Magic Without Mercy (32 page)

My heart sank when I saw Kevin, Violet’s bodyguard and Zayvion’s friend, at one side near the back of the group. I had hoped he could have stayed out of this, and instead been with Violet protecting her and my little brother.

Bartholomew’s Truth spell bitch, Melissa Whit, had a shotgun in one hand and an ax at her hip, and was staring straight at me and grinning. There were more unfamiliar faces from Portland, and probably Seattle.

I recognized Paige Iwamoto, the Blood magic user from Seattle, with her knife and a whip; the handsome Nik Pavloski, who carried a sword; the family-man Closer Joshua Romero, who had a gun tucked in his belt, but both his hands free.

Many of those standing against us were people I liked. People I did not want to hurt. People who had had their
memories Closed by Bartholomew. People who believed that by following Jingo Jingo, and taking us down, they were doing the right thing.

“Magic has been poisoned,” I said, my voice plenty loud enough to carry across to where Jingo Jingo stood. “And it’s killing everyone in this city. We think we’ve found a way to purify it. Bartholomew wouldn’t listen to us; he didn’t care that people were dying or that the—the epidemic was spreading as more and more innocent people were poisoned by magic—”

“And so you shot him,” Jingo said. “Shot a man because he wasn’t doing things your way. Do you think you have the knowledge to be the head of the Authority? Do you think you can make the decisions that need to be made to keep magic safe in this town? Do you think you can kill a man just because he’s in your way?”

“If you stand between me and my goal tonight, I think we’re going to find out,” I said.

“Now, now, little angel,” Jingo said. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’ve been watching you all along—don’t think we haven’t. We saw you go to the Life well, then the warehouse. We saw you out Tracking, and we sure as much saw Zayvion Jones throw that Grounding spell that nearly broke a street. We’ve been holding out hope that you’d turn yourself around and realize you’ve been used. There’s still time for your redemption, Allison. But that time’s running short.

“You can see you are outnumbered. But I am a reasonable man. I’m going to give you a chance to listen to reason. To listen to the things I know, things your daddy never wanted you to know. I’ve been watching him all your life, Allison. Watching you all your life. I know what he’s been using you for, know just how much he’s been using you. Your memories, your soul. Even your body, God have mercy.”

Don’t listen to him,
Dad said in my mind.
He sharpens his lies with an edge of truth so they cut deeper. He doesn’t know me, Allison. He doesn’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve sacrificed to see that you are safe. That magic is safe.

Jingo put one hand up to his ear. “Is that your daddy I hear talking to you now? Bet he’s saying as how I don’t know what he’s been doing to you all your life. Bet he’s saying I don’t know him, what he is. But I do. Oh, yes, I do, Daniel. I know you. Know what you’ve done to your little girl.”

Lies,
Dad said.
He only wants to stop you from doing what you know is right. From cleansing magic.

“What’s he done?” I asked. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn what Jingo Jingo thought my dad had done to me. Right now, it was the last thing I wanted to know. But if it would keep Jingo Jingo talking, and give Cody more time to unlock Stone, then we could chat about every crappy day of my crappy daughter-father relationship.

“When you were a child, it was terrible things,” Jingo said. “Things the law would have put him away for—things the Authority itself tried to put him away for. Things we might have had to kill him for. But he had his money and he had his Influence and he had no soul. No soul at all.”

People were shifting, spreading out to the sides of the Illusion barrier, while Jingo talked. There were so many of them. They could pull on so much more magic than we could. It would take them only one hard rush to bring us down.

“Keep an eye on the edges,” I said quietly.

“We got it,” Hayden said.

None of us had our weapons drawn. I didn’t see any indication that the Authority was going to make a move yet. But it was just a matter of time.

We were severely outnumbered, outpowered. There
was no option of retreat unless we wanted to leave Stone, Nola, and Cody to their mercy. Jingo Jingo’s mercy.

And one twitch, one flick of a wrist, one glint of a spell, would set this whole thing off like a powder keg.

“You want to know the saddest thing, Allison Angel?” Jingo Jingo took a step forward and so did the other sixty people surrounding him.

“Sure,” I said, reaching out for Zayvion’s hand as he was reaching for mine. “What’s the saddest thing?”

“Your daddy’s pushed himself inside you tight as a man can be. He’s made you think he’s doing it for your own good. That he’s helping you. That he doesn’t want to be there, but now that he is, you need him and you need to listen to him. The saddest thing,” Jingo said, taking another step, “is you know in your heart he’s been using you, treating you like nothing more than a napkin he’s going to throw away when he’s done wiping his mouth. You won’t get rid of him because you think the pain is worth the good he’s promising. The good he says he can help you do for the world.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. But my heart was pounding, my mouth dry. There was truth in his words, but I didn’t know how much.

“You think that Boy of Mama’s would have almost died if it weren’t for enemies your father made? You think those disks Violet invented would have been stolen and used to turn Greyson into a beast if your daddy hadn’t wanted them to? You think your daddy didn’t know Zayvion, the one man you ever loved, would stand up and be killed fighting Greyson? You think it was your idea to go clear on over into death to save Mr. Jones? No. It was your father’s idea, Daniel’s idea. Because he needed a way to fulfill his dealings with Mikhail. He needed to give to him that little bit of magic you used to hold inside you—magic he stole from you, his baby girl.
And when you came back into life, he made sure you opened the way for Leander and Isabelle to come on over into this living world so they could possess Greyson, and kill Chase.”

Collins nodded, and Victor was frowning. Even Maeve seemed to know some of this was true. She glanced down the line at me, though I don’t think she was looking for my reaction. I think she was looking for Dad’s reaction.

He remained silent in my mind. Didn’t say a single word to refute what Jingo Jingo was saying. It was terrifying.

“Your daddy wanted all this,” Jingo Jingo said, holding his arms out wide. “Your daddy planned all this. He bargained away Shamus Flynn—the son of the man he killed—to let Mikhail get up inside him and use him, like he’s using you. Even your friend Davy is half alive and dying fast because of your daddy and his driving need to take over the world, take over magic, light and dark, and rule it all for himself.

“And you, Allison. His own daughter. You think you’ve been making your own choices all your life? Making up your own mind? He owns your mind. He took your memories, so many memories, it’s a wonder you have a mind left at all. He stole away anything he didn’t want you to know and fed you full of the things he wanted you to believe. Made up memories for you that suited his needs. And when you had nothing of your own left, he moved into you, into those places he’d made for himself.

“So he could use you. So he could get what he wanted—no matter what price you would have to pay. And you know what price you’re paying? Your life. You’ve paid your life for his ambition.

“He’s left you poor. Put that vile man Collins into
your life to give you the gun he told you to take so you could kill his enemy Bartholomew Wray. You are a killer now, Allison Beckstrom. He made you that. And it don’t matter whose law you’re trying to follow—you know it’s wrong. You know it’s a sin to walk up to a man and shoot him in the head. But your daddy don’t care. Your daddy wanted you to take Bartholomew down. To turn against the Authority and take anyone in your path—in your daddy’s path—out of the way. So he could rule magic. So he could wrest it from the Authority’s hands and use it for what he wants. Eternal life.”

Hayden swore softly. I knew what he was thinking. This made sense. This all made sense.

And still, my father was silent.

“And you’ve been a good little girl and did just what he wanted you to do. All this time. All your life. You know your daddy don’t ever do a single thing without thinking out the ways it will work to his advantage. He didn’t want you born, but he’s turned you to his advantage. You’ve been a fine tool for him. Fine. But he’s near worn you out.

“Now’s the time for you to walk away from that devil of a father. Step away, Allison. We’ll help you. We’ll get him out of you for good. Then you can let the Authority take care of magic the right way, the proper way. Then you can let the Authority take care of the world. That hasn’t ever been your place, to try to save the world. A sweet little Hound like you? No, you weren’t meant for that. Not at all. No matter what your daddy tells you.”

I was trembling, sweating. Angry, confused, and, yes, frightened. Why didn’t Dad defend himself? Why didn’t he tell me these were all lies?

Zayvion squeezed my hand, and I held on to him, focusing on that contact to pull me away from the fear, the doubt, the horror of a lifetime of being used by my father.
Even if Jingo Jingo wasn’t right about everything, it was easy to believe he could be. Could be right about it all.

“Interesting theory,” I said. “But I think you haven’t considered one thing. Maybe I’ve been using him.”

Jingo’s head snapped up and he stared at me for a long moment. Apparently he hadn’t wondered if I was the upper hand in this creep-a-thon my dad and I had going.

And from the sudden still focus from my father, he hadn’t ever considered it either.

Then Jingo Jingo smiled, a big wide grin that glowed like a flash of moonlight against his dark skin, against the dark of the night.

“Oh, I don’t think so, girl,” Jingo said. “You don’t have it in you to be that kind of cruel. Not like your daddy.”

I smiled back. “Maybe I don’t have to. My father and I see eye to eye on a lot of things right now. Maybe he and I have made deals. Contracts that cancel any kind of deal you negotiated with him. Deals that cut you out, and expose you for what you are, Jingo. A rapist. An abuser. A murderer. A monster who’s not fit to breathe.”

“You gonna throw your lot in with your daddy?” Jingo Jingo asked. “You going to do that now? Can’t you see who’s holding the power on this field?”

He spread his hands, the left still holding his cane, to include the masses around him, behind him. Masses willing to follow his orders. Willing to kill us.

“You know your life, the life of your pretty friend Nola, your boy Davy there, and even your man Zayvion, are all in your hands right now. You make the wrong choice and they’re gonna die, Allison. Gonna die real hard.”

“You could leave,” I said. “We don’t have to do this. If you take your people and leave St. Johns, we can all walk out of this alive.”

Jingo Jingo chuckled. “You think you got any chips
left to bargain with? You’ve lived this long only because of the goodness of my heart, Allison. Because I believe you got steered wrong by your father. But at just a flick of my fingers”—he flicked his fingers, and I flinched—“this whole town, you and all your friends, are gonna fall beneath me.”

“We won’t follow you,” I said. “We won’t let innocent people die because of the decisions Bartholomew made. And we won’t let innocent people die because of the decisions you make.”

“I never said I wanted innocent people to die,” Jingo Jingo said. “Not ever once did I say so. There will be casualties. Always is in a war. But you tell me where the simulacrum is, and I let you walk out of this park still breathing.”

Don’t trust him,
Dad said.

So now he wanted to talk?

“What simulacrum?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.

“That’s the question, now, isn’t it?” Jingo Jingo said. “That’s the thing I want to know. You ask your daddy for me. Tell him if he gives me the simulacrum, I’ll let you live.”

He wants Stone,
Dad said.

Stone’s a simulacrum?

Stone is an Animate. Jingo thinks I have a simulacrum hidden away. Some legendary thing that will promise the user power over all magic. I don’t have anything like that, but if he sees Stone holding dark and light magic and filtering it, he’ll think that’s what he is. He’ll take him. He’ll destroy him. And he’ll destroy our only chance to stop the spread of poison.

“He doesn’t have a simulacrum,” I said to Jingo Jingo. “He lied to you.”

Jingo Jingo chuckled. “That what he told you, child?”

“That’s the truth.”

“Well, then. We just might need to see what you’ve got hid behind that wall at your back.”

I drew my sword. As if we were one, we all drew our weapons.

“That’s not going to happen,” I said. “Turn and leave. Or die.”

Jingo Jingo laughed. “There’s ten of you. There’s sixty of us. I’m not going to be the one dying this day.”

And just then there was a movement behind us. I wondered, briefly, if Cody had finished unlocking Stone, wondered if the wall had fallen, wondered if Nola was stepping through, unprotected, unguarded.

Everyone in front of us noticed the movement too.

As well they should.

Because it wasn’t the wall falling. Stone wasn’t unlocked and free.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw the Hounds, my Hounds, forty at least, men and women, people I knew well, like Jack and Bea and Sid, and people I’d worked with only briefly over the years, fading out of the shadows, and storming this way. They carried baseball bats, guns, rifles, knives, axes. They were ragged, hard-edged, grim. And they came to stand behind me, at my back, ready to take my fight on as their fight.

Because Hounds never abandoned their own.

My people. I had never felt so fiercely proud of who I was, who I had chosen to be. Had never been so proud of whom I counted as my friends.