Blood Magic (Dragon Born Alexandria Book 2) (26 page)

You killed him because he wouldn’t have stopped until you were dead.

Nor will someone like Margery Kensington. To her, the Dragon Born are abominations. I should kill her before she realizes what I am and hires someone to finish the job Nightshade botched.

Ok, so say you kill her. Then what? Worst case, her colleagues on the Magic Council figure out what you are and send assassins after you. Lots and lots of assassins.

I will cover my tracks. I can be stealth.

Her dragon snorted.

Fine, maybe she couldn’t be stealth.
Then I’ll kill them too.

More will come. There will always be more.

Alex shivered, the steam doing nothing to melt the ice inside.
I know.

Now for the best case. Say you kill her and everything goes perfectly to plan. You take out your revenge on the reason your father is dead. Her Magic Council colleagues don’t find out about you. Happily ever after, right?

Alex sighed.
I still have to live with the fact that I killed Marek’s mother.

Exactly.

When did you get to be so rational?
Alex demanded.

I guess Logan’s influence is rubbing off on me too,
her dragon replied.

She sounded rather excited. Or was that annoyed?

It’s both. I think,
she told Alex.
Your boyfriend might be easy on the eyes, but he really needs to lighten up. The tall, dark, and gloomy look is so last century. You’re good for him. Tell him that for me.

I can try, but I get the feeling that he still thinks your commentary is just a symptom of my split-personality disorder.

Her dragon grinned.
Maybe it is.

With that settled—uh, sort of—Alex turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She dried herself with one of the hotel’s big, fluffy towels that felt like bathing in whipped cream. Then she turned to the stack of clothes. For the first time in a week after never, her outfit had survived an outing, so she could put it back on again.

When she stepped into the living room, Logan was waiting. He stood with his back against the bar, sipping a steaming cup of coffee as he watched her approach. His face was more neutral than usual.

“You checked up on what your mother said, didn’t you?” she asked, stopping in front of him.

“I did.”

“You thought she was lying?”

“No,” he said. “I could tell she was speaking the truth. But I wanted to learn more about Nightshade. As it turns out, the assassin often did jobs for Margery Kensington. He completed three for her in the six months leading up to his death. And those are just the official ones.”

“And the unofficial ones?”

“I didn’t find anything about her sending Nightshade to investigate rumors of Dragon Born mages. It isn’t on the official lists of the Assassin’s Guild. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more unlisted jobs that he did for her. From what I could gather, she liked to use him to clean up her messes.”

“Yeah, and what are the Dragon Born to the Magic Council except one big mess to clean up.” Alex grabbed a piece of chocolate from the bowl on the counter. “Did you find anything else?”

“Although there’s no listing of the Dragon Born job with the Assassin’s Guild, it’s important to remember that Nightshade was a mage.”

“Which means he must be registered with the Mage Triad,” Alex realized. Damn, why hadn’t she thought of that before?

“Arif Silva, aka Nightshade. First tier telekinetic and elemental mage. Magic Sniffer. World ranks: #1 of telekinetics, #7 of elementals, #8 sniffers as of October 2007,” Logan rattled off like he’d memorized an official document.

“That explains why he was so hard to kill,” Alex commented. “But how do you know all that?”

“I stole the files from the Mage Triad.”

“Which you had time to do while I took a shower?”

“Sure. I just hacked their system from here.”

Alex laughed. “Delinquent.”

“I’ve been called worse insults.”

“Actually, that was a compliment,” she told him. “A appreciative comment on the usefulness of your skills.”

“I see.”

“Did you find anything else?”

“Not much. Nightshade’s official file with the Mage Triad says he went ‘rogue’, but there are no details. They likely assumed he’d deserted because they didn’t find a body when they went looking for him.”

“If only he’d deserted.”

Logan set down his coffee cup. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in closer. She buried her face in his chest. She inhaled the hot, intoxicating masculine blend. His scent. It flooded her nose and swirled against her senses. He smelled like sex after a long, hard sprint through the jungle. He smelled like winter fires and hard-won victories. Most of all, though, he smelled like home. She wanted to stand here with him like this forever.

Forever was cut short.

“They’re back,” he whispered, each syllable kissing her skin.

The door to their suite beeped.

“Are the hybrids all right?” Alex asked as Naomi and Marek joined them beside the bar.

“They have all been safely returned to their families and friends,” Naomi said. “Well, after the Magic Council’s interrogators had grilled them on everything they know.” Her sour expression left no question as to what she thought about that.

“It’s necessary,” Marek told her. “One of them might remember something that could help us stop the Convictionites.”

“And Eva?” Alex asked.

“She’s all right.” Naomi’s face softened. “She’s at home resting.”

Marek expelled the sigh of a hundred sleepless nights.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Alex asked him. “Have you told her how you feel?”

Most of the time, Marek’s magic sizzled and sparked like the first tier mage that he was. Right now, it was as limp as a deflated balloon. “No,” he said. “I want to be with her again, but I was so horridly awful to her before. I don’t believe she’ll ever forgive me.”

“Love forgives,” Naomi told him. “I’ve arranged a little meet up. Eva has agreed to hear your pleas, but she stipulated that they must come with chocolate attached.”

Hope sparked in his hazel eyes. It ignited his magic. Like a flipped switch, it flared up, regaining some of its previous luster.

“I also suggest a good amount of groveling,” she said.

“I’ll practice.”

“Good because you’re about as humble as a peacock.”

Marek folded his hands in front of him and tried to look contrite.

“Better,” she told him, then turned to Alex and Logan. “The fight that started here yesterday has spread.”

Logan didn’t lose a beat. “How far?”

“Humans and supernaturals are clashing in six major cities worldwide.”

They had the internet to thank for that. Thanks to footage from last night’s massacre—what the media was calling Bloody Friday—the whole world had gotten a very up close and personal view of exactly what happened when vampires went berserk. Even as the Evil Queen had sat with them on the Panorama deck, trying to woo them to her side, she hadn’t been idle.

“And what has the Magic Council been doing while the world has crumbled to pieces?” Alex asked.

“There’s nothing they could do, Alex,” Marek replied. “Not after all the videos leaked. They tried to have them pulled, but there were too many of them. The Magic Council doesn’t have a hat big enough to hide this mess under.”

He was right. Damn it, he was. As much as Alex yearned to shove the blame onto the Magic Council—and right now she was yearning a whole lot—it wasn’t their fault. She had failed too. They’d all walked into the Convictionites’ trap.

“The senior Magic Council member in the area is calling us in to report on the Convictionites,” Naomi told them.

“Your mother?” Alex asked Marek.

“Yes.”

Margery Kensington, the woman she had every reason in the world to kill—and yet couldn’t without losing Marek’s friendship. Avenging her father’s death, or keeping one of her best friends? Yeah, this would be fun.

Alex exchanged loaded looks with Logan. “Let’s go,” she said, grabbing her sword.

You know, just in case.

* * *

In 1936, a magic duel between two of the world’s top-rated elemental mages had sparked the fire that burned down the Crystal Palace. Nearly a century later, the Magic Council footed the bill to construct a modern replica of the former palace in all its glassy glory. They’d also paid to spruce up the surrounding park. Nice, right?

Or not. The Magic Council was known for its draconian practices, not its acts of charity. It turned out Crystal Palace Park sat right over an ancient magic site of great power. The plants that grew there were infused with a unique essence that, while useless to humans, could be used to brew up some of the most potent magical drugs in the world—which were worth a pretty penny, of course.

So the Magic Council had made a deal with the city. The residents got a pretty park and a touch of nostalgia. The Magic Council got dibs on the plants they could sell to fund things like their black tie galas and the bounties on abominations like Alex. The assortment of meeting rooms they got inside the new palace was just the icing on the cake.

When the new park opened, supernaturals flocked there. No one was crazy enough to attempt to steal the plants from the Magic Council, but there were some people who got a kick out of sticking their hands into the streams of magic geysers. There were a few fairy rings between the dinosaur sculptures, and the nymphs had taken over the water of course.

“Those are just creepy,” Naomi commented to Alex as they passed a group of nymphs sunbathing atop the sculpture of some sort of prehistoric crocodile. More nymphs lay on an assortment of other creatures that Alex would have had to hack to bits with her sword if they’d still been wandering around today.

“The nymphs or the creatures?” Alex teased.

“The creatures, of course. The nymphs are harmless.”

“Tell that to all the blokes who woke up naked in the streets with no memory of how they got there,” said Marek.

Alex smirked at him. “Are you speaking from personal experience?”

“Naturally, not.”

“Nymphs’ powers should not be underestimated,” commented Logan. “Their magic is one of the strongest narcotics
and
hallucinogens known to man.”

“I’m half fairy, so I’m immune to the nymphs’ powers of seduction,” Naomi said. “Plus, they usually prefer men.”

“Usually, but not always.”

Naomi looked at Alex in surprise. “Did a nymph try to seduce you once?”

“Every kind of creature on this side of hell has tried to either seduce or kill me. Or both.”

“Were any of those seductions successful?” Logan asked, his face impassive.

She grinned at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

They continued toward the Crystal Palace. As they entered the glass building, Marek took the lead, ushering them toward the Magic Council Wing. The air smelled of oranges, orchids, and pretentious magic. The latter and Alex mixed as well as gasoline and a lit match. This would go well.

The source of the pretentious magic waited at the end of the hall in the form of two men. Though they stood like guards in front of the doorway, they dressed like princes—with enough shiny medallions and pins to blind a cyclops.

“Marek,” one of them said.

“Edric. Darin.”

“Have you grown since last you were here?” Edric asked.

“I believe he has actually grown shorter,” said Darin.

“I have neither grown taller nor shorter since last time. And the two hundred times before that. I am exactly the same height as I have been for the past eight years.”

“Really?”

Edric leaned in, as though to get a closer look at Marek, and Alex realized the two of them shared the same nose and jawline. They could have been brothers.

“Are you quite sure?” asked Darin. He looked a lot like Marek too.

“Yes.”

The two guards exchanged glances.

“He looks shorter,” said Darin.

“I do believe you’re right.”

“I’d wager his dragon is still undersized as well.”

“Well, you know what they say about the size of your dragon.”

Both guards grinned.

“So, those are your big brothers?” Alex asked Marek.

“Yes,” he ground out through gritted teeth, as though the admission pained him.

“How many brothers do you have?”

“Five.”

“All older.”

“Yes.” His jaw actually cracked that time. He was grinding his teeth so hard, it was a wonder one hadn’t popped out.

“How long have they been bullying you?” she asked him.

“Only my entire life.”

“What are you wearing, Marek?” Darin asked.

“A woman’s shirt?” Edric sneered.

Flames sprang to life on Marek’s hands.

“Careful,” warned Edric. “Mum will indenture you to Gaelyn for another ten years if you set the building on fire.”

“Set the building on fire?” A single, derisive laugh popped from Darin’s lips. “He would be lucky to set the drapes on fire with that tiny flame.”

Hot liquid lightning joined the fire, twisting up Marek’s arms. His aura was pulsing, his anger building with each beat. Any minute now, he was going to blow his top.

“Wait,” Alex said, stepping forward. “Are you out of your minds?” she demanded of Marek’s brothers.

“Oh, look. Now his girlfriend is going to protect him,” Darin said to Edric.

Edric yawned. “How predictable.”

“I am not his girlfriend,” she told them. “But I am his friend, which is more than I can say about the two of you.”

“Relax, darling.” Darin gave her an easy smile. “He’s our brother. This is all in good fun.”

“All in good fun? Does your brother look like he’s having fun?” She pointed at Marek, whose fire-lightning flames were now speckled with ice crystals. He was halfway there to brewing up the storm of the century.

“He always has been emotional,” Edric said cooly.

“Which you feast upon like vultures drawn to a dead body,” she said. “Congratulations, you’re both sociopaths.”

“We are not—”

“Sociopaths? Sure you are. You’ll have to trust me on this. I’m kind of an expert on the topic.”