Evil Waking (Magic Trackers Book 3) Read online

  The man gestured to the woman on the ground.

  “Hurting women and dumping them on someone’s doorstep is a message?” I asked.

  “Surely you feel it,” the man said, his hands glowing blue. He spread them over the woman’s body.

  She began dreaming.

  I could feel the dream ether rippling out from her body.

  A cold wind blew, rustling the trees.

  “Enter the woman’s dream to receive your message,” the man said. “I will wait patiently until you return.”

  “How about you kiss my ass?” Darius asked. “I’ll wait patiently until you get on your knees.”

  “Obey my order or the woman dies,” the man said, brandishing a knife.

  “No you don’t,” Terrance said. He and Darius ran at the man, but a wall of magic sprang up, knocking them onto the ground.

  “As I said before,” the man said, “Balthus’s message awaits you inside the dream. I would be happy to take your message back to him after you have received his.”

  “Aisha, don’t go,” Darius said.

  I balled my fist.

  “Sounds like I don’t have a choice,” I said.

  I approached the woman. Her dream ether was in full vibration now.

  “I’ll be back, guys,” I said.

  “Aisha, stop!” Darius cried.

  I closed my eyes and jumped into the woman’s dream.

  The woman’s dream was already in full formation when I arrived.

  I materialized inside a vintage movie theater. Red curtains surrounded the screen, and the seats were full of murmuring, faceless people. It looked as if they were waiting for a movie to start. The air was stuffy and smelled of old popcorn.

  I didn’t like this dreamscape. There was something eerie about it.

  I clapped, gathering dream ether into my palms.

  But only a small amount of ether appeared in my hands. It quickly fell away.

  I clapped again, but I couldn’t get the ether to stick.

  And then I felt the presence of someone else in the dream.

  Not the dreamer. But a dream mage.

  I had never been in a dream with another dream mage before.

  I turned around, ready to fight.

  A man sat in a booth behind the audience. He operated a projector. From his presence, I knew he was the one controlling the dream.

  I clapped again, tried to throw dream ether at him, but nothing happened.

  “Sit down and enjoy the show,” the mage said.

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  A faceless female usher in a black and white uniform.

  “Please be seated, miss,” the usher said, gesturing to an empty seat in the middle of the crowd.

  Reluctantly, I worked my way into my seat.

  The seat rumbled and the arm rests turned into serpents that bound my arms. I struggled against them, but I couldn’t move.

  The lights darkened and the crowd quieted as the projector turned on.

  Numbers appeared on the screen, and the crowd cheered as they counted downward.

  “Five!”

  “Four!”

  “Three…”

  “Two…”

  “One!”

  A grainy black screen appeared. A male voice spoke. It was reedy, measured, and angry. It was dreamlike too, like it was coming from above.

  I looked back. The dream mage was operating the projector solemnly.

  “This is the story of a dream mage who dared to change the world,” the voice said, “and died doing it. Let us see where our story begins…”

  My shop appeared on the video in black and white.

  It was on fire.

  I struggled against the armrests, but they kept me in place, and the serpents constricted around my arms, preventing me from moving at all.

  “Our story begins with death,” the man said. “The death of an illegal, unethical business.”

  The roof of the shop erupted into flames and caved in.

  I screamed.

  “This death is figurative,” the man said. “But the true death happened shortly after…”

  An image of a funeral appeared.

  A procession of people walked out of a church, carrying a casket with flowers on it.

  Darius and Destiny were pallbearers, and they led the procession. They were both sad and crying.

  The pallbearers set the casket on a pedestal and gathered in front of a gravestone.

  My grave. The camera zoomed in on the words etched into the stone.

  Aisha Renee Robinson

  “A dream mage who dared to do the right thing,” the man said, “and failed to understand how the world really worked.”

  Destiny broke down and fell to her knees, and Darius caught her, tears in his eyes.

  The movie paused.

  “Let’s see where all of this started,” the man said.

  The movie rewound at high speed, past the funeral procession, past the burning shop, to a drawing. Destiny, Darius, and I were drawn in a crude caricature, standing in front of a fiery cave with swords and shields in our hands.

  “The beginning of Aisha’s decay began one snowy night when she and her cousins took it upon themselves to enter the underworld and kill the Somnient king.”

  We entered the cave. The cave swelled, shrank, and then exploded. A red X appeared over the cave.

  “The Somnient population decreased by ninety-nine percent,” the man said, “which created a problem for other dream mages in the city, who rely on Somnient hunting opportunities for income.”

  A crowd of angry caricatures appeared on the screen. They appeared in a line, receiving handouts as if they were in a welfare line.

  “With no other alternatives, these dream mages had to resort to other professions,” the man said. “Many of them weren’t able to eat.”

  This was bullshit.

  Stopping the Somnient population should have been a good thing. Why did the world hate me for diminishing demon attacks?

  “Add in unethical and shady business practices, and you have an enemy of the dream mage profession,” the man said. “Even worse?”

  Photos of me appeared in a collage on the screen, all photo shoots and news articles about me.

  “This dream mage had the audacity to take all the credit, failing to acknowledge the contributions of other hard-working dream mages throughout the city. Enter the Royal Society of Dream Mages.”

  Triumphant orchestral music played.

  A photo of Jim Balthus appeared on the screen.

  “Founded by Jim Balthus, RSDM exists to create income opportunities for dream mages through advocacy. For decades, RSDM has ensured a stable Somnient population for hunting, provided technical courses to improve dream mages’ skills, and facilitated mentorships for young dream mages. For what is a dream mage that cannot use their powers? The most admired businesses in the world have supported RSDM’s mission.”

  I laughed.

  “Did they support you or did you extort them?” I asked.

  The screen went black for a moment before an image of my face appeared.

  “Aisha Robinson has destroyed the delicate ecosystem that RSDM has built.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Ecosystem?

  More like a racket.

  If you were a dream mage and you fell for this crap, then you deserved everything that happened to you.

  “For her offenses to be punished and for the prosperity of the dream mage profession to continue, she must die,” the man said. “It will take years to rebuild the damage she has caused.”

  “Oh no,” I said sarcastically. “I destroyed your status quo and all of your dream mages will have to function in a normal society that’s not propped up by sinister interests. How sad.”

  “And now,” the man said, “a message from our founder.”

  Jim Balthus appeared on the screen, sitting in an office. A ficus wavered behind him.

  “Aisha, Aisha, Aisha,”
he said, grinning. “Hello! I hope this message finds you well. I can imagine you are in awe right now at just what a trained dream mage can do.”

  Fucking asshole.

  “I was disappointed to hear your voicemail message,” he said. “It means I must destroy you now.”

  He leaned forward.

  “I just had a quick question that I hope we can settle today before going any further,” he said. “Would you like Darius or Destiny to die first?”

  The words hit me like stakes to the heart.

  “Please let my attendant know,” Balthus said. “It’s a very urgent matter and I wish to know as soon as possible so that we can start drafting a plan for your destruction. As I said before, I hope this message finds you well and in good spirits.”

  The movie stopped and the lights turned on.

  The audience clapped. The faceless people faded into the seats, and soon, the theater was empty.

  The serpents uncoiled around my arms, slithering into the floor.

  I jumped up and looked back at the dream mage.

  He was gone.

  I could still feel his presence, but he wasn’t in the room.

  I had to find him.

  I had to fight him.

  But before I could do anything else, a whoosh of ether rushed through me, knocking me out of the dream.

  14

  I materialized in the street, slamming into the sidewalk.

  I bounced, rolled, and then hit a fire hydrant.

  Darius and Terrance ran to me.

  The cloaked figure was still standing over the sleeping woman. A barn owl was perched on his arm. The bird woke up, preened itself, and looked at me evilly.

  Now I knew where the voice in the dream had come from.

  A cloaked wizard casting a sleeping spell.

  A shifter transformed into an owl.

  They were mocking me.

  My business model.

  I staggered to my feet.

  Getting pushed from the dream disoriented me, but I tried not to let it show.

  “Does this encounter make you afraid, dream mage?” the man asked.

  “Go to hell,” I said.

  “What is the answer to the question?” he asked. “Do you choose Darius or Destiny first?”

  “Huh?” Darius asked.

  “I choose neither,” I said. “Tell Balthus he can come to me directly, and I'll be ready for him.”

  “That answer is not acceptable,” the man said, pointing at me. “We shall choose for you. Your default answer shall be Darius.”

  “Darius what?” Darius asked.

  “You will be the first to die,” the man said.

  The sleeping woman opened her eyes. She sprang to her feet as if she had never been asleep.

  I couldn't believe it.

  The dream mage inside her dream—he was still inside her mind when she opened her eyes.

  Being trapped inside someone’s mind wasn't a good thing. It wasn't exactly something you did on purpose. I was dealing with skilled magical beings.

  Darius, Terrance, and I stepped back.

  “I get the feeling we’re in for a fight,” Darius said.

  “Not if I can help it,” Terrance said.

  The figures advanced.

  “Back into the gate,” Terrance said. “I got a little something for ‘em.”

  We retreated into the mansion grounds.

  The figures continued their advancement.

  They reached the gate and an explosion ripped across the street.

  The figures arced into the air, landing in a nearby tree, tangling in the branches.

  “Y’all should’ve known you weren't welcome,” Terrance said as a red glyph spun quickly in the middle of the gate and disappeared.

  He whistled.

  “Gordon! Let's go!”

  The Rolls Royce fired up and barreled toward us.

  Terrance opened the door and pushed me in. I landed on plush leather seats. He and Darius jumped in and the chauffeur stomped on the accelerator, tearing down the street.

  “Ronson Street Pavilion,” Terrance said.

  “On it, boss,” the chauffeur said.

  We left the evil crew tangled in the tree, glaring after us.

  “What'd you see in there, Aisha?” Darius asked.

  “More threats,” I said. “This Balthus guy really wanted me to know that he was going to destroy me.”

  “I love how he stole the idea to use a bird to talk to you,” Darius said. “Nobody was doing that until we started it.”

  “I thought the same thing too,” I said.

  “He's trying to rattle you,” Terrance said. “That's how Balthus operates. Gordon, ‘bout how long to the Pavilion?”

  “About fifteen to twenty minutes, depending on traffic, boss,” Gordon said.

  He exited the community exit and eased into a steady stream of traffic on Ennius Street. In the distance, the entrance ramp of Highway 897 glowed with cars zooming across.

  “They're going to try to target you,” I said to Darius. “You need to stick with me. You and Destiny can't be alone anymore.”

  “Got it,” Darius said. “Nice car, by the way, Mr. Lovelace.”

  “Call me Terrance,” Terrance said. “Never liked those formalities.”

  “Boss, the highway is pretty occupied,” Gordon said. “Should I take the city streets? It may add five minutes to the commute, but I'm concerned about the highway traffic.”

  Terrance glanced ahead.

  “Highway does look pretty full,” he said. He reached up and pressed a button in the ceiling. A screen descended, showing traffic congestion in real time.

  “If I had known we were gonna be dealing with those fools tonight, I would have had my guy bring the helicopter round.”

  I studied the map.

  True to Gordon’s visual, the highway was pretty congested a couple of exits down.

  “Highway looks risky,” I said. “If we end up in bumper-to-bumper, it might be an hour until we get to the pavilion.”

  “Let’s take the city streets,” Terrance said. “And let’s hope you're right, Gordon.”

  I pulled out my phone and texted Destiny.

  Where are you?

  She responded right away.

  Headed for the pavilion. Did you meet with Hattie?

  I showed Darius the text message. He nodded.

  I responded.

  Get to the pavilion and stay there. We ran into some trouble. Balthus knows our plan.

  I tucked my phone away.

  Gordon pulled to a stop at a red light.

  I waited anxiously, thinking about all the fighting that lay ahead. I seriously didn't know how I was going to escape from this adventure unscathed.

  The light turned green and Gordon pulled forward. He glanced in the rear view mirror and cleared his throat.

  “I hate to tell you all this, but it appears we are being followed.”

  We looked back.

  A red sport motorcycle weaved in and out of traffic behind us. I instantly recognized the sleeping woman, even though she had a helmet on.

  An owl screeched in the sky, wheeling over the traffic.

  “Damn,” Darius said.

  “Last call for the highway option,” Gordon said.

  “No, we’ll be too vulnerable there,” I said. “It's too dangerous.”

  Gordon passed the highway exit ramp. He increased his speed as we rolled onto the Shoreline Parkway, a long, straight strip of road that wound around the edge of the city and ran alongside Lake Linette.

  The motorcycle approached. The woman revved the engine. The owl swooped down low before rising into the sky.

  “We need to ditch these guys,” Darius said.

  “There's nowhere to go,” Terrance said. He took off his blazer, unbuttoned his French cuffs, and rolled up his sleeves. “It's about time I show you a thing or two about what being a wizard’s all about.”

  “That a challenge?” Darius asked, sliding to
the other side of the car. “Cuz I can cast with the best of them, sir.”

  “That right?” Terrance asked. “Gordon, send a voice message to Hattie and let her know we are in trouble. Then send a voice message to the police and tell them to shut down the parkway behind us, not ahead. And slow down. Let's get ‘em close and get this fight started.”

  I climbed into the front seat, watching as Gordon pressed a button in the ceiling and delivered his requested messages.

  The motorcycle pulled up alongside the car.

  “Go time,” Terrance said.

  15

  The woman on the motorcycle pulled up next to Darius.

  She pulled out a gun.

  “Damn!” Darius ducked.

  I ducked too, jumping with every shot.

  Blam!

  Blam!

  Blam!

  The bullets struck the glass but bounced off. The glass glowed green.

  “Bulletproof glass,” Terrance said. “Ram her, Gordon!”

  Gordon veered into the next lane, but the woman weaved away and Gordon jumped back into the center.

  The woman nearly struck the curb, but she regained her balance and came for us again.

  Gordon revved.

  Terrance rolled down the window. The woman aimed her gun at him.

  Terrance let a gigantic blast off of his fingertips, knocking the gun out of her hand.

  The gun landed on the street and a box truck ran over it, igniting it. A nearby car ran off the road and into the grass, a flat tire steaming.

  The woman followed us as Terrance rolled up the window.

  “Nice shot!” I said.

  “It's not over yet,” Terrance said, pointing at the side mirror.

  The woman approached us again. Behind her, the blast circled through the sky like a boomerang and hurtled toward her back.

  The owl screeched and the woman looked back and swerved out of the way just in time. She jumped the curb and almost crashed into a palm tree.

  “Damn owl,” Terrance said.

  The crash didn't faze the woman. She burst into the parkway again, weaving between cars furiously.

  “She won’t quit,” I said. “She's coming up on your side, D.”

  She pulled alongside Darius, and he laughed at her.

  “The hell you gonna do now that you can't shoot us? Huh?” he asked, taunting her.

  She pressed a button on the motorcycle and spikes extended from the wheel.