Magic Burns

Page 14

 

 

 

that barely moved, if at all. But then came the Age of Man, and men are made of progress. They overdeveloped magic, pushing the pendulum farther and farther to one side until it came crashing down and started swinging back and forth, bringing with it tech waves. And then in turn, technology oversaturated the world, helped once again by pesky Man, and the pendulum swung again, to the side of magic this time. The previous Shift from magic to tech took place somewhere around the start of the Iron Age. The current Shift officially dawned almost thirty years ago. It began with a flare, and with each subsequent flare, more of our world succumbed to magic.

 

Weird shit happened during the flares. The magic surge only lasted two to three days, but those days were killer. For a moment I wished I was still just a merc. I could go home and wait all the craziness out.

 

A woman appeared in the doorway—my petitioner. Slender and elegant in that willowy way of tall and naturally slim people, she wasn’t simply attractive, she was gorgeous: beautifully cut Asian eyes, perfect skin, full mouth, and blue-black hair that spilled over her shoulders in a glossy straight wave. Her dress was black and clingy. Her shoes made my calves ache.

 

And she looked familiar, but for the life of me I couldn’t recall where I had seen her before.

 

“Kate Daniels?”

 

That’s me. “Yes?”

 

“My name is Myong Williams.”

 

We shook hands awkwardly. “Please, sit down.”

 

She sat in the client’s chair and crossed one lean leg over the other in a whisper of fabric.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

She hesitated, unconsciously repositioning her legs to better show them off. “I’ve come to ask you for a favor.”

 

“Of what nature?”

 

“Personal.”

 

She fell silent. We’d reached a standstill.

 

Something clicked in my brain. “I remember where I’ve seen you before. You’re Curran’s…”—lover, mistress, honey-bunny—“significant other.” Dear God, what could the Beast Lord’s concubine possibly want from me?

 

“We’re no longer together,” Myong said.

 

Her problem wasn’t connected to Curran. Good. Great. Fantastic. The more distance that lay between me and the Beast Lord, the better it was for everybody involved. We had worked together during the Red Point Stalker case and almost killed each other.

 

Myong shifted in her chair, adjusted the hem of her dress with a casual swipe of her fingers, and furrowed her meticulously waxed eyebrows. “You and Maximillian…”