Midnight Marked (Chicagoland Vampires 12)

She looked at Reed. “Can we get them out of the way?”

“As you wish,” Reed said, his gaze on the sky. At one time, he’d relished the idea that he was playing a game with us. But not now; we weren’t important anymore. The magic, the QE, and the control it would give him—those were the important things. He wanted control, was waiting for the magic to snap into place. That hadn’t happened yet . . . but whatever Mallory and Catcher were doing, it also hadn’t erased the green smears of magic from the sky. Was it going to work?

Sorcha looked back at me and grinned, and then threw out a hand. Magic—a bright green sphere of it—launched toward me.

I didn’t want any part of that.

I lifted my katana, turning the blade flat, and aimed. The mirrored surface deflected the shot, sent it spinning toward the building, bursting out a chunk of the concrete wall. I was glad that hadn’t been me.

She made a frustrated noise, tossed another ball, then another. I spun the sword, the blade catching the light of her alchemical machine before deflecting both shots. One spun off the roof and burst into sparks in midair. The other skidded across the roof, leaving a ten-foot-long char line as it burned out.

“Dull, dull, dull,” she said, and turned her malicious gaze to Ethan. She lifted her hands, fingers canted to aim, and let magic fly.

I raced toward him, using every ounce of speed I could muster, dove in front of him, and braced myself for impact.

But the shot burst into crystalline sparks of magic.

On the floor, and not missing any chunks, I looked back.

Mallory stepped off the elevator, her blue hair blowing around her head. Catcher must have been minding the magic downstairs, which was fine by me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been so glad to see her.

She walked forward, surveyed the roof, the machine. And her gaze momentarily widened with surprise as she took in Sorcha before spreading into a smile.

“Should have figured it was you,” she said, looking over Sorcha’s outfit. “The magic’s as overdone as the fashion.”

The shot struck home. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re a worthless little hack.” She pointed to the sky with a delicate and manicured finger. “You’ve already lost.”

Mallory walked forward. Petite and blue-haired, in a stained shirt and jeans, she faced down Sorcha, tall and lithe and wearing a jumpsuit that probably cost more than Mallory had ever made in a month. They were an unlikely pair, which I guessed was part of the point.

“Actually,” Mallory said, “that’s not true. Our countermagic has stunted yours. Unfortunately, because your raggedy-ass alchemy was ten times more complicated than it needed to be, the entire situation has locked up.”

Sorcha looked absolutely confounded by the possibility.

“Long story short,” Mallory said, “we blue-screened your magic, bitch. And in order to break this little tie”—she turned her gaze to the metal tree—“I’m going to need to go to the source.”

Sorcha’s expression didn’t change, but she moved to stand in front of her creation. “If you’d like to test your mettle, let’s do it.”

Mallory dipped her chin, her eyes fierce. “Bring it.”

Now magic filled not just the sky, but the air, as Mallory and Sorcha launched volleys against each other. I shifted to stand in front of Ethan, katana in front of me in case I needed to shield him from the shots of magic, or in case Reed became suddenly interested in what was happening around him.

But they’d all but forgotten we were there. While Reed watched the city and the sky, Sorcha fought back with one flaming ball after another, and the grin on her face never wavered.

She underestimated Mallory, who’d mixed up the direction of her volleys, but each had moved Sorcha a few inches away from the machine, until she was completely clear of it.

“No!” Sorcha screamed as Mallory gathered up her reserves until a flaming blue ball of magic floated above her hand. And, with a windup as good as any major league pitcher’s, threw it toward the tree.

For a split second, nothing happened—no sound, no movement, as if the tree had absorbed the magic and hadn’t been affected by it.

Sorcha grinned, but she’d celebrated too early.

Because then there was a deafening groan of metal on metal, and the tree burst down the middle. Light and magic poured upward like a volcano, spreading a thousand feet into the sky and casting blue-green light across the city. We could hear the screams of humans below, afraid the apocalypse had finally befallen their city. The magic that rushed from the machine grew louder, faster, until the tree was vibrating with it.

“Down!” Mallory said, an order the Bells were getting good at delivering tonight. I wrapped an arm around Ethan’s head, squeezed my eyes closed.

The explosion felt as if the sun had settled onto the roof, and shook the building so hard I nearly lost my footing and was afraid it would crumble to the ground beneath us.

Shrapnel flew across the roof, stabbing into the walls and showering over the sides of the roof. As rock and metal shards rained down around us, I looked up. The sky was clear and dark, the lines of the QE gone.