Like sheep to the slaughter.
4
In a small neighborhood on the city’s east side, Kieran watched his brother take down his third demon of the evening. Lucas killed the creature every bit as effectively as the first one, and he’d continue the slaughter all night if need be. Luc was a killing machine, even when he stuck to conventional weapons and didn’t touch his innate magical powers. The whistle as Luc’s knife went end over end a hairsbreadth past his ear made Kieran spin just in time to watch the weapon bury itself into the head of a demon. The sharp-toothed bastard was close enough to devour him, but fell with a thud to the pavement at his feet, Luc’s knife sticking out of its head.
“Jesus Christ, Kieran, pay attention. What’s up with you tonight?” Luc sounded pissed. No, not pissed exactly, just worried. Besides, he was right. Kieran had to get his head in the game before they became the hunted.
He and his brother were members of an elite club. Membership was by invitation only, and the job offered low pay and high risks. And neither of them would have it any other way. In a world that didn’t believe in magic, their options had been few and far between until Odin showed up and recruited them for Rhiannon’s London cadre.
Odin enlisted them because he and his Chicago contingent had been battling Hel’s demons—called Grim—the longest. Since before there were proper cities on this planet. The Norse god said it was his calling to protect the humans, and, to that end, established an infrastructure of protective teams in every major city.
Kieran and Luc had been hunting the little bastards ever since. But after centuries of picking off a few a week, now it was dozens each night. Hel was definitely upping her game.
So here they all were: Hel’s little minions treating the Big Apple like an all-you-can-eat buffet, and Kieran and Lucas—as Earth’s guardians—tasked with protecting the weaker race. Not that the mortals knew any of this, since it was all a big secret.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it,” Kieran muttered, hurling twin stars at an oncoming Grim, which caught it in both eyes. As the little bastard went down, Kieran leapt and stabbed downward, and the thing stopped its scrambling motion on the concrete, curling inward as it withered away to a greying husk. Void of their soul, or whatever in the fuck powered them, the creatures melted away, pulling a Wicked Witch of the West move, which made cleanup a breeze. Another four down and Kieran and Luc leaned against one another, chests heaving, black blood dripping from the ends of their knives in a silent alleyway.
“Busy night,” Kieran observed, retrieving his stars. “There had to be at least ten of the fuckers.”
“Eleven,” Luc said, mentally tallying as he scanned the close space between the two buildings. “No, make that twelve.” He sighed. “I swear, if this keeps up, we’re going to run out of people, ammo or weaponry. Not to mention the fact the humans are bound to notice eventually, right?”
“They haven’t so far.” Which to Kieran was a mystery. “But yeah, one would assume people dropping off the map would be a big clue something’s rotten in Denmark. Anyway…” Kieran whirled, the hairs lifting at the back of his neck. But he found nothing except emptiness. And the vague, nagging sense of someone watching him from afar.
Dawn was staining the sky orange, as Luc said, “We’d best get back to the Warehouse and report to Rhiannon, give her tonight’s numbers. She’ll kick our asses if we aren’t back by daylight.” Lucas’s gaze followed his brother’s, focusing on the far end of the alley, where the dumpsters were crammed together. “What?”
“Nothing,” Kieran muttered, rubbing his nape. “I just had this weird feeling…” He paused and looked again. Nothing there. He was being crazy. Completely crazy. For a moment he felt the strangest sensation…the call of the ocean, of the waves singing to him, as if the sea was poised to carry him away. It had been a long time since he’d sensed that strong of a magical pull, and damn it, his stride faltered as he followed Luc out into the street.
“What’s going on with Rhiannon?” he asked his brother, knowing Lucas would pry and pry if he found out about this sudden paranoia. “Did she seem…on edge to you? Earlier?”
“Our fearless leader was her normal, warmongering self, if you ask me.” Lucas snorted. “All these extra Grim flooding the city are probably making her edgy. Besides, who cares what’s up with her?” Lucas grabbed Kieran’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. “I care about you. What is going on?” So, the weirdness hadn’t gone unnoticed, after all. “You’ve been off all night long. Distracted. What’s up?”
Kieran ran a hand down the back of his neck, willing the little hairs to lie down and stay there. No such luck. Something was setting off his instincts, and he had no idea why. Maybe he needed a day off. “Nothing. I just feel… Look, do you sense some errant magic or someone else close by?”
Luc’s dark brown eyes glowed gold as they scanned the street, the glow of streetlights beginning to flicker off as dawn bloomed on the horizon.
“Because my gut is telling me we’re being watched,” Kieran said.
Lucas instantly went rigid, knife in hand. Somehow, that made Kieran feel better. At least they could be paranoid together. “Where?” Luc muttered, his gaze drifting back to the cluster of dumpsters.
“Yes, it came from there, a moment ago. But now…” Kieran swung his head to the right, to the cluster of trees at the edge of the small park, where the sounds of a fountain played. “Over there,” he murmured. “Whatever’s tracking us is over there, by the fountain.”
Centuries of hunting together had them moving like twin shadows, step for step identical until they’d reached the edge of the small municipal park, the sound of water loud in Kieran’s ears, the splashing of it drowning out all other sounds. Drawing his weapon, he let the mist-laden air play against his face, testing it for clues. The wind always did that, sang to his gift, a song that echoed in his blood. As one of the Vanir, he was a god capable of commanding the wind to his will. Not that he ever did. Rhiannon tended to discourage blatant displays of magic.
This being Earth, and all.
The air was cool, dripping with morning dew. And something else. A hint of water, but not anything he’d ever sensed before. A touch of the ocean again, a brush of salt against his tongue. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s here, whatever it is.” He went left as Lucas went right, the dimness of the shadows causing Kieran to blink, then refocus as he slowly prowled around the fountain’s massive concrete bowl. And arrived right back where he’d begun. He looked around, then softly called, “Lucas?”
Kieran scanned the trees, the shadows, and made another circle of the fountain, then drew in a sweeping breath of morning air as the sun broke over the park. Empty. The park was completely empty, and he was the only living thing, besides a few worthless pigeons, within three hundred feet.
“Goddamn it, Lucas, where the fuck are you?”
Panic bloomed in him, a deep fear he couldn’t explain nor control. They were twins. And for the first time since he’d been in the womb with his brother, Kieran didn’t feel Lucas anywhere. Not even in his mind.
It was as if his brother had disappeared from the face of the Earth.
5
Four blocks away, Victoria wound the leash of magic tighter around her captive’s throat.
“The harder you struggle, the more this’ll sting.” As if her prey didn’t know, but it never hurt to point out the obvious. Besides, at this rate he was going to die before she dragged him through the closest gate. And if the Mages couldn’t kill him in whichever horrendous way they’d planned? They’d look to her for retribution.
“Stop fighting,” Victoria snarled, yanking on the end of the leash. Leash being a relative term for something invisible, intangible and completely undetectable. “Or I’m going to have to…”
“Going to have to what?” The man swung his red, sweating face up to hers, and she froze. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.
“Where is your scar?” she blurted, disbelief loosenin
g her grip on the magic tether, letting her guard down just enough to allow her captive to lunge at her. As her back hit the ground, the impact driving all of her breath out of her lungs, she had the presence of mind to bring her knee up between his legs, his body collapsing on top of hers in a heap of sweating, quivering muscle.
A wave of her hand put him out cold; another had them glamoured from passersby as Victoria struggled to figure out how she’d screwed up so badly. She’d located her prey halfway across the city, then easily tracked him to this location. She’d watched him for an hour as he fought the demons and then lured him to the park, the sound of the water masking his abduction. Leaving her free to drag him to the nearest gate back to London.
And yet…she didn’t have Kieran Grey. She had…someone else.
A barbarian, from the looks of it. Victoria inspected her captive more thoroughly, from the dark scruff covering his jaw to his half-closed, unfocused eyes, courtesy of the spell that knocked him out cold. His long hair half obscured his face, but there was no doubt that she’d scooped someone else up instead of her target. Still…he was handsome, if you liked that sort of thing—big and brutish. She pulled in a delicate breath. Then another. Musk. Sandalwood. Spice. It was the same. The exact same scent as her intended prey. Rage began to boil in her.
Fuckers, they’d left that out of the file.
The two men were twins. It was the only possible explanation.
Myriad possibilities churned. Did the Mages want her to fail? Did they mean to kill her, once she failed them? Or were they the ones who’d been wrong about their target? Victoria shook her head, chuckling at the ridiculousness of that idea. The Mages had run things in the magical world for thousands of years, from the time of the druids and Stonehenge. They’d never been wrong before.
And they weren’t now.
She’d gotten mixed up, was all. Plus, she had a whole day left. Just to be sure, Victoria checked her watch.
Actually, she had thirty-three hours left. Ample time to snatch up the correct brother and spirit him back to London. Gently, she unwound the magical leash from her victim’s neck and ran a finger across the angry red welts, willing them to disappear. Brushed her fingers across his forehead, wiping all memory of her from his mind. Blew the glamour away from his crumpled form, stepped into a shadow and waited.
Searching street after empty street, Kieran was going mad. And then, finally, he sensed his brother, a few blocks south. Racing down the sidewalks, he kept his head down, all too aware of the fact he was doused in black blood and loaded with knives and guns. The sight of Lucas crumpled on the ground didn’t exactly boost his confidence, but when he drew closer, Kieran noticed Luc’s chest move. Thank the gods.
He’d barely kneeled down to check Luc’s pulse when the other team’s vehicle pulled up, the beefy front tires of their Jeep hitting the curb inches from Luc’s head. “Watch where in the fuck you’re going,” Kieran snarled as Cole unfurled his massive frame from the driver’s side. “You’re a menace.”
Cole hiked up his pants, grinning as Alexis lunged from the passenger side. The last one out of the truck was Hunter Wallace, her golden eyes taking everything in.
“Yeah, so they tell me. We got your call. What the hell’s wrong with your brother?” Cole asked, nodding to Lucas. Alexis elbowed him out of the way, frantically moving her hands over Luc’s face, then his neck as she checked for a pulse, before roving them across the rest of his body, checking for injuries.
She rocked back on her heels and shot Kieran a relieved look. “He’s okay, as near as I can tell. His pulse is strong and I can’t find any apparent injuries. Why is he out?” One hand remained on his chest, a protective, possessive gesture.
“I just got here myself. We took down a dozen Grim, and were tracking something else when we got separated,” Kieran explained, although none of it sounded right. “And for a minute…I couldn’t sense him at all. It was as if he disappeared. But when I sensed him again—found him—he was like this.”
“It’s not like you to get separated,” Hunter observed, her keen eyes missing nothing. “But tonight’s been crazy. Too many demons to count.” She crouched beside Luc. “He does appear unharmed,” she said, with an encouraging nod to Alexis.
“What else were you tracking?” Cole’s bored tone had turned curious. Cole Ransom was a relative newcomer to their New York legion of soldiers. He was a huge brute of a man—extraordinarily gifted in battle, although Kieran was never able to detect the source of his magic. But Rhiannon vouched for him, which was good enough for Kieran. “We’ve seen nothing but Grim for years, especially not downtown. Did you catch sight of it?” Cole asked.
Kieran hadn’t, but he’d bet Lucas had. “Not sure. I sensed we were being watched; we tracked it to the municipal park a few blocks north of here, but when we hemmed it in… I don’t know. Lucas was gone.”
“He pursued it?” Hunter asked, her gaze roving over the surroundings, the vehicles parked along the street. “Did you sense anything out of the ordinary before he disappeared?”
“Nope.”
As Kieran answered, he knew it was a lie, but what else was he supposed to say? His brother had vanished off the face of the earth for a full twenty minutes? And then popped back onto Kieran’s radar like a submarine coming up for air? Yeah, Hunter would be all over that one. She didn’t miss a trick, which made her valuable in the field, and impossible to hide anything from.
“Well, chances are, he found whatever it was. Let’s get him home.” Cole heaved Lucas up off the ground, Kieran putting his shoulder under his brother for support, since he was still a limp mess. Alexis swiped at the tears running down her face as they loaded him carefully into the Jeep. As soon as Lucas was situated, Alexis hopped in the back seat beside him, her expression panicked.
The ride back to headquarters was somber, Lucas’s steady breathing the only thing keeping Kieran from screaming in frustration. His brother was completely knocked out. So unconscious that not even a ripple of thought penetrated his sleep. And the closer they got to home, the more worried Kieran became. He yanked out his radio and called up the doc. “Bern?”
A blast of static was followed by the doctor’s cool, calm tenor. “Is that you, Kieran? Thought you’d be back by now and I’d be stitching you up.” A crackle of static. Or laughter; it was hard to tell. “Or, more likely, your brother.” Now the wry humor in Berneval’s voice came through loud and clear.
“It’s Lucas. We’re going to need you to meet us in the loading dock. Bring the mobile CT scan down with you. Use the freight elevator.”
“Got it.” No trace of laughter left in Bern’s voice now, only cold competence. “Is he alive?”
“At the moment,” Kieran responded, his eyes fixed on the gentle rise and fall of his brother’s chest. He frowned, then reached out and touched Luc’s neck, following the faintest trace of a mark, a pink ring that went—Kieran lifted his brother’s hair—all the way around.
Berneval was as good as his word, the doctor meeting them in the dock with the machine, a gurney, a nurse and a trayful of equipment that made Kieran’s insides shrivel up. Cole helped him pull Lucas out of the Jeep, load him onto the gurney and shove his head into the CT machine, which was already humming and clicking.
Bern adjusted the machine, then somberly met Kieran’s gaze. “He’s out, but I’m not seeing any signs of brain bleed, no trauma, no sign of concussion. Which is a good thing. All his brain functions seem…normal. How was he injured? What can you tell me?” Berneval’s dark gaze swung around, from Kieran to Alexis. Hunter’s face was impassive, and Cole just shrugged. “Not one of you knows? What happened to him, then?” the doctor demanded as the machine whirred, then stopped suddenly.
“That’s weird.” Berneval tapped the side of the machine, and it started back up. “Huh. Must have been a glitch or something. There is a lot of concrete down here. I’d like to get him upstairs for further eval.”
“I want to check out the area again
,” Hunter told them, checking her knives, then pulling back her tangle of black hair. “See what I can find.”
“I appreciate it,” Kieran told her, knowing that if anyone could figure out what happened, it’d be her. “Start at the fountain—that’s where we got separated.” The huntress gave him a shallow nod and disappeared.
Kieran’s neck prickled as Bern adjusted the machines, his expression bleak. “A loss of consciousness without injury is a real problem. And without knowing what happened to him…” The machine stopped again. “I can run all the tests in the world, but I can’t tell you what’s wrong.”
Berneval and the nurse wheeled Lucas into the elevator, Kieran following close behind, his back plastered against the wall as they all crammed into the small space for the ride upstairs. Doc was the best, Kieran reassured himself. He’d practically stitched Rhiannon back together after she’d been ripped apart by demons. He’d reattached Cadros’s leg after it had been torn off in an accident, and now? The guy was as good as new. Certainly, Lucas’s little brain issue would be an easy fix.
But as Kieran followed the gurney into the infirmary, seeing his brother’s pale, slack face above the white sheet, he wasn’t so sure he was ready to place all of his trust in modern medicine. These were the times a little magic came in handy.
6
Victoria crept down the hallway after the twin.
The right twin.
The one she was actually supposed to capture.
For one panicked moment, the doctor and his CT machine were on the verge of waking the unconscious barbarian up, but she’d cast a bit of magic and shut him down again. No sense in having him complicate the situation. Because things could definitely go sideways.
The twins were armed to the hilt. So were the huge guy and the brunette.
But Victoria had her own weapons. It was just…her defenses were invisible. Besides her own innate powers, the Mages had armed her with magic. Leashes for capture, spells of submission, glamour for invisibility. And the capability to use any portal, anywhere, at any time. Which pretty much made the world her oyster.
Seacursed: The Mage Circle Trilogy: 1 Page 2