Magic on the Storm (11 page)

Instead, I wondered who usually filled the empty seat next to Sedra, wondered
if perhaps it had been my father.
Interestingly, Jingo Jingo, who usually made himself a part of any gathering,
was nowhere to be seen.
Weird.
“Please be seated, so we may begin,” Victor said.
Everyone made their way to seats, filling the tables ahead of us, and behind
us.
“Please, please, please,” Shame whispered so quietly, I wasn’t sure if he said
it or I imagined he did.
Zay and Terric walked toward us, a study in opposites, and yet both powerful,
calm, confident. Terric angled to take the seat next to Paige. Zay sat next to
me, shifting his chair so he could better see the front of the room.
“Exhale before your head explodes,” Zay said quietly. “He’s not coming to the
table.”
Shame exhaled.
Victor began speaking. “As many of you have heard, we have an unprecedented
warning that a wild-magic storm will be hitting the Portland area soon. We
think it will strike within the next forty-eight hours. That gives us some time
to coordinate our efforts and work together against this threat.”
He paused, taking the time to make some eye contact. I’d seen my dad do that when
he was facing a hostile audience. While Victor did that, I glanced at the body
language within my range of sight.
Tight. Pensive. Maybe not explosive but damn close. Pretty much the same as
when I’d walked in.
I’d already figured that these people were secretive and suspicious. But until
this moment, I hadn’t realized that these people barely tolerated one another.
Neat.
That brewing war? I’d put my bet on the table that it was done brewing. All it
needed now was a spark to set it off.
My stomach clenched as I realized the war might already be on, and lines might
already be drawn as to who should use magic, and how it should be used. And I
had no idea who wanted what, nor whose side I was on.
I reached back in my head to see if Dad had something to say about all this,
but he had been quiet as a corpse—ha, not funny—ever since I walked through
that door.
I had the feeling he didn’t much want to give Liddy or Jingo Jingo or anyone
else an excuse to go digging around in my head looking for him.
Victor was done with the eye-contact pause.
“Our largest concern for the citizens of the area is that the wild magic will
interrupt, or warp, the spells already in place in the city. We’ve compiled a
detailed list of businesses and services that we will monitor and protect, and
prioritized them from the most vital to the least, and divided that by the
quadrants of the city. Since St. Johns has no conduits for magic, we’ll just
need to cover four of the five quadrants.”
He glanced down at the laptop, then back up. “I know many of you have . . .
vested concerns in the way magic is made available to the public. Here in this
city, and in others. Now is not the time to push those agendas forward. Loss of
life has never been the Authority’s goal, and certainly now, more than any
other time, a significant loss of life at the hand, influence, or neglect of a
member of the Authority would carry dire consequences to any and all involved.”
Threats. There’s a neat way to ruin friendships and attract enemies.
“We’ve put together a suggested list of which businesses and services we’d like
members to monitor. It’s been an . . . exhausting few days.” He took a drink of
water.
“This list isn’t perfect. I’m sure there will be changes. We’ll distribute it
in a moment. Are there any questions so far?”
There were. About forty-five minutes of questions, most of them dealing with
things I did not understand. It was like everyone had suddenly switched to a
foreign language, half of which sounded like it dealt with magic, and the other
half sounded like some kind of underground lingo.
“Should I be understanding any of this?”
Zay leaned back a bit. “It’s pretty standard elbowing and power plays for who
gets to do what.”
He didn’t look concerned, so I took his lead and passed the time trying to
remember names and what kinds of magic the people in the room preferred to use.
The gathered members of the Authority were pretty evenly split between the four
disciplines—well, five if you counted the mix of magic and technology my dad
had pushed into use.
But watching how they spoke to one another, or more so, how they didn’t speak
or look at one another, I could see the tension, the cracks and fractures,
between them, divided not by what magic they used but rather by who should use
it, and how.
And I found it fascinating—no, frightening—that no one had mentioned that there
was the very real possibility that the well was already being affected by the
coming storm. The magic in it was being drained—maybe by the storm. Seemed to
me that we had two potential disasters on the horizon.
Perhaps that went without saying.
It sucked to be the newest kid in the club. And I hadn’t even earned my decoder
ring.
Sedra stood. Everyone watched her, waiting. It wasn’t exactly reverence, but
more a shared acknowledgment that she would make the decisions they would all
have to live with. For good and bad.
“We will set spells in place to further monitor vital systems and services
throughout the city,” she said, her musical voice at contrast with her strict
demeanor. “But until the storm hits, we wait.”
You couldn’t have quieted a room faster if you’d shoved a sock in every mouth.
Zayvion looked Zen on the outside, but inside he burned with anger.
“I thought it was agreed we would coordinate our efforts,” he said, his quiet
voice filling the room.
“That,” Terric said, “is what I also understood. We would plan for the worst,
and meet it head-on. We have time on our side for once. We can plan how to
mitigate the magical onslaught.”
With every word Terric spoke, Shamus hunkered into himself, his hands tucked
into his pockets, one shoulder hitched as if he could deflect the pain.
Sedra gave both men a cool, emotionless gaze. “Closers,” she said, like it was
a dirty word she didn’t want in her mouth, “will need to watch for gates
opening, for breaches between life and death. I expect you are willing to do
your duty and abide by the wisdom of the Voices of the Authority?”
Voices. She meant the highest-level magic users: Maeve, Victor, Liddy, and
Sedra herself. My father too, once, though no one had yet taken his position.
“I will do what is asked of me,” Terric said.
“Zayvion?” she asked. “Will you abide by the wisdom of the Authority?”
Okay, I was starting to dislike her imperious, overly formal, condescending tone.
Oh, who was I kidding? I hated the way she high-handed people. I’d watched it
over the last couple months. When this woman said
jump
, everyone asked
her when they should come back down.
Yes, she was the head of the Authority. But there was something unrelenting
about the woman. As if she had to work hard to cover her hatred for everything
and everyone around her. And I knew Zayvion Jones, the
gate-guardian-do-my-duty-until-death, would bow to her just like everyone else.
“I’ll do everything in my power to keep the city safe,” Zayvion said.
Well, well. Not exactly a “yes, ma’am.” I wondered whether she would let it
pass.
“So let me get this right,” Hayden said. The burly giant was standing by the
door, arms crossed over his wide chest. If Zayvion’s voice had been loud,
Hayden’s was thunder. “No pre-spells, no triggers, no traps, filters, no backup
conduits or overload lines? How exactly are we supposed to keep these places,
hospitals, prisons, nursing homes, warded from the effects of the storm?”
Victor nodded. “We’ve decided to approach this with as little magic use as
possible because of how powerful the storm appears to be. Too many spells and
too many members supporting those spells, managing the pain—even with
Proxies—will limit how quickly we can react when the storm hits.”
“The big plan here is to wait and see how bad we’re beat before we start
fighting?” Hayden chuckled. “There’s a winning strategy.”
Victor glared at Hayden, but the big man just put his hand out, as if to say it
wasn’t his bright idea.
“All considerations have been addressed, Mr. Kellerman,” Victor said. “We work
together, as we have worked together in bygone times. If we fight each other,
there will be consequences that will benefit none of us.”
“Well, then.” Hayden clapped his hands together and so effectively broke the
tension building in the room, I wondered if he’d cast a spell. “Sounds like all
that’s left is to gut and clean. What part of town am I covering?”
He strode across the room toward Victor. As he passed, people sort of shook off
the intensity of the meeting. Smaller conversations cropped up again, and
people stood, stretched. Shame was on his feet, and heading to the lunch
counter and bar at the back of the room. I turned to watch him. I wasn’t the
only one.
Terric shifted in his chair, and stared at Shame’s back. His expression seemed
calm, but the tightness at the edges of his eyes, in the angle of his jaw,
spoke of restraint. And desire.
Interesting.
Shame slipped behind the lunch counter and dug around for something. I heard
the thick clink of beer bottles; then Shame reappeared, three beers caught in
the fingers of one hand, the fourth already pressed to his lips.
He lowered the beer, grinned at me, and then strode over, changing his gaze to
meet Terric’s straight on.
Boy didn’t run from trouble. That was sure.
Terric stood and walked over to our table. Looked like he didn’t run from
trouble either.
Zay turned to face Shame too. Shame was still grinning. Since I was not about
to be the only person sitting if this was going to turn into a brawl, I stood
as well.
“Allie.” Shame offered me a beer. “You still owe me.”
I took it even though I didn’t like beer.
“Zay.” Zayvion, behind me, reached over my shoulder and took the beer Shame
offered.
“Terric.” Shame extended the last beer to him.
Terric took the beer. “Think you owe me more than a beer, Shamus.”
Shame’s heartbeat rose, but I didn’t think the other men noticed. They weren’t
Hounds. They didn’t have to live off instinct and the subtle shifts in the
people around them to survive.
“Well, today you’re getting a beer,” Shamus said. He tipped his and gave us all
a half nod. “To the hunt. To the kill. Till the world stands still.”
“To the hunt,” Zay and Terric said.
I just raised my beer and took a tiny sip. Nope. Still didn’t like the stuff.
“I heard about Greyson,” Terric said.
Shame nodded. “Have you seen him?”
“I just got in a couple hours ago.”
Shame glanced around the room. “It’s not like they’ll let us out of this, but
we’ve got a few minutes. Want to see?”
Zay took another drink of his beer. He wrapped his hand around my hip and
hooked his thumb in my front pocket, the heel of his hand pressed against my
hip bone. This close, I could feel his worry and anger that did not show
through that Zen exterior. I didn’t know exactly what he was angry about.
Terric paused, just a beat too long, before answering. “I’m sure you have
somewhere else to be,” he said to Shame. “I know I do.” He took another swig of
the beer, looked Shamus right in the eyes. “Thanks for the beer.”
Shame nodded. Looked easy. Casual about the whole thing. But that response was
a slap in the face.
Terric turned to me. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to meet you, Ms.
Beckstrom. I hope to remedy that in the future.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I said.
Terric made brief eye contact with Zay. Something changed in his expression.
Sort of like ice breaking under pressure. He turned back to Shame. “Don’t take
me being here as anything other than it is. Authority business.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Shame said.
“We have an understanding, then?”
“Hatred, with a heaping side of grudge?”
Terric smiled, a fleeting thing that seemed to warm through the ice, flicked to
life by Shame’s agreement. “That should cover it. Except for one thing. While I
am here, you and I will not get in each other’s way.”
“You know me, Terric. I’d rather be almost anywhere than near you.”
“Shame—,” Zay said.
“No.” Terric held one hand toward Zayvion. Then to Shame, “We stay out of each
other’s way. Tell me we’re clear on that.”
“Twenty-twenty,” Shame said.
Terric nodded. “Good. I’ll speak with you soon, Zay, Allie.” He strode off
toward the front of the room where people were poring over Victor’s laptop and
maps. I realized I’d been holding my fingers spread and ready to cast a spell.
I closed my hand and stuck it in my pocket.
“You didn’t have to be an ass,” Zayvion said.
Shame tipped his beer up to his mouth again. Empty.
“You know I love you, Jones,” he said, “but stay the hell out of my business.” He
didn’t wait for Zay’s reply. Didn’t have to. He’d known him long enough he
could give himself whatever speech Zay had planned.
Shame turned and walked away, to the bar again. He slipped behind it, found
another beer, then stormed out the doors there, patting his pockets for a
smoke.
Zay leaned into me a little more, or maybe he pulled me back toward him.
“They’ll be okay.” I tried to say it as a statement, but it came out all
question.
Probably because Zay’s doubt and concern washed through me. He hurt for Shame
like a brother who knew there was nothing he could do to fix the pain Shame had
gotten himself into.
“Terric won’t try to hurt him, will he?” I asked. “He’s a good guy, right?”
“We’re all good guys,” Zay said.
Yeah, he believed that as much as I did.
“Zayvion?” Victor was making his way across the room, looking like a man who
knew how to wield a sword. And since he was one of my teachers, in magic and in
physical defense, I actually knew he could swing a sword. Very well, as a
matter of fact.
Zay pulled away so we no longer touched.
I’d never seen Victor looking so ragged. His eyes were bloodshot, and his
usually clean-shaven face shadowed a beard.
“I’m going to go over the quadrants and coverage with the Closers now,” he
said. “Would you join us, please?”
“What about Chase?” Zay asked.
“She’s here.”
Zay took a second to find her in the crowd. I did too, since I hadn’t seen her
earlier. I spotted her walking in through the archway at the front of the room.
Beyond that arch was the hall that led to sitting rooms and a stairway to the
basement, where her ex-lover Greyson currently resided in a cage. She looked
angry, shell-shocked, sick. Like she’d just seen something, or done something,
very, very wrong.