by A. L. Knorr
Leaving out all magus activity, I told him what happened. My cheeks burned as I recounted how I had chased Green Shirt through a crowd. It sounded even more foolish when I said it out loud.
"You ran after him?" he interrupted me.
"I did. I know it was stupid."
"Very." He made a single tsk sound. "Don't ever do anything like that again. I know you're a hero type, but you can't take the law into your own hands."
The fire flickered at his words and several retorts came to mind, but I clamped my lips against them. Instead, I apologized and promised I wouldn’t.
Moving quickly past the topic of my stupidity, I gave him the address and told him I'd be willing to ID the man if I had to. I reminded him that I was leaving Italy at the end of the summer. He thanked me for calling and said he'd probably have to call me back.
The moment I hung up, my phone chirped twice in rapid succession.
Targa had sent through an image of beautifully dressed people waltzing in a ballroom, with the caption: My mom's wind-up party is like a fairy-tale.
It really did look like a fairy tale. Huge chandeliers with what looked like real candles illuminated a ballroom filled with gowns and tuxedos. Jealousy clenched at my gut. Targa was having an amazing summer. While, I... well, I wasn't even sure I was human anymore. I tapped out a response: Holy crap, Targa. Why wasn't I invited?
Georjayna: What are you wearing? Send a pic of you and your mom.
A few minutes later an image came through of Targa and her gorgeous mother, Mira. Mira was barely smiling, but the two of them looked stunning. Mira wore a dark green column dress, not a stitch of makeup, and her hair swept up. Targa wore a simple black dress with a shawl. She looked even more like her mother than she had when she left. I zoomed in. Her skin seemed luminescent, and her eyes an even brighter blue than I was used to. Maybe she'd put a filter over the image.
Georjayna: Aaaaaaawwwwwww! You guys look amazing.
Me: Bella ragazza!
I'd have to see with my own eyes if Targa actually did look different when we all got back.
My phone went quiet for a while, but about ten minutes later it vibrated again.
Akiko: Hi guys. Nice pix, Targa.
I whooped and nearly dropped my cell. It felt so good to see her name on my phone again. I couldn't help but tease her: Who is this?!
Then the texts came fast and furious.
Georjayna: SHE LIVES
Akiko: Very funny.
Targa: Everything ok? We've been wondering when we'd hear from you.
Akiko: All ok. Gotta run. Sorry, I only have a few seconds.
"No! No! No!" I wailed. My fingers flew on the keyboard: Wait!
Targa: What are you doing, intelligence work for a secret agency in Japan or something?
I waited, holding my breath. But my phone had gone quiet. She was already gone. It chirped once and I inhaled sharply. But it was just Georjayna. Apparently she was feeling the same way I was: Bollocks.
I dropped my head back and groaned. A desire to go home and get back to my life, back to my friends swept over me. Targa had cryptically reported that her 'libido-lessness' was no longer a problem, but wouldn't disclose more information. Georjie had said, in her refined and understated way, that she and Jasher had become 'close.' I could have screamed in frustration with them both. I was dying to get the real stories, in the flesh. But no one had been more mysterious than Akiko. I wasn't sure whether I was going to strangle her or hug her when I saw her next.
But how could I go back to my regular life? And my relationships with my friends? I'd wager that none of them were going through anything so life-changing as me.
But you can't tell them. You can't tell anyone.
I have to tell someone or I'll explode!
I blew air out between pursed lips. These inner arguments were exhausting.
My phone chirped again.
Fed: Meet me at my place tonight at 15:30? I'll make pizza and we can catch up. She'd attached a GPS link with a little pin. I zoomed in on the address. She lived in a very ritzy borough. Curiosity to see her villa tugged at me.
Me: Absolutely. I really want to catch up with you.
Another text came in. From Dante.
I always get what I want, Saxony. Remember that.
I stared at the words on the screen and ground my teeth. I made a fist and then flexed my hand. A ball of white flame flared up in my palm and crackled and snapped as it died away.
Twenty-Nine
I followed my GPS to the address Fed had texted me. The villas in this borough seemed to grow larger and more beautiful the deeper I went. I crossed the final courtyard and approached a metal door labeled with her address. After pressing the buzzer, I waited.
"Hey, Saxony. Come on in," Fed's voice came.
Another buzzing noise unlocked the door. I pushed it open and stepped into a beautiful courtyard garden. A large in-ground swimming pool filled with sparkling teal water was surrounded by a white marble terrace and deck chairs. The marble patio led to the rear of the villa where a large table and chairs enough for eight people sat. Empty glasses still containing ice cubes peppered the table top as though a party had recently ended. Strange.
The weirdest feeling swept over me. Get out, Saxony. Now.
I blinked at the paranoid voice. Don't be ridiculous. Fed is my friend.
The other voice flew in like a vulture. He always gets what he wants. Remember?
The fire crackled low.
Dante's voice made me jump. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. I've always loved that saying. Come have a drink with us.”
He stepped out of the open patio door and onto the marble terrace. He was followed by all of the men from the boat except for Karim. They spread out on the patio and each took a seat. Jacopo carried a jug of spritz and began to fill the glasses. They all looked at me expectantly, even pleasantly. There was one empty chair. Jacopo turned it toward me and patted it, inviting me to sit.
Thirty
"Nice to see you again, Saxony," Jacopo said, smiling. "It's great you're thinking about joining the business, too. Dante says you have some special skills." His expression was friendly and open. I scanned the faces around the table. They all had the same open expression, all except Dante, who looked smug.
"Where's Fed?"
"She's inside. You can go on in and say hello if you want. We'll wait for you." Dante jerked his head toward the open door.
I approached the men slowly. They'd begun to look away from me now and speak with each other in Italian. A few of them laughed, their conversation appeared to be no different from any other chat happening between friends having a few drinks. Only Dante watched me as I stepped through the open patio door.
The villa was just as beautiful inside as it was out. A large clean kitchen was the first thing I saw. This place looked old on the outside but the interior had been recently updated.
"Fed?" I scanned the kitchen and living room area where a TV was tuned in to a regatta, a classically Venetian sport. There was no reply. I looked behind me, but no one had followed me in.
"Federica?" I called, louder this time.
"Up here!" I heard her voice from an upper level. She sounded...resigned.
Following her voice, I went through the kitchen and poked my head around a corner. I ascended a wide set of stairs. At the top of the stairs was a loft scattered with couches. Well-stocked library shelves lined the walls. Fed was seated on a sofa with her legs pulled up and her arms wrapped around her shins. Her eyes were puffy. As she looked at me, her face projected abject misery.
"I'm really sorry, Saxony," she said, her voice wavering.
"What's going on?" I sat beside her.
"He's locked the gate and the front doors. You won't be able to get out. Not without burning your way out and exposing yourself to everyone here, anyway. And I suggest you do not do that."
"He told you what I am?" The heat in my belly cranked up a notch.
She n
odded and rubbed her eyes. "Only this morning. I had no idea until I casually mentioned I was hoping to see you later today. He forced me to lure you here so he could trap you. I should never have taken you on the boat the night of the festival. This is all my fault."
"You didn't know what was going to happen. Did he tell you that I only recently acquired this, um, condition?"
"Yes. That's what set him off. He was shocked about that. He showed me a video that Nic recorded before he died, talking about how the power can be transferred. I know Dante told you who that is. Well, apparently, Nic had a son he left video clips for.”
I took this in, putting the pieces together. "I'm guessing Dante or Enzo has an arm inside one of the big banks?"
She huffed a humourless laugh. "Try, all of them."
"How did Dante know where to look?"
"He saw Elda's name on your phone and did the math."
I swore, softly. I had been sloppy. The night that Dante and I had gone swimming, he'd gotten an eyeful of Elda's texts. "How did he know she had anything in a lockbox?"
Fed gave me a look of pity. "Dante knew that Nic had recorded messages to someone. He was there. It didn't take much to figure out."
I put my face in my hands and groaned. I could feel the sympathy pouring off Fed, but it was draped in heavy layers of fear. She was terrified. I looked up. "What's he got over on you? Why did you help him?"
She shook her head and lowered her voice. "You don't know what he can do to me, Saxony. He could destroy my life if he wanted to. He's that malicious. You're a lot stronger than me, and a lot stronger than Dante. You'll figure out a way out of this. But if I had said no to Dante, it’s game over. I'll never get into the university I want, and he can redirect my inheritance. He can make things go bad for me."
"Who is running the show here—Dante or Enzo?"
"Dante's got his own resources, Saxony." She lowered her voice to a whisper, her hands strangling each other in her anxiety. "None of the guys down there knew Nic. They don't even know what a magus is. Don't let them know what you are or there will be big trouble for you."
I shook my head. "Unbelievable. What benefit does Dante hope to get from exposing me to his friends?" Regret soured in my mouth. How could I have ever been attracted to him? Now that I knew him for who he was he had transformed from attractive to repulsive, from intriguing to evil, from charming to narcissistic.
A creak echoed from the stairs and Fed froze, her eyes wide. She took a book from the shelf beside her and plucked a pencil from a drawer nearby. She scribbled furiously on a page in the book. She showed it to me, saying in a normal tone of voice, "It's probably better if you go along with him. Or at least listen to what he has to say."
Her scrawl was difficult to make out and riddled with errors. I squinted at it. They r not his friends. They r recruits. The more witnesses 2 your abilities, the more he has against you. Levredge. He'll impress them by showing a supernatural, and make you think you need his protection, at same time. Dante doesn't think I have the guts to warn you. He asked me 2 cnvince you to show fire, 4 your benefit. Pls, don't give me away.
I'd seen enough. "Let’s go," I said, standing.
"Where?"
"I'm going to get us out of here."
She ripped out the page she'd written on, folded and put it in her pocket, and returned the book to the shelf. "This is not how I thought my day would go. Try not to burn down the house, okay?"
I didn't answer. That depends on Dante. The fire was licking along my spine and down my arms, warming my fingertips.
She followed me downstairs. When we stepped out onto the patio, the men stopped talking.
"I'm glad you're back," Dante said, standing. If he'd been hovering at the bottom of the stairs, he hid it well. He held a hand out to me. "I was just telling the guys you'll give them a demonstration of your power."
"Power?" I said, fixing my face with confusion. I took Fed by the hand. "Really not sure what you're talking about, Dante. But Fed and I were just leaving." I pulled her past the table and across the patio toward the rear gate. "Excuse us, guys. Buona serata. Have a nice evening.”
"Come on, Saxony." Dante said, following us. "She's a little shy about how amazing she is," he said to the table of guys who were watching with interest.
Some of them chuckled, but they still looked at ease, sipping their drinks, enjoying the evening.
Stepping in front of me, Dante took my hand from Fed and pulled me around to face the table. "Just a small demonstration? You don't have to do much. Just a little candle flame, that's all."
"What are you going on about?" I said, my eyes on Dante, my face a mask of bewilderment. My mother never called me a little actress for nothing.
Some of the men at the table shared confused looks of their own.
Dante frowned. "You don't need to pretend, Saxony. They all know what you are."
"Do you know what he's talking about?" I asked Fed. I regretted it the moment I saw her face. I had just put her in an impossible position. I had asked her to side with me against Dante and a bunch of guys he was trying to build trust with. If she did, she'd have an enemy for life. Fed crossed her arms and gave a slight shrug, which could have been interpreted in a lot of different ways.
I turned back to Dante. "I'd like to go home now."
The words had barely escaped my lips when a coiled fist hit me in the gut. The air whooshed out of me and I bent over. He hadn't hit me really hard, just enough to tell me he meant business—and enough to light the fire.
From the men at the table, there was nothing but breathless silence. If they were shocked that he'd just hit a girl in front of them, they didn't express it outwardly. I was more surprised than hurt, and I knew instantly what he was trying to do. The heat of the fire intensified and began to spiral through my arms.
"Come on, Dante, you don't have to do that," Fed said. I felt her hand on my back.
"Go inside, Fed. This doesn't concern you." Dante's voice was calm; he probably thought he had this demonstration in the bag.
From my view of the ground, I saw her feet walk past me slowly, back toward the house.
I took a few steadying breaths. I closed my eyes and gathered my thoughts. I tasted fear on the back of my tongue. It wasn't fear of Dante, though—it was fear of the fire. Fear of my own lack of control, fear of my own temper.
The boys were undoubtedly watching me with rapt attention. I tried to bring tears to my eyes, but they were too dry. I stood slowly, my face fixed with fear.
"Why are you doing this Dante?" I whimpered. "What did I ever do to you? I told you I'll never go out with you again. Why can't you just accept that?"
"Ha! That's rich," laughed one of the men. Then he spoke in Italian to the men sitting at the table. A few of them laughed, but others remained silent.
"Come on, Saxony." Dante bent close to my ear. "Just a little show. That's all we want to see. Preferably without too much violence."
A battle raged inside me. It was me versus the fire. I swallowed and turned to the men at the table, moving my hand to my stomach. They didn't need to know that Dante’s punch hadn't really hurt. "This is the kind of guy you want to work for? A coward who hits women?"
Crack. My head snapped to the side when Dante hit my right cheek with his open hand. My body spun sideways and I went down on one knee. My vision turned red, peppered with white stars. That one hurt. The flames leaped and boiled in my torso, their power building. My limbs began to quiver.
I didn’t know how long I’d be able to stay in control.
Thirty-One
The back yard was completely silent after that hit. I remained crouched, my face turned away from the men, my eyes closed. I should have cried out to add drama but it had so caught me by surprise that I hadn't made a sound. I took deep, steadying breaths. I pushed the men watching the show out of my mind, and Dante too. I went inside to where the heat was.
I need you to stay hidden. Work with me on this one, okay?
In response, the flames fuelled my limbs with more energy. Nothing would have satisfied me more than to fire a fist into Dante's face.
"Let it out, sweetheart." Dante's voice came from behind me. "You know you want to."
I fixed my face with a tearful expression, even though I had no water in my eyes. I pulled the heat away from my face like it was an elastic band. The line of heat strained at the base of my skull, wanting me to release it, to light my pupils up. But if I did that, I was so screwed.
"Let me go," I whimpered. I hated the sound of my own voice—weak, petulant. It felt so wrong when I had so much power at my disposal. I looked up at Dante, and put my hand out. "Please stop, I don't know what you want."
Dante made a sound of disgust. "Quit the act, Saxony. Don't make me hit you again."
I stole a glance at the table of men. None of them looked sure about what was going on. Two of them whispered something to each other, their faces uncertain.
Dante drew back his foot and I braced for what was coming. I closed my eyes, wrapped myself around the fire, and clenched every muscle. When his foot caught me in the throat and I flew back, I almost didn't feel it. There was more pain from the explosion that went off inside me than in my neck. It felt as though every muscle fiber had a line of fire running through it. I couldn't draw air. I gave a strangled cough and choked in an effort to breathe. The force of the kick rolled me onto my stomach and I lay still except for my choked gasps.
I had lost my hold on the elastic and the heat snapped into my eyes. The were hard and hot and if I faced Dante, everyone would see them lit like embers.
A couple of the men spoke quickly in Italian. I didn't understand what they were saying but they sounded upset. They must have been addressing Dante because he spoke back to them in Italian, and then he switched to English and addressed me.
"Can't you, Saxony? You can stop me.” he said. "You're powerful enough to stop me a thousand times over. This is just an act. Another couple of well placed punches and you'll explode like a firework."
