Chapter 1

Chapter One

CLIO

Three Years Later

Five.

Rain pattered against the shop's small display window as Clio strolled past haphazard shelves, her gaze passing over the eclectic merchandise. Voices murmured nearby, the other shoppers out of sight.

Four.

Taking a quick glance around, she turned down an outer aisle. A man, anonymous in a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, stood in front of a cabinet, its glass doors locked to protect the valuable items within. She squeezed past him and stopped beside an array of dainty necklaces with colorful pendants.

Three.

She peeked to her left. A few steps away, the shop owner lounged at a high counter. From beneath bushy gray eyebrows, he surveyed his domain with a glower, his beady stare shifting from patron to patron, ready to bellow accusations of thievery. The darkness and rain had brought in more business than usual for a Tuesday night.

Two.

Nerves fluttered in the hollow of her stomach as she pretended to study the pendants. The hooded guy to her right was still staring intently into the locked cabinet. Hoping he could keep his undoubtedly sticky fingers to himself for the next ten minutes, she twitched the sleeve of her knitted maroon sweater up and glanced at her watch.

One.

A bell jingled, and the shop door swung open. Right on time.

The new arrival had dirty-blond hair pulled into a braid that was tucked under the neckline of his long black coat. His yellow-green eyes, eerily luminescent, slashed across the shop. Clio hastily focused on the merchandise in front of her, her pulse quickening. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the man scan the shop one more time before he strode to the counter and offered the owner a brief greeting.

Had her mark seemed unusually paranoid? He couldn't have guessed there was a spy in the shop.

Clio puffed out a breath. He had no reason to suspect her. She sidestepped closer to her mark and picked up a cheap pendant to check its price tag. The shopkeeper exchanged a few brisk sentences with his customer, then disappeared through a curtained doorway into the back of the shop. Her mark leaned against the counter, and his attention swept around the shop again.

Clio stepped out of his line of sight, flattening her gray cap on her head and ensuring her long blond hair was safely hidden. Not that she needed to worry too much about standing out with customers like the hooded guy radiating "I'm up to no good" vibes.

He was currently tapping one finger against the glass door of the locked cabinet. In a place like this, it was probably sealed tight with the kind of magic thieves would regret messing with. Only an idiot would attempt it … but the world was full of idiots.

If he did something stupid like trigger a spell and cause a scene, he would screw up everything. She coughed quietly, hoping to spook him.

He glanced at her, light penetrating the shadows beneath his hood and catching on bright amber eyes.

Her heart jammed itself behind her tonsils. She whipped back to the necklace display and took a deep, calming breath. Whatever the would-be thief was, he most certainly wasn't human—not that she'd expected humans here. But he was something even more dangerous than she'd expected. Something impossibly, supernaturally exquisite.

He reminded her of the beautiful flowers that filled her homeland: the brighter and more breathtaking the blooms were, the deadlier the poison they harbored.

The hooded thief had returned to his intense contemplation of the cabinet, still tapping it absently. His hood had shifted, revealing a sliver of his flawlessly attractive face—a smooth cheekbone sweeping down to the defined edge of his jaw.

Pulse still thundering in her ears, Clio forced her gaze away and moved back toward the counter. The shopkeeper reappeared, carrying a long object wrapped in brown paper that he set on the counter. Her mark eagerly began unwrapping his special order.

This was it—her moment. Dropping the necklace on a shelf, she passed a hand over her eyes to bring her other sight into focus.

Light blazed everywhere in a rainbow of colors, radiating from the spells that filled the shop. She kept her focus on her mark and his special item. A pale yellow haze coated his body— his glamour, magic that disguised his true form. Glowing spots warned of spells hidden beneath his clothing, but she wasn't here to dissect his magic. As he pulled the paper aside, she stepped closer, intending to walk nonchalantly by on her way out the door. All she needed was one good look at the spell.

A strange crackle, almost inaudible, hissed behind her, followed by a quiet pop. Fear slashed through her, and she turned sharply, ready to defend herself. Her enhanced sight fell on the thief standing at the cabinet.

He wasn't attacking her, but the sight of him obliterated all thought from her head for a second time.

Vibrant gold weavings layered his body in skintight magic, and the telltale glow of spells shone through his clothing—wrapping his wrists and arms, looping around his neck, circling his hips, and even glowing around his ankles. He was carrying an entire arsenal.

The only spells his clothing didn't obscure were those skintight weavings. They were masterpieces of interwoven lines, geometric angles, and precisely placed runes. She had never in her life seen magic so intricate, the lines fine as silk—but strong as armor.

She wanted to step closer and get a better look at exactly how?—

A noisy rustle of packing paper sent cold spilling through her. The buyer .

Clio whipped back around just as her mark tucked his purchase under his arm, the spell rewrapped in paper. The shopkeeper came around the counter and walked the buyer to the door—and all Clio could do was stand there and watch him go.

She clenched her jaw. She'd missed it. She'd missed her chance.

As a customer hailed the shopkeeper, Clio turned back around, furiously blinking her mundane sight back into focus. The overly armed man still stood in front of the cabinet, and this time she saw what she'd missed before.

The cabinet door was wide open, and the would-be thief was casually sorting through various items. He plucked a tiny bottle out and lifted it to the light. Its contents glittered like liquid silver mixed with diamond dust.

His gaze flicked from the vial to Clio.

She stiffened, narrowing her eyes into a glare despite the way his attention quickened her pulse. Well, now she knew where he'd gotten his rare, expensive weavings. He'd stolen them.

As his eyebrows climbed higher, she had to work to keep her glare from melting away. If he'd been breathtakingly handsome before, now that his attention was on her, it was like his very presence had ignited into a sensual flame and she was a bumbling moth, unable to resist. His magnetic amber eyes felt like a caress on her skin. The faint upward curve of his full lips looked like a sweet invitation.

Heat kindled in her center, fluttering and needy. His allure was so overwhelming, so unnaturally powerful, that she finally realized what he was.

An incubus.

Lords of seduction. Masters of lust. Inhumanly beautiful, flawless, sensual. The bane of self-respecting women everywhere. No wonder he'd distracted her so much. Incubi were reputed to have little magic and even less skill with it, but they made up for those deficiencies with their devastating sex appeal.

Then again, this incubus was carrying an excessive amount of magic, so maybe she shouldn't jump to conclusions about his abilities.

When she continued to glare silently instead of hurling accusations at the top of her lungs, his smile widened and he lowered the vial. She expected him to slip it out of sight under his clothes.

She didn't expect him to drop it.

It tumbled out of his fingers and smashed on the floor, the sound of breaking glass lost in the jingle of bells and the patter of rain as the shop door opened. She blinked at the silver puddle on the dirty tiles.

The incubus tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged like it didn't matter.

Footsteps thudded behind her, and a rough hand shoved her into the display of necklaces. Her hat slipped half off her head as she caught herself on the flimsy shelf, her hair spilling down her back in long blond waves.

The man who'd pushed her stopped in front of the incubus, his companion following behind more sedately. They were similarly dressed in dark jackets, the hoods pulled up.

"Well?" the first newcomer snapped. "Did you find any?"

Straightening, Clio rubbed her ear. Even with that angry edge, the man's voice had slid across her senses like a sweep of dark, sumptuous velvet.

"No," the incubus answered. "None here."

She righted her cap on her head with overly careful movements. Three words. That was all it had taken to send gooseflesh tingling down the back of her neck. The incubus's voice was smooth, soft, melting over her like she'd slipped into a warm, luxurious bath.

"Dulcet was certain this shop would have it," the third man murmured, far calmer than his companion and his voice just as divine. They sounded disconcertingly similar, the same instrument played by three different maestros.

The pushy one cut a hand through the air. "How can this entire city be devoid of quicksilver?"

Quicksilver? Bemused, Clio looked down at the shiny, metallic puddle on the floor.

The incubus shrugged. "I can't conjure it out of thin air just because you want some."

The pushy man surveyed the incubus, then casually grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and shoved him back into the cabinet. His head hit the glass door with a thud, and a spiderweb of cracks spread out from the point of impact.

"We have time to check one more place," the other man muttered. "Let's go."

He started to turn. If he took another step, he'd put his foot right in the quicksilver puddle.

Clio wasn't sure what made her do it. Maybe it was watching that asshole shove the unresisting incubus. Maybe it was the realization that the incubus had deliberately dropped the vial to thwart said asshole. Maybe it was her fear of what the asshole would do if he noticed the broken bottle and ruined quicksilver.

"Excuse me," she declared, striding forward.

All three of them looked at her, and her steps faltered.

For a moment, she thought she was seeing triple. The men—no, the incubi —were nearly identical, with chiseled jaws, lusciously inviting mouths, and smoldering amber eyes.

Her thoughts fizzled out. Instead of striding past them like she'd intended, she stepped into the puddle on the floor that she hadn't wanted the two new incubi to notice.

Her foot skidded out from under her, and she pitched forward.

She smacked into the original incubus's chest, grabbing handfuls of his sweatshirt for balance. With a sweep of his arm, he pulled her tight against him, steadying and trapping her at the same time.

A bewitching scent—unfamiliar spices with an undertone of cherry—filled her nose. Her face was mashed against his shoulder, her front was pressed to his, and her heart was pounding her rib cage into rubble.

"Literally throwing themselves at you," the angry incubus said, his words dripping with disgust. "Let's get out of here."

He and his companion strode away, leaving her in the grasp of the original incubus. The bells jingled and the door slammed.

Clio didn't move. Her thoughts were mired in a dreamy haze lit by enticing sensations: the hard planes of his chest and stomach against her; his arm coiled around her with easy strength; his hand pressed to the small of her back. Everywhere their bodies met felt like a hot, electric current was buzzing into her skin.

With effort, she tilted her head back.

The incubus's hood had fallen off, revealing rumpled hair just long enough to tease his eyes—just long enough for a lover to tangle their fingers in. The soft locks were a blond so pale it was almost white, the contrast striking against his flawless, honey-bronze skin.

And those eyes. Rich and deep pools of gold rimmed in black, shadowed by thick lashes.

As she gawked silently, his mouth quirked in a teasing smile. Holding her to him, he brushed a fingertip across her lower lip. Fire ignited in her skin as he slid his fingers to her chin, simultaneously leaning in.

For a wild, disbelieving second, she thought he would kiss her. Instead, he brought his mouth to her ear, his warm breath stirring the fine strands of her hair.

"Thanks," he whispered.

His touch disappeared all at once, and he slipped past her. She stared after him, her head spinning as he strolled to the door and pushed it open. Pulling his hood up, he stepped out into the rain. The door swung shut again.

Clio blinked several times, then pressed her hands to her face. Beneath her palms, a blush scorched her cheeks.

Shaking herself, she tried to pull her thoughts back into order. She'd missed her mark, blown her assignment, and made a fool of herself in front of three incubi. Could this night get any worse?

"What the hell?" a loud, furious voice exclaimed.

She whirled around. The hulking shopkeeper stood at the aisle's other end, veins bulging in his forehead as he looked from the open cabinet to the shimmery silver puddle to her standing in the middle of the mess.

" Girl! " he roared.

Why yes, it could get worse.