Ancient Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Huntress #1)(42)

“What can I do for you?” Mordaca asked.

Carefully, I drew Righty from its sheath and held it out. I’d wrapped the blade in plastic wrap to protect the blood, and it glinted in the low light. “There’s blood on this blade. I want to track whoever it belongs to.”

Mordaca reached out with her black claws and took the blade. She wrinkled her nose as she unwrapped the plastic. “Shifter, Magica, or human?”

“Magica. But I don’t know what kind.”

“All right.” She laid it gently on the wooden table. “I’m going to need to get my sister to help me with this. It will cost more. Wait here one moment.”

She left through a side door, and I glanced at Aidan. “Creepy in here, huh?”

“Not my preferred brand of magic, no,” he said.

Footsteps sounded a moment later. Another woman followed Mordaca into the room. Though she looked like Mordaca, she was pale where her sister was dark. She wore a white robe that covered her to her neck, and she yawned as she took up a spot next to Mordaca.

“I am Aerdeca.” Her voice was sweeter, without the raspy undertones that Mordaca’s voice carried, but it resonated with power all the same. I couldn’t taste her magic like I could with Mordaca, but the sound of chirping birds accompanied her, along with the feeling of a light breeze. She practiced blood magic like her sister, but I couldn’t pinpoint why she felt so different. Like a white witch to Mordaca’s dark witch.

Two sides of a coin?

“Morning,” I said once I realized I’d been feeling out her magic for too long. I needed to not do that. People got weird when you stared at them for so long.

“Yes, early isn’t it?” She looked like she liked mornings as much as I did. She must have kept a schedule that was the opposite of Mordaca’s. This wasn’t her evening—it was her coffee hour, and we were interrupting.

Mordaca looked at me. “I am going to need some things from you to enhance the spell.”

Suspicion loomed. “What kind of things?”

“You really want to find him, right? That desire will help fuel the spell. So a drop of your blood.” She turned to Aidan. “From you as well.”

No surprise. She wasn’t called a Blood Sorceress for nothing.

When she gestured with her claws, I held out my hand. She nicked my finger with a small silver blade, and I let my blood drip into the small bowl she held out. At least she didn’t use her claw. When she let go of my hand, I stuck my cut finger into my mouth.

“Now you.” She held out her hand to Aidan. Once they’d completed the task, she looked back at me. “The addition of something that you value will enhance the spell.”

“That I value? Like what?” But my eyes darted to my blade. That was pretty damned valuable to me.

Her gaze followed mine. “This blade?”

“I value it, but I really don’t want to give it up. It’s part of a pair.”

“That’s the point. The spell might work without it, but sacrifice gives it juice.”

“What about Aidan?” I asked.

“Him as well,” she said.

“I don’t have anything with me that I really value,” he said.

I eyed the fancy watch at his wrist, but for a guy like him, that probably wasn’t anything special.

Mordaca’s gaze searched him, then landed on me. “No. There is only one thing you value in this room, and I don’t think I can put her into the spell. That just leaves the dagger.”

Uh, hello, what? He valued me? I had no idea how to respond to that, so I just said, “Fine.”

I had brought my copper-hilt daggers as backup, but I hated to give up the obsidian. It was my fave.

Mordaca nodded and picked up the glass blade. She held it point down over the bowl, and her hand began to glow. Slowly, the dagger lit from within—a bright purple that burned my eyes. I squinted as the blood on the blade turned black, then dripped off into the bowl. It sizzled, letting off an acrid smoke. The taste of whiskey at the back of my throat grew. I wondered if Aidan got the same sense of Mordaca’s power.

A second later, my obsidian blade turned to liquid as well, dripping into the bowl. My heart ached at the sight. That dagger had kept me safe for a long time.

Mordaca stirred the contents with one black fingernail, then handed the bowl to Aerdeca. The blonde sorceress lifted it in front of her chest and circled her hand over the bowl. A white light glowed from her palm, extending out to envelop the bowl. The air hummed with her magic, and the wind that accompanied it picked up. It didn’t look like my clothes were blowing in it, but it felt like it.

The dark liquid in the bowl began to spin, rising up like a little tornado until it formed a ball. When the ball turned from black to clear, Aerdeca snatched it out of the air and put the bowl on the table.

“All done.” Aerdeca handed it to her sister.

“Nicely done,” Mordaca said.

“Nice to meet you.” Aerdeca turned to leave. The words didn’t sound sincere. “Next time, don’t come so early.”

That had sounded sincere, however.

She left the room, taking with her the sound of birds and the feeling of a breeze.

Mordaca held out the little glass ball. “This will lead you to your prey.”

I reached out for it, and she snatched it back.