Raised in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy Book 2)

by K. F. Breene

  “You really are crazy,” she muttered. “Or ignorant of the extreme danger you’re about to face.”

  “Neither. I’m just good at my job.” And a different breed—literally—than the others in the MLE office.

  In the French Quarter, she tried to navigate around the milling crowds, jeering and laughing as they swigged drinks and slung beads.

  “It’ll take us forever to get through here,” she said, pounding on the wheel.

  I fired a quick text message to Smokey. Working. What’s up?

  Almost immediately I got a message back. Supernatural creature was in cemetery. Eating stomach. Changes into flock of birds. It’s gone now, but might come back. Tourist just found it. Cops called.

  “Oh man,” I said. “That thing made a stop across the street from my house. That ain’t right.”

  “It did?” Clarissa asked with wide eyes, her gaze dipping to my phone.

  “Yeah. This just got personal.”

  I reached for the door handle.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “It’ll be faster on foot. The captain gave me coordinates.”

  “But wait, I didn’t tell you about—”

  I jumped from the car, shut the door behind me, and hit the hood twice, telling her I was clear. I would figure out whatever it was she hadn’t told me. Before now, I’d always had very little information when I went in hot. The outcome was usually the same—tag and bag my mark.

  I jogged along the sidewalk, weaving in and out of people and keeping my eyes open. Some supernatural creatures could hide in plain sight. Since I hadn’t confronted this particular creature before, there was no telling what it might surprise me with.

  I crossed Bourbon Street. There were way too many people there. Instead, I worked toward the slower areas near the sighting. I wasn’t actually far from Darius’s home in the Brink. Ghost and vampire tours would be meandering around, not to mention people staggering home or heading to their lodgings. For a supernatural, it was a good place for a little dinner.

  I turned down a quieter street, dodged a horse and carriage carrying a man explaining French Quarter architecture to two tourists, and slowed. Laughter, a shout, and someone talking too loudly drifted toward me. Shoes scuffed against cement. Someone belched. Welcome to New Orleans, where the party never ended. My kinda town.

  I gripped the hilt of my sword and pulled it free, ignoring the surprised expression from a passerby. There was no need of a gun or even magic. If the creature needed a sword to the back, by golly, who was I to say boo?

  I walked a ways, not hearing anything foreign. No screams. No flocking birds. I typed a message to the captain, asking for new coordinates.

  It’s MIA. We’re hunting, came his reply. So he was on scene as well. That was rare. This thing had to be a doozie.

  I did love a challenge.

  Bring it in and we’ll get you partnered off, he sent. Their whereabouts came next.

  “Um…nope,” I muttered to myself. Working with one of the other agents would only slow me down.

  “Dude, have you seen the display?” a passing guy asked me, holding a pink plastic container half filled with a cocktail.

  I slowed and gave him my attention. His friend laughed and pointed the way they’d come. “It was gnarly. Seriously. Some guy in a costume went after some other guy. They staged the whole thing so people could see.”

  “It was awesome!” The first guy, younger twenties and with a shining upper lip from his drink, grinned. “Blood and guts all over the place. You should check it out. They’re probably still going.”

  I saw a cluster of people gathered in front of a doorway down the road, all with wide eyes and open mouths.

  Bingo.

  “I will, thanks,” I said.

  “Wait, was that a sword?” I heard one of the guys ask as I broke into a jog.

  “Gross,” a woman said as I neared, her eyes big and a smile curling her lips. “That’s really great makeup.”

  “It’s got to be a costume,” another said in a hush.

  I stopped beside them, peering into the open doorway protected by a small chain. The sign dangling from it told tourists it was a private residence and not to enter, and warned of a camera watching.

  I’d been past this residence a million times, and if the occupants were home, this door was usually open. They liked to be one with the Quarter.

  Bad move, it turned out. It had made them easy pickings.

  At the back of the room, hunched over a still form lying on its back, was a creature with a leathery torso and muscular legs ending in huge wolf paws. Blood spread along the cream-colored linoleum floor. Pretty gross.

  “Well, ’ullo, lovely,” I said in a horrible British accent. “’Ave you come for tea?”

  The creature’s head jerked up, and the crowd jumped as one. Blood dripped from its remarkably human face.

  And I thought the vampire monster form was gross, with the swampy look and the claws. This thing was way worse.

  “Scatter, you guys,” I said to the bystanders around me, slashing the chain with my sword.

  “Are you a part of it?” someone asked as the creature straightened up.

  “No, but you might be if you hang around.” I launched into the room. A chair tumbled as I pushed it out of the way.

  The creature lashed out at me. I dodged, letting the long talons on the ends of its three-fingered hand sail past my face. It screeched like a bird of prey before blasting into a swarm of birds, much too close together to be natural.

  “Holy shit,” someone exclaimed. “How did he do that?”

  “Magic,” someone else said as the mass of birds swirled around me, scratching at my head.

  I sliced my sword through the air, hitting one or two birds before the swarm rushed through the house. Without delay, I followed, jumping over a couch and seeing an open back door. Maybe it hadn’t snuck in through the front after all.

  Once outside, I watched it swoop into the air, rolling and swirling, like ink in water, before heading west. I took two fast steps and leapt onto a small storage shed before launching myself onto the wooden fence. I ran along it, my balance perfect in the heat of the moment, before jumping onto a rooftop and taking off across the city after it, using the jammed-together houses as a kind of multileveled sidewalk.

  In the distance, barely discernible, I saw the swarm dive downward. The creature didn’t plan to go far. Good.

  At a gap in houses, I dropped down and ripped out my phone.

  “Captain,” I said, barely out of breath. “I’ve got a sighting. That sucker flies.”

  “What’s your twenty?”

  “Heading east. I’m at Ursulines and Dauphine. It touched down four or five blocks away. It turns into a half man…thing, and a half big-legged wolf…thing. That’s when it isn’t a flock of birds.”

  “Reagan, if they’re old enough, they can change sex at will. They can also adopt a true human form, though usually disfigured. These things start out human. Stay vigilant. I’ll meet you there. And whatever you do, don’t engage on your own.”

  No promises.

  Chapter Four

  A car honked as I darted out in front of it to cross the street. When I hit the sidewalk, a tourist stepped in my path with his hands raised, beads swinging from them. “Show me your tits,” he yelled.

  I punched him in the throat.

  He made a choking sound as his hands fell from the sky. Served him right. I wasn’t that kind of girl.

  I pushed him out of my way as his friends screamed with laughter.

  Idiots.

  A deep-throated shout caught my attention. Then another from the east. A lithe and agile wolf ran up ahead. One I recognized. It was a shifter. A real shifter, not an aswang turned shifter. They also helped police the Brink, which was what we called the human world, from supernatural creatures.

  Boy, hopefully there weren’t more of those aswangs, because that might get confusing for the poor shif
ters.

  I crossed a grassy area where homeless were gathered. To the right was a collection of jazz bars where my good friend Red, a weak shifter and an excellent source of information, always hung out. Another shout drew me forward, into an area blanketed by darkness. I could see in it just fine, one of my (not as special) traits.

  “Don’t go that way,” a homeless man said in a scratchy voice. “They got trouble up that way.”

  A surge of adrenaline had me pushing faster. “Thanks,” I said, not heeding his words.

  After another half-dozen steps, I saw a body crouching with his hands held out. Getting closer, I realized it was the captain, his attention focused on a space between a house and a fence.

  I stopped in front of the house. “Hey,” I whispered.

  He started, and something in his hands crackled. He blew out a breath and cocked his head, looking at his fists. When no magic issued forth, he glanced my way. He pursed his lips like he was saying shhhhhh. He jerked his head toward the space he’d been focusing on a moment before.

  I eased my head around the corner, where there was similar tableau to the horror show in the Bourbon Street house. Another poor sap had had his number drawn. He was a big guy, too. As for the creature, this time the torso was a woman’s, still leathery. The bottom half looked the same. It was sucking an intestine like it was a piece of spaghetti.

  Wow. That was one of the grossest things I’d seen in a long time. It was the stuff of nightmares.

  “What’s the plan?” I asked softly.

  “We’re trying to get in position. We’re still waiting on a few of our people.” Nodding toward the walkie-talkie attached to the side of his belt, he said, “Take this. It’s for you. I have my earpiece in.”

  I glanced at the space between the house and fence, then darted to the captain’s side of the space and grabbed the walkie-talkie. It went into my pouch, since I couldn’t very well hold it while fighting. Unfortunately, my pouch was only so big, and the bulky, out-of-date equipment made it hard to close.

  “Do you have the entrapment spell?” he whispered.

  Probably. I had no idea. I wasn’t good at keeping track of that stuff, since I rarely used it. I nodded anyway.

  “Get it out. On my mark, we’ll all throw it at the thing. It’s the only way to prevent it from getting away.”

  I made no move to dig through my overburdened pouch. It would make too much noise and take too long. “Why don’t we just kill it? I can sneak in there and get it done. The trick is not announcing your presence before you lunge at it. Lesson learned.” I winked to show I’d learned my lesson after the last hiccup.

  “This is too dangerous, Reagan. One swipe and you’re done. We wait and do it as a team. The others should be in position soon.”

  That creature probably wouldn’t be there long enough for this crew to get into position—I knew how slowly they worked—and we couldn’t let it get away. The thing had taken out at least two people, possibly three if it had found someone in the cemetery. Besides, I was much too impatient for those shenanigans. “Okay, here’s a better idea. You guys get ready. I’ll run in there. If I don’t kill it by the time you’re up and running, you trap it. Then I’ll kill it. Good?”

  “Reagan—”

  His tone said he was going to say no, so I got moving before I could hear the order to stay put. The trick was, you couldn’t get into trouble if you didn’t hear the command.

  Hopefully. It was worth a shot, anyway.

  I ran around the house until I found a way onto the roof. I broke a shutter, but I got up there. I’d need to remember to leave a note.

  On top of the abnormally steep incline, I made my way to the side of the building where the creature was still feasting. Once there, I looked down at it, hunched over its prey like a fat guy at a buffet. Good gracious, what a mess it was making. It was really going to town.

  A muffled voice sounded from my pouch. The creature jerked up and looked around.

  Crap!

  I backed away from the edge before the creature could see me, quickly took out the walkie-talkie, then threw it as hard as I could. The distant racket of plastic and metal breaking apart a ways away melted into the sounds of the city. Back at the edge of the roof, I watched while the creature continued its look around and then dove back into its main course.

  The walkie-talkie chatter probably meant they were in position. Hopefully, because this was about to kick off in a big way.

  I’d sheathed my sword before climbing the roof, and it would have to stay there for now. If I climbed down one-handed, I’d risk falling on my head, and jumping from this height with such a steep incline would probably have the same effect. Knocking oneself out was not the first step to winning a fight.

  I gripped the edge of the roof with my fingers, hurled myself over, and then hit the side of the building with my feet and pushed off. I spun in the air like a cat and landed with a bounce-step. Sticking the landing would’ve been cooler, but I definitely got style points.

  The creature jerked up again, a screech gurgling through the blood in its mouth.

  You are the worst!

  I didn’t want to risk saying it out loud in case the thing burst into the flock of birds. I probably didn’t have long as it was.

  I ripped out my sword and lunged forward.

  The creature straightened and swiped. I met its two-fingered hand with my blade, lopping it off.

  “Killing those birds took out part of your body, huh?” I said, dodging a swipe from its other hand. “Good to know.” I stabbed forward, getting the side of its stomach.

  It screeched again and turned away, its form going blurry. It was about to change.

  “Trap it,” I yelled, jumping at it. I sliced downward, catching its shoulder. A talon scraped my leather pants as the creature howled and twisted.

  I jumped up and wrapped my legs around its neck, then ripped my body to the side and around. Its neck cracked. I let go with my legs and fell to all fours. My sword clattered away.

  The creature’s head at an unnatural angle, it came at me, its good arm swinging. Its human face shifted into the glower of a grotesque monster with huge fangs. I’d gone and pissed it off.

  “Holy beekeepers, what don’t you turn into?” I rolled to the side and grabbed my sword as magic buzzed around us.

  “Get out of there, Reagan, we’ve got it,” Garret yelled from atop the fence behind me.

  I dodged a foot trying to smash me as the creature righted its head. “Fast healing. Dang it. I don’t like this thing very much. At least it’s mostly slow.”

  “No, you’re just damn fast,” the captain called. “Get clear.”

  “You’re blocking my catch!” Garret threw a casing. A spell erupted out of it and blocked off the thing’s upward escape. Another burst of magic materialized, putting up a wall. Then another, a second wall.

  “This is mine,” I said, trying to get around the thing and stab it without also tearing down the spells with my magic-filled sword.

  “Get clear, then put up your wall,” the captain yelled.

  “I don’t have that spell handy,” I said through gritted teeth.

  The thing realized what was happening. Its edges went blurry again as it paused, changing. Hello, weakness.

  I took a quick step forward and stabbed. My blade sank into its mid-back.

  The aswang howled in anguish. It writhed, folding in on itself before turning back to face me. Its jaws opened, inhumanly distended, issuing forth a growling gurgle. I had no idea what was happening, but its breath could put Clarissa’s car to absolute shame. I nearly passed out from the fumes.

  Garret yelled my name. Before I could take another step back to get clear of the stench, something small and black worked out of the creature’s mouth. Almost like a wisp of smoke, a little bird flapped my way. I brought up my sword to kill the magic, an easy feat, since it was moving so slowly, but without warning, a green fireball blasted into the space between the creature a
nd me.

  Weak magic that seemed to come from Garret, but strong enough to somewhat damage normal human skin, it raked across my face and ate away my eyebrows. Luckily, I wasn’t a normal human, and soaked in the delicious heat, feeling the burn deep inside of me, my own special magic answering the fire’s call. When it had died away, I saw that the little bird was gone.

  Survival mode kicking in—I’d need to explain why the green fire hadn’t burned me—I yanked at my pouch’s zipper, grabbed an empty casing at random, pinched it, and only then realized it wasn’t actually empty.

  Donkey balls!

  I threw it away from me, no idea what it was in my haste.

  Another wall went up, the same spell the others had used. Hopefully no one would notice it had happened after the fact.

  I staggered away and dug around for an empty casing. Clearly putting my hand out for all those free spells hadn’t been a good idea after all. Hindsight.

  I put my hand to my face, racking my brain for an excuse I could give for being unharmed. That magical fire had killed the little bird, so it should have been plenty strong to blister my face. People couldn’t know my skin was fireproof. That kind of thing raised eyebrows.

  Not on me, of course, since I no longer had any, thanks to Garret. It was a good thing Callie, my mage friend, was so good at regrowing them.

  “Reagan,” the captain said as he ran up, out of breath.

  The creature writhed on the ground before crumbling to ash. So it was definitely dead, then.

  “Are you okay?” Captain Lox gripped my shoulders and peered into my eyes. His brow furrowed as his gaze roamed my face.

  “I used a spell to ward away the fire,” I blurted.

  The furrow deepened.

  Now on to important matters. “That kill went to me, right?” I asked. “That was mine, not Garret’s? I was the one who stabbed it.”

  “Yes,” the captain said, releasing me and taking a step back, his confusion still evident. “You killed it. But without us, you probably wouldn’t have, so you’ll only get a fraction of the bonus. The rest will be divided.”