Talented Books 1-3 Box Set Read online

  Talented

  Books 1 - 3

  by

  Amy Hopkins

  Copyright © 2020 by Amy Hopkins

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Except for Lenny. Lenny is definitely real.

  Amy Hopkins

  11923 NE Sumner St

  STE 784338

  Portland, Oregon, 97250, USA

  amyhopkinsauthor.com

  Contents

  Talented (Title Page) A Drop of Dream Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A Dash of Fiend Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A Splash of Truth Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  About The Author

  A Drop of Dream

  For my children. Not a gift, but a lesson:

  You really can be anything.

  Dream big, live large, laugh loud, breathe deep.

  Chapter One

  The damp pavement glittered under the first kiss of morning’s light as I stepped outside. The air still held a touch of mist and I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms. Despite the chill, I smiled. The sight of early-morning London never lost its charm, even after years of living here.

  “C’mon, Lenny,” I called.

  Lenny bounded over, his too-long legs and floppy ears making the effort look clumsy, if adorable. I scratched his head, then pushed it away as he sniffed my basket.

  “It’s just teas,” I told him. “Keely said she needs some Soft-Sleep and three boxes of Awaken on top of her usual order.”

  He snorted appreciatively, then perked up as someone approached.

  Well… someones. Pax and Tox, two of my demigoblin customers, strolled towards us. The brothers looked like every other demigoblin in London, with their green, baggy skin and bulging eyes, but I could finally tell them apart—thanks to an unfortunate encounter with a cat, its milk, and the permanent scar that now graced Pax’s left cheek.

  “Mornin’, Emma!” Pax called. His gruff voice made it hard to tell what sort of mood he was in, and his deeply wrinkled face didn’t suggest much, either. Still, his pointed ears hung limp—I’d learned from experience that when a demigoblin’s ears stood forwards, it was best to tread carefully.

  “Morning, Pax.” I waved with my free hand.

  “You openin’ soon?” Tox asked. “I need some Luck.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What for? You know I won’t sell anything that lets you cheat.”

  He grinned. “I’m meetin’ a lady tonight. Don’t want to trip on my face or have a swarm of angry ‘oney-badgers pop up to ruin the night.”

  “Honey-badgers?” I shook my head, laughing. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Tox.”

  Pax joined in with a hearty chuckle of his own. “I told him, there’s no chance of that happenin’ twice in one month. Well…” He looked at his brother. “Almost no chance.”

  I lifted my basket. “I just have to run this over to Keely’s. Come back in about half an hour?”

  Pax and Tox both nodded and went on their way. Lenny and I set off, quickening our pace after the short delay. The tea shop had been getting busier of late—my trade with the Otherworlders had always been strong, but as the stigma of being part-Talented slowly wore away and people became more accepting, I’d gained an influx of curious mortals wanting to try the magical effects of my tea.

  Just yesterday, a trio of young businessmen had come to sample my blends for Alertness and Calculations. They’d bought a single box to share but returned minutes before closing to buy every last leaf on my shelf.

  By the time I rounded the last corner, my cheeks were flushed and the biting London air seemed a little warmer. A row of tenements stretched along the narrow street and I hurried toward number twenty-six—Keely’s house.

  I approached the worn red door, unable to stifle a sigh at the rubbish piled beside it. Empty bottles lined the front step and a pile of cigarette ash filled one of them. Oh, Keely. You’re never going to give up on him, are you? Sensing my abrupt change in mood, Lenny gave my leg a comforting nudge.

  Keely’s father was a heavy drinker. They often fought about it, but she refused to move, insisting that if he didn’t have someone looking after him, he wouldn’t last the week.

  I knocked on the door and waited. Beside me, Lenny whined.

  “It’s ok, boy.” I gave him another head scratch. “It’s just Keely’s. You’ve been here before.”

  When no one answered, I tried again, thumping harder. If I didn’t get back to my shop soon, I’d be late. When your customers include trolls and ogres, it’s best not to piss them off.

  I raised my hand to knock a third time and jumped when it cracked open.

  “Whaddyawant?” Keely’s father, Ernest, sported at least a week’s worth of rough stubble and his eyes barely opened.

  “I’ve got to drop these off to Keely,” I said. “I told her I’d be around early this morning—is she up?”

  “See fer yerself.” He turned and stomped away, leaving me to push the door open.

  Lenny pressed against my side and whined again.

  “Wait here, boy. Stay.” I stepped inside, nose wrinkling as strong fumes hit it. Rum, probably, and old beer.

  I picked my way through the mess. I hadn’t been inside the tiny flat before, and Ernest had already slumped back into a snoring heap on the tattered couch.

  Taking a guess, I tapped lightly on the pink-painted door hung with feathers and sticks. When no one answered I cursed under my breath and checked my watch.

  I’ve got fifteen minutes before those demigoblins start beating on my door. Stealing a glance at Ernest snoring away, I debated leaving the basket outside Keely’s door. Ernest didn’t know about Keely’s attempts to sober him up, though, and I couldn’t be sure of his reaction if he dug through the teas to find the addiction-enchanted box.

  After knocking one more time, I slipped out my wand.

  Keely and I weren’t close. She knew I didn’t approve of her curse-selling business and thought my own rules for selling ‘took all the fun out of magic’. Still, we had a friendly professional relationship.

  Hopefully, that relationship would survive the early morning intrusion. Waving my wand in the pattern that would trace my spell, I dismantled the simple charm that kept the door locked. I pushed it open.

  This room smelled different. Sage and lavender, and a hint of vanilla permeated the warm air. Unlike the cluttered space outside, Keely’s room was a more organised chaos. A corner desk stacked with boxes sat beside a worktable strewn with twigs, string and feathers. The closet was ajar, held open by a bundle of scarves dangled over the door, and the room glowed pink from the sunlight behind vibrant curtains pulled shut over a small window.

  “Keely?” I stepped quietly over to the silent lump under the covers.

  She didn’t stir, so I carefully placed the basket on the bedside table. In trying to balance it amongst the clutter, I knocked a lamp. It teetered and before I could grab it, it fell to the ground.
br />   The soft clink of broken glass sent my heart into my shoes.

  “Dammit!” I whispered.

  I couldn’t leave now—there was nothing in the room to clean the glass up with, and I didn’t want to go skulking around the house looking for a broom.

  “Keely!” I called a bit louder and reached over to shake her.

  Her skin was cold and stiff. My heart thumped a hard beat and I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat.

  “Keely?” I asked again, the confidence stripped from my voice.

  I pulled her shoulder and the body rolled towards me. Blank eyes stared at the ceiling and an inch-wide hole gaped under her collarbone.

  It took me a moment to realise the high-pitched scream was mine.

  Chapter Two

  Detective Charles Greyson jotted down another note, his face grim. “What about her dad?” he asked, again.

  “I’ve already told you—I know he’s got a bit of a drinking problem, but Keely never said anything to make me think he was violent.” I absentmindedly reached out to stroke Lenny’s head and he thumped his tail, happy for the attention. It eased the ache in my heart, just a little. My frustration, however, hadn’t abated.

  The detective had arrived with one other person. No forensics team, no back up. Though Greyson had at least poked around and asked what seemed like a million questions, his companion had simply peeked at the body and then elected to wait in the car—filling out paperwork, he claimed.

  “And all that mess in the living room?” Greyson asked, pulling my attention back to his interrogation.

  I shrugged, then wiped my nose. “It was a cluttered mess when I came in. When I screamed, Lenny came bolting in. He’s… not very coordinated.”

  Lenny’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, and he gave Detective Greyson a wide, panting smile.

  Greyson narrowed his eyes at Lenny suspiciously. “There was no sign of a forced entry when you arrived?” It was a new question, but his tone suggested he knew the answer already.

  “The door wasn’t blasted to pieces or anything, no. I wouldn’t know what else to look for. Officer.” I added the last as an afterthought, then bit my tongue when I realised the word had come out rather snidely. Cool it, Emma. He’s not the bad guy. Just… probably not a very helpful one.

  “Do you have a problem with the police force, ma’am?” Detective Greyson asked blandly.

  Problem? Apart from the fact that not one of you give a damn about my dead friend? Nerves getting the better of me, I shook my head. There was no way I was going to risk getting myself arrested.

  He sighed and put his pad away, then looked me over. “I’ll get in touch with the relevant department.”

  Anger prickled at me, flaming my grief and fear into anger. “Of course you will,” I muttered.

  Greyson looked wounded. “Look, I’m just a regular copper. These kinds of things are out of my jurisdiction.”

  “Bullshit.” I stood and turned away, but my emotions got the better of me. I turned back.

  “You’re just like the rest of them.” I gestured out the door, where officer number two sat eating a sandwich. “Do you think I’m stupid? I read the papers, I know Keely’s death is just another in a long string of them. But we’re half-bloods. Nobodies. You’ll kick this over to those useless twats at the O.C.U. and wipe your hands of a case that was too much effort to follow through.”

  I knew I was right. When Arthur, the first victim, was found there was an uproar. The idea of using magic to kill wasn’t a new one, but this had happened outside of the cloistered Inner City, and that meant regular people might be at risk.

  By the time the second and third deaths had rolled around, and the regular humans realised all the victims were half-blood… none of the unTalented were at risk. Suddenly, the front page story became an addendum at the back. The Otherworld Crime Unit, a bunch of washed-up rejects who weren’t quite bad enough to be fired from their policing jobs, hadn’t come up with a single lead.

  The Talented, those high and mighty lords who lived behind the walls of the Inner City, wouldn’t lower themselves enough to care about a dirty half-blood. Despite the fact we shared half our genes with them, the intermingling of pure magical blood with a common mortal was anathema to them.

  “That’s not fair,” Greyson said. His dark eyes searched mine. “It’s not that I don’t care. I really can’t—”

  “Can’t and won’t are two very different words, Detective Greyson.” I stood and gestured to Lenny. “If we’re done?”

  He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Someone will be in touch.”

  “I very much doubt that.” His heavy gaze settled like a weight on my shoulders as I left, but I knew I was right.

  No one cared about the half-bloods.

  Chapter Three

  Another attack?” Pax asked. “Thought they’d have caught him by now.”

  “You know how it is for us.” I tied a neat string around Tox’s parcels and slid them across the counter. “There’s no one to turn to. Is there anything you can do?”

  Tox grabbed his tea, his ears forward and alert. “We’ll keep an eye out, make sure the Others report anything suspicious. Don’t want our favourite tea-shop shuttin’ down.”

  Pax’s beady eyes shot open in alarm. “You’re not gonna shut shop and run are ya? Your Speedin’ tea is the only thing that keeps me faster than the Balrogs when I go huntin’”

  “Not a chance Pax.” I gestured at the shelves beside me. “This place means everything to me, I wouldn’t leave it. I appreciate the help, though.”

  Pax grinned, showing his crooked teeth. “Don’t mention it. You know you’ve earned your place here and you’ve always looked after us. We’ll keep an eye out.”

  I knew he meant it—Otherworld creatures took things like honour and loyalty seriously... even if they didn’t have the same respect for concepts like ownership or personal boundaries.

  Tox handed over his chips, the currency of the Otherworld, and I busied myself getting their orders ready. I made a quick note of the sales in my ledger and waved goodbye.

  Outside, tyres screeched as a car slammed on its brakes. I looked up to see a nine-foot-tall half-giant waving a sheepish apology to the car she’d nearly stepped in front of. Despite the vehicles having been around for over a century, the Otherworlders still struggled with the basics of road safety. Mavis waited for the car to pass, then headed into the shop.

  “Mavis, I haven’t seen you for weeks! Is everything… well?” I wasn’t sure how else to phrase the delicate question.

  Mavis, hunched over to fit her large frame into my tiny shop, blushed. “Yes, m’lady. I’m with child. Three, actually.”

  I flew around the counter to embrace her. Having brewed various teas for the local Giant clan for a while, I’d been surprised to get a request such as hers. Mavis, being a mixed-breed of two different clans, had been having trouble conceiving. A standard human fertility tea would have helped somewhat, but I’d tweaked the spell I’d used on it to account for the slight variance in giant anatomy. I hadn’t been sure if it would work.

  “Three? Is that typical?” I didn’t think it was.

  “No, m’lady. If all goes well and they survive, I’ll be able to gift one to each of the major clans. I’ll be looked upon quite favourably after that.” Mavis perused the selection I had on display. “I do hope you have something for the tummy upset, though.”

  Despite my discomfort at the child raising customs of the giants, I was happy for her. She spoke little of her personal situation, but I’d gathered her place in the giant hierarchy was quite low because of her mixed birth. That was something I was painfully familiar with.

  The day continued, all manner of creatures visiting my little tea shop, and not all were coming in to buy tea. The news that I’d had a brush with a serial killer had travelled fast.

  London was a busy place, a central hub that acted as one of the major thoroughfares between the Otherworld and our world. They shared information freely and the topic of what the humans were up to was a frequent topic of conversation between them. Though this made for an interesting mix, we generally existed together in peace. Generally.

  Trouble came a short while before lunch. I’d just waved over Jacoby, one of the few Talented lords who frequented my shop. Old and wheelchair-bound, probably due to some magical disease or curse, he seemed to have more empathy for half-bloods than most of his kind.