Magic on the Storm ab-4

by Devon Monk

  Whatever. I was not going to just sit there and listen to him insult my friend.

  It took Shame a full five minutes to finally let go of the cheese knife under the table, and place it back on the table. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t say anything. Just rolled his head down and stared off on some middle distance.

  “So, he’s a prick,” I said. “Want to talk?”

  He shook his head imperceptibly. I didn’t push him on it. I’d always thought Shame was straight. Not that it mattered. If Mike had wanted to make Shame angry, he’d done a bang-up job of it.

  I glanced around the room, looking for Zayvion. He was absorbed in a quiet, intense conversation with another man I’d never met. The man with Zay was slender and tall, wore black slacks and a black turtleneck, and held himself with an elegance that made me think of historical movies with sword fights and aristocrats. His hair was so blond, it was white, and long enough it fell between his shoulder blades, pulled back and banded. He and Zayvion were both turned half toward us, talking quietly, but also with hand gestures, as if they had a lot to say, and not enough time to cover it with words alone.

  Hoping to change the mood, I nudged Shame.

  “So who’s Zay with now?”

  Shame blinked and seemed to come back from a long, long distance. He inhaled, and looked in the direction of my gaze.

  “Terric,” he breathed.

  It wasn’t the sound of a man who hated another man. No. In that one word, in that one name, was longing, need, the sound of something precious lost.

  I didn’t realize they had been intimate. Or maybe they hadn’t. Maybe the draw between Soul Complements wasn’t about the sex. Maybe it was just about magic. Using it, having it, letting it use you, immersed and joined by it in ways unimaginable. Power.

  Whatever it was, Shame’s body language was that of a starving man using all his strength not to yield to the poisoned feast before him.

  I thought about putting my hand on his arm to console him, and decided against it. Shame was keyed up and I didn’t want to get a cheese knife in the throat.

  “Zay and him friends?” I asked instead, trying to draw Shame down.

  “We all were once.” Saying that seemed to help. He closed his eyes a moment. Maybe he realized he was sitting on the edge of his seat. He relaxed in stages back into his normal slouch and rubbed his gloved hand over his eyes.

  “Balls,” he said. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

  “Were you and Terric lovers?”

  “No.” He sighed behind his gloves. “I’m not gay. But that man. .” He pulled his hand away from his eyes. “Soul Complements. It’s. .” He just shook his head. “Him and me. . and magic? No. It doesn’t-can’t-work.”

  “Did you refuse to be tested to see if you and he were Soul Complements because you were afraid you might want sex with him?” Yes, I am tactful that way. And also stupid.

  He stared at me for a moment. “It’s good you and I are friends, Beckstrom,” he finally said. “Because I’m willing to ignore that ridiculous nonsense that just fell out of your mouth. It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with sex, okay? There were other reasons, other. . bad things.”

  “Like?”

  “Like I’m done talking about it. And like I wish Mum had ponied up a bottle or two of wine right about now.”

  “I can see why she wouldn’t want to serve alcohol to a roomful of trigger-happy magic users,” I said.

  “She doesn’t have to feed it to the magic users. She could just feed it to me.”

  “I’ll buy you a beer if you give me a who’s who on the rest of the people here.”

  “Done.” He sat and leaned his elbows on the table. “The three women laughing over there? Dark wavy hair, coffee skin, and beautiful matching sets of big, lovely-”

  I slapped him on the arm.

  “Hey. Eyes. I was going to say eyes. What were you thinking? They’re the Georgia sisters. Life magic. The blonde next to them, about Mum’s age in the biker jacket who looks like she can wrestle an alligator? Darla. Death magic.”

  He shifted in his seat a little. “The Russian underwear model over there is Nik Pavloski, and the family man next to him is a sweet-hearted killer named Joshua Romero. Faith magic-that means they’re both Closers. At the table near the wall is the ass wipe, Barham. Life magic, and the woman sitting next to him who looks like she hates him-petite, pale, black hair with a red streak, and a knockout scowl-Paige Iwamoto. She’s Blood magic. Stab him, baby-you know he deserves it.” Shame licked his lips and stared at Paige, as if he could will her to wield the cheese knife.

  “Shame,” I said.

  He looked away from Paige and Mike, giving the room a subtle glance while he reached for a piece of bread. He would make a good spy.

  “You know the rest of the people in the room, I think.”

  I looked around, the remaining people standing and sitting at the other tables: Kevin Cooper, Violet’s bodyguard; Sunny, whose demeanor was the exact opposite of her name; Ethan Katz, who was my dad’s and now my accountant; the twins Carl and La, whom I’d seen briefly at my test; the ex-quarterback-looking dude whom I’d also seen briefly at my test; and a few other suits-two women and a man-board members from Beckstrom Enterprises I’d met over the last couple weeks. The rest of the people I’d seen off and on at Maeve’s, but hadn’t been officially introduced to.

  “Pretty much,” I said.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, about that beer.”

  “If I could please have your attention.”

  I glanced at the front of the room. Victor, trim and gray-haired, stood behind the long table, an open laptop in front of him. His suit jacket hung on the back of the chair, along with his tie, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbow. Even from this distance, I could see that his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he’d just been through the longest meeting of his life, and been elected to stand up and give everyone the bad news.

  Maeve, looking more composed and refreshed than Victor, sat to his left. Next to her was Liddy Salberg, a quiet, mousy woman, who took plain to the extreme. I’d first seen her at my dad’s burial. She’d also been at my test, and she’d since been my teacher in Death magic. I never seemed to get a good read off her body language. That mousy exterior hid something else-I was sure of it-though I’d never seen her be anything but polite and professional.

  Still, I got the impression that she didn’t like me, or that I made her nervous.

  At her left was Sedra, the head of the Authority in Portland. Always cool, always portrait-perfect, her unchanging expression and porcelain complexion made her look like she was carved out of marble. Only her blue eyes gave her a hint of life. Her bodyguard, Dane Lannister, stood behind her, looking how he always looked: relaxed and deadly. There was something about him that made me pause, like a bad taste in my mouth, but try as I might, I couldn’t think of what it was about him that bothered me.

  Instead, I wondered who usually filled the empty seat next to Sedra, wondered if perhaps it had been my father.

  Interestingly, Jingo Jingo, who usually made himself a part of any gathering, was nowhere to be seen.

  Weird.

  “Please be seated, so we may begin,” Victor said.

  Everyone made their way to seats, filling the tables ahead of us, and behind us.

  “Please, please, please,” Shame whispered so quietly, I wasn’t sure if he said it or I imagined he did.

  Zay and Terric walked toward us, a study in opposites, and yet both powerful, calm, confident. Terric angled to take the seat next to Paige. Zay sat next to me, shifting his chair so he could better see the front of the room.

  “Exhale before your head explodes,” Zay said quietly. “He’s not coming to the table.”

  Shame exhaled.

  Victor began speaking. “As many of you have heard, we have an unprecedented warning that a wild-magic storm will be hitting the Portland area soon. We think it will strike within the next forty
-eight hours. That gives us some time to coordinate our efforts and work together against this threat.”

  He paused, taking the time to make some eye contact. I’d seen my dad do that when he was facing a hostile audience. While Victor did that, I glanced at the body language within my range of sight.

  Tight. Pensive. Maybe not explosive but damn close. Pretty much the same as when I’d walked in.

  I’d already figured that these people were secretive and suspicious. But until this moment, I hadn’t realized that these people barely tolerated one another.

  Neat.

  That brewing war? I’d put my bet on the table that it was done brewing. All it needed now was a spark to set it off.

  My stomach clenched as I realized the war might already be on, and lines might already be drawn as to who should use magic, and how it should be used. And I had no idea who wanted what, nor whose side I was on.

  I reached back in my head to see if Dad had something to say about all this, but he had been quiet as a corpse-ha, not funny-ever since I walked through that door.

  I had the feeling he didn’t much want to give Liddy or Jingo Jingo or anyone else an excuse to go digging around in my head looking for him.

  Victor was done with the eye-contact pause.

  “Our largest concern for the citizens of the area is that the wild magic will interrupt, or warp, the spells already in place in the city. We’ve compiled a detailed list of businesses and services that we will monitor and protect, and prioritized them from the most vital to the least, and divided that by the quadrants of the city. Since St. Johns has no conduits for magic, we’ll just need to cover four of the five quadrants.”

  He glanced down at the laptop, then back up. “I know many of you have. . vested concerns in the way magic is made available to the public. Here in this city, and in others. Now is not the time to push those agendas forward. Loss of life has never been the Authority’s goal, and certainly now, more than any other time, a significant loss of life at the hand, influence, or neglect of a member of the Authority would carry dire consequences to any and all involved.”

  Threats. There’s a neat way to ruin friendships and attract enemies.

  “We’ve put together a suggested list of which businesses and services we’d like members to monitor. It’s been an. . exhausting few days.” He took a drink of water.

  “This list isn’t perfect. I’m sure there will be changes. We’ll distribute it in a moment. Are there any questions so far?”

  There were. About forty-five minutes of questions, most of them dealing with things I did not understand. It was like everyone had suddenly switched to a foreign language, half of which sounded like it dealt with magic, and the other half sounded like some kind of underground lingo.

  “Should I be understanding any of this?”

  Zay leaned back a bit. “It’s pretty standard elbowing and power plays for who gets to do what.”

  He didn’t look concerned, so I took his lead and passed the time trying to remember names and what kinds of magic the people in the room preferred to use.

  The gathered members of the Authority were pretty evenly split between the four disciplines-well, five if you counted the mix of magic and technology my dad had pushed into use.

  But watching how they spoke to one another, or more so, how they didn’t speak or look at one another, I could see the tension, the cracks and fractures, between them, divided not by what magic they used but rather by who should use it, and how.

  And I found it fascinating-no, frightening-that no one had mentioned that there was the very real possibility that the well was already being affected by the coming storm. The magic in it was being drained-maybe by the storm. Seemed to me that we had two potential disasters on the horizon.

  Perhaps that went without saying.

  It sucked to be the newest kid in the club. And I hadn’t even earned my decoder ring.

  Sedra stood. Everyone watched her, waiting. It wasn’t exactly reverence, but more a shared acknowledgment that she would make the decisions they would all have to live with. For good and bad.

  “We will set spells in place to further monitor vital systems and services throughout the city,” she said, her musical voice at contrast with her strict demeanor. “But until the storm hits, we wait.”

  You couldn’t have quieted a room faster if you’d shoved a sock in every mouth.

  Zayvion looked Zen on the outside, but inside he burned with anger.

  “I thought it was agreed we would coordinate our efforts,” he said, his quiet voice filling the room.

  “That,” Terric said, “is what I also understood. We would plan for the worst, and meet it head-on. We have time on our side for once. We can plan how to mitigate the magical onslaught.”

  With every word Terric spoke, Shamus hunkered into himself, his hands tucked into his pockets, one shoulder hitched as if he could deflect the pain.

  Sedra gave both men a cool, emotionless gaze. “Closers,” she said, like it was a dirty word she didn’t want in her mouth, “will need to watch for gates opening, for breaches between life and death. I expect you are willing to do your duty and abide by the wisdom of the Voices of the Authority?”

  Voices. She meant the highest-level magic users: Maeve, Victor, Liddy, and Sedra herself. My father too, once, though no one had yet taken his position.

  “I will do what is asked of me,” Terric said.

  “Zayvion?” she asked. “Will you abide by the wisdom of the Authority?”

  Okay, I was starting to dislike her imperious, overly formal, condescending tone. Oh, who was I kidding? I hated the way she high-handed people. I’d watched it over the last couple months. When this woman said jump, everyone asked her when they should come back down.

  Yes, she was the head of the Authority. But there was something unrelenting about the woman. As if she had to work hard to cover her hatred for everything and everyone around her. And I knew Zayvion Jones, the gate-guardian-do-my-duty-until-death, would bow to her just like everyone else.

  “I’ll do everything in my power to keep the city safe,” Zayvion said.

  Well, well. Not exactly a “yes, ma’am.” I wondered whether she would let it pass.

  “So let me get this right,” Hayden said. The burly giant was standing by the door, arms crossed over his wide chest. If Zayvion’s voice had been loud, Hayden’s was thunder. “No pre-spells, no triggers, no traps, filters, no backup conduits or overload lines? How exactly are we supposed to keep these places, hospitals, prisons, nursing homes, warded from the effects of the storm?”

  Victor nodded. “We’ve decided to approach this with as little magic use as possible because of how powerful the storm appears to be. Too many spells and too many members supporting those spells, managing the pain-even with Proxies-will limit how quickly we can react when the storm hits.”

  “The big plan here is to wait and see how bad we’re beat before we start fighting?” Hayden chuckled. “There’s a winning strategy.”

  Victor glared at Hayden, but the big man just put his hand out, as if to say it wasn’t his bright idea.

  “All considerations have been addressed, Mr. Kellerman,” Victor said. “We work together, as we have worked together in bygone times. If we fight each other, there will be consequences that will benefit none of us.”

  “Well, then.” Hayden clapped his hands together and so effectively broke the tension building in the room, I wondered if he’d cast a spell. “Sounds like all that’s left is to gut and clean. What part of town am I covering?”

  He strode across the room toward Victor. As he passed, people sort of shook off the intensity of the meeting. Smaller conversations cropped up again, and people stood, stretched. Shame was on his feet, and heading to the lunch counter and bar at the back of the room. I turned to watch him. I wasn’t the only one.

  Terric shifted in his chair, and stared at Shame’s back. His expression seemed calm, but the tightness at the edges of his eyes, i
n the angle of his jaw, spoke of restraint. And desire.

  Interesting.

  Shame slipped behind the lunch counter and dug around for something. I heard the thick clink of beer bottles; then Shame reappeared, three beers caught in the fingers of one hand, the fourth already pressed to his lips.

  He lowered the beer, grinned at me, and then strode over, changing his gaze to meet Terric’s straight on.

  Boy didn’t run from trouble. That was sure.

  Terric stood and walked over to our table. Looked like he didn’t run from trouble either.

  Zay turned to face Shame too. Shame was still grinning. Since I was not about to be the only person sitting if this was going to turn into a brawl, I stood as well.

  “Allie.” Shame offered me a beer. “You still owe me.”

  I took it even though I didn’t like beer.

  “Zay.” Zayvion, behind me, reached over my shoulder and took the beer Shame offered.

  “Terric.” Shame extended the last beer to him.

  Terric took the beer. “Think you owe me more than a beer, Shamus.”

  Shame’s heartbeat rose, but I didn’t think the other men noticed. They weren’t Hounds. They didn’t have to live off instinct and the subtle shifts in the people around them to survive.

  “Well, today you’re getting a beer,” Shamus said. He tipped his and gave us all a half nod. “To the hunt. To the kill. Till the world stands still.”

  “To the hunt,” Zay and Terric said.

  I just raised my beer and took a tiny sip. Nope. Still didn’t like the stuff.

  “I heard about Greyson,” Terric said.

  Shame nodded. “Have you seen him?”

  “I just got in a couple hours ago.”

  Shame glanced around the room. “It’s not like they’ll let us out of this, but we’ve got a few minutes. Want to see?”

  Zay took another drink of his beer. He wrapped his hand around my hip and hooked his thumb in my front pocket, the heel of his hand pressed against my hip bone. This close, I could feel his worry and anger that did not show through that Zen exterior. I didn’t know exactly what he was angry about.