Steel for 5 (Mags & Nats Book 3)

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Steel for 5 (Mags & Nats Book 3) Page 20

by Stephanie Fazio

I still didn’t agree with what he was doing, and I’d do everything in my power to prevent him from making any more of the Magical Reduction Potion. But for the first time, I was beginning to understand him.

  CHAPTER 27

  By the time we wrapped up for the night, it was three in the morning. The living room floor was strewn with hand-drawn maps of what we remembered from the mine, lists of information we’d gathered, and law texts.

  Graysen had gone through every relevant national law and inter-territory policy before confirming there was nothing that could force the Californians to dismantle the mine. The Alliance had no jurisdiction outside of Boston, and the US Federal Security Enforcers hadn’t gone into California in decades.

  That left us with only one option: diplomacy.

  Graysen had an idea but wouldn’t say anything more until he’d worked it out. He and Kaira shut themselves in their study with the promise that they’d have answers for us by the morning.

  In the meantime, there was nothing to do but wait.

  There was no way I’d ever be able to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about that underground tomb full of child-sized caskets and the empty-eyed child slaves who had never seen the sunlight. My mom’s words from earlier in the night ran through my mind on loop.

  If it turns out Lilly really is dead, Sarah won’t survive.

  I did jumping jacks until I was ready to drop. Then, I got in the shower to wash off my ordeal in the isolation chamber. I soaped up twice, thinking all the while about the slaves who had probably never had a proper shower…or meal…in their lives.

  I got into bed with a pile of Alliance work that had accumulated over the last day. I was just filling out my report on Valencia’s most recent stunt when I heard a tapping at my window.

  Usually, my friendly woodpecker came by in the morning. Then again, a glance at my clock revealed it was morning.

  “Go to bed, Herbert,” I called. “You’re about two hours too early.”

  The tapping came again, more insistently this time.

  I got out of bed and went to the window. I drew aside the blind.

  “Herbert—”

  I let out a strangled scream. Diego was hovering outside my third-story window. While my heart pounded out of my chest, Diego opened my window and regarded me with his signature amused smirk.

  “Who the hell is Herbert, and do I need to kill him?”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, clutching my racing heart.

  Diego didn’t answer. His gaze had dropped and was laser-focused.

  When I realized what had captured his attention, I swore. I was wearing nothing except a skimpy tank top and panties.

  “Don’t look,” I ordered, hurrying over to my dresser.

  “You may as well tell me not to breathe.”

  Diego folded himself through my window without waiting for an invitation. The drawer I was opening slammed shut before I could extract a pair of oversized sweatpants. I spun around to find Diego only inches away. He caged my body with his, his palms resting on the wall on either side of my head.

  “Oh no,” I said. “This is so not happening.”

  “Oh yes.” Diego leaned close enough for me to smell his cinnamon gum. “It so is.”

  Diego kissed me.

  I meant to push him away, but I’d forgotten how good he was at this. My arms came around his neck before I even knew what was happening.

  “Diego—”

  He lifted me onto the dresser and deepened the kiss. And I was a gonner.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I murmured as his lips traced a line of fire down my neck. The bristles of his close-shaved beard teased my sensitive skin.

  “Then tell me to leave.”

  Almost instinctively, I locked my arms around him to prevent him from going anywhere. His fingers dug into my wet hair, massaging my neck as he stole my breath.

  “Mi pequeña diabla,” Diego murmured against my lips.

  My little devil. Smart-ass.

  “You drive me crazy,” he said as he slid his hands up my shirt.

  “Ditto,” I managed, gasping as his palm trailed across my ribcage.

  “If you don’t want this,” Diego said, as out of breath as I was, “tell me now.”

  I should tell him to stop. Diego and I were enemies, and if my friends knew he was in our house, they would lose their minds…and then arrest him.

  But Diego was making me feel more with just a kiss than anyone had made me feel…ever.

  “I want this,” I said.

  “Good answer.”

  There was something predatory and possessive in the way he touched me. He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle, either. He was confident to the point of arrogant. It was sexy as hell.

  He pushed my legs apart with his thigh, rubbing against me in just the right spot. Diego swallowed my moan with another hard kiss.

  If things were this intense when we were both dressed, what would it be like to have sex with him?

  I’d only ever gone all the way with Jordan, my high school boyfriend. Having sex with Jordan had been…sweet.

  There was nothing sweet about Diego.

  He whispered in Spanish as his hands explored my body. My brain was too occupied with sensation to translate, but I understood the tenor of his words. He was as turned on as I was.

  Diego’s fingers hooked around the edges of my panties, making me writhe against him. A sound I didn’t even recognize came out of me. My body convulsed as pinpricks of heat lit up my insides, and a glass picture frame balanced on my dresser crashed to the floor.

  “Bri?” a sharp knock at the door had Diego and I wrenching apart. “Are you okay?”

  Yutika.

  I could barely breathe, let alone speak.

  “Bri? Ohmygod, did you faint? I’m coming in.”

  “No,” I gasped, just as the doorknob turned. Diego gave me a devilish grin before blurring out of sight.

  I threw myself across the room and into my bed, yanking up the covers. Yutika stepped into my room, her brow furrowed in concern.

  “Sorry.” Her frown deepened. “I thought I heard you cry out, or something.”

  “I—” I cleared my throat. “Just a dream.”

  I looked down at the comforter bunched in my fists. I’d never lied to any of the Seven before. And my reason for doing so now made everything even worse.

  “Oh.” Yutika came over and sat on the bed. “This must all be so hard for you, I can’t even imagine. Want me to stay with you tonight? I could bust out my emergency jelly bean supply and we could binge a cooking show.”

  Now, I felt even worse.

  “Thanks, but I think I just need to sleep,” I said, feeling my cheeks grow hot as I stared my friend in the eye and lied to her.

  Yutika nodded in understanding. “If you need anything, just shout.”

  She reached over and hugged me. I held my breath, terrified she would smell cinnamon and trouble all over me.

  I didn’t breathe again until Yutika had shut my door. I wilted, letting my head fall back against the headboard. I was like a teenager sneaking around with her boyfriend…except Diego wasn’t my boyfriend.

  Diego dropped his camouflage and stepped away from the wall.

  “Next time, we’ll have to go to my place,” he said, smirking. “In the meantime, wanna get out of here?”

  “Where are we going?” I asked warily.

  Now that my lust had cooled, I realized what a horrible idea it would be to get close to Diego. Our chemistry might be through the roof, but that didn’t mean we had any business being together. Not that we were…together.

  “Put on some warm clothes.” Diego watched me appreciatively as I wriggled out from under the covers. He grabbed the throw blanket at the end of my bed and tucked it under his arm. “I’m taking you flying.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Iwas surrounded by black night sky, stars, and Diego. The air was crisp, becoming downright frigid the higher we went. I w
asn’t cold, though. Diego’s magic wrapped around me like an inferno. And I didn’t want it to ever stop.

  He flew higher and higher. I had started out in my titanium form, but when I realized it would weigh Diego down, I turned back to regular skin. Besides, I wanted to feel the cold air on my face and Diego’s heat pressed against me.

  Below us, the city lights twinkled like tiny fireflies. Above me, the sky opened up in an endless expanse of stars and wispy clouds.

  The wind stopped rushing past my ears, and I realized we were hovering in mid-air.

  “Are you afraid?” Diego’s low voice rumbled against my skin as he pressed his lips to my neck.

  “No.” I laughed.

  “Do you trust me?”

  That was a harder question to answer. “I trust you not to drop me,” I said finally.

  Diego chuckled.

  I squeaked when he spun me around. I had a moment of weightlessness before his arms locked across my chest. Now, I was facing outward instead of looking over Diego’s shoulder. It felt like I was the one who was flying. There was nothing in front of me except sky.

  “So,” I managed, a little breathless from the rush of flying and the male heat at my back. “This is how you get all the girls.”

  “I don’t take people flying,” Diego replied.

  “What am I, a duck?”

  “Trouble, cariño.” He let go with one hand to tuck my hair into my collar. “A whole lotta trouble.”

  I tipped my head to the side, giving him more access to kiss my neck.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready for what?”

  I turned in time to see Diego’s devilish grin, and then we were plummeting back down.

  I shrieked, which turned into a whoop that was stolen by the wind. We were flying so fast tears streamed from my eyes and my stomach was left somewhere above. It was awesome.

  The city lights below came into focus, and then we were slowing. Disappointment pulsed through me at the thought that Diego was taking me home. Instead, he settled me on top of the John Hancock Tower…the same rooftop he’d brought me to on Halloween night.

  “You’re not planning to strand me here again, are you?” I asked as our feet hit the top of the building.

  Diego chuckled. “No. I thought this would be a good place to watch the sunrise.”

  We sat at the edge of the roof, our legs dangling over. Diego draped the blanket he’d brought from my room over both of our shoulders. We sat with our sides touching as the sky began to turn from black to a hazy blue-gray color.

  Diego pulled a pack of cinnamon gum out of his pocket.

  “What’s with the cinnamon?” I asked.

  “I like it hot,” he replied, holding my gaze as he put a piece of gum in his mouth in an exaggeratedly sensual move.

  I laughed, shaking my head.

  “What do you call your flying magic?” I asked.

  “Levitator,” he replied. “I’m a Level 15 Levitator and a Level 27 Chameleon.”

  Chameleons were incredibly rare, even at the low levels. Most of them worked in surveillance for the Alliance. They could blend into their surroundings, but it took a lot of time to get their camouflage right, and it was never as seamless as Diego’s. Regular-Mag Chameleons needed hours to shift their appearances and could never change from blending into a painted wall to night sky in a second like Diego.

  I’d met a Level 7 Levitator once. He’d been a performer for Brent’s fifteenth birthday, and from what I could remember, the man couldn’t go higher than a few feet off the ground.

  “If you can fly, then why do you own a motorcycle?” I asked.

  “For when I’m taking MRP.” He gave me a little shrug, like it was no big deal. “And I’ll need it once I don’t have my magic anymore.”

  But you can fly! I wanted to shout. He had to be out of his mind to want to lose that kind of magic.

  “Play your cards right, and I’ll take you for a ride on my bike some time,” Diego said with a wink.

  If Diego were a normal man making the same offer, I would have jumped at the chance. But riding a motorcycle just didn’t have the same appeal when the alternative was dangling hundreds of feet in the air, surrounded by the stars and Diego’s magic.

  “Flying is my weaker magic,” Diego said, pulling me back into the present. “I can fly far and fast, but carrying anything besides my own weight exhausts me.”

  There was nothing weak about Level 15 magic, but compared to his Chameleon power, I guessed it must feel that way.

  Diego wrapped an arm around me, drawing me tighter against his side. I glanced down at his forearm, corded with muscle and covered in black ink tattoos.

  “Why do you have the Super Mags’ numbers all over your arms?” I asked.

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized the question might be too personal. Then again, Diego had seen me almost break down in front of my family and knew what kind of panties I wore. We were already personal.

  “There’s a backstory to these.” Diego held out his forearm to display his tattoos.

  I didn’t say anything, hoping he’d share the story with me.

  “My Amá was one of the few who knew DAMND wasn’t real before I was born,” Diego said. “So she knew I wouldn’t be diseased in the way everyone had been led to believe.”

  I stayed silent, even though I had no fewer than a thousand questions. I could tell this was a painful topic.

  “My parents started working on the MRP because they knew I couldn’t have a normal life being what I was.” Diego looked down at his tattoos. “I got these so I’d never forget how much danger my kind poses to the world.” He held my gaze. “They’re a reminder that, until our magic is gone, others will be at risk.”

  I swallowed down my arguments, even though all I wanted to do was tell Diego that he was wrong. Magic wasn’t evil. He wasn’t evil.

  Instead of what I really wanted to say, I stuck to the less emotional parts.

  “I thought Edwardian Remwald’s Alchemist brother created the MRP before the Slaughters,” I said, remembering what Subject 6 had told us months ago.

  The Remwalds had been planning to use the MRP against any Mags who didn’t help them in their war against Nats. Edwardian Remwald had mentioned once that his Alchemist brother was killed during the Slaughters. Edwardian had dedicated himself to his family’s cause even when he was the only one left.

  “My parents were the one who first developed that formula,” Diego said, his voice taut. “They made it so I, and others like me, wouldn’t have to spend our lives in hiding. When they found out what Remwald was planning to do with the MRP, they tried to stop him.” His jaw tightened. “They might have succeeded, too, if it wasn’t for—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Before I could begin to work out how I felt about everything Diego was saying, he continued.

  “That’s why I was in Pruwist’s house the night you broke in to steal the coordinates. My parents’ notes were confiscated before MagLab was burned down, and I thought I might be able to access them through Pruwist’s computer.”

  “Did you find their notes?” I asked.

  Diego nodded. “Their last discovery was how to make the potion even stronger without needing as much Agent S.” He gave me a sidelong glance.

  “Great,” I replied bitterly. “And then Valencia and her Mag-hating followers can get their hands on the MRP and shoot up whoever they please.”

  “You know how complicated the formula is,” Diego said. “My mother was a Level 8 Alchemist and my father a biochemical engineer, and it took them their entire careers to figure it out.

  “I destroyed all the digital copies of their research, so I’m the only one outside of the mine who actually knows how to make it.” He gave me a pointed look. “Unless you and your friends go around giving out the formula, but even then, it would be almost impossible to get right without my parents’ notes.”

  My friends and I hadn’t mentioned the
formula to anyone else. And I knew Diego was telling the truth about its complexity; Smith had gone on and on about how temperamental the ingredients were, even excluding Agent S.

  “So, assuming you get your hands on more Agent S,” I said, silently promising myself I’d never let that happen, “you’re just going to spend the rest of your life making the MRP and injecting Super Mags?”

  Diego quirked his lip. “I never said my life would be glamorous.”

  I slid out from under his arm, my pulse thudding in my rising anger.

  I thought about Cora, Kaira’s cousin who had lost her magic because a power-tripping Enforcer had shot her up with the Magical Reduction Potion. I thought about the Super Mags back at the house—of Charlotte and Emory.

  I thought about Diego’s strange, beautiful magic…and his desperation to be rid of it.

  Diego’s next words made my blood go cold.

  “We’ve gotten to the point in the conversation where we discuss the favor you owe me, cariño.”

  I had almost forgotten the promise I’d made back in the mine, when I was locked in the isolation chamber.

  “What is it?” I asked, my muscles tensing in anticipation of whatever he was going to say.

  “The Alchemists in the mine keep the liquid Agent S locked in a titanium vault,” Diego explained. “None of the keys in the foreman’s office would fit, and I can’t use Agent S when it’s in the raw rock form. So, I need you to help me break into the vault.”

  For several seconds, my mind went completely blank.

  “You want me to…what?!”

  “Your stipulations were no sex and no killing,” Diego said, giving me an infuriating smile. “And I’m not asking for either.” His smile turned into something fierce. “You did swear to say yes to whatever I asked.”

  “This is going too far,” I told him, trying to catch my breath. “My friends and I are trying to destroy everything connected to the MRP…not help you make more.”

  “You never would have gotten out of that cage without my help,” Diego said, his tone going frigid. “Don’t tell me that Bri Hammond’s promises are empty.”

  I made a point of never promising anything I didn’t intend to follow through on. But Diego had taken advantage of me when I was in a vulnerable situation. What he was asking wasn’t just unfair…it was impossible.

 

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