Magic Shifts

by Ilona Andrews

  “We stripped it and converted it into a club for children, so they would be entertained while we separate their parents from their money,” Rowena said. “We are aiming to be a family-friendly destination.”

  I almost choked on that.

  We turned left and walked up a staircase to a balcony of opaque glass overlooking the enormous room. Rowena knocked and held the door open for us. I had been in Ghastek’s office before. It hadn’t changed much—same shelves supporting books and assorted odd objects lining the walls, same late-sixteenth-century witch shackles hanging in a place of honor on the wall, same crescent-shaped reed sofa, and of course, a vampire perched in the corner, like a vigilant hairless cat.

  Ghastek stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping coffee from a white mug that read, Graveyard Shift: We do it in the dark. From this side, the glass of the window was crystal clear, offering an excellent view of the undead stables, and Ghastek surveyed it like he owned it, because he pretty much did. He wore a tailored pair of sleek navy pants and a woven gray sweater with a hint of blue. Both looked elegant and deceptively simple, which probably meant they were hideously expensive. A small black velvet triangle interrupted the texture of the weave just below the flat-knit collar. The triangle alone probably cost him an extra three hundred dollars.

  The clothes fit him with some slack. He needed to eat more.

  For some reason, the thought of Ghastek and food made me uneasy. I puzzled over it until the answer floated up oh so slowly: we’d starved together in Mishmar. That was it.

  “So you liked the mug?” I asked. I had sent it to him for Christmas.

  Ghastek pivoted toward me. Rowena sat on the sofa.

  “Thank you for the lovely gift,” Ghastek said, managing to put exactly zero emotion into those six words. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need you to call my father.”

  • • •

  GHASTEK STARED AT me. Rowena blinked.

  “What do you mean, call your father?”

  “Dial his number, use the phone, and ring him up.”

  Ghastek struggled with it for a few seconds. “One does not simply ring Roland.”

  Oh boy. I supposed I would get a lecture on the dangers of wandering into Mordor next. “Okay, how do you normally contact him?”

  “We don’t,” Rowena said.

  “If something that we view as crucial arises,” Ghastek said, “we file a petition.”

  The phone rang. Ghastek picked it up. “I said hold my calls.”

  His eyes widened. Very carefully he set his mug down and held the phone out. “It’s for you.”

  I took it.

  “Blossom,” my father’s voice said in my ear. His magic washed over me, as if someone had split the atmosphere and the universe in all its glory rained down on me. The sheer monumental power of it took my breath away. He must’ve been working on something—probably on that damn tower—because the last time I spoke to him, he took the time to tone it down and the impact of his words wasn’t quite so cosmic.

  I pressed the speaker button and put the phone down. I wanted both hands free in case something jumped out of it and tried to rip out my throat.

  “My night is brighter,” my father said.

  Rowena froze, completely still like a statue. Julie pulled a piece of chalk out of her pocket, drew a protective circle on the floor, and sat in it. At the other end of the room, Ghastek clenched his teeth, probably trying to mitigate the effect of Roland’s voice. Yeah, good luck with that.

  “How have you been?” my father asked.

  Say something diplomatic . . . something . . . “If you build a tower in Lawrenceville, I will smash it, set it on fire, and salt the ground it stood on.”

  Ghastek put his hands over his eyes and pressed them into his face. I couldn’t tell if it was from frustration or terror.

  “We should have this conversation in person. I know, why don’t we go out to dinner?”

  What? “No.”

  “When I first awakened, a few years before the Shift, I used to frequent this low-key chain of restaurants, with a wide variety on the menu. I can’t quite recall the name but it had a fruit and an insect.”

  Ghastek mouthed something at me. I shook my head. I was distracted enough already trying to keep my magic shields up. Talking to him during tech was a lot easier. “I consider the tower to be a declaration of war. You are preventing me from expanding my domain. That specifically violates our agreement.”

  Ghastek grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and drew furiously.

  “I would love to see you.”

  Ghastek held up his drawing. It was a butt with a bee flying over it. What?

  “I haven’t spoken to you in over one hundred days.”

  “That’s wasn’t an oversight on my part.”

  I must’ve made a face, because Ghastek scribbled on the paper and held it up. He had drawn a leaf on the butt. Well, yes, that explains everything. Thank you, Mr. Helpful. I waved him off. Rowena got up, tiptoed over to Ghastek, and took the paper away from him.

  “I’m free tomorrow at five,” he said. “Bring the family.”

  Rowena held up the paper. On it in large letters was written APPLEBEE’S.

  Oh. “I’m not having dinner with you at Applebee’s.”

  “Tomorrow at five. Thank you for inviting me into your domain. I am so glad we could do this. It will give me a chance to stop by our local office as well. I look forward to catching up.”

  The disconnect signal beeped at me.

  God damn it.

  I reached over and carefully pushed the off button.

  Julie exhaled and stepped out of the circle.

  “Did that help?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said and looked at Ghastek. “I’m sorry I drew on your floor.”

  He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “It’s fine.”

  Rowena raised her eyebrows at him. “Did you forget how to write?” she asked softly.

  Ghastek just looked at her. I understood perfectly. Being in the presence of Roland’s magic demanded your attention. You concentrated on blocking it until it short-circuited your normal thoughts. It was like trying to carry on an intelligent debate while being sucked into a maelstrom. You had to tread water to stay afloat and it took every iota of concentration you had.

  I had come here intending to declare a possible war and instead ended up planning a dinner date with my father at Applebee’s. There was only one Applebee’s that had survived the Shift in Atlanta. The chain had started in Decatur, Georgia, in the 1980s, and a single restaurant bearing the name still stood there, claiming to be the first and original Applebee’s.

  I would have to go to dinner. Stopping by the local office was a threat. I wasn’t sure if Ghastek and Rowena knew it, but I understood his message crystal clear. It was up to me how this surprise inspection would go and how many heads would roll because of it.

  For a man who hadn’t been sure I existed for most of my life, my father got my number very fast.

  Ghastek leaned back and crossed his arms. “I had a promising career. I had achieved recognition and some infinitesimal measure of security. And then you came along.”

  Aha. He and the dozens of hostages working in this building could cry me a river. “Who taught you to draw, Ghastek? That doesn’t even remotely look like an apple. It looks like a butt.”

  “More like a peach,” Rowena said.

  “I have an inspection in less than twenty-four hours,” Ghastek said, his voice dry. “If we have quite finished critiquing my ability to draw fruit, I have things to do.”

  I leaned back. “Are you worried about it?”

  He looked insulted. “No. We can be inspected at any point, and we would stand up to scrutiny.”

  “If you are anxious, I can make sure h
e eats something deliciously sweet before he comes over here. Like a generous helping of tres leches cake or a chocolate sundae.”

  Ghastek stared at me. “Get out.”

  I rose and made a show of sniffling. “Come on, Julie. Clearly we are not wanted here.”

  “I will show you out,” Rowena said.

  I went to the door, turned, and looked at Ghastek. My father had my number, but I was his daughter and I had made a career out of studying him.

  “You keep thinking of him as a god. He is a man. He loves life and he pays attention to every moment. Each second is filled with endless wonder for him. He notices the texture of the couch under his fingertips and the color of the tea in his cup. This is how he stays alive, because if he ever grows bored and disillusioned with the world, he will become a shadow of his former self and die, just like my aunt. Treat him as a man. If you want to make a good impression, don’t do a big official welcome. Meet him yourself and make sure to afford him the small, everyday courtesies.”

  I walked out.

  • • •

  “CAN I SPEAK to you in private?” Rowena asked under her breath as we walked into the lobby. “Outside?”

  “Sure.” I had a pretty good idea how that conversation was going to go. Why didn’t you tell me you are my nearly immortal boss’s daughter? It didn’t come up. Where do we go from here? Ugh.

  But she was bound to me by the oath she had sworn to the witches. I turned to Julie. “Go ahead of me and start the car, please.”

  Julie gave Rowena a sideways glance filled with enough teenage scorn to instantly incinerate a small army and sped up ahead of us.

  “That child is just like you,” Rowena said, her voice making it obvious it wasn’t a compliment.

  “Thank you.”

  We were almost to the door when a journeywoman with short dark hair nearly sprinted to us across the floor.

  “Trouble,” I told Rowena.

  She turned. The journeywoman ran up to her.

  “Not now,” Rowena said.

  The journeywoman gulped some air and whispered, “Frederick exposed himself to two young women in front of the ladies’ bathroom.”

  Rowena’s eyes went wide. She turned on her heel toward me. “One minute.”

  “Take your time. I’ll wait for you by the fountain.”

  I walked out of the Casino’s doors. After the stench of the undead, the night air tasted refreshing, like a gulp of cold water in the heat of a summer day. I’d had enough of the People’s hospitality for one night. Maybe if I splashed some water from those pretty fountains on my face, it would wash the stench off.

  A man stepped in my way. “Kate!”

  How did I know him . . . I had seen him before. He stepped forward and the light shone on his face. Lago Vista. Except this Lago seemed to have lost at least two decades. The Lago I recalled had seen forty-five. In my head, his hair was thinning, his muscle drooped a bit off his frame, and lines had begun to crop up on his face. This Lago was in his prime. He stood straight, his shoulders were broad, his chest filled out his leather, and as he sauntered toward me, his gait betrayed no trace of a limp. His hair was thick, his eyes bright, and his smirk had gone from self-deprecating to smug.

  All my warning sirens went off at the same time.

  “Hey.” Lago winked at me. “Didn’t know you gambled.”

  “I don’t. Strictly business.” There was something important I needed to remember about Lago. Something vital. It was making my head hurt, but when I reached for those memories, there was nothing there.

  “I just wanted to tell you that you and I are cool. I don’t hold grudges.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Lago grinned. “That’s the right kind of attitude. Water under the bridge.” He waved his arm as if tossing an invisible baseball. “Whoosh, gone and forgotten.”

  Okay. An important chunk of my memory was definitely missing.

  “So where is your guy?”

  “At home.”

  “Oooh. Out on the town by yourself.” He nodded. “I like it. Come on, I’ll treat you to a couple of spins on the roulette wheel.”

  “Can you afford to gamble, Lago?”

  He reached into his jacket. It looked brand-new. New pants, too. New boots. Lago pulled out a wad of cash held together with a rubber band and held it up between his index and middle finger. “I’m flush.”

  I could almost remember it. I could feel the tail end of a memory squirming somewhere just outside my reach. “You got a rich uncle I don’t know about?”

  “Nahh. I’m a self-made man. So what do you say, Kate? Let me show you a good time. Your guy doesn’t have to know.”

  Lago had some serious balls.

  “Sorry,” I told him. “I’m meeting someone here in a couple of minutes and then I’m going home.”

  Lago pondered it. “You know, you’re right. Why go in there? Too many people. Let’s go for a drive instead. I always thought you were hot, Kate. Mmm, legs.”

  And we had gone straight into creepy territory. I really didn’t want to break his arms. “No.”

  “No?”

  “Move on, Lago.”

  He smiled at me. “Well, shoot. I guess I’ll have to do it the other way. I want this one.”

  Magic clamped me, trying to pull me forward. Overwhelming, catastrophic power squeezed me. An alien intelligence brushed against me. Every hair on the back of my neck rose. I dropped my shields and pushed back. My legs shook from the strain. I couldn’t cry out. I had no voice. It was taking everything I had to not move.

  Lago made a come-here motion with his hand. “Car, car, car. Quickly now.”

  A sleek silver convertible slid from the shadows, completely silent.

  Lago swung the door open. “In you go.”

  The magic squeezed, grinding me. It was streaming from Lago, but it wasn’t his magic. He was merely a shell, an anchor for something ancient and powerful with a familiar flavor. We’d just had a chat in Biohazard’s dumping ground.

  So here you are, precious. Didn’t wait long.

  The power pressed on me, demanding compliance. Strong. So strong. I clenched my teeth and pushed back. The ifrit’s magic recoiled slightly, shocked at the resistance.

  That’s right, punk. Try me. I’m coming for you.

  The power clamped me, harder and harder. I concentrated on lifting my hand. Lago must’ve gotten hold of whatever shiny thing the giant wore in his ear. Oh, you stupid fool. Never bargain with beings you don’t understand.

  “I said, I want this one,” Lago said. “What’s the matter with you?”

  The power squeezed, trying to pull me off my feet.

  I’m going to kill you. I’m coming for you and I will kill you.

  My hand crept up, ever so slowly, as if I were swimming through cooling tar. It felt like my muscles tore and snapped off my bones one by one. The presence behind the spell threw all of its weight against me. My magic and its magic ground and clashed like two swords locked against each other.

  My hand was almost to Sarrat’s hilt. Another inch and I am so there. Sorry, Lago. Take out the anchor and the ship will drift away.

  “Kate?” Rowena walked up to us.

  Lago stroked his chin. “Oh my God. No offense, Kate. Forget that one, let’s take this one instead.”

  Rowena’s face went slack. The magic vanished. I flew backward twenty-five feet and landed on my ass on the pavement. It took me half a second to roll to my feet. The car was already speeding away into the night, Rowena in the passenger seat, her eyes blank.

  I sprinted after the convertible.

  A vampire barreled into me, knocking me off my feet. We rolled and it landed on top of me, red eyes burning. The massive mouth unhinged an inch from my face, the twin fangs like sickles in the moonlight. />
  “Do not move!” A navigator barked in my ear. “Identify yourself.”

  I punched the bloodsucker in the head. “You moron. He’s kidnapping your Master of the Dead. Get the hell off me. Get Ghastek! Tell him an old power took Rowena. Move, damn you!”

  For a moment the vampire froze.

  The gates of the white minarets above me opened wide and vampires rained onto the pavement.

  CHAPTER

  16

  FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLDS MAKE TERRIBLE drivers. They speed, they pay no attention to the rules of the road, and they think they’re immortal. There are times when you absolutely have to have a fifteen-year-old behind the wheel. Chasing a convertible driven by the kidnapper of a necromancer down Atlanta’s deserted streets in the middle of the night was one of those times.

  “He’s too fast,” Julie growled.

  We hit a bump. The Jeep went airborne and landed with a creak. I ran my tongue along my teeth to make sure they were all still there.

  Above us, vampires dashed along the buildings.

  Something landed on the roof with a thud. I rolled down the passenger window and a vampire stuck his head in, hanging upside down.

  “I’m not amused,” Ghastek said through the vampire’s mouth.

  “Well, pardon me. You can get your refund back at the ticket booth.”

  “Just once, could you visit my place of business without causing a major incident?”

  “I didn’t cause an incident.”

  “No, you’re right. I misspoke. You talked to a man who then kidnapped a Master of the Dead, requiring us to make a massive show of force, which will no doubt result in financial losses and negative publicity less than twenty-four hours before your father inspects our facilities. ‘Incident’ would be too mild a word. If this is a diversion, it won’t work. More than a third of our force remains at the Casino under capable leadership. They are able to repel any attack.”

  “It’s not a diversion,” I squeezed through clenched teeth. “It’s an ifrit who wants to take over the city.” Also, he’d only brought less than a quarter of his total vampire force.