Desa Kincaid- Bounty Hunter

by R S Penney

  She turned around.

  Morley was on the floor, writhing in pain as his skin turned a deep, blistering red. His clothes caught fire, and within seconds, dark spots of charred flesh appeared all over his body. He was burning alive.

  Desa slumped over, her head drooping with fatigue. Sweat drenched her hair, fat droplets sliding down her forehead. “It's over,” she whispered. “Five long years hunting you, and you're finally-”

  The charred and blackened Morley sat up with a gasp. Then, to her shock, he got up and turned around to face her with a smile. “That all you got, bitch?” His voice sounded like cracking ice. “Aren't you listening? You can't kill me!”

  It only got worse when his burns began to heal. Scorched flesh turned red and then pink, and then finally resumed a pale flesh tone. Blisters shrank and shrank until they all vanished, leaving smooth flesh behind. Most of his clothing, now only blackened ashes, crumbled away, leaving only the top of his pants as a pair of ragged shorts.

  His mustache was gone, his eyebrows and hair as well, but he remained healthy and strong. “Come on then!” Morley said. “Let's finish it.”

  When she looked past Morley, she saw Marcus standing in the aisle behind him. It was clear that they could not win this fight. The same force that Bendarian had unleashed on the world had transformed Morley into something inhuman.

  Desa looked back at the city watchmen.

  They were clustered together near the bank's front entrance, all pale, all sweating, and one of them was praying for his life. “Run!” she screamed. “This is beyond you!”

  Desa used her Gravity-Sink.

  She jumped and kicked Morley's face, then twirled in the air and kicked him again with the other leg. The harsh crunch of a broken nose gave her a sense of satisfaction as Morley backed away.

  She landed in a crouch, reached into her pocket and slipped on the brass knuckles. “You want to fight me?” she hissed. “Come, then! Taste oblivion!”

  Morley snapped himself upright, blood dripping from his chin, and she was treated to the sickening sight of his nose literally snapping back into place. “I'll rip you to pieces, bitch!” And then he was charging toward her.

  He threw a wicked punch.

  Desa ducked and felt a whoosh of air passing over her head. She slammed her own fist into Morley's chest, and the brass knuckles released a dreadful blast of kinetic energy that lifted him off his feet.

  He was propelled backward through the aisle, flailing as he reached impotently for her. Seconds later, he dropped to the floor and skidded a few more paces, stopping just in front of Marcus.

  As expected, Marcus jumped and shot straight upward, unrestrained by the pull of gravity. He drew his pistol, spun the cylinder and then pointed his gun straight down at his enemy.

  The air split with the sound of thunder.

  Marcus's bullet didn't strike Morley but instead landed just in front of him. He roared with laughter. “Your aim is terrible, Field-Bind-” Morley cut off suddenly as streams of crackling blue lightning lashed out from the bullet. Some struck the pillars; some struck the ceiling, and some struck Morley.

  He screamed as electric current raced through his newly-healed flesh, scorching it all over again. It was the howl of a damned soul, the mournful wail of a man who felt a pain beyond words.

  Miraculously, none of the lightning hit Marcus, who hovered just a few short paces above Morley's head. The Infusion that he had crafted must have been designed to release electric energy at any nearby object but him, in much the same way that Desa's bracelet only took kinetic energy from objects that were coming toward her. That was some truly remarkable Field Binding. She would have to learn that trick.

  Thrusting his pistol out behind himself, Marcus fired one bullet into the wall. The kickback propelled him forward, over Morley and down the aisle toward Desa. When he got close, he dropped to the floor.

  Marcus stiffened. “That won't subdue him.”

  “We should run,” Desa agreed.

  They were rushing through the door without another word of discussion, bursting out onto a street with squat gray buildings on the other side. One or two had chimneys belching smoke into the sky.

  Desa and Marcus ran across the street, and with near-perfect synchronicity, they triggered their Gravity-Sinks and leaped. Free of the Earth's pull, they rose to the rooftop of the nearest building and landed there.

  Desa shut her eyes, sweat oozing from her pores. Her breath came in ragged gasps. “Do you believe me now?” she panted. “Do you see the danger Bendarian represents?”

  Marcus was bent over with his hands on his knees, grunting in irritation. “This isn't the time,” he said. “If we stay here, we die.”

  No sooner did he issue that warning then the sound of doors flying off their hinges startled them into turning around. In nothing but a tattered pair of shorts, Morley stood under the arch-shaped entryway of the bank. “You!” he shouted, thrusting a finger toward Desa. “This ends now!”

  Suddenly, he was bounding across the street.

  Desa broke into a sprint across the flat rooftop, trying to ignore the icy dread that squeezed her heart. When she neared the edge, she triggered her Gravity-Sink and leaped, flying across the gap in one long arc. Marcus followed a second later.

  She landed on the slanted roof of a townhouse and scrambled up its surface to the peak. There, she paused just long enough to look back. Morley was charging across the rooftop she had just left behind.

  Down the other side of the roof then. She half-fell, half-ran until she reached the ledge, and then she jumped. Once again, her belt buckle protected her from what would have been a nasty fall and carried her like a soaring falcon to the house across the street. She landed there and released her hold on gravity. Her buckle had nearly taken all the energy it could. A few more minutes of this, and she would be unable to leap from roof to roof. “We need a new plan.”

  Gasping on the edge of the slanted roof, Marcus looked back over his shoulder. “I do believe you're correct.”

  They ran to the peak, and Desa fished a bullet out of her coat's inner pocket. When she turned, she saw Morley rushing down the slope of the roof across the street, his bare feet leaving cracks in the tiles with every step. “Trigger your Gravity-Sink,” Desa said. “And leave it on until I tell you otherwise.”

  She did the same.

  Morley leaped from the roof's ledge without the aid of any Field Binding and flew across the street at blinding speed. He landed atop this new townhouse with enough force to send chunks of black tiles flying, then threw his head back and roared.

  “Men and their endless displays of aggression,” Desa muttered.

  She tossed the bullet and watched it pass over Morley's head to land in the street behind him. Then she triggered the Gravity-Source she had Infused into it. Morley was yanked backward by invisible hands, pulled down off the rooftop. He landed in the street with an ear-splitting bellow.

  “Time to go,” Desa said.

  They ran down the other side of the roof and leaped off, allowing gravity to reassert a sliver of its power and pull them to the ground. It also slowed their forward motion. The bullet was still pulling them backward.

  When they landed in the street, Marcus quickly pulled Desa into an alley. “Come,” he said. “We can't defeat him with force. Our only option is to hide and pray that he does not find us.”

  Once they were out of sight, Desa extinguished the Gravity-Source she had Infused into that bullet. Leaving it active was dangerous. It would pull on anything within range. Knives would fly off tables; people in nearby houses would be thrown into walls. Using a Gravity-Source was only a shade less risky than using an Electric-Source, but Morley had left her with no option. The man would have killed them both if she hadn't subdued him.

  They ran for the better part of an hour before Desa was convinced that Morley was no longer chasing them.

  Chapter 12

  The instant she passed through the door to the ro
om she shared with Miri, Desa took off her hat and tossed it onto her bed. She strode to the window, put her fists on her hips and shook her head. “Now, what do we do?” she muttered. “Morley has never had that much power before.”

  When she turned, Marcus was hunched over in the doorway with one hand on his stomach, breathing hard. “It was more than just raw power,” he said. “You must have felt it: the wrongness about him.”

  Desa sat down on the windowsill, crossed her arms and scowled at the floorboards. “I did indeed,” she muttered. “It was the same thing I felt on that farm.”

  “This man must die.”

  “And we can't kill him.”

  There was a scuffing sound as Marcus walked into the room, thrust out his chin and gave her what might have been a conciliatory glare. The man seemed to have a glare for every occasion. “I was wrong to oppose you,” he said. “This Morley must die before we can even entertain the idea of returning to Aladar.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So how do we go about it?”

  With an elbow on her knee, Desa covered her mouth with one hand. She closed her eyes and considered the question. “The entity that I encountered on the farm seems to be keeping Morley alive.”

  Marcus seated himself on the edge of her bed and then stared intently at something on the wall. “So, if we can sever his connection to it,” he began, “That might take away his strange powers.”

  “Or kill him outright.”

  They were cut off by the sound of someone knocking on the door, and when Desa gave permission to enter, Lommy came stumbling into the room...Tommy! Damn it, but Miri's strange nickname for the boy was becoming infectious.

  Tommy was panting, his face flushed and glistening as if he had just run up the four flights of stairs between this room and the saloon. “Did you hear?” he stammered. “Some hubbub in the market district.”

  “I'm afraid we did more than just hear of it,” Desa said.

  “We caused it,” Marcus added.

  For some reason, Tommy was ghostly pale after hearing that, but to his credit, the lad shut his eyes, caught his breath and took control of himself. “I should have reckoned as much,” he said. “So, what happened?”

  “We encountered Morley.”

  “And you killed him?”

  Grunting at the ache in her legs and back, Desa rose and marched forward to stand in front of him. She shook her head. “I'm afraid not. It seems that Morley cannot be killed by any means at your disposal.”

  “What do you mean, 'cannot be killed?'”

  She explained briefly about Morley being in contact with whatever had animated the gray people on the farm and watched the horror in Tommy's eyes swell to the point of outright panic. This time, the lad had to work a little harder to push down the fear, but he managed it.

  When he asked what they should do next, Desa was at a loss. If Morley had simply been invulnerable to most things that would kill an ordinary man, that would have been one thing. You could throw a man like that into a cell and leave him to rot. But Morley had also displayed feats of incredible strength. Could stone walls hold him?

  Desa would have said that they needed more Field Binders, but what good would that do when her best Infusions had only slowed Morley down. They had to find a way to cut him off from the entity.

  She and Marcus spent the better part of half an hour debating how to do that while Tommy listened without comment. The poor lad was probably wishing that he had stayed in his sleepy little village. For some people, a death sentence would be preferable to the horrors Tommy had seen.

  “Bendarian tried to Infuse people with the Ether,” Marcus said.

  “Yes.”

  “Do we know how he managed it?”

  Desa scrunched her eyes tight, then drew in a shuddering breath. “I don't think he did manage it,” she said. “This thing...whatever it is...It seemed to imply that it was not of our world.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means-”

  Before she could finish that sentence, the door swung inward to reveal a tall and slender woman standing in the hallway. This one was painfully beautiful in a white dress that left her shoulders bare. Her face was immaculate with a dimpled chin, hollow cheeks and deep blue eyes, and golden hair fell to the small of her back. “You are Desa Kincaid, I presume?”

  Desa felt rather foolish, sitting on the floor with her back to the wall and her legs stretched out. “Yes, and who might you be?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “More to the point, how did you know to find me here?”

  The woman glided into the room with the haughty air of someone who assumed that an invitation was a foregone conclusion. “My name is Adele Delarac,” she began. “I know what you did this morning.”

  “What I did?”

  “Let's not be coy, Mrs. Kincaid,” Adele said. “I am well aware of your skirmish with Morley. I knew the man before he was transformed into...whatever it is that he has become, and I found him odious then. Now, he is a threat to everyone in this city, and I can think no one better qualified to end that threat than you.”

  Marcus was on his feet in an instant, standing just behind Adele and glowering at the back of her head. “The relevant question,” he said, “is how you know so much. And why we should trust you.”

  A light touch of crimson flooded Adele's cheeks, but she nodded as if she had been expecting that question. “I am a Sensitive,” she said. “I have been in communion with the Ether since I was a little girl, and I have used it to keep watch on events in this city. Desa Kincaid, you are the only one who can stop Morley before he does more damage.”

  “A Sensitive?” Tommy inquired. No one bothered to answer his query.

  Desa stood up.

  In two quick strides, she was toe to toe with the other woman and looking up with a disapproving frown. “You seem to be very well informed, Miss Delarac,” she said. “What makes you think I can destroy Morley?”

  Adele closed her eyes and wilted like a dying flower. “I know that you are a Field Binder,” she answered. “I have watched you through the Ether.”

  “Then you know that my best efforts had no lasting effect on Morley. So, I will ask you again: why do you come to me?”

  “I have seen it in the Ether. You will destroy him.”

  Turning away from the other woman, Desa crossed her arms as she paced over to the wall. “You will forgive me if I don't take you at your word,” she said. “For all I know, you were sent here by Radharal Bendarian. There is nothing you have said that he could not have told you.”

  “No one despises Bendarian more than I do.”

  “How do you even know Bendarian?” Marcus demanded.

  That was a very good question indeed. Curiosity made Desa turn around, and when she did so, she was surprised to find that Adele was quite flustered. The woman shuffled about as if she wasn't entirely sure what to do with herself. “Perhaps you have noticed my surname,” she said at last. “Delarac. As in Mayor Timothy Delarac. I am his niece.”

  “That doesn't answer my question,” Marcus insisted.

  In the corner of her eye, Desa saw Tommy standing by the window and scratching his chin as he considered Adele's story. The boy seemed to have formed an opinion, but he wasn't willing to share it.

  Adele just stood there with her arms hanging and her eyes fixed upon the pointed toes of her leather boots. “My uncle frequently hosts parties for the city's aristocracy,” she said. “Bendarian is often in attendance.”

  Well...It was a start. At least, now, Desa had some idea of where she might find the man, but the fact that Bendarian had been ingratiating himself with the city's elites did not bode well. It suggested that his plans were large enough in scope to necessitate a sizable financial backing.

  “So, we ambush him outside one of these parties,” Marcus suggested.

  “No,” Desa cut in before anyone else could speak. “The probability that innocent people will get caught in the crossfire is much too h
igh. Our goal should be to discover Bendarian's current place of residence.”

  “And confront him there?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Adele popped open her handbag, retrieved a small slip of paper and handed it to Desa. The note was only an address written in smooth, flowing script, an address in the city's northwestern quarter unless Desa missed her guess. “My uncle has sent Bendarian no small amount of correspondence,” she said. “I was able to procure that easily.”

  Desa looked up to study the woman, then narrowed her eyes. “How convenient,” she said. “I suppose that if I were to go to this place, I would find Bendarian completely unprepared for my arrival?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She means it's a trap,” Marcus said bluntly. The man stepped up behind Adele and brought his lips to her ear. “Desa is correct; this is too convenient.”

  Adele shuddered when she felt his breath on her cheek. “I only want to help,” she said. “Please, you must believe me.”

  “I think, Miss Delarac, that you should be on your way now.” Desa's voice wasn't just cold; it was a blast of frigid air. “My friends and I have much to discuss.”

  “Do you think she'll go?” Sebastian asked.

  Bathed in sunlight that came through the window, Tommy sat on the edge of his bed with his hands on his knees. He shook his head and grunted in response. Who could say what Desa Kincaid would do? Or why she would do it?

  Sebastian was leaning against the wall next to the window, tapping his pant leg and staring vacantly at nothing at all. “That is what she wants to do, isn't it?” he went on. “Go off to kill this Bendarian character?”

  “I don't know what she wants.”

  “You were there.”

  Tommy flopped back onto the feather mattress and blinked at the ceiling. “Indeed I was,” he said. “For all the bloody good it did. There were several points where I was sure they had forgotten about me.”

  Sebastian turned his back, braced his hands upon the windowsill and bent forward to peer through the glass. “Is that such a bad thing?” he muttered. “Let her forget us. We can be on our way.”