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  I smiled back and clapped him on the shoulder. "See you soon, Marc."

  "Jamie," Marc said, a warning note ringing in his voice.

  I stopped and turned around. I was already lost to the darkness, but he stood framed by light.

  "If you go back on your word, I will make sure you spend the rest of your days suffering for it."

  I met his cold eyes. I didn't doubt a word.

  I rushed back to headquarters, but it was no use. My key card still worked, but the place was cold, empty and dark. They had shipped out everything. I knew that it would have been, but I had nowhere else to start.

  I went into the galley kitchen and perked up. Finally, a spot of good luck. My original clothes had been left. I shrugged off the remains of the suit and borrowed sweatpants and sunk into the comfort of my favourite jeans, a t-shirt, and hoodie.

  I rifled through my wallet, as I did most days, hoping to find it magically refilled with money, but, as usual, today wasn't the day.

  "Forty-three pounds and seventeen pence. Wow." I had my bank cards, too, but as a wanted criminal, it was rule number one never to give anyone your location by using them. They were off limits.

  The heavens opened as I left. I growled with frustration. It was not my day. I pulled my hood up and trudged through the streets, into the first phone box I found. It wasn't one of those pretty, iconic, red ones that people associate with London. No such luck. This one was smashed up and covered in so much graffiti I couldn't even read the price list. It didn't matter. Nick could pay. I dialed the code to reverse the charge and held the phone to my ear with bated breath.

  Nick had two phones, like we all did. One for social use and one for work use. My work phone was lying smashed in the bottom of a confused person's bin. My real phone was conspicuously absent from headquarters. It was lucky I knew his social number by heart. He'd be silly enough to pick it up, too. We only accepted calls on work phones from named contacts in the organisation, but social phones were free game.

  "Hello?" The voice crackled slightly.

  "Nick, it's Jamie," I said, rushing before he put the phone down. "I'm in deep trouble, I need help! Where are you?"

  There was silence on the other end. He was curious enough not to hang the phone up, then.

  "Hey, sweetie," he cooed. "One second, boss," he said in the background. "It's the missus."

  I knew Nick was in-between girlfriends, but I was too glad he was entertaining me to put in a snide comment.

  "All right, go," he said.

  "Thanks. Firstly, I'm still really pissed off at you for stabbing me in the back," I let some of my genuine frustrations out. "But I need your help. Pick me up; I need to get out of the city."

  Nick sighed, a rush of static down the earpiece that deafened me. "We know where you've been."

  "That's exactly why I need to get out! They granted me bail, but only just. I'm cleared out of funds. If I don't get out now, they're coming for me."

  There was a long silence.

  "Where are you now?"

  "Near the old headquarters."

  "Too dangerous. Get yourself to Brixton. I'll meet you outside the tube station. One hour."

  The line went dead.

  True to his word, he picked me up. I began my campaign the moment I shut the car door.

  "Nick, you know what Cleo's doing is wrong."

  "I know," he replied to my surprise, his frown illuminated in sickly orange by the passing street lamps.

  "Then why are you following her?"

  "I want out, Jamie." His eyes flicked to me. "I'm sick of running all the time. I want enough money to get myself out of the country and start afresh, somewhere better. I can give Jasmine the life she deserves."

  Jasmine was his daughter. I'd never seen her because he rarely had custody, but he'd told me enough about her. Two years old and in the care of her negligent mother. He had a point. With a useless mum who couldn't cook a can of beans and a convicted criminal for a dad, she deserved better.

  "That's not going to solve it, Nick. You'll be running everywhere you go. You need to clean yourself up, get custody of her — legally — and make a better life for yourself. There's no easy ticket out of this, man. Think of this: if you screw this up, you'll never have that."

  "We won't screw it up," he replied. He sounded confident, but then, he was a good bluffer.

  I shrugged. "Sure. You might. You might not. Do you trust Cleo to see you right? You know as well as I do she'll cut you loose if she can."

  Nick didn't reply. We sped south out of London. I had no idea where I was until the ‘Welcome to Dartford’ sign whizzed past us and Nick turned off the main road.

  Temple Hill could have been a mirror of every other council estate in the country: the same dreary vision of bleak houses, graffiti, and disillusionment. We pulled up behind a parade of shops. I followed Nick upstairs and through a door painted the most offensive shade of brown I'd ever seen. Cleo waited inside, arms folded and staring out of the window. Her fingers ceased drumming on her arms as we entered.

  "You have a lot of explaining to do." Her eyes narrowed.

  Before I could reply, Nick spoke. "Don't worry. I can vouch for him. He's had a rough day, cut him some slack."

  I flashed Nick a tired smile. It had been a long day.

  "Where's everyone else?" he asked.

  "I sent them ahead. Three at Gatwick, five at Heathrow, the rest on their way to Stansted."

  "What about us?"

  Cleo regarded us with a long stare before she replied. "The channel crossing. We have tickets on tomorrow's first Eurostar to Paris and then we fly to Tel Aviv."

  My less than impressed expression must have caught her attention, for Cleo scowled at me.

  "What?" she snapped.

  "Israel? Really?" I didn't need to say anymore. Even being a fugitive in London was safer than heading out to that hotbed of conflict. I was in no rush to fall asleep to the hail of gunfire and shelling every night again.

  "No one's forcing you to come."

  "We shouldn't even be leaving." I stood my ground and crossed my arms.

  Cleo rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself. We need money to survive. This is a means to an end. No one gets hurt, and we get rich. Everybody wins."

  "You might keep telling yourself that, but I don't buy a word of it. I recovered the box, so you have no claim on it, anyway." I held out my hand.

  She laughed a clear, tinkling peal of delight. "Oh, no, Jamie. I don't think so."

  I started forwards, but stopped dead. From the back of her high-waisted skirt, she drew a pistol. It glinted casually as she flexed her fingers around it.

  "Steady on, Cleo," Nick stammered.

  "I've changed my mind," said Cleo. "We're leaving now. You're staying here, Jamie. I don't trust you. Pack it up, Nick."

  I froze. I could see the device in an open briefcase behind her on the table. I could have pushed past her to grab it, but even if she didn't shoot me first, she'd be between me and the exit. I was powerless.

  Nick edged around her. I could tell the gun threw him, too, from the way his eyes locked on it. I didn't react, focusing on Cleo as I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

  He tossed items into the case with a shaking hand. "Okay, we're good to go."

  Cleo looked around, glanced at the device sitting neatly in a foam bed carved to fit it and nodded. Nick closed the lid and swiped the latches shut before handing it to her. She swapped him for the gun. He held it as though it might explode.

  "Make sure he doesn't follow us. Meet me at the car." She swept out, ignoring me. I was already dead to her.

  "What a cow," I muttered.

  Nick held the gun loosely in his hand. We stared at each other, words flying unsaid between us.

  "Guess this is it then, mate," I said ruefully. I was trying to be brave about it, but it felt bad. I didn't believe he would do it, if I was honest. It didn't feel like my time to die, especially not at his hands.

 
"It is." He grinned at me with his characteristic cocky attitude. "But not for us."

  “Oh?” I hadn’t unraveled whether we were on the same side still. A flicker of hope remained.

  “You’re right. This isn’t the way.”

  "Thank God for that." My smile faded when a horn beeped outside.

  "We don't have time. We need to leave, now. Get somewhere safe. I'll ditch Cleo and find you."

  "No, stay with her,” I said. I’d had an idea. “We need someone on the inside. Listen, I need your phone. I have a friend who can help us. I’ll buy you a new one... Soon. This way, you’ll have a way to contact me, too."

  He pursed his lips, but tossed me his phone.

  "Cheers. See you soon, Nightwing," I replied, using his code name.

  "See you soon, Rogue." We both winced as he pumped a shot into the table. Nick dodged backwards from the shards of wood flying, and, with a devilish grin, ducked out of sight. He thundered down the stairs.

  After a minute, I followed and turned the opposite way as I reached the pavement.

  I just had one phone call to make, and everything hinged on it.

  "Zoe Stark?" I said as the recipient picked up.

  "Who wants to know?” It was her. I was both relieved and anxious.

  "Jamie Oxford."

  "You!" she screeched.

  I winced.

  "Talk fast, scumbag. Do you have any idea what I had to endure to get that box back safely? And you… you just swoop in and take it? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

  "Only too clearly. Look, I'm an ass, but I need your help. We both know I've stuffed up. I lost the box, but I know where it’s going. Want to get it back — together?"

  Static crackled down the phone as she huffed into her handset.

  "I suppose I don't really have a choice. But after this is done, I'm going to kill you."

  She wasn't serious, I hoped. Well, she hadn't killed me yet, and there had been enough years of threats. I liked to think of myself as the lovable rogue. Indiana Jones, if you will. She was a kick-ass Lara Croft, plus magic. Together, we could save the world, if only she'd succumb to my charms, but that was a battle for another day.

  I had no idea where I was, but I did have three things: forty-three pounds and seventeen pence to my name, the beginnings of a plan... and a head start.

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  Thanks for reading Rogue Magic. If you enjoyed it, please leave a review on Goodreads. These help us find new readers to bring to our Ley Line urban fantasy adventure world!

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  ~

  Want more?

  Relic Guardians Series

  By Meg Cowley & Victoria DeLuis

  Tomb Raider and Indiana Jones meet magic in this thrilling urban fantasy adventure series.

  Rogue Magic

  Ancient Magic

  Hidden Magic

  More titles coming soon!

  ~

  Books by Meg Cowley

  Books of Caledan

  A fast-paced high fantasy described as ‘Game of Thrones for teenagers’.

  The First Crown

  The Tainted Crown

  The Brooding Crown

  The Shattered Crown

  Books of Caledan Boxset

  ~

  Books by Victoria DeLuis

  Independent Necromancer’s Bureau

  An exciting urban mystery series keeping order beyond the grave.

  A Matter of Death

  Til Death

  More titles coming soon!

  Anthologies

  Rebels & Runes

  Alchemy & Arcana

  Ancient

  Magic

  Relic Guardians Book One

  Meg Cowley

  Victoria DeLuis

  Meet Zoe Stark, one of the heroines of the Relic Guardians series, in Ancient Magic!

  Can a cursed relic be saved from the clutches of evil before it is used to wreak devastation?

  Kukulkan’s Skull should never have existed; nothing more than a legendary relic with the death powers of a god. Deep in the ancient Mexican jungles, it has been found… and stolen.

  Zoe Stark, witch and magical relic hunter, must discover who the true enemy is in time to save the skull from being used for great evil.

  Time is running out, for the Day of the Dead fast approaches, when the skull will be at the zenith of its devastating power. Zoe finds much more is at stake as she chases a cold trail of murder and magic.

  Her own life is in danger as the mastermind behind the theft silences those who get too close, but she cannot give up, for to fail, would be to doom millions of innocent lives.

  If Zoe fails, the skull’s first victim will be her...

  Fans of Lara Croft and Indiana Jones will enjoy this fast-paced urban fantasy adventure series filled with magic, action, and kick-ass characters.

  ~ A Preview ~

  ~

  The noise from the phone was an explosion of sound as it rang at high volume right next to my head. It shocked me from sleep and it took a few seconds for the adrenaline rush to pass, and my confused brain to process where I was. The phone flashed next to me, its screen brightly lit, still ringing incessantly. The time on the face read the small hours of the morning, and the name flashed up: ‘Director’. I groaned. No choice. I answered.

  “Duncan, c’mon,” I moaned at him, about to complain about personal boundaries, but he cut me off.

  “Zoe, there’s no time. I need you here now.” I stilled at the tone of his voice; low, and urgent. “There’s been an incident in Mexico. It can’t wait until Monday. Top secret classification. How soon can you be here?”

  I was exhausted and annoyed, and part of me longed to sink back into my pit of a bed and shut the world out for another half a day, but I couldn’t resist. Anything with the highest level classified status always piqued my interest; I knew it was Something Big, which usually meant very dangerous, highly cool, and extremely exciting.

  “Twenty minutes.”

  “My office. See you soon.” Duncan terminated the call and I scrambled into action. I dressed as fast as I could, repacked my travel bag – swapping out my dirty clothes for clean ones – and after one last look at Emily, left.

  I arrived one minute early. Duncan awaited me.

  “What’s Top Secret then, Duncan?”

  “How familiar are you with Mayan lore?” He didn’t reply with a joke, and that’s when I realised how serious it was.

  I shrugged and shook my head, blank faced.

  “The ruins of a Mayan city were discovered two months ago in the Yucatan peninsula, close to Chichén Itzá, one of the centres of Mayan civilisation. It’s been kept top secret for obvious reasons; looting of Mayan ruins is rampant. Well, the looters found it anyway. They’ve taken everything they could carry, including a magical artefact of potential significant power – and danger. Of course, the Mexicans want to recover the lot, but your focus is that relic. The head of their organisation has asked for my best operative on the case at once.”

  “What’s the relic?”

  “A myth that didn’t exist… until it was found.” Duncan’s expression darkened. “The Kukulkan Skull. It is said to be the skull of the feathered serpent god Kukulkan himself, bestowed with the power of life and death. It’s most powerful on the Day of the Dead, November the second, and in the hands of the wrong Magicai could be used to cause devastation; dealing death to the living and giving life to the dead on a grand scale.”

  “A zombie uprising?” I gawked. That was a new one – or at least once I hadn’t heard in a while. Few relics were so powerful. And if it were most powerful on the Day of the Dead… we were into October now. I didn’t have long, it would seem.

  Duncan frowned at my crude description. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t put it like that. The thefts occurred only a few hours ago; I’m to get you out there as fast as I can, and your Mexican counterpart will fill you
in on the rest.”

  He passed me a pile of papers on his counter. “You fly to Cancun in four hours. Here are your tickets, itinerary, and the information sent over from the Mexican Secretary of Culture’s office.”

  I flicked through the packet briefly: lots of ‘Top Secret’ stamps. Itinerary. Two plane tickets; looked like I was flying to Atlanta and then to Cancun on an economy ticket. I suppressed a sigh. You’d think with all the frequent flyer miles I racked up, they’d upgrade me to First every so often, but apparently not. Twelve more hours in ‘cattle class’ it was, then.

  “You’d best leave now. Your contact Juan will meet you at Cancun airport. He’ll be your guide and translator.” He gave me a warning glance.

  “Yes, yes,” I said, with a hint of snap to my tone. “I’ll try to keep out of trouble.”

  ~

  Continue reading Ancient Magic

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  About Meg Cowley

  Visit Meg’s website.

  Meg is a fantasy author and illustrator who loves all things dragons and magic.

  She lives in Yorkshire, England with her husband and two cats Jet and Pixie.

  Amongst other writing & illustration projects, Meg is currently working on her Morgana Chronicles series.

  For writing snippets and to see behind the scenes, visit her blog.

  You can connect with Meg on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

  ~

  About Victoria DeLuis

  Visit Victoria’s website.

  Victoria DeLuis is an avid fantasy reader, who enjoys writing Urban Fantasy and paranormal/cosy mysteries.

  She lives in Wales with her husband, daughter, three cats and one dog.

  Amongst other writings, Victoria is currently working on The Independent Necromancer's Bureau Series, and The Shifter Academy Series.

  For fun flash fiction and other snippets, please check out Victoria's blog.