Bella Flores Urban Fantasy Collection

by R D Martin

  Reaching out with her mind, following the lessons Gar spent so many patient hours trying to teach, she formed her intent in the mist around her attacker. She willed the mists to move, to create a barrier around him, just as he’d done around her. Now was the time. If she ever had the belief and willpower to fight, she needed to do it now.

  Opening her eyes to the physical world, she watched the Baron in his new body strut toward her and realized the eternity she’d felt had only been a few short moments. The expression on the man’s face hadn’t changed in the slightest, and a cloud of blue smoke continued trailing in his wake.

  Pushing against the mists felt like trying to force a bowl of Jell-O to remain level during an earthquake by lifting the edges of a table with a fork. She could see what she wanted in her mind’s eye, and she could force her will into the mists, but the mist seemed to have a mind of its own as it swirled around them. This couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t allow it to happen.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead, though it had nothing to do with the temperature, and she felt herself vibrating under the mental strain.

  Even the Baron seemed to notice this change in her as he approached, stopping just out of arms’ reach and tilting his head.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice containing as much humor as curiosity. “Still trying to fight, little Witch? You don’t have the power—”

  It was as if the tension in her snapped like an overstretched rubber band. Suddenly she was no longer pushing against the mist, instead clearing a space for it to flow through. And like water filling an empty cup, the magic came, though not how she had imagined it.

  Before the Baron could finish his sentence, the ward holding back her magic dropped and power flooded back through her. Holding up her hand, she directed the energy toward the Baron, forming it into a crackling ball of electricity so bright it almost blinded her to watch it move. The ball of power passed the scant inches between them and lodged itself into his chest, lifting the man off his feet and sending him tumbling through the air.

  Before his body could crash to the ground, another spell was already on her lips. This time a solid wall of air struck the man, picking him up and sending him flying farther away like a stone skipping on a still pond. There followed a sick thud as flesh slammed into a stone monument, and bones snapped with audible cracks.

  Panting, she almost dropped to her knees in the gravel. The mental and physical strain was almost too much, but for the briefest moment, she saw the power of being able to guide the mists to do her will, and it was incredible. It was the flavor of chocolate, the heart-pounding excitement of that first stolen kiss, and the sun-kissed warmth of a tropical beach all rolled into one. She would definitely have to learn more control over that.

  “Well, well. It looks like we gonna have some fun here tonight.” The Baron’s voice carried on the breeze and sent a cold shock running through her.

  Snapping her head up, she stared at the body still lying bent and mangled against the stone pillar. The sound didn’t appear to be coming from it, though she knew she’d heard it.

  Stepping forward, ready to sling another spell, she approached the body. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ray still wrapped in the iron fence’s embrace. He looked better, less like he would pass out from blood loss, though the rictus of pain plastered on his face was not one she’d forget soon. Once this was finished, she’d heal him as soon as possible.

  Approaching the corpse, she prodded it with her foot. Though the dark suit, torn from skipping across the ground, shifted at her poking, the body it clothed didn’t move.

  “Where are you, Baron?” she asked the darkness. Her voice bounced between stone and brick structures before disappearing into the distance. She wasn’t sure she wanted an answer to the question.

  A breeze, gentle as a warm summer’s night, wound its way up her leg and around her waist. As it did so, the Baron’s reply came as though whispered by a lover and meant for her ear alone.

  “Everywhere,” the voice said. At the same moment, the breeze encircling her waist tightened like a snake around its lunch and she felt her feet leave the ground. She didn’t have time to yelp before being pitched forward, barely missing the body on the ground, though her shin caught the sharp corner of a family crypt, twisting her in the air before she hit the ground hard enough to force the air from her lungs. Stars burst in her vision as she gasped for air that didn’t want to come.

  Sharp popping sounds echoed around her, and the ground beneath her shook. Pulling herself up the side of the crypt, she saw cracks spiderweb across its stone surface, though from the ground shaking or for some other reason, she wasn’t sure. An explosion like miniature fireworks nearby made her whip her head around. A hand, mostly bone but with strips of flesh still clinging to it, pushed its way through the brick surface of an old crypt. Glass shattered and tinkled to the ground somewhere to her left, though she couldn’t see its source in the darkness.

  “You cannot stop me.” It felt as though the Baron was speaking to her from all directions, and her skin tingled in response. “Destroy one vessel and I’ll take another. I am of the spirit and your magic is nothing compared to mine. Perhaps I’ll take your form for my next host. You won’t be needing it.”

  The sound of grating stone was her only warning before something grabbed at her, clutching so tight to her shirt the thin material ripped as she pulled away. Falling backward, she stared wide-eyed as the occupant of the crypt pushed its way out of the stone structure. She could tell it had once been a woman, but that was all. Scrambling back, she tried to put more space between her and the rotting corpse struggling to free itself from the stone.

  Stone and mortar popped and flew around her as dead occupants worked to escape their internment and she continued to move back, crab-walking as fast as possible. This couldn’t be happening, she thought as she moved to dodge a bit of flying debris. Nothing could bring back the dead, but it looked like the Baron was trying. One man, looking as though he had been dead only a couple of weeks, stepped around a corner and moved in her direction in that jerking manner she associated with the Baron’s puppets.

  She didn’t hesitate and threw a ball of flame to engulf the animated corpse. Fire devoured flesh with the sound of frying bacon, and his clothes flared bright as the material was consumed as well, leaving nothing behind but the burnt smell of polyester.

  Moving away, she caught sight of another shuffling figure and sent an arc of electricity shooting toward it. Darkness disappeared in the wake of the bright white and she saw the figure struck and disappear, falling to the ground under the onslaught of her magic.

  “There is no way you can win,” said the Baron, though this time his voice came not on the wind but from the mouths of the animated dead.

  Tossing another spell, she watched one corpse go down and another two take its place. As they did, his words echoed in her mind. There was only her fighting, and he had an unlimited number of the dead to throw at her.

  Ducking, she avoided the grasp of a disfigured teenage girl. Her funeral must have been closed casket, because she looked as though she’d met her demise in an industrial accident.

  “I will have what is mine,” said the girl in the Baron’s voice.

  Kicking out, she tried to push the girl away, but her foot sank into the center of the teenager’s stomach with a soft squelch. The girl’s movement stopped briefly, but it was enough. Pushing, the corpse fell back and, with a thick sucking sound, so too did the shoe embedded in its stomach.

  Bella shuffled back, ready to turn this corpse into a walking torch as well, when her foot landed on something soft enough to shift beneath her weight. The unexpected movement left her unbalanced and it was as though the world decided she needed to hit the ground again. Hitting the ground on her backside, her spell went wide to splash against the side of a single person crypt, lighting it up like a barbecue pit on Independence Day.

  Shaking her head, she felt the object she’d tripped ove
r beneath her, and, reaching back, she recognized the cloth doll the Baron wanted so desperately. She’d stepped on it without seeing it there. Holding the doll up, she spied the red case of the artifact, cracked open to reveal the edge of the shell inside. Grabbing the case’s strap, she yanked it open. The shell didn’t appear damaged, though she’d have been surprised if it were, and its surface glinted yellow in the firelight.

  “Is this what you want?” she screamed into the night, holding the doll aloft. In the light of her fire, the rough sewn doll stood out in bas-relief. The teenager stopped in her tracks, the single eye remaining in her destroyed face staring at Bella and the doll unblinking.

  “Give it to me,” she said, holding out a desiccated arm.

  “Back off, or I’ll destroy it.” Flames licked at her arm and wrist as she allowed her magic some rein. The girl’s face changed as it did so, shifting from placid indifference to a mocking smile. “I mean it, back off.”

  “Go ahead. Destroy it,” the Baron said through his puppet’s mouth. The air in front of the girl rippled and her body changed, contorting and thrashing as it grew taller. Destroyed sections of her face and body morphed like they were healing as well.

  Covering her face, protecting herself from the rippling air and heat consuming the corpse, Bella watched in amazement as the figure stood straight and unblemished as a runway model. The body’s movements smoothed out, becoming less like invisible strings pulled her arms and more like she moved on her own. A moment later and a clap of thunder followed a rolling wave of heat. In place of a mangled corpse stood a woman who could have stepped off a magazine cover.

  “Ah, that’s better,” the girl said in an airy voice. The husky rasp of the Baron was gone, but the aura flowing from the girl was still most definitely his. “It’s too much effort to fix these, easier to just get another, but on this occasion, I’ll make an exception.” She raised her hand and a short cigar appeared between her fingers, glowing brightly as the new body of the Baron took a deep drag. “Now, give me the doll and I’ll let you leave.”

  “What about Ray?”

  “What about him?”

  “Will you let him go as well?”

  “I could do that.” The new body of the Baron shrugged as though considering the trapped man was beneath it. “In fact, give me the doll now and you can both walk away from here. I’ll forget either of you exists. Deal?”

  Bella stared at the girl and, while a hundred thoughts raced through her mind, walking away from this unscathed was not one of them. She had a greater chance of winning the Lotto than the Baron sticking to his live and let live promise.

  “Well?” the girl asked, impatience underpinning her question. “Do we have a deal?”

  “You’ll let Ray and me just walk out of here?”

  “Of course. I have everything I want and you’re no threat to me. I can be gracious in victory.”

  Her hand holding the doll wavered as she held it out. There was no escaping the conclusion he was stronger than her, with lifetimes more experience than she would ever gain.

  Taking a step forward as the Baron reached for its prize, the smile on the new face widened further, showing off too perfect teeth. Its eyes glinted in the firelight, beaming with the glee of a pirate digging up a new treasure.

  “Catch,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the crackle of flames dancing behind him. Without taking her eyes off the Baron, she dropped her hand and swept up the red leather case at her side. A cold sensation raced through her hand and up her arm as though the artifact wanted her to touch it and waited with anticipation for the next soul to devour. With the top of the case broken open, the aged shell reflected the yellow light from the fire, making it look like unbleached bone.

  The hand holding the case stopped in mid motion, frozen in place as solidly as a mammoth in a glacier. The artifact rolled to the edge of its container and, balancing on its tip and tail for the briefest moment, tumbled off to land in the gravel in front of her. The magic wrapped around her, squeezing tight, and her heart sank. He’d been too quick, too prepared.

  “Silly child,” the Baron said, looking her in the face. “Did you think you could trap me so easily? I have fought this city’s Queens to a standstill. I control the lives and fates of thousands. And you thought you could defeat me? Me!”

  “Maybe not,” she said, straining under the pressure of his spell as it continued wrapping around her chest before winding its way up her other arm. “But there’s one thing you don’t control yet.”

  “Oh, and what’s that?”

  The bindings around her chest made breathing more than a struggle and, held tight as she was, she still had one trick left, though she didn’t know if it would work.

  “Me.”

  Staring at him, eyes squinting in a combination of pain and defiance, she opened the fingers clutching the doll just as the spell entwining her arm reached her hand.

  Watching the doll fall was like watching a movie slowed to half speed. Each finger unfurled at an imperceptible rate until nothing held the cloth construct. Her heart pounded in her ears, and almost as though the doll kept beat, it twisted in time with each thud of her chest. Ages came and went in the space of seconds before the doll struck the shell on the ground and bounced off, landing on its back without even raising a poof of dust.

  The bindings around her arms and chest disappeared. With the fetters gone, she slumped where she knelt, taking a large gulp of air and clearing the stars already forming in her vision. A high-pitched scream tore through the night air and she jerked her head up, throwing up a hasty shield as she did.

  The Baron twisted and thrashed in the air in front of her, screeching and spitting like a cat caught in a bag. Arms flailing wildly, the body he rode moved forward even as it fought to move back.

  Scrambling out of the way, Bella watched as the person in front of her blurred like a chalk drawing caught in a sudden rain. Part of it seemed to remain solid, while another part, one vastly darker and more ominous, was pulled out, twisting and turning like squid ink caught in a whirlpool. Tumbling over itself, the darkness fought against the power pulling its leading tip toward the shell’s opening.

  Wind picked up around them, whipping her hair into her face even as it picked up stones from the gravel path and flung them in random directions. Yet the shell did not move.

  The Baron’s body screamed, the wail so loud it echoed through the cemetery and the woods beyond before bouncing back.

  Slapping her hands over her ears, she fell back, trying to keep herself safe from the flying debris. The wind pulled harder and a large chunk of stone ripped itself from the ground, dirt and dust fountaining behind it. The stone slammed into the side of a small family crypt, plowing through it like a bullet through tissue paper, before exploding through the other side. Propelled by the wind, it circled overhead before whistling through the air toward where she huddled.

  Hitting her shield, it broke through the barrier with the same indifference it showed the crypt. Diving out of the way, she avoided most of the stone as it flew past, though enough of the debris trailing it pelted her bare arm and shoulder that it felt as though she’d just lost a fight with a hornet’s nest.

  Faster and faster the stone hurtled through the air, whizzing about, destroying everything it hit. Its movement became a gray blur, and with the sound of a cannon ball punching the side of a mountain, it slammed into the artifact with such a massive impact it shook the ground.

  The Baron’s cries and the howl of the wind cut out at the same instant.

  The Baron’s new form dropped to its knees, its perfect complexion marred by cuts and gashes from flying debris, though not a single drop of blood glittered in the firelight. Its eyes, however, blazed with triumph.

  “I told you, you can’t…”

  A sharp crack stopped his speech and drew both of their gazes to the stone. Rocking back and forth as though unsure which direction to fall, the stone quivered on its perch, vibrating like a me
tronome. Another pop sent a small chunk of rock wheeling into the darkness behind her. A crack appeared, running across the top of the stone, giving it a thin-lipped smile before the entire thing exploded into a mass of flying shards and dust.

  Bella ducked back and covered her head as each rock bouncing off her felt like a blow from a prize fighter. With the obstruction gone, the artifact kicked into full gear. Wind howled in a gale strong enough to pull her across the ground toward it.

  Clawing the ground and kicking, she launched herself toward one of the surrounding structures, fighting against the wind pulling at her. Grasping a concrete edge, she held fast as her feet left the ground. Buffeted by the wind and sent crashing into the concrete wall she held on to, she craned her neck just enough to see where the Baron still knelt.

  The black swirling vortex had reappeared, undulating as its tip moved closer to the artifact while the rest of it fought to maintain its hold on the dead girl’s body. Though the wind whipped at everything around them, not a hair on the girl’s head moved in it. The mass shook and stretched, fighting against the pull of the artifact. One by one, the tentacles of darkness holding onto the body stretched and snapped with a twang like a broken guitar string.

  A great scream filled the air, punching through the noise of the wind as though it didn’t exist. With a sound like cloth tearing, the last edges of darkness holding onto the body ripped away and the black mass folded in onto itself as its form disappeared into the shell.

  The moment the darkness disappeared, so too did the wind, dropping Bella to the ground. Lying still, panting from exhaustion, she tried to ignore the pain in her side screaming of broken ribs. It took more than a minute before she pushed herself upright, leaning against the side of a crypt with her head between her knees.

  Raising her gaze, she stared at the artifact, sunk into the earth by the boulder slamming into it, but otherwise as pristine and innocent as the first time she’d seen it.