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

by Ilana Waters

  I know that place, he thought to Abigail. It’s not far from the warehouse we burned down.

  “Same time as before,” Cunningham said. “Ten o’clock.”

  “Yeah, the sooner the better, if Your Highness don’t mind.” Carver turned to Cunningham. “Me and the others wanna get paid.”

  “And you will get paid,” Cunningham said. “But only if there are no further cock-ups.” She buried her head in her hands. “Honestly, what were you thinking, labeling the crates with my name?”

  Carver shrugged. “It weren’t you full name.”

  Cunningham threw out her arms. “I don’t want any part of my identity associated with what’s going on! I’m just lucky Cunningham is a common surname. Even if it slipped the police’s notice, do you know what my superiors at the PIA would do to me if they found out?”

  “Oh, look who’s gone and admitted she has superiors, now.” Brandy’s voice was deliberately too high. “And here we was thinking you were as top-shelf as it goes.”

  “Just. Do. Your. Jobs,” Cunningham said through gritted teeth. “And let me worry about mine. So, tomorrow night, ten o’clock. The only thing that changes is the venue. See if you all can make it there without stumbling over your own stupidity.”

  Sybil slipped the piece of paper down the front of her dress. “You know, I only entered into this partnership because your antiquities dealing was a good cover for a more profitable business,” she said to Cunningham.

  “I am fully aware of that, thank you,” Cunningham replied.

  “However,” Sybil placed both hands on her hips, “I did not agree to take orders from someone who looks down her nose at me. And a mortal, no less.” She glanced at the vampires. “Perhaps this was a mistake to begin with. Or perhaps you have outlived your usefulness.” Sybil held her hands in the air. Magic crackled around them. The vampires grinned at each other and licked their lips.

  Cunningham was unfazed. She stepped in front of Sybil till they were practically nose to nose. “I assure you, I plan to live a great deal longer. And as for being useful, don’t forget who organized this whole thing. Who is set to make you more money than you ever dreamed. Who has vision. All the spoils are ours for the taking if we can just get this thing off the ground. But remember: there are lives at stake. We can’t afford any more losses.”

  Titus and Abigail glanced at each other. What does she mean, “lives are at stake”? Abigail asked. Whose lives? Get what off the ground?

  Titus gestured helplessly at the other supernaturals. Your guess is as good as mine.

  Sybil looked from Cunningham to Brandy and Carver, then shook her head at them. The vampires’ faces fell. Sybil put her hands down, the magic around them fading. “All right,” she said. “Agreed. For now. But we need to ensure there is no further interference from anyone else—mortal, witch, or any combination thereof.”

  “Damn right.” Carver spat again. “She’s coming between us and the blunt.”

  Brandy turned to Cunningham. “You said you might have an inkling of who it is?”

  “I might.” Cunningham folded her arms and tapped her foot on the stone. “If only I knew where she was at the moment.” Her gaze wandered around the clock tower. Abigail swore in her mind.

  I think we just figured out what the trap is, Titus said. You’re really in trouble now, young lady. Abigail looked daggers at him.

  “Well, we need to find her.” Sybil tried to peer out of the clock face, but the opaque glass was impossible to see through. “And fast. I still can’t believe I haven’t heard of her before this. Who’s powerful enough to take down a witch like Gregson—and three of them?” She pointed to the vampires.

  “Word on the street is an ancient’s just come in,” Carver said. “Titus Aurelius was spotted last night downtown.” Titus’s face froze.

  Abigail smirked. Looks like I’m not the only one in trouble. Maybe going to Nicander’s wasn’t such a great idea, she thought to him.

  Well, it can hardly be helped now, can it? he shot back.

  Brandy let out a low whistle. “The Titus Aurelius?”

  Carver nodded. “That’s the rumor. He’s got power. Maybe he and this witch are in it together.”

  Cunningham made a choking sound.

  You think she knows? asked Abigail. Before Titus could answer, Brandy spoke again.

  “All the more reason to take out the meddler,” she said. “I mean, the old bird’s right.” Brandy jutted her chin at Cunningham. “This is getting outta hand.” Cunningham glowered at Brandy.

  “Are you mad?” Sybil asked in disbelief. “If Titus—or any ancient—is with her, killing her could provoke retaliation.”

  “Maybe he’s using her for something.” Carver rubbed his chin. “Maybe she’s his next chosen vampire.”

  “Or lover, for all we know,” said Sybil.

  “Lover,” Cunningham scoffed. “That’ll be the day. I can’t imagine a more unlikely pair. Still,” she steepled her fingers, “if Titus Aurelius is involved, best to tread carefully. Ancients aren’t easy to kill, as you well know. And if this . . . person is under his protection, the most appropriate solution is to make her death look like an accident. She’s still partly mortal, after all. Mortals can fall prey to any number of unfortunate events. It is simply a matter of arranging one.” Abigail narrowed her eyes to slits and opened her mouth to speak.

  Don’t. Titus put his cool hand over her warm one. They’ll hear us. Abigail was breathing heavier now, her face white with rage.

  Sybil stroked one long, copper-colored tress with her fingers. “I don’t know how simple it’ll be. This witch has already survived a fire, not to mention that pub explosion you were talking about. I can’t imagine how you’re planning on killing her, but it won’t be easy.”

  Cunningham gave a chilling smile. “Nothing worth doing ever is.” She frowned at her watch. “Almost a quarter past. Where the hell . . .” She puckered her brow at the door.

  Brandy clucked her tongue. “What is it now?”

  Cunningham waited a moment before answering. “Nothing,” she finally said.

  “No, I sense it, too.” Sybil tilted her head in Abigail and Titus’s direction. “There’s someone else here.”

  Blast, Titus thought. This isn’t working. Listen, Abigail, we’re going to have to—

  That bitch, Abigail thought. Titus looked at her in alarm. Magic was rising from her shoulders, like wisps of smoke. It was invisible to the others, like the rest of her. But not for long. Titus could feel it growing stronger.

  She set me up. Abigail clenched her fists, and the magic grew brighter, hotter. I knew she was conniving, but siccing a bunch of vampires on me? If she thinks I’m taking that lying down, she’s got another think coming! Abigail pushed her body away from the wall.

  Titus grabbed her arm; her magic was almost hot enough to burn him. What are you doing? he hissed. You’re walking right into her trap!

  No, she’s walking right into mine. Abigail held up her bag. Besides, I have a secret weapon with me: you.

  Even if I’d a mind to defend your lunatic recklessness, it’s two vampires and a witch, plus Cunningham. He motioned to them. We’re outnumbered.

  We were outnumbered at the pub—and the warehouse—and we came out just fine.

  Titus shook his head rapidly. We were lucky.

  No, Abigail said, we were smart. And brave. So, if you don’t have the guts—

  If I don’t what?

  —if you can’t see this through, then I will! She jerked her arm out of his grasp, threw the invisibility spell off herself, and stepped right in front of Cunningham.

  Chapter 12

  Oh bloody, bloody hell, thought Titus.

  The quarter bells tolled. Cries of surprise went up from the vampires, Sybil, and Cunningham.

  “What the bugger—”

  “Where’d she come from?”

  “Fate be damned—”

  Cun
ningham took a step back from Abigail, her confederates behind her. For a moment, one heel caught on a crack in the stone, but she quickly regained her balance.

  “You!” she snarled, pointing at Abigail. “It’s her! The one I was telling you about! She’s been here the whole time, spying on us. Well, what are you waiting for?” She gestured impatiently to the others. “Now’s your chance. Get her!”

  The sound of the bells faded, but Titus’s heart beat faster. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, he thought. His eyes darted from Abigail to Cunningham to the supernaturals. He was caught in a rare moment of indecision. Do I stay where I am, invisible, and protect myself? Or do I reveal all to defend Abigail, and possibly get killed? His body was one long, tense wire, ready to spring, or snap.

  “I’m here because you told me to be here.” Magic encircled Abigail’s hands, and Titus saw the same rise from the other witch. “Albeit, a few minutes after midnight, when you’d be meeting these other miscreants.”

  She’s mad, Titus thought. My partner in crime is a madwoman. I can’t believe it’s come to this.

  “Hey, who are you calling a miscreant?” Carver demanded. Both vampires’ lips were curled back. Titus could feel everyone’s blood pumping.

  Abigail ignored Carver. “Told me to come late on purpose,” she repeated. “And now I know why. So you could pose me as the threat. Get them to take me out.”

  I can eliminate one of the vampires, maybe both, thought Titus. But by then, the witch would have the upper hand on him. Abigail would likely have her plate full fighting Cunningham. Dammit. There’s no easy way out of here.

  “She’s lying!” Cunningham motioned frantically to Abigail. Her accomplices cast doubtful looks. “Oh, come now!” Cunningham said. “That much is obvious.”

  “Ow!” Abigail winced, and put one hand to her temple. “Nice try.” She pursed her lips at Sybil and the vampires. “But none of you jackhats is getting into my head.”

  “She knows how to guard her thoughts!” Cunningham was practically shrieking. “Clearly, she knew about this supernatural meeting place beforehand.” She gestured adamantly toward Abigail. “You saw how she lay in wait for us.”

  “Not for them, Cunningham,” Abigail said. “Only for you. So I could use this.” She whipped a large handheld mirror out of her tote bag. Woven all around it were real leaves and vines, which seemed to shimmer in the light of the clock tower. But that paled in comparison to the glow from the mirror itself, which cast an eerie, yellow-greenish light on Cunningham. Sybil narrowed her eyes at the mirror and leaned back. The magic in her hands flickered. Then, below them in the stairwell, Titus heard something he wished he hadn’t.

  “Damn that blasted car. I’m sorry, Richard. I really thought it would hold up a bit longer.” The voice was gruff and scratchy. A middle-aged man. “Bloody typical it breaks down just when you need it, eh? Now, we’re good and late.” The magic in the air crackled and fizzed, like static. “Wait—what’s that noise?” Now, the scratchy voice was filled with concern. “Do you hear voices? What the devil’s going on up there?”

  “I don’t know, Arthur.” This voice was younger, worried. More hesitant. “Sounds like magic to me. Maybe we shouldn’t go up. Let’s just stop here. I knew this was a mistake.”

  “What if it’s Abigail? She could be in trouble.”

  “What if she’s the one causing trouble?”

  “Richard Grant, get your skinny arse up there before I kick it!” Arthur barked. “Our comrade may be in danger, and I’ll be hanged if something happens to her on my watch!”

  Two men burst into the room. Their ages were about what Titus expected. The older man wore a cardigan, the younger one a thick pair of glasses. These are the PIA colleagues Abigail was going on about? They didn’t look like much.

  Abigail whirled around. “Shit. What are you two doing here?”

  Sybil saw her opportunity. She sent a burst of magic—like a streak of angry lightning—toward Abigail, who turned around just in time to block it with the mirror. It winged back toward Sybil, who ducked. The magic hit the stone corner behind her, barely missing the clock face. Sparks scattered across the floor. The two vampires cried out.

  “Watch it, you idiot!” Brandy snapped at Sybil. “You almost made her hit us with that thing!”

  Cunningham seized her chance and inched away from Sybil and the vampires. As if she hadn’t just been plotting with them for a solid quarter hour.

  “Arthur! Richard!” She sounded breathless with fear. “Oh, thank God! No, wait. Go. Turn back. Save yourselves. It’s . . . it’s too late for me!” She choked out the last word.

  “Nonsense, Eleanor.” Arthur’s voice was filled with resolve. “We’ll not leave you.”

  “That’s right.” Richard balled his fists and held them up. Titus almost burst out laughing. What does he think that’s going to accomplish? Titus could feel their hearts pounding, the blood rushing through their veins. “I . . . we’ve no idea what you’re doing here,” his brow furrowed in confusion, “but it doesn’t matter.” He turned to the supernaturals, including Abigail. “Now, let her go. All of you.”

  “Yes, please!” Cunningham begged, trembling. “Just let me go. I’m sorry I tried to spy on you,” she sobbed. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. Just let me—us—” she motioned to Arthur and Richard, “—go.”

  Those two gents assume she was kidnapped, Titus realized. And she’s playing along. He nodded thoughtfully. Well done. Sybil and the vampires were looking at Cunningham like she was possessed. But the male mortals didn’t seem to notice.

  “Jesus,” Richard whispered, getting a good look at Carver and Brandy for the first time. “Wait—are those real . . .”

  “Yes.” Arthur’s expression was grim. “Dammit, we should’ve brought our crossbows.”

  “Why?” Richard asked him. “They wouldn’t stop a supernatural.”

  “No,” said Arthur, “but it might slow them down.”

  “Not long enough for you.” Carver fixed his eyes on Arthur’s jugular.

  “Arthur, Richard, for Christ’s sake, get out before you get yourselves killed!” Abigail was still brandishing the mirror at Cunningham. “How’d you get in, anyway?”

  “We told the guard we were with you.” Arthur jutted his chin at her. “Now, I see what a mistake that was. We never should have trusted you.”

  Abigail shook her head grimly. “That’s where you’re wrong, Arthur. It’s Cunningham you can’t trust. She’s been lying to you this whole time.”

  “That’s not true!” Cunningham insisted. “I sent Abigail here because I knew she was up to something.”

  Sybil blinked several times. “That’s not what you told us—”

  “Abigail?” Brandy repeated to Carver. “Does she mean the curly one in the corner?”

  “But I should’ve known better than to try and expose her betrayal on my own,” Cunningham continued. She glanced at Sybil and the vampires, then to Arthur and Richard, her words equally applicable to both. “I should’ve told you what was going on.” She looked plaintively at her colleagues around the room, voice filled with regret.

  “If by ‘up to something,’ you mean ‘turning magic,’ then okay,” Abigail said. “I don’t deny it.”

  “You see?” Cunningham thrust her hand at Abigail. Even Titus couldn’t tell if she was addressing Sybil and the vampires, or Arthur and Richard.

  Clever, clever woman, thought Titus.

  “But you should’ve thought that part through a little more.” Abigail gave Cunningham a wry smile. “See, I’ve been doing a little digging in those books you wanted me to organize. It seems there are certain spells you can do to get someone to tell the truth. Like this one.” She shook the mirror, and the light it cast on Cunningham grew brighter.

  Cunningham’s face paled. “You can’t possibly—”

  “It gets better,” Abigail interrupted. “Not only does the mirror make you tell the truth, it
captures the confession. Sort of like a paranormal tape recorder. Now,” she tightened her grip on the mirror, “you’re going to look into my tape recorder and confess exactly what you’ve been up to. Then, I’m taking it back to the rest of the PIA, so that they’ll all know what a lying sleaze-weasel you are.”

  She’s only known she’s a witch for three days, and she’s already casting spells on mirrors? Titus could feel the power emanating from it in waves.

  “You’re assuming you’ll leave here in one piece.” Sybil set her jaw and raised her fists. Magic flared from them, glowing steady and bright. “What makes you think we’ll let you live?” she asked Abigail. Titus felt magic flare around his own body, the wire tension inside pulled tauter.

  “Yeah,” Carver said. “Especially after that crap you pulled with Gregson and his lot.”

  “Who the hell is Gregson?” Arthur demanded. Richard’s face was crumpled in confusion.

  “You almost cost us our entire enterprise,” Brandy said to Abigail.

  “Which is what, exactly?” Abigail ignored the threats and shook the mirror at Cunningham. She took a step toward the older woman, who, for once, looked cowed. “You’re going to talk, or magic is going to make you talk.”

  “I . . . I . . .” Cunningham put her hand to her head and stared into the glowing glass. The witches and other vampires raised their eyebrows, looking keenly at the mirror.

  “Can it really do that?” Carver asked Sybil.

  “Yeah, get her to tell the truth?” Brandy jutted her chin at the mirror. “What if she has been lying to us?”

  But Sybil didn’t get a chance to answer. Cunningham slitted her eyes at the mirror. Her nostrils flared. She took a deep breath and ground her teeth. Then, she let out a growl that ended in a gasp. The mirror’s light pulsed on and off, then faded to a quiet glow. Cunningham was drenched in perspiration. She turned her hateful eyes to Abigail.

  Sybil nodded thoughtfully. “She resisted the spell. Impressive.” Titus agreed.