“What’s the fix?” was the real question.
Her straw-blonde hair looked brittle, like it would tear or crack if she tried to comb it. There were dirt streaks on her face, and some in her hair, but it was her eyes that made me sure she was Claws. They were the color of the harvest moon, which was generally a sign of some type of shifter struggling to control the animal portion of their psyche. Unlike the man, she was constantly moving. She made micro-motions like sniffing, licking her lips, scratching her arm, and shifting her weight. All were telltale signs that something else was on her mind. That gave me options.
“She’ll be driven by emotion,” I calculated. “It shouldn’t be hard to elicit the reaction I want.”
The man was a different story; cool, collected, and shirtless.
“Damn,” Night whispered as she looked over his chest and stomach.
If there was such a thing as a ten-pack, this dude had it. He was a fucking Adonis sculpted by DaVinci out of flesh and blood. His sun-kissed skin gleamed in the motel’s unflattering, dim lights, and his pearly whites flashed in a grin as we stepped onto the asphalt. He was a little taller than me, wider at the shoulders, with curly black hair that framed his face like a Hollywood star.
Everything about him was impressive, but the most imposing thing I noticed were his leather pants. I’d seen the Friends episode where Ross made that mistake. Guys shouldn’t wear leather pants, and they sure as shit shouldn’t wear tight leather pants. Talk about a bad case of swamp ass, and for this guy to be wearing them in Mexico . . . he must have had cojones the size of watermelons. If the girl was Claws, that made him Tentacle, and the Nosferatu Butters had schooled me on.
“Don’t let him spit on you,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
“What?” I hissed back.
“Narcotic saliva. It makes fentanyl look like Tylenol,” Butters explained, but then her voice caught in her throat. “Skella?”
The last Kappa Magnus sat on the ground between Tentacle and Claws. Her head was lolled back against the door panel, her eyes were wide opened, but they were rolled into the back of her head. It was creepy to look directly into the whites of her eyes as she lay there high as a fucking kite, and closer to death than she’d ever been in her short life. It was even creepier that Tentacle ran his hand through her hair and petted her head like a loyal dog.
When he saw he had our attention, he grabbed either side of her face and moved it back and forth so her nose bounced off his belt buckle. Claws laughed at the imaginary BJ, and licked her lips as she looked me up and down.
“You couldn’t pay me enough to touch her with a ten-foot poll and a hazmat suit,” I grimaced.
“Welcome,” Tentacle smiled as he tossed Skella’s head back and it rebounded off the Jeep’s side panel. His eyes snapped to Night. “Ms. Knight,” he tsked like a disappointed parent. “You were given explicit instructions to get our product from point A to point B on the appropriate timeline. You failed,” his grin dropped to a feigned sad expression. His acting was the first unimpressive thing I’d seen about him.
“I’m sorry. I hit a snag on the way back to the border. I still have the product, and can get it where you need it to go within a few hours,” Night tried to act bored with the whole situation, but I could smell the fear leaking off her. Judging by the deep inhalation of air, so could Claws.
Tentacle continued to tsk her like an errant schoolchild. “We run things on a schedule for a reason, Ms. Knight. Shipments are already out in decreased amounts. Those amounts sell for exponentially more the farther into your country they get. It might only be half a kilo, and five thousand dollars in California; but it’s fifteen thousand dollars where it’s going. You’ve cost us fifteen grand today, Ms. Knight. How are you going to repay us?”
Night’s act faltered under his gaze, and she shivered.
“I’ve got an idea,” I raised my hand, drawing everyone’s attention.
“You also lied, Ms. Knight. You told us you were traveling with your two girlfriends. Who is this gentleman?” Tentacles eyes focused on me and he blinked. It wasn’t the horizontal blink of a human, but the vertical blink of something else.
“Creepy,” unlike Night, I didn’t let my fear show. I’d almost been beheaded by a little G god. I wasn’t going to let some Latino Fabio scare me.
“I’m the snag,” I shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “These three got caught up with me. It’s no fault of their own, but we can make this all right. How about Night gives you back the drugs, and we all walk out of here with our four, or in your case, five, appendages attached,” I smiled, and made sure it read don’t-fuck-with-me in big neon letters. When dealing with a predator, I needed to look like a fellow jungle beast; or at least something that would be too tough to eat.
Tentacle cocked his head to study me while Claws took a step in my direction. She literally started to foam at the mouth as her face elongated to reveal a wicked set of pointed incisors.
“If she charges get ready to move,” I whispered.
I had no plan beyond causing a scene that would let the girls get to their car. I still didn’t know what the hell I was going to do with Skella, and playing it by ear was a good way to get killed.
“Fuck,” Claws took another step toward me.
“Get your mutt back on its leash, and get a rabies shot while you’re at it,” I stated calmly.
Claws snarled like the animal she was and dropped to all fours, ready to charge.
“Heel!” Tentacle’s voice snapped through the building tension, and Claws reared back like she’d been struck. Her face returned to her feral-human form as she sulked back to stand next to the jeep.
“What’s your name?” Tentacle continued to study me.
“You tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine,” I replied levelly.
“I am Duke Santiago Tikal,” the air seemed to grow heavier as he identified himself.
“I’m Cam,” I replied nonchalantly.
“Cam,” the Nosferatu tasted my name on his lips like it was some sort of fine wine. “I don’t know you.”
“I’m a nobody,” I willed it to be the truth because my life depended on it.
Santiago was from a rival cabal, a cabal mine was in a state of war with. If they found out who I was, things would get uglier than they already were. I casually folded my hands behind my back to hide the mystical tattoo that identified I was part of Lilith’s harem.
“I doubt that,” Santiago stated as he continued to study me. “I sense power in you.”
“I got a solid eight hours last night. Sleep will work wonders for you,” I edged myself over to cover the girls as much as possible.
Something about this dude told me I’d only have a second to react if he attacked. I’d been holding tight to my growing Fae power since I’d stepped out of the motel room and into this clusterfuck, but something told me to change it up. I let go of the ball of white fire in my gut, and embraced what I assumed were my Aesir abilities. There was no burst of fire and lightning shooting through my veins to give me preternatural strength and speed on par with a noble Fae. However, I did fall immediately into the zone. Now, details stood out a little clearer. I could think a little faster, and most importantly, my precognition should be up and running. On the downside, my body felt like someone had recently dropped a car on it. Without my Fae healing, I was feeling all the damage of the last few days. The power Butters had transferred to me helped, but I was only one step up from hammered shit.
The air was thick with tension for a moment before Santiago started to laugh. The humans with him looked unsure for a second, but then joined in. I’d just met the guy, but he seemed like the kind of boss who’d kill his underlings if they didn’t appreciate his humor. I grinned after a moment, relaxed as everyone had a good chuckle, and that’s when my sight flared a warning.
“Down,” I half-jumped, half-fell toward the girls, bringing them down with me; and not a second too soon.
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Something long, pink, and slimy lashed out of the Nosferatu’s mouth and stabbed toward where I’d been. It was nearly as thick around as Santiago’s entire face, so I saw what Butters meant about these creatures wearing a human flesh mask. I caught sight of something black and leathery around where the magical mask and tongue met, but I didn’t pay it much attention.
The tongue struck with a speed that would make a cobra jealous, and easily covered the thirty feet between us. My sight saved our asses as the tongue passed over our bodies and into the back bumper; right next to the UCSD sticker.
“Shield!” I yelled before any of the humans could think to pull the trigger.
While Night summoned the air to harden between us and them, I dropped one gift for another. The white inferno at my heart blazed as I summoned a glamour dagger; not a sword because I didn’t want to expend the energy. A sharp object was a sharp object, and I lashed out at the tentacle-tongue, which was having a little trouble dislodging from the metal bumper.
“Take this motherfucker!” I roared, and expected my magically-sharp blade to cut the fucker’s tongue off with ease.
That’s not how it worked out. I did cut the bastard, but it looked like a feeble flesh wound. Still, from the screech that came out of whatever passed for a Nosferatu’s throat; you’d have thought I’d stabbed him in the dick.
I didn’t blame him. I also had something long and pink on me. If Santiago’s tongue was anywhere as sensitive as my trouser snake, I’d scream bloody murder too. With a mighty yank that ripped off the whole bumper, the tongue finally dislodged itself and snapped back in to Santiago’s mouth. The man kept screaming as his flesh mask flickered, but I moved on to more pressing threats.
“Butters . . .!” I started, but she was already on it. I felt the searing heat against my cheek as the Ignis mage let loose.
Unlike the other time, this wasn’t human-flamethrower mode. In fact, Butter’s attack was surgical in comparison. A beam of white fire streaked away from her outstretched finger. It wasn’t any wider than a number two pencil, but it struck the machine gunner in the chest and burned a hole clear through him. The guy never got a chance to scream, he just fell out of the back of the jeep.
“Cool. Laser fingers.”
“Move,” I yelled, using more of my limited glamour power to create a thick smoke screen in between us and the goons.
I wasn’t fast enough. Loud booms echoed through the night as the cabal’s humans got their shit together and opened fire. Most rounds went wide as the gunners fired blind, but then started to come closer as they aimed before they fired. A snap made me cringe as it hit the asphalt next to us while we scrambled for the cover of the car.
Then, Night screamed, and I felt like someone Charley horsed me. The muscles in my upper back tensed up like a motherfucker, and the wind was knocked out of me. I fell forward, onto Butter’s back, where she was hunched protectively over Night. If there wasn’t gunfire raging all around us, this would be hella hot. The Caeli mage wasn’t moving, and blood trickled from her ears and nose.
“She’s burned out,” Butter’s voice was thick with terror as more shots ricocheted around us.
I gathered as much. Her shield had only partially blocked a round that would have hit me in the back. As it was, it felt like I’d been punched by Mike Tyson. I’d have a bruise there tomorrow, but I could still fight.
“Get her in the car,” I heaved myself off Butter’s back, spun, and summoned a glamour shield between us and the gunfire.
It was power that I didn’t have to waste, but I couldn’t take another bullet, and Butters couldn’t take any at all. Her rock-hard abs were decorative. My glamour-smoke hid us long enough for her to throw Night in the back seat, but the shooters were starting to cautiously move forward and zero in on us.
“Time to go on the offensive.”
“Get in the car and wait for my signal,” I whispered, and gently shut Butter’s door.
“What signal?” she hissed as I moved up along the edge of the motel.
“You’ll know,” my grin was lost in the fog.
I might have kept up the confident charade for her, but in my mind, I was chanting, “oh fuck . . . oh fuck . . . oh fuck . . .” as I moved to flank the cartel shooters.
I might not know magical creatures one-oh-one, but Peter made sure I knew infantry tactics one-oh-one. Ideally, I’d have a force to fix the enemy in place while I flanked them, but beggars can’t be choosers. I hoped my glamour fog did the same thing.
I rounded another car a few parking spaces down from Butter’s Camry, and took a deep breath to gather my concentration for what came next. I dissolved my shield, and used its energy to fashion some throwing daggers. I’d been on the receiving end of this attack from Aveena twice already, so I knew it could really fuck up your day. I cradled the daggers in my palm, took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and focused on the fog with my mind’s eye.
That was the thing about glamour, it was my will made reality. Keyword, mine. If I concentrated hard enough, I could feel what happened in my little bubble of reality; but it was a double-edged sword. Most Fae didn’t do it because it opened up the mind to debilitating psychic feedback. Thankfully, I wasn’t facing other Fae, and something told me mundane humans wouldn’t know what hit them.
I opened my mind, expanded my metaphysical senses, and found my targets. Not all of the gunmen were advancing into the fog, but most were, and they were popping off rounds at random to try and keep my head down. Too bad they weren’t anywhere close. I took a deep breath, focused my power, and literally let it fly. I could chuck the daggers at speeds that would give a major league pitcher wet dreams, but it sucked ass for the gunmen. One after the other, they took three-inch daggers hilt deep in important parts of their bodies. You know, those parts people needed to stay alive. I aimed for hearts, lungs, necks, spines, femoral arteries, anything that would take them out of the fight, and I succeeded.
They went down, and the shooting stopped. To add insult to injury, I twisted each dagger to really fuck them up before dissolving the glamour weapons. They’d all bleed out in a matter of minutes now that nothing was holding all that blood in. Not gonna lie, I was pretty proud of myself for pulling off that move.
The next thing I heard was a guttural roar, the sound of claws on asphalt, and then Claws jumped out of the fog straight toward me. She was fully transformed now. A big, nasty, starved werewolf looking for its next meal. She wasn’t as big as some werewolves I’d seen, but that was all in the eye of the beholder.
“Those claws sure as shit look sharp enough.” The rest didn’t matter.
I ducked down behind the trunk just in time to avoid having my face ripped off. I turned, and she twisted as she landed; scrambling for purchase to come back at me.
“This is going to suck,” I grimaced, but gathered my will and fired a blast of force at her. It caught her in the side, and flung her across the length of the motel. She smashed into those barrels half a football field away and caused quite a racket. Not that it could hold a candle to all the gunfire.
“That buys me a second,” I reacted faster than I could think, but I knew where I needed to go.
I needed to get Skella.
I oriented myself toward where I’d last seen her, got set like I was about to run the fifty-meter dash, and then pushed off hard enough I cracked the concrete behind me. I practically flew through the fog and emerged on course for the jeep. The only problem was that a new guy had manned the machine gun. It was focused on where I’d been, not where I was coming from. That saved my life.
I closed the distance between me and the jeep before he could reorient, but that didn’t stop him from squeezing off a few shots. My screams were drowned out as the shots went high and to the right. I lowered my shoulder. If sprinting through the fog into the unknown sucked, what came next was going to suck big, black dick. With my shoulder lowered, I bent my legs, and hit the side of the jeep low and with an upward trajectory. I tried to pl
ay superman and knock the jeep over so the machine gun wouldn’t be an issue.
On impact, something snapped inside me. The pain nearly took over, but I gritted my teeth against it and rode the wave of agony. I’d never had a football coach yell at me to push through the pain, but this must be what he was talking about. I felt my power drop to nearly nothing as the jeep jumped up onto two wheels, rocked for a second, and then came down on its unprotected top. I heard the gunner scream as he got squished by the roll cage, but I was too busy trying to figure out what was broken. A quick inspection told me it was easier to list what still worked.
Tears streamed down my face as I grabbed Skella and pulled her into my arms. She’d fallen face first onto the asphalt when I’d hit the jeep, but a little Bactine, some tweezers to pull the gravel out of her wounds, some gauze, and she’d be fine.
With a thought, I vanished the smoke, and the little bit of energy that returned helped me lift the skinny blonde into my arms and limp toward the car.
“Now!” I yelled.
The rear lights flashed, Butters threw it in reverse, and she nearly ran me over as she backed out. I opened the door to throw Skella in the back on top of Night, and almost missed Santiago stepping into the path of the car. Like me, he’d been looking to flank our position. It was pure luck Claws had come my way and I’d been able to get rid of her. I’m not sure how I’d fare in a boss match at the moment.
Now, we stood facing a Duke of the Tikal Cabal. He was the only thing standing between us and freedom. I was so tired, I didn’t think I could fart in his general direction, and I was about to tell that to Butters.
“I got this,” Butters said in a no-nonsense tone. I gulped, hopped in the passenger seat, and put on my seat belt.
She revved the car once . . . twice . . . and then stepped on it. Burned rubber filled the air as the mid-sized, four-door sedan leapt forward toward the Nosferatu. In a blur I couldn’t track, Santiago produced a bedazzled revolver – encrusted with actual jewels, not that little girl shit – and emptied half a clip into our car. The shots tracked upward from the grill toward the windshield, but he never got that far.
Courts and Cabals 3 Page 6
