Mags & Nats 3-Book Box Set

by Stephanie Fazio

  Regardless of whatever else I thought about him, the Memory Reader was a vast improvement over the now-incarcerated Pyro. Maybe if this kid was in charge, Kaira and Graysen would be able to convince the Super Mags to join the Alliance.

  As soon as the idealistic hope passed through my mind, I knew it would never work. The Memory Reader might be brilliant and insightful, but that didn’t make him the kind of leader who could wrangle all forty-six of the other Super Mags. I didn’t think any of the kids had that capacity. They were all so young, and they’d barely spent any time in the world outside of MagLab.

  “Actually,” the Memory Reader said. “I think I’d like everyone to start calling me Emory.” He flashed us a dimpled grin that made him look even younger. “You know, like Memory…except a real name.”

  “Great name, dude,” Yutika said, holding out her palm for him to slap. After a second’s hesitation, he high-fived her.

  “And yeah,” Emory told Charlotte. “You can go find this person.” His eyes met mine as he said, “It’s really, really important to her.”

  He was talking about me.

  “We’ll try hard,” Charlotte promised me. “Between the two scents, we should be able to find him.”

  I swallowed and nodded, not really trusting myself to speak.

  Charlotte turned back into a moth and perched on Sir Zachary’s head. Our little dog let out a howl, and then he was skidding back across the tiles toward the doggy door Yutika had made for him.

  “Thank you,” I called after them.

  As soon as I found Cinnamon Guy, I was going to tear him limb from limb until he gave over what he’d taken. The thought soothed the savage anger inside me.

  “Okay, everyone,” Ma said, getting up from the table and gathering empty mugs. She gave us one of her mamma bear stare-downs. “If you seven are flying to California tomorrow, then you’re going to sleep. Now.”

  We all knew better than to argue with Ma.

  Before we’d even reached the stairs, Kaira’s work cell phone went off. She looked at the Caller ID, frowned, and beckoned for all of us to detour to her and Graysen’s study.

  “Yes?” Kaira said into the phone, as she closed the door behind us.

  I looked at A.J., who was shamelessly tilting his ear toward the phone. After a few seconds, he shook his head at me in defeat.

  “Are you sure?” Kaira asked the caller.

  Her frown deepened.

  “Okay. Thanks very much.”

  “What was that?” Graysen asked as soon as Kaira disconnected the call.

  “The people from the Magical Marking Office,” Kaira said. “They tracked down all the parents of the children on our list.”

  “And?” I asked.

  Kaira gave me a puzzled look. “Every Mag on that list was a Steel above a Level 6 who was born in the last twenty-five years.”

  The information struck me like a physical blow.

  Only the people high up in the Magical Marking Office would have noticed all those missing Steels, but only if they’d been looking for a discrepancy. And even if they had noticed, they’d all been working for Edwardian Remwald.

  “What?” The word came out as a croak. “Why?”

  “Agent S is attracted to Bri’s skin,” Michael said after a long pause. “Maybe there’s something about Steels that make them able to handle it, or something.”

  “Or it’s just too poisonous for anyone else to be around,” Yutika said.

  “Hold on,” Smith ordered. He closed his eyes.

  His laptop was open on the floor, but he wasn’t touching it. The screen flickered as windows opened and closed in rapid succession.

  We all waited in tense silence while Smith worked.

  “Confirmed,” he said after a few minutes. “There isn’t a single Steel above a Level 6 born in Boston over the last twenty-five years. At least none in Alliance records.”

  “That can’t be right,” Graysen said before I could speak. “Bri fits that description, and she was Marked until she was—”

  “Eighteen,” I supplied.

  “Yeah, about that.” Smith shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I had the same thought, so I did a little extra digging. And I have a theory.”

  Smith tugged on the cord of his hoodie. He flexed his long fingers.

  “Out with it, Smith,” Kaira ordered.

  Smith looked at me. “You might want to sit down for this.”

  I leaned against the desk to appease him. I wasn’t the fainting type. Smith waved his hand, projecting the image on his laptop screen onto the wall.

  I stared at the enlarged document. It was my birth certificate.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked. I couldn’t say I’d examined many birth certificates, but this one seemed legit enough.

  “Look more closely,” Smith said. “Specifically, at your magic designation.

  Simultaneous inhales filled the room as we all made the same observation. There, on the dotted line, was a single word.

  STEAL.

  “Wait.” Yutika held up a finger. “What’s the problem?”

  “Didn’t you tell us you won your school’s spelling B?” A.J. replied.

  “That was elementary school,” Yutika said. “And so what?”

  “S-T-E-E-L.” A.J. spelled out the word while frantically tapping on the rogue ‘A’ on the wall.

  “Ohhhh.” Yutika’s furrowed brows smoothed out before scrunching back up again. “Wait, what’s a Steal…with an A?”

  “Nothing,” Smith replied. “Unless you’re trying to steal, with an ‘A,’ candy from a baby. I’m guessing it was just a typo that whoever was inputting the information made.”

  A typo. I swallowed.

  Smith continued, “My guess is that Remwald had some kind of algorithm to alert him whenever a Mag matching his parameters was entered into the system. The algorithm didn’t pick up Bri because of the spelling.”

  My mind reeled. I heard the others talking, but their voices sounded garbled and far away.

  Lilly was a Steel. And if our intel was right, that was the reason why she’d been taken from our family. It’s what would have happened to me if it hadn’t been for a stupid spelling error.

  What if that error had saved me and condemned my niece?

  A wounded animal sound came out of my parted lips.

  “Honey girl, don’t do that to yourself.” A.J. wrapped an arm around my shoulders, enveloping me in the smell of expensive cologne.

  Kaira and Yutika joined us, enclosing me in a tight circle. Graysen, Michael, and Smith stood back. Smith’s expression was shuttered, but I saw open sympathy on Michael and Graysen’s faces.

  To my horror, I realized everyone was blurry because I was crying.

  I knew my friends were saying all the right things, but I couldn’t make sense of any of their words. Everything was buried under the deafening, unending scream in my own mind.

  My brother’s baby daughter had been taken while I had been spared.

  CHAPTER 11

  After my breakdown in the study, it became apparent to all of us that sleep wasn’t happening. So, we spent the last few hours of darkness getting ready for our trip to California.

  My insides felt raw, but I forced my own emotions aside at the thought of what this impending trip would mean for A.J. I wouldn’t be worth my weight as a best friend if I didn’t make sure he was okay with all of this. So, after splashing cold water on my face, I went down to the master suite on the second floor.

  A.J.’s door was open, so I let myself inside.

  When we’d first moved into the house, there had been only one word to describe the master bedroom: beige. Beige walls, beige floors, beige furniture. That definitely wasn’t the case anymore.

  It felt a little like stepping into a different dimension. The textured wallpaper had a different pattern and color on every wall. Yutika and I had helped A.J. paint the ceiling to look like a stormy night sky. With all of the colors, it gave off cozy rather th
an sinister vibes.

  There were racks for A.J.’s suits that didn’t fit into the sizeable walk-in closet, as well as an alarming collection of statues, figurines, and stuffed animals that resembled Sir Zachary.

  3D stars hung in thin air. I knew from trying to find their strings that A.J.’s magic held them in place whenever he was home. When he left the mansion, the stars dropped onto the floor.

  The bed was canopied with red velvet curtains, like A.J. was some kind of Medieval king. The furniture scattered around the room was eclectic both in colors and style. There were rugs on rugs, as well as a criminal number of pillows.

  “A.J.?” I called, moving farther into the room when I didn’t catch sight of him.

  A.J. appeared in the doorway that led to the bathroom. I blinked, almost not recognizing him.

  His eyes were free of eyeliner. His hair was wet and uncombed. And he was wearing un-tailored jeans and a plain blue button-down.

  “A.J.,” I said uncertainly. “You’re scaring me.”

  He gave me a tired smile that did nothing to ease my worry.

  “It’s all good, baby girl,” he told me.

  It clearly wasn’t.

  “You can talk to me,” I pressed.

  A.J. was always there for the rest of us. I hated the thought of him keeping his pain bottled up.

  “I’m fine, precious.” He patted my cheek in a way that could have either been paternal or patronizing…I wasn’t sure which.

  I could tell A.J. wasn’t in a talking mood. So, I just said, “Just so you know, if we run into anyone from your past, I’m probably going to hang them by their toes and use them like a piñata.”

  I was rewarded with A.J.’s soft chuckle and an arm around my waist as we headed downstairs.

  The rest of our friends were gathered on the front lawn. Ma was there, too, stacking up trays of food for us to take with us.

  “Seriously, Ma?” Kaira said in exasperation as she looked at all the food. “This is enough food for a week. Besides, as bad as California’s gotten, I’m pretty sure they still have restaurants there.”

  Ma shot Kaira a look that had my lips twitching in spite of the anxiety churning in my gut.

  Kaira then leveled the famous Hansley glare on me. She was still miffed because I’d forbidden her and Graysen from coming to California with the rest of the Seven. The two of them might be in charge of the entire city, but when it came to their safety, I was the boss.

  It was hard enough guaranteeing their safety in a civilized city like Boston. From everything I’d heard and read about California, it was one of the last places any right-minded person would go. If I could force all of my friends to stay behind, I would.

  “With everything you and Graysen have to deal with,” I told Kaira, “you’ll barely notice we left. It’s going to be fine.”

  “I remember the last plane I created,” Yutika was telling Michael as her pen flew over her sketchbook. “I was only ten, and I had the idea that I would surprise my whole family by taking them to Disney World on a plane I’d created.”

  “I’m guessing it didn’t work out the way you’d planned?” Michael replied, his adoring gaze fixed on her.

  “Nope.” Yutika added a few flourishes to her drawing. “I made the plane in our backyard without thinking about how big it would get, and the wings went through our house and the neighbor’s.” She laughed, shaking her head. “My parents were pissed.”

  Michael laughed softly. Yutika stopped drawing long enough to lean over and kiss him. Michael’s cheeks turned pink.

  Yutika tore the page out of her sketchbook and let it flutter onto the grass.

  I looked around anxiously, measuring the distance to the house and surrounding obstacles in light of Yutika’s recent story. Fortunately, the Directors’ mansion had a really big front yard.

  “So, this is the first time you’re making a plane that’s going in the air?” I asked, glancing down at the drawing on the grass. It had started to wiggle.

  “Yuppers,” Yutika replied, not seeming in the least bit concerned.

  Michael and I exchanged a glance.

  It was a cardinal sin among the Seven to question each other’s magic, so we both kept our mouths shut.

  The 2-dimensional drawing began to expand until it was the size of a model airplane. The crinkle of paper took on a tinny reverberation as the model airplane became metal.

  Yutika kicked the tiny model away from us as it began to grow. We all backed farther away, knowing what was about to happen.

  Metal creaked and groaned as the plane began to stretch. Tiny wings expanded. The plane grew upward and out. I craned my neck back so I could watch Yutika’s creation turn into a full-sized jet. The plane’s nose towered above us.

  “I don’t think I ever realized how big these are,” Kaira said in an awed voice.

  Smoke wafted up from the grass, where a new front wheel was rotating in place. A faint smell of gasoline filled the air.

  The gardeners were going to have a fit.

  Windows appeared on the plane’s side, along with red lettering that said Yutika Air.

  “Almost ready,” Yutika announced. “Just finishing up its innards.”

  The rest of us jumped back as the turbine engines roared to life. The whole plane swelled, making it look like a breathing, metallic beast. I shook my head in utter amazement.

  “Sweet,” Yutika said. “Shall we?”

  “Yutika,” Graysen said in an awed voice. “You’ve seriously outdone yourself this time.”

  “I better illusion this plane until you’re in the sky,” Ma said. “You don’t want any nosy reporters wondering what you’re up to.”

  As soon as she’d finished speaking, the plane disappeared from sight. It was still there, but Ma had just made the plane blend into the rest of the yard perfectly.

  “Follow me so you don’t run into anything and knock yourselves out,” Ma told us, leading the way to the invisible plane.

  The smell of fuel and loud hum of an engine were the only proof that the plane really existed outside of my own imagination.

  “Be careful,” Ma ordered, taking my chin in her hand and kissing my cheek.

  “Thanks, Ma,” I told her as my foot fumbled for the bottom step.

  “Call us as soon as you get to California,” Kaira said.

  The others behind me were still talking, but I had just gotten my first glimpse of the plane’s interior, and my jaw was on the ground.

  “What do you think?” Yutika asked, giving me a gap-toothed grin as she skipped up the steps behind me.

  “I think your magic is way cooler than mine.”

  “Oh, stop.” Yutika giggled. “But keep going.”

  “This is unbelievable,” I murmured, taking it all in.

  The plane was big enough for at least twenty people. The first part of the plane was taken up by couches that were long and wide enough for several people to stretch out for a nap. Gold and silver pillows were stacked on either end of each of the couches.

  Large-screen TVs had been set up at the front and back of the plane. On one wall, portraits of each of the Seven—7.5, including Sir Zachary—hung above the windows.

  In the center of the plush, egg shell carpeting, there was a circular table. Five recliner chairs were pushed against the table, which was set for dinner. There was a silver dome at each of the place settings, which were labeled with our names. There were two sealed cans of grape soda next to Smith’s place card. The rest of us had crystal glasses filled with bubbling champagne. Out of curiosity, I took off the silver dome in front of my seat.

  My mouth watered as steam rose from the plate of poached salmon, buttered sweet potato, and asparagus. It was my favorite meal, but I hadn’t eaten it since I met A.J. and went vegan. I had no idea how Yutika had even known it was my favorite.

  With great reluctance, I put the tray back in place.

  “Holy moly,” A.J. said, coming onto the plane and taking his first look around. His h
ollow expression brightened at the sight of so much awesomeness.

  Michael was next. He had to stoop to keep from scraping his head against the plane’s ceiling.

  “This is really amazing, Yutika,” Michael said in his serious voice.

  “I was going to put in a hot tub,” Yutika said, giving the space a critical look. “But I figured that might be impractical with turbulence.”

  I plopped down onto one of the couches and sighed.

  “I’m never going back to commercial flying,” I told my friend, swinging my legs and marveling at all of the leg room.

  A.J. sat next to me and slid his feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers he’d pulled out of his bag. “I’ll have a ginger ale, no ice.”

  “I’m not a flight attendant.” Yutika scowled at A.J.

  In spite of her words, A.J.’s drink appeared a few seconds later.

  Michael and Yutika sat on the couch across from us. Michael said something in a quiet voice that made Yutika’s cheeks stretch into an enormous smile. After a shy glance in our direction, Michael lifted Yutika’s hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

  “Dear heavens,” A.J. said, giving Michael a horrified look. “The scandal.”

  Michael’s face turned red beneath his scruffy beard as he muttered something inaudible.

  “Meanwhile,” Yutika said, nuzzling against Michael’s broad arm before turning to the rest of us. “I hope you people are aware that I don’t know how to actually get this thing off the ground.”

  “But you’re so good behind the wheel of a car,” A.J. teased.

  Yutika gave him the finger.

  I was relieved to see A.J. bantering. As long as he was still doing that, he couldn’t be in too bad of a place.

  “If you can get us in the air,” Smith told A.J. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “You got it, sweet cakes,” A.J. replied. “Seatbelts, everyone.”

  I whooped in surprise and exhilaration when, without warning, the plane started to rise. Instead of rolling out onto the street and racing down the pavement like a runway, the plane just went straight up.