Dead Stare (Ghosts & Magic Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

He was getting closer to the bathroom. I could almost feel him looking at the door, thinking he had me.

  “You taking a dump in there, or what?” he said, his face right up to the door.

  I didn’t move a muscle. If he kicked it in, I had to be ready to shoot him in the face. Could I do it?

  I didn’t know.

  “Amos. You have anything?”

  A new voice registered from the front of the room.

  A tense pause.

  “Nah,” Amos replied. “He split.” His feet clumped away from the door. “Probably took the stairs.”

  “The cameras are all active on the steps. We didn’t pick anything up.”

  “You know he’s got help, right? A lesbo hacker chick with massive ta-tas?”

  “You could have just said hacker,” the voice replied dryly.

  “What the hell is the fun of that?” Amos asked. “She probably shanked the cameras remotely.”

  “Yeah, it’s possible. Delta team, what’s your status?”

  I let myself take a breath. Amos could have pushed his way in. He could have verified if I were here or not. Why hadn’t he? Did he know it was a trap, and he didn’t want to die? Or did he know I was here, and he didn’t want Black to kill me?

  Or was it something else?

  The incident with Frank had been out of character. So was this. Amos was playing at something.

  But what?

  46

  Gotcha

  “Stairwells are clear,” I heard the ghost say to Amos. “He’s on this floor somewhere.”

  “He could’ve switched off to the elevator, or gone up to the rooftop.”

  “Beta is on the roof; they would have seen him.”

  “Yeah, right.” Amos laughed. “Well, he ain’t in here. Let’s check the other rooms.”

  “Affirmative. This is Alpha Leader. Sweep the Ninth. Make sure you keep the exits covered. Don’t let him slip away.”

  “I’ll take the rooms on this side,” Amos said.

  “Copy that. Try using your wire for once.”

  I heard the second pair of feet leave the room.

  “Try using your wire for once,” Amos mimicked in a high-pitched whine. “Fucking amateur.”

  Then he left the room, too.

  I stood up, stretched my legs, and opened the door to the bathroom. Whatever the game was, he was trying to keep the rest of Black’s kill teams from pulping me with rifle fire. I appreciated it, even if I didn’t know what the occasion was.

  I crept over to the door, still in control of my dead mouse army. I led them to the ventilation below the floor, splitting one out and sending the signal to it to look through its eyes. I backed away immediately. It didn’t have any. It was following the others by smell or something.

  I pushed the door open again, just enough to see out. Amos was there, and he used a master key to open the door across the hallway and vanished.

  I made my move, pushing open the door and ducking out, sneaking past him while his back was turned, but ready to shoot him if he made a single move like he noticed. Then I was past, headed for the corner.

  I summoned the army, leading it up through the grating on the floor, squeezing my corpses in and spreading them out.

  One round was fired. Then another. The mice were small, and their souls were thrown from their bodies as they were hit and exploded into pieces. I had a sense of where the attack was happening, and I circled from the other direction.

  More gunfire. I sent a command out to the mice, ordering them to attack. The first ghost grunted as I turned the corner and he spotted me. He started shifting to shoot at me, but a mouse bit his foot at the same time. It caused him to hesitate long enough that I was on him in an instant, my hand coming down around his wrist.

  “There’s no field up here,” he said.

  “Look around. I don’t need it,” I replied, pushing the death magic into him. His arm turned black, the death and corrosion channeling through his body to his heart and killing it.

  I dropped his corpse, taking his weapon as I did.

  “Baldie.”

  I spun on my knee. Amos was at the end of the hallway, a shotgun aimed at me.

  “You going to shoot me?” I asked.

  “If I have to.”

  “What about that friend bullshit?”

  He laughed. “I knew you were in there.”

  “Why didn’t you shoot me in the back right now?”

  “You know I don’t work like that. I got some standards.”

  “I can kill you,” I said. I had the assault rifle pointed at him.

  “Not if I kill you first.”

  “There’s a small problem with that. I’ve already died once. It didn’t stick.”

  His expression was a mixture of surprise and confusion. He shrugged, and then cursed as one of my corpse-mice bit him on his back.

  “Son of a-”

  I was into the stairwell before he could recover. I looked up, and then down. There would be someone guarding the stairs at the bottom.

  It didn’t matter. I had to get out. I dropped the thread controlling the mice and started skipping down the steps as quickly as I could.

  I made it four floors before the gunfire started coming up at me. I ducked onto the floor, rolling to the corner while the bullets peppered the wall. I rolled back, shooting down at the ghosts, sending them back to cover.

  I couldn’t afford to get pinned down here. I managed to get to a low crouch, and I moved along the wall down the steps, sticking my hand in my pocket. The dice were there, and they were warm, ready to feed again. I could drop them into the stairwell and let the demon take the team below.

  No. Screw that. I would do it myself.

  I moved to the side, taking a few shots down, backing away and descending. I repeated this a few times, getting down another floor. Then the door above me opened.

  I cursed and reversed course, reaching the incoming ghost as he pushed through the door. I punched him hard in the jaw, knocking him off balance before he tackled me and threw us both back down the steps.

  Pain blossomed in my back as I bounced down the steps with the asshole on top of me. We locked arms, but he was a fit soldier, and I was a half-dead weakling. He broke my grip and punched me in the face, once, twice. It hurt like hell and made me dizzy.

  “Stay down,” he said, hitting me in the gut.

  We came to a stop on the landing. I put my hands up in front of my face to protect them, drawing in more death magic. He kept punching me, trying to knock me out.

  I fought to stay calm through the pain, turning my palm toward him and speaking another of the spells. The death magic lurched from my body, stabbing into his eyes. He screamed as it dug into him, down into his organs. I felt energized as his life force was pulled out and into me, healing the cuts and bruises and giving me renewed strength. I held him while he shuddered, breathing out when he stopped moving altogether.

  I rolled the corpse off me and stumbled to my feet. I heard the click of a trigger ready to fire and felt the cold metal of a muzzle against my cheek.

  “Got you,” the ghost said.

  47

  Don't get carried away

  I didn’t make any sudden moves. Instead, my brain filtered through the spells in the book, searching for one that would get me out of this new mess.

  There weren’t any.

  “You killed Rock, you shit,” the ghost said. “I liked that guy.”

  “You’re next,” I replied. Why not be cocky at this point?

  He laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  Someone shot him in the back.

  He fell over. At first, I thought it was Amos, but when I looked up there was nobody above me. When I looked down, I saw another familiar face.

  “What’s up, boss?” Frank asked.

  “I thought I told you to get Myra back to Vegas?” I replied.

  “You’re welcome, by the way.” He smiled, undeterred by my attitude. “She’s on the way. Shika’s sittin
g right next to her. I wasn’t about to leave you here alone and miss all the fun.”

  I descended to where he was standing. “How did you know I was here?”

  “A little bird told me. She said you could use some help.”

  Sandman.

  “Come on; we need to catch a flight to Berlin.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Germany.” He made a face.

  “What?”

  “I hate Germans.”

  “Why?”

  “So stiff. So serious. And that whole Nazi thing.”

  “That was eighty years ago, and before the reversal.”

  “True. Maybe they aren’t so bad. I’ve never actually been to Germany.”

  We exited the stairwell at the ground floor. Three more dead ghosts were laying there with a gaping hole in their body armor.

  “They weren’t ready for Birdie and Snuffles.”

  “Birdie and Snuffles?” He patted the guns at his sides. “You named them?”

  “Why not? I figure if I’m going to be a ghost, I need to start working on my brand.”

  “There’s nothing menacing about Birdie and Snuffles.”

  “That’s the point. You have to have balls to name your guns something like that.”

  Despite everything, I laughed.

  We reached the lobby at a run, breaking through the doors and out into the parking lot. I was hopeful that the kill teams would give up the chase out here, in public in the middle of the day. We were almost to the footbridge that crossed to the terminals when I looked back and saw Amos standing there with a ghost that I assumed was Alpha leader. They had hidden their firearms and were watching us escape. Black still wasn’t going to let them take it to streets. Not when they would still have other, better chances.

  Amos smiled and raised his hand to wave.

  Frank replied by giving him the finger.

  “I want another go at that guy,” he said as we crossed the bridge.

  “Amos? Let it be. I’m not completely sure if he’s one of the bad guys or not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I glanced back again. They were fading into the distance. “I don’t know. I feel like we’re playing a game of cat and mouse, but I don’t know which role each of us is filling.”

  “Hmm.”

  That was all he said. I shrugged it off and hurried into the terminal, walking the long corridor until we reached Lufthansa. Having Frank with me was going to complicate things since we would need a properly fitted aircraft. It was time I couldn’t waste to have him tag along.

  I stopped walking, turning to tell him thanks, but I was most likely going to have to ditch him again.

  He wasn’t there. I found him a dozen feet behind, staring at a television.

  “Hey, check that out,” Frank said as I approached.

  I glanced over to the flatscreen. It showed an amateur video taken somewhere inside Tokyo. I couldn’t read the text that was running beneath it, but I could see what the story was about. A young, American couple was standing near a railing overlooking a valley and making out. It looked like any other boring tourist crap you could find on the internet, not something newsworthy.

  “So?”

  “Wait for it,” Frank said.

  I did.

  Ten seconds into the video, a massive griffin appeared, swooping down and grabbing the girl, talons digging into her flesh. The guy recording the video screamed and shouted as it reversed course, huge wings creating a swirl of dust and debris on the ground. The camera shifted to an Animal Control unit that had been nearby, tracking the thing I guess. It slid to a stop, the officers climbing out and taking aim that the creature.

  It screeched as it lifted the terrified girl into the air, backing away and gaining altitude. The AC soldiers tried to hit it, their bullets striking the girl instead.

  Then it was gone with its prize.

  “Crazy,” Frank said. “I can’t believe they’re playing that on the news.”

  “I can’t believe those soldiers have such shitty aim,” I replied. “It wasn’t that far away.”

  “That’s what the story is about. That animal control is improperly trained.”

  “You read Hiragana?”

  “What?”

  “Japanese?”

  “Oh. Nope. They had English subtitles a minute ago.”

  I looked back at the screen. It was on its third play through. I didn’t need to watch that again.

  “Frank, I appreciate your help back there, and that you didn’t abandon me.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I know. But I’m too big to ride the regular commuter, and you’re in a hurry. No problem, boss. Sandman already took care of it.”

  “What?”

  “She got one of the flight configurations switched. I guess I should have told you that on the way over.”

  “No harm done. What about tickets?”

  “Ready and waiting.”

  “I hope Black can’t track them.”

  “Think he’ll zap us right out of the sky? Not with three hundred other people on board. You still have to break into his house. If he wants you, he’ll be there waiting.”

  “I’m all too aware of that.”

  “I wouldn’t sweat it, boss. I saw what you did to that ghost back there on the steps. Shang Tsung’s got nothing on you.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind. The point is that you’re no slouch with magic either.”

  “I’m not Mr. Black,” I said.

  “Good thing for everybody. One of that guy is enough.”

  “Thanks for coming back, Frank.”

  He reached out and hit me lightly on the shoulder. “No problem, pal.”

  48

  Dignity, or lack thereof

  The flight to Berlin was uneventful, with the exception of the small amount of amusement Frank and I got from the looks of the confused passengers, who found themselves strapping into seats made for ogres and orcs instead of the more standard fare. While the extra legroom was appreciated by most of the passengers, the lack of decent food worked wonders to temper them back to ambivalence. Leathers tended to need much heavier, fattier foods to fuel their huge frames than the rest of us were used to.

  It was almost the middle of the night by the time we landed. I kept my eyes moving back and forth as we made our way through the airport, expecting a team to jump out from behind every corner and make a quick hit on us. It wasn’t likely that Black would be that brazen, especially after he had made such short work of Team Tarakona. Still, it always paid to be cautious.

  I was even more concerned about having Frank with me. I had ditched him in Tokyo because I knew Mr. Black could find me through him. I felt like it was only a matter of time before the wizard grabbed me and pulled me to wherever, never to be seen again.

  Unless he couldn’t.

  The thought hit me as we reached the exit onto the street. What if the ring prevented Black from teleporting me? Was that possible? How could it be? Peter had transported me to Tarakona’s lair.

  Even so, he had known where to find me, and even after whipping Tarakona he hadn’t come for me again. Because he knew where I would ultimately turn up? Or because of something else?

  Or maybe I just wasn’t worth the effort?

  “What’s on your mind, boss?” Frank asked.

  I told him.

  “Hmm… Yeah. If he beat Tarakona and House Yellow that fast, it sounds like he should be able to kick our asses. No offense, but I think you’re right that he won’t bother coming down to our level. Not while he has plenty of minions left to do his bidding. Not until he has to.”

  The inevitable face-off. I wasn’t looking forward to it. My power had grown thanks to the Xenoxofril, but it still wasn’t anywhere near strong enough to stop Black. It was easy to remember how his magic had obliterated my efforts to dispel it, burning through the death magic like it was hardly even there.

  I didn’t want to fight him. Not at all. If there was a way to avoid it, I was going
to take it.

  We hopped into a cab. I didn’t know where we needed to go, not yet. I told the driver to take us to a hotel. Whatever was closest. It didn’t matter. We would only be staying as long as it took Sandman to find us.

  I leaned back in the seat. It was raining, and I watched the water droplets slide down the window next to me. My mind wandered back to Karen and Molly. How had everything gone so wrong?

  It was a stupid question to ask. The answer was reflected in the window, vague and undefined, a bald, gray shell of a man. The doctor had given me six months. I could have spent that time loving my family and dying with dignity.

  Instead, I was living without.

  It was a new feeling for me. A new revelation. I still didn’t want to die. I was terrified of the idea, especially knowing that Death wouldn’t be kind to me. At the same time, I was starting to realize what I had done, from the day I left my family, to the day I broke my promise to Dannie and brought her back from the dead. There had always been guilt, but now it was pouring in like the rain outside.

  I felt a tear tickle my cheek. I brought my sleeve up, quick to wipe it away. Getting Sandman out was the only redemption I had. Nobody deserved to spend their entire life as a prisoner. If I died trying?

  At least I would die doing something for someone else, instead of being a selfish asshole right until the end. That was something.

  Wasn’t it?

  I was still lost in thought when I felt Frank’s large hand land on my shoulder and give me a soft shake.

  “Hey, Conor.”

  I snapped out of it. The cab had stopped moving and the radio was on. There was a ton of static pouring out of it, and the driver was looking back at us like it was our fault.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, a little bit dazed.

  “The car just stopped,” Frank said. “Right here in the middle of the street. Boom. Then the radio came on. You wanted directions? You got them.”

  It took a few more seconds for my brain to catch up to my ears. There was a voice hiding behind the static. A female voice. Sandman. It was soft and hard to decipher below the white noise, but it was definitely there.