Bella Flores Urban Fantasy Collection

by R D Martin

  The message cut dead, but she couldn’t care. He was coming home. A squeal of excitement forced its way out, though she held herself back from hopping in place. It was about time she got some good news, and she couldn’t wait to share it with Karina.

  Turing, she strode toward the alley’s entrance, standing aside to let a drunk group of guys pass.

  Just as she stepped out of the alley and into the open streetlight, she felt a tug just below her navel and the air rushed from her lungs as she flew back, crashing onto the asphalt and sliding back as though it was rough glass.

  Coming to a halt, she stared up for a second as her mind reeled, before scrambling to her feet. Her eyes darted around, looking for her attacker, but the alley was empty save for herself and the group of drunken guys she’d let past. What happened? Something grabbed her, but what?

  “See, I told you it was her.” The deep Cajun accent sent a shiver racing up her spine as she recognized the voice. It belonged to Charlie, one of the men who had attacked her and set her on the path here. A ball of ice formed in her stomach.

  “You sure? I mean, we didn’t get a good look at her and left her pretty messed up. She probably died. Even if she didn’t, why would she be here? Let’s just go, okay?”

  “No. I’m sure. She’s the one what killed Jesse. I don’t care why she came, but she ain’t leavin’, least not alive.”

  She watched his wrist twitch and a four-inch blade appeared in his hand, gleaming in the dull alley light. Lifting it, he waved the blade in front of his face as though it was a miniature sword. The look on his face screamed murder.

  They had caught her unaware last time, but this time she was ready. Taking a deep breath, she let power suffuse every inch of her body before holding out her hands and yelling a single word. A stream of blue-white fire flew across the intervening space, illuminating the alley with a ghostly light.

  The magic fire washed over the group of men, only one of whom even flinched.

  “Told you, Witch. Your magic don’t work on us, long as we got protection.”

  He was right, too. All three men remained standing, not even singed by her flame. She should have remembered, she thought as she shook her head. Well, this time she wasn’t so unprepared. If her magic didn’t affect them directly, it should do so indirectly.

  Summoning the power again, she weaved her hands together, mumbling beneath her breath. A fog spilled from her hands, collecting at her feet before spreading out to fill the alley floor and flow between the feet of her opponents. A small tinkling sound, almost like brittle glass being stepped on, accompanied the thick fog.

  “Don’t know what you’re doin’, Witch, but it ain’t gonna help.” Charlie stepped forward, his foot parting the fog for the barest of moments before coming down again.

  Like she was watching a black and white comedy, the man’s foot touched the ground and slid out from beneath him, tumbling him back into his friends and causing them to fall. Each time her attackers tried to stand, they fell again, slipping on the sheet of ice covering the ground.

  Though she knew what these men intended, she couldn’t stop barking out a laugh as all three men fell like dominoes, one after the other.

  Seeing her opportunity to escape, she turned and made for the street. Heart racing, her exit looming closer with each step, she didn’t see the slight shimmer in the air before it was too late. As though running into a wall of invisible rubber, she slowed and stopped before rebounding back a few feet.

  An icy hand gripped her heart as she pounded on the invisible wall. One of them was a magic user and they’d trapped her.

  Turing her back to the transparent wall, she watched her attackers haul themselves to their feet, their faces set in determination colder than the dispelling fog and ice at their feet.

  Her mind raced as she tried to figure out how she would get through this alive. At least one of them wanted her head, preferably not attached to her body. The other two, well, she’d just have to deal with them as best she could. First things first, though. While they were still unsteady, she had to figure out which of them was the magic user and put him out of the fight if she could.

  Slapping her hands together, she rubbed them back and forth as though trying to warm them in front of an open fire. As she did, a fluorescent light burst to life between her hands, shifting colors from warm orange to angry red. Ignoring everything else, she stared into the pulsing colors, forcing the world around her to conform to her will. When she heard a shout, her head shot up and for the second time, a smile crept across her face.

  The fog and ice in front her disappeared, vanished as if boiled away under a hot sun. Seeing their chance to advance, her attackers had rushed forward, only to have their momentum stopped as their feet sank through the asphalt and into the ground beneath. They built parts of New Orleans on a swamp, so it wasn’t hard to convince the ground it was still just an open mire. It wouldn’t last long, but hopefully just long enough to flush out the magic user.

  Her heart, already running like a rabbit at a dog race, beat a little faster when light flashed from the hand of the third man in the group. Standing behind his friends, he hadn’t been as ensnared in her spell as the rest. Under the washed out yellow lights of the alley, he was so skinny she couldn't believe he had enough muscle to hold up his bones, but it wasn’t physical strength that made a Witch powerful.

  Shouting a string of syllables that could only be heard and forgotten, she interlaced her fingers to lock them into fists and thrust her hands at the skinny man. A wave of power flowed from her, filling the alley from side to side and leaving wisps of yellow and green smoke in its wake.

  The wall of power passed over Charlie and his other companion without slowing, doing nothing more than ruffling their hair, but they weren’t the target either. The wall approached the third man, and while the bottom half slowed to a stop, the top half continued its advance, falling over the figure like a crashing wave without touching a single inch of him.

  The smirk on the man’s face grew wider as the spell refused to touch him, even moving away as he reached out his hand to touch it.

  From where she stood, she couldn’t hear what he said through the cursing and yells of his companions as they pulled themselves free from the ground, but she had an excellent view of his face when the bubble of magic surrounding him shimmered and the spell he’d cast backfired on him. Confusion etched his features when he tried again with the same result, and she could understand why. It wasn’t everyday witches found themselves trapped in an inverted ward.

  It was, in fact, the same one she had in place around her apartment back home, just a little changed. She’d twisted it around, so instead of keeping things out and keeping her safe, the spell kept him trapped inside. It was not the strongest spell, but it was one she used often enough to do it without thinking. He’d break through without too much effort, but it wasn’t a prison. She just needed a bit of time.

  Turning her attention back to Charlie and his friend, she was just in time to dodge a swipe of his knife at her throat. She’d been paying so much attention to the magic user, she’d lost track of the mundane attack. Jumping back, she lashed out with her foot, hoping to kick him somewhere it hurt, but missed him. The move took her out of his attack range but left her back on the defensive. How was she going to deal with someone she couldn’t attack with magic?

  Bella stepped back to avoid another swing of the knife and her foot stepped on and then through the top of a discarded pallet, making her stumble and fall. Splinters of wood scored her ankle and tore the cuff of her jeans as she pulled to free her foot. Her heart skipped as Charlie loomed over her, his face contorted with rage and murderous intent.

  One last yank and her foot jerked free from the wood, though it left her shoe behind. Kicking out, she felt it slam into him just below his ribs and heard a rush of air escape from his lungs. She flushed with grim satisfaction as he stumbled back. He’d given her a pounding and now it was her turn.

&n
bsp; Scrambling to her feet, she reached down and wrenched one of the broken slats free from the pallet. Swinging it overhead, she brought it down on her attacker, glancing off the side of his head but landing on his shoulder with a satisfying thud. His knife fell from his fingers as he raised his arm to protect himself from her rain of blows.

  The hand grabbing her shoulder and yanking her around reminded her too late that there was still another person she was fighting. Her momentum from the pull gave her some speed with the plank of wood, but not enough. His fist loomed large in her vision and it was only her flinch that kept it from ramming full force into the center of her face. Instead of impacting her nose or eye, it landed against her forehead.

  A cannon exploded somewhere behind her eyes, filling her head with its concussion and leaving her with no choice but to watch stars pop into life as they filled her vision. Her makeshift bat slid in her grasp, but didn’t fall to the ground as her legs wobbled like Jell-O before failing and dropping her to the ground. Pain lanced through her knees, fighting with the symphony of light and sound filling her head.

  Swinging the plank, ignoring the splinters it left in her palm, she hit his left leg beside the knee. The scream from his lips was loud enough to cut through the ringing in her head. A tug of the plank she couldn’t resist, and the wood ripped from her hands, leaving a second trail of slivers to join the first.

  Through her haze of tears and the fog filling her head, she was barely aware of Charlie pulling himself up and the knife at his feet making a metallic clink as he scrambled to grab it. His friend sat on the ground, back against the alley wall as he cradled his leg. There must have been a nail in the end of the plank, one she hadn’t noticed, because the wood stuck to him while the leg of his pants flowed with a dark wet color.

  Shaking her head, trying to clear the cotton fog, she moved out of the way before the knife aimed at her could sink home.

  Having put all his energy into the swing, her attacker stumbled forward and into her field of vision. For the first time since hitting him with the pallet shard, she saw the damage she’d done. Blood covered the side of his face, welling down from multiple cuts to his scalp, and pooled in his shirt. One eye stared at her while the other remained closed, though whether that was from the blood pouring over it or because she’d damaged it, she didn’t know.

  An odd warmth filled her belly at the sight.

  His yell of combined anger and frustration registered somewhere behind her and, in the split second before his attack, gave her enough notice to react. This time she didn’t even shout as flame leapt from her hand and engulfed his head. Just as before, she could tell it wasn’t doing any real damage, but that wasn’t what she was after. With one eye shut and the other filled with her blue fire, he wouldn’t be able to see her move.

  Scrambling back, she put more space between them, stopping only when she ran against the invisible wall blocking the alley entrance. Watching him slap at the flames dancing around his head, she knew her reprieve would be a short one. What could she do? Weapon gone, magic useless. Her bag of tricks was running empty.

  Realizing most of the sound in her ears was her own blood pumping, she tried to calm herself. If she wanted to get out of this, she needed to keep her wits. The barrier around their magic user held, though she could feel it weakening faster than she’d hoped, and the other guy still lay screaming on the ground with a plank of wood and rusty nail piercing his knee.

  Gar’s words floated up from the back of her mind. Remain calm. Focus on one thing at a time.

  Taking a breath, she imagined the flame again and pushed everything she had into it. The pain in her head, her fear, everything about her went into the small orange glow until there was nothing left but her and her thoughts. Those too became fodder for the flame as she emptied herself.

  As she entered the state of nothing she and Gar spent weeks trying to achieve, she couldn’t help thinking the transition was easy as long as she thought she would die. First with Mama Ade, then now. She should tell Gar to use the technique next time she saw him. The thought rippled through her conscious, shaking her concentration. But before it could do more harm, she fed it into the flame.

  In the state of emptiness, she didn’t even feel a sense of euphoria as the world around her changed. The swirling mists of magic flowing around and through everything shifted into focus, and it was like seeing the world as it really was for the first time. Every movement, from the buzzing of flies dive bombing a Dumpster to the swinging of her arms, cut through the rainbow mists making them twist and eddy like an underwater current.

  Everything surrounded by the kaleidoscope of color appeared to be moving in slow motion. She watched the wings of flies flap up and down and could trace the patterns of veins in them. The thug on the ground threw back his head with an agonized scream that lasted for minutes. Even the man charging her moved so slowly she was sure she could walk around him with ease. Lifting her hand to slap away the knife, she watched her body moving in slow motion as well. It was her mind, she realized, moving faster than everything around her. She hadn’t bought herself more time to move, rather she had more time to think.

  Caught in the wave of color, the dark alley was now as bright to her as if the sun hung at high noon. While the bright colors were too many to describe, they only highlighted the darkness centered in the chest of her knife wielding attacker. It was as if a large black hole lived in his torso, sucking in light and magic in equal measure. With a single thought, she sent a short burst of energy hurtling at the black spot and watched the darkness devour it like a starving child given a piece of candy.

  Considering her alternatives, she tried attacking him from a different angle, sending a jolt of power flying around in an arch to strike at his back. Even as the surrounding mists parted for the attack, the black hole swiveled around his body to absorb it. Whatever the spell was, its protection was really no different from any ward she’d ever created or encountered, though unlike hers, this one moved to stop the attack.

  At that thought, an idea, one smaller than a speck of dust floating in the air, formed. Every ward she created, even the one circling their magic user, was big. They had to be to stop every attack, regardless of the direction it came from. The one in front of her moved, making it unique, but it left a lot of space open as it did. Perhaps that was its weakness.

  Summoning the same spell, she hurled it at the man in front of her, just as she had before. And just like before, the black hole swiveled around to absorb the attack. At the very last second, she split the flow, sending one tendril to slam into the man’s chest and a smaller one to hit him in the side. She poured as much energy as she could into the smaller finger of magic, forcing it to hit him at the same moment as the larger attack.

  Unable to protect against the second flow without leaving him vulnerable to the first, the black spot quivered, but didn’t move as it absorbed the larger spell.

  If she’d had the time, she would have done a victory dance as the smaller weave of energy slammed into the man’s side, knocking him from his feet to send him crashing to the ground. As it was, her excitement for her discovery shattered the emptiness around her and brought her back to her normal state. Like having a switch flipped, the alley plunged back into darkness and the world around her sped up to normal time.

  The unexpected shift dropped her to her knees as her stomach flipped and her mind whirled. She’d once made herself dizzy spinning in an office chair and standing up too fast. That was how she felt now, and it took everything she had to keep from puking.

  A moan from her left said Charlie was hurt, but still alive. It was time to end this fight, and now she knew how. Summoning the largest fist of power she could, sighing as the magic bored through her nausea, she started speaking words that melted from the mind as soon as they were heard. Power built and a wind only she felt whipped her dark hair around her face. Her skin tingled with electric might as her spell grew in ferocity. The pressure building around her, fed by al
l her anger at this man for the pain he’d caused, grew to the point of bursting before she noticed something was off.

  It was the only warning she got. Twisting the spell, she changed from attack to pure defense, throwing up a protective ward up in time to stop the dark red glare of an unknown spell from striking her.

  Turning away from the man on the ground, she faced the only one left standing. Their magic user, having broken through her inverted ward, stared at her. His skinny chest heaved, and a red flush infused his pale cheeks. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or exhausted, but either way, his eyes burned in fury.

  Palms out, she slid to the side, making sure her view of him was unobstructed.

  “We don’t have to do this,” she said, praying he would listen to her. Battles between magic users almost always ended in one of them dying, because the winner had either greater power or more will.

  “They’re family,” he said, his voice notable for the lack of the southern drawl she expected from everyone from around here.

  “And they’re still alive. For now, anyway.” Her stomach clenched.

  His eyes twitched between the men on the ground, anger with her warring with concern for his family.

  From where she stood, she could see the chest of the one she knew still rising, but the moans from the other had gone quiet. A pool of blood spread on the ground beneath him, though it didn’t look like he was in any danger of dying yet.

  “I didn’t start this fight. He did.” Her chin jerked toward the unconscious form. “He stole something that belongs to me and now he’s roped you into trying to kill me over it. Are you a murderer, too? Do you want to kill me because of him? I’m willing to walk away now, are you?”

  As she asked, she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind and for the first time, she noticed how young the boy was. She decided it was time to push the point home before he made up his mind. Taking a breath, hoping she was right, she dropped her hand and the ward she held.