Agent of Magic Box Set

by Melissa Hawke

  chapter

  16

  SEX ON THE BEACH WASN’T all it was cracked up to be. Sand had gotten everywhere. But it seemed to have done the trick. Dom rallied, becoming the unshakeable, confident man I’d fallen in love with. I saw him sometimes, fidgeting with the charmed bracelet I’d made him and smiling to himself. I wasn’t sure if it was the subtle rejuvenating charms I’d engraved into the metal, Valerius’ demonic influence or the prospect of walking down the aisle when we were through with this mess, but we made it through the next several deserts without incident.

  One had red sands and strange flowering trees, with fat, thorny trunks and blood red leaves. Another had white sand that glittered like diamonds, and was blinding to look at. Along the way, we found remnants of the souls who had made the journey before us. Bleached bones, gear and clothing they’d abandoned, shedding extra weight. Finally we bridged the incline over the steep ridge that separated the deserts from each other. Someone had carved makeshift shelters into the walls, and scratched messages for those who would follow. A flight of worn stairs lead to the top of the jagged border. We rested in the shadows for a short break before ascending.

  “What the hell is that?” Dom asked, pointing ahead with wide eyes.

  My eyes widened, equally transfixed at the point on the horizon he’d indicated. A black shadow fell like a curtain across the landscape, blocking our view. We’d finally reached the edge of the seventh desert. According to Sienna, we had only one more to go before we reached the river that surrounded Mictlantecuhtli’s realm. It was the shortest stretch we’d yet traveled, but also the most hazardous.

  “That is the Desert of Obsidian Winds,” Sienna said with a grim little smile. I swore the German witch was enjoying this.

  “Are you going to elaborate what the hell that means now?” Ewan said, teeth grinding audibly. I had to agree with his stance this time around. Sienna’s reticence to tell us anything about the eighth desert had been infuriating. Staring at it from a distance, I had a sinking feeling I knew what I was facing now.

  From our vantage point, the desert looked like it had been swept up into an active tornado, black streaks of debris flying this way and that, battering into each other at random.

  “Let me guess,” I said dryly. “The stuff in that windstorm is obsidian.”

  Sienna’s smile grew wider. “Not just obsidian. Obsidian knives. You’ll want to make sure your armor is secure. This part can get a bit lethal.”

  I glanced nervously over at Dom. He looked so very breakable in light of what we were facing. I almost told him to turn back and go the way we’d come. He could signal Cayman and get himself out of this mess. But I knew that he wouldn’t go. I still had to face Ewan in battle. How could he go, knowing what I was facing? And even if I could somehow convince him, I wasn’t sure I could do without him. My confidence at gaining the serpent sword had waned some in the intervening days as we traveled and Ewan still retained that smug sense of superiority. Maybe he was just an idiot who hadn’t yet realized what he’d gotten himself into. But my keen intuition told me there was something else going on. Something told me the volcanic shards of glass weren’t the only threat I’d be facing in the Desert of Obsidian Winds. I needed to keep my wits about me.

  Dom took a breath, then slotted his helmet over his head. I adjusted his armor, making sure as little skin as possible was exposed, then cupped my palm around the copper bracelet, giving it a quick recharge. I slid my jaguar mask into place, surveying our next the challenge. All the wind seemed to be blowing towards us, as if anticipating our arrival. The mask should protect me from the worst of it. And if it didn’t? Well, I would be back to tell the tale of my own folly.

  “Let’s do this,” Ewan enthused, swinging his sword with a flourish. He tugged at the impenetrable hide of his cloak, lowering the lion’s head hood until it covered his face. “I’ve been wanting a chance to really test this thing out.”

  “You’re batshit, you know that?” I muttered as we trudged forward toward the raging maelstrom of death. The closer we got, the better I could see the obsidian blades. Each one was about six inches long and looked easily capable of skewering a man. There were millions of the things out there, and my jaw clenched uncomfortably as I was reminded of what a woodchipper could do to human flesh. I stopped just shy of the desert, drawing my shield from my back.

  Ewan leaped into the eighth desert with a whoop and took off at a dead sprint, twisting and turning faster than the eye could see to avoid the blades. Those that struck him bounced harmlessly off the golden lion fur draped around his shoulders.

  “Showoff,” Dom grumbled.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said.

  Three blades immediately lodged into my shield, driving me back a step. I blinked in shock. Another blade went careening past Dom’s face, missing him by mere centimeters. I reached out and pulled him behind me so I could better shield him. Another blade went straight through Findlay, who stared down at his middle with a frown.

  “I suppose I should be grateful I’m dead,” he mused. “That would most certainly have been fatal.”

  “Not necessarily,” Sienna said, tapping her chin with a manicured nail. “The armor is built to withstand this desert. It would have at least bruised.”

  “Not the time for this discussion,” I huffed, leaning forward against the buffeting wind. Digging my heels into the sand, I pushed off with all my might and sprinted after Ewan. He was halfway across the desert by the time Dom and I caught up with him, ducked behind a large pillar of basalt.

  My shield resembled a pincushion by the time I reached his side. Dom sported a nasty cut on his neck where the armor gapped. It didn’t appear deep, but that flash of crimson frightened me.

  “You should have waited,” Dom hissed at Ewan. “We’re all going to the same place. Stop trying to run off.”

  Ewan’s face was cold and filled with rage. “You don’t order me around anymore, Finch. I’m a god. You’re a puny mortal. I could kill you any time I choose.”

  “Oh yeah? Bring it, Ewan.” Dom stepped back, pulling out his wand. Lightning crackled as dark storm clouds gathered above the swirling maelstrom.

  “Stop it!” I ground out, rocking back as several more blades knocked into my shield. One hit me directly in the temple and bounced off of my mask. It was still enough to make me dizzy for several seconds. “We don’t have time for this.”

  I had to shout above the swirling winds. I was tired and frustrated. We were at least halfway through and so far the armor seemed to be holding up, but these two stupid assholes were having a dick measuring competition at the worst possible times. It unnerved me to see Dom losing control. He was usually the measured one.

  The blades are toxic, Valerius said. Filled with ire.

  Shit. I checked Dom’s wound and noticed the flesh turning black. Similar cuts lined Ewan’s arm.

  “You wouldn’t survive this without her help,” Ewan said, savagely poking at the chink in Dom’s confidence. “You know you’re nothing. Just give up and turn back.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Dom hissed.

  “You’d be nothing but a shade without her,” he taunted. “In fact, there’s still time for that. Why don’t I just—”

  And then Ewan snatched the helmet right off Dom’s head, using the plume of red feathers to lift it off of his head.

  Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The wind continued to batter at us, the dark obsidian blades streaked like arrows through a battlefield, but it all seemed distant and unreal to me. Because I saw what Dom didn’t. An obsidian knife about the length of my forearm was hurtling toward his head. And I wasn’t going to be able to drop my shield and grab it out of the air in time. So I did the only thing I could think to do.

  I shoved my shoulder into Dom’s, knocking him to the ground, leaping into his place in front of Ewan. He registered the change just before the knife struck because his expression morphed from a self-satisfied smirk to a
n expression of outrage. But I had only seconds to enjoy it.

  The obsidian shard pierced my eye and buried itself deep into my skull. I felt a second of sickening pain and pressure and then blackness seized me totally, like God Almighty flicking the lights off in my brain.

  ***

  When I woke up, Dom was shouting.

  “I swear to God, I will fucking kill you, Saunders!”

  I struggled to open my eyes, my head throbbing like I’d gone all night at a kegger. The last time I could remember having a headache this splitting, I’d plunged headfirst off a Ferris wheel.

  “You think I wanted her to die?” Saunders bellowed. “It was supposed to be you!”

  “Don’t think I’m going to let this go. You are damn lucky she’s coming back, or I’d be dancing on your ashes, Saunders.”

  I sat up, and a dizzying wave of vertigo crashed over me. My stomach heaved and tried to expel its contents. Instead, I only succeeded in retching. I had nothing to give, not even bile. My searching eyes found Dom just in time to see him punch Ewan in the nose.

  Fair disclosure, my ovaries might have danced a jig at the sight. I liked to think myself just as progressive as the next New York woman, but when push came to shove, it was still gratifying to see the love of my life engaged in some good-old-fashioned caveman violence on my behalf.

  Ewan stumbled back a few steps, clearly not anticipating Dom’s strength. He blinked in surprise and raised a hand to his face, dabbing at the blood that leaked out of one nostril. Then his face split in a grin.

  “Well, well, well,” he said, eyeing the copper bracelet. “Nat siphoned off some of her powers to give you a boost.”

  “Shut your trap before I sew it shut,” Dom snarled. “There’s a lot of damage I can do to you without actually killing you.”

  Ewan adopted a look of mock surprise and brought a hand up to his chest for effect. “A moral, upstanding man such as yourself? Would a neutered house pet like you even be capable?”

  Dom’s eyes flashed with pure fire and he bared his teeth in a smile that would have made a lesser man run. “If you hurt Nat again, and you’ll find out just how capable I can be, Saunders.”

  I cradled my aching head in my hands with a groan.

  “Stop shouting. I have a death hangover from hell.”

  Dom finally seemed to notice I was awake. My left eye was cloudy, like it was full of milk. I could tell from his frown I must have looked pretty bad. He dropped to his knees beside me at once, examining the wound in my head that had no doubt partially healed. When he found nothing to fuss over some of the tension eased out of his body, and he drew me into a tight embrace.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered fervently. “You can’t go scaring me like that, Nat.”

  “What happened after I died?” I asked, rubbing my forehead with a grimace. A quick glance around showed we were no longer in the obsidian desert. Someone must have dragged my carcass out.

  “Ewan slung you over his shoulder and we made a mad dash out of the desert. I’m surprised it took so little time for you to heal. You’re normally out for a couple of hours at least. You can’t have been down for more than fifteen minutes this time.”

  “It’s because we’re in Mictlan. This is where my consciousness goes during the healing process. Since I’m already here, maybe it doesn’t take as long for body and brain to regenerate.”

  Even with both men silent, my headache still pounded and sound still roared all around us. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. Beside us wound a river as wide as the Nile, with dark, rushing waters.

  “Wash your wounds,” I said, pointing at the water.

  “You’re both acting homicidal. Those blades were poisonous.”

  Don’s eyes widened, and he reached for his neck, where black veins were spreading like cobwebs. He shuffled over to the edge, cupping his hands, but then paused and looked up at Sabrina.

  “It’s clean,” she shrugged, “but I wouldn’t drink it.”

  “Some guide you’re turning out to be,” he muttered, as he scrubbed his neck and arms. Ewan and I followed suit. The water was refreshing after nearly a week in the desert. I splashed some on my face and let it drip down, noticing it turn red as I rinsed off the congealed blood on my scalp.

  My vision was finally getting clearer, and the oppressing anxiety I’d been carrying washed away, leaving me feeling more like myself than I had in days. The water was brackish, and moving quickly. White rapids bubbled over sharp stones midway through. On the far bank, I could make out yellow pyramids, and obsidian sculptures trimmed with gold.

  “Looks like we finally made it back to civilization,” Ewan said, his face relaxing into an easy smile.

  “Just one problem,” I said. “How the hell are we supposed to cross that?”

  I could tell the journey across was going to be difficult. While it appeared calm and smooth near the shore, the water rippled deceptively, hinting at swift currents beneath. It reminded me of the canoeing trip I’d taken in college, where my vessel was wrapped in half around a tree trunk by a dangerous, invisible current.

  I wasn’t really expecting an answer, so it surprised me when my grandfather spoke up. I’d been so muddled I hadn’t even noticed the shades, hovering by the riverside.

  “You’ll need an Itzcuintli,” he said.

  “A what?” I answered faintly. I swore to myself that the moment I got back, I was learning everything there was to know about my ancestors’ mythology. There really wasn’t an excuse for me at this point. I had Google and a library card. It wasn’t that difficult.

  “A dog that was raised alongside the deceased person and put down shortly after they were. They were designed to be guardians and to help the soul they accompanied cross this river.”

  I frowned. “Well that would be awesome, but I didn’t exactly sacrifice a dog.”

  My Abuelo grinned and motioned toward a small figure crouched beside him.

  “She’s been waiting for you.”

  A golden retriever lay panting happily at my grandfather’s ghostly ankles. Her ears perked up hopefully when my attention fixed on her. My face broke into a wide grin and I felt the first kindlings of joy in my chest since I could remember.

  “Molly!” I exclaimed, recognizing the pet I’d grown up with.

  The retriever climbed to its feet and bounded over to me, its full weight hit me like a cold battering ram. I fell to the ground with Molly on top of me, lathering my face with wet, cold, ghostly kisses. I pushed her muzzle away from me with a laugh.

  “Down girl! Seriously, you’re so cold!”

  Molly didn’t climb off of my chest until she’d gotten her fill of kisses. When she was through, she sat beside me, tail thumping on the ground eagerly. I reached down and carefully patted her on the head, rubbing her ghostly fur. It didn’t feel as good as it had in life, but it was still nice to know that my dog had found an afterlife.

  “Wait,” I said, “does this mean—?”

  “I performed the rites after she died a natural death,” my grandfather said.

  “So what do we do?” Ewan drawled. “The rest of us don’t have a dog.”

  “Yeah, because you probably tortured yours and buried it under the house,” I muttered.

  “Beneath the swingset, actually,” Ewan corrected mildly.

  I shuddered. His casual references to his psychopathy never failed to creep me out.

  “We’ll have to fashion a raft,” I decided. “That way she can take us all at once.”

  “With what exactly? There is a stark lack of vegetation,” Ewan said.

  I scanned the shore for anything that might be useful, but it was bare. Then I noticed movement under the water. Tall stalks of some kind of reed shot up in bunches from between cracks in the river bed, waving with the current. I plunged my hand under the surface, and tore out a handful. Then I heated my palm, using it like a blow-dryer until the stakes were dry and
firm.

  “Nice work MacGyver, but what are you going to bind them with?”

  I hesitated before biting into my palm. I wasn’t sure if Bryne had shown Ewan this little trick, but if not, I was teaching him to fashion objects with blood, a skill he could use against me in our final battle.

  The blood dribbled out slowly, more of goo than anything else. It seemed to be getting thicker the longer I stayed dead. I stretched it like saltwater taffy, wrapping it between my fingers like yarn. It took several minutes to have enough to construct the raft and another two in order to fashion reins and a collar that could attach to Molly. Ewan watched the process with rapt attention.

  The raft was a smooth plank about six feet wide and fashioned with three seats. Molly waited patiently as I fixed the collar and yolk to her neck. Her tail wagged energetically the entire time. I turned to my companions at last and gestured for Ewan to board.

  “Douchery before beauty,” I said with false sweetness.

  Ewan just smiled, not at all wounded by the petty insult. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  The serpent wiggled beneath my skin, making me jump and sending a shiver up my spine. God, I was never going to get used to the reminders it was real and living beneath my skin. It took all of my concentration to keep the threads firm enough to hold the raft together, but hopefully the trip would be short. With Molly at my side, I struck my spear into the bank and pushed us off, keeping my eye fixed on the opposite shore. An enormous stone arch, carved through solid rock, created a narrow channel.

  We’d barely even begun when a frighteningly familiar shape rose to the surface of the churning water, its elongated snout unnaturally large and poised to snap Ewan in two. The crocodile grinned at us and then descended onto the redneck with apparent relish, a reptilian bellow of triumph escaping its throat.

  chapter

  17

  FOR THE SECOND TIME WHEN facing an enormous reptile, I defied that primitive part of my brain and decided to attack first—kicking its gaping jaw like a field goal. The crocodile flipped tail over teakettle and landed downriver with a truly enormous splash.