Magic on the Storm

by Devon Monk

  “Breathe,” Zayvion said. “Allie. Breathe.”

  Oh. No wonder why it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was holding my breath. I exhaled, but it didn’t do anything to stop the panic. I inhaled too quickly, sucking in more panic than air, and the sound of my gasp only made things worse. I was going to die. Crushed. Smothered, suffocated.

  In a damn elevator.

  Zay took one step closer to me and a tight whine slipped out between my teeth.

  “Don’t,” I squeaked, “don’t, oh, sweethellsplease don’t.” If he got any closer, I’d run out of air. I’d freaking snap and scream my fool head off, then pound my way through those walls and into fresh air.

  He didn’t step closer. He reached out and pressed his fingertips down on my shoulder. Mint, cool, soothing, and familiar, washed through me. I didn’t think Grounding was going to do anything for panic.

  But my shoulders lowered away from my ears, I unclenched my jaw, and I managed to swallow that kicked-puppy whimper coming out of my mouth.

  The bell pinged, and I waited an eternity, two, three. Then finally, finally, the doors opened.

  I was out of there faster than a sprinter on fire. I didn’t look where I was going. I didn’t care. Away was all I wanted. Far away. And my feet were plenty happy to oblige.

  I jogged only about ten steps before logic kicked back in, and I stopped.

  Zay was still near the elevator, his hands loose at his sides. The casual observer wouldn’t notice it, but I trained with him. I knew when he held his wrist at that angle, he was half a thought away from casting a whole lot of magic.

  I stuck my hands in my pockets and started back toward him, blowing my breath out in a thin stream to try to stop the ringing in my ears.

  “The car?” I asked, all dignified like I hadn’t just been running away like a scared little girl.

  “That way.” He tipped his head to indicate the parking structure behind him.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled as soon as I was beside him.

  “Don’t be. It’s kind of cute.”

  Lovely. Just what I want to be. Cute.

  “Bite me, Jones.”

  “Anytime.” He grinned.

  We headed along the narrow concrete walkway that took us down into the parkade.

  “Where’s Davy’s car?” he asked.

  “Down a level. How did it happen?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Greyson’s escape. Maeve said he was safe there. Said that cage couldn’t be broken or breached. How did it happen?”

  “We don’t know yet. The spells in place to record the area were tapped, tripped, and disabled.”

  “Hold on. The ancient order of powerful magic users who can make magic do anything they want got screwed by someone hacking their wards? Why wasn’t there a camera in there? Why wasn’t someone guarding him?”

  “No cameras because we don’t want any kind of recorded information about the well, Maeve’s place, or Greyson. No cameras because magic has always been enough.”

  “Common sense. Would it hurt you to use it like the rest of us mortals?”

  “You sound like your dad.”

  “Nice.”

  “His ideas for how magic should be regulated weren’t all bad.”

  “So you have a man crush on the man I spent most of my life hating?”

  “I didn’t say I liked him. I said he had common sense when it came to magic. Backup systems, technological support, hands-on—he believed it could all go together, work together, instead of being sectioned and divided. Magic used by the few, technology used by the masses.”

  “Common sense didn’t keep him from being murdered.”

  Zay fell silent. That brought us full circle. Greyson was one of the people who had killed my father back when Greyson had been a man working for the Authority. As far as anyone in the Authority could figure it, the murder was a multiple-person, complicated job. James Hoskil, my dad’s ex-business partner’s son, had been involved. And so had Cody, the gifted but mentally limited Hand my friend Nola had taken in to live on her farm in Burns, off the grid, and out of reach of magic.

  There were probably more people involved. We still didn’t know who.

  A man leaned against Zay’s car. I’d expected Shame, but this man was taller, his white hair a beacon beneath the fluorescent light.

  “Hey, Terric,” I said. “What brings you out?”

  “An escaped Necromorph. You?”

  “Injured Hound.”

  “Shame with you?” I asked. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished I could take them back.

  Terric frowned, and brushed the side of his nose.

  “He’s with Chase. Hunting.”

  I glanced at Zayvion, who opened the driver’s-side door. “Get in. We need to get you somewhere safe.”

  I got in. Not because I was going to let them drop me off somewhere out of their way, but because it was cold and dark, and I preferred to win my arguments where there was a heater and comfortable leg room.

  Terric slid into the backseat. It was a little strange to have someone other than Shame back there. Since I didn’t know him very well, I distrusted him on principle. But Zay was perfectly comfortable with the man. Like he’d just had a work buddy return after a long absence.

  “So who decided it’s a good idea to let Chase hunt her boyfriend?” I asked.

  The muscle in Zay’s jaw clenched. Sore subject.

  Terric answered. “She’s one of the best people to look for him, don’t you think?”

  From how she was acting back at Maeve’s I didn’t think that was at all true. “I doubt she likes the idea of seeing him put back in a cage.”

  “Maybe not,” he said. “But she knows that the Authority are the only people who might be able to help him.”

  “Or kill him,” I said.

  “That too. What is life without risk?”

  “Long?”

  Terric laughed, a sort of high whooping that made me—and Zayvion, much to my surprise—smile. Contagious. For all he had a serious exterior, Terric was the guy you’d want to sit next to at a funny movie, just to hear him laugh.

  “So are either of you going to tell me why I can’t come on the hunt?”

  “You need to be safe,” Zay repeated. Man did one-track mind like no one’s business.

  “And where do you suggest my safety will be found?”

  “Maeve’s.”

  “You mean the place Greyson broke out of?”

  “With people guarding you,” he went on over my remark. “There will be a new cage constructed for him. And if he comes to you—”

  “Hold up. I’m bait?”

  “Allie—”

  “You have got to be kidding me. I’d be safer at home.” I didn’t say with my gargoyle because only Zay, Shame, and I knew the big lug had decided my apartment was his den, nest, quarry, whatever it was that gargoyles called home.

  “No, you’ll be safer at Maeve’s,” he said.

  “You can’t tell me what to do.” Wow. I sounded just like Davy. Just like Jack. Spoonful of my own medicine. Yuck.

  “I’m not telling you what to do,” Zay said. “This is a direct order from Maeve.”

  “Oh, for fuck sake. I’m an adult. Maeve is my teacher, not my mother.”

  “You have met Mrs. Flynn?” Terric said from the backseat.

  Just what I needed, another smart mouth in the car.

  “You have to listen to her,” Zay said. “Because she is your teacher. Until you are done training under her, she has say about where you should be in the event of magical emergencies.”

  “Was that in the contract I signed? Oh, no, wait. There was no contract.”

  “No, there was a test and a vow.” Zay’s voice didn’t rise, but I could tell by how hard he was gripping the steering wheel that he was not a happy man. “If you break that, you are out of the Authority.”

  It had been at least two months since Zay had had to remind me of that. Still,
it chafed. I hated knowing that one perceived misstep would mean my memories, and all the training I’d done, would be gone out of my head. Hells, if they wanted to, they could make me forget who I was. Take away everything.

  If I kept training, if I gave in this time, I knew I would become strong enough that they’d never be able to mess with my memories.

  The soft moth-wing flutter tickled the backs of my eyes. I actually rubbed my eyes trying to make it go away until I remembered it wasn’t some kind of weird muscle twitch. It was my dad, in my head, reminding me that he was there.

  We could be so much, he whispered. So powerful together. Life and death. Light and darkness. And all magic will be ours.

  The only thing worse than my dad being in my head was him getting all creepy and poetical on me. I ignored him.

  Zay had taken us down the twists of Terrwilliger Boulevard, and we were now headed into town, toward I-5 North.

  “Where are Shame and Chase?” I asked.

  “Hunting,” Zay answered.

  “No, I mean where? Which part of town do you think Greyson’s in? You don’t think he made it across the bridge to Portland, do you? Do you think he could have made it downtown to Chapman Square?”

  “He’s a Necromorph. He doesn’t have to use just his feet to get around.”

  “So he could be in Chapman Square?”

  Zay’s nostrils flared. “Why?”

  “Someone opened a gate in the park, closed it, and crushed the spell so all traces of it would disintegrate within a half an hour. I thought I caught Greyson’s scent. It was faint. I don’t think he’s still there, if he ever was, but something happened there. Maybe around the same time he escaped.”

  Both men were dead silent. I tried not to look smug, because frankly, I was more aggravated than smug.

  “I’m taking you to Maeve’s. Then we’ll look,” Zayvion said.

  “And I’m just going to wait at Maeve’s for days until you find him?”

  “Allie, don’t,” Zay warned.

  “Listen, when Greyson was on the street before, you said people in the Authority were looking for him for months. Who found him?”

  Nothing.

  “Me,” I said. “I found him.”

  “No, he found you,” Zay said.

  “Okay. He found me. So why not let me go out and find him this time? Let me be the hunter instead of the bait.”

  Terric spoke. “Taking you to Maeve’s is a form of hunting. We’re setting the trap, and he’ll come for you.”

  Unlike Shame, who always stuck his head between Zay and me, Terric lounged, one arm over the back of the seat, half tucked against the corner of the door, his leg stretched out on the seat in front of him.

  “He’s not going to come for me there,” I said. “Not at Maeve’s. Not where there are magic users and the well, and the cage he just escaped. He might eventually be desperate enough to break back into his prison to get me. How long will that take? Weeks?”

  Neither man said anything.

  “He’s not stupid,” I added.

  Still the silence.

  “He remembers being in the Authority. He remembered my father, remembered how to used Blood magic and Death magic, and even bound Tomi and used her to cast those spells for him to hurt Davy and open those damn gates, and whatever the hell else he did. He is nowhere dumb enough to walk back into the place he escaped. Not even to get me.”

  Terric made a little huh sound.

  Zay just looked angry. “What do you expect us to do?” It came out with enough volume, I knew he was pissed. Long fuse didn’t mean the man never blew. “Do you want us to stand you out on a street corner with a sign?”

  My shoulders tightened and I swallowed the need to yell back. Instead, I let a little silence soften the space between us, mostly so I could act calm. “Yes. I think something like that is a good idea. But we could be a little more subtle about it.”

  “An ambush?” Terric mused. “It has merit.”

  “No,” Zay said.

  “I won’t be safe at Maeve’s,” I said for the millionth time. “Not really. It would just stall his attack.”

  “No,” he said again.

  I didn’t say anything. Neither did Terric.

  I watched the city roll by and did my own share of controlling my urge to yell. Dad pushed at the backs of my eyes, not hard, but enough to annoy. Like I’d let down my guard now.

  “I will do this, Zay,” I said. “If not today with you, Terric, Shame, and Chase, then sometime later, on my own. I’ll hunt him down. I’ll face him. I’ll make him pay for what he’s done. Do I think I’d be stronger with you there? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m not plenty strong enough on my own.”

  “She’s right,” Terric said. “Let it go.”

  Zay, that remarkable man, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. With it, he seemed to exhale his anger. It was probably one of the most amazing things I’d seen him do, and I’d seen him do a lot of amazing things. I sucked at letting go of anger. Maybe all that Zen training of his gave him a better control over his emotions.

  Yeah, well, that and the fact he had to be calm and centered to work all disciplines of magic. Guardian of the Gates. There was no one else as good at wielding magic as he. And the Authority hung their hope of keeping magic in the right hands, and used in the right ways—for good and life, not for destruction and death—squarely across his broad shoulders.

  A responsibility he bore without complaint.

  “Call Maeve and let her know,” Zay said.

  “I’ll do that.” Terric dialed.

  I reached over for Zay’s hand, but he pulled away. He didn’t look at me, just straight ahead, as if driving suddenly took all his concentration.

  “Maeve?” Terric said. “There’s been a slight change of plans.”

  “You know I’m right,” I said while Terric talked.

  “No. I don’t.” He pressed his lips together, as if he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it.

  “Zay—”

  “Are you wearing the void stone?” he asked. All business now. No emotion. Okay, he was still angry at me. Too bad.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to carry a weapon?” Flat.

  “Of course I want weapons. Did you think I was going to take him on with my bare hands?”

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m thinking you might have a machete I can use.” I said sweetly.

  “It’s in the trunk. We’re meeting Shame. You can get it then.”

  Terric hung up. “Well, that was interesting. Your teacher does not approve of the change in plans, but she understands our point. She’s sending out some people to double-check Chapman Square.”

  “She’s not going to throw me out of the Authority for this?” I asked.

  “She is giving you one chance, until morning, to draw Greyson in. If he doesn’t show up, you are to be taken to Maeve’s, where you will be under constant observation, or you will be taken to your apartment, where you will be under constant observation.”

  “Nice to know I have options.”

  “You’re welcome to try to negotiate with Maeve if you want,” he offered.

  Right. Shut up, Allie. This was as good as it was going to get. And if we did this right, if we were very lucky, we might be able to take care of this problem tonight.

  A dizzy flux of magic washed through me again. I broke out in a cold sweat and wiped at the top of my lip. I glanced at Zay, but if he noticed, he didn’t show it. The storm was coming, rolling closer, messing with magic, messing with me. I knew tonight would be our best chance to take Greyson down.

  Chapter Twelve

  We drove to the meeting point, a twenty-four-hour diner and truck stop. Shame’s car was parked near the gravel back of the lot. Neither Shame nor Chase was beside the car. There wasn’t enough light for me to make out who was inside it. Zayvion stopped the car several parking spaces away.

  �
��Coffee?” Terric asked.

  “Please,” I said, “black.” I dug in my pocket for cash.

  “I got it. Zayvion?”

  “No thanks.”

  “Back in a moment, then.” Terric slipped out and headed to the restaurant without a glance at Shame’s car.

  Right. They didn’t want to be around each other. Zay and I were currently fighting, Terric and Shame had been avoiding each other for years, and not only was Chase Zay’s ex-girlfriend, but also, the guy she dumped him for was the murderer we were about to hunt down.

  For cripes’ sake. Could we be any more dysfunctional?

  “Zay?”

  “I need some air.” He got out, slammed the door, and started walking toward Shame’s car.

  He was just the lord of pissy tonight, wasn’t he? Fine. I was done apologizing for being right, for being strong, for being me. If he couldn’t deal with it, then too damn bad.

  I got out of the car. Noticed, in a distracted way, that it was sprinkling. Started over to tell Zay to suck it up and deal.

  Zay slowed. He stopped, bent, and looked in the back driver’s-side window.

  Something was wrong.

  I moved faster. “What?” I asked.

  He held up his hand to tell me to stop, and I did. Strong, stubborn, capable, yes. Stupid, no.

  He opened the driver’s-side door. An arm fell out of the door and Zayvion leaned in to catch the rest of the body that followed.

  Shamus.

  I jogged the remaining distance, around the other side of the car to see if Chase was in the other seat. I looked in. Nobody. I opened the door and the stink of used magic hit me so hard, I had to turn my head to take a breath.

  I recited my mantra and set a Disbursement, muscle aches one more time. I was going to be a head-to-toe cramp once all these deferred prices hit me. I traced the glyphs for Sight, Smell, and Taste. My senses burst open. Magic had been used inside the car. The ashy remains of Impact stuck like a huge brown and red spider, pulsing against the upholstery of the roof. An overpowering mix of so many other conflicting scents made me think someone had cast an extra spell full of scents just to throw off any attempts to Hound. There were too many smells to sort quickly, if at all. In those smells I caught the edge of Shame’s blood and a hint of sweet cherry. Blood magic?