The Mage Tales Prequels, Books 0-II: (An Urban Fantasy Thriller Collection)

by Ilana Waters

  “It’s shit.” Beller lowered the other side of the wardrobe to the floor. “The smell of shit. You’re full of it, mate!” He pointed to the third vampire while he and the second burst out laughing. Gregson sighed and rolled his eyes.

  “No, I mean it,” the other vampire insisted. He stepped closer to the center of the room and scratched his head. “You get a sense there’s something else here?” He motioned to the vast space. “Something . . . human?”

  Abigail inhaled sharply, then covered her mouth. Titus stared straight ahead. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing his thick, veined forearms. He could take out at least two immediately. The third might give him trouble if he intervened. And the presence of the witch—Gregson—changed the field of play entirely.

  “You’re just hungry, you silly git.” Beller jerked his head to indicate he needed the third vampire’s help. The vampire took one last glance around the warehouse and disappeared into the truck. The second vampire followed him. They emerged with the largest crate yet, its blond wood sagging and waterlogged. Gregson went back to making sharp, quick movements on the clipboard with his pen.

  “Yeah, cool your heels, Johnny,” the second vampire said. He and the other made their way slowly out of the truck. The crate’s wood let out a groan. “We’ll be having our eats soon enough.” The bottom corner of the crate nearest Johnny finally gave out. Its wooden plank split, and a mess of tin cans hit the floor. Some were dented; others spilled open. A sour smell filled the air. Gregson looked up from his clipboard.

  “Careful!” he snapped. “Old Cunningham would have a fit if she thought you were damaging her wares.”

  “Cunningham?” Titus and Abigail whispered.

  “Weren’t my fault!” Johnny kicked several cans out of his way. Squeezing the wooden beams of the crate together with his bare hands, he hoisted it back up. “And I don’t give a shit what that old bird thinks. If she has a problem, she can kiss my sweet arse.”

  “They can’t mean Eleanor from the PIA, can they?” asked Abigail.

  “Cunningham is a common-enough name,” Titus said. “They could be referring to anyone.” The wooden crate marched past them. On its side in large, black letters was the name “E. Cunningham, PIA.”

  “I have a bad feeling we’re talking about the same Cunningham,” murmured Abigail.

  “Why does she need all this anyway?” Johnny returned from the corner where he and his friend deposited the crate. “I’ve worked with transporters moving the same numbers. Didn’t take half of this to keep their stock upright.” He jutted his chin at the crate of cans.

  “We ain’t paid to ask questions,” the second vampire said gruffly. He ducked back into the truck and struggled with a second crate. Its battered condition was the same as that of the previous one. Johnny grabbed it from the opposite side. Together, they continued moving it to the rear of the warehouse.

  “He’s right.” Beller ran a hand over his stubbly chin. He leaned one elbow on the shelf next to Titus and Abigail. “Here, we’re paid to get the job done. Now, quit talking and keep—”

  The second crate didn’t last long enough for him to finish. It burst apart as soon as the second vampire’s boot cleared the tailgate.

  “Bloody sodding hell, you gormless twat!” the second vampire hollered. He fell back as cans tumbled out of the rotted wood.

  “I told you, it weren’t my fault, Lee,” Johnny barked. He ducked the cans Lee chucked at him as he rose from the floor. “Bloody crates gotta be twenty years old.” Together, they tried to hold the crate together with one hand while grabbing at the escaped goods with the other. One can rolled next to Titus’s and Abigail’s feet.

  Beller walked over and bent down to retrieve the can. He stood up slowly and inhaled, then looked to the left and right. He began turning around toward Titus and Abigail. They saw the back of his stained T-shirt, his dirt-smudged hand. Titus could smell the dried blood on his clothes. He dared a glance at Abigail. She was staring straight ahead, wide-eyed, not breathing.

  “What’re you doing, Beller?” Lee asked. “Leave it, for fuck’s sake, and help us out here!” He and Johnny were still struggling to keep the crate together. “This thing’s coming apart like all hell!” Beller sighed. He threw the can over his shoulder and jogged to the truck.

  “Indeed, gentlemen.” Gregson waved his clipboard impatiently at the vampires. “We’re behind schedule as it is.”

  “So, lend a hand, you lazy git,” snarled Beller. He returned from inside the truck with a coil of rope. “We could use a little abracadabra right about now.”

  “I see no reason to do both your job and mine.” Gregson snapped his wrists out. Irritated magic flashed out from his hands. “Especially when I’m only receiving recompense for doing one of them proficiently, while you seem unable to perform yours adequately.”

  “I’ll show you proficient, you snotty piece of—” Beller started. Discreetly, Titus picked up the can of food Beller had discarded. It slipped effortlessly behind the invisibility spell. He held it up to his nose, then quickly shoved it onto the shelf.

  “Spoiled yams,” he coughed.

  “Spoiled . . .” Abigail’s voice drifted off. “I can’t imagine what Cunningham would want with those. And what’s all this talk about ‘transporters’? Moving numbers of what? And what’s it got to do with keeping stock up?”

  “There are myriad ways to manipulate stock markets,” Titus replied. The vampires and Gregson had stopped arguing. The vampires had managed to tie the crate into some semblance of a square again, and were now attempting to carefully maneuver it into a corner. Gregson continued tabulating the contents of the warehouse. They were far enough away that Titus dared raise his voice, but only just. “Perhaps Cunningham has found a magical means of doing so,” he breathed to Abigail.

  Abigail stared at Titus and blinked. “She’s controlling financial markets through rotten vegetables? That doesn’t make any sense. And what were those other goods they unloaded—the first ones? Do you think they’re more monkeys?”

  Titus did not have a chance to answer. “Come on, you lot!” There was a note of urgency in Gregson’s voice. Titus and Abigail turned to see him frowning at his watch. “Quick, quick, now. Get those things to the back where they belong, and keep them out of sight. Then, burn the crates with the boss’s name on them. We only have three days till the real shipment gets here.”

  “Real shipment?” Abigail’s lips barely moved.

  “I doubt rancid yams have a terribly high market value,” Titus replied. “This is likely just a cover for the true goods, whatever they may be.”

  “All right, all right.” Beller said. “Lee, where’s that gasoline you brought earlier? Johnny—where’s that flame-retardant—”

  “Stop,” said Gregson.

  “Eh?” Beller turned to Gregson. “Stop? Why? You was in such a rush not a minute ago.”

  “That hat.” Gregson’s voice was so low, Titus and Abigail barely heard it. They watched as he walked forward, depositing his clipboard and pen on a shelf without even glancing at them. He bent down and picked up the pieces of Titus’s discarded clothing. He levitated the hat in front of him, turning it around and around. The coat he held up by the shoulders as if to help someone don it. “And this coat. They were not here before. I’m certain they were not here before.”

  Titus closed his eyes and thought of a phrase. It was the same phrase Abigail mouthed to herself as her face scrunched up in a wince:

  Oh, shit.

  Chapter 6

  “What?” Beller stomped over to Gregson and grabbed the hat that was hovering in the air. The other vampires looked at each other in confusion. Beller shook the hat hard in Gregson’s face. “Sure this thing was here before.” He looked at the hat again. “At least, I think it was. Besides, how can you tell, what with all the other shit lying around?” He motioned to the tattered uniforms, the dead radios, and other detritus.

  “Those thi
ngs are covered in dust.” Gregson let go of the coat, then snatched it up in one hand. He shook it equally hard at Beller. “This isn’t. It’s covered in . . .” He held the coat up to his face and inhaled. But Titus knew he wasn’t smelling. He was sensing. “Magic,” Gregson finished. “It’s covered in magic.”

  “Sure it is,” Johnny said. “You’s holding it.”

  “Not my magic, you fool,” Gregson snapped. “Some other witch’s. Someone’s here who shouldn’t be.”

  Titus made a decision. The best defense is a good offense. He threw the invisibility spell off himself. No sense in waiting for Gregson to expose him—which he would, in time. A good general always chooses the time and place of battle. He stepped out from behind the shelves.

  “Titus,” Abigail hissed, “what the fu—”

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” he purred.

  Instantly, the three vampires were in front of him. Beller dropped the hat. Gregson dropped the coat as magic flared from his hands.

  “I see you’ve found the remnants of my wardrobe.” Titus raised his eyebrows. “Very good of you. I do hope you’ll remember to have them dry-cleaned.” While he stalled, Titus quickly assessed their powers. The vampires weren’t more than one hundred years old. And the witch wasn’t an ancient. That gave Titus an advantage. Still, the magic Gregson was holding made him a formidable opponent. The force is strong in this one, you might say, Titus thought. He built up magic in his own hands, felt the heat of it traveling up his arms.

  “Who are you?” Gregson demanded.

  “Yeah,” Beller barked. “And where the hell you come from, anyway?”

  “You just appeared out of nowhere,” Johnny said.

  “He used an invisibility spell,” Gregson said in disgust. “He’s been here the whole time, you jackals.”

  Beller turned to Gregson. “Well, excuse us for not being as abracadabra as you,” he sneered.

  Gregson glared at Beller, then turned back to Titus. The magic in his hands sparked and crackled like static electricity. “How long have you been there?” He jutted his chin at the shelf where Titus had been hiding. “What have you heard?”

  Before Titus could reply, one of the cans on the shelf flew out and hit Johnny in the face. He howled, grabbing his broken nose as blood gushed from it. A second can flew out, hitting Lee in the left eye. He screamed as his hands reached for his brow. Titus was about to take advantage of the chaos and eliminate Gregson. But the latter got a keen glint in his eye. He threw his ball of magic at Titus. Only a vampire’s reflexes saved Titus from turning to bacon. He used up all the magic in his hands diffusing the spell. By the time he did, Gregson had dismantled the invisibility glamour. He spotted Abigail and dragged her out by the arm.

  “Let go of me, you son of a bitch!” Abigail snarled.

  Dammit, Titus thought. Women. Always more trouble than they’re worth.

  “Well, look what we have here,” Beller said. “A little baby witch. What’s that about, eh?” He leaned in close. Abigail shrank back in disgust. “Thought you’d practice your can-tossing skills on us?” His gaze fell to his vampire companions. They were both bloodied and glaring murderously at Abigail.

  “Get your damn hands off me!” Abigail wrenched her arm out of Gregson’s grasp, sending a burst of painful magic through his fingers. Gregson cried out.

  Attagirl! Titus thought before he could stop himself.

  Beller hooted. “Tough words from such a tiny thing.”

  Johnny snickered. “She won’t look so tough when they find pieces of her body all over the docks.”

  Titus turned his head sharply toward Johnny. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “Why not?” asked Johnny.

  “Because I will pull your brain out through your nasal cavity,” Titus snapped. Again, the words came to him before he knew why. If this woman were more proficient in magic, I’d swear she’s casting a spell on me. Abigail managed to stand next to him. He turned to her. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded.

  “That it wasn’t my hat that got us in trouble,” she muttered.

  Every hair on Titus’s body bristled. “You should’ve just stayed quiet and let me handle this.”

  “Your idea of ‘handling it’ was about to get very messy in a minute.”

  “I was strategizing, woman! Have you never heard of battle tactics?”

  Lee’s hand dropped away from his blackened, bloodshot eye. “So, that’s why you’ve got balls, lady.” He looked Titus up and down, sensing the weight of his years. “Your lover’s an ancient.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Titus started, “but I am not her—”

  “Psssh.” Abigail blew a breath that lifted a curl off her forehead. “Lover? He should be so lucky.”

  “Excuse m—” Titus turned to her again.

  “What’s your business here?” Gregson’s voice was loud and commanding as he massaged his injured hand. His eyes went to slits as they darted between Titus and Abigail. Titus knew Gregson was trying to read their minds. He frowned when he couldn’t read Abigail’s. He winced when he tried to read Titus’s.

  Serves you right, you little bastard. Titus smirked. Painful magic pulsed out from the shield on his mind. He could sense the vampires trying to read his and Abigail’s thoughts as well. Each time, Titus sent the same splintering pain to stop them. A quick perusal of Gregson and his band’s own thoughts yielded nothing. Like Titus’s, theirs were well-guarded.

  “Our business?” repeated Abigail. “Our business is that we want to know what you’re really doing here, and why it involves Eleanor Cunningham.”

  Titus looked from Gregson and his gang to Abigail and back again. “No,” he said, “we don’t.” We just want to get out of here alive. For once, he desperately wished she could read his mind. Their original mission was impossible now. Why can’t she see that? The two wounded vampires were already healing. Soon, they would have no injuries to distract them if things came to a fight.

  Gregson’s face went stone-cold. “I have no idea how you found out about Eleanor Cunningham. Or how you found us. But she is none of your concern. Neither is our presence here. No matter.” He snapped his fingers at the vampires. They obeyed his unspoken command, and for once, did not question him. Johnny and Lee flanked Titus and Abigail in an instant. Beller stood, arms folded, next to Gregson. “You won’t live to tell anyone about either.”

  “’Bout time,” Johnny muttered. “I was hungry when I started this job.” He licked his lips, his eyes running all over Abigail. “Think I’ll take the small, curly one as an appetizer.”

  “As I said, my friend,” Titus growled in his general’s voice, “unwise.” It was enough to make Johnny step away from Abigail. But Titus knew it wouldn’t be enough to permanently dissuade the vampires from feasting on them. Not with Gregson in charge.

  “Fine.” Lee looked a little too long at the thin veneer of Abigail’s blouse. “We’ll just have a bit of fun, then, eh?” He smirked at Titus. “You can watch, if you like.”

  “Put your hands on her,” Titus replied, “and I’ll tear them off, along with anything else you touch her with.”

  “Yeah, I’m not really in the mood for romance right now.” Abigail gave Titus a knowing look and ran her fingers over the brim of her hat. “Not so much afire with passion.” Titus stared back at Abigail like she’d lost her mind.

  But her gestures did not go unnoticed by Gregson. He sighed. “Look, I don’t know what you two were planning, but burning this place is not going to—”

  Quicker than Titus thought possible, Abigail tore off her hat. With a flick of her wrist, she threw it in Beller’s face. Titus’s eyes widened as he recognized her coded message. He narrowed his eyes at the hat, and it burst into flames.

  Beller’s screams could’ve cut glass. Abigail’s face twisted in pain at the sound. She covered her ears. Johnny and Lee looked around frantically, then grabbed tarps and rushed to Be
ller, trying to smother the flames. Titus took Abigail in his arms. He began flying to the rear of the warehouse.

  “MY FACE!” Beller roared. “MY FUCKING FACE!”

  If we can just make it to the back door, thought Titus.

  “Leave him, you fools!” Gregson yelled. He quickly magicked oxygen away from the flames. It put out the fire that was eating Beller. “They’re getting away!” He shot a blast of air magic at the back door. It exploded, leaving behind a mountain of rubble that barred any exit. Titus, still cradling Abigail, only just managed to dodge the blast. They took cover behind a ceiling-high stack of crates. Titus shielded Abigail with his body as chunks of mortar and concrete rained onto them.

  “Christ!” Abigail exclaimed as he set her down and stood up. She leaned on the crate with one hand and put the other to her chest. “Told you that hat would come in handy,” she gasped. “I trust you’ll never criticize my attire again.”

  It took every ounce of Titus’s mental strength not to rip her head off.

  I don’t have time to tear her limb from limb right now, he told himself. He flattened his back against the crates and peered behind him as far as he dared. The crates gave some cover, but now, their enemies blocked the only exit. He could probably magic a hole in the walls or roof, but it would take time. The vampires—or Gregson—would be on him before he could finish and escape. It would also leave Abigail exposed.

  Which might not be such a bad thing.

  Steady, Titus. Steady. You might still need her meager powers to get out of this. That is, if she didn’t make the situation worse.

  “Knock it off, you gobshites!” Beller screamed. He pushed Johnny and Lee away with such force, they knocked over a shelf full of paint thinner cans. The cans hit the floor and broke open; a sickly-sweet scent filled the air. But high above that rose the smell of burned skin and muscle.

  Beller tore the tarps off himself, revealing an angry mess of red and black slices where his face had been. “Get them, you stupid sods!” He pointed a singed finger in Titus and Abigail’s direction. “Them! They’s the bastards that did this to me!”