Agent of Magic Box Set

by Melissa Hawke

  chapter

  20

  I FELT NAUSEOUS FROM THE sudden transformation around me. My eyes snapped back to our host, now seated at the head of the grand table in a throne made of jagged bones. He was taller than Dom, practically a giant, and rippling with muscle. His long fingers looked like they could wrap around my waist.

  His skin, what wasn’t hidden by the armor or black furs, was colored with red and blue paint. The bottom half of his face and neck were inky black, which made the bleached bone of the skull on his massive headdress look like it was floating. It was framed with gold, and attached to a fan of black and blue feathers. A necklace of eyeballs hung from his neck, seeming to stare me down.

  I stood there gawping like an idiot for a few seconds before my brain managed to catch up. Somehow I’d already reclaimed and drawn my weapons. I holstered them deliberately, before dropping to one knee in front of Mictlantecuhtli, and bowing my head in respect. It was probably wise to show deference to the god of the freaking dead.

  “We are humbled by your invitation, my lord.”

  “Kiss-ass,” Ewan muttered.

  “Rise and sit at my table,” Mictlantecuhtli insisted. I climbed to my feet a few seconds later and took a seat as directed. The spread had increased exponentially as well. Now there were several varieties of cheese, fruits I hadn’t seen before, and an assortment of meats to choose from. My stomach tried to growl. I hadn’t indulged in good food since the conflict with Barabbas Grieves. I knew the only way that I’d taste any of this was if I managed to appease Valerius with blood. And considering the gravity of the upcoming battle, I couldn’t afford to handicap myself like that.

  Mictlantecuhtli poured me a glass of something dark red and viscous. I stared at the cup warily.

  “Honeyed wine,” he explained when I balked. “I know of Valerius’ weakness. If I wished to imprison you, I could have done it the moment you stepped into my realm. But your proposition intrigues me. How do you envision this battle?”

  He lifted his arm and an owl flew down from the rafters, landing on his shoulder. Mictlantecuhtli held up a squirming rat and the owl snapped at it, tearing it apart with its bloody beak and talons. I shuddered, hoping I wouldn’t be dispatched so easily.

  “Valerius says you have a stadium within the keep where we could fight. A proper contest of warriors, and a way for the loser to stay dead. All the gods would assemble to watch. If I win, I’d like to barter for my grandfather’s soul and I’d preserve the lives of those on earth.”

  Ewan kicked his legs up onto the table, deliberately smearing cheese across the table with one of his spurs. He smirked at the death god and gave him a wink.

  “And if I win our little wager, I start killin’ things. Starting with you folk.”

  The urge to spill my wine all down Ewan’s front was strong. I took a long draft instead and found, to my surprise, that the stuff was probably the best wine I’d ever tasted.

  “Why do you speak his language?” a voice asked. I lifted my eyes when a shadow formed at the end of the table. I couldn’t tell if the seated figure had been shrouded in smoke, or drifted in like the wind. Suddenly, she was there.

  I could tell she was female by the low cut, delicate black dress, held up by thin straps. The top half of her face was hidden in black lace. It was only when she moved that I could see her eyes behind them, glowing like sapphires. Her dark hair fell in tangles from beneath a massive headdress, made of black coral and pearls. A pair of ram’s ears curled out from her temples, supporting a tight crown of human skulls.

  “My wife, Mictecacihuatl,” our host said, nodding towards her.

  “Call me Micca,” she said, sipping her wine. When she moved her lips, the pale skin around her mouth became transparent, showing the teeth in her skull. I suddenly felt completely underdressed, after weeks in the jungle, and then the journey through Mictlan, I felt like shit and probably smelled worse.

  “Charmed, I’m sure,” Dom said, coughing into his hand.

  The restlessness that had been brewing in me since we entered Mictlan flared to the surface. Micca was grouping me with Ewan, even though I was here to fight him. Flames flickered from my fingers before I could rein in my rage. What difference did it make what language I spoke?

  “Are you kidding?” I threw my hands up in frustration. “What do you want me to do? I grew up in Queens, not steeped in my culture. Hell, I didn’t even know about my bloodline. Aztec culture all but died out a long time ago. Give me a fucking break!”

  I jabbed a finger in Ewan’s direction furiously.

  “I didn’t steal my birthright, nor was I was privy to the decision to make me an incubator for a demonic force that destroys the world. I’m not responsible for any of this, but I am trying to make it right anyway. So I could do with less patronizing superiority and a little more gratitude. Without me, we’d already be at war.”

  “What my wife is getting at,” the Lord of Mictlan rumbled, “is that blood alone does not make you one of us. Who is to say this isn’t an elaborate hoax, to gather the gods in one place so that you might destroy us more easily?”

  My throat tightened and I squeezed my fists together.

  “I’m sorry for not magically picking up the language on the way here. Maybe I should have been listening to podcasts on the way. You can speak to Valerius if you want, but I won’t be responsible for what he does to you if I let him out.”

  “The demon is our enemy, and yet I would trust his oath more than yours, Natalia Valdez. Did you not turn away from the organization you were sworn to protect? Shoot your former colleague in cold blood, in order to save your sister? Lie or endanger everyone who cares most about you, including your neighbor, who you very nearly burned to death?”

  “Fuck you,” I stood up suddenly, my arms trembling. I’d never told anyone about Phyllis.

  Mictlantecuhtli grinned at me, his skull leering.

  “I see vengeance in your heart, and it burns brighter than the demon you carry.”

  I knew he was working me up on purpose, pushing my buttons to see how well I could control myself. But I was sick of playing the gracious guest. I’d given up so much to get here, just to be insulted and denied. I shouldn’t need to prove myself to anybody.

  “Only the noble can fight in the area,” Micca added. “The pure of heart and clear of purpose.”

  “Then take your arena and shove it,” I glared at her, crossing my arms.

  “Nat—” Dom began in the placating tones of a diplomat.

  “No!” I cut him off. “I’m not going to sit and take this. I just delivered him his greatest enemy and offered to take him out for good. I’m risking my life to save his skin, and the world. And that’s fine. I’ll fight. But I won’t beg for the opportunity. You think someone else has a shot at defeating Ewan and Bryne? Then find another champion.”

  I downed the last of my wine with a scowl and slammed the glass down onto the table. I’d only had a few sips but I already felt three sheets to the wind. Probably some kind of infernal truth-serum meant to loosen my tongue. I shoved my chair out so hard the table screeched across the floor, sending it a few inches toward Ewan, who was watching my temper tantrum with amusement. He wasn’t even phased by the death god. I killed him horribly only an hour or so before and he still possessed all the confidence of a cat at rest. It spurred me to new heights of fury.

  The marble hall went by in a blur as I pelt away from the throne room. I wandered into a vast hall that was like a gothic church meets an Escher painting, with an unhealthy obsession with skulls, black roses and portraits of Mictlantecuhtli’s creepy-ass wife, her skin mask peeling.

  There were more shades waiting in the wing, including Findlay and Sienna. Neither tried to keep me in the room, for which I was grateful. I flew past them and into an adjacent corridor. I wrenched open the first door I could find and flung myself into an empty bedroom. It was the most lavish thing I’d ever seen, which was saying someth
ing. Thick red drapes concealed most of one wall, and the bed looked big enough to accommodate twelve or at the very least, a frisky set of six.

  I hurled myself onto it, feeling like the angst-filled teenager I’d been once upon a time. The feeling of overbearing judgement fit that scenario. I hated feeling like the errant child who should have known better. And the expectation was entirely unfair. How the hell am I supposed to know Nahuatl? Modern Spanish may have something in common with it, but accounting for linguistic drift, even if I had been able to speak my mother tongue, it would still be as unrecognizable to me as Old English.

  It shouldn’t matter much to me in the grand scheme of things. Not when I’d be facing off with Ewan. But it struck at the sort of shame that was always pressed on me as a young woman. My grandparents fighting about which religion we should practice; my parents fighting about whether to speak Spanish or English at home; the expectation that because I looked a certain way or came from a certain family I had to be a certain way. Failure to live up to those standards meant ridicule. I thought I’d gotten past that, and forged my own identity. But my stint in Mictlan proved that some feelings didn’t actually die, no matter how deep you buried them.

  I wasn’t sure how long I was allowed to wallow before someone came knocking at my door. I lay face down, fatigue and depression seizing me once more in a vice-like grip, even as I tried to talk myself down.

  The knocking got louder and I finally called, “come in.”

  The door creaked open and Dom stepped inside, hands raised as though to ward off blows. Guilt twisted in my stomach, knowing that the gesture was probably necessary. I hadn’t felt much like myself since entering Mictlan. On edge, angry, and unreasonably defensive. Partly it was fear that—like my grandpa—I wouldn’t be welcome, despite my blood. But the incident with Ewan had also left me shaken; he’d been ready to kill Dom, unless I killed him in cold blood, and I’d happily obliged.

  “I’m not going to attack you,” I said glumly, sitting up. “And I’m sorry for running off. I probably screwed us big-time, didn’t I?”

  “No, I think our host is more annoyed with Ewan than you. He keeps hitting on Micca and yelling at the servants. He’s not impressing anyone down here. Do you mind telling me why you flounced, though?”

  I took a deep breath, wishing I knew why I felt so angry.

  I dislike being here, Valerius grumbled. Breaking bread with my enemies.

  I blinked in surprise, the impotent rage suddenly making a lot more sense. It had begun the moment I’d gotten near the city and had escalated when we met with the Lord of Mictlan. Despite my irritation with the demon, a smile stretched my lips.

  “Ah. Apparently it wasn’t me just being a dick. Valerius hates it here. It’s like going back to prison to visit, knowing the warden wants to shove you right back into the cell if he can. But it’s not just him. There are some of my hang-ups in there too. I’d give anything not to be facing Ewan. It seems like everything I knew got turned over on its head and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out how to turn them right-side up again. He took Cat. He framed me for murder. And then he set me up to be killed. I just keep thinking where I should be right now, instead of being chastised by a god I don’t worship and don’t particularly like.”

  Dom sank onto the bedspread beside me and slung an arm around my waist, drawing me into his side.

  “And where would you rather be?” He gazed at me with such wide, earnest eyes that the truth just came tumbling out without my permission.

  “Married, if I had my way. Living in my shitty house in Queens and hopefully within driving distance of Findlay and Cat’s place. She’d have a couple kids that I could spoil rotten. You and I would have retired from the Five and gotten some cushy desk job that paid peanuts but had a great health plan. I didn’t used to want that white picket fence, but right now, I’d kill to have just one normal day.”

  Tears streaked down my face and I used the heel of my hand to wipe absently at my nose.

  “Instead, I managed to get Findlay killed, not to mention all the wolves on that island. Cat will probably never speak to me again, once I tell her what happened. Sophia will grow up without a daddy. You’re all I’ve got left, and I nearly lost you twice this week.”

  “You’ll never lose me,” Dom cupped my face in both hands, forcing me to look into his smoldering brown eyes. “You didn’t stab Findlay. You aren’t responsible for any of this. Cat will be fine because she’s going to have you. I believe that with all of my heart, Nat. I’ve seen you do truly spectacular things since coming back. You’re going to kick Ewan’s ass tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” I sucked in a breath.

  Dom’s eyes softened. He nodded slowly.

  “I guess Mictlantecuhtli found you worthy, after all.”

  “Good thing he doesn’t listen to his wife, then. She hates me.”

  “Actually,” Dom said. “I think she might be on our side.”

  “How do you figure?” I asked.

  “Remember what she said, pure of heart and clear of purpose. What if it was advice? You said it earlier, Ethan is single-minded in his psychopathy. What if she was really saying, insecurity about your identity will make you weak in battle?”

  “So what, I just need to meditate and connect with my inner self?”

  “It can’t hurt,” he shrugged. “You’ve got too much heart to let the world die at the hands of a psycho like Ewan. I don’t know how you’ll do it, but you’ll manage.”

  I wished I had one point of certainty. Just one thing that was truly mine. Findlay was dead, Cat was alone. Even if I won this contest against Ewan, I had so little to look forward to. I needed something real to motivate me, something I could count on.

  “Marry me,” I said suddenly, snapping up to meet his eyes.

  “What?” he asked, stiffly.

  I squeezed his hands. “Marry me, Dom. Right here and right now.”

  He frowned at me, confused by my sudden shift in mood. The longer I thought about it, the more sense it made. If I was going to go into that arena tomorrow, I didn’t want to be Natalia Valdez. I wanted to be Natalia Finch. I wanted to have that tangible tether to him, to know that we were truly in this together.

  He let out a half-chuckle of surprise, as though he couldn’t quite believe we were having this discussion. “Nat, we don’t have anything we need. Priests, witnesses, anything.”

  He had a point, but I wouldn’t be deterred. The idea had taken hold in me, and I wasn’t letting it go.

  “We’ll have a handfasting ceremony,” I said, as my eyes fell once again on the heavy drapes, fastened by a pair of braided cords. They were made of silver and red thread, and seemed almost too decorative for their use. I tore them off the wall and held them up for his inspection.

  “We can make it legal with the state of New York when we get back. But tonight, I want to become your wife. Do you want to become my husband?”

  His face softened, his body seemed to unclench, and he smiled softly.

  “I do, Nat. I really, really do.”

  He reached into his pocket, then slid something cool onto the ring finger of my right hand. A thin gold band sparkled up at me.

  “You made me a ring using alchemy,” I said with a tiny laugh. “What did you use, exactly?”

  “There was gold in the river. I only had to increase the amount. Findlay told me I was being foolish, but I wanted you to know I was serious. Better or worse, I’ll be right here with you, Nat. Till the end.”

  I ignored the fatalistic tone of his voice, straining to remember the handfasting ceremony I’d once witnessed as Declan McCarty’s plus one. I took his hand in mine and then draped the cords around our linked hands, tying them as best I could under the circumstances.

  “Dominic Finch, I promise you that from this day forward, I will be your loving wife. I will respect you, confide in you, support you, and stay by your side. I will be your constant companion and a
steadfast friend on the path we tread together. This is my vow to you.”

  Dom didn’t need to be prompted when I’d finished. His eyes glittered with unbridled happiness. I felt guilty for keeping him at arm’s length for so long. It was clear to me now just how much he loved me. “Natalia Valdez, I promise you that from this day , I will be your loving husband I will respect you, confide in you, support you, and stay by your side. I will be your constant companion and a steadfast friend on the path we tread together. This is my vow to you.”

  It took us a frantic second to get the knot loose so that we could hold each other, but when the strands fell to the bed, still held together by my clumsy tie, our hands found each other at once. My hands fell immediately into his hair, and his hands settled onto my waist.

  “I love you, Dominic Finch,” I breathed as his teeth unerringly sought by throat, nibbling where my pulse ought to have been. He pressed hard against my front and he held me so tight it was a struggle to draw in a breath between us.

  “And I love you,” he said with a smile against my throat. “Natalia Finch.”

  I grinned, even as he pushed me into the mattress. It sounded natural, like I should have been saying it my whole life.

  I had him and he had me, for good or for ill however long the path may have been. And even if that path led only to tomorrow, I’d walk it with Dom at my side.

  chapter

  21

  WE DIDN’T HAVE LONG TO enjoy our honeymoon.

  A few hours of blissful sex and post-coital cuddling in a hot bath later, we were summoned back to the throne room. I didn’t bother to don the armor that I’d arrived in, since no one was going to attack me until the next day. I sashayed into the main hall clad only in my skirt, crop top, the gold ring on my finger and several purple hickeys adorning my neck. I shot the death god a warning glance, almost daring him to comment on my appearance. Because no matter if this place recognized me as one of its own, I wasn’t ever going to be able to embrace this place or its people. I’d been thrust into this conflict against my will, but I was going to fight it on my terms.