by Rob Cornell
Next stop, the Ministry’s Detroit office. Time to get all this contract on my head shit straightened out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I made it a block from the casino when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and found the screen cracked, but it was still functioning. The caller’s number didn’t show up on the ID so I almost tapped ignore. Something compelled me to answer, though.
“Hello, Sebastian.”
Anda.
“Glad you called,” I said. “Good news. I’m no longer in danger of turning into a vampire. In fact, I’m headed over to the Ministry to let them know.”
“I don’t care.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Someone wants to talk to you.”
I heard rustling, then Anda’s voice away from the phone say, “Do it.”
The next voice I heard chilled me.
“Don’t let this bitch bully you,” Fiona said. “I can take care of myself.”
I had to pull to the curb in case I ripped the steering wheel loose from the column. I gripped the phone so tightly, I imagined I could hear more cracks form across the screen. “Where are you?”
Before she could answer, Anda took the phone back. “This is it, Sebastian. Time to settle this.”
“I just told you, I’m not a fucking vampire. You can’t do this.”
“The contract is still good,” she said.
“Not if I go to the Ministry, it won’t be.”
“How long will that take? Long enough for something…sad…to happen to your girlfriend?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m sick of you. Sick of your arrogance. Sick of you leaving nothing but scraps for the rest of us hunters to survive on. Sick of your smug face I see in my nightmares every night.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m not the only one you’ve pissed off. We’re all in agreement. You have to go.”
I thought about explaining everything, telling her I didn’t have as much power as I used to, that the competition would probably level off because of it. But I knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Anda had decided I needed to die in order for her to live. So it was best I not give her the intel about my recent magical downgrade and let her think I had as much juice as always.
“Do you really think I’m going to just let you kill me?”
“Let me worry about the details,” she said. “You get your ass to the Silverdome. No stops.”
I started to argue, but the connection went dead.
I threw the phone at the dashboard, not giving a damn how much more I broke it. A piece of plastic flew one way and the phone bounced off the dash and out of sight to the floorboards on the passenger side. The air crackled with the magical energy my extreme emotions evoked. I might not have had it all anymore, but I still had some. And I would use every last bit to put Anda down for this.
I pulled a U-turn and headed for the Pontiac Silverdome.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I found Fiona in the center of what used to be the football field where the Detroit Lions played. The dome that gave the stadium its name had long since collapsed, exposing the field to the elements. Only shreds of Astroturf remained around the edges, the rest eroded away from years of rain and flooding. A mossy smell hung in the air. Weeds choked nearly every available crack. Shreds of the dome dangled from the collapsed frame like flags of surrender.
The over sixty-thousand empty seats around the field seemed to magnify the abandoned vibe of the place.
Fiona sat on a metal chair, bound and gagged. Even with the fifty yards between us, I could see a mix of fury and fear in her eyes. She was the only sign of life, but plenty of shadows hung under the second tier of seats for Anda to hide in.
“Anda,” I called out. My voice echoed across the stadium.
A shot rang out, and a chunk of ground two feet in front of me exploded.
I jumped back, then instinctively hardened the air around me into a shield.
A second shot cracked the air. The round sparked against my shield.
I scanned the stadium in the general direction of the gunfire. I spotted the shooter crouched behind the metal railing on the edge of the second tier to my right, eye to the scope on his rifle, which he had balanced on the railing. I couldn’t make out who it was, but I knew it wasn’t Anda. She didn’t favor firearms.
So she had apparently invited a friend.
I remembered what she had said on the phone about others not so happy with my dominance in Detroit’s demon hunting racket. Had she tipped them off to my coming here? I had to admit, I was surprised. I thought she would want the pleasure of killing me herself. Turned out she was more practical than that.
The sniper took another shot, which ricocheted off my shield same as the last one.
I focused my power and reached my hand out. Manipulating the air to mimic the movement of my hand, I curled my fingers as if taking hold of the railing the shooter leaned on, then yanked toward me. The railing tore loose, and the sniper tumbled forward. He dropped to the seats below with a sickening crunch and lay there, limbs splayed, unmoving.
As if spurred by the sniper’s failure, more gunfire erupted from my left. The Dalton brothers had popped up from behind a row of seats on the main floor. Each of them carried Uzis, which they gleefully unloaded in my direction.
I strengthened my shield, but the steady fire quickly tired me. I was already inching toward my new lower limit. I couldn’t waste energy standing out in the open like that. I backed into the wide mouth of the entryway to the field where, once upon a time, the Lions ran out to play ball.
I dropped my shield once the brothers were out of sight, but they kept on firing as if they could shoot through the concrete wall protecting me.
Idiots.
Their weapons quickly ran dry.
I used the break to step back out, forming a ball of flame in each hand. The fireworks would drain my power more quickly than manipulating the air, but it also had a better chance of making quick work of the boys. I threw the fire at them with as much force as I could muster in order to clear the thirty or so yards between us as quickly as possible.
The brothers had dropped the Uzis and had started down steps toward the field with handguns drawn. They seemed surprised by the flames coming their way, as if they had forgotten they were dealing with a sorcerer. They froze in place, and the fireballs hit them square, sending them flying backwards, their clothes and hair in flames.
They screamed, but not for long. It didn’t take long for magical fire to burn through mortal flesh.
I stood in awe for a moment as the weight of what I had just done sunk in. I had burned the Dalton brothers to cinders. Just like that. Granted, in self-defense. Still, I executed monsters, not mortals. Especially not mortals I knew personally.
And don’t forget the sniper. He probably didn’t survive that fall, killer.
I clenched my fists. Anda had set a hell of a trap. Not just for me, but for the rest of her competition as well. She was banking on my taking down some of them in the process. Which meant there were probably more.
I no sooner thought it when I heard something crack the air behind me.
For an instant, I thought it was another gunshot. I threw up a shield and spun toward the sound. I found Sudi Bakaikoa standing in the entryway, not armed with a gun, but rather a fucking bull whip.
I didn’t know Sudi personally, just by reputation. And honestly, it was his enchanted whip I had heard about more than anything about him. He was almost as skinny as his whip, and dressed in tight black leather that made me think of either Cat Woman or the Gimp from Pulp Fiction, only without the creepy mask with the zippered mouth hole.
He grinned with pointed yellow teeth. A few of his dreadlocks hung down the front of his dark face.
“Looks like Anda had it wrong, heh?” he said. “You do still have ya power.”
So Anda had been telling stories. No wonder the Daltons had
come at me head on like bigger idiots than usual.
“I sure do,” I said. “So you might want to back off.”
“Nah.” He thrashed out his whip.
I clenched down to tighten my shield, but the whip passed right through it and wrapped around my neck. I felt the whip squeeze tighter, like a living thing, cutting off my windpipe. I didn’t know how the whip passed through my shield and didn’t have time to worry about it. I drew up another fireball and whipped it—pun intended—at Sudi.
He anticipated the attack. He ducked the fireball then gave his whip a hefty tug, pulling me off my feet. He had a lot of strength for such a skinny guy.
I flopped forward. My face splashed in a puddle of stagnant water left behind by a long ago rain. Some got in my mouth and tasted rank.
The whip tightened some more. My face swelled as the whip cut off my blood flow. A few more seconds and I would pass out. I couldn’t rely on finesse. I had to unleash something big or die.
I pulled a combination of elements, air and fire, together, giving my fire bolts not only heat but heft. I threw them toward the top of the entryway right above Sudi’s head. The concrete exploded as if hit with a rocket launcher. Chunks crumbled downward as the entrance caved in and buried him underneath.
He screamed as he was crushed, then went quickly silent.
Which was all well and good. But while the last pebbles of the ruined entryway rained down, the whip around my neck tightened even more. It had a mind of its own, apparently, and didn’t need its master to finish the job of killing me.
I tried to wedge my fingers between the loop and my throat without any success.
Everything started to go dark.
I grabbed the length of the whip and pulled. It held firm, its one end trapped under the pile of broken concrete from the cave in.
What a terrible way to go. Detroit sorcerer strangled by sentient whip. If I hadn’t been so occupied with dying, the thought would have depressed me.
Before I passed out, I pooled every drop of power that remained inside of me—or at least the power I still had access to—and directed it into my hands. I squeezed the whip as if it were a rope and my life depended on hanging on. Which it did, I guess. But I didn’t want this rope to hold tight. I wanted it to break.
I charged my hands with blue flame, as hot as I could make it. I didn’t know what the whip was made of. I had no doubt it was strong. But everything had a burning point, a temperature it could not withstand. I would test the limits of this thing until I had nothing more to give.
Suddenly, the whip bucked in my grip. Then twisted and squirmed. I was reaching its limit. Impossibly, I heard the whip screech. It unraveled from my neck, allowing a gush of beautiful air into my lungs. It hurt to breathe, but I didn’t let that stop me from gasping in more and more air.
While the whip had released me, I didn’t dare return the favor. I couldn’t chance allowing it to grab me again before I could clear its reach. Besides, I had committed the last of my available energy to generating this extreme heat. I didn’t want to let it go to waste.
The whip writhed and thrashed. I hung on. Eventually, I felt whatever material it was made out of soften until it turned to the consistency of putty. Then I yanked on that fucker.
The whip snapped in half.
Another screech cut the air. I had to wonder if this thing had a mouth on it somewhere to make such a piercing sound, and decided I’d rather not know.
All at once, the half of the whip in my hands went limp. The other half pinned under the rubble gave a few more thrashes before also falling still. Both ends where the whip used to be joined glowed and smoldered like the tips of a pair of cigars. The flames around my hands died. I tossed my half of the whip away from me as if it might strike again. I wasn’t taking any chances.
My body ached. My muscles were loose and weak. It took some effort to get to my feet, but I managed. My neck felt swollen and my throat burned. I turned toward the field to check on Fiona.
She still sat bound to the chair.
Only now Anda stood beside her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Wow,” Anda said. She stood with her hip cocked, her crossbow held down at her side. She wore a pair of black jeans and a matching halter, with a spiked choker around her neck. “I’ve never seen you look so pathetic before.”
I cleared my throat. I felt like I’d swallowed glass. “You’ve got balls, Anda. I’ll give you that.” I shuffled toward her. Shuffling was the best I could do at the moment.
When I reached the ten-yard line, Anda raised her crossbow. She didn’t, however, aim it at me. She pointed it at Fiona.
I froze. “Let her go.”
“I will,” she said. “Once you’re dead.”
“What is your problem? You’re pissed because I’m a better hunter than you? That really what all of this is about?”
“Keep walking this way,” she said. “Slowly.”
I complied. Slowly.
“I told you I’m not a vampire.” I held my arms out as the afternoon sun blazed down through the shredded remains of the dome. “Obviously.”
“And I told you I don’t care.”
“When the Ministry finds out what you pulled here, you think they’re still going to give you contracts?”
She looked at me as if I spoke Klingon. “What I pulled? You murdered four of Detroit’s best hunters while they tried to collect on a perfectly legit contract. I think they’ll be plenty happy when I bring back your remains.”
My remains. A spark of hope lit in me. “I won’t turn to dust like a vamp,” I said. “They’ll know you killed a mortal.”
“An innocent mistake,” she said and shrugged. “Contract was still valid. How was I to know you hadn’t turned?”
“Because I’m standing in the fucking sunlight you bitch!”
She curled her lip. “Keep walking.”
I hadn’t realized I had stopped. I stood the equivalent of three first-downs from her and Fiona now. Thirty measly yards. If I could work up one last fireball, if I could aim it just right, I could take Anda down. But not while she still had her crossbow aimed at Fiona. I couldn’t risk Anda jerking the trigger.
Meanwhile, Fiona stared at me, her expression unreadable. She didn’t look nearly as afraid as I would have been if our roles were reversed. In fact, she looked rather calm.
I continued forward, my footsteps crunching in the grit left behind after the Astroturf had disintegrated from exposure to the elements. The hot, wet air made it feel like a greenhouse in there instead of a football stadium. It smelled like one, too.
“You’re really going to do this?” I asked. “Kill an innocent man over a few lost bounties?”
Her dark eyes went wide. “A few bounties? Those bounties mean the difference between feeding my children something healthy before sending them off in the morning, or forcing them to eat the free crap they call a breakfast at the school.”
Have to admit, that took me by surprise. I could not, for the life of me, picture Anda as a mother. “Bullshit. You don’t have any kids.”
She bared her teeth. “You might not care about anybody but yourself, that doesn’t mean the rest of us are self-absorbed dicks.”
Man, this bitch had nerve. I clenched a fist. “I have a family,” I shouted. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
She raised her crossbow and trained it on me. “Shut up and keep walking!”
My chance presented itself. I took a deep breath and poked around inside my soul for one last scrap of power. I thought I could feel it there. Enough for a single fire bolt. Certainly not anymore. But Anda still stood so close to Fiona. The chances of Fiona getting caught in the flames were too great.
I held off.
And started walking again.
An odd flicker drew my attention to Fiona. I almost tripped on my own feet when I saw the orange and black stripped fur across her face. Then her features wavered like a disturbed puddle and she looked ful
ly human again. She gave me a pointed stare and I realized why she had appeared so calm. Apparently, Anda did not know Fiona was a shifter, and Fiona had been biding her time, waiting for the right moment to spring the news.
Literally.
I smirked.
“This is funny to you?” Anda snarled. She straightened her arm and steadied her aim with the crossbow. I was within twenty yards of her now. I had little doubt she could put an arrow through my eye from that distance. Easy.
I lost the smirk. “No,” I said and stopped walking. “It’s pretty fucked up. And I’m done. You want to get any closer, you’re going to have to come to me.”
“I don’t need you any closer to kill you.”
“Then do it.”
She took the bait and stepped forward, just enough so that she stood in front of Fiona.
Watching a bound and gagged woman shift into a tiger and break through those bonds was something to behold. The ropes around her audibly snapped as her growing bulk stretched them beyond their limits. The gag ripped apart against her growing teeth. She kicked away the chair with her hind legs. The full shift took a matter of seconds.
Anda had enough time to glance over her shoulder to see what was going on.
Fiona pounced.
Anda cried out, twisted, got the crossbow between them.
Fiona, in full tiger form, hit Anda with her massive front paws, driving her to the ground with a roar that echoed throughout the stadium. She landed on top of Anda, pinning her with her tiger claws in Anda’s shoulders. Fiona opened her jaw wide, as if she meant to bite into Anda’s face.
I held out a hand. “Fiona, don’t. She’s down. We don’t need to kill her.”
Much as it pained me to admit.
Fiona, mouth still wide, looked up at me.
I heard a muffled snick sound.
Fiona’s tigress eyes went wide. Just as I realized what the sound meant, Fiona cried out and leapt away from Anda.
An arrow stuck out of Fiona’s flank.
