I nodded as I set the chalice on the counter, then bent to cuff the guy sprawled at my feet. I wasn’t the only one who liked shiny objects, though these thieves were likely after the magic. Because of the value of the enchanted artifacts in our shop, there was a robbery attempt every few weeks.
After waking in the field ten years ago, we’d scrounged around for a living until we’d figured out how to profit from our skills. And thus Ancient Magic had been born. We found treasure imbued with ancient magic and sold it.
Ancient Magic was located on Factory Row in Magic’s Bend, Oregon, but it was no Fifth Avenue. We provided our own security.
Magic’s Bend was one of three all-magic cites in America that humans had no idea existed thanks to some powerful spells. Supernaturals lived in human cities as well, but this was one of the few places we could be ourselves. It made it the perfect place to set up a shop selling ancient magic.
While I was out hunting down enchanted artifacts, Nix manned the home front. It should have been an easy job—chat with customers, sell the goods, drink coffee from Potions & Pastilles next door. But of the three of us, she was the best at kicking ass and taking names, among other things. So she protected what I hunted. In addition to being Seeker, Del was a demon hunter the rest of the time, something that endeared us to the Order of the Magica, the government that ruled the Magica, and kept our shop on the good side of magical law. She was on a job right now, somewhere in South America.
I nudged the unconscious thief with my foot, then rolled him over so I could get at his back. It took some tugging, but I got his hands bound before I looked up to see Nix hanging up the phone.
She lowered the phone and glanced up. “Cops’ll be here in a minute. Dispatch said there’s a cruiser right around the corner.”
“Good. Then we can grab something to eat. I’m starving.” We’d had so many breakins that Nix had become friends with most of the force.
It took only three minutes for the shiny police vehicle to pull up in front of the shop. Officers Cooper and Dale climbed out. It didn’t take long for them to collect the thieves off our floor, or for Nix to give her statement. She was well versed by now.
Within ten minutes, they pulled away from the curb, criminals in tow.
“Glad that’s over.” Nix walked behind the counter and leaned on the wood, her brown gaze avid on the chalice. “So this is it? The Chalice of Youth?”
“The one and only.”
Actually, that wasn’t true. There were probably more, but this was the one that suited our client the best. According to Mr. Sampson, a weather witch who’d commissioned me to find a youth charm for him, it would keep the drinker looking ever young and beautiful. They’d still age—all the magic and the mages in the world hadn’t figured out the secret of immortality—but they’d look good doing it. Mr. S planned to be the hottest weather witch on TV. Weather witches weren’t usually meteorologists, but Mr. S liked being a semi-famous local celebrity.
Most of my jobs were on spec—Del found record of enchanted artifacts that possessed valuable magic, and I went to find them. But some jobs were on commission, and the chalice was one of them. No matter the job, we stayed away from artifacts from human archaeological sites. They had laws to protect their history—eventually someone would have noticed if I screwed with them. We try not to use magic around the humans, despite the Great Peace.
Besides, their artifacts had no magic, so they were worthless to us. We weren’t in it for artifacts—we were in it for the magic. The problem was that magic could become unstable. After sitting around in an object for too long—anywhere from a few hundred years to a few thousand, depending on the spell—it could cause some serious damage. Like fruit ripening on a tree, eventually it rots. Or in this case, explodes. Our operation was legal because we stuck to magical artifacts that were nearing the end of their life. Otherwise, we’d just be stealing. The Order of the Magica would have a problem with that—and we definitely didn’t want to get on their bad side. And it felt crappy to steal something from an ancient culture that no longer existed.
I leaned on the counter and took a chocolate out of the candy bowl. Nix picked up the chalice and looked at it, squinting at the decorative etching that turned the golden goblet into a work of art.
“This one should be easy,” she said as she set it down.
“You’re going to do it now?” My stomach grumbled.
“Yeah. Only five minutes. It’s a simple one. And the magic has gotten really unstable. Better to do it now. Then we’re done for the night, and it’s off my plate.”
“Fine.” But she was right. We tried not to leave the unstable magic sitting around in the shop. Last thing we needed was a spell going wild in here.