Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  Anger came with it to add to the flow of emotion he felt from Diana that had pushed against his mental barriers for the last half-minute. Now was clearly not the time to focus on retaining his smaller size. This particular opponent required his full capabilities. The troll surrendered to the flow and rose slowly to his feet.

  Everything diminished as he grew to his full size. The Velcro tabs on his vest separated, and the two halves fell away.

  Emerson. Good design.

  His belt parted in the same fashion and fell from his hips. The witch propelled a force bolt at him that struck solidly. His chest hurt but the attack did little damage. Gunshots and breaking glass erupted above, and she threw a hasty shield up to intercept the new and unexpected attack. He waved at Tony and grinned. The investigator had found another way through and now had the woman pinned in place with well-timed bullets. Rath bared his fangs and stalked forward with cold deliberation.

  The color seeped from the witch’s face as she cast two more blasts at him. He chose to dodge rather than meet the attack head-on. The truth was that he hadn’t practiced enough with this larger size to engage in real acrobatics and so he twisted aside rather than engage in his usual fighting style.

  By the time he reached her, she had adapted her magical construct into a longsword. The troll was not afraid. The weapon was a no greater threat than the knife had been to his smaller form. She swung wildly and he stepped through her guard to seize her arm and stare into her eyes. He enjoyed the moment as fear twined into her expression for only an instant. Then, his fist collided with her face and the thin woman sagged in a boneless heap.

  He turned toward Diana’s fight as Cara flashed past him in a run.

  The last wizard now circled away from Diana but continued to launch balls of shadow in a relentless attack. Her deflectors were all dark or shattered, and she cried out in pain as one of the orbs curved in the air to follow her evasive maneuver and strike her shoulder. She spun like she’d been punched by a troll twice his size and folded over the table, then fell back. There was no time for subtlety. Rath rocketed forward to intercept the mage as the man went in for the kill, but Cara beat him to it.

  With a shout that snapped Rath’s head around, she hauled her hand back and flicked it forward at her side with her fingers outstretched. Five glowing darts erupted. The troll had enough time as they traveled to realize they were composed of compressed fire that flickered a bright red and orange. They struck the mage in the spine, and the way he arched and screamed suggested that there was both force and burning involved. The wand slid from his fingers as he fell to roll desperately in an effort to smother the flames. The wounds themselves were already seared shut, but the darts continued to burn.

  Diana staggered to her feet and kicked him in the head as the last flames flickered and died. She turned to Cara, her face streaked by the beads of sweat that trickled over the dirt. Fresh tear-streaks washed some of the grit away from her cheeks. She choked out a hoarse, “Thank you.”

  "Are you okay?" Tony called over the comms. She gave him a thumbs-up. Now that they had line of sight, the private network’s backup seemed able to activate. “I won’t jump unless you have magic that will make it non-bone-breaking.”

  She laughed, then gasped and hissed in pain. “Maybe Rath could catch you. What do you think, big guy?”

  The troll grinned and shook his head. “Probably could, but bad idea. Might drop. Tony’s breakable. Here, you look like you need this.” He tossed her a healing potion.

  “That stuff’s not easy to make. We only use it in emergencies.”

  “Have you gotten a good look at yourself?”

  Diana sighed, made a painful circuit of the room to collect the fallen wands, and limped to stand by the door. She caught the rifle Cara threw to her. “Okay. See if you can get down to us some other way. We’ll move on.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  They reached the secure room in the same moment that the heavy round door swung open.

  It’s like a bank vault in a fifties movie. Bizarre.

  The five enemies present turned to face them. Diana categorized them instantly based on body language. Two moved to protect the other two, and that pair drifted toward the central figure in the arrangement. The leader, seconds in command, and their seconds. She shouted, “Down on the floor—now!”

  They didn’t comply, of course.

  They never do. A girl can dream, right?

  Replicating their pattern from the previous room, Cara went left, and Diana cut right, while Rath attacked down the middle. The leader stepped into the vault and vanished from sight. His two lieutenants blocked access to whatever was inside and raised their wands at the seven-foot troll who bore down on them with cold intent. Diana pulled the trigger of her rifle until it clicked empty. She hoped for a lucky shot on the wizard on her side and sighed when the bullets bounced harmlessly away. While she’d expected a shield, it would have been nice for her not to be right for once.

  Shadow magic reached for her in the form of waving tentacles that emerged from the wizard’s wand. She threw herself to the side in a frantic evasive maneuver and dipped her head to avoid the one aimed at it. The barbed spikes along it sent the reality of their murderous intent home.

  Shit. These bastards are tougher than the others were.

  She clicked the release strap for her rifle and dropped the weapon behind her. It was useless now.

  The mage dispatched a continuous flow of tendrils to grasp her. Fear and anger surged within at the memory of being trapped by a similar attack. The emotions emerged from her hand as a shuddering bolt of force that she dragged in a line across the wizard’s body. He staggered at the unexpected series of blows, and his spell faltered. She rocketed forward again and flicked her left fingers to knock his wand free, but he held on stubbornly and whipped it in her direction.

  The dark tentacles uncoiled again. This time, they were narrow and cylindrical and entwined themselves into a thick bar. She avoided it with a backspin to the right and leapt at the wizard. Diana registered two things in mid-flight. The first was the broad grin that stretched across her adversary’s face. The second was the short wand in his off-hand that she hadn’t seen. It fired a thin cone of shadow directly at her heart.

  Cara was exhausted and the blast she’d delivered in the previous fight had drained her. Offensive magic always did. There hadn't been much occasion to call upon that power in the Marshals, and training beyond the basics had seemed a poor investment of her time.

  I guess I was wrong about that.

  Her rifle clattered as she forced the human duo ahead of her to duck for cover under their hastily prepared bulwarks—a pair of rolling carts from the vault. Still, the ancient stone blocks that had been stacked inside them proved adequate to shield them from her bullets. She raced forward and slid to a stop on her knees on the opposite side of the obstruction. By her reckoning, she was closest to the one she’d identified as the low man on the totem pole. She paused to take a breath and froze when the barrel of his weapon appeared in the open area underneath the cart, two feet away from her face.

  Rath was buffeted by chill blasts from the witch on the right. They struck with surprising force and almost burned. Trails of icicles were left in his fur from the places contact had been made. After he’d absorbed the first strike, he decided avoidance might be the better choice.

  The man on the left raised a rifle and fired at him. The bullets hurt where they scraped along the outside part of his arm. The impact twisted him slightly as the metal projectiles furrowed through his flesh. He bared his fangs at the pair and angled toward the one who had shot him.

  The next ice bolt caught him in the head. The momentum snapped it sideways and he staggered as he lurched aside. The man ahead now raised a pistol and fired. The gunman’s face seemed different—almost exultant. Rath knew better than to remain where he was, so he instinctively somersaulted to avoid the shots. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that his large form wasn’t
nearly so acrobatic, and two more bullets found their mark.

  He had never been shot with anti-magic bullets before, he realized, as the rounds burned into the muscles of his thighs. The troll went down hard and the momentum carried him in a tumultuous roll back the way he’d come. This was the first serious pain he could remember since being locked in the cage with its magical and mundane torments. His eyes latched hatefully on his opponent, who now lowered the pistol toward Rath’s slowing form.

  The cone of shadow struck Diana with enough force to overwhelm her. It wasn’t only physical, although it was sufficient to alter her trajectory and spiral her into a painful landing on her side. The magic struck at her very essence, and its tendrils sought to consume the life inside her. Her energy ebbed, and she could almost see it flow out as the shadows surrounded her. The wizard struck again and more darkness poured over her prone form in a continuous assault. She thrashed impotently. For a moment, she feared it was all over.

  What a stupid way to die.

  The anger at her own failure provided the necessary spark, however, and her vexation ignited as the vital catalyst to heat the molten pool that lay within. Heat spread slowly through her to push the shadow back, although it didn’t quite eliminate it. Conscious thought ceded to raw animal instinct as she rose in a fury and thrust both hands out. The shadows that had sought to engulf her recoiled. They jerked slowly into a lazy orbit around her. Then, they coalesced around her clenched hands before she drew both arms back like an artillery unit launching its payload.

  Two shadowy spheres rocketed from her fists. The wizard appeared to have no reflexive defense against his own power. Whether it was fear or shock that paralyzed him, the end result was the same. He careened in a flailing tangle of arms and legs and crumpled against the wall beside the vault door. She grinned. He would have some serious bruises, if not broken bones, after the brief unromantic encounter he’d experienced with the marble surface.

  Diana looked at her hands like they belonged to someone else.

  What the hell was that?

  She didn’t have time to wonder further. Anger boiled again when she saw the bullets pierce Rath’s legs and he reeled in agony. A closer threat demanded her attention as the witch near the vault swiveled her wand at the downed troll. The agent extended her arms again, but the shadows didn’t come.

  Okay, then. Have this, instead. No one hurts my friends, bitch.

  She cocked her right arm and threw it forward, and a familiar bolt of force erupted, directed at her foe. The woman somehow sensed its approach and managed to lean back enough that it collided with the door beside her with a loud clang. Diana strode toward the witch. Her fury manifested in the form of a glow around her left fist and the ball of force that hovered above her open right palm.

  Cara leapt over the barrier as the man fired. She landed on top of him and kicked his rifle away. She had to give him credit for quick reflexes, though. He rolled and regained his feet in a tense crouch with weapons drawn. His left hand held a combat baton that he flicked to full length as she readied herself. The right gripped a long knife that resembled a medieval dagger.

  She slid forward and led with a front jab at the man’s face and almost lost her fingers as he brought the blade around in a quick slashing motion. The marshal dropped into a spin to sweep his feet from beneath him, but he jumped aside to avoid it and lashed a kick in response. She blocked and shoved it away, then struck with a short left hook to his ribs before he could recover. It was the only blow she’d managed to land so far, unfortunately. She shook her hand, which had not enjoyed the impact with his Kevlar vest.

  Not the smartest choice, Cara.

  Mindful of his skill, she stepped back and assessed the threat before her. His stance was perfectly balanced, ready to attack or defend. He seemed content to wait for her to move, which was consistent with Diana’s belief that the enemy merely wanted to delay them. They’d certainly succeeded thus far, and whoever was in charge now had unhindered access to the vault while they struggled with these hindrances.

  Cara had a multitude of options to deal with knives, combat batons, and almost any kind of melee weapon, but they all required her to have something to use as a blocker. She gritted her teeth and accepted the reality that she would either have to take a blow or a cut directly. It was a sobering thought, but she forced the fear down and braced herself for the attack.

  Her opponent grinned and twitched the dagger in a cocky invitation.

  She yelled defiance and flung herself at him. Her attention was focused on two things—control the knife and protect her brain from the baton. Anything else, she would endure in order to get inside his guard. He surprised her when he skipped forward, and she threw her right arm up to block the blade stroke and managed to halt it far enough away that it couldn’t circle to catch her in the back of the head. His skip hampered the strike and it lacked sufficient force as it encountered her low left block.

  The strength behind might not have been strong, but it was enough. The pain that radiated up her arm from the point of impact made it clear that the limb had taken significant damage and could no longer be trusted. She faked a punch to his chest, and he flinched to avoid it. His avoidance lowered his head enough that the elbow strike she threw immediately after caught him on the temple. He staggered, and she repeated the blow rapidly in the same spot and he collapsed in a clatter of extra gear. Cara snatched the dagger up and spun to aid her teammates.

  Rath turned his tumble into a tackle and snapped out a long arm to knock the man’s legs out from beneath him. He raised a fist and pounded it down on his opponent’s head. The fighter rolled away toward the center of the room. The troll tried to rise, but the pain in his legs prohibited it.

  The enemy regained his feet and Rath growled at him, then began to pull himself across the floor with his burly arms in an awkward crawl. His target retrieved the pistol that had been knocked free by the tackle. The troll pushed up to his knees, ready to make the desperate attempt to hurl himself sideways, but dropped instantly as Cara shouted, “Rath, down!”

  He sensed something whistle past him. His adversary went wide-eyed and instinctively blocked the thrown blade with the only thing he had. The pistol and the knife clattered to the floor, and a long cut on the back of his hand quickly welled with blood. He shouted a curse and sprinted into the vault. En route, he caught the witch alongside by the sleeve and dragged with him. Rath resumed his crawl as both Diana and Cara raced forward. The heavy safe door swung closed much faster than it should have and left them on the outside with no means of entry.

  Diana threw her hands up in frustration when she recalled what had happened and what that likely meant. “The bloody monkeys were summoned. The bastards can use portals in here.”

  Cara swore, and Rath groaned. Diana knelt behind beside him and examined the wounds on his legs. “One of the bullets is still in there, and I'm not sure that's a good idea. Hang on. This will hurt.” She yanked the medpack from her belt and rolled it open with a flick of her wrist.

  The painkillers and stimulants were unusable since she didn’t know how the troll would react.

  We have to get a med tech, too, a really good one.

  She fumbled for the surgical tweezers and the antiseptic spray and sterilized first the surgical implement, then Rath’s leg. Finally, she bent to take a closer look at the injury. She tapped the stud on the side of her glasses a couple of times to increase the magnification, and her view improved. “Cara, I need light.”

  In the moments before she arrived with the needed illumination, Diana saw the edges of the wound already looking a little better. She shook her head and looked at Rath’s face. “You are a formidable fighter, young one.”

  He grinned. “I try.”

  Diana laughed and supplied the rest of the long-standing joke. “Do or do not. There is no try.”

  He barked once in pain as she seized the bullet with the tweezers and yanked it out of his thigh. Once she was confident the woun
ds were clear, she wound them with gauze and sealed them with duct tape.

  She noticed Cara’s labored breathing and looked at her bent form. “Are you okay?”

  The woman nodded. “My left arm’s hurt—maybe fractured. I have a couple of other bumps and bruises. You?”

  “My whole body is a giant bruise, but nothing more than that—assuming the damn shadow magic doesn’t have any lasting effects, that is.”

  “Those bastards sucked.”

  Diana couldn’t help but chuckle as she recalled Bryant’s response when she’d been the one to say those words. “They all suck. So we have to do better than we did today.”

  The heavy tramp of booted feet heralded Tony’s arrival with the SWAT team. The looks on their faces crushed her last hope. One way or the other, the bastards had gotten away. She gritted her teeth.

  That’s only round one, assholes. Ask the Kilomea how round two goes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The scene outside the museum was remarkably calm and ordered, given what had recently transpired. The wounded among the SWAT team had been stabilized and transported. A pair of ambulances with their back doors ajar served as havens for Cara and Diana while EMTs administered to them. They put the marshal’s arm in an air cast and told her she needed to go to the hospital for an X-ray.

  Diana received bandages and surgical glue with a couple of quick butterfly adhesives to hold the wound in the side of her neck closed until it healed. There wasn’t anything that could be done about the contusions. Finally, they were both released from the paramedics’ ministrations, and the two met their teammate in the center of the crowd of police and emergency vehicles.