A Dream of Ashes: An Ava James Mystery (Chronicles of the Modern Mystics Book 1)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “It wasn’t mine,” I said. “When are they saying he died?””

  “Two days ago, according to the PTF, over the weekend,” he said. “PTF wants blood, yours specifically, especially after the commander was hospitalized.””

  “And the Enclave is going to give it to them,” I said. “Did they place the kill order?”

  “Not yet,” he replied. “Which is kind of surprising considering the events. I wouldn’t give it more than another day or two.”

  “That is worse,” I said. “They unleashed Julius. “This will bring the rest of the Enforcers.”

  “Not big on negotiation, that bunch,” he said. “Do you need a passport? I hear Belize is wonderful this time of year.”

  “I’m not running,” I said. “I need to stop this.””

  “I had a feeling you would say that,” he replied. “In that case, the list of Warders powerful enough to tamper with Ghost’’s wards is short. I sent you the name and last known address.”

  “Name?” I asked. “It’s just one person?””

  “Only one who is good or suicidal enough to try,” Rafe said. “His daughter—she goes by Circe.”

  SEVEN

  THE SUN WAS setting when I left the coffee shop. Circe would have to wait. I needed to get home. I had called the house several times with no response. This wasn’t unusual. My Uncle Seb enjoyed his privacy and would occasionally go on mountain retreats whenever the mood struck him. I opened my secure email and checked to see if he had left a message saying he was traveling.

  I didn’t see a message from him, which meant he was still in the city. I grabbed a cab and told the driver to head to Queens. My uncle and I lived in what I liked to call “the little fort.” It was on the corner of 32nd Avenue and 81st Street. The wards on the property were strong enough to prevent most unwanted intruders. I didn’t know if they were strong enough to stop Circe. The property was one of the many family homes owned in the States through the Japanese Enclave.

  It was evening by the time I had the cab drop me off several blocks away from my place. The Enclave wouldn’t take chances. They would have at least two Enforcers watching the house, if not more. I had one more call to make.

  The MID, though part of the Enclave, operated as a separate entity with a limited jurisdictional autonomy. We investigated mystics, which made us unpopular. It was entirely possible what was happening was part of some mystic blowback. I punched in the number and waited.

  “What?” said the gruff voice. An involuntary smile crossed my lips.

  “Ross, hey,” I said. “How are you?”

  “How am I?” he asked. “How am I? Not wanted for murder, that’s how I am. Where the hell are you?”

  “Seb’s. Can you talk?” I asked, hesitant to say more.

  “Give me a sec.”

  I heard the footsteps as he walked outside and into a crowded area full of noise. I trusted him with my life because as my partner he had saved it more than once. If he was compromised, I was signing my death sentence. I didn’t have many options. I had to take the risk.

  “I saw the news,” I said. “It wasn’t me, Ross.””

  “They found your stick at the scene,” he answered. “They aren’t even going to look for an auric signature.”

  “Someone is trying to get me out of the way,” I said. “I just don’t know why.”

  “Why you?” he asked. “What makes you so special?”

  “If I knew that then I could at least know where it’s coming from,” I said. “It has to be another Fire Mystic.”

  “Not good enough,” he shot back. “I can’t help you. You have Enforcers and PTF gunning for you.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help,” I said. “I thought——”

  “Find somewhere and get yourself sorted out,” he said. “You want my advice? Turn yourself in before this gets worse and I find your body on the eleven o’clock news.”

  He hung up, but not before letting me know he would help. By telling me to ‘find somewhere and get sorted’, he meant the main post office on 34th and 8th. The reference to the news gave me the time. I looked at my watch. I had less than five hours. If he was using our old code, the Enclave had him under surveillance and he couldn’t speak freely. I kept my distance from the house and noticed the PTF truck around the corner from the property. A Shadow sat parked across the street. I pulled my collar up and kept walking, making sure not to look at either of the vehicles. Around the corner, I backed into one of the driveways and called the house again.

  “Hello?” It was my Uncle Seb.

  “Ojisan,” I said. “I need to see you.”

  “Musha,” he answered and I knew something was wrong. He never used my warrior nickname unless he was angry or there was danger. “This is not a good time.””

  I heard a commotion and a different voice came on the phone.

  “Everything that’s precious to you, everything you love, I will reduce to ashes,” he said.

  “I swear if you hurt him—” I started.

  “You’d better come save him, Musha, before there isn’t anything left to save.”

  The line went dead.

  I ran around the corner to the house. The doors of the PTF van slid open as I crossed the street, followed by the Enforcers in the Shadow getting out. None of that mattered if my uncle was in danger. I tried to get a look into one of the windows but the house was dark. The property had nine windows on each floor. Vertical blinds blocking any prying eyes covered all of them.

  Bullets erupted as I ducked behind a car. I managed to get in front of the main entrance of the house and saw the door ajar. Something was off. The wards around the house would never allow the door to remain open.

  Circe again? I have to go in; no choice.

  I jumped through the entrance as a hail of gunfire crashed into the frame behind me. Being shot was not an option. I had to assume they were using void bullets. My trench was only warded against magic. Bullets would cut through me just like anyone else. Mystics were hard to kill, but it wasn’t impossible.

  I crouched and avoided the windows as I made my way down the hallway and into the foyer. The PTF would breach once they got the go ahead. The Enforcers would wait for Julius. I didn’t have much time. I figured twenty minutes on the outside before they stormed the house. I needed to find my uncle and get out. I saw the trail of blood immediately and my stomach clenched. It led upstairs, where I could hear soft music floating out of one of the bedrooms.

  Staying low, I climbed the stairs to the second floor. I followed the blood down the hallway and into my uncle’s bedroom. I opened the door as the mournful voice of Concha Buika explained about love and wounds. She was my uncle’s favorite and her voice brought in a rush of memories.

  Drawn in blood on the wall behind my uncle’s desk was a triquetra. Sitting on top of the desk wearing a signet ring I recognized was a finger. It was crooked on top of a piece of paper as if beckoning me to come closer. Under the finger, I saw writing.

  That bastard. Whoever did this is going to feel his blood boil before I erase him.

  I turned off the music and snatched up the finger. I felt a ripple in the wards. It felt like a thrum on a bass that grabbed and pulled at my abdomen.

  That felt wrong. Time to go.

  I looked down and recognized my uncle’s handwriting:

  Musha, my little warrior, this is quite possibly the last time we will speak. I am immensely proud of you. You are truly your mother’s daughter and are worthy of your family name. I know both your parents would be proud if they could see you now. Do not try to locate me. Some debts can only be repaid in blood. This is my giri, my burden. Remember energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.

  Your Ojisan,

  Sebastian

  He was insane if he thought I wasn’t going to find him. It was my giri to make sure he was safe from whatever twisted psycho had him. You never abandon family …ever. I headed downstairs to
the kitchen to put the finger on ice, when I heard the footsteps. Someone was making their way across the foyer and into the living room. I froze on the stairs and unholstered my guns.

  I tracked the sound and fired through the wall. I carried two modified Glock 40s with modified twenty-round magazines. The plastic polymer Glocks made dealing with Earth Mystics manageable. The void bullets were ten-millimeter parabellums and punched through the wall as if it were made of paper. I heard the Enforcer scramble in the other direction and take cover.

  I knew it was an Enforcer because protocol and procedure were everything to the PTF. It meant they would wait, but the Enclave was eager to get me first. They were more prone to break protocol and attempt a capture. If an Enforcer was inside, the kill order had been issued.

  I jumped over the remaining stairs and ran for the kitchen as bullets peppered the wall behind me.

  “Give it up,” said the Enforcer. “There’s no way you leave here……alive.”

  Part of my heightened sense of hearing made it impossible for me to forget a voice once I heard it. I recognized this one.

  “Hello, Darius,” I yelled from the kitchen. “I see they issued the kill order. North or South?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “End result is the same.””

  That means North. Moira would try to delay the process—until they catch me.

  “North, then,” I said. “They move fast.”

  “About two minutes ago,” he said. “You want to surrender now before Julius gets here?”

  “Not an option,” I said. “I have things to do and someone to kill.”

  “How the hell did you know my name?”

  “I make it a point to remember threats, Darius.”

  “I should have finished you at the station,” he said. “You got lucky that time.”

  I looked down at my aura and realized the effect of the crystal was gone. They would be able to track me with the calibrators. I would have to time how long the effect lasted when I had a moment, preferably when angry men with guns weren’t trying to kill me.

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” I said. “They train you to disregard citizens these days?”

  “Collateral damage in the apprehension of a dangerous fugitive,” he said. “It happens.”

  I could almost hear the shrug.

  “I hear Enforcers are just frustrated boys with toys,” I said. “You should join the MID—we use real weapons.”

  “Fuck you,” he said as he filled the wall with more holes. “Where is your MID now? They abandoned you when you needed them most. Typical.””

  I emptied a magazine in the direction of his voice. The words hurt. I wanted to get him upset and he had turned it on me. I took a deep breath and kept my power in check. I needed him emotional and off-balance, not to lose it myself.

  I put my uncle’s finger in the freezer, pocketed the ring, and peeked out the corner of the kitchen window. More Para vans had arrived and several Shadows were pulling up the street. I was certain Julius was in one of those. Even with the ammo I had collected from the cache, there was no way I could face off against them. I reloaded my gun and weighed my options……but they all looked bad.

  “You should leave now while you still can,” I sing-songed. “The real Enforcers have arrived.”

  More bullets pounded the wall.

  “The property is closed off,” he said. “Unless you can fly, you’re coming out of here in a bag.”

  I heard him reload.

  The nagging feeling about the wards suddenly dawned on me. It was the same sensation I felt around the Rhino before the explosion. This meant they were still in effect, but masked.

  My uncle had Ghost do the wards in our house. They were designed to stop a breach. If a mystic made it into the house and used an ability, it would trigger the response. Since it was Ghost who warded the house, the response would be explosive in the extreme.

  What is it with Ghost and the explosions?

  Right now, those wards were in effect. I saw the trap, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed to charge the crystal and I needed an exit.

  It made for a devious strategy. Mask the wards, get a mystic inside to use an ability, and then the property along with the mystic would be obliterated.

  That was my way out.

  This is going to hurt.

  I heard the Shadows stop across the street. I stole a glance through the blinds and saw four Enforcers exit their vehicles. They were partially obscured by the Para vans and I didn’t need my head to be target practice so I kept hidden. If Julius was there, I would hear it soon enough.

  “Exit the property and surrender immediately,” Julius said over a megaphone. “I will not repeat this order. You have thirty seconds.””

  “Time’s up,” Darius said. “In thirty seconds, we end your world.””

  I don’t intend on being here in thirty seconds.

  I stood with my back to the kitchen window, pulled my trench coat close to my body, and let my power flow into the crystal. The effect was immediate. The wards thrummed again and I felt the cascade of energy. Darius must have sensed it as well. I heard his footfalls as he ran out of the living room and headed for the door, cursing.

  A few seconds later the power drowned out everything and a wave of energy slammed into me. It lifted me off my feet, hurled me out of the window, and launched me across the street. I had a brief moment while airborne to reflect on how being blown up twice in one day redefined my experience of a bad day. I landed on my back in a driveway and then slid several feet.

  I tried to stand up and fell on my hands and knees. The high-pitched whine in my head tried to split my skull in half. My face was soaked in liquid and when I wiped it away my hand came away bloody. I crawled to a nearby fence and looked down the street. My uncle’s home, my home, was a pile of rubble. The wards had sent me several houses down from the explosion.

  I felt a pair of rough hands grab me, lift me to my feet, and throw me down again.

  “Over here! I found her, sir!” It was an Enforcer.

  My world tilted on an extreme axis as a pair of boots came into view. I felt the void inhibitors, thin strips of warded metal, squeeze around my wrists and my power left me.

  “Get her in the EDV,” Julius said. “I don’t want the PTF to attempt to cite jurisdiction on this one.”

  “What about Franco?” asked one of the Enforcers.

  “The PTF can have whatever is left of her after the Enclave is done,” Julius replied. “Pick her up.”

  A hand squeezed my face and a blurry image crossed my vision. I blinked a few times but my eyes didn’t feel like cooperating.

  “You’re going to regret breaking mystic law, traitor,” he said as they dragged me away.

  EIGHT

  IF THE PARA vans were beached whales, the Enforcer detainment vehicles were sharks. The EDVs were a streamlined version of an armored truck and resembled a tank in durability. I sat chained to a railing surrounded by three low-level Enforcers. My head throbbed, but my hearing had returned to normal. The windowless back of the truck deprived me of a view so I focused my hearing. From the echo of the engine, it sounded like we were in a tunnel. There was only one tunnel that would lead us to the South Enclave. It meant we were inside the Midtown Tunnel, since it was the most direct route.

  Across from me, sealed in a transparent compartment, I could see my weapons and gear. I tried flexing the chain attached to the void inhibitors and realized it was futile. One of the Enforcers laughed at my attempt. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and blocked them out. I could feel the crystal pulsing. Like a second heart, it throbbed against my chest. My thoughts kept racing back to my uncle.

  My family is in trouble.

  I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Any time I was stressed, the Rhyme of Nine would creep into my head like some bad song you hear once and can’t erase.

  By the Nine, I am hidden.

  By the Nine, I can see.

 
By the Nine, I have power.

  By the Nine, I am free.

  By the Nine, I am healed.

  By the Nine, death touched me.

  I repeated it to myself a few times and felt my breathing calm down. In that moment a realization dawned on me. Before the wards had ejected me forcibly, I had charged the crystal. It was still pulsing with energy, my energy. It was right there in the rhyme. By the Nine, I have power—the Black Heart could store energy. My uncle’s last words rushed back: Remember energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.

  The crystal held a portion of my fire ability. There was only one problem. I didn’t know how to access the energy in the crystal. I opened my eyes and subtly looked down at the piece of obsidian hanging from my neck. I saw nothing to indicate a way to unlock my power. It just sat there, pulsing.

  “Looks like the MID is going to lose one today,” the Enforcer across from me said.

  These three were grunts—low-level Enforcers used for guard duty. If I could access my weapon kit, I could cut this trip short.

  “Heard she was a real badass, right up until Julius caught up with her,” the one on my right said.

  “Did you see her kit?” the one on my left asked. “I didn’t know MID carried guns like that.”

  “Shut up,” the one across from me said. He gave a quick look at the transparent compartment where my weapons were stowed.

  “I don’t know how a little thing like her could handle the kick on those things,” he said. “Maybe she was waiting for a real man to show her how to use them.”

  He laughed and the other two joined in.

  “When I see one, I’ll ask him,” I said.

  The two on my sides laughed harder, but the Enforcer across from me wasn’t laughing. I saw the anger flash in his eyes. Anger is a secondary emotion. It does things to people. Twists them up inside and clouds thinking. We resort to anger to protect ourselves or cover other vulnerabilities. We almost always feel something else first before we get angry. This one felt shame. I could work with that.