Deathtrap

by Dannika Dark

  His eyes flashed up. “That’s a look I’ve seen before. Trouble.”

  “Forget the keys. I know where to find our guy.”

  He barked out a laugh. “I was away for ten minutes, and you’ve solved the fecking case?”

  I held my hand in front of his face.

  He turned it sideways and read the address. “Where did you get this?”

  I lowered my hand. “The fates. They want us to find the baby.”

  “I suppose the heavenly angels came down and gave you his address? How convenient.”

  “A friend of mine. He’s a regular here and recognized the guy. Saw me chasing after him.”

  “And what did he want in return?”

  “Nothing.” I moved past Christian and into the main hall.

  “Nobody gives away something for nothing,” he said, following close behind. “How do you know this isn’t a trap? You’re a fine-looking Mage, Raven. A lot of men would like a taste of that.”

  I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see. “If he wanted some of this, he could have easily gotten it already.”

  “I’m not even going to ask what that’s supposed to mean.”

  I stopped near the bar and turned to face him. “So, are you up for a little danger? Or would you rather go back to Keystone and babysit the computer while Wyatt’s out buying two sacks of fries?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Did you consume one of the specialty drinks? Should I be concerned about your sudden agenda change?”

  “This idea is not drink induced. You should know me better than that. So, what’ll it be?” I rocked on my heels, eager for an adventure.

  He put his arm around me and led us to the door. “I can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?” Christian came to a halt. “Jaysus. I should have known.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He gave me a scathing glance and pointed at a ring of shiny keys sitting on a nearby table.

  “If you wanted to get me out of the house, you could have just asked me out on a date.”

  “I didn’t swipe Shepherd’s keys as a master plan to get you out of the house. It’s fate. We’re supposed to take his Jeep to search for the Mage.” When I approached the table and held up the keys for a closer inspection, I recognized the house key. Yep. They were Shepherd’s.

  Christian swiped the keys from my hand. “Maybe the fates want us to take the car home. Why do I have the feeling I’m going to regret this?”

  I smirked. “Is that what Viktor said before he hired you?”

  “That’s what your husband is going to say before reciting his vows.”

  “That’s what every woman says before they have sex with you.”

  Christian swaggered toward the door, swinging the keys around his finger. “That’s what I’m going to say before you serve our dinner tonight.”

  Chapter 13

  The engine revved as Christian plowed through a patch of ice. He flashed me a wolfish grin. “She handles like an experienced whore. I might have to get me one of these.”

  As much as I hated taking Shepherd’s Jeep Wrangler without permission, Christian had insisted we needed a vehicle with traction to maneuver the slick roads. It wasn’t the smaller model but a special edition four-door with a hardtop and extended cab.

  He could literally run over Wyatt’s car with this machine.

  “What happens when we get there?” I asked.

  Christian’s fangs lengthened. “Let me do all the talking.”

  I yanked a few loose threads from a hole in my jeans. “Should we tell Viktor what we’re up to?”

  “He created teams for a reason. We don’t even know if this Mage is the same man who murdered the poor lass.”

  “He ran from me.”

  “Maybe he just caught a whiff of your perfume and the desperate look in your eyes.”

  As soon as we pulled up to a light, the engine died. Christian turned the key, and it started up only briefly before dying again.

  “Oh, for feck’s sake. We’re out of petrol.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “These new cars have too many gadgets, but I know the sound of an empty tank.”

  I sighed and stared at the road ahead. Maybe it was a sign.

  “How’s your leg?” he asked.

  “Better. We had about fifteen minutes of sunshine this morning. I didn’t want to run downstairs and miss it, so I climbed out a window and healed myself.”

  Christian turned a few switches and finally pulled out the keys. “We’re walking from here.” He gave me a scrutinizing look before searching the console and glove compartment. He tossed one of Wyatt’s hats on my lap. “Put your hair in that.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve never been to the Bricks?”

  I looked around at the empty streets. “Is that a bar?”

  “No. It’s a place rife with danger and out of the higher authority’s jurisdiction. Put on the hat and look unassuming.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s possible.”

  When we got out of the Jeep, Christian locked the doors and patted the hood. “Nice knowing you.”

  “No one’s going to steal it without gas,” I pointed out.

  He unwrapped a lollipop as we crossed to the sidewalk and stuck it in his mouth. “They’ll strip her down like a two-dollar hooker. There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

  “So why am I wearing a hat? Is that the law in Munchkinland?”

  “Because you look like a girl.”

  I chuckled. “So without a hat on, I don’t? That’s quite a compliment, Mr. Poe.”

  He pulled the stick out of his mouth after biting off the candy and tossed it into a trash can. “You have a tough look for a woman. The coat hides your breasts and—”

  “Vagina?”

  “Don’t be daft.” After yanking the oversized hat down and covering my eyebrows, he lifted the collar of my coat to shield my face. “Keep your head down. If you think juicers are a problem in the parking lots, you haven’t seen anything yet. This neighborhood isn’t used to beautiful women outside of the powerful untouchables.”

  “You think I’m beautiful?”

  He finished tucking away the loose strands of my black hair. “They’d love nothing more than getting their hands on a woman so they could bind with her.”

  I shivered. Juicing was stealing a Mage’s light for an energy high. Binding was an intimate act of sharing sexual light between couples. Having a Mage do that against a person’s will was the equivalent of rape. A rogue I could handle, but I started imagining gangs of men descending upon me like vultures. Christian was a skilled fighter, but impalement wood could immobilize him. I set my mouth in a grim line and tried walking like a man.

  Christian laughed. “Strut like you’ve got a pair between your legs, not like you need to take a shite.”

  “I’ve never had a pair between my legs.”

  “Is that so?”

  I shoved him hard enough that he lost his balance and stumbled into the gutter. “If these black marketeers live on the shanty side of town, maybe the higher authority should do a raid and clean up the riffraff.”

  We turned a corner, and Christian pointed at a pile of rubble across the street. “Do you think they haven’t tried? That’s why they call it the Bricks. You’ll see plenty more piles of them scattered throughout. Over the years, some of the buildings were destroyed in Breed battles. No one rebuilds out here.”

  “Don’t the humans notice?”

  “We have insiders who work to keep city officials out.”

  “So we’re protecting the criminals?”

  “Aye. Depraved men who would love nothing more than to start a war with mankind. Better the humans keep out. The higher authority can’t control these men, so there’s an unspoken agreement that we’ll turn a blind eye so long as they don’t call attention to themselves.”

  We walked by a vagrant leaning against a building, and I pulled my lips in even tighter. I must have l
ooked like a feral Chihuahua, but Christian had me paranoid, so I tried to look as crazy as possible.

  After we passed the guy, Christian quietly said, “Don’t look back.” Then he released a boisterous laugh and patted me on the shoulder.

  I glanced at a pile of rubble that was once a wall. “This place looks like a tornado ripped through it. Why would anyone want to live like this?”

  “Some people thrive amid disaster.”

  “There are better sides of town to live in,” I said, kicking aside a paper bag.

  “They have freedom out here, and freedom means power. Some are illegally made immortals, but most are ancient. They rejected the higher authority and local Councils when they were established. Not everyone wanted to abide by rules. You’ll find something like the Bricks in every city.”

  “What about small towns?”

  “They congregate in the woods.”

  “Like you?”

  “That’s my home away from home.”

  “That’s not a home; that’s a hideout. What are you hiding from?”

  “Your cooking.”

  I dodged his gaze. Christian had won that round.

  In the blue haze of twilight, I mentally counted my weapons. Small blade in the heel of my boot, a push dagger disguised as a buckle, and another hooked to my belt on the side. I unbuttoned my coat for easy access. Only one of them was a stunner, so I needed to make sure that this time I didn’t miss.

  “Do you know anyone who sells good weapons?” I asked. “There weren’t any that caught my eye at Pawn of the Dead.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Something I can carry on my arm or beneath my shirt that’s easily concealed. I also wouldn’t mind a few impalement stakes.”

  He gave me a cross look.

  “Aw, don’t look so glum,” I said, hooking my arm in his. “I’d only use it against you on special occasions.”

  “I can find you a weapon, but if you’re looking for something specific or need sizing adjustments, you’ll want to talk to Shepherd. Old Mother Hubbard has nothing on his cupboard.”

  I dropped my arm to my side when we passed a raucous bar.

  “What are you looking at?” a man snarled. “You got a problem?”

  Christian kept his head high and his eyes fixed on the sidewalk ahead. I didn’t look back, but my ears perked up. Christian had better hearing, and based on his cool stride, he didn’t seem concerned that the man would follow us.

  He pointed toward a red building on the right. “That’s the one. Do me a favor and try not to kill anyone. All we’re doing is following a lead.”

  “Now where’s the fun in that?”

  When we reached the entrance, the doors were locked. We needed either a key or someone inside to buzz us in.

  I folded my arms. “Now what?”

  Christian selected a random button.

  “Yeah?” a surly man answered.

  “Pizza delivery.”

  “I didn’t order no pizza.”

  “I’m freezing my arse off out here. Two pepperonis and one supreme, already paid for. What’s the problem?”

  I laughed in disbelief when the man buzzed us in.

  Once inside, Christian ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Never underestimate the stupidity of men when it comes to food and sex.”

  When we reached the sixth floor, I looked down the hall in both directions, making note of where all the exits and stairwells were. It was an old building with peeling paint, wainscoting, tubular lights along the ceiling, and black doors inside small recesses in the wall. I concealed my light so as not to tip him or anyone else on the floor off that a Mage was lurking about. Christian gave me a light push to stand away from the peephole. He took off my hat and pulled it over his head, as if somehow that magically changed his appearance.

  I pulled my stunner out of its sheath and gripped it firmly, the blade protruding between my middle and ring finger. I gave Christian an impatient look, wondering if he was going to stand there all day or get this show on the road. He pinched his chin, studying the door, and finally rapped his knuckles against it.

  “Who’s there?” a voice boomed.

  Christian cleared his throat and took on an American accent. “Al’s Wrecker service. We found your vehicle. We can’t scrap it until you sign release papers. Unless you’d rather I leave it outside. Either way, I need your signature.”

  I nodded. Quick thinking and believable.

  “Goddammit,” the man grumbled.

  “There’s also a fee for cleanup,” Christian added.

  I kicked him in the leg. No need to push it. If this guy was cheap, he might keep the door locked. I stayed out of view as the latch clattered against the wood.

  The moment the door cracked open, Christian wedged his foot inside, his arm leaning against the doorjamb. “Didn’t think you’d see me again, did you?”

  When the man tried to close the door, Christian flung it open.

  “Oh, for feck’s sake. Put the weapon down, you dolt.”

  I wedged past Christian and stepped to the left. The Mage glared at us, a small piece of impalement wood in his hand, no bigger than a pencil. I quickly noticed his appearance now that I had a good close-up look. Dark hair shaved on the sides and long on top. When I noticed he had shoes on, I guessed by his rumpled hair that he must have recently woken up and was planning to go out soon. No sign of any weapons on his person outside of the wood in his hand, so we’d definitely caught him off guard.

  His apartment was bright, spacious, and unremarkable. It lacked curtains and furniture that one might acquire over a lifetime. The door on the right presumably led to a bedroom. Straight ahead, a turquoise sofa faced an old television set, and the wooden coffee table in front of it was littered with notebooks and soda cans. I noticed a cheap desk on the left-hand wall and something blinking on the computer monitor. The narrow kitchen to our immediate left was dark and empty except for a bowl of cereal and carton of milk on the bar.

  The Mage didn’t bother to wipe the milk stain off his goatee as he held up his weapon in self-defense, which made it all the more comical. “Get out of my space, fanghole.”

  Christian slammed the door shut with the heel of his boot and inched forward, his gaze sharpening on the man, who quickly broke eye contact. “You want to tell me why you ran from us?”

  “None of your business, Vamp.”

  Christian glowered. “What do you know about Jennifer Moore?”

  The Mage winced. It was so subtle it could have been mistaken for a casual blink, but I’d caught enough men in a lie to spot the tells. He reached in his pocket and palmed what looked like a smart key for a car. When he pressed the clicker, two large speakers on his desk illuminated blue around the edges, and “Walk Like an Egyptian” started up full blast.

  Christian and I exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that this search had just hit level weird.

  The man sneered. In a quick motion, he drew back his arm and flicked his wrist, the impalement stake spiraling through the air toward Christian, who dodged it. The stick would never have gone through Christian’s coat, so the Mage was stalling.

  I flashed toward him with my stunner in hand just as the door crashed open behind me. I didn’t have time to look. When I shoved the Mage to knock him off-balance, he spun to the side and sent me careening straight toward the wall. I quickly turned and swiped my blade in a crisscross motion, now aware of the drama ensuing by the door.

  A Vampire had burst into the room and attacked Christian. Their fangs were out, and it looked like one of those late-night paranormal movies—minus all the hissing. Christian threw the other Vamp against the wall, leaving behind a large crack.

  When the Mage ran past me, I caught the back of his shirt and slashed at his arm. He spun around and punched me in the nose, blood immediately spraying the floor and gushing down my face. A hot flash of pain stunned me for a second, and then I noticed an odd red mark on his upper chest where th
e buttons had popped off his shirt.

  Did I do that?

  I flashed around him and attempted to drive the stunner into his back, but he twisted and bellowed in pain when it sliced him across the side instead. The Mage bent my wrist at a painful angle, forcing me to drop the dagger. Before I could pick it up, he kicked it across the room.

  His eyes darted left toward the window, giving away his intent. Before he made a move, I delivered a high kick and struck him in the chest. He pirouetted toward the wall and crashed into a floor lamp, which he grabbed and swung at me. The brass clipped my shoulder seconds before I flashed out of the way.

  Where’s my dagger!

  I glimpsed it across the apartment, but I didn’t dare go after it, or this guy would get away. Fighting wasn’t his priority so much as jumping out the damn window right behind me. My coat was becoming a hindrance, restricting movement, so I quickly took it off and flicked it aside.

  Meanwhile, the Bangles were singing about waitresses bringing more drinks, and it made me notice the wine bottle on the bar. I grabbed it just as the Vampire slammed Christian across the sink, pinning him with a choke hold. Christian frantically swung his arm around in search of a weapon, so I put a potato scrubber in his hand. He gave me a scathing glance before I spun around and flashed after my Mage, who was halfway out the window. I gripped the waistband of his pants and yanked him inside, smashing the bottle across his head. Shards of glass fell to the floor, and white wine splashed across his back.

  He spun around and swung his arm, but I dodged his punch. My best chance to incapacitate him was to bite an artery and drain him, but I couldn’t get close enough.

  I grabbed his ankle and yanked it, but he held on to the end of the bar and shook me off. When he caught sight of my fangs, his eyes rounded. I was used to that reaction, and it made me smile a little wider and lick them for show.

  Meanwhile, I glimpsed Christian impaling his attacker with a piece of wood. Panting, he stood up—a pizza cutter in one hand and a cheese grater in the other. “Pick your method of execution, you short-fanged, beady-eyed little numpty. Your onion breath is more offensive than your fighting ability.”

  The Mage flung open a narrow closet door and grabbed a long sword, which he started brandishing. I jumped back, assuming he was going to swing at my neck. Instead, he suddenly threw it like a spear. I flashed backward and fell, my eyes wide as the sword sliced the air two inches above my nose before clattering across the floor behind me.