by Jami Gray
Carefully staying clear of the broken warding sigils and fracture lines, I crouched down. Some of the savaged ends of the wire held bits of bloody fur, and stuck in the gore were two shiny pieces of something translucent. Looking around, I found a piece of broken plastic and used it to poke through the mess while I stayed outside the nulled circle. I nudged aside more pieces of broken cage and clumps of fur and found a bigger, more defined piece of the see-through material. When I used the plastic to move it, it left behind a shallow groove in the cement.
I sucked in breath. “What the hell?”
Sensing movement behind me, I twisted to see Zev staring at the same thing, his face carefully blank. I turned back to what appeared to be an insect-like shell, which had to be as strong as titanium since it could scrape concrete. At roughly two inches long, it was veined through with virulent red. It was disturbingly fascinating. I was no entomologist, but it looked an awful lot like an empty cicada shell. Correction—a shell from a mutant cicada on steroids.
Using the plastic to point to the weirdness, I turned to look at Zev. “This doesn’t make sense.”
His gaze met mine, something dark and terrible working in his eyes, but his voice was flat. “It does if Neil progressed to live experiments.”
“If Neil stole the beta version of the serum, why would he waste it like that? According to Stephen, there was a limited amount of the serum, right? Not to mention, Stephen indicated the beta version was missing a critical component. I can’t see Neil cracking that mystery this fast, can you?” I aimed that last at Imogen, who as the Trask Arbiter was in a better position than the rest of us to answer.
She curled a hand into a fist at her side, but her voice remained clinical. “If Neil chose to use the serum, it’s possible his familiarity with the research allowed him to identify the final necessary component.” Her gaze went to Bryan before shifting away. She pivoted, stalked around the table, and headed toward the mess scattered behind it. “Perhaps he believes he’s finalized the serum.”
Part of me wanted to argue with Ms. Know-It-All that unlocking the “necessary component” couldn’t be that easy if Origin still hadn’t managed to do so before this mess went down, but what did I know? Instead, I focused on a more immediate worry. “What the hell was in this cage?”
Zev shrugged and handed me the broken plastic. Then he straightened and went to join Imogen’s search. I pushed to my feet, my gaze searching the gloom edging the room just out of reach of the overhead light, my mind conjuring all sorts of twisted lab experiments. Maybe I should cut back on how much Mystery Science Theater I watched.
“Is it still here, you think?” I couldn’t quite stifle a squeak of panic. The thought of some rabid science experiment lurking about made me jumpy as hell, but I seemed to be the only one with a vivid imagination.
“I think we’re safe.” Bryan kicked an empty file box and watched it bounce across the floor and settle against the wall. “If something was here, it would’ve made itself known by now.”
“You sure about that?” I muttered, not expecting an answer even as I kept peering around, trying to reassure myself that the shadows were just shadows.
“Well,” Bryan drawled, “since nothing tore out my throat when I did the initial walk-through and we’re not under attack now, yep.”
“Guys, you need to see this,” Imogen said. We turned to find her standing by the far counter near a dark corner, her lips pinched in disgust as she looked at us from over her shoulder. “I think I found your lab experiment, or what’s left of it.” Her phone’s light was aimed at the floor in front of her.
We headed over. Sure enough, crumpled in the corner was a pile of bloody fur that belonged to what looked initially like an oversized rat, but there was something wrong with it. The longer I stared at it, the worse the sense of wrongness grew. “That is a rat, right?”
Zev took the forgotten piece of plastic from me and crouched. He flipped the carcass over. I sucked in a breath while Bryan coughed and turned away. Imogen muttered something I couldn’t make out, and the light in her hand jiggled then steadied.
Zev used the plastic to nudge the body into the light, exposing short fur patched with a lot of open wounds. “I don’t think so.”
Putrid odor hit my nose about the same moment I registered that the wounds were a mixed batch, some filled with pus, some just torn flesh. Zev used the plastic to prod the curled foreleg off the gore-covered chest. It was short and stubbed and seemed malformed. While it matched the other foreleg, it didn’t match the much longer and more muscular back legs. Under Imogen’s light, I could also see that the muzzle was more feline than rodent. It lay on the ground so that one ear with a wiry tuft of hair at its tip was visible. My stomach pitched at the decided wrongness of it all.
Zev’s face was grim, and he said with a hint of disgust, “If was to guess, I’d say someone magically spliced a rat and cat.”
Imogen made a noise, and Zev looked up. For a long moment, the two stared at each other, and I got the impression they knew something I didn’t. Since I was still finding my footing in our strange group dynamic, I didn’t confront either of them. Instead, I focused on confirming where logic was taking me. There was only one kind of mage that could take two organic compounds and merge them into one.
I looked at Bryan. “Was Neil a Fusor?”
Bryan’s stony expression was an answer in itself, but he still said, “Yeah, but my understanding is that his skills were pretty basic and limited to a micro level, not complex organics.”
Which I’m sure was a huge benefit in Neil’s chosen career. But if Neil had held enough magic to meld living beings, the Arcane Council would have contained him long before this. At least, I hoped so, as that kind of magic was closely monitored and highly restrictive for obvious reasons.
“Well, Chloe was a numerical mage, so I’m pretty sure she’s not behind this.” I turned to Imogen. “What about Origin’s team? Any Fusors?”
She flicked a look at Zev. “Not anymore.”
First, not the answer I expected, and second, what? Then I remembered something said at the meeting. “Wait, Lara was a Fusor?”
“Lara was a multilevel Fusor,” Zev confirmed. “Her expertise was at the nano level, but she was able to work at the micro level as well. It’s why her knowledge was coveted.”
Coveted would be a damn good way to put it, considering the Delphi project centered on neurological changes in the brain. It didn’t explain the Frankensteinian critter in the corner. However, looking down at the nightmarish proof that something more might be at play made me wonder.
What if Neil finalized a version of a serum created to unlock magical potential, and since he was no longer hampered by the constraints of a monitored lab, he decided to use himself as a test subject? It was crazy, but looking at the dead rat-cat, I was starting to think Neil was a lot more dangerous than anyone anticipated, which not only moved the serum from a hypothetical threat to viable threat but also upped the pucker factor significantly.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that Neil has leveled up,” I said.
“We need to find Neil and contain him.” Imogen’s voice was so cold I was surprised ice wasn’t forming around us.
Bryan studied the dead rat-cat, his face grim. His next words confirmed that I wasn’t the only one thinking about worst-case scenarios. “If he was stupid enough to use an experimental version of the serum, he may already be dead or dying.”
Or about to go nuclear on a magical level. I managed not to share my fear out loud.
“Imogen’s right.” Zev rose. “Our priority needs to be containment.” He tossed aside the piece of plastic. It hit the wall and rattled to the floor.
Something flew up with a harsh hum and darted straight at Bryan, who managed to bat it away with a sharp curse. “What the hell was that?” He shook out his arm as he stared in the direction the thing had gone.
There was the dull sound of an object hitting metal, then the dan
gling light fixture began to swing. Imogen aimed her phone’s light at the direction of the sound. It danced over the broken monitor and glinted off of something perched on the plastic edge.
“Holy shit.” Her words came out on a low breath.
The biggest cicada I’d ever seen stared back at us, its red eyes aimed right at us in a creepy insect-like way, its wings moving so fast they were a blur. The buzzing bored into my skull until it vibrated in my teeth. Before I could get my hands over my ears, a single line of blue power whipped along my peripheral vision, and the accompanied wave of magic seared along my skin. The buzzing stopped, and the cicada body toppled off its precarious perch. As it hit the floor, it bounced twice with the dull thud of a ball bearing on concrete then fell still.
Slowly, I turned my head to see Zev, just behind me, lowering his hand. His gaze met mine as the glow of magic slowly receded from the dark depths. Imogen grabbed something from the nearby table and walked past us. I turned to watch as she collected the dead insect in a jar. She lifted it up and rattled it. You could hear the insect bounce off the glass with high-pitched tings that were not normal. Bryan came up on my other side, rubbing at his arm.
I swallowed a couple of times until my heart rate dropped back into the normal range and finally managed a relatively steady, “You okay?”
Bryan grimaced. “Yeah, it just hit me.” He stopped rubbing and lifted his arm to reveal a raised welt, but as far as I could tell, there was no broken skin. “It’s nothing.”
Zev went to Imogen and took the container, carefully studying it. “Looks like another experiment of some kind.” A soft blue aura wrapped around the jar, sinking through glass to cover the insect. He shook the container gently, and the disturbing tings sounded again. “Those aren’t natural wings.”
Great. Mutant insect— just what we need on an already creepy assignment. I suppressed a shiver.
Imogen rummaged around on the table and found a salvageable lid. Reclaiming the mutant bug, she said, “I’ll send it to the lab to have it tested, see if they can tell what happened to it.” She didn’t sound optimistic.
Bryan made his way to the remains of the computer. Staying clear of Imogen and her bug, I followed along. Together, we started poking through the mess.
I set a dented case aside and saw that Bryan was working a hard drive loose. “Anything salvageable?”
He pulled out a square drive that looked as if it had been left in a hot car too long and looked at it in disgust. “Not likely. I’m not sure anyone, even an electro mage, will be able to recover anything from these.” He handed it over, and I realized that not only had the drive been warped by serious heat, but there were holes pocketing the entire thing as well, almost as if it had been left in an acidic rain shower. Whatever had left those marks had ensured that restoration would be impossible.
Zev moved back to the other computer and spent a few minutes digging through the electronic remains. It didn’t take him long to find the drive. Still in a squat, he twisted, warped drive in hand. “Same thing here.” He tossed it back onto the floor.
Next to me, Bryan kicked the useless pile of electronics in frustration. A couple of burnt pieces of paper rose in the resulting puff of air, only to drift back down. I used a finger to gently snake through the remains. “They even burned the paper files.”
Zev stood, his hands on his hips, as he glared around the space. “So we’ve got nothing?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Imogen said.
We all turned to find her crouched in front of the table with the bug-filled container. Since I could barely see her, I got up and moved closer to watch her brush her fingertips across the floor. “What is it?”
She shot me a look and then turned back. “Remains of an Arcane circle.”
“For…?” Zev strode over and came to a stop on Imogen’s other side.
She shook her head, her arms braced on her thighs as she rubbed her fingertips together. “Not sure.” She brought her fingers to her nose and inhaled. “Nothing.” She rose as Zev dropped into a crouch. She looked around and found a scrap of cardboard to wipe her fingers on.
At her feet, Zev used his hand to brush aside the debris. He took his time until he had revealed a two-foot section. Marks covered the floor, some a deep black, others a mix of whatever had spilled, with a few white ones as if the concrete had been gouged out.
I had no idea what he was looking at because all I could see were scrapes that could have come from something being shoved across the floor or from whatever violence had torn through the space. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the marks to match up to any known sigil. I wanted to ask Imogen if she was sure but thought better of it. No sense in pissing her off more than my mere presence already did.
Zev didn’t take his attention from the floor. “Imogen, can you make sure there’s no spillage?”
“Easy enough.” Imogen moved to stand behind him. She lifted her arms at her sides, palms facing out.
Knowing what was about to happen, I braced just as she made a soft murmur I couldn’t make out, and a white light luminesced in a precise circle, arcing from palm to palm and rising into a dome. Her magic rushed along my skin with chill, silent breeze. Blue flames of power flickered to life in Zev’s hands, but the only magic I could feel was Imogen’s.
Bryan came and stood at my side, one hip against the table, his arms folded across his chest. I barely spared him a glance, too fascinated by what Zev and Imogen were doing. From my position, I couldn’t see Zev’s face, so I was left with witnessing his movements.
He braced his arms on his knees and brought his hands up, fingertip to fingertip, fingers spread wide. Inside that gap, a familiar globe of indigo snapped to life and became a mesmerizing sphere of silent flame. Now I could feel the barely leashed power of his magic under a thin shell of ice, the combination of their power making my skin jump.
Tongues of flames licked up his arms, stopping just below his shoulders. Something unseen shifted—I could feel the pressure of the change like an invisible touch. He drew his hands apart, and his magic coalesced in his left palm and arm. He reached down and touched something on the floor. The flash was so bright it left me blinking away afterimages. When my vision cleared, I finally saw what Imogen was talking about.
Zev’s magic stretched along the markings, his power running the gamut from navy to pale blue. The darker colors filling in areas where there were no marks to follow until the outline of an Arcane circle floated about five inches above the floor. Some of the sigils were crystal clear. There were markings for containment and a couple that I recognized for bindings, but there were others I’d never seen before. That was no surprise, as circles were generally used in extremely advanced spell work, something I didn’t have much experience with considering that my magic was innate and less complex. And this was extremely advanced, which meant it fell under the Arbiters’ bailiwick, so I let them do their thing.
Next to me, Bryan leaned forward. “Well, shit.”
“What?” I asked.
He moved around the edges of the circle that Zev’s magic revealed, crouched at about the seven o’clock position, and looked at Zev. “Did you see this?”
“Yeah.” Zev sounded far from happy.
“Neil’s definitely fucking with things he shouldn’t,” Bryan said.
“If it’s Neil we’re dealing with and not something other.” Imogen’s attention was on the markings.
I swallowed hard. That didn’t sound good at all.
“I don’t think he managed a portal,” Zev answered absentmindedly, shifting just a bit so he could extend an arm to point at the four o’clock position. “That one over there is incomplete. Means he was either trying to combine sigils or retracing from memory.”
“Well, it’s a hell of a mistake,” Bryan said then winced. “No pun intended.”
“But it’s still a mistake,” Imogen pointed out.
My brain filled in the gaps of their conversation, and I did no
t like the picture it painted. “So no portal to hell, then, right?”
Bryan’s lips twitched. Imogen shot me a look filled with disdain, but Zev shook his head. “No portal to hell, just a twisted mess of shoddy runes.”
“Which explains how the lab experiments managed to escape,” Bryan pointed out. “Neil’s shit at spell work.”
“But someone is feeding him enough to get by.” Zev did something that snuffed out the steady press of magic and flicked off the switch for the light show, leaving the space once more draped in mediocre lighting and edged in shadows.
At the same time, Imogen dropped her protective circle. The two actions happened so close together, with no verbal communication, that it was clear the two had worked together before. Even knowing my reaction was juvenile, I was bothered by that.
Zev straightened, and so did Bryan, who checked his watch and said, “Dammit, I’ve got to head out. I’ve got something I need to take care of.” He looked at Imogen. “I should be done around six. Want me to touch base with you then?”
“Sure.” She turned, picked up the mutant bug jar, and headed over. “I’ll get this dropped off, then I have a few things to follow up on.”
Bryan turned to Zev and me. “And you two? What’s up next for you?”
“Interview with Dr. Kerri Michaels,” Zev said. “We’ll let you both know if anything comes of it.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Imogen turned to me, her eyes hard, her tone snide. “Can we assume you’ll be updating Sabella?”
Refusing to rise to her bait, I blithely shot back, “You assume correctly.”
Her eyes flashed, and her lip curled, but she spun away and stalked to the door. By the time Zev and I stepped outside, she was already in her car and reversing out of her spot. I put my sunglasses back on and watched her drive away while Bryan pulled the door close. When a brush of magic hit my back, I turned to see him add the final touches to a ward.
When he caught me watching, he grinned. “Don’t want anyone poking around in here.”
“What if he comes back?”
