Allie Beckstrom 09 - Magic for a Price (2 page)

“It hasn’t always been this way,” I said. “Maeve and Victor told me that things aren’t usually this death-y in the Authority. It’s just since my dad died…”

“And possessed you.” Again with the even gaze.

Oh, there was no way I was getting out of this now. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. I mean I couldn’t just call and say, ‘Hey, Nola, guess who’s in my head? My dead dad! Yes, he’s still a self-centered jerk, yes, he still wants to rule my life, but you know, no biggie.’ It just sounds too crazy. You would have thought I’d really lost it. I tried to get rid of him. More than once. Thought that when I did I could tell you he was gone, and it wouldn’t matter if you believed me or not. But now…he’s been helpful lately. I guess.”

“Do you trust him?”

I thought about it for a second or two. Dad had been quiet in my head since the battle. I could still feel his awareness there in my thoughts, his wintergreen presence, but he wasn’t getting in my way, wasn’t offering suggestions. Other than that sudden flash of his memories, it was like he was observing and meditating, resting up for a big effort of some kind.

And he might be very wise to be doing so.

“I don’t know. It’s weird. I want to trust him.”

Nola’s eyebrows went up and she smiled a little. “Really? You, the rebel child?”

“I told you it was weird. But since he’s been dead, we’ve had to work together. He’s been…respectful. Mostly. But he’s still done things that…that I don’t like.”

“So you don’t trust him?”

I sighed. “I guess I should at this point. But, no. Not with every fiber of my being.”

“But you trust Zayvion.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t have to be. She knew.

“Down to the last drop.”

“So when you use magic together, as Soul Complements, you can make magic bend the rules,” she said. “Can Shame and Terric do that too?”

“If what they did out on the battlefield against Jingo Jingo is any indication, yes.”

“Is it more dangerous to use magic that way?”

“I guess so. But magic is always dangerous. Zay and I try not to cast together like that because when we do, we sort of get lost in each other’s minds.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“It’s not. At all. But it’s hard to let go of him and want to stay breathing in my own body when I’m wrapped up in the man I love.”

“Oh,” she exhaled.

She was such a romantic.

I took a drink of water to cover my smile. “We’re okay. Zay and I are pretty good at not using magic together in ways that make us do something…disastrous.”

“How disastrous?”

“Well, Leander and Isabelle were Soul Complements. They were the first pair ever discovered. A few hundred years ago they used magic to torture, kill, and destroy anyone who disagreed with them throughout the world. The only way the Authority stopped them was by breaking magic into two forms—light and dark—which drastically changed how it can be used.”

“Wait,” she said. “A few hundred years ago?”

I nodded.

“After breaking magic, the Authority killed Leander, and broke Isabelle’s mind. But apparently that wasn’t enough. They found their way back from death and possessed people, starting with Sedra, who used to be the head of Portland’s Authority, and was Cody Miller’s mom. And now they want all the magic, which we won’t let them have, and all the world, which we won’t let them take. They’ll be headed this way to go all apocalypse on
anyone standing in their way.” I gave her a smile to try to take the sting out of all of that.

“Is that what this is, then? An apocalypse?”

“Naw. Not with all these happy cookies to eat.” But my smile faded, and I ran my fingers through my hair again, nervous. I may talk a big game, but the truth was, I was scared out of my pants to have to face Leander and Isabelle again.

“Maybe,” I said quietly. “If we can stop them and send them both back to death, maybe it won’t be the end of the world. We’ll still need to find a way to counteract the poison in magic, and find a cure for people who have been infected by it, and make sure the Veiled aren’t going around trying to hurt people. I guess someone will have to rebuild the Authority since we’ve lost a lot of people in the last few months.”

I swallowed hard against the flashing images—my memories—of Bartholomew with the bullet hole I had put in his head, gasping his last breath; of Jingo Jingo sucking the life out of dozens of people; of Shame, more dead than alive, crushing Jingo Jingo’s heart until it stopped beating.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, even though my voice quavered a little.

“You mean you’ll figure it out,” she said firmly.

“I doubt it.” I reached over and dug up a finger full of cookie dough. “I bet I’ll be ground troops in this fight. There are much wiser minds than mine who can deal with all of this.”

She shrugged and went back to scooping drops of dough onto the sheet. “I think you’re underestimating yourself. And you still didn’t tell me why.”

“Why I’ve been keeping secrets? Sure you don’t want to discuss it some day over a case or two of wine?”

“I don’t think we’re going to get a ‘some day’ anytime soon, do you?”

“No.”

“Then right now, over a mountain of apocalyptic cookies, will have to do. Spill.”

“Fine.” I popped the raw dough into my mouth. “Mmm. So good. You really must be worried.”

“I’m not worried,” she said archly. “I’m trying to feed an army. And putting this industrial dream kitchen through its paces. I don’t think it’s been used in years.”

Kevin Cooper’s kitchen was just as grand as the rest of his house. When he’d first suggested we all gather at his place—and stay if we wanted—I hadn’t thought it was a good idea.

But then, Zayvion hadn’t bothered to tell me Kevin was rich. Like old-school, going-back-generations rich.

Kevin certainly had the house—well, manor—to show for it. Kevin said he didn’t live here, preferring a modest house in a quiet neighborhood. I didn’t blame him. This place was big enough to be a hotel.

“Have you looked at these ovens?” Nola continued with a wave of the spatula. “Gorgeous. And you are getting off topic.”

“All right. When I first joined the Authority to learn how to use magic, they told me I’d be Closed—have my memories taken away—if I ever told anyone about them.”

“Who told you that?”

“Everyone. Victor, Maeve, Jingo Jingo, Zay, Shame. All my teachers. Don’t get angry. It’s the rule—the same rule for everyone who is a part of the Authority. I was worried that if I told you anything, they’d Close you too. I couldn’t do that to you, couldn’t know that I was responsible for your memories being taken away.”

“They wouldn’t really take your memories away.”

“They very much really would. Without a moment’s hesitation.”

“Even Zayvion?”

I held my breath on that. “Not now,” I finally said. “Definitely not now. But a while ago? Probably.”

She raised one eyebrow.

“It’s his job, Nola, or it was. He’s practically grown up in the Authority. He’s very…loyal.”

“And you didn’t think I should know any of this? That I shouldn’t be there to help you out if you were Closed? You should have told me. I’d rather be at your side—even if things are bad—than not in your life at all.”

“You were always in my life. I didn’t push you away.”

“No, you just didn’t tell me the truth. I hate being lied to.” She scowled and hooked her thumb in the bowl, scooping out dough.

“Okay,” I said, “it wasn’t the most honest thing I could have done. But I was trying to keep you safe. And”—I held up my hand to cut off whatever she’d been about to say—“I wanted you safe for purely selfish reasons. You’re my best friend. If it came down to it, if I had to do this last year over again, I might try to do it differently.”

Memories of Grounding a wild magic storm, walking through death, fighting and failing to stop Leander and Isabelle as they dragged me out of my body and tried to kill me and all of my friends stuttered through my mind.

I winced.

“I’d definitely do things differently. For one thing, I’d try to tell you about all of this—the people, the secret magic, the risks—sooner. But, Nola, if it all goes to hell again, I’m still going to try to protect you from the worst of it.”

She shook her head. “Have you ever thought about just leaving?”

Huh. Strangely, I hadn’t. “No. This is my home. Well, not right here at Kevin’s, but this city. No one can make me leave it. Even my dad couldn’t make me leave it, and he drove me nuts.”

She smiled and finally popped the dough in her mouth. “Now that so many people know about the Authority, what’s going to happen to us and our memories?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

The kitchen door opened and in walked Kevin Cooper. Sandy-haired, sad-eyed, he was one of Zay’s long-standing friends. He was also a hell of a magic user. He’d somehow gotten himself assigned, by my dad of all people, as a bodyguard to Violet, my dad’s wife. Somewhere along the way, Kevin had fallen in love with Violet, and he was still her stalwart guard.

“Allie,” he said, “we have a problem.”

“We have a lot of problems.”

“Seattle’s been scrambled.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

I’d never seen Kevin shaken. I’d never even seen the man sweat, and I’d seen him in the middle of a magical battle against overwhelming odds. He was sweating now.

“The Authority members in Seattle have been ordered by the Overseer to secure Portland.”

“Secure?” I asked. “How?”

“They are going to lock us down so that no one can enter or exit, and Close or kill any member of Portland’s Authority who stands in their way.”

“My God,” Nola said.

“It’s okay.” I gave her an encouraging nod, which was a big fat lie. “We can handle this. Right, Kevin?”

He didn’t say a word. Just stood there looking grim.

Note to self: Kevin sucks at the big fat lie.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“Right now? Don’t burn the cookies.”

“Allie,” she admonished.

“As soon as I figure out how bad it is, I will tell you what we need to do. Give me a second or two to talk to a few people, okay?”

She nodded. “Paul said he’d be here in a half hour or so.”

“Good.” Paul—Detective Paul Stotts—was her boyfriend, and was now just as deep in Authority business and end-of-the-world magic users targeting Portland as any of us who had been a part of the Authority for years. It would be good to have him on our side. I had the feeling we were going to need the cooperation of the police to get through this.

I jogged out of the kitchen, Kevin right on my heels.

Kevin’s place had the feel of a grander sort of living, of balls and ceremonies and social events from a century prior. Not a speck of dust though. Kevin may not be living here, but he still had someone come in once a week to clean and air out the place.

“How bad is it?” I asked.

“They’re coming to kill us.”

“Right. Heard that. Can they do it?”

“With magic poisoned and most of us still not recovered from fighting Jingo Jingo? Yes.”

Not the answer I was looking for. My heart was beating too fast. All I wanted to do was run, hide. Get the hell out of town. But too many people were relying on me being here, and hadn’t I just told Nola I’d never run?

“How much time do we have before they get here?” We crossed the long, carpeted hall accented with woods and paintings that were probably priceless. I took a left, heading to one of the smaller meeting rooms.

“Three hours at the least. Four at the most.”

“Then it’s time to make some plans.” I pulled open the double door to the room and strode into the sparsely furnished space.

“About time you got here,” Shame said as soon as I crossed the threshold. “I was getting tired waiting for the world to end.”

T
here were three people in the room: Zayvion, Maeve, and Shame. Shame sat in a bright red cushioned arm chair with gold tassels across the bottom of it. It did not fit in with the rest of the room’s decor of silk white wallpaper, dark wooden central table, matching chairs, and gigantic lead crystal chandelier.

Okay, maybe it fit with the chandelier, but it was obvious someone had dragged it in here from one of the other more elegant sitting rooms.

He wore a heavy, black cabled sweater with a black turtleneck under it, black fingerless gloves, black beanie, and blue jeans.

Out of all that blackness, his eyes shone through, startlingly green against his sallow skin. I could still see magic with my bare eyes, which was, as far as any of us could tell, a side effect of magic being poisoned and me hitting my head on concrete a few days ago.

Sometimes, when I had a spare minute to give in to my fears and suspicion, I wondered if it was being possessed by my dad for nearly a year that had changed me.

Looking at Shame made me wonder how much I was seeing him, and how much I was seeing what magic had done to him.

He wasn’t just wearing dark clothing; he was surrounded by shadows.

Shame looked like death.

He’d been on the thin side lately, but the fight with Jingo Jingo had made it only worse. Every angle of his face stood at hard relief to the shadows surrounding him. Both physical and magical blackness covered him and roiled like inky smoke, licking outward with questing tendrils, as if looking for something to taste.

Shame sat in the center of that sliding darkness, burning like a hard white flame.

I didn’t want to admit it, but the shadows reminded me of the souls and Veiled I used to see hovering around Jingo Jingo. Except the darkness and magic around Shame wasn’t made of dead people, it just seemed to be made of magic and death.

He gave me a slight smile. Suddenly it was the very much alive Shame staring back at me.

He might have been changed by magic, but he was still Shame.

“Done getting your beauty sleep?” he asked.

“I wasn’t sleeping. I was talking to Nola,” I said. “And if I remember right, we were waiting for you to wake up.”

“Behold my awakeness,” he said, spreading his long, thin fingers. “Let’s party.”