Agent of Magic Box Set

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Agent of Magic Box Set Page 50

by Melissa Hawke


  “If we get out of this alive, I’ll see to it that lickspittle doesn’t fly again,” Findlay seethed.

  “Hold down on the righteous indignation, Findlay,” I snapped. “We don’t have time for petty vendettas right now. I need your head in the game, got it? We’re about to enter a jungle. I need you sharp and on your guard. I don’t want any surprises from the local fauna, alright?”

  Findlay nodded tightly. “Fine, got it.”

  “Hold on a sec,” I said, turning back to the pilot.

  “What size are you?” I asked, greedily eyeing his pristine collared shirt.

  “Never mind. I’m going to need one more thing before you go…”

  chapter

  9

  WE’D COME WOEFULLY UNDERPREPARED FOR a trek into the jungle. The human members of the party, Dom, Findlay, and Cayman, were being eaten alive by insects. Even Findlay’s iron grasp on the local wildlife couldn’t extend to the mosquitos. And he had to sleep sometime, which meant that we were on guard for jaguars, and other equally dangerous predators. Ewan, perversely, seemed hopeful that we’d meet a boa constrictor so he could test his newfound strength against it.

  At night, we were hounded by the remainder of the hunting party Barabbas Grieves had sent for us. The khaki shirt I’d stolen from the pilot was soon crusted various shades of red and brown from the repeated fights we’d engaged in. Every few miles, a machete-wielding vampire popped out from behind a tree like a deadly game of whack-a-mole. I took one out with a bowie knife just before it ended Findlay. Now that we knew we were being tailed, we were trying not to discharge any firearms until we reached out destination.

  Not to mention, in such close quarters I was just as likely to shoot an ally as an enemy. Luckily, I was just as lethal with my bare hands and a stolen machete or two. Not that I was needed. Between Ewan and Dom, I was feeling a bit superfluous, and when things got really tough, Cayman summoned ghostly Aztec warriors and conquistadors from shallow graves nearby. It was strange, and a little sad, to see the two battle side-by-side in an effort to defeat our undead enemies. When one considered the history, it seemed unfair, somehow. But it saved our bacon several times over, so I couldn’t bitch.

  I tugged uncomfortably at the stiff collar. I’d already loosed most of the buttons, exposing my bra, and tied the extra length of the shirt around my bare waist. With the tiny shorts I’d picked up in Greece, I had a real Lara Croft thing going on, especially draped in the tactical belts I’d picked up from Grieves’ men. It was worth it, every time a slight breeze chilled the dripping sweat from my collarbone.

  On the second day, we followed a stream to a wide cenote. I climbed down the thick vines into the deep, cavernous hole to scrub my clothes in the crystal blue waters, letting them air dry after we continued our hike. The verdant peninsula was so dense, I couldn’t scratch my nose without getting caught in a hanging vine or spiderweb. We started our days’ journey before the sun crested the horizon and didn’t stop until it had set again. The rest of our troupe ate whatever they could catch, but even so, it wasn’t enough. After the first few days, the human members of our party ended up dropping several pounds from the exertion alone.

  Apparently a guide had been scheduled to greet us with a rented jeep at the tarmac, but after our hostile welcome party, we figured we’d be safer on foot—which meant crossing over a hundred miles of rainforest. Bello could only hold onto spirits for so long, and since ghosts couldn’t perform magic, there was no need to summon Sienna until after we’d found the physical entrance to Mictlan. According to Cat and the ancient texts Dom had helped translate, the entrance should be somewhere near the ruins of Calakmul.

  Findlay nearly collapsed into a bed of foliage when we’d finished for the day, nodding off gratefully after getting the go-ahead. Normally it would be Ewan and I standing guard as neither of us had to sleep. I was tired of watching him clean his weapons, wondering when he was going to jab a poison-tipped arrow into my back.

  “Why don’t you go find that boa, huh?” Dom said, glaring at Ewan as he made to sit beside me.

  Ewan shrugged. “Fine. But if you move camp without me, heads will roll.”

  My eyes followed him until he disappeared from sight, then I stared glumly down into the softly glowing battery-operated lantern we’d placed at the center of our little group. Longer lasting and less destructive than fire, but with none of the warmth or ambience. I’d been keeping the thing charged with magic. I could probably make out like a bandit selling the super-charged battery packs at home. An owl hooted somewhere nearby, sending a shiver up my spine.

  Dom sat heavily beside me and was silent for a long time. I might have thought he’d nodded off, but the tempo of his breath and heartbeat gave him away. I could tell he was working himself into some kind of foul mood.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” I drawled, sprawling flat on the ground. The leafy green canopy above us obscured the sky, plunging us into almost total darkness every night. With luck, we’d reach the ruins tomorrow. I was itching to get out of the jungle. I wanted to see the stars one more time, no matter how the battle shook out.

  “Marry me,” Dom said suddenly, breaking through my thoughts.

  I sat up on one elbow and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Come again?”

  Dom leaned forward so most of his face was illuminated in the lamplight. I couldn’t find a trace of humor anywhere in his perfect profile. The intensity of his gaze made me squirm.

  “Marry me,” he repeated, with more conviction.

  “Is this really the time or place for a proposal?” I asked, glancing around at the thick foliage, and Findlay and Cayman just across the small clearing.

  He shrugged. “We’re about to descend into the depths of the underworld, and there’s no guarantee any of us are coming back. This may be the only time I have you alone, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to propose in front of the others.”

  “You’re serious?”

  Dom cracked a smile, though it was a touch bitter.

  “I’m proposing and you think it’s a joke? Thanks for the confidence boost, Nat.”

  I pushed myself to sit, curling my legs beneath me in Lotus position, hands on my knees.

  “I made a promise to Volkar, Dom. You know I couldn’t say yes. If I break my promise to a fae, the consequences will be dire.”

  He leaned forward. “That’s just the thing, Nat. I don’t think you would be breaking your promise. The deal specifies that a member of the Trust has to marry a non-human and that you have to vouch for the rights of demi-human groups. It never specifies that you have to be the one marrying anyone.”

  I threw my hands up in frustration. “Who else will do it, Dom? What mage in their right mind will make that sacrifice? It’s going to have to be me.”

  “Me. I’ll do it.”

  I pursed my lips at him, trying to follow his logic.

  “And this plays into your proposal how?”

  Dom grinned, and the expression lit his irritatingly handsome face.

  “You’re not human anymore, Nat. Even if we win this battle, it’s unlikely you will ever be human again. I’m not sure there’s a way to pry Valerius off your soul. So if you’re not human, and I’m willing to marry you…”

  “Then we technically fulfill the terms of the agreement,” I mused. “That still feels like a cheat, you know. That’s not what Volkar meant.”

  “Maybe. But if you’re championing their rights, should it really matter who you’re married to?”

  Adhering to the letter of an agreement without honoring its spirit was quintessentially fae, but I doubted Volkar would be impressed.

  I scrubbed my face wearily with both hands. Though Valerius kept my body wired, my mind ached for rest after my 36-hour vigil. I hadn’t completely relaxed since discovering Ewan on the atoll.

  “Dom, I can’t talk about this right now.”

  “Nat, if you’d just think about it—”

&nbs
p; “Dom, I can’t.” My voice broke. “I have been going and going for weeks, trying to stop one catastrophe after another. My back is against the wall. The entire fate of the known universe depends on my ability to stop that crazy son of a bitch. I have no idea if I’ll be able to contain Valerius even if we do win. The only way to keep him in check is to drink blood, making me essentially a vampire queen. I’ll be disgusting. How could you even find me attractive, much less want to marry me?”

  Dom remained quiet, absorbing my tirade. When I’d finished, I found myself breathing hard, the desire to be sick thick in my throat. I’d been crouched in a defensive position so long, in the metaphorical sense, that I barely recalled what it felt like to breathe easy anymore.

  “Are you kidding?” Dom smiled. “In that girl scout outfit? I’ve never wanted you more.”

  “Please, Dom. Don’t push me. I can’t take it right now.”

  I couldn’t entertain a vision of a happy family and a white picket fence with the battle looming ahead. It was as absurd and surreal as the shimmering, shirtless man that stepped from the undergrowth behind Dom.

  I blinked. A man had just stepped out of the foliage and hovered at Dom’s shoulder. I shot to my feet at once, reaching for my holster on pure instinct. Spooks weren’t normally anything to worry about without a necromancer or shaman to guide them. But in this place that fairly buzzed with blood magic, who was to say the normal rules applied?

  Dom followed my gaze but didn’t appear to see him.

  “What’s going on, Nat?”

  “There’s a ghost behind you.”

  Dom squinted. “All I see is a heat haze. Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Cayman apparently had only been drifting because, at my words, he propped himself up and gazed bleary-eyed at the spot I’d indicated. He frowned at the specter.

  “It’s not terribly strong. How are you seeing it, Iron Heart? I can barely sense it.”

  The answer was immediate and obvious. Valerius. Some combination of his power and my blood allowed me to spy the barely-there spirit. Something about the ghost even felt achingly familiar.

  He was mostly naked, with only a beaded turquoise collar around his throat, and a series of painted furs keeping his naughty bits from poking out. His large, feathered headdress commanded most of my attention, and it bobbed and swayed as he beckoned me forward with his spear. Gold dust sparkled against his dark skin when he moved.

  “I think we should follow him,” I murmured.

  Findlay groaned and rolled into a half-crouched position on his mattress of leafy ferns.

  “Are you insane, Valdez? It could be leading us into an ambush.”

  I shook my head slowly. There was no sense of malice rolling off the spirit. If it meant us ill, it was concealing its intentions well. Anger and ill-intent fueled spirits and made them stronger. This wasn’t a poltergeist, or we’d be experiencing a lot more flying debris.

  Valerius? I checked, just to be sure.

  The demon gave the mental equivalent of a nod. This spirit is a priest and a guide. It will take us to the temple we seek. If I am not mistaken, it is not far off now.

  Thanks for the heads up, I shot back. You could have been useful, you know. What, you can’t deign to be a GPS every now and then?

  Valerius didn’t dignify that with a reply.

  “Trust me,” I pleaded, extending a hand toward Dom. “He’s a guide. We’re close to the temple. He can lead us there.”

  Dom hesitated for only a fraction of a second before sliding his hand into mine.

  “Alright, Nat. Lead the way.”

  chapter

  10

  THE PRIEST WAS MORE FLEET-FOOTED than he looked. The moment I’d mobilized our group into a staggering, semi-coherent line, the priest took off, disappearing into the underbrush. I was after him in a second, and even I couldn’t keep up with him for long.

  His long, fluid stride was absolutely silent, his feet barely touched the ground as he floated straight through the trees.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, stumbling over another root in the dark. “We’re never going to catch him at this rate.”

  “I have an idea,” Findlay panted, bringing up the rear, clutching a stitch in his side. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Someone had clearly been skipping the Trust’s training classes and overlooking the complimentary gym membership. No one had forced us to stay active, but it was highly encouraged, especially in recruits that would be seeing combat.

  “What’s that?” Dom asked.

  Findlay didn’t answer, but it became a moot point seconds later as four sleek, yellow shapes dropped from the branches above us onto the forest floor. Their black spots undulated with every move, and I balked inches away from the nearest. It blinked slowly, and the flick of its whiskers was the only indication that the magnificent cat acknowledged my presence at all. It was a massive thing, perhaps two or three hundred pounds and very obviously male.

  “Hop on,” Findlay said. He slung a leg over a smaller, female shape and laid his body flat to her back, holding onto the ruff at the back of her neck.

  I couldn’t exactly argue. I hadn’t ever clocked my top speed after my death, but I doubted it was as fast as a jaguar, which could go fifty miles an hour for short stretches. Valerius had said the place was close, hadn’t he?

  My jaguar shot a disdainful look over its shoulder at me. I had the sense that Findlay didn’t have iron control over these cats. The look it was giving me said I was one wrong sneeze away from being bucked and eaten.

  I straddled the beast with my bare thighs and nudged its sides cautiously. It took off into the night, following the exact trail our guide had taken. I had to wonder if it could see the luminescent trail the priest had left in its wake. Wind whistled in my ears and a thousand low-hanging branches smacked me in the face as we tore through the jungle. The jaguar gave a chuff of amusement after one particularly girlish squeal.

  “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Sylvester,” I huffed. The jaguar rolled its great head, obviously ignoring me in true cat fashion.

  It took us a few minutes, but soon we were drawing level with the spirit. It hadn’t slowed, and only smirked when we flanked it on either side on our mounts. The trees were thinning up ahead, and I noted, with some irritation, that Ewan had once again tried to outfox us.

  He was just reaching the very edge of the jungle and stepping onto a stretch of smooth stones when we flew past him. I thought it was a riverbed at first, but by the uniform shape of the rocks, decided it had to be some kind of ancient street.

  “What in the Sam Hill—? Valdez, what are you doing here?”

  My jaguar spun out, coming to a complete stop at the edge of the trees. My eyes widened as I looked up at a massive stone pyramid; standing so high its peak seeming to scratch the full moon above. I dismounted with poor grace, legs wobbly after the ride. I was surprised the big cat hadn’t objected more strenuously. I had to have been squeezing the life out of its sides.

  “I think that’s the question we ought to be asking you, Saunders,” I said, taking a shaky step forward. I gained more confidence and feeling in my legs as I stalked toward him. He didn’t look phased, even when I was close enough to jab a finger into his leather vest.

  He grinned unrepentantly. “Just trying to get the lay of the land. I knew you’d catch up eventually.”

  “You can’t do that, Ewan! We had an agreement.”

  He screwed up his face in an expression very reminiscent of a guilty toddler. “I swear I’ll never do wrong again. That what you want to hear, Valdez? Grow the fuck up. Life ain’t fair and I sure as hell ain’t gonna pass up a chance to get ahead.”

  In a move worthy of my mother, I snatched his ear and dragged him down to my level. He winced and tried to bat my hands away.

  “Get off of me, Valdez!”

  My voice came out low and tinged with the rumbling bass of my demon.

  “You cr
oss us again, Ewan, and I will gut you like a trout. Understand me?”

  Ewan’s eyes flashed briefly green as Bryne shone through.

  “Understood, brother,” she murmured, in an unearthly voice.

  I released him a half-second later, and he stood back, rubbing his ear.

  “Got a pincer-like grip on Dom’s balls then, Valdez? No wonder he trails you like a lost puppy.”

  Dom knocked into Ewan ass-first into the ground, in a move too coordinated to be an accident. Ewan bared his teeth in a snarl and prepared to leap at Dom. I flashed him a warning look, and it was enough to make him reconsider his strike, at least.

  Cayman and Findlay joined us seconds later, their mounts practically bucking them to the ground in their haste to get away from the ruins. I couldn’t really blame them. Animals tended to be much smarter than humans, at least when it came to sensing dangerous magic. The ruins gave off more magical charge than any place I’d ever visited. Even the phantom-filled Paris catacombs paled in comparison.

  Death saturated the very ground. Bloody, violent death consecrated these temples to a pantheon of gods more violent and ritualistic than any other. And I was about to invade their territory and demand a showdown of universe-ending proportions.

  A sculpted stone shaft bore the emblem of a long lost Aztec king, with his head entombed in what looked like a massive feathered reptile. Large, nocturnal moths fluttered in the moonlight, their blue wings shimmering like tin foil.

  “Calakmul was called the kingdom of the snake,” Findlay said, coming up behind me. “Buried in the jungle for over a thousand years, lost to history, until a biologist happened to fly over it in 1931. Even so, they only built an actual road a decade ago, and most tourists skip the bumpy two-hour ride through the jungle. At its height, the city and suburbs were home to a quarter of a million souls.”

  “How did they even build this?” I asked, eyeing the massive stones of the base that stretched for nearly a mile in each direction.

  “Magic, duh,” Ewan smirked, pushing past me.

 

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