March 2011.
I exited the building onto the roof thirteen minutes after I’d entered via the ground floor. In that time, I had disabled all magical and mundane security, eliminated any resistance, and retrieved the package on the fifteenth floor. Now I was arriving at the extraction point, two minutes ahead of schedule.
A transport helicopter blew past, circling the building. The sound of its blades was magically dampened, but the obfuscation spell coating its black hull was doing a terrible job of obscuring it from sight. And it wasn’t going to hold in broad daylight for much longer.
Nul5 and Tek5 darted ahead. The nullifier and telekinetic systematically swept the rooftop, visually checking that the area was clear of adversaries. I could sense that it was, but relying solely on magical senses was negligent. And we were anything but inept. The black armor they wore was stark against the landscape of pale gray, blue, and white buildings that occupied the downtown core of Los Angeles. It was the same armor I wore, magically fortified and flexible, but neither of them carried the twin blades sheathed between my shoulder blades.
The sky was hazy, the temperature typical for early spring. At least that was what had been highlighted as need-to-know on the mission brief. Some spells were affected by extreme changes in temperature or an excessive amount of sunlight.
Bristling with magic, the remainder of the extraction team flanked me, ready to protect the package at all costs. After more than two years together, we had little or no need for comms, magical or mundane. We would often move in silence, instinctively working together without the need for verbal orders. When orders were necessary, I had the final say. But I usually deferred to the commanding officer, Mark Calhoun.
We cleared the egress, hunkering down to the side of the upper stairwell to wait for a direct path to the pickup.
Jackson peeled away from the group, stepping back to the steel exterior door. She pulled a roll of red tape from the zippered pocket on her upper left thigh. Starting at the bottom right corner, she ran the tape up and then across the edges of the door, revealing a series of inked runes. Adhering the tape to the steel and concrete, she activated a barrier spell with a bluntly uttered command.
Energy flashed through the inked runes, sealing the door behind us. Sorcerer magic. Becca Jackson, aka X3, was the team’s demolitions expert, but her magic worked both ways — securing or shattering as needed.
Sunlight cut through the permanent haze that hung over the city, momentarily blinding me as it reflected off something to the west. I angled my head, clearing my sight line but sensing nothing magically amiss. Though securing the extraction point wasn’t my task. It was exceedingly unlikely that an adversary could have gotten any threat — magical or otherwise — past Cla5 or Tel5. And the clairvoyant and the telepath were monitoring the mission from the roof of a neighboring building.
The helicopter circled to set down. I reached back for the package, ready to run with him. He’d been tortured by magical means, but had made it most of the way up the stairs on his own two feet, supported between Piper and Hannigan. As a werewolf, Sasha Piper, aka X5, was the enforcer for the team — stronger, faster, and more brutal than everyone but me. The sorcerer Tom Hannigan, aka X4, was a shield specialist.
The team huddling around me were all weapon wielders, but I preferred to keep my hands free. I was more effective in close contact situations. So in corridors and stairwells, I’d lead with Nul5, who would nullify any offensive spells. But in an open area, such as the rooftop, the team would take the lead.
The package shifted closer to me. Cool fingers sought out and found the naked skin between my glove and sleeve, wrapping around my wrist. I glanced down. His own skin was medium brown, fingernails manicured into a smooth shine. A prickle of energy shifted between us — my empathy power, bringing his heightened emotions with it. I felt his lingering fear, coupled with relief. Pain and weariness. He’d been lashed to a chair, barely conscious when I’d found him.
I had drained two of his shapeshifter captors myself, taking the first before the other had even known I was in the room. The second fell while she was still staring at her partner in morbid terror as I’d incapacitated him. Or perhaps it had been specifically me who’d terrified her. Which was ironic, since she was the one who could transform into a six-and-a-half-foot-tall, razor-clawed, half-human/half-beast warrior form capable of rending someone limb from limb with minimal exertion.
In an effort to revive the sorcerer I’d been tasked to rescue, I had channeled the stolen energy from the shapeshifters into him. It wasn’t possible for a nonshifter to transform, of course. That ability was rooted in shifter DNA, in their blood. But the stolen energy was enough to get the package on his feet.
A fierce satisfaction flooded through me. It wasn’t my own emotion, though.
It was the sorcerer’s.
Touching me had been deliberate. And risky, since he’d witnessed what I could do with skin-to-skin contact. Twice.
My latent empathy picked up a smugness in his satisfaction. A possessiveness.
He knew me.
I met his dark-eyed gaze. The wind picked up from the helicopter landing on the roof, lifting the sorcerer’s dark-brown hair from his high forehead. It was silvered at the temples. Strong, straight nose. Narrow chin. The fine lines around his dark, defiant eyes had been exacerbated by dehydration and sleep deprivation.
I didn’t recognize him.
He twisted his lips into a proud sneer. His accent was lilting and precise. “You are as magnificent as I always intended you to be, amplifier.”
Shock slammed through me. My own emotion this time, triggered by a burst of adrenaline. I twisted my wrist in his grasp, breaking his hold. Even if he hadn’t been magically drained, he couldn’t have held me. Not with physical force.
Few people could hold me, even with my magic at normal levels. And despite what I’d shared with the sorcerer, the act of draining two shapeshifters of their magic had let me momentarily harness their innate strength on top of my own permanently stolen power. Power that amplifiers didn’t simply inherit. At least not other amplifiers, even as rare as they might be among those who possessed magic. The Adept.
I wasn’t just an amplifier, though. I’d been genetically constructed. I was the result of over a century of magical and scientific experiments. And over the past twenty-one years, I’d been forced to siphon magic from others. Forced to claim strength, heightened healing, and other abilities for my own — and often killing those I plundered in the process.
The empathy I’d inadvertently stolen from my birth mother — my first victim — never allowed me to become fully numb to the process.
I focused on the present situation. The sorcerer knew me.
He claimed responsibility for me.
So he was one of the Collective.
I’d been sent to rescue a nameless asset, though obviously one of high value. And I had wound up retrieving one of the architects of my conception — the Collective who had begot the Five.
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the warmth of the day, and everything to do with the disconcertion of meeting —
Incoming! Tel5 screamed through the telepathic connection that bound the core team together.
A deafening roar accompanied by a bright wash of light — some sort of magical, mental backlash — assaulted all my senses, sending me face first toward the concrete roof. Tel5’s near-constant presence in my mind was wiped away, leaving me mentally shaken in a way I’d never felt before.
“Calhoun!” I barked. I managed to hold myself upright, but just barely. “Do you have comms?”
Mark Calhoun, situated to my left and slightly ahead, flicked his hazel eyes my way briefly, shaking his head sharply. The commanding officer’s automatic weapon remained raised and ready, scanning the rooftop. “We’ve been cut off,” he said, referring to the electronic comms he and most other members of the team carried. None of them were mentally linked and bound to the telepath as Nul5, Tek5, and I were through our blood tattoos.
Like the weapons the others carried, Calhoun’s was modified to shoot magically imbued silver rounds. The extraction team had been well briefed about what and who we’d be facing. We had armed ourselves accordingly. Unfortunately, there was a new adversary on the field. An Adept who was capable of knocking out magical and electronic communication with equal ease. Or perhaps more than one Adept.
The exterior door blew open, taking Jackson with it and nearly decapitating the members of the extraction team on my right.
Shapeshifters in warrior form swarmed the roof. Six-and-a-half-foot-tall half-human/half-beasts with three-inch-long claws and deadly sharp teeth. Physically stronger and faster than over two-thirds of my team, and with an innate resistance to magical assault. Thankfully, the specialty rounds we were carrying would even the odds.
Flynn and Hannigan raised their weapons, taking the first three shifters down with headshots.
I grabbed the package, heaving him across my shoulders, and ran toward the helicopter. Leaving Jackson to fend for herself, the core of the extraction team moved with me, systematically taking down any targets that attempted to impede our progress.
Sasha Piper was ripped away into a swarm of claws and teeth on my right. Even magically muffled, the gunfire was compromising my hearing. But I didn’t need to be able to hear to reach my objective.
As I moved, I felt the magic of the sorcerer across my back collecting, coalescing as he readied some massive spell with the last vestiges of his power.
Tek5 stood with her back to the open side of the helicopter, its rotor blades whirling overhead. She flung her hands out, stretching toward a rooftop ventilation unit to my left. Her dark-brown skin glistened, glints of her telekinesis seen in the sheen of sweat that slicked her face from having stood in the sun for too long.
Nul5 was down, sprawled at the telekinetic’s feet, but shaking his head. The psychic blast had apparently hit the nullifier much harder than it had me or Tek5.
That was unexpected.
The ventilation unit ripped free from its bolted base, metal twisting, denting. With a flick of her hands, Tek5 launched the unit across my path, slamming it into and clearing any combatants that had gotten ahead of my charge.
With the first wave knocked off the field, the shapeshifters tearing at the edges of the extraction team changed tactics. Moving as if they were also telepathically linked, they swarmed to intercept Tek5 and the helicopter. They instinctively perceived her to be the biggest threat.
And they weren’t wrong.
They were simply ignorant, placing themselves between me and my goal. It was always foolish to get between me and an objective.
I ripped my left glove off with my teeth, reaching over my shoulder to press my hand to the sorcerer’s face. He wrapped both of his hands around mine, giving me permission just by touching me.
Just by knowing what I could do.
That thought, that development, would have to wait to be explored until I had the package safely on the helicopter and my team back at base.
Flynn fell, leaving an opening at my left flank that Calhoun immediately filled. The commanding officer’s shift of position opened me up to a frontal attack. But whatever I faced directly would always go down, so guarding my rear was the priority.
I took the sorcerer’s magic. I took the spell he murmured against my ear. I harnessed the power he’d called forth, conducting it as it willed. I thrust my free hand forward. A spiral of darkly tinted energy flowed down my arm.
“Your left!” I screamed. Then I pumped my own power into the sorcerer’s casting to double it … to triple it in strength.
Ahead, Tek5 and Nul5 dropped to the concrete, each rolling to their left.
I released the spell. A spell I had no actual ability to call, command, or control. Dark energy streamed from my splayed fingers, hitting the five nearest shapeshifters. They dropped, writhing and howling in pain.
Calhoun and Hannigan eliminated the last two shifters between the helicopter and our charge. But there were still a half-dozen or more behind us. Shifter magic was difficult to distinguish when they were grouped together, and I couldn’t take my focus off my objective to glance back.
Nul5 darted around the helicopter, wrenching open the pilot’s door and yanking him out of his seat. A prudent decision. We’d been telepathically cut off from Tel5 and Cla5, as well as from the comms. That was a feat I would have declared impossible — if I ever entertained the notion of impossibilities. Which I didn’t.
There was no way of knowing who was loyal, except for the Five. And two of us were already unaccounted for. Not knowing what had happened to Cla5 and Tel5 meant that everything and everyone but the package was expendable.
But that had always been the case.
It would always be the case.
The Five were an arm, a weapon, of the Collective. We went where we were ordered, did what we were told to do. And the team of specialists backing us was even more expendable than we were.
The pilot rolled to his feet, palming a weapon and firing at the nearest shifter as he ran toward us. Also a prudent move. Even if he wasn’t a regular team member, there was strength in numbers. And the extraction team was the second-largest grouping on the roof.
Tek5 appeared out of nowhere, perched suddenly on the edge of the helicopter’s side door. She had triggered her short-range teleportation ability to move into place swiftly. She kept her gaze glued to me, ready to grab the package.
The space between us was clear of adversaries.
To my immediate right and without any warning, Hannigan turned his automatic weapon on me.
Tom Hannigan. Shield specialist. He’d been with us for two years.
Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t fast enough to both aim and pull the trigger. Not even at point-blank range.
Still running, still carrying the sorcerer, I grabbed the weapon, smashing it back into Hannigan’s face and dropping him. The harsh double bark of a weapon behind me informed me that Calhoun had finished off the would-be traitor without even pausing.
Steps away from Tek5, I shifted the sorcerer from across my shoulders. The telekinetic grabbed his arm, hauling him up into the helicopter.
I followed, getting the sorcerer settled in a seat and belting him in as quickly as I could without hurting him.
Calhoun and the pilot stayed on the roof, guarding our backs.
“Took you long enough, Socks,” Nul5 shouted from the pilot’s seat. His hands were flying over the controls, double-checking everything. A sensible precaution, since some sort of betrayal was apparently in the process of unfolding.
Tek5 laughed wickedly, flush with energy and magic as she tugged on a headset.
I ignored them both.
The sorcerer’s fingers ghosted my cheek.
I met his dark-eyed gaze.
Tek5 caught the exchange. A deep frown instantly replaced her former playfulness.
The sorcerer held a headset in his other hand, having already put on another pair. I took it from him and put it on.
“Socks?” The sorcerer’s tone was weary but amused, even through the headset speakers. He touched my face again. “Is that your name, amplifier? I’m Kader Azar. I would have you know me.”
“I have no name, Sorcerer Azar. I am simply a designation. Amp5. As you well know.”
He dropped his hand, but not before I’d felt a spark of his anger.
Calhoun shouted something outside the copter, but his words were obscured by the headset and the steady thump of the blades overhead. I twisted around to take in the scene on the roof.
The shapeshifters had fallen back, carrying their wounded and swarming the exit.
It wasn’t a strategic retreat.
A dark-scaled, double-horned, red-eyed demon was in the process of clawing its way over the edge of the roof. I had never seen such a massive creature before, not called forth from our or any other dimension. And the Five had confronted many demons, both in training and on mission. Just its head, neck, and shoulders were the size of a compact car.
Keeping my gaze on the demon, I double-checked the harness holding the sorcerer, Azar, in his seat. Then I sought out and quickly located the fallen members of my team. One was sprawled out in the open, dead — Hannigan, X4. One was running for the helicopter, exposed — Flynn, X2. Jackson, X3, had managed to make it across the roof on her own, and was now grouped with Calhoun and the pilot.
One of them was hunkered down behind the twisted ventilation unit that Tek5 had tossed across the roof, vulnerable. Sasha Piper, X5.
I yanked off the headset, moving for the side door.
Tek5 grabbed my arm, screaming, “We’re going!”
“Yes,” I said. “You are.”
“You’re coming with us! The package is all that matters.”
“Find out what’s going on with Cla5 and Tel5, would you?” I didn’t like being cut off from the telepath and clairvoyant. Something had happened — something severe enough that Tel5 hadn’t reestablished contact yet. And the telepath had been backed by a clairvoyant, who should have seen whatever hit them at least a few moments before it actually happened.
But I had to focus on the situation immediately in front of me first. My extraction team couldn’t stand against what I was assuming was some sort of greater demon. Though using that Christian classification as a reference wasn’t terribly accurate, it was a convenient shortcut. Demons were pulled or summoned into the earth’s dimension. They didn’t come from hell, at least according to the years of study we had all dedicated to them. The Collective limited our access to information in many ways, though, so what I knew about demons might have been only what they wanted me to know.
But one of the facts that had always been made clear to me was that I’d been created and honed — even separate from the Five — to stand against the kind of creature making its way onto the roof.
Disbelief flitted over Tek5’s face. She tightened her grip on me, snarling over her shoulder to Nul5 in the pilot’s seat. “Go! Go!”
The helicopter lifted. I twisted my arm from Tek5’s firm grasp, jumping for the open door.
“Socks!” Nul5 shouted behind me.
I dropped to the roof, rolling to quickly gain my feet. Calhoun, Flynn, Jackson, and the pilot instantly flanked me. A raw wound was slashed across Jackson’s forehead and cheek, likely from the breaching of the exterior door. Flynn’s right arm was hanging limp. But their magical armor had taken the brunt of the shapeshifters’ assault. Calhoun and the pilot appeared unharmed.
Across the roof, Sasha Piper had extracted herself from the shapeshifters but was now trapped behind the huge vent that Tek5 had flung across the roof. The demon was between her and the exit.
Three sorcerers, including two weapons specialists and a demolitions expert. The pilot, who was a witch by the tenor of his magic, but likely also a technician. Plus me. And not one of us was prepped to face a demon like the creature that had just found its footing and was straightening up to a full height of easily six meters.
Behind us, the helicopter began to circle overhead. I ignored it, but it drew the demon’s attention.
Following my lead without any need for direction, what was left of my team darted forward with me. I paused by X4, kneeling beside him. He was dead. Two efficient shots to the side of his head. I took his gun and extra ammo, glancing over at Calhoun for the briefest of moments.
Hannigan’s betrayal was unexpected. Unprecedented. So who else had he been working for? I might not have been able to pick up emotions without direct skin contact, but Tel5 should have been able to root out even a hint of betrayal with a stray thought.
I passed my hands over the body, quickly emptying its multitude of pockets. I collected a pile of spelled coins and rune-marked stones, passing them to the others to distribute between them. Then I found what I was looking for.
A gold-plated magical artifact. Something that appeared to have once been a brooch. The pin had been removed and a compartment added to the back. I clicked it open, dispelling a sealing spell without effort. The tiny clipping of yellow hair housed within the compartment blew away as the helicopter circled a second time.
Tel5 had yellow hair. Though not much of it. All of the Five were ordered to keep our hair short enough to stay out of our eyes.
A clipping of hair.
Yet another impossibility.
The betrayal ran deeper than Tom Hannigan, then.
Calhoun hissed something over my head. I didn’t catch his words but his pissed tone was obvious, indicating that he’d put together the depth of the disloyalty himself.
I tucked the brooch into my pocket, adding it to the to-do list for after I got what remained of my team off the roof and back to base. I straightened, first checking, then raising and firmly pressing X4’s purloined automatic weapon into my shoulder. I was a fair shot, but it wasn’t in any way a talent. Unfortunately, simply touching the demon wasn’t going to be an effective way to take the creature down. Its magic was incompatible with my own. Incompatible with anything in this dimension.
The magic of whoever had summoned the demon could be thwarted, though. It could be nullified. Unfortunately, the two best means to uncover that summoner’s location were currently out of contact — Cla5 and Tel5. Nul5 would have been a third option, but he was piloting the helicopter, distracting the dimensional interloper tearing up the concrete of the roof with its massively clawed hind feet. That put him nowhere near enough to nullify any magic that might have been tethering the creature.
Figuring out what a greater demon was doing on a rooftop in LA in broad daylight wasn’t a mystery I was going to be able to solve. Primarily because it wasn’t my job to figure such things out. I was an infiltration and extraction specialist. A soldier in a private magical army. I was given objectives. I didn’t solve puzzles. And asking questions wasn’t encouraged by the Collective.
I had already achieved my primary objective, getting the package onto the helicopter. But the demon, and possibly the summoner, had become another obstacle to overcome in order to fully complete the mission.
First, though, I had the rest of my team to collect.
I darted sharply left, crossing directly in front of the demon toward Sasha Piper. The team moved with me.
I couldn’t see any shapeshifters, and they appeared to have taken their fallen as they’d exited the roof. Their loyalty was ensured through pack bonds that gave them an advantage against almost any invading force. Except for the Five.
The Five had been uniquely bred and trained from infancy to overcome anything we faced. Together. But if all else failed, the Collective could and would place me alone against any being, any organization, that threatened them. I was their ultimate weapon. In theory.
Even after twenty-one years, that was all I’d figured out regarding my existence. My purpose. But none of it was pertinent to the current situation.
The helicopter circled a third time, completely breaking protocol. Neither Tek5 nor Nul5 could cast any magic while surrounded by electronics, but their tactic of buzzing the roof was annoying the demon and buying me time.
I hunkered down behind the vent beside Piper, stripping off my remaining glove while eyeing the helicopter.
Azar was standing at the open side door, gazing down at the roof. Watching me, not the demon. Tek5 had allowed the sorcerer to unbelt himself, even as drained as he was after I’d channeled the last licks of his magic. That was ill advised. Though I could understand why the telekinetic would have caved if Azar had started throwing his weight around. None of the Five could say no to a member of the Collective. No matter the demand. Not without repercussions.
“Report,” Calhoun barked.
“Broken leg,” Sasha Piper said. “Ribs possibly fractured. Healing. Slowly.”
I offered her my hands, palms up. She met my gaze grimly. Then she nodded, grasping onto me. I blasted her with my amplification. I didn’t have time to be gentle.
The green of Sasha’s shapeshifter magic flooded her eyes. She grunted, clenching her jaw and straining her neck to suppress a howl of pain. Amplifying someone wasn’t usually a painful process. But forcing someone’s magic to heal them quickly? That hurt.
And my empathy ensured that I felt the reflection of that pain. I could dampen that sense, though I couldn’t suppress it completely. And I could do so even less effectively while using my primary power.
Sasha’s hands went limp in mine. She slumped sideways. I let her go, glancing at the others. “She’ll need a minute.”
They nodded. That wasn’t news to them. Each of them had been subjected to my not-so-gentle touch at some point in the time we had worked together.
Screams drew our attention back to the demon. It had caught a shapeshifter that must have been in hiding, and was currently in the process of playing with him. Or her. I couldn’t distinguish gender from this far away.
“Jesus,” Becca Jackson muttered. “I thought they’d all gotten off the roof.”
Sasha woke with a jerk. For a moment, her face rippled as her wolf — amplified by me — tried to tear through her skin. She got herself under control with a gasp, though she pinned me with her blazing green eyes.
With the exception of power I’d just boosted, I didn’t normally see magic in color.
“We need to move,” Calhoun barked. “While the copter distracts the demon, we make for the exit.” He glanced over at the pilot. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Sherwood, sir. Bill Sherwood.”
“Sherwood, your armor isn’t up for this fight. Hang back. If you can break for the exit, you do so.” Calhoun glanced at the rest of us in turn. “X5 front, Amp5 between me and X3. X2, you take rear.”
The others nodded in unison. Sasha made it to her feet. She and Flynn reorganized and exchanged ammo, guns, and the spells I’d taken off X4, sharing resources. Flynn was moving his arm again, stiffly.
“No,” I said.
“No?” Calhoun echoed, completely thrown.
“We can’t leave a demon to rampage through LA.”
“Not our problem, Amp5.”
I didn’t bother debating with him. Staying low, I shifted to the side of the ruined ventilation unit so I could get eyes on the demon. Quickly analyzing the way it moved, the way it perceived its surroundings.
Looking for vulnerabilities.
Finding none.
Calhoun was watching me. He was tense, getting angry. I didn’t need to touch him to understand what he was feeling. And I was on unstable ground myself. I should have been on the helicopter. I should have been overseeing the process of dropping the package at the rendezvous point, then heading back to base. I should have placed those other objectives over my team.
Instead, I was about to take on a greater demon to get the people who’d fought at my side for years off the roof as safely as possible. The witch psychologist on the Collective’s payroll, a low-level empath herself, would no doubt blame my empathic abilities in her report.
Assuming I made it off the roof alive.
“If I fall, reconnoiter at Tel5 and Cla5’s last known position.” I passed the weapon and ammo I’d taken from Hannigan’s corpse to the pilot, Sherwood. He took it without comment. Jackson stepped closer, murmuring a quick orientation of the weapon to the pilot. The wound across her face had crusted over.
Now that I’d gotten a closer look at the immense creature on the roof, as well as the way the dark energy that coated its black-scaled hide reflected the sunlight, I knew the automatic weapon in my hands was useless. It might even backfire on me. “Calhoun,” I said. “Judging by the feedback that took me and Nul5 down, I assume Cla5 and Tel5 have been compromised as well. I want you to track them down, eliminate any threats. Then return to base.”
“They’re not our concern,” Calhoun said caustically. “You are. You’re the asset here.”
I reached over my head, straightening from my low crouch as I pulled my double-edged blades from the sheaths built into my flexible armor between my shoulder blades. Each sword was eighteen inches of steel with a nonreflective black coating, twenty-five inches overall length. Just the right size and weight for simultaneous wielding — assuming you had trained your whole life to fight with twin blades. As I had.
The magic stored in the three raw diamonds embedded in each hilt ignited at my touch, instantly tying the weapons to me, to my magic. They were an extension of my arms now, sharpened by my own power. At least until I wore through the spells, used them up.
Calhoun, Flynn, and Jackson flanked me. Sasha Piper was behind us, with Sherwood hanging farther back. The commanding officer would back me and follow my orders, even if he disagreed.
We crossed from our hiding spot, darting to the center of the roof, giving us the largest cleared area to work within.
The demon homed in on us, spinning back from the edge of the roof and stretching to its full height. It pinned its blazing red eyes on me, as if I had its summoner’s sigil tattooed on my forehead.
The helicopter circled once more. I raised my blade, pointing it to my far right, directing it away. It swerved in response. I could practically hear the argument taking place between Nul5 and Tek5, even though I suspected it was the sorcerer Azar who’d kept them on site. Watching me and my team. Nul5 and Tek5 would have stuck to protocol.
If I hadn’t actually been carrying him, feeling his magic, I might have concluded that Azar had summoned the demon himself. As some sort of test.
Testing me.
I didn’t like having such ideas. I didn’t like pontificating on the motivations of those who directed every last thing I did. Everything I ate. Everything I wore. Everyone I killed.
Exacerbating that strange uncertainty was the odd and unsettling feeling of not being mind-connected to the other four. Empty in my head while on the field. But I was trained to act solo. With or without my team.
The demon hunkered down, taking the team in — and once more eyeing me specifically. It was easily still four meters tall on all fours. Its skin was thickly scaled, with spurs of bone jutting up along its spine. Its tail almost doubled its body length, tapering to a single thick spike. It flexed the twelve-inch claws of its front feet, three claws per hand. Curling each individual talon as if anticipating striking at us.
As if it was not only sentient, but capable of acting of its own volition.
Except demons were always following orders. Just like me. Tied to this dimension, tied to their summoners, usually through an object of power. Called forth to wreak bloody havoc by their handlers.
Just like me.
Setting up the summoning of such a creature would have taken days of preparation. And a blood sacrifice. Possibly a human sacrifice. A greater demon didn’t simply wander into our dimension uninvited. Doorways had to be opened — usually with dire consequences.
And demons didn’t like being controlled. They consumed their summoners the second their hold slipped.
By the way the shapeshifters had fled, they weren’t the ones controlling the demon on the roof. And now that I was thinking about it, thinking everything through in order to determine my next move, what did a group of rogue shifters want with a member of the Collective in the first place? How would they even get their claws on a sorcerer of power?
“Form a net,” Calhoun barked. “We’ll take its legs —”
“No,” I said. “The demon is mine. Think it through. Look at the magic coating it. How is it standing in the sun?”
“Shielded,” Flynn said.
Piper lifted her face, sniffing the air. “Black magic. Witch.”
“I don’t give a shit who the summoner is,” Calhoun snarled. His magic was coiled tightly around him. Magic that made him the most accurate shot in the group. Magic that eliminated most of the backfires that usually occurred when those of the magical persuasion attempted to use mundane weapons against their own kind. “We’re not retreating without you.”
I shouldn’t have slept with Calhoun the previous night. I shouldn’t have wordlessly crawled into his bed. But away from the compound, I’d felt … buoyant. Up to that point, I’d never had sex with anyone but Nul5, who could obviously nullify my magic. Touching Mark Calhoun didn’t dampen me, though. He didn’t smother my other senses. And he certainly hadn’t minded getting a power boost before a mission.
I had wanted something just for me, just for a moment. Something separate from the Five that I could hold, that I could have for myself.
A choice. A choice made without it being backed by orders or preceded by committee discussion.
For a long while now, every now and then, Mark had looked at me. Across a shared meal or during a recon session. He just looked at me. And in that look, I thought … I felt beautiful, wanted.
He was looking at me that way now, surrounded by team members who deserved our best efforts. Who needed to trust that we would all put our lives on the line for each other. Otherwise, we would cease to function as a unit. And we would all die.
I focused again. I shook my head bluntly. “You are retreating without me. Protocol dictates that the wounded are —”
Calhoun cut me off, switching out his gun for a series of rune-marked stones and a simple slingshot. “You’ve already seen to that, Amp5. I’m commanding officer of this unit. My orders stand.”
Flynn and Jackson separated, facing each other as they dropped their guns across their backs. Each of them snapped their arms up before them, bent at the elbow, readying a dual cast.
“The five of us are more than enough to take down this shit-beast.” Sasha Piper let out a rippling snarl behind me. Then her human visage shifted as her own beast tore through her skin to tower over me, all furred muscle, sharp teeth, and rending claws. Her armor was flexible enough to transition with her.
I clenched my teeth, putting my head down and my blades up. I would let the others do their jobs. Arguing any further was a waste of time. Despite the magical protections and the shielding we all wore during a mission — and even hazarding a guess that the magic coating the demon must have been masking it from general view — any minute now, we were going to pull unwanted attention.
As cloistered as I was kept by the Collective, even I knew that beings of power patrolled this world, enforcing rules of magical conduct. The guardians of the magically Adept. If there hadn’t been such power, there wouldn’t have been any reason for the Collective to form, to unite across magical species, to create the Five. A tool capable of doing all the deeds that would be frowned upon by those who had the power to enforce a basic set of rules on the Adept world.
Such as summoning a greater demon in the middle of LA in broad daylight.
I had a more personal reason for never wanting to meet such a guardian, though. I really didn’t want to face anyone or any force that the Collective feared enough that it inspired them to create me. To create the possibility of what I could do.
So. The demon needed to be vanquished, quickly and efficiently. Before it drew any attention.
Flynn and Jackson snapped their magical net into place. Thick ropes of writhing, dark-blue energy stretched between them. Flanked by Calhoun and Piper in her half-beast form, they rushed the demon. I kept pace a few steps behind them. Sherwood stayed behind me.
In practice, the net would take out the demon’s back legs, forcing it into a lowered position so that I could finish it off. United, the Five wouldn’t have needed the backup of the team or the net at all. But reality rarely unfolded in any way that could be trained for or anticipated.
The demon watched us.
If I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn it looked amused by our antics.
That angered me.
Yes, completely irrational anger.
A demon was always a reflection of sorts of its summoner. And that summoner — a black witch if Sasha’s sense of smell was as accurate as usual — was playing with us.
Flynn and Jackson deployed the net. Dark-blue tendrils of power snapped out, wrapping around the demon’s hind legs.
The creature opened its many-toothed maw in a mockery of a smile, reached down a three-clawed hand, ripped away a section of the netting, and ate it.
“Lay fire!” Calhoun barked.
The team splintered, tossing a series of premade spells in a rapid sequence around the demon. Calhoun deployed his slingshot, hitting the creature dead center between the eyes with three spelled stones in rapid succession.
Fire, edged by sorcerer magic, exploded all around the demon. It reeled back, staggered by Calhoun’s headshots.
Then whatever spell coated its scaled hide, whatever allowed it to appear while the sun still hung high in the sky, absorbed the fire. Consumed it. It struck forward with both arms, bellowing its displeasure at whatever pain we’d caused. Its shriek boiled through my mind, frying my brain.
Flynn and Jackson stumbled under the onslaught. The demon knocked them down the rest of the way, sending them flying past me.
I kept running, ducking behind and around Calhoun as he crouched to shoot another series of spells, landing another round of bull’s-eyes. Sherwood was tight on my heels.
The demon reared back.
Sasha Piper darted forward and across, scoring its exposed belly with claws and fangs.
Sherwood made a break for the stairs.
I leaped onto the lip of the roof, then onto the top of the exterior stairwell, bringing my blades forward as I took the final leap onto the demon’s back.
Its hide was slick with magic. My blades didn’t find purchase. I scrambled for footing, wedging my feet against the sharp spurs of its external spine. Then I started to climb toward its head.
It twisted and reared, trying to knock me off. But Flynn and Jackson had rejoined Calhoun and Sasha, and Sherwood was firing from the shelter of the stairwell. The demon was fighting on two fronts.
I reached its head, anchoring my stance as best I could. Then I skewered the demon with both blades, straight into the spot where its brain should have been if the placement of its eyes was any indication.
The creature stilled.
A shudder ran through it.
Then it reached up, grabbed me, and threw me across the roof.
I regained consciousness with Calhoun, Flynn, and Jackson huddled around me. I blinked, mentally checking that all my limbs were still attached and in working condition. They hurt, but they moved when commanded. My blades were still in my hands, still tied to my magic, as they would be until I chose to release them.
We were covered in a dome of magic. A shield.
A last resort that most certainly wouldn’t hold against the demon for long.
“Sasha?” I asked.
Calhoun’s expression tightened, but he kept his gaze on the demon. “X5 pulled you to safe ground, then covered you until we regrouped.”
In other words, she hadn’t survived protecting me.
I pressed my aching head back against the concrete, fighting a wave of grief that was all my own. X5 — Sasha Piper — had spoken of having a family. She’d talked of going hiking in the mountains near her childhood home, of chocolate-and-bacon-flavored ice cream. She had smuggled a green sundress and a mango into the compound two weeks previously, having found both in a local market on our last mission.
She’d brought them for me.
Not only wasn’t I allowed out of the compound, I certainly wasn’t allowed to wander even when we were working. I wasn’t allowed to wear dresses or eat food not supplied by the Collective. Sasha and I had eaten the forbidden fruit in the communal bathroom off the cafeteria, juice running down our fingers while we stifled our laughter. I hadn’t even chanced trying on the dress, instead stuffing it under my mattress still in its tight roll.
That night, I’d fallen asleep imagining … imagining the life that dress promised. A life filled with colors and choices. Daily decisions.
Pain surged up in my throat. I choked it back down. Then I pulled myself up into a crouch, casting my gaze around for the demon. “Report,” I barked.
“You’ve been down for about six minutes,” Calhoun said, stripping off his gloves. “We’re pinned. The demon is badly hurt, but appears to be healing rapidly. We can’t cut through the magic coating it with the limited firepower we brought with us. Sherwood made it off the roof, but hunkering down in the stairwell and waiting for us to get him out of the building will be his best bet.”
Flynn and Jackson carefully tucked away all their weapons and ammo. Then they also stripped off their gloves.
“We’re implementing final protocol,” Calhoun said. “The Amplifier Protocol.”
I stared at him. Then I glanced down at the bare hands he and the others were holding out to me. I had no idea how Calhoun even knew about the Amplifier Protocol, let alone why he would offer it as a solution.
“Like hell you are,” I snarled.
“Amp5 …” he started, angry. But then he softened his tone. “Socks. You aren’t getting off this roof any other way.”
I looked at each of them in turn, incredulous. “So you’d sacrifice yourselves?”
Flynn shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe it won’t kill us.”
I snapped my teeth shut on an angry retort, on the suggestion that they were anywhere near powerful enough to survive.
I wasn’t thinking about the demon, though.
They would have to survive me. Survive what I could do to them.
The Amplifier Protocol was untested. Entirely theoretical. And for good reason. Even if it didn’t kill those whose power I was drawing from, no one had any idea what kind of long-term effects it might have. Our trainers weren’t certain that even I could survive the massive gathering and casting of magic from multiple sources at once.
“Next suggestion,” I said coolly. “The Amplifier Protocol isn’t an option.”
“It’s the only option.” Calhoun scrubbed a hand over his face, readying some sort of argument.
I thrust my blades forward in response, sending a pulse of my power through the weapons and slicing through the ward shielding us.
The demon was waiting for me on the other side.
Feeling the shield magic collapsing around me, and blinded by my own rage, I attacked. Whirling, striking. Driving the already wounded demon backward, then to the side. The others joined me, casting the final rounds of their magical arsenal, then making a break for the stairwell door. I had cleared the way to that exit with fierce, efficient brutality.
It helped that I’d already badly wounded the demon. But it wasn’t enough.
The demon knocked me down. I rolled under its follow-up strike, seeing Flynn and Jackson make it to the top of the stairs. Flynn was carrying someone. I hoped it wasn’t Calhoun.
Claws scored my side. It was just a glancing blow, but agony raked through my torso and I fell to my knees. I rolled forward, between the demon’s legs. It lifted a hind foot to crush me.
Magic exploded around its head, from the direction of the exit.
Calhoun.
I looked up. Blood obscured my vision. Evidently I’d hit my head at some point, possibly when the demon had thrown me off its back and knocked me out. I’d reopened the wound, and it was bleeding badly.
The demon swiveled toward Calhoun.
I made it to my feet, stupidly scrambling forward. Stupidly forgetting my training, forgetting everything but the feel of Mark’s hands on my skin, drawing pleasure from me …
I shoved Calhoun down into the stairwell, taking the blow intended for him across my back. Screaming, I rolled with the attack, trying to follow Mark through the exit. But the demon stomped down on my legs, breaking both in a fiery agony of pain and pinning me in place.
Then it loomed over me. Leering. Slathering.
It chuckled.
The sound reduced my brain to mush.
The creature flicked its twelve-inch clawed fingers tauntingly in my face, calling my attention back to it. Then it raked those three claws across my stomach.
Again and again.
It punctured my armor.
Over and over.
I screamed. Again and again.
The demon was playing with me.
But there wasn’t anything more I could do, trapped and broken beneath it.
I was truly alone. Possibly for the first time in my life.
The pain faded. I didn’t wish it back.
Instead, I thought about the comforting feeling of falling asleep every night with Tel5 in my head, even though thick concrete walls and layers of magic separated us. I thought about laughing with Cla5 over some silly joke in a battered children’s book. I thought about Nul5 … the warmth of his hands, feeding his magic with my own need for … a release —
The demon hooked its claws under my chin. It was crouched over me as if anticipating how it was going to finish me. Then it would eat me, like it had eaten the magical net. It liked to eat magic. And I was exceedingly magical.
But I was too powerful to be eaten. Filled with my blood, my magic, a demon of this magnitude might break free from its summoner.
And if that happened, many, many innocent people would die.
I gurgled up blood, trying to speak. “Come closer, pretty boy.”
It leaned in, intent on biting my head off, perhaps.
I stabbed upward with my blades with the last of my strength, the last of my magic. As I skewered the demon’s upper palate, its acidic blood spurted all over me. It shrieked, rearing away.
Magic welled up, writhing around the demon. Blood magic, either triggered by the creature’s mortal wound or by the summoner if she was in the vicinity, not wanting to lose her pet.
A black sinkhole appeared under the demon, as if the roof had just opened up to the depths of hell. The creature shrieked, reaching its three-clawed fingers for me, trying to pull me with it.
Then it was gone.
Calhoun and the others were shouting, snapping med-spelled wrappings over me. Most likely trying to hold my guts in place.
I didn’t look.
I released my blade, lifted my hand, and allowed myself to touch Mark’s neck as he leaned over me. Allowing myself the skin-to-skin contact. Just one more time. “I didn’t thank you for last night.”
He met my gaze, seething in fury. “I think you just did.”
I laughed, choking on blood.
Everything went black.