Null and Void
A Royal States Novel
Susan Copperfield
Pen & Page Publishing
Null and Void
A Royal States Novel
In the Royal States of America, magic rules all, but life—and love—always finds a way.
Born without magic, Mackenzie Little has few prospects. In a futile attempt to break her out of the null caste, her mother ropes her into participating in a charity auction, where anything can be bought with enough money.
She never expected her ex-boss, Dylan Mason, an elite with a love of driving her crazy, would buy her company. For a day, she’s happy to live a fairy tale.
Nine months later, despite all their precautions, Mackenzie’s little miracle is born.
Armed only with Texas pride and New York viciousness, Mackenzie fights through hell or high water to protect her tiny family of two from a society obsessed with magic.
The last thing she needs is to land in the middle of a mess doomed to make her, a null, the grand prize of a battle between royals.
Copyright © 2017 by Susan Copperfield/Pen & Page Publishing/RJ Blain
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Holly Heisey (HollyHeiseyDesign.com)
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
About the Author
Also by Susan Copperfield
Susan writing as RJ Blain - Magical Romantic Comedies (with a body count)
From RJ Blain’s Witch & Wolf World
Other Stories by RJ Blain
Chapter One
If I adhered to popular belief, every living thing possessed a spark of magic. The trick was discovering that spark and coaxing it to life.
I wanted to find the bastard responsible for propagating that load of drivel and knee him in the groin so hard his descendants felt it while his ancestors rolled in their graves. Giving nulls like me false hope only made life more difficult. Without magic to ease the way, I needed pointless, wishful thinking like I needed an extra hole in my head.
The extra hole would put me out of my misery, and some days, the thought of escaping the incessant prejudice appealed. I always came back to my senses, and when I did, I became even more bitter about my lot in life.
If I had possessed a spark of magic, I would’ve used it to light a fire under my boss’s ass so he’d get back to work instead of hovering over my shoulder watching me plug numbers into a spreadsheet. What use was magic if I couldn’t do something productive with it? I’d already lost three hours of my day to someone else’s accounting error, and no magic on Earth could tap into a computer and force it to spill its secrets.
Magic could work with technology, but for whatever reason I couldn’t fathom, no one had figured out how to use magic to populate spreadsheets. Sitting straighter, I kept my gaze locked on my monitor to maintain the illusion of productivity. “Can I help you with something, sir?”
“I couldn’t help but notice you’re doing Abigail’s job, Mackenzie Little.”
I twitched at the mention of the woman, who often served as my supervisor when my boss, one Dylan Mason, didn’t feel like dealing with me. I really wanted to know why he always insisted on calling me by my full name. One day, when I tired of having a job, I’d tell him exactly what I thought of him and his obnoxious ways. I’d also give him an earful about the failings of his precious executive secretary.
I kept working and forced a smile. “She asked for help with a report as she has a very busy day today.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire. By help, I meant fix. By asked, I meant demanded. Abigail thanked no one, especially not a worthless null like me, even when I busted my ass making sure she didn’t lose her job. If I had had a single spark of magic, I would’ve started fires to watch them burn.
Most people didn’t want fire as their element; firebugs were as common as dirt, ranked low on the talent totem, and had a reputation of being dangerous without true benefit.
If it meant being something other than a null, I would’ve embraced even the weakest flame.
To cover my growing agitation over my lot in life, I hunted for the nefarious errors in Abigail’s formulas, making my boss cool his heels.
His impatient sigh pleased me.
“I see,” he muttered, hovering over my shoulder and watching me do his secretary’s work.
If I had possessed the power, I would’ve considered damning Dylan to the darkest corner of hell I could find. Ignoring his presence tested my patience, but unlike him, I showed no sign of my annoyance.
Within a few minutes, I found the problem: Abigail liked taking shortcuts and often forgot—or refused—to double-check her work. One corrected formula later, I emailed her the report.
I returned to the daily grind, checking the output of scripts for the marketing department so they could build the reports people like Dylan would use to make deals with other companies—or swindle clients out of their money. My boss continued to hover, leaning forward until I caught glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye.
Were all men such children? Why did such a handsome man have to be so insufferable?
For the sake of my peace of mind, it was a good thing Dylan irritated me so much, else I’d spend every night fantasizing about stripping him out of his shirt. He took good care of himself, he knew it, and he wore clothes designed to cling to him and highlight his best assets.
I wasn’t the only woman in the office with a hobby of watching him leave the room.
Forcing a smile, I asked, “Did you need something, sir?”
“Actually, yes. I don’t suppose Abigail told you what she’s so busy doing today that prevented her from sending me that report I expected first thing this morning? I really could’ve used those figures at ten. It’s now eleven. Since you seem to have taken over her responsibilities, will there be any more delays? There’s another report I need for my one o’clock.”
With a sinking feeling, I checked my email for additional messages from Abigail. Sure enough, there was another demand for a fixed report. Opening the file revealed a slew of errors. My head ached just thinking about unraveling the disaster and correcting the damned thing. Two hours might give me enough time to restore it to order if I worked hard and skipped lunch.
For someone in my position, there was only one answer I could give to my boss. “I’ll make sure this is ready for your one o’clock, sir.”
“Thanks, Abigail.” My boss straightened, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched him brush invisible dirt from his perfect suit, which clung to his chest and did unfair things to me. He inclined his
head in the barest of nods, something he shouldn’t have done for a null like me, and marched to his office.
Maybe Dylan lived to piss me off, but he wasn’t a slouch, and as I had since the day I’d started working for him at Riverway Enterprises, I wished I’d been born with a spark of magic. When I wasn’t busy resenting him for what I couldn’t have, he had every last quality I’d ever wanted in a man.
I demonized him because I hated longing for what I couldn’t have, including a smart man like him, a man who noticed those beneath him, even when society told him we should be ignored.
Some things never changed. I had no idea how I’d finish my work and hers, too, but while I’d miss lunch, I’d earn a nice paycheck thanks to the overtime I’d have to log to keep from getting fired. Maybe if the stars aligned, I’d get a bonus for doing what my boss’s executive secretary hadn’t.
I snorted at my misplaced optimism, shook my head, and got to work.
Fifteen minutes before one, I emailed the report to Abigail, and because I’d trust a cobra long before her, I also sent it to my boss. I’d pay hell for it in one form or another later; if I let her send it, she’d be late, which would put me in the line of fire. Sending it to Dylan directly would land me in a steaming pile of crap with her, but she couldn’t fire me.
He could.
Aware of his meeting, I skipped out of the office to grab a bite to eat, hoping no one noticed me leaving outside normal lunch hours.
I ran into Abigail in the lobby, and she was on her way out of the office. Considering I hadn’t seen her upstairs since she’d dumped the first report on my lap, I wondered what she’d been doing with her day. “Abigail?”
“I’m busy, Mackenzie,” the woman snapped, flipping her hand at me. “Later.”
I fantasized about wrapping my hands around her pretty neck. “Have you forgotten I work in the marketing department? I’m not Mr. Mason’s secretary. You are.”
“Later, Mackenzie.” Abigail swept through the doors and took the steps two at a time. It was a good thing I lacked magic, as I would’ve used it to snap her needle-thin stilettos—or her neck.
Sometimes, I wasn’t a nice person, and I found it difficult to care. Instead of screaming profanities and yanking out my hair, I followed. In the time it took me to shove through the front doors out of the building, flinching at the cooler air outside, Dylan’s secretary had climbed into a sports car that was pulling away from the curb with a squeal of tires, getting nowhere in a hurry and burning rubber.
The chill didn’t bother me much, although my chest felt a little tighter than I liked, forcing me to retreat back into building.
Damn it. Was she really screwing me over again? My vantage gave me a good look at the car, and I memorized the license plate so I could snoop later. To make certain I wouldn’t forget, I pulled my phone out of my purse and emailed the number to myself. The next time she hung me out to dry, I’d remember her outing when she should’ve been doing her job and mention it to the wrong people.
I didn’t need magic to make her life miserable, and I needed a new job anyway. It’d been a miracle I’d stayed at Riverway Enterprises for as long as I had anyway.
Nulls like me tended to have a year-long shelf life before we became too expensive to keep around. Why waste good money on someone without a talent?
Life would be a lot easier when I accepted what I couldn’t change.
Most people ate out at our office, a badge of pride among the employees privileged to work for a corporation run by platinums, the higher-ranked elite. I hiked the ten minutes home, swearing to submit my resume to any company needing a gopher capable of generating reports, operating computers without breaking them, and putting up with pain in the ass CEOs. My lack of magic wouldn’t endear me to many employers, but with four years under my belt at Riverway Enterprises and a business degree, I’d get interviews.
While I should’ve dug something out of my refrigerator, I wasn’t up for the hassle of dealing with its chill. The last thing I needed was to return to the office wheezing because I’d flirted with disaster. A can of soup made with warm tap water would do, and while I ate, I submitted my resume to several companies and eyeballed my savings account, calculating how long I’d last if I snapped and quit before I could be fired.
A smart null always quit; being fired served as a big black mark for future employment, and I’d reached the highest pay bracket I could without magic. I wouldn’t lose it being an idiot.
The laws didn’t protect me from being fired without reason, but those same laws didn’t prevent me from quitting without notice. I had options. They weren’t pleasant ones, but if someone crossed my last line, I’d do what I should’ve done years ago.
Fifty-five minutes after leaving, I slipped into the cubicle farm which served as an office for me and six other support staff for the real marketers. No one paid any attention to me, which I expected.
No one wanted to lose the little magic they had, and they all feared exposure to me might infect them and transform them into a null and void existence, too. My nearest neighbor, Marco, flinched whenever I got within five feet of him, something I found amusing considering he could barely light a candle with his talent. Firebugs incapable of controlling their abilities also got short-shafted.
Of all my co-workers, he should’ve understood what it was like to walk in my shoes.
Sitting down and leaning back in my chair, I checked the reception area adjacent to Dylan’s office; Abigail hadn’t returned yet.
“Boss was asking about you,” Marco barked, and his nasally rasp made my skin crawl. “Finally going to get fired for slacking off?”
“You’re in a bad mood today,” I muttered, shaking my head and settling in to start my day rather than pretend my name was Abigail. Given a few minutes, I’d be in a bad mood, too. I could do her job better than she could, and we both knew it. “If you must know, maybe I’m looking for a new job so I can work with people who have balls. If I’m going to get fired anyway, I guess I don’t have to worry about your delicate little feelings anymore, do I?”
Stunned silence spread through the cubicle farm, and heads popped up over the dividers, my co-workers eager for a show to break the daily monotony, perfectly imitating curious gophers.
“Mackenzie Little, my office. Now!” Dylan barked.
I hadn’t noticed him lurking in his reception, and I grimaced. Marco smirked at me and waggled his fingers in a mocking wave.
Of the men to occupy the role of Chief Marketing Officer, Dylan had lasted the longest, having joined the office at my one-year anniversary. Five others had preceded him, earning the position due to their platinum rank rather than their skills. His spacious office felt like a tomb to me, with the worn oak desk serving as the sarcophagus where my career would rot. During my boss’s tenure with Riverway Enterprises, no one had witnessed him using magic. Every office gossip believed his talent was linked to his temper, and no one was brave enough to test him.
Whatever his power was, it was strong enough to grant him the right to wear a platinum pentagram tie clip, proclaiming his status as a member of a strong bloodline. As far as I knew, the pentagram served as a warning: if anyone touched Dylan, retribution would be swift and lethal. If he didn’t kill his attackers, his family would, and the sigil declared he possessed a lethal power and had royal blessing to use it.
Dylan circled his desk and sat, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers against the perfect sleeves of his suit. “Care to explain what that was about?”
I took a moment to think. If I quit or got fired, I’d have one month, two weeks, and three days to find a new job, accounting for the two weeks it would take to receive my first paycheck. If asked, I could easily claim discrimination as the cause of my departure from the company.
No matter how I looked at it, I had nothing to gain or lose. If I stayed, I faced legalized harassment from Marco and his posse of petty friends. If I left, I’d be challenged to find new work, but I might be able
to salvage something of my career.
I drew a deep breath and lifted my chin. “Didn’t you know lacking magic’s a contagious disease? I regret to inform you Mr. Farren’s balls haven’t dropped yet. I’m sure it’ll happen eventually. Did Abigail forward the report she couldn’t be bothered to finish without me fixing it for her, as she can’t count to five without stuttering? Oh, right. She was too busy going to lunch to do her job for a change.” Without referencing my phone, I described the car she’d left in, gave Dylan the license plate number, and held my hands up in helpless surrender. Quitting would put me ahead of the game, and I wouldn’t need to explain why I’d gotten fired. “I quit, Mr. Mason. I’m sure you can locate someone from a useful bloodline to cover your secretary’s pretty ass, since she can’t seem to keep it covered herself.”
My ex-boss’s eyebrows rose. He opened his mouth to say something, but I spun and marched out of his office, closing the door behind me with a gentle click.
Despite the rage seething under my skin, slamming doors was just rude.
Everything I needed to take home fit in my purse, requiring only a few moments to grab on my way out the door. Marco laughed. The rest of my co-workers pretended to work rather than openly mock my misfortune.
They likely believed I’d been fired, and I was in no hurry to correct them. Unless my luck continued to sour, I’d never see them again.
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