by J. P. Rice
I dissolved my weapon. This needed to be personal. Bitch had been trying to kill me for almost a century.
First, I kneeled on her upper arms, pinning her down. Then, I lunged for her neck, wrapping my hands around her throat and applying pressure. She flopped around, choking and gagging as foamy white spittle jumped out of her mouth.
I relinquished my invisibility spell. The Bounty Huntress needed to see the person who was killing her.
I stared into her clouded, watery eyes and turned her line around on her. “Gotcha, bitch.”
She clawed at my hands and face ferociously, but my grip didn’t loosen. I continued choking her violently and started ramming her head against the wooden floor. She gargled grossly, her eyes went dead and her body stopped moving.
I didn’t stop. She could be trying to fool me into releasing her too early. I strangled the lifeless body for another twenty seconds to be certain the bitch was dead. Finally, I loosened my grip, and she didn’t move. I let go of her neck and backed away. As I stared at the body, I remembered I had unfinished business to handle.
I checked the Huntress’s pockets, and it wasn’t there. Then I noticed the gold chain around her neck. She was wearing it? I was more pleased about having killed her now. I searched for the clasp and unhooked it. Moving her dead head around, I removed my necklace and watched the golden half-heart locket pop out of her collar.
A smile was starting to take shape on my face, when I remembered the situation. I jumped up and shoved a heavy printer aside on the table in front of me. The Morrigan had her back to me. I worked my way around the table, ready to help her with Flidais.
To my surprise, the Morrigan was standing over Flidais’s still body. Holding her arms at her sides, Mo barked, “Yeah, bitch. How’d that work out for you? Told you not to fuck with me.”
Her gloating was cut short when the side door to the room flew open. My head jerked to the left, and I noticed the outline of a big man. Merlin bolted into the room and extended his staff toward the Morrigan. I watched the translucent ripple of magic cut through the stale air, knocking the bits of dust out of its path.
The Morrigan rounded toward the door and the wave of magic crashed into her body, lifted her off the ground, and slammed her into the wall. The small of her back hit first, then her head whipped back and cracked into the wall, causing a loud thud and a stressed dent.
She collapsed to the ground in a heap, kicking up a cloud of dust. I quickly stuffed the locket into the waistband of my pants and charged at Merlin.
The wizard spun to meet me and extended his staff, stopping me in my tracks. Using telekinesis, Merlin definitely held the upper hand. The soles of my shoes squeaked against the hardwood floor as the force pushed me back. Merlin kept peeking over his shoulder at the Morrigan, who was still down for the count.
However, his constant head movements were weakening his attack. I fought back with some mind magic of my own. It caused me to stop as Merlin and I locked horns in a mental battle.
Overwhelmingly overmatched in this arena, I knew what I had to do and screamed across the room, “A woman had to save your ass back at Machu Picchu.” I hadn’t had sex in over five-hundred-years, but I was about to mind-fook the shit out of Merlin.
Merlin’s lips trembled and an electric anger surged in his eyes. I’d hit him in his most vulnerable spot. His pride. If I could get his mind to drift from total concentration, Merlin’s attack would be useless.
“Remember when Balor was about to smash you with his giant fist until I shoved your scared ass out of the way?”
His already rosy cheeks darkened and his nostrils flared. My magic started overtaking him and pushing him backward. Yeah, motherfooker. A slow smile took form on my face as his sandals screeched against the floor, leaving little trails of smoke.
In a sudden move, Merlin rapped his staff on the ground, and the floor quaked. My knees buckled and I crashed to my knees as the violent shaking slowed before finally coming to a stop. As I regained my bearings, a blur of burgundy darted out the doorway.
I yelled, “That’s right, you fooking coward. Go tell my mom what happened, you pansy.”
Feeling energized by running off a mighty wizard, I’d almost forgotten about my fallen comrade. I raced over to the Morrigan and slid down on my knees next to her. I stuck my finger under her nostrils and waited. Nothing. Son of a bitch.
I put my finger on the side of her neck. Surely she had a pulse. A few moments passed and I felt nothing. Panic snaked through my body. The Goddess of Death couldn’t die. Could she?
I grabbed for her wrist in a panic, my heart racing out of control. How was I going to explain all this to the Celtic Gods? I put my ear to her chest and listened for a heartbeat. Nothing.
“Hey, I just like you as a friend,” a manly voice broke the silence.
I jumped back and saw a huge smile on the Morrigan’s face. “You bitch. Why did you let me do that? I almost had a heart attack.” I slapped her on the shoulder.
I heard the door slam open and wheeled around, ready to kick some more ass. A large figure in a hooded obsidian cloak entered the room, looked at the carnage, and exclaimed, “Holy shit. Is that who I think that is over there?” He pointed his hickory walking stick at Danu and Flidais.
“You know it,” the Morrigan said. “I’m taking care of them. I guess you’re here for her.” She thumbed toward the Bounty Huntress.
“Indeed,” he answered and looked at me, impressed I was still standing. Cassius’s gaunt facial features covered with blue-tinted skin made him look like a dead body. Short silver hair poked out of his hood as he knelt next to the Bounty Huntress.
Cassius tapped his walking stick on the ground seven times. The grainy image of the Bounty Huntress’s soul sat up and separated from her body. Cassius extended a bony hand.
The Bounty Huntress’s confused soul asked, “What’s going on? Where am I going?”
“Worry not, child. I’m here to take you home,” Cassius reassured her.
The groggy Bounty Huntress’s soul put her hand in the Grim Reaper’s and rose to her feet.
Cassius said, “There we are. We have but a short trip ahead of us.”
“Okay,” the soul agreed. Holding hands, Cassius led her out the door through which he had come. He peered over his shoulder and gave a quick nod as the black cloak trailing his footsteps disappeared.
A loud groaning sound caught my attention and refocused me. Warren. I spun around and saw that he was crawling on his belly toward the open door.
I flashed across the room and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You aren’t going anywhere. And look around. All your bodyguards are dead.”
Warren sighed and moaned as he stood up. “I suppose I shall be following them to the grave.”
“That depends. You better spill your guts if you want to live,” I told him.
He leaned forward and put his hands on a table. “Where do I even start? I suppose I should start by saying that I don’t hate you in the least. With that said, there is no shortage of beings who hate you.”
“I know all this.” I smelled fire and noticed smoke pouring in through the hole Merlin had created with his blue fireball.
As I questioned Warren, the Morrigan went over to the window and whistled through the opening, alerting her crows that there was work that needed done.
Warren stood up straight and scratched the back of his head. “I’m not sure you understand the extent. Your mother and Merlin have been pushing for your demise for a very long time from the way they talk. They set up the Supreme Magic Council specifically to put you down after your amazing display at Machu Picchu. They say you are the number one threat to destroy the world.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, get to the part of how they made the death cards,” I said.
“It’s why she married me. Probably the sole reason. I should’ve known better. Why would a Goddess want a stupid technomancer? I was being used the whole time. Why couldn’t I se
e it?” he cried, shaking his fist in the air.
I said, “I feel really awful about all that, but cut to the chase.”
Warren nodded and continued, “We’ve been trying to pull this off for years. Adding pieces here and there. Then a few months ago, all the stars aligned and we saw signs that it could work, but we needed a special material that is only available in the underworld of Hel.”
That explained a lot.
“What is my mother offering people to get involved with this?” I asked.
Warren explained, “She has promised everyone that they could print the cards of their enemies as payment for joining. When she found out you pissed off the Norse, Hel became a ripe target. And when we found out she could provide the materials we needed, it seemed like the perfect match.”
“Fookin’ Hel,” I mumbled.
Warren peered around the room at the destruction. He fanned some of the smoke away and said, “She was supposed to be here today, but she hurt her knee and couldn’t make it. Anyway, Loki sent her to kill you and she went to Merlin first because she knew the wizard would know your whereabouts. Loki is none too happy with you, it should seem. Breaking up the deal for the spear with your shock and awe tactics has angered many fallen Gods.”
“I know that too. It seems to be my specialty. So, Hel just provided some materials for your printers?” I asked, trying to put all the pieces of this puzzle together.
Warren said, “No, she provided the final necessary element. An underworld Goddess. She helped seal the spell that produced the first successful death card. From there, the project was simple. Produce a death card for you and that would be that.”
He stared through the hole in the plywood covering the window. “But Heavens to Betsy, we couldn’t make it work. Try as we might, there was always a complication. So we attempted the procedure with other individuals and that panned out. From the rituals, some cards were produced with random names, different from the names we had summoned. That’s where your father’s card comes in.”
I fought back the urge to choke him out, so I could hear the rest of the story. But dammit, it was hard.
Flapping sounds filled my ears and broke my concentration. I turned and saw a stream of crows pouring in through the opening in the plywood. The Morrigan’s helpers flew over to the bodies of Danu and Flidais. Working in unison, they gripped the bodies and lifted them unsteadily off the ground.
The Morrigan instructed, “Take them back to Clara Spiritus. I’ll be back soon to take care of their souls.”
As the crows carried the Goddess’s bodies away and cleared away some of the smoke in the room, I turned back to Warren.
His eyes bulged at the sight of Mo’s crows and their handiwork. He shook his head and faced me. “When your mother saw Nuada’s death card, she hatched the plan to frame you for the murder. She had a crew following you for days. But she hadn’t expected your grand escape. She thought you would stay with the body long enough for her henchmen to get there, pinning the murder on you.”
Warren coughed and swallowed a few times before he spoke with a scratchy voice, “Then that fell through because your friend over there crusaded for you and convinced the Celtic Gods that you had nothing to do with Nuada’s murder. You owe her your life. They were ready to string you up or hand you off to Merlin.”
I put my arm around Mo and rubbed the back of her shoulder. “Thanks, pal.”
“So basically this whole operation was an elaborate way to take out Junipher?” asked the Morrigan.
Warren nodded in agreement. “Precisely. When the framing failed, they moved the operation here. Everyone knew you’d find out about it and they were hoping you wouldn’t be able to resist your anger. With Merlin’s defense mechanisms, they wanted to lure you in while the place was occupied. I know they weren’t expecting her to show up.” He tipped his forehead at Mo.
“Chalk that up to gross miscalculation. How many people were involved in this?” I wanted to know.
He narrowed his eyes in thought. “About a baker’s dozen. Mostly Gods and Goddesses. I felt like the bell of the ball being a mortal human.”
Something seized my attention and an image appeared in my head. The running brook. The man kneeling on the grassy bank with his back turned. Washing my father’s golden armor. His hand rising to the top of his head and pulling back the hood.
The man turned toward me as he drew back the brown material. The lucid face that I had envisioned a thousand miles away was sitting right in front of me.
A light red mist clouded my vision. My hands sprang forward and grabbed hold of Warren’s fat neck. He gagged, and I applied more pressure, my thumbs digging in as I tried to crush his Adam’s apple. He tried to resist, and we crashed to the ground. My lips trembled as I inhaled through my nose and claimed revenge for my father.
The Morrigan gripped my forearm and tried to tear me away, her sharp nails sinking into my flesh. She said, “We need him to testify to the other Gods.”
I didn’t want to stop. As his face turned a dark shade of purple, I wanted nothing more than to avenge my father’s death. But this wasn’t a worthy opponent. He was a puppet to my mother. Typical that she hadn’t shown her face and sent other people in her stead. Always avoiding danger.
And in typical cowardly fashion, she was the driving force in the death of my father.
The Morrigan used the butt of her hand to smack me in the head. “Hey. Let’s go. Fire’s spreading.”
I released my killer grip and Warren gasped for air, as smoke poured in through the hole in the wall. In the haze, we both jumped to our feet.
A voice sounded from the window. “You shouldn’t have opened your mouth.”
Through the lingering smoke, I saw Merlin’s face outside the busted plywood. Hastily, I tried to whip up some magic to counter his attack. But before the Morrigan or I could act, Merlin pointed his staff at us and sent an invisible force across the room.
I didn’t know what to do to defend myself so I dropped to the ground and the Morrigan followed suit. I tried to grab Warren on my way down, but I missed. The technomancer took the brunt of the magical attack and groaned in pain.
The magic lifted him up and tossed him across the room, his body spinning and rotating. He slammed headfirst into the wall and collapsed to the ground. I jumped up and searched through the smoke for the legendary wizard. The Morrigan hopped up and made a beeline for the window.
From across the room, she yelled, “He’s gone. We need to drag Warren outside.”
I spun in a circle and noticed the fire was expanding. As the harsh smoke made my eyes water, I grabbed Warren’s ankles and pulled him toward the exit. I dragged him through a couple of rooms and out the front door.
I got him outside and let go of his feet. I rubbed my eyes, and it took me a few seconds to correct my vision. When everything came into focus, I saw the Morrigan kneeling next to Warren, checking his pulse. She looked up at me and shook her head.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Now the Gods will never believe us,” I said and stared at the burning warehouse with smoke pouring out of the cardboard covered windows. The sounds of firetruck sirens filled the winter air.
The Morrigan said, “We better get ghost.”
“What about him?” I pointed at Warren.
“Someone is already on the way for him. We better leave before the firetrucks show up,” the Morrigan suggested. “And you need some of Goibniu’s juice cuz you’re looking old.”
I reached for my wrinkled face.
“You need a lift to get there?” she asked.
“No. I’m good.” I had the Sphinx to help me out.
We walked toward the street and the Morrigan waved to someone. Osiris was approaching rapidly wearing his classic Egyptian attire. He rushed over to Warren, attempting to free his soul before the authorities showed up.
As we walked away from the flaming warehouse and headed for my ride, I couldn’t get over how cowardly Merlin was with all his sneak atta
cks. He and my mother were made for each other.
Chapter 30
FRESH OFF A TRIP TO Pleasure Island to drink the elixir of youth, I walked into the Triskele Room in Clara Spiritus and received a light golf clap from the Celtic Gods and other attendees. Smiling, I waved and made eye contact with the Morrigan. I knew this wouldn’t be an induction ceremony, and with the recent deaths of a few members, I hadn’t expected anything elaborate.
I became engulfed in a conversation with Lugh, but all I could think about were the recent events.
Mabon, the Youthful God, had backed up the Morrigan’s story to the rest of the Gods. Mabon had overheard a juicy conversation between Merlin and Flidais and relayed it to his counterparts. It put Merlin on the outs with the Celtic crew. The Morrigan had told me that she had heard whispers of the Magic Council being dissolved or Merlin being stripped of his association.
As great as that was, the Celtic pantheon hadn’t heard the entire story about how the operation had been set up to kill me. They’d only found out the details of a plan to set the final spells to activate the false death cards.
Staying in line with her character, Brighid had righteously denied being part of the dark plan. She had tried to claim that I was behind everything. That round of applause probably killed her. The Morrigan had told me that the situation was causing serious tension among the Gods. Good. Cherries on top were always nice.
The fire in the warehouse had destroyed all the death card printers. With Warren the tech wizard dead, the brains behind the operation had been eliminated. Two Goddesses who were part of the operation had also died. I had a good feeling no one would be attempting to reproduce death cards again.
My dragons still hadn’t budged, and I worried about their destiny. Perhaps I was being impatient. When I thought about it, I’d only found them a few weeks ago. With my father’s passing, I wanted to start a new family. I needed a new family.
I still hadn’t been able to talk to Thor. Loki wanted me dead so that I wouldn’t interfere with any of his future plans. I had to watch my back for Norse hitmen until I made contact with the God of Thunder.
