The New Magic - The Revelation of Jonah McAllister, Landon Wark [10 best novels of all time .TXT] 📗

Moments to breathe were getting to be few and far between lately. Following the incident with Yuri, Aegera had spent several hours trying to chase down exactly what was known about the bloody scene that the Adept had caused. Two or three of the Initiates worked in ancillary positions to law enforcement and she had been able to find that, while there was actual video evidence of what had transpired, the police were treating that video as having been altered.

It was a merciful mistake, but a temporary one as the Initiates had informed her that the footage had been given over to forensic analysts. And when the truth of it came to light there were going to be uncomfortable questions. How much freedom was a corrupt, oligarchic government going to give literal (to use a non-Jonah-approved term) wizards who were going around killing their rank and file was a question Aegera felt should be obvious to anyone.

But, Jonah, for whatever reason, refused to see it.

She couldn't tell for sure if it was wilful ignorance or that he was genuinely sure that those oligarchs were suddenly going to join everyone sitting around the campfire once they saw that those people didn't need them. Shit, people didn't need them now.

She rose from the sofa where she had flopped and proceeded, almost blindly, into the kitchen. Throwing open the cupboard she plucked a wine bottle from the shelf. A tiny amount of liquid sloshed around in the bottom of the bottle, far too little to even bother. There was the option of making more, but she thought better of it. It was already late and wine always interfered with her sleep. The last thing she needed was to wake up with a hangover tomorrow, regardless of how minor. She replaced the bottle, closed the cupboard and took to pacing the carpeted floor of the apartment.

The idea of just leaving this place, of hopping on a plane and returning to more familiar confines came to her suddenly and disappeared just as quickly. Jonah needed her, if only to vainly attempt to shield him from his own naivety. Also, she was more than certain that she would be unable to escape what was bound to happen before long. Truth be told, she wasn't sure she would want to. She had her hand on the tiller. The tiller of the world. How many southern girls could say something like that?

"Not many," she whispered out loud.

It was a long way away from where she began, and she was a long way away from the person she had been even a few months earlier.

But the world wasn't that different, something that Jonah might not want to admit to. In that former life she had slunk past bosses and middle managers who seemed to base their entire personalities on the fact they had control over their little tinpot empires. Aegera tapped her foot, wondering exactly what was going to happen when those jerks and their minor political power found employees flipping them off because it was easier to make food from nothing than putting up with some watercooler dictator. While, by definition, not in the majority they likely commanded enough capital and (by extension) media power to make things difficult. And as soon as the video forensics came back that was going to be their world.

Aegera twiddled her fingers. She was going to need help. Tom was decent enough at controlling the Initiates, despite being—what was the phrase?—not their cup of tea?

Grabbing the phone from its place on the hacked up end table that had been in the apartment when she had (what could generously be called) moved in she tried to recall the damned twenty digit long phone number. The dial tone buzzed several times before a croaking male voice answered.

"What?"

"There's trouble, Tom," she replied into the phone.

"When is there not?" he muttered again. "It's three in the morning, Aggie."

Aegera bristled. "Three of the Adepts killed a... I don't know... Drug kingpin? Pumped his lungs full of heroin."

"Christ. Well, I guess we went and created magic Batman, didn't we?"

"One of the Adepts is dead. We're going to be facing down some heavy police interference in the near future."

"All right."

"Am I the only one who sees this as a huge problem?" Aegera squeezed the phone in her grip.

"It's gonna hafta be a problem for mornin' Tom, innit? Night Tom is trying to make sure that guy's rested enough to deal with it."

"We'll meet up tomorrow night. I need you to handle the other Adepts. I have to talk some sense into Jonah."

"Gave me the easier of the two tasks. I like it."

Aegera snorted and snapped the flip phone shut, cutting off the call. It was the easier of the two jobs. But she had her doubts that even she could have handled it.

Tom Nightshade tossed his phone into his pile of study papers in a chair across the room and draped an arm over Lennie's shoulder. The muscles in the arm eased a little as the man rolled over. His brown eyes locked with Tom's for a moment.

"What was that about?"

"Mmm," Tom groaned. "Nothing, love. Multiple murder. I'll deal with it in the morning."

Lennie rose and kicked a pile of papers out of the way as he tread towards the bathroom.

"Was it that Aggy woman?"

"Ungh. Yeah. Can we just get some sleep? Like I said; Adepts are doin' all the crimes and—" He yawned.

"Can we get away anytime soon? It's been six weeks."

"I don't think so, love."

Lennie stood in his boxer shorts against the frame of the door to the bathroom. While he was a good Initiate he lacked the flair and ambition that Tom had developed over the past four months. It was getting to be more and more difficult for Tom to juggle the drive