Page 114 of Wrongfully Magicked
I go over everything he’s offering and come to one conclusion. The question isn’t if I want the job, it’s if I want to live.
My mind immediately goes to the guys waiting on the other side of the door, and I don’t have to think about it twice. “What do you need me to do?”
A slow, proud smile crosses my father’s face, and it’s the creepiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Part of me can’t help but wonder if I just sold my soul to the devil.
STRYKER
Much to my surprise, Jackal honors his promise. He leads the guards away, giving us a clear path to escape the underground bunker. Once topside, he orders the guards to the front of the property, leaving us to make our escape.
After we get Charlotte ensconced in the van, I shove myself into the tight space next to Gwen and glare down at the monitors.
The others haven’t returned yet.
Granted, we got back sooner than expected, but I can’t dismiss the sense of foreboding eating away at the back of my mind.
Something is wrong.
Turning away, I grab the closest weapons and begin loading up again. When my foot hits a black case under the computer station, I haul it out and flip the lid open. A dozen magical crystals gleam in the darkness.
Crystals are conduits, something about the stones’ composition allowing them to hold magic. Anyone in possession of one can control the magic stored in the stone. I’ve read about them but never seen one. Few mages sell their crystals. Stronger mages hoard their powers like greedy misers, unwilling to share it with those who would use it against them. Weaker mages offer crystals for a steep price, but their powers are severely limited.
Not that non-mages care.
They’ll pay any cost for even the smallest touch of magic.
From the power radiating off these crystals, I can tell they are no small trinkets. No doubt they are MID issued and cost a small fortune.
Without hesitation, I scoop up a handful and loop them over my head. I don’t know what they do, but I’d rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them.
Darby grabs my arm to stop me, and I level him with a glare. He catches a blood-red crystal before it can settle against my chest and shakes his head. “Not that one.”
He tugs it free, then carefully places it back into its slot before pointing to a bright yellow one instead. “This one.”
I blink at him for a moment, note his little too wide eyes and shaky hands, then give him a nod of thanks. I grab the yellow crystal more cautiously. While I loop it over my head to join the others, I watch Darby lean over and kiss his sister’s forehead before he turns and grabs his own weapons.
When we reach for the door, Gwen huffs in annoyance. “Sure, I’ll watch over your sister while you guys go off on your murdering spree.”
Noticing her sulk, I reluctantly peel off the M4 automatic rifle from my back and hand it to her. “If anyone approaches the van, shoot them.”
Excitement gleams in her wide, dark eyes, and she eagerly snatches it up, then greedily hugs it to her chest. “Yes! Now this is what I’m talking about.”
A fissure of doubt goes through me…until she expertly pulls back the bolt, chambering a shot, then flicks off the safety. With her too sharp teeth and gleeful smile, I’m glad I’m not on the other end of the barrel.
Darby jumps out of the van, and I quickly follow. Before slamming the door shut, he pauses and peers down at his sisterwith worried eyes. Gwen speaks before he has a chance to say anything. “No one will touch her. You have my word. Don’t be fooled. I might be small, but I’m a lethal package.”
The tech wizard gives a solemn nod, then touches his hand to his chest. “Thank you.”
Gwen nods back just as somberly before a bloodthirsty smile crosses her face. “It will be my pleasure.”
The rear door to the van closes almost silently, then we’re moving back over the wall and across the yard. When we round the house, we come face-to-face with four guards. Darby reacts without hesitation, grabbing the yellow crystal from around my neck, snapping the leather cord with a sharp jerk, then tossing it at the beastlings charging us.
The magic hits them in a burst of light, and they slam into the ground in the next instant, none of them bothering to catch themselves before they land. When we step around them, one large man begins to snore, and my eyes widen at the strength of a spell that could knock out four beastlings at the same time.
Before we engage the twenty guards patrolling the front of the house, Darby grabs a blue crystal from me, then snaps it in half. Magic sweeps out in a shimmering wave, knocking out all communications and turning their radios into plastic paperweights.
A few of the mages curse when they sense the magic, and we sprint into action. It takes us close to thirty minutes to get through the rest of the guards and reach the house. Thankfully, the mages are prejudiced dickheads and didn’t hire more than a handful of beastlings. It gave us the edge in the battle when we normally would have been blood smears across the lawn.
By the time the fight is over, we’re panting and barely standing upright. Smattered in blood, battered, and bleeding from various wounds, we cautiously push our way inside the mansion. When we see the last five remaining guards lyingscattered across the foyer, their broken bodies motionless, we stumble to a halt in the doorway and stare stupidly at the massacre.
