Darkling Mage BoxSet

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Darkling Mage BoxSet Page 32

by Nazri Noor


  “They’re just kids,” I said, keeping still so I wouldn’t rustle the bushes we were staking out from. “Maybe we should have scouted first.”

  “No time, remember? And Carver specifically said he didn’t want you doing that. You might think shadowstepping can let you slip in and out like butter wherever you want, but you never know when the place could be warded. What if you get in, and you can’t get out?”

  I stared at him incredulously, then pointed at the veranda. “This isn’t a cult. It’s a kegger. Those are children in there. Do you really think they know what they’re doing?”

  “Shh. Shut up. Wait for the signal. It’s almost time.”

  I watched the sun as it beat overhead, biting back the urge to complain about the stifling heat. We were both dressed in black, just to make sure the infiltration would go down well, and Gil had even painted a couple of black stripes under his eyes. He said it was to help keep him hidden, but I totally knew he did it to look cool. I was kind of jealous, honestly.

  I watched the ring at my finger, impatience stirring in my belly. The ring was a loaner from Carver, and the amber gem set in it was supposed to be our go signal. When it glowed, it was time to activate Amaterasu’s mirror. Activate is a strong word since I wasn’t even sure how to work the thing, but as Carver so elegantly explained, it was so easy that even a trained monkey could do it. “And that monkey would probably know how to throw fireballs, too,” he added, side-eyeing me as he said it.

  And okay, I know that I probably should have slightly more reservations about wearing enchanted jewelry that I didn’t make myself. I’d worn one of Thea’s opals for the better part of a month. I didn’t know that it was designed to warp my brain and make me more susceptible to her suggestions, giving the gem a minor but insidious form of mind control. But again, I could sense that Carver was actually trying to help me. Call it a hunch, but I knew on instinct that he wasn’t quite prepping to cut my heart out on a sacrificial altar.

  The gem pulsed, glowing at my finger like a bauble filling with fire. That was the signal.

  “Go,” Gil said, tugging the hood of his jacket over his head. “Now.”

  I pulled Amaterasu’s mirror out of my pocket and raised it to the sky, reflective side up. I stared at it, then narrowed my eyes as I peered at the clouds, wondering what was supposed to happen.

  The sun went out. That’s what happened, much faster than I was prepared for. The mirror acted as a magnet, drawing the day into it. At first the sun came to me in faint beams, but those quickly turned into laser-focused flares of solar brilliance. The mirror was heating up, and fast.

  “I’m going to die,” I grunted, grimacing as the mirror went from the temperature of warm glass to the screeching fire of a blacksmith’s forge.

  “Don’t let go,” Gil said, his eyes reflecting the sun’s rays as Amaterasu’s mirror fed on the light, his mouth half open in a mix of awe and terror. He wasn’t sure this was supposed to be happening, either, but I knew in my gut that letting go of the mirror would have been the wrong thing to do.

  The last rays of sunlight coalesced into a blazing spire of flame as they entered the mirror, slamming into the relic with such force and finality that it threw me off my feet. The bushes rustled as I fell flat on the grass, like an asshole. I blinked at the sky. It was pitch-dark, like midnight.

  From the compound I heard murmured “Oohs” and “Ahs” of wonder as phone cameras clicked. The kids who made up the Viridian Dawn were bickering over whether this was an eclipse or an equinox. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of something like a burst of flame. The foliage rustled, and out stepped Carver, with Sterling in tow.

  “Well done, Graves,” Carver said, tugging on his leather glove. He was still dressed in a suit, the only real difference being that he’d selected a black shirt for the occasion. I didn’t know how he expected to conduct an infiltration in an expensive British cut, but you had to admit, the man had style.

  Sterling tutted. “Sleeping on the job? Come on, Dusty. There’s work to be done.”

  I scowled, hoping that the ambient starlight was enough to show Sterling my expression.

  “Die in a fire,” I muttered.

  Gil offered me his hand, pulling me effortlessly to my feet. I winced at the pain in my chest. Carver had actually done a fantastic job of putting me back together again, but I was still sore. Magic is magic, but being ripped open at the chest takes a little bit of recovery, let’s be real. I tucked Amaterasu’s mirror – now gone cold and dim – into my jacket, flexing my fingers, peering at my skin. Huh. I wasn’t burned, after all. Small mercies.

  I brushed blades of grass off my jeans – black ones, don’t worry, no stains here – and widened my strides to catch up with the others. But I noticed that Carver was walking ahead of us. Far ahead.

  “Wait,” I hissed. “Carver. Hey.”

  He was just walking up to the gaggle of kids outside on the veranda. These guys were in their twenties, at least, so maybe it was better for me to stop thinking of them as children. Innocents had died because of them. Still, I wondered if they deserved whatever Carver had in store for him. I called out to him again.

  Carver looked over his shoulder, his face unbothered, but his pace still brisk. “What is it, Graves?” He was speaking at full volume. Wasn’t he worried about alerting the cultists?

  I said as much. “You’re too loud. And quick. I thought we were trying to be subtle?”

  Sterling snorted. I looked to Gil for support, but he said nothing. Carver lifted a hand, the amber gems on his fingers glowing. He waved in a languid, dismissive gesture, and a section of gate bent in on itself. Sterling and Gil walked on through the opening, unperturbed, treading over the twisted remains of the fence, and I followed, mouth agape. Those kids were going to die.

  “Is he going to kill them? Sterling, dude, listen – ”

  Sterling kept walking. The men finally noticed us, Carver’s hand burning like a beacon in the darkness.

  “Hey, how’d you get in here?” the tallest one said. He was reaching into his pocket, as were the others. “You can’t just walk in. What do you think you’re – ”

  Carver waved his hand, and miniature gouts of pale fire streamed from his fingers, each one forcing its way down a cultist’s mouth. They gasped, then choked, clutching at their throats. Then as one, they slumped to the ground, motionless.

  “Pah,” he muttered, cracking his knuckles. “Children.”

  “Holy shit,” I hissed. “Carver, you killed them. You killed them all.”

  “They should have thought of that before they became terrorists.”

  I wrenched at my hair, panic mounting in my chest. “Carver, be serious, how are we going to cover this all up?”

  Sterling rolled his eyes, then fixed me with a bladed look. Carver finally stopped walking, sighing as he turned to me, his face creased with a sullen expression.

  “As much as I would like to leave a trail of corpses in my wake, this is no longer an age in which sorcerers can murder without repercussion. As much as I detest the concept of the Veil, I acknowledge that it has its advantages. I do not want normals banging down Mama Rosa’s door wielding torches and pitchforks. These fools are merely asleep.”

  Sterling made a small grumbling sound. Gil bent down to inspect one of the bodies. Looking closer, I could see the rise and fall of the cultist’s stomach as he breathed. I said nothing.

  “What you need to understand, Graves, is that there may be casualties in our line of work. If it’s for the greater good, then I don’t see the problem in killing half a dozen parasites upon society if it means we end up saving more in the process.”

  Sterling rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck, his joints popping. “Awesome. So we have free rein?”

  Carver raised a hand and clicked his tongue. “No deaths.”

  A faint twinge of disappointment passed over Sterling’s face. “But can I at least stop for a snack? Circumstances permitting.” />
  Gil chuckled. Carver rolled his eyes. I stared at each of them in turn, mouth still open at how casually they were discussing hurting other people. I mean, I’ve had to knock people out before and stuff, but that was all for defense and self-preservation. Right?

  “You may bleed them, and you may break their bones if you must. But work silently.” Carver raised a finger. “And no deaths.”

  Sterling grinned, his fangs gleaming in the starlight. “Noted.” He streaked into the compound, a blur of silver and leather.

  Gil shrugged. “He gets excited. I mean this is like a buffet for him, you know?”

  The screams started immediately.

  “I’m glad he gets to have fun. It happens so rarely.” Carver adjusted his cuff. “Gilberto, kill the power.”

  Gil nodded, then ran off into the house. Carver leveled me with his gaze.

  “Find the Codex. Hurt anyone who stands in your way.”

  Chapter 15

  The house was a bloodbath by the time I moved in, at least from what I could make out in the darkness. From the floor below I could hear yowls of pain as Sterling and Gil cut a swath through the bowels of the compound. Carver had instructed me to jump ahead, to scout for the group. We put out the sun for three reasons, after all: to blind the Viridian Dawn, to give Sterling room to fight with us, and to turn the entirety of our target location into my playground.

  I stepped carefully through the darkness, watchful of the ring on my finger. Carver told me that he had opened a two-way link on it, allowing me to contact him if I needed to, but considering the sheer comfort and safety of the shadows, I was confident I wouldn’t have to turn to him for help.

  Navigating the second floor was simple enough. Your eyes get accustomed to the darkness, or maybe mine did from spending so much time in low light conditions, whether it was at the hideout, or operating for Carver under cover of night. I suspected that my connection to the Dark Room might have even granted me some ability to see better in the dark.

  Yet all that I could see in the house left me somewhat underwhelmed. I was expecting the Viridian Dawn’s base to be, I don’t know, more threatening somehow. Maybe the fact that it didn’t look so dangerous should have made me warier in general, but level two just felt like any old living room. Well, if you didn’t count the sound of men screaming through the floorboards.

  This was easy. Too easy. Surely they had to have people posted as guards up here as well. It was stupid, and almost definitely suspicious.

  A ring of pale fire appeared by my feet, and I leapt back in shock, biting my tongue to stop from shouting. A body formed, feet first, inside the ring, and really, you’d think by then I’d have been used to seeing Carver teleport, but I was jumpy, okay? Who knew what the Viridian Dawn had in store for us.

  The last of the flames licked at Carver’s suit, then died away. He adjusted his tie, smoothing at the creases in his clothes, eyes still gleaming ocher.

  “Anything interesting up here?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “Which has me worried, if I’m honest.”

  Carver scoffed. “These people are amateurs, just idiots who somehow laid their hands on a stock of magical items. Gil and Sterling are slicing through their ranks like – ”

  “A hot knife through butter?”

  Carver blinked at me. “Yes. That is an acceptable comparison.”

  “You have a thing when it comes to normals, you know that? It’s like, you don’t want them dead, not exactly, but you seem happy enough to shed some blood.”

  He pretended to examine his fingernails as more screams emanated from the lower floors, as bumps and crashes signaled that Sterling and Gil were making their way up to us.

  “And you need to be a little less sensitive about roughing them up. The human body is resilient. The mind, not so much.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that sometimes subtlety works best for incapacitation. It isn’t only about hurling fireballs and lightning bolts. It’s why I prefer defensive magic. It doesn’t drain me as much, lets me save my power for when I truly need it. A well-placed sleep spell works just as nicely. A fear spell would, too. Or one of madness.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Shush. Here comes the cavalry.”

  Gil was thumping his way to the top of the stairs, but Sterling had already beaten him to it, somehow moving faster, yet more silently than any human – or werewolf – could manage.

  Sterling’s skin was rosier, an effect of all the blood he’d consumed. I didn’t need to look too closely to find out, though, considering he still had some on his chin. I cringed, but I gestured at my own mouth.

  “You’ve got something on your – yeah, right there.”

  He wiped the offending splatter away with his thumb, then sucked it. I cringed harder. Gil looked about normal, apart from the sheen of sweat on his skin. His knuckles and fingers weren’t bloodied.

  “You didn’t go dog?”

  “Didn’t need to,” Gil said, his breath hoarse, skin flushed from the thrill of battle. “It was pitch-dark down there. Those kids didn’t stand a chance. I think we took out about a dozen.”

  “Fourteen, actually,” Sterling said. He burped. I grimaced.

  “Excellent work,” Carver said. “But now for the Codex.” He gestured towards the main door leading away from the staircase landing. “Through there, I suppose, though that should be obvious.”

  Gil sniffed at the air. “At least four of them in there.”

  Sterling cocked his head, inhaling slowly. “A couple are magical. That or they’re packing heat.”

  “Yes,” Carver said. “I sensed that.”

  Gil cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. “So. Do we barge them and charge them?”

  “The two of you will,” Carver said, weaving his fingers in the air in front of him. “Dustin. You stay back, lurk in the dark, and shadowstep your way in when you’re required.”

  “Done and done,” I said.

  I was happy to help, but even happier not to be in the front lines. This was nice, really, having actual muscle to brute force through the flimsier obstacles. I liked to think of myself as Carver’s secret weapon, someone he could call on to apply some finesse.

  “Yeah, better for him to hang back,” Sterling said. “Else he’ll crumple like paper at the first sign of a fight.”

  I clenched my jaw and held back my retort. Better finesse than cannon fodder, I thought. Carver finished his muttering, then swept his hand from the crown of his head, downwards. Pale fire suffused his body, parts of him disappearing into thin air as he completed his spell.

  “Where the hell is he going? Is he leaving us to do the dirty work?”

  A cough came from the air, in the approximate space that Carver’s body had previously occupied.

  “I’m still here, Mr. Graves. And I’ll thank you to speak a little more politely of me. I wonder if that’s how you talk about me when I’m not around.”

  “Not at all,” I said, stammering at both the admonition, as well as Carver’s sudden invisibility. I’d never seen anyone invisible before. I realize that doesn’t make any damn sense, but you get what I mean. Just roll with it.

  “Here goes,” Gil said. “Give me space, guys, just in case I need to go dog.” He bent his knees, preparing to charge. “Okay. On three. One, two – ”

  Sterling smashed his fist straight through the door, his lips drawn back in sheer delight. He wrenched the wood apart with fingers so slender that they looked like talons.

  “Here’s Johnny,” he crowed, ripping the door off its hinges. Jesus Christ. I knew Sterling was vampire-strong, but I guess I’d never seen him fully fed. This was absolutely terrifying.

  “Idiot,” the air beside me muttered, and it shifted as Carver moved into position. Whatever defensive measure he meant to put in place didn’t make it in time. A bolt of electricity slammed fully into Sterling’s chest, and he screamed as he flew off his feet.

  “Now it’s g
etting interesting,” Gil said, groaning deeply as his fingers flayed in a burst of blood, skin from bone, to make way for his wolf talons. Sterling was already back on his feet, none the worse for wear, slicking his hair back down.

  “I made such an effort to look pretty today, too,” he hissed.

  He vanished in a streak as he rushed through the open doorway, narrowly dodging another electrical bolt. I heard a crack, then a hideous scream.

  “Hey, don’t leave me out of all the fun,” Gil said, charging through to join Sterling on the other side. Where Carver was, I couldn’t say, but I crept far behind them, sticking to the shadows so I could peek into the room.

  A man – nearly a boy, honestly – was writhing on the floor, clutching his wrist, which had been bent into an incredibly unpleasant angle. Some feet away from him was a thin rod, about the size of a chopstick, possibly the wand he’d used to attack Sterling. Noted. You know, in case I needed to fry something on short notice. But there were others in the room, two more men, and a third figure dressed all in white.

  Wait. White. Was it – could it be? I craned my neck, straining to see. I couldn’t give away that there were four of us. That was the whole point, to afford us an unfair advantage, but I had to see. I could just make out someone who appeared to be dressed differently than the rest.

  The other cultists wore civilian clothing: jeans, jackets, hoodies. This person was in something resembling a robe. A white one, close to alabaster, or ivory, a color someone from my past life tended to favor. I couldn’t hear exactly what she was muttering, but I could tell that she was casting a spell.

  It was a woman’s voice.

  Thea?

  Chapter 16

  I could have stepped into the room, grabbed the wand, and fried her on the spot. I could have at least shadowstepped in to warn the others. But orders were orders.

  The wand that had belonged to the man with the injured wrist flew from the floor straight into the woman’s hand, and she fired another bolt, missing both Sterling and Gil.

 

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