Stolen Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Huntress Book 3) by Linsey Hall Page B

were in an enormous stadium.  
    No, a coliseum. People dressed in Roman togas screamed and waved their fists at the gladiators below. Dust billowed beneath the fighters’ feet as they danced around each other, swords clashing.
    Did this waypoint take us between times as well as worlds?
    Toga-clad people turned to point and shout at us.  
    “We need to get out of here,” Aidan said.  
    “Agreed,” Del said. “I don’t want to be burned as a witch for appearing out of the blue.”
    I nodded vehemently, though I wasn’t sure if the Romans burned people as witches. It didn’t really matter, though. Anyone capable of appearing out of thin air probably looked dangerous and in need of serious questioning.  
    “Come on!” Aidan said, then turned and pushed his way through the crowd toward the nearby stairs. We followed him, single file, taking advantage of the path he’d created and sprinting down the stone steps.
    More and more people turned to look at us instead of the battle below. Our clothes were so strange. Pants in ancient Rome? Talk about weird. I couldn’t sense any magic, which meant we were likely among mortals. A few mortals were no problem. But this many mortals?
    A big problem. I didn’t want us getting caught in some sticky situation that necessitated Del transporting us out of here. She needed to save her power for the return journey to Magic’s Bend.  
    Heavily armed men blocked our exit at the bottom of the stairs, their swords raised and glinting in the light.  
    “No magic!” I hissed at my companions. “They’re human!”
    I reached for my daggers, hesitating when the scene began to waver. The gladiators and sunlight disappeared, replaced by darkness, strobe lights, and pulsing music.  
    “What the hell!” Nix shouted from beside me.
    All around us, hundreds of bodies danced to the techno music that blared from enormous speakers set upon a raised stage. Rainbow-colored strobe lights lit the scene. Magic flowed from the inhabitants, a cacophonous blend of scents, tastes, feelings.
    We were in some kind of supernatural dance club, likely in an all-magic city somewhere in Europe.
    “I take it back!” Nix said. “I think I prefer fake Antarctica!”
    So did I. It was damned hard to follow my dragon sense with so much going on around me. I had to close my eyes to focus on it. But it was elusive, the feel of Dr. Garriso’s location only a weak tug about my middle. Left? Forward?  
    Finally, I picked up the thread of it and followed the tug, turning around and pointing toward the main part of the club. The dance floor was huge, an endless sea of supernaturals of all shapes and sizes. Even demons danced, their weird shapes and colors standing out amongst the more human-looking supernaturals.
    “There!” I pointed. “The exit past the dance floor.”
    I stepped aside to let Aidan lead, figuring his bulk was better to part the crowd. It worked, and we followed him through the writhing bodies. I slapped a hand that reached for my ass, but by the second one, I was pissed. That guy got a punch straight to the nose.
    “Bitch!” he cried, then grunted.
    I turned to see him doubled over and Nix shaking her fist.  
    “Moron!” she yelled, then turned and winked at me.  
    We pushed our way through the crowd to catch up to Aidan, who’d stopped in the middle of the crowd to wait for us. A trio of Barbie dolls had turned to stare appreciatively at him. They were approaching when I reached him. I hissed—honest to god, hissed —which was really embarrassing, but they backed off.
    Apparently I was territorial around Aidan. That was new for me, but now was hardly the time to examine it.
    Actually, never was the time to examine it.
    We set off through the crowd again, following in Aidan’s wake. The exit light beckoned. What city would we step out into?
    The ground fell out from under me. A scream strangled in my throat as I clawed at the air. I crashed into icy cold saltwater. It blinded me,