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  The councilwoman lived on the top floor of a nondescript glass box in an equally generic neighborhood. Vadim curled his lip as he looked around, taking in both the security setup and the lack of character in the place. A doorman kept out the riffraff and there were cameras in a few strategic locations. The cameras were no problem but he wasn’t good enough at glamour to slip past a person totally unnoticed. He circled around to look for a maintenance door, finding one in the back.

  From there it was a piece of cake to circumvent electronic locks and make his way to the penthouse. He held down the door buzzer, not letting up until he heard her on the other side.

  She answered after almost a minute, still in the black dress but with the heels discarded. Her expression went from annoyed to scared to ice in the space of three seconds. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hello, Red.” Vadim winked, grinning. “I’m here to blackmail you. Invite me in, would you?”

  * * *

  Lizzie attempted to slam the door closed, putting all her weight into it. The stranger stopped her easily with one hand and forced his way inside. She backed up several feet, wondering how the hell he’d gotten past security. He stopped just inside the door after closing it and made no move to come closer.

  He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Just relax. Like I said, I’m only here to blackmail you.”

  She was in no mood to be placated. “Get the hell out of my home! Do you have any idea who I am?”

  “Oh, I know exactly who you are. Better than anybody else.”

  Something in his tone caused a tiny crack in the ice she’d gathered around herself. “I’m calling security.” She reached for the control panel on the foyer wall. The lights that usually indicated it was working were off and she got no response when she pressed the button. She swallowed a lump of unease that was quickly becoming fear, loathe to show him he was affecting her. “What did you do?”

  “Just a basic dampening spell on the electronics, to give us a moment of privacy.” He took a step forward, his face inquisitive. “Can you feel the magic?”

  Her heart thudded loud in her ears. Panic clawed up her throat, trying to scratch its way into a scream. So he was Magic Born. She needed to get him out, fast.

  He said, “For me, it’s like a buzzing deep inside. A low-level hum, like static. Always there. It’s not the same for everyone though. And it’s different when you feel someone else’s magic at work.”

  A vibration, like a faint ringing in the ear, cut through the fear and the layers of ice. Lizzie pushed it away. She didn’t want to feel it again so soon after the light show at the club. Didn’t want to feel it in the presence of this stranger. Cold beckoned, a familiar companion, and she clung to it.

  Lizzie straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “You will leave, now, or you’ll find yourself in more trouble than you can handle.”

  The stranger put his hands in his pockets, his body language loose and relaxed. “I can handle quite a lot of trouble. Question is, can you?” He removed a small object from his pocket.

  “What is that?”

  “This little enchantment is something I’m particularly proud of. Took a lot of work to get it right.” He held it up. “The plastic tube is from a syringe used to draw blood. Had to go through medical waste thrown out by the DMS clinic and perform a special type of revealing spell to make sure it was what I needed. Let me tell you, that was no picnic. But after a few tries I found what I wanted. This particular syringe was used to draw blood from a baby during its initial DNA testing—a baby whose blood was found to have the markers for magic. That was the first step. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to go sit down? Standing in the hall is getting a bit tedious.”

  The nerve... Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “You’re a special kind of stupid if you think I’m letting you any farther into my home.”

  “Ouch.” He winced, chuckling. “That was marvelously bitchy.” He waved the plastic tube in the air. “Okay, so the next step was a bit trickier. I won’t bore you with a lot of technical theory about the inner workings of magic. I’ll just tell you what’s inside the thing. There’s tiny pieces of steel I chipped off various locations and had a jeweler friend fashion into something that didn’t look like trash. Wire from the guts of an electronic device with internet capability. A short length of guitar string. The trickiest thing, though, was the gas for neon. Getting ahold of the right mix of argon and mercury to make this nice electric blue I like, and then getting it in the tube. Yeah, that was the trickiest part. Then I had to create the manifestation part of the spell.”

  Her cell phone was in her purse, which was on the sofa. She weighed the need to call for help versus the potential for escalation if she left the foyer and he followed. Before she could make a decision, the stranger moved to stand between her and the rest of the apartment.

  “A propensity for water would make the guitar string glow and create the sound of it being tuned. Earth would make those little pieces of steel glow and spin. Air would be the wire, of course. It would glow and send out thin blue lines. Fire would light the whole thing up like a neon sign. Of course, combinations are possible. I locked the door with a spell so don’t bother trying to leave. I’m really not here to hurt you, Red. You can relax.”

  Lizzie curled her hand into a fist, nails biting into her palm. The pain sharpened her and helped keep panic at bay. “I don’t understand any of what you’re saying. Why are you telling me this? Why are you even here?”

  “I told you, I’m here to blackmail you.” He shook the plastic tube. “And I’m telling you all about this because I want you to understand some things. Normals think their science created a way to test and quantify us all. Separate us into two classes. Give themselves a nice sense of security. But it’s a false sense of security, isn’t it?” He took a menacing step closer.

  Lizzie backed into the wall before her brain could remind her not to show this man any fear. But fear was all she felt, a sickening feeling of standing on a precipice, waiting to be pushed. “What do you want from me?” she demanded.

  “Many things,” he said. “But first I want you to face the truth. Magic is the truest thing I know. It might hide, it might obfuscate, but it will always ultimately tell the truth. And your truth, Elizabeth Marsden, is that you are Magic Born.”

  He grabbed her, forcing the plastic tube into her hand and closing her fingers over it. Muttering words she couldn’t decipher, he pushed her back against the wall as an electric shock hit her body. The vibration she recognized as magic spread from her hand to the rest of her, traveling through her nervous system and leaving a clanging in its wake. Her senses flattened for a long moment, then the world exploded. Blue light filled the space, blue-white lines spreading in the air in a grid as a gonglike boom reverberated in her ears. Magical sensation whipsawed through her, out of control and painful in its intensity. A keening sound reached her past the overload and she realized she was screaming.

  She came back into herself on the floor on her hands and knees, head hanging down and curtained by her hair. A warm pressure rested lightly on her back, pulsing with comforting energy. His hand. She pushed him away and curled into a crouch. “What did you do to me?” Even she could hear how badly her voice shook.

  “The spell is designed to reveal what sort of magic a person is attuned to, and how strongly. You, my dear, are a nuclear blast in everything but earth. I’ve never seen anything like that.” He sounded awed, and troubled. “Do you know how to use any of this?”

  “Get out.” Her throat felt raw, scraped.

  “Not until you’re steady and we’ve had a chance to talk.”

  “I have nothing to say to you.” She fought back against the tears and the meltdown that was coming. “Get out.”

  The stranger was quiet for a moment, and then he spoke in a low voice. “Then I’ll say my bit and
go. I can prove your DNA test is false. You give me information and other things I need, and no one will ever know the truth about you. If you refuse, you can be my neighbor in FreakTown. It’s up to you. I’ll give you a day or two to think about it, then I’ll be back.”

  Lizzie placed her palms against the wall, walking herself to a standing position with her hands. She brushed away tears and pulled her hair back. “Who are you? I’d like to know who’s blackmailing me.”

  Arrogance written in every line of his face, he smirked and inclined his head once. “Vadim Bazarov, at your service.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Vadim Bazarov.” She lashed out, the smack of her hand on his face ringing like a shot.

  He grunted in surprise and hopefully pain. “You and I are going to get along just fine.” He winked, picked up the enchanted tube from the floor and left.

  The aftershocks rippled through her body for some time. Blue-white lines arced from her fingertips, fizzling into nothing. Lights on the control panel flashed. She didn’t bother to check if it worked. What would be the point of calling for help? There was no help to be had.

  Her muscles seized as a dark burning twisted through her insides. She fisted her hands, pressing her nails deep enough into her palms to leave marks. The pain helped but not enough. Her breath came in uneven gasps. She couldn’t get it under control, just like she couldn’t control the shaking, or the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

  Or the magic that bubbled and popped in her veins.

  Another rush of scattered energy rocked her. She cried out, slamming her fists against the wall. The control panel sparked, its lights frenetic before finally going dark with a hiss. She pushed away from the wall and stumbled into the living room.

  Blue-white lines trailed from her hands. They sought out everything electronic, turning on lights, the vidscreen, other things. Not just electronics, she realized, but everything powered by electricity. The vidscreen flashed through television and music channels, filling the room with a cacophony of light and sound. She fled to the bathroom, not knowing how to make the magic stop.

  That wasn’t entirely true though. Lizzie knew one way to get control of herself.

  She slammed the bathroom door shut and slumped over the sink. Staring in the mirror, she was horrified by what she saw. Her careful makeup was ruined, tears leaving black tracks of mascara down her face. Her lipstick had gotten smeared somehow, the red color widening her mouth into an ugly gash. Sweat and rain had wrecked her hair, normally kept so perfectly in place. Worst of all was the look in her eyes. Disgust. Loathing. Something that went beyond fear and into revulsion and a need to destroy.

  Lizzie ran her hands up and down her bare arms. The thin horizontal scars had long since been repaired by cosmetic surgery at the insistence of her parents, when she was still young enough to be forced. She’d found other methods though. Ways of dealing that didn’t leave scars and bloodstained clothes, didn’t require the bite of a blade.

  The first slap barely registered. Another, and another. Right hand to right cheek, left hand to left cheek, first one side and then the other. The lights flickered. She answered by hitting herself harder, alternating slaps with punches to her arms. The scars might have been long gone but each one had left a ghost, an echo she could feel with each hateful touch.

  A crescendo of white noise filled her ears. She hit harder, and harder still. Again and again, letting the pain carry her through the maelstrom. It held her up, kept her from splintering into a thousand pieces. Tears clouded her reflection until she could barely see herself. Until she was obliterated in her own eyes.

  There it was—the right amount of pain. Of punishment, for letting the magic run wild. For tasting it and wanting more. The pain gave her a level of clarity, a hard edge to land on and cling to as she rebuilt the layers of ice, one by one, until she finally felt calm.

  Chapter Four

  Vadim tried valiantly to pay attention to what Braeden was saying but nothing much registered until the word twins.

  “Wait, start over.” He drank the last of the sweet green liquid in his glass. “I didn’t quite catch all that.”

  Mild disgust twisted the features of the man who ran the zone orphanage. “Am I boring you?”

  “I got a lot on my mind,” Vadim snapped. “You want your problem to be one of them, tell it to me again.”

  The younger man sighed but did as he was told. “A set of twin boys were in-processed yesterday. The next couple on the adoption list would love to have both kids. They agree with me that the children shouldn’t be separated.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Vadim had to work to keep the impatience out of his voice. Dealing with this kind of stuff was part and parcel of the niche he’d carved out for himself in FreakTown. On a day like this, though, he had about a thousand other things he’d rather be doing. Top of the list: another visit with Elizabeth Marsden. He’d told her he’d give her a couple of days but he didn’t want to wait that long.

  “Lewis is the problem.” Braeden spoke the zone administrator’s name like an expletive. “He refuses to waive the waiting period.” Magic Born couples could adopt more than one child but had to wait two years between adoptions and jump through numerous other hoops. “I’ve spoken with the next couple on the list and they’re willing to wait for the next baby to come in. Lewis still won’t budge though.”

  “Bastard wants a payoff.” When did the corrupt piece of shit not want a payoff?

  The councilwoman’s face flashed in Vadim’s mind, stricken, scared. And he’d left her that way, the revealing spell no doubt still working its way through her system. He pushed away guilt and focused on the conversation.

  Braeden leaned over to hand Vadim a folded slip of paper. “This was on my desk this morning.”

  Vadim took the paper, opened it. Suppressed the urge to spit. “Two thousand dollars? Is this a fucking joke?”

  “Either they’ll shut up and go away, or he gets a nice windfall. Lewis wins either way.”

  “And you’re talking to me because...” Though Vadim knew the answer.

  “They don’t have the money. You do.”

  Vadim crumpled the note into a ball and threw it into the small wire wastebasket next to his desk. “I’m a businessman. I don’t do charity work.”

  “You run the FreakTown railroad. Helping people is not foreign to you, no matter what you like people to think.”

  Vadim leveled an index finger at the younger man. “Don’t start.”

  Braeden scooted forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on the desk and fixing Vadim with his intense gaze. “Look, I know it’s a lot.”

  Vadim chuckled at the understatement. “It certainly is.”

  “The babies are twins. Two brothers who deserve to grow up together.”

  “Oh, like they’re not gonna know each other, both growing up in the zone.”

  “They deserve to be raised as the brothers they are.”

  Vadim knew exactly what was happening. He was just powerless to stop it. Leftover guilt from leaving the Marsden woman alone after practically dropping a bomb on her head, that’s what it was. Not that he felt a lot of guilt over that. No. Just a little. And he certainly wasn’t a soft touch when it came to kids. Fuck.

  The older he got, the harder it was to lie to himself.

  “Fine, okay. Would you like me to donate blood while we’re at it? Perhaps a kidney?”

  Braeden sat back, the corners of his mouth quirking. “Thank you, Vadim.”

  “I’ll have the money for you in a few hours. Now get out, keep your gods damn mouth shut and don’t smile at me.”

  “I would never.” Braeden rose, smiling as he turned to leave the office.

  “Hey, wait up.” Vadim picked up a pen, tapping it on the desk. “I heard there was an overdose. A kid.”
/>   Braeden stood in the doorway, one hand curled in a fist and bouncing off the frame. “Late last week. A twelve-year-old girl named Lenore.”

  “You know her dealer’s name?” Twelve was too fucking young to be selling to. He far preferred to stay out of his old business, but perhaps someone could be persuaded to reinstitute some of the old rules. Like not selling to little kids. As disgusted as it made him, he wasn’t sure how far he was willing to go. How far he could go and not kick up a hornet’s nest of trouble. Ever since Tyler had told him, though, he’d been bothered by the thought of a kid so young tripping on possibly bad nightshade.

  “I think she stole it. Lenore had a lot of problems.”

  Vadim didn’t like the bit of relief he felt, but there it was. “Like what?”

  “She wouldn’t talk to me but I heard rumors. She may have had an older boyfriend.” Braeden made a face. “Not that that’s an appropriate word.”

  Vadim dropped the pen. “Who the hell dates a twelve-year-old?”

  “From what I gathered, it was more about trade than dating. And supposedly it was a guard.”

  His stomach tightened in fury. DMS guards and agents had a free pass when it came to exploiting the girls and women in FreakTown. Hell, boys and men too. There was no one to report it to and dealing with it on their own was tricky for the Magic Born. He’d known more than one witch to go to jail because of revenge.

  “You find out anything more concrete, let me know.”

  Braeden nodded. “I’ve had a few people tell me that.” He bumped the doorframe with his fist again. “Look, I gotta go. The kids get restless quick and I’m shorthanded today.” He left.