Steel for 5 (Mags & Nats Book 3)

by Stephanie Fazio

  Smith wasn’t big on physical contact, but he didn’t seem to mind when it came from Ma.

  “You coming?” Yutika asked, when she realized I wasn’t following the others into the house.

  I shook my head. I’d spent the flight back from California working myself up to do something I’d been dreading.

  “I need to go see my family,” I said. I was relieved when my voice didn’t waver or break. “They need to know what’s going on.”

  “Want us to come with you?” Michael asked.

  I swallowed around the lump that had formed in my throat.

  “Thanks, but it won’t take long. I’ll be back soon.”

  Five years ago, my house had been the gathering place for all of mine and Brent’s friends. We had a pool and a kickass game room, and my parents were far cooler than any of my friends’ parents.

  But that was before. I didn’t bring other people home anymore.

  “Do you have your phone on you?” Yutika asked. “Just in case you change your mind?”

  I dug it out of my pocket and held it up for them to see.

  “Get some rest,” I told them. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  ✽✽✽

  I parked in my parents’ driveway and walked up to the front porch.

  It had been a while since I’d been here, and nostalgia hit me like a brick to the face. I caught sight of my reflection in the polycarbonate windows at the front of the house and almost smiled.

  It hadn’t taken long into our childhood for my parents to realize that glass windows didn’t mix with Combat Mag and Steel children. Even though Brent was ten years older, and thus should have been more mature, he took his duties as an annoying older brother to the extreme. Despite his superior age and size, we were well-matched. He was strong as a bull, but I was stronger—a fact I never grew out of reminding him. And Brent always retaliated by tickling me, which was my kryptonite no matter what skin I wore. Our wrestling matches that ensued were always lighthearted and came with the potential of bringing down the entire house.

  For a few years, my parents had kept the window repair company’s number on speed dial. Finally, they just replaced the glass with stronger and more durable polycarbonate.

  I climbed the front steps and knocked on the door. I didn’t need to knock, but it felt wrong to barge in when I hadn’t been here in months.

  Guilt fluttered in my stomach as I thought about how little I’d been around in the last couple of years.

  Coward, that inner voice I despised whispered.

  My mom’s face appeared in the window, and then the door was opening.

  “Bri!” My mom wrapped me in a tight hug. “What a wonderful surprise.”

  Her body was compact and petite like mine, but her hug was firm. She was a Level 5 Artist, and the proof of her magic was in the artwork covering our walls and her ink-stained fingers. There were so many paintings of our family that it was almost impossible to see the blue from the wall underneath.

  “Hi Mom,” I said against her shirt. I almost apologized for having been so absent, but I couldn’t make the words come. Instead, I stepped back and looked at her.

  My mom’s hair was thin and gray, and there were bags under her eyes. Before everything with Lilly, she had spent hours fussing with her beautiful hair and doing her makeup. Now, she just looked pale. Tired.

  “Look who it is,” my mom said, taking my hand and leading me into the house that felt familiar but also completely alien.

  It was the house I’d grown up in, and yet, nothing about it was the same anymore. Instead of my dad’s oldies music playing on the speakers and my mom’s homemade candles perfuming the entire house, it felt empty…even though four people lived here.

  Brent and Sarah had moved in with my parents after Lilly died. Sarah hadn’t been able to cope with the loss of their daughter, and Brent hadn’t wanted to leave her home alone while he went off to work.

  The inside of my family’s house felt sadder than all the cemeteries I’d recently visited.

  “Hey pumpkin face,” my dad said, using my childhood nickname as he came to hug me.

  My dad also looked like a shell of the man he’d once been. As a Level 7 Competitor, he’d always been in fantastic shape. We used to go for five-mile runs together every morning, and then he’d do it again at night. He’d also coached me in wrestling and Brent in baseball. Now, he had a receding hairline and beer belly.

  My heart felt like a heavy weight in my chest as I gave my dad a bright smile and initiated our “secret” handshake we’d started when I was in elementary school.

  “Hi, little sis,” Brent said, giving me a smile over the couch.

  I went into the living room where he was sitting on the couch. Even though it was only eight-thirty, Sarah was fast asleep with her head on his lap. In spite of all the noise the rest of us were making, she didn’t wake.

  I remembered when Brent and Sarah started dating. Since they were a decade older than me, I’d thought they were the coolest thing since sliced bread. Instead of getting annoyed with the little sister who was always around, Sarah had hung out with me. She’d done my makeup and curled my hair, and we’d had a tradition of going out to dinner every Friday night. We’d gossip about my brother and whichever boy I was crushing on at the time.

  Brent had complained that his girlfriend liked me more than him, and she would tease back that I was the more fun Hammond sibling.

  I hadn’t spent any time alone with Sarah since Lilly’s death. She’d shut down and shut out everyone in her life…except Brent.

  “How are you?” I asked my brother, before inwardly kicking myself.

  His only child was dead, and her death had been blamed on a fake disease. How did I think he was doing?

  “Hangin’ in there.” Brent gave me the same tired smile both my parents had offered. “Tell me about you, Ms. Security Chief.”

  My parents came into the room bearing steaming coffee mugs. They surrounded me, watching expectantly as I started in on a story about a Mag who had convinced himself he and Kaira were married. The lunatic had tried to rescue his “bride” from the evil villain (Graysen) who was holding her captive.

  My family shook with quiet laughter, conscious of Sarah asleep on Brent’s lap, as I recounted half a dozen ridiculous stories from the last few months. My heart wasn’t in it, but it was what my family needed. It was what they expected.

  I talked to fill the silence. The tears rolling down my mom’s face were from laughter, not from grief. It was all I could give them. And I hated myself for not being able to do more.

  “Oh, pumpkin face,” my dad chuckled. “You really are a barrel full of sunshine.”

  I bit my lip. Stop stalling, I told myself.

  Sometimes, I wished all of the hardness in my skin could somehow seep into my personality and toughen me up.

  “So, my friends and I have been investigating all the deaths that were blamed on DAMND,” I said.

  “No.” My mom held up her hand to stop me.

  My whole body tensed at her sharp tone. There was a wild look in her eyes.

  “No, what?” I asked.

  “Lilly died from one of those baby killers!”

  My dad stroked a hand down my mom’s back as her voice grew shrill, but she shrugged him off.

  “One of those couples had a baby that was in the same neonatal unit as Lilly. The doctor told us so. She said they didn’t realize the baby was one of them until it was too late.”

  “Come on,” my dad said, tugging on my mom’s arm. “It’s getting late.”

  My eyes stung. I hadn’t even reached the confession part…where I had to admit how little progress I’d made. I also needed to explain that the only reason I wasn’t sharing in Lilly’s awful fate was because of a spelling error on my birth certificate.

  My dad gave me a defeated look as he led my mom out of the room. I felt like I’d betrayed him. My one job when I came here was to help them forget…and I’d failed
at even that.

  “They’re not mad at you, you know,” Brent told me in a hollow voice once they’d gone. “It’s just been…hard.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” I whispered, unable to meet my brother’s gaze.

  “I’m glad you haven’t.”

  That made my head snap up.

  “I want you to move on from all of this and live your life.” Brent gave me a sad smile.

  “I’m going to find out what really happened,” I vowed. “Maybe the truth will help our family somehow—” I broke off, not wanting to sound callous by saying something like move on.

  The truth was, Lilly would always be in all of our hearts. But I couldn’t help but think that finding answers would let my family start to heal. Anything was better than continuing to live in this purgatory.

  “It’s been five years,” Brent said. “I’ve made my peace with Lilly’s death. It was awful at first, but I did my grieving. I feel…alright. It’s just—” He looked down at his wife. “I just want her back.”

  I hurriedly wiped away the tear sliding down my cheek before Brent could see. I refused to add my grief onto the terrible load my brother was already carrying.

  “How’s she doing?” I asked in a quiet voice, nodding at Sarah.

  Brent touched his wife’s cheek with his fingertips.

  “I…don’t know how to help her,” he whispered.

  My fearless older brother looked at me, his expression lost.

  I had no idea what to say. My throat felt too thick to manage speaking, even if I’d had the right words.

  “It’s her magic,” Brent continued. “It’s not just her pain she feels, but all of ours. She knows it’s hurting me that she’s so sad, and that makes everything worse for her. It’s like a fucking emotional snowball of doom, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  They were the most honest, raw words my brother had spoken to me in years.

  “Brent,” I whispered, crouching down next to him and resting my head on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sarah was a Level 4 Bleeding Heart, which meant her capacity for empathy was seemingly endless. Her magic had helped her become a world-renowned child psychiatrist, back when she’d still been working. She’d quit her job after Lilly’s death.

  At that moment, my phone began to ring. Grateful for the distraction—and then guilty for wanting to escape—I pulled my cell out of my pocket. It was Kaira.

  “I’m sorry,” I told my brother, showing him my screen so he’d know why I was abandoning him. “I have to take this.”

  Stepping into the dark dining room, I answered.

  “Hey,” I said, hoping Kaira wouldn’t notice my scratchy voice.

  “Charlotte and Sir Zachary found him,” Kaira said, her voice brimming with triumphant anticipation. “He’s been at the Magical Solitude Cemetery for at least half an hour. Charlotte says he’s digging up graves, so he should be there long enough for us to catch him.”

  I knew that cemetery. It was close enough to my parents’ house that I could walk—or run—there.

  “Gray’s just finishing up some stuff with the Super Mags,” Kaira continued. “We’ll be in the car in a couple of minutes. Want us to swing by and pick you up?”

  “I’ll meet you there,” I told her.

  “Okay,” Kaira said after a short pause. “But don’t go after him alone. This man’s too dangerous and too much of an unknown. Besides, I’ll be able to illusion us all so we have the benefit of surprise. Thankfully, Chameleon magic actually changes the body’s appearance while I just manage impressions, so his magic won’t interfere with mine.”

  “Don’t go in alone,” I parroted. “Got it.”

  Kaira sighed. She knew as well as I did that there was no way I was going to sit around waiting for backup. I had half a paper to recover and a score to settle.

  CHAPTER 14

  The crisp night air helped to wash away my grief. I didn’t turn into titanium as I ran, letting the cold air sear my lungs. I relished the burn of my calves as I sprinted to the cemetery.

  By the time I reached my destination, I was feeling like myself again.

  As far as cemeteries at night went, this one was at the low end of the creepy scale. All of the headstones were flat, so it looked more like an open field than a graveyard. A wide, paved road cut down the center of the grass. Bright lamps spaced throughout the cemetery made it look almost friendly.

  I jogged down the paved road, which led up a gently-sloping hill. When I crested the hill, I looked around.

  I didn’t catch that overwhelming sense of Cinnamon Guy’s magic the way I had back at Pruwist’s house, but it didn’t matter. The bright lamps illuminated a solitary figure in the middle of the cemetery. And unless there was another person digging up graves at night, then I’d found my prey.

  There was a motorcycle parked under a nearby lamp, and hell if I didn’t find that just a little bit sexy.

  Shaking my head to rid myself of the ridiculous thought, I started to run. I didn’t bother to hide the sound of my sneakers pounding the pavement. I wasn’t going to give this Chameleon the chance to blend into the grass and slip away.

  I blew on my fists and waited until my skin shone silver. Then, I pounced.

  Cinnamon Guy let out an affronted oof as we hit the ground. I’d expected him to disappear from view immediately, but he didn’t. I pinned him under me, allowing myself a moment of satisfaction that he was well and truly stuck.

  “Bri Hammond.” Cinnamon Guy quirked an eyebrow in a way that made it obvious he was making fun of me. “I’d say it was nice to see you again, but you know. It isn’t.”

  “Don’t worry,” I told him. “I just have a few little questions, and if you answer them right, I’ll let you go without messing up your pretty face…much.” I gave him an evil smile I’d learned from my cheerleading days.

  Most people assumed wrestling was the more vicious of my two sports. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “Aww, you think I’m pretty?” Cinnamon Guy batted his obnoxiously-long eyelashes at me.

  The lamps surrounding us reflected in his dark eyes and illuminated his tattoos. I noticed that he had a tiny diamond stud in his left earlobe.

  Cinnamon Guy’s hair, which was longer in the front than on the sides or back, just brushed his forehead. I couldn’t wait to beat that smirk off his full lips…right after he’d given me what I had come here for.

  “How did you get out of Pruwist’s house that night after we tied you up?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

  “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve.” Cinnamon Guy gave me a wouldn’t you like to know look.

  I tightened my hold on him.

  “Cariño,” he purred in an accent that probably brought less discerning women running into his arms. “If you wanted to get me under you, all you had to do was say so.”

  I didn’t validate that with a response. Instead, I glared down at his smug face.

  “Where’d you put it?” I demanded. “That paper you stole from me?”

  Cinnamon Guy smiled, showing off his even, white teeth. “Not on my person, sadly. Although you’re welcome to frisk me for it.”

  Ugh. “What is your basic problem?” I demanded.

  “You mean I have to pick just one?” he asked, clearly enjoying my growing frustration.

  I was so tempted to knock him out and then let Michael pick his brain apart when he came to. So very tempted.

  But it always took Michael longer to get information out of people I’d concussed. I didn’t want to risk scrambling the few brain cells this guy had before we got what we needed out of him.

  “What was on that paper?” I pressed, digging my knee into his ribs until he winced. “I know you looked at it, so don’t try to pretend like you didn’t.”

  “Sure, I looked at it.” Cinnamon Guy shrugged the one shoulder I didn’t have pinned to the grass. “There might have been some numbers or something. I wa
sn’t really paying attention.”

  I didn’t believe him as far as I could throw him. Actually, I could have thrown him a whole lot further than I believed him.

  Fine. If he wanted to play it that way, I’d just wait for Michael.

  “Why are you digging up graves?” I demanded, buying time until the rest of the Seven arrived.

  I didn’t say anything specifically about Agent S, since I didn’t know how much he knew, and I didn’t want to tip my hand.

  Before Cinnamon Guy even opened his mouth, I could tell something sarcastic was going to come out. Sure enough, he said, “Because this is how the cool kids spend their Friday nights.” He looked up at me. “And I’m definitely the cool kid.”

  This man wasn’t the first asshole I’d dealt with, but seriously, enough was enough. I raised my fist to put Cinnamon Guy into a temporary and painful sleep, when a sharp whistle had me freezing.

  “Is someone out there?” an unfamiliar male voice demanded.

  “Mierda.” Cinnamon Guy swore. All the amusement on his face vanished. “Mag Cop.”

  “What?” I looked around.

  The beam of a flashlight was just visible over the crest of the hill.

  “He sensed your magic.” Cinnamon Guy made a sound of disgust. “Idiota.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t your magic he sensed?” I shot back, defensive.

  “Can you feel my magic?” he challenged.

  I couldn’t. That swirling heat of power I’d felt from him before was gone.

  Well, shit.

  I looked around, but there was nowhere to hide. I could run, but the cop would immediately notice my silver skin in the lamplight. And without my titanium, there was no way I’d be able to drag Cinnamon Guy with me.

  It would take the cop about ten seconds to identify me in my Steel form. Five more, and I’d be on every major news network. The grave robbery would be pinned on me, and then Kaira and Graysen would have a thousand reporters hounding them.

  Double shit.

  “Lose your magic and get down,” Cinnamon Guy ordered.

  “He’ll still be able to sense me,” I argued.

  “Do it!”