Magician Rising (Divination in Darkness Book 1) Read online

  Magician Rising

  Divination in Darkness Book 1

  Renée des Lauriers

  For Maya

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Thank You For Reading!

  Free Book

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  1

  Only twenty minutes left until closing, and some punk kid came rushing through the door, knocking into the discount toothpaste display and scattering boxes on to the floor. Jeff rolled his eyes and got up from his post by the cash register. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit.

  He’d spent the better part of the afternoon arranging the boxes in neat little rows. Now he had to settle for stacking them back up haphazardly. He’d have to fix it tomorrow before Kevin got on his case about it.

  Kevin’s Quick & Convenient store had been empty for more than an hour. Of course someone would show up right at the last moment. This kid needed to get out in five minutes for Jeff to close up on time. After his shift, that guy on Craigslist would hold the backup generator for him until nine, but he couldn’t press his luck. Someone else would definitely snag it, what with all of the blackouts going around recently. Last time the power went out at the end of the quarter finals of the World Cup, right before France scored the winning goal against Russia. Jeff resorted to googling the scores on his phone and watching recaps on YouTube.

  The boy, now pacing up and down through the aisles, was the type that thought it was cool to dress in all black. Pale, and sort of sickly. Jeff didn’t like the way the kid’s hands were twitching, all shifty-looking. His movements were too jerky to be considered normal. Like he was on drugs or something.

  Jeff scowled. If this punk stole something, would he get fired? If it was the wrong thing, maybe. So Jeff stopped at the end of the aisle, straightening cans, just close enough to notice the kid was muttering to himself. Jeff sidled closer.

  But that didn’t stop the boy from pulling something off the shelf, ripping it open, and eating it right in front of him. Oh, hell no.

  “Umm, are you going to pay for that?”

  The kid ignored him, jamming another handful into his mouth.

  “Hey, kid, I said…” Jeff trailed off. The kid was shoving batteries into his mouth, chomping on them like they were carrot sticks. What the fuck?

  As he stared, the kid dropped the package of AAs and ripped into another. Chewing and snorting like a pig as he ate.

  “Is this some sort of reality TV show?” Jeff looked over his shoulder. “Kevin? Maggie? You can come out now, I’m not buying this. It’s not funny. You can stop now.”

  But no one answered. There was no hey, you got me. No hidden camera crew came out and explained what was going on. Just some weird kid making his way through a twenty count package of batteries. Must be drugs then. People did all sorts of crazy things on drugs.

  That’s it. Jeff didn’t like being pushy, but he was going to have to put his foot down. If the boy was high, there was no telling what other crazy stuff he was going to pull. Jeff tapped on his shoulder. “Excuse me, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  The kid turned and smiled in a rictus of jagged teeth, ringed with blood. His pupils were constricted into sharp points that didn’t meet Jeff’s gaze as he crammed the last handful of batteries into his mouth.

  Oh, shit.

  Time to get out. Or call 911 or something. But if he ditched work, what would happen to his paycheck? Would he even make rent?

  The boy smirked at him, the batteries clenched in his grubby fists. Untidy hair, dull brown eyes and what looked like a ketchup stain smeared on his chin. Maybe fifteen years old.

  What the hell, wasn't he just… It's late, I need a coffee or something.

  “Sir, you’re going to have to get out of this store. You are going to have to eat batteries somewhere else.”

  That seemed to finally get the kid’s attention.

  “Don’t say a word.” The boy’s words were oddly rhythmic, in his raspy voice. Droplets of red flicked onto his lips as he spoke.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re defacing company property. I can’t let you do that.” Jeff wiped his clammy hands on his khakis.

  The boy’s words continued in an odd sort of croon. “Momma’s gonna buy you a Mockingbird.”

  What did that even mean? “Look, kid, I just caught you shoplifting. Your parents aren’t here to buy your mockingbird or whatever.”

  The kid cocked his head as if straining to hear something. But the store was quiet. It was just the two of them talking, and only one of them was making any sense.

  Screw it. Jeff could pay for the damn batteries himself. “Now, I can let you off with a warning, if you promise to leave the store and not come back. There's no need to get the police involved.”

  It was like a switch flipped. The kid broke into a smile filled with dripping teeth, like a predator baring fangs. “And if that mockingbird don’t sing…” He leaned back until his arms touched the metal display shelves.

  There was a crack and a bright flash like lightning. Electricity pulsed down the kid’s skinny arms to the shelving and into the floor. Above them, the lights flickered spastically on and off. The kid stared for a moment longer and almost seemed to get taller. “Momma’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.”

  The kid turned back to the shelves and grabbed his third fix of AAs.

  Let him have all the batteries. This shit was too weird. Jeff tried to take a step away and found that he couldn’t.

  He looked down at his feet, but he couldn’t see them. He tried to pull up his leg, but it was stuck, as if he had stepped into a bucket of cement. Jeff bent down to try yanking at his thigh. His feet and the bottom of his leg disappeared into the floor. It wasn’t until he looked back up at the kid that he realized the kid wasn’t getting taller. Somehow Jeff was sinking—sinking straight down into the floor.

  Jeff looked around for something to hold on to, but the shelves were too far away to reach. He strained toward them anyway as they gradually got further and further out of reach.

  “What the hell did you do to me?” Jeff tried to lean forward to reach something and pull himself out, but he was held fast. He kept trying, stretching his shaking hands. Anything to fight against gravity or whatever was pulling him down.

  Jeff paused. Someone else was in the store. The new customer was the type of guy who didn’t know when to stop going to the gym. Jeff usually had a sense about who was around, but for such a bulky guy, the newcomer was pretty quiet. Didn’t even set off the obnoxious chimes at the entrance.

  Before Jeff could warn him or even ask for help, the new guy lunged at the battery kid and punched him right in the ribs—at least, Jeff thought it was a punch, until he saw the handle clenched in a white-knuckle grip.

  “Momma!” the kid shrieked, high pitched and angry. He thrashed his arms in jerky motions as sparks flew out of his fingertips. The newcomer twisted his fist.

  The
kid went limp. That was a blade, wasn’t it? As it was pulled out, red flowed out onto the floor Jeff had polished three hours before.

  The constricted pupils lost their focus as the kid let out a breath like a sigh.

  Jeff waited for a moment for the kid to get up. He didn’t. The only thing that moved was the dark fluid spreading along the linoleum.

  “Did you just kill him?”

  The guy turned and kneeled, keeping away from where Jeff’s calf should have been, and tapped around the area with the still wet knife. Where his feet sunk below the floor, there was no feeling, as if he had no toes to move at all.

  “I might be able to save you.” His eyes were pale and piercing, like thin ice over deep water. Jagged pink scars were partially hidden under stubble and light hair, and he frowned as if Jeff’s predicament was a particularly challenging sudoku puzzle.

  “That sounds great, man.” Jeff bit down on his trembling bottom lip.

  “You might have a chance if I cut you out from here.” He placed the knife against Jeff’s upper thigh, close enough to feel the lethal edge of it.

  “Woah, woah, woah!” He waved his arms, desperate to push the guy and his knife away. “Stop! Get that thing away from me. You can’t chop off my legs! Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “Nikolai.” His lips pressed together, and his eyes narrowed. “It might be the only way to save your life.”

  “Save my life? I’m pretty sure that cutting off my legs is a bad idea. A really bad idea. Worse than whatever that psycho kid did to me.”

  Nikolai sighed. “All right, then.” He wiped his blade on the kid’s shirt and started walking back down the aisle. He disappeared around the shelves.

  “Wait, where are you going? Can’t you at least call for help or something? You can’t just leave me here!”

  Nikolai said nothing, but he did return a moment later with a fire extinguisher in hand.

  “How’s that going to help?”

  Nikolai swung the extinguisher down to the floor, smashing the tiles and cracking the cement below. Over and over, in a way that would almost certainly get Jeff fired.

  Jeff looked at all those jagged edges of broken cement. Shouldn’t that have hurt?

  Why couldn’t he feel those little rocks that went flying?

  Nikolai dug out chunks of cement, tossing them off to the side. He stopped and cursed, dropping the extinguisher with a clank.

  “What is it?”

  “The parts of you that went under are just gone.”

  “What do you mean gone? Can’t you try pulling me out?”

  Nikolai shook his head. “I tried that on the last guy. It didn’t work.”

  Jeff swallowed. The floor was almost to his hips and showed no signs of stopping. “Please, there has to be something.” He shut his eyes, nausea pooling in the pit of his stomach. “My legs. You can cut them.”

  “It’s too late for that. I’m sorry.”

  Jeff looked for reprieve in Nikolai’s stoic expression and found nothing.

  Jeff was actually disappointed to hear that it was too late to cut off body parts.

  “Could you leave me alone for a minute?” The chatter in his teeth was agonizingly audible. There was no pretending to be brave.

  “If it starts to become painful,” Nikolai said, “I can end things quickly for you.”

  “Okay, Jesus, just give me a second.”

  “I’ll be by the door if you change your mind.”

  Jeff pulled his phone from his pocket, looking away when he noticed the floor looming right below.

  On his lock screen, there she was—his golden-haired beauty. What was going to happen to her? The last words of the kid brought Jeff inspiration. He flipped through to his favorites and pressed call. It went to voicemail. Jeff hung up and called again. He listened to it ring, muttering, “Come on, the one day I need you to pick up, come on.”

  “Hello?”

  “Hey!” Jeff bent his arms higher, stretching up at an awkward angle as high as he could go. He tried to sound normal, chipper even, but his throat was tight, his voice a strung bow.

  “Jeff? What is it, are you okay?”

  “Something happened today at work. Mom, I need to ask you something.” He was eye level with the laundry detergent on the bottom shelf. He refused to look down.

  “Did you go off on a customer or something?”

  “Not like that. Look, I need you to take care of Roxie for me.” The bottom of his elbow was stuck in place, holding the phone to his ear.

  “What, you don’t call in two weeks and then ask me to watch your dog?”

  Jeff took a ragged breath. “Just promise me.”

  “All right, fine.”

  He’d only taken her for a short walk that morning. He’d promised her a longer one, just as soon as he got back. By now she’d be waiting at the front door for him, nose tucked between her little paws. Wagging her stubby tail at any noise approaching the door. Wondering why he never came home. “Just don’t forget to put the cheese on top of her kibble, and don’t let her eat alone. She won’t eat if she’s left alone.”

  “I know.” She let out a deep sigh. “I still have the instructions from last time. All six pages.”

  He could see the floor sucking him in, like sinking down into ocean waves. “I’m sorry about Thanksgiving. It was stupid of me, and you shouldn't have to put up with that. I lo—” He suddenly couldn’t move his lips anymore. He couldn’t feel his mouth.

  “It’s okay. I love you, too.”

  The floor was up to his nose, and then he couldn’t breathe.

  No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. He was just four online classes away from finishing his degree and finally being able to quit this place. He’d made reservations for that fancy new restaurant, and he was going to do it. He was finally going to ask Jamie from the dog park out on a date. He was going to…

  The floor was up to his eyes, a wall of linoleum as far as he could see. Then everything went black.

  2

  Jun stared at the fortune cookie with more suspicion than a confection made of flour, sugar, and vanilla extract normally deserved. There was no way a cookie could have any impact on her destiny—the little strip of paper inside was entirely useless. So why did she make no move to toss it into the bowl smeared with Moo Goo Gai Pan sauce and be done with it? She grabbed it and found herself snapping it open instead and muttered the message. “Change not what you carry, but what you carry it with.”

  Stupid. Jun shook her head. Why did she even bother? The leftovers of her rushed meal went into the trash. Her shift was just about to start.

  Jun shuffled her uniform cap in her hands. She still had five minutes, and the Campus Shop was right there.

  In the display window beneath the 50% off sign was the Fenty mascot bag she’d been eyeing for weeks—special edition in her school’s colors and in the classic teddy bear shape. Bear. Like the school mascot. Like her last name. The plush chenille fabric called to her.

  Don’t even think about it.

  Bad luck courted Jun like a lover, and she didn’t want to give any signs that she believed in their relationship. Besides, her backpack was fine. Sure, she had gotten it in high school and the fabric was wearing down, but she had more important things to worry about.

  Jun waited until she entered Feelin’ Saucy before jamming on a cap featuring a smiling pizza slice.

  “Hey, Antonio. What do you got for me?” Jun unhooked the keys behind the counter. The plastic epitaph chained to it declared that pizza is the only love triangle I want.

  She cringed at the pizza boxes stacked to half her height. Her shift was supposed to be over before her next class.

  It was okay. There was still enough time.

  Antonio patted the top of the stack like it was an obedient pet. “You know what to do.”

  “Thanks, man.” Jun scooped up the boxes, leaning so that they wouldn’t hit her in the face. She maneuvered out of the back door and into th
e Crust Mobile, a van with the tacky drawing of a pizza on the door panels and mesh wire along the side windows. It was a fitting name. Every day on the job, without fail, she’d found pieces of crust in the seams of the seat. She loaded the pizzas into the hotbox and was off campus before the long hand made its way once around the clock.

  “All right, first order, two-sixty-two Shattuck Ave.” A light drizzle coated the windows. The sky was a dreary gray that promised a storm. She started up the Crust, calculated the quickest route, then was on the road. The windshield wipers smeared the rain into wet streaks.

  Noticing college-aged guys on the sidewalk, Jun pulled the cap low on her forehead and slouched in her seat. They probably weren’t in her class. Even if they were, they wouldn’t recognize Jun in her uniform. Probably.

  Jun flipped on the radio, shifting between the three stations that worked. She switched it from the one station that was half light jazz, half loud static. The next station played the news, something about a reward for any leads into the disappearance of a Jeff Thompson—well, that was depressing. The third station was probably music, but no matter what time her shift was, it always played commercials. Jun let a soothing voice explain why she should hurry in today, because there was no way this discount flooring deal could last.

  Ignoring the main roads, with their line of cars all bumper to bumper for as far as the eye could see, she instead went down the little streets hugged by cheerful suburban houses. Her meandering path was only seven minutes faster than sitting in traffic, but it was worth it. California drivers reacted to drizzle like it was the apocalypse.