Mags & Nats 3-Book Box Set

by Stephanie Fazio

  “Dr. Pruwist died before he could reveal the knowledge he possessed,” Starlight said, her voice coming out toneless and more formal than it had been before. “I cannot say what he might have revealed if he’d been permitted to live.”

  Starlight tilted her head to the side, as though she was listening to a voice only she could hear.

  “But I saw an alternate future,” she continued. “One where Pruwist survived and was made to recall the information.”

  I held my breath.

  Starlight kept her eyes closed as she massaged Sir Zachary’s ears.

  “The location was given into his keeping without him ever knowing what it was. He kept the paper with the information somewhere secure.”

  “Do you know where he put it?” I asked breathlessly.

  Starlight’s eyes snapped open. She stared unblinking at me for several seconds. She didn’t even seem to see me; it was like she was looking through me.

  “I saw a closet inside the BSMU president’s house. A false wall next to the shoe rack. Behind it, a safe. A sealed, brown envelope. That is where you will find what you’ve been searching for.”

  “Is that specific enough for you?” Yutika asked Smith.

  Smith scowled.

  Starlight blinked, coming out of her trance. She looked down at the dog in her lap and gave him a puzzled smile.

  “Thank you,” I told Starlight, feeling my blood surge with anticipation. I took her small hands in mine, feeling the cold metal of all her rings. “Thank you so much.”

  “Happy I could help.” She cocked her head. Again, I was reminded of a bird listening. “Be careful of the bookshelf in the bedroom. There is a version of the future where it attacks you.”

  Okay….

  Starlight lifted Sir Zachary and kissed the top of his head before handing him to A.J.

  “Good luck,” she said as she walked us to the door. “I’ll be seeing you again, handsome.”

  I wasn’t alone in my surprise when we all realized who she was talking to.

  Smith.

  “Uhh,” Smith said.

  Starlight just gave us a little wave and shut the door.

  “I like her,” A.J. announced.

  “Me too,” I agreed.

  “Yeah,” Yutika said, patting Smith on the arm. “Come on, handsome.”

  CHAPTER 8

  We drove straight to the BSMU campus on the other side of town. We called Kaira and Graysen on our way to update them. They were going to meet with the Super Mags as soon as Ma finished feeding them.

  Ma’s cooking was second only to Michael’s Whispering when it came to ensuring a peaceful conversation.

  We parked in the BSMU student lot, which was mostly empty given the late hour. Smith’s research had revealed that Pruwist’s widow was staying with her sister in New Hampshire, and the house she’d shared with her late husband was now vacant.

  Getting in would be a cinch. I just hoped Starlight had been right, and that I’d find the information I needed inside.

  “You all stay here,” I told the others, blowing on my fists. It would be quicker and draw less attention if I went in alone.

  “Take these,” Yutika said, handing over an earpiece and mike. She sketched on her open pad, and a few seconds later, she produced a tiny camera. “And this.”

  I fitted the camera into the buttonhole of my shirt, glancing over at Smith’s laptop to make sure the camera was working. It was.

  “We’ll keep our eyes on you, muffin,” A.J. told me. “If you need rescuing, we’ll be there in a jiffy.”

  “Watch out for the evil bookshelf,” Yutika reminded me.

  “Friggin’ Clairvoyants.” Smith rolled his eyes.

  Pulling up my collar so the titanium of my skin wouldn’t be so visible in the dark, I got out of the car. I jogged across the cobblestone path.

  “Take a right,” Smith said into my ear when I reached a fork in the path.

  He continued to give me directions as I made my way to the other end of campus. After about ten minutes of this, Smith said, “It’s the third building on your left.”

  The brick house was tucked behind two giant oak trees. The porch lights were on, but the rest of the house was dark.

  “Try under the doormat,” Smith told me before I just bashed my way into the house.

  Stealth wasn’t exactly my forte.

  “Who actually keeps their spare key under the doormat?” Yutika asked across my earpiece.

  The Pruwists, apparently.

  “Know it all,” I said to Smith’s quiet chuckle as I fished the key out from under the mat.

  I glanced around just to make sure no one was watching my break-in, and then I let myself into the house.

  I paused in the entryway to listen, but the house was silent.

  The air inside was stuffy, like the house had been closed up since Pruwist’s death. I used the flashlight on my phone rather than turning on any lights.

  “I didn’t know people actually covered their furniture with sheets outside of movies,” Yutika said in my earpiece as I entered the first room. “So creepy.”

  “Would it be tacky to turn this place into a haunted house and charge for admittance?” A.J. asked innocently.

  “Found the house’s blueprints,” Smith announced. “Staircase is through the next room on your left.”

  I kept my steps as quiet as titanium on hard wood could be and moved deeper into the house. The musty smell didn’t dissipate, and when I swiped a finger across a wooden table, it left a streak through the thick layer of dust.

  Clearly, no one had lived here for quite a while.

  I climbed the stairs two at a time and followed Smith’s instructions to the master bedroom. Since all the curtains in the room were closed, I turned on the bedroom light.

  I blinked several times as the room came into focus. It was as empty and abandoned as the rest of the house.

  There was a bedframe at the far end of the room, which had been stripped of its bedding. A desk had been cleared of everything except dust. Double-doors opened up into what looked like an enviable bathroom. The closet was catty-corner to the bathroom.

  “OMG people, this is it,” A.J. said, loud enough that I had to adjust the volume on my earpiece. “I’m so excited I can barely contain myself.”

  “Try,” came Smith’s surly reply.

  My own heart was thrumming against my ribcage. This was the break we’d been waiting for.

  I paused on my way through the room when I caught sight of a bookcase. Could it be the bookcase…the one Starlight had warned me about?

  I approached cautiously. When the bookcase didn’t develop fangs and jump me, I poked it, ready for something illusioned. It was solid wood and glass—just a regular, inanimate bookcase.

  “Maybe Starlight was referring to a different bookcase,” Yutika said.

  “Or she’s just another quack,” Smith said.

  “What exactly do you have against Clairvoyants?” I asked as I headed for the closet.

  “Yeah,” Yutika echoed. “What do you have against them, handsome?”

  “Will you let that go already?” Smith demanded as the rest of us tittered.

  I flipped on the light in the closet, which was as big as my old bedroom. I headed for the shoe rack on the far wall.

  “This dude had more shoes than Kaira,” Yutika noted.

  I wasn’t sure I’d go that far, but it was close.

  “Men’s fashion is much more nuanced than most people assume,” A.J. huffed.

  I found the crack in the paint I’d been looking for and gave the loose board a yank. The board came away, revealing a small compartment built into the wall. A safe was nestled inside.

  “Starlight was right,” I said, hardly daring to believe it.

  The safe was anchored to the floor, but it took little more than a tug for me to free it. I brought the safe into the bedroom, where the light was better.

  Kneeling on the ground, I dug my titanium fingers u
nder the lip of the safe. Then, I peeled the top off like I was opening a tin can.

  I overturned the safe’s contents on the floor. Papers, jewelry boxes, and keys tumbled out. Ignoring everything except for the papers, I sifted through the mess until I found what I was looking for: a brown, sealed envelope.

  “Is that it?” Yutika asked in a breathless voice.

  “It has to be,” I said. “It’s the only brown envelope.”

  I sat in the center of the floor. For several seconds, I just held the envelope.

  “If Starlight was telling us the truth,” I told my friends in a reverent voice, “we’re about to find out where Agent S is made.”

  And then, we’d finally get answers about what had become of the slaves who were forced to produce it.

  “What are you waiting for?” Smith demanded. “Open it!”

  If I hadn’t been in my titanium form, my hands would have been shaking. I slid my finger under the seal.

  “Bri, watch out!” Yutika shrieked in my ear.

  I turned to the side in time to see the bookcase move. And then, someone crashed into me.

  CHAPTER 9

  Iwas knocked to the ground. Either I was seeing things, or a human whose body was colored just like the bookcase was on top of me. My titanium head thunked against the floor forcefully enough to dent the hardwood. Before I could recover, the envelope was torn from my hands.

  I heard my friends shouting across my earpiece, but all of my attention was on my attacker.

  Magic, so powerful it took my breath away, filled the room. Who was this person?

  A hard chest was pressed against mine. Male…my attacker was definitely male. The Mag felt human, but he matched the coloring and exact appearance of the bookshelf.

  I didn’t linger on that oddity. Regardless of how he looked, this man was normal flesh and bones. That gave me the advantage.

  I grabbed the bookcase-man around his biceps and threw him.

  There was a glimmer of color as the bookcase illusion—or whatever it was—disappeared. I waited for the sound of a body crashing through the wall.

  The sound and corresponding hole in the wall never materialized.

  There was a glimmer of color as the bookcase-person floated to a stop right before the wall…and disappeared.

  Invisible? Was this some relative of Subject 6’s we hadn’t been aware of?

  It didn’t matter. Whoever or whatever this man was, he had my envelope.

  I threw myself at the spot where I’d seen him phase out of sight. My fist grazed skin covered in bristly hair—a beard? I struck out for his nose, but the man had moved. My fist went right through the wall without encountering anything human along the way.

  “He’s a Chameleon!” Smith shouted in my ear. “Holy shit. I didn’t know they could be this powerful. Bri—”

  My earpiece fell out as a well-aimed punch made my head snap back. There was a muffled grunt, and I saw the faint outline of a man before he blended back against the wall.

  “I think you broke my hand,” the man complained. His voice was low and had a faint Spanish accent.

  “No, you broke your hand,” I retorted.

  Following the sound of his voice, I struck out. Wood splintered as I caught the edge of the bedframe.

  Male, husky laughter drew my attention to the opposite side of the bedroom. “Gotta be quicker than that to catch me.”

  I narrowed my gaze, searching for the man who was foolish enough to taunt a Steel.

  “Why don’t you show yourself,” I challenged. “I promise not to hurt you…much.”

  “Tell me,” the man said from behind me. I jabbed my elbow and caught nothing except air. “What will people say when they find out the famous Bri Hammond is breaking and entering?”

  I was momentarily stunned that he knew who I was, before I remembered it wasn’t surprising at all. As Kaira and Graysen’s Security Chief, I was on TV multiple times a week. And with A.J.’s media pushes, I’d gotten a few magazine write-ups.

  I hadn’t thought much about it before, but now, it made me feel exposed. This man knew who and what I was, while all I knew about him was that he was a Chameleon.

  It was a rare ability, but it shouldn’t be enough for him to run circles around me like he was now.

  “No one’s going to find out I was here,” I said through gritted teeth. “Because I’m going to smash your head into pulp.”

  More laughter. My blood boiled.

  I delivered a swift roundhouse kick. It took apart the bedpost, but I also felt the give of human skin.

  “Mierda,” the man groaned. “That hurt.”

  “That was the point, moron.”

  I pounced. There was the distinct sound of flesh meeting titanium. I heard the rustle of clothes. The man bucked and writhed beneath me, but I was immovable.

  If it wasn’t for the smallest changes in his coloring, I would have sworn I was wrestling with someone invisible. My vision just caught the way his body made subtle adjustments to blend into his surroundings. His head, which was crushed against the wall, was the same green color as the paint. His feet were camouflaged perfectly with the floorboards.

  “Give me the envelope,” I demanded, roughly searching the man for the feel of paper.

  “You know,” he taunted, seemingly unconcerned that he was pinned by a Steel. “Normally, I’m all about the foreplay. But I’m in a bit of a hurry right now.”

  At that moment, I felt the crumple of the envelope. I yanked it out of his pocket.

  “Ha!”

  I slammed my fist at the Chameleon. Instead of connecting with the man’s skull as I’d intended, my punch went right through the wall.

  “Better luck next time,” the man’s laughing voice said. Impossibly, it sounded like it was coming from the ceiling.

  “Come here,” I ordered the insufferable Chameleon, not really expecting him to obey. If I could just get a lock on his voice….

  “My pleasure, cariño.”

  I searched through the cobwebbed recesses of my high school Spanish vocabulary lists for the translation.

  Darling? Oh, hell no.

  The breath whooshed out of my body as the man’s feet connected with my back. I slammed to the floor.

  Wooden boards cracked beneath me. I felt no pain, unless a bruised ego counted.

  “How did you—” I began, when the envelope was pulled from my hands once again.

  I screamed in rage as the man’s weight—and the envelope—were gone.

  “That’s mine, you bastard!”

  I saw the man’s profile as his body flickered from the green of the bedroom wall to dark shadows. He slipped out the door and into the hallway.

  I don’t think so, buddy.

  Two leaps closed the distance between us. I tackled him.

  We collided, but my momentum was too much for either of us to stop. We tumbled down the staircase, locked together.

  A multitude of Spanish curses flew out of the man’s mouth before we hit the ground floor. I came out on top, straddling the man who now blended into the oriental rug.

  “Dios, you’re heavy,” he wheezed.

  “I’ll have you know titanium is far lighter than most metals, and forty-five percent lighter than actual steel.” I settled my weight more firmly on my camouflaged opponent, making sure to put pressure on his lungs. “And haven’t you heard it’s the unwritten fourth high law to call a girl fat? Most women would tear your head off before you even finished your sentence. Lucky for you, I’m not most women.”

  “I’ll say,” the man replied, still struggling for breath.

  I bent lower to feel for the envelope. That was when I caught a familiar scent on the man’s skin. Cinnamon.

  “It was you,” I said in disbelief, as he squirmed and slapped ineffectively at me in a pathetic attempt to free himself. “You’re the one who’s been digging up the graves.”

  I felt, rather than saw, his surprise. For a second, he stopped fighting me.

/>   “It’s bad to litter,” I informed him, taking advantage of his momentary stillness to reclaim the envelope.

  As I waited for the man’s comeback, I realized I was unnecessarily prolonging our fight…because I was having fun. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d fought someone who could actually give me a run for my money.

  It must have been Brent, when I was five and he was fifteen…and he only beat me because he took advantage of my ticklishness.

  “What are you talking about?” the man replied. The teasing in his voice had been replaced by wariness.

  “The gum wrapper you left in the cemetery,” I told him as I got to my feet. I yanked him up with me by his shirt.

  The man laughed.

  “Pretty and clever. You are full of surprises, Bri Hammond.”

  “You forgot strong.” I didn’t wait before kneeing where I estimated his groin was.

  I missed.

  There was a tearing sound, and I was left staring at a scrap of black fabric in my hand.

  “Too slow again,” the man’s voice taunted from the ceiling.

  That was all the warning I got before I was shoved against a stone fireplace. The Chameleon grabbed for the envelope in my hand as I crashed into the cinderblocks. The envelope tore in half.

  “Give that back!”

  He shoved me again. My body surged straight through a support beam in the wall. The whole house shuddered.

  “Ugh.” I picked sticky, pink insulation off my titanium skin.

  I’d just made it back into the ravaged foyer, when I felt the brush of the Chameleon’s sleeve. I didn’t wait. I shoved him.

  Bricks crumbled, followed by a waft of cold breeze. A man-sized hole appeared in the side of the house.

  Time to wrap this up, I told myself. Someone was bound to notice that a man had just fallen out of Pruwist’s house…if they hadn’t already heard all the crashing around.

  The next time the Chameleon came at me, I stopped searching for him with my eyes. I felt for the crackling energy of his magic. I closed my eyes and breathed in the hint of cinnamon. Then, I lunged.

  Before my limbs could connect with his vitals, the man caught my waist. He pinned me against the wall.