Crimes Against Magic: The Hellequin Chronicles by McHugh Steve

Author:McHugh, Steve
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2013-09-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

Dani’s description of what she’d seen sat with me long after I’d left her in Francis and Laurel’s able care. I couldn’t be late to the meeting with Achilles; there’s no way he would let that pass without incident. I tried to show everyone that I was fine, that I thought Dani’s vision was just the creation of her fears, but I knew that it wasn’t. And that scared me.

So, I left with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. And for the entire cab journey, that feeling spread inside me. By the time I’d reached my destination, I was beginning to wonder if I was actually going to make it out in one piece. I had to figure out an escape plan, one that resulted in innocent people not dying. If it came to it, secrets be damned, I’d use enough magic to take Achilles out. So long as I was capable of using that much. I suddenly regretted not practicing with my magic more.

I left the cab and watched it drive off into the night as rain began to fall in a steady stream. A guard stood at the entrance to the industrial estate, next to a small hut where he could operate the barrier. He wore dark combat fatigues, black boots, and a dark blue camo jacket, under which a holster was visible. He aimed an M4 carbine at me. “I’d walk away,” he said.

“I’m here to see Achilles. He’s expecting me.”

“Hands on the hut.” He waved the gun’s barrel slightly and I complied, placing my hands on the cold glass. He patted me down without comment, a professional just doing a job.

“Let’s go,” he said when satisfied I wasn’t hiding anything.

I turned to walk off in the direction of the warehouse and spotted someone’s legs stretched across the floor inside the hut. The body had been shoved under the desk, but it was done carelessly. The light in the hut fell over the side of his face, showing his neck at an impossible angle. I knew him, or at least I’d met him a few times. I couldn’t remember his name, but he was only a kid, nineteen at most. He’d worked at the fights as a favor to his dad, someone Holly’s own father was friends with. “You didn’t have to kill him,” I said.

The guard pointed behind me at a fast-approaching black Saab 9-3 convertible. The Saab belonged to Holly’s mum, Lyn. She was not a woman who was easily forced into giving up anything. To get her car, they must have really piled on the pressure.

“You’re going with them,” the guard said and shoved me forward.

The car pulled up beside me, where one man got out and the driver pointed another M4 at me. Both wore the exact same uniform as the guard at the front gate. “Get in,” the passenger said.

“Do you know who killed the kid in the hut?” I asked as the passenger got into the rear of the car and motioned for me to get into the front passenger seat.

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