Magic Immortal

by Ella Summers

  “Save the world, if you please. Saving the city is for amateurs.” She flashed him a grin. She was pretty sure by now that he wasn’t a demon. “Like you, I like to think big.”

  “Indeed. Well, I’ve moped enough for tonight. Time to mingle and make some big deals with my adoring guests,” he chuckled, rolling up his sleeves.

  Naomi’s gaze darted to the illustrations on his exposed arms. They looked so familiar.

  “I’ve heard about your tattoos,” she told him. “Could it be that they are the work of Bellatrix Raven?”

  “Yes, she does much more than paintings, you know.”

  “So you’ve met her?”

  “So have you,” he said. “Right here on this balcony.”

  Naomi followed the vampire’s gaze through the glass window, down to the ballroom below, to the fair-haired woman who’d passed right by her. She was standing between the blood fountain and the chocolate fountain. Her face was now hidden beneath an elaborate peacock feather mask, but Naomi would have recognized that shimmering hair and ink-black dress anywhere. Looking upon that mask, she was somehow reminded of the zombie monster peacock at Monster Lake, the one whose eyes seemed to be a looking glass into hell.

  The eyes on the peacock feathers blinked and expelled a puff of hell. Shit. They’d been very, very wrong. The demon wasn’t inside the Dark Prince. It was inside Bellatrix Raven.

  Naomi started running. She had to make it to Bellatrix before the demon escaped.

  A hand locked around Naomi’s wrist, yanking her back. The Dark Prince lifted her above his head and threw her over the edge of the balcony.

  As she fell, magic glowing wings sprouted from her back, slowing her fall. She touched down softly on the grounds just outside the ballroom. Above, the vampire stared down at her, his hands braced against the balcony rail.

  “What’s going on?” Alex asked as she, Makani, and Logan came up beside Naomi.

  “There are apparently two demons here,” Naomi said.

  The doors to the ballroom burst open and people poured outside, surrounding them.

  “Or about fifty demons?” Alex said, her blue eyes panning across the mob.

  “That’s not possible.” Naomi shook her head. “There are only four left. I counted the demons when they burst out of my father.”

  “Perhaps you miscounted,” Logan said.

  Perhaps. But miscounted by thirty demons? She couldn’t have been that far off. Or could she? Uncertainty bubbled inside of her.

  “There is only one demon here,” Makani said, looking past the mob to the only person still standing in the ballroom: Bellatrix Raven. “The demon is controlling them all.”

  The Dark Prince jumped off the balcony and landed in front of Naomi. As she met the vampire’s eyes, she realized Makani was right. The Dark Prince’s tattoos glowed brightly. Similar tattoos glowed all across the party guests’ bodies, lighting up the dark courtyard.

  “The demon is controlling all of them through those tattoos,” Naomi said.

  “It is one of the mind-controlling demons,” Makani said. “Unlike most demons, they don’t bring hell beasts with them out of hell. They create their army on earth. They enslave people’s minds, making them their ‘beasts’. I once heard of a demon who accomplishes this with magical symbols and tattoos.”

  “Dandrion,” Logan said.

  Makani looked at him, surprise flashing in his eyes.

  “I’ve read a lot of old magical texts,” Logan explained. “The demon Dandrion breaks your will and feeds off of your shattered soul.”

  “Well, let’s feed him back to hell,” Alex decided. “What do you say, Naomi?”

  “Absolutely.” Clenching her fists, Naomi faced the army of broken wills and shattered souls.

  “Make…it…stop,” the Dark Prince uttered through clenched teeth. His eyes shook; his body was drenched in sweat.

  “He is fighting the power of the tattoos,” Makani observed.

  “Will he be strong enough to break them?” Naomi wondered.

  “Doubtful.” Magic glowed on Makani’s hands. “But I can.”

  Dragon Born mages like Makani and Alex possessed a unique ability—Magic Breaker—that allowed them to break the bonds of spells.

  “Right. You and Alex can break the tattoos’ magic,” Naomi said. “I need to get to the demon inside the ballroom. Logan, can you clear me a path through the party guests?”

  “Of course.”

  “Without killing them,” she told the assassin. “It’s not their fault they are being controlled.”

  Logan arched a single blond brow, but simply replied, “I am adept in a variety of both lethal and non-lethal methods.”

  “I love it when he talks dirty,” Alex declared, her eyes twinkling almost as brightly as the magic on her hands.

  “Ok, let’s take down this demon,” Naomi said, facing Dandrion’s puppets.

  Makani ran right, Alex veered left, and Logan charged straight through the middle of the army. Naomi followed closely in his wake. Perhaps a bit too closely, she thought as people tumbled to the ground around Logan.

  “Go do your thing. I’ll keep them off your back,” Logan said as they reached the ballroom. He planted himself in front of the open doors, taking down anyone who tried to follow Naomi inside.

  Bellatrix Raven was already fleeing toward the front door. Naomi thrust her hands forward. A wave of spirit magic tore out of her. Like a silver ribbon, her spell looped around the demon, trapping him inside a magic net.

  Dandrion pounded his fists against her barrier. Her spell held, though it felt like an anvil to the head. She had to start getting more than four hours of sleep a night—and stop fighting demons daily.

  Only a crazy person thought they could sustain this pace for months on end, but sanity was not a luxury Naomi could afford. Not when there were demons on the loose. Forcing more magic out of her tired body, she tightened the net around the demon. Screams spilled out of Bellatrix’s mouth, the demon’s final breaths of protest before it departed the earth. There was a resounding pop, then sparkling black confetti exploded out of the host body. Naomi opened a passage to hell and shot the demon’s soul through it.

  She collapsed to the floor, heaving in stuttered breaths. The world went back for a moment. When she opened her eyes again, Makani was beside her, helping her to her feet.

  “The guests are back to normal,” he told her. “Including Bellatrix Raven.”

  “Good,” she said, her voice shaking almost as much as her body.

  “Are you all right, Naomi?” Alex asked her.

  “I’m fine.”

  Makani’s arm curled around her back, holding her up as her legs threatened to collapse out from under her. “You’re pushing yourself too far. Again.” His voice was as hard as granite. “You need to rest.”

  “The demons don’t rest,” she pointed out. They’d had this discussion about fifty million times already.

  “No, they don’t,” he countered. “And if you blow out your magic again, you won’t be able to fight them when it matters most.”

  He had a point. She wasn’t too stubborn to see that. But she couldn’t just stop now. After months of hunting down the demons, they had now expelled all but three.

  “When we send the final three demons back to hell, I will rest,” she promised. “We could even take a vacation. I’m picturing tropical beaches and lots of coconuts.”

  “You’re coconuts,” he told her, squeezing her to him as he kissed her forehead.

  “All the best people are,” she said with a tired smile. “When all the demons are gone, we’ll do something fun. I promise. But until then, I have to keep going. I’m the only person on earth who can banish demons.”

  “Very well,” Makani said, sounding more resigned than appeased.

  At least until Dad woke up from his coma—if he woke up.

  “Ok.” Naomi put on a bright smile. She had to keep everyone’s spirits high, after all. “Now let’s see how Ser
a and Kai fared in their demon search tonight.”

  2

  The Red Knight

  Finishing up now, Naomi texted to her friend Sera as she and the others entered a waterside park close to the costume ball. You?

  Almost done here too, replied Sera. I hope.

  Hungry?

  Sera’s reply was almost instantaneous. Do you even need to ask?

  No, she really didn’t. Alex and her twin sister Sera were always hungry. They could each eat their weight in pizza.

  Naomi was also hungry right now. Besides Alex’s sip of pig blood and a mouthful of some dubious appetizer, none of them had caught a bite to eat at the ball, and fighting a demon had burned through Naomi’s reserve energy.

  Naomi looked at the others. “Hungry?”

  “Do you even need to ask?” Alex said, just like her sister.

  Midnight snack? Naomi wrote back to Sera.

  Absolutely. Meet you later at the Pancake Palace, replied Sera.

  The Pancake Palace was a twenty-four-hour breakfast diner located roughly halfway between the Dark Prince’s costume ball and the gala Sera and Kai had attended tonight.

  “We’re meeting Sera and Kai at the Pancake Palace,” Naomi told the others, slipping her phone back into the holster around her thigh.

  “I can’t wait. Hunting demons makes me hungry,” Alex said. “Pancakes, waffles, French toast…”

  A low hiss punctuated her words, like air quickly escaping from a punctured tire.

  “Scrambled eggs, poached eggs, fried eggs…”

  A deep growl joined the hiss.

  Alex paused. “Wait a minute…”

  Naomi could feel it too. Thick, hellish magic stirred all around them like a pot of hot water—popping, bubbling, boiling over. The air had changed. It was heavy with the harsh bite of demon magic, an unpleasant, acidic burn on Naomi’s tongue. Even the wind had grown hotter and drier. It seemed to whisper dark spells.

  The vicious magic snapped, bit, and tore at her magic like a rusty, jagged knife. Acid gurgled in her tummy. Her lungs burned, her face was feverish. Each breath of air scalded her lungs.

  “Hell beasts,” Naomi whispered.

  “Yes,” agreed Makani. “The magic here reeks of hell. The beasts must have followed their demon master to earth.”

  Demons on earth could summon their hell beasts to them from beyond the veil.

  Naomi could not see the beasts, but she could hear them. And she could feel their demonic magic. Their hissed growls seemed to come from every direction.

  Logan scanned the shadows, each flicker of his eyes as sharp as a laser. Like his gaze was hitting the bullseye of a target. He stared into the darkness like he could see beyond it—no, like he could see through solid concrete and even further, across the whole of San Francisco. But of course that was impossible. No one could do that.

  Naomi’s gaze could not even pierce the cloak of darkness. And she certainly could not see through buildings like they weren’t even there.

  “This way,” Logan said.

  He didn’t wait for them. He was already moving deeper into the park, running down the paved path that cut through it. His steps were fast and silent. If Naomi hadn’t seen his legs moving, she’d have thought him to be floating above the ground.

  Logan stopped in front of an assortment of enormous flower beds, each one filled with roses of a particular color. There was a section of red roses, then a section of orange ones, followed by a section of yellow blooms. The colorful bands repeated from there. A lamp post inside each flower bed was the only source of light in this dark part of the park.

  Just beyond the colorful, sweetly-scented rose beds lay a playground. It was empty at this hour, its only visitor the wind that rattled the creaking metal swings. A scattering of loose flower petals coated the chipped red paint of the well-loved slide. A dizzying carousel turned slowly in the wind. Naomi remembered going on one just like it when she was a kid. Her dad had pushed her on it as she’d shouted for him to go faster.

  Dad. Two months after the demons had hitched a ride inside his body, he was still unconscious. Naomi was beginning to wonder if he would ever wake up.

  She pushed those thoughts aside. She would not allow herself to abandon hope. He’d survived years trapped in hell. He would survive this. He would wake up, and then her family would be reunited once more. Her family would be complete—just like it was meant to be.

  A thumping noise spilled out of a concrete tunnel at the back of the playground. It was the sort of place where kids would play hide-and-seek, but there were no children in there now.

  Dum-dum thumped the drumbeat of hell. It was joined by the eerie, high-pitched dry whistle that characterized the winds of hell. The trumpet of hell, earsplitting shrieks, blared over it all. The hellish orchestra echoed off the exposed concrete walls of the tunnel, growing louder, cascading.

  Firelight flickered in the tunnel, then four red-and-orange birds shot out of its mouth, trailing streams of flames. They were large birds, each one roughly the size of a peacock, but instead of fluffy feathers, their bodies were covered in flames. The firebirds’ talons were pure gold, and their eyes sparkled like black opals and bright red rubies, pulsing in time to the flickering flames.

  “There’s someone in the tunnel with the beasts,” Logan said.

  Alex stared into the tunnel, squinting her eyes. “Who is crazy enough to run into a closed space with a bunch of burning birds?”

  “You are,” Naomi pointed out.

  “True. But obviously I’m out here, not in there,” said Alex. “Let me rephrase: who besides me is crazy enough to run into a closed space with a bunch of burning birds?”

  A hooded figure dashed out of the tunnel, right through the ring of fire. The firebirds’ flames bounced off his clothes. His red bodysuit was well-fitted and as light as cotton, but Naomi didn’t think for a moment that that was what he was wearing. He had to be wearing magic-proof armor, Drachenburg Industries’ ultra-lightweight mesh armor designed to not look like armor.

  Over his bodysuit, the Red Knight wore a hooded cloak that masked his face in shadow. In his right hand, he carried a baton spelled with ice magic. Tiny blue-white crystals sparkled across the weapon’s surface. As the frost-kissed baton streaked through the air, streams of twinkling snowflakes trailed it.

  The Red Knight swung his baton around and slammed it hard into one of the firebirds. The ice magic on the baton latched onto the bird’s fiery feathers, freezing them solid. The frozen flames burst into a million tiny ice pieces to the sound of shattering glass. The naked bird froze, suspended in the air for a moment. But before it could drop to the ground, a knife point emerged from the tip of the baton, and the Red Knight pushed it all the way through the beast’s belly. The bird evaporated into a puff of steam.

  Smooth and balletic, the Red Knight turned toward the next firebird. The inferno of flames around the hell beast raged hotter, louder. It was so hot that even at a safe distance from the battle, sweat beaded up on Naomi’s forehead.

  The Red Knight’s two hands slid together on the baton. The baton pulsed, and when he drew his hands apart once more, the weapon had split into two even pieces. Each one grew as long as the original baton—and each one now sported a knife point. One shimmering silver blade slashed through the bird in front of him, the other pierced the one behind him. Both birds disintegrated, leaving only one final beast.

  The Red Knight slammed the two batons together. Magic flashed like lightning, then the two batons were one again. A flare followed the flash. The baton was a rope now, hissing with purple-gold lightning magic. The Red Knight cracked it like a whip, snapping the sizzling tip against the final firebird. The beast exploded into a light storm of sparkles and falling ash.

  The entire battle had taken mere moments. Before Naomi could take more than two steps toward the Red Knight, it was already over.

  “Wow, he’s good,” Naomi said. “Very good.”

  “He really is,” Ale
x agreed.

  The Red Knight strode toward them, his steps confident and strong. He moved like he owned the path, the park, and everything in it. He flipped back his hood, revealing the face of Cloud Silverstride: fairy-mage hybrid, former owner of the Cloud Nine magic shop, drug dealer extraordinaire, and the very last person Naomi would have expected to find under the Red Knight’s mask.

  3

  A Matter of Hell

  The man before Naomi certainly looked like Cloud. He had the same spiked blond hair and green eyes that shimmered like a tropical ocean. She stared at him, not entirely convinced this wasn’t just an illusion, a mirage formed from the lingering magic in the air. Cloud was supposed to be in prison.

  “Isn’t that your ex?” Alex asked Naomi.

  “I wouldn’t say ex. We never dated.”

  No, they’d only slept together a few times.

  “Ah, I see,” Alex said with a knowing smile.

  As Cloud drew closer to them, Naomi could make out the mesh of his magic-proof armor. She recognized the design. Riley had shown it to her earlier this week. It was the latest iteration of his experimental armor.

  “Nice to see you again, Naomi,” Cloud said, bowing as he stopped in front of her.

  “Frankly, I’m surprised to see you again. Aren’t you supposed to be warming a cell in Atlantis?”

  Atlantis was the Magic Council’s supernatural prison island in the Atlantic. They’d sent Cloud there after he’d been arrested for conspiring with pirates to take over Fairy Island and its copious supply of magical crops.

  “I’ve been out of Atlantis for several months,” Cloud told her.

  “Based on the fearless, brazen way you are flaunting your newfound freedom, I’m guessing you didn’t break out and are now on the run from the authorities.”

  But why would they let Cloud go?

  “I made a deal with the Magic Council,” he said. “They let me out of prison, and I led them to the pirates and illegal drug dealers plaguing our cities. But two months ago, my mission changed. Kai Drachenburg assigned me the task of hunting down and exterminating the city’s hell beasts.”