Blood & Magic

by Catherine Wolffe

  “Tell you what. If we aren’t back by morning, send a search party. Okay?” The snide strain in his words relieved some of the tension between his shoulder blades. “I’m not your kindergartener who needs supervision, clear?”

  The sneer lifted Rocco’s dark, upper lip. “Clear.” Glancing at Thomas, he added, “Take care of yourself, Thomas.”

  “Always,” Thomas said with a grin. “See you in the morning.”

  ***

  The shift now would bring down her cover around her ears. Jessie desperately wanted to shift. She wanted to race through the trees as fast as the amulet would allow. J.T. was acting like a real jerk. She didn’t like his tone. The glances he gave her spoke volumes about her part as Rocco. He disliked the idea of her becoming a man, certainly not one in a power position. No, that was his job, wasn’t it? Righteous anger simmered beneath the golden skin of the man in which Jessie presently resided. She clenched her fists tight. Outwardly, the growl sounded manly, yet in her head, the voice was hers. Struggling with the frustration of keeping up the charade, she silently hoped J.T. came through with some news about her parents.

  A mental picture of her parents surfaced. Glancing out at the darkening skyline, she envisioned them huddled near a small fire. They surely labored in the fields like those in her camp. Her father’s heart wasn’t healthy enough for extended periods of work and stress. Jessie worried about him and her mother. “Take care of each other,” she whispered to no one. If only she could get them out. “You better find something, J.T. You better find them.”

  A quiet voice spoke from the door to Rocco’s hut. “Rocco?”

  Standing, Jessie took on the persona of the man once more. “Yes?”

  A small girl stood in the doorway. Her slim build and rangy stature marked her as a child, but the eyes, the reality of their struggle played out in her eyes. Not naïve to the conditions or struggles they faced, Carmen couldn’t have been more than fourteen. She had seen a world far more cruel and barbaric than many veterans.

  “My mother’s fever is dropping. I wanted to thank you for your help.”

  Rocco’s chest tightened. “No thanks needed.”

  The girl’s head dropped. “Yes, I know.”

  It was all she had. The thought struck Rocco with such force he ground down hard on his teeth. While the Haitian had sat groveling in self-pity, those around him responded to the smallest glimmer of hope, like clutching at crumbs. “Give your mother the broth I brought you. I’ll check on her again in the morning. Keep her covered against the night chill and stoke the fire.”

  The girl nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Rushing forward, she wrapped her arms around him. “I will, I promise.” Her words, muffled against his chest, vibrated through him. Rocco found breath hard to come by at that moment as he laid his hand atop the girl’s head. She stiffened. Mimicking a butterfly’s flight, Carmen released him before fleeing the hut.

  He sat down hard on the dirt floor. Glancing down, he noted his hands shook. His life as Jessie had taken a hard about-face with the discovery of the powerful amulet. “You have to get ahold of yourself.” Gripping the amulet, he sensed the energy capsuled in the stone. “You can do this.” One meaty fist punched the ground.

  Chapter 11

  The beat-out path on the forest floor held little to no light. J.T. used his sight to avoid any traps. “You okay back there, Thomas?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. Up ahead is the area I told you about. The one where there’s a waterfall.”

  “Copy that.” J.T. zeroed in on the vicinity of the falls. “You say there’s an opening behind the falls?”

  “Yes. The Sultan uses the opening for his goings and comings from his facility. The prisoners should be inside that cave.” Indicating the area up ahead, Thomas took point, heading straight for the falls.

  J.T. had to admit, without his help, locating any structure of the Sultan’s would have taken a lot longer. “Thank you,” he whispered to any gods listening. “Let us find them.”

  At the base of the steep rock ledge, a pristine waterfall fell into a serene blue pool below. Steam rose from the pool casting the scene in a mist of sorts. Winter did not have the same grip on the Netherworld like it did on Cheniere Station. Grateful for small favors, J.T. moved in.

  As was his habit, he wanted to go in solo. Since he was already dead, he mused. “Stay here.” Giving the command to Thomas, he skirted the perimeter of the open area as well as the water. In the shallows of the water, fish swam while frogs jumped in pleasure. The trip to the cave had taken almost an hour. No quick travel from camp to camp. The Sultan must be able to travel as a vampire. He rolled his shoulders before cracking his neck from side to side. The bloodsucker had one more aptitude J.T. needed to add to his list of skills.

  Inching forward carefully, he examined the falls. There didn’t seem to be an opening visible. Using his sight, J.T. scanned through the water tumbling over the rocks above. He spotted a small shadow about ten feet off the base of the ledge. Undoing his gear, he stripped out of his Kevlar to skirt the rim of the pool’s edge. Glancing up, he spotted an opening carved out of the face of the stone wall.

  The sound behind him frightened his dead soul into life – almost. “Thomas!” he hissed. “Don’t you know better than to come up behind a man from the back.” He scowled at the Cajun.

  Thomas shrugged before giving J.T. a cocky grin. “Sorry.” Inclining his head, he motioned for J.T. to examine the opening. “See, I told you so.”

  J.T. managed to tamp down his irritation long enough for Thomas to scramble up, and then into the opening. They were due a talk about recon procedures when they got back.

  “Come on.” Thomas gestured toward the door. “There’s nobody here.”

  Carefully listening to each sound, J.T. followed Thomas to the opening! “Got your light?”

  “Right here.”

  “Good, use it only when you think you’ve discovered something. Got that?”

  “Okay.” Thomas shouldered his rifle in a show of solidarity. “This way.”

  The darkness held moisture from the falls. Doing his best to remain upright, J.T. weighed the options as they advanced on the unknown. They could come upon the lair of the Sultan or perhaps the blood slaves. Jessie would be thrilled with the news. Sure, she would. How did it make a difference? She had her life to live. He had his to endure. The two were either team members or friends with benefits, he supposed. Nothing more. Shaking off the sense of loss, he kept going. “Get a grip, man,” he murmured.

  “What’s that?” Thomas turned sharply, peering at him in the darkness.

  J.T. supposed his imagination was playing tricks on him. Thomas’ eyes glowed red. Convinced he saw things because of the dark, he shook his head. “Nothing. Keep going.”

  In the distance, a light appeared. A small, flickering light danced in place. More illusions, J.T. decided. He nudged Thomas. “Do you see it?”

  “The light up ahead? Yes, looks like a campfire. We may have blood slaves. Come on, let’s move.”

  The order, given in a tone J.T. recalled made him hesitate. “Wait.”

  Thomas halted, turning slowly. “What?”

  Eying him carefully, J.T. shook his head. “Nothing. You just sounded like someone I used to know, is all. Rattled me.”

  “Memories hold secrets for those we leave behind.”

  J.T. narrowed his eyes at the statement. “Where did that come from?” he asked quizzically. Unable to see more than a dark form of Thomas, he scowled at the shrug that one shared. “Never mind. We’re clocking time. Let’s move.”

  Together, they reached the small campfire burning bright. No one was there. Maybe the scene was a trap to lure them inside. Scowling the corners of the opening for clues, J.T. discovered clothing piled in a makeshift trunk. Atop the clothing lay a weapon. A Glock, like the kind used by the military. He turned to Thomas. “Look.”

  “That’s military issue. Refugees can’t get their hands on such a thin
g, can they?”

  J.T. rubbed his thumb over the cold steel. “Maybe we were wrong. Maybe this is a guard post for the Sultan’s guards.” Glancing about, he noted a few rations nearby. “Look for an entrance or opening to the interior of this place. There’s got to be a way inside.” Kicking over the trunk, he spotted computer zip drives along with a drone nestled in a blanket laden hole. “Look at this,” he said with some incredulity.

  Thomas stepped closer, peering at the stash. “Would the Sultan approve of such storage I wonder?” Glancing at J.T., he smirked.

  “I don’t think so. This isn’t the usual hiding place for valuable intel. Dump that in your bag. We’ll have to get it back to the warlock for analysis.”

  “Copy that.”

  J.T.’s brain registered the response. A civilian slave, especially one from south Louisiana swamps, didn’t answer with military lingo. Something was off with Thomas. J.T. felt the unease roll in his gut.

  Scouring the area, they managed to find little else of help. Then the momentum shifted with the unearthing of a hole dug out of the wall. Using a tactical light, J.T. examined the inside. Big enough for a man to crawl into, yet narrow as well as void of light, the opening seemed more of a hideout than an entrance to the interior of the cliff.

  “All right, let’s gather the evidence and get out of here.” Glancing at his watch, J.T. figured they had about an hour left before he would need his own dark hideout.

  Thomas scooped up the drives before pocketing the Glock. “Should we leave a calling card?”

  At J.T.’s bemused stare, he added, “Something to let whoever’s hunkering down here know we found their little secrets.”

  “If it’s the slaves, then they may gain some confidence in a return visit, but if it’s the Sultan’s guard dogs, he’ll know we are on to him.” Usually J.T. didn’t like stirring the pot, but in the Sultan’s case, he welcomed the idea he could make that one squirm. “Do it. Leave one of the dirt boomers Logan charmed for us. Not much of a deterrent, more of a defuse trigger.”

  Thomas nodded. “Good thinking.”

  With the boomer in plain sight, they left the way they’d entered. At the mouth of the hole, J.T. hesitated. “Aim and fire, Thomas,” he ordered.

  Thomas bore down on the boomer. With one efficient shot, the boomer exploded in a few million pieces.

  “Okay, let’s haul ass.”

  Chapter 12

  Rocco woke to the sound of screams. Yanking on pants, he grabbed the rifle lying next to his cot. Caution made him stop at the door, checking for the direction of the attack. Daylight was still an hour away, he decided. The timing could only mean one thing. The Sultan had arrived.

  His heart beat a rapid staccato in his chest. Searching the darkness, he saw nothing more than shadows, some crouching, some sprawled, some hoisted by ropes hanging from the trees. A cruel numbness gripped him. “Dead,” he murmured. Stealth like, he kept to the shadows of the huts. A sensation of futility filled his gut. Without backup, he couldn’t stop the massacre. Light flashed before his eyes. Gunfire erupted amid the confusion. More silhouettes crumpled to the ground.

  “Where is your leader?” The Sultan’s voice rang out above the screams and crying.

  Whimpers coupled with soft pleas for mercy wrenched at Rocco’s control. “Noooooo!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “Enough! Stop this madness. It’s me you want. I’ll surrender if you leave them alone. They did nothing to you.”

  The Sultan slowly turned. As he found the one he had come for, his black eyes narrowed. “You are willing to go quietly?”

  Rocco swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Sensible. Logical. Traitor!” The Sultan stabbed the air with his beringed finger. “Seize him!”

  Guards swarmed Rocco, knocking him flat in the dirt. He passed out for a moment. When he woke, he found his arms tied behind his back. “Don’t hurt them. You’ve got what you wanted. Please, let them be.”

  “You are in no position to request anything from me. I’ll see you hanged for the trouble you’ve caused.”

  Perhaps, there was still a chance he could recoup some of his cover. “My lord, I serve only you. Have mercy on the people. They are your humble servants.”

  The Sultan’s lip peeled back in a vicious sneer. “Now, you compound your deceit with lies. I’ll see you hanged for your betrayal. Bring him into the firelight.” His robe swam around his feet as he stepped closer. Stabbing his shaft at Rocco, he ordered the guards to string him up. “Your people will see you die for your lies and dishonor.”

  The commander spoke. The guards obeyed. Rocco was shoved to stand beneath one of the old oak trees sheltering the camp. He watched as a fat rope sailed over the sturdiest limb. Glancing at those who hung from other branches, he grimaced. His one coherent thought proved telling. He would never see J.T. again as Rocco or Jessie. The pain of that realization seared his insides. His lips went dry with the idea this was his ending. What did he have to bargain with?

  Sunrise was coming. Yes, J.T. would be returning soon. If only, he could stall long enough for him to get back. One tear fell as he remembered the last words J.T. said before disappearing into the forest. Rocco knew what he had to do. “I have one thing to say. How can you destroy the only time-traveler you have?”

  The Sultan cut him a piercing glance. “Halt.” His eyes never left Rocco. “Time traveler? What are you referring to?”

  Rocco squared his chin. Sweat slithered down his backbone. Swallowing the bile creeping up his throat, he lifted his chin. “I am a time traveler.”

  A hush fell as the wailing subsided.

  The Sultan strolled to stand in front of Rocco. “If this is a ploy to save your neck, I will make you suffer like you cannot imagine.” Pacing away, he considered. “I will require a demonstration.” Flicking a finger at the guards, he pointed to Rocco. “Cut him loose.”

  The bindings fell away. Rocco stood silently rubbing the rope burns on his wrists. Glancing back at the slaves cowering in the misty haze of fog rolling over the ground, he nodded. “You will demonstrate your powers to me. I’ll spare the people in return.” Turning, he paced in the other direction. “Bring me the camera from the interior of the mansion.” Slowly, the Sultan turned, locking eyes with Rocco. “I know you remember where it is.” The smirk held pure evil.

  “Yes, master.” Rocco’s chin lifted a notch past level. The amulet burned his skin beneath his shirt. As if to warn him of impending doom, the stone glowed. Grasping the chain, Rocco took a step and another until he stood in the light of the new day dawning.

  Bathed in the sunlight, he understood, no one was coming. He was all alone in this fight. Sprinting forward, he raced for the trees. Static and sparks flashed in his peripheral vision. The ground fell away as he surged into space. Without the chance to discard his clothing, the material tore away from his body. Soon, he came to a skidding halt inside the foyer of the mansion. Lying very still, he felt the changes in his body. The noticeable lankiness meant only one thing.

  Eyes opened on a new day as Jessie sat up before rolling to a crouch. Naked with skin burning, she walked straight into the room she used as a bedroom. Early twentieth-century clothing hung in the closet. The combination of eras had to be the Sultan’s work. After all, the egotistical demon knew everything, or so he thought. Wondering if the souls he absorbed had anything to do with his fetish for mismatched remnants from an earlier time, she pulled out a dress, tugging it over her head.

  The flapper silhouette was one she could pull off. Slender to a fault, her curves were slight. Eying the reflection in the mirror, she winced. J.T. had enjoyed skimming his hands over her slim form. Her hands trembled. No need in thinking of anything other than getting back. Grabbing the broken camera as she passed through the secret passage, Jessie took flight for the camp.

  Unable to stop, she tumbled headlong into a hut before righting herself. No one saw her arrive, or so she hoped. Fear over what the Sultan had done with the slaves chipped away at her c
ourage. She glanced about for the bastard. He appeared in the entrance to her hut. Looking for useful tidbits, she concluded. He probably thought she had a stash of gold or diamonds. She smiled to herself at the gratifying thought of his disappointment over finding nothing of value.

  Now she became the stranger in a strange land. Jessie stood to dust herself off. The red sequined dress appeared worse for wear. A fist size rip hung in the side of the dress. There was another tear along the hem as well as a row of fringe which dragged the ground. Did she have the courage?

  With a deep breath, Jessie released the tension building in her shoulders. The sun was waking up in the sky. Birds joined in song amidst the treetops. Squirrels barked at her as she stood her ground. Facing the evil one, she squared her stance. “Don’t think about the outcome,” she whispered to the niggling voice inside her head. A flash of memory solidified her at that moment. Out of need, you conjured Rocco. Jessie, you can do it again. J.T. potent features swam before her mind’s eye.

  With her jaw set in a firm line, she lifted a brow. Comforted by the fact she trusted J.T., Jessie straightened her spine. Eyes narrowing, she made a point of glaring at the Sultan. She could do this thing. She could conjure the shift using the amulet. Perhaps the reason she accomplished the task was inadvertent. Perhaps deep in her head, she understood the power of Rocco as a defense against the Sultan. After all, the fete had to come from somewhere. Why not her own imagination?

  “Well, now.” The Sultan’s robes flapped around his satin slippers as he stepped toward her. An ominous wave of dust drifted following his approach.

  Again, J.T.’s roughish face appeared. Logan’s herbs will complete the spell.

  Jessie stiffened. She had forgotten that part of the spell. Too, late! “Here’s your pathetic camera. Hope you enjoy the screening.”

  The Sultan’s brow arched. “It has been you all along.”

  “Yeah, it’s been me. Rocco, Jessie, one in the same.” Giving him a go-to-hell look, Jessie kicked the camera toward him. “Your voyeur equipment needs replacing. Ever heard of a thing called a computer?”