Death Magic Rules

by Sharon Stevenson

  Robo-Britt did as she was told, looking to her master for further instruction as Seven uttered noises of disgust at her treatment.

  “I’ve done nothing wrong,” Seven spat out. “Let me go.”

  Nine shook her head. “You were insubordinate.” She brandished the knife, pulling it out of nowhere for extra showmanship points.

  Seven drew more magic to her and smiled bitterly at Nine. “I’m better than you, and I always have been.”

  “Think again, bitch.” She grinned and brought the knife down.

  Seven grinned right back as the knife disappeared and Nine’s empty hand hit her chest. “You dropped your knife.”

  I couldn’t watch this. Seven was about to ruin my hastily constructed plan. I couldn’t let her.

  Nine nodded at Five. Five moved her hands, snapping Seven’s neck in a movement that barely broke three seconds. Seven’s limp body dropped to the carpet. Five bowed to her master only once Nine gave a satisfactory nod. “Thank you, Five. You are excused.”

  Five left, the bounce still in her every step; clearly this was something she’d done for Britt before.

  I dropped my invisibility spell and looked down at the fresh body on the floor. “Good work.”

  “Thanks. Did I miss anything?”

  “Not at all.”

  She let out a relieved sigh. “That was hard.”

  “You shouldn’t have anything to worry about now.” I thought about what was next. “How did Britt treat the clones? Did she favour some over others?”

  Nine nodded. “Of course. She only sent four of us out in public. I mean, after One had that nervous breakdown and Three decided she was a goth or something she knew she had to control us more.”

  “Okay.” It made sense, sort of. “What did she send you out for?”

  “Oh. Um, to be her eyes on the streets. That’s how I found Pete for her. She favoured me for that. For like five minutes.”

  “To be her eyes?”

  “She used to watch our memories if we reported anything strange or sometimes just to check we weren’t lying to her. She never had time to check everything.”

  “Okay,” I said, thinking it over. I couldn’t see any further potential problems with that but it didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any. I didn’t think I could afford to stick around for much longer, but I wasn’t sure I could afford to leave yet either.

  “I have a show tomorrow. Can you watch me practice? I want to make sure it’s perfect.”

  “I kind of have to go.”

  “Oh. Okay then,” she said, biting at her lip. “Can’t you stay just a little longer?”

  “I have other duties. You can call me if you get into trouble,” I said, telling myself it was a necessity as I conjured a pen and paper and wrote my number down.

  “What do I call you?”

  “You don’t need to know my name.”

  She pouted. “You know mine.”

  I supposed she could always pull it out of my head if she really tried. Right now, the important thing was to keep pretence up until it became the truth. She needed me as much as I needed her. “It’s Tim.”

  “You don’t look like a Tim. Hmm. Timmy. Yeah, I like that better.”

  Great. I pursed my lips. She had to pick that nasty old nickname, didn’t she?

  She smirked slightly. “Timmy Piss-Face Wallace?”

  I sighed. “Get out of my head.”

  “Make me.” She sounded oddly thrilled at the prospect.

  I closed my thoughts. She stared, eyes narrowing. “Damn. You’re good. Why didn’t you do that before?”

  “I needed to see what you were capable of.”

  “Oh. Right. So, your girlfriend won’t mind if I call you whenever I need you?”

  “My boyfriend might, but don’t let that stop you.”

  Her eyes widened. “But you’re so…”

  “So what?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “Eight told me I was always falling for guys I couldn’t have. I don’t know why I can’t stop doing it.”

  “She must have been a good friend.”

  “She was. I didn’t know.” She sighed. “I wish I’d realised. Anyway, what do I do about them?” She pointed to the dead bodies.

  That was kind of the problem, wasn’t it? We didn’t know who Britt usually called. “Leave them for now. You said the scientist who deals with the clones seems to know when they die…” Crap. Why hadn’t I thought of this? I knelt beside Seven. There had to be some kind of signalling device on her somewhere. Where would they hide something like that? I zeroed in on the tattoos. They all had them in that same exact spot. Seven had lightning bolts where Nine had stars.

  I pressed my fingers down on the skin around her tattoo, probing around the markings. The bump was small but hard. I pushed it and it moved slightly. There was an implant under her skin. I could actually see a flashing red light under the surface when I pushed the tattooed skin around. Shit!

  “What is it? Something’s wrong. You’re scared.”

  “You have an implant in your neck. We need to get it out now. It needs to be inside her,” my voice shook. I didn’t know how much time we had until he showed. This could screw up the entire plan. “Fuck.” Why hadn’t I thought of it when she’d mentioned him before? Obviously, he’d be keeping tabs on them. Britt was a busy woman; she didn’t have time to call some clean-up crew every time one of her clones got themselves run over or something.

  “Can’t we just use magic for that?” Nine seemed confused by my panic.

  I tried to calm down. What did I know about cloning? Not much. It was only legal in a handful of US states and Nevada was one of them. That was about it. I wondered if the implant did more than issue an alert when the clone died. I got up and touched the skin around the place Nine’s tattoo had been before she’d hidden it with a glamour spell. The implant was there. I had to transfer it to Britt. I didn’t know what that might do to Nine. Would it harm her? “I don’t know if this is going to hurt.”

  She shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  I concentrated and pushed magic into the tiny object. I visualised it under Britt’s skin in the same place. It disappeared from touch. I brushed Nine’s collarbone. It was gone. She hadn’t even flinched. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Is it done?”

  I moved away, kneeling beside Britt’s head. The tiny flashing light was visible under the skin at the base of her neck. It had worked. I took a breath as I got to my feet. That had to be the last thing I needed to worry about. There couldn’t be anything else. We’d managed it. Nine was going to pull this off.

  “What happens now?” She folded her arms.

  “Now you wait around for the scientist to show up. Make yourself look busy and treat him like she would have.”

  “Sounds easy,” she said. “Do I let him make more?”

  “Do whatever Britt would have done.”

  Her brow knitted together tightly and flattened out again as her eyes lit up with excitement. “Ooh, what about the dead guys downstairs?”

  I’d forgotten about Britt’s Animates. Damn it. There was one more problem left to take care of, and I had no idea how to handle this one. Technically, Nick owned the Animates now. Nine wouldn’t be able to control them; they wouldn’t be compelled to do as she told them. She might get away with acting like Britt, but she wasn’t the real deal and they’d know that better than anyone.

  She frowned when I shook my head. “What?”

  “Don’t go near them right now. I’ll need to think about it. You have no control over them.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “I don’t?”

  “You’re not really Britt, and they’ll be able to sense that. You won’t be able to enforce your will on them.”

  “But they’re dead, right? And I’m a User. I thought that was kind of how it worked.”

  “You’re not their User.”

  “So who is?” She folded her arms.

&n
bsp; “I’ll… get back to you on that. I need to work this out. Call me if there’s an emergency.” I had to get out of here. The longer I stayed, the more the problem seemed to escalate. “Just keep being Britt.”

  Ten – Pete

  I was worse than a drowned rat by the time I got home. The downpour had soaked right through my clothes and turned my trainers into mini-ponds of dirty rain-water. I squelched my way up the stone stairs to the flat, leaving big wet footprints that might as well have been puddles all the way up the stairs. I was dripping all over, cold and miserable. If I were to shake myself violently right then, it would have been like a dozen water bombs going off in the hall all at once. I got my keys out and headed into the flat.

  At least I’d gotten two job offers. It just sucked that I’d have to approve them with Nick before I could start working again. Actually, it sucked a whole lot worse that I was dead and still had to work. No rest for the wicked as they say. I stripped off in the bathroom and buried myself in towels in an attempt to dry off.

  “Pete?” Dave sounded nervous.

  “Aye, it’s just me,” I shouted through, heading for my bedroom to get a change of clothes sorted out.

  “Okay,” he shouted back. A brash pop song started up while I rooted around my overstuffed drawers. The irritatingly catchy chorus was vaguely familiar. Shivers crept up my spine as I suddenly recognised the singer’s voice; Britton Rocks.

  “Turn that off,” I shouted through, pulling out socks and boxer shorts.

  He turned it down, but he didn’t switch it off. I’d forgotten how fond he was of pop princess types.

  I wondered what would happen now with Britt dead. Would her clones be set free? What about her Animates? Shit. They weren’t legal over there. What would happen when they were found? What would happen to Cal?

  I hadn’t gotten to know much about my surfer-dude roomie, but I didn’t like the thought of him losing what little he had just because that bitch was dead now. He’d seemed happy enough with his lot.

  What about the others? How many were there?

  I had to speak to Nick. Surely there was something he could do, being the one who’d killed her. I shoved my clothes on, dropping the towels. Once I was dressed I picked one of them back up and dried my hair off a bit. I supposed now was as good a time as any to talk to Nick. I’d been enjoying my day off, though. After last night, I’d needed it. The thought of heading to see my User put a nasty sneer on my face.

  The front door opened. “Pete?”

  I came out of the bedroom, leaving my wet towels on the floor. “Did you do it?”

  Mickey squished up his face. “She’s at her sisters. I’ll go and see her later.”

  “You’d better.”

  “Yes, boss,” he muttered. “Got a towel?”

  He did look almost as wet as I had. There were pinkish stains on his t-shirt and the neck wound that had disappeared recently was back. He was making himself vampire food again. Why did I think that might have changed?

  I grabbed the last towel out of the stash in the bathroom and threw it at him. “You told me no bother. Why should she be any different?”

  “I don’t know,” he muttered, wiping his face and arms.

  His eyes were big and his movements liquid. He stepped out of his wet shoes and headed for the living room.

  “This isn’t your flat,” I reminded.

  “I can’t handle Mum right now,” he said. “You don’t know what she’ll be like when I go back home. It’ll be twenty questions about what happened to you. It’s giving me a headache just thinking about it.” He slumped onto the couch, wrapping the towel about his shoulders. “Put the fire on?”

  “I don’t think so. I can’t afford to pay for gas until I get a job.”

  He took a fifty-pound-note out his wallet and put it on the coffee table. I reluctantly took it and put the fire on. He sighed happily as he picked up the TV remote. He’d put a bag down by his feet. I could guess what was in it.

  “Why do you still stay with Mum anyway?” He could afford a place of his own and something much better than this.

  He shrugged as he lifted a beer from his bag. “She makes me dinner and washes my clothes. It’s nice.”

  “You’re twenty-two, Mickey. When are you planning on growing up?”

  “Maybe never,” he said with a smile. “I’ll worry about it when I hit the big 3-0.”

  “I need to go see Nick.” I headed out as he put on the TV. The vampire soap that seemed to be on 24-7 was filling up the screen as I left the room. Hilariously, the ‘vampires’ were all super-sexy twenty-something’s with toned bodies and professionally styled hair—nothing at all like the blood-sucking aliens who made the ridiculous show.

  I went across the hall and knocked on Nick’s door. He took his time answering, but when he did open the door he was smiling.

  “Hey, Pete, how goes it?”

  “I got a couple of job offers. Think you can approve one of them?”

  He yawned. “What were they?”

  “One’s a waiter in a tourist attraction near the castle.” It gave me the creeps how close it was to the King to be honest, but that was the one of the few types of work I was likely to get besides the Guard. “It’s a Monday to Friday thing, six hours a day.” The money would barely tide me over and only because I didn’t need to buy luxuries like food anymore. The tips might make up for the below minimum wages, but I could hardly count on that.

  Nick nodded slowly. “O-kay. What’s the other?”

  “Ticket booth guy at the House of Horrors Wax Museum.”

  Nick snorted. “Hours?”

  “Four full day shifts Monday to Thursday.” It worked out to slightly more hours and the pay was marginally better. No chance of tips or extra hours, though. I wasn’t overly thrilled with either of the menial positions I’d found, but there wasn’t much call for dead guys in marketing careers for some reason. I folded my arms, waiting on my User’s decision.

  “Take the wax museum job. That shouldn’t interfere with my gigs or anything.”

  “Okay,” I said, not really caring. It felt kind of weird being dictated to over it, but it wasn’t as if I had a preference anyway.

  “Great. You can have the night off. I’m kind of busy here.”

  It didn’t look like he was busy, but who was I to argue? “Eh, there was something I wanted to ask about.”

  “What?” He glanced back at his closed bedroom door, and I couldn’t help wondering if he had a girl over.

  “Britt’s Animates. What happens to them?”

  He blinked. “Holy shit. I forgot all about them.”

  “I only ask since…”

  “I can’t believe I forgot. She had loads of them, didn’t she? They’re all mine now. This is…” He shook his head, pulling at his hair. “I need to think about this. This is seriously awesome.”

  “What are you going to do with them?” It wasn’t like he could keep them here. I didn’t know how many there were, but I seriously suspected they took up at least one floor of that massive hotel. There was no way he’d be bringing them all back here.

  He sucked at his bottom lip. “Take the night off, Pete. I’ve got shit to do.”

  When I left, he shut and locked the door. I listened as he bolted it. He was up to something, and I was probably better off not knowing about it.

  Eleven – Kit

  Mickey’s text felt a little out of the blue. I was glad to hear from him, but I just hoped he wasn’t going to try and tell me what a great guy his cousin was and how I should give him a chance or any of that garbage. I had enough on my mind without being subjected to some kind of weird set-up with a guy who wasn’t even alive.

  Kat was boiling the kettle, having gotten over the trauma of sticky chocolate fingers on her new dress. The kids had rushed down when I’d told them it was time for cake. Sam had given me a rushed hug, dropped the present on the floor after taking it and dashed down the stairs with the rest of them. I’d counted seve
n little hyper heads as they whizzed past. By the time I’d gotten back down the stairs they were in the living room watching Ben 10 while they stuffed their little faces. I really hoped there was nothing wrong with that cake. I knew I was being overly suspicious because I didn’t trust Nick and that there was probably nothing wrong with it, but I still felt kind of queasy about it. I wished I’d just dropped it like I’d wanted to when Nick had left.

  I glanced back through. They’d finished their slices and were watching TV, not one of them looking the slightest bit sick. It eased my mind ever so slightly.

  “Who texted you?” Kat asked as she put a mug of hot chocolate down in front of me.

  “Just Mickey.” I picked up the hot drink and took a sip. It wasn’t the low-fat crap she usually pushed on me. I raised my eyebrows. “This is proper hot chocolate.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a wry little smile. “The diet stuff doesn’t taste anywhere near as good. No marshmallows though. That’s the compromise.” She had a cup of it in her own hands when she finally sat down. It felt like when we were kids, before she got too old to hang around with her geeky kid sister anymore.

  “It’s good.”

  “So, Mickey? You’re still just friends?” She always poked at the sensitive issues.

  I shrugged. “He wants to talk to me about something later.”

  She gasped. “Is that what he said? Maybe he wants to ask you out. Maybe he’s going to go all romantic and go straight for a proposal!”

  I burst out laughing. “What?”

  “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re not thinking it. He’s like your perfect guy and you’ve known each other forever.”

  Kind of, I thought. We’d gone in different directions at high school, losing touch for a while until he started hanging out at the pub in sixth year. None of that mattered. He wasn’t going to spring a proposal on me out of the blue. “He’s not my perfect guy.” If he was he would have asked me out a long time ago.

  “Ooh,” she said, smiling. “That can only mean one thing. There’s some other guy on the scene. Who is he?”

  I drank my hot chocolate. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have.