The Protection of Ren Crown (6 page)

Lights I could nurture.

Olivia was waiting for me in the foyer and a little of the tightness in my chest eased upon seeing her. The wards shivered as we exited the house. I stepped in front of her, but I couldn't sense anything dangerous in the shadows.

Olivia checked her little magical-detection device. “Nothing is out of place.”

I nodded and we headed to my car, parked in the street. Olivia had flat out refused to take the train.

“Even if I come home before 1:00, Liv, that's not the point, you know,” I said, as we got in. I ran my hands along the steering wheel where my brother's hands had rested just four months before. I had been happy as the eternal passenger. But that was no longer my life.

Olivia shrugged as I turned the key. “It's simple. Put together a presentation of why you should have no curfew. Tell her you will text her at midnight when you are out to let her know everything is okay. That will reassure her that you know she is worried about you. And is it any big deal to give in and let her have her comfort by going with the curfew? You can stay out until whenever you want at school. We'll be back there in a week.” Olivia's points were all delivered smoothly, but her eyes were unreadable.

I pulled away from the curb. “Your points are well taken, but it's the principle of the thing. I'm eighteen. I'm an adult now. It's like magic. The clock ticked past twelve and
poof
––adult!”

“You are in the rocky period of a secure, parent-child relationship when the child is becoming an adult,” she said, her calm delivery making my words seem more juvenile.

“Ha. I knew it.” I pointed a finger at her. “Don't think I haven't seen those self-help books you have been trying to hide.”

“I see the use in personal relationships now and am filling my knowledge gap,” she said, primly.

I grinned. It was easy to shed dark thoughts when I focused on a friend—on Olivia, just as I had once done with Christian. The desire to tease her wiped away my lingering obstinacy and I nudged her after shifting into third. “You are filling the gap rather well. You will take over the world more easily with friends.”

She nodded. “Of course I am, and, of course I will.” It was said matter-of-factly, but I could hear the pleased tone, both at the compliment and the physical affection. Eight weeks ago, she would have blasted me for both.

She was right, of course. I just needed to figure out how to handle my mom. To balance the need to do my own thing with the part of me that still wanted to curl up on her lap and have her tell me that everything was going to be all right. I might have made peace with my inability to resurrect Christian, but the hole of his absence remained.

~*~

It was an hour's drive into the city and Olivia was in rare philosophical form the whole way—clarifying points from the books she had been reading, with their message of choices and alternatives, and arguing the authors' merits of how to determine what to do when presented with forks in the road. Listening to her made me smile.

Parking sucked in the city, as it always did, but when Olivia had refused to ride the train—saying there was no way she was getting in something non-magical that she had no way to exit—I had scoped online and found a neighborhood near the club that was known for ‘sometimes’ having available curb spots. It took four patient circuits around the neighborhood, but we finally got lucky. We locked the doors and started walking briskly in the cool December air.

An itchy feeling registered under my cuff almost immediately as we turned the corner out of the residential area. The street shadows jumped and a four-headed creature—with tusks and horns and talons—blinked into being ten feet away. It winked out of existence a half-second later, so quickly that my heart didn't get a chance to fully stutter to a stop.

“That was a flicker.” Olivia's voice was calm, but her arms no longer swung casually at her sides. “The layers thinned in that spot for a moment. It happens sometimes. There are a thousand things that cause flickers. Ordinary people think they are merely daydreams or tricks of the imagination. Keep walking.”

The itchy feeling wouldn't diminish. It was growing stronger. The industrial street around us was packed with parked cars and empty of life.

But we were being watched. I could feel the gaze, and I had neither a weapon nor magic.

“Olivia—”

“We need to join a large group of people immediately. The car's too far to turn back.”

I could hear people laughing, maybe a block away. We picked up speed.

A tall figure stepped out of the shadows between two parked vans. My hand touched Olivia's arm automatically.

The figure sauntered into the light. Dark hair lazily fell around perfectly debauched features. Constantine headed toward us in all of his sexed-up, privileged glory.

“Hey,” I said, sagging in relief. I ran to meet him halfway, giving him a hug. He wrapped long arms around me.

“I didn't think you were going to make it,” I said. “You said you were coming to the house.”

“I was unavoidably detained,” he answered smoothly.

“You missed cake.” I stepped back, beyond relieved that the danger I sensed in the shadows had been Constantine. The irony of that wasn't lost on me.

At Excelsine, his magic was never without a treacherous edge, and I could see that translated to his aura in the non-magic world as well. Fathers here probably made their daughters cross the street when they saw him.

“But the others should be here any minute if you want to come to the club with us?” I said.

I could feel Olivia's eyes boring holes in my back and imagined her mentally penciling down “Talk to roommate” on her pad.

Constantine’s lazy eyes took in Olivia, then dismissed her. “Quaint, but I have to pass. I have little time.”

A butter-soft, dark leather strap vertically hugged his torso, the messenger bag settled against his well-formed backside.

“You didn't need to travel all the way here,” I pointed out. “I'd have seen you in a week or two.”

“And miss the ten minutes I could claim of your birthday, even if you choose to celebrate it in this godforsaken place? Never.” He avoided my friendly pinch. “I was held at the checkpoint. Amusing, but amusements consume time.”

Olivia looked at him sharply, but said nothing.

“Really? What did you bring that caused the hold up?” I eyed his bag, curiosity pulling.

“Eying my assets, Crown?” His expression was lazy and amused. Upon first meeting him I had thought he might be some sort of sex demon. He was completely human, in actuality, but the reality of him wasn't far from my first impression.

“You know me, always ogling fine leather.” It was easy to share in his amusement. “What did you bring?”

The establishment of a firm, friends-only relationship when we'd first started working together had been beyond the right move, and such a relationship made it very easy to get along with Constantine. He was not, and would never be, a
nice
boy, but he was darkly entertaining and brilliant, and a great business partner.

I tried to peek into his bag. He was tall enough that I had the perfect view. When he didn't object, I stuck a finger under the flap, lifted it, and peered inside.

“Something obviously brilliant,” he said, posture slouched and casual, expression lazily expectant as I searched. “A present to equal yours necessitated a challenge.” Our birthdays were six days apart, with his occurring while we'd still been on campus. The gift I had given him had greatly amused him.

He wasn't avoiding my poking. Which meant that anything good was well hidden. I paused for a moment, examining the interior details. There were a dozen interesting pockets lining the sides and an expensive-looking thin sweater puddled in the middle—possibly hiding a dozen more objects beneath.

I focused my gaze on the exterior hardware of the bag and ran my fingers along the large metal button that secured the front. Magic sparked inside of me, battering against my cuff and seeking an outlet it wasn't able to find.

Constantine twisted the bag away.
Bingo!
“Patience, Crown.”

“Coming from the master of patience himself,” I retorted, trying to get a better visual on the button.

“You acknowledge my supremacy. Finally.”

“Ha. As if you—”

“We should get moving, Ren,” Olivia said tightly. She was standing to the side, observing us with the unreadable expression she undertook right before she ripped into the prosecution's argument at school.

Constantine didn't look away from me. “What's the matter, Price? You think you'll find yourself under attack?” His voice was honey smooth.

Unease enveloped the atmosphere around us again.

“Idiocy and reckless disregard aren't traits I desire to possess.” She started walking again, obviously expecting me to follow—which I did. “Your little toys won't work here, Leandred, if we are tagged.”

“How could you know what I have up my sleeves, Price?” Constantine sauntered alongside me until we individually squeezed through a turnstile and into the industrial lot, a shortcut that would take us to the club. He cocked a brow in my direction. “I don't remember sleeping with her. Did I, Crown? I must have been drunk.”

Without thinking, I put my hand on his arm and started to send a zap of magic as punishment. Olivia turned immediately and her hand clamped on my wrist, startling me enough that I stopped channeling the energy.

The three of us stood half-interlocked and unmoving in the empty, concrete space. Laughter from the club's entrance around the corner rang out over our silence.

The reverberation of the magic I had to force back down echoed through my arm. I looked at my new control cuff, which had just tightened even more unpleasantly around my wrist.

Constantine brimmed with intensity and anticipation. His expression was definitely one of encouragement. He
wanted
me to try and zap him.

Olivia's lips pursed. “Ren…” The single word was a warning. “Magic use in the First Layer is continually monitored and since you don't have a container, you would both fail and be fined.”

But Olivia wasn't positive I would fail or she wouldn't be holding on to my arm so tightly.

“Unless you have a device to hinder such things,” Constantine said lazily, though his gaze was the furthest thing from idle. “Or are a mage who can tap into the magic of the Layer system. A very rare type of mage. There was strange talk concerning something that happened specifically during the attack on the Library of Alexandria today.”

My heartbeat spiked.

Olivia kept her gaze focused on me as we maintained our motionless, broken triangle. “Such a mage would not want to be
registered
by the Department, which is exactly what would happen should said mage be caught on the grid,” she said.

They would analyze my magic and my background. I'd be caged or exterminated. To be caught doing magic without the aid of a container in the First Layer would be devastating.

I nodded to her, releasing all intention to channel magic.

Thunder cracked and a green line zipped past my peripheral vision.

The three of us whirled to see a thirty-foot chartreuse dome suddenly encase us. Five men, armed to the teeth, stood just inside the perimeter.

“Hands where we can see them,” one ordered.

Olivia's hand flew to her pocket, only to be ripped away and unnaturally extended a moment later. From the grimace on her face, she was fighting to lower her arm.

“Hands where we can see them, or we start removing limbs. And if you try to escape, the Containment Magic will kill you instantly.” The man’s expression indicated that this would please him immensely.

The Department had finally caught me.

Chapter Three: Danger Re-engaged

The chartreuse containment field leeched swirls of lime into the concrete and back up into the dome above us. There was a poisonous feel to the curves, as if they were streaked with venom.

And yet there was something—familiar, yet alien, comforting, yet enticing—about the magic. Like a beloved childhood stuffed animal that had resided in another person's house for a few years. The dome's magic looked familiar, but didn't
smell
right.

I stepped in front of my friends, hands outstretched. This was my fault. And I would take the full blame.

The man who had spoken moved forward as well. He was of average height, with short brown hair and deep-set brown eyes. His left ear was slightly larger than his right. In fact, all of the features on his left side were just slightly larger than the ones on the right, as if he had been created by an uneven hand.

I had
seen
this man. Earlier today, I had seen him in the library amidst the group lugging the purple boxes. On my way back from grabbing my papers, I had passed them in the hall. Right before the attack.

His unevenly set eyes flashed and focused on the top of my head. His expression faltered, and his gaze dropped to my face. His eyes narrowed as if he were memorizing my features like I had his.

“And who might you be with such an interesting set of shields? Step back with the Leandred and Price spawns. I'll deal with you later.”

His words registered slowly and strangely.
They weren't here for me.

Adrenaline surged and I positioned myself fully in front of Olivia and Constantine. Threat to friends was in an infinitely worse category than a threat to me. My brother had died the last time a strange magic user in the First Layer had asked me to step away.

And if this man had been at the library before the attack, he was likely not from the Department at all.

Magic leaped from my core and blasted upward. I had to get Olivia and Constantine out of the dome, or somehow call magical law enforcement to us. I'd be arrested for using magic, interrogated by the Department, and likely imprisoned in magical Siberia. I accepted those consequences.

I thrust my hands toward the men. Expecting a successful outward blast despite the new cuff, I was unprepared for the violent ricochet of failure. Magic exploded inside of me. I stumbled, vision blurring, my organs battered, bruised, and on fire.