Mags & Nats 3-Book Box Set

by Stephanie Fazio

  It was too much. “Where do we even start?”

  “We need to get off the street,” Michael said. “We can figure out the rest later.”

  He was right. With the way we were stopped half-on and half-off the curb, we were bound to draw the wrong kind of attention. Older Smith’s house was half an hour outside the city. Given everything that had happened, I had a feeling we were going to want to be closer to the center of chaos. Since our house was destroyed, that left only one option.

  “Let’s go to Ma’s,” I told Michael.

  I hated involving the Hansley clan any more than I already had. Just by being related to me, they would be a target. But we had nowhere else to go.

  I made sure we were illusioned to within an inch of our lives as Michael took us on a circuitous path to Ma’s house. Smith made sure we weren’t being followed, and that all the traffic cameras went dark before we reached them. Yutika provided the change of two more vans for extra security.

  We were completely exhausted by the time we finally got to Ma’s house.

  The smell of chicken pot pie, hot out of the oven, lured us straight into the kitchen. There was a chocolate cake on a glass tray on the counter, and the table was already set for all of us.

  A smaller cake and pot pie sat next to the others—for A.J., I assumed. A still-sealed package of ramen, vanilla pudding cup, and can of grape soda were already waiting for Smith. There was also a bag of organic puppy food and what appeared to be homemade dog biscuits.

  For some reason, the sight brought tears to my eyes.

  Ma came around the small island, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her red apron.

  “Come here, baby girl,” Ma said, folding me into her embrace.

  When she released me, she examined my face in that way that made me feel like she was seeing every part of me. Ma frowned at whatever she observed.

  “You need something to eat,” Ma said.

  I managed a tired laugh. Food was Ma’s solution to just about everything, good or bad. Ma released me so she could hug the rest of the Seven. I could feel our tension evaporate as we settled around the table.

  “You didn’t need to trouble yourself,” A.J. told Ma, as she set a whole veggie pie on his plate and listed the ingredients she’d used.

  “Nonsense,” she replied. “Now, eat up.”

  “Thanks, Ma,” Smith said, ducking his head as he drew out his poison scanner.

  Grandma Tashi and Cora joined us a few minutes later. Cora took one look at Sir Zachary and squealed.

  From a young age, I’d realized that begging Ma and Grandma for a dog was a pointless exercise. Cora, on the other hand, never stopped dreaming of having a pet she could spoil rotten.

  Sir Zachary parked himself under Cora’s chair, where chunks of chicken magically fell out of the sky. As soon as Cora had eaten enough to be excused, she raced into the living room with a rubber ball Yutika created.

  Within seconds, my youngest cousin and Sir Zachary were engaged in a serious game of fetch. Sir Zachary skidded across the wooden floor as he chased after the ball, his tail wagging with such ferocity that his whole butt wiggled.

  A dull crash and Cora’s “Sorry!” came from the other room. Ma just sighed and served up seconds.

  “Where’s Desiree?” I asked, basking in the fact that we were all warm and dry…and no one was yelling.

  I loved my cousin, but I didn’t think I had it in me to deal with her right then.

  “She’s been staying at a friend’s,” Ma said, pursing her lips.

  “You’re bein’ too hard on that child,” Grandma Tashi said, pointing her fork at Ma.

  “If you got a better idea of how to deal with that girl, I’m all ears,” Ma replied.

  Ma and Grandma Tashi started one of their epic stare-downs, which could last anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes. The rest of us got busy with our food.

  Desiree and Ma had always butted heads. Actually, Desiree and everyone had a tendency of butting heads. But I could sense from the tension between Ma and Grandma that they were talking about more than Desiree’s usual hotheadedness.

  Still, on top of everything else that was going on, Desiree’s Rain Maker mood swings seemed like the least of our problems.

  “I think you all should leave this house,” Michael said abruptly. He frowned at the French doors that led into the tiny backyard. “You’re too exposed here, and anyone looking to get to Kaira is going to come straight here.”

  “You can come to my dad’s house,” Smith told Ma.

  “Thank you, sweet boy.” Ma took Smith’s chin in her hand and kissed him on the cheek. Then, she did the same to Michael.

  Both boys’ faces turned pink. I exchanged a grin with Yutika and Bri before we shoved bites of pot pie into our mouths to hide our giggles. The flaky, buttery crust melted on my tongue.

  “We’ve been livin’ here for fifteen years,” Grandma Tashi told Michael. “We’ll get along just fine.”

  “Things are different now,” Michael persisted. “Especially with Kaira and Graysen running for the Director—”

  “Boy, I was outrunning gunfire before you were even a twinkle in your mama’s eye,” Grandma said.

  She turned her stink eye Michael. Even though he was easily twice her size, Michael visibly shrunk in his chair.

  Grandma was on the warpath. I braced for attack when she shifted her whole chair to face me.

  “What do I always tell you?” she asked me.

  “Don’t wear white after Labor Day?” I guessed.

  Gray chuckled.

  Grandma jabbed her fork at me like it was a sword. “I told you no good comes out of poking your nose into other people’s business. I haven’t kept you alive this long so you could go racin’ around the city like some crazed vigilante!”

  “Sit down before you throw your hip out again,” Ma told Grandma, taking a sip of her coffee and leaning back against her chair.

  For a few minutes, we ate in silence. Between the food and the company, I was relaxed enough that the kitchen table was looking like an enticing pillow. The only thing that stopped me was Ma’s eagle eyes, and the fact that there’d be hell to pay if we didn’t make at least a valiant effort at clearing our plates.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Grandma Tashi said, making my eyelids open wider. “Penelope came to see me.”

  Gray’s fork clattered to his plate. “Penelope Heppurn?”

  Grandma nodded, seeming a little less surly than she had a few minutes ago. She squinted at Gray. “Penelope wanted me to give you a message.”

  Penelope Heppurn was the Clairvoyant whom Remwald had murdered while he was illusioned to look like Gray. Even though there was nothing he could have done to stop the murder, Gray still felt like he should have been able to save her.

  “She says thank you,” Grandma told Graysen. “She’s sorry for everything that happened to you.”

  “Does she—” Graysen swallowed. “Does she know who really killed her?”

  Grandma nodded. “She didn’t say it in so many words, but I think you exposing her real murderer helped her rest. She’s…peaceful now.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” Graysen said in a gruff voice. “It means a lot.”

  I put my hand on his leg under the table.

  Grandma Tashi humphed, which was as close as Gray was going to get to a you’re welcome.

  We had just moved on to dessert when our small slice of peace and quiet was shattered.

  Smith, who was perusing his laptop screen as he nursed his grape soda, cursed. As soon as the word was out of his mouth, his gaze slid to Grandma, and he muttered an apology.

  “What is it?” I asked quickly, before Grandma could go off about the younger generations and their foul mouths.

  “You know that Nat on the Board who was visiting family in New Hampshire?” Smith asked.

  “What about her?” I asked. I could tell from the look on Smith’s face it wasn’t good news.

  “The
cops picked her up at South Station a few minutes ago,” Smith said. “According to their chatter, she’s mindless and has no idea who she is.”

  If it wasn’t for Grandma Tashi, seven curses would have filled the room.

  Bri covered her face with her hands. “What if that Nat could have filled in the gaps for us, and we lost our chance at figuring out what’s really going on?”

  Before I could respond, Smith continued.

  “Listen to this,” he said. “Valencia just announced that the UnAllied are starting construction on commemorative statues for her brother and Remwald in the Boston Common.”

  “She can’t do that,” Yutika said, indignant. “The Common is public property. You can’t just build statues wherever you please.”

  “If we could,” A.J. said, “I’d build one of Sir Zachary.”

  “She’s just trying to draw attention,” Graysen said. “With the Enforcers being here and us running for the Director, she’s doing everything she can to stay in the news.”

  Grandma Tashi was mid-rant about minding our own business and staying out of trouble, when my phone started to buzz. Since everyone I knew was in this room, I couldn’t imagine who might be calling me. I dug out my phone, which was showing an unknown number with a Boston area code.

  “Hello?” I asked, putting my phone on speaker and holding it out to Smith so he could see the number.

  A male voice on the other end of the line asked, “Is this Kaira Hansley?”

  “Who is this?”

  If the man had called this number, then he knew who I was.

  “My name is Morgan Ellington,” the man said in a faint English accent.

  I knew from the wall of names and clues we’d put together at our house—which was now buried in a pile of rubble—that he was the last living Mag on the Board of Peaceful Resolutions. He was an Alchemist and had emigrated to Boston from England after the Slaughters. Ever since Pruwist made the announcement about the murderer being after Board members, Ellington had locked himself in his house and hadn’t come out. His security detail was even tighter than Pruwist’s.

  “Why are you calling me?” I asked.

  “And how did you get her number?” Gray added, leaning in so Ellington would be able to hear.

  “Your number is listed as the emergency contact for your mother,” he replied.

  “I’ll fix that,” Smith muttered from behind his screen.

  “And I’m calling you,” Ellington continued, “because I know you have been investigating the man who’s hunting the Board members. I think you’re the only one who can help me.”

  “What can I do for you?” I asked warily.

  Not only had this man used tracking information he shouldn’t have access to in order to get my number, I had no idea why he would come to us instead of the cops.

  “This may sound a bit odd.” Ellington paused, and then he blurted out, “I received a visit from someone I couldn’t see. I heard his voice and felt him touch me, but he was—”

  “Invisible?” Gray offered.

  “Yes,” Ellington replied, his voice filled with relief at the confirmation that he wasn’t insane.

  “The…being, or whatever…ordered me to come to the Public Garden at six o’clock this evening. He directed me to bring an item that I had locked away in a Mag vault for safekeeping. I had forgotten about it until he made me remember.” Ellington paused, and I could almost feel his fear and uncertainty through the phone.

  “I felt compelled to retrieve the item and now have it in my safekeeping,” Ellington continued. “I have a sense my bodyguards won’t be able to protect me, but I thought, perhaps….” He trailed off, like he’d just realized he didn’t know what he was asking for.

  “Don’t go,” I told him. “Stay hidden. We’ll come to you.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not an option,” Ellington said. “I don’t want to attend this meeting, and yet, I’m certain I won’t be able to resist no matter what kinds of precautions I try to take.”

  “Subject 6 mind-melded him,” A.J. whispered.

  “What is this item the Invisible wants from you?” I asked Ellington, my mind churning as I searched for opportunity in the midst of this new development.

  “I had forgotten all about it until the man reminded me,” he said. A puzzled, dreamy quality seeped into his voice. “But once I retrieved the item, my memory came back. It’s of a sensitive nature and not something we should discuss over the phone.”

  “We can intercept him and steal whatever it is before Subject 6 gets to it,” Bri whispered to me. “We’ll use this guy as bait to bring Subject 6 to us.” Ferocity glittered in her eyes. “And then I’ll take the murderer down.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Michael and I stood at the main entrance to the Boston Public Garden. The rest of the Seven were scattered around the vicinity, with the exception of Smith, who was waiting in the van a few blocks away.

  Gray and Yutika were positioned behind a tree at the park’s western entrance. Bri, A.J., and Sir Zachary lingered in the middle of the footbridge that spanned the duck pond.

  A.J. was playing the part of tourist as only A.J. could. He was snapping pictures of everything and everyone with his phone. Sir Zachary was patiently letting A.J. change his outfit and pose him.

  “You are going to stop that when Ellington comes, right A.J.?” Graysen asked.

  “Who’s Ellington?” was A.J.’s only reply as he snapped off another hundred shots.

  I shifted from foot to foot, feeling edgy. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself this was no different from another one of our jobs, my nerves were on high alert.

  It was a beautiful Boston summer day. A warm breeze stirred through the weeping willow branches that skimmed the surface of the pond. The roses were in full bloom, and I could smell their faint perfume.

  “Look alive, people,” Smith’s voice said across our earpieces. “Ellington just came around the corner.”

  My pulse jumped. I checked my friends’ illusions.

  “Ellington’s alone and carrying a case,” Smith continued. “And don’t worry, I’m not getting any bomb vibes from it.”

  “Well I wasn’t worried about bombs before,” Yutika said into her mike, “but now I am.”

  “I told you not to worry,” Smith said.

  “You can detect bombs?” Graysen asked.

  “I bet we could train Sir Zachary how to do that,” A.J. said.

  I just shook my head and squinted into the distance, waiting for a glimpse of our target.

  “Focus, everyone,” Michael said.

  I caught sight of Ellington. He stuck out from the casually-dressed pedestrians and families like a sore thumb. He wore a tailored suit, dark sunglasses, and kept a firm grip on his metal case. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a spy movie and into our park.

  I dropped the illusion on myself while maintaining the rest of my friends’ disguises. I waved the Alchemist over.

  At least my illusions were still intact, which meant Subject 6 wasn’t nearby…yet.

  Ellington didn’t say anything until we were partially hidden behind a stone memorial of some important Mag whose history I couldn’t remember. Ellington jumped a little when Michael came up behind me.

  I had Michael illusioned to look like a teenage boy, which I thought would be less intimidating than his actual appearance.

  “Don’t worry,” Michael said before the other man could bolt.

  I saw the tension in Ellington’s body ease as he pulled off his sunglasses.

  For several seconds, Michael and Ellington just stared at each other. It would have been incredibly awkward under normal circumstances, but they looked like they were almost in some kind of a trance.

  “His mind has been melded,” Michael said a few seconds later.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, alarmed.

  Ellington wasn’t babbling or drooling the way William Mallorie had been.

  Michael looked at me
. “Subject 6 has been in his mind. He hasn’t broken it…yet, but I can sense his influence.”

  Ellington didn’t react to Michael’s assessment of his brain, which seemed like further proof that his mind wasn’t in its right state. Most people would be freaking out at the revelation that their thoughts had been tampered with.

  “The case,” A.J. hissed in our earpieces. “Get the case.”

  “Mr. Ellington, can you tell me what’s in the case?” Michael asked.

  Morgan Ellington blinked at Michael. “It’s a sample of Agent S.” He gave Michael an adoring look. “Marvelous substance, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Er, yeah,” Michael said.

  “Agent S,” I said. “That’s used in the Magical Reduction Potion, right?”

  Ellington looked at Michael when he answered.

  “Indeed.” Ellington licked his lips. Then he glanced around at his surroundings. His brow furrowed.

  “Why am I here?” he asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice. “This isn’t right. I was supposed to keep this case secret. There were only two people I could give it to if they came asking.” He looked from me to Michael. “You aren’t those people.”

  “Remwald?” I guessed.

  A few quiet words from Michael had Ellington nodding.

  “And Jenny Yang,” Ellington said.

  That made sense. It was clear that Jenny was the only other person Remwald had confided in about the secret the Board members held.

  Without warning, Michael’s illusion dropped.

  “Goodness,” Ellington said.

  Panic seized me. My magic was inside me, but I couldn’t grasp hold of it.

  It was like swimming toward the sunlight but being unable to breach the surface. My magic was trapped.

  That was when I felt it…the presence. It was the same one I’d felt at the courthouse and in Eleanor Ridley’s apartment. It was him.

  “Bri, he’s here,” I said into my mike. “Subject 6 is here.”

  “My magic isn’t working, either,” Michael said. “But I can sense his mind.”