- Home
- McKenzie Hunter
Obsidian Magic (Legacy Series Book 2) Page 8
Obsidian Magic (Legacy Series Book 2) Read online
Page 8
I erected an apotrepein, a wall that would absorb some of the magic, around Savannah and me. They required more magic but were more effective than a ward. I watched the variations of colors of magic that would go unnoticed by most as they coated the air in the room. The same magic from the Square.
Before we could react, a woman grabbed the woman standing next to her, slammed her into the wall, and started to strike her viciously. The vampire who had been feeding from the man earlier and not too long ago kissing him was holding his limp body close to her, her fangs latched on to his neck. Then the shifter with Avery changed into a wolf. He sprang toward the crowd that had erupted into violence. Gareth grabbed him, yanking him back by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back. The wolf soared back several feet, landing on his back. It wasn’t Gareth—not SG Gareth. He looked as feral as everyone else. This wasn’t the terrible triplets’ magic—or not just their magic. Fuck. Conner.
Savannah started to move, but I grabbed her wrist. “You have to stay next to me.”
“We have to stop this,” she said. We moved behind the bar, the apotrepein also protecting the bartender, who was crouching down behind the counter and us.
“What the hell’s going on?” Savannah asked.
“Chaos mages, the same from earlier, but this isn’t just them. They can’t control shifters, but Conner can. He has to be involved.” I didn’t think I’d ever wanted to hurt anyone more than I did Conner. When I looked over the counter, both Avery and Gareth had shifted. The large cats took up a greater part of the room. As they circled each other, their massive forms knocked anyone who occupied that space out of the way.
Baring their fangs, they slowly stalked each other. Just as they were about to attack, Savannah pitched a Molotov cocktail in their direction. Fire sparked in the middle of the room, and they shuffled back several feet around the small fire that formed. Another flaming bottle hit, and several people retreated to the side.
“You need to find Conner and stop this.”
“But if I leave, you won’t be protected. I can’t do both,” I said.
She looked over at the pile of towels behind the bar, a few ratty cloths in the corner, and the fully stocked bar. “I’m good.”
I glanced at the bartender, who had joined Savannah in keeping everyone at bay. “Don’t worry about him. If he tries to attack me, I’ll just clunk him over the head with this.” She grabbed another bottle at her side and showed it to me.
He was too busy tossing alcohol bombs to hear her, or had decided not to respond to the woman who had just promised to give him a concussion. I rummaged through the cabinets and drawers looking for weapons. I knew there had to be stakes somewhere for those “break glass in case of emergency” type of situations. I couldn’t blame them. I continued to search. They weren’t in a glass case but in a closed box, under the counter. I stuffed the two stakes I found into the back of my pants.
Between the small fires throughout the club, people who were beating the crap out of one another, and others trying to get out of the way of the makeshift bombs being lobbed in their direction, I navigated to the entrance. Worried about Savannah and what would happen now that she and the bartender weren’t protected by my magic, I looked back in her direction. I didn’t see the bartender until I rose to my toes to get a better look. He was laid out on the floor, with broken glass scattered around him. His eyes were closed and he had a very noticeable wound on the side of his head.
“Levy, go. I got this!” she shouted, and she slung another bottle out into the crowd.
As I neared the door, someone grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back. I hit the ground—hard. I rolled to the side and swiped their leg and jabbed my elbow into their throat. If it was a vampire, it would only hurt for a moment. I gripped the stake. I didn’t plan on killing them, but I needed to do more to disable them. When the person gurgled for breath, I came to my feet. I didn’t have to worry about them. I hoped the Suits, the guys who manned the front door and also seemed to double as Lucas’s assistants and bodyguards, weren’t out there because disabling them was going to be a little more difficult.
They were outside but too engaged in a bloody fistfight to be concerned about me. I darted around them, the wave of familiar magic wrapped around me like a dense shawl. Two distinct types of magic: mage and an odd version of mine. I closed my eyes for a brief moment to concentrate, isolate where it was coming from, and decide who I needed to stop first. The mages—I had to stop them first.
I ran around the building, through the narrow alleyway, and spotted the terrible trio immediately. I picked up my pace and hauled behind them as fast as I could, clearing the distance between them before surveying the area to make sure there wasn’t anyone near. The ambient glow of the moon illuminated the area along with a few distant streetlights. I could see my path and them well enough and all the things that cluttered the alley. The trash bins, shards of glass from a few broken bottles that had missed the containers and landed beside them. I could see most things, yet it was still dark enough that someone wouldn’t be able to identify me from a distance.
My magic curled around my arm, inching quickly toward my fingers. A powerful wave of it driven by fear and adrenaline burst forward, crashing into the triplets and sending them careening into the ground. I was on them quickly. Grabbing the thinner male by the shirt, I slammed him into the wall. Stake in hand, I pressed it into his chest, adding enough pressure so he could feel the sharp point.
His lips cocked into a half-smile, giving me and the stake a look of derision. “I’m not a vampire,” he said in a deep mocking tone.
“And somehow you think if I plunge this sharp stick into your chest it won’t hurt because of that.” I pressed harder. He grunted as his eyes flew up past me, to his siblings. I heard their movement behind me. “You touch me and this goes into his chest.” I pushed it in a little harder. He winced. “Step back,” I ordered.
I glanced over in their direction. They didn’t move. If they were working with Conner, they knew who and what I was, which gave me a lot of freedom. I didn’t have to pretend to be a mage, witch, or lesser supernatural. I released the mage with one hand, keeping the stake pressed into his heart, and blasted another powerful force of magic into the other two. They crashed into the building across from us and crumpled against it. As they attempted to stand, I quickly swiped my finger across, collapsing their legs under them. They went down with a thud. Then I heard the sound of a gun cocking.
“Let him go,” commanded the deep familiar voice. For a moment I contemplated the speed of magic and that of a bullet. I turned to find Clive and three of his companions with guns trained on me. Great, the Justice League is here. They were dressed in all black. All they were missing were matching tattoos below the edges of their fitted t-shirts that would signify that they were the Brotherhood of the Cliché. He jerked his chin in the mages’ direction. “Get out of here.” I heard rustling behind me, probably them trying to get out of there in a hurry.
“Any more destruction they cause will be on you,” I reminded him bitterly.
“They won’t. We just needed to talk to you.”
“Yeah, when I need to talk to people I usually corner them in a dark alley and threaten them with a gun. Meeting at coffeehouses are overrated,” I snipped back.
His lips pulled into a taut line, as did the mouths of the other three. The lighting made them appear harsher and more ominous. I took note of their position but I didn’t see an advantage. The first time Clive had approached me, the guy he’d had with him wasn’t trained—these men were. Their hold was steady, eyes narrowed, and they had the physiques of people who would have not only speed but power in a fight. This meeting apparently wasn’t about schmoozing me this time.
“We know what you are.”
“So? First of all you will have to prove it and then get people who consider themselves saner than you to believe it. You guys are the weird fundamentalists with the ridiculous name trying to change a world
that most people like. Go ahead, tell someone that Legacy exist and that you saw one the other day. You might as well tell them Santa Claus gave you a piggyback ride. No one will believe you; in fact, they’ll see it as another ploy to separate humans from the supernaturals,” I said through clenched teeth, speaking with far more confidence than I actually felt. I didn’t want to give those who were on the fence any reason to doubt. There was comfort in thinking that every Legacy had died in the war and the Cleanse could never be done again. Everyone needed that comfort.
The other men kept their guns trained on me, but Clive rested his at his side. “Conner sees the big picture—you need to as well.” An alliance of people who clearly hated one another, out for one agenda—separation. Conner hated anyone who wasn’t a Vertu or Legacy. Humans First hated anyone who wasn’t wholly human, and the terrible triplets just seemed to hate—well, peace and order.
As a situational chameleon, Clive had switched into his new role, abandoning the hard-assed representative of Humans First for something friendlier, more charismatic and warm. Clive would be anything he needed to be to get whatever he wanted and I didn’t trust him. His voice had lost its commanding edge and when he spoke his voice was soft and entreating. “I don’t think it’s fair that you have to live like this, Levy,” he offered.
That’s laying it on pretty thick.
“Magic can be chaotic and dangerous when unchecked,” he said pointedly.
“And sending chaos mages throughout the city is helping things?”
“No, we are exposing the fragility of this existence. It is only a matter of time before it is more than a planned execution by a chaos mage but actual chaos and unrest. Don’t you think the supernaturals will eventually grow tired of the restrictions placed on them, the laws, and the constant monitoring and manipulation to make them seem innocuous? How long do you think that this can go on?”
It was a rhetorical question, although he waited in silence for several minutes. He was assessing how I was responding to his little soliloquy. I wondered how long he’d practiced it—putting the right dark spin on it, pausing for effect, allowing his voice to drop to a low deep rasp as he told me of the draconian world that would come to be.
“We want you on our team. To make things right.”
“As flattered as I am to be asked to join your club of misguided misfits, I’m going to give it a hard pass.”
Although his partners still had their guns pointed at me, this wasn’t going to be violent. I slowly started to back away, not confident enough to turn my back on him but confident enough to position myself for an escape. The man next to Clive nestled his right finger a little tighter on the trigger but Clive ordered him to stand down. Reluctantly he dropped it and so did the others.
I had only gotten a few feet away when he said, “I know you have delusions of stopping it. You won’t.”
“I was pretty good at stopping you the last time. And I will make sure I do it this time and each time you and Conner or anyone else you align yourself with give it a try. I have more at stake than your Utopian world where people like me don’t exist. I assure you, like the last time, I will win—you’re just playing Humans First mercenary, or whatever GI Joe fantasy you have in your head. I’m playing for my life.”
The anger made its way to his eyes. His lips twisted into a snarl. His tone was hard and sharp. “I assure you, sweetheart, I’m not playing anything. You won one battle, don’t think you have a handle on this. I’m giving you a chance to walk out of this alive in a better situation than you will be when we are finished. We have four Necro-spears—” He stopped abruptly, and I realized his anger had gotten the best of him and he’d disclosed something he shouldn’t have. But he was too rehearsed and confident to make it seem that way. “We do. What do think happens to you when we do it?”
I stopped midstep and sucked in a ragged breath, my chest too tight to take in any more. If he had four, and the Magical Council had one, then there was another one out there somewhere. He only needed someone strong and as misguided and thirsty for power as he was to help him. His little speech probably wasn’t as practiced as I thought but had become polished by being given so many times that he knew how it needed to be delivered to get people to comply. Conner had had three Legacy before, and Clive might have helped him find more.
Fear was something I hated to feel. It made me impulsive and reactionary. It was the worst way to handle things. It took a few moments for me to master it, control it, and think of this rationally. But rationality was far from my reach—I wanted to kill a lot of people, starting with Conner and the rest of his band of misguided minions. I’d always considered myself better than this, but at that moment, I didn’t want to be better. I wanted violence, the very thing that had changed my life and the world and made me a lifelong fugitive who had to hide and could never have a normal life. This jerk was treating me with the same casualness that one used when deciding what shoes to wear. People were going to die. Lots of people.
“When would you like to meet?” I asked with quiet resolve.
“David, our founder, has wanted to meet you for a while. Meet us at our office, at seven tomorrow.” The arrogance of his success just made the vengeful thoughts in my head easier to accept.
By the time I’d returned to the club, I hadn’t calmed down enough to get past deciding which way was best to kill Conner and how many ass kickings I planned on giving HF before they met the same fate. My hands were shaking with anger when I walked through the club’s doors. Several Supernatural Guild cars were present, along with an ambulance from the Isles, the hospital more often used by humans who were injured as a result of a supernatural occurrence than by supernaturals. Witches and mages could heal themselves with spells and magic. It took a lot to injure vampires and shifters, and they often healed so fast that medical attention was rarely necessary. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected; after all, Savannah had tried to control the violence by fighting with fire and it looked like she’d succeeded but hadn’t burned the place down completely. Pools of blood covered the floor, shattered bottles all around. Significant parts of the floor and walls were scorched. The previously fully stocked bar had only a half a shelf of liquor.
Savannah sidled in next to me, looking at her fingers, which were bandaged. “How bad is it?” I asked. When she winced once as she pressed them to each other, I had my answer. Scanning the area, I looked for Lucas.
When I didn’t see him, I asked, “Where’s Lucas?”
She shrugged. “I kind of lost touch with him once things got really out of control.” I caught a glimpse of Gareth off in the corner, talking to Harrah. Her face flushed as she periodically looked over the destroyed club. Stress and anger competed for expression on her face. But she softened some as she examined Gareth’s arm. I could see the angry red burns from across the room. Her face and body surrendered to her smile and she relaxed a little, or relaxed as much as one could knowing she was responsible for fixing the situation and spinning it into something palatable. She waved in Savannah’s direction and then gave her a nod of thanks.
“What’s that all about?” I asked, referring to her fingers again.
“I got this trying to stop Gareth and the other lion from ripping each other apart.”
“That was his nephew. It would have devastated him if he’d hurt him.”
“I figured that much. I hope they aren’t as stubborn in human form as they are in animal. Nothing really worked. I had to get between them and hold them off.”
“You did what?” I snapped.
“It was only for a minute. Just a few moments later everything stopped. Everybody was calm and the shifters had reverted back to human form.”
“Savannah, you can’t—”
“I know, I know. Save the lecture, I realize how stupid it was. Adrenaline just took over. Maybe I’m a fire witch or mage.”
I didn’t know which I wanted to do: hug her and be glad she was alive, or strangle her for behaving so irrationally.
But she seemed so calm that it helped me to grab a little for myself. Knowing Savannah, she was probably too busy fixating on her new life as a fire witch or mage, which was so not a thing, but I had a feeling she had given herself over to the idea of being a fire-y Wonder Woman with the outfit and all. Please don’t let her start looking for lassos.
I stared at her as she looked around the room with an odd kind of pride. Yep, tomorrow we are probably going shopping for outfits and lassos.
CHAPTER 4
I waited patiently for Savannah, who was still riding high on her discovery that she might be a fire witch or mage, to go to sleep. I just didn’t have it in me to tell her that they absolutely without a doubt were not a thing. She considered finding Conner and the Necro-spears our job, but it wasn’t. I’d put her in enough danger, I wasn’t going to get her more involved than she already was. Humans First had four of the spears and I needed to find them. I doubted I would be lucky enough that they stored them in their offices, but if David was as controlling and fanatical as Clive seemed to be, they would be close. With any luck I would find Conner, too—if he hadn’t put up a ward to prevent me. Maybe his arrogance had made him careless or maybe he wanted me to find him. Ready to present me with a rousing speech about how I should join Team Demagogue.
With my sai secured to my back in their sheath, I slipped into my pit cave—my magic sanctuary. Initially I had abandoned it because both Lucas and Gareth knew about it, but I didn’t have many options of where I could do magic and not be discovered. It had to be a place where a lot of various magic had been performed to mask mine to the point it was indistinguishable. There weren’t many that fit the bill and still gave me the privacy I liked. I felt safer swathed in darkness, with the only light being that of the small flashlight I carried. And the dirt that kicked up each time I moved and the strong earthy smell of the hardened dirt walls that surrounded me were oddly comforting.