Death Match (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 2)

by A. Blythe

  We sat in the section reserved for participants. Now that I was officially registered, I figured I should put my Shadow Elite skills to good use and study the potential competition. Our team wasn't on deck for its first match until later in the afternoon. That meant an entire morning of checking out the other matches.

  The first match of the day was between Shaitans and the Nephilim. They weren't Protectors so Reed didn't know any of them.

  "You don't keep tabs on the Nephilim the way the Enclave keeps tabs on their magicians?" Farah asked, when he said he didn't recognize anyone.

  He shook his head. "We can usually spot one of our own without an official manifest."

  "I can usually spot your folks, too," I said. "Ramrod straight backs, earnest expressions." I rolled my eyes. "Usually it's the bout of nausea I suffer that tips me off."

  Reed fought the urge to smile.

  "Why would the Nephilim choose to participate in this?" I asked. "It seems too unnecessarily violent for you."

  "Well, you won't see any Protectors competing, that's for sure."

  "Apart from you," I reminded him.

  His eyes darkened. "Apart from me. The rest of the Nephilim are free to choose their own paths."

  Shaitans were an interesting caste to watch in a match. If they had a mascot, it would be Loki. They're the tricksters of the djinn world and with good reason. They can shape reality, create illusions, shift perception—you name it. It didn't matter that they were standing in a field in front of thousands of spectators. If they wanted to, they could alter the fabric of reality for everyone here. Thankfully for us, their particular talents were focused solely on their opponents—the Nephilim red team.

  "Both teams are hot," Farah said, her breath blowing on my neck.

  Not that I was assessing the teams based on their appearance, but she was right. Between the angelic beauty of the Nephilim and the ridiculously attractive Shaitans with their well-placed animal parts, we could have been spectators at a Chippendales event in bizarro world.

  I expected the djinn on the field to shift immediately, maybe even drift onto the field already in their djinn forms, but the Horn of Karkadann blew and they remained in their human bodies.

  Then it hit me.

  This was a deliberate ploy. Shaitans were fully aware of the Nephilim's duty toward humans. It was psychological. Even though the Nephilim knew that their opponents were djinn, fighting them in human form would prove more difficult. The master deceivers would save their party tricks for the next match, assuming they were successful now.

  "How would you fight them?" I asked Reed, who sat on my right.

  "I'd picture them all naked," Farah said enthusiastically.

  Mix pressed his lips together. "You're doing it now, aren't you?"

  Farah's lips formed a dreamy smile.

  Reed leaned forward, studying the positions of those on the field. "The longer they stay human, the more willpower the Nephilim will need to attack. I would close my eyes and rely on my senses to guide me."

  That wasn't the answer I was expecting. "Your senses are that good? Even with the noise of the crowd?"

  Who was I kidding? I was talking to a Naphil who absorbed emotional imprints of a crime scene and filtered out the pain and agony of the deceased. The noise of a crowd was child's play.

  "Mine are," he replied. "But I doubt very much the training of these Nephilim is that extensive. They're not Protectors."

  I tried to focus on the match, to pay close attention to the strengths and weaknesses of the team members, in the event that we faced off against either team at a later point.

  Two Shaitans had finally abandoned their human forms and shifted to smoke as the Nephilim moved around the field with speed and precision. They'd clearly practiced their offensive and defensive moves together. They looked more like a sports team than participants in a deadly match.

  "They have a telepath," I said. It was the one in the point of their vee formation. His face was scrunched up in deep concentration.

  Reed nodded. "He needs to be less obvious. If any Shaitan figures it out, he'll become the primary target."

  "If we can see it all the way from the cheap seats, I'm sure they'll figure it out soon."

  Sure enough, a cloud of smoke drifted over the field and wrapped around the telepath. At the same time, the other Nephilim dropped to their knees, their hands over their ears.

  "What's happening?" Mix asked.

  "Shaitans are literally blowing their minds," I said. It had nearly happened to me once. I was on a mission in Sri Lanka where I encountered a nasty piece of work called Lagos. He twisted the hell out of my head until I lost all sense of reality. I thought a python was slithering up my throat and out of my mouth and that I was about to give birth to a full-sized gorilla. The only way I survived the psychic attack was by mustering the strength to shift to mist, an option the Nephilim didn't have. Once I was in mist form, the illusion was broken. I bent the light and escaped with a blistering headache but no permanent damage.

  Watching the Nephilim on their knees, screaming in agony, I doubted they'd be so fortunate.

  Thankfully, the first match ended with no loss of life. The Nephilim had the good sense to surrender before their heads exploded.

  "I'm glad they're out," Reed said.

  I understood. He didn't want to face off against his brethren. Like me, he was here to protect Pinky, not to win. There was no way I'd find myself competing with another Marid, not that it would have given me pause. I didn't owe them my loyalty simply because we shared the same caste. As far as I was concerned, loyalty was earned. It was a departure from traditional Marida thinking and Prince Simdan had never forgiven me for voicing it to the entire royal court. For a brief moment, I wondered if he knew where I was right now. The thought made me smile.

  "Are you sure we should be prowling around here?" Farah asked.

  I'd convinced her to take a tour of the bowels of the stadium, to sniff around and see if we noticed any suspicious activity. Any X-caliber changing hands or illicit practice sessions. Although the dark, empty corridors were eerie, they were nothing I hadn't seen before.

  "If there's shady drug dealing happening, I want to find out who, when and where." Just because Simon only gave the drug to Kieran didn't mean the Dragon limited his distribution to one team. Maybe he was attempting to manipulate the outcome of several matches.

  "When you're done playing Lois Lane, can we stop at the bar for a drink? I saw that mage in the lobby with the spiky, silver hair." She shivered. "I'd like to get a piece of that action before he ends up in pieces."

  "I'm sure he'd appreciate a nice send-off."

  I was just about to round a corner when Farah gripped the hem of my shirt and yanked me backward.

  "Isn't that our psychopathic friend from The Night Owl?" she asked in a hushed tone.

  I peered around the corner to see a familiar albino Chinese mage swagger into a room.

  "Maybe she's meeting her team here." I hoped she wouldn't be our first match. I needed to build up to a battle that involved a flame-blowing narcissist.

  "Come on then. Let's check out your competition," Farah whispered.

  We crept along the corridor, trying to appear casual in case anyone else decided to brave this part of the building.

  "We don't know anyone with X-ray vision, do we?" Farah asked.

  "No, we'll need to be nosy the old-fashioned way."

  Farah tapped her chin. "Is there anything useful I could summon?"

  "I think a blow torch might draw too much attention." I nudged her with my elbow. "Just shift to mist."

  "They're not clueless humans in there. They'll know."

  "When did you get so cautious?" I asked. The Farah I grew up with was always right by my side, ready to take on the world...or the bar.

  "I don't feel as invincible as I used to," she admitted.

  "Is that what aging does to you?" I teased.

  "No, that's what you do to me."
<
br />   "Me?" I blinked. "What are you talking about?"

  She gestured to my copper cuffs. "Your jewelry. Every time I look at you, I remember how quickly my life could be over."

  "Way to look on the bright side."

  "Alyse, you're stronger and smarter than I ever was. If this is what happens to a djinni like you, what hope is there for me?"

  I clenched my jaw. I didn't want to have an existential debate right now.

  "Shift to mist and check out the situation," I said. "Just linger by the door and slip right back through when you're done."

  Farah grimaced before closing her eyes and concentrating on dissolving her human form. She didn't shift often and, when she did, it tended to be her favored fox form. For a djinni like Farah, shifting to mist took intense concentration, whereas I'd been able to shift as quickly and easily as I drew breath.

  Even with her inexperience, she was gone less than a minute.

  I waited until she'd completely reformed to pester her. "What did you see?"

  Farah stifled a giggle.

  "What's so funny?" I asked.

  "Twinsies." She covered her mouth.

  "Can you veil us both?" I asked. There was enough of a gap that we could squeeze through the doorway without drawing attention to ourselves.

  Farah nodded. She threw a hand high and flicked her fingers in a dramatic gesture. I never conjured veils like that, but now wasn't the time to argue with her technique.

  I peeked into the room and immediately understood the source of her laughter. Dragon Mage wore a black tank top, Army green camouflage pants, and combat boots.

  I glanced down at my own attire. "My pants are solid green. There's no print."

  Farah bit back another fit of giggles. "See? You girls have something in common after all."

  It was a good thing our voices were as veiled as our bodies or Farah would've had those Ghuls jumping on us in five seconds.

  Holy Plasma Plane. Ghuls.

  Farah's giddiness quickly dissipated when she, too, noticed the other inhabitants in the room. We both sprang back and bolted around the corner.

  "Why is she hanging out with Ghuls?" Farah asked, the disgust evident on her face.

  "There's no requirement she be on a team of mages," I said. "Look at Captain Courageous and me."

  "But I expected her to be," Farah said. "Didn't you?"

  I kinda did.

  "Maybe the mages didn't want her," I said. "The Enclave has strict rules about using magic the way she used it in The Night Owl."

  "Then why isn't she standing trial somewhere?" Farah asked. "Shouldn't she be facing a death penalty instead of sauntering around town dressed like you?"

  Farah had a point, not about the clothes, but the freedom. Then again, I didn't think she was local. A mage with her skills and attitude would have a hard time flying under the radar in this city. I'd need to ask Oscar about it now that I had his ear.

  We heard a loud, primal scream that seemed to come from the room we'd just left. Farah and I exchanged glances.

  What if she wasn't there to train with Ghuls? What if she wandered in there, expecting to find mages?

  "We need to see if she's okay," I said.

  Farah recoiled. "Are you insane? We know firsthand Dragon Mage can handle herself. If there's trouble, she doesn't need a lazy Hinn and a powerless Marid to come to her rescue."

  "She screamed," I said.

  "We don't know it was her," Farah said, unconvincingly.

  "Farah, you've still got your djinn powers. At least cover me."

  Before she could object, I stomped around the corner and kicked open the door.

  Dragon Mage had one Ghul in a chokehold while another six Ghuls stood around them in a semi-circle.

  "Is everything okay in here?" I asked. "I heard a scream."

  Dragon Mage released her hold on the Ghul and pushed him away. "Nothing I could not handle." She gave me a curious look. "I recognize you."

  I swallowed hard. Was she affiliated with one of my former targets? Had I somehow forgotten her? I quickly brushed aside the thought. There was no way anyone could forget this woman.

  "I'm competing in the games," I said. Maybe that would be enough.

  "From the bar," she said and spread apart her blood red lips. "Where I demonstrated my prowess."

  She meant The Night Owl.

  "Yes, we were very impressed by your performance," I said, with a sidelong glance at Farah. Her gaze was pinned on the Ghuls. They remained still, observing the conversation. Since when did Ghuls exercise restraint?

  "I hope to give an even better one here," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  "Can we walk you somewhere?" I asked. Like an insane asylum?

  "I appreciate your concern," she said. "It is most unexpected."

  "We women need to stick together," Farah said. "It's a cruel world out there."

  "One of the things I love most about it," Dragon Mage said.

  "Alrighty then," Farah said. "As you were."

  Farah backed out of the room first and I followed. It would have been foolish to turn our backs to them.

  We didn't speak until we reached the far end of the corridor.

  "Told you she didn't need our help," Farah said.

  I wasn't thinking about Dragon Mage. My mind was stuck on the Ghuls. "Were they the oddest Ghuls you've ever seen?"

  "They're all pretty odd, Alyse."

  "No, I mean their behavior. They were so still and quiet. Why didn't they attack us?"

  "They attacked her. Good thing she put them in their place before we busted in there."

  "She's going to be tough competition." Which was the whole reason I offered to help Pinky train for the games. Dragon Mage scared me and that was no easy feat.

  We took the stairs back to the main level.

  "When will you find out which team you're fighting?" Farah asked.

  "In the morning," I said. "They'll post the day's matches."

  "Text me when you know," she said. "Mix and I will be here." She hesitated, her expression clouding over. "Do you want me to bring Flynn?"

  "He'll be here whether you bring him or not," I said. Flynn was as predictable as sunrise. He wouldn't be able to stay away from a spectacle like this, certainly not when he had money riding on the outcome.

  "Good luck, Alyse."

  I'd never needed luck before. It was an unwelcome realization.

  "Thanks," I said and went to find my team.

  18

  Our first match was, appropriately, against a team comprised of mages and djinn. Two mages, a Jann, and an Ifrit.

  "At least we're evenly matched," I said to Reed, who stood to my right.

  "Alyse, you do remember you're practically human, don't you?" he replied.

  "This is the part where you tell me to get my head in the game," I said.

  To be completely honest, for a moment I'd forgotten my powers were null and void. A dangerous mistake to make in the field. At least I had my lightsabers.

  "Do you know either of these mages?" I asked Pinky and Cyrus.

  "Out-of-towners," Cyrus said, flexing his biceps.

  So we didn't know what they could do. At least the djinn would be easier to assess. I'd had enough encounters with their castes to gauge their abilities.

  Reed, you take the Jann, I told him.

  Why me?

  He's the closest you'll get to pummeling Flynn.

  But I already pummeled Flynn.

  I snapped my fingers. He had. The day they met in the warehouse. Flynn and I were training and Reed thought he was rescuing me from an attack by an enormous bear.

  Great, so you have experience. You take the Jann. He'll favor a large mammal. They always did.

  "Cyrus, you and Pinky take the mages," I said quietly so only they could hear me. "I'll take the Ifrit."

  I couldn't imagine the four of them working in sync. I was baffled as to how they ended up on the same team. Then again, they were probably wondering t
he same thing about us. That was the downside of our first match. No intel.

  The Horn of Karkadann sounded and we walked to the center of the field, near second base.

  "Alyse Winters," the Jann said, heading straight for me. My plan was already shot to shit and we'd only just begun.

  I looked him over. He was tall and reedy, like a teenaged basketball player. I half expected his face to bear acne scars.

  "Do I know you?"

  "Not really. I saw you fight in Miami several years back. You were with one of ours. I think he was your boyfriend."

  Holy gods. Flynn.

  "Then you know how good I am," I said. "Maybe you should just forfeit now."

  He chuckled. “I’d rather take you down, but thanks.”

  I extended the yantoks in my hands. "Luke and Leia might have something to say about that."

  "Who are Luke and Leia?" he asked.

  "You're looking at them," I said, waving the yantoks.

  "Yes, I figured you meant the batons, I'm not an idiot, but where on earth did you get the names for them?"

  My eyes widened slightly. "For that statement alone, you deserve to die."

  The Jann summoned his own secret weapons. Two black chains appeared in his hands and he began to twirl them from hip to hip like a lasso.

  "Don't you think black is a little too badass for you?" I asked. "Maybe you should have gone for the baby blue ones."

  "Black works best," he said.

  "For what?"

  "Painting over the copper."

  His magical chains were forged from copper. So not a badass but an asshole.

  Clearly he wasn't up to date on my current condition. The copper wouldn't hurt me, but those chains sure as hell would.

  I raised my yantoks in a defensive position. The Jann had the advantage now and he knew it. His caste was vulnerable to cold iron, so he had no problem whipping his copper chains into action. They crossed the gap between us in a nanosecond and smacked the yantoks out of my hands. I watched in stunned silence as they spun across the field in two different directions.

  Was I seriously going to die during the first match? And at the hands of Puberty Jann? I heaved a deep sigh. There was no justice in the world, but I already knew that.