Mags & Nats 3-Book Box Set

by Stephanie Fazio

  “Get the Agent S and come on out of there, baby girl,” A.J. said in a soft voice.

  I realized I was crying and hastily wiped my eyes with a semi-clean corner of my shirt.

  My tears, which had become titanium the moment they left my eyes, turned into solid, silvery balls. They struck the ground with soft thunks, looking like beads resting atop the soil.

  I furiously kicked the offensive tears underneath the dirt. Those gleaming silver tears were just a reminder of my failure…a reminder of another problem I wasn’t able to solve.

  Like I could ever forget.

  I’d destroyed three punching bags just this month out of a lack of more productive means of working off my frustration. If I kept it up, the Alliance would need to add a budget line called Bri blowing off steam.

  I grabbed my shovel and began to dig again. I estimated I had three more feet to go before I reached the crate of Agent S I expected to be buried here.

  Agent S was a strange, green substance that was toxic to everyone and everything…except me. It was also the main ingredient in the Magical Reduction Potion. Ex-Director Edwardian Remwald had planned to use the MRP to force all Mags in the city to go to war against the Nats.

  My shovel struck wood. I carefully extracted the crate of Agent S. Before I bent down to lift it, the crate floated into the air. It landed with a gentle thud at the top of my ten-foot hole.

  “Thanks,” I called up to A.J.

  I pasted on my all is good in the world smile and forced the tension out of my muscles. I didn’t like anyone to see evidence of my weakness, even my best friend. And A.J. had a sixth sense for knowing when someone was upset and trying to hide it. I had to be strong. I had to be…well, steel.

  Chuckling to myself at the tiny witticism, I scooped up Sir Zachary. The dog, who was snuffling around in the dirt and chewing I-didn’t-want-to-know-what, gave me a dirty kiss on the cheek. Cradling him in my arms, I clambered back up the steep wall of the hole.

  A normal person would have slid right back down to the bottom. In my titanium form, I scaled the crumbly surface as easily as a monkey climbing a tree.

  Unlike less powerful Steels, who were made of other metals, my titanium skin was lighter and more flexible. More importantly, there was pretty much nothing that could hurt me when I was in this state. Fire and ice didn’t bother me. A Super Mag having a tantrum had struck me with lightning a few weeks back, and I hadn’t even felt it. Acids and poisons also had no effect.

  It was the reason why I was the only one of the Seven who ever got within touching distance of Agent S. I had learned the hard way that Agent S and cashmere sweaters didn’t mix.

  I was pretty sure Smith would never recover from the scandal of seeing what was likely his first non-digital set of boobs.

  When I got to the top of the hole, I found four other crates waiting beside the one I had unearthed.

  A.J. directed his headlamp on the crates while I pried off the lids.

  Each crate was identical to the ones we’d unearthed from other graves. They all contained rows and rows of glass vials filled with Agent S.

  I’d seen the effects of the MRP firsthand when Cora, Kaira’s sweet youngest cousin, was injected with a syringe full of the potion. I could still see Cora, sitting on a park bench and clutching her pink backpack as she sobbed. Before the Magical Reduction Potion, Cora had been an Inanimate Illusionist. Now, she would never use magic again.

  I lifted one of the vials. The green liquid stuck to the side of the vial that was touching my hand. Even though gravity should have pulled the Agent S down, it stubbornly stayed as close to my body as it could get. It was like we were opposites sides of a magnet.

  For some reason we hadn’t figured out, Agent S was attracted to my titanium skin. It burned through everything else.

  “You better stand back,” I told A.J., who was already putting distance between himself and the crates. He whistled to Sir Zachary, who padded over to him.

  Once they were far enough away, I put the vial back in the crate. Then, I lifted the entire thing and threw it into the grave. I used enough force to deepen the hole several feet. The ground beneath us shuddered slightly from the impact.

  I heard the crack of wood and tinkle of glass as the vials shattered. The green liquid that oozed out sparkled in the moonlight. It hissed and sent up a burst of green-tinged steam as it burned deeper into the ground.

  Since we’d told the rest of Boston about the MRP, the safest way to ensure its key ingredient didn’t wind up in the wrong hands was to destroy it.

  Whoever was going after the Super Mags’ magic somehow had access to the Magical Reduction Potion. One criminal playing God in our city was one too many.

  I threw the next crate down, and then the next, and the next.

  Past experience had taught me that if I was too close to the Agent S when it was released from its vial, it would cling to my titanium skin and refuse to let go. That was how I’d discovered I was as ticklish in my titanium form as I was in regular skin…and inadvertently revealed my greatest weakness to all of my friends.

  “What do you think, hon?” A.J. asked, as he refilled the grave without so much as touching a shovel. The particles of dirt just zoomed back into the hole at lightning speed. “On to the next cemetery?”

  I nodded, bowing under the crushing weight that had settled on my shoulders. I knew what we’d find at the next cemetery…the same we’d found in the twenty graves we’d already dug up.

  “We’re going to solve this mystery,” A.J. promised me as he tucked an arm around my waist. “We’re going to find those slaves and figure out exactly what happened to Lilly.”

  Sir Zachary wagged his tail and nuzzled against my leg.

  I only wished I shared their optimism.

  ✽✽✽

  A.J. stifled a yawn as we got out of the van. I was instantly awash with guilt. I was dragging A.J. all over Boston to dig up graves, when he should be catching up on some much-needed sleep.

  “I’m sorry,” I began, but A.J. waved away my apology.

  “Nonsense,” he said. “Fresh air is good for the complexion.”

  We followed the path until we reached the first grave on the printout Smith had given me.

  A prickling sense of unease climbed up my spine as I looked at the grave.

  I glanced at Sir Zachary to see if anything seemed off to him. He was avidly watching an earthworm as it wriggled back into the dirt.

  I didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean we were alone. The cemetery was bathed in shadows that flickered and took on a life of their own. I turned my face into the wind. That was when I caught a smell I’d gotten so used to it hadn’t registered at first.

  Freshly-dug earth.

  It hadn’t rained recently, and there was no reason for the smell to be so strong, unless—

  A.J. let out a muted protest when I pulled off his miner’s helmet and pointed the lamp onto the grave.

  The light left no room for debate. Someone had already been here.

  A.J. toed a small pile of dirt the gravedigger hadn’t bothered to push back into place. “What are the odds?”

  “Of someone randomly digging up a grave that’s been here for three years?” I chuckled darkly. “Nil.”

  I shone A.J.’s light all around the area. On my second sweep of the light, I caught a glimpse of something peeking out of the dirt. Hurrying forward, I grasped the tiny paper before the wind caught it.

  It was a gum wrapper. Fire-hot cinnamon flavor, according to the label.

  I pocketed the wrapper, because I didn’t feel like getting one of A.J.’s lectures about littering. Finding no other clues about who might have been here and why, I grabbed my shovel and got to work.

  It went quickly, thanks to the dirt being loose from whoever had already been here and A.J.’s shovel working steadily beside me. Even Sir Zachary helped, although his little paws didn’t accomplish much.

  A few seconds later, A.J.’s shovel hit the
biohazard container. It was higher up in the hole than it should have been—maybe only a couple of feet. A quick examination of the container showed that it hadn’t been disturbed.

  A.J.’s announcement of “Nothing here except environmentally unfriendly plastic,” came just as my shovel hit the edge of the Agent S crate. Again, it wasn’t buried as deeply as the ones in the other graves had been.

  As soon as I lifted the crate, my stomach plummeted. It was light.

  Too light.

  I knew even before I wrenched off the lid what I’d find inside.

  The crate was empty.

  CHAPTER 4

  It took us an hour to investigate all eight remaining graves on our list. Every single one of them had already been dug up. And their crates of Agent S were empty.

  There were no other clues about who had dug up the graves, but it was obvious the Agent S-robber had known what they were doing. None of the other graves in the cemetery had been disturbed. That meant our thief had known exactly which graves to target.

  My mind was a whirlwind of unanswered questions.

  By the time A.J., Sir Zachary, and I got home, it was close to midnight. Despite the late hour, the mansion was bustling with activity.

  When we’d moved in, I had been less than thrilled about taking up residence in Edwardian Remwald’s old home. I’d proceeded to change my tune when I learned I was getting my own bathroom…with heated floors and fog-proof mirrors.

  Sir Zachary made a beeline for the kitchen, where a warm, yeasty smell was wafting. Yutika had made a dog bed for Sir Zachary next to the refrigerator, since he spent so much time in the kitchen with Ma.

  “Bri Hammond!” The booming voice was accompanied by a hard thump on my back.

  Adam, Graysen’s crew teammate, shook out his hand as he gave me a sheepish look. “Ow. I always forget how hard your skin is.”

  “So sorry.” I blew on my fists, transforming my body back to regular skin before I slapped him on the back in return.

  I could transform without blowing on my fists, but it took more concentration. In nature, oxygen made titanium brittle. When combined with magic, the oxygen in my breath made it easier to activate and deactivate the hardness of my titanium skin. Plus, it looked cool.

  I felt my magic retreat back inside me. It hid just beneath the surface, waiting patiently until I called on it again.

  Now that I was back in my regular skin, I couldn’t keep from shivering. The house was heated, but not well enough for my choice of tank top and cut-off jeans.

  “How do you manage to be so pretty even when you’re covered in dirt?” Adam asked, batting his eyes at me. He sat back down at the long kitchen table with the rest of his crew team and Kaira’s two cousins.

  “Flirt.” I grinned at him.

  My appearance could best be described as cute. My blonde hair and hazel eyes were nice enough, but I had none of Kaira’s head-turning effect. If she were to walk into the room right now, all of the crew guys would be picking their jaws off the floor.

  My round face and five-foot-two-in-heels height made me look younger than my twenty years. It was why I chose outfits that accentuated my decidedly-adult physique. I also made sure my hair and makeup were always pristine—well, when I wasn’t digging up graves.

  “Bri isn’t into you,” Desiree, the older of Kaira’s two cousins, informed Adam bluntly.

  “That’s okay,” Adam told her. “I’m just killing time until you get old enough to date.”

  Desiree rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was happy with the compliment. If she’d actually been offended, we would have been deluged by one of her rain storms.

  Yutika had created all of the furniture in the house with Desiree in mind. There was a great deal of vinyl and waterproof lacquer.

  It had been a strange few months living with Desiree. Not long ago, she had joined the UnAllied and almost gotten us killed. She was also the reason why Cora was now magic-less.

  The rest of the Hansley clan was still working to repair what Desiree had broken. I wasn’t Desiree’s biggest fan, but I had to admit she seemed to be really trying to make amends. She was still moody and difficult, but she wasn’t as angry as she’d been. Strangely enough, she’d been spending a lot of time with the Super Mags. Those interactions seemed to be doing more for her maturity than anything else.

  Adam winked at me before going back to his conversation with the crew guys.

  Just six months ago, a Nat flirting with a Mag would have been unthinkable. But that just went to show how much the city had changed in a short time. Plus, Mag or Nat aside, he had a great body.

  Adam and I had fooled around…twice. The first time, we’d blamed the lackluster experience on a few too many of A.J.’s mango margaritas. After the second time, when we’d both been sober and gone a whole lot farther than just kissing, we’d accepted there was no spark between us.

  Adam had been more puzzled by the revelation than I. Guys liked me, and I liked them back. The only problem was that it never went much further than that.

  There was never any fire or passion. Never any of those looks that I caught Graysen and Kaira making at each other.

  “What are you up to?” I asked the crew guys, as I doled out high-fives and fist-bumps.

  “Oh, you know,” Adam said absently. “Helping Cora study.”

  “Yeah right.” Cora, Kaira’s youngest cousin, giggled. She was sitting between two of the guys with books spread out in front of her. She was definitely studying, but the guys seemed more intent on distracting than helping.

  Graysen’s crew friends spent most of their weekends at the mansion. According to them, they came to help with any Alliance grunt work. And to advise the new Directors, since—as the guys liked to constantly and humorously point out—neither Kaira nor Graysen were college grads.

  We all knew the real reason behind the crew guys’ magnanimous presence. They came for Ma’s cooking.

  Ma Hansley, Kaira’s mother, had taken on the challenge of cooking for everyone in the mansion. The more mouths she had to feed, the happier she was.

  “How’s it coming, Cora?” I asked the younger girl, giving one of her braids a playful tug.

  “Not the best.” She frowned at her open textbook. “I can’t get my practice test scores higher than 265.”

  “You will,” I assured her.

  Cora was only thirteen, but she was determined to ace the Nat entrance exam for the Boston School of Magical Unity. After she’d been injected with the Magical Reduction Potion and lost her magic, she’d put all of her efforts into studying for the BSMU’s entrance exam for Nats.

  I gave Cora a one-armed hug, conscious of the dirt covering my bare arms.

  I waved hello to Kaira’s Grandma Tashi and Smith’s father, Oliver. They were both sitting on barstools and looking at a large art book. Neither of them was especially friendly, but they both became downright chatty when they got to talking about art together. Smith thought it was weird. I thought it was sweet.

  The rest of the Seven were gathered in our official meeting room…otherwise known as the family room. There were three large couches that were big and comfortable enough to sleep on, as well as several love seats that were upgrades of the bean bag chairs we’d had in our old house. A fire crackled in the grate. Old-fashioned Tiffany lamps were perched on every end table. The air also smelled like vanilla, thanks to the candles I’d bought during a recent online shopping spree. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked out onto the sprawling lawn were tinted, so we could see out but no one else could see in. The glass was also bullet-proof. I could punch through it, but it would take several hits.

  Yutika and Michael were cuddling together on one couch. Yutika was busy sketching something that could have been a car or a new toy for Sir Zachary—it was impossible to tell until her drawing actually turned into whatever she’d wanted it to be.

  Smith was sitting on the love seat that Yutika had made especially for him. It had a built-in desk
that allowed him to work on three laptops at the same time. There was even a cup holder for his cans of grape soda, which he drank like water.

  Kaira and Graysen were on one of the other couches. Graysen was lying with his head in Kaira’s lap as he scanned a law textbook with tiny print and way too many pages. Kaira was typing on a tablet with one hand, while idly running her fingers through Graysen’s hair with the other.

  “Hail the conquering warriors,” Yutika said when she caught sight of us.

  I pushed past my failure-laden exhaustion and offered up a grin.

  A.J. kicked off his loafers and settled onto the couch next to Michael. Not wanting to get my grime all over the furniture, I just plopped on the floor.

  “How’d it go?” Kaira asked, putting down her tablet and giving us her full attention.

  Graysen sat up and rolled his shoulders, wincing a little. Kaira wasn’t even looking in his direction, but she reached for the ibuprofen and glass of water on the table for him. His lupus was clearly acting up.

  I still couldn’t believe the two of them were married. It was just such a grownup thing to do. Although, compared to everything else they’d achieved, marriage seemed like less of a big deal.

  “We’ve got a problem,” I said.

  That got everyone’s attention. Even Smith looked up from his computers.

  Quickly, I filled them in on what A.J. and I had found at the cemetery.

  “Do you think it’s our magic ripper?” Kaira asked.

  “Or someone working for the magic ripper,” Graysen added.

  “Or a copycat,” Smith pointed out. “Or someone totally unrelated. A gum wrapper isn’t exactly enough evidence to start making arrests.”

  The man had a point. If I’d known whose door to bang down, I wouldn’t have let the pesky problem of evidence stand in my way. I cracked my knuckles.

  “Ughhh,” Kaira groaned. “We were so close to getting the Super Mags to fully trust us before this MRP-wielding fool got in our way.”