Bella Flores Urban Fantasy Collection

by R D Martin

  Every man in the room seemed to be oblivious to her presence, almost as though they hadn't seen her. She wasn't used to being the center of attention, but to be completely ignored was an uncomfortable feeling. She watched one of them wind his way across the room and, bending over the incense burner, take a deep breath. When he straightened, a look of ultimate joy was settling on his face even as his eyes rolled until they showed nothing but white. The man swayed in place for a moment before turning and shuffling away, heedless of the furniture he bumped into.

  The smoke? What? It was as though she'd stepped into an opium den and everyone around her was an addict. It was the smoke. But what was in it? Why did they have it burning in the first place?

  More questions vied for her attention, but a single thought froze them almost as it froze her lungs. Cold flashed through her, making her fingers tingle and her chest tighten. She was breathing the smoke as well.

  Clasping a hand over her mouth and nose, she tried to back up, to escape from the room. Half a step was as far as she got before bouncing off a solid mass of muscle. Her escort stood behind her, an implacable wall of flesh as addicted to the smoke as every other man in the room.

  Though he wore the same grin on his face as everyone else, unlike the rest, his eyes still seemed to hold some intelligence.

  But the smoke? What about the smoke? She couldn't hold her breath forever and didn't want to end up as a zombie like the rest of the men. And what about them? Were they prisoners? Were they here because they wanted to be or was it something else? Should she try to kill the incense and set them free somehow? Who was doing this to them? Why were they doing it?

  Her own lungs burned, screaming for the air she was denying them, but she had to do something first. Lifting her hands, she let magic flow through her, filling every hidden crevice and cell. Wind would clear out the smoke, but then she'd have to deal with whoever was behind it. One problem at a time, though. First, she had to get rid of the purple haze. There weren't any windows, so it would have to go out the door. But if she just opened it, it was a sure bet someone would just close it again.

  Right, then. Let's blow it open. With that thought, she began molding the magic filling her. Electricity crackled and hummed, flowing from fingertip to fingertip, jumping in small blue arcs until it left her hand to hover above it. The electric arcs wove and danced around each other until they formed a glowing blue sphere. Ozone filled the air until it was even thicker than the smoke. This seemed to grab every man's attention. As one, they all turned and stared at her. She didn't get the feeling they understood what they saw, but she didn't care.

  The blue ball grew larger as she fed more power into it. She needed to use as much as she dared. There wouldn't be anything left of the door when she finished, but she would need magic to deal with whoever was keeping these men hostage.

  The ball had almost reached the size of her head and was illuminating everything in the room except for the ceiling. Though its light cut through most of the thick haze, the clouds roiling overhead swallowed it up. She was almost there. One more second, one more heartbeat, and the door would be a ruined mass of splinters and char.

  "Please don't." The voice was high and clear, cutting through the crackle of her spell as though it weren't there. "I'm sure our hosts wouldn't be happy if you destroyed their property."

  Bella whirled, turning on her heel to face the source of the sound, bringing her magic to bear. The ball's light whipped around, tossing up shadows and burning them away just as fast. Her lungs screamed, begging for release, but she had to ignore them. She had to do something.

  On a couch pushed against the far wall, a woman stretched out, lounging as though she were sitting by a pool. A long white dress covered most of her body, though as she shifted, part of the gown slid off to reveal smooth tanned skin. A curtain of raven-black hair fell from her head, cascading over her shoulder to hide any parts of her bosom not covered by her outfit. The woman was as beautiful as any of the surrounding men, more so even, with a single exception. While every inch of her face was as flawless as a Grecian statue, her eyes were a solid mass of black darker than her hair.

  Bella paused. Was she another addict like the men? Was she the one in charge?

  The woman continued to stare. One man, a tall one with a red beard and bald head, shuffled over and knelt at the woman's side, lifting a bowl as if in offering. The woman reached in and plucked out something small and squirming, examined it like a connoisseur, and popped it into her mouth. There was a flash of something white and sharp as the morsel disappeared.

  The woman smiled and, to Bella's horror, reached out and stroked the man's cheek. He reacted as a man lanced by electricity. Even on his knees, Bella could see him stiffen at the touch, his back shooting as straight as if an iron rod replaced his spin. His hands quavered and she was surprised he didn't drop the bowl. When the hand left his face, it was as though a part of his soul left with it. Slumping forward, he rose and backed away.

  Bella's entire body shook. This woman was keeping the men prisoner. She was keeping them addicted to the smoke and her touch.

  "Whatever you may think, I assure you they're all here because they want to be." The woman waved a casual hand at the men surrounding her. "They are all free to leave my service at any time, though most never do."

  Bella gasped, partly because she could no longer hold her breath, but mostly because of the woman. Had the woman with the black eyes read her mind? Was she rooting around in there now? The shock, along with a lungful of purple smoke, almost made her lose her hold on the electric ball.

  "No, I'm not reading your mind. I could, if I chose, but it's just not worth the effort. Human brains are… messy. The Moab warned me about you, and I confess, he was right. I assume he sent you with a message?"

  "You—" Bella began, but stopped in a fit of coughing after sucking in another lungful of smoke. Her ears rang with a high pitch that seemed to stab right through her brain.

  "Very well." The woman in white frowned and waved her hand. A gust of wind arose, starting at the floor and picking up speed as it moved. It danced between furniture legs and played with cloth hangings, sending them shuddering. The wind rose even higher, running invisible fingers through Bella's hair, though it seemed to avoid the woman in white, leaving her as pristine as when it arrived. It pushed the purple smoke in front of it, herding it like an invisible cowboy, catching any stray eddy that tried to slip its grasp. When it rose above Bella's head, the wind froze, becoming a barrier between the room's occupants and the haze.

  Bella gasped and the cool, clean air rushing into her lungs made her head swim. An electric tingle raced through her as she relaxed, no longer concerned about suffocation, and the pain in her head caused by the ringing in her ears subsided, though she had a feeling the ringing would be with her for a while.

  "Comfortable?" The woman's voice was smooth and melodic, but the way she spoke put Bella on edge. It made her feel as though she was being weighed and measured.

  Her hands trembled as they held on to the magic of the electric ball. She'd never held the spell so long without releasing it, either to fly at its target or to dissipate, and she could feel herself nearing the edges of her control. She needed to decide before something happened on its own.

  "So, you came with a message from the Finder, yes?"

  Bella shook her head. If this woman was expecting a message from her boss, then maybe she'd misread the situation. The woman had cleared the air, and for once, that wasn't a figure of speech.

  "Uh, no. No message." Bella let the magic disburse, returning to its world of mists. She could summon it back with a thought if needed, but for now it was better to tread lightly. This woman might be an ally, but that didn't mean she was a friend. "I've, um, come to ask for your help."

  "My help?" Though the woman's black eyes opened wider, there was still no trace of white anywhere in them. With the air now clear, Bella could see they had a mirrored look, as though they reflected light
to keep her soul in darkness. "Why would you need my help? The Moab is more than capable of handling—"

  "The Finder is gone." Bella almost yelled the words, though she didn't mean to. This woman just put her on edge.

  "Gone? Gone how? He can't have left yet. The Conclave is still in session." The woman sat up. As she did, her image seemed to ripple, as though Bella were watching her move through water.

  "I don't know. He's just gone."

  "That is not possible. Once the Conclave starts, no one may enter or exit. To do so is madness, even for him."

  The woman stood, and as she did so, she changed. Her tanned skin took on a darker tone until it looked less sun-kissed and more like leather rawhide. As she wound her way between empty chairs and tables, stopping long enough to caress each man she passed, Bella almost recoiled. The woman's body began shifting as she walked. Her back became hunched and formed a dowager's hump. Thick tufts of black and gray hair sprouted over her arms and legs. Her chest sagged and the curtain of raven-black hair fell away as though it were a cheaply made wig.

  In the space of a few heartbeats, the woman in white looked nothing like the woman Bella had seen lazing on the couch, though the black eyes and sharp white teeth remained. Bella realized the woman had been using a glamour to disguise herself, though not a good one if it fell off the first time she moved. Now, looking at her high-sloped forehead, bushy eyebrows, and jaw that stuck out almost far enough to catch rainwater without opening her mouth, the woman looked like some prehistoric ancestor to humans. As a child, Bella had visited natural history museums, if only because her father insisted she learn how wrong humans could be when they came across old bones, and this woman would have fit in any of those exhibits.

  Even odder, none of the men seemed to notice or care about the change. Each time she stopped to touch one, he would bend and stare at her black eyes. She was the center of their world and it was all the confirmation Bella needed to see to understand she was the one in charge, the Algonde.

  "What happened?" The Algonde's voice had changed as well. Its crystalline tingle had been replaced with something deeper and more guttural.

  "What are you?" The question running through Bella’s mind escaped before she could do anything to stop it.

  "Don't recognize me, cousin?" The Algonde's face twisted into a sneer.

  "Cousin? I don't have any—"

  "Of course not, stupid girl. Though we are cousins, you and I." She shook her head as she looked Bella up and down. "Well, not you, really. Humans and my kind were cousins, but that was long ago and I'm the last, thanks to your lust for blood."

  "I didn't, I mean—"

  "Bah. It's of little consequence. Now, what has happened to the Moab?"

  "How do you know him?"

  "We've known each other since before humans learned to plant crops. Now answer my question or I will become very upset. What happened to the Moab?"

  It was weird hearing her boss called by species rather than title, but if this—Thing? Person?—if this thing had known him for that long, his title would mean next to nothing.

  "That's just it. I don't know what happened." Bella launched into her story again, beginning with finding her boss's carrier smashed open and ending with talking to Wallace. She left out her conversation with Darius, as well as running into the Sea Hag, since it was none of the Algonde's business. As she reached the end of the tale, she wondered if she should write it down, since it would be quicker than retelling it to everyone.

  "Well, he's not dead."

  "How do you know?"

  "You're still alive, for a start."

  "What?"

  "Don't you know anything?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  The Algonde sighed as though just talking was a tiring activity. She turned and shuffled a few steps before climbing into the nearest chair. Her small size on the large chair made it look as though someone had dropped a child’s ugly doll on the seat. Rearranging her dress didn't help the look either.

  "Moab are rare. Not as rare as I, of course, but still rare. And they consume magic to survive."

  "You mean they eat magic? How is that even possible?"

  "How do you eat?"

  "Well, I—"

  "It was a rhetorical question. Honestly, how has your kind not died out yet? Five thousand years and none of you have gotten any smarter."

  "Hey, that's not—" She stopped when the Algonde raised her hand.

  "As I was saying, they consume magic to survive. When they do, a small portion of the magic stays with them. Over time, that small portion will grow until it's not so small. The Moab was walking, well, crawling the earth before even me, so you can imagine his portion of magic is rather large."

  Bella nodded. With that much time on the earth, the Finder would have a reserve of magic larger than all the seas combined.

  "But that doesn't explain why you think he's still alive."

  "What do you think will happen to all that stored magic when he dies? That it will just disappear?" She barked a laugh. "Humans have a weapon, a bomb, I think. Something that can destroy cities, yes?"

  Bella nodded. Even without magic, humans had created some incredibly destructive things. She got the feeling the Algonde was talking about nuclear weapons, though.

  "Well, imagine an explosion like that. Something so large it takes out an entire city. When a Moab dies, all the magic stored in him escapes and anything around him… Poof."

  "So if he died—"

  "Anyone left alive would know about it. And since you share a room with him…" The Algonde lifted her hand with the palm stretched open. Above it, a ball of white light appeared, turned red, and exploded with a snap like a firecracker.

  Bella felt cold as the blood drained from her face. She'd been living and working next to a walking bomb? She could have stepped on him. Or maybe dropped his box. What would have happened then? Would she be responsible for killing thousands of people?

  The Algonde must have seen the look on her face and taken some joy in it because her own features split in a smile that showed off every one of her very white, very sharp, teeth. She let Bella squirm for a few moments before continuing.

  "Fortunately, the Moab has been around a very long time and is extremely hard to kill."

  "But he's just a, a bug. He's this big." Bella stretched her thumb and forefinger apart. "I could squash him without thinking." Her stomach lurched at the thought. Of all the ways she'd imagined dying, especially since coming to work for the Finder, death by hairy caterpillar had never been on the list. Now, though, she could see it shooting right up to number one.

  "Possibly, if he let you."

  "If he let me? What's that supposed to mean? Accidents happen—"

  "To other people. Don't you know what his power really is?"

  "I know how powerful he is. He teaches me. Well, Gar mostly teaches me, but the Finder does too sometimes."

  "I'm not talking about that kind of power. I mean his true abilities, not just the magic he can wield."

  "His abilities? He's the Finder. He finds things. The title pretty much says it all."

  "O gods of the earth, protect us from stupid humans." This time, though Bella couldn't see it, she could tell the Algonde was rolling her eyes. "The Moab, like all his kind, has the ability to see the future."

  "They what? No. That's not possible. No magic exists that can tell the future."

  "Don't be more dense than you have to be. Of course it exists."

  "No, it doesn't." Bella's hands clenched into fists. She might not be as old as the Algonde, but she wasn't stupid as the creature seemed to think either.

  The Algonde shook her head and made a tsking sound. Raising her hand, fingers pointed toward the ceiling, she moved them in a complicated gesture. Light coalesced around her fingertips, pulsing and undulating until it formed something the size of a golf ball.

  "Watch," she instructed. Tipping her hand, she let the ball of energy drop. It fell in a smooth
arc, hit the floor, and bounced. As quick as a snake striking at a mouse, the woman snatched the ball from the air before it could fall again. Leaning back in her seat, she moved the ball back to her fingertips. "If I drop the ball again, what will it do?"

  "Um, bounce?"

  The Algonde smiled and nodded like a teacher praising a pupil. Bella's fists tightened enough for her fingernails to bite into her palms.

  "Very good. And if it bounces, I can catch it again, right?" The question was rhetorical, so Bella just nodded and hoped the woman would get to the point. "Theoretically, I could do the same if I had two balls"—the light in her hand shimmered and phased, splitting in two—"or four balls, or eight. You get the picture." She waved her hand as though batting at a fly, and the glowing balls disappeared.

  "So, what does that have to do with anything?" Bella's jaw was clenching. She’d come here for help, not to watch some crazy old creature snatch magic rubber balls out of the air. "Even children can do that."

  "And can they do it with, say, a hundred balls? A thousand?"

  "That's ridiculous."

  "For mortals, yes. They'd have to know how hard each ball would fall, what it would fall on, how high it would bounce, and where they'd have to be to catch it. It's impossible for almost everybody."

  "But what does that have to do with telling the future?"

  The Algonde sighed and muttered something beneath her breath. Bella couldn't hear what she said, but she assumed it wasn't a compliment.

  "If you were capable of thinking of all those things at the same time, and you needed to catch one specific ball out, what would you do?"

  "I'd move to where it would be. But that still wouldn't be telling the future."

  "And why not? You know where the ball will drop, and you know you have to catch it, so you move to the best place to do so. You know if the ball bounces off stone, it will go high. If it hits sand, it may not move at all. You've taken that into consideration when you stop moving. Now all you have to do is wait for it to drop."