“Ewan you unmitigated dickwad!” I hissed. “You put that back.”
His one gold tooth glittered with relish as he stared down at me, wearing the grin of a self-satisfied cat. “Make me. But keep in mind that if we fight, we’re likely to blow up the whole damn place. Methyl propyl ether is very flammable.”
My hands balled into fists at my side. I squeezed them so tight, my nails cut bloody crescents into my palms. The bastard had me dead to rights. If I fought him for those artifacts, I was going to end up blowing this place sky high when his fireballs made contact with the ether.
“I thought you wanted a fair fight,” I said.
“You didn’t say nothing about weapons,” he said. “I assumed anything was fair game. Plus, I’m going to be a living god soon, and all this will be burnt away if I win. So if you think about it, I’m preserving a bit of history.”
I fixed him with a steely glare and bared my teeth.
“You and I are going to have a reckoning, understand me?”
Ewan’s confident smile didn’t waver. In fact, it only seemed to grow wider as I stared him down. And with what he’d just stolen, the confidence was unsurprising.
“Looking forward to it, Valdez,” he said, leaning closer.
Growling in frustration, I rounded on the case that held the Thread of Ariadne, pulled my fist back, and punched it hard. It shattered like sugar cubes beneath the onslaught. The shards dug into my forearm, bringing blood sluggishly to the surface. I reached in and seized the thread, pulling it from the black velvet pillow it lay upon.
It fit easily in the palm of my hand, and I studied it for the briefest of moments, wondering how something so small had accomplished such a feat. There didn’t appear to be much thread on the spool. Perhaps it was running low and this whole thing had been a useless waste of time. But then again, appearances could be deceiving. Dom’s coat could stash a full-grown man in the pocket dimension. I’d just have to trust that this thing could get us all the way through Mictlan and back. I tucked the thread gingerly into the shallow pockets of my tiny shorts and glanced at the door. We’d been here for ten minutes and the ether had been pumping into this room for about three of them. Dom propped himself up on the wall, looking a little dizzy.
Then Cayman swayed and fell sideways. I sprinted across the room and dove, catching him before he could split his head open on another glass case.
“Shit,” I hissed, as sirens blared, along with flashing red lights. We hadn’t anticipated the gas, nor had I anticipated Ewan’s greed. If we’d broken the thread out of its case only a minute until the automatic locks tripped, we could have zipped out without anyone being the wiser. At worst, we would only have been met with a small fighting force. Now we’d face everything the Heraklion had to throw at us.
“Bastard,” I spat at Ewan, getting a shoulder beneath Cayman’s bulk. “You couldn’t have just waited?”
“I take what I want, when I want it,” Ewan countered, sauntering toward a far wall. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Valdez. I’ll get us out of here.”
“No fireballs,” I hissed. I didn’t put it past Ewan to blow the vault, just to get rid of Dom. But we needed Cayman for the plot to work, so actually doing it would be disadvantageous.
Ewan rolled his eyes skyward.
“Course no fireballs. What do I look like, some sort of idjit? Just stand still.”
I hoisted Cayman’s full deadweight onto my shoulder and watched Ewan through narrowed eyes. He knelt, pressing a hand into the ground. Seconds later, the marble began to shift and groan until a chunk about the size of a steamer trunk came loose and went flying toward the door. It impacted with a clang that echoed in my bones.
Of course. I hadn’t considered it before, because it seemed so polished and urbane, but marble was technically still a rock. It was just metamorphosed limestone, arranged in a pattern that humans found pretty. It wasn’t inherently different from the stuff that Ewan could normally control.
The slab of marble splintered and groaned with every clanging impact but eventually, the door buckled. Dom had to use the wall to find his way around the room, breathing shallowly through the material of my overcoat. I barely dared to breathe. Cayman weighed less than some loads I’d carried with this newfound strength, but I had to waddle after Dom to the entrance. By the time I’d reached him, Ewan had gotten the second door open as well.
Almost thirty guards waited for us on the other side of the door. I wanted to shout at them to run, but didn’t have the opportunity to say a word before Ewan barreled through the group like a set of bowling pins, sliding across the marble floor with his arms extended, holding a pair of long blades. Ten of them toppled at once, the lucky ones groaning and clutching their heads. The unlucky ones lay in rapidly expanding pools of their own blood.
“No killing!” I shouted at Ewan, even as the bullets began to fly. I spun Cayman so that I was holding him in the world’s most awkward piggy-back ride and one of the bullets grazed my hip. It stung, sending a trail of fire streaking in a horizontal line across the skin there.
Ewan ignored me, summoning tongues of flame now that we were clear of the ether. He also reached out a hand toward the water fountain. The pipes within exploded, sending torrents of water spilling out onto the floor. A few more guards lost their footing in the torrent and went down with the others. Wind blossomed in our wake and Ewan brought all four elements to bear against the rest of the guards, blowing through them like a damned hurricane, filled with broken glass and ancient marble statues. One by one every single guard went down beneath Ewan’s elemental maelstrom.
I was finally forced to shove Cayman off into Dom’s arms.
“I have to evacuate everyone else,” I explained.
“Go,” he said, giving my shoulder a light shove. “I’ll whip something up for Cayman. It shouldn’t be hard to reverse the effects of the ether.”
I nodded and then took off, sprinting toward the rooms ahead of us. I shouted at as many tourists as I could find, chivvying them out of the destructive path that Ewan was slicing through the museum. At first, everyone stared at me as if I’d completely lost it, but when the smoke began to curl from beneath doors and windows everyone seemed to believe me. Someone pulled the fire alarm, adding to the general din.
It turned out we didn’t even need the firearms we’d brought. Ewan was killing everything in a uniform and anyone else who got in the way. When I was satisfied that I’d gotten everyone I could out of the way, I raced to the back of the museum to find Ewan happily terrorizing the local police. I wasn’t sure when they’d swarmed into the building, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them as they were faced with possibly the most powerful mage the world had ever seen.
For a few seconds, I just stared at him, juggling all four elements like some sort of mystical figure from a fairy tale. Everyone knew that elemental magic didn’t work like that. Watching him gleefully tear through humans struck at something deep within me, a doubt I’d been unable or unwilling to voice until now.
Could I actually stop him? I’d come up with the cockamamie plan to get us to Mictlan. But for the first time, I was wondering if I actually had what it took. Ewan had no conscience, no compunctions killing people like I did.
Even Dom, whom I’d been hopelessly in love with for years, had thought me heartless enough to kill my own sister, at least for a brief moment. But I wasn’t like Ewan. I could never do this.
Would my compassion doom the entire world?
It wasn’t a question I could afford to contemplate for long. I needed to get him out of here, and I was done playing games. Ewan was unpredictable and ruthless. Well, two could play at that game. Maybe I just needed a little practice.
Seizing the pistol of a fallen police officer, I walked calmly and carefully toward Ewan. He spotted me just before I raised the gun and squeezed the trigger. It was just enough time for him to send a marble pedestal sailing toward me.
; My shot found its mark. So did Ewan’s.
The marble hit my broadside and for a few seconds, I was airborne. Then I hit the far wall, shattering some no-doubt priceless piece of art beneath my spine. The marble crushed the air from my lungs and my ribcage snapped like dried twigs beneath its weight. Black spots spread like ink over my eyes and I slumped willingly into death. I died with a smile on my face, confident that I’d at least ended the bastard for a few hours at least.
chapter
7
I WOKE SEVERAL HOURS LATER in the back of our stolen rental car, while Dom tried to hawk some of my enchanted weaponry to an arms dealer. My chest felt achy and numb, but at least I was alive again. I arranged my mangled body and stretched my arms. Bello was behind the wheel, and he nodded at me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“We peeled you off the ground and made a hasty retreat. Did you get what we came for?”
I reached in my pocket and pulled out Ariadne’s thread.
“Mission successful,” I said.
He frowned at me, no doubt thinking of the dozens of injured guards we’d left behind. Dom jumped in the passenger seat with stacks of the local currency and a few rolls of gold coins. He dumped the score on Findlay’s lap and patted Bello on the shoulder. An hour later, we had managed to find a pilot who could get us out of Greece without asking too many questions.
It had been disheartening to learn that Ewan had kept such a tight grip on his new toys that no one had been able to remove them, even as he and I healed from our sudden cases of death. Ewan would have been hard enough to defeat without the immortal weapons of Hercules. He didn’t stir until an hour after takeoff.
The private aircraft we’d been able to acquire was quite nice, though the pilot had demanded an exorbitant amount. Armed with our stolen artifacts and the leftover cash from fencing some hastily constructed and highly illegal weaponry made by yours truly, we were bound for a private airstrip outside of Tulum. From there we’d be traveling to a cluster of Aztec ruins located in southern Mexico.
Dom and I were huddled over a map, trying to plot a course through long stretches of jungle, past the Mayan temples in Chichen Itza, to reach our goal. According to Cayman, Sienna wouldn’t be able to cast her inter-dimensional portals in ghost form, which meant we needed to find a physical entrance. We weren’t exactly sure which of the temples housed the entrance to Mictlan and were counting on Valerius and Bryne to lead us in the right direction.
Findlay complained of a headache and lay down across a row of empty chairs.
Cayman sprawled on the white leather seat across from Ewan, who was busy cracking open pistachio nuts with a Bowie knife and tossing the shells on the floor of the plane. The back of my neck prickled any time I glanced his direction, sure that he was going to stick the blade right between my ribs if I wasn’t watchful. I’d at least used the plane’s bathroom to freshen up a bit; while Ewan still had blood on his forehead from where I’d shot him.
“So I’ve never actually managed to hear the whole story,” Cayman said, watching Ewan with the same wariness. He’d been able to immediately sense our demons, even without touching either of us. Something about his connection to the spirits he wielded allowed him to perceive more than the average mage.
“Which part do ya want to know, chief?” Ewan asked, finally sheathing the knife.
“Let’s start with how either of you are alive. Finch’s field report stated you’d been killed during the Dawson protection detail by Valdez. And shortly afterward, Finch killed Valdez. Or did Finch fabricate that report?”
“No,” I said, dragging my eyes away from the map. “That’s pretty much how it went down.”
Dom shifted uncomfortably, and I could feel his gaze on the side of my face, gauging my reaction. I kept my expression carefully neutral, revealing nothing. I knew if I gave Ewan the slightest hint that Dom’s choice had bothered me, it would be used to cut at us both later.
In truth, I was still smarting from the betrayal. If the vampires hadn’t had a use for me, I’d have bled out on the floor of the hotel room in Belize. Or worse, I might have joined the ranks of House Lamonia as an undead assassin for hire.
“Sorry,” Dom muttered under his breath.
“Don’t be,” I said, grateful when my voice came out as light and flippant as I’d intended. “I’d have done the same if the roles had been reversed.”
I finally raised my eyes from the map to address the shaman. “To answer your question, Cayman, I was brought back by a ritual performed by the jackass to your right.”
“Hey now, I resemble that remark,” Ewan said with a smirk.
“And the same goes for you, I suppose?” Cayman asked, turning to face Ewan properly.
Ewan nodded sagely, wedging a toothpick into one corner of his mouth. “Performed it in advance. Got the inkling that Nat’d rather kill me than Finch. Didn’t trust the fangers not to leave me dead.”
I quirked a brow at him. “Oh really? Because I thought you and Algerone were braiding each other’s hair and crafting friendship bracelets. When did you fall in with the vamps anyway? I can’t remember a time you weren’t on a mission. This plan had to have been in the works before the attempt on Cat’s life.”
Indeed, it was probably an oversight that I hadn’t questioned his constant activity before. No matter how good we were, the Five were still human. Every person needed a break now and then.
Dom and I had always competed for the top spot as far as pure magical stamina was concerned, but Ewan had us beat hands down for productivity. His kill count was nearing a million. I’d only seen him take vacations once every two years when he’d drag us all to a barbecue or family reunion. All lies, I now realized.
“During the troll hunt in the Bronx,” Ewan said, chewing the end of his toothpick in sudden agitation. “I’d heard what you were doing with Johnson through the grapevine. Better pay for easy work and a chance to kill humans? Sign me up. But the scaly bastard wouldn’t take me.”
“Johnson?” I echoed in shock. “Landon Johnson of Johnson and Conoley?”
“You know any other dragons named Johnson, Valdez?” Ewan’s voice dripped disdain and the table singed beneath my grip as anger flared white-hot in my belly. Dom seized the map, rescuing it from my explosive fit of temper.
I forced myself to take several deep breaths through my nose. If I was going to survive this trip without committing or being the victim of murder, I needed to find a happy place really damn fast.
I withdrew the CZ-75 I’d packed as a backup in case the heist went sideways and began dismantling it. I was less likely to ignite the plane or its passengers if I kept my hands busy.
“So Landon turned you down,” I prompted, sliding the magazine out. I checked every bullet was in place before glancing back up at him. The agitation hadn’t disappeared. In fact, he seemed angrier than ever. He watched me warily before giving me his reply.
“I was getting really tired of offing sprites and yeti. I needed cannier prey. When I get bored I have a tendency to find a street hooker and…” He trailed off with a smile. My stomach flipped.
“Well, have a little bloody fun. I even offered to hunt you after you’d gone rogue. The disciplinary council vetoed it and Dom warned me he’d kill me before he allowed it. Shame too. You would have been interesting prey, Valdez. I wonder if you might have even beaten me.”
The thought chilled me down to the marrow of my bones. Every cell in my body itched to back away from him. I could envision it all too well. Ewan turning up at my door to chat. At my lowest point, I would have welcomed the company. I knew he could be genial. He might have even offered me support, something I desperately craved in those days. And the moment he had me off my guard…
I began cleaning the dismantled parts, keeping my hands as steady as possible. It looked like I owed Dom more than I’d ever dreamed. If Ewan had his way, I’d have been fish chum a long time ago.
The
thought of killing me had evoked a glittering grin that faded around the edges when he continued. His lip curled in a sneer. “He said I was wrong for the job. Like that made any sense. You don’t need the right attitude to kill. All ya need is a weapon and the opportunity.”
I could see why Landon had turned him away. He wanted contractors, not attack dogs. And Ewan’s outlook on killing was diametrically opposed to mine. I killed to prevent loss of life. Every vampire that I’d offed had caused a power vacuum which kept the most dangerous of them in their homes politicking instead of out on the streets sucking people dry. Ewan killed for the sake of it which, in its way, made him more dangerous. I was a gun, carefully primed and aimed at the correct target. Ewan was a landmine, laying in wait for whoever happened by.
He kicked his feet up on the table and rolled the toothpick to the opposite corner of his mouth. “I found a vampire beneath the bridge, snatching those girls the trolls stole. That little toad Ashby. He was out shopping for his boss’s supper. So I told him to take me back to Chateau Lamonia or I’d blast him to a cinder.”
He shrugged. “The rest of it was negotiating details and waiting for the right time to strike. But I never would have done it if you hadn’t opened the door first, Valdez. You showed me there was a lot of fun to be had out in the world, and other people who’d pay me to do what I loved. You know what the gurus say. Follow your bliss.”
I slotted the pieces of my gun back into place, not looking at him. My stomach pitched like a ship at sea. I itched to shoot Ewan right between his eyes. Again. But if I did, I’d be proving him right. I didn’t kill people just because I wanted to. And I would enjoy killing Ewan Saunders. I’d happily roast him alive and dance on his ashes.
In a roundabout way, I’d created my own hell. By contracting with Johnson, I’d opened the door to Ewan’s evil. He’d slipped through the gap and used the opportunity to attack my sister.
Agent of Magic Box Set Page 48
