Phantom Wolf pf-2

by Bonnie Vanak

  Not even the hum of insects.

  “Time to test the air,” he muttered.

  Shay untied the chicken and set it down. It pecked the ground a minute and then wandered toward the village.

  Suddenly the bird flapped its wings and ran in the other direction, squawking loudly.

  “It’s a sign.” Kelly drew in a breath. “Not good.”

  “Like miners releasing canaries into shafts to check for gas. Looks like our chicken doesn’t want to get near the village,” he muttered. “Stay alert. I’m going to transform back to conserve my powers.”

  Afterward, they walked into town on the cracked sidewalks hugging the narrow cobblestone road. The colonial buildings flanking the street seemed deserted. There was no one lingering in the doorways, no women carrying baskets of goods to sell.

  No children, either.

  Place was a damn ghost town.

  Itching to palm a weapon, Shay nudged Kelly to the cracked sidewalk and the shadows. A wood sign creaked in the breeze, a ghostly sound in the seemingly deserted village. Goods and Sundries, it read in Spanish. His Mage instincts tingled. Something nasty had passed through. He glanced at Kelly.

  “Evil,” she whispered in English. “Whatever was here is evil, but left. I can see the faint traces of white magick. The kids. They were here, as well.”

  “Let’s check it out.”

  A woman cranked open a window across the street, saw them and shut it, drawing the blinds. Shay tensed. They had to hurry. If she were a spotter, they were toast.

  With a faint creak, the door opened beneath his palm. Stale air greeted them inside the store. Metal shelves created two small aisles. On each shelf were glass jars, labeled neatly in Spanish. Canned tomatoes, peppers, corn.

  Then he took a closer look. Kelly slapped a hand to her mouth, covering her gasp.

  Not canned vegetables. Body parts, swimming in fluid. He detected an eyeball squeezed between bloodied organs.

  “They’re not human,” she said.

  “Gods, I hope not.” Shay squinted at the spidery writing below one label. “They look like recipes.”

  “Spells. Black magick spells written in the Old Language. This is the den of the rogue Arcanes.”

  The hell with this. From behind his jeans, he withdrew his Sig Sauer and then pulled the slide back. Cocked and loaded. Cupping his gun, he turned down each aisle. No one. But the miasma of evil filtered through the air.

  “Kelly?” Shay glanced around.

  “In here.”

  She was in a back room, studying a leather-bound book on a dusty counter. Excitement filled her gaze as she looked up. “Look at this! The ancient texts of my Arcane ancestors! This is the book of spells the Elementals hid from us after they killed the Dark Lord three hundred years ago.”

  “Never enter a room before I check it out first.” Shay blew out a frustrated breath and lowered his weapon. “Understand?”

  Her face fell. “I’m sorry.”

  He gave a gruff nod and holstered the gun.

  The shop reeked of darkness. Stale air, no signs of life, not even a spider. And his own spidey senses were tingling. Automatically he scanned for an exit. That back door. He unlocked it. The door led to a square of dirt yard.

  Leaving the door unlocked, he turned back to Kelly, who used a corner of her shirt to leaf through the pages.

  “These are the most powerful Arcane spells, both dark magick and light. If I can find the spell for creating a Dark Lord, we can destroy it before the rogue Arcanes use it. The skull mask I saw at the bar indicates a partial transformation...”

  Shay turned and cocked his head. “How do you know so much?”

  Color flushed her pretty cheeks. “When I was ten, I broke into the forbidden section of your father’s library and read the history books.”

  He laughed. “I knew you weren’t into dolls. So, Miss Lawbreaker, how does an Arcane turn into a Dark Lord?”

  “It’s a dangerous, lengthy process.” Kelly shook her head. “Your father’s books didn’t exactly give a recipe. But I got the sense the final step includes gathering together several innocents and sacrificing them in a ritual.”

  She scanned the pages of the book and then came upon a separate sheet of paper, not yellowed with age like the book. “Sam, look! It’s the names of the nine Elemental Phantom children, and a record of who their parents are....”

  He joined her, reading aloud from the book.

  “‘Through a ritual killing, an Arcane is able to absorb the Phantom’s powers. He can imitate the form of anyone he touches, absorbing their DNA through his skin.’”

  She blew out a breath. “I told you, that’s why they took the kids. With the children’s powers, the rogue Arcanes can move freely among your people and kill them.”

  It still made no sense. His SEAL instincts tingled. “All warfare is based on deception,” he mused. “If your enemy is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If he is in superior strength, evade him.”

  Kelly gave him a questioning look.

  “Sun Tzu. The Art of War.” Shay rubbed the back of his neck. “These criminal Arcanes want to destroy my people. Imitating key players and infiltrating our ranks, yeah, that would work. But once we discovered the deception, it’s over. All Arcanes would be thrown into prison, the war over before it started. The enemy is weak in numbers. They’d need superior strength to defeat all my people....”

  “By creating a Dark Lord, they’d have superior strength,” Kelly pointed out. “The last one, who was executed three hundred years ago, wiped out entire towns before several Elemental Mages managed to combine their powers and destroy him.”

  Sudden insight struck him. He stared at the yellowed parchment, scanning the spidery writing. Gorge rose in his stomach as he read the brutal, graphic details. “Oh, shit. This is not good.”

  “Sam? What did you find?”

  He met her worried gaze. “The final spell for creating a Dark Lord. Using the dead, ah, body of a Mage possessing tremendous courage...and the blood of ten innocent Mage children.”

  Horror stole over Kelly’s face.

  “Once a Dark Lord is created, other Arcanes can absorb his strength and powers by declaring allegiance to the Dark Lord and drinking his blood.”

  It all made sense now. Shay’s heart raced as he imagined the possibilities. “These rogue Arcanes want to kill a group of Phantom children and a brave Mage to create a Dark Lord and in turn, he will create an army of Dark Lords.”

  Her voice dropped to a shocked whisper. “Unstoppable. Their powers so great, even the strongest magick couldn’t destroy them.”

  She covered her face with her hands. “The children may be already dead.”

  “Steady,” he soothed, squeezing her shoulder. “They must still be alive or we’d never access this shop. The barriers would be too strong. And you said these Arcanes had stolen only nine children.”

  At her nod, he felt a surge of relief. “That’s why they haven’t killed them yet. They have to wait to capture the tenth. Someone is leading them. They’re not working alone on this, but through someone’s instructions. And they need a Mage to complete the ritual. Courageous. Not exactly something you can buy at the local grocery store.”

  Kelly stared at him. “Sam, you’re a courageous Mage. You’re a navy SEAL.”

  Oh...shit.

  Realization struck with a sharp punch. “My twin didn’t want me dead. He wanted to capture me.”

  And the SOB was still out there, waiting.

  “Sam, he must be the Mage I saw at the bar. He took your DNA when you were there and followed you here!” Kelly’s mouth quivered. “Take this. Protect yourself. You matter more. If they destroy you—” she slipped off the triskele and put it around his neck “—I’d want to die,” she whispered.

  The selflessness of the gesture deeply moved him. Shay took her hand, emotions churning inside him, and kissed it.

  “No one’s dying today. Let’s get out of here.” Shay
glanced at the window.

  Trembling, Kelly lowered her hands. The letters on the ancient parchment began to twist and turn. They blackened, forming an indecipherable smear, and then puddled into a sticky mass of ink.

  A droplet rose from the book.

  “Don’t touch that,” he yelled.

  As Kelly’s hand brushed the page, the black slime leaped onto her fingers. Screaming, Kelly clawed at it, the goo sinking into her skin like acid.

  Summoning all his powers, Shay directed a streak of white energy at the form.

  White energy severed the black mass in half, but the glob on her hand remained. Shay balled energy in his palm and touched her. White sparks crackled and surged into the black mass, shooting fiery current. Kelly began to convulse.

  The electrical shock was killing her.

  Shay pulled back his powers. Now the mass began to crawl up her forearm, eating into her skin.

  Sobbing, she scratched at it. Shay fumbled to remove the triskele and dropped it. The silver pendant rolled on the floor, beneath the table. He dropped to his knees, fingers combing the dusty floor.

  “Use your magick,” he yelled. “Fight, Kel!”

  Got it. Shay scrambled to his feet.

  A glow of golden light suffused Kelly, crimson sparks attacking the sticky black goo. Face twisted in agony, she chanted ancient words as her blood dripped onto the floorboards.

  Shay laid the triskele on the black blob on her arm. The gelatinous substance parted, forming a mouth. An unholy squeal filled the air, hurting his eardrums. Glowing with white light, the triskele sank into the mass, turning it smaller and smaller...

  Until it vanished with a soft pop.

  With a small cry, Kelly fell back against the wall. Shay draped the pendant around her neck. Gently, he grasped her injured arm. Ugly, bloodied wounds scored the flesh. She offered a brave smile. “It’s not too bad.”

  Shay touched her cheek with a finger, marveling at this woman’s courage. “Let’s get outside, so you can heal.”

  Her gaze shot to the store’s front. “Someone’s coming.”

  He tugged Kelly toward a stack of boxes to hide. Cupping his pistol, he peered around the cover.

  The front door opened and closed. A middle-aged man stood in the doorway. He had brown hair and skin tanned by the sun, and he wore chinos and a plain white shirt. He looked ordinary, a man sent to the store by his wife to fetch a jar of peppers.

  Only what were in the jars weren’t peppers.

  Kelly stole a look. “Arcane,” she whispered. “One of the men guarding the stolen children. I saw him in the photographs Fernando took.”

  They needed to get the hell out of here. He motioned to the window and then helped her climb out.

  Racing down the alleyway, he herded her toward the end. It opened onto another narrow, cobblestoned street leading to a small village square and a whitewashed church. Voices drifted from the square.

  He tucked away the weapon, found a stone bench in the sun and sat her down. Kelly leaned back, her face pale as she absorbed the sunlight. Standing guard, he scanned their surroundings.

  This section of the village seemed untouched by darkness. People went about their business. Women sold vegetables in small stands on the sidewalk.

  The wounds on her arm stitched together. Shay ran a finger over the pink flesh, marveling at her healing ability.

  Kelly gave a wan smile. “Stupid of me to remove the triskele.”

  He knelt beside her. “But not the reason you did it. For me,” he whispered. Shay kissed her hand. “Thank you, Kel. I needed to hear that.”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. “You hungry?”

  “Ravenous.”

  Shay spotted an open-air restaurant and motioned her toward it. He seated her at a table covered with a tablecloth embroidered with tiny pink flowers.

  Anxiety shone in her eyes. He took her hand and squeezed it in reassurance.

  A young waitress came with a pad to take their order. She had large brown eyes, a hesitant smile and rounded cheeks.

  He almost missed the shine of terror in those dark eyes.

  Shay set down the menu and leaned back, smiling with the air of a man intent on flirting. “What do you recommend?” he asked conversationally in Spanish. “My sister brags her pupusas are the best, but I tell her she should not be boastful. Shall I try yours?”

  The pad shook in the girl’s hands. She nodded.

  “Two, and lemonade cut with soda.”

  When the waitress scurried away, Kelly raised her eyebrows. “Flirt much?”

  “I need information,” he said in a clipped tone. “Let me do my job.”

  He’d gathered intel before. He was good, chatting up the friendlies, assessing the area and enemy movement. Sometimes he did it in the local bar, offering drinks and making contacts, using his charm with the ladies. It amazed him how women liked to spill secrets after sex. No need for magick, just good, solid insight into human and paranormal nature.

  Unfortunately in this village, he sensed he couldn’t pry out information with a crowbar and the Jaws of Life. The pall of fear layered the air, threading through the delicious smell of grilled meat and fried peppers. And the idea of using seduction to gain intel turned his stomach.

  Especially when the only woman he really wanted in his bed sat two feet away.

  “Look around.” He lowered his voice. “I need your eyes and ears. Tell me what you see.”

  Scanning the area, she shook her head. “Everyone’s too cheerful, too fake. They’re sweating, nervous. I don’t see any little ones. There are always children, no matter where you go.”

  “No kids, even in the streets.” He dipped a tortilla in the mixture of beans and cheese the waitress brought to the table and ate it. “Odd for a country where the average age is below thirty.”

  It was as if the villagers kept their children hidden, out of fear of someone stealing them....

  They ate quickly. Shay excused himself and headed for the restroom, using the opportunity to scan the café.

  In a corner table, a man sat alone, a glass of yellow foaming beer in front of him. The man glanced up with dead, cold eyes.

  A chill snaked down Shay’s spine. But he detected no dark aura. Just a nasty-tempered villager?

  Someone to keep eyes on.

  When he returned, Kelly’s attention was riveted to a child in the street. Shay’s heart skipped a beat.

  From this distance, the towheaded boy in a rumpled blue shirt and navy trousers could have been his little brother trudging home from school. Pete. The name hovered on his tongue.

  Pete was dead.

  Shay shook free the memory and focused. This child carried a red backpack, hurrying along the sidewalk and glancing over one thin shoulder with a frightened look. Kelly stood as if entranced.

  “Oliver,” she breathed. “One of the missing Phantoms.”

  Shay tossed a few lemps on the table. “Hold on. We follow, but from a distance.”

  Tailing the child, Shay kept Kelly behind him. The narrow cobblestone street ran straight for a few blocks and then curved to the left. Garbage littered the gutter. Inside an open door, two men played dominoes.

  The boy vanished around a corner.

  Shay’s instincts tingled. As they turned the corner, he motioned for Kelly to stop at a lamppost.

  “What?”

  “Not sure. Something.”

  The child ran into an open doorway.

  The street was deserted, not even a stray dog sniffing at the garbage-riddled gutters. Shay hesitated. Every cell screamed to leave Kelly there.

  “Glue yourself to this lamppost. Don’t move. I’ll be back.”

  He removed his sidearm and cupped it, holding it low.

  “I need to see, make sure it’s him,” she protested.

  “I’ll bring him out to you.”

  Kelly lurched forward. “Sam, don’t stop me from doing my job.”

  Shay gave her a gentle push back against t
he lamppost. “Don’t stop me from doing mine. Now, stay here, or do I get out the cuffs again?”

  Slumping against the post, she gave him a sullen look.

  The open doorway was an invitation. Too easy. He checked right and left and ran across the street. No noise, no sounds inside. For the first time, Shay cursed the bond he’d put between himself and Kelly. If he got into trouble, she couldn’t run for it.

  Culling his magick, he prepared to fire, bullets or energy.

  His senses tingled as he crept inside. Light from a small lamp burned from a back room. Making no noise, he stole through the room and saw an abandoned red backpack on the floor.

  Soft, snuffling sounds, like crying. Shay’s guts kicked. Couldn’t stand hearing a child in distress. Poor kid. He advanced slowly.

  Checking the corner, he saw the little boy sitting at a table. Cradling his head in his arms, he sobbed loudly. Shay’s throat closed tight. The kid had the same vulnerable air as his little brother.

  Then he raised his head, tears streaking his grimy face.

  “It’s okay,” Shay soothed, lowering his sidearm. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Oliver. I escaped when they weren’t looking. I’m so scared. Please don’t shoot me!” the boy beseeched. “The bad men pointed a gun at me.”

  Shay checked the room and sensed no danger. He set the gun on the floor and stepped inside.

  Heavy chains fell upon him. Burning pain like acid. This wasn’t a Phantom child in trouble, and he’d walked directly into a trap.

  Chapter 14

  The silver stung his eyes and ate into his clothing, searing his flesh. Shay instinctively put his hands in front of his face to shield his eyes, holding the chains away.

  “It hurts,” the little boy said in a singsongy voice. “But the hurt goes away after a minute. I know because I tested it on myself.”

  The pain eased and Shay opened his eyes. The child shape-shifted in an eye blink. Into himself.

  With all his might, Shay fought the chains.

  “It’s about time you arrived. For a navy SEAL, you sure are slow.” His twin gave a cocky grin.