Blood Magic (Dragon Born Alexandria Book 2) (15 page)

“I hope you have amorous intentions in mind, Logan,” she growled at him.

In response, he flattened her against the ground, covering her body with his. Bullets whizzed over them and sank into the tree trunks.

“Shadowstalker is trying to kill you.”

“I’m getting sick and tired of that stupid assassin.” Alex pushed out with her magic to create an electrically-charged magic bubble around them. Several bullets slammed into it, dissolving upon impact. “You can get off now. My barrier is better than his bullets.”

Logan pushed off his hands to bounce back to his feet. He reached down, offering her his hand. A real gentleman helped you up after knocking you hard on your ass.

“Shadowstalker’s up there.” He pointed at a building just past the cemetery.

“You can see him?” She squinted, trying to make out any signs of movement on the roof.

“No, he’s gone now. But I can hear him. He’s on the run.”

“Then let’s go after him.”

“Too late.”

Logan’s gaze shifted to the group of Convictionites who were marching toward them. Shadowstalker’s traps and bullets had slowed them down, and now they had to deal with these bozos. Couldn’t the Army of Hate have at least fallen into one of those holes?

“Logan,” one of the Convictionites said as another group closed in from the other side. “It’s not too late for you to swear off your wicked ways.”

“Don’t do it. I rather like your wicked ways,” Alex told him.

“The mage heathen will be
silent
!” hissed the Convictionite.

“If you think you can shut me up, buddy, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“You won’t be so impudent when you’re chained up in our dungeon.”

Alex laughed in his face. “Did you think up that line all by yourself, or did you steal it from a comic book?”

He shot at her, but her barrier ate up the bullet.

“Try again,” she told him.

The Convictionite motioned to the others, and they all opened fire. Bullets hit the barrier, clunking like rain on the roof. Eventually, they gave up. Or maybe they’d just run out of bullets. One of these days, she was going to have to figure out how to make magic barriers that bounced bullets rather than ate them. That would teach those gun-toting brutes a lesson. There was nothing like getting a taste of your own medicine.

The Convictionites met her smile with cold hatred. “The Sultan will make you bleed, mage.”

“Ok, who is this Sultan you all keep talking about?” she demanded.

“The means to your destruction.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that wasn’t cryptic at all. Let me give you a tip they didn’t teach you in Evil Minion School: talking like that doesn’t make you sound mysterious and powerful. It just makes you sound like an idiot who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“You think you are so clever,” the Convictionite said, reaching into the front pocket of his jacket.

“No, I just think I have a big sword.” She smirked. “And can set people on fire.”

The other Convictionites looked uneasily to their group’s leader. He didn’t look the least bit uneasy. In fact, he was positively beaming when he pulled a device out of his pocket, a device she’d seen before.

“Oh, crap.”

“Exactly,” he said with a vicious sneer, then pressed a button.

Even though Alex knew it was coming, she wasn’t fast enough to dodge the punch Logan aimed at her. His fist pounded into her stomach, the pain rippling through her body like a thousand razor blades. Still, he hadn’t hit her as hard as she knew he could, which meant he was trying to fight the device. She had to break its control over him—and fast. Being trapped inside a tight bubble with him wasn’t doing her any favors, so she dropped the barrier.

She tried to put some distance between her and Logan, but his hand darted out and locked around her wrist. She zapped him with a heavy jolt of electricity. His step faltered, and she followed that up with a hard kick to his ankle. She broke his hold and dashed away. But she hadn’t made it two steps when his hands grabbed her and hurled her toward a tree. She missed hitting the tree—and the nearby tombstone—but he was already closing in for another attack. Alex peeled her bruised body off the ground and jumped to her feet. The Convictionites were just standing around, clearly overjoyed to watch Logan hand her ass to her.

Ok, you can fix this,
she told herself.

Are you talking to me?
her dragon asked.

No, just giving myself a pep talk. You can keep an eye on the Convictionites.

But they’re boring,
her dragon complained.
They don’t even have any bullets left.

Then find some other way to annoy them. Like setting their pants on fire.

With that sorted out, Alex turned to the more pressing matter: freeing Logan from the Convictionites’ control. She could see the glistening bands of magic that extended from the device to him, directing him like a puppet. As he moved toward her, his muscles straining against the magic, she blasted him with a net of mixed magic. He pushed against the net, his own magic unraveling the elemental spells on the outer layer. Beneath the surface, though, lay other magic. Magic-breaking magic. Alex twisted it around his body, rubbing it into his skin. Then, as the final elemental spell snapped, she shoved the magic through him. Smoke spat out of the control device, and the Convictionite holding it let go. It smashed against the ground, now nothing more than a tangled heap of metal and wires. The last whisper of magic faded from it.

“Oops, I did it again,” Alex said.

Logan’s head snapped around, his eyes locking onto the Convictionites. The sneers on their faces faded. He ran at them, his movements even faster now that he was in full control of his body. The Convictionites scattered.

A few of them were already running around wildly, slapping their bottoms in a futile attempt to put out the flames. Maniacal laughter echoed in Alex’s mind. It appeared her dragon had taken her suggestion to set their pants on fire.

Alex jumped into the fray, standing back-to-back with Logan as the two of them decimated the Convictionite forces. His aura was buzzing with adrenaline, its intoxicating song dragging her under too. They slashed and tore and kicked. Bodies fell to the ground, their hatred dying with them.

“They’re gone,” Logan finally said.

The horrible, wonderful high of battle was still buzzing against her burning skin. Her magic had gone completely haywire. It tore through her body in hard, pulsing beats. The irresistible urge to burn everything in sight throbbed inside of her.

“I’m drunk,” she slurred.

“You haven’t had any alcohol.” His lips were so close she could almost taste him. He should be kissing her. Why wasn’t he kissing her?

“Drunk on magic.” Her magic flared up in approval.

“I’m a little magic-drunk myself,” he admitted. His aura was purring. Pounding. Wanting. He reached out toward her—then dropped his hand. “We’re not safe out here in the open. There are more coming.”

Alex swallowed hard, forcing her magic back beneath the surface. It really didn’t want to go and fought her all the way down. “Ok.” Her body was still tingling, but some semblance of rational thought was returning. For one, she realized it wouldn’t be the best idea to burn everything in sight. “Let’s get back and see what we can do with those blueprints. My magic is screaming for another fight.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Wild Magic

WHEN ALEX AND Logan got to the hotel, Naomi and Marek still weren’t back from their shopping trip. They might still be awhile. Naomi never did anything halfway, and that went double for shopping. Marek wasn’t exactly famous for his subtlety either. The two of them would probably return with enough magical chemicals to take down the whole Convictionite building.

Logan’s 3D program was still working on the blueprints, so Alex made them a snack to recover from the great calorie-exodus in the cemetery. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she could manage to chop up a few strawberries. And keeping her hands busy was helping her reign in her wild magic. It had settled down—kind of. Instead of wanting to burn things, she was now just feeling the burning need to make out with Logan.

“Do you think Shadowstalker and the Convictionites are working together?” she asked as she set down the bowls of strawberries on the table.

Talking about work was probably safer right now than remembering the aftermath of their battle in the cemetery—the hard, heavy beat of his magic against hers, daring her to throw him against a tree and have her way with him right then and there.

“Alex?”

She shook herself. “Sorry.” So much for not getting distracted. “What did you say?”

“That I didn’t find anything linking Shadowstalker to the Convictionites. In fact, he regularly takes jobs from supernatural clients,” he replied, shoveling down strawberries like there was no tomorrow. He must have expended as much energy as she had, felling evil foes like an ancient god. His sword slashing, his skin glistening with sweat.

Focus.

Thanks,
she told her dragon.

“But just because he’s worked for supernaturals, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t take a job from the Convictionites if the price were right,” she said.

“They wouldn’t take him.”

“You mean, they refuse to hire people who aren’t as bigoted as they are?”

“Something like that,” he said. “I don’t think the Convictionites hired him. If they had, he wouldn’t have run away when they came into the cemetery. They aren’t on the same side.”

“Maybe not, but they do have something in common,” she told him. “They both really want to see me dead.”

“That won’t happen.”

He slid his arm over her shoulder, squeezing her tightly to him. She was hyperaware of his thigh brushing against hers. Before she could do anything impulsive, however, he’d already dropped his hand from her shoulder so he could assault the remainder of his strawberries.

“I’ve learned a few things about Shadowstalker,” said Logan. “Technically, he is human, but he’s what supernaturals call a ‘Bottled Mage’.”

In other words, he had no magic of his own, but he used a variety of magic chemicals, substances, and pre-packaged spells. That was another thing he had in common with the Convictionites. They both used borrowed magic.

That also explained why she’d had trouble sensing him. The potpourri of a hundred different magical sources was throwing off her radar. The miasma of magic was probably throwing off Logan’s supernatural tracking abilities as well.

“Unfortunately, knowing his methods hasn’t helped me find him,” Logan continued. “I need to do more research.”

She chuckled. “I had a feeling you’d say something like that.”

“Research is the cornerstone of a good plan, Alex.”

“So is a big sword and lots of magic.”

“You’ve sure taken well to your newfound magical freedom,” he commented.

“Anything that allows me to do tons of damage and get the bad guys falls under ‘awesome’ in my book.”

Logan’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then flipped open his computer. “The blueprints are ready.”

She set her empty bowl inside of his, then pushed them across the table. “Then let’s have a look.”

What she found on Logan’s screen was fancier than any blueprints she’d ever seen. The three-dimensional layouts were completely interactive, allowing him to move across and between floors with fluid ease.

“The underground level is our target. Look here.” He zoomed in on a section of the basement. “You see that wall?”

“It’s thinner than the others.”

“Right.” He nodded. “I was down there once and thought that wall looked different than the others. Here.” He panned the layout to the right, following a narrow tube.

“A tunnel?” she asked.

“An escape tunnel. My mother puts them into all her buildings. The entrance to it has been temporarily sealed.”

“So that outsiders cannot wander into her secret lair?”

“Right,” he said. “The other end of the escape tunnel has also been blocked off.”

Alex pointed at that other end. “What is there?”

“An abandoned underground station. And that’s where we will enter. We’ll break through the wall linking it to the escape tunnel, head down the tunnel toward the Convictionite base, then break through that wall to enter the underground level.”

“That’s where the Blood Orb is being kept,” she told him. “I can feel it down there.”

“You can tell what level it’s on?”

“I’ve been working on my accuracy. I thought it might be useful.”

“It is. And also so responsible of you.”

“Shh.” She winked at him. “Don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my image.”

“Too late for that, sweetheart. Your image is already ruined by hanging out with that Slayer guy.”

“He is such a nerd,” she agreed. “It’s a good thing he has the body of a god.”

“Careful now, I might just blush.”

“Do assassins even blush?”

“Only on the inside,” he said. “Outward displays of emotion are explicitly forbidden by Section 6, Paragraph 2 of the Official Assassin’s Handbook.”

She stared at his granite face. “You’re messing with me.”

“Yes.” His lip twitched.

“There’s no Official Assassin’s Handbook, is there?”

“Oh, there’s a handbook all right. But it focuses on more practical matters.”

Like all the ways to infiltrate strongholds and kill warlords, no doubt.

“What’s really in Section 6, Paragraph 2?” she asked.

“The use of lie-detectors as an interrogation technique.”

“You don’t even need them. You can always tell when someone is lying.”

“Not always. I only know seventy-eight percent of the time with you. Roughly.”

“Oh, I see.
Roughly
.” She snorted. “Logan, one of these days we need to introduce you to an actual rough number.”

“One of us wouldn’t survive the encounter,” he replied cooly.

“Was that a joke?”

“Yes.”

She laughed.

“On the other hand, there are some things you don’t hide nearly as well as your lies,” he said, his leg brushing against hers.

A wave of liquid fire washed through her, stringing up every nerve ending along the way.