Shadow Flare (The Ruby Callaway Trilogy Book 2)

by D. N. Erikson

  “It’s coming, Ruby.” Alice’s terrified voice was breathless.

  I checked the chamber. Two shells left.

  “The things I do for you, Roark.” I slid back into the water, feeling sludge flood inside my boots. Steadying the gun against my aching chest, I yelled into the darkness, “Get on the walkway! Toward the light!”

  Alice was running too fast to answer. The hydra was pretty damn angry, too, hauling his half-ton form at sled-dog speed through the waste. Peering into the black, I finally saw Alice emerge and vault onto the concrete.

  The beast kept charging, right on her heels.

  Headed straight for me.

  Ten feet felt like ten millimeters as I stared at its ugly faces. The stumpy head, pink and raw and replacing the one I’d chopped off only minutes before, came with a mate.

  All its jaws opened as it bore down.

  I pulled the trigger, pumped the shotgun, and then aimed again.

  The gun flashed as the hydra crashed into me, sending us both beneath the water’s surface.

  32

  Three showers wouldn’t be enough to get clean after that encounter. But I had little time to bask in my victory or complain about hygiene, because when I surfaced the first thing I heard was, “Well, you passed.”

  “Danny?”

  A rich voice boomed off the walls as sewage and blood dripped from my hair. “I’m afraid Danny is no longer available.”

  “So you killed him,” I said.

  “Relax,” the man said. “You passed the test, remember?”

  I wheeled around, pointing the empty shotgun at the approaching footsteps. I found they belonged to a dwarf, his red beard down to his stout chest.

  “I don’t do business with people who can’t pass the test,” he said, stroking his beard sagely. His blue eyes were filled with a strange mirth, like this was very amusing. “Come.”

  From somewhere in the shadows, a meek Alice said, “Where’s Danny?”

  “There was a hostile takeover.” The dwarf tossed a small axe back and forth that glowed with supernatural energy. The power of flame, probably. Useful down here, since it doubled as a torch.

  I pushed myself out of the foul water, keeping the gun trained on the dwarf. “You answered the signal.”

  “A man tells you many things when you remove his fingers.” He stopped tossing the battle axe. I heard Alice gasp slightly. “Danny wasn’t a good man.”

  “You won’t see me shedding any tears,” I said. “But we came here for a medicine man.”

  “It’s as if you’re in a hurry.” The dwarf’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. “Expediting matters does get expensive.”

  “How much is your life worth?”

  “To me, quite a bit.” The dwarf breathed out slowly. “But you’re empty, I’m afraid. And quite pale.”

  “You want to bet the house on that?”

  “I wouldn’t want to play poker with you.” The dwarf turned his back. “Too bad I heard the clicks.”

  “I’ve got a knife, too,” I said.

  “Too bad that won’t get you any medicine.”

  I holstered the shotgun and followed him along the winding walkway.

  “We don’t even know his name,” Alice called from the darkness as she scrambled to get up. The knife clattered when she picked it up.

  “Gimli,” the dwarf responded.

  “Really?” Alice sounded like she’d met a hero.

  “Your friend needs to get out more,” the dwarf said. “Reads too many books.” The burning axe disappeared around the corner. “I’m afraid my parents weren’t so inspired. Name’s Jack.”

  “Ruby,” I said. Roark had already told half the damn city, anyway. No reason to keep it a secret. The chips would fall where they were meant to. “The one who fell off the essence truck is Alice.”

  Jack snorted, a great big belly roar of a sound. He stopped at a maintenance door. His fingers worked an old-fashioned dial lock which clicked open after a few turns. The hinges groaned mightily as he stepped inside.

  I waited for Alice to catch up and grabbed the knife from her.

  “I don’t trust him,” she said in a low voice.

  “You shouldn’t.” I shook blood off the edge before sliding it back into the scabbard. “Danny wasn’t a friend of yours, right?”

  “No, he was an asshole and a creep.”

  “Good.” Vengeance was off the menu. We could do business and get the hell out of here.

  The room was wide, but the low ceiling made everything feel cramped. Rows of rusty metal shelves housed artifacts and goods of all types. In the back of the dimly lit space, I spotted a rattling cage containing a true baby hydra. It wailed when it saw Alice and I. Or, rather, smelled and heard us. We were soaked in the blood of its family, and even its infantile mind demanded its pound of flesh.

  Some emotions were primal.

  Jack placed the axe on a pair of hooks hanging from the wall and turned around with a smile.

  “Welcome to the Emporium.”

  “You’d get more customers if you didn’t kill half of them.”

  “Business isn’t about getting the most customers,” Jack said. “It’s about dealing with the right ones.”

  I shrugged, in no mood to argue. Maybe it was a good way to stay off the grid. The kind of person who could kill a hydra wasn’t the whiny breed of snitch who would run to the cops at the first sign of trouble.

  “So you require a healing potion,” Jack said, weaving in and out of the racks.

  “A very specific type,” I said. “An exhaustion displacement potion.”

  It’d basically cause my body to ignore all signs of fatigue and injury. Until the bill came due.

  I’d deal with that when the time came.

  “That’s quite dangerous to ingest, Ruby.”

  “Can you help or are you just wasting our time?”

  “That depends.” Jack stopped a few rows down, peering back through the rusty steel shelves. “You see, I know Silvia.”

  I stifled the urge to scream fuck and instead let a fake smile spread across my face. “And how is she?”

  “Alas, not very well.” Jack rocked the shelf back and forth, the sound echoing throughout the room. “Word has spread regarding her displeasure. Much of it stemming from your performance. Or lack thereof.”

  “I’ve been a little sick. And I have until tomorrow.”

  “Hey,” Jack said, holding his thick hands up like he was an innocent bystander. “Don’t explain it to me.”

  “Then who should I explain it to?”

  “Me.” Silvia’s voice filled the underground chamber, coming from all sides. I couldn’t tell whether it was a sorceress’ trickery, or just a function of the room’s acoustics. Either way, the entrance had its intended effect.

  I jumped slightly, my boots squishing. Trying to play things off nonchalantly, I slowly turned toward the vicinity of the cage. The wall had parted, revealing an exit—presumably one which didn’t require running a gauntlet of hydras.

  Silvia walked past the baby creature without a second glance. Her eyes were fiery, short punkish hair amping up the intensity considerably.

  “You’ve not done as I asked.”

  I glanced back at Jack, who shrugged and said, “When I saw you were up there, I put the pieces together. Money talks.”

  “What if I’d died because of the hydras?”

  “I’ve heard stories about you, Realmfarer. I never doubted your abilities.”

  “Then you know what I’ll do to you.”

  Jack let out a jovial laugh, but it didn’t take the wisps turning a sickly shade of yellow to know that it was empty and weak.

  Silvia snapped her fingers, and I turned my attention back to her.

  “I’m still working on your problem.”

  “And yet there are no results.” Silvia’s lab coat swished around her ankles as she walked toward me. “Why is that?”

  “Because you haven’t given me enough fucking ti
me,” I said.

  She stopped three feet away and coughed. “You smell terrible.”

  “Thank your resident entrepreneur’s screening process,” I said, jerking my thumb toward Jack.

  “You’re seeking an exhaustion displacement potion,” Silvia said. “That is powerful magic indeed. Volatile.”

  “I don’t suppose you know a guy.”

  Silvia reached into her coat and pulled out a tiny vial. “It is yours.”

  I reached for it, but smoke trailed off her fingers. That was all the warning I needed.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “I wanted you to do your job, Ruby,” Silvia said. “And now, I want everything that your beloved knows about MagiTekk.”

  “You want me to steal Roark’s files,” I said, before I could protest her calling him ‘my beloved.’ Now was not a time for semantics. “They’ll trace that back to him. He’ll be burned.”

  “These are not my concerns.” Silvia walked past. I heard Alice squeak slightly in surprise. I’d almost forgotten she was here. I turned, watching Silvia move. The wisps had dark, unpleasant intentions. “But you clearly require more incentives than your own well-being.”

  Silvia twisted her fingers through the air and whispered a word beneath her breath. Instantly, a serpent appeared on Alice’s arm, its fangs bared. She shrieked, trying to shake it off. The jaws snapped toward her neck, but Silvia twisted her fingers the other way and the reptile fell to the ground.

  Dead.

  Manifesting creatures, even small ones, was high level magic. Master level.

  Silvia trotted back toward me without another word, her chemically burned arms barely visible beneath the flowing lab coat. Her breaths were heavy, even as she did her best to disguise her strain.

  I suspect, that once upon a time, that spell would have been easy.

  “So we’ll keep the girl.”

  “She means nothing to me,” I said.

  “That’s okay.” Silvia offered me a joyless grin. “You still will not let her die.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Silvia placed the exhaustion displacement potion in my palm, her fingers lingering against my skin.

  “Because she reminds you of someone.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “Yourself.” Silvia pointed toward the exit. “There is less than 12 hours until the trucks leave, Realmfarer.” She snapped her fingers, and I felt a burning pain shoot up my arm. I rolled up the soggy leather jacket and looked at the sallow skin. A countdown ticked down beneath the surface, the numbers quivering with essence.

  “You’re fucking insane,” I said.

  “Tick tock, Realmfarer. Best not disappoint.”

  33

  When I tried to start the truck, I found the battery was dead. Because one damn thing couldn’t go right over the past two days. The adrenaline of the past hour had worn off, leaving me feeling weak and sick.

  I coughed into my arm, finding the skin tinged with bloody specks. The countdown timer on my skin glared back, the numbers ticking toward eleven hours.

  I needed treatment.

  I needed a bath.

  I needed a lot of things.

  I slammed the truck’s door and cursed. As first weeks on the job went, this one couldn’t have gone any worse. The Crusaders of Paradisum were dancing around, draining mana wellsprings with the help of MagiTekk—and protection from the higher-ups at the FBI. I didn’t know what Paradise on Earth meant for the rest of humanity, but I doubted we’d benefit.

  MagiTekk’s stock price sure as hell would from the ensuing war, though.

  Roark was probably dead, buzzards picking at his body somewhere in the desert.

  Stay calm.

  No reason to panic.

  But positive thinking wouldn’t help me out of this jam.

  Because there was the compounding issue of Silvia, who had chosen the absolute worst time to demand my help. Taking a few deep, rickety breaths, I took my belongings out of the truck. There was a spare IV needle and another dented canteen.

  On the seat, attached to the cigarette lighter, I saw Alice’s dinged up handset charging. I yanked it away.

  No passcode.

  Finally, a goddamn break.

  I found five missed calls from Roark, returning ours from earlier.

  I mashed his number, and he answered on the second ring.

  “What the fuck, Alice?”

  “I could say the same to you,” I said.

  “Ruby?” He sounded surprised. “Is Alice by your bed?”

  I looked back at the cracked, uneven parking lot covered in debris. “Not quite.”

  Roark sighed, putting two and two together. “You just don’t know how to sit still.”

  “Never was my strong suit.” It was relieving to hear his voice. “Since you didn’t come visit for two days.”

  I brought the handset away and groaned. Not the line I was going for.

  Again, I blamed any and all poor decisions on the IV drip.

  Which hadn’t been in my arm for the past hour.

  “I assume Alice told you about the wellsprings.”

  “She’s got a little work to do keeping secrets.”

  “It was a huge break, Ruby. No one’s seen a mana wellspring in—goddamn, ever.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” I said. “So what happened?”

  “Nothing happened. The wellspring was already dry, but I had to stay on site to oversee the investigation. I’m headed back now.”

  “Then you got lucky.” My heart beat a little faster. Although not that lucky. Because that meant the Crusaders of Paradisum were advancing toward their goals with startling speed.

  Almost like they had help in high places.

  “I’m coming back to put you back in bed.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  I stifled a cough and said, “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, you have radiation poisoning—”

  “Spare me the lecture.”

  Roark’s voice was quiet as he said, “You could die.”

  “Hasn’t happened yet,” I said. I considered asking him to pick me up, but vanity got the better of me. Smelling like I’d just crawled out of a dumpster was going to leave a lasting negative impression. Every one of these clothes needed to be burned, immediately, deadlines be damned.

  And I needed to be sent through an industrial car wash.

  When I got the chance, Jack and I were going to have a nice, long discussion at the end of my shotgun.

  Roark sighed after a long silence and said, “You need a ride?”

  “I need a haz-mat cleaning station.” I threw the jacket off into the parking lot. It was done. Irrecoverable. “Know anyone?”

  “I do, actually.” Roark rustled in the seat of his cruiser. “Unless you’re kidding.”

  “Definitely not.” The heat wasn’t helping matters.

  If Jack escaped the week alive, he should consider himself a very lucky dwarf.

  “You bring your meds at least?”

  I turned the exhaustion displacement vial over in my fingers. “I have what I need.”

  “Just wait there,” Roark said, like everything would be okay. “I’ll send someone.”

  And when I hung up and looked at the bright, perfect late day sun, I almost believed that I wasn’t royally screwed.

  34

  Two hours later, and I smelled better than I’d ever smelled in my life. And believe me, I double-checked everywhere. But all I got were hints of jasmine and lilac, like I’d just bathed in the pools of angels.

  Roark’s guy, as it turned out, was a sort of benevolent fixer named Zach, who seemed to have a solution for everything. I wished that I’d called him before heading to Jack, although he dealt in strictly mortal solutions.

  Nonetheless, I now had a new coat, clean skin, soft hair and two boxes of shotgun ammo.

  There was a buzz at th
e door, and I said, “Let him in.”

  The apartment automatically obliged, and I heard Roark’s familiar footsteps enter. He knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Ruby?”

  “Yeah, come in.” I finished loading the gun, looking up as he entered.

  His eyes widened, and my stomach fluttered, praying I no longer smelled like hydra blood and sewer muck. But then he said, “Jesus, it smells amazing in here.”

  “Your friend was very helpful.”

  “I should call him.” Roark sat beside me, the faint scent of his woody aftershave drifting through the air.

  “Nah, I think you’re doing all right.”

  “You look pale.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Anything I should know?”

  I cleared my throat and explained the latest. How the Crusaders and MagiTekk must’ve made some a backroom deal: the location of the springs for the essence suppression experiments. The psych ward, and how the mana had saved Donovan Martin’s life a hundred years ago.

  And the cathedral, which was probably sitting atop the biggest spring of all.

  I didn’t share about Silvia, or Alice Conway.

  That was my problem.

  I’d deal with it alone.

  “They’re gaining power,” I said. “Enough to keep a man from the brink of death.”

  “And what about you?”

  “What about me?” I fidgeted, unsure where the conversation was headed.

  Roark looked at my arm. I had my jacket on so that he couldn’t see Silvia’s countdown timer. “You’re not taking your meds.”

  I opened flap a little to show him the IV tube. “That’s all you get to see.”

  He smiled and said nothing. Tension simmered in the air until his phone rang. With a forlorn grin, he pulled the piece of glass from his pocket and answered.

  “Special Agent Roark.” His smile disappeared as the news came through the line. “No, I understand. Right away. Certainly.”

  He put the phone away slowly. The room was quiet enough to hear his stainless steel watch tick. I knew that was an illusion, but it still felt true.

  “That was my father,” Roark said. “My services are urgently needed.”