by Deanna Chase
“Why did you conceal from me?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t have a weapon.” I huffed, pulling from his grip, but he did not let go.
“Tell me why you concealed, Mage!”
“Don’t touch me, let go of me!” I pushed my hand against his chest, but it merely absorbed my efforts.
Tires screeching in the street pulled my attention away. A door swung open from a beat-up Land Rover and I was so relieved to see Adam. That is until I saw the violence in his eyes.
Adam didn’t just walk over, he charged. With alarming speed he ran at Justus, armed to the teeth with fists and fury and a big knuckle sandwich.
“Wait! Razor, no!” I leapt up and crashed into him—but he was an unstoppable force and I wasn’t strong enough. I never really tried to control a hurricane, but hell, it was worth a shot.
Justus was still crouched over when he pivoted his head around to look at Adam. His eyes were blazing with anticipation as he rose to his feet. “You must be the friend.” He didn’t have to say it like that—teasingly—but it was laced with all kinds of insinuations.
“Razor, it’s not what you think. Look at me!” My legs anchored to the concrete, pushing him with all the strength I had.
“So you’re the kind who hides behind a woman?”
“Shut up!” I screamed at Justus, putting more of my shoulder against Adam.
Adam looked past me as if I weren’t even there. “Who the fuck are you? No one puts their hands on Zoë, feel me?”
“No, I’m not feeling you. And neither is she, from what I understand.”
Adam lunged and spit out a profanity when I fell off balance and hurtled toward the cement. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my arm out when I was caught.
It was Justus.
“How the hell did you just do that?” Adam said with his jaw nearly unhinged. I looked up and knew exactly what he meant. Justus was at least ten feet from where we were standing; there was no way he could have caught me that fast.
Shock wore off Adam long enough for him to pull me into his arms and give Justus a hard shove. “You okay?”
“Too late for a hero, Adam. Can you calm down?” I wriggled free, deciding not to be anyone’s claim.
Justus looked between us. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 11
Somehow, we made it back to the hotel without Justus and Adam killing each other. After Justus made a player’s catch, he divulged a little information that was convincing enough for us to talk with him privately. I was pretty surprised that Adam was agreeable to this, but maybe Justus had some answers I was looking for.
“Get out,” Justus barked at Adam. “This does not involve humans.”
“He stays or you go,” I said. Justus narrowed his eyes and tried to burn a hole in my head with them. I drew the line at excluding Adam.
Reluctantly, Justus found a chair, took a seat, and changed my life with a single word—Mage.
The very first thing he explained was that the word Mage did not have the same definition among Breed as the one I associated with it. Breed—meaning there were actually other species out there that were nonhuman.
According to Mr. De Gradi, a Mage was a type of Breed that could harness and manipulate energy in various ways. They didn’t work magic or spells, nor were they sorcerers. The simple truth was that a Mage was created from a human upon special selection. The reason he caught me so fast is that a Mage could ride a current of energy and move at impossible speeds across short distances. Some called them lightwalkers, but the common term was Mage and it was an honor to be made.
Some honor. I got the short end of the honor stick or got beat by it.
“We live among humans, but we are not bound by human laws. Each Breed has its own social order, and we must abide by it. There are consequences for breaking laws, and the one universal rule we never break is to reveal ourselves to humans.” A deliberate glare fell on Adam.
“Why?” I asked. Seemed like a reasonable question, after all—we were civilized now.
“Humans fear what they cannot have, and that is not a cliché. It has become much easier in today’s world to not be noticed. Despite their obsession with the paranormal—Vampire bars, animal-pattern tattoos, or altering their eyes with special contacts—humans want to feel safe. They want to be tucked in each night and know that there are really no monsters under the bed. It is safer to remain as we do and you’ll find there are many cities that are thick with Breed.”
“Like the middle of nowhere, Tennessee?” I asked, mocking him.
“I travel.”
“Whatever.”
Adam stayed quiet on the sidelines, listening as his fingers worried his chin.
“There are rogues who live among Mage, they live outside the laws and most of them are juicers.” He gave me a pensive stare. “Juicing is stealing someone’s light—stealing their energy. They do it as a high, it becomes addictive. They prefer other Mage because our light is so strong, but finding an unprotected Learner is not easy. But they’re out there… looking for them. The rogues usually attack humans and kill them in the process; their energy is too weak to satisfy a Mage who would take it all. We hunt them, track them down, and bring them to justice.”
“No pun intended, huh?”
“You’ve got quite a mouth on you.”
Adam lifted a finger. “And you better watch yours.”
I held my hand out before Adam started up again. “So what tipped you off that I was like you… a Mage?
Adam scraped his teeth over his bottom lip and I could tell despite the drive, he was still pissed off. “Was it when you grabbed her?”
“No,” Justus replied. “I saw it in her eyes. The light was there and it is unmistakable. Do not question my intentions, human. You do not play by the same set of rules we do.”
“I’ve never seen anything with her eyes. When she was emotionally charged there was an incident, but that’s all.” Adam shifted in his chair and worked his jaw to the side.
The only thing I gave him was a sour look. Now was seriously not the time.
Justus examined our body language and a smirk lit up his eyes. “Perhaps…” he let the word slide off his tongue, “she wasn’t charged enough by your encounters.”
Ouch.
Adam looked at me almost accusingly. “What were you two doing?”
But it was Justus who replied back. “Nothing I would recommend her ever doing with you, human.” There was a verbal warning stretching across the room like invisible daggers. “You should not touch her, and she definitely cannot touch you.”
Adam exploded onto his feet and Justus rose simultaneously. “Are you challenging me? Step outside and we’ll settle this like men. I only brought you here for information. You keep your insults in check or I’ll knock you on your face.”
I just sat back ringside, half-amused by the level of testosterone but equally unsure of how to handle the situation or even whose side to take. Justus was out of line for playing instigator, but I wasn’t ready to kick him out just yet. He knew more about me than even I did.
“Our kind does not mix with yours for a reason. I will say no more in the presence of the human. I must speak with you alone.”
“Adam,” I begged, searching for some kind of understanding. It was then that I saw the look in his eyes—as if I had betrayed him. When he left the room without a word, I sank in the red chair, miserable with guilt.
"Were you not approached to become one of us?”
“Attacked would be a better word.”
He pressed his lips and looked away. “The one who made you is a Creator. There are only a small few who possess the ability to create another Mage. It is regulated by the Mageri—the higher order of Mage law—and the Creator presents them officially. They do not abandon their progeny. There are regulations. If a Creator wants to make the blonde at Starbucks a Mage, that’s his decision. But everything must follow by the book.”
My chin rested a
gainst my knee as I idly picked at my toenail. Did he think I understood anything he was talking about? I was still trying to get over the fact that he referred to Adam as a human. Sparkler fingers or not, I still thought of myself as human. Justus suddenly grabbed both sides of the chair and shook it.
"Pay attention; you repeatedly try my patience."
“Get out of my face,” I yelled. I wasn’t a fan of space violation, and his car was parked over the line.
"Who is your Creator?" When he stepped back, I looked at him with a measured degree of restraint.
"I don't know."
"Learner, you would be attended by your Creator through your first years. You appear in a human bar and pretend to not know the custom of introduction; did someone put you up to this to gain information? Who is your Creator?"
“I. Don’t. Know.”
“Liar,” he roared as his body swayed forward like a dog on a tether. “How can you not know?”
"Because maybe he’s a rogue, a criminal, ever think of that? Don’t you think it’s possible there are Creators who break your laws? I don’t know why I am what I am, or even how. All I can tell you is that this man sliced my throat and left me for dead in the middle of an open field. I’m sorry if I didn’t have a chance to exchange fucking names," I screamed back. “So you can take your self-righteous ass to the bank and deposit that. And by the way, you approached me in that bar, not vice versa. So don’t play off like I’m trying to come after you for something.”
Justus swayed with a blank expression. "He hurt you, your Creator?”
Tapping my head in annoyance, I said, “Are you listening? He killed me. Dead, as in my heart stopped.” I threw my head back and closed my eyes. “Doesn’t matter, you won’t find him anyhow. He’s probably dead.”
"First of all, you didn’t die. Second of all, how is it possible he would be dead?" Justus stared down his nose at me as if I were a child making up a story so they wouldn’t get in trouble.
"Before we take this conversation any further, you need to know one thing—I fucking died. I’m not going to play ring-around-the-rosy about it either—accept it or don’t, but quit challenging me on it. If that’s not how a Mage is made then I guess he broke some rules. He’s probably in the cemetery because in the end I heard a loud noise, like a shotgun."
He dropped his arms and turned away. "This is unprecedented."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
Justus finally took a seat by the window.
"After my body changed I started to notice something was off. I shocked Adam with my hands as if they were a pair of CPR paddles.”
"New body?"
I gave my hands a magical wave over myself. “And you said there was no magic involved.”
"You woke up changed… physically?"
"No, I woke up as myself in a body bag full of my own blood.” He cringed when I brought up that juicy little tidbit. “I changed later. I was still unconscious, but Adam saw every mesmerizing detail of it."
Justus flew out the door, which thumped against the wall on his exit. A couple of minutes later he returned with Adam tracing his steps.
"Please, sit," Justus said as the door clicked shut. He motioned Adam toward the table, who gave me an inquisitive glance before obliging him.
"I would not involve a human in Breed matters as this is not within the law, but you already know more than you should. I need you to tell me what happened to this Learner; she says that you witnessed her body change and I want to know every scrap of fact.”
Thirty minutes later, Adam divulged every detail of my transformation—some of which he had never mentioned to me. Hearing it out loud, knowing it was fact, made me question the sanity in that room. It didn’t seem possible in a world of science that magic really did exist.
Adam wasn’t without his own questions. “You said juicers steal from humans?”
“Only the strung-out ones will attack humans—they’re just a sampler. A human doesn’t hold as much energy and they will die when used up. The high you get from juicing a human is not as gratifying, and it requires more to get their fix, which is why there are often multiple attacks. It makes them easy to find; they get sloppy. That’s why most hunt for unprotected Learners. A Mage can be used repeatedly as an infinite source of power, and that is very desirable for a juicer.”
“What did you mean by conceal?” I asked.
“It is custom that we do not conceal entirely in a human establishment. We flare, it’s our call mark. Once a Mage picks up the flare of another, you either introduce yourself or face the consequences. I can’t pick it up on one so young since you don’t know how to flare. Until you are properly learned, you must be escorted in public. I’m not interested in learning you. Right now, I need to learn from you. Who is your maker?”
Only this time when he asked the question it was indirect, as if he were asking himself.
“If you say you were killed, then no one has ever created a Mage under these circumstances. It is transference of power, a consensual act. Progeny belong to their Creators until they are fit to become independent. You may not realize what that means now, but your life is no longer your own.”
“I don’t belong to anyone. The man who made me has no rights, none whatsoever, after leaving me to die. That, my friend, is what I consider disownment. He relinquished his rights to me the minute that blade touched my neck.”
“Define belong.” Our heads turned simultaneously to Adam.
“He can claim her whenever he wants. A Creator is responsible for those that they make, because a Learner must know how to wield their power. They are a child. They are… dangerous to humans. If left abandoned, they would be corrupted with power and abused. Abandonment is not taken lightly and no Learner is left to wander. I’ve never seen one abandoned upon their making. A Mage literally owns their progeny, with full entitlement to them as a parent would have over a child.”
His eyes fell on me, weighted with concern. “You will be free of him only upon his death or official disownment of you. And the latter would be more likely. That can only be made official in front of the Council, otherwise he has fair claim whenever he chooses to take it.”
“Like an unclaimed lottery ticket.” Adam sighed. “You mention a Council, so I’m assuming you have your own laws. If what he did was—”
Justus waved his hand up. “We have no laws for what he has done to create her. So with that, I do not know how much of the law applies. No one dies during the exchange. I do not know how that is even possible. It is a great honor and privilege to be made. I cannot explain the transformation—only the Creator knows the magic; perhaps he has a special gift.”
Justus turned his attention to me. “And that was no gunshot; it was the first spark of your life as a Mage.” His eyebrows pressed down, shrinking the color from his eyes, and I saw something in there I didn’t like—pity.
“I don’t want to belong to anyone.” I looked to Adam for support.
Adam ruffled his wavy hair, now a good three inches long, and made a decision.
“Zoë stays with me as long as she needs, but she is her own. She didn’t consent to any of this and does not belong to your… kind.”
I should have liked to hear those words, but for some reason I was bothered by them. Adam still saw me as different and wanted to keep me from what I was. I didn’t mind the security of his protection, but if his intentions were to shelter me, I was going to have a problem with that.
Justus, on the other hand, was infuriated, and it showed in the accusatory finger-pointing. “If she does not comply with our laws, she will be considered a rogue! Her maker will know her; he can sense his own. Let me put a fright in you—that he may already have watch on her and is deciding this very moment her fate.”
Adam’s face was worried as he rubbed his hand across his frown. We both knew that to be true.
“A human could never offer the protection she requires,” Justus began. “Eventually, she’ll run into another Mage and w
ill be taken—used. You carry his mark; for better or worse you are his.” Something flashed across his face. “I will speak to the Council to be placed as your Ghuardian. I will deal with him if he comes to claim you; if the Council learns the conditions of your making, they may be lenient and force him to relinquish his rights.”
“I am not marked, and who are you to speak to anyone about me, you don’t even know me.” I bit my quivering lip in a feeble attempt to contain my emotions of panic and anger. The adrenaline was wearing off and I had never felt so empty, so exposed for what I was. I occasionally stole a glance at Adam, but I was never quite able to read his face.
“You are marked. We are all marked.” Justus rose to his feet and lifted his shirt above the belly button, revealing with pride what could have easily resembled a small tattoo. It was an inch long on his stomach, in the shape of an unfamiliar symbol. “Upon your making you take the mark of your Creator.”
“Nice tattoo.”
His eyes shrank into tiny slivers that set those golden lashes aflame. “Why don’t you show me yours? I showed you mine.”
“I just bet you’d like that.”
“Your mark will reveal who your maker is; it is unique to only him and all his progeny carry it.”
“Are you bleeding?” While I had noticed the tear in his shirt, I hadn’t been paying attention to the dark stain around it. I guess I thought it was dirt or mud, but when I finally saw the smear of red against his skin, it became evident he was hurt.
“Yes, but I’ll heal.”
“You’re saying that a Mage heals differently?” Adam asked.
The shirt fell loose and Justus tucked his hands over his waist. “I’m saying we are immortal, human. If the mark is known by the Council, it will identify her Creator.”
“Again, I’m not marked. I think I’ve taken enough showers in the past few weeks to do the whole getting to know me bit." Anger was flaring.
Primarily the reason I was angry was the way Adam was looking at me. I couldn’t tell if it was fear or repulsion, but it struck a chord deep inside.
“I saw your shoulder, Zoë, it shouldn’t have healed that fast.”
