city of dragons 03 - fire magic

by crowe, val st

  Felicity, Connor, and I slowly moved closer to the desk.

  We peered over on one side.

  Darla stood on the other. She pointed. “Here is the entrance. It’s blocked off, but it shouldn’t be a problem to use magic to move the rubble.”

  “Something you couldn’t do?” I said. Why did she want me here?

  “Our magic is otherwise engaged, I’m afraid. We do have very dangerous prisoners here, and we mustn’t let them escape. We actually had an escape in the wake of this drake situation, due to the fact that our magic was weakened. A very powerful dragon got out. Luckily, he was caught and killed before he could do any damage.”

  I furrowed my brow. Was it possible that everything that Darla was saying was truly on the up-and-up? Maybe she really did need our help? “So, we go in here, then?” I pointed to the map.

  “Yes,” she said. “Now, the area around here is where all the drakes should be concentrated. As far as we know, they can’t get further than this point, but we haven’t been down to investigate or anything. Still, we think this area is blocked off, or they would have gotten out and would be roaming the streets by now.”

  I nodded.

  “What you have to understand about feral drakes is that they are strong and they are single-minded in their desire for flesh. They will jump on you and rip the meat from your bones. They cannot be reasoned with. They have lost their capacity for language or higher thought. They are pure instinct—vicious predators who feel no pain and have no reason to stop. They are unstoppable unless they are dead.”

  * * *

  Darla said that there was no one alive in the tunnels, besides the drakes, who supposedly didn’t speak anymore, so we were all surprised that the first thing we heard when we used magic to pull aside the rubble and step into the tunnel was a small voice whispering for help.

  I threw a fireball up into the air and used magic to keep it floating there.

  The tunnel resembled old subway tunnels or something. There was an arched ceiling made of bricks, and the light from my fireball flickered against them. The walls and floor were brick too—ancient, crumbly brick.

  What had these tunnels been built for? Who builds tunnels near an ocean anyway?

  I found this place very strange.

  Something came staggering toward us.

  We all tensed, all three of us bringing up our machetes.

  The figure emerged into the light. It was a woman—human from the looks of it—with glasses askew on her face. One of the lenses had been busted out. Her hair hung in disheveled clumps around her face. She had a wound on her forehead and one on her arm. “Help me,” she said again.

  I pointed my machete at her. “Who are you?”

  “Linda. Who are you?” she said. “Where’s Darla? The drakes got my talismans, and I couldn’t protect myself. I’ve been hiding from them. They’re not very smart, and the water throws off their scent.”

  “Water?” I said.

  “The tunnels flood at high tide.”

  Maybe I remembered something about that.

  “They’ll be coming,” she said.

  “Get behind us,” I said. I would have told her to leave, but we’d sealed the exit with rubble again. We didn’t want the drakes getting out.

  She scurried between Felicity and me, and stood right behind me.

  I could feel her looking over my shoulder, hear the sound of her labored breath. “So, Linda,” I said. “How’d you survive when no one else did?”

  “I… I don’t know,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “You don’t have good tricks for beating these things?”

  “Hide,” she said. “Run and hide.”

  Well, that wasn’t happening. I let out a breath, and I nodded at Felicity and Connor. “All right, guys. One hand on your talisman, one hand on your machete. Stay close, stay alert. Let’s move.”

  “You should let us go first,” said Felicity in a low voice.

  “What?” I said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She shot a meaningful glance at my stomach.

  I sighed. “All right, fine. You guys first.” Damn, it was hard to concede something like that. Felicity and Connor were my family and if anything happened to them…

  But now wasn’t the time to think those sorts of thoughts. Now was the time for confidence and strength. We’d come here to kill crazed drakes, and we were going to do it. And everyone was going to get out alive.

  Hell, everyone was going to get out without a scratch.

  Felicity and Connor made their way over the brick floor.

  I came behind them, bringing along my fire ball overhead. It illuminated a small circle, but there was nothing to see.

  Everything was the same—old bricks. Some crumbled. Some covered in barnacles. A few missing here and there. Bricks overhead, bricks underfoot.

  As we stepped forward, our feet hit the bricks. Not loudly, because some of the bricks were still wet, but there was noise. It seemed to echo in the tunnels, louder because there was no other noise.

  The wet bricks were slippery, and so we went slowly.

  It smelled strongly of the sea—a closed-in briny smell, like a salty tomb.

  Don’t think like that, I scolded myself. Geez, what was wrong with me?

  At any moment, the drakes would come for us. They’d run at us headlong. Would they scream or growl? Would they make inhuman shrieking noises? I wasn’t looking forward to seeing them, to fighting them.

  I gripped my machete tighter. It was starting to feel slippery in my palm.

  Behind me, Linda’s breath was a rasp. She was still terrified, even close to us. That couldn’t be good news, could it?

  Man, I was beginning to think this had been a terrible idea. Linda had said something about talismans, and Darla had indicated all of the people at the Order were well-versed in magic. How many magically inclined people had been taken down by these crazed drakes? What made us think we were going to stand a chance?

  A streak of movement out of the corner of my eye.

  I turned, all my muscles on high alert, my magic flowing through my limbs, ready to be released.

  But all I saw were bricks.

  I reached up with magic for the fire ball, moved it around, trying to see more.

  Bricks. Bricks. Bricks and barnacles.

  Linda screamed.

  I whirled.

  A drake had her. It was black and red with spikes on its head and neck. It had rows of sharp teeth sunk into Linda’s shoulder.

  I thrust magic at the drake, pushing it away from her, blasting it into the wall.

  Linda let out a squeal of pain as its teeth took a chunk of her along with it.

  “Sorry,” I said, rushing for her.

  Felicity was going for the drake, slashing with her machete.

  I reached for Linda.

  And another drake emerged from the darkness—green and blue with yellow, reptilian eyes. It sunk claws into Linda’s midsection, pulling her away from me, into the darkness.

  She screamed again. Screamed and screamed and…

  Stopped.

  I moved the fire ball frantically, searching for her.

  And then I found her, the drake’s teeth in her neck, her throat ripped out—blood spraying the brick walls.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Linda!” I cried hoarsely.

  But Linda was gone. Her eyes were glassy, and she moved in jerky rag-doll like motions as the drake worried at her neck. It was like a wild animal unleashed, tearing away hunks of her flesh with its claws, shoving them into its mouth, putting its teeth directly to her skin.

  I marched over, machete high above my head. I swung hard, putting the force of magic behind my arms.

  My machete connected with the drake’s neck, taking its head cleanly off its shoulders.

  I turned to see that Felicity was standing over a headless drake as well.

  Connor was standing with his back to us, arms wide, legs far apart, machete at the read
y.

  “Two down,” I said.

  “Three to go,” said Felicity.

  We flanked Connor.

  “Linda?” he said, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

  “She’s gone,” I said.

  “Geez.” He swallowed hard.

  “We need to stay close,” I whispered.

  “Back to back,” said Felicity.

  We rearranged ourselves so that we all had our backs in, faces out. This way, we could see in three directions. Nothing was sneaking up behind us.

  With Connor taking the lead, we started off again, taking slow steps deeper into the tunnel. The fireball over us cast flickering light over everything.

  The bricks went on and on.

  We moved forward, one foot ahead of the other, further and further away from the bodies.

  Felicity yelped.

  I turned, bringing up my machete.

  But she’d just fallen down on her butt. She was pushing herself to her feet, dusting her backside with her free hand. “Fucking slippery bricks,” she muttered.

  “You okay?” I said.

  “Yeah, I’m—”

  “Penny!” screeched Connor.

  I whirled back around, just in time to see the remaining three drakes hurling themselves out of the darkness at us. I stabbed blindly, slashing the air with my machete, connecting with nothing.

  One drake snarled. It had a flat-ridged snout, and it swiped its claws at me, catching the flesh of my arm.

  I cried out, more in shock than pain. It was a shallow scratch. I thrust with my machete.

  Snout swiped again, reaching for my midsection.

  I leaped out of the way just in time.

  Felicity was back on the ground behind me, struggling to get to her feet, swearing under her breath. Another drake was over her, this one with green scales on its face.

  “Felicity!” I yelled, thrusting my hand at her.

  She snatched it.

  I hauled her to her feet.

  Snout came at me, jaw wide, teeth glistening with drool. It had double rows of teeth, all razor sharp and gleaming.

  I backed up and hit the same slippery brick that had been tripping up Felicity. I was on the floor in seconds, pain glancing through my hips at the impact.

  Snout was on top of me.

  Felicity was screaming.

  I was screaming.

  Connor was screaming.

  I brought up my machete and plunged it between those rows of teeth. The blade went in with a sickening slurping sound, piercing Snout’s upper palate, singing through the bone of its skull and hitting its brain.

  Snout stopped moving.

  His motionless body fell directly onto me.

  Yuck. I used magic to push him off me. I yanked the machete out of the monster, breathing hard. I pushed myself to a standing position.

  Everyone was still screaming.

  Felicity was hacking at the neck of Green Scales. Blood was spurting everywhere.

  I pushed her out of the way. I stared at Green Scales, gathering my magic. I had seen Alastair do something like this once, and I had thought…

  Green Scales’ head exploded in gore and bits of brain of bone.

  It spattered me and Felicity.

  Double yuck.

  But I could still hear Connor, so I turned and saw that he was on his back, the last drake on top of him. Connor had his arm in the drake’s mouth, like he was fending off an attacking dog. There was blood welling up where its teeth sank into Connor’s skin. (Funny thing about gargoyles. Their skin had all the properties of stone except for the fact it was pierceable.)

  I raised my machete over my head—

  And Felicity beat me to it, skewering the drake on Connor through its eyeball.

  The drake let out a keening sound that died in its throat. Its jaws relaxed on Connor’s arm.

  Connor put his foot against the drake’s chest and shoved.

  The drake toppled to the ground.

  It was quiet.

  Connor let out a wheezing breath. “Let’s stick to vampires, huh?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The last time that Felicity, Connor, and I killed things, we’d come back to my apartment and made food and listened to music and drank wine.

  This time, we were all too disgusted and exhausted for anything like that.

  I went home, took a shower, ate some Greek yogurt, and toppled into bed.

  I slept like a dead woman.

  The next morning, I was awakened by Becky, who was knocking on my apartment door. I made it there, bleary and wrapped in my robe.

  “Sorry, Ms. Caspian,” she said to me. “But she says she’s with the police.”

  “Who does?” I said.

  “I do,” said a voice from behind Becky. “I’m Detective Christiane Dirk. I want to ask you some questions about Alastair Cooper.”

  I peered over Becky’s shoulder to see a woman in a navy pants suit. She had dark hair which she’d pulled into a sleek bun at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a lot of eyeliner.

  Ask me some questions, huh? I knew that drill. This was the way Lachlan and I acted when we were interrogating a suspect.

  “What’s there to know about Alastair?” I said. “He was killed by a slayer, right? It’s next to impossible to solve slayer cases.” Of course, Lachlan said that was because there wasn’t a body. In this case, there was a body. It should really be as simple as figuring out which slayers supplied the dealer, who they had in custody. Then pulling in those slayers for questioning.

  “I’m not sure that he was killed by a slayer,” said Detective Dirk.

  Yeah, so she was here to try to catch me off guard. She thought I killed Alastair. I had to admit that I had a hell of a motive, didn’t I? But I’d be damned if I was going to let this lady question me in my robe. I smiled over Becky. “Well, detective, now’s not a great time. Maybe give me an hour or two for breakfast and a shower?”

  “You want me to come back in a few hours?”

  “I’ll meet you at the station if that’s more convenient,” I said in an overly sweet voice. That would give me the chance to find Lachlan and ask him what the hell was going on.

  * * *

  “She’s from Baltimore,” said Lachlan who was fiddling with a pen at his desk. His desk was generally completely empty. I didn’t even know he had a pen. “Apparently in Baltimore, they have an entire department for magical creatures, and we don’t, even though we’re like the magical-creature capital of the world. So, anyway, it’s no big deal for Baltimore to loan out a magical creature cop. No one told me that they were bringing her in. I got blindsided when she showed up this morning asking for my alibi the night Alastair disappeared.”

  “Alibi?” I said. “She suspects you?”

  “You gotta admit, I’ve got a hell of a motive.” Lachlan tapped the pen against the desk twice in rapid succession. Then he turned it over and tapped the other end.

  “So, we’re both suspects,” I said.

  “When I went to the captain,” said Lachlan, “he gave me this bullshit about how you and I have no business investigating the case, because we’re too personally involved.”

  “Since when is there a case?” I said. “I thought it was a slayer.”

  “I don’t know,” said Lachlan. “I tried to access the files on Alastair, and it’s above my security clearance now.”

  “So… what does this mean?”

  “Well, it’s probably nothing.” Lachlan tapped the pen against the desk. “It’s a murder investigation, and I guess they have to—”

  “Ms. Caspian,” interrupted the smooth voice of Detective Dirk. “You’re here early.”

  I stood up and whirled to face her. “Hi there, detective.”

  Lachlan stood up too. He nodded at her. “Dirk.”

  She gave him a thin-lipped smile. “Flint.”

  I took a deep breath. Wow, you could cut the tension here with a knife.

  “Well,” said Dirk, “shall we
find somewhere more private to chat then?”

  “You don’t need to take her to an interrogation room,” said Lachlan.

  Dirk raised her eyebrows. “No?”

  “No, I’m sure you don’t need to use any kind of intimidation tactics like that,” said Lachlan. His tone was friendly. His expression was ice. “Besides, I’m betting this is just a formality, covering your bases, am I right?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I know we’ve only just met, Flint, so you wouldn’t have any idea what kind of detective I am, but let me assure you that I don’t waste my time on things I consider a formality. I have serious questions for Ms. Caspian about the case.”

  “Well, then, ask away,” he said. “You won’t object to my being present, will you?”

  Dirk’s face twitched. “You know, everyone around here thinks you’re hot stuff, Flint.”

  “Hot stuff?” he said. “Is this 1985?”

  “You’re so good at getting those confessions, and you caught the serial killer, and you’ve closed four cases since you got here, and oh, how they do go on.”

  Lachlan folded his arms over his chest. “They hate me around here. What are you talking about?”

  “I just don’t think anyone’s that good at everything,” she said.

  “Except you, of course,” he said.

  They stared at each other, neither blinking.

  I licked my lips. This wasn’t good. Maybe Lachlan shouldn’t antagonize the person who might be thinking that I was guilty of murder.

  Lachlan tapped his fingers against his elbow, keeping his arms crossed. “You ever read The Great Gatsby?”

  “Sure,” said Dirk.

  Lachlan looked taken aback. No one had ever read the books he brought up. “Well, then you know that Jay Gatsby comes waltzing into East Egg, where he doesn’t belong—”

  “Gatsby lives in West Egg,” countered Dirk. “It’s a big deal for Daisy and the others to cross over to his big, garish parties. Do you have some sort of point?”

  Lachlan’s jaw twitched. He took a deep breath, started to speak.

  “Maybe,” cut in Dirk, “you were going to say that Gatsby didn’t belong, no matter how hard he tried, and that I don’t belong here either?”

  Lachlan pressed his lips together. He looked down at his feet and started to laugh. “Maybe something like that.”