Run, Kat, Run and Encantado Dreams (Mortality Bites: Publisher's Pack Book 4)

by Ramy Vance

  But fighting a spellbound mob of innocents as a human? Not so much.

  For one thing, I had to hold back, doing my best not to inflict any permanent damage on any of these guys.

  For another, getting punched in this human body hurt.

  “Ow!” I screamed as a manananggal demon swung her carry-on at me. From the thud her bag made, I took it she had one of those old-school laptops in there. Ever heard of a MacBook Air, lady?

  I managed to duck under the wild swing of a human yacha bozu as a chain-filled leather jacket rattled overhead. The only boon to fighting this crowd was that none of them were warriors.

  Well, maybe the demon with her indestructible laptop.

  A security guard pulled out his baton and charged. Waiting for him to get close enough, I dropped to my knees and punched him square in his … well, you know. He crumbled, dropping his baton like a cat presenting a dead bird. But even keeled over, he still reached for me, the spell in direct conflict with his natural reaction to pain.

  Can’t we give this poor guy a break? I thought as I easily swatted his hand away.

  Picking up the baton, I knocked two nixes in their chins. Stepping on the back of the still-keeled-over security guard, I launched into the air, kicking another human in the face while knocking a kijimuna on his laurel-crowned head with the baton.

  Then five more charged at me, and in the flurry of twists, punches and kicks, I couldn’t even see what they were.

  Most people think fighting multiple opponents is harder than just taking on one at a time. That might be true if the multiple opponents knew what they were doing and coordinated their attacks. Such an onslaught would quickly tire you and eventually you’d drop from exhaustion, making you easy pickings.

  But when the mob wasn’t trained and didn’t know how to work together … well, that was a whole different kind of battle. The two best ways to beat that kind of attack were to use their uncoordinated attacks against each other … and to not hold back.

  I’d let loose as a vampire in the past, and I’d have to let loose as human now. Summoning all my training in aikido, judo and Krav Maga, I let it all out, going for the most effective moves to put my attackers out of commission. So much for not doing any permanent damage. I’d like to say that I felt guilt over hurting these innocents. But my bigger ‘yes’ at this moment was surviving, and the truth was, the feral part of me enjoyed pushing this body to its limits.

  I poked the human on my left with a finger to his eye, and using the momentum of a Chinese tulou, I guided the horned creature to batter the Korean Dokkaebi in the chest. That was four of them down, leaving only the mul guishin standing.

  The terrifying, ghost-like girl just stood there, not attacking. But from the way her hand went up before going down again, I could sense an inner conflict. She didn’t want to fight me, but was still being compelled to do so.

  Seeing me defeat the others must have allowed some kind of survival instinct to kick in … a survival instinct that countered Enoch’s spell.

  Which meant his magic had limits.

  I assessed my options. So far, only eight members of the mob had attacked me. The rest held back, as if in reserve. But then again, maybe not. Enoch might have been holding back … or there were serious limits to his power.

  After all, he wasn’t burning time—he was using magical items imbued with power. Perhaps there were limits. Like, he could only send a couple charmed travelers at me at one time. Or maybe he was conserving his charges. I’d heard of some items only being able to produce a handful of fireballs before becoming perfectly ordinary trinkets again. Maybe this magic worked the same way.

  I knew that the smart thing was to get out of here. Run away. But if his magic could be drained, then that was my best bet for defeating him. So looking Enoch straight in the eyes, I said, “Even you have limits.”

  Standing, I turned my gaze on the ambling crowd and cried out in my best Brad-Pitt-as-Achilles voice, “Is there no one else?” (A great scene in an otherwise meh movie, and part of me brimmed with pride that I could use the iconic line here.)

  Enoch laughed. But given his total lack of interest in human culture, I doubted he’d seen the movie. Which meant he was amused by something else. He wagged an admonishing finger at me. “Very clever.”

  I gave him a curtsey.

  “Yes, you are right. Many of the magics I can employ do have limits and must be used in tandem to get the desired results. For example, I summoned this crowd with the lump of dough.”

  “Dough? Seriously, how is uncooked bread magical?”

  “It belonged to Moses and—”

  “These travelers are your Israelites?” I was going to have to be a Biblical scholar to defeat this guy.

  “Very good. And yes, that is exactly what the dough does. Summons travelers, and since we are in an airport …”

  “You decided to use it to hijack them.”

  “But the dough can only summon.” He dropped it on the ground. “And only once.” As soon as the impossibly-old-and-yet-not-moldy dough hit the ground, he stepped on it. The travelers behind him started to sway, as if anxious to move.

  “Then I used this little item to charm them to do my bidding.” He took off one of his rings.

  “Let me guess … it’s the one ring to bind them all.”

  He tilted his head. “Indeed. How would you know such a thing?” From his intonation, I gathered he had never read Tolkien, but that Tolkien had read and been inspired by whatever grimoire or ancient tome had that item in it.

  Enoch rotated the ring between his fingers. “Silvinus’s Ring is said to curse those nearby into doing its wearer’s bidding. But only for a time. And the more dangerous the request, the less likely they are to do my bidding.”

  He pocketed the ring. I guessed it could be used more than once. “Your prowess in battle has made these people less inclined to attack you. To that end, I must say I am impressed. Few could dispatch so many at once. You are a formidable warrior.”

  I cracked my neck from side to side before dropping into my best kung fu pose. Then flipping over my extended hand, I gestured for Enoch to approach. “A warrior who’s going to kick your ass all the way to Tuesday.”

  Did I just say that? Oh well. The only way to embrace a tired cliché is to make it true.

  I charged at Enoch.

  ‘You Haven’t Seen the Last of Me’ Is Something Villains Say

  I’ve been in a lot of fights. Despite the last few months of my life, most of them have taken place in some dojo against a martial arts master. I’ve learned how to deal with opponents who were bigger, stronger and faster than me. I’ve practiced countless moves and counter-moves, all designed to help me win.

  Or, at the very least, to help me not make a fool out of myself.

  So when I charged Enoch, I expected him to get into some defensive stance or try to hit me before I could hit him.

  What I didn’t expect was for him to do nothing. And in my arrogance, I thought that he had frozen, terrified of little ol’ moi.

  Perhaps he couldn’t believe the love of his life was going to kick his ass. Or perhaps he just couldn’t believe I would dare attack him. After all, gods used to kneel before him.

  Seeing my advantage, I upgraded what was intended to be a conservative move to—and I quote The Incredible Hulk here—SMASH.

  I leapt into the air, seeking to drive my fist down hard onto the bridge of his nose. Not only would this break his nose, it would blind him, too. And if I put enough force behind the strike, it could knock him out.

  Even with me in midair, he still didn’t move. He didn’t even look up to watch me come down on him. My fist connected, but instead of hearing the oh-so-satisfying crunch of cracking cartilage and bone, there was a dull thud as my fist exploded in pain.

  I had broken at least two fingers on his face. Badly.

  “Ahh.” I cradled my right hand. “What the f—?”

  He sighed, showing me what looked like a s
mall tin can of Vaseline. “A salve made from the rock bed of the River Styx. After your little move in the airport security room, I decided to use the same water Thetis did to make her child, Achilles, invulnerable.”

  “Another gift?” I was trying to buy myself some time while setting my two broken fingers straight. I would need this hand if I was going to keep fighting, so bracing myself, I pulled at them, resetting the bones with a horrific crack.

  I grimaced in pain, but I didn’t cry. Not even a little bit … Those tears were because I got some dust in my eyes. Honest.

  Enoch shook his head. “Actually, this was something I made for myself. There was a brief period in my immortal life when I thought I should have taken a more active role in human development. I arrogantly believed that I could convince the gods to stay by forcing humankind to become more pious.”

  “Tomás De Torquemada shit again?”

  “Indeed. That was the original design for the Inquisition—to remind humanity of God’s will through—”

  “Torture and death.”

  “Through sacrifice and resolve. Unfortunately, humans tend to hear the message and then take it one step too far. That was an unfortunate time, and one that did not influence the gods into reconsidering their abandonment.”

  “No kidding.” As we spoke, I was trying to find some kind of leverage to fight this guy. I could attack him, but not with the salve on him. Maybe I could give him a bath first? Given that he wanted to marry me, he’d probably be into that.

  Who was I kidding? There was no way out of this now. I needed to escape. Run. Regroup and figure shit out.

  I needed to get the Soul Jar to the archangel Michael in Paradise Lot and wash my hands of the problem.

  If anyone could beat a former archangel, it would be an actual archangel, right?

  “What now?” I thought. Well, I thought I’d thought it.

  “Now?” A sad smile adorned Enoch’s otherwise stoic face. “Now this ends. For you, at least.”

  ↔

  In a blur of speed and grace, he grabbed me, lifting me overhead as one hand pushed against me and the other wrapped around my neck. He was impossibly strong. I mean, I’ve fought actual superheroes (long story) with super strength, and I could still get their arms to budge a little bit. But striking down on his elbow was like hitting an iron pole. It didn’t bend in the least.

  “When I tried to kill myself up in Heaven, one technique I employed was strangulation. Hence the scars on my neck. What I forgot was how long it takes for a human to die from lack of breath.” He squeezed a little more. “And how painful it is.”

  As he held me above him, my feet dangling several inches above the ground, an old lady walked under the arc of his arm like we weren’t even there. So much for a Good Samaritan coming to my rescue.

  “Wait,” I tried to mumble, but under the pressure of his hand I couldn’t say anything.

  A minivan pulled up, letting out several kids dressed in baseball uniforms. Two overly enthusiastic kids bumped into Enoch, momentarily looking up at him before shrugging and running inside.

  So people might not notice him, but they could bump into him. And that nudge did cause Enoch to loosen his grip enough for me to take one breath.

  As soon as the kids were inside and the minivan was gone, Enoch resumed crushing my larynx as he took a few steps toward the road to avoid being interrupted by any other passengers rushing into the airport.

  “You broke my heart, Katrina. I truly believed that we would be together, but seeing your insolence, I know that to be false now. I will have to continue without you. I shall have to hunt down the were-hyena and changeling to retrieve my soul.”

  Damn it, so he’d seen my little sleight-of-hand trick.

  “But because I do still possess genuine affection for you, I promise you this: their deaths will be swift and painless. In fact, I will go one step further. They won’t even know what hit—”

  Just as he was about to finish his sentence, a friggin’ bus rolled up onto the sidewalk and crashed right into him.

  ↔

  The driver managed to get far enough onto the curb to avoid hitting me, too, catching Enoch all the way to the elbow. The momentum of the blow caused him to fly forward, dropping me in the process.

  Before I could even get my bearings, powerful hands picked me up and guided me to the open bus door, where—

  “You’ve got to be friggin’ kidding me. You couldn’t drive?” I said, turning to Deirdre.

  “I have never attempted to operate an automobile,” the changeling said as she pulled the lever, closing the bus door.

  “You still would have been a better choice than him,” I said.

  Egya’s hyena form chortled as the canine sat in the driver’s seat. Two front paws were dutifully positioned at the 4- and 8-o’clock positions on the steering wheel. His hind legs were on the accelerator and brake as his body sat at what looked like a terribly uncomfortable angle—for a dog, at least.

  At least when Enoch turned him, Egya was big enough to reach it all and still be able to see over the dashboard … Thank the GoneGods for small—or rather, big enough—miracles.

  “Move over,” I said, looking out the front window at a man who should be a two-dimensional stain.

  Enoch was dazed, more from the shock of what had happened than anything else. But as he stood, I saw that he was gripping his side. Broken ribs, I mused. So he can be hurt.

  “Let’s get out of here and disappear. If we’re lucky, we’ll never see that ex-archangel again,” I said, giving Enoch one last look. He just stared back at me with a maniacal smile on his face that I took as a sign that our little love affair was truly over. Like him trying to strangle me to death wasn’t enough of a sign.

  The gloves were off now. I could see that in his eyes. No more banter. No more trying to persuade me to be the love of his life. He had underestimated the And they knew each other part of our relationship. Should we meet again, he would play for keeps.

  Best course of action: get rid of the Soul Jar and make sure he never saw me again.

  As if reading my mind, he pointed at his lips—evidently his stalking was so detailed that he knew all about my ability to read lips—and mouthed, “Katrina Darling, you haven’t seen the last of me.”

  Normally a cliché like that would have me rolling my eyes, but seeing the deadly serious look on his lips made me and my newly reinstated soul shiver.

  I slammed on the accelerator, and as we drove past him, he made no attempt to follow or catch us. At least we had one small thing going for us this day.

  “Where are we going, milady?” Deirdre asked.

  “We need to get out of Dodge.”

  “Dodge?”

  Oh yeah, I was back with my fae I don’t know human slang roommate. Sighing and not in the mood to give her our usual ‘being human’ lesson, I said, “We need to get off the island. But first, we have to take Egya to a vet.”

  Egya snickered before licking me on the face.

  That Voodoo That You Do So Well

  I drove the ridiculous bus to Kokusai Dori, the main street that signified the center of Okinawa’s capital, Naha. There, I found the very same parking center where two Nio statues had almost ended my life only days earlier. But two gaijin and a hyena wouldn’t get far in a dented bus before some enterprising policeman pulled us over. Best to abandon the bus, and this complex was the only place I could think of to do so.

  Getting out of the bus, I looked over at the spot where I thought I was finally going to say goodbye to this GoneGod World and sighed. “Ever feel like it’s one step forward, two steps back?”

  I had muttered that out loud, seeking a wee bit of comfort from my companions. But given that Egya was a dog and Deirdre was fae, I really wished that my laments had been silent.

  “No, milady,” Deirdre said with all the seriousness of a heart attack. “Did the evil man cast a confusion spell on you?”

  Deirdre took my silence not as the inte
nded You got to be kidding me, and said, “Milady, we are very much moving forward. Watch.” The changeling warrior took several steps forward before realizing that she had walked away from—and in the opposite direction of—the exit.

  She’d need to walk back to me—in other words, backward—to get out of the parking complex.

  I waited for her to make her way back to me. “See what I mean?”

  Deirdre nodded. “Another human expression that is not meant to be literal.”

  “Indubitably,” I said as we walked to the exit.

  Egya was relieving himself on a nearby car.

  “Egya, what are you doing?”

  He finished his business before trotting over to me.

  “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that was you literally throwing Enoch off our scent, right? The owner of that car goes home, Enoch tracks us by scent, follows said owner, thus buying us some time?”

  Egya paused, cocked his head to one side in that way dogs do when thinking, and nodded. Given how long that all took, I knew he hadn’t thought of any of that and just needed to go.

  “Genius,” Deirdre said.

  “Oh yes,” I said, rigourously petting him behind his ears. “What a good dog. What a good, good dog.”

  ↔

  I hated doing this, especially given what happened the last time, but I only knew one place where we could go to get help. Kenji’s izakaya. Well, that’s not true—we could find Jean and ask for military help. But given his commander wanted to basically enlist me as an indentured servant, making me go on black-ops missions for the U.S. military, I thought he’d be Plan B.

  And Plan C would be Keiko. But given how badass Enoch was, I didn’t want to bring him to Blue’s doorstep. I couldn’t do that to them.