by C. G Harris
I did my best to compose myself and turned to face the two of them again. The moment I saw Alex’s face, I wanted to panic. Her eyes were wide enough to land twin choppers.
“Agent?” Alex repeated. “A Judas Agent?”
Jazzy shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe. They never said for sure, and I couldn’t stay long enough to find out.”
Alex turned away from Jazzy and marched over to me. She grabbed my arm, pulled me away, and kept her voice low as she spoke.
“This is not a game anymore.”
I set my jaw and did my best not to growl through my teeth. “This never was.”
Alex closed her eyes and took a breath then started over. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. What I meant to say was, taking Zoe is one thing, taking a Judas Agent is another. We need to go back and get some official backup on this.”
The very words I dreaded. My mind raced for a way around this. I could not allow the Judas Agency to respond to this. They would find out about the agent, and if he was a rogue member of the Denarii Division, he might expose Judas and his entire operation.
“We don’t have time for that.”
Now Alex struggled to hold her anger in check. “This is too important for the two of us to handle. I know Zoe’s going to be mixed up in this but—”
I shook my head. “But nothing. If these guys are holding a Judas Agent, there’s no telling what they’re doing with him. We need to go get both of them out and do it now. By the time we go back, cut through red tape, explain how we know a Judas Agent is even there at all—”
Alex held up her hand. “You made your point.” She stood for a moment thinking, then peered up at me, her face a mask of icy resolve. “If we’re going to do this, we do it my way. No more cowboy showdowns. We go in, extract the agent and Zoe, and get out. That’s it.”
I nodded. “I like your way.”
“Good.” Alex turned back to Jazzy, who still stood several paces behind us. “You get back to Meg. Make sure she’s all right. More importantly, make sure the two of you keep your mouths shut. I don’t want anyone knowing we’re coming. Hunker down and zip your lips. With any luck, we’ll get in and out before they know what hit them.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Your plan sucks.” I peeked around a corner at a menagerie of guards loitering below a second-floor balcony. “There has to be at least twenty of them, maybe more. And how are we supposed to get up to that door? There are no exterior stairs.”
“You’re worried about details? Last time we crashed one of your cousin’s little parties, you were ready to take on everyone in the Wax Worx. This is a few mouth breathing brutes and a missing ladder. We’ll take care of them and figure a way up from there.”
“Not all that subtle. We’re going for stealth, remember? I’m dying to cause a little mayhem, but we don’t want to call attention to ourselves. I’ve seen how many roaches that can come out of that hotel.” I tried to sound confident or even a little aloof, but the crackle in my voice betrayed my fear.
“Your cousins are nothing but banished Woebegone, like you and me. We can cut them down like any other sack of crap.”
“Yeah, well, Charlie is that high grade sort of crap. The kind they pack in Kevlar sacks lined with C-4.”
“The only power they have over you is the power you give them. You have the tools to do the job. Let’s get the job done.”
With that, Alex strode forward to face the mob of lazy looking goons loitering next to the building.
I strode up beside her, doing my best to match her bad ass attitude. I had to admit, striding into the midst of these half-wits dressed to kill felt good. We must have appeared every bit as intimidating as I felt because the second the goons got a look at us, they straightened like a pack of nervous meerkats.
One of the Woebegone, a guy chewing on a greasy toothpick, managed to steel his spine a little more than the others and stepped forward, holding a hand out in front of him. I pulled up short, about three paces behind Alex, letting her face the guy down and giving myself room to work in case things turned ugly. My money was not on diplomacy.
“Shove off. You can’t be here,” he barked.
Alex bristled at his tone. And Toothpick pulled out to an early lead.
“I’ll make you a deal.” Alex said, squaring off with him. “Why don’t you and your boys take a break while my partner and I do whatever we want? I think you know who we represent. Step aside, and you can leave without turning into a rotting carcass.”
Alex grinned and leaned in a little for effect.
Toothpick bared his black and yellows to hiss out a response ... or at least he tried to. My Whip Crack reached out and removed the upper half of his torso. Toothpick’s face barely registered the shock as his body collapsed to the dirt.
The other nineteen or so Woebegone stared in disbelief as we waited for them to decide on their next course of action. Mob mentality ruled in cases like this. All it took was one to lead the way, and the rest would follow.
I walked up to stand even with Alex, twisting and flipping the Whip Crack with my wrist, making it writhe like an angry snake.
“What happened to subtle?” Alex deadpanned.
“I went with the moment. He assaulted you with his breath. I fought back.”
“Thanks for defending my honor. What about these guys?”
The Woebegone could hear every word we said, even though we spoke as though they weren’t there.
“They’re not leaving. I guess we fight?” I phrased that last bit as more of a question and focused my stare on the Woebegone standing closest to me. His eyes went wide as he tried to press his body back through the metal wall behind him. I waited a beat then took a step forward. That was all the invitation he needed. Sheep number one turned and ran like his wool was on fire. The others watched his retreat for a second or two, then all at once, the rest of the flock erupted into a fumbling dance of tripping feet and flailing elbows. They retreated in every direction, spreading like ants to disappear into the metalwork that surrounded us.
“That wasn’t so hard.” I retracted the Whip Crack and made a show of dusting off my suit jacket.
Alex cringed. “Don’t ever say that. Not ever. As soon as, ‘That wasn’t so hard,’ or, ‘That was easy,’ pops out of your mouth, a flaming ball of trouble comes rolling down the hill to prove you wrong.”
I laughed. “I had no idea you were so superstitious. First the Voodoo thing and now this?”
Alex stopped and leveled a finger at me. “One more word and you are on your own.”
I reached up and made a locking motion next to my lips.
“Good, now let’s find something to get us up to that balcony.”
It didn’t take long to find a scrap piece of steel suitable to use as a makeshift ladder. The stuff sat everywhere in Scrapyard City. The place had been torn apart and rebuilt so many times it was past the point of counting. Woebegone took what they needed out of the street and lashed it together however they could. Free tetanus on every corner, that was our motto.
Of course, available didn’t mean light or easy to move. It took pretty much everything Alex and I had to drag the steel beam over and set it in place. Once we did, however, it felt like a solid bridge to the top.
“What happens if we get up there and the door’s locked?” Alex raised an eyebrow.
I peered up at the door leading inside and sighed. “Kick it in?”
Alex chuckled. “Standing on a rickety balcony kicking in a solid steel door. Great plan. Both subtle and realistic.”
I threw up my arms. “If you have a better idea, I would love to hear it.”
“Don’t worry,” came another voice from behind us. “If you can get up to that door, I can promise it won’t be locked.”
Chapter Forty
I spun to meet the familiar voice so fast I almost fell to the ground with my legs crossed over one another. Franco stood several yards away and behind him stood Charlie. His eyes
were hooded with fury, and he took deep, rapid breaths as if he were so hungry for a fight, he could barely contain himself. Charlie had another one of his ragged toothed bats. The head of it rested in the charred soil as he toted the handle in his fingers as if the weapon were too heavy to lift off the ground.
Franco wore his usual air of arrogance, along with his car salesman suit and tie. At least I had him beat in that regard. I wore Gucci in black silk. His turd brown suit would never hold up to that.
“It looks as if you brought some capable help this time. On duty, are we? I must say, your uniforms are every bit what one would expect of a Judas Agent.”
“You would know.” I said, keeping my voice low and controlled. “Or so we’ve heard. Word is you’re keeping someone special up there. We’d love to meet him.”
Franco frowned and shook his head. “I’m afraid we don’t have anyone the Judas Agency would be interested in. In fact, we have it on very good authority that your kind has no jurisdiction in this matter.”
Alex narrowed her eyes and took a step forward. “We have jurisdiction in every matter.”
Franco matched her step and smiled back at her holding up a finger. “Not everything. Don’t make the mistake of believing the Judas Agency is the highest law in the land. There are authorities higher than you or even your precious Judas Iscariot.”
I took a step forward to stand by Alex, not so much to match her, but because when Franco raised his hand, I saw what he bore beneath his coat sleeves. A pair of gauntlets known as Blood Rakes. They had dozens of retractable barbed hooks in the palms, razor-like ridges on the backhands, and a retractable shaft that would shoot out with explosive force when he landed a punch. As if that weren’t enough, the shank also flared out in a four-way star pattern the moment it pierced a target, shredding any puncture into a gaping hole.
Blood Rakes weren’t just offensive either. Under his sleeves, he would have armored gauntlets all the way to his elbows, tough enough to stop even a hit from my Whip Crack. My cousins were not here to chat. They were here to fight. Even then, it wouldn’t be much of a battle. Both of them were outfitted with weapons, and we only had one. I could give Alex my Knuckle Stunner but talk about bringing a knife to a bazooka fight.
“Nice hardware.” Alex had noticed his fashion choice as well. “You know it’s illegal for a Woebegone to be in the possession of something that dangerous. You going to tell me that’s out of my jurisdiction too?”
Franco shook his head. “Not at all. In fact, you’re welcome to come over and confiscate them. Perhaps Gobble Gabe would like to take Charlie’s toy as well.”
He turned his gaze to me and smiled. “It was quite rude to take his last one without asking.”
I tightened my hand around the handle to my Whip Crack, and the familiar sound of rasping metal hissed as the looping snake of deadly blades played out near my ankles.
“Why don’t the three of us take care of this?” I growled. “She doesn’t have a weapon. Even you aren’t low enough to cut down an unarmed woman when there’s a fight standing right in front of you.”
The plea was obvious. But I had to try. Alex was one of the most dangerous hand to hand fighters I had ever seen, but when you threw Hellion weapons into the ring, it was a whole different kind of fight.
Franco laughed. “What about it, Ms. Neveu? Are you a damsel in distress or the killer I came out to meet?”
He flexed his hands, and I could see the hooks in his palms writhe with the movement. If he got a hold of her with those things, it would be over in a second.
Alex stared him down for a moment, then I heard that musical little jingle from earlier. I looked down to see Alex had a set of weapons after all. Kamas with jagged, retractable blades. Like mini scythes, only each one had two razor sharp edges instead of one. An intricate chain hung from the handles and wound up into her sleeves. I had no doubt Alex could turn those weapons into a whirlwind of death at a moment’s notice.
She stood there for a second or two, letting them size her up, then all at once, she dropped one of the Kamas and kicked it forward, sending the arced blade streaking forth on a trajectory for Franco’s head. The movement came so fast, he barely had time to duck before Alex retracted the weapon ready for another strike.
Franco didn’t smile any longer. Charlie, however, looked like he had just received every birthday wish he’d ever made.
“So much for diplomacy.” I splayed the Whip Crack out to my right as Charlie sidestepped the two of us in an obvious attempt to hem us in. I didn’t know why he wanted to cage us close together, but I figured anything my cousins wanted was bad for our health.
I stepped away from Alex, giving us both room to work. I wanted to have her back in case anything went wrong, but I had my hands full with Charlie. The best thing I could do was beat him fast and make sure I returned in time to help her if she needed it.
Charlie held his club at the ready and charged. I figured he would be ready for one of my long-range strikes, so I held off and waited for him to get close. At the last second, I pulled the Whip Crack up in a circle and formed a giant O in front of my body, like Alex had shown me. I didn’t think there was any way he could dodge it, but somehow, he managed to dive low and roll away, catching my ankle with the teeth of his club.
I staggered and lost focus on my movement, nearly lopping my own head off in the process. When I regained control, my Whip Crack laid in a tangled mess on the ground. Not the best position for another attack. Charlie, however, was already up and running again.
He charged in, screaming like a banshee, and I crossed my arms above my head to ward off the blow. My telegraphed defense was so obvious Charlie feinted high, then landed a crushing blow to my ribcage. My arms went down, and it was all I could do to keep breathing. That’s when a red-hot explosion hit me in the face, and everything went sideways.
Pain leached into my consciousness, and I tried to open my eyes. The whole side of my head felt like it had been caved in, and many of my teeth seemed to be floating inside my mouth. Blood choked me, and I gagged out a mouthful of the coppery sludge so I could breathe, then everything went black.
A shout brought back my awareness. One eye still worked, so I forced it open as far as I could, peeking around at my surroundings. I was lying on the ground, one cheek on the dirt. I saw Alex engaged in an elaborate and deadly dance with Franco. She had her bladed Kamas swinging in from every angle, but he was able to dodge or block every assault with his Blood Rakes.
Charlie still stood next to me. He held his club in his hands, clutching it like a bloodthirsty lunatic, watching the fight. I had blacked out without realizing it. Franco must have told him to lay off, otherwise, I’d be dead already.
Franco got closer and closer with each of his strikes, and I could tell Alex was beginning to tire. Her acrobatic style looked far more impressive than Franco’s stand and defend tactic, but it was more taxing too. Sooner or later, she would make a mistake, and he’d have her. The moment those hooks dug into flesh, he would pull her down like a wounded sparrow, and it would be over.
Charlie grunted and growled with excitement. He hadn’t noticed I had regained consciousness. He was too preoccupied with the prospect of seeing Alex gutted.
There had to be a way for me to help her, but how? I couldn’t move. The second I did, Charlie would drive that battering ram right down into my skull. It was a risk even opening my eye.
Charlie shuffled forward again, and I saw my answer. The splayed tangle of my Whip Crack rested a few inches from his feet. I strained my vision, looking for the handle. Hope dwindled when I saw it. The handle was too far away. I would never reach it before he reacted ... unless.
I waited, praying Alex would hold out a little longer. She lunged with her Kamas, but Franco ducked under it and caught her shoulder with the razorblades on his backhand. Alex screeched in pain, and Charlie stepped forward a little further. Just far enough.
I lunged, and Charlie saw me move. He turned to br
ing his club down on my head, but his ankles had become tangled in the loops of my Whip Crack. He tripped, giving me the extra reach I needed. I snatched the handle, stood, and yanked the Whip Crack to life.
The shrieking cry Charlie emitted was enough to stop Franco dead mid-swing. Charlie screamed until his lungs gave out. After a long silent moment, he took in a breath and screamed again, then the screams kept coming and never stopped.
Franco’s tactics had turned as well, and now he was on his heels. Alex seemed to be striking almost at will as he backed his way over to where his brother lay in a pool of his own blood.
I raised my Whip Crack and waited for him to back into range. The moment he was, I would take his head and then end his brother’s screaming too. Alex pounded him back, one blow after the other, then with one final strike, she hammered a jagged blade into his chest.
Franco went down on his back and held his hands up in surrender. He fumbled and struggled with the Blood Rakes, trying to get them off, then tossed them to the ground after bloodying his own hands on the blades in the process.
“You win. Let us go, and you’ll never see us again, I swear,” Franco pleaded.
Alex stood a few feet away from him, swinging one of her Kamas in a lazy circle. Her eyes went up to me as if to ask for mercy. These two men had never shown it to anyone else. They had tortured, raped, used, murdered hundreds—no— thousands of souls, Woebegone and Human alike. They deserved no mercy.
I turned the Whip Crack in my hand and got ready to give her my answer, but something stopped me. A scream, but it wasn’t Charlie. He had already screamed his lungs dry. It was another, coming from the second floor of the building. Alex looked up as well, and we both knew. It was Zoe, and she was in trouble.
Chapter Forty-One
I had to drop my Whip Crack in order to clamber up our makeshift ladder to the balcony. True to Franco’s word, the door leading into the building was unlocked. When I threw it open, I saw why. Zoe was bound to the wall by a long chain and shackles around her wrists. Presently, she sat on the floor holding the side of her head while a trickle of blood ran over her rapidly fatting lip. The only other Woebegone in the room crouched a few feet away, completing what appeared to be a ritual circle of some sort. It was filled with all sorts of scribbling and symbols I didn’t understand. But that wasn’t the only problem.