Mag Subject 6 (Mags & Nats Book 2)

by Stephanie Fazio

  “Well that’s…disturbing,” Graysen said, stepping back so he was between me and my new biggest fan.

  “You mean to tell me you haven’t already tattooed Kaira’s face on yourself?” Bri asked him. She tsked. “Kaira, I think you need a guy who has properly demonstrated his affection.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I replied, distracted by the way tattoo guy was rippling his muscles. He was making the lips of my tattoo look like they were puckering for a kiss.

  I gave the man a weak thumbs-up, because it was clear he was waiting for some kind of positive reaction.

  “I guess I can’t blame the guy.” Graysen raised an eyebrow as he openly checked me out. “You’re smokin’ hot.”

  “It’s the outfit,” A.J. said with confidence.

  I did feel pretty powerful in the blazer-and-pencil skirt ensemble Yutika had designed for me. The skirt’s elegant pleats gave extra shape to my hips, since I didn’t have much in the way of curves. My body maintained its ballerina shape even though I hadn’t danced in years. In fact, the only exercise I seemed to get these days involved either running toward or away from danger.

  Which was to say I was in the best shape of my life.

  Graysen reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together. It was such a small gesture for most couples that it probably didn’t even register to everyone else. Not so for us.

  For all the years we’d been breaking the third high law by loving each other, Gray and I couldn’t so much as look at each other in public. Until last week, any kind of romantic relationship between a Mag and a Nat carried a penalty of execution. The fact that we were holding hands in front of hundreds of people showed how far our city had come.

  It gave me hope for us, for the family I hoped we would have one day, and for all the other people out there like us.

  My optimism retreated as quickly as it had come. The closer we got to the courthouse entrance, the less friendly the faces became.

  We made it to the front of Unity Courthouse, which was where the Alliance tried all of the highest Magic and Natural crimes. Our friends fanned out, providing an extra layer of protection between us and the crowd.

  The wooden barricades the police had set up to block the onlookers from our path were seeming flimsier by the second.

  Beside me, I felt Gray tense. I looked at him and then followed the direction of his stare. My stomach flipped.

  There was a group of people standing behind the barricade nearest to the courthouse entrance. They were protesting…us. Specifically, mine and Gray’s relationship.

  “Baby killers!” one of them shouted.

  The cry was taken up by others.

  Gray gripped my hand more tightly as those awful words ricocheted around in my brain.

  “Haven’t these idiots been listening to the news?” Yutika demanded. Loud enough for the protesters to hear, she shouted, “DAMND isn’t real!”

  Either the protesters didn’t hear her or didn’t care. The wooden barricades bowed and scraped against the pavement as people surged against them. The cops were doing everything they could to hold back the tide, but there weren’t enough of them.

  “You’re disgusting!” someone called.

  “Mag whore!” a man yelled.

  Graysen dropped my hand and started for the man.

  Michael grabbed Graysen’s arm before I could say anything, positioning his big body between Gray and the Nat who was now calling me a Mag slut.

  At least the man wasn’t limited by a narrow vocabulary.

  “We’re right outside the courthouse,” Michael said in a low voice that was barely audible over the jeers. “This is not the place to start something.”

  “But if you want to,” Bri flexed her arms, “I’ll be right behind you.” She brushed against me, and I felt the cold titanium of her skin.

  “I could get the van and mow him down,” Yutika offered.

  “You’d be more likely to mow us down with your driving skills,” Smith told her.

  Yutika stuck out her tongue.

  Smith said to Graysen, “I already killed the security cameras around here, so you won’t have to worry about evidence.”

  “There are a thousand eye-witnesses,” Michael argued. To Gray, he said, “It’s not worth it.”

  I was too overwhelmed to be offended by the protesters. I had never been surrounded by so many people. And all of their attention was on me.

  This was nothing like captivating an audience’s attention during a ballet performance. This was more of an animal at the zoo kind of situation.

  I’d been nervous enough before. Now, it took all of my courage not to sprint back to the van.

  Graysen looked at me. His expression was as full of fury as I’d ever seen it.

  We’d expected a backlash after we told everyone about our mixed Nat-Mag relationship. But I’d hoped—

  Graysen’s sharply-defined jaw was tight with strain. From the stiff way he held himself, I knew he was about two seconds away from going after the Nat in the crowd and pummeling him into oblivion.

  “Listen to me, kittens,” A.J. said, pulling Graysen and me under the courthouse’s archway. “Let me tell you a little something about how prejudice works. Haters love to hate. Something as insignificant as the truth isn’t going to change their opinions.” A.J. took both of our chins in his hands, which was awkward, since we were both taller. “Don’t let anyone shame you. And leave the bodyguarding to Bri.”

  “We’ve got your back,” Bri said.

  As if to prove her point, she jabbed her foot at a protester who got too close. I’d hidden her titanium skin beneath an illusion, but the man must have felt that she was no ordinary bodyguard. In spite of her light touch, the protester flew back, taking several others down with him.

  “My bad,” Bri called.

  Letting out a breath and squaring my shoulders, I reached deep inside myself for some semblance of calm. To Graysen, I said, “We knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Sticks and stones, right?”

  Graysen’s stormy expression softened.

  “You’re right.” Gray sighed, and then he brightened. He said, “How about we really give these people something to complain about?”

  Before I could respond, Gray swept me into his arms.

  “You’ll wrinkle her!” A.J. shrieked.

  Graysen ignored him. He spun us in a circle before pressing his lips to mine.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he murmured when I pulled back after a light brush.

  He deepened the kiss until everything else faded away.

  It didn’t matter that I’d been making out with this man since I was fourteen years old. I would never get used to the feeling. There was the heat and strength of his body, and the softness of his lips. I’d never felt like I belonged anywhere more than in his arms.

  We tore ourselves apart before our brains short-circuited. Gray lowered me slowly. It was only when I turned around that reality came crashing back.

  I felt Graysen’s sharp inhale against my back.

  We were surrounded by about a hundred objects frozen in mid-air. The protesters had thrown shoes, garbage, and even rotten tomatoes. A.J. was holding everything in place so the objects didn’t reach us, making me feel like we were in some kind of garbage snow globe.

  “Barbarians!” Yutika shouted. She grabbed one of the tomatoes out of the air and hurled it back into the crowd.

  “Not helping,” Michael told her calmly, stopping her before she did the same with a soda can.

  “I think we better go in before this crowd escalates to assassination attempts,” Bri said.

  “Or worse,” Smith added. “They start getting curious about who the rest of us really are.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The inside of the courthouse was just as packed as it had been out on the street. There was a large group of Nats who were protesting the use of magic in public places. It was a small contingency in Boston, but there were parts of the country where Nats still belie
ved Mags weren’t human.

  That absurd argument had led to the Slaughters, which resulted in hundreds of thousands of deaths. After the Slaughters, the country was split up into separate territories that were ruled by a single Mag or Nat.

  Some territories, like the whole of Hawaii, were relatively stable. Hawaii’s Nat ruler was a dictator, but her harsh laws had ended most of the violence. Then, there were places like Detroit and the entire state of California. Neither of those territories had ever really recovered from the Slaughters. Gangs, scavengers, and constant territory battles had ravished them. Anyone who had the ability to flee had done so years ago.

  Only Boston was different.

  As deep as my issues with the Alliance ran, I couldn’t deny that it was the sole reason why Boston was so much better than the rest of the country.

  Not to be outdone by the protesting Nats, another group faced off against them.

  Members of the UnAllied, the group that wanted Mags to use their abilities to enslave Nats, were protesting their leader’s arrest. Valencia Stark was a Rain Maker with unfortunate wardrobe choices and a penchant for public temper tantrums. She was also on trial alongside Remwald. Her followers were holding up signs with their usual bigoted rhetoric.

  Alliance = Nat slavery was a favorite. So was Give Galder the Chair.

  I turned my attention elsewhere before I pounced on one of the protesters. Michael was right—we were treading on thin ice as it was. There was no need to stir the pot by starting a cat fight with these degenerates. So, I focused my attention on the wall of glass windows that faced out to the Boston Harbor and city skyline.

  Unity Courthouse was an iconic building both architecturally and historically. It had been built long before the Alliance was instituted thirty years ago, but since then, it had become the place where all magic-related legislation came into being. Unity Courthouse was also one of the most beautiful buildings in the city.

  “I love that smell,” Graysen said, inhaling as he leaned over the railing and looked out at the harbor.

  “You mean dirty mop water?” Bri asked. “I’m partial to vanilla. But to each her own.”

  Smiling, Gray shook his head. “Law texts. Have you ever noticed the way they smell different from other books?”

  “Can’t say that I have,” I replied, amused.

  “Say ‘cashew cheese,’” A.J. announced.

  I looked up in time to be blinded by the flash from his phone’s camera. As a passionate vegan, A.J. took issue with even saying the word cheese. Or anything else un-vegan, for that matter.

  “For your social media sites,” A.J. explained. “I’m going to make you love birds famous!”

  “They’re already famous, dumbass,” Smith told him.

  “United by the law, allied in our purpose,” Graysen murmured. He was still looking out the wall of glass, repeating the quote posted on the wall behind him.

  “You are such a geek,” Bri said, nudging Graysen with her elbow.

  “Like a kid in a candy shop,” Yutika added.

  A small stab of emotion went through me…a niggling insecurity.

  This building was where Graysen belonged. It was where he would have spent his days if he’d graduated from the BSMU and taken the job he’d been offered before his life turned upside down.

  He’d dreamed of being an Alliance lawyer. He’d been working toward that goal for most of his life, and in just a few short weeks, it had slipped through his fingers. Even though Gray was cleared of the murders he had been arrested for, his career in the Magical Law branch was over before it began. The Alliance didn’t want someone who had broken a high law, no matter how stupid and wrong it was.

  I knew a part of Graysen grieved for that lost future, even though he’d never admit it. And I hated that, despite everything I’d done to prevent it, Gray had been forced to choose between the Alliance and me. The fact that he’d chosen me didn’t make me feel better about him needing to sacrifice his dreams.

  We were absorbed into the tide of people making their way up the eight flights of stairs to the largest courtroom in the building.

  “This is where we leave you,” I told the rest of the Seven.

  Since Remwald was a powerful Animate Illusionist like me, we would cancel out each other’s magic. My friends’ illusions would fall away as soon as Remwald and I were in the same room.

  “This one’s empty,” Michael said, inclining his head at a closed door.

  “Shout if you need us,” Bri said, giving the door a casual yank that snapped the lock. “We’ll just be playing Bingo while you two do all the work.”

  “Good luck.” A.J. winked at us before sauntering into the room after Bri.

  “Just make it quick,” Smith said, tugging up the hood of the sweatshirt he was wearing beneath his illusion. “Being this close to Alliance surveillance equipment gives me hives.”

  I let my friends’ illusions fall away as soon as they were enclosed in the empty room.

  As a Level 10 Animate Illusionist, most aspects of my magic came easily to me. I could even control my illusions without being close enough to see them, as long as it was within a mile or so. Most Animate Illusionists didn’t have that ability, and so it had come as a surprise to my family when they discovered how strong I was.

  I vividly remembered the time I’d illusioned my two younger cousins into hairy wildebeest. It had been a petty act of revenge after they’d put shaving cream in my favorite pair of shoes.

  My cousins had assumed they could just leave the house and the illusion would disappear. So, they’d stormed outside without apologizing…and given the neighbors the scare of their lives.

  Ma had been inundated with calls from the zoo and Animal Control for weeks afterward, until she finally convinced them we weren’t actually keeping wildebeest in our small house.

  That was how my family learned that I could hold my illusions over distance. And how my cousins learned that payback was a bitch.

  As Graysen crossed the hall, his confident gait hitched. I caught the flash of pain across his face before he hid it. I felt rather than saw his body stiffen.

  “Just my knee,” he said in response to the worry that must be creasing my brow. “I’ll be fine in a sec.”

  Damnit. Why hadn’t I remembered ibuprofen?

  Yutika could create some, but I didn’t offer to ask her. Gray hated drawing attention to his disease and being fussed over.

  Graysen had lupus, which affected his joints and was the reason why he was sweating right now even though the building was air-conditioned. I didn’t need to feel his skin to know he was burning up from a fever. The only things that helped were ibuprofen, hot baths, and sleep. Since none of those were an option at the moment, I just stood beside him and waited. The hallway had mostly emptied out except for some stragglers.

  After another few moments passed, Gray squared his shoulders and nodded to me.

  Everyone inside the courtroom made way for the two of us. Some of their expressions were full of respect. Others held only loathing.

  We walked right to the front like we owned the place. Just because I was quaking in my four-inch, sexy-as-hell black heels, it didn’t mean I was going to let anyone else know it.

  “Ah, our man and woman of the hour.”

  Dr. Pruwist, the interim Alliance Director, rose from the prosecutor’s table at the front of the room. He shook our hands.

  Dr. Pruwist was the former president of the BSMU, otherwise known as the Boston School of Magical Union. He was a Nat and looked the part of a university president-turned-Director. His hair had been artfully arranged to hide his receding hairline. He wore square-framed glasses and had what appeared to be a ketchup stain on the lapel of his gray suit.

  Dr. Pruwist smiled as he chatted easily with Graysen. Even though he’d been reasonable in our dealings with him over the last week, I couldn’t bring myself to trust the man. Back when we’d tried to tell him our working theory that Valencia Stark was trying to disb
and the Alliance, Pruwist had only cared about the university looking bad.

  “Get your hands off me!” a hostile voice shouted.

  We all turned to see Valencia Stark being escorted into the courtroom through a side door.

  Valencia’s orange cheetah-print dress clashed with her frizzy red hair. Her thick-lensed glasses made her look owl-eyed and reduced the potency of her scowl. The only part that was missing from her classic ensemble was the giant leopard-print purse she always carried with her. I wondered if—her arrest aside—she’d stopped using it after Graysen managed to slip a tracker inside. The reminder tugged my lips into a smile.

  Valencia raised her cuffed hands and gave Graysen and me the finger.

  Classy.

  “I don’t think she likes us,” Graysen whispered in my ear, before contorting his features into a pout.

  I muffled a laugh.

  Valencia had been so close to getting everything she’d ever wanted. And then we’d taken it all away from her.

  Graysen had figured out that Edwardian Remwald and Valencia Stark were coordinating the murders in Boston to initiate an obscure Alliance law. According to the provision, a majority vote could dissolve the Alliance if there were enough magically-motivated murders in a confined period.

  In the last week, the Alliance had frozen that particular article of the Report of Laws.

  A hush fell over the room as ex-Director Edwardian Remwald was brought in.

  He and Valencia clearly hadn’t coordinated their outfits. Remwald was wearing a tailored navy suit. With the exception of the salt-and-pepper beard he’d grown in the last week, his arrest hadn’t altered his appearance.

  I knew it was him, but just to make sure, I tried illusioning a woman at the back of the crowd.

  An uncomfortable ripple passed through me. The woman’s appearance remained exactly the same.

  It was disconcerting to be unable to use my magic, but still, it was good news. This was really and truly Remwald.

  We all stood when the judge entered the room. She was a thin black woman with a cap of black hair. She looked like a younger version of my Grandma Tashi, complete with the no-bullshit gleam in her eyes.