Blood Hunt (Secret Magent Book 3)

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Blood Hunt (Secret Magent Book 3) Page 3

by F. A. Bentley


  Lots of care was needed here. Lis was a real Monkey’s Paw when it came to questions like these, so if I didn’t word things just right, she’d sidestep my question without mercy.

  I cleared my throat. Maybe this would work: “Lis, why exactly did you pick such an unimaginative costume? Why did you go as a tree of all things?”

  “Would you believe it’s completely random with absolutely no rhyme or reason?” She asked.

  “Come on, Lis. How long have I known you?”

  “For about as long as it takes the universe to blink, divided by infinity minus one,” she shot back, a sharp edge to her words.

  “It might have been the blink of an eye for a Devil like you, but a decade to a Human is a tenth of a lifetime,” I said.

  Way more than a tenth for me. I doubt I’ll survive to the ripe old age of thirty.

  Molten bronze eyes trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite recognize. Rage? Hunger? What other emotions could Devils even feel? It was gone as quick as it came.

  Lis shrugged her shoulders and spoke a single word. “Nostalgia.”

  Chapter 6

  “Nostalgia?” I echoed.

  The bathroom door shot wide open to reveal a steaming Not-Lis wearing her familiar frilly green bikini top and jeans.

  “That shower really hit the spot. Thanks for lending it to a perfect stranger. Speaking of, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she managed, holding out a still soaked hand to me.

  “Charles Locke,” I said, taking her hand.

  “Charles,” she echoed with a cheery smile. “I’m Itabimori. It means flower of the fog. Nice to meet you. Who’s that?”

  I turned to look at Lis. “She’s--”

  “His chauffeur,” Lis replied gleefully.

  “What was that about holding grudges?” I muttered at the she-devil before turning back to Itabimori.“If I had to guess, judging by the scaly legs you’re a Supernatural. I didn’t think there were any Dragons here in the New World.”

  Itabimori brushed a stray lock out of her face, puffing up her chest proudly. “As a matter of fact, I come from a long line of very powerful Supernaturals, we’re kind of a big deal out here.”

  I perked an eyebrow. “Oh really.”

  Itabimori practically wilted at the cool reception. “Uh, I’m Supernatural on my mother’s side. Grandpa’s dad was a legendary feathered snake. A Quetzalcoatl.”

  I’m surprised it wasn’t Zeus in disguise the way that playboy got around.

  “Great great grandfather was a semi divine Supernatural. Nice. How else would you explain being all snaky below the waist?” I replied.

  Or her sheer sex appeal.

  “So. Why would the grandchild of a demigod deign to save a filthy mortal like me?”

  “Well, you were in trouble,” Itabimori replied.

  “Bullshit,” I said. “No one just saves someone out of the goodness of their heart.”

  “I do.”

  The sincerity of her response was enough to make me hesitate. “How did you know I was magically gifted?” I demanded.

  “I didn’t.”

  “So let me get this straight. You just happened to see Ajay and his men coming for me and thought ‘goodness, I better help that poor perfect stranger or else he’ll end up hurt’?”

  Itabimori nodded.

  I buried my head in my hands. This woman was unique in more than one way. Genuine kindness and selflessness simply didn’t exist in my line of work. It was unsettling, and yet it echoed within me. Wasn’t I supposed to be doing what I do for selfless reason too?

  “Thank you for your help Itabimori, but I am in a very dangerous line of work. If you go now and don’t look back, I’m sure those men that were after me won’t try too hard to find you.”

  Itabimori looked nonplussed. “There’s no way I can just--”

  “Give me a second and I’ll get you somewhere safe. Til then, please step out of the room while I talk business with my… chauffeur,” I said, cutting Itabimori off. I waited for the door to close before turning to Lis. “Tell me about these leads you’ve uncovered.”

  “You first Charlie,” Lis replied. “What do the leash holders want you to do?”

  “Simple seek and destroy. Find Ignatio Nahua, better known as the Nagual. Acquire head, place on pike,” I replied.

  “Really? Nothing at all to do with the Mabinoy?” Lis asked, her jagged eyebrows furrowing.

  “I have no idea what they’re doing here. Maybe it’s just bad luck on my part,” I replied. “Like always.”

  “Oh please, you have to be the luckiest guy in the world. You get to see me dressed in all sorts of pretty outfits, don’t you?” she said. “If you play your cards right I might even show you the bathing suit I picked up.”

  “Spare me,” I muttered.

  Sharp teeth peeked past full lips. “This Nagual guy I haven’t heard head or tail of, but I know for a fact that your buddies from the Magi aren’t here to party down.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Baron Ajay Baron is looking for something. He’s been granted control over quite a, uh, hefty detachment of Mabinoy forces. Whatever it is they’re after, they don’t want to take chances,” Lis said, crossing one long sensual leg over another.

  “Define ‘hefty detachment’.”

  “Let’s see,” Lis began, counting off on her fingers. “He’s got subordinate sorcerers, an army of thralls which you’ve already met elements of, illusionist enchanter hybrids to keep said thralls in check, oh and he’s probably hired some mean mercs too if he really wants to win. Remember Charlie, these guys aren’t just Nine Tower’s evil twin. They’re covens where magical might makes right. Feudal by their very nature. Maybe Baron Ajay is working on his own power play here in an attempt to make himself Duke Ajay?”

  “Sounds about right. So to sum it up, we don’t know anything about the Nagual, but we do know that the Mabinoya Magi are here to make my life as miserable as physically possible,” I said, heaving a sigh. “Thank you Lis. I can always count on you to turn one problem into two.”

  “Such a sweet talker. You must really wanna see my beach bod. So? What’s the next step?” Lis asked.

  “There is no next step. We’ve reached a dead end. The Archmagisters told me to find someone called Narani for more information and aid. However, they glossed right over the where and how to find her. This means that we get to either sit on our asses looking for--”

  “I know Narani,” Itabimori spoke up, creaking the door open.

  Lis and I craned our heads towards her in unison.

  “Sorry, for overhearing, but it’s true,” the scaled woman said with a shy smile. “I uh, actually grew up with her. We’re best friends. Wanna go meet up?”

  I turned my gaze to Lis, back to Itabimori, and replied, “It’s a date.”

  Chapter 7

  Trudging along the deserted beach, I was suddenly reminded that werewolves weren’t strictly a European phenomenon. Sometimes monstrous boogeymen, sometimes heralds of Gods, or cursed mortals, or sprite like helpers, just about every mythology had it’s equivalent flavor of man wolf.

  Take Narani for example.

  She was lounging beneath a solitary sun umbrella when we found her. The sunglasses she wore shielded eyes that had enough melancholy in them to make a mausoleum look downright chipper. She was even wearing a two piece bikini with a skull pattern splattered onto it. Her skin was ashen gray, her ears were velvety and dog like, her fingers were clawed, and her short tail laid limp against her ample thighs.

  “There she is,” Itabimori said.“Narani! How’re you holding up?”

  “Terribly, thanks for asking,” Narani replied, dead pan. “Is that the doomed agent you’re bringing to me, Tabi?”

  “Charles Locke. Pleasure to meet you. Cancun was the last place I thought I’d find a werewolf,” I said. “Surprised you’re sunbathing instead of moonbathing.”

  “Very funny,” she replied glumly. “I’m a were-dog ac
tually. Specifically a were-Xoloitzcuintli. Woof. Not that it really matters. We’re all pretty much screwed already.”

  Itabimori leaned in towards me and whispered, “She’s a bit doom and gloom but that’s just the Mayan in her acting up. She’s really smart. Does the whole brain thing for my brawn.”

  I held back a grin. I know a necromancer a lot like Narani back at HQ. I cleared my throat and spoke up.“What do you have for me? You were in contact with one of my superiors, weren’t you?”

  “Don’t remind me. That little man was so harsh, threatening me to compliance and roping me into playing field agent for him. I told Gelwer I can’t stand the sight of violence,” Narani sighed. “But that’s life for you. One long grocery list of grim tasks and gloomy things to be done before inevitably dying tragically.”

  “You certainly sound like you belong in a secluded European castle. Or at the very least a Victorian mansion on a misty moor,” I said. “Good. I get paranoid around anyone that’s too happy.”

  Narani nodded in approval.“See Tabi? This guy understands. Okay Mister tall grim and dark, are you ready to hear the doom I must lay upon you?”

  “Hell yes.”

  Narani sat up and crossed her legs, a magnanimous look passed over her perpetually frowning face before she at last spoke. “About three weeks ago a team of Mundanes from Mexico city uncovered some ruins in the jungle. I managed to track down a paper the lead tomb robber wrote, and what he discovered was pretty surprising.”

  “I thought they were archaeologists, not tomb robbers.”

  “Same difference,” Narani said, her tail wagging lazily.

  “Let me guess. They found the entrance to Xibalba in the ruins?” I asked.

  Narani shook her head. “Bad guess. They found directions to another structure that would then show the way to the mouth of Xibalba.”

  “And now comes the part where things go horribly wrong.”

  Narani’s tail picked up little speed. “You can always count on things going wrong. Always. That’s right, doomed agent, the study they wrote and that I got my paws on never actually specified the location of the temple they found. Worse, I lost contact with the archaeology team. Poof. Gone. Maybe the temple was cursed and they all died brutal, graphic deaths or something.”

  “Tell me about the Nagual then. He’s my real target anyways. I couldn’t care less about lost mythical realms,” I replied.

  “Nagual?” Itabimori asked. “That’s who you’re after?”

  I nodded.

  The were-hound looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “You sure Nine Towers wants you to find him?”

  “Find him? I’m here to kill him.”

  Glum eyes shot open in surprise. Narani threw a glance at Itabimori before daring to reply. “You’re one very doomed agent.”

  “I know. Just tell me about the Nagual. Start at the beginning.”

  Another look passed between the two Supernatural girls before Itabimori perked up. “Ignatio Nahua is the most recent person to have become the Nagual.”

  “Nagual is a title?”

  “Divine mantle technically,” Narani replied.

  “Yep. A Nagual is a trickster, in this case a destroyer. A rampant manifestation of dark, super evil Teotl. Uh, Teotl being our word for divine essence,” Itabimori said. “Many different Humans have occupied the Nagual niche over the centuries. All were once Human, but something about the mantle kinda, um, changes them.”

  “Contorts and corrupts them beyond recognition,” Narani offered. “Whoever Ignatio Nahua was, he’s not a Human anymore. He’s a Nagual.”

  “Charming. Where do I find him so I can persuade his head to separate from his shoulders?” I asked politely.

  Itabimori shook her head. “No one knows. The easiest way to get a lock on is for him to come out of hiding on his own but that’s unlikely. The very best Naguals barely leave a whisper in history despite being responsible for some of the greatest woes ever faced. Plagues. Invasions. Volcanoes erupting even. They tend to be secretive unless it serves their purposes.”

  “It can’t be coincidence that he just decided to show up at the same time those archaeologists uncovered the way to Xibalba. There’s no doubt that he’s after what’s buried there,” I said.

  “Unfortunately, I think you’re right,” Narani agreed.

  “Look on the bright side, Charles,” Tabi said. “Even if we don’t know where he is, he doesn’t even know you exist. We have the initiative.”

  “We?” I asked incredulously. “I work alone. You’ll only slow me down.”

  “But--”

  “Itabimori,” I began, cutting her off abruptly. “I appreciate your help. Really I do, but this is different. This is business. Narani, help me out here.”

  “He’s right,” Narani said. “Nothing good can come of this.”

  “That’s what you always say,” Itabimori said, waving the were-dog off. “I’ll be fine. We just have to make sure that we don’t lose the element of--”

  Heavy footsteps crunched in the sand. The stench of burnt flesh pricked at my nose. Turning to face the direction the steps were coming from I suddenly found myself face to face with a cheap skull mask. Bloodshot eyes leered at me from behind the false face and ragged breathing echoed from a wrinkled throat.

  Surprise.

  “Him… That’s him,” Itabimori whispered. “The Nagual.”

  Chapter 8

  Say what you want about Itabimori, but her reflexes were certainly snake like. The second her panic button was pushed she threw her hands up into the air. In response, a torrent of greenery spiked out of the ground all around us. In the blink of an eye, the vines and roots wove up to form a thick wall, blocking out even the sun. Individually, these stubborn root plants couldn’t be more than half the thickness of my pinky finger. The impressive thing was that there must have been thousands of them.

  “Nature magic?” I said. “And pretty good control too. That’s rare.”

  “One of a kind,” the snake woman replied, sweat beading on her brow from the effort.

  Utter silence reigned, with the exception of Itabimori’s strained breathing. I’d only gotten a glimpse of the Nagual, but was he really scary enough to need this sort of overreaction? I received my answer sooner than I’d hoped.

  I heard a heavy foot fall on the sand. Then another, and another. The footsteps patiently circled around the wall of vines. He seemed to be sizing up Itabimori’s defenses.

  A voice hoarse yet whimsical suddenly spoke. “Nine Towers. Ah, that really takes me back. How the mighty have fallen. Fifty years ago an agent as renowned as the so called ‘Hellhound’ Charles Locke would never allow themselves be caught at such a disadvantage.”

  “You must consider me quite a threat to hunt me down from the start,” I replied. “Not that I’m complaining. If I kill you right here I might just have a chance to salvage my vacation.”

  “Please, call me Ignatio. And this was merely a test. The first of many. Why would I ever seek to kill one of my contestants? Unless you give me reason to, of course.” the Nagual said.

  “Contestant?” I asked.

  “You didn’t know? I bet your superiors did. The race is on to find the legendary Xibalba, graveyard of the Gods. I hope you came ready to compete, Charles Locke, because this contest will prove to be most cutthroat.”

  The vine wall before me blackened, withering away in a matter of seconds. Itabimori’s face paled as a monstrous claw tore the wasted vegetation apart in a single slash. The Nagual stepped past the ruined weeds, hunching over to fit through.

  Face to face, Ignatio looked Human in only the loosest sense of the term. Body magic was a fringe specialty in formal academia. It was a subordinate study of enchanting that didn’t focus magics into an external item, but internalized the forces and imbued the user’s own body. Powerful magics tended to have troubling side effects to long time users, especially those who crossed the line into overuse, abuse, and, ultimately, addiction. J
ust as Desdemona from Divination lost her eyesight, so had Ignatio, the genius body mage, lost something as well.

  The Nagual’s limbs looked ragged and scarred, littered with rippling stretchmarks and misplaced flesh. Where his skin wasn’t grossly sagging, it was taut, especially around the lips, pulled back into a forced grin. And this was only the stuff jutting past his dollar store mask. Long scrawny legs raised the Nagual to a dizzying height. He towered over me, even hunched as he was. His body was mercifully hidden behind a heavy trench coat that looked uncanny and out of place on the hot beaches of Cancun, only adding to the sense of wrongness that surrounded the Nagual like a miasma.

  “You’re pretty hands on to come greet me in person. Refreshing,” I said.

  Despite the stench of burnt flesh.

  The Nagual’s dry lips cracked as his grin widened. “I hope you prove to be more than you appear, Senor Locke, compared to your fellow contestants you seem somewhat lacking.”

  “Is that what you think?” I asked, mildly.

  “Over the years I’ve developed a discerning eye for--”

  I saw my chance and took it. My hand shot forth as fast as I could force it, my wand already forming a blade of hardened arcana on the tip. My heart leaped into my throat when I felt the satisfying thud of my sword piercing flesh.

  Near miss. My blade had found it’s mark in the Nagual’s forearm, the quivering limb’s scrawny muscles suddenly bulging and huge.

  “I got a little worried when the girls told me how scary a Nagual can be. But you know what they say: If it can bleed, it can die.”

  “Premature,” the Nagual said, licking his lips. “I hadn’t intended on ending you here, but if you’re so eager I’ll be happy to have a taste of your blood.”

  Bony claws peeled back worn fingertips, erupting from his free hand. Wrenching my wand painfully free of his flesh, I ducked beneath the lethal swipe just in time to avoid decapitation. The Nagual’s keen eye followed my evasion, and rewarded me with a knee right in the gut.

 

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