When Pruwist didn’t immediately respond, Bri dug her titanium fingers into his wound.
Pruwist screamed.
I winced. My stomach flipped as blood oozed around her fingers.
Bri didn’t blink.
“Don’t—know—” Pruwist managed through wheezing breaths. “Can’t remember.”
“Tell me!” Bri shouted.
We all saw the moment Pruwist’s body went limp. He was gone, and so was our last chance at answers.
CHAPTER 55
Um, kittens?” A.J. cleared his throat. “We’ve got a situation you’re going to want to deal with.”
My heart lurched into my throat.
“Your family’s fine,” Michael said, seeing the panic on my face.
“The rest of Boston isn’t.” A.J. waved his hand at the shattered windows overlooking the city skyline. “Everyone’s scared out of their wits, and now we’ve got no Director, interim or otherwise.”
A.J. was right.
“I killed the recordings right after the wedding,” Smith said. “No one knows about Pruwist yet.”
“They will soon enough,” A.J. replied. “His entourage is bound to notice when he comes back out of this building in a body bag.”
“We have to tell everyone,” I said.
Gray nodded.
We turned to what used to be the wall of glass, which was now just a few shards still attached to the walls. The balcony was all that separated us from the summer breeze wafting in off the harbor.
We were a story up, and so I could see the faces of the mass of people gathered below. They crowded onto the grass as they stared up at us, waiting.
They expected answers. They wanted protection and reassurance.
I glanced down at my bloodstained wedding dress and the two dead people on the floor…and then back to the people standing below.
I began to speak. Together, Gray and I told our audience that Subject 6 and Pruwist were dead. We left out all the details about the slaves and what Subject 6 had really been after. Something felt wrong about letting people believe Subject 6 had been evil, but it couldn’t be helped. If we revealed what we knew, we’d be giving whoever controlled the slaves time to disappear.
After we’d finished explaining, there was silence.
“Any ideas?” Gray asked me in a quiet voice.
Not really.
I took a deep breath and collected the pieces of my scattered thoughts. I tried to come up with something diplomatic and inspiring.
The words that came out of my mouth were neither. They were just the truth.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” I told our audience. “But I’m sick of Directors being corrupt assholes.”
“You can’t say assholes,” Myrtle shrieked from the crowd below.
“Smith, get those cameras back on,” A.J. ordered. “This is going to be good, and I want all of Boston to bear witness to this historic moment.”
“Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” Smith grumbled. But a second later, our images popped up on the screens off to the side. Even the people who weren’t standing outside the courthouse would be able to see us on their TVs at home, since I had no doubt Smith was broadcasting everything onto all the local networks.
“What do you say, Boston?” I asked, emboldened by the tentative whoops my first statement had earned. “Are we ready to come together and prove we’re better than our past?”
The cheers were louder this time. I heard an enthusiastic Get shit done! chant begin on the grass below.
“The election isn’t for another month,” A.J. said over the sound of applause. “Save the zinger speech for voting day.”
Gray gave the crowd the smile he was famous for.
“Kaira and I—” Graysen paused and gave me a look that made my knees a little weak. “—believe Boston can lead the world to a better standard for peace. Whatever the outcome in the election, we believe in this city and its people.”
“Screw that,” a voice shouted from our audience. “Why not have the vote now? We’re ready!”
I laughed a little. “We can’t just decide when to have a vote,” I called down to whoever had spoken. That wouldn’t be fair to the other candidates.”
I wasn’t about to abuse our authority before we even had it.
“But we appreciate your support,” Graysen said. “Just keep it up for another month, and we’ll be golden.”
The people below were having none of it. Their chanting had turned into a roar.
Get shit done. Get shit done. Get shit done!
Each rendition was accentuated with a fist pump into the air.
I exchanged a What do we do? look with Gray.
“Huh,” Smith said. He tapped his closed laptop. “All of your opponents just posted statements on their websites. All of them withdrew their candidacy when they realized they didn’t have a bat’s chance at winning.” He gave Graysen and me an incredulous look. “It’s past the deadline for entrants, so the two of you are the only ones left in the race.”
“Does that make you the Directors by default?” Yutika asked.
“We have to at least have a vote,” I said, speaking over the thunder of my heartbeat. It wouldn’t be right for us to just take over, even if we were the only ones left on the ballot.
Which seemed too crazy to even contemplate.
“I have an idea,” Graysen said. “We could give people the choice between voting to elect us now, or pushing the election back to November so new candidates can run against us.”
A thrill went through me at the thought of being Director…of being able to make Boston safe for all Mags and Nats like I’d always wanted.
Now, it seemed almost within my grasp. Except….
“How are people going to vote without voting booths?” I asked. My excitement cooled as the logistics of holding a vote now clicked into place.
“Oh, pick me!” Yutika waved her hand like she was a kid in school with all the answers. Then, she whipped out her sketchbook.
In less than a minute, there was a voting booth behind me.
My jaw went slack…not at what Yutika created, but at the fact that our only barrier to holding a vote had just disappeared.
Holy shit.
Bri carried Pruwist and Subject 6’s bodies somewhere else in the building, and a mop was in the process of cleaning up the blood…courtesy of A.J.
I was a little too stunned at everything that was happening to fully react to the deaths.
“Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll have these babies all over the building,” Yutika said.
“I can set up a secure digital voting system that people can just fill out on their devices,” Smith said. “It’ll prevent anyone from voting more than once, and it’ll keep the entire city from racing over here to cast their votes in person.”
Graysen took the microphone A.J. handed him. The people on the grass were causing such a ruckus, Gray had to shout into the microphone to make himself heard as he explained what everyone would be voting on.
“Vote for Kaira and Graysen!” people on the lawn were shouting.
A.J. held up a giant banner that he must have already had stashed somewhere in the vicinity. It proclaimed “reasons why Kaira and Graysen are the best.” The first bullet point was that we apparently had a world-class political strategist who also doubled as a talented fashion consultant.
I couldn’t imagine who he was referring to.
“It’s obvious the job of Director is too much for one person,” A.J. said, leaning over to speak into the microphone. “But I know an amazing pair who will be perfect for the job. Long live Kaira Hansley and Graysen Galder!”
“They aren’t the king and queen,” Smith said without looking up from his laptop. He was tallying the votes that were already pouring in.
My palms started to sweat as the numbers ticked up.
We waited for what could have been minutes or hours. Smith looked up from his computer and met my gaze.
“It’s over,” Smith said. “Every single person registered as a Boston citizen has voted.”
“How is that even possible?” I asked.
Smith lifted a shoulder. “I guess Boston was as ready for a change as we were.”
Gray squeezed my hand.
Smith’s words got impossibly louder when A.J. held the microphone right up to his mouth.
“It was a landslide. Ninety-eight percent of Boston voted to elect Kaira and Graysen here and now.”
The crowd went wild. People were shouting our names amid chants of Get shit done. Balloons and confetti filled the air, which prompted A.J. to steal the mike and go on a tirade about littering and environmental impact.
“We’re the Directors?” I asked, barely able to hear myself over the applause and cheers.
My incredulous laugh was cut short when Gray pressed a hard kiss to my lips.
“We’re the Directors,” he confirmed, grinning.
We let ourselves be swept outside into a sea of Boston citizens and Alliance officials who had questions, demands, and advice. Bri stayed by my side, pushing anyone who came too close, while Michael kept the eager crowd from mauling Gray.
Sir Zachary paraded through the throngs people, commanding more attention than either of the new Directors.
Gray met my gaze over the group of people now separating us. He held up his left hand, displaying the wedding band on his ring finger.
I felt the worried lines on my face smooth out into a smile.
We had an incredible uphill battle to fight. We might have convinced Boston to elect an unMarked Mag, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be pushback when we actually changed the law. And then there’d be the fallout from the two deaths that had taken place during our wedding, along with everything Subject 6 had revealed. But in spite of all of that, I felt oddly serene.
Gray and I had taken the first step in our fight to make Boston truly belong to both Mags and Nats. And we were doing it our way…what A.J. was now referring to—quietly, of course—as our special brand of legal, but with a twist.
CHAPTER 56
Some time later, when the crowd had thinned and night was falling, the 7.5 of us were alone. We stretched out on the grass, where we had a view of the city skyline. It was the first time we’d been off our feet all day. For several minutes, we just sat in silence.
Bri spoke first.
“I know things are going to be different now that you’re Directors.” She didn’t look at any of us as she shredded a blade of grass. “And I don’t want to abandon you when you’re about to need all the help you can get, but I won’t be of any use to anyone until I find out what happened to my niece.”
I took both of Bri’s hands in mine, waiting until I had her full attention.
“Just because we’re Directors, it doesn’t mean we can’t multitask,” I told her. “We’re not abandoning you.”
“No way are we letting this go,” Gray said, his jaw tight with anger. “We’re going to figure out what happened to those kids.”
“I’m down to get to the bottom of another conspiracy,” Smith said. “I already have some ideas about where to start.”
“I appreciate it,” Bri said, “but this is going to get dangerous. I don’t want to involve all of you—”
Her words were cut off by a chorus of snorts and guffaws.
“We’re the 7.5,” Yutika said, speaking for all of us. “Running a city and finding a lost generation of Mags is right up our alley.”
“Not just that,” I said, looking around at the group of people who meant more to me than I could ever put into words. “We’re family.”
“And family always has each other’s backs.” A.J. patted Bri’s arm. “We’ve got you, cutie pie.”
A tear rolled down Bri’s cheek as she nodded.
“We’re going to get answers,” I promised her. “And we’re going to do it the way we started all of this.” I met Gray’s eyes, their blue-green color piercing the darkness. “Together.”
THE END
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Thank you for reading my book. Because reviews are so important for a book to be successful, please consider leaving a brief review if you enjoyed Mag Subject 6. Many thanks!
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Acknowledgements
I am so grateful to all of the people who helped bring this book together.
To Andrew Brodsky, Keith Tarrier, and Ellen Schaeffer. Thank you for being part of the team that made this book possible. You all are so talented at what you do!
To my amazing ARC team. Thank you so much for your incredible feedback and all of your support.
To the friends and family who have been there with me every step of the way.
To my fantastic readers, who are the inspiration behind these books.
To my amazing husband, Andrew Brodsky, for being my biggest champion.
About the Author
Stephanie Fazio is a fantasy author. She grew up in Syracuse, New York, and prior to writing full time, she worked in the fields of journalism, secondary education, and higher education. She has an undergraduate degree in English from Colgate University and a Master’s degree in Reading, Writing, and Literacy from the University of Pennsylvania. Stephanie lives in Austin with her husband and crazy rescue dog. When she isn’t writing, she’s getting lost in parks, hosting taco nights, or ironically and miserably losing word games, but having fun while she does it.
Connect with Stephanie Fazio
Visit her Website: https://www.stephaniefazio.com
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Continue the Mags & Nats Series
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Mag Subject 6 (Mags & Nats Book 2) Page 38