Black Market
Black Records Book 2
Mark Feenstra
Contents
Books in the Black Records Series
Free Book Offer
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Afterword
The New Black
Acknowledgments
About the Author
© 2017 Mark Feenstra
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, businesses, places, events,
and incidents are either the products of the
author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead ,
or actual events is purely coincidental.
First Digital Edition, 2017
ISBN 978-0-9948589-2-4
www.MarkFeenstra.com
Books in the Black Records Series
Out Now:
BLACK MAGIC
BLACK MARKET
Forthcoming:
BLACK ICE
BLACK & TAN
BLACK ARTS
Want to shed light on Alex’s dark past?
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For my Mom
This space is too small
to list all the reasons.
Chapter One
The cast iron skillet flew towards me with such force it left a head sized crater in the stainless steel door of the fridge after I ducked it at the last second. Pushing off the fridge, I ran two steps then slid across the kitchen floor like a runner on her way to home base. The restriction spell I lashed out with while still in motion failed to hit the imp we’d been hired to capture and remove from the house. Instead, it had locked onto blender that was now about the only thing the imp couldn’t pick up and toss at us.
“It’s too fast,” I yelled at Chase as I hopped to my feet and backed away. “The damn thing dodges every spell I throw at it.”
Chase peered at me from around the side of the overturned wooden butcher’s block. “If we don’t figure out how to catch it soon, the cost of damages is going to outweigh our fee for this job.”
Light flashed on something metallic hurtling through the air towards me. Thankfully my survival instinct stepped in while the rest of my brain tried to come to terms with the fact that I was about to be skewered between the eyes with a chef’s knife. Without a conscious thought, I sent out just enough energy to deflect the blade sideways at the last possible second. I heard it chunk into the wall behind me, but I didn’t dare turn to see where it had landed. If the imp had been mildly agitated when we’d arrived, it was now fully pissed off. The house’s owners had made the smart decision to vacate the premises before calling us, so now Chase and I were the only ones around for the hellish little creature to take its anger out on.
Chase poked his head up and scanned the kitchen. “Why is this thing such an asshole?”
“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so,’ but I did warn you that imps became ultra-violent when cornered, didn’t I?”
“The photos in that old book made them look so adorable,” said Chase. “I thought you were just trying to mess with me.”
The sound of something heavy scraping along the tile floor made me swivel my head towards the stove. I stood there like an idiot, watching the five hundred pound stainless steel gas range float up into the air a few inches. It hovered unsteadily a moment, then the imp launched it at my face.
Rather than waste my energy trying to block it with a spell, I jumped towards Chase. Pain radiated through my shoulder when I failed in my attempt to land in a tuck and roll behind cover. Though not half as graceful as I’d pictured the move in my head, it had been enough to get me out of the way of the airborne stove. A stove that now sat in the middle of the next room over, barely visible through a haze of drywall dust from the gaping hole it had left in the wall.
“Do you smell that?” I asked Chase.
He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose a little. “Is that gas?”
The imp must have torn the gas connection free when it had hurled it at me, and now the open line was spewing natural gas into the room. The risk of passing out from gas inhalation was bad enough. More concerning at the moment was the immediate danger that a single stray spark could trigger a fireball that would destroy the house and everything in it. With the amount of flying metal objects we’d been dealing with over the last hour, that likelihood was far greater than I was willing to chance.
“We need a plan,” I said. “If we don’t lock this fucker down fast, we’re all dead.”
Chase cupped his hand over his nose and mouth, muffling his words when he spoke. “Alex, I don’t feel so good about this. Maybe I should wait outside.”
“Nuh uh. One of us has to shut down that gas line.”
“Is it you?” he said, scrunching lower as something about the weight of a four slice bagel toaster banged into other side of our makeshift barricade. “Tell me you’re not asking me to go out there.”
“Fine,” I growled. “I’ll go shut off the valve while you distract the imp.”
“Or, I could shut my mouth and go turn off the gas like you asked, leaving you free to do your magic thing.”
Rather than spare even a second to roll my eyes, I reached out from behind the table and snatched a dish towel from a pile on the floor. Casting about for a source of liquid, I spotted a case of mineral water in a corner of the kitchen that had somehow escaped the imp’s destructive rampage. A simple levitation spell was enough to yank the entire case towards us. I then uncapped one of the bottles and thoroughly doused the cloth with water.
“Put this over your face and go,” I said, throwing the cloth at Chase.
He fumbled for it before finally grabbing hold and pressing it over his mouth and nose. His eyes were full of fear and doubt when he stared at me, waiting intently for my signal. I hoped he’d spent enough time with me to trust that when I said ‘go,’ he’d better fucking go.
Taking a bottle of mineral water in each hand, I shuffled around to get myself into a crouch. My thigh and back muscles complained from being forced into such a low tuck, but it was the only way to keep my head low enough to be out of the flight path of any incoming objects. Once in position, I closed my eyes and took a second to visualize the spell I was about to cast. We didn’t have a lot of time left, and I already felt dizziness from the gas fumes fogging my thinking. All the more reason to make sure I did this right the first time. You know, a stitch in time and all that.
“Go!”
Not waiting to see if Chase
had followed my order, I stood up and hurled the two glass bottles towards the ceiling. In the precise second they smashed with a dull pop and a cascade of fizzy water, I cast kinetic energy in an outward arc. The blast caught fragments of falling glass, sending them racing towards the imp’s hiding place in a barrage of glittery shrapnel.
Mineral water rained down on the floor. I watched in horror as Chase slipped and slid just steps away from the gas shutoff valve. He slammed hard on his ass, his head making contact with the tile floor. He’d whacked his skull hard enough to make me wonder if he had cartoon bluebirds circling his head, but he somehow managed to recover almost immediately. Fluidly turning an awkward stomach crunch into a sort of flopping roll maneuver, he pivoted onto his knees and lunged for the yellow plastic valve that would kill the flow of gas still pumping into the room.
The crunching tinkle of tiny feet walking across glass debris that littered the countertops jerked my attention back to the business of the imp. I conjured a light protective shield around Chase just as the imp poked his head out from behind the microwave to launch a dozen steak knives towards my partner. The knives bounced harmlessly off my energy shield, and Chase scrambled back to his feet. Impressively, he managed to keep the damp cloth pressed tightly to his face while he scurried behind cover once more.
“That was awesome,” I said, punching him on the arm. “Nice recovery.”
“Tell that to my tailbone and the lump on the back of my head.”
Once again, I peeked out from behind cover to survey the damage. The kitchen counter had been completely denuded of everything but the microwave that now hid the imp from view. Upon arriving at the house, I’d set up a containment field of wards at every window and door leading into the kitchen. Although hastily created, they were strong enough to prevent the little bugger from escaping before we could catch him. What I hadn’t counted on was a major appliance being used to create a new exit into a neighboring room.
The imp leaned around the side of the microwave, and as plainly as if it had been reading my mind, the leathery-skinned little beast narrowed it’s beady eyes at the only potential avenue of escape.
“Where does it think it’s going to do with that butter knife?” asked Chase.
The answer became dangerously clear when the imp opened the microwave, tossed the knife inside, and set the timer for five minutes.
“Run!” I yelled to Chase.
We all moved at the same time.
Seeing only one item in the demolished kitchen that could possibly be of any use, I reached out with my power to summon a jar of pickles lying miraculously un-shattered on the floor in front of the fridge. Wrapping my energy around it like an elastic grappling hook, I flung it towards the opening on an intercept path with the imp.
“Per obscurum ego redimio vos!” I shouted just as the two were about to collide.
The imp slammed directly into the pickle jar. Instead of shattering it or knocking it aside, the little hellspawn phased through the glass to find itself suddenly trapped inside. The force of its body slamming into the pickle jar sent it flying through into the next room and out of my sight, making it impossible for me to snag it with another spell that might break its fall.
I leapt to me feet and raced to the jagged hole in the wall. The jar lay intact, its fall having been broken by a heavy pile rug beneath a metal and glass coffee table. An inch to the left, and the jar would surely have smashed open on the edge of the table. I breathed a sigh of relief and felt my heart rate begin to slow for the first time since arriving at the house.
Then I remembered the microwave and the metal knife sparking away in a room full of gas.
“I got it,” Chase said, appearing at my side. “I hit the cancel button on the microwave. Opened a window to vent the room too.”
Now that he mentioned it, the gas smell had dissipated quite a bit.
“Did you just bind that thing to a pickle jar?” Chase asked.
I shrugged. “They’re normally trapped in crystal or silver orb. I took a gamble that it’d work.”
Chase climbed over the broken section of wall and retrieved the pickle jar. He held it close to his face, peering into the murky liquid within. The imp swam to the side closest to us, beating its tiny fists against the glass while howling in rage at having been bested. The only sound that penetrated the glass was a barely audible sonic squeal and the gentle thud of his pounding on the glass.
“What do you think he’s saying?” asked Chase, tapping back on the glass and enraging the imp even further.
“Probably cursing you and every generation of your offspring,” I said.
Chase swallowed hard and handed me the jar. “Can he, uh, really do that?”
“Relax,” I said. “Imps don’t have that kind of power. Just pray he never gets out of there while you’re still alive. They normally have pretty short memories, but this little guy seems pretty pissed at you for some reason.”
“I’m not the one that trapped him in a pickle jar.”
“Yeah, but you were the first one he saw since you picked him up. Tapping on the glass probably didn’t help either.”
Chase groaned. “Come on, Alex. You can’t just expect me to know these things. This time last year I was living a perfectly happy life of blissful ignorance when it came to magic and the fae. My life consisted of pretty much nothing but playing video games, drinking beer, and not risking my life trying to trap shithead demon spawn that have been terrorizing rich people’s kitchens.”
“Let’s not forget moonlighting as a thief,” I scoffed. That had been a pretty eye-opening discovery for me shortly after confessing my own secret.
“Not the same,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not by a long shot.”
Glass and bits of plastic crunched under my feet when I walked through the kitchen to dismantle the ward I’d placed on the windows and doors. That done, I surveyed the wreckage. The imp had been responsible for most of the damage, and I figured the owners didn’t need to know anything about my involvement in the melting of their sink and faucets. At least Chase had been able to blast the resulting flames with a fire extinguisher before the cabinets had fully burned away.
“The Sandersons are going to be pissed when they get back,” said Chase.
“Anyone who can afford to fly to Barbados after learning they have an imp problem can afford a kitchen reno,” I replied. “Anyways, this was good practice for you. You’re getting a lot better at taking orders.”
Chase rubbed the back of his head where he’d smacked it. “Yeah, about that; is there ever going to be a scenario when I’m not running out into danger while you fling magic at the problem from a safe distance?”
“We talked about this last week and the week before that. When you develop magic powers that allow you to bend mystical forces to your will, you can do the spell flinging. Until then, you’re going to have to do the non-magical jobs when we’re on a case. What did you think you were getting into when you signed up for this?”
“I don’t know,” he pouted. “Sitting at home hacking you into places while you magicked shit like a badass solo operator.”
The hallway leading away from the kitchen was strewn with enough enameled cast iron cookware to make it look like a tornado had ripped through a Le Crueset showroom. An impressive array of spoons had been embedded into the wall after being hurled at us with significant force. I still couldn’t believe that a heavy duty stand mixer had made it all the way down the hall, its metal mixing bowl flattened completely from the impact force.
“I’m not a spy or special agent,” I said to Chase as I yanked open the front door. “This is hands-on work. You don’t have to come with me on cases, but if you are going to come with, you’d best expect to get your hands dirty.”
Once Chase had followed me outside, I closed the door and cast a simple spell to manipulate the tumbler back into the locked position. Not that there was much for anyone to steal if they tried to break in before the Sandersons returned.
All the same, leaving a client’s house unlocked wasn’t exactly professional.
“I’m hungry,” I said as I strolled across the lawn, pickle jar securely lodged under my arm.
“You’re always hungry,” said Chase. “How do you never gain weight?”
“It’s magic!” I proclaimed, throwing my free hand in the air and wiggling it while smiling like an infomercial diet pill model.
Chase rolled his eyes at me and walked past me towards the car.
“But seriously,” I said as I hurried to catch up. “It is the magic. Casting spells kicks my metabolism into overdrive and makes my throat taste like a roll of pennies.”
Once I’d secured the pickle jar by buckling into the back seat, I got up front and reached for the bag of jelly beans I’d stashed in the glove compartment. Every mage experiences different side effects when using magic, and mine was a sour acid tang that clung to the back of my throat for hours after casting even the most basic of spells. Thankfully the aforementioned caloric burn of using that same magic helped negate the effects of the resulting junk food binges I went on after heavy magic work.
“So what’d we bill these guys anyways?” I said around a mouthful of half-masticated jelly beans.
The car coughed and sputtered as Chase keyed the ignition, finally roaring to life with a puff of deadly black smoke from the exhaust. “Probably not enough to cover the damages.”
“Hey, that imp caused those damages,” I said. “And why are you still driving this piece of shit?”
“I don’t like to show off my money, okay?”
Chase’s parents were actual no-exaggeration billionaires. He claimed he hadn’t received a nickel from them since dropping out of college a decade earlier, but neither had he ever worked a day in his life as far as I’d known. That was, until I’d learned about his secret career as a thief. Every dollar he had was one he’d earned stealing jewelry or engaging in high end corporate espionage. I don’t think Chase would believe me if I admitted it, but I think I was twice as shocked to learn that about him as he was when I’d been forced to share the secret that magic was a real thing.
Black Market (Black Records Book 2) Page 1
