Magic Kingdom (Dragon Born Alexandria Book 3) (8 page)

“How do you feel about ghosts?” she asked Logan.

“How do I feel about them? That they’re impossible to kill.”

“Then we’d better hope that these ghosts are friendly ones. A few dozen of them are gathering around the new town hall at the city center.” She sighed, sliding her phone back into her jacket. It was just one of those nights.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Center of Hell

ALEX AND LOGAN ran across the wide expanse of Marienplatz, zigzagging between three teams of Monster Cleanup agents. If the city had gone to hell, then this was the center of hell. The square was an uneven mixture of ear-piercing monster screeches and the constant thump of magical explosions. The magic in the air tasted like burnt flesh, something Alex was trying really hard not to think about.

One of the Monster Cleanup teams was battling an elemental bull that had decided to redecorate the city’s main square with earthquakes and avalanches. The ground cracked and split beneath the creature’s hooves. Fire licked the bushes of red flowers around the square’s central column. Of the four statues of armored angels fighting hideous beasts, two had broken off. They lay in shattered pieces on the ground.

Every member of the second team of agents was completely covered in slime, courtesy of the gigantic worm they were fighting. The creature swung its tail, and they ducked. One of the agents rolled away, drawing his sword as he hopped up. His blade cut through the worm’s tail, and a hurricane roar erupted from the creature’s enormous fanged mouth.

“You idiot!” shouted one of the agents over the worm’s roar. They were all wearing full-body armor, including helmets, so Alex couldn’t see who it was. “You have to burn it, not chop it.”

The severed piece of tail was wiggling, the choppy twitches growing faster with every passing second. Magic tore through the square with the crack of splitting fabric, accompanied by a blinding flash of white light. And then there were two giant worms. The agent who’d cut the creature stared up at them in shock and dropped his sword.

Past the two worms, the third Monster Cleanup team was chasing a flock of gargoyles that was flying toward the old town hall. The agents had managed to blow a few pieces off of the stone creatures. One of the gargoyles was flying with half a wing missing. Two of them had only one arm. Even as they ran, the agents never stopped bombarding the aerial beasts with magic. It didn’t slow them down. Nothing short of a missing head would put them down. Beheading was the center stone of monster hunting. It basically killed anything.

Too bad it didn’t work on ghosts.

The otherworldly beings covered the front face of the new town hall like a veil of translucent white gauze. A chorus of whispering voices floated up from the river of ghostly souls. Alex and Logan stopped in front of the building. Tall, mighty, and massive, its spire columns and enormous clock tower made it even more of a Gothic castle than the house they were renting. A few ghosts skimmed the surface of the building, weaving in and out of flower-topped balconies and hopping up the stone levels of the clock tower to dance between the bells and life-sized figures. A familiar residual magic singed the air.

“The thief is here.” Alex breathed in the repulsive magic. “Or at least was here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Unless there is more than one person with the same weird magic I’d never felt before this night, then our cloaked thief has struck again.”

Logan’s eyes surveyed the building with professional detachment. “You know what this means,” he said. “The melted building and this are related.”

“Yes. Thank you, Captain Obvious.” She winked at him.

He pointed at a pair of doors. They’d been blasted—or torn—off their hinges. Alex followed the trail of burning magic. It led her up a few stairs to a side door that had melted into a lumpy pile of solidified goo. She stepped over the goo to enter the building.

Inside, black scorch marks streaked the interior. A few of the walls looked like hardened rice pudding, but unlike at the previous scene, they were all still standing. Toppled tables and chairs covered the stone floor.

“Someone put up resistance,” Logan said.

“Guards?”

“Perhaps.” He brushed his hand across the curdled surface of the wall. “The thief used his green fire. It must take a sustained burst to melt the concrete. These walls are only scarred, not melted.” He turned in place, scanning the room.

“Looking for something?”

“Yes.” He walked up to a desk, reached under it, and pulled out a safe box. “This.”

Alex looked at the big metal box, which he was holding one-handed. Her gaze slid up the box to the hard, coiled muscle of his arm.

“Like what you see, darling?” A smug smirk tugged at his lower lip.

“Yeah, that’s a quality safe.”

His eyes hardened and he set the safe down on the table.

“And someone burned a hole through it.” She sniffed the safe box. Nothing. No magic. Damn. “Our thief, I bet.” She looked across the room, but there weren’t any piles of burning ashes or warped metal on the floor. “He didn’t try to hide what he’d stolen by destroying all the other valuables here.”

“Because he didn’t have time.” Logan pointed at a hand protruding from a stack of toppled chairs. “I believe he’s from the security team. Or one member of it anyway. He’s dead. There are four more of them buried in all of that.” He indicated the piles of toppled, broken furniture. “Also dead.”

“How do you know?”

“I can smell them,” he replied. “But not hear their hearts beating.”

“You’re sure?” She looked at the piles, thinking about the people buried beneath. “What if they’re buried under so much stuff that their heartbeats are muffled and—”

“Alex.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sure.”

“Ok.” She rubbed her hand across her wet eyes as Logan pretended not to notice. All those lives—wasted. And all for nothing.

No, not for nothing. She wouldn’t let it be for nothing. She would catch the bastard who’d done this. But to do that, she had to figure out what he’d stolen—and what else he would try to steal. Then the next time he broke into a building, she’d be waiting for him.

“Alex.”

Logan’s voice drew her out of her own head. “Yes?”

“We have company.”

She turned toward the door. Ghosts were streaming through the fractured opening. The otherworldly stream split off into individual ghosts, who took up position all around Alex and Logan. Their skin shimmered with ethereal light. Their eyes glowed, empty and unseeing. They were as purposeless as their magic.

“They’re being controlled,” she said. “They have no will of their own.”

“Can you break the magic binding them?”

“I guess we’re about to see.”

Two ghosts shot forward, one from either side of her. She ducked, hammering them with a magic-shattering blow as they passed overhead. The ghosts didn’t even notice. They came around for another pass.

“Could someone be controlling them with the Otherworldly Orb?” Logan asked.

“I don’t think so.” She punched at the ghosts, but her fist went right through them. “If they were, there would be at least a hint of the Orb in their magic, if not more. I don’t feel the Orb at all. I feel…something strange. A dark magic is binding them.”

“Have you ever fought a non-corporeal being?” Logan asked, slashing with his knife. It passed through the ghosts, just like Alex’s fists had.

“No.”

Two of the ghosts spun around and knocked into Alex, barreling her over. “They sure don’t hit like non-corporeal beings.”
 
She jumped to her feet and aimed a kick at a passing ghost. Her foot passed through him, but when he countered her attack, he landed a blow. Somehow. Inexplicably.

“These guys are really starting to annoy me. It’s impossible to hit them.”

“It’s not impossible. It’s just really difficult.”

A ghost snapped a kick at Logan. He let it hit his side, then his hand darted out, grabbing hold of the retreating foot. He cracked the ghost’s ankle in one swift movement. The otherworldly being squealed.

“See? Not impossible,” he told Alex as the ghost disappeared.

“How did you do that?”

“One of my friends is a ghost. He taught me how to fight them.”

Two ghosts shot toward Logan, trying to punch him from both sides. He caught their hands and snapped their wrists. They faded out.

“And how do you fight them?” Alex asked.

“You can only hurt them when they’re solid. The flip side is they can only hurt you when they’re solid. Most of the time, they’re only partially present in our realm. They have to phase fully into our realm in order to hit you. You have to let them, then you grab them really quickly, before they phase out again. They are not very resilient. Once you hurt them, they have to return to their realm to heal.”

“Ok, then,” she said, reaching for the ghost shooting toward her.

It knocked her over, then escaped through her hands. She tried again with the next ghost. She shot backward, landing hard on her back.

“This isn’t working,” she said, her breaths strained. Her back wasn’t in much better shape either. “I’m not that fast. Before I can grab them, they’re gone.”

“You might not be that fast, but your magic is,” Logan told her. “Punch it through them.”

Alex peeled herself off the ground. Her muscles felt like mashed potatoes, but she ignored the pain. That was the thing about pain. If you just ignored it for long enough, it went away. Ok, maybe it only got buried under a mountain of stubbornness, but close enough.

She stepped forward. “Hey, ghosts!” she called out. “Come and get me!”

Six of the ghosts broke from the pack. They streaked toward her like a tsunami of white light. Fighting every instinct that she had—instincts that had been beaten into her since an early age—she didn’t dodge. She waited until they were upon her. Only then, only when she was staring into the hollow emptiness of their eyes, did she punch out with her magic.

It tore out of her in a cold, burning wave of glistening liquid ice, smashing against their ranks. The ghosts froze, suspended in the air for a moment, then faded out. In the meantime, Logan had dispatched the others, but letting so many enemies past his defenses had taken their toll on his body. His shirt was torn to shreds. Wet blood pasted what remained of it to his skin.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Me? What about you?”

“I’m fine. I will heal.” He coughed. “Eventually,” he added with a crooked smile.

“Someone sent those ghosts at us. The thief.” She looked across the ruined room. “This special supernatural someone can melt buildings, disappear into thin air, and control ghosts. What the hell can do all of that?”

“This is your area of expertise, not mine. You tell me.”

“It’s a scary someone, that’s who. More than that I don’t know. I’ve never heard of anyone like that. And I certainly have no idea how to defeat him.”

“What are you getting from the magic in this room?” he asked. “Can you get a feel for the thief’s magic?”

“No. That green fire burned all the residual magic from the air. There’s no lingering magic from before we stepped inside the building. The only magic I feel in this room is ours and the ghosts’—and even their magic is fading fast. I can’t even figure out what branch of magic was controlling them. I don’t know whether it’s a person, an artifact, or some other spell. All I do know is it wasn’t the Otherworldly Orb. I’ve felt its magic before, and whatever was controlling those ghosts wasn’t it. I don’t know anything, Logan. I haven’t got a clue of what we’re up against.”

“It’s ok. You don’t have to know everything.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, hugging her to him. “Let’s go talk to Stan and see if he has any ideas about Triple Threat.”

“Ah, you’ve named the thief. How cute.”

“Yeah, well, you know me. I’m a sentimental guy.”

Alex snorted, then glanced at his watch. “Ok, let’s get moving, Mr. Sentimental. If we’re lucky, Violet’s received her evening muffin delivery.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Monsters and Mages

THE MONSTER CLEANUP base was busier than it had been a few hours ago. Agents drenched in blood and odious monster fluids walked in hurried steps toward the locker rooms, obviously eager to get the hell out of here and put this night behind them. Most of them looked like they were on the wrong end of a twelve-hour shift. There was a weary, agitated look about them. Fresh off of a night of horrors, there was no humor in their eyes.

The Disposal teams were noticeable in the crowd. Carrying medical kits, flamethrowers, and oddly proportioned bodybags, they streamed in and out of the hallway that led to their labs. Alex would be paying Stan and the Disposal guys a visit in a moment, but first things first.

“Violet,” she said, hitting the receptionist with her best smile. “Did you by any chance get your evening muffin delivery?”

“Sorry,” Violet replied. “The bakery’s delivery van got held up on account of tonight’s mayhem. It won’t be coming until tomorrow morning.”

Alex sighed.

“But I can offer you another Magic Spike. It’s cherry-flavored.”

Alex took the proffered energy drink bottle. She wanted muffins—preferably chocolate ones—but she needed a magic and energy jolt. With her luck, she’d be heading back out into the field before she could say ‘double chocolate chip’.

“Would you like a Magic Spike too?” Violet asked Logan.

“No,” he said coldly.

The smile wilted from Violet’s lips.

“Don’t mind him,” Alex told her. “He gets grumpy when his off time is interrupted. See you later.” She pulled Logan toward the Disposal hallway. “Did you really have to put on your scary assassin face back there with Violet?”

“That’s my normal face.”

“No, it’s not. You actually smile once in a while. And even make jokes.”

“With you, Alex. But you’re different.”

“How so?”

“Because I love you.”

Her heart skipped. She knew he’d heard it, but she tried to cover it up by smirking at him anyway. “Plus you want to get into my pants.”

In a flash, he had her pressed up against the wall. “Yes.”