Remnants of Magic by S. Ravynheart, S.A. Archer Read Free Book Online Page B

one of those annoying sounds that echoed in the brain and not just the ears. Malcolm winced, trying to ignore it as he mashed the buttons at a rapid-fire rate. “What is that? Car alarm?”
    “What’s what?” Bryce twisted his controller as if that could make his guy dodge for cover faster. “Got me in the leg, you creep!”
    “You don’t hear that? For real?” Malcolm paused the game. Even hunching his shoulders against the constant peal couldn’t stop the sound from jangling his nerves. “That whistle?”
    Bryce listened and then shook his head. “I don’t hear anything. It’s probably nothing. Come on.” He unpaused the game. A fresh explosion of noise covered most of the magic, but not the whistle.
    Malcolm hardly noticed when he dropped the controller. The first sparks of panic prickled all though him as he jumped up and yanked the power cord out of the wall, shutting up the telly. “Is that Kieran? Where is he?”
    “Hey! I was winning!” Bryce scowled.
    Malcolm turned in a circle, tilting his head this way and that, studying the magic around him. Through the walls and floor Malcolm saw glowing silhouettes, like seeing heat signatures, only his senses were geared to magic. Like the flames that flickered around Bryce constantly, though no one else saw that. Or the healing sparkles that twinkled around Dawn in the flat across from them. On the floors below them, the fey mingled in a sea of rainbow hues. Trip’s darkness floated around her like scarves on the wind as she danced in the club with a group of elves. “He’s not in the club.” Malcolm twisted around. “Where’s that sound coming from?” He blinked as the sudden silence startled him. “It just stopped. Only…” The whistle had been wrong. Desperate, like panic. “Where’s Donovan? He’s not in the club either. Is Kieran with him?”
    “Who cares?” Bryce reached to plug the telly back in, but Malcolm stepped on the cord. “Will you move your bloody foot?” He swatted at Malcolm’s leg.
    “No! Just wait.” Malcolm listened harder, but couldn’t hear anything of Kieran over the clatter filtering up from the fey in the Glamour Club. Even scrunching his eyes closed tight and gripping the sides of his head, Malcolm couldn’t sift through the racket. Sometimes it was all too much; never-ending chaos that blared and flashed and buffeted against him. A minute ago, he’d been able to ignore it. Now it was everywhere around him and inside him and pick-pick-picking at him. And right now, reaching for the itty, bittiest thread through all the masses of magic crowding and pounding into his mind made him want to scream.
    Instead, he ran from it. Malcolm raced from Bryce’s flat and up the flight of steps to the roof. A little further from the magic roiling up from the fey in the club. Bryce chased him though, with his ever-present crackle of flame and campfire scent. Malcolm spun in a full circle, actively listening, but hearing nothing of Kieran’s sound magic. Which was wicked bad. Kieran was one noisy chap, constantly buzzing or humming or whirring or something else loud and usually obnoxious. Only now…
    Nothing.
    Heart pounding, panic mounting, Malcolm shook his head. “Kie’s in trouble. I know it. Where’s Donovan?”
    “How would I know?” Exasperated and impatient and totally not getting it. “Malcolm, forget it. You’re freaking out over nothing.”
    Everybody always thought it was nothing. Like Malcolm was some kind of nutter. “It’s not nothing!” Malcolm snatched Bryce by the front of his shirt and jerked him close. “Call Donovan!”

Chapter Two

    “Must have been a werewolf, don’t you think, to do this much damage to a body?” The wood elf crouched by the remains of his brethren, poking at the almost indistinguishable carrion with the end of a stick. Even without using Glamour he could have passed easily enough for a human with the tweed driving cap and untrimmed hair covering his ears. He and his