With my claws, I slice at the wires, trying to break free.
Below, the footsteps race across the basement and toward the massive hole I made.
As I free myself from the wires, a giant fireball blows up underneath me, lighting the hole on fire. The tips of my hair sizzle and burn off, but I roll away in time.
“Way to go, jackass!” I shout, pounding my fist against the floor. “Burn the house to the ground, why don’t you?”
What is he thinking? If the talisman is hidden somewhere inside the house, or worse, underground, then destroying this place won’t do anyone any favors.
At this point, the only thing I care about is getting the book to safety. As I kick away the last stubborn wire, heavy footsteps come barging up the basement stairs, so I dart through the kitchen, make my way up to the second floor, and run back into Adam’s room.
The footsteps follow me, but I can outrun a witch any day.
With the book held firmly against my chest, I jump out through the window and extend my wings. Right when I’m about to flap them downward, a blinding flash disorients me, and something hard hits me in the back. I try to get away, but my wings aren’t working. It’s almost as if they’re paralyzed.
And the next thing I know, I’m falling headfirst toward the ground.
Chapter 19
──────────
Branches and leaves scrape the skin of my bare ass as I climb out of the shrubs. That witch scorched off all of my clothes.
When I stand up, something feels off.
Why is everything crooked? Why am I staring at Adam’s pool as if it were installed vertically on a wall?
Slowly, I reach for my face.
Damn it.
Where my forehead used to be is my right cheek. That prick broke my neck.
The pain doesn’t bother me so much—it’s knowing that if I weren’t immortal, he would have killed me. That’s enough to make me want to go back in there and tear his throat out with my claws.
But it’s too risky. Besides, it’s better this way—he’ll think I’m dead, which means he might just leave me alone. With both hands, I grab my chin and the top of my head and yank sideways as hard as I can.
My bones snap back into place.
I’m about to jump into the air for takeoff when a sharp pain shoots from my ankle up to my knee.
Seriously? A broken neck wasn’t enough? Looking down, I catch a glimpse of a bone sticking right out of my shin. With my other leg, I give it a good kick and it snaps back in.
The skin will heal over within a few minutes.
Now it’s time to get the hell out of here.
I step forward, but my big toe smashes into something hard.
Where am I? A garden?
Around me are roses, tulips, hostas, and decorative statues lined up against a brick wall. Throughout the fresh red mulch are three garden gnomes—the famous proverbial principle of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.
The three gnomes wear green pointed hats and have stone gray beards full of intricate designs. Their bright blue shoes stand out the most.
While all three of them are astonishing to look at, it’s the gnome who represents Speak no evil that draws me in. His eyes, two blue sapphires, glimmer under the moonlight’s glow as I move closer. For a moment, the left eye shines a faint pink, and I find myself wanting to pluck it from its face.
Whatever that is, it isn’t a decorative eye.
It couldn’t be what everyone’s looking for, could it? Would it be hiding in plain sight like that?
Rubbing my chin, I realize that if this is the Heart of Danu, then hiding it in his garden may have been the smartest thing Adam Shaw ever did. Who would think to look here?
I bend down and reach for the gnome when a witch’s voice echoes behind me.
“Stop right there.”
Well isn’t this awkward? I’m bent over, my bare ass giving him a free show, and I imagine his wand is aimed right at me—his magical wand, I mean.
“Stand up… slowly.”
His voice sounds strained, and I’m betting it’s because I broke a few ribs with that two-by-four. Serves him right.
If he thinks I’m submitting to his commands, he’s delusional. I’m getting out of here with the Book of Origin and the Heart of Danu. The question is… how?
If I grab the gnome and take off, chances are he’ll shoot me right out of the sky again.
So instead, I grab the See no evil gnome and in one hard swing, throw it straight at the bastard’s head. It explodes into hundreds of pieces the moment it hits his face, and he stumbles back with arms flailing in front of him.
I snatch both remaining gnomes and launch myself into the air. Below, he reaches for his eyes, no doubt trying to dig out pieces of gnome, and for good measure… I throw the Hear no evil gnome at the top of his head.
He stiffens like he’s about to keel over and I laugh. “Bet ya didn’t see that coming, motherfucker!”
* * *
With the Book of Origin in one hand and Adam’s gnome in the other, I land on the rooftop of my apartment building. While I shouldn’t make a habit of entering my place through the roof’s emergency exit, sometimes it’s the only way to go about it.
When I enter my apartment, Drax is standing in the kitchen, frying himself what smells like a grilled cheese sandwich.
“You’re home,” he says, his voice tight. “Where the hell have you been?”
Panting, I ignore him, rush into my bedroom, and start scavenging through my closet. I manage to slip on a pair of pants and a hoodie before Drax sees me naked. Personally, I don’t care who sees me naked, but I know it makes him uncomfortable.
He follows me with his sandwich in hand and Mr. Mushroom clawing at his leg. Mr. Mushroom’s jaw snaps shut and he swallows hard.
“Did you just feed my dog?” I ask, looking over my shoulder.
“No,” Drax lies. “What’re you looking for? And what do you have in your hands?”
“Something I shouldn’t,” I admit, kicking aside a pile of three-week-old laundry. I plow through a bag of giveaway clothes, a comforter I never use, and a box of shoes and leather boots I have yet to organize.
“There you are,” I say, reaching for my metal chest.
After being emotionally exhausted by that witch and shot in the ass by the other witch, I don’t have the energy to pull it out. So instead, I open the cover and toss the Book of Origin and the gnome inside. The gnome shatters, not that it matters. What’s important is what’s attached to its eye.
Behind me, Drax swallows the rest of his sandwich and cranes his neck. “You’re using your Cloak Chest? You haven’t used that thing in—”
“Yeah, I’m using it,” I say sharply.
Slamming the lid shut, I snap the latches and lock the five different bolts into place. I stole this chest—something known as a Cloak Chest—a few decades ago from some independently owned witchcraft shop in downtown New York.
Looking back, stealing from a witch might have been idiotic, but I didn’t have any money yet, and I needed to hide a relic I also stole from the shop. It appears the magic surrounding this chest hides any item inside from any form of tracking or locating spells.
I let that relic sit in there for about five years before selling it to a Gorton demon. I made a pretty penny, so the wait was worth it.
“What’s so important you have to conceal it with magic?” he asks.
I straighten out, plant both hands hips, and let out a sharp breath. “The Book of Origin. Oh, and the Heart of Danu.”
His hairless brows almost touch. “You’re joking, right?”
“Wish I were, Drax. It’s a long story. Some little witch pulled me out of San Halos. I found this book in her room, so I took it. It belonged to her dead grandmother. It’s not like she needed it. It would have gotten her killed. If you ask me, I did her a favor. Then this witch tells me about the Heart of Danu, some super powerful talisman she traced back to Ada
m’s house… And, well, I found it at Adam’s house. A total fluke. I was more interested in getting out of there with this book. I can’t believe I managed to find the talisman, too. What a night.”
I raise a fist to offer a toast with my invisible glass of wine.
Drax’s mouth flattens into a straight line. “You stole from a kid?”
“A teenager,” I respond. “And, yeah, I did. That thing’s too dangerous for her.”
This is a new low for you, Alexis.
“But it’s safe for you,” he says, “a demon who knows nothing about magic.”
Scowling at him, I straighten my stance. “I’ve been around long enough to know a thing or two about magic.”
A thing or two is pretty spot-on.
He scoffs. “You know about magic. You’re not a witch, Alex. Magic isn’t your specialty. And I can’t believe you stole—”
“Can you find me a buyer? I bet I can make a lot of money off this.”
“For the book, or for the talisman?” he asks.
I brush past him and make my way over to my bottle of Dragon’s Tear. “Both. And not now. Let’s wait a few months. But I’ll take a down payment.” I pop the cork and take three shots worth.
He doesn’t seem too impressed with me. Tilting his head, as if this will somehow allow him to better understand how my brain operates, he crosses his thick arms over his chest. “Let me get this straight… You stole some kid’s book—”
“Teen.”
“Some teen’s book… Something that meant a lot to her. Then she tells you about this talisman, or whatever… something she’s been trying to find for herself, and you steal that, too.”
“Technically, I didn’t steal it.” I point a finger upward. “It used to belong to Adam Shaw, and now that he’s out of the picture, it was anyone’s game. And to be honest, I’m the reason he’s gone, so it’s only fair—”
“You stole to make a profit,” he cuts me off. “Which one is it, Alex? Do you even care about protecting this kid, or was it all for the money? If this thing is so dangerous, why the fuck would you want to put it back out into the world?”
I stare at him, then shift my eyes to the side as if to say, Am I missing something, or are you a total moron?
“Um, yeah… I steal, Drax. You know that. Why the fuck else would I take it? It doesn’t do me any good.”
I realize that in one breath I said stealing the book was about protecting Rachel, and in another stated I wanted to sell it to make a profit. Sometimes, I even confuse myself. Especially lately. Squinting my eyes, I take a good look at the bottle of whiskey in my hand.
Did I take more than three shots?
Drax’s jaw loosens. I don’t get why he’s so upset about this. I’ve done far worse things than steal a goddamn book and some fancy little gem.
“I don’t know, Alex.” He shakes his head. “For a second there, I thought you were being honest when you said you took it to protect the girl from getting hurt. Then, I hoped maybe the deeper reason was that you’d taken it to protect the whole world from being fucking obliterated by some maniacal witch.” His tone becomes sharp. “Or did you even think about that? Did you ever stop to think about the damage that book and talisman could cause in the wrong hands? You’d think after going what you went through—”
“This is business, Drax. Besides, you’re overreacting. Find a decent buyer, and we’ll be fine. All I care about is paying my bills on time.”
“You have a five-million-dollar job!” he shouts, shaking the walls of my apartment. “What more do you want?”
I put the bottle of whiskey down before it cracks in my fist. “I’m not doing that job.”
“You told Jamieson—”
“I know what I fucking told him, okay? I needed the advance, that’s it. So find me a goddamn buyer so I can pay him back the advance and drop the job.”
With nostrils flared so wide they take on the shapes of ovals, Drax sucks in a slow, calculated breath. His chest heaves like it’s on the verge of exploding and his eyes turn into menacing yellow slits.
He rarely gets mad, but when he does, it’s scary and I know I’ve crossed a line. But I’m not the type to back down, even against him.
So I stand there, glaring back as Mr. Mushroom cowers away and plops down onto his memory foam bed.
“Go find your own buyer,” Drax growls, throwing something small and hard at my face.
I catch it before it hits me in the eye and open my palm to find a key… What the heck is this? It’s encased in a black plastic shell and has a red triangular-shaped button that reads, Ducati.
“What’s this?” I ask.
With gritted teeth, he says, “Your drinking problem.”
Chapter 20
──────────
The power in this thing—the satisfying purr between my legs—makes me want to feed.
With a spin of the handle, I take off through the streets of downtown San Halos, zooming past cars and flipping off those who honk at me. There are a handful of reasons why I could get pulled over for riding this bad boy, including my inability to obey speed limits, but I don’t give a shit.
Let the police try to catch me. It wouldn’t be the first time I evade the cops on a motorcycle. It’s become a bit of an art, and I have yet to get caught.
I drive for hours until traffic lightens and stores start locking their doors.
Finally, I reach Gray Stone Park—San Halos’s most hidden gem, in my opinion. During the day, the place is shaded with hundreds of sugar and flower bushes that run along the San Halos river.
At night, however, most people avoid the place. It tends to fill up with the kind of people most noble citizens try to avoid. Some nights, when I can’t sleep or when my mind’s racing a mile a minute, I come here.
Okay, I fly here, which I should stop doing, but now that I have myself a shiny new bike, I’ll be able to come more often without the risk of being spotted in the sky. I park my bike next to a weeping willow tree, turn off the ignition, and slip the key into my back pocket.
The air around me is fresh and crisp, and the cloudless night sky lights up the tops of the trees with thousands of floating stars. I make my way along the stone path and breathe in the river’s cool scent.
In the distance, a few rowdy young guys heckle each other, no doubt drunk out of their minds. While drunken guys tend to cause trouble for me, they aren’t difficult to deal with. A few elbows to their noses is enough to send them packing.
It’s still annoying, though, and I’m not in the mood tonight. Luckily, they’re standing under the park’s pedestrian bridge and nowhere near where I’m headed.
Right now, all I want is peace and quiet so I can figure out what the fuck to do about this Veerka woman, Clock Dragon, and the new items I’ve collected. Closing my eyes, I tune out the rambunctious group and instead, focus on the sound of my feet against the ground, leaves rustling overhead, and crickets singing in the distance.
For a moment, a sense of calmness washes over me, but all of that vanishes when I hear something that’s far from peaceful. From the river’s bend comes a woman’s shrill cry. I’ve heard that sound more times than I can count in my lifetime—it’s the cry of someone who’s being attacked.
It’s not your business, Alexis.
People get attacked in San Halos all the time. Why is it my job to save them? I’m not a cop. I have better things to do.
You really are selfish.
I grind my teeth at my inner dialogue. Being selfish is what’s kept me alive all this time.
Selfish.
Irritated, I empty my lungs and dart toward the woman. She screams again, and the sound of skin slapping skin echoes throughout the park.
I approach a group of six or seven men and women standing in a circle with rounded backs and mouths wide open. A terrifying growl escapes the tallest of the gang, and he moves into the circle, his pale skin and blond hair looking white under the overhead lamp post.
/> He reaches down and the woman screams again, but this doesn’t seem to bother him. Abruptly, he yanks upward, lifting her into the air by her frail wrist. She kicks back and forth, her mouth a gaping black hole.
Then, with a devilish red glow in his eyes, he opens his mouth so wide it’s a wonder his jaw doesn’t unhinge. The woman squirms and squeals like a mouse as his sharp, glistening fangs move toward her neck.
Fucking vampires.
How is this even possible? Asmodeus has a strict policy regarding vampires and visibility. Vampires are always to remain out of sight and they are forbidden from feeding off humans unless those humans are raised in an underground feeding farm.
That’s been the law since 1939.
“Hey!” I shout just in time.
Slowly, he turns his head, a menacing purr slipping past his lips.
At the same time, the rest of the vampires turn on me, their lips pulled back over their fangs. I realize that I’m doing what I swore I’d never do again—confronting vampires. But how can I not? They’re about to tear her to shreds. Although I try to convince myself that I don’t give a shit about feebles, I can’t sit around and watch one be mauled to death.
I take a step toward them. “Let her go.”
Without breaking eye contact, the leader of the vampire pack throws her onto a bed of pine needles. She whimpers as she lands hard on her back, but I’m too preoccupied with the vampire moving toward me to worry about her injuries.
I’m suddenly reminded of the vampires I slaughtered after Jamal’s death.
“You’re about to make my day a whole lot better,” I say through gritted teeth.
I reach for the nearest branch I can find, tear it right off the tree, and snap it in two. It breaks apart sharp enough to mimic stakes, and the second they’re close, I whip out my wings and reveal my true self.
Three of them take a step when it’s clear I’m not some little feeble.
The tallest of the pack comes at me first with a bowed head and balls of blood for eyes. He frowns, his furrowed brows darkening his face even more. I have no doubt he’s the strongest of the group. Once I take him out, the rest of these cockroaches should be pieces of cake.
Mortal Blow: An Urban Fantasy Series (Succubus Hitwoman Book 1) Page 11