Enchanted Twist: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Scions of Magic Book 7)

by TR Cameron

  Her hair had been bound and threaded through a ring at the back of the protective collar she wore around her neck. Finally, the hilt of a sword rode over her right shoulder. It was the size of the weapons of the nobility and was similar to the one she’d used in her ascent to Champion.

  She was ready and her people were ready. Somewhere, Rion Grisham thought he was ready too, but he was wrong. It was time to show him how big a mistake he’d made. She pressed the button to contact all her subordinates and snapped the command.

  “Go. Go now. No one stops until the Zatoras are no more.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Danna chose to deal with the snipers herself so no one else would be up there to present a risk to Ozahl. However, the way they’d been positioned and the unexpected guards she’d seen climb up the side of the cathedral required a change of plan. She’d hoped that she and the mage could simply wait on the roof while the chaos ensued below and then, depending on whose side won, that one could enter at the end to help with the mop-up while the other disappeared.

  It had been a good strategy but Grisham’s paranoia had screwed it up. Instead of appearing and wiping them out, she summoned invisible force barriers and held them directly between the two sniper positions at the front of the building and the people below. She ducked behind a chimney and only exposed enough of herself to watch the shooters so she could be sure to keep the magic in place.

  From her vantage point, she could also see the crowd in Jackson Square begin to move in response to Usha’s command. The men they’d seeded among the citizens shouted and pushed as they instigated the kind of virulent response their plans called for. It was like watching the ripples from several stones thrown into a pond as the anger and motion spread. When two ripples met, the speed of those involved increased. In moments, the whole mass of people—probably eighty at least—began to stride toward the entrance to the cathedral.

  Across the large green space and in the shadow of the building that ran perpendicular to the church and formed one boundary of the square, figures darted forward but remained low to avoid detection. Usha’s plan called for sending the frustrated mob in as a diversion while her people advanced on the periphery. They’d identified the Zatoras’ outer defensive layer some time before, and as soon as the group in the middle began to move, the outliers would have been eliminated. Those who watched the other approaches would find their efforts futile. The Atlantean leader had decided to put all her resources in one place and relied on the distraction to keep them safe during their approach.

  Shouts emanated from the area of the cathedral stairs as the guards there threatened the oncoming mass of people. That only served to shift them from a fast walk into a run. The sniper rifles barked but the bullets struck the force shields, stopped, and fell, ineffective and unnoticed, to the ground below. Danna pushed more magic into the barriers with a grin at the frustration the shooters doubtless felt. The crowd below flowed out of her line of sight and she knew it would be only moments before blood would begin to spill—which was fine as long as it wasn’t hers, Ozahl’s, or Usha’s.

  Only a couple more minutes of this before the fight will move inside, and I can make sure it works out that way.

  Grisham bellowed orders to his people. Those tasked with moving the coffin to safety heaved it onto the waiting cart and pushed it to a corner of the altar, away from the chaos that was about to ensue. The front doors slammed shut as the guards on the stairs retreated inside ahead of the mob. That was an unexpected twist, and he felt a grim amusement at the elegance of the play. While he’d luxuriated in his confidence about the numbers, the Atlantean wenches had whipped up cannon fodder. When this was over, he would enjoy watching Ozahl torture every secret they held out of them for as long as the magical could keep them from expiring.

  But first, he had to rally the rest of his gang. “Make a semicircle around the doors. Use the pews for cover.” He took a position as far from the entrance as possible, shielded by the heavy marble altar on which the casket had rested. Several weapons were stashed at his feet, and he lifted an automatic rifle to his shoulder to sight down the center aisle. His people hunkered behind the wooden seats seconds before the doors broke under the weight of the bodies that pushed against them. They’d never been designed for serious defense and it was beyond their ability to resist a dozen angry citizens determined to overcome them.

  He’d searched for options to avoid shooting his fellow humans since he’d first received the report of them gathering outside but had been unable to come up with anything. And I definitely won’t let them stop me from killing the damned Atlanteans. He squeezed the trigger and stitched bursts of bullets across the three in the middle. At his action, his teams opened fire and the initial wave fell in no time. When they fired at the second, though, translucent barriers shimmered into existence to protect them.

  With a curse, he ejected the magazine and snatched the one filled with anti-magic bullets that lay at the base of his cover. By the time he had it loaded, the newcomers were too close to his forces for him to shoot cleanly. He looked at his teams on the balcony who hadn’t yet engaged and nodded at the closest one. She passed the word to her comrades before she aimed her rifle into the melee and fired into the rear ranks of the enemy and those who weren’t already in close combat with Zatora defenders. The distraction allowed his troops on the floor to rally, and they fell back to the sides, which left him firing lines down the center to engage more of the Atlanteans’ proxies.

  In the next moment, the pews themselves became airborne and hurtled toward him and the people on the upper level, and he ducked behind cover. Apparently, they’d exhausted their supplies of pawns because the magicals had clearly entered the playing field.

  Ozahl didn’t react to the magic below as the folks inside the cathedral would already know about it. He sensed the distraction he’d told Danna to create begin to come to life and broke out of his trance in feigned panic. “There—over there…something big is coming!” On the side of the building opposite the square, a fireball suddenly appeared. “Go, let’s go!” He lurched to his feet and ran toward it.

  His guards bolted to their feet and one pushed ahead while the other remained only a few steps in front of him to report the incident to whoever he was in contact with downstairs. When they approached the sniper position, he feigned a cramp in his leg and stopped. The man closest turned to look at him and reeled as a force bolt struck him in the face. He tumbled and Ozahl blasted the second guard in the back of the head and delivered a fireball into the sniper and his spotter on the corner.

  He shouted in pretended alarm and scrambled up the middle incline as he yelled, “Someone down there killed them!” The other sniper team shifted their gaze to look for the danger and he incinerated them as well. He leapt off the back of the building, used force magic to control his descent, and landed cleanly on the ground below. When he turned, he located the two guards positioned at the outside of the rear entrance, who cringed close to the structure and looked for an enemy. He sprinted to them and shouted for them to open the door.

  They complied and he kept the satisfied grin off his face. The first part of his plan—which had nothing in common with the ones the Zatoras or the Atlantean gang followed—was complete. Now, it was time to find his next target, one Jack Strang. The man had been notably absent from the site since Ozahl’s arrival. His subconscious had chewed on that fact while he used his skills to supposedly guard against enemy magic and had actually been alert to the possibility that the Malniets would use this moment to turn the tables on Danna and her allies.

  By the time he was jarred out of his trance, his mind had provided him with two certainties. First, neither Cali nor any other noble family was in the location—or, at least, they weren’t using any magic nearby. And second, the cluster of bodies he’d initially categorized as part of the gang in the main room below were reinforcements for the Zatoras. He had to give the old man credit for hiding pieces of the plan from him. In r
eturn, he would wipe out those extra forces—starting with Strang, who was doubtless leading them.

  Usha wrapped herself in a force shield as she marched toward the entrance to the cathedral. The initial push had forced the defenders back and allowed her people to gain a foothold in the space. An illusion sprang to life around her, the shimmer of which no one would notice in the chaos inside the doors. She was careful to avoid firing lines and to dodge the bodies that careened through the opening or fell onto the steps. Grisham was positioned at the far end of the hall but it would be impossible to reach him easily given the barrage of lead exchanged through the room.

  She looked up and located the first enemy on the balcony to her left. He fired down with a rifle to target Atlanteans as they defeated their closest Zatora opponents. She raised a hand, reached out with her telekinesis, and used it to yank his weapon forward. The strap pulled him over the edge and he plummeted with a shrill scream. One of her gang blasted him with fire magic.

  With space created for her by his demise, she triggered a force-assisted leap to reach the higher level. No one reacted to her landing and three enemies stood ahead of her, all with their attention focused on the battle below. She felt a surge of satisfaction as she drew her sword from its sheath, something she hadn’t done except during training in years. Usha surged forward and channeled her speed and momentum to slice the first without warning, stab the second before he could do more than flinch at her approach, and sever an arm from the third as he twisted to bring his rifle to bear. She spun and delivered a back-hook kick to his head that launched him over the railing and into the melee below.

  When she looked away from the fallen man, Grisham’s gaze was on hers. He smiled in recognition and pulled the trigger on his weapon. It was the first time she’d ever seen a rocket launcher in real life and the way the missile grew in her vision as it approached was almost beautiful. She threw herself back with a scream and a call for her magic. The explosive detonated, exploded a hole in the wall, and collapsed half of the balcony to the floor below.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rion Grisham bared his teeth in a fierce grin as he watched the balcony crumble. It was the first time since the tavern that he’d set his eyes on the witch, and watching her scramble and run was as pleasant as he could have imagined it would be.

  Hopefully, I got her. I won’t be stupid enough to go find out, though. The battle had devolved into individual fights, and his safety had to be his primary consideration. As long as he lived, the Zatora organization lived, so his death was doubtless one of the main points of this exercise.

  I gotta hand it to the wench. Using the mob was a good play. He had another card left in his hand, however. He yanked the walkie-talkie from his belt and shouted, “Now,” to the man on the other end. The affirmative reply was immediate. He shoved the device into his pocket and yanked the pistols from the weapons stash at his feet. You can never have too many guns. They were the same model as those in his shoulder holsters and filled with anti-magic rounds.

  He set one on the surface in front of him as he popped the magazine out of the other to verify that the bullets had their telltale blue mark, then repeated the process with the second. Part of him wanted to charge into the fray and get personal payback from the damned Atlanteans, but the rational portion of his brain prevailed.

  There will be more than enough time for revenge later. He remained crouched behind the marble block and swiveled his head methodically from side to side while he waited for his ace in the hole to appear.

  Danna fought her own battle on the opposite side of the room when the rocket struck the balcony. She knew with a certainty that Usha must have been the target, despite a complete lack of evidence to support it. Other than the fact that Grisham would be dying to use his heavy artillery on one or both of us. She detonated a force blast that careened her opponent and both enemies and allies nearby away from her and raced to the rubble along the far wall.

  The sound of rounds smacking into the wooden pews behind her made her run faster and she cast a shield around her in case. If the bullets were anti-magic, it wouldn’t help, but surely not every Zatora had the rare ammunition. It was a reasonable precaution, and only her fears for Usha had stopped her from thinking of it before she’d thrown herself out into the open.

  The rubble was already shifting when she arrived. She used telekinesis to lift heavy pieces out of the way and in no time at all, had freed her friend. Surprisingly, a wide grin had appeared on Usha’s face. With a shake of her head, she asked, “Are you insane?”

  The other woman laughed. “Maybe. I’ll let you know once this is over.” They turned together in response to a loud explosion from the far side of the room and near the front. Where a door had stood, only flaming wreckage remained and a large group of people streamed through the opening. Her boss patted her on the shoulder. “That’s your problem. Grisham’s mine.”

  “If you think he’s your only problem, we should talk. I’ve compiled a list. You have many, many more.”

  The woman straightened once she’d retrieved her sword. “It’s a date. Right after we wipe these idiots out.” She darted to the left to pursue her target.

  Danna sighed in a mixture of amazement, disbelief, and the recognition that this was exactly what she should have expected from the other woman. “Fine. I guess I’ll go give the newcomers a proper welcome.”

  Ozahl managed to fell the last couple of men from the reserve group with a lightning blast and they twitched bizarrely at his feet. He snarled in frustration at the timing of his arrival and his stupid reflex attack and moved forward cautiously in case his actions had been noticed. As soon as he stepped into the open, a bullet drove through his magical shield and caught him in the chest. He rolled out of the way of the barrage and called a wall of force to block the entrance to the passage his targets had emerged from.

  The pain was intense despite the bulletproof vest. He guessed the shot had probably cracked a rib, at least, and focused on controlling his breathing while he took a healing potion from his pocket and drank only enough of it to fix whatever had been broken. Common sense reminded him that he couldn’t afford to waste even a drop since he couldn’t know what awaited him in the room beyond. One thing was certain, though. Now that he’d been seen attacking Zatoras, his time as a mole inside the organization had ended.

  He pushed himself to his feet and muttered, “And good riddance.” It took only a moment to change the face he wore so he wouldn’t be easily recognized by those he’d betrayed before he picked up a rifle from one of the fallen men. No one would expect a mage to carry a weapon, which might give him an edge if anyone chose to engage him—or at least enough of one to eliminate them with magic before they realized he wasn’t human.

  After a deep breath, he released the magical barrier and waited several moments, but nothing happened. Finally, he risked a look around the corner and found the hall empty. He’d lost track of the bigger picture while he dealt with his issues, but as he walked forward, the sounds of battle, anger, and pain reached his ears. He’d hoped for a nice bottleneck, but the delay had allowed the reserve force to spill into the main room.

  Fine. It’ll be more fun facing all the Zatoras rather than only a handful. He launched a ball of force into the ear of the closest human, who fired his rifle toward the center of the room. His target collapsed with his skull broken.

  A bald head appeared in his view and vanished equally as suddenly, and Ozahl grinned. “There you are, Jack. I’ve been looking for you.”

  Danna launched herself over the battle to cross above the melee. Halfway to her destination, she locked gazes with a Zatora on the far balcony in the instant before he shot her. The pain when the anti-magic bullets struck her chest was bad, but the plates that reinforced the front part of her leather jacket prevented them from penetrating. The one that caught her arm, though, destroyed the material and buried itself deeply in her bicep. A wave of agony surged through her.

  The distrac
tion caused her to land badly, and she pounded into the far wall and lost her breath. She had the presence of mind to wash the enemies closest to her in flames before she fumbled for the healing potion she carried in one of the jacket pockets. Stars encroached on the edges of her vision, and she realized she couldn’t draw enough air. The impact had obviously damaged one or both of her lungs. She swallowed the liquid and spilled some over her face in her haste to start it working.

  A warm rush accompanied her body repairing itself. She snatched the energy potion from a different pocket, swallowed that too, and leapt to her feet as strength surged through her. As her focus settled, she pushed her magic into her senses to give her a hyper-detailed view of the surrounding battle. An adversary close by was in the wrong position, and she side-skipped at him, swung her leg, and drove her heel into his extended knee. It shattered with a sharp snap.

  Danna didn’t see him fall because she had already turned toward the next opportunity. A dozen feet away, a Zatora raised his rifle to shoot at a downed Atlantean. She stabbed her open hand forward and fire erupted from it and rocketed into his weapon. The heat ignited the gunpowder in the bullets and the weapon exploded to take him out of the fight and injure both enemies and allies around him.

  She honestly didn’t care, not when she was deep in her combat trance. Her motion became only opportunity and execution, chained one after the other in a long strand of precision violence. She eradicated three more but was jolted from her detachment by the arrival of her lover, who wore a different face than she’d expected. He lifted his gun in mock surrender and gestured for her to keep doing what she was doing. She turned to find her next target with a grin. With him fighting on their side, secretly or not, the Zatoras couldn’t possibly last much longer.