Spell Street Swing: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Scions of Magic Book 5)

by TR Cameron

  She shook her head. “No. I know you won’t do that. And you’re right, it wouldn’t get any attention. But you can’t simply turn into a serial killer.”

  He winced at the reference to Cali’s parents, who the detective believed were vigilantes and had committed serious crimes, although he didn’t share her conviction. There’s more to that story, I’m sure of it. He shrugged. “I don’t need to kill anyone to take back what they stole as long as I’m careful about it. Hell, if I’m good enough, I can probably accomplish it without any hubbub at all.”

  Her laughter was a welcome sound. “Hubbub. Sometimes, you seem like someone transported here from a century ago, you know that?”

  “If so, I’m holding up well for my age.” He grinned in mock challenge.

  Kendra raised an eyebrow. “I’d have to see more to be sure. Maybe after you’re done with whatever it is you plan to do you should give me a call.”

  “I’ll do that. Count on it.”

  Tanyith considered calling Karam in to assist but felt a reluctance he decided not to override.

  It’s been a long time, and people change. Perhaps we need a little more opportunity to get to know each other again before we engage in criminal activities together.

  His first stop was Cali’s bunker. He had her permission to be there whenever he felt the need but it continued to strike him as weird any time he was alone there. Like I’m treading on hallowed ground that doesn’t want me here. They’d examined the structure with every magic they could and had found nothing that would instill that feeling. Still, there it was.

  He crossed to the locker that had been Thomas Leblanc’s and removed the black uniform. Once he’d stripped his street clothes off and donned the outfit, he located and affixed the patches to cover the house sigil. He’d decided to leave his Sai at home as they were rare enough to be a clue to his identity.

  Magic and whatever I can find there should be more than enough. The reinforced uniform will give me all the edge I need to deal with these losers.

  To do any preparation at all was mainly a hedge against there being more trouble than he expected to encounter in their home base. If the indications Kendra had found were true, the petty criminals wouldn’t be able to stand up against someone with his skill set. Still, it never hurt to be over-prepared. He pulled the reinforced boots on, laced them tightly, and made sure the pouch containing his thief’s tools was in place. As he took one last look around the room, a thought struck him.

  It’s weird that there are no weapons here. Maybe her parents were really good at magic and didn’t need any, but you’d think they would have had some as a backup plan, at least.

  With a shrug, he dismissed it as a question for a different day.

  His nearest portal location to the target area was in an alley close to the docks, and he stepped through first to his apartment and then to the place near the river. Keeping the existence of the bunker a secret was an overriding priority, more sacred than preventing a bystander from seeing his home through the magical rip in space. A cargo ship was being unloaded nearby, and the shouts of the workers and the creak and hum of machinery echoed all around. He pulled up the map function on his phone and headed toward the location he’d marked.

  The constant need to look up and down to track his progress soon became irritating. What I need is a pair of those augmented reality goggles, like they use in the Army. He snorted. Sure, I’ll break into a military base and get some. Easy-peasy. Kendra would love that.

  Tanyith remained on the shortest route to his destination nonetheless and within minutes, reached the fringe of a small town of seemingly abandoned industrial buildings. A grid of streets separated them, as perfectly uniform as the structures themselves. The only variation was in the names and logos of those who’d been the last to occupy them.

  He took care to hug the structures and remain in the shadows thrown by the overpowered streetlights above. Only one in three still functioned, but that was enough to betray him if he wasn’t careful. It was also enough to discern a thin trail of smoke that emanated from the corner of a rooftop. He shook his head. They really were amateurs.

  At the next street, he moved right to gain distance from the apparent lookout, followed by a left turn to position himself under the darkest place he could see at the next building. He launched himself with force magic and landed four stories above in a quiet crouch.

  Careful to remain as quiet as possible, he crept across the cool black surface until he was opposite the smoker’s position. It was no longer visible, which meant either that the sentry had moved or had finished whatever he’d been smoking. He used the next fifteen minutes to watch quietly for any evidence of a presence from the other building.

  Maybe it wasn’t a lookout at all but someone who snuck up for a drag. In any case, it’s a sign that there are people inside and they’re not very smart.

  Tanyith had taken note of a small structure that covered the stairs in the middle of the roof he was on as he crossed it and knew there would be a similar feature on the one his quarry had selected. He hurtled over the street, landed in a skid on the target building, and spun as he landed to face the position where the smoke had come from. His boots slipped on the tiny rocks at his feet but he regained his balance without mishap. The rooftop was clear.

  If it had been his stronghold, he would have put cameras or alarms or something in place on all accesses. Even though he guessed this group didn’t possess a particularly strategic mindset, it would be foolish to assume they wouldn’t have taken at least some similar precautions.

  I have to move fast but quietly. He found the entrance to the staircase unlocked and opened it as he shook his head. If this really is the group Karam thinks it is, they’re dumber than I remember.

  He descended with care and paused at the door at the bottom, which was locked. His power lockpick made quick work of the barrier, and he returned it to the belt pouch at the small of his back.

  All right, chuckleheads, let’s see what you’re hiding.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The door opened toward him, and he eased it only enough to peer out. It led to a larger stairwell with triple-wide steps, metal railings and protective gates, and concrete surfaces that were likely to echo. He traversed this with extra caution and managed to keep the sound of his intrusion to a minimum. Another door stood at the end. Tanyith pressed his ear to it but heard nothing of significance. He pulled slowly to open it inch by inch so he could explore what lay beyond.

  The company that had once occupied it had apparently bought into the open-office plan. A central block of beige cubicle walls with the only visible walk space on the perimeter greeted him. He stuck his head out to look in the opposite direction and discovered more of the same. To be sure, he stepped through and wandered the entire floor but found no one.

  He descended cautiously to the next level and pressed his ear to the door again. This time, he heard voices beyond, crouched, and drew it open only far enough to risk a look. On this floor, the cubicles had been dismantled and pushed to the far end and a group of four men sat around two L-shaped desks shoved together to create a large table. They held cards carefully away from the others' eyes, and poker chips and bottles of beer littered the surface. Cigarettes were stuck between at least two pairs of lips, so whatever the person on the roof had indulged in, it probably hadn’t been tobacco. The nearest man wore a belt holster on his hip and a pistol butt protruded from it.

  Tanyith took a second to consider his quandary. He’d hoped to infiltrate quietly, find the storage area, and sneak out with the most valuable and portable pieces they’d stolen but not yet sold. That would have been the easiest option and also carried the least risk. To continue with that plan would mean leaving enemies at his tail—which seemed like a bad notion, strategically speaking.

  Especially since at least one of them is armed. He shook his head. While the smart move would be to leave and return another day, his desire to teach them a lesson grew wit
h each stupid word that left their mouths as they played. No, they deserve to get what’s coming to them. I’m the lucky one who is the delivery vehicle.

  His mind made up, he settled in to wait and assumed that at some point, one or more of the men would need to take a break. Sure enough, not too much later, the first man walked toward the back of the space where a restroom sign was affixed to the wall. Tanyith cast a veil to hide himself and followed him in. It was a simple matter to get behind him and apply a chokehold to render him unconscious. As he lowered the thug gently to the floor, he congratulated himself on a strong start. His good feelings about it lasted only a moment before the door opened to reveal another of the card players.

  He cursed inwardly as the cigarette fell from the man’s lips and his hand fumbled for his weapon. His instinctive force bolt hurled his opponent out of the doorway and across the main room. He raced out and angled toward the others, sure that it would take the jerk a few moments to recover.

  Assuming I didn’t kill him. That was a little harder than intended. The first to get his pistol free had it knocked out of his grip with another force bolt, and he did the same with the remaining card player’s gun a moment later. Their shouts were unfortunate but probably wouldn’t carry as far as a gunshot would have.

  Before they could react, he drove his booted heel into the closer adversary’s knee and the surprised man collapsed with a wail. The second managed to draw a butterfly knife and stab at him with it, but the reinforced forearm in the uniform stopped the blade as he blocked it and pushed it upward to expose the man’s ribs. They snapped beneath his sidekick and the injury dropped the thug to his knees.

  Tanyith spun to check on the enemy he’d blasted across the room, who was out cold but fortunately still breathing. He focused on controlling his own breath as he circled the room to collect weapons and cell phones. Phone cords proved useful as a substitute for rope, and he bound two men to one another and the others to nearby hardpoints.

  With that finished, he stashed the guns and phones in a trash bin and headed down to the second floor. A single glance through the slightly open door revealed the items he’d hoped to find. The cubicles had been cleared but the desks remained, each of them stacked with stolen goods of one type or another, plus a couple covered with weapons. The one to the farthest left supported a money counter, bound bills, and velvet bags that doubtless contained jewels or other expensive items.

  A single man stood guard in the room, positioned at the far window through which he gazed out at the brighter lights of the main part of the city. An assault rifle was slung casually over his shoulder.

  Damn. Maybe these jerks aren’t as amateur as I assumed if they pack that kind of heat.

  All his primary options for removing the man from this distance would probably also hurl him through the glass in front of him, so he crept through the doorway and eased it closed. An open lane ran down to his right, and he transited it without detection. He turned left at the end with the intention to move beside the windows so he could blast his target parallel to them. The desks blocked his way and he muttered imprecations under his breath. The part of his mind that told him to go loud and not worry about the window pushed obstinately against the more rational portion. He gritted his teeth, cast a veil in front of him, and climbed over the obstacles.

  Two things were immediately apparent when he reached the top of the final piece of furniture. First, the man was clearly a magical—as many or all of the group’s members doubtless were, even if they chose to carry guns. He turned at the appearance of the cloaking spell as if he’d somehow sensed the magic. Second, removing the desks from their support walls had apparently compromised their fundamental stability. The surface under his feet wobbled, and he hurled himself forward in a diving roll as the guard twisted to raise his gun into a firing position.

  Tanyith barely managed to summon a force shield in time to catch the barrage of bullets that erupted from the weapon. Magical or not, the man’s aim proved to be excellent and he delivered tightly grouped rounds that forced him to maintain precise concentration so his defense wouldn’t falter. His foe backed away slowly, and a quick glance at the door betrayed his intentions.

  Oh no you don’t. He extended his protective barrier to full height as he stood and raced toward the man.

  The guard seemed momentarily surprised when his magazine ran out of bullets but recovered quickly to launch a shadow magic blast. Tanyith shifted the nature of the shield to better match the incoming attack but doing so slowed him. The small grin on his opponent’s face as he neared the door inspired a snarl, and he released the power he’d been building. The two desks closest to his enemy careened at the man like they’d been kicked. He yelped and managed to conjure a hasty shield, but it wasn’t sufficient to absorb the full momentum of the projectiles. The metal furniture formed a sandwich with the wall and crushed him inside.

  So much for subtlety. Between the gunfire and the crashing equipment, the time for sneaking had definitely reached an end. However, two possible options now confronted him. The first was an extreme desire to attack whoever no doubt raced to the stairs at that very moment. It surged through him and he took several steps in that direction before the other option found purchase in his brain. He hesitated, knowing the right choice wouldn’t make him happiest but decided to follow it anyway.

  Another wave of force magic lifted the other desks nearby and stacked them in front of the door to the staircase. The makeshift barricade wouldn’t hold for long—seconds at the most—but it would probably be all he needed.

  He sprinted to the desk at the far end and snatched up a random sack from one of the others on the way. Impatient, he emptied it of the stuffed animals it held—Seriously, you guys, what the hell are you thinking?—and shoved bills and velvet bags into it. He turned to look for more but the sound of voices and footsteps in the stairwell stopped him.

  With no time to waste, he jerked the bag closed, whirled toward the nearest window, and pushed into a sprint. As he approached, he raised a hand to shatter the glass with a force bolt and the shards exploded into the night. He followed a moment later and used a force blast to boost him up and over onto the next roof.

  Tanyith looked back as the piled desks catapulted away from the door. He raced to the far edge, jumped, and again, force magic cushioned his landing. Once out of their sight, he conjured a portal and stepped through it to safety.

  The church was one of the oldest in New Orleans, an Episcopalian ministry that had extended open arms to the magical community as well. In his time with the Atlantean gang several years before, it had provided a no-questions-asked refuge for anyone and everyone who needed it. The only rule had been that all involved observed the rules of sanctuary. High-level meetings among enemies who would have felt comfortable meeting nowhere else had taken place during the late-night hours on a number of occasions. He imagined the main congregation would no doubt have supported that service had they been aware of it.

  A woman who had spent her childhood on the streets had been the priest of the church for almost a decade. He recalled her powerful and animated preaching style, but her most memorable feature was her determination to ensure that what was right was accomplished, regardless of anything that might get in the way. She would be the perfect person for this job.

  Her home stood on the church grounds, a small single-family dwelling. He searched carefully and saw no evidence of a security system, although he wasn’t at all surprised. It was known on the streets that anyone who targeted her would find themselves declared persona non grata and hunted by all sides, which possibly made her the safest person in the city. Whether she knew it or not, he had no idea, but she doubtless trusted in her deity to keep her safe if that was his or her will. In any case, it made tonight’s work easier.

  He had stopped and bundled the items he’d taken from the not-so-petty thieves into a box and included a note. It instructed her to make sure Bennie received a portion and shared his suspicions abo
ut where the loot had come from. He trusted her judgment from there, whether to direct it to those who had lost it or to distribute it to those in greater need. Aside from the fact that he didn’t have time to worry about the distribution, he readily acknowledged that it simply wasn’t his forte.

  No, Anastasia will do a much better job than I ever would. He picked the lock, slid the container inside, then quietly reset the lock and closed the door.

  With that successfully accomplished, he walked to a position where he wouldn’t be noticed and called in an anonymous tip on the group’s location. That might result in a little more of the stolen property finding its way home.

  Finally, he punched Kendra’s number in and a wide smile spread across his face as she picked up after a single ring and demanded, “Why aren’t you here yet?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cali’s night hadn’t turned out the way she’d expected. When Tanyith had declined her offer to assist him in whatever adventure he had undertaken, she’d had visions of normal things ahead—sleep, maybe an enjoyable meal beforehand, and possibly even catching up on some of the homework she somehow routinely neglected. Instead, there she was in the very early morning hours, watching the front door of the Shark Nightclub. Fyre sat on the rooftop beside her, his eyes also locked on the entrance.

  “Are you sure about what you heard?” she asked again,

  The Draksa sounded exasperated, possibly because he’d answered the same question a number of times already. “Yes, I’m positive of it.”

  “You were flying fast and fighting. You could be mistaken.” Part of her had doubts but the rest simply enjoyed messing with him. Fortunately, in this circumstance, she could indulge both.

  He stared at her, unblinking, for almost half a minute before he answered. “I heard what I heard. There will be a special delivery of some kind tonight at the club.”