Bounty: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Solumancer Cycle Book 3)

by J. C. Staudt

  We hop in and skid down the street as Bob and Chuck reach the porch. The roof of the dilapidated house bursts open in a storm of splintering wood, and the two homunculi dive over the railing into the tall grass as the remaining structure collapses. Without a detection spell, demons in the mortal realm are invisible to normals like me, so I can only imagine Malanx’s massive form piercing the sky.

  “What the fuck just happened back there?” Steve asks, veering down the pockmarked road in sober dismay.

  “I just summoned myself a bargaining chip.”

  “Oh yeah? And what about me? What about the sex-demon you said you’d free me from?”

  “All in good time, Steve-O.”

  “This is fucked, man. I thought you were gonna get Jenz to undo it.”

  “You won’t be seeing much of Jenz anymore. I’d guess Malanx squashed him pretty good. That binding circle wasn’t big enough for the both of them. And if the demon didn’t get him, the house did.”

  Steve grimaces in panic. “What am I gonna do?”

  “First, drop me off at Gryphon Enterprises. I’ll fix your succubus problem. Just bear with me.”

  He grunts his displeasure, but drives on.

  I open Jenz’s notebook and begin to read. As spellbooks go, it’s complete junk—the ramblings of a petty hedge sorcerer with half a memory. Searching these scrawlings for a tidbit of useful magic would be like digging through cow pies looking for diamonds. I’ll hold onto the notebook anyway, in case I ever find myself with nothing better to do.

  The car’s clock says it’s 7:28pm. Fifteen minutes ‘til go-time.

  “What do you need at Gryphon Enterprises?” Steve asks.

  “I’ve got a fairy’s bluff to call.”

  “Fairies are real too?” Steve is geeking out, as excited as he is pissed off.

  I look at him. “You really believe in all this stuff, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know how anyone couldn’t.”

  “Lots of people don’t. Almost all of them, in fact. That’s why we’re going to Gryphon Enterprises. Fairies run the media, and Malanx is going to help us take them down.”

  “That demon is following us?”

  “Yeah. Hold on, listen.”

  Steve pulls up to a stoplight and rolls down the windows.

  The Porsche’s engine purrs.

  Cars pass down the street.

  Silence.

  Then the first rumble. A footstep, deep and distant.

  A gap, then another.

  “Wish I had a glass of water,” I say. “Big Mama T-rex is on her way.”

  “She sounds big.”

  “Height of a telephone pole. Weight of an elephant. Bare minimum.”

  “Holy shit. Why do you need a demon to take down a bunch of fairies?”

  “Demons and fairies have only one thing in common. How much they hate each other. Fairies don’t want people like you knowing they exist. They want to control what you believe. Demons want the opposite. If no one believes in them, they lose their power. They need worshippers and summoners; people who dabble in the dark arts and embrace the vices they feed on.”

  “This is blowing my mind.”

  “Well the light’s green, so go while your mind’s getting blown.”

  He peels out and heads toward downtown.

  Along the way I tell him about the portals opening on Zug Island tonight, then pull out my cell and take down his number. “I’ll get in touch when this is all over. We’ll figure things out then.”

  “When it’s over? No way. I’m coming with you.”

  “You’re a normal. This isn’t your fight.”

  “Aren’t you a normal?”

  “Technically. But I’m also a wizard. Can you cast a spell?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Can you shoot a gun?”

  “I have before.”

  “What skills do you bring to the table, Steve? How are you going to survive once the paranormal activity starts?”

  “I work for the largest disposables manufacturer in the world,” Steve says as he turns down the street toward the Gryphon campus. “The business arena is as cutthroat as it gets. I know a few things about surviving.”

  “We’ll see how selling biodegradable sneakers translates into dodging fairy eldritch magic, huh?”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Park along the street on the edge of campus here. That parking garage may not be long for this world.”

  I get out as soon as Steve stops the car and cross the outer lawn without waiting for him. I want to give the sidhe plenty of time to think about my proposal before Malanx arrives. Steve grabs something out of his glove box before he gets out and runs to catch up. We pass the stacked-stone Gryphon Media Complex sign I’d like to blow up, catchy slogan and all, and arrive in the lobby of Elona Anarian’s building to find the elevators locked down for the evening.

  “Something I can help you with?” asks the skinny boggart in a security guard’s uniform at the front desk.

  “We’re here to talk to the sidhe of the Council.”

  “The sidhe’s gone home for the evening.”

  “Call her. She’ll want to come back.”

  The boggart looks at me strangely. “What for?”

  I rest my elbows on the counter and lean forward, looming over him. “Let me ask you a question. When they trained you as a security guard, did they teach you what to do if demons ever attacked the complex?”

  He laughs. “That’ll never happen. This whole place is warded against demons.”

  “What about a giant demon who also happens to be one of the Seven Lords of the Underworld?”

  Another laugh. “You know what it would take to summon one of the Seven?”

  “A prince’s blood and a sorcerer with amnesia, apparently. Do me a favor. Take a look out that window and tell me what you see.”

  The boggart turns toward the soaring plate-glass panes along the side of the building. There’s a tremor in the distance. He glances at his half-empty soda bottle on the desk as it ripples. I put a hand on his shoulder and raise a detection spell. Boggart magic is weak and unstable, and I have to squint to see the traces of residue around me.

  From behind the nearest high-rise strolls the Demon Princess Malanx, tall and sturdy as an old oak tree. When she lifts her big bare foot, the remains of a certain dreadlocked sorcerer are smeared across the bottom. She stops in front of Steve’s Porsche at the border of the Gryphon Enterprises campus and waits, as patiently as I’ve ever seen a demon wait before, perhaps sensing the suppressive magic field surrounding the place. Behind her, black shapes scrabble and skitter across every building in sight, covering a swath several blocks wide.

  I turn to the guard. “As I mentioned, you’ll want to get Elona Anarian on the phone. Quickly.”

  Chapter 28

  “Oh, Mr. Cadigan,” says Elona Anarian in condescending tones. “What have you done to yourself?”

  “It’s what I’m about to do that you should be concerned about.”

  “The entirety of the Gryphon Media Complex is w—”

  “Warded against demons. Yeah, I heard. How many demons is it warded against? Have you ever tested the limits in a live field exercise? Because I can make that happen.”

  She huffs, breath crackling over the line. “What do you want?”

  “Call off Irys Montrovia and her dhampirs. Break your pact with her, and see that she never interferes with another crossing again.”

  “Do you suppose the unruly half-blood would suffer to obey my commands? Irys and I have an agreement, Mr. Cadigan, not an employment contract. She is under my protection, not my jurisdiction. She came to me with an offer; I’ve done nothing but provide her a layer of insurance.”

  “How is Irys finding the portals? Are you telling her?”

  “I wish I had the capability. Alas, no. That’s something you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

  “Break your deal with her. Give my friends and me a fair s
hot in this fight. If you can’t call her off, fine. But you should know Malanx won’t be happy if you refuse.”

  “Malanx,” Elona echoes. “Did you say Malanx? The Demon Princess?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Actually, I didn’t. Which is why I asked.”

  “Malanx is here, at your borders, waiting on my signal. If she and her earthbound demons take this complex, you’re going to have problems making your regularly scheduled broadcasts. And in case you had any faith in your wards protecting the complex, I’ll blow them wide open and let the demons in myself. How does that sound?”

  “Like you’ve backed me into a corner. Impressive work, Mr. Cadigan. Very well. I agree to your terms.”

  “Not good enough. You get down here, and you shake my hand. We strike a pact, or the demons tear this place to the ground. You have ten minutes.”

  I hand the receiver back to the boggart, who holds it to his ear. A string of sharp foreign words buzzes through the earpiece, followed by a click.

  “She’s c-coming here,” the boggart stammers.

  “She’d better be. She’s got nine minutes and forty-six seconds.”

  “How long until the first portal opens?” Steve asks.

  “Any minute now.”

  We wait. A single point of starlight grows to blinding brilliance as Elona floats toward us on the clouds. She drifts down through the city and alights on the concrete walkway outside the building. The demons cover their eyes and gnash their teeth and hiss.

  The glow subsides as Elona enters the building. “You’ve put on quite a show, Mr. Cadigan. I’d be impressed if I were not so thoroughly irritated. What, exactly, are you trying to accomplish here?”

  “Life for the thousands of othersiders you’d rather see wiped out.”

  “Have your friends the Guardians not murdered their share of new arrivals?”

  “Only those deemed to be a threat. The ones who cross over peacefully aren’t harmed, and many are taken to Misthaven for treatment.”

  Elona scoffs. “Misthaven. An asylum for the mad and the demented. Any creature requiring psychological treatment should be presumed a danger to us all.”

  “My father received treatment at that facility. He went on to do great things in this world.”

  “Like running his hospital into the ground and forming a misfit band of troublemakers?”

  “He used that hospital to help a lot of people. And he put the Guardians in place to protect—”

  “To protect the pathways between this world and the next. I am familiar with the rhetoric.”

  “Then shake my hand. Break your pact with Irys and let the Guardians go back to doing what they do.”

  “I will not violate an honorbound pact.”

  “Why did you even bother coming, then?”

  “To dissuade you from this course. You may hold the upper hand now, but Malanx will not espouse you forever. I can see you hunted down and locked away for the rest of your pathetic mortal life. Unlike your friend Calyxto, you don’t have another realm to flee into.”

  Not quite. But I do have another identity to flee into. I set my jaw and hold fast to my stubborn intentions. “So the pact means more to you than saving Gryphon Enterprises?”

  The sidhe looks me in the eye. “You are rather unwise, for a wizard.”

  “That’s what they tell me.”

  “We could’ve been allies, you and I. We could’ve helped each other. I could’ve made you powerful.”

  “Bullshit. I am powerful. And no amount of increase is worth the future you want.”

  “You’ve put me in a difficult place.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Are you certain this is how you wish to move forward?”

  “I am. And take away this sleeping curse while you’re at it.”

  “As you wish. I vow to break my pact with Irys Montrovia. I further vow to command Sister Wygella to release you and your dragon from dream-slavery, effective immediately.” The sidhe extends a hand.

  I accept it so fast I slap her five.

  “My promise to Irys is broken,” Elona says, withdrawing her hand, “yet here is a promise I intend to keep. You will pay for making a pactbreaker of me, Cade Cadigan. You are now an enemy of the Fae Council. The moment Malanx leaves your side, I swear by the powers granted me as high sidhe, you will be brought to account for your actions this night.”

  “Fuck you very much. Let’s go, Steve. We’ve got a party to crash.”

  We exit the building while Elona shouts after us. The boggart security guard is cowering behind the desk, hoping to escape her notice. I feel sorry for the guy. He’s going to feel sick later from the detection spell I cast—if Elona doesn’t put the hurt on him sooner. I guess he’s kind of asking for it, working for a fascist regime like Gryphon Enterprises.

  Steve breaks into a sprint toward his Porsche, but I call out to stop him. “Hold on there, killer. Zug Island is an island. We’re not getting there by car. There’s a bridge, but it’s closed off to traffic.”

  “How do we get there?”

  “We’ll hitch a ride.”

  Malanx awaits us at the border of Gryphon’s property line. I can’t see her anymore, but I can sense her presence and that of her demonic armies beyond the sidewalk on which Steve and I are standing. I lift my voice and speak to her. “The sidhe has agreed to our terms, so we’re going to do battle with a dhampir named Irys Montrovia who’s been murdering othersiders.”

  “We will fight for you, Cade Cadigan,” says Malanx, her voice booming from the emptiness.

  Steve’s eyes grow big as saucers.

  “Non-stop service to Zug Island, please.”

  The Demon Princess’s kneecaps creak as she crouches to snatch us off the ground, one in each hand. Steve hollers in surprise, but once we’re floating fifteen feet above the street he looks at me with a broad smile and holds on tight. Malanx stomps into motion, circumventing the Gryphon campus on her way toward the riverside. The ground shakes beneath us, cool night air rippling through our hair as her long strides bear us hence. I relish the battle to come, but most of all I relish the thought of finally going to sleep without facing a neverending nightmare.

  “What do you think?” I ask.

  “This is fucking badass, man,” Steve shouts.

  New Detroit is a weird place, but it isn’t every night an invisible demon lord takes a stroll through downtown while double-fisting a pair of mortals. Cars swerve and skid at the sight of Steve and I hovering in the air, legs dangling. Malanx avoids them deftly, and not a single car crashes into the invisible roadblock of her feet.

  We plunge into the Rouge River, a canal about seventy yards wide separating Zug Island from the mainland. Malanx wades in until the soles of our shoes are skimming the water’s surface. Her demon hordes splash in after her, a hailstorm of unseen bodies stretching hundreds of yards across. We emerge onto a lightly forested patch of ground bordering the industrial wasteland covering the rest of the island. Battle cries and chugging firearms fill the night, and the blue-violet glow of an open portal trims the foliage ahead.

  When Malanx sets us on the ground, the wind of a hundred charging demons rushes past us. It’s terrifying to think there are this many demons living in the city, minor though they may be. Their numbers are a sign of her vast power and influence in the mortal realm.

  “What’s going on over there?” Steve asks, nodding toward the treeline.

  “A whole lot of carnage, I’ll bet. Stay here and keep your head down.”

  “Screw that,” he says. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

  I’m surprised at his bravery. Maybe the guy isn’t so bad. “Here’s what you do. Find my friend Desdemona. She’s tall and thin, with pale skin and black hair. She’ll be wearing either a police uniform or gray urban combat fatigues. Tell her you’re a friend of mine, and warn her that Malanx’s demons are killing dhampirs. She’ll want to stay out of their way.”

  “Dhampirs, as in
half-vampires?”

  “You know your stuff.”

  Steve shrugs. “It’s a hobby.”

  “Your parents’ fault for sheltering you, right?”

  “Entirely.”

  “Be careful out there.”

  Steve nods and heads off through the underbrush.

  I advance to the next break in the treeline, where a long gravel road borders a field of piled petcoke, the noxious petroleum-carbon byproduct of Zug Island’s three blast furnaces. Malanx’s demons break over the mounds of coal-gray stone, churning up thick dust clouds with their footfalls. I take a running start across the gravel road and clamber up the first slope, fighting the sediment as it slides away beneath me and tries to swallow my feet. The choking clouds make me cough and wheeze, and I claw my way to the top with watery eyes and constricted lungs.

  Adrenaline surges through me as I look out over the barren gray battlefield, where portals open and close by the handful. I can’t believe how many dhampirs are here. Irys has brought the full strength of her host, and they’re killing everything in sight.

  Chapter 29

  A portal spits a pair of damp gnomes onto the petcoke before shrinking to a close. The gnomes stand and dust themselves off, only to smear black grime across their clothing. A black-masked figure looms behind them, opening their skulls with a pair of headshots. The gnomes collapse and slide motionless to the base of the mound.

  I mutter a curse as I scan the horizon. Not a friend in sight. Malanx’s demons rush the masked figure, knocking her off her feet. She screams and struggles as invisible teeth and claws tear her apart. All across the petcoke field, demonic footprints converge on Irys’s dhampirs to engage them in similar violent fashion.

  There’s a gut-wrenching screech behind me, and I whirl. Black blood spouts across the gravel road from somewhere beyond the clouds of obscuring dust. A breeze pushes through, clearing my line of sight to where a tree beside the road holds the two halves of an invisible corpse in its gnarled branches, dripping with black ichor. I blink, certain I’m hallucinating.