Shadow Magic, page 1
SHADOW MAGIC
MAGIC HAPPENS
BOOK 1
YASMINE GALENORN
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published by Yasmine Galenorn
PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037
SHADOW MAGIC
A Magic Happens Novel
Copyright © 2022 by Yasmine Galenorn
First Electronic Printing: 2022 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
First Print Edition: 2022 Nightqueen Enterprises
Cover Art & Design: Ravven
Art Copyright: Yasmine Galenorn
Editor: Elizabeth Flynn
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published in the United States of America
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
Welcome to Shadow Magic
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Playlist
Biography
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Welcome to the Magic Happens world—the world of Marquette Sanders.
Thanks to my usual crew: Samwise, my husband, Andria and Jennifer—without their help, I’d be swamped. To the women who have helped me find my way in indie, you’re all great, and thank you to everyone. To my wonderful cover artist, Ravven, for the beautiful work she’s done and my editor, Elizabeth Flynn, who’s always ready to jump in and curb my love of ellipses, and Jade, who has an eagle eye.
Also, my love to my furbles, who keep me happy. My heart is over the rainbow with my Rainbow Girls, and here in the present with our current babies. My most reverent devotion to Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid, my spiritual guardians and guides. My love and reverence to Herne, and Cernunnos, and to the Fae, who still rule the wild places of this world. And a nod to the Wild Hunt, which runs deep in my magick, as well as in my fiction.
You can find me through my website at Galenorn.com and be sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep updated on all my latest releases and to access the VIP section of my website, which has all sorts of perks on it! You can find my advice on writing, discussions about the books, and general ramblings on my YouTube Channel and my blog. If you liked this book, I’d be grateful if you’d leave a review—it helps more than you can think.
Brightest Blessings,
~The Painted Panther~
~Yasmine Galenorn~
WELCOME TO SHADOW MAGIC
I’m Marquette Sanders, and I used to be one of the top agents for the Crown Magika. But an unexpected accident sidelines me and my world turns upside down. Now, I’m living in the shadow town of Terameth Lake, Washington, where magic and mayhem rule, and spirits from the past are as powerful as the volcano that looms over the town.
I’ve moved in with Granny Ledbetter, my goddess-mother and the oldest witch in town. I’m working at her shop, Shadow Magic, which serves the witchblood community. When a tarot client turns up dead, drained of all her blood, she’s just one in a string of killings. The police think a rogue vampire’s turned serial killer, but I know better—rogue vampires are my specialty and they don’t act like that. Dagda Bruin—the chief of police—enlists my help. Now we must find out who and what the actual killer is, before the body count skyrockets.
Reading Order for the Magic Happens Series:
Book 1: Shadow Magic
Book 2: Charmed to Death
CHAPTER ONE
April…
Just when you think everything’s all dandy, life can throw you a major curve.
When I limped into my boss’s office on a bright, sunny Monday morning, I didn’t expect to be forced to walk away from the life I’d known for thirty years. But sometimes fate doesn’t follow the path you want it to.
When Royal called me into his office, I wasn’t sure what I was in for. I’d never been injured on the job before. But I expected a commendation, at least, to add to the drawer full of awards I’d accumulated during my work with the Crown Magika. Granted, Driscoll had evaded me, but I’d come damned close to catching him and I knew that next time, there would be no question: I’d either bring him in, or stake him dead. Permanently.
But as I entered his office and saw Royal sitting behind that giant walnut desk that he’d bought to soothe his Maserati midlife crisis, he looked up from a thick file, his face a blank stare. Usually, I could read him clear and loud, but this time, his expression was impassive, and he closed the file folder and leaned back, motioning toward the chair across from his desk. The vibe of the room definitely didn’t read “Congratulations” and I instantly knew something was wrong.
“What’s up?” I said, easing into the chair opposite his desk. The walking cast on my leg would come off in a few days, and I was antsy, already champing for a new assignment. I didn’t enjoy downtime, and although I knew I needed physical therapy, I expected to be back on the job ASAP. Type A to the max, I put Bill Gates to shame.
He let out a long sigh. “Marquette, we need to discuss something.” The fact that he used my full name instead of my nickname told me that the “something” wasn’t going to be pleasant.
I leaned forward, wondering what was going on. “I repeat, what’s up?” I didn’t like Royal, but I did respect him. He was good at his job, and he had always been fair to me. Royal was a royal pain in the ass, but he was also a good supervisor. We had a love–hate relationship, purely platonic.
“You really got knocked for a loop, didn’t you? You were after Driscoll, correct?”
Driscoll was a vampire who worked for the Blood Collective. I’d been chasing him across the desert on my Suzuki GSX, roaring along at over a hundred and fifty miles an hour. Driscoll had been driving a Corvette, edging it up a few miles per hour more than I was going. But then he swerved abruptly, taking a sharp left turn. When I followed, the bike had shot out from under me, catching my boot heel, and I’d been dragged along the desert floor. Driscoll had escaped. I’d ended up lucky to be alive.
“Yeah, but I’m healing up. I broke my leg in several places, bruised a few ribs, and I look like I got beat to a pulp, but I’m all right.” I tried to make a joke out of it, but he wasn’t laughing.
“We talked to the doctor and physical therapist.” He paused, catching my gaze. “Marquette, you’re not ever going to fully heal. The therapist says she’s told you that. You’re going to have a limp and your knee will always chance going out from under you.” His eyes burned a hole in me.
A shiver of fear raced down my spine. “I’m going to be all right. I’ll be able to do my job, Royal.” I wasn’t laughing anymore. I could see it in his eyes—he was about to confirm the secret fear I’d been harboring for the past month. “You can’t bench me. I’ve been one of your top agents for thirty years—”
“Yes, you have. But now, either we give you a desk job, or…” He trailed off, waiting.
I caught my breath. “No! I can’t take a desk job. I’ve worked my ass off for the Crown Magika. I’ve got a success rate of 85 percent. You show me one agent who’s better at their job than I am!”
Royal ducked his head. “I’m not disagreeing with any of that. We’re going to miss you. We are, Quetta. But the fact is, you can’t go out in the field any longer. Not only would you be in danger, but your cases would be compromised.” Royal was the only one who ever called me Quetta.
Crap. He’d talked to them already. “My therapist could be wrong—”
“You know she isn’t. Maybe you won’t end up with a limp. Maybe you’ll heal up completely.” His voice dropped. “Marquette, you have to face facts. Your leg was shattered so badly that it will never be good as new, even with all the healing spells in the world. Your days as an investigative agent are over.”
“No!” I didn’t want to hear it.
“This happens. I’m sorry, but it happens. We can switch you to a desk job. We could start you right away on that.”
“I’ve been hunting down the baddies for thirty-one years. I joined the Crown Magika when I was barely twenty-one. I’ve worked my way up the ranks, covered in blood, guts, and sweat. I’m one of your best operatives, and I’m the first one you go to when it comes to cases involving the Blood Collective and the Covenant of Chaos. And now, because of one bad moment—one misstep—you’re trying to tell me it’s all over?” Breathing heavily, I tried to control my temper. I could feel tears in the back of my eyes, but in front of them was a red cloud of fury. I tried to imagine myself working a desk job, watching the pity on the faces of the other agents.
“I can’t do that.” I shook my head. “What if I say no?”
Royal let me rant and flail. After I fell silent, he waited for a moment, then calmly said, “We’ll provide you with a generous severance
The Queen. If she was involved, all hope was up. I leaned back in my chair. My life stretched out before me in a bleak line. “Crap, crap, crap. Royal…do you think she’d change her mind on this? If you talked to her for me—”
Royal held my gaze, his expression softening. “I’m sorry, Quetta. I have my orders. We can’t risk you choking at the last minute. You’ve been through a traumatic accident and the doc says that he’s detected some PTSD—that you won’t acknowledge.”
I turned my face away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then he’s right. You could choke and that could endanger anybody else you might be working with.”
I let out a long breath and turned to face him. Everything seemed muted and slowed down, like I was living in slow motion. “It’s over, then. I’m done.”
“Are you sure you won’t take the desk job? We’ll keep you at your current pay grade.”
If I had to leave the job I loved, I would leave for good. I couldn’t face watching my colleagues head out on cases I knew I could do better on. I couldn’t face the pity in their eyes, and the schadenfreude from others.
“No, maybe it’s time to try something new.”
“Well, you’ll have the severance package and your pension. You’ve been here thirty-one years. It might be time for you to relax. Try your hand at something else.”
I knew he was trying to let me down gently—to help me see the brighter side. But right now, I wanted to tell him that he’d nailed the final nail in my coffin. “Yeah. Gardening, maybe? You think I’d make a good gardener?” I couldn’t resist the little barb. I couldn’t keep a plant alive to save my soul. I didn’t jive with the earth element. My magic was based in fire and ice—the extremes merging to make the magic stronger than ever.
Royal leaned forward. “Quette, you’re wrong if you think I want you gone. You’re the best agent we have and you’ve been willing to take chances nobody else has the nerve to face. The Crown Magika has so much to thank you for. But you have to understand how you can’t serve as an agent in your condition. We aren’t conspiring against you.”
I paused, then gave him a hopeless shrug. “Whatever. It is what it is, and I have to accept that my life has forever changed. But it breaks my heart.” My voice choked as the tears I’d tried to keep at bay welled up like a hurricane in my throat.
Then Royal did something he’d never done. He walked around his desk to sit by my side in the chair next to me and took my hands. “Marquette Sanders, you and I have butted heads ever since the first day I took this job. We’ve fought and said things to each other that were probably better off left unsaid. But the fact is…I genuinely respect you. You’re the best agent I’ve ever worked with. And I’ll never take that away from you.”
I caught my breath as the tears rolled down my face. “Damn it, you giant prick. I wanted to walk away hating you—blaming you for this. But you go and be nice to me? Fuck it. Truth is, you’ve been fair to me, Royal, even if we were at each other’s throats.” I swallowed, hard, accepting the tissue he offered me. After blowing my nose, I asked, “So what did Queen Heliesa say?”
The Queen of Witches lived on an island off the coast of Shrove, Ireland, that was called Easa Cailleach. I’d met Heliesa a couple of times when the Crown Magika had awarded me medals for service, but I’d never had a chance to talk to her personally.
“She sends her best wishes, and her thanks.” Royal forced a smile. “She knows how valuable you’ve been to the Crown. But she was quite clear: you have to retire from active duty.”
“A suggestion’s as good as an order when it comes from a queen,” I murmured.
And so my fate was sealed. After thirty years in service to the Crown Magika, I was out of a job, and out of a way of life.
“How long do I have until I have to move?” I asked.
The Order of the Moon—the paramilitary branch of the Court Magika—and by extension, the Crown Magika—provided quarters for all of its agents. Now I had to walk away from my job, but also the place I’d lived for years, and everything associated with it.
“The healer said you’ll be on your feet by mid-June. Given what happened, you don’t have to be out of your current quarters until July 1.” He met my gaze, regret in his eyes. For Royal, that might as well mean he was weeping. “We’re also providing you with a relocation bonus.”
“I guess that’s it,” I said. Everything had taken on a surreal tinge and I couldn’t decide if I was living in a bad dream or if this really was reality.
“Best of luck. It was good working with you.” He held out his hand.
I stared at his extended hand for a moment, then slowly reached out and clasped his fingers. His shake was firm and dry, and he slowly brought my hand up to brush its top with his lips. The moment he kissed my hand, I felt a long shiver that told me what might have been, but now would never be.
Royal and I locked gazes and his look told me he had felt it too. But all he said as he let go was, “Have a wonderful life, Marquette. You deserve it.”
I steeled myself. As long as we had been talking, it had meant it wasn’t quite real yet. But now, it was time to turn my back and step out into the world again.
“You too, Royal. As for me, I’ll survive. I always do.”
He walked me to the door. “We have a team waiting to debrief you.”
As I headed around his desk, I thought about everything I had done up until now, and all the success I’d had. When I walked through that door, it would all end. I swallowed hard, staring at the knob. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, I took hold of the handle, turned it, and walked away from everything I’d ever known.
September…
I woke to the smell of coffee wafting from downstairs. My stomach rumbling, I forced myself out of bed and into the shower. It was nearly eight, and I had promised Granny that I’d watch the shop today. As I splashed water on my face, I wiped the gunk from my eyes and stared at myself in the mirror.
It was such a lovely way to start the day, all bent out of sorts and exhausted. Three hours of sleep after four hours of sorting out the problems of a distraught client who claimed that I’d sold her a haunted athame—a ritual dagger—had left me tired and grumpy.
How was it that I had been able to go for days on a few hours of sleep when I was running a case, but put me into a situation with a nutter who was convinced that we had sold her a dagger with a ghost attached to it, and I could barely keep awake?
After I’d cleared out the wayward spirit—who was actually her ex-boyfriend’s ghost who was still stalking her—and proved that the ghost hadn’t come from the dagger at all, Felicia had roped me into listening to a long whine about her finances, her bad roommate situation, and the fact that she couldn’t find her favorite brand of chocolate anymore.
By the time I arrived home, I had been feeling all Judge Judy—totally unsympathetic and really wanting to headdesk the table.
Even after the shower, I felt like crap, but today was slated to be busy and I didn’t have time to go back to bed.
I slid on a pair of black jeans, and a form-fitting sweater that stretched over my boobs. Knee-high platform boots and a designer tote bag finished the look—I favored Marc Jacobs and Michael Kors. I also preferred stilettos, but the accident had put an end to those. I had managed to avoid a permanent limp, but I already could tell that my leg was going to give me trouble when I was too tired, or it was too cold.
As I brushed my hair back into a long ponytail and applied my makeup, I was startled when Dominique whispered in my ear.
You look like something washed up on the beach. Flotsam and jetsam.
