I pretend not to see the crestfallen look on Oliver’s face and sit down at the table next to Terrance. “Okay.” I blow on my coffee and take a sip. It’s not sludge. Terrance really knows his way around the kitchen. “So…here’s what I got from the vision. I think—this is an educated guess, mind you—but I believe they’re going to attempt to acquire the power from all the underworlders they’ve collected. Like they’re going to siphon out the underworlders’ life forces and keep it for themselves in some sort of sacrificial ritual.” This earns me a round of gasps and growls. “Can that be done?”
After the outraged shouting and swearing from Nick and Terrance ends, Oliver answers my question. “It would be very difficult, and could only be done through dark magic. Regular magic—good magic—comes from within. That’s why only sorcerers can do magic. We are born with it inside us. We don’t have to steal it to use it. Dark magic is power stolen by killing magical beings. It’s extremely powerful, but also highly unstable, and becomes evil. It’s hard to use. In order to perform the kind of thing you’re talking about, you’d need…”
“Twelve guys?” I guess. “They said they needed twelve.”
All three men at the table groan. Nick curses again and throws his head back, staring at the ceiling. “We’re dealing with an entire coven?”
“I don’t think so.” All eyes come back to me. “I think we’re dealing with wannabes. I think they’re all humans pretending to be sorcerers. They don’t have magic of their own, they get it from their leader—a mid-level sorcerer, he said. I think they’re using his magic to perform the ritual so that they can gain underworld power. I don’t think it’s their first time, either. He said that their power is starting to fade, but that they’d do the ritual before it was all gone.”
Oliver nods as if this makes perfect sense. “Yeah, that seems more like it. No way would there ever be an entire coven dumb enough to get mixed up in dark magic. One idiot mid-level sorcerer looking to gain more power by getting humans to do his dirty work? That’s much more realistic.”
I meet his eyes and smirk. “You know, he said mid-level like it was the most badass thing ever.”
A ghost of a smile crosses Oliver’s face. It’s almost cocky, but not quite. “It’s not bad if he really is one,” he says with a modest shrug. “He can probably do some damage. He’ll be tough to defeat if he’s using dark magic. We’ll have to get backup when we’re ready to invade their sanctuary. Two or three sorcerers, at least.”
“Or maybe,” Nick says, tapping his chin with his finger, as if thinking very hard. “If only the Agency had someone like a high sorcerer to help them out. Dark magic or not, a mid-level sorcerer would be a walk in the park for a guy like that.”
When Oliver glares at Nick, I join him, feeling both protective and possessive all of a sudden. How dare he give my best friend a hard time about that. “You shut up about that, Nick,” I growl. “You don’t know anything about it.”
Nick blinks at me a couple times, but when he gets over his shock, he gives me a hard smirk. “Your boy toy here is wasting his God-given talent.”
“So what? You get off his case about it.”
Nick matches my anger, leaning forward in his chair, both hands in fists on the table. His eyes lock on mine, and I stare him down right back. It’s as if we’ve both forgotten Oliver is in the room. This fight has somehow become between Nick and me. “Someone has to get on his case about it,” Nick growls. “Director West is too soft on him. He needs to step up and become the man he’s supposed to be.”
“You weren’t there that night!” I scream, angry tears misting my eyes. “You don’t know what it was like for either of us!”
Nick is relentless. “I know it was worse for you, but you don’t let that night rule your life.”
“The hell I don’t!” I slam to my feet, banging the table with both hands, and my chair goes flying out behind me. “Why the hell do you think I don’t date, or even have any friends? I get sick to my stomach every time someone touches me! Every damn time someone gets too friendly, I relive that night. It’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, asshole, and it’s real! And just because Oliver suffers from it differently than me, doesn’t mean he’s not suffering. If you want him to use his magic again, then get him help. Don’t sit around making him feel like less of a man for a problem he probably doesn’t even realize he has. He wasn’t like me. He wasn’t sent to years of therapy. He never told anyone what happened. Nobody knew what he went through. He needs compassion and support, not a kick in the ass, and if you can’t leave him alone, then you can get the hell out of here. I’ll find Shandra without you.”
My chest is heaving, and my tears are streaming down my cheeks, but I don’t care. I’m so angry. And maybe my anger isn’t for Oliver. Well, not only for Oliver. Maybe I have anger issues after my sad story of a life. But just because I lost it doesn’t make what I said untrue. I’m not going to back down.
Neither is Nick, apparently. Or maybe he’s just reacting to my display of dominance. I don’t know what kind of underworlder he is. Maybe he can’t back down. He rises slowly to his feet and does that freaky eye thing where his pupils turn into slits and he emits power. When he gets like this, the room gets hotter, as if he’s radiating heat. “You,” he says, shaking with fury, “will not do anything else regarding this case unless I say so and am there to supervise you, or so help me I’ll throw you in jail for hindering my investigation!”
And that is just enough to send Terrance over the edge. “ARE YOU THREATENING HER?” he roars.
His eyes are now all black, which has previously scared the piss out of everyone around him, no matter how badass they are. Not now, though. Apparently, Nick Gorgeous is the Agency’s go-to guy, because he’s even more badass than a raging troll. His gaze snaps from me to Terrance, and he stands up straight, seeming to grow taller and broader as he does. And something happens to his skin that I’m not sure how to describe. I’m not close enough to him to get a good look at it, but I’d swear it’s shiny now, as if it turned to armor. What the hell is that guy?
“I’m doing my job,” he says, his voice echoing with power. “After Oliver called about the black magic, Madison told me to babysit these two idiots”—he waves his hand at Oliver and me—“the unsolved human puzzle, and the Agency’s golden boy because they know Nora won’t stop meddling until she gets herself killed, and Oliver will go along for the ride because he’s infatuated with her.”
What? How rude.
“I don’t mind letting Nora do her thing,” Nick continues. “I want to find our missing underworlders, too, and she seems to be our best bet for that so far. But make no mistake, Terrance, I will protect her from herself if I have to, whether it pisses you off or not.”
Terrance calms down, seeming pleased with Nick’s explanation. I groan, and suddenly both Nick and Terrance are looking at me. I went from no one in the world caring about me to having two extremely overprotective big brother types in one night. I would tell Nick where he can shove his babysitting, except the man has a point. I’m just reckless and stubborn enough to get myself into serious trouble. And I honestly wouldn’t mind having whatever the hell he is at my side tonight when I go serve myself up as bait in order to find Shandra. “Well,” I grumble, because they’re both staring at me as if waiting for me to say something. I give Nick a flat look. “At least you can recognize my skills for how useful they are and aren’t trying to ground me.”
Nick surprises me with a chuckle. “You are pretty badass, little human. You’ve proven to be more than resourceful. I’ve got no problems letting you put that arsenal of unique abilities to use. But if you insist on doing this, then I’m coming with you.”
“Fair enough.” I shrug. “Just respect Oliver, and we won’t have any more problems.”