Double-Sided Magic (Legacy Series Book 1)

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Double-Sided Magic (Legacy Series Book 1) Page 14

by McKenzie Hunter


  I almost laughed at both his exasperated boredom with the Council and because he considered himself alive. He was a hot zombie—that’s it. Instead of eating flesh he drank blood. And watching him consciously take inconsistent breaths, I assumed to make me feel more comfortable, was a freak show in itself.

  “Gareth, the years I’ve dedicated of my time demonstrate my commitment to them. When I was forbidden to send a surrogate any longer, I gave them more than they deserved. My statement still stands.”

  “Lucas …”

  “Good night, Gareth.” And he turned to focus on the exquisite view of the city that the picture window provided

  “No.” Gareth’s voice was hard with command. So much that Lucas turned from the captivating sights. “I understand your anger; I feel it, too. Yesterday, we were attacked by controlled shifters. But I can’t allow you to behave like some vigilante. If you find him before I do, you will act on behalf of the Council and call me.”

  “My friend, that is where we part ways. Your dedication to the Council and your role as the head of the Guild are admirable, but your control is still limited when it comes to me. I am not your subordinate. I’ve existed before these rules and chain of commands that bind us today and, unfortunately, as I’ve conformed so much to the new world, that subjugation is beyond my ability. I will not interfere in any way, but if I find the culprit before you do, I will extend my own justice.”

  Lucas moved from the window, with the speed and grace I’d expected from a vampire. Although he’d moved in slow measured steps before, giving the illusion of someone I shouldn’t fear, I hadn’t been fooled. The obsidian eyes watched me with such intensity it was as though we were the only ones in the room. His fingers lightly brushed against my skin as he took hold of the cross, letting it settle in the palm of his hand as he examined it. His smiled gilded with amusement as he lifted his eyes to look at me. “I do hope that you and Savannah come to visit at a better time. I would very much like to entertain you without such other ugliness occupying my time.” His voice dropped to a low deep silkiness.

  I smiled, and it was the fakest, most insincere one I could muster as I took a step back. The cross slipped out of his hand with ease leaving him unaffected. A myth refuted with a simple sleight of hand.

  “Of course. Sometime later will be great.” My voice matched his, low and soft, my noncommittal acceptance as sincere as his offer. There was absolutely no way in hell I was planning to come back to visit him and let him entertain. That was clearly out of the question.

  Whether he believed me or not, a self-assured confidence blossomed on his face as though he was aware of something I wasn’t. Whether I intended for it to never happen, he intended otherwise.

  An hour after Gareth had dropped me off I still couldn’t get all the things that were going on in my mind to settle. Someone was using magic that wasn’t available to faes, witches, or mages. Once again I invited myself to go with Gareth, this time to meet the sire of the vampires who had attacked us at Crimson. He declined this time. Which was fine. There was more to this than the necromancer and I wanted to find out.

  I couldn’t put the pieces together because none made sense. There was a vital part missing, but I didn’t know what. My mind couldn’t calm enough to fall asleep, which was why three hours after Gareth had taken me home I was traipsing through the woods behind the trail I usually ran on, walking toward the cave pit I’d used when I performed magic on the Tracker. I didn’t use magic often, and when I did I made sure it was in the confines of the cave pit where it was the most secured. I dropped down in the darkness, flashlight under my neck. The small glint of light that the moon offered died out as I closed the cover.

  In the cave, I burrowed the flashlight in the loose dirt. I needed to see if my suspicions were correct and a Legacy was near. That wouldn’t necessary explain the necromancy and the animancy, we had magic that affected both, but I wasn’t sure if it was -mancy ability. But there could have been a spell. And for the first time in a long time, it bothered me that my parents didn’t teach me all the spells they knew. If it was a Legacy, it didn’t explain the deaths and the stolen Necro-spear. I couldn’t imagine one person was doing all of this. Whenever I moved somewhere I often checked to see if there was a Legacy nearby, the way my parents taught me. It seemed like it would be a good thing for another one to be near us, but it wasn’t. If it was one who wasn’t doing a good job of hiding himself, then he could be outted to the Trackers and put us at risk of being discovered. So we were careful to make sure that there weren’t any around because we were always careful—until we weren’t. And when we weren’t my parents paid with their lives.

  The cave was comforting to me, surrounded by the smell of the earth, closed away from the world. The confined spaced made me feel free, unrestricted by the laws and rules that bound me. Here I could practice my magic with freedom without the risk of being discovered. Nothing was ever foolproof but the risk decreased significantly.

  I checked the cover to make sure I had closed it all the way before I knelt down. I scooped loose grains of dirt into my hand and let them settle against my palm.

  I didn’t know why I always did it, I felt connected to it. Dirt was the foundation of it all, and in some way—I—we were the foundation of magic. Raw, undiluted power. In a world that wanted me dead it was hard to appreciate it. I grabbed one of the twins out of the sheath and slipped it across my hand and the blood that welled I used it to draw a line across the ground. Then I whispered an incantation, performing one of the few spells my mother had taught me. The magic peaked, sparks of color, pink, blue, yellows, swirled around in a chaotic dance, bouncing independent of each other until they merged, forming a sheet that spread, darkening into a muted brown background. Light flowed over it, flicked along the long space. I knew it wasn’t a lot of area, maybe a hundred-mile radius. A red spot shot off the sheet—my location. I waited as the colors washed over the board, bursts of other colors to indicate where magic was. It was a bursting firecracker of colors: faes, witches, mages. The Cleanse had killed so many, yet so many existed. I didn’t agree with HF, but I could understand their concern. There were so many. I wasn’t concerned about them. I was on the hunt for something else, I scanned the area looking for that red light. Another Legacy. My attention focused on a light that wavered, hints of red twitched and then went out as fast as they would show. Long enough to be seen but not enough for me to identify the location.

  There was one in town. He might be hiding, but he wasn’t innocent. I cursed under my breath. I had to find him. I ended the spell, watching as the colors pulled away as though they never existed as one by one they disappeared into the ether.

  Just as I stood I heard light steps that echoed into the cavernous pit, so soft that if there were any noise at all they would have been missed. I climbed up the ladder and pushed at the cover. It wouldn’t budge. I was locked in. Holding a ball of magic in my hand, I hurled it at the cover; it slammed into it and withered into nothing as though it never existed. I didn’t know what that was. A ward? If so, how did they arm it? I didn’t have time to analyze it or try another spell, the steps were closer, just a few feet away.

  I hopped down from the ladder and pulled the twins out of their sheath on my back and held them as the steps came closer. Out of the darkness of the pit, I heard one, no two, sets of steps approach me fast. Ginger and All-American emerged. Their dark eyes were empty and withdrawn as they had been before, piloted by an unknown force. With his dark eyes fixed on me as the target, All-American lunged. He moved slower than most vampires, jerky and stilted. Vampire slow was still human’s full-out speed and even mine. Mechanical movement made it obvious someone was controlling them, or perhaps their creator was trying to regain control. They halted, then lunged, erratic uncoordinated movements. I didn’t want to kill them—they weren’t acting on their own but on the command of someone else. I called the magic as I tried to push open the cover. Nothing. How powerful was this person to be a
ble to control vampires while using defensive magic? I pumped magic through the sai; a spark, a light magical shove moved them back, nothing like the magic I exerted. Again, I blasted another shot at the lid. Nothing.

  Ginger jumped at me, fangs bared as he soared, at the speed I was used to coming from a vampire. A powerful front kick shoved him back a few feet. He attacked again; my elbow slammed into his nose, blood spurted. I side kicked him and he went back again. All-American caught the handle of the sai, on the bridge of his nose. He winced, and I lunged forward and planted one of the sai into his stomach, driving him back and pinning him to the crumbling rocks. He was secured against them. In pain. But that was fine. He’d get over it a lot faster than I would get over being dead. Ginger dodged my sai. I hated fighting with just one. Two was always better. Where one would fail, her twin was sure to succeed.

  He struck me in the back, sending me face-first into the wall. Pain seared through me, causing my eyes to water. The last thing I needed was to fight a vamp with compromised vision. I turned in time to see his hazy figure come at me. His hand swiped against me and I hit the ground with a thud. I rolled out of the way, just as his foot came down, barely missing me. Trying not to kill him lost priority. Stay alive—number-one goal.

  I rolled over the ground and grabbed the sai that I’d lost when he hit me and thrust it into his leg. He growled as blood gushed and then I kicked at his groin. He folded in pain—vamp or not, a nut-kick is a woman’s best friend. I pulled out the sai from his leg, drove it into his gut, and plunged him into the wall. The patter of more steps filled the dark space. Fuck.

  I grabbed the knife from my ankle sheath, hoping that the pinned vamps with all their thrashing didn’t manage to dislodge themselves. My vision was still blurry, but better. I couldn’t wipe my eyes with my arms or clothes because there wasn’t a spot that wasn’t covered with dirt or blood. My heart raced: the steps were lighter, nimble—a fighter, not just some random vamp. Adrenaline still pumped in me, but I was starting to feel the ache and waiting was killing me.

  He burst through the darkness wearing a light suit similar to the one he wore earlier. Lucas. Brushing past at such speeds he seemed like a ghost who appeared next to me and disappeared before I could register its existence. Sword in hand, which I didn’t notice on his approach. A quick strike and both vampires slumped down. He pulled out the sai and they dropped to the ground, and within seconds their bodies were ashes that blended with the dirt in the cave.

  The sword gone, Lucas’s hand was over my elbow as he guided me up the ladder. He punched at the cover; it didn’t budge. After another failed attempt he dropped down, a bruising grip around my arm as he pulled me through the cave. It was happening too fast and I hated being manhandled by someone who had just killed two vamps whom I’d tried to save.

  I stopped abruptly and yanked my arm from him, still feeling the warmth from his grip form a band around it and surely leaving a bruise in the morning. “What the hell did you just do?”

  “I took care of the problem.”He took hold of my arm again. I couldn’t see him, it was too dark and the flashlight was on the other side. I wasn’t sure how far we’d walked because I was nearly running trying to keep up with Lucas. I wasn’t positive that I wouldn’t have fallen if he’d just dragged me along.

  “They were being controlled by someone else,” I hissed, angered by him killing them and nearly dragging me through the dark.

  I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the cool drift in his voice. I was sure his face would be just as hard and impassive and was glad I didn’t have to see it.

  “Yes, this is the second time they’ve been used to do someone’s bidding. Clearly their sire couldn’t overpower him and that is a problem. They are the youngest, the weakest. Now they can no longer be used. Others will stand a better chance against being controlled.” He sighed for my sake because he didn’t need to breathe. I guessed it was important that he let me know he was at the end of his patience with being questioned. “Please, Olivia, I do loathe being underground.” And with that he guided me along, although his grip loosened significantly once we neared another exit out of the cave.

  He let me go first, and the moment I hit the surface I heard Gareth call my name. What was this, a repeat of just a few hours ago? I didn’t feel like being questioned or making up a story to justify why I was in a cave at four o’clock in the morning.

  Gareth gave me a once-over, frowned, and then directed his attention to Lucas.

  “She was being attacked by my vampires, I took care of it.” And with that he started toward a car several feet away. He looked back at me but I couldn’t read the expression on his face. The piercing dark midnight eyes bored into me, making things uncomfortable. Did he sense magic, see what I’d done with it, or wonder why I kept getting attacked? Welcome to the club, buddy, I’m wondering why I keep getting attacked, too.

  I could see the curiosity on Gareth’s face. Lips that were usually pulled in a tight line were draw back even tighter, eyes dulled with annoyance, and his arms were crossed over his chest bulging with muscle and defined from his tension.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, letting irritation linger over my words. His predator’s gaze widened just a smidge. Yes, sir I just pulled that. I had to beat him to the questioning because I didn’t have an answer that would make sense and justify being in a cave at 4 a.m. And frankly I had better things to do than to think of something. Sodden from sweat and blood my shirt clung to my body. Fatigue from the use of strong magic and fighting for my life had settled on me, and I needed to rest. My mind was racing with a multitude of thoughts and fatigue didn’t allow the mental acuity I needed to sort it all out. Was it the Legacy behind the attacks and the murders? If so, why? And how did I stop him? Was he something different? To my knowledge, we only had animancy abilities, not necromancy. Magic wasn’t immune to evolutionary changes; was this a new Legacy? It didn’t matter if they were causing all of this chaos; I had to stop them before anyone else found them. I wished my motives weren’t entirely selfish. I needed to stop them, because if they were caught by the Guild our existence wouldn’t just be the psychobabble of the Trackers, but an indictment of our existence and the malice we were capable of. A ringing endorsement of why we were hunted and considered dead on sight. If self-preservation was selfish—so be it.

  “Savannah said you were missing?”

  Damn. Her mother-henning is going to ruin me.

  “How did you know I was here?” I asked, startled.

  “I tracked you here.”

  I assumed I knew what he was saying, but before I went into panic freak-out mode, I calmed myself down and asked, “How did you do that?”

  “I know your scent. Once I know a person’s scent I can track them anywhere in the city unless they mask it with magic.”

  Yeah, that’s way up there with being one of the freakiest and scariest things I’ve learned about shifters. “And this can be done by all shifters??

  He nodded. “Some are better than others, but yes, it can be done. My senses are a little keener.”

  I’m pretty sure this wasn’t the right time to ask how to circumvent it, but I put it on my mental to-do list to find out.

  I nodded as I started to back away, looking around the area trying to get my bearings. I just wanted to get away from Gareth and the pit, which I probably couldn’t use ever again.

  I didn’t know how far I was from my car. Lucas had been pulling me so fast I had no idea how far we’d walked. Was it a few blocks or miles?

  “It’s on the other side about two miles away.” The look of curiosity had heightened, marring his features. “I will take you home,” he said as he started toward his car just a few feet away. The image of him driving with his head out the window trying to catch my scent brought a smile to my face.

  He hadn’t misspoken. Once we got in his car, he turned around and headed in the opposite direction of my car.

  “Where are you taking me?”

&
nbsp; “Home, like I said.”

  “I thought you misspoke. Take me to my car.” I added a please because my words had lost all pleasantness and I sounded rude. I really needed a shower and a nap.

  “No.” He didn’t mind sounding rude. His voice was hard and decisive. “Maybe if you don’t have a car, then you’ll stay out of trouble.”

  That was twice now that men had just started bossing me around, and it really left me unsettled. “I want you to take me to my car.”

  “Want’s a funny thing, isn’t it? I want you to tell me why you were in a cave at night fighting vampires and have the strong smell of magic coming off you. Yet I’m sure I’m not going to get my wants satisfied.”

  He sped down the street. I glanced at the speedometer—ninety. Jumping out of the car wasn’t an option, and because there wasn’t a lot of traffic, he barely stopped at signs and treated red lights like they were a suggestion. Nice behavior, Mr. Head of the Guild.

  The car had barely come to a stop when I started to open the door, making sure not to give him an opportunity to question me. I needed time to come up with something.

  “Ms. Michaels. I want you to shower, get a good night’s rest, and come up with a believable story about why you were out tonight and reek of magic. We can discuss it over brunch tomorrow at twelve.”

  I shrugged and sighed. “I was just out for a walk and saw the open pit and decided to explore.” Oh, that was just an awful one. He was right, I did need some time to come up with something good.

  The expression on his face was stern, all business. Usually there was a little hint of amusement, a smirk ready to emerge—but now there wasn’t anything but pure stoicism. And he spoke with a grating deep voice. I was sure it was the one he used before someone got a really bad smackdown, whether physical or verbal. “You asked me not to threaten you with jail. Fine, I won’t mention jail. What you are doing is obstruction. What do you think happens to people who do that?”

 

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