Unturned- The Complete Series

by Rob Cornell

  Now Urvasi's eyes grew wide. She stared so hard at the tooth I half-expected it to burst into flames. I did feel a tingling across my palm, but I thought that was Urvasi reaching with her senses to examine the tooth more closely in a magical sense.

  “You killed this witch?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Her wide gaze lifted to meet my eyes. “And you're proud of this act?”

  The judgment in her voice made me hot around the collar. “How much do you know about my mother's murder?”

  “Only a little. I do know that the Maidens of Shadow played a part. Or, at least, that was the rumor.”

  “It's no rumor. Those bitches killed her, and I have every intention of returning the favor.”

  “A dangerous path.”

  I curled my fingers closed around the tooth and lowered my hand to my side. “If you're planning to lecture me, don't bother. I have every right to vengeance.”

  She pursed her lips, and the hardness in her eyes softened. “Perhaps. But revenge seldom ends well.”

  “I don't expect it to end well. I don't want it to. Not for the Maidens, anyway.”

  Her short laugh startled me.

  “This coven you are so eager to face has ten generations of black magic in their blood. You are a young sorcerer with little control over his power.”

  I clenched my teeth. “I have enough. I've already killed three of them.”

  “I doubt they'll allow any more one-on-one confrontations. As a group, you don't stand a chance against them.”

  The overcast sky had darkened. I could smell rain in the air. The breeze ruffled my hair and chilled my scalp. I tucked my hands in my coat pockets. A sharp edge of Kimber's tooth poked against my right palm.

  “Look, I appreciate all your doom and gloom predictions, but I need your help.”

  Her eyebrows went up. She cocked her head to one side. “Oh, really?”

  “The last time I tried to track down the Maidens with magic, I ended up tussling with a demon. It was a fake out. I doubt I'll have different results with this tooth. But a sorcerer with your level of power—”

  She held up her hand. “Stop.”

  The command in her voice shut me right up.

  “I wish to help you,” she said. “But not on a fool's quest. I can feel the anger inside of you. It has served you so far, perhaps. But it will master you before long.”

  My thoughts tripped back to the restaurant, to the moment when I had put a little too much power behind my fire, to the aftermath with no one left to question.

  “If it hasn't already,” Urvasi added as if seeing into my thoughts.

  “I just need to know where they are. You don't have to worry about what happens after that.”

  “But I do. I promised your mother I would care for you.” A sad smile touched her face. “I imagine this was the very kind of thing she worried about.”

  I took an involuntary step forward. “Don't speak for my Mom. I don't care if you were friends or not. You don't know her like I do.”

  “I never said I did. But ask yourself, do you believe she would approve of this crusade of yours?”

  The answer was obvious, but I batted the thought away. She deserved to have her killers brought to justice, whether she would have approved of it or not.

  “I see,” Urvasi said, again as if peering into my mind. “You've made up your mind.”

  “That's right.” I pulled my hand out of my pocket and held the tooth out to her again. “Mom wanted you to watch out for me? Prove it. Help me.”

  Urvasi laughed and shook her head. “I come as your teacher, not your slave. I will not help you with…” Her expression soured. “That.”

  “Then I have no use for you.” I turned away.

  “Sebastian,” she called.

  I stopped but didn't turn.

  “Should you change your mind, you need only return here.”

  “I'd rather you left me alone to mourn my mother in peace.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I'll only come if you call.”

  I huffed. “Don't count on hearing from me.”

  When she didn't answer, I looked over my shoulder.

  She was gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Around five o'clock, with a couple hours to kill until I could wake Odi up, I grabbed some jambalaya at Slows BAR-B-QUE on Michigan Avenue, right in Corktown. It was one of many hip cafés and eateries in that part of the city. I thought about ordering one of the fifty some-odd craft beers they had on tap, but I didn't want to feel sluggish for the rest of the night. I had plans.

  I decided I would take the tooth to my neighbor, Gladys. She was a white witch Mom had become fast friends with when we'd moved into the Corktown house. Gladys had a massive collection of magical texts, and Mom had loved spending time with someone who shared her passion for paranormal history.

  I wasn't sure she had the skills to get around whatever magic the Maidens were using to throw off any spell that could lead to them. I also had my doubts that Gladys would help. White witches didn't tend to go looking for the black kind. The two sects were more oil and water than yin and yang.

  Still, it was worth a shot.

  I had parked around the corner. As I strolled down the sidewalk outside Slows, my thoughts were everywhere except on my surroundings. I didn't notice the forest green SUV parked at the curb, or register its back door opening, until the two guys that came out of the vehicle had flanked me from behind.

  They each gripped one of my arms and yanked me to a stop.

  I instinctively tried to break free, but they held strong. I was lean, but I wasn't a weakling. These guys, though? Bruisers, through and through. Each probably had more muscle in one arm than I did in most of my body.

  I glanced back and forth between them. One of them had a long, pointed beard that sort of curled up at the end. He wore a pair of reflective sunglasses. His lips were barely visible under his mustache.

  The other guy had a shaved head with a lightning bolt tattooed down the center of his scalp. He had a ring through one nostril. His breath smelled like bubblegum, which must have been what he was chomping on.

  The guy with the lightning bolt said, “Take 'er easy, mate. He just wants a visit.”

  “Who wants a visit?”

  He chewed his gum for a moment before he hitched a shoulder. “You'll see.”

  I tried tugging loose again, mostly to show I had no intention of cooperating, since I knew I couldn't actually get free. “I'd rather not.”

  The bearded guy chuckled. When he smiled, I noted that all four of his front teeth were made of gold. His smile might have shined, but it was still damn ugly.

  “You gonna wanna see our man,” Lightning Bolt said. “He's right important.”

  “I don't care if he's the fucking president,” I said. “You need to let me go.”

  “Or what?”

  I looked around. No one on the sidewalk. Thin traffic on the street at the moment. Across the street, a couple strolled down the walk with their arms hooked together. I could cry for help, I figured. Maybe the couple would dial 911 for me. Or they'd give me a strange look and walk faster.

  “Or,” I said, “I'll have to hurt you.”

  They both laughed, a pair of gibbering idiots.

  I sighed. “Hard way, it is.”

  I drew upon my power, glanced across the street. The couple was far enough down, they had their backs to us. A couple of cars cruised down the street toward us. I decided not to make too much of a scene. Wind would work well for that.

  I conjured twin gusts that pushed out from me and plowed against my chuckling escorts. Their strong grips nearly ripped my arms from my sockets as they both flew in opposite directions. Their holds slipped before they could do too much damage, though.

  Lightning Bolt, on my left, slammed into the facade of Astro Coffee and bounced off the front window, thankfully not breaking the glass. The few patrons inside the cafe all turned their heads to look wi
th shocked expressions.

  Lightning Bolt flailed his arms, but failed to keep his balance and he hit the pavement at my feet.

  The Bearded One sailed away to my right and hit a compact car parked at the curb, shaking the vehicle hard enough to set off its alarm. He landed on his ass, legs spread in front of him, and shook his head as if trying to clear the stars floating around him like a cartoon character.

  Wasting no time, I leapt over Lightning Bolt and made a run for it. I reached the corner, and my boots scraped against the concrete as I twisted to round the corner. My car was parked across the street, in front of the Irish American Club. I'd never been so glad to see my Jetta.

  I had no sooner stepped off the curb, when something hot and hard struck me in the center of the back. My arms pinwheeled while I flew off my feet. I landed flat on my face in the middle of the street. My chin knocked the cement and suffered a stinging case of road burn as my body skidded to a halt.

  I rolled onto my back.

  A looming form blocked the already cloud-screened sun. When he bent down, his bearded face came into focus. He waved a flaming hand in front of my face. The heat dried my skin and made my cheeks feel tight like stretched leather.

  “You're not the only elementalist in D-Town, little buddy.”

  The prickling hot pain on my back made sudden sense. He'd hit me with a fireball.

  That's my trick, damn it!

  At least my rolling onto my back seemed to have suffocated any lingering flame. And while it did hurt, it didn't hurt as much as it would have had I thrown the fire. Which meant he'd gone easy on me.

  “You ready to simmer down?” he asked.

  I turned my head back in the direction I'd run. Lightning Bolt staggered my way. I didn't see anyone else. We had this short patch of street to ourselves.

  I ignited both hands with flame and reached for his beard. I planned on giving it a good yank with one flaming hand and slap my other hand against his face.

  He dodged back.

  My hands grasped at empty air.

  He rolled his wrists as if stretching out before sitting at a piano and knocking out a concerto. A prickle of magic filled the air. Then wind whipped around me, lifted me off the ground a good ten feet, then reversed direction and slammed me to the ground.

  The back of my head knocked hard against the pavement. A gray film drew across my vision and threatened to turn black. Spots floated through my sight.

  That would leave a mark, I thought as I floundered on the edge of consciousness.

  The Bearded One bent over me. My flames had gone out, but I scrabbled at his face with my fingers.

  He grinned. “Rest easy,” he said and jabbed me with a hard-knuckled fist.

  My ears rang as I fell into darkness. Then…

  Nothing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I woke up shivering, naked, and curled up on a cold, smooth floor. My head ached, and my vision was blurry, but after I blinked a few times, my sight cleared up. And my head didn't hurt nearly as badly as it should have.

  I prodded the back of my skull where I'd hit it against the concrete. I expected at least a split scalp, if not a soft spot. My fingers traced a thin, rough line of scabbing, as if the wound had already been healing for a while. I suspected magic. But whose?

  I pushed myself up to my hands and knees. Vertigo rushed through my head, making the floor tilt. Nausea tickled the back of my throat. I stared at the floor between my hands to give myself a moment to recover. Parquet floor, waxed and shiny. Like a dance floor. Curiosity rushed me to look up before I was totally ready. Pain lanced through my temples. My stomach lurched. I swallowed back the urge to puke and gritted my teeth against the agony ping-ponging in my skull.

  “What the hell?”

  I was in the middle of a dance floor in a freaking ballroom. On either side of the parquet floor dozens of round tables draped with thick, white tablecloths filled the room. A well-stocked bar took up one corner. The air smelled like fake lemon, probably from whatever they cleaned the floors with. A crystal chandelier hung above my head with a diameter at least half the length of my Jetta. At the moment, it was the only source of light. The sconces along the walls were dark. The light from above drew a bright circle in the center of gray shadows.

  Slowly, I rose to my feet. I suffered another touch of dizziness, but I stayed standing. The ballroom was cool enough to raise gooseflesh across most parts of my naked body. I rubbed my arms to work some heat into them.

  Where the fuck were my clothes?

  I took a quick glance around. I found them neatly folded on one of the chairs pulled away from a nearby table.

  I did another scan of the ballroom. Looked like I was the only person there.

  “Whatever,” I muttered and headed for my clothes.

  I made it three steps before I thumped my nose into an invisible wall. The impact sent the drummer in my head into an encore. I took a step back and looked down with a hunch I'd know what I'd find.

  Sure enough, a circle of black ash about ten paces in diameter surrounded me. My grogginess had kept me from both seeing it and sensing the magical energy crackling along the line. I held out my hand and tapped my power to create a flame. My palm tingled a little, but that was it. Whoever had grabbed me had cast a circle around me that nullified my own magic.

  Fan-fucking-tastic.

  I turned slowly in my transparent cage. “Hello?” I shouted. “I'm up. Tell me what the fuck you want from me.”

  I got silence in response.

  I growled under my breath and paced once around the circle. Then I tried to shove my toe against the ash, but the barrier sat just within the circle. Only someone on the outside would be able to brush the ash aside. Interesting choice, ash. Part of me wondered what kind of ash. Another part of me thought I already knew. You couldn't find too many magical substances more potent than vampire dust.

  Another couple minutes went by while I paced some more, feeling some serious empathy for zoo animals, then one of a set of four doors on one side of the ballroom opened.

  Two familiar faces strode in—Lightning Bolt and the Bearded One. They walked side-by-side. A man in a black robe came in after them. He had his hood up, so I couldn't make out his face as he came toward me. Just a hint of his chin and his light-brown skin tone.

  I watched them approach. I would have preferred some clothes for this meeting, but I didn't cower or try to cover myself. If these guys insisted on keeping me naked, they would just have to deal with my junk hanging out for all to see.

  Unlike when they had assaulted me outside Slows, Lightning Bolt and the Bearded One wore stone-cold serious expressions. I thought I even sensed a bit of reverence in their posture and movement. The guy behind them must have carried some importance to them. The boss man, I assumed.

  I held out my hands. “Is the nudity a must here? I'm not much of an exhibitionist.”

  All three ignored me. In fact, they didn't so much as twitch at my words, as if they hadn't heard me. I would have thought the magic circle kept in sound as well as my body, but the echo of my voice in the far corners of the ballroom said differently.

  The assholes would get to me when they were damn ready.

  Just another tactic to show me who was in control.

  When the trio reached the dance floor, my old buddies split apart and stopped. The guy in the robes continued his approach between them. He stopped a couple of feet from the circle and drew back his hood.

  I'd never seen the guy before. He had dark hair and a young face. A thin, wispy attempt at a mustache dirtied his upper lip. He had thick, dark eyebrows that formed a stern line above his dark and intense eyes. His gaze made my skin crawl. All at once, I felt self-conscious about my nakedness. Especially when his gaze roved downed, and a small smile touched his lips.

  “Nice to see you, Mr. Light.” His eyes lifted to meet mine. “I see my reputation has yet to precede me. That will change.”

  “If you say so.” I cuppe
d my hands over my bits. “In the meantime, why don't you tell me who the fuck you are?”

  His presence was so imposing his escorts might as well have left the room. In that moment, they didn't exist.

  “I am Detroit's new prefect,” the man said. “Ignazio Orosco.”

  I stared at him, mouth hanging open. “Are you serious?”

  His smile broadened. “Quite.”

  That kind of knocked me off my stride. Not at all what I had expected. Left me speechless while my thoughts raced to make sense of this weird situation.

  “I can tell you have many questions.”

  “A few.”

  “Let me cover the most obvious,” he said. He turned toward Lightning Bolt, whose tattooed pate shined in the chandelier's glow. “I'd like to sit, Elton.”

  Elton—though I preferred Lightning Bolt—nodded quickly, hurried to grab a metal framed chair at a nearby table, and scurried back with it. He set the chair directly behind Orosco, then speed-walked back to his spot ten feet off to one side.

  Orosco eased into the chair. Under the cover of his robe, he crossed one leg over another. He rested his folded hands in his lap. His gaze roved over my naked body again.

  “You have a nice physique,” he said. “Lean but hard. It's impossible to tell because of my robe, but I have a similar build. It's the kind of body that’s easily underestimated.”

  My face flushed under his scrutiny. “If you're done admiring me, maybe you could get back to those answers you owe me.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Owe you? No, Mr. Light. The only thing I owe you is a slow death. You have pissed me off more than once with your meddling. I almost didn't make it to my new position.”

  “Well, I'm sorry about that.”

  He hummed. “I'm sure you are. Anyway.” He smoothed his hands down his robe. “First question. Why have I brought you here?”

  He made it sound like he wanted me to provide the answer. “I haven't a clue.”

  “I want you, Sebastian. May I call you Sebastian?”

  I was too hung up on his words I want you to care what the hell he called me.

  He took my silence as permission. “Okay, then. Sebastian it is.” He pointed at me and smiled. “I'm like Uncle Sam. I want you.”