Magic After Dark Boxed Set (Six Book Bundle)

by Deanna Chase

  I looked over at Killian. I rolled him on to his side, “Hey kid, wake up.”

  He moaned and his eyelids fluttered a bit.

  I gave him a shake, “Come on you faker, the danger is over.”

  He slowly lifted his head and winced. He was probably sporting a banger of a concussion right now.

  “How you feeling?” I asked.

  He lay back down on the ground, “Like I got hit by a blast of magic.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. That’s exactly how you are supposed to be feeling.” I put out my hand, “Come on, we still have to go find my mom.”

  He nodded grimly and let me haul him to his feet. We were both limping as we made our way to the door.

  “We better not run into any bad guys, because I’m liable to just let them kill me,” I moaned.

  We opened the door and there were two vampires.

  With a grimace, I tossed Killian a sai and we both staked the bastards before they were even able to move.

  “The next bad guys. The next bad guys I’m going to let kill me,” I said as I yanked my sai out of the vamp’s heart.

  Killian wiped the goo on his trousers and returned me my improvised stake. He then went back into the room and grabbed up Ulrich’s sword from the ground.

  “I do not plan on doing any killing. I am just going to use this as a cane so that I do not fall over,” he said.

  I couldn’t argue, “After you, old man.”

  He hobbled out.

  The halls were quiet, but we tried to remain alert for any surprise attacks. We didn’t find Master Vaclav and there was a noticeable decline in the undead types. I had the strangest feeling that perhaps he had some inkling how this was going to shake out and that’s why he had chosen to retire to some offsite location. Still, room by room, we cleared out the few bad critters we ran into and checked to make sure that my mom wasn’t chained to a wall.

  When we found her, she actually was chained to a wall.

  Mom looked up. Her hair was unkempt and her muumuu dirty, but she looked more put out than fearful. The moment I stepped in, she gave a huge sigh of relief and then started kvetching, “It took you so long, I wasn’t even sure you would come. Your uncle showed up and he acted as if I should be bowing down before him like he was the second coming of Erik Estrada, which, I will tell you, he is not. Then he says he is going to leave a ransom note, but you really can’t trust men with these sorts of things. He probably didn’t even tell you where to find me. Your uncle…”

  I smiled. The sound of her voice had never been sweeter.

  Killian found the keys hanging by the door on a big iron key ring and we had those manacles off of my mom’s hands lickety split. I threw my arms around her, not ever wanting to let go. Teach her to scare the bejeezus outta me.

  She stroked my hair, “Now, now. I’m fine. I saw this coming.”

  I pulled away and wiped some moisture that seemed to be leaking from my eyes, “I found Dad. He’s alive and safe, just like you always knew he was.”

  She got very, very quiet, “Did you find the note he left you?”

  I nodded.

  “He knew someday that you would find out the truth. He insisted on leaving it for you. He didn’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way.” She leaned forward and gave me an Eskimo kiss, “I’m glad you didn’t listen.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I couldn’t. Your father and I made that decision to keep you and your sister alive. He was safe and we were safe. It was all we could do.”

  I nodded. As I thought about the moment I had found the ransom note, of realizing Mom was missing, I understood what a person would try to do to keep their family safe.

  She rubbed my back, “How does he look?”

  “Like he could use some of your good cooking,” I said with a smile. “You ready to go see him?”

  We all trooped back up to the office and I reopened the portal. Dad was standing right there on Earth waiting for us. His eyes lit up as he saw me. I stepped through and took the diamond lion from him. He wrapped me up in his arms, but I gave him a gentle shove towards someone on the Other Side who needed him more than me at the moment.

  “Mom? How about you take Dad home? I’ve got to make sure this gets into the right hands,” I said waving the diamond lion casually.

  She held out her arms and Dad stepped through the border, both of them crying and laughing like a couple of crazy kids who were just wild about each other.

  “Get a room!” I shouted.

  Killian cast a nifty little vampire glamour disguise on my folks as he ushered them out of the room.

  But before he left, Killian turned and locked eyes with me. I gave him a little wave, “Thanks.”

  And then I let the portal close.

  I whipped my cell phone out of my satchel, trying not to look too out of place, what with my late 19th Century garb and vampire guts and diamond statue. I punched in a text and slowly made my way across the beach.

  It’s funny how the most mundane situations can sometimes put things in such complete context. There were parents unloading strollers from the backs of their SUVs. Old ladies carrying umbrellas to stay out of the sun. The waves still roared. The birds still chirped. Crazy burnouts still played hacky sack. And none of them had a clue that they had just been saved from annihilation.

  Nuts. The whole living thing was just nuts and I started to laugh all alone out there.

  I don’t know if it was life choosing that particular moment to make sure I didn’t scare the children or what, but my euphoria was interrupted by my cell phone ringing.

  “Hello?”

  The line was silent, like it used to be back in the day when you were making an international call.

  “Hello?” I asked again.

  “Maggie MacKay. Magical Tracker,” stated some guy whose voice made my teeth ache like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “My minions have reported that you were successful in disposing of your uncle.”

  The squirrels in my brain pushed the pieces together and you could almost hear a “clunk” as the cogs and wheels FINALLY started spinning.

  “Vaclav?”

  “A pleasure to finally speak with you, my dear Ms. MacKay.”

  “You’re a dick,” I said. The guy tried tearing down the border and destroying the entire human race. I wasn’t in the mood for etiquette.

  “Congratulations on your win, Ms. MacKay. After having spent some time with your uncle, I was quite certain he would not be a match for you,” said the master vampire.

  “Um… thanks?”

  “But know this – enjoy your victory while you can because it shall be your last.”

  I sputtered into the handset, “I think that what you meant to say was that this was my first. Of many. I’m going to have so many firsts, you aren’t even going to be able to count how many firsts I have kicking your…”

  “Make no mistake, Ms. MacKay!” he bellowed, giving a vocal performance unheard since Phantom left Broadway, “The vampires shall walk in the sun once again!”

  I, however, had caught that particular musical and let me just say, he was not Michael Crawford.

  I pounded the “off” button and hung up on the guy.

  Life is too short to waste daytime cell minutes being yelled at by a vampire.

  I stretched my arms over my head and stared out at the ocean. Not bad for a day’s work.

  About a half hour later, my car pulled up by the boardwalk, the bitty driver barely able to see over the dashboard.

  I opened up my car door and placed the diamond lion on the passenger side floor and covered it with my foil car shade.

  “Thanks, Pipistrelle,” I said.

  He gave me a little salute, “Good news?”

  “Indeed,” I replied. “I have vanquished my evil uncle.”

  “Then my work here is done,” he said wistfully. “I suppose I shall have to return to the Other Side be
fore my permit expires.”

  Vaclav’s phone call was sitting in my stomach like bad potato salad at a church picnic. And then I got a brilliant idea.

  “Pipistrelle, would you like a new mission?”

  He nodded his head, as if he couldn’t believe his good luck.

  “My sister lives here on Earth and I need someone to make sure she is protected. Would you be up for the task?”

  He hopped on the seat excitedly, “Indeed! I’m your brownie! Indeed!”

  I nodded, “Good. Then you have yourself a job. Permanently. I’ll get all the paperwork done when I get to the Other Side.”

  Pipistrelle jumped out of the car.

  “Pipistrelle! Come back!” I shouted.

  “No, Maggie, dear! I must go protect your sister’s home!”

  I grinned as his little hat disappeared behind a flowerbed, knowing he had found his bliss.

  The drive out to Chinatown was uneventful. I found parking over on Hill Street. I walked up those long steps to Xiaoming’s apartment. His lions gave me a nod as I stood there. Nice to see I got the hunks of concrete’s seal of approval.

  I rapped on the flimsy aluminum screen door.

  Xiaoming shuffled over to me, cigarette burned down to the filter. He lit another one off the end and asked, “What you want?”

  “I got you a present.”

  He opened up the door and ushered me in, barely giving me a glance. I took the lion out of my reusable shopping bag and set him on the table.

  “Think you can get him home for me?” I asked.

  Xiaoming’s craggy face broke into a smile. He took the statue from the table and cradled it like a baby, “I take good care of him. Will take him home now.”

  He walked into the other room and was gone for several minutes. When he returned, he said, “He is safe.”

  And then Xiaoming gave me a deep bow, “Thank you, Maggie MacKay.”

  I gave him a little nod and awkwardly bunched up the empty bag. The lions guarding his door were still as I left.

  I drove my car across town and wound my way up to Mulholland, rolling down my windows and letting the heat of the day wash over me.

  I started reviewing the day’s events: destroyed my uncle. Check. Saved my Mom and Dad. Check. Delivered ancient artifact of unknown power to a crazy Chinese guy. Check. Dinner with the family?

  I looked over the rim at the Los Angeles skyline as my stomach growled.

  Seemed like the perfect time to drive off a cliff.

  And I gunned it.

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  Acknowledgements

  It drives my mom to distraction when the folks accepting their Oscars thank their families last instead of first, so let’s get it out on the table before I am written out of the will –thanks always and forever to my family. They have supported me through all my hair-brained schemes and let me pursue an artist’s life with barely a “When are you going to get a real job?” In fact, most of the time I get a, “Wow! That’s wonderful!” You have no idea how much your support of me and my last book means. Sorry about all the cussing in this one.

  This book exists solely because of the internet writing community and the panic that set in when I signed up for NaNoWriMo. It is a fantastic time and you really should do it this year. No, really.

  Many thanks to Matt Troyer who forced me to start blogging, where I met folks like Giddy Girlie, Bliss Blog, Styrofoam Kitty, Out of Character, Byrne Unit, Mermaid Jones, Orlith and others whose writing left me in awe. Thank you for the inspiration and giving me a glimmer of what writing could be. It was a glorious age.

  Thank you to my beta readers Adam Jackman and R.B. Wood for your insight and enthusiasm. I would have burned this manuscript without you! There is a special place in heaven for those willing to plow through a first draft… Thank you to Ray Stilwell at Captainsblog for editing this mutha and all your support. You all earned your wings!

  A special thanks to my Scooby Crew - Mia Winn, Ryan Winn and Adam Jackman. Thanks for being my partners in crime here in Los Angeles. I know this city because of you. Thank you for the love and adventure!

  About Kate Danley

  Kate Danley's debut novel, The Woodcutter, was honored with the Garcia Award for the Best Fiction Book of the Year, the 1st Place Fantasy Book in the Reader Views Literary Awards, and the winner of the Sci-Fi/Fantasy category in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards.

  Her plays have been produced in New York, Los Angeles, and DC Metro area. Her screenplay Fairy Blood won 1st Place in the Breckenridge Festival of Film Screenwriting Competition in the Action/Adventure Category. Her projects The Playhouse, Dog Days, Sock Zombie, SuperPout, and Sports Scents can be seen in festivals and on the internet. She trained in on-camera puppetry with Mr. Snuffleupagus and recently played the head of a 20-foot dinosaur on an NBC pilot.

  Upcoming releases in 2013 include: an installment of The Dead Man series (created by bestselling authors Lee Goldberg and William Rabkin), M & K Tracking, The Queen Maggie, and a currently untitled work.

  She lost on Hollywood Squares.

  Also by Kate Danley

  The Woodcutter

  Queen Mab

  Maggie for Hire

  Maggie Get Your Gun

  Maggie on the Bounty

  Spirited Manor

  Kate Danley on Amazon

  Sterling

  A Mageri Series Novel - Book One

  Dannika Dark

  “Courage is the power to let go of the familiar.”

  —Raymond Lindquist

  Preface

  Dying isn’t the hardest thing you’ll ever do—living is. There are many choices that determine the direction of your life, but death only has one outcome. At least, that’s what I used to believe.

  Fate changes with every single decision made: right turn instead of left, yes instead of no, chocolate instead of vanilla, or taking the shortcut.

  I can’t admit to doing anything remarkable on the last day of my life.

  But then, can anyone?

  They say (whoever “they” are) that you should live each day like it’s your last. In my former life, I would have thought that was a true statement. Go out swinging, throw caution to the wind, and break all the rules.

  I’ve learned something far more valuable since I was given a second life, a second chance, and a new beginning—live each day of your life like it is your first.

  I was born Zoë Winter Merrick.

  If names hold meaning then perhaps my fate was sealed from the beginning. Zoë means life, Winter represents death, and my surname means fame and power.

  Fate is not without a sense of humor after all.

  Merrick was my surname, but not my last name. Rebirth has a funny way of starting things anew.

  Chapter 1

  A black panther lapped his rough tongue across my cheek. Max wasn’t actually a panther, just a house cat with a massive ego. When the only tongue you’re getting is from your cat… it’s time to get out more.

  “Someone’s hungry,” I observed. “Do you want some tuna?”

  Did I spoil my cat every night with a can of tuna on top of his food? Guilty.

  Max extended his front claws and I flinched when they poked through my grey shirt. A quick shove to the floor solved that problem.

  Six years ago when I was between jobs and going through a rough patch, I adopted Max. He was abused and needed special care, as did I. There was a grim chance that Max would be blind, but that didn’t stop the affection I felt for him. He needed me, and in a strange way, I needed him too. When the bandages were removed, it was a miracle—Max could see. But what I didn’t know was that my little panther had what the guys in spiffy white jackets like to cal
l heterochromia. Mismatched eyes are what they really meant to say. I never understood the significance of medical jargon. Call it a bum liver, bad ticker, even the evil little bump—but for god’s sake, make it understandable.

  My friends were put off with that stare—one green eye and one yellow—but I loved him for being unique.

  Eventually, Max grew into a seventeen-pound badass, but he also deserved recognition for his services as an alarm clock and a foot warmer. Not that I needed much foot warming in a southern climate, but his efforts were appreciated.

  The room was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that makes you wonder if the rest of the world existed anymore. The tips of the leaves on my bamboo plant glowed from the light creeping through the wood shutters. My apartment was small, but it surrounded me like a warm security blanket. A stream of rainbows slanted across the coffee table from a crystal hanging on the window, telling me it was late afternoon.

  When the cordless phone went off I jumped, giving the flashing blue light on the coffee table a nasty scowl.

  “Hello?” I answered, rubbing my eyes.

  “Zoë, girl! Rise and shine,” a female voice giggled.

  “Sunny, friend of my loins, what can I do for you?” I was irritable and needed to shower after spending all day attached to my sofa.

  Sunny was my best friend and partner in crime. I could tell she was in better than usual spirits—the kind that meant I was going to be ass-deep in Saturday-night mischief.

  “Uh, I don’t think I want to be that friendly with your loins. I know you aren’t asleep on that couch because I’m coming by in an hour. My car is finally out of the shop, thank God. That chucklehead robbed me blind after holding it hostage for three weeks. Seriously, Zoë, I’m going to have to sell my firstborn to pay him and I don’t even want kids.”

  I craned my neck and squinted at the clock. Jesus, I slept for five hours. My afternoon nap had turned into a full-on coma.