Dead Stare (Ghosts & Magic Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

  I wasn’t breathing.

  Dead. I should have been dead. Only nothing was happening. I was still me, still able to think and move.

  My eyes swept over my hand, settling on the ring.

  Could you die, if Death couldn’t come to collect you? Was that the reason I was still around? Or was it something else? The demon, perhaps?

  “Baron,” Frank said, rushing over to me and kneeling at my side. “You’re. You’re.”

  “Dead?” I said. “Yes. And no.”

  “Whatever you are, we need to move,” Shika said. “There are more coming.”

  “How do you know?” Frank said.

  Her ears twitched. “I can hear them.”

  I sat up. Everything was moving so slowly. Everything seemed so wrong. The spellbook. I remembered it now, stuffed in my pocket. I reached in and grabbed it.

  “Baron?” Shika said.

  “Cover me,” I replied, flipping through the pages. There was some crazy stuff in there, including one spell I had never believed I would ever have a chance to use, and hoped I would never need.

  Shika and Frank moved ahead in the corridor. A deafening boom sounded as Frank fired his weapon down the hall before ducking back to evade the return volley. I found the page I was looking for, holding the book folded back in one hand, wincing as I bent the spine. I put my other hand on the dead user beside me, reading the lines as I reached into him with my magic.

  Just because I couldn’t bring users back from the dead didn’t mean I couldn’t use them for anything. I felt the energy start flowing the other way. I felt his life force, the years he should have lived, transferring from him to me. My chest suddenly began to hurt, but I kept repeating the lines. The sound of gunfire grew crisper. My whole body started to burn.

  I gulped in a massive breath of air, feeling my heart start to beat again. A quick glance down showed me the wound closing, the skin stitching itself back together. A moment later, I was almost fully alive again.

  Almost, because this magic couldn’t heal what really ailed me. Black said he could, but I didn’t quite believe it. That curse was mine to bear.

  I got to my feet, throwing the book back into my pocket. The fighting stopped a second later, and Frank turned back toward me, his expression nervous.

  “Whoa,” he said again when he found me standing. “Are you even human, pal?”

  At this point, I wasn’t sure. “Human enough. Come on.”

  We turned the corner. Three guards were laying in the hallway. Shika pointed at one of them.

  “Guardian,” she said.

  She seemed ambivalent about my self-resurrection. Even I wasn’t as impressed as I probably should have been. Had I died and revived myself, or had I not been dead to begin with. I thought I was. I thought I should have been. Frank seemed to think the same. If I had been, then I had worked a level of magic even Mr. Black couldn’t attain.

  So why did I feel so empty about it?

  I pushed the thought aside. We still had a job to do.

  We made our way through the building, to the great room in the corner. I had chosen it because of the blueprint, which had called for a standing frame in the center of the room. A frame meant for a door that led nowhere. Upon entering the room, I saw that the door was twenty feet tall, intricate and special, an antique piece of an ancient past. It was artwork now, standing in the center of the huge room. It was so ostentatious it seemed like it had to be the one.

  I stared up at it, observing the rest of the room. Then I walked right past it.

  There was another door that led into a kitchen. It was a simple thing. It didn’t have a latch, lock, knob, or handle.

  I stopped in front of that one. Frank was standing by the antique.

  “Don’t you mean this one?” he asked.

  That had been my first thought, but it seemed stupid now that we were here. Mr. Black wasn’t the type to go with the obvious. That door was a lark. It was more likely than not that this one was, too. There was only one way to find out.

  “Open it,” I said, as I reached forward and gave my door a soft shove.

  Frank grabbed his and pulled.

  “What do you have?” I asked, staring into a mass of stainless steel cabinetry.

  “Nothing,” he replied.

  I was disappointed, but not surprised. We would keep searching.

  “We have to try every door in the building,” I said.

  “That’s a lot of doors,” Frank replied.

  “One hundred thirty-seven,” Shika said, surprising both of us. “I counted them when Myra was showing the blueprint. Four floors, about thirty doors each, plus the basement where we came in.”

  “We’ll never get through them all,” I said. “We have to split up.”

  “Are you kidding?” Frank said. “You already got shot once.”

  “And I’m not eager to have it happen again, but I guess I can handle it. We need to either find the passage or escape the building before Black shows up. Hopefully, Mr. T is keeping him plenty busy. I’ll take the top floor and work my way down to three. Shika, cover two and make your way up. Frank, you’ve got this one.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to fly solo, Baron. This is my first mission.”

  I put my hand on the trogre’s shoulder. “You were made for this, Frank. You’ve got the guns. You’ve got the eye. You’ve got the brawn and the regeneration. If you want to get back at Black, this is how we do it.”

  He nodded despite the fear in his eyes. He wanted to do this, bad.

  “Let’s move. If Myra contacts you, do whatever she says.”

  “Yes, Baron,” Shika said.

  “Okay, boss,” Frank said.

  We split up. Frank turned right out of the great room while Shika and I continued north to the stairwell. We moved quickly, pausing at intersections and scanning for more bad guys. There was no part of me that believed the place was empty.

  “You died,” Shika said as we paused at one of the crossings.

  “That depends on your definition.”

  “How did you continue moving? You weren’t breathing. I saw it.”

  I was glad to have the confirmation. I wiggled the ring on my finger. “Death and I have an understanding,” I said.

  She tilted her head. “You shouldn’t play with things you don’t know about.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Do you know where that artifact came from?”

  “Tarakona gave it to me.”

  “I mean the original owner.”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know it is wise to use such a thing?”

  “I’m not about wise. I’m about survival. He gave it to me to help me survive.”

  “Everyone has their motives, Baron. Even me. You can never be sure they coincide with yours.”

  I reached out for her wrist. Was that a threat?

  She let me take it.

  “I like what are trying to do,” she said. “I’m appalled by how you are doing it.”

  “I’m appalled by how I’m doing it,” I replied.

  She smiled, showing her sharp teeth. “Then you are smarter than I thought. Let us find the door so I can be done with you.”

  33

  It's complicated

  We split up at the second floor. Shika was cautious as she moved out into the hallways again, and I heard a pair of gunshots before I had made it up the next flight. She wasn’t just a ghost. She was a Guardian, so I had to assume she was safe. I would know for sure if I made it back down to three.

  I hit the top floor, stopping and pushing the door open slowly, leading with my gun. I had my other hand in my pocket, resting on the dice. “Only if you need it,” I told myself.

  The coast was clear. I moved out into the hallway, stopping at the first door I found. I turned the knob. Locked. I cast the spell, and the lock disintegrated beneath my touch. I pushed the door open and scanned the office. It was small and simple. Desk, bookcase, computer
, monitor, chair. Pictures of somebody’s wife and kids. Here? Not everyone who lived here was a combatant. I didn’t want to hurt innocents.

  I kept going, pushing open three more doors to three more offices, keeping my eyes moving forward and back. I didn’t know if I could survive dying a second time. I didn’t know the rules or the reasons. The whole thing was still so impossible I barely believed it had happened.

  I reached the end of the corridor. I saw the trailing edge of a black armored shoulder slip behind the following corner, fifty feet distant. He had reacted like someone who knew I was coming.

  “Myra,” I whispered. “Cameras?”

  There was no response.

  “Myra?” Not again.

  “I’m here, Baron. Cameras are only on the fourth floor. Are you up there?”

  “Yeah, and I’ve been spotted.”

  “I would run if I were you. I’m not having any luck getting in.”

  “Running isn’t an option. Keep trying.”

  I flattened myself against the wall and started back toward the offices, finding the camera tucked into the shadows in the corner. I had to stop thinking so much. It was making me sloppy.

  I ducked into one of the rooms, retreating to the window, shooting out the camera inside as I did. Out and up to the roof. Otherwise, I was going to be slammed in about ten seconds.

  I paused at the window. I was going to trap myself if I tried to run that way. There was a reason the building was low enough for the fields to reach the rooftop. There was probably at least one user up there, and another on his way down here.

  I clutched the dice, lifting them to my face. They were hot. Real hot.

  “Fuck you,” I said to the demon. “Six souls.”

  They grew even hotter. I crouched down behind the desk and waited. They were slow in coming. My only guess was that they knew who I was, and it was making them more cautious.

  Of course, there was another possibility, and it dawned on me as I hid.

  There was nothing for me to find, which meant there was no reason to hurry to stop me and no reason to risk dying over it. I was as good as trapped in here. Trapped over nothing.

  The idea of it pissed me off.

  I stood up, moving slowly to the open doorway, and then laying down on my stomach. If they had a sniper, he would be aiming at eye-level, not at the feet.

  “Baron,” Myra said, interrupting me before I could make a move. I backed away, holding the gun and dice in front of me. They were already active, and threatening to burn right through my hand.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m in. I’ve got eyes through the cameras. Where are you?”

  I breathed out in relief. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until that moment.

  “One of the offices near the stairwell. I shot the camera.”

  “Number three,” she said. “There are four on either side; all lined up to turn you to Swiss cheese.”

  “Are they moving in?”

  “No. Just sitting there like they’re on a picnic.”

  I clenched my teeth. No hurry. I guess they weren’t too worried about Shika or Frank either, which made me even more worried.

  Eight was more than six. I would have to get two of them on my own.

  I put the gun on the floor. I put one of the dice in either hand.

  Then I threw them out, angling the throw so they bounced off the wall and down the hallway, one on the left, one on the right.

  The screams started a moment later. I knew by the sound of them I had rolled double fire. At least they would go quick.

  I waited for the demon to laugh at me, to taunt me, or to thank me, now that it was able to get into my head without having the mask on my face. It did none of those. It simply fed.

  I picked up the gun, staying on my knees and facing the left. All of the guards on that side were down and nearly dead. Bullets from guns aimed too high went over my head. I turned quickly, just in time to see Shika come up behind the remaining guards, stabbing one with a short knife and kicking the second in the head with enough force to knock him cold.

  “Myra told you,” I said as I stood up.

  “Yes. She said you needed help.” She looked at the bodies on the ground, decimated by the dice.

  I walked over to each and picked it up, both relieved and disgusted. Hadn’t we just been talking about this.

  “The door isn’t here,” I said.

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Black isn’t trying hard enough to stop us. He’s just trying to make it look like he is. He’s buying time, wasting ours.”

  “He could be stalling to keep us from reaching the passage.”

  “How much resistance did you find on the second floor?”

  “Two guards.”

  “Guardians?”

  “No.” She pursed her lips. It was an odd face coming from a kitsune. “I think you are right.”

  We both spun to face the stairwell as the door burst open. Frank appeared in it a moment later, breathing hard.

  “Shooting, I can do,” he said between gasps. “Punching, I can do. Healing, I can do. Running up four flights of stairs? No can do, boss.” He slumped against the wall.

  “What did you find?”

  “I got to half the doors before Myra called. Nothing.”

  “The same for me,” Shika said.

  “Another wild goose chase. And we’ve got twenty more targets on the list.”

  “Do they all have stairs?” Frank said.

  “They all have guards,” I replied, a feeling of hopelessness setting in. “This isn’t the place. Let’s head back to the-“

  “Conor.”

  The voice came through my earpiece. It wasn’t Myra.

  “Sandman?” I said.

  Frank and Shika looked at me strangely. She wasn’t transmitting to them, too.

  “You’re in Tokyo. Good. I can’t stay here long. He’s watching me so much closer now.”

  “The door isn’t here,” I said.

  “I know,” she replied. What? “I didn’t send you here for the door. I sent you here for the key.”

  “A little more explaining would be helpful,” I said.

  “There’s no time to explain, not on this channel. One of the offices has a safe. Inside the safe is a card. It looks like a credit card. It’s a security key for Mr. Black’s intranet vault. A decryption key for a protocol I haven’t been able to crack. If we can get into the vault, I can pinpoint the door.”

  “Where is the vault?”

  “It’s digital. There is no where, only a how.”

  “The Machine?”

  “Yes. Get the key, upload it to your avatar, and meet me there.”

  “Won’t Black be able to find you online?”

  “Maybe. But he can’t kill me, and he can’t unplug me. I’m already a prisoner. What else is he going to do?”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “How do I get into the safe?”

  “You’re a ghost, figure it out. I have to go.”

  “You’re already a prisoner, what can he do to you?”

  “Nothing. It’s what he can do to you. Find it, Conor.”

  “Sandman? Sandman?”

  “Baron?” Myra said. “I lost the link. What happened?”

  “Things just got a little more complicated.”

  34

  Playing games

  “How so?” Frank asked.

  “We need to find a safe in one of these offices. There’s something inside that Sandman wants.”

  “I thought we were looking for a door?”

  “So did I.”

  “Okay, I’ll check this side,” Frank said, pointing at one of the rooms. “What if I find it?”

  “Call me and I’ll open it,” I said. “Shika, can you check the offices on the other end?”

  “Of course, Baron.”

  “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Frank said once she was gone.

  “She’s good at what she does
.”

  “I think she’s good at everything.”

  “You make puppy love ugly.”

  “Heh. I know. A woman like her wouldn’t have an interest in a guy like me.”

  “No.”

  “Hey, you never know. Stranger things have happened, right? Like being dead but not actually dying?”

  “Maybe. Stop wasting time.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  I went back into the same office again, quickly heading to the back wall and moving aside the picture of the family. There was nothing behind it. I turned to the bookshelves and started pulling off the titles so I could see the wall behind. It took me three minutes to clear it.

  There was nothing there either.

  I scanned the room. Of course, a safe big enough to fit a credit card could also be sized to only fit a credit card. Sandman hadn’t said it was in the wall, only that it was in one of the offices. I opened the file cabinets and emptied them. I felt along the floor to see if there was a bump. What I had said before about not asking corpses for info? If I had the desk jockey here, I would have asked, and if he wouldn’t tell me I would have killed him and asked again.

  Frustrated, I dropped into the chair and leaned back. My foot hit the side of the desk, and the monitor turned on, showing me a simple password entry screen.

  Seeing it gave me an idea. I moved around to the back of the monitor, feeling the bottom edge. There was a slot for a card there. I tried to feel inside. There was nothing. That didn’t mean I wasn’t on the right track.

  I left that office and found Frank.

  “Are you checking the monitors?” I asked.

  “Huh? No. Why?”

  I ran my hand along the back of his. The same slot was there. This one wasn’t empty.

  “There’s something here. We need to get it out.”

  “Sure, I can bust that open.” He started reaching for the equipment before pausing. “My eye is telling me there’s an explosive attached to it.”

  Of course. “An explosive that will go off if you try to force it open, destroying the card and probably your hand. Leave it.”