Sea Fire
Depths of Magic #1 by Emma Shelford
Chapter One
Depths of Magic #1 by Emma Shelford
Chapter One
My strapless bra dug into my ribs. Not for the first time, I cursed gravity on land. In my ocean home, bras hadn’t been necessary.
Not home, I reminded myself. Land was home, now. There was nothing under the waves for me anymore.
I straightened my shoulders, took a deep breath, then slid a small tray off the bar counter. The bartender nodded at me but didn’t say anything. Although his skin was dark, I knew he dyed his naturally white hair to blend in. He was another halfer like me, cast upon the shores to find a new life away from oppression below. I was neither the first nor the last to crawl ashore, spat out from undersea politics like a fish bone and hoping for a more fruitful life. Too bad dry land wasn’t much of an improvement.
I sashayed across the busy club floor in my despicable silver heels. I’d practiced enough in the past year to walk with confidence in a pair of stilettos, but that didn’t mean I liked the torture devices strapped to my feet. I preferred barefoot, but when that wasn’t practical, I had a pair of comfortable boots that did the trick.
My silver gown embroidered with lacey filigree and sparkling crystals drew the attention of the women I passed, and my swaying hips and deeply cut neckline caught the attention of the men. Although all the servers were dressed like me—the club’s theme tonight was “Siren Seduction”—I wore it best, since my locks were naturally white and my eyes didn’t need contacts to achieve the palest gray. The club was very exclusive and could afford to go above and beyond with the details. I ignored everyone. I had one mission tonight, then I was out of here.
My destination was a corner booth reserved for the owner of the club. Branc ruled the halfers under his “care” with the weight of an anchor. When he said dive, we asked how deep, or else suffered the consequences.
Branc nodded when he saw me. His black eyes were intense in his pale face, but they matched the inky darkness of his slick hair. I suppressed a shudder at the sight of him and longed for the day when I would be free of his baleful influence. It would be a long time coming.
“A special order for the gentlemen here?” I said in a low, seductive voice that made me want to curl my lip in distaste. I hated the role Branc made me play. But if I didn’t earn my keep, I would never pay back the debts I owed him.
“Well, hello, gorgeous.” The skinny man in a tailored suit sitting with Branc grinned at me with a lascivious leer. He shuffled over to make room on the bench. “Come sit, beautiful.”
I pasted on a fake smile and slid gracefully next to him. I offered the drink and looked at him through my eyelashes. It was too easy to seduce a man. I almost didn’t need to use my special talents.
“Enjoy.”
The man tipped back his scotch and smacked his lips. I ran my fingers over his shoulder, and he looked at me with hungry eyes.
I’d had enough of this. Chewing on rotten seaweed was more pleasant. Time to speed things along.
I glanced at Branc. He’d been watching a server pass by—her white tresses and silvery dress a mirror of my own look, although a wig covered her human hair—then his eyes snapped to mine. He nodded with a slight tilt to his head.
I ran a fingernail along the man’s neck.
“Tell me,” I purred with the special cadence that loosened tongues. “What are you hiding?”
“I can’t spill my secrets to you,” he chortled. “No matter how pretty you are.”
Whatever he was hiding must be valuable if he could resist my initial push. I hummed deep in my chest while I spoke. It was too low to properly hear, especially in the noisy club, but the man would feel it through my hand. And, with that encouragement, he would do whatever I asked him to.
“Sure you can.”
I leaned forward and ran the tip of my nose against his jawline. He shivered, and his mouth opened as the words poured out.
“The coast guard confiscated a whole crate of weird stuff. They have no idea what it is. Now they’re making discreet inquiries and sending anonymized samples to labs. Word is, the crate’s being held in a warehouse in West Van until they figure out what to do with it. We think it’s a new type of drug from Asia, but I need my guys to test it first.”
I glanced again at Branc. He nodded, then jerked his head to indicate that I should leave. I stood quickly, eager to follow his instructions. I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to be.
The man looked dazed, but I ignored him. I turned on my ridiculously pointed heel and strode to a door beside the bar that led to the back rooms. I wanted to ditch this slinky dress, these terrible shoes, and the taint of Branc’s business.
The work tonight would help pay down my debt, though, and I was begrudgingly grateful for that. I slammed into the manager’s cluttered office where I’d left my street clothes and unzipped my dress with a sigh.
My relief was short-lived. Before I had put my shirt on, Branc entered the room.
“Good,” he said. “You got it out of him.”
I scowled at Branc and slipped my shirt over my head. “Of course I did.”
I wasn’t fussed about changing in front of Branc—siren culture wasn’t as prudish as human society—but annoyance coursed through me at the suggestion that I might have been unsuccessful.
He shrugged. “You’ll fail one day. But, until then, you’re useful. I’ll waive half your rent next month as payment.”
My mouth dropped.
“That’s it?” At Branc’s dangerous look, I backtracked. “I mean, thanks. Let me know if I can work off my debt with anything else.”
“You know there’s a quicker way to pay me back. I have several customers who want to experience a siren in more intimate ways.”
“Not that,” I blurted. The pay would be mouthwateringly good, but I had standards. I wasn’t that desperate—yet. “But let me know if there’s anything else.”
“Oh, I will,” he said with a satisfied smile. “I’ll be in touch, Lune.”
Not home, I reminded myself. Land was home, now. There was nothing under the waves for me anymore.
I straightened my shoulders, took a deep breath, then slid a small tray off the bar counter. The bartender nodded at me but didn’t say anything. Although his skin was dark, I knew he dyed his naturally white hair to blend in. He was another halfer like me, cast upon the shores to find a new life away from oppression below. I was neither the first nor the last to crawl ashore, spat out from undersea politics like a fish bone and hoping for a more fruitful life. Too bad dry land wasn’t much of an improvement.
I sashayed across the busy club floor in my despicable silver heels. I’d practiced enough in the past year to walk with confidence in a pair of stilettos, but that didn’t mean I liked the torture devices strapped to my feet. I preferred barefoot, but when that wasn’t practical, I had a pair of comfortable boots that did the trick.
My silver gown embroidered with lacey filigree and sparkling crystals drew the attention of the women I passed, and my swaying hips and deeply cut neckline caught the attention of the men. Although all the servers were dressed like me—the club’s theme tonight was “Siren Seduction”—I wore it best, since my locks were naturally white and my eyes didn’t need contacts to achieve the palest gray. The club was very exclusive and could afford to go above and beyond with the details. I ignored everyone. I had one mission tonight, then I was out of here.
My destination was a corner booth reserved for the owner of the club. Branc ruled the halfers under his “care” with the weight of an anchor. When he said dive, we asked how deep, or else suffered the consequences.
Branc nodded when he saw me. His black eyes were intense in his pale face, but they matched the inky darkness of his slick hair. I suppressed a shudder at the sight of him and longed for the day when I would be free of his baleful influence. It would be a long time coming.
“A special order for the gentlemen here?” I said in a low, seductive voice that made me want to curl my lip in distaste. I hated the role Branc made me play. But if I didn’t earn my keep, I would never pay back the debts I owed him.
“Well, hello, gorgeous.” The skinny man in a tailored suit sitting with Branc grinned at me with a lascivious leer. He shuffled over to make room on the bench. “Come sit, beautiful.”
I pasted on a fake smile and slid gracefully next to him. I offered the drink and looked at him through my eyelashes. It was too easy to seduce a man. I almost didn’t need to use my special talents.
“Enjoy.”
The man tipped back his scotch and smacked his lips. I ran my fingers over his shoulder, and he looked at me with hungry eyes.
I’d had enough of this. Chewing on rotten seaweed was more pleasant. Time to speed things along.
I glanced at Branc. He’d been watching a server pass by—her white tresses and silvery dress a mirror of my own look, although a wig covered her human hair—then his eyes snapped to mine. He nodded with a slight tilt to his head.
I ran a fingernail along the man’s neck.
“Tell me,” I purred with the special cadence that loosened tongues. “What are you hiding?”
“I can’t spill my secrets to you,” he chortled. “No matter how pretty you are.”
Whatever he was hiding must be valuable if he could resist my initial push. I hummed deep in my chest while I spoke. It was too low to properly hear, especially in the noisy club, but the man would feel it through my hand. And, with that encouragement, he would do whatever I asked him to.
“Sure you can.”
I leaned forward and ran the tip of my nose against his jawline. He shivered, and his mouth opened as the words poured out.
“The coast guard confiscated a whole crate of weird stuff. They have no idea what it is. Now they’re making discreet inquiries and sending anonymized samples to labs. Word is, the crate’s being held in a warehouse in West Van until they figure out what to do with it. We think it’s a new type of drug from Asia, but I need my guys to test it first.”
I glanced again at Branc. He nodded, then jerked his head to indicate that I should leave. I stood quickly, eager to follow his instructions. I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to be.
The man looked dazed, but I ignored him. I turned on my ridiculously pointed heel and strode to a door beside the bar that led to the back rooms. I wanted to ditch this slinky dress, these terrible shoes, and the taint of Branc’s business.
The work tonight would help pay down my debt, though, and I was begrudgingly grateful for that. I slammed into the manager’s cluttered office where I’d left my street clothes and unzipped my dress with a sigh.
My relief was short-lived. Before I had put my shirt on, Branc entered the room.
“Good,” he said. “You got it out of him.”
I scowled at Branc and slipped my shirt over my head. “Of course I did.”
I wasn’t fussed about changing in front of Branc—siren culture wasn’t as prudish as human society—but annoyance coursed through me at the suggestion that I might have been unsuccessful.
He shrugged. “You’ll fail one day. But, until then, you’re useful. I’ll waive half your rent next month as payment.”
My mouth dropped.
“That’s it?” At Branc’s dangerous look, I backtracked. “I mean, thanks. Let me know if I can work off my debt with anything else.”
“You know there’s a quicker way to pay me back. I have several customers who want to experience a siren in more intimate ways.”
“Not that,” I blurted. The pay would be mouthwateringly good, but I had standards. I wasn’t that desperate—yet. “But let me know if there’s anything else.”
“Oh, I will,” he said with a satisfied smile. “I’ll be in touch, Lune.”
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