Magic After Dark: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

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Magic After Dark: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 62

by Margo Bond Collins


  “Something like that.”

  She took the compass out again, then led the way across the street, watching the needle closely. “I’ve cast a spell on it,” she said. “It seems to be working, doesn’t it?” She looked up at me.

  I shrugged, though I had noticed a white shine on her compass. Something was happening.

  “This way.” She led the way to the right. “Lionel would say that it’s impossible.”

  “Lionel?” I asked. “So you and Lionel are part of this mage team?”

  “Yes. Do you like the name? The mage team. I came up with it.”

  “I’m not a mage.”

  “Alessa’s not a mage either.”

  “Okay. So what’s the purpose of this team?”

  “Have you been to the underworld?” she asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “Do you want the underworld to come here?”

  “Here, where?”

  “Here on Earth.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Danielle stopped suddenly. She moved her hand back and forth, reading the compass, then continued forward again. “That’s why you are here. The mage team has to make sure the underworld stays on the other side of the swirl and doesn’t take over Earth.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t understand how that might happen, but Danielle seemed determined to explain things in a roundabout way. “And what’s my task in this mission?”

  “Gabriel thinks we need a gypsy, one of the helsing warriors.” She checked the compass again and started to cross the street. I put out my hand to slow her, allowing a car to flash past, then accompanied her across. She led the way down a narrow, empty street.

  “So it’s Gabriel, Alessa, Lionel, and you in this ma—” I broke off, becoming aware of the lurching gait of a person on the opposite sidewalk.

  Danielle nodded. “You would make five. To match the name, four would have been better. But the mission is the most important thing, and Gabriel—”

  “Danielle,” I interrupted. “That compass of yours wouldn’t be seeking out zombies by any chance.”

  “Well, any creature of the underworld or demon power.” She came to sudden stop. “How did you know?”

  I pointed out the man lurching toward us. “Because I think it found one.”

  Chapter 3

  Danielle’s eyes widened. “Are you sure he’s a zombie? Maybe he’s just drunk.”

  “Pretty sure.” The gait was distinctive. “I’ll know for certain in a few moments.” The black aura was difficult to see in the dark.

  “It worked.” She stared at her compass in surprise for a moment, then quickly stuffed it into her hoodie pocket. She unzipped the opposite pocket and took out a small leather-bound book, opened it, and began to leaf through it. “I’ve got a spell that can kill zombies. Is kill the proper word when dealing with undead?”

  “Doesn’t matter what word you use, just as long as you get it to stop moving.” I could see the black aura now, as well as the blood on its jacket from wounds on the side of its neck. Before being killed, he had been a middle-aged man with wispy black hair, and from his uniform, he had worked as a security guard. “We don’t need your spell, though. I can handle it.” Zombies were slow and not particularly strong, and I had been killing them since I was ten.

  Danielle came to the page she was looking for and quickly ran her finger down the words as she read. “No, leave it to me. I want to try out this spell.”

  “If you wish.” I had started toward the zombie, but I now backed away. Her magic had found it, so it was only right that she got finish it off.

  I thought back to that day so long ago when I’d seen my first zombies. It had been my tenth birthday, and we had been camping in the desert. When night fell, Dagger had led me away from the camp to an open pit and ordered me to climb in. I shivered; I had nightmares for months after, and, over a decade later, it was still one of my most vivid memories.

  They emerged from the ground, three of them, sand streaming from their clothes and hair as they lurched into a standing position. The smell of rotting flesh stung my nostrils. I backed away, my heart thudding against my ribcage. Ribbons of skin peeled from their faces. The nearest reached for me, then stilled. I watched as its eye turned to goo, and a scorpion wiggled out of the socket and scrambled down its face.

  A screech from Danielle drew me back to the present. Her leather-bound book lay on the ground, its pages rustling in the breeze. Her mouth opened and closed as she chanted a spell I couldn’t hear. The zombie grabbed her by the arm and flung her to the ground.

  Harps gave my hair a tug. You should help her.

  It’s only a single zombie. Even a beginner mage should be able to deal with that.

  If she can’t? Harps asked.

  There’s only one way to learn, I thought.

  I had learned the hard way. I had almost died, but I had learned.

  When the zombies finally stopped moving, I slumped against the dirt wall, my hands sticky with blood. I wasn’t sure how long it had taken me to kill all three of them—it seemed like forever, yet had probably only been minutes. Several bite wounds leaked blood, the worse of which was on my left calf. “Dagger!” I screamed. “It’s done.”

  The only reply was my own scream echoing against the walls of the tomb.

  As the adrenaline of battle faded, tiredness dragged at my arms, and my injuries began to sting. Several times I climbed the dirt wall of the tomb only to fall back down, my wounds flaring brighter with pain each time. I tried once more, this time slipping near the top. My side slammed down on a lifeless zombie arm on the pit floor, and I twisted over, letting out a roar of pain.

  Gathering all my strength, I climbed again, finally making it to the top. I rolled onto my back, panting. I shouted for Dagger and Flint and Crystal until my throat was hoarse. The stars, bright and impossibly distant, stared forlornly down at me. No one came.

  I allowed my eyes to focus on the scene in front of me once more. Danielle was having no luck in getting her spells to work. The zombie grabbed her neck and tossed her backward. She hit a wall and crumpled to the ground.

  Seriously, Harps thought. You’re just going to watch? I think she has been bitten.

  I’ve been bitten before. It’s curable. The zombie charged at Danielle, and she scrambled out of the way, letting it bang its face against the wall behind her. A chunk of flesh fell from the zombie’s cheek. Danielle scooped her spellbook off the ground and backed away to give herself space and time. Paper tore as she frantically flicked through the pages.

  The cold night air of the desert bit deep into my bones. The dirt beneath my calf became damp with blood, and I knew I would never last until dawn. I blew on my fingers to get some feeling into them, then ripped a sleeve off my shirt. I wrapped it around my calf just below the knee, then, with a sudden jerk, wrenched it tight. The agony drew a ragged scream that lasted several long seconds. Tears squeezed out past eyelids clenched shut.

  When the pain faded to a bearable throb, I rolled onto my stomach, then forced myself onto my hands and knees. When I got to one knee, I looked around. Assuming Dagger, Flint, and Crystal were in camp, they were less than a mile away. Did I remember the way back? I hadn’t paid enough attention when Dagger had brought me, and in the inky blackness, every direction looked the same.

  Yet, all directions led to my death, except one.

  I made my decision, trusting my instincts. I pushed up onto two feet, leaning heavily on my less injured right side. I took a step. My left leg gave way beneath me and, with a cry, I collapsed to the ground. My vision swam. I wanted to close my eyes, to rest for just a moment, but I knew I couldn’t. Darkness surrounded me, but a deeper darkness was closer still.

  A final darkness.

  I rolled onto my belly, and got back on my hands and knees, and this time I didn’t try to stand.

  I crawled forward.

  “Slate!” Danielle cried. “Help me.” She lay face down on the ground w
ith the zombie crouched over her. It lifted her head and slammed her forehead against the concrete.

  I dashed across, lifted the zombie, and threw it away from her. It crashed against a wall. Harps bounded off my shoulder, getting out of the way.

  It struggled back to its feet. I walked across and shoved the zombie back to the ground. I punched its throat several times, embedding my knuckles further into its flesh each time. Blood splattered across my face. An arm reached for me, but I knocked it back, then punched the neck again.

  Because it had been barely dead when turned, the neck was tougher than I was used to. I dragged it to the curb, letting its head fall over the edge. I stomped down several times. Flesh and blood splattered up. Even with its head only barely attached to its body, its arms and legs still flopped about.

  My hunting knife would have been less messy, but I preferred to avoid using weapons whenever possible, so that when I needed to fight barehanded, I wouldn’t be found wanting. I put my foot on the zombie’s chest, bent down, and grabbed its head. Then I wrenched. The last bits of flesh and spine gave way, and I stumbled backward with the head in my hand. Its limbs spasmed one final time, then stilled.

  I crawled forever, and then kept going. Beyond forever. The ground had once felt like ice, but my hands and knees had become too numb to feel anything. My limbs jerked stiffly with each motion. A glimmer of red appeared on the horizon as night began to fade. I had to have gone more than a mile, which meant I had chosen the wrong direction, but still I kept going. Stopping meant death, and I wasn’t ready to accept death just yet.

  By the time I saw the first tent, I was almost upon it. I looked around in surprise. I had made it back to camp; my sense of direction hadn’t let me down after all. Dagger sat on a log, facing away from me. “Stand,” he said.

  “I can’t.”

  “Stand,” he repeated.

  I didn’t think it was possible, but from somewhere deep within me I summoned a final spark of energy. I stood.

  I swayed on my feet, leaning heavily on my right side, but I did not fall.

  “The undead are taken care of?” Dagger asked, standing, and finally turning to face me. As always, both eyes seemed to watch me—his good eye and the puckered scar where his right eye had once been.

  I nodded, biting down on my lip as a spasm of pain tore through my calf.

  He looked me up and down. “Best get you fixed up, then. Next time, less screaming. I’m training warriors here. You aren’t a child anymore.”

  A scuffling noise made me turn. A man wearing a business suit and carrying a briefcase had stopped at the end of the alleyway. Yielding to an impish urge, I lifted the zombie head high by the hair, letting its face become visible in a nearby street lamp.

  “Birthday present for you,” I said, thinking of my own tenth birthday present.

  The man gave a very girlish shriek, dropped his briefcase, and sprinted away. I smiled and tossed the head aside.

  My smile faded as I turned to Danielle. She sat on the sidewalk, hugging her knees. Her glasses were mangled, and tears streamed down her eyes. I crouched down by her side.

  She looked up. “What have I ever done to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were able to stop the monster with ease. Yet you just watched.”

  “I killed it for you.”

  “Only after it practically took me to pieces.”

  “I gave you a chance to deal with it. Isn’t that what you wanted? To handle it yourself?”

  “It smashed my face against the sidewalk. It bit me.” She shuddered. “It almost killed me.”

  I sensed Harps scampering close. You were right, Harps. I sighed. How was I supposed to have known how weak she’d be? I should have helped earlier.

  I’m always right. Harps reached out with his hand and touched Danielle’s sleeve.

  “Does he bite?” she asked.

  “I wish.”

  Danielle rubbed the back of Harps’s neck. He made a sound close to that of a purring cat, then climbed into her lap. Danielle cradled him, snuggling him to her chest.

  I never thought it was you who’d be the traitor, Harps.

  He poked his head over her arm and bared his teeth at me in a gleeful grin. I stuck my tongue out at him, then quickly shut my mouth when Danielle looked up.

  “Let’s get back to that apartment, find someone to tend those wounds,” I said. “You know what happens when zombie bites are allowed to fester.”

  She studied the wound on her shoulder and gave a little shiver.

  “Nothing to worry about.” Only untreated zombie bites caused the victim to become undead, and it’d take days for a small bite like that to take effect. Though, strangely, the wounds on the zombie I had just killed had been fresh ones. How had it turned so fast? “But we really should be going. Someone saw me with a zombie head, and I don’t want to have to explain all this to the police.”

  Danielle put Harps down and stood. She walked over to her spellbook, which lay spine up on the ground, and picked it up. Its pages were damp and torn. She gave it a quick shake to knock the worst of the dirt off it. “Maybe best to throw this away,” she said. Her voice came out low, and something struck me as immeasurably sad about how she looked at the damaged spellbook. Her shoulders slumped forward and she looked even more defeated than when she had curled up and wept. Finally, she sighed and pocketed the book, then moved across to the zombie’s corpse.

  Danielle bent over it, making a face as she wiped blood splatter off its chest, then pulled off an I.D. badge, cleaning it on her jeans. “Let’s find out where he worked before this happened to him. Shit!” She leaned closer, adjusting her mangled glasses. “He worked at the Dulane Building. Do you know what this means?”

  I shook my head. “I just arrived, remember?”

  “It means everything we’ve been working for might be for nothing. We were planning to raid the Dulane Building. So we could… Now we’ll probably be too late. The necro will get there first. Unless…” She started to run. “Maybe we have time. Quickly, we have to get back to Camp Danielle.”

  Although she ran, she didn’t move fast. Danielle’s running style was jerky with a lot of moving parts but not much forward motion. I remembered Crystal’s liquid grace as she dashed through the trees, and sighed. I hadn’t expected to be working with warriors of the caliber of my family when I had come to the city, but I had expected more than someone like Danielle.

  “This is urgent, right?” I called after her.

  She turned. “Yes. Weren’t you listening? We just have to hope Gabriel is back at the apartment. Even then, we are probably too late to do anything.”

  Harps, climb on and hang on tight. Regardless of the competence of the rest of this mage team, I would make sure we succeeded. The gypsy kings had decided the mission was worth doing, and Dagger had entrusted me with making sure it happened.

  Harps climbed up my leg and disappeared underneath my coat, squirming his way up until his head stuck out above the coat’s lapel.

  I raced forward, grabbing Danielle around the waist as I passed, and I lifted her up. She squealed. I adjusted how I held her, pulling her against my chest on the opposite side to Harps.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Danielle asked, an edge of panic in her voice. “Put me down now.”

  I ignored her, increasing speed as I dodged around pedestrians.

  As we came up to a junction with traffic going both ways in front of me, Danielle screamed out a warning. “Watch out!”

  Instead of slowing, I leaped, soaring over two cars with Danielle safely tucked under my arm. Below me, a taxi driver stared up through the windscreen in shock as he followed the arc of my jump. As I landed, I did a spin to avoid two women talking to each other, then sped up again.

  “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” Danielle’s breath came in fast, shallow gasps. Was she hyperventilating?

  I slowed, loosening my grip on her to make sure I wasn’t restricting her brea
thing. “We’re nearly there. Are you okay?”

  “Do you even know where we are going?”

  “I don’t get lost.” I remembered the long crawl through the desert. “You never know when remembering the way back will save your life. Here we are.” I placed Danielle down on the top the steps by the door to the apartment block.

  Upon touching down, she wobbled, and I stretched out my arms, ready to catch her. She took deep breaths until the momentary dizziness passed. Then she glared at me. “What’s wrong with you? You can’t just pick someone up like that and start running.”

  “You should unlock the door,” I told her.

  “Wouldn’t you prefer to just smash your way in?” she asked.

  I glanced at the door, and she slapped my arm. “You are actually thinking about it. God, I wasn’t serious. What kind of barbarian environment did you grow up in?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I probably don’t.” She fumbled inside her jeans pocket until she found her keys. Then she unlocked the door and led the way inside. “Surely you learned about the need to hide your abilities?”

  The elevator opened its doors and we both got in. She pressed the button for the seventh floor and the elevator shuddered upward.

  “You told me this was important. And earlier you told me the purpose of our team was to prevent the underworld from opening up on Earth. Surely that’s worth a few noncombatants seeing things they’ll probably convince themselves tomorrow was their imagination.”

  Danielle had lost much of her urgency. Perhaps she had exaggerated the urgency, still slightly hysterical from the fight with the zombie.

  “It is important. At least, I think it is. I don’t know. I hope Gabriel is back.” The elevator was old, and it made several weird sounds as it ascended. It was almost a surprise when it successfully stopped on the seventh floor.

  “Are you going to tell me the significance of the zombie being a security guard at the Dulane Building? You said we were planning to raid it. And something about a necromancer.”

 

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