by Sonya Clark
Nate’s phone beeped, the screen lighting up with a map he’d downloaded before leaving the city. He slowed and flicked the blinker to alert the other vehicles of the impending turn. Twenty feet of bumpy terrain later, they came to the road.
He relaxed somewhat as the ride smoothed. “You coming to Vadim’s birthday party?”
“He’s having a party?” Only Vadim would think to have a party under these conditions.
“He’s gonna open up the dance floor for a night, waive the cover charge. Two free drinks for everybody, even.”
“Free drinks? Wow. Is he dying or something?”
Nate chuckled. “He just wants people to have a good time for a change. There’s gonna be about a dozen of us meeting in the railway kitchen at midnight. Lizzie said she’s making a cake.”
“Now I’m really scared.” Tuyet grinned.
“Yeah, me too.”
An orange light flickered in the darkness. She tensed immediately. “Did you see that?”
“Yeah. Think it’s hijackers?” His voice had turned to gravel. “The scary kind, I mean.”
“It’s closer to the city than they normally get, but who knows?” She scanned the night for any other light, finding nothing. “I’ll tell the others to keep their eyes open.” The volunteers were equally split between Normal and Magic Born, with a witch in each vehicle so they could trancehack to communicate.
Tuyet didn’t want to take her eyes off the road or surrounding trees so she tranced into his phone and sent a quick message to the two other vehicles. Light spotted, advise caution. For a brief moment the blue-white of cyberspace lit up the interior of the van. She quashed it, dropping out of trance with a hard jerk.
The van topped a rise. Bright headlights in orange and red flooded the night. Tuyet threw her arm up to shield her eyes as Nate slammed on the brakes. Shouts could be heard from outside.
Nate said, “Have you dealt with these people before?”
Their colors indicated a group who called themselves River Ghost. Based within sight of the Mississippi, they ventured farther afield for hijacking jobs when supplies ran low. They didn’t like to work too close to their home base, which she respected as smart. They also preferred to shoot rather than talk, something she respected for altogether different reasons.
The New Corinth group had only stun guns, no serious firepower. Real guns were too difficult and expensive to procure, and the consequences for a Magic Born getting caught anywhere near one were far too high. Tuyet had a few tucked away for a rainy day, but this wasn’t the kind of operation for them.
A man with a rifle slung across his front approached the van and pounded on the hood. “Everybody out!”
Nate glanced at her as he reached for the door handle. “Hope you brought your badass.”
“I never leave home without it.” She stepped from the vehicle slowly, hands up. They were outnumbered and definitely outgunned, but if the leader was reasonable they might be able to leave with some of the much-needed food.
A voice from one of the rear River Ghost vehicles called out, “Which one of you bitches is in charge of this pathetic outfit?”
Tuyet fought the urge to indulge in some creative swearing and stepped forward. “That would be me, Doran.”
River Ghost members parted as the team’s leader made her way to the front. “Hey!” She swung a flashlight up. Tuyet blinked against the harsh light. “I know you!”
“Hello, Doran.” Tuyet kept her voice polite, hopeful she could still manage the situation.
Doran slapped the arm of her nearest gunman. “Yeah, I know this bitch. She thinks she’s all kinds of hot shit, with her city ways and her city magic.” The woman stepped closer to Tuyet, grinning. “Your fancy city magic doesn’t mean shit out here, cupcake.”
Tuyet bit back a retort. “We’re just here for some cargo, that’s all. We don’t mean to be any trouble to anyone.”
“As if you could be.” Doran eyed Nate appreciatively. “He yours?”
“He’s a friend and part of my team.” She put just enough warning in her tone to remind Doran of the last time they’d crossed paths.
Doran’s grin widened. “What kind of haul did you get?”
“Food.” It was best to keep it simple.
“Just food?”
“The rations aren’t enough inside the zone,” Nate said. “We’re just trying to supplement.”
Tuyet wanted to scream at Nate to shut the hell up. He’d already drawn the psycho’s eye with his looks. The last thing he needed to do was go looking for her attention. Plus, the less said, the better. He had no idea what these people were like. She started to speak but Doran beat her to it.
“The rations aren’t enough inside the zone?” A hard, grating laugh fell from her lips. “No shit, pal. But what do you expect when you allow yourself to be treated like fucking animals at the zoo? You take your scraps like good little witches and you say, ‘Thank you,’ and slink back into the nasty little hovel they let you live in.”
Tuyet stepped between them, the movement of her body through the headlights throwing shadows across the tree line. “No harm, no foul, Doran. Let’s just work this out and get moving.”
Doran stood half a head taller than Tuyet’s medium height and packed considerably more muscle. If that wasn’t intimidating enough, there was the shotgun strapped to her back to consider. Tuyet knew from past experience that the woman had other weapons hidden on her as well. The question was, had she left her most dangerous weapon at home? Memories of the time before the last time they’d tangled made Tuyet hope that Doran had.
Nonetheless, she held her ground and stared at the River Ghost bandit.
Doran kept her eyes on Tuyet but turned her head a fraction to address her nearest minion. “Take it.”
Nate said, “What?”
“Take it all,” Doran said with a smile.
“No!” Nate surged forward, caught by two River Ghost men on either side. “There are kids in FreakTown who need that food!”
“We’ve got kids to feed too.” Doran began to walk away.
Tuyet said, “Don’t do this. Let’s work something out.”
“You’re in my world now, cupcake,” she called over her shoulder. “What I say goes.”
Tuyet drew a deep breath. The act called forth power that spiraled up from deep inside and coiled like a snake ready to strike. She had one chance to make this work. They couldn’t afford to use their stun guns, not when River Ghost had firearms. But if she could make a statement, maybe Doran would respond. Displays of strength were respected by these people, so Tuyet intended to put on a show.
The River Ghost bandits traveled in trucks and SUVs as old as what the New Corinth group had scrounged, but their vehicles were modified for tougher use. Even so, they had electronics. Tuyet started with that, casting a wide net to gather all of the vehicles’ computer systems under her control as she dove into a working trance. She shut the rumbling engines off, the sudden quiet jarring.
Confused voices called out. Nate edged closer, practically vibrating with the anticipation of a fight. Doran turned back to face her, a mix of amusement and annoyance on her face.
Tuyet went for the headlights next. The night plunged into darkness. Nate moved quickly, disarming the nearest River Ghost. The other four in their group acted just as quickly, the drivers headed back into their vehicles and the others engaging with members of River Ghost. Tuyet was aware of it all. The sounds of the fight reached her through the dark blue haze of trance. She kept her focus on her task, pushing virus hexes into the vehicle computers. Every system networked into each car’s computer would be affected and soon inoperable, which would make the vehicles little more than a dusty art exhibit for twenty-year-old autos.
Nate and the other two drivers—one Magic Born, one Norm
al—flanked Tuyet. She turned on the headlights again, the sudden brightness meant to be disorienting. It worked on most of the River Ghost group, except for Doran, of course. The leader still stood calmly in the middle of the chaos, gazing at Tuyet.
Tuyet smiled as she wove a spell similar to calling on neon. It siphoned energy from the headlights, the night once again plunging into darkness, this time slowly. Tuyet gathered the energy under her control then directed it outward in a wide blast. Every member of River Ghost was caught in it. Even Doran was knocked to her butt. Dirt and chips of busted asphalt swirled in the air in the aftermath.
There was nothing to be gained by lingering or gloating. “Let’s go,” Tuyet said. Nate and the others began to move.
A tiny light split the dark, flickering in the faint breeze. Doran held out a lighter, her grin maniacal in the play of fire and shadow. “Better luck next time, chica.”
“Hurry!” Tuyet backpedaled toward the van.
Doran called out, “Juanita! Mama needs you.”
Shit. Tuyet grabbed the stun gun clipped to her belt. A car door slammed and the temperature plummeted. What had been a mild breeze quickly whipped into a high wind that tore at her hair and clothes and tossed grit into her eyes. A funnel cloud as tall and wide as an adult took shape. From behind it, a child stepped into view.
Juanita joined her mother. “What do you need, Mama?”
“Let me think, baby. Maybe a thunderstorm.” Her eyes flicked to the stun gun in Tuyet’s hand. “Or maybe a tornado. But a big one, you know. A really big one.” Humor filled her voice.
The last thing Tuyet felt like doing was laughing. Concentration painted the little girl’s face, molding her soft features into hard angles and flat planes. She couldn’t have been older than ten, but she was already one of the most powerful witches Tuyet had ever crossed paths with, and that was saying a lot.
She tossed her stun gun to the ground. “Okay, okay. You win this round.”
“Tuyet...” Nate said.
She shook her head. “Forget it. We’re outmatched here.”
Doran stood and took her daughter’s hand. “Yes, you are. Now fix my cars while I decide if I want to be nice or not.”
Tuyet did as ordered, frustration chafing her.
Juanita tugged on her mother’s hand. Doran leaned down so the little girl could whisper in her ear. The child wore a solemn expression but Tuyet knew the kid had some of her mother’s offbeat humor. She’d seen it, or rather heard her giggling as she chased Tuyet with lightning bolts.
Tuyet suppressed a shudder. Weather magic unnerved her.
Doran straightened. “Juanita has convinced me to be generous. You can take what you can carry.”
“Oh, come on,” Tuyet said. “One vehicle. Just let us keep one.”
“Tell you what. I’ll leave it up to you. You can either keep one vehicle, or you can take what food you can carry. I’ll even give you a whole ten seconds to think about it.”
“God damn it, Doran.”
“Watch your language around the kid. You’re down to five seconds.”
Tuyet weighed their options. The walk back to New Corinth would be bad, but coming back with no food might be worse. Infant formula especially was badly needed. The rations had not been increased despite almost all of the Magic Born in FreakTown losing their off-zone jobs. It would be weeks before the underground could get them another shipment of supplies.
“We’ll take what we can carry,” she said quietly. Nate went to work immediately, going through the van to reach boxes of formula cans.
One of the younger Normal volunteers approached Tuyet. “There’s no way we can walk all the way back to New Corinth. We’ve got to leave the food.”
Tuyet strode to the open van doors. “Stay if you want. We’re going.”
“But—”
“Nope. No buts. This is it.” She forced a box of formula into his hands. “Welcome to the suck.”
Nate laughed as he shrugged a full duffel bag onto his back.
The only other woman in the group, also a witch, walked up with bottles of water perched on the boxes she carried. “Everybody grab a bottle.”
Tuyet shoved one into an empty pocket of her cargo pants. “Everyone stay close. If we push we can make it to the tunnels before daybreak. Let’s go.” She didn’t wait to see if the volunteer who’d protested came with them. He was inexperienced, but he wasn’t totally stupid. He’d make the walk out of fear of what Doran and the River Ghosts would do to him.
Nate tossed the van keys at Doran as he passed her. “Nice meeting you.”
“A duffel bag!” Doran nodded in appreciation. “Good thinking.” She locked eyes with Tuyet. “The big guy’s a keeper.”
“I’ll be sure and tell his wife.”
Doran laughed. “Get out of my sight, city witch.”
Tuyet adjusted the boxes she carried to make them more comfortable and refused to think about the miles ahead. Instead, she would think about the single steps. One by one, they’d get there.
Hours and miles later, she climbed the stairs to her tiny apartment. Slowly. Painfully. Grime covered every inch of her. Sweat matted her hair into snarls and tangles. Exhaustion had long since settled heavily into her bones. They’d made it back safe, if worse for wear, with at least some food to show for it. Now all she wanted to do was take a shower and fall into bed.
Tuyet leaned against the door as she swiped the key card. The door beeped and unlatched before she realized something was missing.
Her wards. She never left the apartment without activating the magical wards designed to discourage intruders. Glamours woven into the spell made the wrong number appear on the door, or sometimes they showed stacks of debris that made it seemingly impossible to reach. Should someone forge past the glamours, electric shock awaited them.
But now the wards were gone, dissolved into stray energy that lingered as nothing stronger than static electricity. Tuyet shook off the weariness and tried to think. Who? How?
The door opened, her past staring straight at her.
“Hi, honey.” Her former Magic Ranger team leader wore a familiar, insouciant grin. “I’m home.”
Tuyet did the first thing she could think of. She put her fist in his face.
Chapter Three
2060
Hayes reeled from the punch and blinked tears from his eyes. Blood leaked from his throbbing nose. Worse, she was getting away. He picked himself up and launched into an ungainly run, one hand applying pressure to his face. His left knee burned with pain from a kick and his right foot screamed in agony where she’d planted one of her high heels. He shouted into the receiver in his watch as he turned a corner. “Osman, get on the CCTV footage, now!”
Hayes came to a halt as he reached a crowd of people leaving a theater. He searched for a sign of her, waiting for the agent he’d contacted to get back to him. It was rare to encounter enemy agents on U.S. soil. This was more likely a case of corporate espionage. He was dressed in a civilian suit, in an area frequented by defense contractors who worked at the various campuses. Rather than specifically targeting him, she’d probably been trolling for whatever she could find via trancehacking into any electronics on display.
The fact that she’d been able to get deep enough into his watch to reach the really sensitive information and trigger an alert was cause for concern. No matter what her intent, he needed to bring her in.
There. The wind lifted her hair as she crossed the street against the light, traffic stopping for her. Hayes ran, narrowly avoiding a collision with an SUV. She ducked into another alley.
He hit the comm button on his watch again, slowing as he neared her location. The last thing he wanted was another blow to the face. “Hey, buddy, can I get some help here or what?”
Static crackled in
his ear. “A unit’s on the way. How many non-friendlies should they expect?”
“So far just the one.” The alley was dark. No sign of the woman.
Pain exploded across his jaw, then a hit to his chest tore the breath from him. He went down hard. A blur of movement above obscured his vision before he was finally able to focus. The woman stood over him, her high heel poised above his Adam’s apple and her hands held in a fighting stance.
“Hi,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Hand over your watch or I’m going to make you cry uncle.”
His gaze traveled up her slender leg. The voice in the comm unit said, “Uh, could you identify yourself again? I’ve got a message here saying a Lieutenant Hayseed is part of an exercise tonight. And could you give me a description of the operative you’ve engaged?”
Shit. He relaxed against the broken concrete. Might as well enjoy the view since he’d probably just blown a test. “It’s Hayes, not Hayseed. And the operative is wearing a short black dress and black undies.” He shifted for a better look. “With a little red bow at the front.”
Laughter bubbled through the earpiece.
The woman scowled and moved to cut off the enticing view. “Who are you?”
Before he could answer, someone at the mouth of the alley did it for him. “He is Lieutenant Dale Hayes of the 728th Special Operations Command Unit.” Footsteps approached. “Soon to be Captain Hayes.” A woman with deep mocha skin and ramrod posture stopped two feet away. She wore a Class A uniform. “Soon to be our commanding officer.” She extended a hand.
He took it and came painfully to his feet. “This was an exercise?”
