by Sadie Moss
“Wait. Are you making me pay you to support me? What is this, a conspiracy?” Nick waves the remote control at us. “You two are awful. Saint is clearly the only person I can trust on this team.”
“That’s because you’re feeding him,” I point out.
Saint flips the bird, but I can’t tell if he’s doing it at Nick, at me, or at all three of us.
It’s… kind of surprising, but in a good way, how easy this is. When I first met all three men, there was some tension. Saint was—is—a convicted murderer, and he’s not exactly talkative. He projects a really rough around the edges sort of persona. Nick can be super annoying and rub people the wrong way, overwhelming them—me included. And I was both frustrated by my competitiveness with Logan and terrified of my instant connection with him.
None of the three guys really got along back when we first teamed up. Nick and Saint trusted each other, but they weren’t exactly close. Logan didn’t like either of them, and I’m not all that sure either of them liked Logan.
But now, all three of them are comfortable with each other. And I’m comfortable with them. This feels… natural. Like this is just how it should be, all four of us hanging out.
In fact, I want it to be like this all the time.
“Anyway, I ran a bunch of tests in my own personal lab,” Nick goes on. He clicks to a new slide showing us what looks like close-ups of samples under a microscope. “Okay, so, everyone look at the slide on the left. This is an isolation of the DNA from a non-Unpredictable magic user. Hello, me.” He bows.
“So modest,” Logan teases.
“This here on the right is from an Unpredictable magic user. Don’t worry, I got their permission. So, as you can see here, the magic is a part of the DNA. Both are activated by hormonal changes within the body, but…”
He clicks the remote, and another slide appears, this one showing a short animation. “With an Unpredictable person’s magic, we don’t know what the exact hormonal triggers are, so it’s just a crapshoot of your body finally coming up with the right combination to activate that part of the DNA. With me so far?”
“I suspect you’re dumbing this down for us,” I note, “but yes.”
“Of course I’m dumbing it down. You really want me to use words that are four syllables long?”
“Yes,” Logan and I say at once.
“Oh, right. I fucking forgot I’m working with two overachievers,” Nick mutters.
“Please keep it dumbed down,” Saint begs, sounding like he’d rather chew glass than have to listen to actual scientific theory.
“Okay, so!” Nick clicks again and a new slide appears. “Watch as the magic is activated in the DNA. Took me forever to figure out how to do this in an isolated scenario, but, ta da! Here we are.”
“Looks like what we learned in our biology class at Griffin,” I note.
“Yup, yeah, you would’ve learned it there. But this…” Nick clicks again, showing a new slide. “This is the magical shit I got off that magic user up in the mountains. It’s his DNA.”
Before, the strands of DNA had sections colored to show where the building blocks of the magical power were, but it looked pretty much like every single picture of DNA I’ve ever seen in my life. Now, however, this one… it looks like something’s pulsing through the DNA, instead of being a natural part of it.
“Whatever this magic is, it’s not an intrinsic part of the person’s genetic makeup,” Nick explains. “I would have to get them into a CT scanner to do a neural scan. But I think that whatever this magic is, it’s located in the brain and is sending signals to the DNA for the DNA to perform this new kind of magic.”
He starts speaking a little faster as he warms up to the topic, and I listen intently, determined not to miss a thing.
“I’ve compared it to every other magical type that we have on file. Non-Unpredictables are easy. The DNA signature is the same, so I just had the basics to compare, but then I got IUM’s database for the rest. I created a computer program that compared this magic to literally every other magical signature that IUM has on file of Unpredictables. I then contacted Griffin and the Circuit so that I could have access to their older files because, let’s face it, IUM’s only a few years old so they might not have everyone, and I compared this new magic to all of their samples too.”
Nick shakes his head, looking stumped. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There’s no precedent for this. I couldn’t find any comparison, any magic that acts this way. None of the predictable magics act this way, and neither does any kind of Unpredictable magic. Unpredictable magic is literally in our DNA waiting for a wakeup call. This is an entirely new kind of magic. We’ve discovered something that’s never been seen before.” He grins. “I’m naming it after myself.”
“Like hell you are,” Logan shoots back.
“Absolutely not,” I agree.
“What, we can’t call it Nick Junior?”
“No.” I’m putting my foot down on this.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Nick sighs. He ends the projection, and the screen starts to rise back up into the ceiling, the lights coming back on around us. “I’m naming it Ichtaka for right now.”
“You’re naming it what?”
“Ichtaka. It’s an Aztec word meaning ‘secret.’ We don’t have a name or term for this kind of magic, so until we do, I thought a nickname would help.”
“Nobody is going to call it that,” I point out.
“I like it,” Saint says.
I give him a deadpan look. He just shrugs.
“Would it help if you had another sample?” I ask Nick. “Because the whole reason that we’re getting to pursue this is we had another hit. There was a woman in Portland, not far from here, and she had the same magical signature. She was like the mage.”
“She died,” Logan adds, his voice solemn. “But CSI came in, and we have magical samples. You could test them and compare them to the mage.”
“Hell yes.” Nick grins, setting down the remote. “I’ll show you guys the lab.”
He leads us through the large penthouse to a massive laboratory. It looks about the same as what they have at IUM, except IUM’s is for an entire company. To have all of this equipment and space just for one person? It’s nuts.
That’s what having a few million dollars to spare will get you though.
Logan and I pull out the samples we got from CSI before we left the scene and hand them over while Nick snaps on some gloves. In this environment, there’s a cool professionalism to him that I haven’t seen before. He’s in his element now, focused and intent.
Nick puts on a pair of protective glasses and takes the samples, setting them up with the equipment. Logan peers over his shoulder, clearly excited to see the playboy genius in action. I grin. They’re adorable, their heads bent together, geeking out over science.
And that’s when I realize—Saint’s not in the room.
Didn’t he follow us down here? I look around, trying to find him.
I turn around in a circle, glancing behind me just in time to see that he’s slipping out a side door.
I glance back at the other two. Nick’s explaining his equipment to Logan, who looks fascinated. They’ll be fine if I leave them for a few minutes. Nick isn’t going to blow up his own lab. Well… I hope not, anyway.
We’ve got a lot of work to do, and we need to get down to it. But that can wait for a few minutes.
Right now, I think Saint needs me.
Chapter 10
Saint’s moving down a hallway through a large bedroom—it must be Nick’s—out onto a terrace. I noticed that this apartment complex has those when we pulled up, but I didn’t think any more about it after that.
There’s a beautiful view of the city from way up here.
“You like open spaces,” I note as I step outside after him. I want him to know that I’m behind him. After so long being stuck in a prison where he probably was never safe and had to watch out for people sneaking up on h
Saint turns, his nostrils flaring as he takes in my scent, and I realize that thanks to his super senses, there’s no way I could’ve snuck up on him. He could hear and smell me. Duh. I feel like an idiot.
But instead of commenting on that, he nods, the movement a little jerky. “Yeah.”
After being cooped up in a jail cell, I can see why he’d want to be outside.
He leans against the railing, staring out over the city. “Why’d you do it?”
“Do what?” He could be referring to a couple of things, honestly.
He turns and looks at me, bracing his hands on the railing. “Why’d you get me out?”
I could lie. Not that I’m very good at lying. But I could try it. I could say that it was because we need his help with this magic—although I’m not calling it whatever ridiculous nickname Nick’s come up with. And that would be true, to an extent. But it wouldn’t be the whole truth.
Saint’s gaze bores into me, making my skin heat like I’m under the gaze of a huge spotlight, and I swallow hard. He might not say much, but really, he doesn’t need to. His gaze, his very presence, is more than enough.
“You saved me,” I tell him honestly. “You saved my life, for one thing. But you also saved me from… from having to do something that would’ve haunted me. I can’t stop thinking about that mad magic user, and now about Mary, the other woman that Logan and I met the other day. I can’t stop wondering what I could’ve done to help them. Mary even asked me for help, and I tried, but…”
I trail off, swallowing hard before continuing.
“If it’s haunting me this much already, I can’t imagine what it would be like if I had actually… if I’d killed that mage.” I swallow, my throat feeling tight and dry. “I really can’t imagine it. I don’t want to imagine it. And I’ll never have to know what that feels like, because of you. Even though in the moment I was fighting for my life, I know it would be hard to live with the knowledge that I had taken someone else’s life. I can’t ever really repay you for that, but I can help you be free.”
Stepping a little closer to him, I meet his gray eyes.
“Prison was awful for you. I could see that. Anyone could see that. It was making you… hard. I could see the walls coming up. It was wearing you down. And you don’t deserve that.”
Saint pushes off from the balcony and walks toward me, his gaze boring into me, and I feel rooted to the spot.
“I wanted to save you from that,” I tell him. “As ridiculous as that sounds, I did. You were kind to me when we were on our mission. Soft and gentle. I wanted you to have the chance to be gentle again. I didn’t want you to lose that.”
He tilts his head at me. We’re only half a foot apart now, if that. My words come out softer, filling the space between us.
“And besides, we need you.” I can’t stop the next thing I say. “I need you.”
I could say that I’m just talking about the mission. But I’m a terrible liar.
As silence settles between us, Saint reaches for me and pulls me in—slowly, far more softly than I would’ve expected. My hands fall to his chest. He’s so warm and solid. Like a brick wall but soft.
“You need me,” he echoes, his voice low.
“I need you,” I repeat.
His nostrils flare, something intense flashing over his features. Then he leans down and kisses me.
This kiss doesn’t have the edge of desperation that our last one did. But then, the last one was when we didn’t know if we would ever see each other again. Saint was about to go back to jail, and he had no way of knowing that I would visit him there.
Now, though? Now he’s out and free, or relatively free, and there’s no one around to stop us or drag us apart.
My hands slide up his chest without thinking about it, gripping his broad shoulders as the kiss deepens. It’s like a slowly growing fire in the hearth, spreading steadily in passion, until I feel consumed by it. I press up against him completely, leeching the warmth and strength of his body, feeling all of that firmness against my softness.
Saint’s hands roam all over my back, his fingers splayed wide like he’s trying to touch as much of me as he can all at once, like he’s trying to memorize me. We part for the barest moment and I suck in a great gulp of air.
“I didn’t think I’d get to touch you again,” he murmurs, right against my lips, and then we’re kissing again.
I understand the feeling. Having him right in front of me but not being able to touch him was truly awful. Now I can slide my hands all over him, kiss him, hold him—
The fusion of our lips grows even more heated. Desperate. His tongue delves into my mouth, and his lips are firm against mine as his hands slide under my shirt.
Oh fuck. It feels so good.
Nick’s bed is right there, just a few feet away through the open door, and I know it’s rude of me to be thinking about it since it’s Nick’s bed, and we’d be using it without permission. But at the same time… damn it, it’s super tempting. The idea of pulling Saint in there and—
My phone goes off with an alert, and I immediately break away, instincts kicking in. That’s the alert from Ben; I made a special chime for it. Breathing hard, I yank my phone out of my pocket.
Saint stumbles back, looking a bit like he’s been hit in the head, eyes wide at the sudden change from wildly making out to no touch at all.
I grimace as I scan the text quickly. “Shit. There’s been another alert, another flare in the magic.”
“Rae?” I hear Logan calling from inside the apartment. “We got an alert!”
“We’re out here! Coming!” I yell back.
Saint wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand and nods, and I lead the way back inside. My body is still buzzing from the heat of our kiss, and I feel almost as dazed as Saint looks. But we both know this is important.
When we reach the living room, I see that Nick has taken off his lab gear and put his shoes on, and Logan’s typing out a reply to Ben.
“We gotta get a move on,” Logan says, glancing up as Saint and I enter.
His voice is tight, and I understand why. This isn’t late at night like the last alert was, it’s during the daytime. That means there’s a much bigger chance that someone will see something and start asking questions.
We have to get there quickly.
“You two good to go?” Logan adds, apparently completely unfazed by my flushed face and rumpled clothing. I can’t tell if my lips are swollen, but they feel tender. Saint’s hair is a mess from having my fingers in it, and his cheeks are a little flushed.
But Logan’s just taking it in stride. Warmth fills my chest despite the worry coursing through me. He was truly serious when he said that he doesn’t mind sharing me, if that’s what I want.
Nick holds up the keys to what is undoubtedly a fancy car. “I’ll drive.”
We all head down to the garage below the building, following Nick’s lead. As we go, I try to focus and get my head in the game, preparing myself mentally for whatever we might find at the site of the newest magic ping.
This whole situation is far from ideal, but at least I’m getting to do this with the people I want to be with. Logan and Saint seem unfazed and steady, and Nick actually looks excited, his natural curiosity and zest for adventure rising to the surface.
I don’t think I could ask for a better team to tackle this problem.
And that’s something, at least.
Chapter 11
We all pile quickly into his car, and Nick takes off.
He drives a bit like a maniac, but despite my white-knuckled grip on the side door—and on Logan, who puts his hand on my thigh to steady me—I don’t mind. I want us to get to the location of the magic flare as quickly as possible. If we’re fast enough, maybe… I don’t know. Maybe we can save the person this time.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Nick curses under his breath as he slides into a parking space, and we all turn our heads to take in the scene.
We’re in the middle of a park. It’s in a supernatural neighborhood, thank fuck, but it’s still a park, with families all around, children all around. Shit. This is going to be difficult.
I get out of the car with the men following right behind me, and we head for the source of the magical signature.
“Ichtaka’s probably firing off the charts,” Nick says, checking one of his devices.
“We are not calling it that. That’s a ridiculous name.”
“It’s a great name.”
I roll my eyes, and that’s when I see it—or rather, see him.
There’s a man walking through the park, his movements jerky, and my heart lurches right up into my throat. I recognize those kinds of movements by now, after dealing with the mage in the mountains and then Mary.
Taking a deep breath, I hurry over and hold out my IUM badge. “Sir? Excuse me, sir?”
I can hear Logan’s and Nick’s pounding footsteps behind me, but I don’t hear Saint. Then I catch a flash out of the corner of my eye and realize that he’s moving around, flanking the guy like we tried to do with the crazed magic user who attacked us in the mountains.
The man looks up at me. For a moment, his mouth opens as if in shock, but then it contorts into a twisted grimace.
“Sir, can you tell me your name?” I try, putting my hands up to show that I’m not a threat. “I’m Raelyn Parker, and I work with the Institute of Unpredictable Magic. I think you need help. Will you let me help you?”
I know I probably shouldn’t give out my first name, but I want to try to make him see that I’m an ally. He probably feels scared right now, if he’s going through anything like what Mary went through. So I need to be friendly. To make him see me as someone who cares about him, someone he can be friends with.
“You can’t help me,” he spits, his face twisting like it’s got a weird tic in it. “You’re—you’re—you’re—”
He can’t seem to get the words out, as if his brain is short-circuiting like a computer with faulty wiring.
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