Magic Hunter: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Vampire's Mage Series Book 1)

by C. N. Crawford

  “Is there anything else?” he asked, his eyes roaming over her body.

  “That’s it. Just soreness.”

  His gaze met hers. “I didn’t realize how bad it was. You had five broken ribs.”

  “You let him torture me.” She sat up. “Why didn’t you stop it?” She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know the answer.

  “There were two reasons.” He spoke quietly, gently picking up her hand. “One—the Brotherhood believed that iron chains were enough to bind an incubus. I didn’t want to dispel that myth. If they believe iron alone can hold us, it works to our advantage. That meant I had to wait until it looked like you were the one to break us out—until you very ingeniously found a way out of that chair. And the other was simply that Josiah’s interrogation gave me valuable information. I now know what’s important to him and to the Brotherhood. I know what he knows about us, and what he doesn’t.”

  “Sounds very practical.” She pulled her hand from his grasp and drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them. “Is there anything he could have done that would have spurred you to action, or would you have sat there and watched him murder me as long as you got the information you wanted?” She wasn’t sure why she felt so betrayed. He’d never promised her anything more than an uneasy alliance. Like he’d said. They weren’t friends.

  “Don’t be absurd. I wouldn’t have let it go that far.” He looked down at his hands. “I didn’t realize the damage he was doing. I forget sometimes how fragile human bodies are. But you need to get over it. You’re alive. And if it makes you feel better, I plan to kill him in the most excruciating way possible.”

  “I’m not sure that makes me feel better. And that’s another thing—how are we any better than the Brotherhood if we kill everyone just like they do?”

  He shrugged. “We aren’t any better.”

  She’d been expected some kind of argument, and had no idea what to do with that response. “But I hate them and what they do. I don’t want to be the same as them, or I’d have to hate myself. I used to think it was okay to kill people as long as they weren’t human, but I’ve changed my mind. It’s immoral to kill people unless it’s pure self-defense. Like, if you’re about to die.”

  “We’re at war, Rosalind.”

  “Only because everyone keeps saying we’re at war.” Loring was right about that much—words had power.

  “Mmm.” He apparently couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over her bare skin now that it had been healed. “Well, let me know when your semantic argument convinces the Brotherhood to stop hunting demons, and I’ll let things lie.” Blood still poured from the bullet hole in his neck, and he winced.

  “Can you heal yourself?” she asked. Even if he was a demon, a bullet to the neck had to hurt.

  “No. It doesn’t work that way.”

  “You can only be healed by human women.”

  “And Orcus. He’s not quite as enjoyable, but I don’t imagine you’re going to volunteer.”

  “Orcus it is.” She heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to kiss him again. She wanted it a little too much. His touch could distract her from what they needed to do. Maybe some moral quandaries were murky, but spending the night in the arms of an incubus while your best friend and sister were being tortured went into full blown sociopath territory.

  The door creaked open, and Orcus poked his head in.

  At the sight of his shining skull, Rosalind pulled her shirt closed. It was one thing for Caine to see her half-naked, but the grim reaper was another matter.

  Orcus cleared his throat. “The bath is drawn for the lady. I left you both a change of clothes in the washing room. But could you please tell me what I’m supposed to do about Bileth? He has been here three times looking for you, and I’m fairly certain he intends to send you into the shadow hell in a most unpleasant fashion.”

  Caine rubbed the center of his forehead. “Arrange for ten courtesans to visit him. And find ones that look like Rosalind. Tell him they’re a gift from me, and that I’ve already punished her severely.”

  “Of course, Master.”

  Caine glanced at her. “You should go soak your muscles. The bath he’s drawn will heal the ache in your bones.”

  She clenched her fists. “We need to talk about breaking into the Brotherhood. I want to get in there now.”

  “I’ll join you in a moment, and we’ll talk.” He eyed her thoughtfully. “I’ll keep my gaze on the floor, if you want.”

  “Good.”

  Orcus’s heels clacked over the flagstones. “Master, I must heal your neck.”

  Rosalind rose, holding her ripped shirt closed, and strode across the cold flagstones in her bare feet. She pushed open the door into a stone washroom. A silver, clawfoot bath stood in the center, filled with bubbles and herbs, and candles guttered in spidery sconces. A silver-framed mirror hung over a sink.

  She draped the blanket over a chair before slipping out of her underwear and padding over to the tub. She climbed in, lowering herself into the warm water scented with rose petals and foxglove. She leaned back, resting her neck on the tub’s edge. If she weren’t battered by worry, this would be heaven.

  As the water melted the ache from her body, she mentally ran through her plan. Magic was useless in the Brotherhood’s chambers, and technology controlled the whole building: retina scanners, key cards to get in and out, auto-locking doors, sensors that detected magical auras, the sprinklers of iron dust… If she controlled the technology, she controlled the Chambers.

  She dipped lower in the bath, inhaling the steam. It all started with a laptop. What were the chances that Orcus had a laptop lying around—that he spent his nights gaming or watching online porn?

  Behind her, the door creaked open, and she turned her head to find Caine, his eyes downcast. “I’m going to be exercising a lot of restraint for this conversation.”

  “I need a laptop.”

  “A what?”

  “A computer. You know—a digital device? Zeros and ones? Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?”

  “I’ve heard the word before, but Maremount technology is about four hundred years behind yours.”

  She turned to look at him. “Well, magic is no use to us in the Chambers, so we’ve got to use what’s available. I don’t suppose you have a spell that creates a laptop?”

  “No. Most of our spells are medieval. I could blight someone’s cabbage crop without a problem.” He pulled off his shirt, and she caught a glimpse of the red streaking his perfect chest. Facing the mirror, he grabbed a cloth, scrubbing at some of the blood. “What, exactly are the details of this plan?”

  “If I can hack into the Brotherhood’s computer systems, I can control the building. We can get in; the prisoners can get out.” Suddenly excited, she sat up, and the suds dripped down her skin. “I can turn off the dust, shut down the scanners, unlock the doors. I can control it all.”

  His eyes met hers in the reflection, and he paused, his cloth hovering mid-air. He swallowed hard. “I forgot what we were talking about.”

  “We were talking about you looking in another direction.”

  “Right.” He finished cleaning off the blood and pulled off his pants.

  For a moment, his strong, athletic form distracted her. Focus, Rosalind. She was turning into that full blown sociopath she’d imagined before. “So how do we get a laptop?”

  He stepped into a pair of freshly-laundered black pants. “I could just take one from someone.”

  “Half of Cambridge will have one,” she said, pushing aside any moral quibbles about theft. “We’re not far from Harvard. The students will be walking around with them.”

  He slid his shirt over his broad shoulders. “Give me ten minutes.”

  Chapter 29

  After Caine left, Rosalind stepped out of the bath, drying herself off with a towel.

  She slipped into the clothes that Orcus had laid out—a pair of black leggings, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket
. He’d even included a pair of bright red underwear, exactly her size. Either one of Caine’s conquests had left these items behind, or Orcus had created them through magic, perfectly gauging her size. She wasn’t sure which possibility was weirder.

  Either way, she had more pressing matters on her mind. She pulled on her boots, zipping them over her pants. She was desperate for a computer.

  She racked her brain for everything she could remember about assembly languages from her class last semester. Right now, lives depended on her ability to recall Professor Carroll’s murderously dull lectures about compiling.

  She pushed through the door into the celestial room, sitting on the edge of the bed, her nails digging into the blanket. An image burned in her mind—Miranda tied to a chair, her limbs beaten bloody by Josiah. Rosalind shook her head, trying to force the picture from her mind. This wasn’t the time to lose it. Think of something calming: the water running over my toes at the beach, a hawthorn grove.

  It was strange. Lingering around the edges of her most cherished childhood memories were Miranda and Caine, ephemeral figures in the hollows of her mind. Caine’s eyes were her only solid memory. Gray irises and sun kissed skin— such a beautiful combination of warm and cool, like when sunlight pierced the storm clouds. It was so much like Malphus…

  She shuddered. She couldn’t think of Malphus now.

  She couldn’t let herself picture the pained look in his eyes as Josiah had twisted the stake in his heart. Did the other incubus live still in those dungeons, or had she unknowingly participated in his brutal murder?

  She stood, pacing the room. She’d have to tell Caine—maybe she should have told him already. An ache welled in her chest. She tried to force out the images flitting through her mind: Josiah beating Miranda, Tammi trembling in the corner of an empty cell room, Rosalind’s own face as she poured the water over Malphus…

  She forced back tears, gripping her hair by the roots. She had to keep it together. Tammi and the others needed her to stay sane, and if Malphus was still in the Chambers, this was her chance to make up for what she’d done, by saving him.

  The door creaked open, and she glanced up to see Caine holding a laptop bag. He slid the bag onto the desk. “I got the thing you wanted. I hope this works.” He eyed her. “Are you okay? You look a little… upset.” He approached her, gently touching her shoulder.

  “That’s what happens when you get tied to a chair and tortured.”

  He folded her in an embrace, his strong arms encircling her, and she melted into him, listening to his heart beat. He ran a hand down her hair. “You’re okay now.”

  “Maybe I deserved it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. “You said that you knew someone else in the Chambers.”

  He pulled away, studying her. “Yes.”

  “Was he an incubus like you?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yes. Did you see him?”

  She nodded, hugging herself. “I saw him. Malphus. But he couldn’t get out of the chains. He’d been staked in the heart.”

  Caine backed away, his eyes darkening. “Is he dead?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I never saw him after that day. Josiah told me he was a murderer and a rapist. He even showed me the pictures.”

  “Josiah lies.” His eyes flashed like storm clouds.

  She tried to force back the tears. “Josiah said if we didn’t interrogate Malphus, it would lead to hundreds or thousands of human deaths. We hurt one to save many. A demon for many humans. It was simple math.”

  “Math,” he repeated, his voice glacial. “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

  “You know him.” A hollow opened up in the pit of her stomach. “Who is he?”

  “It’s none of your concern.”

  Caine glared at her, his eyes cold, black pools.

  The judgment on his face stoked her ire. “What are you on your high horse about? You seemed perfectly fine with torture a half hour ago when it was me in the chair.”

  “When Josiah was interrogating you, you didn’t have a hawthorn stake jutting from your ribs.”

  “Humans don’t need a hawthorn stake to feel the blows,” she shot back.

  “And I would have stopped it before he did any serious damage. I would have got you out of there. Can you tell me the same for Malphus?” His voice sent a chill through her. “Is he even alive?”

  “I have no idea, but I guess you could say when I interrogated Malphus, I was acting tactically. It is a war, after all. Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Well, then.” Venom laced his voice. “If you plan to be strategic, you’d best get to work on your brilliant plan. And I really do hope it’s brilliant.”

  Chapter 30

  Over an hour later, and after three cups of coffee, she’d managed to piece together what she could remember of assembly languages. She was fairly certain her plan was brilliant.

  Now, she needed to shove all the panic into her mental vault so she could focus—just like she was attempting to block out the open hostility radiating from Caine, who’d been pacing back and forth across the room like a caged animal for the entire hour.

  She sat at the edge of the bed, laptop open. Before emailing Josiah, she glanced at the clock: 3:14 a.m. She’d set up the email to come from a burner account, Cleo.X@sanguinebrotherhood.ca. In the subject heading, she typed “Info about Rosalind.” She clicked the paperclip, attaching a document called “Rosalind_location.docx.”

  Only a lunatic would open a random file from a suspicious account, but Josiah probably fit that description. Her entire plan hinged on his fanatical need for control outstripping his judgment. The man was so desperate for revenge that he might not be able to restrain himself.

  Once he opened the attachment, the worm she’d created would infect the system, allowing her to explore the network.

  Her body buzzed with excitement—or possibly caffeine overload. If she’d gauged this right, she had the potential to gain control over the entire security system. Finally, all the time she’d spent listening to Professor Carroll’s monologues would actually pay off with a stunning takeover of the Chambers.

  Caine paced over the floor, clearly riled by the inaction. “You realize that we can only rescue Aurora before the sun comes up, right? I think we should revisit Tammi’s suggestion to use explosives.”

  “Explosions would risk killing the people we’re trying to save.”

  “I want to kill people. And you want me to wait while you tap away with your fingers.”

  “There’s a point to this. I’ve created a computer worm.” She took another sip of Orcus’s weird, herbal coffee. Ignoring Caine’s fierce glare, she opened Terminal and typed tail -F access.log.

  “You’ve created a worm,” he repeated in a tone that said she’d lost her mind.

  “The US government used something like this to hack into Iran’s nuclear centrifuges. The worm will install itself, giving me access beyond the firewall. Through the server, I’ll be able to command the system. I can survey the network to see what’s there. I’ll be able to figure out how to control the building.”

  Caine rested his palms on the table, staring down at her. “You’re not talking about a literal wall of fire, are you? That was the only thing I could picture from what you just said.”

  She let out a sigh. “Let me put it this way: If this works, we can shut down the Chamber’s retina and ID scanners. Anyone will be able to get in the building. All the prisoners will be free to escape their rooms. And I can disable the sprinklers that spray iron dust, so anyone with magic can fight back.”

  He straightened, suddenly interested. “If we went in, I could use my magic in the Chambers?”

  “Assuming you can do it without destroying the place.”

  “Destroying the place would be the whole point.”

  She kept her eyes locked on the dark screen, waiting for an update. Everything—her chance to redeem h
erself, her friends lives—it all depended on one line of code. Come on, Josiah, you psychotic asshole. Open the email.

  Her heart skipped a beat as a line of code updated in terminal—the Brotherhood’s server had made a request. She loosed a long breath. “It’s working. Josiah opened the attachment. Dumb fuck.”

  “What’s happening?” Caine asked, leaning over her.

  Her pulse raced, and she typed a command telling the Chamber’s server to download mapping software. It would allow her to scan the network. “I’m looking for vulnerabilities.”

  “Exploit vulnerabilities,” he said, a hint of admiration seeping into his tone. “Like you so cleverly did with Josiah.”

  “Same idea.”

  “Good. I look forward to finding out if your colleagues murdered Malphus.”

  She flinched, trying to scan through computer names in Nmap. “You’re not helping me focus, Caine.”

  retinascan.brotherhood.agency.gov. And those would be the retina scanners. They weren’t exactly very well hidden. The computers controlling the badge scanners had a similarly obvious name.

  Probing further, she picked out the name dust.brotherhood.agency.gov—the iron dust.

  If they’d promoted her to Guardian and put her in charge of their security systems, she would have renamed their computers, but they’d screwed that right up.

  She inhaled deeply, picking up the gun she’d stolen earlier. “Are you ready to transport us? Once I make these changes, all hell will break loose in the Chambers. I want to make sure Tammi doesn’t get lost. Or eaten by a starving demon.”

  “I’ve been ready for over an hour.”

  One by one, she picked through the computers—the ones that simulated sunlight to burn the vamps, those that blasted hawthorn stakes at incubi. She rewrote the code until none of them were functioning, and in a final masterstroke, she shut out the lights.

  Chaos would rule the Chambers tonight.

  After she disabled the last computer, she stood, facing Caine. Her body trembled with anticipation. “Let’s go.”