Magic Kingdom (Dragon Born Alexandria Book 3) (18 page)

The broken shards and ashes of wooden furniture were strewn across the floor like a field of toothpicks. A pile of tiny red confetti, each piece as smooth as glossy satin, sat in the middle of the room. It must have once been a very lovely sofa—back in the days before it had been blown to smithereens.

The air was stale and heavy. Alex’s lungs burned like dry ash. But there was something else, something beyond the stench of burning stone. The subtle, sweet perfume of Fairy Lily frolicked like butterfly potpourri on the breeze. It could have been the incense the brothel was burning. Fairy Lily lowered inhibitions and made people lose control, much like alcohol. Except the magical plant also spiked people’s magic through the roof. They became drunk on magic, as crazy as a kitty high on catnip.

The green fire had scorched the magic from the air—all except the Fairy Lily. It had all but burned that away too. But Fairy Lily was a stubborn plant. It was not as easily vanquished as other magic. It still clung to the air, its zesty sweetness crusted over with black ash. Alex had never seen anything that could do that to Fairy Lily. On the other hand, she’d never come across anything that could burn straight through concrete either.

“This doesn’t feel right,” she told Logan. Her throat prickled, protesting the grainy debris swirling inside the dust in the air.

They squeezed through the next gap and entered a large chamber at the core of the building. Dead fairies—at least two dozen of them—lay across the glossy cherrywood floor, their silk and chiffon dripping blood. A myriad of cuts covered their bodies. Most of their throats had been slit. They’d also been stabbed in the stomach. The heart. The head.

There were only two fairies left standing. Pale-haired and thin to the point of willowy, neither of them looked a day over eighteen. They were probably even younger. And they were in the middle of a fight to the death.

The fairies’ opponent was masked beneath a large cloak. He was big, a good two heads taller than the young fairies, who wielded light, supple swords. Fast and nimble, this wasn’t their first time in a sword fight, but it might just be their last. The cloaked giant held them off with ease, his movements neither tired nor stiff. He was at least as quick as they were and a hell of a lot stronger. Slowly, surely, he was gaining the upper ground. His opponents were tiring. They wouldn’t last much longer. If Alex didn’t do something now, they would end up as two more dead fairies on the ground.

Alex lifted her hand to blast the thief, but she was too slow. The cloaked fiend plunged his sword through both fairies, then he pulled his blade out of them, kicking them away. They dropped to the floor.

Alex ran at him. The thief scooped his hand across a dresser, snatching up a leather belt with three stones on the front. Even through the scorched air, Alex could feel the magic pulsing from those stones. Orion’s Belt.

The thief turned, his cloak whipping around like a flag in the wind, and then he jumped through an opening in the melted wall. When Alex tried to follow, a wall of magic flared up, blocking her way. She slammed her magic hard against it, trying to shatter it. The wall held. She was winding up for another strike when she saw the two teenage fairies twitching on the floor. They were alive.

Logan hurried over to them. Kneeling down, he asked, “What happened here?”

Alex hit the magic barrier again. Nothing. It didn’t budge an inch. It didn’t even shake. In fact, it didn’t give her any indication that she was hurting it at all.

“It all started with a loud noise,” the male fairy said. “Then the walls began to bend and melt. He…walked through the building, the stream green fire parting the walls in front of him. We tried to stop him, but he cut down everyone in his way.”

Alex pounded her magic against the barrier over and over again. Sweat drenched her hairline. The mother of all migraines was building in her head.

“You work here?” Logan asked the two fairies. He poured drops of healing magic over their wounds.

The female fairy flinched, her face scrunching up in pain. “Yes. We do, my brother and I.”

Alex kept battering that magic barrier. “You’re so young.”

“We’re sixteen,” the male fairy said.

“And we’re guards,” the female fairy said. “Not courtesans.”

Sixteen,
Alex said to Nova.
That’s the same age Sera and I started our new lives as mercenaries after we lost Dad to an assassin.

I wonder what tragedy brought these two to this point,
replied Nova.

“Yes, we were the guards,” the male fairy said, his gaze sliding over the room of bodies. “And we failed them.”

“What are your names?” Alex asked them.

“Samantha.”

“Roman.”

“Well, Samantha and Roman,” Alex said. “You did your best, but the cloaked guy was better. It happens. At least you’re still alive.”

Alex hit the magic barrier again. The room quaked. What few jewelry and ornamental pieces remained on the shelves jingled. Damn, she’d never seen a barrier that could withstand so much.

“That won’t work,” Roman told her. “That
necromancer
, made sure of it.” His voice fizzled out into a low hiss.

“So he is a necromancer?”

“Yes.” Roman sounded like he was admitting to something vile. “We don’t talk about the necromancers, terrible monsters who wield the blackest of magics to control the dead. That belt he stole will boost his power further, allowing him to delve even deeper into the powers of hell.”

“The necromancer has stolen more artifacts,” Logan said.

“The Ornaments of the Dead,” Samantha added in a hushed whisper. Her eyes shifted to her brother. They both looked scared out of their skulls.

“What did you mean when you said the necromancer made sure we wouldn’t escape?” Alex asked Roman “What did he do?”

“He set a spell around the building,” he replied. “People can enter, but no one can get out except for him. It’s an ancient fairy spell, sealed by blood.”

Alex cursed under her breath. “His blood?” she asked the fairies.

“Yes,” said Roman.

She sensed for the necromancer’s magic. She could feel his blood inside the building, binding it shut. Fantastic. She put away her sword and began setting things on fire.

“What are you doing?” Samantha asked.

“I’m burning anything with the necromancer’s blood on it. If his blood is binding the spell, we have to destroy every drop. With the blood gone, the magic will fizzle out and the boundaries of the spell will shatter.”

The fairies squeezed each other’s hands, a hint of hope sparking in their eyes. They must have thought they would all die in there.

Logan came up beside Alex as she circled the room, torching anything that smelled even remotely of necromancer. “You’re certain this will work?” he asked in a lowered voice.

She matched his volume. “Nope.”

“I thought so.”

Alex stole a glance at the two fairies. “But they needed to hear it. They needed hope. They’re scared. And so young.”

She waved her hand, burning off the last of the necromancer’s blood. As her flames licked a wooden jewelry box black, she felt the barrier drop. Ha! For once, something had actually worked as she’d intended. The two fairies’ expressions brightened. Hope blossomed like glowing flowers inside their magic.

It lasted about two seconds.

The death that had hung so heavy in the air all this time swirled, solidifying into globs of dark, pulsing light. The globs spun and spat out a deluge of vile magic all over the dead fairies. Samantha and Roman gasped in horror as the dead rose from the floor.

“Great.” Alex drew her sword. “More zombies.”

The dead fairies turned on her, as though they knew she was the one responsible for destroying the barrier. They closed in on her with uncommon grace. These weren’t zombies. Zombies were empty shells that were devoid of magic. These corpses, however, were not only moving like they were still living; they were bubbling with magic. It was a vile stew of regurgitated magic, but it was magic all the same. Alex felt the strands of magic binding the dead fairies like puppets. The necromancer was controlling the dead.

Alex ducked a blast of Fairy Dust. The black Fairy Dust sure felt alive as it buzzed past her ear, even if it did smell like rotting flowers. As she dodged to the side, another fairy jumped at her, spinning a kick toward her head. Alex ducked. The fairy’s leg crashed through the wall. Dust flew, and the building groaned out in protest. These guys were so much worse than zombies.

“What are they?” she asked Logan.

He launched a swarm of knives at the undead fairies. “I was hoping you knew.”

“Nope.” She slashed through a fairy. “I have no idea.” Another one came, snarling like a wild beast. Alex shot him with a face full of fire. “This isn’t like any magic I have ever seen. Undead fairies who can use magic? That’s worse than the ghosts and exploding zombies.” She gave the fairies a wary look, hoping they wouldn’t explode too.

“They are tough,” Logan agreed, stabbing a fairy in the forehead. “But if you bleed them dry of magic, they don’t have enough to keep going.” He pointed down at the fairy once again lying dead on the floor.

Alex looked at her sword, then muttered a quick apology to the fairies for mutilating them once again. Back-to-back, she and Logan cut down the remaining undead fairies. Faster and faster they came. Panic flooded Alex—and then came that sweet moment when adrenaline finally kicked in, pumping her full of energy. The high of battle.

She slashed and hacked into the undead, energy catapulting into excitement, excitement surging into euphoria. She heard a high-pitched cackle, somewhere far off. Shrill and undeniably evil, it was growing louder. It was coming closer. It echoed in her ears like a war drum.

“Alex,” Logan said. She could hardly hear him.

She closed her mouth, and the evil noise ceased. She froze, watching the blood drip from her blade in slow motion. The world had slowed to this very moment. She clamped her mouth shut. That horrible noise had come from her. She looked down at the undead bodies she’d hacked to pieces. They were really dead now.

“Logan,” she croaked. Her voice sounded horrible.

Blood, death, killing everyone and everything she loved. Flashes of her visions bombarded her, crippling her. Samantha and Roman were backed up against the wall, holding each other as they gaped at her. Terror pulsed in their eyes. They were more afraid of her than they’d been of the necromancer.

“What happened?” Logan asked her.

“I was enjoying it too much.” Her hand shook as she wiped the blood from her blade. “Just like that monster from my visions. It was the future I saw, Logan. My future.”

“That’s not possible.”

“How do you know? We’ve seen a lot of impossible things.”

“It is not your future. I know it.” He set his hands on her shoulders. “Can you hold it together, or should I take you home?”

She pushed it all down. The visions of burning cities, of monsters roaming, of a war between humans and supernaturals with her at the center of it all, riding the warhorse of discord. Her agony as she killed—and worse yet, the high she got from it. She packaged it all up and shoved it down into that secret part of her, that cage that held her darkest memories. She’d deal with it later, sometime when a crazy necromancer wasn’t on the loose.

“I’m fine,” Alex said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Ok.” He didn’t look convinced. Then again, neither was she. “The undead army is dead again. The barrier is down. Do you know which way the necromancer went?”

“No. I can’t feel him. He must have disappeared again.” She kicked a pillow. “We were too late. Again. And now the necromancer’s powers will grow even stronger.” Her phone rang. She slid it out of her pocket. “Hi, Marek. There’s a necromancer on a murdering rampage across the city, stealing artifacts to boost his powers over the dead. Could you ask your mother to put extra security on Starlight? It’s a moissanite ring and the necromancer’s final target. He’s already kicking our asses. Who knows what will happen when he gets the last artifact.”

Silence hissed from the other line.

“Marek?”

“Alex,” he said, his voice as cheerful as a haunted graveyard at midnight. “There’s been an incident at the summit. My mother has gone missing.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Magic Detective

THE MAGIC COUNCIL’S summit was being held in a tall brown brick building draped with ivy. It was owned by one of the Council’s members. A set of wide, majestic stairs led up to the front doors. Over the entrance, a glass channel of windows extended to the roof.

Logan drove into the underground garage. It was bright and modern, its walls shiny with white paint. Rows of roomy parking spots waited for them. Even Kai’s tank could have fit into one of those spots. The garage was pretty full, but Logan managed to find a spot. He slid his car into it, then they got out and headed for the elevators.

“I wonder who would want to abduct Margery Kensington and why,” Alex said.

“When a member of an old magic dynasty is kidnapped, it’s often about ransom.”

“Yeah, I’ve had to rescue a few kidnapped people,” said Alex. “But kidnappers don’t generally take the head of the family. Someone who is so powerful is hard to take and hard to hold. They prefer to abduct someone young or weak.”

Alex stopped in front of the elevator. “Taking Margery Kensington was crazy,” she said, pressing the button. Its border turned bright blue. “She’s a super powerful first tier telekinetic, and as soon as she gets the chance, she’ll rain down hell on her captors.”

“Unless they put her in an iron cell.”

Iron bounced magic like a house of mirrors. When iron was near, you had to invert your magic if you didn’t want to get sick to your stomach. The problem was once you inverted your magic, you couldn’t cast any spells until you flipped it back.

The elevator arrived. They stepped inside the cabin of dark glass, and Logan pressed the button for the lobby.

“Margery Kensington might even get free of an iron prison,” Alex said as the elevator shot up. “She’s too stubborn to let a splitting migraine stop her from hitting them with everything she’s got.”