Risk (A Mageri World Novel)

by Dannika Dark

  “Yes, and you are the best.”

  Ego inflated.

  “What’s wrong with him? Clearly you must be dealing with a wanker, and I don’t like wasting my time on Mageri rejects. Maybe it’s time you cut your losses and send him off to the Island of Misfit Toys.”

  Her red nails looked like talons as she tapped them against the desk. “Let’s go to my training room and you can decide for yourself.”

  He sighed dramatically and followed her lead.

  Simon had learned a few things in his time, one of them being not to take jobs that would bleed his soul dry and ruin his reputation should he fail. Every so often, a Mage chose his or her progeny unwisely. The Mageri usually did the pairing, but sometimes a Mage selected someone on his own and presented them to the Mageri for approval. Because only a rare few were Creators, the Mageri rarely refused the request. Councilmen had influence and could do whatever they bloody well pleased.

  Occasionally, new Learners defected in hopes of returning to their human lives. But everyone knew there was no going back. A few were incapable of overcoming their fears and learning weaponry, while others became so obsessed with violence that they had to be destroyed like a rabid dog. It wasn’t common, but Mage law decreed it was the humane thing to do after all avenues had been exhausted to rehabilitate these willful Learners from their baneful ways. In most cases, their inability to adjust was benign, but that meant living under the care of their Creator for life—never to be granted independence.

  If Hannah was requesting Simon’s services, then that meant he was her last resort. Housing an incompetent Learner would be an embarrassing proposition for a Councilman. The only problem was that Simon didn’t like being the final option. It meant his odds for failure were greater, and he had a reputation to uphold. Some Learners were simply beyond help.

  She led him down a flight of stairs to the cellar.

  “Is this where you keep the bodies?” he asked, his voice dark.

  Ignoring him, Hannah paused in front of a heavy door and turned the knob.

  The first thing Simon heard was a feral scream, and it made him wonder how close to the truth his question was. Hannah moved inside and stepped to the right, allowing Simon to have a look.

  Her facilities were basic. The cement floor made the room dreary and depressing. The left wall had a few circular cuts of wood that served as targets for knife throwing, but the room didn’t have any training equipment or mats. It looked like Hannah focused more on developing the gifts of her progeny with a dash of daggers on the side.

  He swung his eyes to the right, and his jaw slackened. “That’s a woman.”

  Hannah tilted her head to the side. “You’re quite perceptive. What gave it away, her supple breasts?”

  “I don’t train women,” he whispered.

  Hannah raised her voice. “No need to whisper, Mr. Hunt. She’s deaf.”

  Simon drew in a sharp intake of breath and looked at the woman again. He recognized her. Years ago, Novis had thrown an extravagant party, one that ended with an explosion when rebels attacked the Mageri. The young woman standing just across the room was the ginger with whom he’d played a game of chess. The fates had impeccable timing, as she was about to put him in check once again.

  “Since when do you take on charity cases?” he asked, his eyes still on the woman who stood listlessly in the center of the room.

  “For your information, Mr. Hunt, I would never choose a defective human to live an immortal life. It’s no secret that my power as a Creator has always been unreliable. Ninety percent of my progeny will die during the exchange or within the first five years, so I choose candidates who are strong in mind, spirit, and body. I selected her five years ago but didn’t change her over until I was certain she would survive the first spark. The quality of my progeny speaks for itself, but this was one of the unfortunates injured during Nero’s attack. I cannot begin to express how discouraging it’s been to put all my effort into this Learner, only to have a random act of violence ruin everything.”

  “Let’s not call something random when we both know it wasn’t. Besides, with immortality comes risk.”

  Hannah sighed. “Her eardrums ruptured, and I think it’s self-explanatory what happened, given the use of liquid fire during the attack. Her injuries sealed and are irreversible. It’s a shame.” Hannah glanced over her shoulder at the svelte young woman. “She was one of my best. An intelligent creature with an ambitious warrior’s heart, but her impairment has had a dramatic impact on her ability to fight. I don’t know if it’s all in her head or if it’s because she can no longer hear her opponent’s moves. Perhaps she cannot be helped, but that’s what you’re here to determine. If her spirit weakens, she might not survive. Who is to say my power will not turn on her?” Hannah tucked her hands in the pockets of her white suit jacket. “Tell me, can you teach a deaf woman?”

  It seemed bizarre talking about the woman as if she weren’t in the room, so he stepped to the right until Hannah blocked his view of the Learner. He rubbed his jaw and considered the payment. “The first week is ten grand. It goes up after that.”

  She smiled gleefully. “Excellent. Without your help, I’m afraid the only humane thing to do would be to put her down.”

  That statement made him bristle, mostly because she said it as if trying to make him feel responsible for the woman’s life. Being so young and without skills would make her nothing more than a pet, following her Creator about the house, but it wasn’t the sort of thing that warranted euthanasia. Someone in her condition couldn’t just be let loose in the world—there was too great a risk for her to align with rebel groups. Although in all likelihood, juicers would discover her and put her up for sale on the black market.

  He peered around Hannah and caught the woman staring at him, unblinking. “What’s her name?”

  “It hardly matters. It’s not as if she’ll hear you call her by it.”

  Simon stepped forward. “Tell me her bloody name or I walk.”

  “Come by this evening and we’ll do the formal introductions. I’m having a gathering, and there will be an abundance of available women, should you be interested,” Hannah said, throwing out the shiny bait.

  Hannah preyed upon his weakness for Mage women and had probably devised the event as a backup plan in order to sweeten the pot. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had negotiated deals with some of the most unattainable women in Cognito to service him all night long, performing every imaginable sexual act in order to secure his cooperation. A harem pouring orgasms all over him like gravy until he was so sated that he couldn’t say no. What kind of man did she take him for?

  “What time is the party?”

  Chapter 3

  Ella glared at the dress that was lying on her bed. Before her shower, she’d laid out a burgundy one, but Hannah had replaced it with an unadorned white dress that no one would be caught dead in at one of Hannah’s gatherings. The mansion had been a flurry of activity that day—servants setting out bouquets of calla lilies, buffing the marble floors to a high shine, and arranging chairs out on the back lawn. Even without the invitation slipped under her door, she would have easily guessed what her Creator was planning.

  Ella reluctantly put on the dress, the lightweight fabric swinging at her ankles, the sleeves long, a tie around the waist and a pearl button to fasten the neck in the back. Hannah never used to dress her so plainly for social gatherings. Not that Ella had been invited to a party in a long time.

  When she’d first moved in five years ago, Hannah had given her elegant outfits and accessories. Extravagant things didn’t matter to Ella, but having someone lavish her with so much attention had made her feel important. Everyone looked at her differently since she was one of Hannah’s progeny. They saw Ella as a woman who was going places—someone with a bright future. Hannah would boast that Ella was a precious gem because of her loyalty and ability to take direction. In return, Ella studied, listened, learned how to behave in social situatio
ns around other Breeds, and didn’t flinch if she had to take a man down.

  Hannah had taught her well.

  All of that had crumbled away after the fateful night of the bombing. Ella had endured a painful recovery, the Relic unable to offer her any relief from the relentless throbbing in her head. No amount of healing light would alleviate the pain of an injury sealed with liquid fire. It took weeks before the tinnitus disappeared, and after it did, she’d never heard another sound. She often wondered what had happened to the other victims and if the Council had ever captured the man responsible for orchestrating the attack. Ella hadn’t just been left in silence; she’d been left in the dark.

  She glanced at the note someone had slipped under her door. It was a formal request for her to attend the party that evening. English was Hannah’s second language… or possibly eighth. While she spoke it fluently, Ella suspected she had never learned to write in English. The invitation for the party had likely been written by one of the staff, as the handwriting varied from other missives she’d gotten. Occasionally she would receive a note that instructed her to remain in her room, making her feel like Rapunzel locked away in a tower.

  What she hadn’t received was a note about their unexpected visitor that morning. When the tall man entered the training room, Ella had frozen. She almost didn’t recognize him because of his tattered clothes. A few years ago at a party, he’d challenged her to a game of chess after she’d beaten everyone who’d dared to sit on the other side of the board. Despite his flirtatious behavior, he had a clever mind, and she hadn’t met anyone quite like him before. No man had ever beaten her in chess, and he kept her on her toes during the entire game.

  She crossed her bedroom, remembering when he asked her why she kept her hair so tightly wound in a braid and if she was as much of a tightass as her Creator. Ella had laughed inside but squelched the urge to show her amusement. Hannah had eyes and ears all over, and that kind of disloyalty would have embarrassed her.

  There was a brief moment when Ella had placed her finger on her queen while debating her next move and noticed the Mage staring at her. His soft eyes reminded her of melted caramel, and he had such a magnetic personality. Brown tousled hair messily covered his ears, and his brows had a wicked slant. She remembered the nervous flutter in her stomach when he grinned at her, flashing a dimple on his left cheek. Every time he smiled, it broke her concentration. It wasn’t just mindless flirtation; he was dissecting her expression and calculating his strategy.

  In fact, he made her so flustered that she excused herself to powder her nose. As Ella crossed the house, an explosion changed her life.

  Ruined her life.

  After her recovery, she became useless—unable to take direction, treated as an invalid. She tried to read lips, but people spoke too quickly or turned away. How could she not notice when Hannah quit looking her in the eye? Ella was no longer the pride and joy of her Creator but an embarrassment.

  Ella looked down at her dowdy dress and flats. She thought about when she’d seen Hannah rushing down the hall in a champagne-colored gown of the most delicate silk, signaling an important evening.

  Ella peered through the window of her second-story bedroom and watched the cars circle around front, their headlights illuminating the trimmed hedges below as the valets parked the cars.

  She missed sounds. Engines revving. Heels clicking on the concrete. Crickets chirping. The wind rustling the leaves in the cypress trees. Coughing. Kissing. Cracking knuckles. The sound of burning paper from the end of a cigarette. Whistling. Laughter. Even silence. In the hearing world, you ignored the subtle sounds that filled a quiet room, such as the gentle hum of an air conditioner, a drippy faucet, or a plane flying in the distance. God, how she had taken those things for granted.

  After one last check in the mirror, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and made her descent to the first floor. She paused halfway down the curved staircase, wistfully remembering the days when Hannah would be waiting at the bottom to present her progeny to important guests.

  But Hannah was nowhere to be seen.

  Disheartened, Ella made her way down, smiling and nodding as if she understood what the guests were saying to her. She was drifting through the crowd and had passed familiar faces when a few sluts caught her attention. They weren’t the sort of girls Hannah usually extended invitations to, and Ella recognized a couple with indecent reputations. One had wavy blond hair cascading over her bare shoulders, her wide neckline showing off her large breasts. The woman next to her had lips like a blowfish. As Ella made her way toward the banquet room, she noticed other groups of women, each more desirable than the last.

  Ella lifted a champagne flute and downed it in a single swallow. A tray of gourmet caramels caught her eye, so she loaded up her plate. They were precisely the kind of sticky appetizer that would save her from having to speak should someone get the idea of cornering her and starting up a conversation.

  While only deaf, Ella never spoke. She was too self-conscious to imagine how stupid or loud she might sound, so she never made a peep. Only downstairs in the training room behind the soundproof door did she release all her pent-up anger and frustration.

  Ella made a beeline for the back door with her plate in hand. There were numerous empty tables, so she weaved around the busy ones to sit near the back. Votive candles illuminated the white linen tablecloths, the cool breeze causing the flames to shiver. She gazed dolefully at the live band to her right, which performed a symphony of silence on stringed instruments. Ella briefly closed her eyes and imagined what the chatter must sound like—the laughter and glasses clinking together as a classical song played in the background.

  A couple at a nearby table flirted with each other, flashing smiles and touching hands. While their conversation probably had nothing to do with how they felt about each other, it was obvious by their body language. Ella wondered what that level of intimacy was like. Not sex, because she wasn’t a virgin, but trusting someone completely.

  After the accident, she’d foolishly slept with a Mage at a party after she’d bumped into him while pacing the dark halls upstairs. The sex was unplanned and unremarkable. But then he pinned her wrists and tried to force her to bind with him, and Ella refused to share sexual energy with anyone. The idea frightened her because of how powerful their energy was, and sharing her light seemed more intimate than sex itself. She fought him until he let go, his mouth moving angrily after she socked him in the jaw. That was the last time she saw him.

  Until tonight.

  Her eyes flew open when the table vibrated. There he was—James. She knew his first name because before the accident, she was introduced to him at a large dinner party. He’d smiled at her, and that was the extent of their interaction. Hannah had taught her never to speak unless spoken to, and Learners did as they were told. Before the main course had arrived, Ella excused herself from the table because of an upset stomach.

  After the accident that left her deaf, she just wanted to feel normal again. But that one-night stand had made everything so much worse.

  James sat across the table from her, the candlelight flickering against his stark features and straight nose. He looked older than her, but his maturity level was that of a teenager. By the manner in which he narrowed his eyes to slivers, she knew his words were unkind. Especially the way he ended each short sentence with a tight grin.

  She showed him her middle finger and continued eating her caramels as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Ella kept her disability concealed, and the last person she wanted to find out about it was James. It didn’t take a genius to figure out her Creator hadn’t disclosed the shameful secret; Ella didn’t see pity in anyone’s eyes when they spoke to her—only confusion or irritation when she didn’t reply. To get around that, Ella had adopted an aloof personality and avoided social interactions.

  James rapped his knuckles on the table, and she slid her eyes past him and smiled, pretending to share an inside joke with anoth
er guest. He glanced over his shoulder, and she quickly looked away, half suppressing her grin. Nothing was funny, but it was the kind of thing that would irk a man enough to leave the table.

  Success.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when he stalked off. As the crowd parted to let him through, Ella spotted the man with the candy-colored eyes who put a knot in her stomach. She nibbled on another caramel and studied the way he leaned against the doorjamb, flirting with a blonde in a black sparkly dress. He must have liked blondes, because they surrounded him. One stood beside him and casually stroked her hand down his back as if petting a wild animal. These women didn’t care what he was saying; Ella could tell that much.

  When her eyes skated inside the house and to the right, she noticed Hannah peering through the glass, a smug look of satisfaction crossing her expression before she turned away.

  Now it all made sense. Hannah had invited them to seduce this man. But who was he, and for what gain? Ella might have been sitting on the outside looking in, but she had a gut feeling that she was a part of it.

  To avoid ending up in the sharp clutches of the Ice Queen, Simon had extended the party invitation to Silver and Logan. He needed a distraction so he wouldn’t look too eager with all the eye candy parading about. God forbid if Hannah got the impression that he’d accepted her proposition to train her incompetent Learner when he hadn’t yet made up his mind.

  Hannah needed to sweat a little; the moisture might do her some good.

  Simon lingered in the foyer, avoiding the lovely strumpets who were tempting him by caressing their phallic champagne flutes. He was curious to see who else Hannah had invited, so he moved aside the platters on a mahogany buffet table and took a seat facing the front door. The partygoers were less than impressed with his leather trousers, sleeveless shirt, studded collar, and fingerless gloves. The most splendid part about it was that Hannah was powerless to raise a single complaint.