Evil Waking (Magic Trackers Book 3)

by Michael La Ronn

  I ducked again, barely missing a magic-covered fist.

  “D, it's me!” I cried.

  “You're an illusion!” Darius cried. He paused, gathering magic in his hands.

  He was going to throw a fireball at me.

  My cousin was trying to kill me with a fireball.

  My vision narrowed. My breathing increased as my heart rate soared.

  “D, you're delusional!” I cried.

  Whoosh!

  He sent a fireball flying at me.

  I jumped out of the way, crashing into a pillar. I hit my head on the floor.

  Darius stalked toward me.

  I had nowhere else to go.

  My head rang with pain. I couldn't move.

  “Why did we listen to Harriet?” he asked himself. “Why did she send us?”

  “She sent us because we don't have a choice!” I cried. “If we don't seek out Hattie, Harriet might die. Balthus won't stop until I'm dead either.”

  “Balthus?” Darius asked, stopping. “Who is he?”

  I looked at him strangely.

  “Hello?” I asked. “He's the one who wrote the letter, started all this mess, and stabbed Harriet.”

  Darius shook his head and snapped his fingers again.

  “I can't trust you!” he said, screaming. “Aisha, where are you? Where is the real Aisha?”

  “I'm right here!” I shouted.

  I held my hands up.

  “Don't do this,” I said. “Whatever’s happened to you, you're not seeing clearly. You're going to regret this.”

  I glanced down at my scaly hands.

  “I may look like a freak, but I promise that I'm you're cousin,” I said.

  He stalked closer, magic gathering in his hands. He raised them to strike.

  “D, please,” I said. “We have too much further to go.”

  He frowned and scowled at me.

  I knew that look.

  He was going to kill me.

  No.

  I closed my eyes and looked down, waiting for him to strike.

  Instead, Darius screamed in pain. Footsteps staggered toward me, and something struck the column, landing next to me with a bump.

  I opened my eyes.

  Darius was sitting next to me.

  “I can't,” he said. “I can't…do it.”

  I reached out and grabbed his hand, interlocking my scaly fingers with his.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We’re going to be okay.”

  We sat, dazed and confused, as different footsteps approached us.

  The world spun around me. I gripped Darius’s hand tighter.

  My world then spun in two. My vision whirled around, twin visions circling each other until they joined into one—one of a white woman in a white skirt and blue jacket that looked like some sort of uniform. She folded her arms at us.

  She snapped her fingers.

  Green magic surged through me.

  The scales on my arms disappeared. I felt the fangs shrink down into my regular teeth.

  My nausea slowly faded away. I could breathe. Finally, thank God Almighty, I could breathe!

  Darius and I looked at each other. Then we looked around the room.

  I don't know why I hadn't seen it before.

  We were in an underground parking garage. For five or six cars.

  Behind us, several sports cars were parked.

  I hadn't even seen them during the struggle.

  “You may stand up,” the woman said. “I am pleased to inform you that you were never in any danger.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” I asked, staggering up. I raised my fists in front of my face, ready to fight.

  “Mrs. Lovelace will see you now,” the woman said, turning. She walked to an elevator and pressed a button for service.

  “I said who are you?” I asked.

  “What the hell was all of that?” Darius asked. He produced a fireball in his hands. “You got three seconds before I turn you into fried—”

  The woman’s eyes glowed.

  Darius responded by dropping his hands and letting the magic fade. He had a zombie look in his eyes, as if something had taken control of his mind.

  Shit.

  This woman was a mind controller.

  “As I said, you are in no danger,” the woman said. “If I must control his mind any further, I will not let you pass and will escort you from the premises.”

  I held out my hand. “It's cool. I'll take care of it.”

  The woman ceased controlling Darius’s mind. His normal gaze returned, and he stumbled backward, confused.

  “D, be cool,” I whispered. “This chick is a mind controller.”

  He looked at me, eyes widening.

  “Damn. Not again,” he said.

  “Again,” I said.

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. The woman stepped inside and motioned for us to follow.

  “Please hurry up,” she said. “You came at the right time. Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace are between appointments.”

  Darius skipped ahead, slightly unsteady on his feet. I followed.

  The elevator had red velvet and mahogany wood walls and decorative trim with airy African men and woman silhouettes etched into the wood. Soul music played from a speaker in the wall.

  A mirror on the back wall reflected my and Darius’s disheveled faces. We looked awful.

  “You’ll have to forgive the proving test,” the woman said.

  “Proving test?” I asked. “That was all a test?”

  “We hope you understand the security concern,” the woman said. “A fair number of visitors come asking for Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace, but unlike you, they do not always come for good reasons.”

  “What do you do with the bad ones?” Darius asked incredulously.

  “We hold them until the police arrive,” the woman said. “Many of them are wizard tech spies.”

  Darius’s eyes went crazy big and wide.

  “Oh shit,” he said. “I remember where I know the Lovelace name now.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “They’re wizard tech inventors,” Darius said. “Mostly medical devices infused with magic. Hattie came and gave a talk to us at tech school once. I think her husband teaches wizard tech at Lakeway.”

  I looked at the woman. She said nothing.

  The doors opened into a lavish hallway with marble floors and Greek columns. It led to two wooden double doors.

  “There is a lavatory on the left,” the woman said. “Feel free to wash up before the meeting.”

  “We a’ight,” Darius said.

  She opened the doors into a huge sitting room with fancy couches, sectionals, golden lace curtains, and a white grand piano. There was more money in this room than I’d ever make in my life.

  “Yeeeeeeah, buddy,” Darius said. “Now this is good-ass livin’.”

  He plopped down on a chaise and stretched his arms, looking around.

  In his best British accent, he said, “We are ready to receive company now. Bring them in, will you, my good woman?”

  The woman frowned. She left us and shut the door behind her.

  I folded my arms. “D, how are you not stark-raving pissed off right now about what just happened to us?”

  “It all makes sense,” Darius said, tapping his temple. “Security mechanism.”

  “Noooo,” I said. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “It was pretty damn good too,” he said. “I’ve seen this kind of scheme before, but it was so crazy that I didn’t recognize it.”

  “Because you were mind-controlled,” I said.

  “That was a black diamond glyph,” Darius said. “It’s one of the most expensive security glyphs money can buy. We’re talking tens of thousands of dollars, cuz.”

  I frowned. I wanted to rip him apart for not being angry.

  “It transports the victim to any place of the owner’s choosing,” Darius said, not paying attention at all to my emotions. “It disorients the
victim. What’s really cool about it is that if you combine it with a visual distortion glyph, the person won’t even know where the hell they are. We were in these people’s garage and didn’t even know it. And the mind controller? She seized my mind and asked you everything she needed to know through me. That adds an extra, complicated layer to this. I mean, most people can’t afford a mind controller on staff twenty-four seven, you feel me? I spent a whole semester studying these glyph schemes, cuz, and they are wild—”

  “Will you shut up?” I asked.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Geek out some other time,” I said.

  “How many times do you get to meet the mother and father of contemporary wizard tech?” Darius asked. “Sheeeeet, no wonder they’re rich.”

  “I’m done talking to you,” I said. “If I didn’t need you, I would have left you down in that garage.”

  Darius shook his head.

  I paced around the room, looking at several framed photographs on the wall. I got my first glimpse at Hattie and Terrance Lovelace.

  Hattie was a tall, bald woman with perfect makeup and sleek curves. She radiated confidence and beauty, but in a countercultural, African kind of way. Terrance was medium build and shorter than Hattie. He had a salt and pepper mustache and beard. In every photo, he wore a suit and tie, usually in bold colors.

  And of course, the photos…in one, they posed with Barack Obama in the Oval Office. Another, they sat at a piano with Stevie Wonder. Another, Oprah. Denzel Washington. Michael Jordan. Michael Jackson. Prince. All the photos were signed.

  I was impressed. And angry.

  On one wall were two diplomas from Lakeway University. I recognized the school’s crest, a shield with a lion’s head, a school admissions building with a steeple, a rising sun, and a group of black people standing, holding hands in brother and sisterhood.

  “They’re both Lakeway grads,” I said.

  “If this is the kind of crew Destiny’s gonna be runnin’ with, we about to be rich!” Darius said.

  The doors opened and Hattie and Terrance entered. Hattie wore a bright red dress. Shadows swirled across her body, just like Harriet’s. Terrance wore a pink button-up shirt with French cuffs.

  “How y’all doin’ tonight?” Terrance asked, flashing an infectious smile.

  “Mr. Lovelace,” Darius said. “Mrs. Lovelace. This is a big honor.”

  I snapped my fingers, silencing him.

  “You already know who we are,” I said. “Was any of what you just put us through necessary?”

  “We hear that all the time,” Hattie said. “If you had come over just asking for coffee, trust us—we wouldn’t have put you through that.”

  I suddenly grew angry with Harriet for not warning us about their little “test.”

  “What is it with shadows and tests?” I asked.

  Hattie extended her hand.

  “You must be Aisha,” she said.

  I shook it reluctantly. Then I shook Terrance’s hand.

  “I know you,” Hattie said. “If I had known the city’s most famous dream mage would have been in our presence, I would have made coffee.”

  Terrance pumped my hand.

  “Girl, everybody’s talkin’ ‘bout you,” he said. “I read all the articles. You got some pretty impressive skills.”

  “That’s the problem,” I said.

  The couple gestured for us to sit, and they sat down across from us. Their demeanors put me at ease. Despite all their money, they still had the air of normal black folk. They were more stately, but they still had that drawl and that looseness in their voices that we all had when we spoke to each other.

  “Harriet sent you,” Hattie said, smiling. “I don’t know if you know her well or not, but we go way back. What’s she talking about tonight?”

  “She was attacked,” I said. “Someone almost killed her.”

  Hattie and Terrance looked at each other.

  “Who?” Terrance asked, his face hardening.

  I pulled Balthus’s letter from my pocket and handed it to him. He read it and handed it to Hattie.

  “Sounds like a great way to start your night, Aisha,” Terrance said.

  “Baby, light it up,” Hattie said.

  Terrance snapped his fingers, and the letter went up in flames. Hattie blew the embers toward me, but they fell onto the carpet, disappearing on contact. A blue glyph appeared in the carpet before shattering.

  “You made a mistake bringing this letter with you,” she said. “That was a tracking glyph.”

  I cursed.

  “So Balthus knows we’re here?” I asked.

  “And he knows where you’ve been,” Hattie said, giving us a long frown. “Harriet must’ve been some kind of hurt to not tell you that.”

  “She took a knife to the side,” I said. “That'll do that to you.”

  Hattie stood and paced the room as she pondered what to do. There was something regal about her in the way she moved. She reminded me of Harriet, but more social.

  “Balthus is ready for war,” she said. “You really pissed him off, Aisha.”

  “That's what I don't understand,” I said. “Why can't people just let other people be?”

  “For every bright side, there is also a dark side,” Terrance said. “Think about it like this: you're a dream mage that stands for all that is good in this city, right? Balthus is your opposite.”

  “But why?” I asked.

  “How much did Harriet teach you about the Shadow Walkers?” Hattie asked.

  “Almost nothing,” I said. “So do me a favor and forgive my ignorance.”

  Hattie sat next to me. “Honey, what you do with your dream business is noble. But there are dream mages out there who want to use their powers to sow discord. Balthus has been using RSDM to recruit dream mages for a seemingly noble cause. He uses them for evil purposes.”

  “Not to mention, dare I say it,” Terrance said, “the guy’s a racist. Never could prove it, though.”

  “I knew it!” Darius said.

  “Explains why I didn't receive an invitation sooner,” I said.

  “Why do you think Somnients keep showing up?” Hattie asked. “Balthus and his dream mages have been setting demon attraction traps for years, forcing the city to pay for his services.”

  “If that's true, why have we never seen or heard of him?” I asked.

  Terrance laughed. “That's because you're playing in different pools, guys.”

  “You're not killing any Somnients of real value,” Hattie said. “You're killing the ones he leaves behind. By the time you see them, he's made his money.”

  I cocked my head.

  “He extorts the most well-connected businesses and luminaries in the city,” Terrance said. “He even tried to send Somnients our way once.”

  “But you guys have magic,” Darius said. “Can't you pay to defend yourselves?”

  “Balthus has money too,” Terrance said. “All things equal, good and evil wash themselves out.”

  “The mission of the Shadow Walkers is to protect the city’s infrastructure from evil through the use of dark magic,” Hattie said. “We fight darkness with darkness, because that's what it takes to run and defend this city. We live in the shadows, but we create light.”

  It felt like we were talking about two different realities.

  “So what do we do?” I asked. “Because I am lost.”

  “We need to assemble the Walkers,” Hattie said. “I'll take care of that. I'll meet all of you at the Ronson Street Pavilion. Harriet owns a condo there that we use for meetings.”

  In an instant, Hattie disappeared, leaving only a trail of shadow wisps.

  “I hate when she does that,” Terrance said, winking at us. “She doesn't even give me a kiss.”

  Hattie flashed back into the room, grabbed Terrance, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing again.

  “All right, my night can begin now,” he said. “Let’s go, you two.”
r />   We followed him into the foyer of the mansion, where a black chauffeur was standing at parade rest near the front door.

  “Car is ready, sir,” the man said.

  Terrance grabbed a navy blue suit coat and a black great coat.

  “Y’all ever ridden in a Rolls before?” he asked.

  “Ha ha!” Darius said. “Always been a dream of mine, sir.”

  “Your dream is about to come true, pardner,” Terrance said.

  The chauffeur opened the front door for us. As we passed, a headset in his ear beeped and he reached out and grabbed us.

  “Sir, we've got a problem,” the man said.

  “What's going on?” Terrance asked.

  “I received a report of a suspicious figure outside our gate,” the chauffeur said. “Whoever it is, they're not moving until we come out.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that the police aren't going to solve this problem for us?” I asked.

  This Balthus guy was relentless. And unpredictable. I hoped it was him so we could battle it out and be done.

  But I knew it wasn't him.

  It was probably, just like last time, one of his cronies, sent to scare me.

  I brushed past the chauffeur.

  “Wait!” Terrance said.

  “Open the gates,” I said, stalking through the snow. “I'm going to send Balthus a message.”

  13

  A shrouded figure waited outside the gates to the Lovelace mansion.

  The gates opened, and Darius, Terrance, and I walked out to meet him.

  The man wore a cloak with a hood over his face. He stood like a floating shadow in the middle of the street.

  A woman lay sleeping at his feet. She had a bruise on her forehead and looked as if she had been thrown there.

  “Greetings, dream mage,” the man said.

  “Why don’t you take down your hood for a minute so we can see your face?” Terrance asked.

  The figure ignored him.

  “I would be silly to think that you’re Balthus,” I said. “Because that would be too easy.”

  “I am not Balthus,” the man said. “But Balthus sent me. You are finally understanding how we operate.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “And you’re going to deliver a message for me.”

  “Actually, I have come to deliver a message to you,” the man said.

  “I’m listening,” I said, folding my arms.