Magic Edge (15 page)

“Are you all right?”

“What?” She realized her hand was over the bite mark on her neck. Even though the scar had almost completely faded, she could feel it. The spot seemed cooler than the surrounding skin, but maybe it was just all in her head. “Sure. I’m fine. Tell me about the Convictionites. They have a hideout here in Zurich?”

“They have a hideout in every major magical city,” he told her.

“Even San Francisco?”

“Yes,” he said. “Why?”

“That’s where I live. My sister and brother are there now.”

“The Convictionites talk a lot more than they act,” he said. “They don’t usually attack supernaturals. They are waiting for the right moment.”

“Like getting their hands on all the Orbs of Essence?”

“Exactly,” he said darkly.

“Gaelyn doesn’t think they can do anything with the Orbs.”

“Gaelyn is naive. The Convictionites don’t do anything without a reason. They wouldn’t go to all the trouble of stealing the Orbs if they weren’t positive it served their end game.”

“And what is their end game?”

“To purge every last supernatural from the face of the earth.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Convictionites

THEY RAN ALONG the lake, heading toward the city. Gaelyn lived just outside of Zurich—on the eastern shore—an area that had been lovingly dubbed the Gold Coast. The ‘gold’ referred to both the long hours of sunshine and to the wealth of its residents. It might also have had something to do with the huge number of fairies living there. If there was one supernatural universally loved by the humans, it was the pretty-faced fairies.

Well, almost universally loved.

“What do the Convictionites have against supernaturals?” Alex asked Logan as they ran.

“They consider them to be abominations of nature.”

Abominations. The word grated on Alex’s nerves like no other. It was the name the Magic Council had assigned all Dragon Born. The Convictionites weren’t the only bigots around.

“They preach that magic has tainted this world, disrupting the natural order,” he continued. “And that the only way to save humanity is to purge this taint.”

“Magic is a part of this world,” she said. “You could no more purge it from the earth than you could evaporate the oceans. Nor would you want to. If magic disappeared,
that
would disrupt the natural order. It would throw the whole world out of sync.”

“The extremist mind obliterates rational thought on contact. Logic is the biggest threat to their hatred.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “People can be real big idiots.”

He glanced at her. “You’re speaking from personal experience.”

“Yep.”

“This has something to do with why you hide your magic, doesn’t it?”

Alex kept silent. It seemed like the best idea. Her mouth only ever got her into trouble.

“There aren’t a whole lot of supernaturals who can dissolve metal,” he said. “Some pixies can, but you don’t look like a pixie. Or any other type of fairy for that matter. Some demon-powered vampires can do it, but again, you don’t look like them. And you don’t seem to have any trouble with sunlight. In fact, the sun doesn’t seem to affect you at all. You spend all day chasing after monsters, and you don’t have so much as a freckle to show for it.”

“Magic sunscreen,” she told him.

His jaw hardened. “There’s no such thing.”

“Sure there is,” she lied.

“Your heart rate elevates when you lie.”

“I’m running. Of course my heart rate is elevated.”

“And you sweat.”

“Again,
running
,” she emphasized.

“You maintained the same heart rate for ten minutes—until a few seconds ago.”

“Maybe I need a break. Are we almost there?” she asked.

“Yes, the hideout is near the opera house,” he said. “And you’re evading. If you’re neither fairy, vampire, or otherworldly, that leaves just one option: you’re a mage.”

“You’re forgetting the more obvious option. The human option.”

“But you’re not just any mage,” he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken at all. “You must be something special if you’re pretending to be human. Maybe you’re part of one of the older mage orders. Their members were very powerful. Most of them have fallen out of favor, though, thanks to their penchant for human and supernatural sacrifices.”

“You got me.” She threw up her hands. “I’m trying to lure you back to my cult’s secret cave so I can sacrifice you to our goddess in exchange for ultimate power. In fact, our cave is overflowing with the bones of our victims. Where do you think all those monsters I take out really end up? I’m sure good old Hugh is down there somewhere—or what’s left of him anyway.”

“You’re doing it again,” he told her.

“Doing what?”

“Making jokes.”

She shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

“When you’re panicking.”

“When I’m breathing,” she amended. “This whole thing is ridiculous. I’m human.”

“If you say so.”

Yeah, he didn’t believe her. Since the jokes weren’t working, her best course of action was to change the subject.

“So, where are you from?” Alex asked, she hoped casually.

His face was smug. “You want to know more about me?”

Maybe she should have stuck to the weather. Well, too late now.

“You’re not from around here,” she said.

“No. I’m from a bit of everywhere. Sydney, New York, Moscow, London, Munich. My family moved around a lot.”

“The family that disowned you?” she said stupidly.

“Yes. That’s the one.”

They’d reached the opera house. Thank goodness. Alex sucked at small talk.

Clouds hung dark and heavy in the sky this morning, but the dreary sky only emphasized the beauty of the building’s beige stones and pillars. Statue angels sat perched on the roof, as though they were watching over the city. Logan slowed to a walk as they passed the triple glass doorways.

“Where is the hideout?” she asked, matching his pace.

“Not far.”

They ascended the pyramid steps surrounding the opera house, squeezing through openings in the crowd. Wide-eyed spectators had gathered on the steps to watch a group of fairies in multi-colored leotards perform. The fairies jumped, flew, and flittered with balletic grace, their bodies drawing glittery pictures in the air with Fairy Dust. The fairies had everyone mesmerized.

Well, almost everyone.

A small group of people sat at the corner of the steps. They were watching the fairies too, but it was not wonder that shone in their eyes. It was hatred. Not one of those people had a single drop of magic in them, but Alex didn’t need to sense their magic to feel the miasma of vile energy coming off of them. They were Convictionites. Alex was so certain of this that she wasn’t surprised when Logan angled for them. But she wasn’t happy either.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Getting us into the hideout.”

“How? By going up to them and asking them to let us walk inside?”

“Basically, yes.”

“What happened to sneaking around and bypassing defenses? You’re an assassin. That’s what you do.”

“Usually, yes. But I scoped out their hideout before I came to get you.”

“And?”

“And their defenses are too good.”

“You kill warlords who have entire armies to protect them,” she said.

“I also spend weeks planning those operations. I’ve known the location of this hideout for two hours. We’re in a hurry, aren’t we?”

The Convictionites had three of the four Orbs. Of course they were in a hurry.

“And, as a matter of fact, the Convictionites could teach those warlords a thing or two about security,” he said. “Their defenses are airtight.”

“This is a bad idea,” she muttered, more to herself than to him.

Logan slid his arm around her hip. When she shot him an irate look, he said, “Just play along.” He synched his strides to hers. “And whatever you do, let me do the talking. We want them to let us into their hideout, not shoot at us.”

Alex was thinking of a smart retort, then she realized he was right. Her mouth was constantly getting her into trouble. She’d hate for it to get him into trouble too.

Oh you’ve got it bad.

Now is really not the time,
she told the voice.

Thankfully, it didn’t persist. Logan led them over to a man wearing a thin brown belt over white jeans. The sleeves of his button-up shirt—pale blue with a hypnotic pattern of tiny white and brown dots—were rolled up exactly to the elbows. His dark hair was styled down to the last strand. Alex had a feeling that ‘obsessive’ and ‘compulsive’ were regular ingredients in his morning coffee.

“That’s far enough,” Mr. OCD told them.

Logan stopped in front of him. “You’re in charge here.”

It wasn’t a question. Assassins didn’t ask questions. Assassins made statements.

“I’m Ben,” he said. “I know who you are.” He looked at Alex. “Both of you. I just had no idea you were working so…” His eyes darted to the hand Logan had settled on her hip. “…so closely together.”

“My interests are aligned with hers,” Logan said.

“And what interests are those?”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Ben’s eyes widened, his cool facade forgotten. A moment later, it was back. He cleared his throat and said, “Slayer and Black Plague working together. I hope you’ve arranged for someone to take care of the bodies.”

“She’s working for Gaelyn,” one of his minions piped up. “There’s a whole crew to do that.”

“So you’re one of Gaelyn’s lackeys now too?” Ben asked Logan.

“I’m no one’s lackey, least of all Gaelyn’s. And neither is she.” He leaned down, kissing her lightly. He pulled back just far enough to look her in the eyes. “I’ve made her a better offer.” His lips caressed hers as he spoke, tempting and teasing.

Ben chuckled. “I can see that.”

Alex ignored him; she ignored all of them. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was Logan and that delectable aura. He was so close that it slid and rippled against her magic, electrifying every nerve in her body.

His cheek brushed past hers, and he whispered into her ear, “Alex, whatever you’re doing to me, you need to stop.” His voice was thick and deep. “Even my self-control has its limits.”

“What am I doing?” she whispered back.

“I…I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like it before.” He swallowed hard. “But if you don’t stop, I promise you we won’t be visiting the Convictionites’ hideout.”

“What will we be doing?” she asked, her breath stuttering as he kissed her neck.

His eyelashes brushed up and he turned his eyes on her. The burning look in them was answer enough. She should pull away from him now. She shouldn’t be sliding her hands down his back—and she most certainly shouldn’t be rubbing her magic against him. Shit. Her magic was groping him, and she couldn’t make it stop. She didn’t even want to make it stop.

Shall I snap you out of it?
the voice asked.

Yes, please.

Something cold burst through her chest. The invisible blast of blizzard shot from her to Logan. His fingers dug into her shoulders.

“Are you all right?” she whispered.

“Fine. Thanks for that. Whatever that was.” His grip relaxed, and he turned back to face the Convictionites.

“Are you done groping your girlfriend, or would you like a few more minutes?” Ben said, smirking.

A few
more
minutes? Exactly how long had they been making out in front of everyone?

“Forgive me,” Logan said coolly. “I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, yes. I understand, Slayer.” Ben’s gaze rolled up her body. “I really do.”

Yuck. Alex resisted the urge to tell the obsessive-compulsive magic hater that he wasn’t her type. And that one of his shirt sleeves was shorter than the other.

“We have a business proposition for you,” Logan said quickly, as though he knew her mouth was about to overrule her mind.

“What kind of business proposition?” Ben asked.

“The kind where we give you something you’ve been looking for.”

“You have the last—”

“Let’s discuss this somewhere private,” Logan cut in, looking pointedly at the nearby gathering of fairies and fairy admirers.

“Right.” Ben turned to his crew. “Let’s go.”

Alex and Logan followed the Convictionites around the side of the opera house, to a rust-colored building. As they followed them through the front door of their hideout, she spotted a black wall plaque with a white silhouette on it. Beneath the silhouette, the words ‘
White Knight’ were written in a rigid, boxy font. Apparently, the security company didn’t have any qualms about selling their systems to both factions in a fight.

She didn’t sense any magic defenses in the building, which wasn’t surprising for a group who hated magic. There were, however, enough technological ones to make her realize that Logan hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said the
Convictionites could teach warlords a thing or two when it came to security. It also made her wonder how the hell the two of them were going to get out of there if things went south. Which they always did. Inevitably.

The
Convictionites slowly peeled away from the group in pairs, stepping into the offshoot rooms along the central
corridor. Many of the rooms held desks with computers on top. One was a kitchen and snack corner. The room across the hall from that contained enough weapons to subdue the district. Maybe there were more somewhere else, being saved for that day they decided to take over the entire city. No, not maybe. There were definitely more. This was a house of hate. When it came to people like these, there were always more weapons. Alex was betting they kept them in the basement. They probably had cages full of guns.

“Your installation is very impressive,” Logan commented, his eyes darting from room to room.

His face was neutral, but his aura told her that he was as worried as she was about how they were going to get out of there. First things first, though. Alex had to find the Orbs. She put out her magic feelers, trying to figure out where the
Convictionites were keeping them.