The Black Veins (Dead Magic Book 1)

by Ashia Monet

  Katia sets her phone into the empty cupholder. No one asks who she spoke to, or what that conversation was about.

  If Blythe had to guess, she would assume that Val is looking for someone in the Trident Republic—which only strengthens Blythe’s assumption that Katia has ties to them.

  Katia Darkholme cannot be trusted.

  They arrive at the line of seven trees again, the space between their trunks just as dark as Blythe remember. Even though snow falls around them, nothing moves or shifts in their darkness.

  When the van plunges into the shadows, the world is extinguished until sunlight reappears, and suddenly they are driving out of a patch of trees and onto a road. It seems that the seven trees represent an exit; their darkness is a multi-purpose exit back into the real world.

  Katia is entirely unphased. “We’ll have to get to San Diego, California using nothing but highways. Which is about as annoying as you can imagine.”

  And it is. The drive lasts hours; Blythe watches the sun shift places in the sky as the hours drip past, until her body grows cramped and tired and Daniel gets carsick in the backseat.

  They stop for meals cooked with too much oil and wrapped in crinkly foil. Their bathroom breaks take place in abandoned rest stops with worrying odors.

  The sky melts from day to night. When stars take over the sky, Katia drives the van toward a tall, spiraling white building.

  It looks like a magician’s hotel, especially judging from the lights that shine down from balconies, into the parking lot. But the air is calm and still, as if there is no magic to be found.

  “Is this a magicians’ hotel?” Cordelia asks. Blythe wouldn’t be surprised if Cordelia stole the question right out of Blythe’s own head.

  “No,” Katia says. “Just a boujee one.”

  Blythe wishes she could rest. Honesty, nothing sounds better than burying herself under a pile of cool, crisp blankets and finally shutting her eyes.

  But within a few hours, Katia will be asleep and the van will be in the parking lot. This is the perfect opportunity to escape.

  If Blythe’s going to leave, it needs to be now.

  The words “THE THORNE” hang in bold, golden letters above the revolving glass doors. Blythe whistles low as they step into an expansive golden foyer with shiny tile and white sofas.

  As if the four sparkling chandeliers weren’t extravagant enough, a fountain spews arcs of water in front of a glass elevator.

  “Finally, we’re staying somewhere normal,” Cordelia snorts.

  The Guardians head for the comfortable seating and complimentary chocolates while Katia approaches the front desk.

  “Is Willow working tonight?” Blythe hears her ask.

  “No, not tonight,” replies the man. “Can I help you with anything?”

  Katia sighs. “Two rooms’ll be fine.”

  Blythe wonders who this Willow person is, but the conversation becomes a simple exchange of identification and payment.

  Cordelia and Daniel are pretending everyone else doesn’t exist, so Blythe slouches and takes out her phone. Her first task is to text Jamie to let them know she’s alright and still alive.

  She’s watching Instagram stories when Katia walks up to them, keycards and two brown paper bags in hand. “Daniel, you’re with me. Cords and Blythe, you’re in the room across the hall.”

  The glass elevator smoothly escorts them to their floor, where Katia and Daniel disappear into their room, leaving Blythe and Cordelia to their own devices.

  The hotel has gone above and beyond with their amenities. They have two beds with white sheets and overstuffed pillows that are practically calling Blythe’s name, plus a huge flat screen and a view of the city that is absolutely sublime.

  But Blythe has a mission.

  Cordelia sits on the edge of the closest bed, already unlacing her wedge sandals. Blythe, however, lingers near the door.

  “I’m leaving tonight,” she announces.

  Cordelia doesn’t even look up from her feet. “I figured,” she replies. “Well, goodbye.”

  Exactly what Blythe thought she’d say.

  Blythe could just leave. Rough it through Electric City with just her hockey stick and, maybe, Daniel. But Cordelia is a competent hacker and a mind reader.

  The advantages of having someone like that on Blythe’s side are too many to count. Leaving her behind would be foolish.

  So Blythe sighs, leaning against the door. If she wants Cordelia to come, she’s going to have to speak her language.

  “Listen. I know it seems like I was being annoying for no reason with the whole ‘wind magic’ thing, but I really don’t think Katia is trustworthy. Or safe.”

  Cordelia doesn’t look at her. But she doesn’t speak either.

  “The man who called her asked for help finding someone. She told him he may have to go into the Fae Lands. And who did she say was allied with the Fae? The Trident Republic. She also mentioned having a friend in the Black Veins Imperial Army, the same army who is currently searching for Walden Oliver. And who did you ask her about, when she refused to answer your question? Walden Oliver. And finally, let’s be real,” Blythe pauses for effect. “Do you really think the Sages would send one person to get all six Guardians?”

  Boom. Blythe resists the urge to mime a mic drop.

  Cordelia’s hair falls along her back as she raises her head, eying her. “I’m a mind reader, Blythe,” she says. “You just want to find your family.”

  “Yeah, and?” Blythe retorts. “You want to stop the Trident Republic so you can go back home. You think Katia’s going to let you do that?”

  Cordelia glares at her.

  “Do what you want,” Blythe says. “But I’m going to do what’ll work in my favor.”

  Cordelia sits up straight. Blythe isn’t sure what to expect from her—Cordelia Deleon isn’t always the most predictable person. Especially since Blythe’s never been able to prove her wrong before.

  Cordelia stands, goes into the bathroom in the back of the room, and shuts the door.

  Well, maybe that conversation went about as well as it could have. At least Blythe tried.

  She sinks into the mountain of pillows on the second bed, scrolling through Instagram until Cordelia leaves the bathroom, which doesn’t happen until a whole thirty minutes later.

  Cordelia doesn’t speak to Blythe, only raises her chin a bit higher as Blythe passes her. Whatever. Blythe cares more about this amazing shower she’s about to take.

  Under the warm water, Blythe tends to her curls and her skin. Her leg is healing quickly and the burn is coming along as well. She doesn’t have time to indulge in her usual routines, but at least she can make herself look presentable.

  Blythe expects to see Cordelia fast asleep when she emerges, silk sleep mask covering her face and hair braided.

  Instead, Cordelia sits on the edge of her bed, fully dressed and applying gloss to her lips through a handheld mirror.

  “Well,” she says to her reflection. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re coming?” Blythe is too stunned to think of a better response.

  Cordelia rolls her eyes. “I know you aren’t that dense, Blythe. We haven’t got all night.”

  “Actually, we kinda do—y’know what, nevermind, I’m not gonna press my luck.”

  Blythe has to toss her things into her backpack to be ready by the time Cordelia is heading into the hallway. You’d think this was her mission by the way she’s strutting around. But maybe she’s just more confident in her abilities than Blythe.

  Blythe lowers her voice as she closes the door behind them. “How long have you been reading minds?” She asks. “Like, before you knew about magic?”

  “No. It started happening after the roof incident. I assume that exposure to magic made it—” Cordelia catches herself and makes a face. “This has nothing to do with anything.”

  “Just trying to make conversation,” Blythe shrugs. “Can you do that mind thing and tell Daniel to com
e out?”

  Cordelia turns up her lip. “And make him scream out of surprise because he’s never experienced that before?”

  “Alright, fair,” Blythe relents. “Do we have his phone number?”

  Cordelia tosses her head back with a dramatic eye-roll. “Why are we bothering with him? He’s a liability.”

  “I am not leaving him. Plus, Katia has the keys to the van. We need to get in there.”

  A pause descends between them, Blythe unyielding, Cordelia narrowing her eyes and, seemingly, weighing her options.

  “Fine,” Cordelia finally says. “I’ll do it.”

  But instead of using magic, she whips out her phone. Blythe does wait patiently—at first. The minutes tick by.

  “Um,” Blythe says. “If he’s not answering, we could just—”

  “I wasn’t texting him,” Cordelia interrupts.

  There’s no time to ask what she was doing, because the keycard slot turns green.

  “Holy shit,” Blythe whispers. “Did you just hack through a locked door? Is that a thing? That can’t be a thing.”

  Cordelia only presses a finger to her lips as she eases the door open.

  The room is dark, but not too dark for Blythe to make out Katia sleeping in the far bed. Daniel is curled under the blankets near the door, staring at the wall.

  He sits up as they enter. Thank God he’s quiet; Blythe doesn’t have to worry about him waking Katia.

  Blythe points Cordelia toward Katia. She doesn’t have to explain: Cordelia already knows to go find the keys.

  Blythe, meanwhile, kneels beside Daniel. “We need to leave,” she whispers. “I’ll explain in the car.”

  Daniel studies her face; his eyes are wide with fear but his brow is wrinkled with confusion.

  “You can stay if you want,” Blythe continues. “But me and Cordelia are going to try and get to Electric City. It’ll be dangerous, and it’ll take a while, so you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I just wanted to give you the option.”

  Daniel looks down. Cordelia’s in the doorway now, raising the keys in her hand. Hurry up, her stretched eyes say.

  Daniel seems to be debating, fingers digging into the bed as his brow wrinkles.

  Katia shifts. The mattress groans under her weight.

  “Okay, time to go, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Blythe rushes.

  Daniel’s jaw clenches. He tosses the sheets off of himself and points over Blythe’s shoulder.

  A leather bag slouches against the mattress: his stuff. Blythe grabs it in time to see Daniel reach under his pillow and take his grimoire.

  “You sleep with that thing?” Blythe asks. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

  Cordelia storms out of the doorway.

  “We’ll chat in the car,” Blythe says, and runs after her.

  They are three teenagers with stuffed backpacks rushing into the parking lot, but the hotel staff pays them little attention besides a few suspicious glances.

  Blythe has never been happier to unlock the van and curl her fingers around its steering wheel. She smiles so hard it almost hurts. She’s back, baby.

  The tires sing as Blythe rips out of the lot, leaving the Thorn to shrink smaller and smaller in her rearview mirror.

  Cordelia’s rolls down the window, closing her eyes against the wind that bursts inside to greet them. A laugh grows and bubbles out of Blythe.

  They did it. They’re gone.

  “You okay back there, Daniell?” Blythe asks.

  He seems bothered by something. “I’m outside in my pajamas,” he observes.

  Blythe grins at him. “I have a feeling that’s gonna be one of the least weird things that happens to us.”

  Cordelia brushes a few stray strands of hair from her face. “So, what’s the plan? Are we stopping somewhere or going straight to the city?”

  Blythe considers this. They don’t need to stop anywhere. But…there are a couple places they could stop at.

  Katia was right about one thing—Blythe will never survive in Electric City on her own. Yes, she has Daniel and Cordelia, but imagine if she had more.

  It’ll take more than two people to help her brave Electric City—Blythe’s going to need a team.

  “First,” Blythe says. “We’re going to California.”

  Cordelia cocks an eyebrow. “California? What for?”

  “Because,” Blythe begins. “We’re gonna find the other Guardians.”

  Cordelia rolls her eyes, so Blythe starts explaining before she can interrupt. “Katia was shady, but I don’t think she was lying when she said Electric City was dangerous. We’re gonna need help if we don’t want to die there. The other four Guardians are our best bet. Er, three Guardians. Whatever, we’ll get whoever we can get.”

  Cordelia groans, pressing two pastel pink nails against her temple as if to pry Blythe’s thoughts out of her head.

  “Let me just make something abundantly clear,” she snaps. “I am not coming along to feed your ego. My goal is to get the Trident Republic off my back so I can live my normal, non-magical, Common life. Don’t assume I’ll be giving up my own resources to help you. I’m not with you.”

  Blythe scoffs. The longer she’s around this girl, the less all of her talk matters. “Whatever, Cordelia.”

  Silence falls, leaving the hum of the engine as the only sound between them.

  “I’m with Blythe,” Daniel whispers.

  Blythe smiles. “Thank you, Daniel.”

  Ten

  They travel under moonlight and streetlights, pausing only at red lights and speeding forward the second they turn green.

  Cordelia sits with her legs crossed prettily, chin on her palm. With her flawless flushed skin and pastel pink dress, Blythe could snap a picture of her and place it on the cover of a magazine.

  “Your entire plan relies on the assumption that the other Guardians have something to offer,” Cordelia says.

  And, of course, they’ve barely been on the road for twenty minutes and she’s already complaining.

  “One of them is the Guardian of Death,” Blythe says. “They should be able to do something.”

  Cordelia tilts her head. “You want to kill people?”

  “Well, maybe they could like, stand near us and be scary so no one bothers us.”

  “They’re the Guardian of Death, it’s not like they have a stun setting,” Cordelia spits. “Looking for these Guardians will waste time. We have a lead on Katia, but since we can’t use the Tempore—”

  “Oh,” Blythe interrupts. “We’re still using the Tempore.”

  Daniel’s gone pale in the back. “B-But the Trident Republic stole it!”

  “The Trident Republic steals lots of things, including my family and peace of mind, but you don’t see that stopping me,” Blythe says. “We’ll never make it anywhere if we don’t use it. If something attacks us, we’ll just…hide.”

  “But we could get lost,” Daniel protests, as if being lost is one of the worst fates to befall man.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Cordelia says. “Daniel, hand me the cloak back there.”

  Blythe can barely get her words out. “The wh—you stole Katia’s cloak?!”

  Sure enough, Daniel passes Katia’s black echoing cloak into Cordelia’s hands.

  “It was on the chair beside the keys,” Cordelia explains coolly. “I figured she may have some clues in here. Now, how does this—”

  Her words cut off with a scream. She’s absolutely fine, besides the fact that her hand has disappeared into the cloak, the darkness reaching up to her pale wrist.

  “Whoa,” Blythe breathes. “That’s cool.”

  “My hand is in there!” Cordelia yells.

  “Better yours than mine.”

  That snaps Cordelia back to her senses. She rolls her eyes, collecting herself before she plunges both hands into the cloak.

  A horn honks, bringing Blythe’s attention back to the road. If she keeps glancing at what Cordelia’s doing,
the only place they’ll end up is inside a wrapped around a pole.

  “There are some loose dollars here,” Cordelia says. Items clink together as she sifts through them. “And…a compass?”

  “It has to be magical somehow,” Blythe says.

  “Whatever. Um…more cash. Christ, there’s so many things.”

  Apparently, Katia’s rolling in dough. Maybe she won’t mind if they borrow some of it. After all, this is, technically, an emergency.

  Blythe glances into the rearview mirror. “Hey Daniel, what’s your phone number?”

  “I-I don’t own a phone,” Daniel stammers.

  “Well, shit,” Blythe exclaims. “Why not?”

  “I-I never needed one.”

  Of course. If he never left his house and his family communicated via handwritten letters, what use would a cell phone be?

  “Well, you’ll need one now,” Blythe says. “We can stop and get you one. Looks like we’ve got cash to spare.”

  Cordelia tries to argue about rationing it, but Blythe points out that they’ll need to contact Daniel if the three of them ever get separated.

  Cordelia’s voice echoes in her mind. I don’t think we should be spending money on someone that’s expendable.

  Blythe almost balks aloud. I can’t believe you just came into my head and said that to me. We’re getting him a damn phone; he’s not expendable, he’s a person.

  Cordelia side eyes her. An expendable person.

  “We’d have to pay for phone service as well,” Cordelia adds aloud.

  “There are apps for that,” Blythe snaps.

  “What are apps?” Daniel asks.

  Admittedly, Daniel Quinton is a piece of work—but he is not expendable.

  Blythe explains the concept as best she can, but modern technology is such a puzzle to Daniel that she doubts any of it makes sense to him.

  They soon come to an intersection bustling with activity. On the other side lies a forest of trees, branches bent like heavy arms toward the trampled grass.

  Blythe takes in a steadying breath. “God I hope this works.”

  If they don’t get into the Tempore, they’ll certainly get into an accident.

  Cordelia sits up bolt right. “Blythe, we can’t drive straight through an intersection! Are you crazy?!”