Page 6 of Wrongfully Magicked
We all look like absolute shit after being on the road for so long, losing so much weight that our ribs are showing, the lot of us resembling hungry wolves. Well, except Darby—not even astrand of his honey blond hair is out of place. His ever present tablet is in his hands as he scours the servers for what triggered the alarms, a blue tinge from the computer screen reflecting against his pale face.
He is a literal tech wizard, one of the few people who can manipulate electricity with just a touch. When he works, it’s like he can communicate with electronics—it wouldn’t surprise me if he actually could. When he stills, much like a hound on the hunt, I know he found something.
“What do you have?” He tilts the screen so we’re looking down the hallway of death row—a place where criminals are taken to be interrogated and agents get answers by any means necessary.
A second later, the door to the far room is blasted halfway down the hall, and Agent Scotts crashes to the ground, nearly flipping ass over teakettle before landing sprawled across the floor. Rocks and debris pelt the narrow space, and I swear I can actually see the rippling blast move through the hallway, the magic being absorbed by the walls as it goes.
Most of the magic anyway.
The flames are resisting the spells designed to absorb it.
The screen wobbles when the magic hits it, twisting the camera loose from its anchor, then it crashes to the ground. The image flips to the side, providing a perfect sideways view of a woman standing in the middle of the chaos with flames eagerly swirling around her, prepared to do her bidding like an eager puppy. Heat ripples in the air, then the camera goes fuzzy, and the image turns black.
We’re silent as we stare at the blank screen, the image of the girl imprinted on my brain. Something about her captures my attention, a tiny spark of interest that is impossible to crush. It’s not just the wildness that clings to her or her stark beauty—shecalls to something in my soul, something that demands I protect her.
As stupid as it sounds, she makes my heart come alive, like it’s beating for the first time. Yearning pitches my stomach sideways, like demonic bats have taken flight, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to live without seeing her again.
Every instinct says she’s dangerous, and not because of her abilities.
And despite my better judgment, I’m completely fascinated.
I want to touch her.
Breathe in her scent.
Cassius is frozen, as if his basilisk has taken hold of him, and I wonder if his beast feels the same longing. Darby rewinds the video without even touching the screen, then the image pauses on the girl. He zooms in on her small form, but the image pixelates no matter what he does, like he is desperate to catch sight of her again and study every minute detail of her. Even Soren stopped gnawing on the bone in his hand to lean closer to the screen, inhaling like he’s trying to catch her scent and scowling when it doesn’t work.
I’m not even aware I’m moving as I turn and sprint toward the stairs. We have to get to her before anyone else, or I fear she will disappear forever. “Death row. Now.”
No one hesitates to follow as I shove out of the barracks, the guys so close that I can feel their breath on the back of my neck. My spine is rigid as we descend into the bowels of the building.
A second later, the sirens cut off, and I cast a look at Darby. There is a blue glow to his fingers as he runs them along the wall while he accesses the electronics.
The last thing we want is to have more soldiers on our asses.
I wouldn’t put it past any of them to shoot us with friendly fire.
Each of us were once occupants of the underground playground, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. The thought of the girl being held prisoner, alone and at MID’s mercy, is abhorrent and chills my blood. While the agency might advocate for peace, it’s peace under their terms.
If they sink their claws into her, she’ll become tainted and tarnished.
Much like us.
I slam my hand over the sensor, then shove my shoulder against the door the instant it turns green. I’m all but sprinting down the hallway in my rush to get to her before anyone else can claim control.
I dodge around Agent Scotts as he stumbles toward the elevator. Cassius isn’t so polite—he shoulder checks the asshole, slamming him into the wall so hard that the agent slumps to the floor unconscious.
None of the other guys even pause in their stride.
I leap over the fallen door, ignoring the way the thick metal is still smoldering. It’s harder not to notice the soot on the walls where the fire kissed the cinder blocks, or the way some of the spells appear to have been carved out of the heavy stone.
When Darby slows to study the markings, Soren grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him along. As we near the isolation cell, a hissing rattle comes from Cassius, his gaze narrowing on the two guards aiming their rifles at the girl. When his green eyes splinter to yellow, I turn away, not willing to risk being caught by a pissed off basilisk’s stare.
While my species has some resistance to his abilities, now is not the time to literally freeze. Neither of us breaks stride as we enter the room. I grab the guard on the right, yanking on the gun just as he presses the trigger, and the bullet harmlessly hits the ceiling instead. As we fight for possession, I gather my shadowsand throw them out. The inky smoke invades his eyes, nose, and mouth until they’re spilling down his throat and filling his lungs.
Soren doesn’t wait for the guy to go down, just swings his ham-like fist, and the guy drops. Cassius doesn’t need any help. With just a touch of his hand against the second guy’s neck, the soldier drops as venom bleeds into his bloodstream.
We’re breathing hard by the time we turn toward the woman. She’s even more beautiful in person, and I’m completely captivated, unable to take my eyes off her petite form for fear that she will disappear like a figment of my imagination.
