Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
SLADE
I’m sitting on the floor, watching Angelo’s pulse hammer.
My hands are in my lap as I stay still, both of us hoping to avoid triggering magical wards on the studio’s steel door.
The elder Gemini, for all his airs, is the worst at this game of ‘statue’—every third breath is a nervous wriggle, and his knees occasionally jitter against mine.
Damon is definitely the less anxious twin, and I suppose it’s because Angelo is the action guy.
I shoot him a look, one eyebrow arched as we wait.
He meets it and bares his teeth, but I know it’s just being playful.
The twins seem far less imposing than their reputation, and even better-behaved than the others make their parents out to be.
I assume he’s just not used to waiting for things like this in person.
Jasper stands behind us all, shadowing the hallway from wall to wall with his arms folded. “You look ridiculous,” he mutters, which from Jasper is practically a sonnet, I gather.
Zavida perches on the radiator, and he flinched as Iggy was working. The sound was a little static puff, nothing lethal, but I guess he’s just the nervous type. I get that; if I hadn’t been trained so well as a child, I’d be freaking out, too.
The panda demon looms next to Zavida, his expression more his gentle bear than a demon.
He’s very laid-back about all of this shit, and I appreciate that more than he knows.
Most of his ‘brothers’ are high-strung, and he is not.
That’s helpful as shit, even if he hasn’t been able to do much with this door situation.
I look at Kaspar, and for all his sullen posturing, his stern, watchful gaze is useful.
He won’t allow me to be hurt because Morgana would be pissed, and even if I don’t advocate for myself, I bet he’ll jump in.
He’s really been working hard to reverse his bullshit since Lucas and I were jammed up at the theater.
I think he’s going to win my mate over in not too long; the difference has been noticeable as hell.
But it’s Iggy who’s working on the door now, his sandy-blond hair sticking up from his hands raking through it.
He got the ‘extra’ magic off of his strand a few minutes ago, and the fact that he wasn’t familiar with the type really pissed him off.
Now he’s using his mage powers to carefully remove the magical piece attuned to his kind as he grumbles under his breath.
He looks back at us—me, mostly, though it could be a trick of the hallway light—and flashes the lopsided smile that once convinced a department head to allow a freshman student to run the entire theater orchestral program in our first month as roommates.
Iggy’s always been a dashing, charming asshole when he felt like it—to both of our benefits.
His grumpy shit only started when we met Morgana, and I’d bet my last reed that it’s because he’s fighting the pull of the mate bond.
“Slade,” he says, “I could use your help.”
I scoot forward, pushing up my glasses as I look at the lock.
Every nerve in my body wants to preen because he asked for me rather than anyone else.
I bury that pride beneath my best professional frown as I incline my head at Iggy, who waits at my side with his sleeves already rolled.
I feel the raw edge of his magic waiting for my own to mesh with it.
This has always been one of my favorite things to do because I feel so close to him when we cast together.
“Do you want a song or just a harmony for your spell?” I ask, and he shrugs, a movement too elegant for the hallway’s dim light. “The others will need to cover their ears appropriately.”
“Just chime in with a wee bit of your power to give me a boost.” He says this as though he isn’t about to rip apart one of the most sophisticated anti-intrusion wards any of has ever seen.
I grin, nodding in understanding. “Got it. On three?”
“Three,” Iggy grunts quickly, and throws his entire weight into the incantation, the first word sizzling the air like dry heat. “Dimitte ut iubeo. Magia tua nunc ex hoc loco expulsa est.1”
I’m half a breath behind, harmonizing his words and letting my voice slip lend the subtle undertone only a siren can manage. His spell work is more basic than his usual casting, but I assume he’s not comfortable showing his entire hand yet.
From the back, Liam hisses, “Focus. I think you’re getting it.”
The first bit I see as we chant is a protection spell. It resists frantically, but Iggy takes it down with little fanfare. I sing it down, matching with every note, until it softens into pliability. Iggy catches it, curls his magic around it, and begins the careful work of unspooling.
But there’s a snag—something thin and bright, woven almost invisibly through the next layer.
Iggy’s eyes snap open, and he looks at me with a frown. “Not mage or of my kind. There’s a second layer of non-human type magic in here.”
What in the fuck is this shit?
I blink as I watch the sparkling strand wind around the piece we’re working on. That looks like Fae magic, and how is it woven in with this strand, too? Whoever did this had a lot of help—more than one or two supes for certain.
“Liam,” I mutter, keeping my tongue low and vibrating with the spell’s residue. “We may need you again. More Fae magic inside.”
He does not answer, just strides over to look at where we’re working. “This is very unusual. It was twisted into the strand under whatever Iggy removed and is wrapped up with what you’re doing now.”
I tilt my head, and Iggy adjusts the pitch of his chant. Liam sends out some of his magic, picking at the Fae power while we’re focused on the other part.
Honestly, the magic itself is beautiful; it’s like a lattice of borrowed energy, and every junction point thrumming a tiny hymn of power.
The more we unravel, the more it fights, but it yields at last, like a sheet tearing down the middle.
There is a sound—real or imagined—of a child-like sigh of disappointment as both the Fae magic and the mage kind dissipate.
I fall back, breathing hard, and Iggy sags onto his heels, wiped but not spent. Liam backs away, and I feel his frustration at the level of protection this damn door has on it. The Prince does not believe this is just some random weapon or artifact; whatever is behind this door is very important.
Jasper, who has not taken his eyes off the process, kneels down beside us. He grunts as he stares at the remaining demonic strand in annoyance. “This is much bigger than we expected; it has to be. Why else would they go to this much effort?”
Iggy closes his eyes, ostensibly to keep from snarking at the dragon. “That much is certain, Prince Jasper. It should not take this many of us very powerful, differently powered species to get the damn thing open.”
Zavida cocks his head. “So, not just Darkstar, then?”
“Definitely not.” Salem snorts as he shakes his two-toned head. “No way that fucker could do this, and I can’t imagine anyone liking him enough to do it for him. This is someone or something he let on campus to hide shit. No question about that.”
Liam squints at the remaining demonic magic hovering around the lock.
“Has to be. And whoever it is, their Fae helpers—whether hybrid or full-blooded—are extremely powerful. Even if we think their training isn’t top notch, their power level is high.
It would have to be in order to mesh with the other magics this way. ”
“This isn’t like any security I’ve seen before—not even in Society quarantines,” Iggy replies, and looks at me.
Everyone looks at him and he shrugs. “They occasionally tap university professors to look at things they’ve found or taken off someone.
I’ve only done it once or twice and it wasn’t anything this intricate. ”
Anton finally breaks the silence by saying, “We should try the next layer, so we can report back to the others.”
Jasper nods. “If you collapse, I’m not dragging you back to the dorms. Salem is in charge of that, and Zav will help with transport, as will Gemini.”
“Duly noted.” The serious demon steps into the place where Iggy was a moment ago, cautiously looking at the dark strand of magic.
“Angelo, I believe that you and Jasper may need to add some of your… power into the mix. I can handle controlling the magic, but your back-up energy will give me more thrust.”
The two leaders nod, and I scoot out of the way as the Prince of Hell comes to stand in my place.
Jasper looks at Anton and the peacock hybrid starts chanting in what I’m pretty sure is the demonic language.
I have no idea what it means, or what spell he’s using, and when I look at Iggy, he’s perplexed as well.
Even Liam looks out of the loop as he stands with Salem and Zavida at the back of the group.
Within a few moments, a rush of light and the scent of seawater pushes Angelo across the floor and the prince back a few inches. Jasper blinks in surprise, turning to Anton. “What the fuck was that?”
“I don’t… know…” the demon pants as his rainbow magic works to untangle the dark blue thread wound alongside the demonic black one. “This isn’t something I’ve ever felt before.”
But it is something I’ve felt before—I don’t know which one, but I can smell it in the blast that rocked the demons.
My hands are already shaking as I murmur, “It’s… Remember when I said Atlantis is full of other realm folks, including demigods?”
“Yes,” Jasper says suspiciously. “What of it?”
“This is theirs. Their magic is a blend of the species who choose to live below the waves. It combined long ago—or that’s what my mom said. Who knows if she’s full of shit, though.”
“Get in there and help Slade. Maybe if you’ve been there, it will recognize you?” Iggy rubs the back of his neck, looking as if he’s just throwing darts at a board now.
“I’ll try,” I murmur as I move forward to flatten my palms against the door. Letting my voice out, I try to keep it soft enough to not entrance the others. The wood vibrates under my touch, and the ward hums. The feel of it is distinctly Atlantean, all wet and full of regret as it responds to me.
This ward hates me because there’s a history between the Finns and some of the Atlantean residents—I guess Iggy was right about being a bit sentient.
I lean into the wood and try again. “Remember me?” I whisper. “I actually loved visiting your home as a kid. I can’t help that my parents are assholes, you know.”
The ancient magic strains toward me as if it’s going to bite me. Pulling back a little, I frown at it. “Being a dick won’t fix the past. You don’t even belong here. Someone is using you.”
My song starts again, and Angelo moves away carefully. Iggy moves in behind me, bracing with his hands hovering an inch from my back, ready to catch me if I fall. I twist the chord of my magic, turning it from a song into a snarl, and the ward shudders, cracks, and folds in on itself.
Hell yeah. Eat shit, petty Atlantis-based magic. You lose.
Kaspar clears his throat, “You’d better be okay, guppy. The woman will be quite pissy if I have to haul you back. She’s got one down as it is.”
I chuckle, moving back from the door with a tired sigh. “It isn’t quite open yet, so no dice, Kas. There’s the demon strand left, so I’m gonna rest while Anton and the others handle it.”
Ceding to Anton, I scoot away from the wood to sit next to Iggy. My eyes follow the quiet demon as he cracks his knuckles and murmurs a string of demonic words that I definitely can’t understand. His words slip through the gap and expand, ballooning until the door actually bows inward.
There is a click, and the door finally swings open with a mechanical sigh.
We all stare into the dark for a moment, shocked that it’s no longer closed.
Salem, emboldened by the prospect of mischief, is the first to speak. “Damn, guys! You beat that fucker’s ass! Let’s get in there and find out what the hell it’s hiding.”
I push to my feet, nodding in agreement. “Good idea.”
Iggy glances at me, his expression suspicious as he looks into the dark room. “If you die, can I have your guitar?”
“Which one?” I ask as I step into the studio. He frowns at me, rolling his eyes when I don’t protest at his joke.
“Follow the Prince and I,” Kaspar says as he pushes off the wall. “We’re the most indestructible.”
Jasper nods. “Unfortunately, he’s right.”
Everyone falls into a line and we head into the studio together. Inside, the air is thick with magic and the musk of a thousand nights spent writing songs. There’s a battered desk, half-devoured by candles and loose sheet music. Instruments line the far wall, most in varying states of use.
Zavida slips in behind me quietly, murmuring, “What are we looking for?”
I shrug. “Whatever someone went to all this trouble to hide.”
Jasper moves to the desk, opening a drawer slowly. There is a coil of parchment, tied with a black ribbon lying in it. He holds it up, his nostrils flaring as he scents the paper. “This is the focus,” he says.
Iggy walks over to take it from him. “This was how they combined everything I suppose, but it’s not doing shit after we defeated the damn thing.”
Kaspar steps up, eyes narrowed. “Do any of you want to deal with that big metal safe thing in the corner or are we going to stay here all night?”
Chuckling, Anton walks over to it, studying it briefly before he says, “Give me the scroll, professor.”
I watch as Iggy brings it over and the peacock demon chants again before touching the scroll to the lock on the safe. The wheel spins, unlocking immediately and we all lean in to see the large, glowing book inside.
“This is what we’re after,” I say as I step closer. “It’s got a crazy amount of symbols on it, including the Atlantean ones.”
“Then we go back and put it in the magic dampener in our room,” Anton says matter-of-factly. “X and I have one in our room to store take home projects in. We can pull it out in the morning and start working on getting it open, too.”
Oh, that’s going to be very interesting—especially with the entire cadre of supes, demons, and women.
1 Release as I command. Your magic is now expelled from this place.