Hell's Bell

by Keri Arthur

  “Even if they are combining in the manner you describe, that doesn’t explain your comment about our overall abilities.” I somehow managed to keep my voice even despite the uneasy certainty that this would bring my parents—or at least their representative—to the reservation. “No matter what way you look at it, two quarters does not make a whole.”

  “No, it shouldn’t, and yet here, with you two, it does.”

  Meaning if we are hauled up in front of the High Council, we could make your parents eat every damn mean word they ever said about you and me.

  While that’s an admittedly appealing thought, I have no desire to either see them again or get dragged back to Canberra and be studied like lab rats.

  With that last bit, I agree.

  I glanced at her. But?

  She half smiled. But it would be nice to be finally free to see my family again.

  Guilt stirred. My inadequacy—and my fears about what my parents might force me to do if they found me again—was the reason behind her lost contact. It might have been a joint decision to run, but it was Belle who’d paid the greater price.

  We couldn’t have stayed there and remained sane. And I certainly could not have stood by and watched you get abused six ways to Sunday, Belle commented. Even my mom agreed it was better for us to leave and go into hiding for a while.

  Which still didn’t make it any easier on her. I returned my gaze to Ashworth. “I think you’re seriously overestimating—”

  “I have never doubted what I see or sense, and I have no reason to do so now,” he cut in. “You two are a puzzle I very much intend to figure out—but not right now. We have a witch to hunt down first.”

  “Then go. Belle and I can walk back—”

  “Seriously?” Aiden said. “You want to have that argument again?”

  I hesitated, and then shook my head. “You will let us know what happens tonight when you get the chance, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then escort away.”

  “Here I was expecting an almighty argument,” he said. “I’m gathering Belle talked you out of it?”

  “No, although as I’ve said before, she is the more sensible of the two of us.”

  “That is a somewhat scary thought given what I know of her.”

  “You have absolutely no need to be scared,” Belle said. “And Lizzie only goes off the rails once or twice a year; it’s quite fun to watch when it happens.”

  “I think there’s a story or two in that comment,” he replied, amused.

  “And not ones you’ll be hearing anytime soon.” I grabbed the backpack and then followed Belle into the main room.

  “Unless, of course, you bribe me with chocolate and pink bubbles,” Belle commented.

  Aiden’s grin widened. “I shall requisition them ASAP.”

  He locked the station door and then escorted us across to the truck. Ashworth climbed into the back seat while Belle and I claimed the front. The café was only a block away, so it didn’t take us long to get there.

  “I might not get to the café tomorrow,” he said, as he pulled to a halt. “Just depends on the time we finish up tonight, and what leads we get.”

  I nodded, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. Except he moved, his lips caught mine, and the kiss became something far more intense—and far more delicious.

  He broke away with a slight groan. “You’d better go, before I do something I might regret.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought sex in a truck would be something you’d ever regret,” Belle said casually.

  “It’s the audience rather than the truck I’m referring to,” he said. “And please stop reading my thoughts.”

  She grinned. “I wasn’t. I didn’t need to, given all the—shall we say—body language?”

  He rolled his eyes, leaned across, and opened the door. “Go. And make sure you lock all the damn doors.”

  We climbed out, but as he disappeared around the corner, magic stirred around us. Wild magic.

  And it was filled with an odd sort of warning.

  Belle frowned. “Why is it here, in the middle of the town, of all places?”

  “I don’t know.” I scanned the street, but couldn’t see the threat the wild magic seemed to be hinting at. “But given the last time it randomly appeared someone shot out my tire, we might want to get inside.”

  Belle hastily opened the door, but neither of us immediately went in. While anyone intending us harm wouldn’t have gotten past the spells surrounding this place, caution never hurt. The window blinds were partially closed, allowing little of the moonlight to filter in, leaving the café area a wasteland of shadows and darkness. But even so, the place was obviously empty, and there was no sense of trespass humming along the magical lines. We went in.

  The wild magic whipped in after us, swirled around, and then moved back to the door. When we didn’t move, it repeated the process, this time more urgently.

  It wanted us to close the door.

  I frowned, but did so. No sooner had I done that than something hit it.

  Hit it, and went straight through it.

  “What the fuck...?” I glanced up and saw the hole.

  A bullet hole.

  Holy shit... another shooter was out there.

  I dove away from the door, hitting my hip against the wall and grunting in pain as I knocked Belle away and down. Then, as one, we scrambled on hands and knees around the corner to safety.

  Another bullet ripped through the old wooden door, smashed through a small vase, and sent pottery shards flying everywhere before burying itself in the wall opposite.

  “I’m getting a bit pissed off with people shooting up our door and our walls,” Belle said.

  “At least this shooter didn’t bring down the shelf holding all our cups. Any idea where he or she is?”

  Her gaze narrowed as she telepathically searched the area. “He’s on a rooftop across the street, but three buildings down.”

  “Can you get him?”

  “He’s just beyond my control range. I can sense him, but that’s it.”

  “Is it our dark witch?”

  “Why would a witch capable of calling and controlling a soul eater resort to shooting someone?”

  “Why would Larissa attempt to kill me just because I was trying to find her? Why the fuck would Molly think killing her rivals would get her back into Maelle’s good graces? It’s pretty obvious we’re dealing with several people who hid behind the door when the smarts were handed out.”

  “All very true.” She paused. “He’s a hired gun, I think.”

  “I don’t suppose you can ferret out who hired him?”

  “That requires going deeper into his mind, and I need to be closer to do that.”

  Or he needed to be closer. As in, immobilized and under our control. “Is there anyone else around?”

  “No one that means us any harm.”

  “Right.” I scrambled up and ran for the rear door. Let me know if he moves.

  Be careful.

  I have no intentions of getting dead just yet. I still have a ranger to seduce.

  Speaking of, do you want me to give him a call?

  I hesitated. While it was important he and Ashworth find the dark sorcerer, it was also possible the shooter could lead them directly to him. You’d better, just in case.

  I opened the back door and raced into the parking lot. The moon’s brightness flowed in and out of a stream of clouds, providing a vague, intermittent light, but there was still enough about to see and avoid the various potholes in the old bitumen.

  I ran to the other end of the parking area, hauled my ass over the fence, and then continued along the lane that ran along the side of the old theater. Once I was in Hargraves Street, I moved back to Mostyn and paused in the doorway of the Subway on the corner.

  Any movement? I cautiously peered around. The street was quiet and the rooftops dark.

  Nope. He’s still in the same position. Not sure
what he’s waiting for, given for all he knows, we’re settling in for the night.

  I’m not liking the feel of this situation.

  That makes two of us. She hesitated. Maybe you should come back here and let Aiden—

  No, I cut in. The wild magic is urging me forward, not back. I have no idea why, but we can’t afford to ignore her.

  Given she’s saved your butt a couple of times now, that’s probably wise. Belle paused. I’ll go upstairs and turn on a light. Hopefully that will keep his attention on the café rather than anything else.

  Keep well away from the windows.

  I’ll hover in the stairwell. He won’t even see me.

  I waited until the moon disappeared behind a cloud again, and then raced across the road. I didn’t stop once I was under the cover of the building’s awning, but kept going up Hargraves Street. Once I’d reached the small laneway that led to the parking area behind the pizza shop, I paused and quickly scanned the lane, looking for a way up onto the roof. I found it on the second building—a small fire escape with a metal bin very handily placed right underneath it.

  It’s probably how our shooter got onto the nearby roof.

  I’d say so. I very carefully stepped up onto the bin, reached for the ladder, and began to climb. It creaked slightly under my weight, and I froze. Belle?

  No movement his end. You’re safe.

  Relief stirred, but I still waited another few seconds before I started moving again. I reached the top, pulled myself over the small wall, and dropped down onto the roof. Aside from a sprouting army of antennas, and an air-con unit that had seen better days, the area was empty.

  I padded over to the wall dividing this building from the next, and carefully peered over. Aside from yet more antennas, there were also a couple of long lounge chairs on this rooftop. No bad guy holding a gun, however.

  He’s on the next roof.

  I carefully climbed over to the next roof. Metal skittered from under one foot, and the noise seemed as loud as thunder. The wild magic stirred, this time holding both censure and urgency.

  He’s headed your way. Find cover.

  There is no fucking cover. Nothing other than those damn lounges, anyway. With little other choice, I kept low and raced across to them.

  Almost on you, Belle warned.

  I dropped down and lay prone next to the lounge, hoping like hell the shadows were thick enough to hide my hair. But if the moon came out from behind the cloud, the crimson color would give me away in an instant.

  I held my breath and waited. For several seconds, nothing happened, and then I heard it—a soft scrape.

  Just that, nothing more.

  Tension wound through me and for several seconds, I didn’t dare even breathe.

  Nothing happened. The moon didn’t come back out, and the shooter didn’t come over the wall to investigate.

  Okay, he’s moving back, Belle said.

  I closed my eyes and sucked air into my burning lungs. That had been close.

  But the danger wasn’t over yet. Not for me, not for Belle. Not if the growing urgency in the wild magic was anything to go by.

  Something was about to happen. Something bad.

  Belle, get out of the café. Now.

  She didn’t answer but she did respond. Her fear surged through me, and though I couldn’t see her, I knew she was bolting for the back door. I rose and padded toward the next dividing wall, remaining low and gathering the threads of an immobilizing spell around my fingers.

  I’m out in the parking lot.

  Even as she said that, two things happened.

  The warning in wild magic peaked.

  And the café exploded into flames.

  Chapter Thirteen

  For several seconds I didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

  Shock held me immobile as the force of the explosion lit up the entire area and washed heat across the rooftops.

  “You bastard!” Even as the words were torn from my throat, I thrust upright and flung the spell at him.

  He spun around, and I caught a glimpse of something glittery at his neck. Then he raised the rifle and fired again.

  I instantly dropped down; the bullet pinged off the top of the wall just above my head, sending concrete shards spinning. Then he was running—coming at me rather than away.

  I closed my eyes and did the one thing I’d sworn not to do again—I reached for the wild magic. It would take too long to craft a spell powerful enough to get past the charm he was wearing—and, even then, there was no guarantee my magic or my knowledge would be capable of such a feat.

  But there was little defense against the wild magic, as few witches had ever dared to do more than protect it. Those who had attempted to use it had either died or come close to it—such as my mother.

  Why I seemed to be the exception, I had no idea. And, right now, didn’t care.

  It answered my call swiftly, almost joyously—a white-hot heat that surged through my body with such force that for a moment it felt as if I would tear apart.

  In an instant, everything was sharper, brighter; I could hear his footsteps, smell the faint musky pine scent of him on the air. Hear the whisper of his breathing, and taste his anticipation of the kill.

  This wasn’t a result of the wild magic. This was Katie—or rather, her ghostly werewolf capabilities sharpening mine.

  I waited until he was close; until his anticipation, amusement, and the certainty of an easy kill were thick and heavy on the air.

  Only then did I set the magic free. “Pin him,” I said, “and tear that gun from his grip.”

  From the other side of the wall came a strangled sound of surprise, then nothing but an odd sense of satisfaction.

  I rose. The shooter was being held—arms and legs akimbo—three feet off the rooftop. His gun lay a good ten feet away from him and had, from the look of it, not only been made safe, but actually snapped in two. The wild magic—and Katie—was a little pissed at the shooter. I suspected the only reason it hadn’t also snapped the shooter in half was because it couldn’t react against life without being ordered to do so.

  And I wouldn’t order this man’s death, no matter how angry I was. To do so could adversely stain the wild magic forever.

  Belle, you okay? I climbed over the wall and strode toward our captive.

  Yes, but the back half of the upper floor is on fire.

  Is it bad?

  Not at the moment, she said. It depends on how soon the fire brigade gets here as to whether the damage will spread.

  Didn’t your grandmother teach you a fire prevention spell?

  Yes, but the key word is prevention rather than restriction. I’ll try and adapt it.

  I stopped in front of the stranger, reached up, and pulled the charm from his neck. Energy burned across my fingers even as it whispered its secrets to me. The spell that had been bound to the agate was powerful—possibly more so than anything I could conjure—but the practitioner had made one mistake. He hadn’t protected it against physical assault.

  I dropped it onto the rooftop and smashed it under my heel.

  “Who are you?” I demanded. “And why the fuck are you trying to kill us?”

  He spat at me. I sidestepped the globule and then said mildly, “Try that again, and the magic that holds you will rip you apart, just as it ripped your gun apart.”

  His gaze darted sideways, and a trace of uneasiness entered his expression. He remained mute, however.

  I sighed. “Okay then, we do this the hard way.”

  I flicked my wrist and the wild magic responded, pulling his legs further apart. The minute he screamed, it stopped.

  “Right, shall we try this again?” I crossed my arms and studied him. And was aware that, over his right shoulder, the flames consuming our building were reaching even higher. I clenched my fists and fought the instinct to lash out at him. It was an instinct that was as much Katie’s as mine. “Why are you trying to kill us?”

  Sweat was now rolli
ng down his face, and his expression was one of agony. But then, it was a rare man who could comfortably do the splits without hurting himself.

  The sound of fast-approaching sirens broke the silence. I hoped like hell they could stop the fire before it destroyed the building and most of our belongings.

  “You have one minute to answer. If you don’t, I’ll make you pay for shooting at me and destroying our café.”

  He didn’t speak.

  “Fifty seconds,” I said, then, “Thirty—”

  The wild magic stirred, and his legs were very briefly pulled wider apart.

  “Okay, okay,” he all but howled. “It was revenge. I was sent here for revenge.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “By whom?”

  “The Fitzgeralds over in Pike’s Peak.”

  Meaning Belle had not only been right, but my misreading of them had very nearly gotten us both killed.

  Hey, neither of us really expected those bastards would have the courage to hit back like this, so don’t you be heading down guilt road.

  Easier said than done when I could still see the flames of destruction leaping high.

  I’ve managed to corral them to the top of the stairs and the kitchenette. Everything else is safe, and the smoke is being funneled out the hole in the roof.

  There’s a hole in the roof?

  From the explosion. She paused. Aiden’s just appeared.

  And?

  He’s pissed you went after the shooter without waiting for him. She paused again. Ashworth said he’d put out the flames. It’ll save us from water damage, at the very least.

  But not save us from losing customers and money at one of the busiest time of the year. Still, we were both alive and most of the café was intact, so we had a lot to be grateful for.

  All of which didn’t ease the anger still bubbling inside.

  I returned my attention to my prisoner. “How did you manage to set the café on fire when you didn’t go anywhere near it?”

  “A couple of days ago, I was part of a team that was cleaning out the guttering next door. It was easy enough to lop an incendiary device onto your roof from there.”

  Which explained why our magic hadn’t reacted or stopped him—it didn’t work against inanimate objects.