by TR Cameron
A Hunt in Magic City
Magic City Chronicles™ Book Five
TR Cameron
Michael Anderle
Martha Carr
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2021 LMBPN Publishing
Cover by Fantasy Book Design
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
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LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First Edition May, 2021
ebook ISBN: 978-1-64971-722-1
Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-723-8
The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-21 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
The Story Continues
Author Notes - TR Cameron
Author Notes - Martha Carr
Other series in the Oriceran Universe:
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
The A Hunt in Magic City Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Dave Hicks
Wendy L Bonell
Diane L. Smith
Dorothy Lloyd
Larry Omans
John Ashmore
Angel LaVey
Paul Westman
If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
Editor
Skyhunter Editing Team
Dedication
For those who seek wonder around every corner and in each turning page. Thank you choosing to share the adventure with me. And, as always, for Dylan and Laurel.
— TR Cameron
Chapter One
Bad thoughts bounced around Ruby Achera’s brain as she hurtled along the desert highway, seeking relief. Highway, hell. Two lanes, imperfectly paved, twisting and turning at random is not my definition of a highway. The motorcycle purred beneath her as she wound through the turns, barely enough of her intellectual capacity devoted to the process to keep her on the road. The rest of it battled the insidious mental messages the artifact in her left forearm pummeled her with. She’d won the initial battle and had presumed the ones to come would be less fierce, or at least less constant. Instead, every time her mind wandered, the Atlantean magic sought to increase its influence upon her.
Those murmurings had pushed her out of bed at two in the morning, sent her straight to the motorcycle and out onto the road. The full black helmet completely obscured her features, the anonymity giving her a sense of freedom. Her black leather uniform top hid the tattoo that was the external proof of the artifact’s existence. On its own, the bottom layer of her costume was generic enough not to connect to her identity as Magic City’s defender, and the tunic and trousers offered the best protection possible against any sort of damage short of a full suit of body armor. Her high boots laced halfway up her calves, and thin riding gloves covered her hands to protect them from the whipping sand.
She carried fewer weapons than usual because Ruby Achera, allegedly adopted scion of the family who owned Spirits casino on the Ely Strip, wouldn’t have a good reason to lug them around. The artifact mocked her for all the identities she possessed, and she growled and accelerated. The ARCH 1 leapt underneath her like an eager horse and sped forward. Although as a Mist Elf she could always turn to her magic, she still hadn’t been comfortable leaving all of her offensive tools behind. A document tube strapped diagonally across her back concealed her sword, as yet unnamed, and the pair of personalities it contained. She had turned to them more than once to help her fight off the artifact’s influence, but even that had become more a chore than a relief.
This moment, flying along the highway in the dark, under the stars, alone in the middle of nowhere, was decidedly not a chore. It gave her a sense of liberation, something she hadn’t felt too often since her return to Magic City. Out here, she could even portion off a part of her thoughts to consider the future, about the techno-magical items she might create, about where her relationship with Demetrius could go, about fulfilling her destiny on the other planet.
A low chuckle rumbled through her mind. Indeed. Once you have amassed all that power, then I will take you as my own.
“Shut the hell up, you scummy bastard.” She’d turned insulting the artifact into a stupid game that nonetheless amused her, and her names for it ranged from the most sophisticated insults to the basest epithets. She stiffened slightly as her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she didn’t dare take her focus off the highway to see who sought her attention. You definitely don’t text and drive when you’re on a motorcycle, not if you want to be alive at the end of the ride.
A notice at the side of the road proclaimed Cherin, Nevada, a mile ahead. The sign was as dilapidated as the town it heralded, a remnant of a time left behind by the modern world. She’d been through the area several times before on rides similar to this one, though not with the artifact murmuring in her head and not quite so late at night. It was a crossroads with an old filling station, now shut down, a four-unit motel that had probably been dismal in its prime but was currently clearly vacant and boarded up, and what had been a diner, a squat building that had mostly fallen in upon itself. That reminds me, we still need to clear that second escape tunnel from the bunker. They’d discovered the passage ended beneath a collapsed building, and Margrave assured her it would be easy enough to build up a protective structure not visible from the outside to permit its use.
The voice in her head offered no comment on that particular plan, and she sighed in relief. She came around a bend and spotted the gas station ahead to her right, opposite the diner on her left. The once-motel held a position on the diagonal from the gas station across the intersection.
A glint caught her eye from a place where a glimmer shouldn’t be, the roof of the squat building that serviced the fuel pumps. It preceded the sound by only an instant, the report of a rifle loud and echoing in the empty desert. Guess there’s no need for a silencer out here, her brain supplied unhelpfully. The bike jerked and flipped, sending her hurtling through the air. Front tire hit, her min
d offered, again with no particular benefit.
Her reflexive force shield, which had saved her when the bar at the Mist had exploded in her face to welcome her back to town, was already forming around her. She automatically calculated angles and trajectory, allowing the protective cocoon to solidify before using more force magic to cushion her landing and keep her from scraping her way across the road. Feedback from the impact and continued motion transmitted through the shield as a sensation similar to pain, but nothing like the real damage and agony the accident would’ve caused.
She wobbled up to her feet, shivering with adrenaline. The involuntary meeting with the ground had spider-webbed her faceplate, and she pulled off the helmet and dropped it to the pavement. She’d landed more or less in the middle of the intersection before sliding through it. Motion drew her eye to the three figures advancing toward her, one from the diner, one from the gas station, and one from the hotel. The third was the nearest, so she charged that one.
The figure was human, a woman, and raised a rifle in response to her rush. It spat bullets out at her in a stream, and Ruby slashed her hand across on a diagonal, creating an angled shield to intercept and deflect them. No way they’ve got anti-magic rounds. If they were that competent, they wouldn’t have missed me and hit the bike in the first place. She didn’t make the mistake of assuming they were amateurs. Probably, they were pretty good at what they did, but no one would send their most expensive team against Ruby Achera. There would be no reason since as far as the world knew, she was the dilettante adopted human daughter of wealthy parents. Entrepreneur. Innovator. The words she’d used with her family in jest filtered through her mind randomly.
Ruby snarled, “Okay, wench, innovate this.” At a distance of ten feet, she sent a large force wave at the other woman, throwing her backward toward the motel. Ruby continued running, feeling the presence of the rest of the enemy team. If she stopped, they’d be in range in an instant. As it was, handgun rounds splatted near her, but none connected. Even if they had, her personal shield, which lay a couple of inches away from her skin, would have dealt with them handily. As long as they aren’t super heavy caliber, that is. The things she’d read suggested that a big enough bullet could deliver sufficient kinetic energy even through a shield to take her out of the fight, and without anyone around to help, that would likely be fatal.
The woman pushed herself to her feet with her back pressed against a plywood panel covering the entrance to one of the middle units for support. Ruby strengthened her shield, pumped some magic into her muscles to increase her speed and strength, and slammed into her foe, leading with her shoulder.
In the instant before impact, her opponent’s eyes widened, and she tried to bring the rifle up toward Ruby’s face. It got caught between their bodies as the collision blasted the woman back through the plywood, sending both of them tumbling into the room. Dust and the scent of sour mold filled her senses, and she gagged before launching another force wave outward to clear the air of nearby particles. The plaster in the ceiling cracked, the walls creaked, and moving things on the floor scuttled further away. The woman under her groaned weakly, and Ruby lifted far enough to whip an elbow into the woman’s head, knocking her out at a minimum. It wasn’t time for niceties, not with at least two more on the way. And probably a third, given the rifle shot.
A four-member team made sense. Guess the only question is whether the rifle person will stay on watch in case I try to escape. Fifty-fifty chance. The others were doubtless approaching the motel at that very second, hopefully with enough caution to slow them a little. Ruby called up a small ball of light in her left hand and used it to examine the woman, finding what she was looking for after only a couple of moments. The radio was a military knockoff often adopted by private security. Also by, whoever these guys are. Wonder if they’re from Aces. I wouldn’t be surprised if those bastards were behind this. Still, why would they care about Ruby Achera?
Those thoughts cascaded through her mind unproductively as she liberated the radio and tucked the earpiece into her ear. No sound was present at the moment, which she attributed to good discipline. If she’d been dealing with amateurs, she would’ve expected conversation. Professionals only talked when they needed to. She checked the room, staying low and extending the light around, and discovered connecting doors to both sides. A window looked out onto an expanse of dirt and scrub in the back, and the notion of slipping under a veil and escaping was immediately appealing.
She wasn’t going to do that for a bunch of reasons. First, she wanted to know why these people had targeted her in particular. Second, she needed to know how they’d found her riding in the desert in the middle of the night. Third, and perhaps most importantly, she had to see if they had any link to Aces Security or any of the other logical connections in town that Gabriel Sloane might’ve contracted before his death. Because if he left instructions behind when he shuffled off to the afterlife, that could be bad. Really bad.
She stood and moved toward the connecting door that led to the next unit over, the other occupying the center of the building. Fourth, you scumbags wrecked my beautiful bike. Somebody’s going to pay for that.
Chapter Two
The room on the opposite side of the door was as wrecked as the one she’d left. A small nightstand was disintegrating beside a bed with a half-broken frame. This chamber looked like it might have hosted a party at some point, to judge by the beer cans scattered around.
The open door threw moonlight into the space, illuminating the most important feature of the room. A man dressed in the same black fatigues as the woman she’d defeated, raising an identical rifle. Ruby said, “No, I don’t think so.” The statement held no warmth or amusement. Fury battered at her mental defenses with the taste of the artifact’s influence underlying it. She reached out with her force magic and grabbed the weapon, yanking her arm back to hurl it across the chamber. The man slapped the release catch so he didn’t go with it, unfortunately, and drew the pair of pistols holstered at his thighs.
Ruby shook her head. “I said, no.” She thrust out her palms and blasted each weapon with a bolt of force, knocking them away. “Here’s the deal, scumbag. You and your friends have made a huge bloody mistake. Now you’re going to tell me everything you know about what brought you here and how you found me, or I’ll break each bone in your body until you do. Starting with these.” She reached out her hand and squeezed, imagining a fist gathering around his fingers, curling them inward. His bones snapped with a series of audible pops. Dark elation surged inside her, and she pushed it away with a growl. I’m in charge, you bastard. The Atlantean’s laughter rippled in her skull.
She strode forward unhurriedly, and he backed toward the room’s exit, cradling his crushed appendage. A sharp gesture summoned a wall of force to block the doorway he’d entered through and continued her advance. He growled something obscene and drew a knife with his functional hand. Ruby shook her head again. “Okay, you don’t seem to get it. So, take your shot.” She spread her arms wide, and he darted in and stabbed the blade at her chest.
Her left arm whipped around in a block, intercepting the point and causing it to scrape on her shield as she pushed it harmlessly away. I cut that one a little too close. Sure, it’s unlikely he’d have an anti-magic weapon, but it was still a dumbass move. She circled her right hand underneath and grabbed his wrist, then gave it a subtle twist and yanked to pull him forward. His shins banged off the bed, and he went down, the remaining structure collapsing beneath him and puffing out another cloud of dust and who knew what else.
She pushed the particles away from herself with magic while he coughed and gagged. When he’d recovered enough to roll over and glare at her, she said, “Want to live? Tell me something about what brought you here.”
His voice was harsh, raspy, almost inaudible despite his effort to push words out of his throat. “Wrong information, apparently. We were targeting a human.” He broke into a wave of coughing. Well, I can’t let y
ou report back now. I bet Diana and her team have somewhere you can cool your heels for a while.
The earpiece crackled with the words “Delta, Delta, Delta,” and the man’s eyes widened. His body lurched reflexively toward the door, and she instantly realized that whatever the code meant, he didn’t want to be in the motel when it happened. Therefore, neither did she. She raced for the doorway, summoning an additional shield over the one that coated her body. A whistling sound signaled the arrival of something that slammed into and through the plywood covering the window.
The room behind her exploded, sending her hurtling forward in a tumble. The initial sound repeated as another munition landed, and the noise of the motel collapsing in on itself joined. Not much loyalty from your comrades. She rolled to her feet and located the gas station building, calling up a double-strength shield facing in that direction and dashing in a diagonal to the right away from it. Where’s contestant number three? Come out, come out, wherever you are.