Mags & Nats 3-Book Box Set

by Stephanie Fazio

“What do we do now?” Bri asked. Her skin kept going from flesh to titanium and back again.

  “We may be against Marking,” Kaira said, “but if the Alliance falls, there will be nothing to keep Boston from slipping into the gutters.”

  “And when Valencia nominates herself as the new governing power of Boston, we’ll be worse off than even the worst cities,” I said. “She’ll try to enslave Naturals.”

  “And Nats won’t take that sitting down,” A.J. added. “They’ll bring in the military. Boston’ll turn into another Detroit.”

  Michael’s face paled, and I remembered Yutika telling me that Michael was from Detroit.

  “So, what do we do?” Yutika asked.

  “We could go to the police,” Bri suggested. “Tell them what we know.”

  A week ago, I would have agreed with Bri. I’d believed so fully in the system that made Boston better than everywhere else in the country. Now, the memory of my arrest was too raw for me to have faith in that particular branch of law enforcement.

  “Who’s gonna believe us?” Smith asked.

  “We don’t have any proof,” Kaira added.

  “We can’t go to the cops, I said, my mind churning. “We have to go straight to the Alliance. The BSMU’s president is on the Alliance’s Board of Peaceful Resolutions. If we can get him to believe us, he can tell everyone else on the board.”

  “Do you think he’ll listen to us?” Kaira asked, her voice doubtful.

  “He has to,” I replied with more confidence than I felt. “It’s in his job description to take any potential threat against the city’s Natural and Magic populations seriously. And he’s a big enough deal that everyone else on the Board will listen to him.

  I had met the school’s president a few times at various dinners, and I felt fairly certain that even if he felt the same way about me as the rest of the city, he’d at least listen once I told him about a threat to the Alliance. No one in the Alliance would want to risk the possibility of the organization being disbanded. He would be able to make the police arrest Valencia without hard evidence.

  “Smith, can you—” I began.

  “I’ve got his personal cell number here,” Smith said with a self-important grin.

  “Will he be able to trace the call?” Bri asked, biting one of her nails.

  “What do you take me for?” Smith scowled at her before turning his attention to me. “You ready?”

  I nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  The Six went silent as Smith unplugged his headphones from the laptop and spun it toward me. Without touching the computer, Smith made a dial pad appear on the screen. The ring tone began. On the fourth ring, the call connected.

  “Hello?”

  “Dr. Pruwist, this is Graysen Galder.”

  Silence.

  I decided not to waste time easing in.

  “Sir, please don’t hang up. I have reason to believe Valencia Stark has been orchestrating the city-wide murders in an attempt to enact Section 278, Article 3, 998J of the Alliance’s Report of Laws for Naturals and Magics. It states that—”

  “Graysen Galder,” the man hissed. “Where the hell are you?”

  I evaded the question. “Sir, there have been four murders in as many days, and I believe the murders will continue until the city’s Magics vote to repeal the Alliance’s authority. Once that happens, we’ll be leaderless and without a working system of government. I believe Valencia intends to use the chaos in order to further upend peace between Magics and Naturals.” And then, taking a page out of A.J.’s book of the dramatic, I said, “Valencia wants to start a war.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw A.J. give me a thumbs-up.

  Another few moments of silence passed.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Pruwist snarled.

  The fury in his voice took me aback. “Sir?”

  “You’ve raked the good name of this institution through the mud. The school’s reputation is under fire, and it’s your fault!”

  I hadn’t expected the school’s president to be happy with me, but I had expected those feelings to take a backseat to the more pressing issue of the Alliance’s destruction.

  “Dr. Pruwist, the only crime I’m guilty of is evading my arrest. I have every intention of answering for that crime, but first, we need to safeguard the Alliance, and that begins with arresting Valencia Stark.”

  “You listen here, you pompous little shit,” Pruwist said, his voice quavering with barely-contained rage. “You turn yourself in immediately. The BSMU’s lawyers have prepared a statement, which you will sign, that makes it clear you acted in direct opposition to the policies and philosophy taught to students at the BSMU.”

  I couldn’t believe it. I had just told this man about the impending deconstruction of the Alliance and the promise of more murders, and the BSMU’s president was concerned about saving face?

  “Haven’t you been listening?” I demanded, all pretenses of politeness falling away. “The Alliance is being threatened. If any more murders take place, the whole institution could be disbanded. There will be complete chaos. No one will be able to stop Valencia and the UnAllied from taking over the city. You have to warn Director Remwald and everyone else on the Board.”

  “You get your ass to the police station now and sign that statement!” Pruwist bellowed.

  The call ended.

  I sat, stunned, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  I just told the BSMU’s president that the Alliance, and the entire city of Boston, was under threat. And he was worried about…optics?

  No one outside of this room gave a damn about the murders. All they cared about was a neat resolution they could brag about during their press conferences.

  This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the Alliance I knew…the one I’d built my future around. And yet, it was the only version of the Alliance I’d encountered since my arrest.

  Where did that leave me? Where was I supposed to go from here?

  “Should we go over his head? Get the man’s boss on the phone? File a complaint?” A.J. asked.

  I shook my head slowly, still overwhelmed by the spectacular failure of that conversation. “He was our best option. If he wouldn’t listen, no one else will.”

  Saying those words out loud made something inside me break. I felt every joint in my body shriek in protest. It was all just too much. I collapsed on the floor, my body incapable of moving. The pain flooding through me made tears leak from my eyes.

  “Ohmygosh what’s happening?” A.J. wailed.

  Somewhere through the pain, I heard Kaira’s voice, clear and unpanicked. “Bri, help him onto the couch. Someone get him some ibuprofen.”

  The pain receded enough for me to feel ashamed.

  “I’m fine,” I managed through clenched teeth.

  Kaira stood just within my view, not hovering, but there.

  In a few more seconds, the pain passed enough for me to force myself to my feet without help, even though my entire body fought against me. I didn’t want to look at any of the others and see the pity in their faces, but I also wasn’t the type of person who hunched his shoulders and averted his gaze.

  When I looked at Bri and Michael, who were both waiting to catch me in case I fell again, I didn’t see the emotions I was expecting. There was a hardness to both of their gazes that said they had each seen their share of pain and misery, and mine was just one more tally to whatever they’d already experienced themselves. They didn’t stare at the way my fingers had curled in on themselves, looking strange and unnatural, or at the way my teeth were now chattering from the fever that held me in its grip.

  “I, uh, have an autoimmune disease,” I said into the silent room. “It’s not contagious or anything. And it isn’t usually this bad.”

  “I’m going to make you some vegan chicken soup,” A.J. announced, settling himself onto a bean bag as ingredients began to get themselves out of the fridge.

  “Vegan chicken?” Yutika
asked, looking skeptical. “Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

  “Honey girl, just you wait.” A.J. gave her a sly look. “It’ll cure anything you’ve got.”

  I should have felt exposed now that my secret was out. My closest friends at the BSMU hadn’t known about my disease, and now a bunch of people I’d known for less than a week had seen me at my most vulnerable. Still, none of them acted weird or unnerved. I was more grateful than words could say.

  “So, if no one’s going to help us, then it’s up to us to save our city?” Bri asked, picking up where the conversation had left off.

  A bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water flew through the air and hovered in front of me. I gave A.J. a nod of thanks before grabbing them out of the air.

  “Maybe once we have hard proof, the authorities will be easier to convince,” Kaira said, giving me a sympathetic glance.

  “Why don’t we get Michael to Whisper to Valencia, and then we record the conversation?” Yutika suggested. “If we can get a confession out of her, the police can do the rest.”

  “The police are probably part of this,” Smith said, waving his poison detector wand over a pudding cup as he squinted suspiciously at the unbroken seal.

  Yutika made a dismissive noise.

  “I do like the idea of getting a confession out of her, though,” Kaira said. “It’ll be the fastest way to clear Graysen’s name and get her arrested before she can murder anyone else.”

  “So, what are we waiting for?” Bri asked, her skin turning to titanium. “Let’s go.”

  “You planning to walk to California?” Smith asked.

  “Excuse me?” she turned back to look at him.

  In answer, a giant image of a Delta flight boarding pass popped up on the wall. It read Stark, Valencia at the top, and underneath, a flight from Boston to LA was listed.

  “What’s she doing in LA?” Yutika asked.

  “Recruiting, apparently,” Smith said, displaying a news article onto the wall.

  Valencia Stark’s Rallying Cry for the Separation of Magics and Naturals Gaining Traction Out West, the article’s title stated.

  “When is she coming back?” Kaira asked.

  “Her flight lands an hour before the rally on Saturday,” Smith said, his eyes on his computer screen.

  “Well, at least that gives us,” Kaira glanced at the screen of her phone, “almost thirty hours to come up with a plan for how we’re going to do this.” She rubbed her eyes.

  A.J. turned to Bri and frowned. “Are you crying, love bug?”

  “I’m sorry.” Bri sniffled. “I’m just so tired.” She wiped her sleeve across her eyes.

  “Alright, that’s enough,” Kaira said. “We all need to get some sleep before we turn into useless zombies.”

  “Too late,” Yutika said, listing her head to the side and making a jerky, zombie-like motion as she leaned into Michael. The big guy’s lip twitched like he was trying not to smile.

  “We’ll figure out what to do about Valencia after we’ve gotten some sleep,” Kaira said.

  I stayed motionless on the couch long after the others had gone upstairs. My mind was reeling from the revelation about Valencia and what she was planning. I was still haunted by the headlines about Boston’s mayor. He was dead because I had chosen to stay hidden.

  I knew Kaira was right—that the murders wouldn’t stop until we’d exposed Valencia’s whole sick agenda, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

  By the time I made it upstairs, I found Kaira already asleep on top of the covers. Her body was precariously balanced on the edge of the bed. She had one shoe on and the other off. Her shirt was half-over her head, like she’d fallen asleep while she was in the process of changing.

  My heart expanded. I felt my lips curve into a smile at the sight of her, before I remembered myself and set my features.

  Once upon a time, I wouldn’t have hesitated to finish undressing her, tuck her under the covers, and then wrap my own body around hers. But I didn’t have that right anymore. Nor did I want it, I reminded myself.

  “Kai,” I said in a low voice.

  She didn’t react, and I didn’t have the heart to wake her.

  I knelt to take off her other boot. I pulled her shirt back into place, keeping my eyes carefully averted from her chest and the bra that was peeking out. I made a valiant effort at ignoring the way her pants clung to the curves of her hips and showed off her bare stomach. I lifted her off the bed enough to free the blanket, which I pulled over her. Kaira didn’t wake through any of it.

  Since all I wanted to do was stand there and look at her like some kind of creepy stalker, I retreated into the bathroom and shut the door between us. I stripped off my clothes and got into the shower, using the cold water to knock some sense of reality and self-preservation back into me. I needed the distraction of the punishing cold to keep away the memories of all the times Kaira and I had used this shower together.

  The 3-in-1 body wash I used—and Kaira had always teased me about—was long gone. The fifteen other bottles that I had always made fun of her for were still here. I grabbed one at random, which smelled like some kind of tropical fruit, and washed off quickly.

  When I went through the bag of clothes from A.J., I was amused to find that he had been thoughtful enough to include a pair of pajamas among his other purchases. They were flannel and had what appeared to be tiny rhinoceroses all over them. But I felt more like myself—more like the person I’d been before this week—in my own clothes. So, I changed back into the shorts and T-shirt I had slept in before.

  I shut off the light and climbed into bed. I stayed as far on my side as I could without falling off. I gave myself a stern, silent lecture about staying put so there wouldn’t be a repeat of the last time I’d woken up with Kaira in my arms.

  I had planned to stay awake for some time, wrestling with the problem of what to do about Valencia. As soon as I was surrounded by Kaira’s rhythmic breathing, though, my exhaustion won out. My leaden eyes closed.

  As tired as I was, I slept fitfully. My unconscious thoughts shifted from Bobby Axelrod, with the blood-tinged foam bubbling out of his mouth, to Elizabeth Nelson and her deformed, half-Natural baby.

  At some point, the cold that had settled into my bones disappeared and was replaced by comforting warmth. The clean smell of jasmine made the awful images plaguing me vanish. I sank into the blackness of deep sleep.

  ✽✽✽

  “Um, Gray….”

  I was too comfortable to move. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so…content. I wanted to stay just like this forever.

  “Babe, wake up.”

  Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. My deep sense of satisfaction lifted and was replaced by horror as reality came flooding back. Kaira and I were face-to-face, and I was crushing her into me like I’d been trying to absorb her body into my own. My face was buried against her neck—I had no idea how I hadn’t suffocated. Our arms and legs were all wound together so that I wasn’t entirely sure which were my limbs and which were hers.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, inwardly cursing myself.

  It took us several moments to disentangle ourselves, during which there were more awkward apologies when her hair got caught under my arm and our knees bumped as we tried to get free of each other.

  “Muscle memory, I guess,” I said, feeling my face burn.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Kaira said with a little laugh.

  She looked as uncomfortable as I felt. What the hell was wrong with me?

  Clearly, my body hadn’t gotten the memo that being in love with Kaira was the worst sort of betrayal to my dad. I never should have slept in her bed in the first place. It just confused what was really a very simple matter between us. We might have a past, but we had no future together.

  I resolved that I would sleep on Yutika’s puke couch or wherever else I needed to from now on, so long as it wasn’t within reach of her.

  CHAPTER 23

  By the time we made it
downstairs, the rest of the Six were sitting around the kitchen table. They had forgone plates and were eating straight out of one of Ma’s huge leftover containers. Feeling hungry for the first time in days, I grabbed a fork and joined them.

  “Now that Sleeping Beauties have arrived, we better get crack-a-lacking,” A.J. announced.

  “Valencia,” Yutika said, rubbing her hands together. “We’re coming for you, bitch.”

  “Probably the easiest way would be to get her en route to the rally,” Michael said, frowning in thought. “Yutika could make us a squad car, and we could just pull her over.”

  “That won’t work,” Smith said, his eyes on his screen and a can of grape soda in his hand. “She hired a Level 9 Energy Manipulator who she’s been bringing everywhere with her.”

  I cursed under my breath. Energy Manipulators were the most dangerous Magics because they could absorb the ability of any other Magic and wield that power for themselves. Any Magics whose abilities had been stolen would be completely defenseless until they put enough distance between themselves and the Manipulator for the effect to wear off.

  “This guy is no joke,” Smith continued, his eyes darting back and forth across the screen. “He’s been arrested eight times, and five of them were for suspected murders. He got off on technicalities for all of them—I think he’s got some serious family money—since all the victims were Mags outside of Massachusetts.”

  Smith projected the man’s image on the wall. The Manipulator looked like the type of person Smith had just described. He was covered in tattoos and looked like the quintessential biker with his long beard, red bandana, and leather jacket.

  “Didn’t anyone tell him that mohawks are so 1980s?” A.J. asked, glaring in disgust at the image.

  “We can’t risk getting near him,” Kaira said. “If he gets a hold of any of our abilities, we’re screwed.”

  “We’ll just have to wait until the Manipulator goes home,” Yutika said with a sigh.

  “I don’t think he does go home,” Smith said. “She’s paying him a thousand dollars a day, which makes me think he doesn’t leave her side. He probably even sleeps on the floor of her bedroom or something.”