Bella Flores Urban Fantasy Collection

by R D Martin

  “Wonderful, isn’t it? I mean being here, not the food. I know that’s good. I made it,” Karina said, tearing into her own plate.

  “I… I’ve… Is it always like this?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. Sometimes worse, sometimes better. There’s a lot of folks who ain’t got nothing.”

  “I didn’t know there were so many homeless around here.”

  “Oh, hon. This is just the tip of the iceberg. Folks coming here are the locals. There are maybe a dozen places like this in the city and some of them serve two or three times what we do. We’re pretty lucky. We’re able to feed almost everyone who comes here. Some places can’t.”

  She had a hard time imagining the number of people Karina described. Bella had seen her share of homeless in her six months living here but never imagined the problem to be so large.

  “How’s the food?”

  “Huh? Sorry, what?”

  “The food? How is it? I invited you to come for some of my cooking, didn’t I?”

  “Oh, yeah. The food’s great.” And it was.

  “You’re mad, right? Mad you got roped into helping?”

  Bella made some noises to deny it, but if she was being honest with herself, she was a little upset.

  “I’m sorry,” Karina continued, waving away her denials. “And I don’t blame you either. For being mad, that is. We usually have more volunteers here. Housewives with nothing better to do. Church folk. That sort. It’s just things seem to go wrong so often around here, a good number of them just stopped coming. I honestly didn’t try to trick you into working, though I’m glad you did.”

  After a while, the good food and conversation sank in and she found herself glad she’d come too. When Bella returned the next week, surprising Karina, she’d experienced the same euphoria all over again. In the blink of an eye a year and a half had passed, and every weekend found her at the front of the soup line, Karina managing the kitchen, and a line of people stretching out the door and around the corner.

  4

  Bella checked her phone and, seeing it was almost a quarter of midnight, she stifled a yawn and decided it was time to start. She’d had a very long day since dropping Samantha off with her mother this morning, and it looked like she would have a long night ahead of her as well. Standing in the middle of the soup kitchen, she couldn’t stop feeling as though she was intruding in a place she was never meant to be. She had never seen the soup kitchen so empty. During the morning there were always a few people about, cooking, cleaning, or generally doing all those little jobs that brought the kitchen to life and gave it a warm, pleasant feeling. As it filled up with hungry men, women, and children, the kitchen’s warmth only grew. At night, though, with everyone home, the normally welcoming feeling was gone, replaced by a dark foreboding. It was as if all the warmth had been sucked from the building, leaving behind a cold, dank feeling that made her jump at empty shadows.

  Of course she knew those shadows weren’t necessarily empty either. And that was the reason she was here when she knew she should be home in bed.

  It seemed if anything could go wrong today, it did. First was the food spoilage. The husband of one volunteer, an electrician, was called in to look at the appliance. The short, surly man with hands the size of hams examined it and found a damaged motor control board, which he blamed on mice. It was quickly replaced, and to the relief of the kitchen, the appliance merrily hummed along with no further problems, though it would take hours to cool down to the proper temperature.

  After the refrigerator it was the dishwasher. A backup of pressure caused the main water intake to bust, flooding the area with almost an inch of water before one volunteer turned off the main valve. After the dishwasher it was the grill vent, followed by a faulty outlet that shot sparks out and tripped an electric breaker. As the day wore on and problems piled up, the kitchen experienced every problem possible, all of which culminated with the fire alarm going off and forcing an evacuation. By the time the fire department’s investigation into the alarm finished, most of the homeless had left, hoping to make it to one of the other kitchens before they ran out of food. Karina and the other volunteers cleaned up and, with a dejected spirit, closed up with the hope of a better next weekend.

  Bad luck happened all the time, but the amount of bad luck happening in the kitchen all at one time couldn’t be simple chance. There had to be something behind it, and now it was time to find out what. Spreading her hands in front of her, palms facing toward the room, she began to chant. Her words were harsh and guttural, spoken in a language that did not seem to be made for the human tongue. Pressure started building in the room, as if invisible storm clouds had amassed against the kitchen ceiling. Arcs of bright white electricity jumped from her hands, cascading around the room as though alive and hunting.

  To anyone peeking through the window, they would have seen her standing alone in a dark room, looking as though she were trying to reenact the rise of Frankenstein’s monster with a bit of a twist. For her, the light in the room was piercing, leaving blue afterimages burned into her retinas. The electricity flowed from counter to counter and jumped from spot to spot until all the dancing arcs converged on the center of the room, where they slammed into the floor as if determined to bore their way into the earth. A single flash of pure white coalesced and the electricity disappeared, leaving behind a glowing red circle filled with odd shapes and patterns.

  Approaching the circle, she lowered herself to her knees to examine the runes floating in it. Those runes in the center of the glowing ring flowed back and forth, bumping into each other and warping into something else. Only the ones touching the ring itself seemed to be stable, and these were the ones she needed to examine.

  With as much care as she could she ran her fingers along the edge of the circle, creating eddies and currents that shifted through a spectrum of colors before settling down to a waxy yellow color that contrasted with the circle’s harsh red. She nodded, the magic having confirmed her suspicions, and wiped her hand through the circle. As though it were an iridescent soap bubble, the circle flared through a spectrum of colors before fading as it sunk into the floor and disappeared. Not only had the circle confirmed supernatural creatures were responsible for all the bad luck during the day, but it also told her the culprit was a pack of Goblins.

  Rising to her feet, she looked around the room and started planning where she would put her traps. Goblins were nasty little creatures and, if she didn’t do this right, could cause all kinds of problems.

  Goblins were another of the large variety of supernatural creatures attracted to cities. Like trolls, they came in a variety of sizes with some as small as mice and the largest topping out at about three feet. Unlike trolls who mainly kept to themselves and tried to stay unnoticed as they scavenged, goblins were mean, vicious pack animals. Once a pack of them moved into an area, it became almost impossible to get rid of them, though there were some methods that worked well enough. The best idea when dealing with them was to burn the building down and rebuild from scratch. Unfortunately, burning down the soup kitchen wasn’t an option.

  Starting with the same spells she’d used when protecting her apartment, she traced runes around the frames of the doors and windows. Each rune flared briefly to life before sinking into the frames. Silently she chided herself for not doing at least this a long time ago. These protections would keep anything new from getting in through the normal methods, so it was time to deal with less normal ways.

  Returning to the center of the room, she held her hands about a foot apart and began humming. It was the sort of tune that stuck in the head like a popular song, playing on repeat until it became just another background noise. As the humming intensified, an orange dot appeared, hovering between her hands. The dot expanded until it grew to the size of a large baseball. Without touching it, Bella mimed throwing it up in the air. The orange ball flew up as though shot out from a cannon and stopped an inch from the ceiling. As it did so, it cast out a yellow ligh
t that seemed to tear away the darkness around her as though the kitchen now had its very own miniature yellow sun. She would have to repeat the process in the dining room, but this would lock out any creature traveling by shadow while remaining invisible to humans.

  With protection spells against new intrusions in place, it was time to deal with the goblins. Her protection spells would do nothing about those already in the building. She would have to flush them out, trap them before they could escape, and banish them. The problem she ran into was their numbers. Dealing with a single goblin wouldn’t have been a problem, but if she left even one behind it would tear at her spells until it created a hole in the barrier large enough for others to get back in. She needed something to force them to come out of hiding, something big enough to shock all of them into abandoning all their nests at one time and come running into the open. Her encounter with the troll last night gave her an idea, but she needed to set the snare first.

  Bending into a yoga pose, one hand on the floor while the other pointed into the air, she started a low chant. A breeze began circling the kitchen, though there were no doors or windows to let it in. As her chanting grew stronger, so too did the wind. Soon it became a howling gale as it picked up speed, threatening to blow her and the kitchen to bits. Just as it seemed on the verge of destroying everything, it stopped, exploding into millions of white and green stars that fell to the floor. As the iridescent stars came in contact with anything in the kitchen, they spread out, connecting with each other and forming a web covering every surface, appliance, nook, and cranny of the kitchen.

  She examined her net, looking for holes or other possible escapes the goblins could use. Any supernatural creature coming in contact with the web of green and white should be held fast, unable to leave the spot under its own power until the spell faded, but it was better to check and be sure than be stuck in a room full of upset goblins. Satisfied with her work, though she could feel the strain of using so much magic wearing on her, she moved to the last step of her plan.

  Grabbing a fork from one of the cutlery drawers, she walked over to the refrigerator, bending the tines of the fork while she did so. Muttering one word under her breath, she slid the appliance away from the wall, exposing the back and, more importantly, the electric socket behind it. This was where the first incident had been, so it was almost karmic that it was where she started.

  Steadying her nerves, she wrapped the fork in glowing energy and with a quick thrust, jammed it into the electric socket. The socket emitted a loud pop as metal fought with the building’s electricity, but instead of electrocuting her, the electricity, diverted by the blue energy, reversed and went back through the building’s wiring.

  As it penetrated between walls, the blue energy spread out, jumping from one spot to another and filling the empty spaces within. It was as though the building was an empty cup and her magic was filling it. With her eyes closed, she followed the blue light as it made its way through the building’s walls. As it neared the ceiling, the light came into contact with small patches of darkness that resolved into waxy yellow colors, each of which was a goblin infesting the building. The blue energy pushed against the yellow, forcing it to move up higher and higher until the yellow could no longer move as it pressed against the ceiling.

  In the quiet of darkness, a scratching noise reached her ears. The goblins, unable to move against the energy she’d sent after them, were trying to dig their way out of the ceiling. There was a shrill squeal and the first goblin dropped through, bounced off a stainless-steel countertop and thudded on the floor. Jumping to its feet, it looked around the room with a snarl on its ugly face that made its sharp teeth look even more dangerous. It was joined by others of its pack, all different shapes and sizes as they too fell from their ceiling perches. Expecting five or ten at most, she'd prepared her net to hold double that as a precaution. When the number of falling bodies reached fifteen, her stomach began twisting in a knot. At twenty, she knew she was in trouble.

  Trapped and unable to move, the goblins started using their own magic as they tried to escape the net. The ugly little creatures were incapable of doing proper spells, but their own natural magic had been honed over the centuries to make them masters of escape. Their sharp talons dug into the blue and white web holding them in place, sending up sparks as her magic and theirs fought against each other. With her inner vision, she could already see small areas where the goblins had damaged the web. But, since it covered every surface in the kitchen and the floor was concrete, the creatures had no choice but to keep fighting. Until the net was completely unraveled, there would be no easy escape for them.

  As quickly as she could, knowing the web wouldn’t hold the creatures as long as she’d hoped, she set to work. On a blank section of outer wall near her and as far away from any of the goblins as she could get, she traced a complicated series of runes that flashed a bright white and left a glowing afterimage. As she finished, a sharp pain in her calf broke her concentration. One of the closer goblins, a short one with mangy black fur, had freed itself enough to jump across the web and attached itself to her leg. Kicking as hard as she could, she tried to dislodge it, but the vile creature only dug its claws in deeper. The pain traveled up her leg and seemed to settle itself in her back, causing her muscles to tighten against it. Sensing its advantage, the creature snarled and bit her, its sharp little teeth easily parting both her jeans and her skin. It felt as though she were being stabbed with dozens of large, rusted needles all at the same time.

  As blood flowed down her leg and pooled into her shoe, she gritted her teeth. The wound would heal, but if she didn’t dislodge the goblin and finish the spell quickly, her web would evaporate and the horrible monsters would overrun her. The image of her corpse found by the morning staff, torn and gnawed as though attacked by a pack of rabid dogs, raced through her mind and sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through her. Kicking out, she slammed the goblin into the wall, causing it to screech in pain. Its cry was echoed by others of its pack, though their noise was definitely more angry than painful. Two more times she kicked out, pounding the creature against the drywall and leaving a series of spider web cracks behind, before it dropped off her leg. Taking a step back, wincing at the throbbing pain in her leg, she kicked one more time, sending the goblin sailing across the room. It flew with all the grace of a rubber chicken and, bouncing off one of its packmates, caught the edge of a garbage bin and fell in. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry, not to mention pain, she would have raised her hands and shouted, “Goal!”

  Turing back to the wall, she just caught the edge of the last rune she’d been working on, keeping it from fading out of existence. With all the concentration she had left, she poured energy into the spell. As she did so, the spot in the wall opened to reveal an inky darkness so black it made the surrounding darkness seem almost gray, as though the sun had just gone behind a cloud. And from that hole, a stench arose, unlike anything she’d ever smelled. Later she would describe it as a mixture of rotted meat, dead fruit, and rank cheese. However, while she stepped away from the hole, doing her best not to retch on the spot, the goblins had a different reaction.

  Like a string cut by a pair of scissors, all noise in the room ended as the focus of the goblins turned from escape to the hole in the wall. A few of the closer ones slowly reached out clawed hands as though afraid whatever was causing the smell would disappear.

  Taking as much care as possible, she unraveled the web in front of the goblin nearest the hole. The moment it found itself free, it raced across the intervening space and threw itself at the blackness, completely disappearing from sight. As it did, the remaining goblins began humming in a low tone that, if she hadn’t known better, she’d think was one of joy. As her web unraveled, freeing even more of the creatures, they too ran for the wall and jumped through. Taking a chance, she canceled the spell entirely and had to jump out of the way as the goblins, now free, stampeded to the hole.

  As the last one jumped thro
ugh, she slid down the wall and sighed in relief. She didn’t know where they were going or even what was on the other side. Her spell had simply asked magic to send them some place away from here. A small twinge of guilt stabbed through her as she imagined the pack of goblins appearing in some old woman’s kitchen though it disappeared as she caught a whiff of the smell coming from the hole. If that was a sample of the old woman’s cooking, well, she could keep the pests.

  Getting to her feet, a painful chore now that her adrenaline rush was gone, she limped to the hole in the wall. Holding her nose against the smell, she traced the cardinal runes ending the spell and closed the hole. She could leave it open, since none of the people working here would ever see it, and if any goblins made it through her wards they’d be attracted to it. But the smell could not be as easily masked and people would wonder why this area of the kitchen always stank. As it was, the morning crew would come in and have to deal with it.

  Finished erasing any sign she’d been here, Bella hobbled toward the building’s exit and dreamed of a hot shower, a warm bed, and more than a few painkillers. Cat would have more than a few words to say to her about putting herself in danger. In her imagination, she could see the black cat sitting on the counter, its tail lashing back and forth as it scolded her, and she smiled. As insulting and acerbic as Cat was, it couldn’t hide how much it really cared. Regardless, whatever the feline had to say, it could wait until morning.