“He’s making MRP,” Graysen said in disbelief.
We all gaped at the evidence in Cinnamon Guy’s bathtub.
We knew the formula for the Magical Reduction Potion from our investigation into Subject 6, but we couldn’t have done anything with it even if we’d wanted to. The formula was so complicated, and the ingredients so volatile, that the tiniest error could result in a brew toxic enough to take down an entire city block.
At least, that was what Smith had said after he’d researched the formula. He had a tendency to be a little alarmist, so it was possible only this apartment building would be destroyed by MRP gone wrong. Regardless, it wasn’t the kind of potion an average chemistry enthusiast would attempt.
“Smith, who is this guy?” Kaira demanded. “I mean, aside from being the magic ripper we’ve been searching for.”
“Assuming he didn’t make it up for his laptop username,” Smith replied, his attention still focused on the computer, “his name is Diego Agramonte.”
Diego Agramonte. The name certainly didn’t ring any bells.
“Can I still call him Sexy Cinnamon Man?” Yutika asked.
“Yutika,” Michael said in a soft voice.
“What?” she turned a mischievous smile on him. “I don’t need to call you Sexy Michael, since it would be totally redundant. You’re the embodiment of sexiness.”
Blushing, Michael just shook his head.
Smith shot Yutika an irritated look. “Whatever else Diego has done on this computer, he wiped it well enough that I can’t recover anything.”
Smith’s expression was one of grudging respect.
“There’s no record of anyone by that name in the Magical Marking Office’s records,” Smith continued. “There was a Rosa Agramonte born in Mexico City in 2017, though. She was a Level 8 Alchemist. I can’t find anything else about her.”
“UnMarked?” Graysen asked.
Smith nodded. “Had to be. Her only existing documentation is her birth certificate.”
“Birth certificates are difficult to destroy,” Kaira said, sliding a guilty look at Graysen.
“Well, I guess we know who taught Sexy Cinnamon Man how to play with chemicals,” A.J. observed.
“I think we can call him Diego now,” I pointed out. “You know, for simplicity’s sake.”
We all turned as Sir Zachary let out a plaintive whine. He scratched at the wall next to the dresser.
I exchanged a look with my friends before going over to investigate. That’s when I noticed the grooves on the floor. It looked like the dresser had been repetitively dragged back and forth. I gave the piece of furniture a little shove, pushing it away from the wall.
“Holy shit.”
“What?” six voices demanded at once.
Wordlessly, I stepped aside so the others could see.
“Holy shit,” Smith echoed.
More curses and exclamations followed as my friends took in the scene.
Cinnamon Guy—Diego—had cut a hole in the wall. Inside the narrow space were rows and rows of stacked Agent S vials.
The green liquid gleamed luminescent in the dark. The liquid churned restlessly, straining against its glass confinement toward me.
Smith pulled his poison scanner out of his hoodie pocket and flipped it on.
Instantly, the room filled with the scanner’s screeching cry. The red light flashed maniacally. My ears were ringing by the time Smith finally switched it off.
“Yeah, that’s definitely Agent S,” Smith confirmed.
“Time to call the police?” Yutika asked.
“No,” I said quickly. “We have to find out what was on the other half of Pruwist’s paper.”
If the police got their hands on Diego first, I’d never find out what he knew.
“We could wait for him to come back here,” Michael suggested. “I’ll Whisper to him, and then we can hand him over to the police.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Graysen nodded.
“We could be waiting a while,” A.J. said. He held up a piece of cardstock he’d fished out of the garbage. It was black and orange with gold lettering on it.
It was a Halloween party announcement…for tonight.
“Let me see that,” Graysen said, reaching for the invitation.
“What’s the matter?” Kaira asked.
“I have a bad feeling I need to confirm.” Graysen pulled out his phone and dialed.
We all waited.
“Hey, Emory,” Graysen said when the call connected. “Do you know anything about a party at a nightclub called Liquid Magic tonight?”
He listened for a few seconds.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Graysen’s brow furrowed as he shot us a worried look. “Tell your people to get out of there. We’re heading over now, but the magic ripper may already be there.”
“Gray, what?” Kaira asked, as soon as he disconnected the call.
“A bunch of the Super Mags are at that party,” Graysen said. “I remembered them talking about it earlier.”
“Shit,” Kaira said. “We have to get them out of there.”
On most nights, Liquid Magic was a slightly raunchy dance club. On the holidays, though, the place took a more family-friendly approach. I happened to know that they threw the best Halloween and New Year’s Eve parties in the city.
“Oh goody!” A.J. clapped his hands. “Please tell me it’s a costume party.” He looked back at the announcement and squealed. “It is!”
“Hold your horses, cowboy,” I told him. “What are we going to do about this?” I gestured to the Agent S stockpile.
If the vials had been filled with anything else, I’d just smash them. But Agent S would burn right through the floor and probably eat through the whole building.
“I’ll take care of it,” A.J. said. He flicked his hand, and the vials filed out of their hiding place.
The window opened, seemingly on its own, and the vials zoomed out and up into the night air.
“While you deal with that,” Yutika said, flipping open her sketchbook, “let’s talk Halloween costumes.”
CHAPTER 16
Kaira had dared suggest simply illusioning all of us, and Smith had made the even more daring suggestion of going sans costumes altogether. But when it came right down to it, no one was willing to take on A.J. and Yutika.
“A party’s a party,” A.J. said, like he was spouting law or scripture. “The rules of engagement must be obeyed, which means we cannot cut corners.”
So, while Michael drove to the dance club, the rest of us changed into our costumes.
Normally, I enjoyed parties as much as anyone. Well, maybe not as much as A.J. At the moment, though, I was too preoccupied with what we’d learned about Diego.
He was making the Magical Reduction Potion and injecting it into the Super Mags.
“Can we open our eyes yet?” Smith grumbled.
“Ready,” Yutika, Kaira, and I said.
I was a little out of breath from squeezing into the outfit Yutika had made me. It was a mere inch or two away from sluttyville, but it was Halloween. Certain liberties were allowed.
“Looking good, Girlfriend,” A.J. told me.
“Back atcha,” I replied, grinning at our angel and devil costumes.
I was the devil. Yutika had even made me a headband with horns and four-inch red thigh-high boots. The red halter top dress was sparkly. I kind of loved it.
A.J. had a furry halo perched on his head and a white cape with attached wings. His black hair was full of glitter.
Kaira wore a sexy cop uniform. She claimed it was subtle commentary on the Alliance’s legal system, but I thought the real reason had more to do with the way Graysen was practically drooling at the sight of her. He kept playing with the handcuffs on her belt and giving her fuck me eyes. The rest of us pretended not to notice.
Graysen was dressed up as the top Mag soccer player in the world—an Argentinian whose name I could never remember. Yutika went as a hamburger,
because in her words, she liked to watch the world burn. A.J. seemed ready to blow a gasket at the sight of her.
“It’s definitely a black bean patty,” I consoled A.J., patting the relevant part of Yutika’s costume. “Non-GMO and everything.”
No amount of cajoling, pleading, and threatening had gotten Smith to agree to a costume. He would be staying in the van to monitor his tech and was generally opposed to fun.
And Michael, looking utterly miserable, had a French fries costume waiting for him as soon as he got out of the driver’s seat.
Kaira illusioned herself and Graysen as soon as we rolled up to the club, but the rest of us were costumed up enough that no one was going to recognize us. Besides, Liquid Magic wasn’t exactly the kind of place where reporters hung out.
“Try not to get into too much trouble,” Smith said as the rest of us piled out. He sat back in his seat and stared at his computers.
“We never get into trouble,” Yutika quipped as she squeezed her hamburger patty midsection out of the van.
It was close to 2:00AM, but there was still a line wrapped around the block. We went right to the front.
“Hey, Hank,” I called to the scowling bouncer who was guarding the door.
“Bri, baby!” The giant man’s face cracked into a wide smile. “You little devil, you.”
Laughing, I reached over to give him a hug.
For a whole year before I’d joined Kaira and the others, I couldn’t do anything that required a tracker and file…which was pretty much everything. Since Liquid Magic was less scrupulous about documentation, they’d given me a part-time job as a bouncer. The money had been nice, but the best part had been getting to talk to someone besides my family for a few nights a week.
“Come on in, Bri and friends.” Hank swept his hand at the door. The people waiting impatiently behind the velvet rope let out an enraged cry.
Inside, the club was a madhouse.
“Now, this is what I’m talkin’ about!” A.J. yelled over the pumping music.
“You’re not in there to party,” Smith said across our earpieces.
“Our priority is to find Diego and the Super Mags,” Kaira said. “Let’s split up.”
“Kai and I will take the third floor,” Graysen said.
“I’ll do the rooftop bar with Yutika,” Michael said.
“There are good camera angles on the second floor,” Smith said. “Leave that to me.”
“I guess that means you and me are down here, Devil Lady,” A.J. said into his mike.
“Cool. I’ll take the bar,” I replied. “You start in the back.”
My friends’ chatter filled my earpiece as I moved deeper into the club. The combination of strobe lights and costumes made it next to impossible to see people’s faces until I was on top of them.
The smells of perfume, sweat, and alcohol were so strong it gave me a headache. I was glad I’d convinced A.J. to leave Sir Zachary in the van instead of bringing him in.
“How are we supposed to find anyone in this mess?” Graysen complained. Even though his voice was in my ear, I could barely hear him.
“We dance!” came A.J.’s immediate reply.
Shaking my head, I pushed past a group of women dressed as vampires. I reached the bar, which was even more crowded than the dance floor. I leaned over the counter to try and get the bartender’s attention, since everyone knew that was the best person to get intel from.
I yelped in surprise when cold liquid splashed down the front of my dress.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” The man standing beside me glared at his empty glass, like it was the drink’s fault it had spilled all over me. He grabbed a handful of cocktail napkins and went to dab at the wet spot.
“I got it,” I told him, taking the napkins from his hand and wiping up the spill myself.
I reeked of tequila. Awesome.
“Can I buy you a drink?” the man asked, ducking his head close to mine so I’d be able to hear him over the music.
“I think you already did.” I gestured to my wet costume.
“Ah shit, you’re right.” The man put his glass down on the bar and gave me an apologetic smile. “Can I make it up to you on the dance floor?”
“Maybe later,” I told him distractedly as I tried to wave over the bartender again.
“Just one dance?” the guy pleaded, clearly having missed my not-so-subtle dismissal. He reached for my hand.
“I said no.”
I didn’t want to turn titanium and blow my cover, but that wouldn’t stop me from knocking out a few teeth if this guy didn’t get lost.
Normally I was more polite, but I was on a mission.
“Have you guys found anything?” I asked into my mike.
No response.
I could still hear my friends’ voices in my earpiece, but my mike wasn’t working. I looked down at the wet spot on my cleavage, which included my mike.
Damnit.
I was contemplating whether it was worth trying to find Yutika and have her make me a new one, when the man reached for my hand again.
I was just about to introduce his face to my knuckles when an intense wave of magic surrounded me. At the same moment, a male body pressed against my back. I caught the faintest hint of cinnamon as his lips grazed the side of my neck. Goosebumps flitted down my bare arms.
“Sorry I’m late, cariño,” Diego said, loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear. He draped an arm over my shoulders and gave the drink-spiller a cold look.
Diego was shorter than the other man by half a foot, but he gave off serious don’t test me vibes. I had no doubt which of them would come out on top in a fight. Maybe it was the tattoos.
“You’re not hitting on my girl, are you?” Diego asked the other man.
He didn’t shout, and yet, his voice carried above the music.
“I, uh, was just going,” my unwanted solicitor said, making a graceless exit as he scampered back into the crush of people.
“Twice in one night, Bri Hammond?” Diego quirked an eyebrow at me. “I’m beginning to think you can’t get enough of me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I replied, removing his arm from my shoulders. “And I didn’t need a rescue. I hope you weren’t expecting a thanks.”
“I’d settle for another kiss,” he replied.
“Fat chance,” I said, ignoring the reminder of how good his lips had felt on mine. “But since I have you here, you’re going to give me some answers.”
“Gladly,” Diego replied smoothly. “But you’ll have to earn them.”
“I’ll earn them,” I said through gritted teeth, “by agreeing not to beat you into a bloody pulp.”
“You could.” The cocky bastard grinned and leaned closer. “But it’ll be so much more fun to do it my way.”
Without waiting for a response, he took my hand and pulled me toward the dance floor.
After a short internal debate, I decided to play his game. I could always get my answers and then beat him up. At the end of the night, the ordering didn’t matter to me.
Besides, as long as he was with me, he wasn’t shooting any Super Mags up with MRP. If that was in fact why he’d come here. In spite of all the evidence, I still didn’t want to believe he was our magic ripper.
“I’m surprised to see you out partying,” Diego said, leading me to a less crowded part of the dance floor. “Don’t you have more important things to do?”
“I could ask you the same, Diego Agramonte,” I shot back.
Surprise flashed across his face. I smiled to myself in satisfaction. So that was his real name. I filed that detail away to share with Smith later, since my mike was on the fritz. I could still hear my friends, I just couldn’t talk to them.
“Where did you hear that name?” Diego asked. His voice was nonchalant, but there was an intense look in his eyes.
“From my Techie,” I replied. “Now, it’s your turn to answer questions.”
“Nuh-uh, cariño.” He
wrapped his hand around mine. “You promised me a dance.”
I’d done no such thing. Before I could tell him so, Diego spun me around and pulled me into the cradle of his arms.
All at once, there was nothing between us. The heat of his body and magic surrounded me until it was an effort just to breathe.
“She can fight,” Diego said against my ear. “But can she dance?”
The tequila fumes must have gotten to me, because I didn’t immediately put him in a chokehold and drag him to wherever Michael was.
I had no idea what it said about me that the first man to ever make my heart race was brewing MRP in his apartment and injecting it into Super Mags.
Nothing good.
“Okay, we’re dancing,” I said. “Tell me what was on that piece of paper you stole from me.” And then, because I was feeling feisty, I added, “Cariño.”
I rolled my R like a native.
Diego’s eyebrows shot up. “Hablas español.”
Yeah, for four years in high school with a narcoleptic teacher who did more snoring than teaching. I knew some of the basics and pretty much all of the curses. My friends and I had downloaded and memorized a list of Spanish swear words while we were supposed to be reading Don Quixote in Spanish. We were so cool.
“Suficiente.” I shrugged.
Diego leaned closer so his lips touched my ear. “Tell me something dirty. In Spanish.”
From the way his grip on my waist tightened, I knew he expected me to pull away. I leaned closer. I licked my lips, giving him the most seductive look I had in my arsenal. Judging from the way his breath caught, it did the trick.
“Algo sucio,” I said, giving him the literal translation for something dirty.
I never claimed to be mature.
Diego threw his head back and laughed. And then, eyes still twinkling, he started to dance to the music.
Steel for 5 (Mags & Nats Book 3) Page 12
