything else I have on my plate.”

  She didn’t say anything, and when I cast her a glance, she was giving me an annoyingly knowing look.

  “No,” I said, my tone flat.

  “What?” she asked innocently.

  “Nothing is going to happen with Judah.”

  “It could.”

  “It won’t.”

  “But it could.”

  “Rox, he’s in the middle of a crisis. He’s not thinking about getting involved with me or anyone else. If he’s even single.”

  “A crisis can bring people together,” she said breezily, examining the peachy-nude polish on her nails. “Just saying.”

  I let out a soft grumble.

  “Be open, Tara. Don’t close yourself off from possibilities.”

  My lips pressed into a hard line. I knew what she was trying to say, and I understood that she wanted good things for me, but my life didn’t have the luxury of possibilities. Not the way she meant it.

  “The last thing I need right now is a boyfriend,” I said as I steered off the main street onto a one-lane dirt road.

  Rox didn’t argue, as she had to hop out to open the cattle gate. She waited for me to drive through and then closed the gate and jumped back in. We breezed past the Private Property and No Trespassing signs posted every twenty feet or so, which seemed like overkill. I’d never met Ella Grey, but from what I’d heard, she preferred privacy. She’d mostly secluded herself away from the public eye since the Cataclysm, spending a lot of her time in her cabin in the mountains. Rox usually got to see her at the holidays.

  In any case, I was glad to have access to land where we could freely fling around my toys without worrying about harming anyone or anything.

  “Let’s go a little farther,” Rox said. “There are some stumps up ahead.”

  As I always did when I left the vicinity of home, I mentally cataloged all the Faerie doorways in the region. None were very near. The closest was probably a good thirty minutes away. If Grant Shaw summoned me, it would take me long enough to reach him that he’d be incensed by the time I got there. But I figured since he was trying to exclude me from the big game he had going, he probably preferred to keep me away from Faerie, and the odds of a summons that day were low.

  My energy perked up as I got out of the Rover. The coffee and fresh air were hitting my system, giving me a welcome boost.

  “Let’s throw stuff,” I said, rubbing my hands together and grinning at my best friend.

  Chapter 6

  I TRIED NOT to think of Judah too much while Roxanne and I tossed my knives, darts, and various shurikens. We threw at the stumps Rox had mentioned and at targets I pinned to trees.

  She watched me toss three flat, four-pointed stainless steel discs in quick succession at one of the targets. They landed firmly in the center of the bullseye, the three ninja stars lined up right next to each other.

  “How do you do that?” she asked, not for the first time.

  “A ton of practice,” I said. “When I was first learning, Heloise made me do target practice until my right arm was ready to fall off. Then she’d made me practice with my left. I’m not great on the left side, but she always insisted I train with both in case my dominant arm got injured.”

  Heloise had been one of my first trainers when I’d joined Shaw’s network. He prided himself on getting many of his people trained in specialized skills, and it was probably the best part—maybe the only good part—about my unwitting membership in his organization. He’d decided that due to my relatively small stature and the fact that I spent most of my time on the Earthly side of the hedge, throwing weapons would be an ideal specialty for me. In Faerie, it wasn’t odd to see people walking around with short swords on their belts or broadswords across their backs. But that wouldn’t fly over here. It turned out that my weapons specialty was also well suited to the work I did with Katerina. Most of her people carried guns, but we were forbidden from using lethal forms of self-defense unless there was truly no other option. She preferred we carry tasers over guns. I was a good shot with a handgun, and I had a permit to carry the Sig Sauer I owned, but I only took it with me if I expected a job would be particularly dangerous.

  I’d been pretty bad at throwing when Heloise took me under her wing, but she was the best there was, and she’d taught me well. Most of all, she’d forced me to be relentless about learning my assigned discipline. At times, I’d despised her for how hard she’d pushed me. But it had paid off, and I was almost as good as she was, throw for throw. More than a weapons instructor, I’d gained a mentor in Heloise, and she was a bit of a revelation to my teenage mind. The female authority figures in my life at that point—namely my mother and sister and women like them—were earthy, witchy types, strong in magic and natural at bonding with their witch friends, but with little physicality and sometimes, to put it frankly, lacking in pragmatism. In contrast, Heloise was independent and capable.

  “Okay, your turn,” I said to Rox, passing her a four-pointed star.

  With the tip of her tongue in the corner of her mouth, Rox drew her hand back and then flung her arm forward. Wisps of yellow air magic and green earth magic twisted after the disc as she tried to guide its flight with her power. The star still went wide.

  “Argh,” she muttered in frustration. “Even with magic, I can’t do it.”

  I knelt to reach into the black case lying open on the ground at my feet. It held an array of throwing weapons nestled in molded foam. Selecting a slim knife, I offered it to Rox handle first.

  “Try this,” I said. “Knives are easier.”

  I took another knife for myself and stood.

  “Raise your arm, line up your elbow with your target,” I instructed, demonstrating. “Then flick your wrist for the release and make your thumb point to where you’re aiming.”

  Lining up the toss, I threw the knife. It blurred through the air, end over end, and stuck in the center of the bullseye.

  Roxanne tried. Her knife landed at the very bottom edge of the paper target.

  “I hit it!” she crowed.

  We threw for about an hour and a half and then started gathering the wayward items that had missed their targets. Rox kicked my butt at this part, finding four for every one I managed to locate.

  “Tell me how that works again,” I said, gesturing at the bristling bouquet of darts and knives she was carrying back to the case. “How do you find them so easily?”

  “I’ve always been able to sense who handled an object,” she said. “I just, I don’t know, reach out with my senses and search the ground for anything that has a bit of me or you clinging to it. When I was a kid, I had to actually handle the object to use that skill. But over time I figured out how to do it at a distance.”


  “It’s funny, that’s oddly similar to my talent,” I said. I squatted to tuck some stars into their foam slots. “I could feel magicked objects as far back as I can remember. It was sporadic and I had to be really close to the magical pieces, but with training, I developed the skill. I learned to feel objects that had human magic or Fae magic. Eventually, I learned to also get an idea of the purpose of the items. And my range increased by a lot, too.”

  My improved skills had also been thanks to Shaw and the training he’d set up for me years ago. If I’d known how possessive my developed talents would make him, I might have found a way to refuse the training. That was what I told myself, sometimes. But deep down, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to refuse. Shaw would have found a way to force me.

  Rox stood with her hands on her hips, facing me. “You ever just wish you could turn it off? I mean, it’s like these little voices talking to me all the time. I know how to tune it out, but it can get irritating.”

  I gave her a faint smile. “I know what you mean. But I can ignore it when I have to. It’s like background music when you’re at a restaurant. Always playing, but I’m not necessarily listening.”

  We finished finding all the weapons, I closed and locked the case, and we got into my car and headed back to Boise. After dropping Rox at her place, I aimed toward home, pulling up Ray’s number on my phone on the way.

  “Hey, it’s Tara,” I said when he answered. “Any news for me about Shaw’s big job?”

  “No,” he said. “Actually, I think I’ve been made.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I’m afraid someone’s guessed I was asking around for you.”

  I let out a disappointed breath, slouching in my seat. “Damn. You sure?”

  “Sure enough.”

  It would be bad for both of us if he was right. “It’s not going to get you into trouble, is it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I pulled into my parking spot in the carport at home and killed the engine but didn’t get out.

  “Oh, hey,” I said. “By chance have you heard about a sword called Balisarde?”

  There was a beat of silence on Ray’s end. I gripped the phone a little tighter.

  “I may have,” he said, his voice pitched low. A hint of slyness edged his voice. “What’s it worth to you?”

  “Depends on what you’ve got.”

  He chuckled, and I imagined his dimples deepening. “Aw, c’mon, Tara. Are you really going to try to play hardball with me?”

  “I can’t force you,” I said evenly.

  Ray projected nonchalance most of the time, but I knew him just well enough to know there was a thick layer of shrewdness under his apparently chill demeanor. And I knew it was probably not a good idea to completely let down my guard around him.

  “I know who has it,” he said.

  I stiffened, my eyes widening. “What? I don’t believe you.”

  “Hey, now, honor among Fae,” he said, sounding a little hurt.

  I let out an impatient breath. “Right, I know. You can’t lie to me. Okay,” I said, trying to sound calm while my pulse sped. “What do you want in return for the name?”

  “I want you to help me find something,” he said. “It’s magical. It was in my family for generations, but it disappeared a few years ago.”

  I tilted my head. “Which side of your family—Fae or Earthly?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I guess not. I’ll help you, but we’ve got to put a time limit on the quest.”

  “Fair enough,” he said. “Two weeks.”

  “What? No! That’s way too long. I can’t take two weeks off.”

  “Ten days,” he offered.

  “Two days,” I countered.

  “A week.”

  “Nope,” I said. “Too long.”

  “That’s my best and final.”

  I grumbled. “Fine. A week.” Goddess, what was I getting myself into? I couldn’t afford a week off work. Maybe I could trade shifts with another mercenary retriever and try to cobble together seven days of time off. “But only if I get a name and a satisfactory explanation for how you’re so sure this person has Balisarde.”

  “Deal.”

  “Name?” I demanded.

  “Darren Baumgartner.”

  “And you know he has Balisarde because . . . ?”

  “I saw him with it two nights ago,” Ray said. “He was showing it off in the back of a pub in Faerie.”

  I blinked and then frowned. “How do you know it was the real Balisarde?”

  “He was bragging about it. And then he performed a demonstration when someone called him out. He cut a chunk out of a Spriggan ironwood shield that was hanging on the wall. Nothing can do that. Those shields are magically cured. You can damage them with fire or lightning magic, but nothing will break them.”

  “Well. Damn,” I said. “Okay, then. I appreciate the info. Oh, wait—what pub?”

  “The Aberdeen in the Duergar kingdom,” he said. He sounded distracted. “Sorry, but I’ve gotta go. I’ll get back with you about your payment.”

  I had no doubt he would. “No problem. Talk to you later.”

  We disconnected and I sat in my car, staring down at my phone.

  I had to tell Judah. But that was all I’d do, just give him the info. Then, it was up to him and his partner to sort it out.

  Right. On his own. No help from me. Nope.

  I went inside, up to my room, found his business card, and punched his number into my phone.

  Chapter 7

  JUDAH’S VOICE, A more mature version of the teenage one I’d known so very well, answered.

  “It’s Tara,” I said.

  His silence felt like one of surprise, though I wasn’t sure how I could have known that. I thought I heard the faint sound of conversation and a female laugh from his end.

  “Tara,” he repeated. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

  “I know. Look, I’m going to get right to the point.”

  I told him everything Ray had told me.

  There was a soft whoosh of breath on his end. “We’ve got to go into Faerie and find the guy. Darren Baumgartner.”

  I pulled my head back in surprise. “We?” My voice hardened.

  I’d taken a seat on my bed, scooting back against my pillow. I reached out to tug at a loose threat on my comforter.

  “Please, Tara?” he asked, his voice resonant with sincerity. “Just help me find him, that’s it.”

  I propped my elbow on my knee and let my forehead fall to my hand while I squeezed my eyes closed. Seconds stretched out. The faint sound of Judah breathing came through the line.

  I shouldn’t get involved. I couldn’t afford it.

  My refusal was on the tip of my tongue. It was right there. I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t force the words out.

  “Okay,” I said instead.

  “You have no idea how much this means to me,” he said, his voice warm with relief and elation. “I will find some way to repay you, I promise.”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” I said, feeling a little stunned that I’d agreed.

  “I’ll change my flight so I can stay in town,” he said.

  “Yeah. We’ll need to move quickly. We should go to the Aberdeen and see if we can track the guy down from there.” My voice sounded stilted and far away.

  Why had I said yes?

  “I’m not close to your place right now, but I can leave in a few minutes. Can I come and get you in an hour?”

  “Sure,” I said, wondering where he was and who he was with. Not that it mattered.

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  I hit the end call button, dropped my phone, and covered my face with my hands.

  What the hell was wrong with me? Had I known all along that I would give in? Would I have caved if I hadn’t seen Judah in person that morning—seen the man he’d grown into—and, if I was totally honest, liked what I saw?

  I pulled my
hands down my cheeks.

  I shouldn’t have agreed. I didn’t have time. And once I’d helped him, he’d just leave. But he’d feel obligated, so he’d probably call me up next time he was in town. It’d be awkward. We wouldn’t talk anymore, and that would be that. We’d be replaying an echo of what’d happened ten years ago.

  “And I’ll just have to get over it again,” I muttered to myself.

  I pushed off the bed and went down the hallway toward the bathroom.

  Nolan appeared in the doorway of his bedroom. “You okay, Aunt Tara?”

  I shrugged. “I think I just did something I’m going to regret.”

  “What?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

  “I agreed to help an old friend.”

  He cocked his head. “That was nice of you.”

  I patted his shoulder and disappeared into the bathroom, where I turned on the hot water.

  Nolan was wrong. It wasn’t nice of me. It was weak. And if my decision to help Judah put my ability to take care of my family in jeopardy, I’d never forgive myself for agreeing to do it.

  While the hot water was running over me, I realized I should have asked Ray Artois for more details about Darren Baumgartner. Mouthful of a name. I’d never heard of him, and I didn’t even know if he was full Fae, what he looked like, or anything else. Stupid of me.

  Out of the shower and with a towel wrapped around my body like a tube dress, I texted Ray. While I waited for his reply, I smeared body lotion over my freshly shaved legs. Looking down, I frowned, my hands going still.

  Why had I shaved? I had no idea. I’d done it on autopilot. I rarely wore shorts or skirts, and seeing as how the spring weather was still cool, there was little possibility of going around with bare legs. I straightened, realizing the last time I shaved had been before a date. That was, what, three months ago? Nope, longer, because it was before Christmas.

  I impatiently finished my preparations, smoothing the tinted lotion on my face that toned down the goldish cast of my skin—a quirk of my Fae blood—and pulling my hair up into a bun on the crown of my head. A bit of mascara was the only makeup I normally wore day-to-day, and I resisted adding anything else. This wasn’t a date with Judah. It couldn’t be further from a date.