by Domino Finn
I snarled. The Vucari couldn't even retreat properly. I closed my eyes and jumped into Petrovic again. I lowered my shoulder and charged.
"We will not die!" yelled the rallying Vucari.
With a crash, I bowled him over.
The sight was too much for some of them. Connor running. Their fearless leader attacking as their enemy. The mass of Vucari fled. Only two retained the bloodlust to fight at the ugly one's side. The odds had irrevocably turned.
The DROP team focused all their fire on a single unlucky foe. The rifles discharged until clicking empty. Milena downed another with the BFG.
Vukasin was stronger than the others, but he was missing a head. Not a normal head, mind you, but a mean pagan wolf head with giant fangs. I didn't realize the disability until the Vucari grappling me chewed at my arm and gained the upper hand. He forced me to my back. I worked my strength. He worked his leverage. It was a stalemate.
Evan Cross put a rifle to the base of the subhuman's skull and fired. Multiple rounds shredded his head. One of the bullets popped through the neck and found Petrovic.
"Ouch!" I screamed, snapping back into my own body. "That hurt!"
Evan gazed at me flatly. "No one likes a whiny necromancer, Cisco."
I rubbed the imaginary wound on my chest and pouted.
Milena dropped the BFG to the ground. She ran over and smothered me with a hug. The battlefield was clear.
All said and done, five dead Vucari were all that remained, including Petrovic. The real kills had only come at the end of the skirmish, when their numbers were vastly overwhelmed. Tough sons of bitches, I give them that. Evan checked each of the bodies and made sure they were down for good.
He ordered his men to assess the wounded while he tended to Emily. Half the DROP team was hurt with varying degrees of severity. One of them looked dead. The chaos of the battle had worked out in their favor, though. The Vucari were damage sponges, but the bullets and squad tactics had mostly kept them at bay.
Still, five hurt officers was gonna raise a lot of eyebrows. And the men had now seen more than most did in a lifetime. Their ideas—their beliefs—would be forever altered.
I hope I didn't just ruin my best friend's police unit. But mostly, I hoped Emily was okay.
I struggled to my feet. Milena helped me over to Emily.
"I'm fine," she asserted, before I even reached her. Her dress was burned open, the skin on her side blackened. Her hand covered in blood. Emily pressed it to the wound and tried to stand. Every bit as stubborn as I was.
"Stay on the ground," said Evan, kneeling by her. "You need medical attention. Fire Rescue's on the way.
"We're not done yet," she protested.
"I know," he said.
"Um, Cisco?" chimed in Milena, pointing to my thrall. "Your zombie's on fire."
Vukasin was doing an admirable job of ignoring the continued flames. By now much of his skin was blackened, but it hadn't crisped away yet.
"Get in the water, Wolfman," I commanded.
Without me driving, the thrall mindlessly stomped toward the River.
Milena cocked her head. "If the only wolf part of him was his head and he's decapitated, is he still a wolfman?"
"Philosophy 101," I muttered. "Classic use of the half man, half wolf, half zombie paradox."
"I'm pretty sure you can't have three halves," noted Emily, piling on through gritted teeth.
Milena smirked. "Plus, technically, wolfmen have humanoid faces."
I gave them both a patronizing smile. "It's great to see you ladies finally getting along."
We watched my zombie extinguish himself in the water.
"I don't like that vile thing," confessed Connor from above. All eyes went up to where he protruded from the submarine's top hatch. In one arm he held my little girl, and with the other he pointed a pistol at her head.
"Don't do it!" cried Evan hysterically.
I clenched my jaw and made my way to the platform's edge. Evan checked his rifle, dropped it on the ground, then pulled off his jacket to reveal a pair of Colt Diamondback revolvers in shoulder holsters.
"What can I do?" asked Milena.
"Stay close to Petrovic," I answered.
This was it. Connor's endgame. Everything else had been a prelude.
I was weak. I could barely walk. It physically hurt to channel the shadow. But I was ready.
Without a word to the others, I waded into the water and climbed onto the deck of the Soviet sub, pulling my zombie up behind me.
Chapter 45
"I'm gonna have to ask you to stop right there," said Connor, giving Fran a forceful shake.
I paused on the deck of the submarine.
Fran was a frightened doe in his arms. Lean frame and wide eyes. Despite her fear, her outward appearance remained calm. Good girl.
"I want my daughter back," said Evan, drawing a revolver and moving to the edge of the concrete dock. Connor's vantage was a good twenty feet above us.
"Would you really risk her life with such a reckless move?" asked the jinn.
"He's bluffing," I said. "Jinns can only hurt people who've made deals with them. He can't touch Fran."
Connor flashed a sly grin. "Very well, Cisco. I didn't want to be so heartless, but it appears you require a demonstration."
Connor reared the grip of the pistol and smacked the side of Fran's head. She yelped and tried to scramble away, but the jinn kept her pinned to his body.
"Bastard!" I yelled. Evan raised his gun.
Connor used the girl as a body shield and laughed boldly. "Put your weapon away, Detective," he ordered. "I won't ask twice."
The muscles in Evan's arms and shoulders were wound as tight as possible. He worked his jaw but holstered the pistol.
"Thank you," said the jinn. He pointed at my friend and fired once. Evan clutched his chest and fell. Fran screamed hysterically.
Milena grabbed the collar of Evan's vest to drag him away. She had trouble with the weight, but Evan kicked his feet to help her. They pulled back to Emily and the DROP team.
"Oh, relax," said the jinn, rolling his eyes. "Lieutenant Cross hasn't entered any bargains with me so I can't hurt him."
"Get off me," grumbled Evan, shrugging them away. He wiped the slug from his bulletproof vest.
Connor turned to me. "Doesn't anybody listen to you?" His gaze strayed to my thrall beside me. "Beside your pet, that is." He considered Petrovic. "Now this one is a different story. You turned my ally against me. Clever."
The jinn fired three rounds at him. The zombie took two in the chest. Another ricocheted off the deck by my foot. I never flinched. My pet didn't look the worse for wear either.
Connor twisted his jaw in amusement. "A subhuman zombie. An impressive gambit, Cisco." His face suddenly went straight, like he was bored with the act. "Now lose the pet. Dispel it."
I didn't move.
The jinn pressed the pistol into my daughter's head. "Dispel it."
My allies huddled on the dock, watching. Emily was seriously wounded, waiting on the paramedics. Evan and Milena had their hands tied. The rest of the DROP team was in no shape to continue either. Petrovic was my only weapon against Connor.
No, not my only weapon. Not even the best one.
With a wordless command, Vukasin Petrovic went limp. He crumpled to deck, slid down the rounded surface of the sub, and plopped into the water. Gone for good.
"Excellent," said Connor with renewed satisfaction. "Now, follow me. If you don't, I kill the girl. If anyone else enters, I kill the girl. Understood?"
I ground my teeth and nodded. The jinn made a show of checking with all the spectators, in case they wanted to object. Then he pulled Fran down the hatch with him.
I loosened the cloth wrapping on the Horn that hung at my belt. I felt the familiar thrum of its power. Then I hopped onto the ladder, climbed to the hatch, and descended inside.
I didn't know a damn thing about submarines or military vessels. I had no idea what to
expect within. I climbed down silently. At the foot of the ladder, my feet echoed on the grated floor. A long metal hall stretched in two directions.
A few members of the Agua Fuego cartel stood at a distance. Mercenaries, like the ones I'd infiltrated earlier. It made sense. Something this size couldn't be crewed by one man, jinn or no. Connor had probably rented himself a bunch of South American and Russian ex-soldiers to operate his shiny purchase.
It was a good thing I hadn't gotten the best of Connor on the dock. In my bloodlust, I'd almost lost sight of my goal. Fran. Alone in here, with the mercenaries. If I had successfully defeated Connor, there was no doubt they would've killed my daughter and split.
I took a heavy breath, then chose a path. My alligator boots rang out on the grill. The mercenaries backed away, staying on the fringes of my vision. They were afraid of me.
The hallway was narrow, the roof low, the atmosphere claustrophobic. No place to maneuver in this sardine can, but there was nothing for it. I stomped ahead, making a racket the entire way. Connor waited at the end of the hall beside an open hatch. My insides tightened at the sight of my daughter in the jinn's hands.
"It's stifling in here," he said, his voice tinny against the walls. "Being surrounded by water instead of air. I feel like a pathetic Nether creature. This is what I'm forced into."
"You made a mistake," I told him. "You might be able to blink around in here, but you can't run to the Aether. Not without contacting the open sky."
His lip curled. "So you wish to end this. That's what you're saying?"
I growled. "You messed with my family."
Connor was nonplussed. "You have it backwards, Cisco. Emily was never your family. She never loved you. She was engineered for you. Manufactured. Her light to your shadow. Fake from the beginning."
I sneered. "My love was never fake. I don't care that it was built on a lie. I built it. That means something to me."
He chuckled dismissively at the entire human race.
"Please," squeaked Fran. "Let me go."
Connor's face went dark. He rapped her head with the gun. Not too hard, this time. "What did I say about talking, dear?"
The girl buttoned her lips and held her breath.
Connor turned to me and flinched away in time for my bronze knife to clatter against the wall directly behind him. He shook for a moment and pulled Fran up to cover his face.
"Are you crazy?" he asked.
I kept my voice low and steady so he wouldn't miss a thing. "If you ever hit her again, it'll be the last time you do anything."
Connor watched me strangely. Unsure. He stood straighter and rested the pistol against her head. He didn't want a fight, I reminded myself.
Poor Fran didn't have any such confidence. Each of her whimpers was a dagger in my side.
"It's okay," I assured her. She didn't seem to hear me. "Fran," I said softly. "Look at me. It's going to be okay."
The poor girl barely acknowledged me. She was frozen in terror.
"What did you do to her?" I spat. "How could you make a deal with a kid?"
He shrugged like it was nothing. "The little one and I struck a bargain on her seventh birthday," he revealed. He looked into her eyes. "I told her magic was real and I would teach it to her, as long as she didn't tell anyone. She couldn't agree fast enough."
I clenched my fists. He'd gotten Emily the same way, more or less. Passing through family members like a cold. Except once he had his hooks in them, they were stuck with him forever. I couldn't bear the thought of a nine-year-old being doomed to that fate.
The jinn saw the rage burning on my face. He taunted me further, his voice light and feathery. "Well, I needed a backup, Cisco. I needed your lineage to find the Horn. I might need it to access its power."
My lineage. That's why Connor had looked into my family's genealogy. He was looking for more relatives. More backups. Once everything with me had gone pear-shaped and he lost the Horn, his plans evolved. Except I didn't have any siblings or relatives. Tunji had made sure of that too.
That meant all of Connor's plans now hinged on Fran. Now and in the future.
I unwrapped the artifact and let the cloth covering fall to the floor.
"I have the Horn," I said firmly.
And with that, the Spaniard materialized between us.
Chapter 46
Connor Hatch admired the wraith. The breastplate. The side-sword. The gnarled fingers, skull, and glowing red eyes. Connor looked upon what would make most men shudder without so much as a blink.
"The Spaniard," he said reverently. "A man who escaped the limits of his humanity. You surprise me again, Cisco." Connor's hold on Fran loosened as he admired the apparition. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance after all these decades."
Holy crap. Decades? Connor had been searching for the Horn for a long time. It must be powerful for a jinn to sacrifice so much. And I'd done what the Spaniard feared: I'd brought the Horn right to him. I hoped this wasn't a huge mistake.
The Spaniard clasped his hands behind his back and hovered closer to the jinn. "Connor Hatch," he rasped inquisitively. "For all intents and purposes, a higher being. The pleasure is mine. I have long waited for this moment as well."
Connor flicked his eyes to me cautiously. I swallowed.
The Spaniard didn't waste time. "I seek my freedom, jinn."
Uh... What?
Connor's beard and lips pulled away from his teeth. He laughed. "Then we have similar goals, Spaniard. Kill Cisco Suarez, let me assume the Horn, and assist me in a single pursuit. Do these things and I will set you free, whether I succeed or fail. You have my word."
I narrowed my eyes. Connor was overeager to strike a deal. For a jinn, one so bound to terms, it seemed careless.
"He is the bearer of the Horn," stated the wraith evenly. "I am unable to harm him or work counter to his interests."
"Could've fooled me," I warned.
His red eyes smoldered without passion and flicked back to Connor. "However, if you agree to free me, I will guide you through your needs."
The jinn's face tightened. "What worth are your words without the Horn? If I assume the artifact then you'll listen to my commands regardless."
"Perhaps. But I am the only one who can persuade the bearer to hand it over in the first place."
"Fat chance," I said. They ignored me, locked in their own negotiations. I eyed Fran, wondering how many seconds it would take to charge the jinn and yank her free.
Connor pursed his lips and studied the phantom. The jinn was a master of manipulation. He had to be aware of more angles than I was. Trusting the wraith was obviously a risk. Yet Connor took only a handful of seconds before nodding in satisfaction. "We have a bargain, then."
If I was supposed to feel something accompanying the words—a presence of binding energy or a pact taking hold—I didn't. Were the jinn's bargains so easy to make?
"How about it, Cisco?" asked Connor, wagging his pistol. "You know all I want is the Horn."
I frowned. I had no intention of handing it over. To be honest, I wasn't sure whether the wraith was acting or not, but I had to play my part. "I'm open to the possibility. But I need some assurances."
Connor smiled pleasantly. "Like what?"
I had to be careful here. He couldn't hurt me, but he could hurt Fran. Theoretically the wraith was now susceptible as well, but I doubted Connor could affect the spirit. He wasn't a necromancer, after all.
I took measured steps toward the jinn. He made a reciprocal movement. Circumspect. Still shielding himself with my daughter. The wraith stepped from between us and let Connor pass.
"You can't touch Fran," I said firmly. "Forever. Not now. Not ten years from now. She'll never be a part of your schemes. Never hurt by your actions. Ever."
Connor looked into the child's eyes, almost as if he would regret making that promise.
Behind the jinn, the Spaniard opened his bony hand. The bronze knife scratched the floor grating as it whisked thr
ough the air and into his gloved palm.
Connor cocked his ear to the sound and started to turn.
I stepped forward quickly, regaining the jinn's attention. "The same goes for Emily. She served you faithfully for over ten years. You've used her enough. You can't touch them, directly or otherwise."
Connor lifted his chin to consider.
"For that matter," I added, "you'll agree to leave their families alone. Emily's husband. Her son. Any other kids they might spit out. And their kids too."
The jinn opened his mouth to object. But I wasn't done.
"You know what?" I spoke over him, just getting started. "That's not enough. This can't happen again." I shoved a finger toward the jinn. "You're not allowed to come at me through other people. Beating up old men and kidnapping children. You're not allowed to twist my arm by threatening my friends. I don't care if it's my soul mate or the old lady who sells me café con leche every morning."
Connor stood fifteen feet from me, not wanting to approach further. There was enough shadow to slide close, but I wasn't sure I had the juice. Behind him, the wraith hovered near with the ceremonial knife, looking to me for the word. Now if I could only get Fran away.
"That would limit me greatly," said Connor. "Those are expensive terms."
I couldn't believe Connor was actually considering the offer. It was a stall tactic. The wraith's eyes flared in anticipation. I ignored him and took in the image of Fran in Connor's arms. Her cute cheeks. Her crooked smile that ended in dimples.
"In potential cost," I admitted. "Maybe. But the actual cost to you is nothing: Spare one life, right here, right now. For decades you plotted to find the Horn. For years you desired the power it holds. You can get everything you sought with a simple nod of your head, all for the cost of handing an innocent girl over. It's a simple trade."
Connor ruffled a hand through his beard. He turned to my companion. The Spaniard backed away and deftly hid the knife.
"I saw your library at the island compound," I said, raising the Horn. "I know you're a collector above all others. I know you can't turn this piece down."