Magic on the Storm ab-4

by Devon Monk

  Maybe they had disks to drain, but I didn’t see any discarded empty disks on the floor.

  “Allie?”

  “More spells over here. There was a fight. All these spells are collapsed in on themselves and tangled together.” I shook my head. “It’s a mess, but they still bear Kevin Cooper’s signature.”

  The crystal in my hand was feeling heavy and cold. “Is there anything else you want me to look at, because I think my battery’s going dead.”

  “This is where they found Kevin.” He pointed to a place near the door of the room. Like Kevin had been trying to get out and leave Violet behind. Strange.

  I walked over to the door without losing my hold or concentration on Sight and Smell.

  Death magic. I couldn’t smell it, but it cast just enough of a shadow that I knew it had been mixed with dark magic. The only people I’d ever seen wield dark magic were Frank Gordon, who tried to raise my dad’s soul from the dead, Zayvion, who used it as well as he used every other discipline of magic, and Greyson, who used it mixed with Blood magic to control Tomi. Since Frank was dead and Zayvion was comatose, that left Greyson.

  I inhaled, trying to catch his scent-death and blood and burnt blackberry-but all I came up with was the slight tang from Death and dark magic, and the scent of old vitamins. Beneath that, I caught the notes of Kevin’s cologne, a mix of spices, and blood-his blood.

  “There’s nothing here I can testify to,” I started. “Magic was used, but I don’t know these spells.” I didn’t want to tell Stotts it was dark magic. As far as I knew, he didn’t know about dark magic. The entire event in the warehouse with Frank and my dad’s corpse had been chalked up to some kind of mutated Blood magic. That was not what it had been, but that was what the Authority had wanted people to think it was.

  And so that was what the lab tests came back with, that was the official police report, and that was what the causes of death on the four kidnapped girls’ death certificates read.

  I glanced out in the hall to see if there was anything else beyond the room. Nothing, or at least no spells, that I could see.

  The crystal suddenly went so cold it hurt.

  “Ow!” The pain in my hand broke my concentration, and the glyphs for Sight and Smell faded.

  I almost dropped the crystal, but instead tossed it to my other hand, and then back and forth like a hot potato.

  “That it?” Stotts strolled over. He didn’t look at all concerned that I’d gone all Hacky Sack crazy.

  “Really cold.” I tossed the crystal at him, and he caught it.

  “Huh.” He held it with the fingertips of one hand, and traded off when he couldn’t stand the cold any longer, studying it and holding it up to the light. Then he placed it on a clear space on the counter.

  I swear I heard the crackling of ice. I looked at the crystal.

  Yep. Froze the countertop out in a foot circle.

  “Is this something new Beckstrom Enterprises is developing?” Stotts asked.

  “It’s something we’ve looked into. I haven’t gotten reports of its viability in terms of development, manufacturing, or marketing yet.” See, I could lie in business-speak when I had to.

  Stotts gave me a funny look. “You have a crystal that acts like a battery for magic, and you’re trying to decide if it’s a good idea to market?”

  “It’s the paperwork I hate.”

  The ice seemed to be melting some, and I thought the crystal looked a little less white and a little more pink.

  Will it recharge? I asked my father.

  Yes. Again with the hesitance.

  That was good enough for me.

  “I’m going to take this,” I said.

  Stotts raised one eyebrow. “Why?”

  “It is legally my property,” I said.

  “True. Property you didn’t know was here until a few minutes ago.”

  “Let me put it this way-I’m not leaving it here. I don’t want anyone to break in and take it, and since it wasn’t involved in the crime, I don’t see any reason why the police would have claims to it.”

  “And you’re keeping it because?”

  “I want it?” He didn’t believe me, and I didn’t care. “Listen, I used all the magic in it. I don’t know how to recharge it with magic, don’t even know if it can be recharged. But I want to keep it. If it’s Violet’s, I’ll return it to her.”

  Stotts sniffed and looked down at his shoe. Man had a mess of problems to deal with right now and me pitching a fit over a pretty rock did not rank up there on his list of traumas he had to plow through. Not with magic out. Not with the backups about to go down.

  “Do you know why someone would want to take the disks?” he asked.

  “They were filled with magic,” I said. “All of them.”

  “And anyone can access that magic?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked at me and I looked at him. In a city suddenly empty of magic, both of us were probably coming up with a thousand horrific things someone would want to do with a hundred disks full of power.

  “I still think a storm, a wild-magic storm, is going to hit,” I said. “Maybe it will kick-start magic again.”

  Stotts grunted and shoved both his hands in his coat pockets, shifting his shoulders as if carrying a new ache. “Interesting theory.”

  “Do you need me for anything else?” I asked before he came up with questions I didn’t want to answer.

  Stotts shook his head. “If I do, I’ll call.” He walked me to the door of the room. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything more.”

  I pocketed the crystal and started down the hall.

  “Allie?”

  I slowed and glanced over my shoulder at him.

  “Whatever it is that you’re thinking of doing. Don’t. We’ll handle it.”

  I wondered what he saw in me. Was it my anger? My fear? Or did I just have a bad reputation for doing stupid things when magic was screwing with the people I loved?

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. Stotts and I were enough alike, we both knew that when people I cared about were hurt, there was no way in hell I was going to just stand aside and let other people handle the problem.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was colder now and darker outside the lab, but at least it wasn’t raining.

  “Want a lift?” Shame stood on one side of the police tape. Even though he had no magic, he still managed to blend in and look like he was just another citizen out ogling the police and pony show.

  I strode down the walk toward him and didn’t stop. “Where’d you park?”

  “Up a block. What’s the hurry?”

  I had to press my lips together to keep from yelling. I shook my head.

  He got the hint and paced me, then unlocked the car so I could get in. Shame got in the driver’s side, which was fine with me. Even though Shame still looked like death on a low simmer, I was angry. And I didn’t want to kill us on the highway.

  As soon as Shame started the car, a coo called out from the backseat.

  I knew that coo.

  “Stone!” I unbuckled so I could sit up on my knees and reach back for him. “Where’d you find him?”

  “He found me,” Shame said.

  Stone filled the entire backseat; his head rested on his outstretched arms like he was really tired. But at the sound of my voice, his ears pricked up into sharp triangles and his wings shifted against his muscled back. He tipped his head enough he could look at me and gave me a toothy smile.

  “I missed you, boy.” I reached back and petted his head.

  Three things sank in: one, Stone was cool, not cold, but not his usual cozy temperature. Two, he wasn’t moving as fluidly as he should, his motions catching like he was full of gears that had rusted up. Three, his eyes were different. Usually his eyes shone with a sweet kind of intelligence. Right now they were dull, like someone had taken a sandblaster to them and left behind clouds.

  “Hey, boy,” I said more gently. “Who
’s my good boy? Who’s my big hunter gargoyle? That’s right, that’s you. You’re a good boy.” I rubbed his head and scratched behind his ears. He angled his head for a better scratching, but did it slowly. His coo and his happy marble sound were too soft, like all he had left in him was a whisper.

  “Stay there, boy, okay? Sleep time.”

  He gave me a rock-garbled reply and dropped his head back down to rest on his forearms.

  “He’s not moving very well.” I don’t know why I said it. It was obvious. Shame knew it. I knew it.

  “I’m amazed he’s still moving at all,” Shame said. “Maybe he has his own backup spell battery in that belly of his.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help him?” I asked.

  “Besides getting magic up and running again?”

  “What happens if he runs out before then?” I asked.

  Shame just shrugged. “You tell me. No one’s been able to pull off an Animate this big for years.”

  I rubbed at my forehead. I had no idea what would happen. I didn’t want to think about it.

  “At least we know where he is,” Shame said.

  True. I could probably get him up into my apartment if I had to. And if he ran out of magic there, at least I’d know someone wasn’t breaking him up into gravel or turning him into a table or something.

  “You want to tell me where I’m driving?” Shame asked.

  “Legacy Emanuel. Someone broke in and stole all the disks.”

  “All?”

  “Hundreds. Charged with magic.”

  Shame’s eyebrows shot up. Yeah, it freaked me out too.

  Then he started laughing. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Now? Really? Hundreds of disks on the loose with a goddamn storm bearing down on the city? Perfect. Just perfect.”

  “Do you know what the disks will do when the storm breaks?”

  “Not a damn clue. Might be nothing. Might be a lot. If we see a mushroom cloud suddenly blow out half the damn city, we’ll know for sure. Fuck it all. Did you Hound for Stotts?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Shame slanted me a look that was pure appreciation. “I’d be interested to know how you pulled that off.”

  I tugged the crystal out of my pocket and held it up for him to see. It was still cool, but not frostbite cold. “Ever see this before?”

  Shame glanced at it. “God’s balls, woman. Where did you get that?”

  “In there.”

  Shame made a quick right turn and nearly hit a car that honked as it went past us. He stopped in a lot behind an office building and twisted in his seat. “Give.”

  Yes, I was hesitant to give it to him. But whom else was I going to trust with this? Whom else could I even ask about it? Maybe Violet. If she were conscious.

  I handed it to him. Shame held it like it was made of gold and unbroken dreams. “It’s natural,” he said. “Who-no, how can this even exist?”

  “It carried magic. Enough I could Hound the room.”

  “Still does. It’s weak, thin, but it is refilling, slowly. . like the heartbeat of the world.” Shame licked his lips and swallowed hard. Then he slowly pressed it against his mouth. He closed his eyes and a shudder shook him.

  “Shame?”

  With visible effort, he lifted the stone away from his lips and held it out to me, without looking at me, without looking at the stone.

  “Take it. I’d drink it dry.”

  I hesitated. Shame wasn’t looking good, but the stone seemed to have brought a little color into his lips. Maybe letting him use the magic in the stone would help. “Maybe you-,” I started.

  “No.” He looked away, looked out the window at the dark city. “You don’t want me to have that. It will only make me want more.” I saw the reflection of his smile in the glass, and it was pure hunger and need, coupled with a willpower I didn’t know he had.

  I shoved the stone in my pocket and Shame rubbed his hand on his thigh, as if trying to rub off the sensation it had left behind. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and held it between his fingers, but didn’t light it. He went back to driving like nothing had happened.

  Except I could tell his hands were shaking, and he was sweating. Not pain. Hunger.

  “What did you see when you Hounded?” he asked as if we were talking about the weather.

  This was the weird part. Shame had been raised in the Authority. He knew more political backstabbings and payoffs among the people in the Authority than I’d ever get the inside skinny on. His mother was a voice in the Authority, essentially speaking for every user who trained under Blood magic. He had more connections than Velcro.

  If I told him the Authority was behind the breakin, whom would he tell? Did he already know someone in the Authority wanted the disks enough to attack my pregnant stepmother?

  There is a reason I am not a spy. I do not do the cloak-and-dagger bit worth a shit. I prefer to lay my cards on the table, and then draw a gun to clear up any misunderstandings.

  That meant it was default mode again-the truth.

  “Someone from the Authority broke in. Fought with Kevin. Hurt him. Hurt Violet. With magic.”

  Shame was silent. I watched his body language. Something like curiosity or like he was trying to figure out where that information fit in with other information.

  “Could you tell who it was?” Flat, even. He knew how to keep his emotions in check when he wanted to. Wasn’t that a surprise?

  “Dane Lannister.”

  Shame frowned. “Seriously?”

  I nodded.

  “Huh.”

  “Do you know why he would do that? Couldn’t he have told Kevin he wanted the disks?”

  Shame took a deep breath, let it out. “I don’t know. There are always things going on in the Authority that I don’t know about. I haven’t heard. . No, I haven’t heard that Sedra wanted the disks.”

  He stopped at a light, tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Could be a last-minute thing. Don’t know why they wouldn’t have clued Kevin in. But Violet. Yeah, they might not have wanted her to know. Still, force is usually a last resort.”

  I snorted. “You people are always throwing magic around. What do you mean, force is a last resort?”

  “Us people? You’re a part of us too. And it is. A last resort. They used magic?”

  “The spells were. . collapsed. Tangled. Crushed.”

  Shame pressed his head back into the seat of the car, straight-arming the wheel. “I am so going to ask for a raise. This job blows balls. You want me to take us to Mum’s place instead? We can get some answers. Find out what the cool kids are doing.”

  We were just a couple blocks from the hospital.

  “No. I want to see Violet.” And if she was awake, I planned to ask her a few questions. Like if she had been making a move on the Authority, trying to strong-arm them into something and holding the disks as collateral. She was smart and she was strong. It would not surprise me to find out the business associates who were angry with her over releasing the data on the disks were actually members of the Authority, maybe even Sedra herself.

  And the way Kevin felt for Violet, the love he would not admit to, might just be enough to make him take her side. Might be enough to make him fight Sedra’s bodyguard for her.

  Love did strange things to people. Left them weak, made them stronger than ever before, or destroyed them.

  Shame drove into the parking structure and wound his way up the concrete ramps until he found an open space.

  “You coming in with me?” I asked.

  He lit the cigarette and sucked down the smoke. “I’m not letting you go in alone.”

  I stopped, my hand on the door handle. “Why?”

  “That’s the way it is.”

  “Talk, Flynn.” I wanted to know whom he was working for, or spying for. His mother? Jingo Jingo?

  “I owe Zay. For letting you down. For letting him down. I should have known. Seen it coming. Chase is such a bitch.” He opened the door and blew th
e smoke out in a thin stream.

  Oh.

  “Yeah, well, we all could have done something differently. But we didn’t. Now we go forward,” I said, “ ’ cause looking back won’t fix anything. Stay here-it won’t take me long to check on Violet.”

  “Wrong. Chase and Greyson are still loose. Still on the hunt. Still looking for you.”

  “They got Zay. They don’t want me.” But as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew it was not true. Greyson wanted my dad, the rest of him that was still inside me. What they did to Zay just got him out of the way so they could do what they really wanted.

  “Holy shit,” I said. “They attacked Zay because they want to get to me.”

  “I swear, you are denser than lead,” Shame muttered. “Of course they wanted him out of the way to get to you. And they wanted him out of the way because he is the guardian of the gates. The one and only magic user who can use light and dark magic to break the barrier between life and death. Knocking him out means that when the gates blow open-and I’d bet my left ball they’re going to-he won’t be able to close them.”

  “There are other Closers,” I said. “Terric, Victor, Nikolai, and Romero, more of the Seattle crew.”

  “None of them use magic like Zayvion Jones. No one does. Not even Victor. Or Terric.”

  An image, a flash of Chase and Greyson casting magic together, using magic in ways I had never seen, making it go against its own laws, rolled through my mind.

  “Soul Complements,” I whispered.

  “What about it?”

  “Chase and Greyson. That’s why they could use magic like that. That was the only thing that could hurt Zayvion.”

  “Part right. Soul Complements let them screw with the laws of magic. But they threw around light and dark magic. And they could do that because Greyson is a Necromorph-half alive, half dead. Whatever he did to Chase so she could do it too-his own Soul Complement. .” He blew out smoke again. “It makes me wonder how much that bloodsucker would burn in sunlight. He’s using a hell of a lot of dark magic.”

  “No. Greyson didn’t use magic. He had to use Tomi to cast Blood magic for him.”