Outcast: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Warden of the West Book 1) Page 11

  I exhaled. “You can thank Dani for this. She’s the society belle. I had no idea what was appropriate for a super secret magic auction.”

  “Trust me,” he said. “You look very appropriate.”

  We stood in silence for a moment, closer than was necessary, and blood rushed through my veins, warming my body.

  I cleared my throat in an attempt to regain my composure. “Any words of wisdom?” I asked, smoothing the front of my dress. The fabric was silkier than anything I’d ever worn before. I felt far too glamorous to be hunting down a stolen sword.

  "Try to keep conversations to a minimum," he advised. "If the sword is part of the auction, we’ll know pretty quickly."

  "Will there be a pamphlet or something with all of the items up for bid?" I asked. My knowledge of auctions was limited to television and movies.

  "Not this kind of auction," Gray said. "No paper trails. That's why the auction itself is secret and difficult to score an invite to."

  "How did you manage it then?"

  "The Mappleworth name is still good for a few things," he said darkly.

  I didn't let him off the hook that easily. "I thought the Mappleworth name was associated with a strict moral code. How does that get you into a shady auction?"

  His jaw tightened. "Nobody says no to a Mappleworth."

  I bet no one had ever said no to my father, either, albeit for a different reason.

  "Anyway," he continued, "everyone knows I'm the black sheep in my family. It won't seem out of the realm for me to attend."

  I got the sense that it pained him to be painted with that dark brush. For all his outcast bravado, he was still a proud Mappleworth at heart.

  “Did you ride your motorcycle?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how my long dress would fare.

  He smirked. "These events tend to bring out the eccentrics. If we were to take a car or my motorcycle, we'd stand out like a unicorn in a field of horses."

  "So what does that mean?" Please don't say bicycle.

  He crooked a finger. "Come on and I'll show you."

  We left the building, and I looked around curiously for our mode of transport.

  "This way, Morrow," he said, heading through the gateway. "We need to go to the lake."

  The lake? How on earth could we take a boat? The campus lake didn't extend beyond the school grounds.

  We walked along the pathway until we reached the dock. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't have to do too much walking in these shoes. They pinched my toes and rubbed my heels at the same time. The high price of fashion.

  "Those are some big swans," I said, observing the two white swans gliding across the surface of the water. They were beautiful, yet absurdly big. There had to be magic at work.

  Gray whistled, and the swans headed toward the dock. No, we couldn't possibly…

  "Your chariot awaits, my dear," Gray said. He extended a hand to help me mount the swan’s back.

  "I don't understand," I said. My feet were glued to the dock.

  "What's not to understand?" he asked. "Swans swim and fly. Anton has a reflection pool right out front of the mansion. It's just the kind of entrance they'll expect.”

  "You’re telling me that arriving at the auction on the backs of monster-sized swans is the way to stay under the radar?"

  "You're finally catching on," he replied. He took my hand and I tried to mask that electric current I felt between us. It was probably my proximity to the water and nothing to do with Gray at all.

  “Shockingly, I don’t feel ridiculous,” I said. The feathers were surprisingly soft as I settled onto the swan’s back with my legs tucked to the side. I wrapped my arms around its elegant neck, making sure not to grip too tightly.

  “Off we go.” Gray climbed on the other swan and away we flew. The academy quickly faded from view as we sailed through the air toward our destination.

  How does it feel to be at my level?

  Icarus, what are you doing here? My owl appeared beside me.

  It's my job to look out for you, he replied. Did you think I was going to let you enter the belly of the beast on your own?

  I'm not on my own, I said. Gray is with me. I leaned my head in his direction.

  You cannot trust a vampire, Icarus said sharply. Especially one that walked away from the AMF.

  You don't have to worry about me, Icarus, I said. Robin is as straight-laced as they come and he trusts Gray. I didn’t tell Icarus about Robin’s earlier outburst. No need to worry my familiar.

  Are you sure about that? Icarus asked. Maybe the prefect was just trying to save his own skin. You did blackmail him to help you, after all.

  Icarus had a point. Still, Gray hadn’t given me any reason not to trust him. The moment he did, there wouldn’t be a second chance. I couldn’t afford it.

  I have plenty of experience not trusting people, Icarus. I'd like to try the opposite for a change. I’d spent years hiding from my father unnecessarily. Not trusting anyone around me. I didn't want to live like that anymore, not if I didn't have to.

  Very well then, Icarus said. I'll watch over you, as always.

  Okay, but wait outside of the mansion. No matter how eccentric the guests are, I think it's safer for you to wait on the grounds.

  It will give me a chance to hunt somewhere new, Icarus said. I have no doubt the collector attracts interesting creatures.

  I didn't want to know what kind of interesting creatures my familiar was interested in hunting. Some things were better left unsaid.

  Finally, the swans began their descent. I buried my fingers in the feathers, wary of the landing. The mansion loomed in the distance, and the grounds were as sprawling as I expected.

  "Reflection pool at two o'clock," Gray said.

  Even in the darkness, I could see the glistening water below. The magic in me responded at the sight, rising up in the hope of being released.

  The closer we came, the more I could see. Unicorn-drawn carriages, and flying carpets. Men with horns and tails and women with colorful plumes in their hair.

  The swans landed on the surface of the water with expert precision. They coasted until they reached land’s end. Incredibly, a servant was there to greet us. He seemed to anticipate that some guests would arrive via the reflection pool. Gray was right--arriving by car would have been a dead giveaway.

  "Welcome to Harrington House," the servant said. “Rest assured, your swans will be kept well during your stay."

  I stroked my swan’s neck before dismounting. "Thank you. They’re very special to us. We'd be horribly upset if anything were to happen to them." I made a show of scanning the other modes of transport. "I spot a few wolves here this evening. Please be sure to keep them well away from Odette and Odell."

  Gray made a slight choking noise.

  "Not to worry, miss. We have systems in place for such situations."

  I gave him a brisk nod and continued toward the house. Gray quickly fell into step beside me.

  "Not bad, Morrow," he said. "Not bad at all."

  "When you move around as much as I have, you learn how to blend in quickly," I said. “Like you, I've spent a good part of my life lurking in the shadows."

  He shot me a quizzical look. "Why would you do that? I thought you had nothing to do with the crimes at Spellslingers.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” I said. I didn’t want to reveal too much about myself. At the same time, I felt like Gray deserved more information about me. After all, he was putting himself on the line to help me.

  “I was raised in the human world,” I said. “In Terrene. I knew I had magic, and that it wasn’t normal.” That much was true. No need to mention my father.

  “And you only just found your way here?” he asked, somewhat shocked. When I nodded, Gray blew a low whistle. "I'm surprised you managed there for as long as you did. Between your raw power and your…" He cut himself off abruptly.

  My brow creased. "My what?"

  "Nothing," he said quickly, adjusting
his cuff links. “Swap your resting witch face for a game face, Morrow. We’re here."

  The facade of Harrington House was supported by four Ionic columns. The steps lined the length of the house, although a blood red carpet encouraged guests to enter in an orderly fashion. Two female fairies flanked the main door, serving as bouncers. They weren’t of the Hans and Fritz variety—these two could have graced the cover of any magazine in the human world.

  “Why fairies?" I whispered. Their beauty seemed to be the only intimidating thing about them.

  "Anton is a vampire," Gray replied softly. "We tend to prefer beauty over brawn. Besides, don't let the glitter fool you. You should never underestimate the power of a fairy. They can be every bit as lethal as your kind.”

  I craned my neck for a better look at the fairies. With long, flowing hair and porcelain skin, they were incredibly attractive. Deadly attractive, apparently.

  Finally, it was our turn.

  “Mappleworth plus one,” Gray said.

  The fairy tilted her head, listening intently. She held no list, so she was getting her information from another source. I held my breath, awaiting the rejection. After an extended pause, she ushered us inside. I tried to hide my relief.

  “You're going to have to calm that heartbeat of yours if you expect to get through this evening unscathed," Gray said.

  My pulse quickened. "You can hear my heartbeat?"

  "Of course, I can," he said. "I'm a vampire, remember? It's encoded in our DNA.”

  Naturally. A healthy heartbeat indicated blood flow.

  “Don't look so concerned," he said. "I have no plans to feed on you." He hesitated. "I can't say the same for other vampires, though. Try to keep your fear under wraps, especially in this crowd.”

  Gray's words hardly put me at ease. I made a conscious effort to focus on our surroundings. Everywhere I looked, I saw paintings and sculptures. There was even a fountain with statues of water nymphs in the foyer. Harrington House was more like a museum than a home.

  I stiffened as a large woman powered toward us. Her skin had a slight green tint to it, and her arms were like giant sausages. Her dress was so tight that her top half was in danger of spilling out of it. The only thing that kept me from running in the opposite direction was the wide smile she wore.

  “Graydon Mappleworth, you sly son of a devil. It’s been so many moons since I’ve seen you.”

  Gray flinched. "Martha, what an unexpected surprise. How are you? Is Jeffrey here?"

  "I'm afraid not," she replied. "He's visiting his mother in Sparkle City. She refuses to leave the gambling tables this time of year, not that I’m complaining. Saves me from hosting her.”

  "What brings you to this event?" he asked. "On the lookout for anything in particular?"

  She nudged his arm. "I was going to ask you the same question, you sly creature."

  "I'm always interested in specialty items," he said, purposefully vague.

  Martha’s gaze flickered to me. “Yes, I can see that. And how are your dear parents?”

  “Still undead," he said.

  The woman howled with laughter. “Oh, Graydon. You always did have a wicked sense of humor.”

  “And you’re a wicked one for appreciating it,” he replied smoothly.

  The sound of a horn rumbled, and guests began filing into an adjacent room. The woman seemed eager to make her way to the auction. "It was lovely to see you again. Please give my regards to your parents."

  "I will," Gray said. "Try not to outbid me in there. My funds are limited."

  "That's what happens when you disappoint your parents," Martha called over her shoulder. "You lose your allowance."

  Gray's cheek pulsed. I could tell that her words had upset him, but it didn't seem like the right time to pry.

  "What is she?" I asked.

  “An ogre," he said. “Her husband, Jeffrey, used to feed my father information. Jeffrey had been part of a large mining coalition years ago.”

  “Are we going inside, or are we going to snoop?" I asked.

  He looped his arm through mine. "We'll do both. First, we need to sit through the auction and see whether the sword makes an appearance. You've never been to an auction, have you?"

  "No, I'm an auction virgin." Color rushed to my cheeks. Why did I use that word?

  Gray patted my arm. "We'll change that right now.”

  He seemed oblivious to my discomfort. Small mercies.

  The room was heaving with eager guests. Everyone was interested to see which items would be up for bid tonight. According to Gray, the selection would be minimal. It was one way Anton insured a high level of interest in the event. He tended to keep his auctions few and far between, with one-of-a-kind items only.

  We found two seats near the back, and I struggled to see over the variety of wings and horns. Why were paranormals so tall? Where were the dwarfs?

  A shapely woman wearing a black Anubis mask approached the podium to start the auction.

  “I take it she’s not Anton Harrington,” I whispered.

  “No, he doesn’t act as the auctioneer,” Gray replied. “He prefers to observe.”

  “First item up for bid is this incredible amulet worn by the Bloodthirsty Contessa,” fake Anubis said. Several guests ooh-ed and ah-ed as the amulet was showcased for the crowd.

  “Who was she?” I asked.

  “Famous vampire,” Gray said. “Left a trail of bodies in her wake.”

  My gut twisted. “Why would anyone want her amulet?”

  Gray shrugged. “That’s what fame does. She’s been gone about fifty years now, but, every so often, someone discovers an item that once belonged to her.”

  I listened as the bidding went higher and higher. The winning bid was made by a tall blond woman with muscular arms.

  “Valkyrie,” Gray whispered.

  “The next item is sure to get those hands in the air,” the auctioneer said. “This collection of healing stones was owned by none other than the infamous Volans Moldark.”

  Everyone gasped, including me.

  “This gorgeous array of powerful stones will heal you as effectively as they once did the Shadow Sorcerer,” the auctioneer continued.

  “That was his nickname?” I asked. Cato hadn’t mentioned that.

  “Among others,” Gray said, his expression dark.

  I stood to get a better view of the stones. Their colors gleamed in the dim light—turquoise, deep purple, and soft pink. Each one called to me. What if they were the healing stones that hastened his recovery in the hospital? That would mean he’d had them in his possession when he met my mother.

  “Can we buy them?” I asked. “We should buy something, right? To look legitimate.”

  Gray looked at me askance. “Do you have any idea how much money those stones will fetch?”

  “Not a clue.” But those stones had a connection to my parents—to me—and I wanted them. Badly.

  “More than either of us has,” he said, his gaze fixed on the proceedings.

  I watched closely as the bidding increased. My insides were screaming for the stones to the point where I began to feel ill.

  “Morrow?” Gray queried.

  “I’d really like those stones,” I said, my voice barely audible. I couldn’t explain why to him. Hell, I could hardly explain it to myself. My mother severed all connection to my father for a reason.

  The bidding ended, and Martha claimed her prize.

  “Why?” I asked in a ragged whisper. “Why would she want them?”

  “Because she can afford them, and they’ll be a good talking piece in her home,” Gray said. “Martha and Jeffrey have more money than they know what to do with.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. Gray noticed, but mistook the reason.

  “It’s not over yet,” he said. “We still might find the sword. If it’s not in the auction, I have a Plan B.”

  I blinked away the tears. “You do?”

  “I always have a Plan B,” Gray said. “Ol
d AMF habits die hard.”

  When the last item came up for bid, we knew the sword wouldn’t make an appearance.

  “Let’s move,” Gray said quietly. He took my hand and guided me away from the auction room. “Act like you’re interested.”

  “Interested in what?” I asked.

  He frowned. “Is it really that hard to imagine?”

  Oh. “No, I just didn’t understand…”

  He leaned me against the wall as two fairies fluttered by. His breath was hot on my neck. “We’re looking for a place to enjoy each other’s company. Got it?”

  My throat went dry. “Got it.”

  He snaked an arm around my waist and steered me through a maze of rooms until we reached a staircase.

  “Down here,” he said.

  “You think the sword might be down here instead of in the auction?”

  “It’s a good possibility.” He stopped in front of an arched doorway. “This way.”

  He pushed open the door and we stepped inside.

  “Wow. What is this place?” I asked. The room was heaving with antiquities and artifacts.

  “Technically, it's his vault,” Gray replied.

  “How did you know it was here?”

  “I trade in information, remember?”

  The space was easily three thousand square feet. “How is this a vault? It’s almost a whole floor.”

  "Anton is a vampire," Gray said. "He’s had plenty of time to amass his collection."

  I crept forward. “Shouldn't it be warded?” If the outside of the property was heavily defended outside of auction hours, I could only imagine what Anton used for his precious vault.

  “I’m sure it is," Gray said. "We just haven't tripped the alarm yet."

  I didn't like his use of the word ‘yet.’ “Do you see a sword that fits the description?"

  Gray shook his head and continued along the perimeter of the room.

  "Why are you searching there when all of the good stuff is in the middle?” I asked.

  "All the collectors I've ever known keep their best items around the perimeter," Gray said. "Especially a newly acquired item. The best place to show it off is on the side, not dumped in the middle next to the hundredth yellow diamond.”

  “In that case, I'll check out the other side of the room." I separated from him, and crossed the room to the far wall. Most of these items seemed like weapons, although I didn't recognize half of them. They were certainly more ornate than any weapon I'd seen in the human world.