Summoner 2

by Eric Vall

  “It’s not your fault, Gryff. You meant well.” She sighed angrily. “My family is, well, you know.” She sighed again.

  “That’s no excuse.” I shook my head. “And I’m sorry your family treats you like that. I... no one should ever have to deal with that.”

  She nodded but didn’t answer immediately. She swiped at her eyes and brought the little bear closer to her face. “Nathan gave this to me when we were little. He’d been a street crier at the time and had saved up money for a week to go buy this for me from a shop in the artisan district.” She paused as her voice hitched. I brought her closer to me and leaned my head against hers.

  Finding her voice again, she pressed on. “Now he’s gone because Logan got him mixed up with the wrong people. And sometimes, my family acts like he was never here. Like it wasn’t Logan’s fault, but oh, they love him so much because he gives them some fucking money for their damn terrible habits. So I’m the bad one for leaving, against my will I might add, for a better life in the military.” Layla stopped again, this time to sob. “They don’t give a damn about me. They just need someone to blame, someone to bring down to make themselves feel better.”

  She flitted between sorrow and rage, and so did I. I wanted to march back to her house and beat the hell out of them, but that wouldn’t have helped anything. So, I pulled Layla into me, wrapped my arms tightly around her, and held her.

  “You don’t need their approval, Layla, okay?” I pronounced. “Fuck them. You have a new family, me and Braden, and there are plenty of others at the Academy that care about you. You don’t need to keep people that don’t give a damn about you in your life.” I let her pull back so I could look her in the eyes. I held her face in my hands and offered her the sincerest smile I could muster. “Blood doesn’t make a family. Love does.”

  Her lips trembled, and she began to cry in earnest as she buried her face into my chest. She cried and cried, and I kept holding her all throughout. We might have stood there for hours, if not for the slurring, growling voice that interrupted our moment.

  “Well, lookie what we have ere’ gents?”

  Layla started against me as she shifted to glance toward the voice. I looked up at the same time to see that we had company, a group of unsavory looking fellows that I feared weren’t here just to ask for directions.

  Chapter 10

  There were five of them. Large, ugly, and clad in tattered clothes and black leather armor, they didn’t look like a friendly bunch. They fanned out around us and closed in.

  The speaker directly in front of us sneered. He had a fat nose and a nasty scar that ran below his eyes and along his nose like he took a knife slash to the face. He sounded like he was drunk, but his rigid movement and hyper-focused gaze told me that he was very much sober.

  The goons around us chuckled, sure that they’d caught their prey in their trap. Layla tensed next to me as she subtly leaned in, her fingers intertwined with mine. It was hard for me to tell if she was scared or determined as she glared back at the men.

  “What do you want?” she asked with a nervous hitch in her voice.

  The scarred thug wagged a finger at her. “You must be Bethel’s li’l sis, right?” The way a shudder ran through her gave him his answer. He chuckled. “I reckon you are.”

  Layla grimaced. “You didn’t answer my question. What do you want?”

  The goons prowled around us like wolves amongst sheep, ready to pounce, but I was sure they wouldn’t until their leader gave the signal. His smile grew wider. It was plain that polishing his teeth wasn’t a priority as he was missing a few teeth, and those that remained were a sickly yellow. He pulled out a knife and twirled it in his grip.

  “We hear you brother is out the joint.” The thug’s eyes drifted up and down his knife as he spoke. “We’d simply like a word with him.”

  “He owes you money?” she asked.

  “That’s part of it, love,” the leader said with a grin as his eyes snapped up to her.

  Layla let go of my hand and took a step toward the man. “I can promise you that he doesn’t have much money to offer.”

  The scarred bastard chuckled again, and this time, he allowed his eyes to wander the length of her body. “Oh, we’re quite sure he ain’t got the swag we’re lookin’ for. We’re well aware of his… bad habits.”

  “Then I don’t see what you want,” Layla demanded, hands on her hips, her eyes defiant, and I stood with her with a glare. I didn’t know all the facts of her family’s situation, but I was going to stand with her, especially against these brutes.

  The thug came to stand a step away from her. He towered over Layla, a mound of muscle and a whole lot of ugly. Layla didn’t cower though. That didn’t surprise me. Yes, she was less than enthusiastic about fighting monsters, but these type of monsters… these she had no problem standing up to. Five on two wasn’t good odds normally, but these were common thugs and we were trained fighters. If all else failed, we also had our magic.

  “We just wanna’ let him know how much we miss him and that he needs to pay up soon.” The goon took a dangerous step right into Layla’s personal space. Then he gripped her chin in his hand and tilted her head up. “Besides, there are some things that we can… take as collateral.” He winked, and his meaning was crystal clear… and I was done listening.

  “Shove off.” I pushed the man hard away from Layla, and sent him stumbling back. “Touch her again, and you’ll lose your hand.”

  The leader chuckled wickedly as he straightened up and gave his knife another twirl. “That wasn’t smart, friend.”

  With that, he lunged at me with a thrust of his knife. But he was slow and sloppy, and I was an excellent fighter. I dodged his blow, caught his arm, gave it a twist, and with all the force I could muster, broke his elbow. He screamed and collapsed to the ground. Then he curled into a ball and whimpered.

  His men were hesitant and stared at us in confusion. That wasn’t surprising, I didn’t expect thugs to be too bright. The boss cradled his ruined arm to his stomach. The bone just barely broke the skin, and little lines of blood ran down his hairy forearm. He staggered onto one knee and looked around at his men, his eyes aflame with hate.

  “What are you idiots standin’ round for?” he demanded, the pain evident in his voice. “Kill these fucks!”

  What last hope I had that these asses would just fuck off was over as like good little minions, they closed in on us. As Layla and I put up our guards, I wondered if the city guard would drop by, but from what Layla had said about them in the past, I had my doubts. No, we had to handle this by ourselves.

  As I stepped forward and dropped the leader into unconsciousness with a right cross, the one behind me barreled into me and put me in a headlock. He was big and strong, nearly the same size as Braden, but he was untrained and gave me too much room to use my arms. I elbowed him in the gut three times in quick succession, and as his breath exploded from his lips in a pained puff, his grip loosened. I kicked my leg back as I grabbed hold of his arm and flipped him over my shoulder. As he slammed onto the street at my feet, his head bounced painfully off the ground.

  I looked up in time to see another thug slam Layla against the wall, one hand on her neck and the other arm pressed against her chest. He licked his lips, and as he leaned in toward, she kicked him in the groin so hard I practically felt it.

  He squealed and released her as he crumpled to the ground. Then she coughed and massaged at her throat with one hand while she punched him hard in the jaw with the other.

  That was my girl.

  I wanted to move toward her so we could fight back-to-back and minimize the thugs’ numerical advantage, but before I could, one of the thugs lunged at me. I dove out of the way, and as I came up on my feet another thug tackled me.

  Before I knew it, the bastard was atop me, and as he tried to pin my arms to the ground with his knees so he could pummel me, I utilized the same counterattack I’d used on Nia when she’d tried something similar. With
a surge of strength, I threw him off before he could get a shot in.

  His breath whooshed out of him as he tumbled forward, and I used the time to slip out of his grip and leap to my feet. He turned toward me as he tried to scramble backward and fell on his butt just in time to catch my foot with his face. His head snapped to the side, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  That was two down. However, the goon I’d flipped earlier had recovered and came at me again. In the corner of my eye, I saw Layla fighting with the one who had lunged at me earlier, but I wasn’t worried. Besides, I had my own dance partner to deal with.

  We traded blows for a few moments. He was a much better striker than a grappler, I’d give him that, but I was even better and had superior conditioning. As he huffed and puffed from just this short brawl, I saw my chance, ducked under a wild hook, and punched him in the ribs. He winced and swung wide, but the punch was slow and weak. I parried it, grabbed his arm, and used the momentum of his swing to slam him face first into the brick wall behind us.

  He hit with a wet crack, and as he turned back toward me, his eyes unfocused, I knew that he was likely done, but there was no need to take chances. I grabbed him by his forehead and shoved his head hard against the wall with a loud thud. That did it. He was out before he slumped to the ground, and a smear of blood trailed down from his head from where it had hit the stones.

  I turned back to find Layla standing over the last one as she kicked him repeatedly in the stomach before she finished him off with a swift kick in the head that made his body go limp.

  “They…” she said between gulps of air. “They picked the wrong night to fuck with me.”

  Layla’s face was a storm of anger. Her lips were bloody from where she must have taken a punch, but that only made her look more fearsome, especially with her hair loose and wild like a lion’s mane. Though she still seethed with rage, she also looked radiant in victory.

  I crossed the space to her and put an arm on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” Other than her bleeding lip, I didn’t see anything serious, but I also wasn’t a healer. She shook her head as she grimaced.

  “Nothing about this is okay, Gryff.” Her words were sharp and angry, and I nodded slowly. She was right, of course. Just then, the door to her home banged open and out came her brother Logan, his brows knitted with frustration.

  “What the hell is going on out here?” he demanded. That answer was answered quickly as his eyes surveyed the scene. He turned pale and he looked like he had been wounded instead of us.

  “Maker…” he whispered.

  He descended the steps and knelt next to one of the goons as his eyes traveled from their face to their clothes and then to Layla. It was then that he noticed her face and mine as well. All the remaining color drained from him, taking him from pale to sheet white. Tentatively, Logan stood and raised his hand to Layla’s face.

  “Shit, I didn’t mean for you to get involved in this,” he croaked, his voice tinged in regret. Gone was the disgust and annoyance he’d shown all day. “I’m sorry.”

  Those were the wrong words. Layla snapped. Though she was small, Logan wasn’t exactly muscular. She grabbed him the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall. He yelped in surprise.

  “You’re a fucking asshole, Logan. Do you know that?” Her words were venomous, and her gaze was straight up murderous.

  Logan gulped. “Aye, I’ve been told that once or twice.”

  Layla growled and pushed him back. She walked amongst the unconscious bodies and muttered curses. When she came to their leader, she paused, snarled, and gave him a good kick in the side. He didn’t even twitch, still passed out from my punch. I rarely saw her this mad, but I had to admit I was glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of her ire.

  She put her arms out and spun around slowly. “These bastards came here for you,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

  “I gathered that,” Logan said.

  I crossed my arms and glowered at him. “You don’t seem particularly shocked.”

  He shrugged. “I owe a lot of people money.” It appeared his nonchalant, shitty self was back and on the defensive.

  “Yeah, we know,” Layla spat. She stormed up to him and shoved a finger in his face. “They were going to take me as collateral, and Maker knows what else.”

  Logan blanched again and rubbed his jaw. “I…”

  “Yeah, I know. You’re fucking sorry.” Layla threw her hands up and walked away from her brother. I expected her to punch him in the face any second now, and I was looking forward to it. Layla stopped by the leader again and turned her raging gaze back to her brother. “Who are these men, Logan?”

  Logan gulped and walked over to the boss. As soon as he saw the scarred face, Logan’s face pinched with worry. It was obvious that he knew who this was.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered.

  “I take it you recognize him?” Layla asked, her anger only barely stamped down under her control.

  Her brother nodded, unable to look at her. “That there’s Bando Sark. He’s one of the main lieutenants of the Gutter Drakes.”

  “Gutter Drakes?” I asked, an eyebrow raised. That sounded like a ridiculous name to me.

  “They’re a gang,” Layla answered, her eyes still locked on Logan.

  “I figured that,” I said with a scratch of my head. “But some more specifics would be good.”

  Logan dropped to the ground and sat, arms draped over his knees. “They’re ruthless. They deal a lot in drugs mostly, though they also are heavily involved in extortion, racketeering, and, of course, loan sharking.”

  “And I guess that’s what got you in trouble?” I asked as I raised an eyebrow.

  He nodded. “I have what you might call a gambling addiction.”

  “You think?” Layla snorted in derision. “You sold out your own fucking brother because of it.”

  “I said I was sorry!” he shouted, his voice quivering.

  Layla slapped him hard, and the sound of it echoed off the bricks. His head snapped to the side as he crumbled in a heap, his cheek bright red as he cowered. Layla stood over him, her whole body tensed and primed to explode.

  “He’s dead because of you!” she wailed as her voice cracked and tears glistened in her eyes.

  Logan put his hand out and sucked in some air. “He knew what he was getting himself into.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Layla lunged for her brother with the snarl of a monster, but I caught her right before she could tear into him. I pulled her to me and held her close.

  “I understand your anger, but we need him conscious to give us information about the Drakes,” I soothed. “You can beat him to a pulp later.”

  She growled against me and pushed off me.

  “I’m fine,” she snarled, though I didn’t believe that for a single second. Still, she didn’t try to attack her brother again. Her fury wasn’t gone though, as she unleashed a scalding look at him. Layla put a finger in his face, right between his eyes, and he gulped hard.

  “Nathan joined the Drakes to keep the heat off of you and to earn some money to help pay off your debts,” Layla spat, “but you just kept on gambling and gambling and gambling.” Her voice hitched, and tears started to flow in earnest. It broke me to see her in so much pain. “Those bastards came here just like they did tonight and took him, and you did nothing. When you didn’t pay, they killed Nathan.”

  Logan slumped. “I never meant for--”

  “And then they came for me!” she roared. “At least, I assume now that they were Drakes. That was when my magic first manifested. I thought they were random thugs, but now I’m thinking they were your fault too.”

  Logan didn’t deny that accusation, so I supposed that meant it was true.

  Layla continued her beratement. “And meanwhile, when my brother is barely dead in the ground, you get your dumbass arrested for petty theft.” She spit on the ground near his feet and walked away from him. Her arms tremble
d, her fingers clenched into white-knuckled fists.

  I went over to Layla and gripped her shoulder. I pulled her to me and she rested her head on my shoulder briefly. Eyes closed, she breathed me in and calmed herself. Once she wasn’t so fiery, she strode back over to her brother. Now, her stare was ice cold.

  “Where are they?” Layla demanded as she knelt in front of her brother and pulled him close to her by the collar of his shirt. They were nose to nose.

  He licked his lips and considered the question. “I-I’m… I’m fairly certain that their main hideout is on Mill Street. A string of abandoned warehouses that they’ve commandeered for their own use.”

  Their eyes locked for a solid ten seconds before Layla shoved her brother away. “Thanks.” Then she strode out of the alley and out onto the street. “Be sure to fetch a guard so they can collect this lot before they come to.”

  With that, she turned the corner and disappeared. I gave her brother one last look. He sat there, stunned and silent, so I reiterated what his sister said about the guards, and when he nodded, I followed after Layla.

  She strode ahead of me with a determined gait. She had short legs, but she flew down the way and I had to jog to catch her. There were a few people out and about, but one look at Layla had them steering well clear of her. I imagined she had a right murderous look about her. When I finally caught her, I grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around to face me.

  “Hey, hey,” I said. “Slow down.” Her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were stained by tears. That deadly glare was there, but it lessened as she took me in. “What are you planning to do, Layla?”

  “I’m going to get justice for Nathan.”

  I frowned at her. “That’s not exactly answering the question.”

  “I’m going to kill them, alright!” she yelled and threw her hands out. “I’m going to make sure they can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

  I wasn’t crazy about her line of thought. “Are you sure about that? Who knows how many men they have? And killing for revenge? Is that the path you wish to go down?”