Agent of Magic Box Set
Page 42
Faster than I could follow, he reached out and tore down the curtains. Blinded by the sudden light, I lost him behind the swathes of falling fabric. I loosed a half dozen bullets as Algerone Lamonia flew at me with the speed and grace of a jaguar.
One of my incendiary rounds caught him in the shoulder, lighting him ablaze, but it didn’t slow him down. The flaming vampire wrapped around me from behind, burning my skin through Ashby’s thick overcoat.
He would have torn through a regular human, and even with my enhanced reflexes I barely managed to stop him. He grazed my jugular with one tooth, drawing a thin line of blood, before I unloaded a clip into his chin.
Chunks of his skull splattered the ceiling, before falling around me on the oak floorboards. Lamonia’s body lost its internal consistency, bursting like the world’s worst pinata. Bits of him sloshed into my boots, staining my socks.
I shivered, adrenaline rushing through my body and making my skin tingle. I stepped out of the pile of steaming viscera, wiping the edge of my shoes against the plush carpet.
I should have left the office flushed with victory. Cat was as well as could possibly be expected. Dom and I were alive. House Lamonia had been utterly decimated and we’d be burning this manor house to the ground. With any luck the authorities would turn up a slew of John and Jane Does in the backyard, which would mysteriously have been unearthed before their arrival.
But instead of victory, I felt only fear. Lamonia could have been bluffing about his failsafe, but somehow, I doubted it. The man was adept at 4-D chess and he’d outmaneuvered me before. I knew only one thing for certain. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. But it was over for now, and that was enough.
***
It wasn’t safe to stay in New York. The Trust representatives due to turn up the following day for Cat’s wedding were sure to be in town by now, and I didn’t want to be blamed for another international incident.
Findlay, Dom, and I took a transport back to the ironclad. It was the safest place to be at the moment. Adrift in international waters and filled with refugees, it was an unlikely target for anyone wishing to attack us. In the hours since we’d left, they’d managed to get a fair distance from the island. We were planning to return once we had a chance to offload most of our healthy passengers on Boca Raton. The rest would go further inland, and receive healing from a mage that owed Declan a favor.
It had been something of a shock to learn the answer to one of the tiny mysteries I’d been puzzling over before my infernal hitchhiker had turned the world upside down. Declan had been the one supplying Kaya’s group with the tech to unlock their collars. The idea had been to meet them near the Canada border and transport them to a safe house in Ottawa. Sometime during that plot he and Kaya appeared to have become…close. I watched in bewildered silence as they curled contentedly on the deck, hands intertwined.
With the closest thing any of us had to a doctor’s training, it fell to Elle to tend the sick and injured. Elle had addressed Cat’s injuries as best she could, applying a pinch of the dwindling antibiotic ointment onto her wound before wrapping it in a sterile bandage. She’d also injected something into the crook of her elbow to help her sleep. After the ordeal Cat been forced to endure the last few weeks, introducing her to Sophia right away would probably be too much. I would have been happy to kneel by her bedside and watch her sleep, content in the knowledge that she was going to recover. But there was too much vying for my attention to allow for such a peaceful evening.
We still had a few thousand wolves left on the isle to retrieve before our mission was entirely over. And after that, we still had to inform the Trust that Lamonia and his people had been behind the assassination of Sienna Vogel.
Without Lamonia’s influence, we could begin to rebuild. Hopefully, Cat and Findlay could clear our names with the Trust, after we’d rescued all the wolves. For now, Dom and I needed to stay quiet. The Trust was supposed to protect supernaturals and we’d just vanquished an entire vampire house.
It was possible that we’d both be stripped of our rank and wands and ordered into exile. But it wouldn’t be the first for me, and it was better than the death penalty.
I still had to keep my oath to Volkar and the Barbegazi, and I’d promised Valerius to help him get his revenge in exchange for my sister’s life, but that was an adventure for another day. For tonight, we were safe.
I found Dom at the prow of the boat, looking out over the waters. He’d showered, but poorly. His injured hand was wrapped in white gauze and taped into a makeshift sling against his bare chest. A thick wool coat hung from his shoulders.
Before he could say anything, I leaned up and kissed him.
“What was that for?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“For being on my side this time,” I smirked. “Sorry about your hand.”
“What, this?” he asked. “I never use it anyway. Although it might make some things a bit more difficult. Let’s just say I have some unresolved tension to work out.”
“Oh I see,” I said, tracing my fingers along his smooth abs and tugging at his belt playfully. “Well, I suppose since it’s my fault you got hurt, I’ll have to help you out with that.”
I leaned up again to kiss him again, pressing my body against his.
“Unless you want to give the seagulls a good show,” he whispered huskily, his lips grazing my ear. “I think we should move this inside?”
“Meet you there,” I said. “There’s one more thing I need to do first.”
I was still operating under Lamonia’s death curse, and I was pretty sure keeling over on top of Dom wasn’t the kind of foreplay he expected.
Findlay had been pressed close to Cat’s side for the last hour and a half. I knelt next to him and elbowed him in the ribs. Not so long ago being this close to him would have been unthinkable. I supposed the personal dynamics changed when you slaughtered a vampire house together. I hadn’t been paying much attention, but Findlay had taken out a fair number of the undead bastards with a flood of rats, hawks, and a lynx that had found itself very far from home.
He glanced up at me, raising one brow. “What do you want, Valdez?”
It seemed his feelings toward me hadn’t cooled as much as my attitude toward him. Great.
“Any chance that I could trouble you to take this death timer off of me? I’m due to kick the bucket soon and I’d rather not, if at all possible.”
Findlay’s face scrunched up doubtfully. “I’m not sure I can. I didn’t cast it, and I’d need the Aztec artifact used in the ritual in order to reverse it.”
“You didn’t curse me?” I asked, a shiver running down my spine.
“No.”
Well, shit. Findlay was supposed to be the only mage working with the vampires. If he hadn’t been the one responsible for Cat’s accident, and for binding me to Valerius, that could mean there was another player still out there. So Lamonia hadn’t been bluffing, after all. The vampires had another wizard on their payroll.
“Any idea who might have?” I asked.
Findlay shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. I’ll look into reversing it but it will take at least a day or two. I don’t have the right materials. In the meantime… I thought you might like this back.”
He uncurled his fingers, revealing a colorful chunk of plastic. In my muddled state, it took a moment to recognize it as my grandfather’s wand. Warmth flooded through me, and before I knew it my arms were around Findlay, pulling him into a tight hug. He flinched at first, then pulled away nervously, clearing his throat.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I shuffled towards the door in a half-stupor, wiping away a tear. The ringing in my ears warned me that I didn’t have much time, and I didn’t want Sophia to see me this way. There was a pounding between my ears, almost like a heartbeat. It sounded like the ticking of a clock. I clung to the metal railing near the stairs, looking out towards Wolf Isle.
My vision dimmed and I got a faint hint of sulfur bef
ore my legs gave out from beneath me. I felt my neck snap as I tumbled down the steep stairs, landing in a pile of limbs. Then everything disappeared as a flash of bright light swallowed up the horizon.
***
I didn’t remember visiting Valerius’ hellish dreamscape this time, but when I woke up I tasted ash and smoke. I was still on the cold, wet surface of the main deck below the stairs, but someone had covered me with a blanket. A semi-circle of concerned faces peered down at me from above. Dom, Cat, Findlay, Jay, Bly, and even Fabian watched me as I struggled to get up.
“Finally,” Findlay muttered. “I thought we were going to have to wait another hour.”
Cat’s wan face scrunched up and she hit Findlay in the shoulder with all the strength she possessed. “Don’t be cruel, Louis.”
I pushed onto my knees and found more than just my friends and family staring at me. At least a hundred pairs of eyes glinted from the shadows. Some of the werewolves had assumed their beast form and regarded me like I was some sort of dangerous creature, hackles raised and teeth bared.
“What’s going on?” I asked, fear coursing through my veins. Had I grown horns or something? Did I look as monstrous on the outside as I felt inside? With all the sick and injured taking priority, I hadn’t been able to take a shower. The blood made my clothes stiff and coated every inch of me.
“Nat,” Dom began quietly. “When you were….gone… did you and Valerius go anywhere? Do anything that you didn’t normally do?”
“No. He was still dozing after the dose of blood you gave me. That’s probably why it took me a little while to wake up. And why I feel like seven shades of shit right now. What’s wrong?”
Because clearly something was wrong. The weight of every eye in the room had fallen on me, pinning me to the floor of the ironclad with an unvoiced accusation. What had happened?
Dom hesitated before flicking on the television set that Ashby had installed to antagonize me when we’d been his prisoners. Instead of Cat’s footage, however, there was a newscaster staring somberly at the camera. The scrolling text beneath the woman’s pretty face read:
Atoll reignites. Thousands of quarantined wolves die in natural catastrophe.
The words hit me like a blow to the head. I rocked back and only Dom’s arms caught me before I could hit the deck again.
“How?” I gasped. “I didn’t….I was dead! And Cat’s here so, who…?”
My voice trailed off, choked by the horror of the images flashing across the screen. Black smoke belched into the sky, blotting out what had once been Wolf Isle. What had still been home to nearly two thirds of the remaining wolf population. We hadn’t gotten them off in time, and they’d all been killed in the explosion.
I found myself wishing for the black oblivion again. It was less painful than this. I hadn’t destroyed the island myself, but I may as well have. Lamonia warned me it would happen, and I killed him anyway. I’d let my personal vendetta get in the way, and condemned thousands of innocent lives. Why hadn’t I pried the name of Lamonia’s failsafe from him while I’d had the chance?
Dom’s face was a set in hard lines of grief. “We don’t know, Nat. It happened right after you died again. Some people thought that maybe you lost control.”
Lost control. Like I had in House Lamonia. Like I had when I’d attacked Dom. I was pretty sure I hadn’t left the boat, but what if teleportation was one of my new powers? An itch on my collarbone let me know I’d earned another demonic tattoo, but I resisted the urge to check it out under so much scrutiny.
How could I know it hadn’t been me? There was only one way to be sure.
“I’m going out there,” I announced. “I’m going to find the mother fucker that did this.”
I peered around at every single face in the room, meeting as many eyes as was humanly possible. “I swear it to you. I’m going to find the person who did this and make them pay.”
“And if it was you?” Jay whispered, suspicion barely edging grief from his voice. Who had been on the island that he’d cared for? How many family members had he lost in the explosion? How much blood did I have on my hands?
“Then I’ll find a way to end this,” I muttered. “And make it stick this time.”
epilogue
FINDLAY WAS RIGHT. I WASN’T able to get anywhere near the atoll until the following evening, when the water had cooled just enough to be bearable to my new, demon-possessed form. The ironclad had to stay miles back, away from the steaming water.
If I squinted, I could make out the shape of some of the other atolls in the distance through the rippling heat waves that rose from the surface of the sea. The water was black and sludgy, filled with all the crap that had come billowing from the earth when Wolf Isle exploded.
I’d been grateful to climb onto the little dingy and set sail for the island. It gave me something to do other than agonize over the possibility that I was responsible for a few thousand dead werewolves. I couldn’t recall Valerius pressuring me into action. In fact, with Cat safe and a fresh blood sacrifice in his belly, the demon hadn’t seemed unduly concerned about its mission to avenge Cipactli.
The closer we sailed to the island, the more alert Valerius became. An impending sense of doom stole over me as I adjusted my grip on the right oar, steering the vessel in the direction of the nearest shore.
There was something there, I could sense it now. It felt at once alien and familiar, like a stranger’s hand, wearing a glove bearing a scent I knew well.
Bryne, Valerius hissed.
I quirked one brow, wishing the demon was sitting across from me so I could bore into it with my gaze.
“Who is Bryne?” I asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t place where I’d heard it.
It was difficult to think, given how miserable this journey was. The long-sleeved shirt and trouser combination was a miserable choice when I was sailing through water roughly ten degrees hotter than the average jacuzzi. The gloves and thick-soled boots I wore were supposed to protect me from severe burns when I came in contact with the dingy. After an hour of rowing, I was ready to take my chances with the burning metal.
Valerius’ mental picture depicted a monster roughly the size he was, and also made of rock and magma. The only distinguishing factors that separated the two were the slimmer shape of this new monster, and the vivid green of its glowing eyes. Don’t ask me how I guessed, but I’d have bet money the new shape was female. It was confirmed a few seconds later when Valerius spoke.
My twin sister, he said, giving me the mental equivalent of a nod. I had not expected to feel her presence on the earth again. There was only one other host suitable.
Well clearly we’d all been mistaken about that. Cat was still safe aboard the ironclad and had been making her first shaky introduction to Sophia by the time I’d set off to find out what had been done to Wolf Isle. A shiver ran through me despite the heat, and I clenched my jaw.
Silence stretched between us for a time, though it didn’t feel antagonistic anymore. Minutes later, my boat bumped up against the shallow ridge of sand that made up the small bay.
A coating of ash and glass crunched beneath my boot when I stepped onto the rocky shore. The black sand of the scorched earth twinkled in the light. The presence loomed just out of reach, obscured by shadow and the blistering heat. I reached for my gun on reflex, stumbling past a pile of bleached bones and skulls. The smell of raw sewage made me nauseous. I bit my tongue to keep from dry heaving.
“Come out with your hands up, bastard,” I growled.
A shadow moved in the gloom and I adjusted my aim, pulling the hammer back with an audible click. A low, bubbling laugh rolled on the breeze toward me. It was so familiar that chills broke out on my arms.
“You going to shoot me again, sugar? That seems mighty unsportsmanlike, seein’ as I’m unarmed.”
It couldn’t be. How the fuck had he gotten a demon?
How the fuck was h
e even alive?
A tall, broad man stepped out of the shadows and into my line of vision. The last time I’d seen him he’d been wearing a garish Hawaiian shirt, blending in perfectly with the tourists in Belize. He’d swapped it for his usual duster, vest and shirt combo. And of course, his boots. He never went anywhere without wearing a pair of spurred boots.
His round face broke into a delighted grin when he caught sight of my dumbfounded expression. He rolled his toothpick to one side of his mouth, exposing a tapered set of double fangs.
I’d found him. The mage on the inside. The man who’d tried to murder Cat. The man who’d cast a death curse on me. The man who’d blown Wolf Isle sky high while I lay on the deck of a ship, rebuilding my broken neck.
“Ewan Saunders,” I breathed.
His grin turned feral, and the bright green shine of Bryne’s power peeked out from behind his eyes for just a moment.
“Well howdy to you too, stranger.” He tipped his hat to me once and inclined his head. “Now whaddaya say we kick off this apocalypse sharpish?”
The End
chapter
1
HEAT HAZED THE WORLD AROUND me, sending shivers of rippling color dancing across my vision. Perhaps that was why I was seeing a ghost. Because he had to be a ghost, didn’t he? I’d killed Ewan Saunders weeks ago. I’d heard his last, labored breath as he’d tried to suck in air through his ruined lung.
Ewan’s smile broadened, exposing a golden molar and twin sets of tapered fangs. I’d never asked him for the story behind his many scars. Now I was wishing I had. So Valerius had been right. He had sensed his psychotic twin sister on this island, being hosted by this crazy-ass redneck. My former colleague, and friend. The man I’d killed, trying to save my sister. Sparks flew as he tread closer towards me through the ash and scorched earth.
“What have you done?” I whispered out loud, not really expecting an answer. My mind raced, tracing through the progression of events that had lead me to this exact moment. My failed mission to the barbegazi stronghold in the Alps. Being hired by vampires to take out Elle Dawson, under false pretenses, and then bound to an infernal demon in an unholy ritual that made me virtually immortal. Left stranded on Wolf Isle as a ticking time bomb. Against all odds, escaping the island, rescuing Elle and the cure, and defeating Algerone Lamonia…