A Weapon Of Magical Destruction

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A Weapon Of Magical Destruction Page 3

by Katie Salidas


  “How about this?” Mark stood and held out a hand. “Pick your favorite takeout, and we’ll bring it to the house to eat.”

  She noticed it again – the strange watch he was wearing with the intricate tree branded into the leather. It was just the kind of thing she could wear to cover her deformity. It was still a strange choice for him to wear, though. “I could definitely go for some Chopsticks,” she said, keeping the conversation going as her eyes lingered on his leather cuff. “Might be the last time I ever have their house chicken.”

  She hadn’t yet taken his offered hand, but before she could, Mark pulled it back. “Your wish is my command. Let me just grab my briefcase.” He rushed from the room quickly, as if desperate to escape.

  Scurrying off seemed to be the theme of the day. Then again, she was not herself either. Wrestling with the feelings of depression over the loss of her mother made her want to run screaming from the building with every reminder of the woman she’d never see again. She’d taken for granted the notion that Mom was a fixture in her life. Her personal superhero. She might have moved away and begun her own path, but the anchor of home and family had given her security.

  That was over now, and each moment amplified the emptiness of being truly on her own.

  Through the glass-paneled walls of the conference room, Sage watched the comings and goings in the main lobby. Twenty-four-hour operations ran on layered shifts, and employees were wandering in and out of the front door and attached offices. Some people looked fresh-faced as they headed for the elevator banks, while others dragged their feet, heading toward the exit.

  She welcomed the monotony she’d be returning to when she got home. Idleness made the anguish all that much more unbearable.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a child walking alone from the elevator bank behind the receptionist desk. At first she thought he might be wearing an elaborate costume. Large brown ears protruded from the side off his head, and a green nose jutted out sharply like the beak of a bird. His little goblin face, pocked by warts and moles had dark wiry hairs sticking out in patches around his cheeks and chin. These were details she didn’t normally see on store-bought kids’ costumes. This was the kind of thing that would win contests at a comic convention or fantasy festival.

  What was a kid doing wandering around alone in the lobby? And why the elaborate disguise? It was too early for Halloween. Sage did a double take, blinking away the weariness from her eyes.

  On second glance, the child had gone, and in his place stood a man, shorter in stature than most but definitely not a child. A green ball cap sat on top of his head, and balanced on his shoulder was a long poster tube.

  She blinked again and tried to shake away the fog of exhaustion as she gave the man one last look. Yep. Normal skin. Normal guy.

  A mind fed by weekly role-playing games and a steady stream of sci-fi fandom had given her an imagination that could easily conjure up goblins. A dangerous combination when coupled with mental strain and lack of good sleep. Sage did allow herself a moment to laugh imagining goblin kids wandering the hallways at ASSET.

  Mark returned looking much more at ease than when he’d left. “Sorry. Last minute schedule change. Got a whole new batch of recruits, and they… ah, well, you don’t need details. Let’s go.”

  If he’d arrived a few minutes later, she’d have formulated an excuse to leave, but seeing the renewed eagerness in his smile, there would be no escaping dinner. She followed him out to the car.

  “I’ll have my boys send out your boxes tomorrow. Delivery to your apartment in Vegas, right?” he asked, as he unlocked the old green Jeep Wrangler.

  “Still have the beast?” She smiled at the caked-on mud by the tires and the thin layer of dust coating the body. With a quick swipe of her fingers she wrote Wash me on a rear panel and giggled at her private joke as she climbed into the passenger seat. As far back as she could remember, the beast had always been covered in some form of desert. And if Mark had dared to try to wash her, a haboob would blow through and cake the Jeep in a fresh layer of mud and dust.

  “Never getting rid of this beauty.” Mark patted the side of his beloved car.

  Most high-level executives drove luxury vehicles, but Mark had only ever driven this Jeep, as far as she knew. Being in it again brought back fond memories of learning to drive out in the desert. Nothing like having a roll cage and being set high above everyone else to give you a sense of security when you’re a newbie at the wheel, especially when off-roading.

  The sweet memories lightened her mood, and she strapped in and patted the car door lovingly.

  “You want to drive?” Mark asked.

  Sage shook her head. “I’ll just enjoy the ride.”

  “Nostalgia?” He chuckled.

  “A bit, yeah. There are still some good memories here.”

  “Speaking of… you didn’t answer. You want those boxes shipped to Vegas?”

  He had to sour the moment with reality, didn’t he? She grimaced but kept her voice neutral. “Might as well put them in storage. I’m not ready to look inside.”

  He must have sensed the sudden drop in mood. “Of course. We have a storage unit for all the things you just want to leave.” His tone sounded like an attempt at being upbeat, but he failed to invoke sufficient enthusiasm, as if he were unsure of exactly how he should proceed. It was clear to Sage that he wanted her to have some reasons to come back, and she dreaded the next step in that conversation, knowing it was coming.

  “Thanks,” she sighed.

  “And you know, if you want to move back…”

  There it was – the offer to stay. The offer to work with him would follow. The answer was no, but saying it so bluntly felt as if it would be like smacking him in the face for all he’d done for her family, and he was still doing to help her through this rough period. “I’m not selling Mom’s home, but I just can’t consider moving back right now. The pain is too raw.”

  Mark nodded, pulling his face into a forced smile. “You know I think of you like a daughter, right?”

  She tried to mimic the pleasantly neutral expression, but she was far less experienced at wearing the mask.

  “I take it as my personal duty to ensure you’re safe and protected.”

  “I know you do. And I appreciate it.” Trapped in the car now, there was no way to escape this conversation. She turned her head away, looking into the parking lot for anything to distract her or a reason to change the subject.

  “So should you ever consider it, I have a job waiting for you here at ASSET.” Mark started up the old Jeep, and she roared like a monster ready for the kill. “I’ll say no more. Okay?”

  Sage spotted the space where Mom had always parked. She hadn’t been gone long, but already her name had been wiped from the curb. So many times Sage had been here over the years. So many memories soured now by the emptiness of her loss.

  A flash of light caught her attention. A group of agents, wearing their black uniforms, was walking toward the back entrance of the building. Between them a wild man in restraints thrashed about, speaking in a language she’d never heard before. Flashes of blue light arced out from his hands as if he were conjuring bolts of lightning from thin air. But none of the men holding him seemed to notice or care. Even when those streams of light struck their bodies, they didn’t so much as flinch.

  “What the heck is that?” she asked, wondering if her mind were playing tricks on her again as it had earlier in the lobby.

  “Looks like the boys are bringing in someone for interrogation,” Mark replied casually. “Business as usual.”

  “But did you see the zaps?” she asked. “It was like…” She couldn’t finish the sentence without feeling silly.

  Mark turned to her, his eyes saying yes; but the words when they came out of his mouth opposed that thought. “Streetlights reflecting off the handcuffs, probably.”

  “That didn’t look like streetlights reflecting off of anything. It was…” She wanted to
say magic, but the word stuck in her throat.

  “Like what?” Mark asked, hanging on her response with more interest than he’d had in conversation all day. “Magic?”

  “I guess.” She feigned disbelief with a shrug. “For lack of a better word.” Thank goodness he’d said it and not her. “Or maybe a Taser gun.”

  “If it was a Taser, someone would be on the floor twitching.” Mark joked, and put the car in gear.

  The alternative sounded just as laughable. Magic. Maybe in the dream land she’d visited during her nap; she’d seen some very interesting uses of magic there. But this was the real world, where magic didn’t exist.

  She looked again, but the group had already disappeared into the building. That was no reflection, nor had it been a Taser. She wasn’t buying Mark’s casual dismissal of it. He was the director of operations – the kind of guy who knew everything that was going on at ASSET. If she had to venture a guess, ASSET had some pretty neat weaponry that the general public had not yet seen. Maybe something so unique and powerful it had rival companies trying to get their hands on it. And that made her wonder if her mother had been caught up in more than just a simple plane crash. Maybe that was why Mark was acting so weird and talking about her protection. Was he guilty of causing Miranda’s death in some way?

  “You sure I can’t convince you to come work for me?” Mark broke the silence with another attempt to make her stay.

  The answer was no, but Sage couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud, especially when her mind was still analyzing the possibilities of what might be going on there.

  “The job offer will be on the table for as long as I’m head of operations here,” he assured her. “When you’re ready. I’ll just leave it at that.”

  FOUR

  “Achievement unlocked!” Sage triumphantly announced to herself as she opened the door to her apartment, never more thankful to be back home. “Matty, I have survived my quest to the homeland and return relatively unscathed by the adventure.”

  “What loot did you bring me?” Matthew Donovan stalked toward the kitchen, stopping a few feet away from the door. His bulky six-foot-three frame blocked her passage further into the apartment. Arms crossed, he glared down, awaiting payment for safe passage.

  “I come bearing gifts of tiny foil-packed food items from the sky kingdom.” She smirked, holding up a handful of airplane snacks.

  He laughed. “You’re such a dork.” Crossing the small distance between them, Matt pulled her into a bear hug, lifting Sage off the ground as he crushed the air from her lungs. “Seriously, though. How are you holding up?”

  “Can’t breathe,” she feigned gasping for air. “Dying. Dead.” Sage went limp in his arms. “My spirit is leaving this realm.”

  “Such a drama queen.” He set her down and held the door open so she could bring in her luggage. “Seriously. I want to hear everything. Dish!”

  He was the best kind of roommate she could hope for. Strong, nerdy, and – best of all – only interested in men. He was equal parts gossip and guru, and always there to listen and give advice. “Thank the gods I have a sparring session tomorrow.” She pulled in her suitcase and let it collapse on the linoleum floor.

  “That bad, eh? Did Mark do the whole surrogate father thing?” he asked.

  Sage walked into the living room and flopped down on the microfiber sofa. “Worse. Everything was crazy weird. Like sci-fi weird. I was totally seeing things. I think I need a shrink or something. I’m losing my mind.” Unloading her mental baggage felt so good she hardly realized how much her rambling made absolutely no sense. Sage took a breath and tried to find the tracks where her train of thought had derailed and start again. “I felt so guilty because Mark looked like he was having a hard time dealing with Mom’s loss too. And the worst part: he offered me a job.”

  “Why?” Matt opened up the fridge and grabbed two beers. He twisted the bottle caps off as he walked over.

  “We’re as close as family, so he wants to make sure I’m taken care of, now that both my parents are…” She let the unspoken words float off into the air as she snatched hold of the beer Matt offered.

  “I get that.” He nodded thoughtfully. “But why in God’s name would you work for the same company that killed your mom?”

  “Damn dude! Drive that nail in harder, why don’t you?” Sage snarled at him, feeling like he was downplaying the emotional turmoil that the death of her mom had caused.

  To his credit, Matt’s expression matched his sorrowful tone. “Sorry, hun. I’ll retract the claws.”

  “Just a bit, please. The wounds are still bleeding.” She took a long pull from her beer, but the minute she swallowed, she knew it wouldn’t be strong enough to dull the pain. In fact, she’d done a lot of drinking on the plane and in the airport bar before takeoff, and couldn’t remember being even slightly buzzed. Something was seriously wrong with her. And it had all started when she’d gotten that first call from Mark with the bad news.

  “I’m just saying, he’s kind of an idiot for thinking you’d ever take the job.” Matt took a sip of his beer. “Maybe his heart was in the right place.”

  “Yeah.” That point couldn’t be argued. No matter what weirdness she’d seen back there in his office, Mark had made sure all the legalities were handled so she didn’t have to fumble through them herself. That was one thing she’d been able to count on her entire life: Mark being there to help take care of things. He’d been the father she never had. “He had the house all packed up. He even lined up a storage unit for me to hold on to all of their things until I’m ready.” Those last words hung in the air, a reminder of what Mark had said to her in the car. When you’re ready. As if he expected her to change her mind. Despite all her protest. Despite all the pain she felt over her mother’s death. Why would he think she would ever be ready to go work with him?

  “You should totally keep the house, though.” Matt’s suggestion brought her back into the conversation.

  How long had she been lost in thought? “Rental?” She threw the word out without really giving it any thought.

  “Yeah, and a vacation house, for when we want to get away from Sin City.”

  “It’s going to be a very long time before I’m ready to go back.” Would she ever be ready? No. If she were smart, she’d just sell the damn house and cut all ties. But those were thoughts she just wasn’t ready to entertain at that time. What she needed was distraction. Matt was normally good for helping to cheer her up. But, like the beer she continued to sip, the conversation with Matt was doing nothing to make her forget her troubles.

  “You’ll go back eventually. I’m not letting your mopey ass dwell forever.”

  “But I at least get a little time to dwell in goth-like darkness?” she snarked at him.

  “Oh, no, honey, you’re never allowed to go goth. Don’t make me raid your closet.” He waggled a finger at her before taking another pull from his beer.

  That made her crack the smallest beginnings of a smile. “I could totally pull off a Morticia Adams, though, right?”

  “Wednesday Adams, maybe,” he scoffed. “On a good day.”

  “Oooh, someone’s going full diva today. When was the last time Josh came by? You need a serious dose of happy right about now.”

  “Says the girl in mourning.” He arched an eyebrow at her that was every bit as fierce as the tone in his voice.

  “Touché. So. Since we both need a dose of happy, and I don’t have anything to punch till tomorrow for stress relief, how about we do the next best thing?”

  A wickedly sharp smile stretched across his face. He dove for the television remote before Sage could reach it. “Mad Man with a Blue Box marathon?”

  “Only if I get to pick the Doctor.” She matched his fierce eyes with her own narrow-eyed glare, daring him to defy her.

  “Rock. Paper. Scissors,” he said calmly.

  “My mother just died,” she countered.

  “Not fair, playing with emotions.�


  “When did I ever give you the impression I played fair?” she asked, lowering her voice to a near whisper. She knew how to play the game. Of the great battles waged throughout the centuries, this one continued to stir trouble between the sexes. It would keep raging on long after they were dead and turned to dust. But today, she would win control of the remote. Or die trying.

  “But you always pick Ten,” he whined, countering her defiant stare with puppy-dog eyes and a puffy lip.

  “You evil little troll! No one can resist those baby blues. Put them away!” she huffed, and made a show of turning away with an exaggerated shoulder slump of defeat. “Whatever. It’s fine.” She used her secret weapon. Every man who’s ever been in a relationship with a woman – platonic or not – knew the most deadly word in the female arsenal. Fine had a meaning all its own. Not something defined in any dictionary, but its significance came quickly after the word had been uttered. “Pick Eleven, then. I know you love him more,” she added, with an extra dose of passive-aggressive spite.

  “Ha! I win!” Matt pumped his fist in the air triumphantly as if he’d missed what she’d said, or simply didn’t care.

  Not possible. She was a master of this game. She’d said the magic word. Sage sent a deadly glare back over her shoulder. Perhaps he needed her to repeat herself.

  “But, because I’m the best roommate in the whole world,” Matt said, laughing at her anger, “I’m not going to pick Eleven this time. I will graciously give in to your desperate need of cheering up and watch the first season of Ten.”

  The most worthy of adversaries. He’d played her well and managed to come out looking like the champion. Good game! Matt was her soulmate in every way except physical. And it didn’t hurt that he was drop-dead gorgeous either. Why did all the really good ones have to be gay? All the man-candy she could take, but none of the calories. He was the ultimate forbidden fruit.

  “And that’s why I love you so much.” She stood and headed for the kitchen, considering their battle of wills a tie. “I’ll make the popcorn.”

 

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