Magical Midlife Meeting (Leveling Up #5)(43)

A couple of hours later, Austin, Brochan, and I walked down a small tunnel with low ceilings, dim lighting, and rough, slightly damp walls. It was a far cry from the tunnel leading to our rooms. Light fixtures hung from the ceiling on chains, weak magical flames flickering within them. There was supposedly an exit at the end, but the tunnel was much longer than the map suggested.

“Look at this,” Brochan whispered, always behind us but now slowing until he lagged.

I looked up from the map and glanced back. Brochan was pointing to a strip of lettering above a row of men’s portraits, surprisingly clean in this dank place.

“‘Wall of Death,’” he read.

Austin looked both ways down the tunnel and then back at me before stepping closer to Brochan. I waited for a moment, not really wanting to look, but curiosity got the better of me.

Shadows flickered across a dozen or so faces, all rendered in black-and-white photographs enclosed in cheap plastic frames. Each had a date below it, and I pushed in closer when I saw the last face.

“Kinsella,” I breathed out, pointing. There wasn’t a date associated with this one.

Austin pointed at others. “Frauchini. Cross. Stokes. All mages Elliot Graves killed in cold blood, or so I’ve heard.”

“But Kinsella?” I pushed in even closer to make absolutely sure.

“Yup—”

“Hah!” I spun and flung out my hands, but instead of a karate chop, I slung a blistering spell that crackled the air and burned through a man’s middle.

He flinched and looked down, but the spell had gone right through him—and kept right on going until it crashed against the tunnel’s soft turn and sent sparks into the air.

The man shimmered, like a hologram, turning around to see the damage the spell had wrought.

“I don’t smell or sense his presence,” Austin murmured, pushing away from me somewhat, eyes on the man and ready for action. He obviously didn’t want me to get hurt in the crossfire.

The man, about mid-thirties, with slicked-back black hair and pale blue eyes, surveyed me with a little smile, his hands lodged in his pockets.

“You don’t smell or sense me because”—he lowered to a whisper—“I’m not really here…” He smiled, smug and self-assured. His image flickered a little more, then wavered before mostly solidifying again. “I think I might like shifters best of all. I know, I know, it’s out of character for a mage.” He shrugged. “But you are correct, Sir Alpha. Nice watch, by the way.”

“Yours as well,” Austin replied. “A vintage guy, I see. That is one of the rarest finds on the planet.”

I glanced down at it, finding a vintage watch with a black leather band.

“How kind of you to notice. I stole it, of course. From…” The man pointed at the row of faces. “The man in the middle, there. Jacobson. He didn’t deserve it, and the crows in his employ wouldn’t have appreciated it.”

“You’re Elliot Graves,” I said, my anger bubbling up, hot and heady. Magic pulsed around me, eager to be used.

His focus was acute and his smile disarming. “Hello, Jacinta. Lovely to finally make your acquaintance.”

The slicked-back hair—I recognized it from the first time I’d seen him, the night I’d claimed Ivy House’s magic. He’d blown me a kiss that had turned into words. He’d had facial hair that night, but today he was clean-shaven. And the pale blue eyes—those belonged to a delivery guy about half this guy’s age. He’d delivered a note from Elliot Graves and then disappeared in his truck on the street. Clearly Elliot Graves could change his appearance at will.

He’d also attacked me, tried to have me kidnapped, had his people spy on me, killed my—

“No, no, no!” He bent and pushed out his hands, but my spell had already been let loose. It passed straight through him again, cracking into the wall on the other side of the tunnel. A deep rumble rolled beneath my feet. Elliot looked at the ceiling. “Keep doing that and you’ll bring this mountain down on top of us.”

“Why does it go right through you?” I asked, taking a step forward. Could an illusion be this lifelike?

Austin stepped with me, staying even.

Elliot laughed softly, shaking his head. “You are something. You’ve grown in might since I last…” His speech hitched, but then he spread his hands wide. “Let’s just get it out there, shall we? Since I last spied on you.”

A boot scraped the ground. Austin spread his fingers in a stop motion, keeping Brochan from doing whatever a moving boot indicated.

“Ah yes, the new shifter. Broken Sue, wasn’t it? How do you like your Rolex?”

“It’ll fit perfectly around my dick,” Brochan growled.

I widened my eyes. That was unexpected. And strangely hilarious.

Elliot took a step back and then shivered. “I’m not even there in the flesh and that freaked me out. You’re quite the power player. Austin Steele has found a protégé.”

“Why aren’t you in the… How aren’t you in the flesh?” I asked.

He winked at me. “It’s a pretty common practice for those of us in the know . And with enough power, of course. One of the mages at this party is too weak to manage it. I invited him to attend so as to make a fool of him. It’s a personal grudge. Petty, some might say, but…” He shrugged. “And then there’s you—you have plenty of power but not enough experience.”