Rage: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Spelldrift: Coven of Fire Book 3)

by Sierra Cross

  A grey-haired man in a lab coat entered the room gripping a light grey gun, his face hard and emotionless.

  “No. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Please. My kids. They need me. Please—” Tyler’s terrified rambling was silenced by a bullet piercing his heart.

  “Get the body on ice to send to El Diablo,” he ordered to what must be other techs who stood off screen. Tyler’s lifeless eyes stared into the camera. And still he wouldn’t be allowed to rest in peace—El Diablo? “And get those three upstairs for treatment.” He inspected the ruined machine, frustration coloring his voice for the first time. “Damn it. It’s a total loss.”

  Bile hovered dangerously close to the top of my throat.

  Liv’s face was paper-white, horror-filled. “I can’t watch anymore.”

  I thought about my promise to Masumi to watch all of it. Did I have the stomach to do that now? “Mals aren’t evil. They’re being tortured and provoked in order to justify killing them.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Asher said, shocking me. “What we just saw, I’ll grant you, was horrendous. I have no doubt that Mal was harmless—well, not harmless but…innocent. Like Matt. But there are documented cases of Mals wantonly taking out whole villages. While not every Mal is evil, the magicborn fear them with good cause.”

  “Did you not just see them shoot that man in cold blood?” Liv said, dazed. “And they were going to study his dead body…”

  “And what was up with the serum they were collecting?” I piled on. “Didn’t that sound a bit mad science-y to you? What did they call it? Variant serum?”

  “That’s new to me. Maybe they’re analyzing the enhanced abilities that result from an illicit union?” Asher seemed to be weighing the need for concern versus pragmatism. “Look, as gruesome as it is, I’m not surprised that Fidei scientists would want to understand what makes so-called Deviants tick. If nothing else, so the magicborn community can learn to defend itself from their extreme abilities.”

  “That wasn’t research,” Liv said. “That was torture.”

  “I’m not condoning it,” Asher said. “But I’m guessing most of the magicborn community would say the ends justify the means. Their warped view of keeping us safe comes first.”

  I groaned. If that brutal segment hadn’t convinced Asher, there was no way it would convince Matt. Our warlock pressed a button on the keyboard and the next clip started to play. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the screen. To my surprise, Liv continued to watch too.

  Three more clips punished my eyes. Two gargoyle shifters and an Omni, all hooked to the machine in hopes of extracting serum. All forced to reveal variant powers. All devastatingly heartbreaking.

  Then they brought in a succession of Mals. All were hooked up to the serum machine and tortured. The body count was astronomical. Some simply didn’t survive the torture. Others, like Tyler, couldn’t shut their power down and received a bullet to the heart. In several cases, no variant ability ever surfaced—those subjects were all executed immediately. The ones that survived seemed to be the unlucky ones, with nothing but more torment in their future.

  In the next clip, instead of a shaky camera filming a lab, a newsroom set filled the screen, complete with a strikingly handsome anchorman.

  “In the latest Amalgam rampage,” he reported, grim-faced, “authorities arrived on scene too late to avert the carnage.” A news story about Amalgams? How is that possible? “The small village of La Chappelle Sylvaner in the south of France was decimated today.” Cut to a clip of the mountainous village as the attack began.

  Asher stopped the video. “This is one of the incidents I was telling you about.”

  As I stared at the monitor I realized that this wasn’t ordinary TV. Magic was visible on the video. Red, blue, and gold bursts were paused in mid-flash across the screen. How did they even film that?

  “There’s a magicborn news show?” Liv yelled the same question I was thinking. “On. What. Channel?”

  Asher looked a trifle guilty. “Magicborn Cable Network. It’s warded, of course,” he added, “so the Wonts can’t tune in.”

  “But I could have been tuning in, every day for months now,” I said, outraged that he would hold out on me like that. “I could have been learning more about our culture, maybe even picking up new spells.”

  “Sorry if I didn’t want the Spelldrift’s two most promising witches wasting their time glued to magicborn soaps.”

  “Please tell me there are magicborn soaps,” Liv said.

  “Soaps, comedies, ghastly magical cooking shows, lifestyle programming.” He shuddered. “Regina Jeffries of our own Spelldrift Witches’ Assembly hosts a sketchy real estate show. It’s a dreadful invention, this channel. Almost as bad as magicborn social media.”

  “What? The things you don’t tell us!” Liv said.

  “Thanks for protecting us, Dad.” I took a moment in this respite. “You need to show us how to watch it, right now.”

  Asher obliged, using his phone to demonstrate how to execute an opening spell on a technological device, to get through Wont-wards. At the top of the lineup was a cooking show hosted by a cheerful older warlock. Today’s episode showcased the technique of stirring three pots at once using an agitation spell.

  I wanted to keep exploring the merits of whimsical programming. To keep the horrors at bay…and never return to them. But I’d promised Masumi.

  Asher hit the key to restart the video. The screen was blank for a brief second…and then a new clip began. The footage was rough. Shot on a handheld camera. But as I watched, I realized it was of the same village. But this video was uncut.

  We were in a quaint living room, jam-packed with the same Mals we’d seen on the street in the newsclip. But here, they were hunkered in a corner, quaking with fear. Fidei soldiers were holding guns pointed at them.

  A black-clad Fidei agent yelled at a hulking Mal man and white subtitles flashed across the screen: “I am not going to ask you again.” He grabbed a small blond boy, maybe eight or nine, and put a gun to his head. “You want your son to live through the night, you’ll get out there and start flaring. I want you to incinerate everyone you see. That is if you want your son to live.”

  “Please god, no. Don’t force me to make this choice.” Tears streamed down the burly man’s face.

  “I told you I wasn’t going to going to ask again.” He pulled the trigger, and the little boy’s head exploded in a red mist. A little piece of me died inside as I watched the Fidei agent toss the child’s corpse to the floor like it was bag of trash. The giant of a man, rather than attacking, crumpled to the ground and cradled his son’s lifeless body, weeping uncontrollably.

  The Fidei agent walked down the wall of trembling villagers. He pulled an old woman into the crook of his arm and pointed his gun at her heart. “Okay, grandma. You go out there. Start killing or you die.”

  “Please, why are you doing this?” Even though her voice quavered, I could sense her bravery.

  “Not your concern,” Fidei said. “Do it or die.”

  “I am not a Mal,” she said in a small but clear voice. “I have no special powers.”

  “Then you’re worse,” the agent spat with disdain. “You’re a sympathizer.”

  “Yes,” she said with obvious pride. “And we’ve lived peacefully alongside the blended ones for hundreds of years—”

  Her words stopped as he pulled his trigger again. I forced myself to watch as the light left her wise old eyes. Masumi had been right. I couldn’t unsee this.

  And I would never be the same again.

  The video cut back to Masumi alone in her lab.

  “What you just witnessed is the Fidei’s version of propaganda. They need the magicborn community to live in fear of the Amalgams and Deviants, to justify their exploitation of this vulnerable population. There has never been a documented case of an Amalgam rampage. And the brave young Fidei agent who smuggled out this raw footage gave his life to get it to me.

 
“What you’ve just viewed proves without a doubt that Amalgams and Deviants are being hunted not because they are dangerous, but because they are powerful. There is a black ops directive to develop drugs in top-secret facilities, to harness the subjects’ power and use them in a variety of genetic-medical applications. With a particular interest in enhanced combat scenarios.”

  Enhanced combat? Secret facilities?

  Get the body on ice to send to El Diablo.

  “I am not proud of what I’ve been a part of in an effort to bring you this information.” Masumi’s voice broke slightly but her gaze remained steadfast. “I know nothing will absolve me of the blood that is on my hands. My life is rightfully forfeit. I pray that god has mercy on my soul.”

  The screen faded to black, and we sat in a stunned silence. My face was wet with tears. This nightmare had been going on for decades. A wave of powerless grief rolled over me.

  “Dear god,” Asher said, any certainty of what he thought he knew was gone. He pulled the drive out and handled it with a reverence I didn’t know he had in him. Asher locked the drive in his Hamilton safe. Calling his golden magic to his fingertips, he threw another ward on top of the safe for good measure. The building was warded, the room was warded and covered in a misdirection spell. I prayed our planning was enough to protect the drive. Though I knew once we released this information there was no protecting Masumi.

  Even though the drive was locked away, images from the video flashed before my eyes when I blinked. I knew I’d have a hard time sleeping tonight.

  “I need a drink,” Asher said.

  “You mean another one?” I shot back, referring to whatever additive he’d put in his tea.

  Asher tilted his head, in what I know he meant to be a silent cocky retort. But all I saw was the pain in his eyes. Now was not the time for a conversation about responsible drinking.

  Liv stood, wiped her eyes, and grabbed her denim jacket off the back of the chair. “Sanctum. Now.”

  Chapter Four

  Sanctum’s weekday happy hour crowd of tech-worker teams and first dates had dispersed, leaving a few tables of regulars chatting among themselves. Asher and Liv slid into our usual booth nearest to the bar. I waved to Emma—who now co-owned this place and was my boss—before sitting down.

  The slim single mom nodded back at me, then began efficiently loading her tray with an assortment of cocktails Brett had prepared. Lately Emma had been popping out mid-shift to work what amounted to a second job. That is, when she’d bought Sanctum a couple of months ago, she bought the whole building, including seven posh apartments upstairs that she was now in the process of getting rented out. Given how hard she worked herself, I thought, not without guilt, it was amazing she put up with Matt’s and my frequent absences.

  Mind you, I wished I could work more shifts at Sanctum. For a minute, I longed to jump behind the bar and take over right now. Let the rhythm of practiced movements melt away all the horrible visions that were fresh in my mind. But I knew not even the task I loved so much could lighten the pain I was feeling.

  “What the hell do we do with this information?” Liv rubbed her temples, looking overwhelmed. “I mean, man. We’re just some little coven in the Spelldrift. That video showed unspeakable crimes…”

  “Masumi was right, I can’t unsee this,” I said. “I knew the magicborn world was broken, what with demons walking our city streets, and spoiled rich vampires loosing unholy relics on the world. Not to mention my own aunt was a dark witch. But the killing of innocents took it to a whole new level…”

  I let the thought trail off and looked up. Emma was standing in front of our table, tray tucked under her arm.

  “Hello?” Asher said, aghast. “Circle of Silence.”

  Shit. I’d had the drive less than a day, and I was already talking about it, unprotected, in public. “Sorry, Emma we’re just talking about the last GOT episode. Really bloody.”

  “Come on, guys,” Emma said, putting a hand on her hip. “You really haven’t figured it out yet?”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. Because of my newfound abilities I knew she wasn’t a magicborn. And my head and heart were reeling with the weight of Masumi’s “proof.” I sat there staring at Emma, no doubt looking as stumped as Liv and Asher did.

  “Do you think there is another boss out there that would let you work whenever the mood struck you?” Emma’s voice was calm. “That wouldn’t care if you called in sick twice a week on a regular basis? That would keep a full-time backup on staff?”

  “Ah, I…”

  “I’m not mad. I do it to support the effort.” She rested her palm on the table and leaned forward. “Fidei lineage.” Emma put up her hand to stop any further conversation. “I don’t want to know. But I got your back, because that’s how our system works.” I was stunned speechless. Well, that sure explained a lot of things. “So, tell me what you want to drink. And get back to saving our city.”

  Duh. Of course she had to have known something. And wow, she was just starting her business and had made financial sacrifices to support us. Genuinely moved, I grabbed her hand. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” Liv echoed, tears welling in her eyes.

  “Whiskey, neat,” Asher said, turning away. But he couldn’t fool me, he was moved too.

  After Emma walked away with our drink and app order, Liv threw a circle of silence.

  “If the magicborn community knew this was going on they’d be incensed,” Liv finished my thought. “They wouldn’t allow it to continue.”

  An idea came to me. “Why don’t we contact that news show, the one on the warded cable channel?”

  “Who do you think edited the raw footage of La Chappelle Sylvaner?” Asher asked. “I can’t believe I was duped by that. This corruption runs so deep we have no idea who’s trustworthy.”

  “What if we hit magicborn social media directly?” Liv said. “Cut out the middleman.”

  “And let it be labeled fake news?” Asher sighed. “Whoever’s at the top of this evil chain of command are masters of manipulation. For decades, they’ve been moving covertly behind the scenes, getting funding without ever divulging the true nature of their work. You have to believe they’re prepared to fend off any PR threat to their system.”

  “Well, we can’t just sit here and do nothing, either.” Liv stood. “At least, I can’t.”

  “Me neither.” I touched her arm.

  “Nor should we,” Asher said quickly. “But we’re only going to have one shot at this. Whatever plan we come up with needs to be wide-reaching and bulletproof.”

  “I can at least research the system that got us here,” Liv said. “While I’m at the library reading room, I can look up how funding oversight works and find out what loopholes they’re using.”

  After two drinks each for me and Liv and four for Asher, we headed home. A light mist made the sidewalk shimmer under the streetlights. Maybe it was just the buzz, but I felt a tiny bit less awful than I had two hours ago. Knowing we were in this together made this pain bearable.

  I turned to Liv to ask her to look into the ethics board while she was at the research library, and the world started to rock like an earthquake. My vision dimmed. I felt my body falling back, Asher’s arms kept me from tumbling headlong down the stairs. I heard him calling my name, but he sounded like he was a hundred miles away. And the view before me wasn’t the Spelldrift…

  Crickets sang and a campfire crackled and glowed in the pitch-black night. Cool pine-scented air filled my lungs. A row of bunkhouses loomed in front of me, made barely visible by the fire’s glow. There was no one else around. The place looked long deserted.

  Like a tsunami, a wave of despair crashed down on me. I was swamped by the weight of it, so heavy I could barely draw a breath. I looked down and saw my hand protruding from a blue plaid flannel shirt, a long-neck beer in my grip. It wasn’t my arm, it was Matt’s. Somehow, I was in his head, in his body. Setting the beer down, he pulled a dagger fr
om its sheath. I felt the weight of the knife in his hand, his thumb stinging as he confirmed the edge of the deadly blade. What was he doing?

  He was hopelessness, soggy with alcohol. Fear had a firm hand around his heart—he was afraid of himself, afraid of what he’d become. NO! I tried to pull my/his hand away, tried to drop the dagger. His body wouldn’t respond. I was forced to merely observe as he pulled up the cuff of his shirt, revealing the muscles and veins of his wrist. He placed the point of the blade on the delicate skin. Blood welled up as the point pierced the flesh. Jesus Christ, no! I was screaming. He shifted his grip on the knife handle, preparing to drag it vertically across the veins. His primal yell blasted my ears, and he flung the blade across the campsite with all his strength.

  The campfire flickered and faded. My vision clouded, and slowly trees morphed into walls, my body became my own. I was back in Seattle, in a trembling heap on the sidewalk, staring into Liv and Asher’s freaked out faces.

  I explained what just happened, but the words came out too fast and jumbled.

  “Thank god,” Asher said, relieved. “It was just a coven vision.” He extended a hand to help me up.

  “Didn’t you hear what she just said?” Liv turned to him in horror. “Matt almost offed himself!”

  “No,” Asher corrected. “He was having a moment of crisis. Completely different thing. I thought she was having some kind of a seizure,” he said. “But I guess it’s official, Alix. You’re our coven leader. That’s why you tapped into the vision.”

  “I’m the leader?” I swallowed. My legs already felt a little shaky. This wasn’t helping.

  “And who exactly decided that?” Liv’s voice had a sharp edge. Was she envious, of a job I hadn’t asked for and didn’t want?