Death Magic Rules

by Sharon Stevenson

  “Hey. Are you okay?”

  She frowned at me.

  Damn it. Why hadn’t I realised this was such a bad idea before I came all the way over here? “Sorry, you just looked kind of lost. Forget it.” I started to turn.

  She cleared her throat. “I think he bailed on me.” There was a hint of something familiar in her voice… desperation? I could work with that. She held up her ticket. “He’s been in there almost ten minutes. I don’t think I want to be on this date anymore, even if he hasn’t bailed.”

  I turned back and smiled at her. “You want me to go and check the men’s room?”

  She shook her head slowly. “Are you… are you here with someone?”

  “Just my cousin. What are you seeing?”

  She showed the tickets. Not only did the guy abandon her, he’d left her with a ticket to the brain-dead action flick that was getting solid single star ratings from critics and action fans alike. Why had I even offered to go look for this creep?

  “I’ll be back in a sec,” I told her, darting back to Mickey as he got to the front of the queue for tickets. He glanced at me as he asked for our tickets. I shook my head. “Make it two for Faster Cars, Bigger Guns.”

  Mickey screwed up his face at me. “What?”

  I motioned back. “I may have picked up a date.”

  “Oh,” he said slowly as he picked up the tickets I’d ordered and passed over the cash. “Right. Now it makes sense.” He shook his head at me. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me watch this trash.”

  She was still waiting when we walked over. I smiled, and she smiled back.

  “This is Mickey. I’m Pete.”

  “Kerry,” she said, blushing when I offered my arm like some kind of retarded butler monkey.

  She took it, and her warm body was instantly close to mine. I panicked suddenly that I might feel cold to her. If I did, she didn’t seem to notice. We headed in to the food court where Mickey grabbed a beer and a hotdog. I asked if she wanted anything, and she said no. I wasn’t sure if she was just too quiet to admit she wanted something, but I couldn’t exactly get anything for myself in case she wanted some. Mostly because I’d want to taste it the second I smelled it up close. I doubted she’d be okay with me chewing up popcorn and spitting it out again. I took a good whiff of the awesome mix of food smells before we headed into the theatre. I’d dropped my arm by this point and was holding her hand instead. She seemed happy enough with it and that made me wonder what else I might be able to get away with. This girl was definitely my type. My day was turning out pretty damn well.

  Nineteen – Kit

  I was awoken by the ringing phone at about half two. With a weary sigh, I managed to pull myself up and answer it. The voice on the other end was the last one I’d wanted to hear.

  “Hey, Kit, how was the party?”

  “How the hell did you get my number?” I couldn’t believe this. He was going too far. I was calling the police right after I hung up on him. “This is harassment, Nick. You do know that? I can’t…”

  “You sound sick,” he cut in, worry in his tone.

  “I’m fine, not that it’s your business.” I coughed.

  “You’ve been sick? That’s not good.”

  “No shit,” I muttered. “That’s beside the point. I don’t want you calling me. You’re not welcome. I don’t like you. Get it through…”

  “There’s still some cake left, isn’t there?”

  He was seriously giving me a headache now. “I threw it away.”

  “No you didn’t. You need to eat some more, now.”

  “Get lost.”

  “I mean it, Catherine Chase. You’re going to go get it and eat two slices. If you’re sick again, you’ll wait a while and eat two more.”

  “What the fuck kind of medical advice is…” I lost my train of thought suddenly; the cake box I’d knocked off the coffee table catching my attention. “Yes, Nick.”

  He sighed, satisfaction warming his tone when he spoke again. “You’ll meet me outside the pub to go out for dinner. Say eight o’clock. Wear a dress.”

  “Eight o’clock,” I repeated, mentally rifling through my wardrobe for a suitable outfit.

  “Good,” he said.

  I could just tell he was smiling, I could hear it in his voice. I sighed as he hung up. The cake was still mostly intact. I straightened up the box up went to get a knife.

  It had been so long since I’d had a real date. I wasn’t sure I had a dress that would be nice enough. I’d check once I’d eaten. A shiver of anticipation zinged through me. I had sexy underwear I was definitely going to be wearing. If I couldn’t find the right dress in my wardrobe I would go out and buy a new one. I wondered what Nick was going to wear. He’d look good in a suit. His scruffy musician look was a bit of a turn off, but…

  I blinked. What was I thinking? It wasn’t a turn off. He had bad boy sex appeal with those ripped t-shirts showing off his pierced…

  I burst out laughing. Putting the knife down on the counter, I tried to calm myself before I took it through to the living room. I had no idea why I was so hysterical. I could probably put it down to an empty stomach. I headed into the living room and cut the cake.

  Kat had told me to take it away, that she didn’t want it sitting around her house calling to her when she was alone with it. I rolled my eyes. As if a tiny bit of cake would destroy her perfect figure. My concerns were less trifling. I only worried that this was technically breakfast, and it wasn’t exactly a great start to the day.

  Shrugging to myself, I started to eat. It still tasted good. I devoured the first slice heartily. The second I took a single bite of and put down. I was starting to feel full. I didn’t fancy being sick again so I closed the box over, thinking I’d go back to it later, maybe.

  I headed to my bedroom, searching for the perfect dress I wasn’t certain I actually owned. My critical eye roved over the overstuffed rail in the wardrobe: too casual, too baggy, too long, too purple. There was nothing that was right. I sighed and sat down, opening the top drawer of my bedside cabinet.

  “William,” I said, activating my A.I. owl.

  He peered up at me as I lifted him out the drawer. “Yes, Miss Chase?”

  “What should I wear tonight?”

  “What’s the occasion?” he asked, fluttering out of my hand and flying over to the open wardrobe. He didn’t like to fly much, it used up his batteries pretty quickly, but he’d just fully recharged them so he was unconcerned.

  “Dinner date.”

  “With Master Pete?” Was it just my imagination or did he sound awfully excited at that prospect?

  I snorted. “Hardly. I’m going out with Nick.”

  He gasped. “But Miss Chase…”

  “What is it, William?”

  “That man is unpleasant.”

  I smiled. “He’s just misunderstood.”

  “Oh dear,” William muttered.

  “He’s brilliant, really. Good looking, too.” I couldn’t seem to say that last thing without bursting into laughter. Something seriously weird is going on inside my head today. I was going to blame being hung-over.

  “Might I suggest going shopping?” William asked, landing on my bedside cabinet.

  “Great idea,” I said, smiling at the thought of it. I got up and picked out my nicest lingerie: a balconette bra and French knickers in cream silk with delicate black lace panels. Now I just needed a dress to go on top.

  Twenty – Mickey

  Pete was snogging the face off that blonde bimbo he picked up in the cinema lobby before the movie even got started. I got up and moved a seat down. There were only a couple dozen people in the theatre; I could have moved to anywhere and believe me I was seriously tempted to. How was I meant to know the stupid glamour spell would make Pete go nuts? If I’d thought he’d do this, I’d have left him in his flat.

  Sighing, I crushed up the wrapper for my long gone hot dog and sipped at my large coke. This movie looked like it
was going to suck balls for the full hour and a half, and that wasn’t even fun if it was a porno. I glowered at the little slapper who had caused this to be the movie I was watching. She wasn’t even watching it! And what the hell did Pete think he was doing? I thought he liked Kit. I shook my head and tried to watch the movie as it kicked off with a cheesy explosion in a warehouse. Oh, the main character has three seconds to get out of there, does he? He’s mincemeat then. Oh, no, he apparently isn’t; he’s miraculously bomb-proof by hitting the deck a few feet away from where it went off. Surely the debris would have at least hit him.

  I got up half way in. Pete and the blonde were taking it easy, Pete’s arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. They barely knew I was even there. I had half a mind to go home; well, not home but the flat, which could maybe be home if we could only get Pete’s stupid ex-room-mate to leave. I supposed I should probably ask Pete about it before I moved in too.

  I headed for the men’s room first, eyeing the popcorn counter on my way past. The toilets were in the main hall, a chill draft coming in from the open front of house doors. I shivered as I pushed the door inwards.

  “Holy fucking shit!”

  There was a guy hanging from the rafters, face slack and mostly a weird shade of purple. His eyes were open, bulging and red from burst blood-vessels. He was one hundred percent dead. I took a step back out into the hall. The usher behind the ticket desk glanced up as I headed over, stumbling towards the booth. “Eh…”

  He sighed and got up. “There’s another one, isn’t there?”

  He couldn’t possibly know what I was talking about. “I don’t think so, there’s a dead guy hanging in there…”

  “Third one this week,” he muttered, passing me a key. “Staff toilet’s around the corner. Just bring the key back.”

  I watched him head into the toilet, not sure what exactly was going on. He’d known what was in there. What the hell was going on?

  Twenty-One – Tim

  I paid Nine a visit after making sure King David didn’t need me for anything. He’d been dismissive, basically telling me to get lost when his new team teleported into the lab. I got the impression he’d been there all night. His clones were sitting up on their tables, wearing clothes that almost made them look ordinary. If two of them weren’t drooling and staring into space slackly, I might have believed they were normal humans. The other two seemed more alert, turning their heads when I came into the room. I wondered idly if I could get away with burning down the lab with those things trapped inside. One glance at the King told me I’d never get away with it. His obsession was obvious. I took his pre-occupation as my best opportunity to go visit Nine. I really had to start thinking of her as Britt, but somehow I just couldn’t.

  I teleported into the penthouse, disoriented momentarily by the dark sky outside. I’d forgotten about the time difference. I glanced at the spotless carpet. I could only tell there had been blood there if I spelled the floor.

  “Britt?” It felt wrong to call her that, but I couldn’t be sure she was alone.

  A door was pulled open in the other room. Her bedroom doors opened a moment later. The silky robe and natural make-up made her look almost perfect but the differences between Nine & her late master went much deeper. My dream came back to me, horrifyingly vivid. Nine was too meek to pull this off; when it came to the crunch, she’d crumble.

  “What happened?”

  She smiled. “The scientist guy came and took them away. He didn’t even ask any questions.”

  “Do you know where he took them?”

  She nodded. “I insisted on going with him. I know where the lab is now. I watched him burn them.”

  “Okay, good.” Did I trust her? I kind of had to, didn’t I?

  “Something wrong?” She cocked her head and put a hand on her hip. Her typical gestures were too overt. Of course, I could be being overly critical. The world would be watching her every move. The tabloids would report anything that seemed strange. They’d latch on to the differences in the way she acted. They’d say she was heading for a break-down.

  “You weren’t one of the clones who scalped old ladies at the slot machines, were you?”

  She laughed. “Don’t be stupid. That story got totally out of hand. Four didn’t know what wigs were. She thought that crusty old witch had a cat on her head.”

  Okay, that was something of a relief. “You’re not acting like Britt.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re too…” I looked her over and folded my arms. “You don’t have the same edge she had. She wouldn’t act like you do. It’s going to be noticed.”

  She glared at me. Obviously, she’d thought she was doing a better job than I’d just told her she was doing.

  “Look, it’s not a big deal but you’ll need to try a bit harder if you want to stay in her shoes.”

  She sighed and moved forward, sinking onto the couch. “Maybe I don’t want to stay in her shoes. Maybe they’re too big for me.”

  Damn. This wasn’t what I’d intended at all. “They’re not. She was just more of a bitch than you are. You need to remember what she was like.”

  She pursed her lips and shook her head. “I can’t stop thinking about what Eight said.”

  “You need to let that go,” I said.

  “I don’t want to. I never thought I’d have a friend. I didn’t think anyone would cry if she ever had me destroyed. It feels strange.”

  “You can’t go back to being a clone.”

  “Why not? Can’t one of the others take her place?”

  “None of them are good enough.” The only one close to being capable was her. Seven might have been, but she was gone now. “It needs to be you.”

  “You don’t understand…”

  “No. You don’t. All of you will be destroyed if anyone finds out Britt is dead.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  “This is the only way they can keep their lives. Do you want to cause Eight’s death?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Good. You’re almost there. You just need to try a little bit harder.”

  “Okay.” She sounded empty as she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

  “I’ve sorted out the situation with the Animates. The King is going to buy them from you.”

  She didn’t even look at me, just shrugged her shoulders.

  “We’ll need their contracts. Do you know where she kept them?”

  “I’ll need to look around,” she said. Her eyes were wet when she finally turned her head to look at me. “I think she kept them in here.”

  “Okay. Take your time. Call me when you find them.” I got up. I doubted my being there was making her feel any better.

  The increased presence of magic in the room as I got to my feet gave me the chills. The appearance of Pete’s new User in the middle of the room was not the most pleasant of surprises and I think he felt the same about my own presence, at least until his wide eyes fell on Nine.

  “Holy shit-bags,” he said. “What in the hell is this?”

  Options rushed through my head. Killing him was out; Pete would need a new User and the chances were he’d end up in the King’s Guard. I couldn’t let that happen. Lying to him wouldn’t exactly build any trust between us, but did I really need to do that? It could cause problems either way. I wasn’t sure what to do.

  “I killed you,” he said to Nine, a knife appearing in his right hand. The blade glinted as he tightened his grip on it. “How the hell can you be sitting there like that didn’t happen?”

  “What exactly are you doing here?” I grabbed his attention with my sharp tone.

  He sneered at me. “Coming to take what’s mine. So, step out of my way or get ready to bite it.”

  I’d forgotten quite how cocky newly powered up Users could be. With a tight smile, I locked my gaze on the knife and concentrated on melting it. The magic flowed from my hand as I flicked my wrist. The knife became liqu
id, slipping through his fingers and burning his hand in the process. He grimaced but didn’t make a sound.

  “I want what’s mine,” he said.

  “What exactly might that be?”

  Nine had barely moved from the couch. She sighed quietly as we spoke, but I didn’t detect any movement in my periphery vision.

  Nick kept glancing at her. He shook his head. “She’s not Britt. She can’t be. She doesn’t feel the same.”

  “The Animates don’t belong to you.”

  “I can feel them,” he said. “I control them.”

  “Okay then,” I told him, switching tact. “Take them.” I folded my arms.

  He frowned. “I can’t. There are too many.”

  “There are eighty,” I told him. “And they belong to the King. You have no way to keep them.”

  He scrunched up his face. “There are eighty-one. And I didn’t agree to the King taking any of them.”

  “Independent Users with more than three Animates have to declare themselves to the King and stand before his judgement.”

  He stared, running a hand through his greasy hair.

  “Do you want to stand before the King?”

  He knew exactly what I was saying and what it meant. He glanced at Britt and back to me. “One Animate. I’m entitled to more, but I don’t want to have to put them up.”

  It wasn’t really ideal, but it wouldn’t put a dent in my plans so I nodded.

  “I want the one Pete already knew,” he demanded.

  “Okay.” I’d met him. I could make sure Nick was given the right contract.

  He glanced Nine over with a knowing smile. “She’s one of the clones, isn’t she?”

  “It’s in your best interest to believe she’s Britt. If the King finds out he lost Animates to a level ten User he’ll track you down.”

  Nick rubbed at his lip ring. “And I suppose you’ll tell him all about me if I talk. What do I care if anyone knows Britt’s dead or not?”

  “You should care. It’s the only reason the King doesn’t already have you in his dungeon.”