Gravity (Mageri Series: Book 4)

by Dark, Dannika

  “Can I help you find something?” a man in his forties inquired with a polite smile, adjusting the rim of his glasses.

  “No, I’m just waiting for someone. My car broke down and it’s freezing out there, so I’m just going to wait inside if that’s okay.”

  “Perfectly fine, ma’am. Have a good evening,” he said robotically, heading down the diaper aisle.

  I stared at the screen filled with information on systolic and diastolic pressure. An old slow rock song played on the intercom and I sighed, uncertain of what to do next.

  “Excuse me, sir. Can I use your phone?”

  A clerk with acne walked by, reached behind the customer-service desk, and placed a phone within reach. I nodded with a courteous smile as he disappeared.

  If I had money, I’d have gone to a hotel. Instead, I dialed Christian and it went to voicemail.

  “Hey, it’s me. Where the hell are you? I’m at that corner market by Sully’s Books and I don’t know where to go. I’m on a store phone and I’ll be here for another twenty minutes. If you’re not here by then, I’m leaving. It’s almost morning and I feel like I’m on a merry-go-round,” I said, talking to myself. “Twenty minutes and I’m outta here, Christian. Stay safe.”

  I walked the aisles like a zombie, trying to stay awake, anticipating that Tarek’s trackers could burst in at any moment.

  My socks were caked in wet mud from running through a soppy field. It was then that an idea came to me—a place that I would be safe that would give me time to think.

  Jail.

  I casually strolled over to the perfume aisle and shoved a bottle in my pocket, but got annoyed when I saw the expensive ones were locked up. When the clerk came into view, I stuffed a few tubes of lipstick in my coat pocket. The only problem was that these items would only get me a slap on the wrist. So I hit the meat department and tucked a steak down the front of my pants.

  The DVD aisle was next and I stuffed a couple Eddie Murphy and Mel Gibson movies in the back of my jeans, lifting up my entire coat to do it. If I was going down as the stupidest shoplifter in history, my legacy would be that I had great taste in movies.

  “Ma’am, you’re going to have to come with me.”

  “Why?” I yelled in a belligerent tone.

  “I’ve got you on camera shoplifting; the cops are on their way.”

  “Don’t you have anything better to do than accuse people of a crime they didn’t commit?”

  When I moved toward the door, he grabbed my arm. Maybe they wouldn’t arrest someone for shoplifting, but they certainly would for assault.

  I pushed him and he stumbled backward. I didn’t want to hit the poor guy. Ernest—according to his nametag—looked like he’d just experienced his first fight. Now was not the time for the sympathy card to slide onto the table. I narrowed my eyes at him but Ernest got spooked, went to the main door, and locked it.

  Good man.

  “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t lock me in here like some kind of an animal!”

  I almost wanted to laugh when Lethal Weapon popped out of the ass of my jeans and slapped onto the floor.

  Blue lights flashed from the parking lot and I silently rejoiced.

  Ernest gave a victorious smile, and I thought about what a great story he was going to have for his wife and friends. I’m sure by then he’ll have embellished on the details.

  A large man wearing a puffy coat with a police badge stitched on the arm peered in the window at Ernest and then at me. I tucked my coat tightly together and with perfect timing, Eddie Murphy fell from between my legs and landed at my feet. The cop pointed at the lock and Ernest opened the door.

  “I’m Officer Stone. We got a call for a shoplifter.”

  “Uh, yes sir. She also shoved me. That’s assault, isn’t it?”

  “Hmph,” the cop murmured, giving him a judgmental look. Officer Stone was a thick man, maybe an inch taller than my five-foot-nine stature. He had a classic buzz cut that I could see from the sides of his brimmed hat. When he approached, one hand covered his gun.

  I stepped back and tightened my coat.

  “Is what he says true?”

  “It sure is!” Ernest answered, puffing out his chest.

  It deflated the minute Officer Stone snapped his fingers. “Shut up, Ernest. I’m talking to the suspect; let me do my job. Unless you think you have it under control?”

  Ernest quieted.

  “Kind of late to be out—what have you got in that coat?” His grey eyes scanned my body and stared at the movie that I kicked behind me. I could hear it swishing across the floor down the aisle.

  “I bet you’d like to know,” I replied.

  A grin quirked on his face just beneath his mustache.

  “Make this easy on everyone. You and I both know that you’re not going anywhere because Ernest over there has locked the door. Isn’t that right, Ernie?”

  The store manager locked the door again and watched with wide eyes.

  “Now, this doesn’t have to be hard.” Stone’s eyes flicked down to my muddy socks and his brows pushed together for a fraction of a second. “Let’s start with your pockets.”

  Officer Stone relaxed his posture and leaned against a register as if we were engaged in a friendly conversation. But I wasn’t about to make this easy for the copper, as Simon called them.

  I pivoted around and ran full throttle across the store. His shoes hammered against the floor as he chased close behind. I tried to turn the corner, but my socks lost traction. I grabbed a rack of animal crackers and hit the ground, smacking my forehead as the boxes toppled over.

  Not a moment later, Stone was cuffing my hands behind my back.

  “Lipstick, perfume, more lipstick…” He listed off every stolen item from my pockets. Then he patted me down beneath the coat. “DVD, steak… Hey, this was a good movie. I’m going to roll you over.”

  Stone had a perplexed look on his face. “How the hell did you get a steak in your pants?”

  I just blinked at him.

  “I didn’t take you for a T-bone girl myself.” He squatted a moment and looked me over. “I need to search your jean pockets. Do you have anything in there I should know about? Needles, knives, razors?”

  Razors?

  I shook my head and he slipped his fingers into my pockets. “Where’s your ID?”

  My head was pounding and I grimaced.

  Officer Stone peered in my eyes. “You don’t look like the druggie type.”

  “I was going to sell a few chick flicks on the black market to support my habit, but they were all sold out of Meg Ryan.”

  He had a friendly laugh and when he sighed, I broke his train of thought. “We just going to lie here all night, or are you taking me to jail?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get yourself arrested.” He lifted his thumb and forefinger to his mouth, rubbing at the corners. “Someone after you?”

  “No.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “Your socks look pretty tore up, and that might lead me to think that you were homeless, looking for a fresh cot and a meal. But this is a mighty fine coat and I can still smell the damn detergent on your clothes. Boyfriend trouble?” He touched the sleeve. “A man’s coat doesn’t fit you.”

  “Look, I know my rights. I don’t have to tell you shit.”

  He reached in the collar of my shirt and tugged at my necklace. “You steal this too?”

  “If you can take it off, I’ll buy you a beer.”

  Stone pulled back my eyelids and gave me a hard look. “Come on then.” He lifted me up by my armpits and hooked his arm around mine. “Let’s go for a ride. Ernest, open the door,” he yelled out.

  “I want to file charges for assault.”

  Officer Stone stepped up close and Ernest blinked nervously. “You look all right.”

  “She pushed me.”

  “Sleep on it and then decide if you want to lock up a young woman for battery. Feel
free to bring your surveillance footage to the station, because I’m sure the boys would love to have a look,” he said with a stout chuckle.

  Ernest chose to retain his dignity.

  As we crossed the parking lot, Stone tapped his hand on my cheek. “That’s a nasty bump you got. Don’t fall asleep; you might have a concussion.”

  I also hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours. A jail cell with a nice cot sounded great, until I started thinking about cavity searches and public showers.

  “What’s your real name?”

  I answered him with silence.

  “So that’s how it is,” he muttered.

  “Pretty much,” I replied.

  “If you want to post bail, I’d suggest you start remembering.”

  “Hey!” Christian shouted as he crossed the parking lot. “What’s going on here?”

  “Sir, you need to step back,” Stone demanded of the man walking around in the freezing cold with nothing but a white dress shirt and slacks.

  Christian switched his accent to the local one. “She looks like a real tough one, officer. Didn’t mean to interrupt the wheels of justice turning.”

  “Mind telling me where your coat is?” Stone asked, as his fingers tugged at my sleeve.

  “Ask your wife.”

  Which might have insulted the cop had he been wearing a wedding ring. I rolled my eyes at Christian and gave him a severe look that told him to shut up.

  “Is that blood on your shirt?” Stone questioned.

  Christian grinned politely as he looked down and flicked his finger at it. “Ketchup.”

  Stone looked at me and lowered his voice. “Do you know him?” He didn’t care about my answer because he was watching my eye movements and facial expression.

  I pulled my elbow a little closer to my body. “If I do, does that mean I can go?”

  “No, but it might mean that he’ll take a trip with us.”

  “I don’t know him.”

  “Why did I think you would say that?”

  Christian’s strict features made me wince as he rolled down his sleeves. He was pissed.

  “If you two don’t know each other, then you need to get your ass moving,” Stone said.

  We were standing too far apart for Christian to entrance the cop, and it was against the law to kill a human—especially law enforcement.

  My guard paced off with a menacing stride as the cop helped me into the back of his cruiser. I whispered under my breath so only he could hear. “Trust me, Christian. I’m safer this way. I need time to think it through.”

  He raked his hands through his hair from back to front, a peculiar gesture I’d seen him do before. Then again, everything about Christian was peculiar.

  Chapter 24

  “Adam!”

  From across the bar, Adam watched Sunny illuminate the room with her radiant smile. She had her blond hair pinned up in a messy knot, and Knox was by her side—as he always was. It could be thirty below zero and that man would be wearing a formfitting shirt that barely had a thread count.

  Adam had claimed a table in the far corner of the human bar.

  Novis disapproved of socializing with mortals. While he had opened his door to Sunny and Knox because of their friendship to Adam, Novis was indifferent to humans. He’d told Adam on a number of occasions that he shouldn’t get too attached to someone who will die; that it wasn’t good for the soul. The only things worth holding on to were things that you could count on to last: laws, Breed, wisdom, and possessions.

  After the bombing, Adam had been left with his own conclusion about what immortality meant. He watched opportunities wither away. A Mage is chosen—selected by their Creators for their admirable traits and strengths. Therefore, not many of them came with the kind of imperfections that Adam toted around on his face, arms, and chest. The judgment he had endured was brutal. The most painful part about it was losing Cheri—one he had grown to love and trust and who betrayed him. Adam loved too easily, and it would be for the best if he didn’t give away his heart so foolishly.

  Two days after the bombing, Novis expected him to make a public appearance as if nothing had happened. Adam had just recovered from the excruciating ordeal of his scars healing up. He needed time to deal, especially when the guards gave him the cold stares and most definitely when the offers for a Healer were withdrawn.

  Adam felt at ease in the human bars. They stared but eventually got over it. They also didn’t walk right up to you and address it like a Vampire would, or another Mage. He could have a drink in peace and feel like a regular guy just hanging out. Adam wasn’t the only one who’d walked away that night with injuries; he’d heard rumors that at least six of the survivors had committed suicide rather than living life scarred or disabled. That didn’t paint a rosy picture.

  He took a hard sip of his beer as Knox and Sunny approached. Her painted smile told the story. Women had an admirable way of holding a torch in the darkness.

  “Hey, brother.” Knox greeted him. “How’s it hangin’?” He spun the chair around and sat with his arms over the back. “Ready for me to blow your mind?”

  Adam politely stood up until Sunny settled in her chair. She was busy unwrapping herself from a white scarf that was knitted for a giant. Once the hat and matching gloves were neatly folded on the table, she claimed the chair on his right.

  “Hi, Adam. How are you?”

  “Not bad. Is he treating you right?”

  Her shimmery lips smiled wide and she leaned over and kissed Knox on the cheek. “He treats me like gold.”

  Knox’s eyes went half-mast and the tips of his ears turned scarlet. He pulled the ends of his knit hat down, covering them up before swiping Adam’s beer and taking a drink.

  “Adam, how have you been, really?” Sunny pressed. “We haven’t heard from you and Silver’s been wondering when you’re going to come out with us.” She briefly spun around to look at a man singing on stage who was getting a lot of catcalls from the women.

  Knox didn’t look like he wanted to tread on this topic and waved at the waitress to bring him what Adam was having.

  Adam leaned back and rubbed his short, patchy beard. “I’m here. I don’t know what I can tell you.”

  An uncomfortable silence hung between them and quickly ended when the waitress clicked a few bottles on the table and left her card. Her name was Mimi and she couldn’t take her eyes off Knox. That never used to happen, because Knox was a hard-looking man, all rough around the edges. Maybe it was the fact that he smiled a lot more now with Sunny at his side.

  “So what’s up?” Adam asked, tipping his bottle of beer and taking a sip.

  Knox cleared his throat and leaned forward on his elbows. “I got offered a position with HALO.” He watched Adam’s expression and gave him a toothy grin. “No shit. I got contacts all over the place—we both do. In fact, if you’d show interest, they’d snatch you up because your name was mentioned more than once. Remember the dealer we talked about in our old group who’s selling that fucked up magic metal shit on the black market?”

  “Yeah. You find out anything?”

  “I’m on it, and getting close. HALO knows they may never confiscate what’s already out there, but maybe they can stop production.”

  “You accepting the job?”

  “Of course he is,” Sunny answered for him, but in a tone that told Adam they’d argued about it.

  Knox gave her a reassuring look and said, “They don’t have any human representation. I can shed light about what we did in the Special Forces and help them out with some of their investigations whenever they hit a wall because it’s on human turf. I’m telling you,” he marveled, leaning back, “this shit just gets weirder and weirder. Who would have thought a year ago I’d be sitting on the side of the people we were taking out.”

  Sunny cleared her throat and got up. “Ladies’ room,” she announced, and swung her angry hips away.

  “Problems?” Adam smirked.

  Knox chuckled. “N
othing that can’t be taken care of later on tonight when I put my mouth on her.”

  “You don’t deserve a woman like that,” Adam said in a humored voice.

  “You speak truth, brother,” Knox agreed. “I’ll never understand why that woman puts up with my shit, but the God’s honest truth is that I love her more because she does. She still tosses my smokes in the toilet; we can’t seem to come to an agreement about a man enjoying a cigarette after sex.”

  “Or steak. Or a car drive. I’m surprised you hung on for all those months smoking menthols.” Adam snorted and polished off his beer.

  “I’m down to a pack a week,” Knox said proudly, muscles flexing in his dark green T-shirt. “Women don’t want to kiss a smoker; I get it.”

  “So you’re taking the job?”

  Knox picked at the edge of his tight hat. Some called it a beanie, but whatever it was, Knox never left home without it. “Can’t deny the pay is outstanding. It’ll be more behind-the-scenes shit so my woman won’t have to worry about me getting up in the middle of the night, strapping on guns, and going on a raid. This is right up my alley.”

  Then the weird silence loomed again.

  Knox cleared his throat and leaned in privately. “Is it something you’d want to do? Hell, I’d love having you in. It would be like old times.”

  Adam shook his head. He had something else on his mind and didn’t need the distraction of playing cloak and dagger.

  Knox rubbed his jaw and released a disappointed sigh through his nose.

  “When did this all happen?” Adam turned around at a few shouts coming from some obnoxious pool players. The singer had left the stage and the jukebox played at a tolerable level.

  “They gave me a practice run to test out my skills. My first job was—get this—Marco Fucking De Gradi. Justus doesn’t want to deal with him. I think after taking out Merc, he’s afraid he’ll do the same to his own Creator.”

  Adam cursed. “There’re laws against killing your Creator.”

  “Exactly,” Knox said. The chair creaked and he curled his hands into fists, deep in thought. “I’m glad I gave that bastard what he had coming. You don’t mess around with my girl and walk away.”