Was this some byproduct of hosting Bryne, or had he been hiding his true strength from the rest of us this whole time? I was inclined to think the latter. Valerius had increased my speed and stamina for casting, but he’d not improved my ability to enchant metal one bit. All the powers he gifted me were new and had nothing to do with natural ability.
“Hold on!” I said, throwing up my hands. “I thought we had a deal!”
“Someone forgot to tell your friends that. A man’s got to protect himself. Plus, I only promised not to kill you.”
Ewan spun the water whip like a lasso and shoved the crackling electricity toward the ground, stepping onto the surface without any outward indicators of pain. He lifted off the ground, levitating about a foot above all our heads, balancing on the thin edge of lighting like a demented trapeze artist. At that vantage point, he could snap his liquid whip through the neck of every creature in the crowd, sending heads rolling off the deck like bowling balls.
“Boost!” I shouted to Dom, praying he’d catch my signal and interpret it correctly.
Dom nodded once and spun the shield horizontally. The rippling surface hardened and formed a disc about the size and shape of a manhole cover. By the time I reached Dom’s side a few seconds later, the disc was at ankle level and solid enough for me to place a foot on.
The moment I was secure the disc shot upward into the sky, level with Ewan. I shifted sideways and crouched, simultaneously making myself a smaller target and putting myself in a prime position to fire. The Beretta warmed in my hand as my rage sent sparks coursing along its frame. Searing sparks sank into the weapon, supercharging the incendiary spells I’d placed on the slide.
I fired and the bullet exploded with the force of the magic channeling through it, sending a fireball the size of a hubcap hurtling toward Saunders. Ewan pivoted, whipping the water toward the oncoming threat.
The two forces collided in mid-air and burst into a cloud of superheated steam. Cries of pain went up from the deck below and my stomach squirmed in sudden guilt. I had to get Ewan away from these people. What had I been thinking, dragging him onto the ship full of creatures that would, justifiably, want their pound of flesh at the earliest opportunity?
This had to end, now.
The steam was too dense to make out Ewan’s position, so I screwed my eyes shut and pushed my demon companion to the fore. If anyone could find and stop the murderous redneck, it would be Valerius.
Sinking into Valerius was like viewing the world through tinted glasses. I was vaguely aware of shapes and movement, but every sight was muted and dark. I still didn’t quite trust the demon and was quietly glad to have incapacitated Bryne before bringing Ewan aboard. At least he wouldn’t be searching for me with more than human perception.
A movement to our left caught Valerius’ attention and we leaped, pushing off the metal disc with enough force to dent the intricate matrices that made up Dom’s spell. I hadn’t even been aware that it was possible to dent a spell.
My body twisted like a ribbon in the scalding air and my hands reached out and wrapped unerringly around the column of Ewan’s throat, the rest of my body molding to his a second later.
Though we were pressed chest to chest, every curve of my body flush with the hard muscle of his, it didn’t feel quite sexual. With the press of my fangs against his throat, I felt more like a coiled snake. Sinuous, deadly, and willing to strike with the barest provocation.
My voice was a distant echo to my own ears as Valerius snarled against Ewan’s throat.
“This was not our agreement, pretender. Cease before I tear your throat out.”
Ewan’s body was relaxed beneath mine and he dared reach a hand around my waist with a grin, squeezing my ass to add insult to injury.
“Good to see you, Valerius. I was wondering when Nat might let you off the leash to play.”
To my horror, Valerius slid a hand up Ewan’s bicep until it came to rest on his shoulder. My fingers played idly with the wisps of pale hair that curled at his nape, and my chin tilted slightly, as if angled for a kiss.
Ewan must have thought so too, because his lips parted, and his gaze dropped to my mouth. He leaned closer and I nearly screamed.
Then Valerius got a grip on Ewan’s hair and pulled his head down to meet the swing of my knee. Ewan’s nose cracked and blood gushed in a torrent down my pant leg.
“Touch my host like that again, and I will remove your manhood,” Valerius warned. He kept his grip tight on Ewan’s head and slid my fingers through the blood on my pant leg. The thick liquid solidified in my hand, forming a long shard of red metal in my grasp.
Valerius stroked the blade along Ewan’s carotid like a lover’s caress and murmured. “Abide by your agreement, interloper. Or I will carve my sister from your bones and scatter you to the four winds.”
Ewan stilled beneath my hand at once and his blue eyes flicked up to meet mine. “Got it. Play nice until we get to Mictlan.”
Valerius got a firmer grip on Ewan’s nape and pulled him off the crackling scythe of energy, dangling him in the open air for a few seconds before dropping him to the deck six feet below. The crowd parted and Ewan impacted the deck ass first. The scythe dissipated without Ewan’s magic to hold its shape and I breathed easy for the first time since we’d arrived back on the ship.
“Give me back the reins, Valerius.”
The demon didn’t argue with me. Control crept back into my limbs piece by piece, until I could feel the baking air against my cheeks, the wind tugging fingers through my hair, the blood soaking into my pant leg. I was going to have to start wearing a catsuit or something. At least a latex bodysuit wouldn’t require as much dry cleaning.
I kept the Beretta trained on Ewan, sprawled as he was on the deck below. His promises didn’t mean shit, and I wasn’t going to allow him to pull a stunt like this again.
Stepping off the ledge of Dom’s shield, I dropped like a stone and landed next to Ewan’s prone form.
“Someone drag Declan up on deck. We’re going to need a transportation spell stat.”
“Where are we going?” Dom asked, rubbing at his elbow. A magnificent bruise was already beginning to form on his forearm. Jay must have driven him into the ground harder than I thought.
“Ewan and I have agreed to duke this battle out one on one in the underworld. If everyone had kept their fucking cool, I would have told you that.”
I’d save the more pressing details for later when Dom was less likely to have a conniption over them.
Ewan stayed very still beneath the barrel of my gun. I didn’t fool myself into believing that he had been intimidated by my display of force. I had the idea that I’d actually come off worse in this battle. I’d been forced to lean into Valerius’ power to beat him, while he’d had little trouble facing Dom and I with only his own power to fall back on.
“Since we can’t go back and clear our names, Jay and Bly, I’m leaving you in charge. You’ll take over as pack leaders in the interim. The remaining wolves are going to need someone to help them get settled.”
The two werewolves exchanged a doubtful glance. “Why us?”
“Because you are both capable and you have proved yourself to have good instincts. Cat will negotiate your safe passage into a Trust embassy until things can be sorted out.”
Findlay stepped from the crowd.
Understanding flashed in his dark, watery eyes as he stared at me, adjusting his glasses nervously.
“I’m coming with you,” he said. He still looked rather rat-like to me, though most of my animosity toward the little man was gone. The atrocities he’d committed on behalf of the vampires had been done to preserve his daughter’s life. I couldn’t hate him for that.
I didn’t allow Ewan up until Declan sprinted onto the deck, led by an ashen-faced Kaya. His eyes flicked once to that phosphorus green that betrayed his other half. It only seemed to peek out when he was unsettled. Not that I could blame
him for the reaction. I’d been in the know for almost an hour now, and still found Ewan’s shift in character pretty damn unsettling.
“Kaya said you need a transport,” Declan said, drawing the words out slow so it almost sounded like a question. “Where to?”
“Hell,” I sighed. “But first, I need a shower.”
***
The ironclad was basically a floating tank. Inside, it looked like a submarine refitted by an ancient line of vampires. Tiny windows, very little sunlight, and a bit claustrophobic. The rooms were pleasantly designed, but cramped like those of a discount cruise ship—with much finer linens. My room had purple and black satin sheets.
I frowned into the closet, riffling through the formal attire and fancy jewelry. I began to second-guess our choice to make Lamonia’s ship our home base. He had a thing for black lace and leather. None of the ballgowns in his guest chambers were appropriate. It looked like a Hot Topic store had vomited into every drawer. I wished I had time to go home and get a change of clothes, but until Cat and Findlay straightened out the Trust, I was still wanted for Sienna’s murder.
Dom pushed open the door just as I was stepping into a clean pair of leather pants and some kind of lacy corset. It was a bit snug but better than the oversized men’s shirts.
“You have a plan right?” he scowled. “Tell me you’re not actually going into Hell to fight this monster.”
“You got a better idea?” I asked.
He ran a hand through his dark hair.
“I don’t know, unbind him from the demon?”
“If we try, it’ll be war. We’ll keep killing each other, and others will get hurt. You saw what he was capable of up on deck. At least I’ve negotiated a cease-fire for now. When you’ve got a better plan, I’m all ears.”
“But why does it have to be you?” he asked. “Why is it always you.”
I shrugged. I wanted to say, it was all my fault. I killed Lamonia. I free Bryne.
But I couldn’t afford to wallow in self-pity. The sooner we got out of here, the better.
And I was tired of Dom second guessing me. I was doing the best I could, under the circumstances.
“If you don’t like it, maybe sit this one out.”
Dom looked insulted at the suggestion.
“You’re not going anywhere with that asshole alone. No way.”
“Then for now, shut up and follow my lead. Think you can do that, sweetheart?”
He took a deep breath, and I thought he was going to keep yelling.
Then he sighed, kissed my shoulder, and zipped me up.
We were making our way back on deck when I saw my sister through the open door of another bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, braiding Sophia’s hair. They were both too thin and pale, after their ordeals, but otherwise a spitting image of each other.
We hadn’t talked yet, not in years, and every opportunity that slipped past made it harder to face her for some reason. We hadn’t been on great terms even before the incident. I was spiraling out of control, and of course she sided with the Trust when they broke my wand to preserve her career. I’d held it against her at the time. I didn’t anymore. I waved Dom ahead and told him I’d catch up.
“I always knew you’d make a good mother,” I said, leaning into the doorway.
She smiled up at me.
“Who’d have thought?” she said. She finished the braid and sent Sophia to choose a book from the collection in the next room.
“So you’re okay with this, with her?” I asked softly.
“Findlay told me… about everything. That he killed Sienna. About making a homunculus without my consent. I should be appalled. It will take a long time for us to be okay. But now that I’ve met her, how could I stay mad?”
I nodded, relief flooding through me. Binding a human soul to a doll of living clay was black magic; part of me was worried my sister wouldn’t accept her. It was comforting to know Sophia would be loved. I wished I had more time with them. Sophia deserved the chance to grow up. Cat deserved the happiness that had been stolen from her. Neither would get it if Ewan got his way.
“I never believed it, you know. That you killed Sienna. Lamonia made me make that press release.”
“I know,” I said softly, but I couldn’t look at her.
“Findlay filled me in on what you’ve been up to. When I was in a coma.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said sharply. “I did what I had to, to survive.”
“And now this. Working with Dom again. Saving the world. It’s… not what I expected, but you never could sit still.”
“You think I choose this?” I snapped.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, looking guilty. I frowned, hating myself for getting so defensive. Years in a coma and I’d visited her every week, risked everything to pay her hospital bills and keep her alive, and now that she was finally back to me, I could barely get a sentence out without arguing.
“I just mean… power suits you. You carry him well. You’re decisive, and you always seem to know what to do.”
I’d nearly forgotten, I was carrying the demon that had kept Cat in a coma.
I blinked away the tears in my eyes, remembering everything I’d gone through to get here.
“I’m stalling for time, until I figure out something better,” I whisper, leaning in closer. “Honestly I have no idea what I’m doing, or even where to start. I only know one mage powerful enough to portal people into Hell, and with enough knowledge of the underworld to guide us there. The only problem is, she’s dead.”
“Well,” Cat said with a smirk, “let’s see what we can do about that.”
chapter
4
THE LAST RAYS OF THE setting sun glittered off the surface of Lake Baikal. The deep blue of the water was radiant, even beneath the thick sheet of ice that encased it. Long white cracks tore through the fractured surface. An endless gray sky stretched above our heads, and it might have been difficult to tell where the two diverged if not for the island ahead. The jut of rock had been liberally dusted with snow and a forest of spindly pine trees swayed in a stiff breeze.
Less radiant were the stooped female figures that shuffled across the lake, carrying gagged demi-humans in tow.
Cat said we could find Cayman Bello on a mission in Siberia, so that’s where we went. Our dark clothes stood out like chunks of coal against the icy landscape. Declan dropped us off at the edge of the lake but didn’t stick around to watch the show. He usually charged an arm and a leg, but he’d been dismissively when I tried to offer him his usual fee. I wondered if it was Kaya’s influence on him, changing him for the better.
“My god,” Dom muttered from my right, whipping my glasses from his face at last. I’d enchanted the pair of reading glasses to act as a scope on the off chance I ever found myself without my gear. It turned out they doubled just as well as binoculars.
“There have to be at least fifty of them. Have you ever seen this many strzyga in one place?”
Valerius’ night vision was particularly keen and I had no trouble making out the figures that slouched toward the island.
“Nope. The last time we came to flush out an infestation, they’d set up in a church in Saint Petersburg. There were only four, though they had a breeding pair, so it was pretty damn lucky that we arrived when we did. Another few months and we’d have been in deep shit.”
The strzyga were overwhelmingly female, which was the sole reason that the Trust hadn’t devoted more resources to wiping them out. Male strzyga were rarer than unicorns, so their numbers usually stayed in the low hundreds.
They shared a number of unsettling characteristics with vampires. They were largely nocturnal, drank blood, and had rows of sharp, deadly teeth. But the resemblance ended there. The strzyga were living creatures, with the essential spark that entailed. They grew slowly and they tended to stay on the fringes of human life. Unlike their distant cousins the vam
pires, a strzyga couldn’t hope to blend in on the street.
A female strzyga resembled a bedraggled, dark-haired woman. All that hair couldn’t quite conceal the striped owl-like wings folded against their stooped backs and no gloves were going to cover their scaled talons.
“Where the hell is Bello?” Ewan griped, after an hour. “I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
I frowned, disgruntled to be on the same page as Ewan about anything. But the question had been burning in the back of my mind since we’d arrived. Where was Bello? It wasn’t as if a six-foot-tall, heavily pierced shaman was going to escape our notice, especially in this barren, frozen wasteland. Darkness had fallen and a silver moon reflected off the ice.
“Shut up, Saunders,” I grumbled. “It’s not as if we’re on a schedule.”
Ewan might have shot back a nasty retort if commotion from the lake hadn’t caught our attention.
A silver-blue figure strode across the lake, hovering inches above the ice. It took the shape of a bloodstained soldier, loosely clutching his gun.
The lead strzyga spun, her hair fanning out around her like an eerie curtain as she moved. Her mouth opened to reveal twin sets of teeth, and her inky eyes trailed the soldier warily. She gathered up the small demi-human, some species of fae I’d never met, and backed away a step.
The soldier was quickly joined by another man, this one in a uniform centuries older than the first. Soon a crowd of shades had gathered on the lake, hemming in the strzyga on all sides.
From the opposite side of the wood, a figure emerged, dark against the glittering white landscape all around us. A warm wave of nostalgia crashed over me as I took in the broad, tattooed shaman. He looked just the way I’d remembered him. Rough furs hung from his muscular frame, and silver glinted on his nose, his eyebrows, his lips, both ears, and even one eyelid. White and silver beads and a deer skull stood out against his dark skin, its pointy antlers like a fairy crown.
Agent of Magic Box Set Page 45