Dirty Magic

by Jaye Wells

  I saw red. Hot, bloody red. If I’d been able to burn him alive with my eyes, I would have charred him to the bone. “I’m going to kill you.”

  “Not if I kill you first,” he sing-songed.

  “How do you think you’re going to pull that off?” John asked. “The minute they find our bodies they’ll know it was you.”

  “That’s right,” I said quickly. “You think the cops circled the wagons after you hurt Danny? Wait until you see what they do after you murder a cop.”

  Bane snorted. “Methinks the city will be more torn up to lose the mayor’s new toy. Tell me, John, is it true Owens is a power bottom?”

  I glanced up and saw John’s face had hardened into a bored expression, but his eyes glowed with heat.

  “All right,” Bane continued, “I can respect that you don’t want to kiss ass and tell. Regardless, you’re more valuable than Prospero to this town.”

  A scornful laugh escaped Volos. “And you’re nothing more than a tunnel rat. You’ll die in the gutter where you belong.”

  “Careful,” Hanson warned, stepping forward. “You might be good at magic, but you’re not immune to lead poisoning.”

  “Back off, you fucking traitor!” I yelled.

  His gun swiveled in my direction. He didn’t look angry or as if he anticipated making me bleed. Instead, he almost appeared resigned.

  Bane clicked his tongue. “Oh, Katherine. Why the harsh language? Poor Michael here is as much a pawn in this game as you, I’m afraid.”

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Go ahead,” Bane said with an indulgent smile. “Tell her.”

  Hanson’s jaw tightened. “He got some … pictures that he’s going to send to Eldritch if I don’t help him.”

  I tilted my head. “What kind of pictures?”

  Bane giggled. “Poor Michael has a taste for magical pussy, don’t you, Mikey? It was a simple matter of having my dear cousin take a few snapshots during his last visit to her temple.”

  His cousin was Aphrodite Johnson, the leader of the sex magic coven—the Os. Last I’d heard Bane and Aphrodite had been on the outs over some sort of debt she owed him. Probably he had used that to convince her to help him with Hanson, too.

  “You asshole,” I said. “Why not just kill him?” I stabbed a finger in Bane’s direction.

  Hanson’s face morphed into an offended mask. “I’m not a murderer, Prospero.”

  My mouth fell open. “What the fuck do you think he’s planning to do to us?”

  “Oh, I’m not going to kill you.” Bane paused and let that sink in. Let that spark of hope grab a little oxygen and flare before he stomped it out. “John is.”

  Something cold exploded in my heart. It felt a lot like fear. My brain scrambled, looking for angles and escape routes.

  “Why would I do that?” Volos sounded a lot less freaked-out than I felt. But then he moved a fraction closer. I wasn’t sure whether the move was designed to reassure me—or him.

  Bane shrugged. “Because once I dose you with Gray Wolf you won’t be able to stop yourself from tasting her tender flesh.”

  All the blood drained from my face. Even the marrow in my bones felt cold.

  “Oh no,” Bane said with a giggle. “You both look so upset. Does this mean you’re fucking again?”

  Over the years, I’d had perps say all sorts of things to try to distract and unsettle me. Bane had just misfired by a long shot. I shook off the specter of John’s getting potioned and focused on getting us both out of there before it could happen. “Yeah. We’re fucking.” My tone was flat and dry as an Arizona highway. “You figured us out.”

  Volos cleared his throat. “Might I suggest we come to some sort of compromise?”

  Bane and I both looked at him. John’s posture was casual and his tone was formal, but the steel in his eyes made him look every inch a man capable of wreaking revenge of biblical proportions. If I hadn’t wanted to kill Bane so much myself, I would have felt bad for him.

  “No compromises,” Bane said.

  Bane raised his gun as casually as a man checking the time. With dawning horror, I watched him squeeze the trigger. An instant later, the bullet punched a large, red hole in the center of Michael Hanson’s chest.

  The cop’s eyes widened in surprise. The betrayal had only just begun to register on his face when blood seeped from his lips. And then, just as quickly, the light dimmed in his traitor’s eyes. His body collapsed into the steel worktable. Glass beakers shattered across the floor along with his blood.

  Regardless of whether Hanson was coerced or aiding Bane willingly, watching a fellow cop get murdered so easily, so coldly by that psychopath made my blood run icy-hot. Suddenly it felt a lot less as if we’d make it out of there alive.

  “Now, where were we?” Bane asked, his tone bored. “Oh yes. I was going to start the game.” He moved, as if to get the Gray Wolf from a pocket.

  “Why did Abe get involved in this?” John asked quickly, desperately.

  Bane looked up with a slow smile. “Simple: He wanted revenge.”

  “Why?” We needed to keep him talking. I shifted ever so slowly toward my right, hoping maybe I could reach some sort of makeshift weapon from the supplies.

  “If he hadn’t testified against Abe, then none of this would have happened.” Bane pointed the gun at Volos. “You should have kept your fucking mouth shut.”

  My eyes jerked toward John. He looked resigned. “So trying to frame John was Abe’s idea?” I asked.

  “No! I went to him once this asshole announced plans to take over my turf.” Bane was panting with anger now. “Abe made the potion, sure, but it was my idea. I was finally going to earn the markers to take over the Cauldron. Just had to take Volos out of the picture.”

  “How did Danny figure into this?” I asked, my voice hard and low.

  “Payback for arresting Hieronymus and blackmailing him into betraying his daddy.” Bane shrugged. “Plus I needed to get you out of the game. Figured the kid would either kill you or you’d just walk away. But as usual you were too stubborn to know what was good for you.”

  “Jesus, Bane.” I pushed aside the baiting words as it all clicked together. Bane had failed to take out Volos. He’d failed to hold onto his turf in the Cauldron. And he’d gone after Danny—Abe’s own blood—to try to fix his fuckups. “Do you have any idea what Abe’s going to do to you once he finds out you screwed up everything? You won’t survive a day in Crowley.”

  I hated Bane more than anyone, but the threat of Abraxas’s vengeance was enough to make me pity him. Failure not only wasn’t an option—it was a crime punishable by extreme pain and a slow death.

  “I won’t be going to Crowley.” He sounded so sure of himself. And that’s when it hit me: Bane was screwed only if this last-ditch effort didn’t work. Abe might be pissed the original plan failed, but if Bane could pull off a scheme to make Volos hit the evening news as a werewolf cop-killer, well, even Abe couldn’t stay mad too long. Especially if the cameras just happened to catch the BPD shooting Volos dead. “Abe won’t be able to stay mad at me. Especially when he finds I took out Volos and his traitor niece.”

  I frowned. “Abe gave me his blessing when I left.”

  “He figured you’d come running back for help, but then you had to go and become a fucking cop.” He shook his head, as if he was cursing his dumb luck. “When I found out that asshole MEA snitch attacked you, I tried to clear you so you’d stay away from the case. But then you had to go and get yourself assigned to the task force. Always sticking your nose where it’s not wanted. And you!” Bane stared at Volos with wild eyes. “The Sangs should have ruled the Cauldron after Abraxas went to prison. Instead, you decided to get in bed with the government and steal our corners and tunnels from us.” He pulled a second gun out of his rear waistband with his left hand.

  Hearing Bane admit his motives out loud made me sick to my stomach. All of this—all the dead bodies, the violence, Danny’s coma—had been ov
er a stupid dirt lot and personal vendetta.

  My eyes zeroed in on the weapon in his hand. From a distance it appeared to be a typical semiautomatic. But closer, I realized it was a modified tranquilizer gun.

  The next minute of my life passed in both fast-forward and slow motion at once.

  Bane fell into a crouch. The gun swiveled toward Volos. A loud pop sounded. A red blur zoomed through the air. Volos jerked backward, his hand coming up to his throat. He slammed into the table, flipped backward over it, and landed with a loud crack that sounded suspiciously like skull against concrete.

  I yelped and started forward, but from the corner of my eye I saw movement from Bane as he reached for a Mundane gun. Instinct drove me to tuck and roll. The gun barked. Searing pain in my right calf. My ribs slammed into the floor with blunt force. The momentum pushed me out of the line of fire and behind the overturned table.

  Volos lay maybe eight feet away. His face was alarmingly pale and sweat plastered his shirt to his chest. His breaths came in shallow pants and the veins in his neck were pulsing rapidly.

  I grabbed the salt flare from my ankle holster. Breathing heavily, I cursed myself for not bringing more Mundane firepower.

  “Kate,” Volos rasped. I looked over in time to see a small pistol glide across the floor toward me. In a smooth movement, I grabbed it and swiveled upward to deliver two shots. Then I fell behind an overturned table. I quickly stashed the salt flare back in the ankle holster and checked the ammo in the pistol. Just a couple of bullets left. I sent one in Bane’s direction.

  A satisfying yelp sounded from across the room. “Fucking bitch!”

  Judging from the echoing sound of scrambling footsteps, he’d retreated back to the factory floor. Probably he’d want to find a nice hiding spot from which to watch the hunt once John turned.

  Sucking down my fear, I surged up and ran full tilt toward the archway. My breath rasped in and out of my sandpaper lungs. My heart churned to keep the blood pumping through my taxed veins. With my back to the wall, I crouched down and went left—away from the large holes I’d seen earlier. I tried to get my adrenaline under control as I moved. Cool heads saved more lives than hot firearms.

  There was no doubt in my mind that the tranq dart was filled with Gray Wolf. That meant I had only a few moments before Volos hulked out with a serious case of bloodlust.

  From the corner of my ear, I heard a sound. Bane. Judging from the small whimper, I’d clipped him somewhere painful. But not painful enough. No amount of pain would be enough for that bastard now.

  A wet noise, like gagging. “Kate,” John groaned thickly. “Run!”

  Oh shit. Fear rippled across my skin.

  Before I could react, though, Volos’s warning was followed by a low, guttural moan.

  Lightning zinged through my limbs. My muscles yearned to run, but Bane still had a gun somewhere in the dark. The best I could do for the moment was take shelter behind a low, crumbling wall. Shit, Kate, think!

  First things first—backup.

  I pulled off the amulet and looked at the little bubble on the front. The iridescent, green liquid sparkled dully in the dark.

  I hesitated. I’d gone without using magic for a decade, but now, because of my involvement in the MEA, I was knee-deep in it. What the hell had this case done to my convictions?

  A growl echoed, closer now, making my spine crackle with fear. Volos wouldn’t stop until he consumed me, and even if I managed to escape him, Bane wanted my blood, too. I put a lot of faith in my wits and my gun, but I wasn’t a fucking idiot.

  I cracked the vial and lifted it to my lips. All the while, I promised myself that if I survived that night, I’d go back to never touching the stuff again. The liquid tasted bitter on my tongue and the texture was effervescent like those rock candies kids loved. The amulet didn’t light up. No sirens sounded. No immediate sign at all that the bat signal even worked. Morales had said they were going to be on Bane’s tail that night. Obviously he’d given them the slip. Had they closed up for the night? Was anyone even monitoring the alert system? “Please work,” I whispered.

  “Kate,” Bane taunted. The echoes made distances hard to determine, but I guessed he was probably about halfway through the room, hauled up behind the old crates. “Can’t you imagine the newspaper headline: ‘Cop Killed By Wizard Ex-Lover’? The reporters at the Babylon Register are going to cum all over themselves.” His giggle echoed through the space, making hairs stand on the back of my neck. “Better run before the potion does its work.”

  He was referring to Volos, but the one I’d just ingested was working, too. Already the pain in my injured leg was less severe. My breathing calmed and I felt a kick of energy as the potion heightened my stamina.

  Another bullet whizzed by. Too close. I scooted back along the wall to see if I could get a bead on Volos’s location. But where he’d been before, I saw nothing but tile floor and a pile of green sick.

  I looked out across the factory floor and froze. A hulking shadow was moving away from me.

  On one hand, I should have felt relieved that I was not his first target. On the other, I now had both a psychotic wizard and a werewolf between me and freedom.

  My heart sprinted in my chest. Shit, shit, shit. I had to figure out how to get out of the place with the antipotion so I could save Danny.

  Time to think. Obviously I had two choices. The first involved my waiting for the team to respond and hoping they arrived before Volos found me or I ran out of ammo.

  Second option: I could try to lead Volos toward Bane and let the beast rid the Cauldron of a major criminal element.

  Another option hit me like a bolt of lightning to the synapses.

  I could finish the antipotion. Short of putting a bullet in John’s brain, finishing the cure was the only way to ensure we both made it out alive.

  A feral roar came from within the labyrinth of garbage on the brew floor. I couldn’t pinpoint where he was exactly, but I had a bad feeling he knew exactly where I was. The blood trail from my calf wound alone would be like a beacon to his predatory instincts.

  “It’s too bad it had to come to this, Katherine!” Bane yelled, his tone bordering on hysterical. Where the hell was he hiding that he felt confident enough to yell?

  I rose into a crouch and started making my way toward the lab. If I could lock myself inside, maybe I could survive long enough to finish the antipotion. Or for backup to arrive.

  A loud crash exploded from the darkness. I twisted around and fell on my ass with a gun pointed toward that direction. When no buck-toothed monsters emerged from the shadowed trash piles, I rose and ran toward the lab. My harsh breaths worked my ribs painfully and my heartbeat pounded in my head.

  “Where are you going, Katherine?” Bane giggled nervously.

  I was only half listening because I had bigger problems. If the terrifying noises behind me were anything to go by, my movements had earned me the attention of a very large, pissed off, and hungry Volos. Adrenaline and Mez’s speed potion made my movements fast but imprecise.

  I slammed the large door and my fingers fumbled with the bolts. I’d finally slid one home when a very heavy body slammed against the panel. Claws scraped wood. Rage-filled howls promised pain. The next bolt closed more easily. For good measure, I took advantage of the added strength I’d gained from Mez’s potion and adrenaline to shove a large filing cabinet in place as well.

  Satisfied I’d done all I could to barricade the door, I ran across the room to the furnace. Using my shirtsleeve, I flipped the latch to open it. Searing heat slammed into my skin. Squinting into the red-hot mouth, I tried to see if the green vitriol was ready. “Shit.” I couldn’t see anything.

  Wasting precious seconds, I scrambled to find an insulated mitt among the shards of glass and overturned tables and stools. While I slid it on my left hand, the banging continued at the door. The snarls of an angry werewolf crept into my head and haunted the parts of my brain responsible for remaining calm. My
boots slid on broken glass as I struggled back to the furnace.

  Even with the mitt, the heat permeated the material and made my palm sweat. Or maybe that was nerves. Either way, carrying the vessel back to the counter was an uneasy feat.

  The crack of splintering wood lit a new fire under my ass. I removed the vial of John’s test antipotion from my sleeve and set it in a bracket. The green vitriol had burned into a white ash, as I’d hoped. But the tricky part was still to come, and judging from the creaks and groans that door was giving I didn’t have near enough time.

  I poured the ash into a mortar and gave it a very quick grind to ensure all the crystals had pulverized. Luckily, the chaos earlier hadn’t harmed any of the cabinets, so it only took a couple of seconds to find a brown bottle labeled SULFUR.

  People always think sulfur smells like rotten eggs in any form, but that’s not true. Heated sulfur releases chemical compounds that stink like rotten eggs and gunpowder residue, but not the pure form. I didn’t have time to heat the sulfur correctly, so I poured it in the still-smoking pot I’d pulled from the furnace along with the calcined vitriol. The container wasn’t hot enough to melt the crystalline powder, so I’d need additional heat to activate the magic.

  On top of the sulfur and ash mixture, I poured the rest of the prototype antipotion John had made. I caught my breath as they met and mixed in the pot. This was my best and only chance to save John and Danny.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead and my hands were slippery as I lit a match from the book John had given me earlier. I touched the small flame to the concoction. It caught fire immediately. The melting sulfur turned from yellow to red, giving the mixture a bloody cast. The stink was noxious so I breathed through my mouth—panted, really.

  A loud crack echoed through the room, reaching right into my gut and twisting. Time to make some magic happen.

  Up until now, I’d been doing basic alchemical processes. But now, it was time to bring magic into the mix. By manipulating a substance’s energy, an Adept can take toxic materials and combine them in such a way that they may be ingested to create desired outcomes. If a Mundane mixed a paste of vitriol and sulfur and then tried to ingest it, he’d vomit profusely and probably die. But once magic was in the mix, the melding of compounds and intention morphed the ingredients into something … other.