Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  My fire wanted out, but I ignored it. Instead, I made a tiny gesture with my fingers and hurled a force field at the girl. It folded around her protectively, and the needle bounced off when the Harvester tried to shove it into her arm. He halted and raised his head, frantically looking in every direction. I quickly dipped back behind the debris and clamped my mouth shut, as if breathing would somehow draw him to me. My magic at my fingertips, I crouched and waited. The flames danced before my vision in a frenzy. It was as if they were calling for me, wanting me to join them. Mesmerised, I moved closer.

  “Clear them out!” a voice hollered. A familiar voice. “Get everyone able out of here and set up a perimeter.”

  Travers!

  I edged around the debris to the opposite side of where the girl was still trapped in my force field and looked out. A string of policemen, firemen, and ambulance personnel streamed into the square. The Harvesters retreated, sprinting off up the street where The Avalon club had once dominated the nightlife.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and shook myself.

  “Move out.” A fireman came towards me, windmilling his arms. “You’re too close to the fire.”

  “Huh?” I looked behind me as a tongue of fire nibbled at my hair. “Oh.” I jumped forward and patted my hair down, then dashed past the group of firemen to look for the young girl.

  She was still where I’d left her. Her hands slapped weakly against the invisible sphere around her and I quickly released it. Crouching next to her, I tried to lift the beam away. My muscles strained at the exercise, unable to move the beam even an inch. Well, Dad, I thought, sometimes magic is the best course of action.

  The square was bustling with people, and no one was looking my way, so I pretended to push the beam with pure muscle while I tapped into my telekinesis and shoved it forward. It thumped to the ground, freeing the girl from it.

  I was about to lay my hands on her leg when someone else came running. “Step away, please,” a woman said.

  “But—”

  “Is she alive?”

  I turned to look at the paramedic team. “She’s badly injured, but breathing.”

  “You need to go behind the barriers, darling. Let the professionals take it from here.”

  I wanted to protest, to tell them I could have healed the girl more quickly than either of them. My mouth opened to speak when Charlie’s voice sounded nearby.

  “Ru! Over here. We’re all here.”

  I closed my mouth and watched as two of the paramedics lifted the girl onto a gurney. She looked at me then, a small smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she mouthed. I immediately knew what she was. A Fae, just as Kaede had been.

  I waved and jogged to where Charlie was standing next to Jen and Travers.

  Chapter Ten

  Uniformed police officers were cordoning off the area with yellow tape. I ducked under one of what would have to become hundreds of lengths of it and joined the small group.

  I nodded at Travers. “Your men, Inspector?”

  “It’s Commander, Ru.” Charlie returned to her iPad screen, her fingers tapping and swiping frantically.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  Travers waved me off, flashing a quick smile. “Don’t worry, Miss Morgan. I haven’t got used to it myself.” He motioned at the carnage. “Besides, there are more important things to attend to. I understand from Hargraves that you were up in Hammersmith when the bombs went off?”

  “Is that official?” I said, failing to hide my journalistic instincts. “That the explosions were bombs, I mean?”

  Travers bit his lower lip. “Slip of the tongue. Don’t publish it, all right?”

  “I wasn’t planning to. I guess those guys would like to, however.” I pointed behind his back.

  “Bugger,” he muttered. “Ulsworth?”

  One of the officers hurried over. “Commander?” His voice matched his towering frame and uniform-bursting muscles.

  Travers pointed at a woman and a man running towards us up a side street from the dock. Rachel Straw in front held her microphone up like a jousting knight. I had to admit she was impressively fast on those heels. Her cameraman had his work cut out keeping up with her.

  “Get her away from me, Sergeant. And anyone else of her kind that might show up. Your vocabulary is two words, and two words only, for the foreseeable future. Got that, Ulsworth?”

  Sergeant Ulsworth drew a crooked smile and nodded. “No comment.” He turned, raised his hands and placed himself like a wall between Straw and us.

  “Is this another attack by the Lionhearts, Commander?” she shouted.

  Travers ignored her. “Let’s go.”

  The four of us moved away from the barrier that was Sergeant Ulsworth.

  “I watched you looking at that injured girl,” the commander continued. “And Miss Lune here told me you have been searching the area. What have you seen so far?”

  “To me,” I said, “it looks like three bombs—sorry, explosions. The biggest blast seems to have been the one in the Avalon club. Then there’s a small pub on the corner over there.” I pointed to a gaping hole in the wall of a three-storey house. “And, of course, the crater in the market square.”

  Travers held a finger to his earpiece. “The Blasters are on their way.”

  “That’s the bomb tech guys,” Charlie interjected.

  “That’s correct, Hargraves. Ideally, they should have scanned and cleared the area before the emergency personnel were allowed to go in.” He shook his head, traces of a smile playing on his lips. “Then again, those guys have only one object in mind—saving lives. Can’t very well get mad at them for caring.”

  “Can I help?” Jen asked, stepping forward.

  Travers narrowed his eyes. “Pardon?”

  “I’m a Shifter. A wolf. I might be able to sniff out any additional explosives.”

  “Thank you, but I think we’ll leave that to the trained dogs. Also, I’ll have to ask you all to step outside the barriers. Civilians, and all that.”

  I leaned closer to the commander. “There are also Harvesters in the streets and alleys. I counted eighteen, but there might be more.”

  He grunted. “That’s not good at all. The SWATs are also on their way. I’m starting to wish my wife hadn’t talked me into shopping downtown today. Cheers, Miss Morgan. Now, if you please?” He pointed at the yellow tape.

  “Sure.”

  Charlie looked up from her iPad. “Me too?”

  “Sorry, Hargraves, but it’s protocol.” Travers tapped his earpiece again. “Check in with HQ, and keep up your, what did you call it, digiwitching?”

  Charlie grinned. “Yes, Commander.”

  Travers was already online with someone else. “This is Commander Travers of Tactical Mag-rela—oh, sod it—Mag-Ops. I’m on the scene at The Forge. What’s your ETA?”

  We followed his orders and retreated to a quiet corner of the square, or at least away from the chaos in the middle. People were still running to and from the tunnel, some to escape, others to help. Or report. Sergeant Ulsworth had been joined by two other uniformed officers, all of them fending off an increasing number of reporters. They looked like baby birds in a nest, screaming at their mother to feed them a fat, greasy worm.

  Was this how I looked when I shouted my questions at Colburn? I hoped not.

  “I found him,” Jen said.

  “Who?” Charlie asked.

  “Erica’s father. Or most of him, at least. Literally cut in half. I hid him under the debris behind some bins.”

  I gasped and blinked my sore eyes. “She’ll be devastated.”

  “Yeah. I have to go tell her, but have no clue how.”

  I cleared my throat. “You’re her … alpha, aren’t you?”

  The right corner of her mouth pulled upwards in a half smile. “I thought you might have noticed.”

  Charlie dipped her head forward and raised her eyebrows. “That’s an actual thing? Real wolves don’t have that kind of pe
cking order.”

  Jen shrugged. “We had a little standoff at the Avalon, that night Ru was fighting Paddock. I guess that’s when we knew. Mama has been on me for the last two years about getting my own pack. So, I guess Erica’s my first beta.”

  I pulled her into my arms, stroking her hair. “And that’s her comfort when you tell her about her father. She’ll be crushed, and then lean on you for strength and protection.”

  Jen hugged me back, then let go. “I’ll go find her and—”

  “Citizens of The Forge!” a voice shouted through a megaphone.

  “What the fudge?” Charlie pointed at the big mound of rubble and debris in the middle of the square. “Is that Gemma?”

  Indeed it was. She was standing on top of the mound, holding a megaphone in one hand while the other was securing a blanket around her body. She must have grabbed it from the rescuers, judging by the red cross printed on it.

  “Get down!” shouted a policeman.

  He started towards her, but a group of men—and quite a few women—formed a circle at the base. The lone copper had no chance of getting to Gemma. Several more police officers came forward, but they were outnumbered by the barrier of what I assumed were predominantly Mags. The coppers formed a line, covering only a quarter of the circle around what had become a podium for Gemma.

  “Let her speak,” someone shouted from the other side of the square. People were gathering, moving out of streets and houses. The mob of reporters lost interest in Ulsworth and friends and turned their lenses and microphones to Gemma.

  “This is an act of war,” our flatmate said from her elevated position. Her shrill voice cut through the smoke-filled air like an arrow. “The Lionhearts must pay for this.”

  Travers stepped forward, cupping his hands by his mouth. “You are violating direct orders from the police. Get down from there, or we will—”

  “Or you’ll what? Use force to stop a Mag from speaking the truth?”

  “I understand your frustration, young lady, but this isn’t the way.”

  Gemma ignored him. “Are we still going to let Jarl Colburn and his Mag-hating politics rule England? It’s time for Mags to wake up. To rise against the tyranny of humans!”

  The crowd, which by now had grown to the hundreds, cheered. Travers was still trying to get through to Gemma, but his voice had no chance against the roars from the on-lookers.

  “This is about to get ugly,” I said. “It can’t end well.”

  Charlie shook her head. “I agree.”

  Next to us, Jen growled. “I’ve always said that our neighbour fox is missing her marbles!”

  Gemma raised her voice, and it boomed through the square, and likely all the way to the dock and beyond. “It’s time for us Magicals to show the humans who the superior race is!”

  The crowd roared even louder. In the front, two young men shifted suddenly from their human form, both of them turning into cats. But they couldn’t be ordinary cats, as they were much bigger.

  “Lynxes,” Jen said. “Never liked them. They steal our prey.”

  I looked at her, furrowing my forehead. “Considering the situation we’re in, I’ll let it slide, but gross! Whatever you feel about Gemma, however, we have to stop her. She’ll end up in jail.”

  “Or worse,” Charlie said and nodded to our side.

  Echoes of pounding feet and military commands reached us, amplified by the rocky walls and ceiling of The Forge.

  “Last chance, miss,” Travers shouted. “The cavalry is already in the tunnel.”

  Gemma looked to the far end of the market square, to the cobbled street that led to the dock. She sneered at Travers and turned to wave at someone behind her. Two bulky men lumbered forward, dragging and pushing a gagged man between them. They approached the circle of Mags, who opened and let the trio through. Their prisoner kicked wildly, but the men kept moving and climbed the mound to join Gemma.

  She raised the megaphone to her mouth again and pointed to Travers. “Stand your men down, copper, or this piece of human trash gets to know how it feels to be a pig at a barbecue.”

  The crowd went eerily quiet as one of the men picked something from his pocket and held it in the air. He pressed a button, and blue sparks flew from the stun gun. His prisoner tried to scream, but his gag muffled the sound. He shook his head so hard that his black baseball cap fell to the ground. It toppled down to the bottom of the pile, landing flat to display the red lion’s head symbol.

  “We’re sick and tired of being hunted,” Gemma shouted.

  The crowd erupted again, to sound levels that would have impressed Jarl Colburn himself. Several tiny fireballs flew into the air like fireworks, and I spotted a few force fields as well.

  Gemma punched her fist above her head. “No more Harvesters!”

  “No more,” replied the crowd.

  “Are you ready to avenge our fallen?”

  A simultaneous roar of “Yes!” filled the underground cavity.

  “Are you ready for war?”

  “Yes!”

  “My name is Gemma Todd, and I’ll no longer be trampled on by humans!”

  Accompanied by the loudest cheers yet, she dropped the megaphone and kept punching the air while shouting, “No More! No More!”

  The crowd joined in just as riot-armoured police came sprinting out of the tunnel, three lines wide and at least twenty deep. They held their shields in front, and tapped them with their black batons, keeping the rhythm of their black boots.

  Travers jogged towards them, waving his arm from side to side, while he rummaged in his pocket with the other. A bold move, considering he was wearing civilian’s clothes.

  “Stop right there,” shouted a metallic voice.

  Travers had found what he was looking for and held his badge up. Behind him, Gemma and her fellow rebel Mags were still rousing the crowd.

  “We have to save her,” I said. “This is already a tragedy, a battleground, and now it’s turning into a riot.” I loaded two force fields in my palms, not at all sure what I would use them for. But I had to do something.

  “Halt!” shouted the metallic voice.

  The SWAT team stomped their feet three more times and stopped. The boom of their soles echoed throughout the cave. The Forge went dead quiet, as if someone had punched the world’s biggest mute button.

  Travers was talking to one of the police officers. He pointed to Gemma and the crowd, but the other policeman shook his head. Travers hit his right fist into his left palm repeatedly, trying to smash every argument into his colleague.

  “Stay back and let us deal with this ourselves.” Gemma spoke calmly now. “This is a matter for the Mag community. We are under attack, and we have the right to defend ourselves.”

  The SWAT team moved like a single entity, forming a rectangle in front of the mound. A few of the Mags looked nervously from side to side, while others seemed to prepare to attack.

  The police officer Travers had spoken with pressed a button on the front of his armour. “Young lady,” his metallic voice said. “Step down from there and release your hostage. This is not a negotiation.”

  Travers stepped up next to him and cupped his hands again. “I understand your frustration, miss, but this is not the way to deal with—”

  Gemma nodded at the man with the stun gun. He grinned and gave the Harvester a shock. The young man twisted and jerked so hard that he almost rolled down off the mound, but the Mags got hold of him.

  “This is how we deal with Harvesters. You have ten seconds to get out of here and leave The Forge to us Mags. Nine. Eight.”

  “On my command!” the metallic voice said.

  “I’m going in,” I said. “We can’t have a second bloodbath.”

  Jen grabbed my arm. “Don’t bother.”

  “Will you stop your stupid rivalry for one minute? She’s our friend!”

  “No, I mean she’s got other plans. Look.”

  Gemma lowered her hand and pulled the blanket over her head
, before it fell to the ground where she had stood. Gemma was gone. The crowd cheered and clapped.

  Jen chuckled. “Smart move, I’ll give her that.”

  “Did you see where she went?” I asked.

  “Yup. A tiny, amber furball scurried along between the legs of the quite cooperative crowd. She just rounded the corner, heading up the street behind the Avalon. They’ll never find her.”

  “Get out of here,” Travers shouted. “Go back to your houses and let us—”

  “Bugger off, copper!” shouted one Mag still on the mound. He copied Gemma’s fist pounding the air. “Ya want this bastard?”

  Charlie puffed. “What? Oh, no, please don’t!”

  Crap!

  The mob underneath bellowed, and the Mags responded by throwing the young Harvester down from the pile of rocks and gravel. He might have been airborne for only a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity, as if the Blacksmith had come to slow time himself. It was more than enough for me to catch the horror in the Harvester’s eyes as he sailed towards the outstretched arms of the angry mob. And though I had watched him try to take blood from the girl in the street only a few minutes earlier, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. His body disappeared as the enraged Mags threw themselves over him. Nobody deserved such a fate.

  “No!” Charlie screamed.

  “Charge!” shouted the metallic voice of the officer in charge of the SWAT team.

  He opened his mouth to shout more orders, but an old man appeared in front of him, out of thin air. The Jumper grabbed the dumbfounded policeman by the shoulders and smashed his forehead into the copper’s face. The officer remained standing, albeit swaying hard, while the old man slumped to the ground, blood gushing from his nose.

  I started forward, but Jen still held my arm. “Don’t!”

  “I have to stop this!”

  “You can’t. Nobody can!”

  Pulling as hard as I could, Jen kept her grip.

  Charlie embraced me and whispered in my ear, “Do as she says, Ru.”

  Jen gritted her teeth. “Please, before my hands get toasted.”

  I reeled in the heat that was about to burst from my skin. “Sorry!” Heaving for air, I began to relax. “You’re right. It’s just—”