Mag Subject 6 (Mags & Nats Book 2)

by Stephanie Fazio

  “It is my business,” I insisted, not allowing him to bully me into leaving before I’d accomplished what I came here to do. “I’m in love with your son, and I can’t stand to see him in pain. By not speaking to him, you’re hurting him.” I took a breath. “I’m here to figure out what needs to change so you can be the father he needs.”

  “The damage has been done,” Joseph said, heading for the door. “This isn’t just about Graysen betraying my trust. He’s become a criminal, and I can’t tolerate that.”

  That was when my careful plan for a peaceful conflict resolution crumbled. The famous Hansley temper that everyone thought had skipped over me flared to life.

  “You know,” I said, crossing my arms and holding my ground. “You throw around a lot of shade, considering what a shitty father you were.”

  Yep, I went there. I knew I’d kick myself for it later, but at the moment, I was too pissed to care.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me.” I gave Joseph Galder’s glare right back to him. “You lived to work, and you were never home. You were so wrapped up in yourself that you never bothered to really get to know your son.”

  “I know my son—”

  “Gray and I have been together since he was twelve. Did you know that?”

  I didn’t need to see Joseph Galder’s face blanch to confirm what I already knew.

  “You missed weekends, holidays, and even a couple of his birthdays,” I continued.

  And Gray never complained. Not once.

  “You have no right to be ashamed of Graysen,” I told Joseph, breezing past him. “The only person you should be blaming is yourself.”

  I came to my senses just before I reached the door. I turned back to a speechless Joseph Galder.

  “I’m going to give you my number, so that when you figure out that you don’t want to spend the rest of your life without your son, you can talk to him.”

  I grabbed a torn envelope on the table by the door and wrote my number on the back of it.

  “Don’t wait too long,” I told him, putting the envelope on top of the pile of mail. Then, because I realized how harsh and undiplomatic I’d been, I added, “Please. This would mean the world to Graysen. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix what I’ve broken between you.”

  When Joseph still didn’t say anything, I let myself back outside, where not even the shining sun could erase my dark mood.

  CHAPTER 19

  Iwashed off my sour attitude in a steaming hot shower. Then, I put on a pair of faded denim shorts and a flowy tank top. I was still exhausted and heartsick over both Eleanor Ridley and my disastrous conversation with Joseph, but I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself.

  Lured by the smell of baked goods and my friends’ voices, I went downstairs.

  When I walked into the living room, A.J. cleared his throat. Gray, Bri, and Yutika, who were all bent over the coffee table, looked up with identical guilty expressions on their faces.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, immediately on my guard.

  “Nothing,” they all replied at once, which didn’t exactly alleviate my suspicion.

  “Baby doll, you look positively peaked,” A.J. said, taking my arm and steering me toward the kitchen. “I’ll make you an energy smoothie.”

  I turned back just in time to see Yutika crumple up the piece of paper they’d all been hovering over and shove it down her shirt.

  “Was that really necessary?” Michael asked her.

  “So, our meeting with Pruwist was a bust,” Graysen said. He was clearly trying to change the subject, but I took the bait.

  “Oh?”

  “He really doesn’t know why the Board members are being hunted,” Michael said. “He didn’t know MagLab even existed until we exposed it.”

  Fantastic. Our best and only theory was shot to hell.

  I sank down onto the couch and propped my feet up on the coffee table.

  “Eleanor Ridley’s autopsy report just came in,” Smith announced.

  “Let me guess.” Yutika rolled her eyes. “Probable cardiopulmonary arrest?”

  “Bingo,” Smith replied.

  “Argh,” Bri threw her head back against the couch cushions. “That isn’t helpful.”

  “At least the Alchemist on the Board is better-protected than Eleanor Ridley,” Yutika said. “Our murderer would have to walk through concrete walls and two-dozen Combat Mags standing shoulder-to-shoulder to get to him.”

  “Yutika and I watched the house for about an hour,” Bri added. “Everything seemed kosher.”

  A.J. pressed a milkshake glass into my hand. It was filled with a disturbingly-green smoothie. When I took a sip, I was surprised to find it didn’t taste like vegetables at all.

  Before I could compliment A.J., my phone went off.

  “Hi, Ma,” I said when the call connected.

  “Have you seen or heard from Desiree?” Ma asked, foregoing any greeting.

  “No, why?”

  “She didn’t come home last night,” Ma said.

  “I’ll have Smith ping her phone,” I told Ma.

  “She left her phone here.” Ma sighed. “I’m sure she’s just at a friend’s. I’ll let you know when she gets home.”

  I bit my lip. Ma knew as well as I did that there was a murderer loose in the city, and violence was escalating between the UnAllied and Nats. It wasn’t safe for a fifteen-year-old Mag with a temper to be out on her own.

  “We can—”

  “No, no,” Ma interrupted. “You have enough on your plate. I’ll text you when she comes home.”

  I stood with my phone in my hand after the call had ended.

  It wasn’t exactly unlike my cousin to disappear to one friend’s house or another after one of her fights with Ma. But not coming home at all was a new one. Desiree might be a brat, but she knew how much Ma worried about all of us. I rubbed my head, which had started to pound.

  “What is it?” Graysen asked, his brow creased in concern.

  I didn’t have a chance to reply. Smith slammed his laptop shut with enough force that Sir Zachary jumped off the couch with an aggrieved look in the Techie’s direction.

  “Smith, what?” I asked, interrupting an impressive string of curses.

  “There are no digital copies of the Super Mags’ files.” Smith scowled. “I’ve searched every computer in MagLab. They either wiped the files, or they only ever had hard copies to begin with.”

  “So, we break into MagLab and get the hard copies,” Bri said with a shrug. “We did it once before. We can do it again.”

  We’d barely escaped with our lives the last time we broke into the Lab. And—

  “Security’s tighter now,” Smith said, speaking my thoughts aloud. “And Kaira’s already skating on thin ice with the Alliance. If we’re found out, Pruwist will probably walk back on their deal.”

  I swallowed, knowing he was right.

  “There must be someone there who keeps the records,” Michael said. “I can Whisper to him and have him bring the files to us.”

  “That’s brilliant,” I said.

  Smith didn’t answer. He was typing away on his computer.

  I had once asked Smith why he sometimes needed to touch his technology, while other times he could do it without sight or touch. He hadn’t deigned to answer.

  “Found him,” Smith said a second later. “Dennis Chikumbuts. He’s a Level 5 Memorizer, which makes sense. If any of the files ever got destroyed, he’d be able to replicate them because he can remember every word he’s ever read.”

  “Then let’s go pay Dennis a visit,” A.J. said, adjusting his crimson bowtie and getting Sir Zachary’s leash.

  “Not so fast.” Smith held up a hand. “He’s been getting death threats since MagLab was exposed, and he now has Combat Mags watching over his house day and night.”

  “I can take care of them,” Bri said, pausing the rep of jumping jacks she’d been in the middle of.

  “N
o,” Gray said. “We can’t do anything blatantly illegal that will draw attention to us.”

  “Blatantly illegal,” A.J. chuckled. “If we ever form a band, that’s what we’re going to call ourselves.”

  “I think Accidentally Vegan would be better,” Michael said.

  “Do any of us even play an instrument?” Bri asked.

  “Can we get Dennis when he leaves the house?” I asked Smith, raising my voice to be heard over the discussion that was heating up about our future band.

  Smith frowned as his eyes scanned back and forth across his screen. Then, his expression lifted.

  “Our guy has dinner reservations tonight at Le Festin Magique.”

  I let out a low whistle. Le Festin Magique was the fanciest Mag restaurant in Boston. It was five-hundred dollars a plate and almost impossible to get reservations unless you knew someone important.

  “How does that help us?” Gray asked. “I imagine he’ll have his Combat Mags go with him.”

  “I doubt it,” Smith said, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “His wife’s name is Karen, but the name on the reservation is Chastity Hardlove.”

  I choked on my smoothie.

  We all looked at each other, holding back giggles.

  “What are the odds she also isn’t all that chaste?” Yutika said with a smirk.

  Everyone lost it. Our giggles turned into guffaws, which transformed into laughter that had all of us doubled over as tears streamed from our eyes.

  Sir Zachary zoomed around, wagging his tail and depositing his toys on each of our laps as he shared in our hysterics.

  “Okay,” Michael said, when he finally got his breath back. “We’ll intercept Chastity on the way to the restaurant. Smith, I’m going to need some pictures of her.”

  Yutika raised a single, bushy eyebrow at her boyfriend. “So, you need pictures of her, do you?”

  “Uh, no,” Michael said quickly. “Not like that. I just meant—”

  I jumped in to save the poor boy from turning any redder. “Can you get us a table at Le Festin Magique?” I asked Michael.

  He nodded, looking relieved.

  “I’m confused.” Bri put up a hand. “How exactly are we going to pull this off?”

  Everyone looked at me.

  “I have a plan,” I said. I turned to Michael, who was zipping up his sweatshirt and hunting around for the car keys. “How do you feel about go-go boots?”

  “Never heard of them,” he replied in a serious voice.

  A.J. and Bri collapsed on the couch in another fit of giggles. Gray patted Michael on the back and gave him a pitying look.

  “Everyone bring your cameras,” Yutika announced. “This is a night that will live in infamy.”

  CHAPTER 20

  This lady smells like a perfume store,” Smith complained.

  “Have you ever been in a perfume store?” A.J. asked, seeming genuinely curious.

  “Obviously not,” Smith retorted. “But I can imagine what one would smell like, and it’s sprawled across the floor of our van.”

  Getting Chastity in our custody had been easy. Smith had tracked her Corvette convertible—apparently being a high-end escort paid really well—and we’d pulled her over in a police van Yutika had created. Michael Whispered to the woman, and Bri had tossed her unconscious body into our van.

  “We’ll meet you at the restaurant,” I told Michael as he got into Chastity’s idling car. And then I illusioned him.

  Three flashes simultaneously lit up the night as Yutika, Bri, and A.J. snapped pictures of Michael with their phones.

  “This is ridiculous,” Michael muttered as he looked down at himself.

  He now had waist-length blonde hair that fell in flawless ringlets. He wore a black dress that mostly covered a bubble butt and showed off what had to be double-D boobs. He also had a choker of diamonds…because apparently Chastity wasn’t completely classless. Amazingly, Chastity had in fact been wearing thigh-high go-go boots, which were now reflected in my illusion.

  “Is it weird I’m still attracted to you?” Yutika asked.

  “Not at all, honey bear,” A.J. assured her.

  “I don’t want to discuss this ever again,” Michael said. He drove off before anyone could comment further about his cherry-red lips or speculate about what Chastity had on under the dress.

  The rest of us piled back into the van. We removed the siren and then drove to the restaurant. Michael, Smith, and I wore earpieces and mikes so we’d all be in contact.

  The plan was for Smith, Sir Zachary, and the actual Chastity Hardlove to stay in the van. Michael was our mark’s date for the night, and the rest of us would be sitting at the next table in case he needed backup.

  As far as plans went, it was a pretty simple one.

  Even though I was going to illusion all of us so we wouldn’t be recognized, A.J. had insisted we get dressed up for our fancy night on the town. I didn’t often have a reason to break out any of my formal attire, so I hadn’t complained about having an excuse to wear a gorgeous and completely impractical dress I’d bought a few months back.

  It was gold, with a daring slit almost up to my hip. I pretended not to notice the way Gray’s eyes were pretty much glued to me.

  He might have been showing off less skin, but he was no less sexy in a fitted black tux Yutika had made him. Bri wore a blue gown that made her look like Cinderella, and A.J. was wearing a silver tux that reflected every hint of light. I was relieved to illusion him so I wouldn’t have to be blinded every time I glanced his way.

  I kept our faces and outfits elegantly bland, making us look important but unmemorable.

  “I’ve killed the security cameras in and around the restaurant,” Smith said. “Just in case.”

  We entered the restaurant right behind Michael-turned-Chastity Hardlove.

  “Make your steps smaller,” I said into my mike. “You’re wearing six-inch heels. Act like it.”

  “Bonus points for swaying your hips,” Bri said, leaning over to talk into the mike clipped on my collar.

  “I hate you all,” Michael muttered.

  I stepped into the dimly-lit restaurant, and my breath caught. We were standing in a winter wonderland. Silver trees grew around the perimeter of the room. I had no idea what kind of magic had created them, but when I touched one of the trunks, it was real.

  A thin layer of snow coated the floor, but it wasn’t cold. Fires burned in grates spaced around the restaurant. It had to be a fire hazard, but it was beautiful. My nose was overwhelmed by the smell of burning wood mixed with hot food.

  A string quartet, minus the musicians, was situated in the corner. The instruments hovered in mid-air, their bows moving to produce a haunting melody.

  “This is nice,” Yutika said, craning her head to look up at the constellations flickering across the dark ceiling.

  Gray slid an arm around my waist, leaning in and teasing the triangle of bare skin on my thigh with his fingertips.

  “It’s almost like we’re on a real date,” he said against my ear, his warm breath making goosebumps rise all over my skin.

  “Mm,” I replied. “If you play your cards right, I might let you take me home later.”

  “Cut it out, you two,” A.J. hissed. “If anyone bothers to notice we have a Nat in our company, we don’t want them to see you canoodling.”

  He was right. Generally, Mags didn’t go around judging other people’s magic or lack thereof. But we couldn’t risk some busybody, or just someone especially observant, noticing Gray’s absence of magic.

  Reluctantly, Gray and I put some distance between us and focused on the task at hand.

  We weren’t on a date. Lives depended on us getting the information we’d come here for…and one of those lives was my own.

  The Memorizer, who was already waiting at his table, waved at Michael-turned-Chastity.

  “Smile and be charming,” I told Michael.

  “Chastity, darling,” Dennis rose from his ch
air. “You look stunning, as always.”

  Michael made a small sound of protest when the Memorizer kissed him on the cheek. Michael jerked when the man’s hand landed squarely on his ass as Dennis leaned in to admire the diamond choker illusion.

  “Hey, watch where you put your hands,” Yutika said under her breath. “That’s my boyfriend you’re groping.”

  A seating host came to lead the rest of us to a large table in the corner.

  Since Michael’s expression could best be described as horrified, I had my hands full with illusioning minute differences in his facial expressions so Dennis wouldn’t notice anything was amiss. As soon as their waitress left them alone, Michael leaned closer to Dennis.

  Michael put up his palm to stop the other man from planting a wet one on his lips.

  “Don’t try that again,” Michael said.

  Dennis made a sound of protest at the deep, masculine voice coming from the body of his escort. But then his expression turned placid as he nodded.

  “Do you remember all of the details in each Super Mag’s file?” Michael asked, holding the other man with his stare.

  “Of course,” Dennis replied in a dreamy voice.

  “Good,” Michael said. “I want you to replicate every one of their files, exactly as they appear in real life.” He slid a notebook across the table to Dennis.

  “Anything for you, my love,” Dennis replied. He took the pen and leaned closer to Michael, before remembering Michael’s earlier order and reluctantly unpuckering his lips.

  Dennis didn’t stop writing, even when the waitress asked if they were ready for some amuse-bouche. Michael asked the waitress in a polite voice to just bring him a steak.

  If she’d been put off by a man’s voice coming from Chastity’s body, she didn’t show it. The waitress actually curtsied to Michael and hurried off to place the order.

  Yutika slapped a hand over A.J.’s mouth before he went psycho vegan and started screaming in the restaurant.

  I picked up my spoon and took a bite of the tiny custard that had been set in front of me. It tasted vaguely fishy and way too salty.