Sentries of Camelot (Ruby Morgan Book 2)

by LJ Rivers

  I whirled through the air, pulling the force field towards me, and managed to wrap it around me before I landed, more than twenty-five yards from where I’d taken off. There were only two guards left, and they hadn’t fixed their guns on me. Big mistake. This Mag had more in store for them. I let go of the force field and loaded my hands with more fire. The adrenalin was fuelling my powers.

  A bone-shattering pain sent spasms through my body, throwing me to the ground, face down. My body shook as the familiar electricity surged through me. I tried to reach for my magic, but it wouldn’t respond. Small lines of fire ran in the grass from my hands, ignited by the remaining heat that I no longer could control.

  “That’s it, you Maggot. You’re done here!”

  He spun me to my back like a ragdoll. In his hand was a black rod, maybe four feet long, with me attached to the end by a metal wire around my neck. I’d seen them on TV, dog catchers or even crocodile hunters used them. I was defenceless, spitting moss and sand as I tried to fix my gaze on him.

  His eyes widened, the sheer madness glaring at me. “Mordred wanted you for himself, little’un. Seeing what you’ve done to my colleagues—my friends—I think I’ll have to disappoint him.”

  I ignored his words and tried to reach my magic. He pushed the button on the rod, sending another jolt of electricity through my limp body. As his lips parted and drew into a rabid grin, drops of saliva fell on my arm.

  “No more magic for you, I’m afraid.” His voice had turned into a mix between a hissing snake and a roaring tiger. He let go of the rod with his right hand and drew a pistol from the holster on his hip.

  “Sleep tight.”

  I stared into the black void of the muzzle, bracing for what I hoped would be quick and painless.

  A loud growl split the air, but it was not the sentry who screamed. Our eyes met, his shock written on his face. Before any of us could react, he was thrown sideways by a huge, white, furry mass.

  The wire around my neck loosened, and I grabbed it to pull it over my head. A few feet to my left, the forest floor turned red. The guard lay on the ground, frantically trying to fight off the snapping mouth that had already ripped huge chunks of meat from his torso.

  The wolf glanced at me, and I swore I could see a question in her eyes.

  I nodded. “I’m ok, Jen.”

  Jen returned to ripping the guard to pieces, only letting up when his head no longer could be counted as part of him. It dangled by a thin sinew from Jen’s blood-soaked fangs, two feet above the pulp that once had been a man. Jen shook her head, like a dog playing with a sock, causing the head to fly sideways, coming to rest somewhere in the darkness.

  “Behind you!” I shouted.

  A muzzle flame lit up from behind a tree. Jen let out a howl and pounced for the shooter. I finally managed to free myself from the loop and the pole and got to my knees. Jen was almost at the tree, hurling herself at the guard. As she landed atop him, her canines penetrated his eye sockets.

  “Look out, Nick!” Oliver yelled behind me.

  They hadn’t got away. Jen seemed to have everything under control—if tearing into a grown man’s rib cage with one’s forepaws could be described as control. I turned and dashed towards Oliver’s voice. I heard no gunshots, which had to be a good sign. Didn’t it?

  It wasn’t. At the outskirts of the treeline, Nick and Oliver were fighting off a six-foot-five policeman in full uniform. The copper swung his nightstick repeatedly at Nick, who fended off each blow with an iron rod like a knight with his sword.

  Oliver sat on the ground, his hands pressing against his temples. Was he hurt? Or was he trying to get into the copper’s head?

  I didn’t plan on waiting to find out. The effects of the electric shocks had died down, and I could sense my powers boosting in my core. With a surge of magic—and quite a bit of adrenalin—I pushed a force field towards Nick without missing a step. As the field enclosed him, the copper stopped his forehand practice and turned to face me.

  I prepared to launch a fireball at him, but something in his eyes changed. Shifted. From anger to fear—no, confusion.

  “You’ll want this,” the policeman said, throwing the nightstick at my feet. “I can sit here.” He crouched, dusted the grass with his hand, and sat. “He will put my cuffs on now.” He pointed at Oliver, who leaned over him, opened the little black holster, and took the handcuffs.

  Oliver smiled at me, swaying a little. Sweat trickled down his temple.

  “I’ve got him,” he said. “But not for long.”

  The policeman amiably moved his hands behind his back, and Oliver clicked the cuffs in place, before falling flat on the grass.

  “Ollie!” I dropped to my knees next to him. “Are you hurt?”

  “Tis but a flesh wound,” he moaned, giving me a crooked smile. “Get it?”

  “I do. The Black Knight. Fitting,” I said, nodding at the farm. “I guess we’ve found Camelot.”

  I lay my hand on his chest, ready to send my healing into his body, but he pushed me away.

  “Really, I’m fine. Save your energy. This isn’t over yet.”

  He was right, of course. There were lots of Mags inside, and I had no intention of leaving them there for a minute more than needed.

  “How many guards, you reckon?” I said.

  “How many did we get?”

  “I think there are four or five in the woods, and the five from before. And this vegetable, of course.” I nodded at the very cooperative policeman; PC Spencer, according to the name tag on his chest pocket.

  “He came up the road,” Nick said. “Care to let me out of this soap bubble?”

  I had forgotten about the force field, which puzzled me, as I could feel no strain on my stamina. I released my hold on it.

  “Oliver had another guy shoot himself, but only after the guard knocked him hard on the head. Bet you’ve got a nice concussion there, mate.”

  “Not unlikely. Took me a while to get into this guy’s brain because of it. Got a serious hangover now.” He turned to the policeman again.

  PC Spencer flinched, then nodded slowly. “I was on my way to the morning shift. I am early because my girlfriend and I had a fight last night and I couldn’t sleep. I will break up with her when I get home.” His eyes shone, and a tear threatened to fall from one corner. “I should have left her long ago.”

  “When do the rest of the morning shift get here?” I asked.

  Spencer looked at his watch. “In about an hour and a half.”

  Oliver shook his head, and the copper gasped as the invisible cable connecting their brains snapped.

  “Wow, that’s not something you see every day,” Nick said.

  At first, I thought he was talking about the impressive mind-controlling show Oliver had put on, but his eyes were looking at something behind me. I turned.

  What had become one of my absolute favourite sights over the past weeks came trotting out of the treeline. Jen was still in her magnificent wolf form, blood splatters all over her white fur. In her mouth, the large canines glimmered in what had become the early morning light.

  “Gentlemen, meet my little pet,” I said.

  A low growl of discontent rumbled in her throat.

  “Sorry, you’re right,” I said. “Neither little nor pet.”

  For some reason, it seemed appropriate to stroke Jen’s fur, like I would a dog, something I’d never done before. She looked at me with large blue eyes, squinting ever so slightly. I interpreted it as approval and scratched her behind the ear. Her tail wagged gently from side to side.

  “He’s amazing,” Nick said. “What’s his name?”

  “We’ll get to that.” A weak smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “So, Oliver, want to take a wild stab at a number? How many guards left?”

  “The searchlights aren’t moving anymore,” he said, “so that’s probably a couple who’ve gone down off the roof. Not sure if they need one per spot, but still. Maybe five more inside. Or mor
e.”

  “Between five and ten, then?” I said. “Armed and drugged up.”

  He shrugged. “Give or take.”

  “Guess we have our work cut out,” I said.

  “Guess so,” Nick said. “Wait, what?”

  I let out a little laugh. “We, as in me and the wolf. And I won’t let those poor Mags sit in their cages with a bunch of gun-toting knights of the friggin’ round table in there.”

  “Right. No, of course not,” Nick said.

  “You stay put here, though. Ollie too. For protection.”

  “Who’s going to protect whom?” Oliver said. “For a human, this guy isn’t too shabby.”

  Jen walked between the boys, stopping to sniff Oliver. Her tail stopped wagging.

  “He’s hurt, I know,” I said.

  Oliver raised his eyebrows. “It can tell?”

  “To be fair, Stevie Wonder could see that you’re out of commission, mate,” Nick said. “As much as I hate you going back, Ruby, I see why you have to. I’ll keep brainy-boy here company.” Patting Oliver on the shoulder, he made himself comfortable next to him. “Just don’t go digging in my head or anything.”

  Oliver sighed. “Don’t think I could if I tried. Be careful, Ruby.”

  “We will. Find someplace to hide, and if we don’t come out … well, run like Forrest Gump!”

  I got to my feet and scratched Jen behind her ear. “We’ve got some Mags to free. Ready, sweetie?”

  Nineteen

  The flush of the morning had given us more light, which was both good news and bad. The good being that I could get a clearer picture of our surroundings. From our vantage point next to the forest, or what was left of it, I counted three buildings. A gravel road led up to the farmhouse, which probably served as sleeping quarters for the guards. Outside the house, three cars stood parked. Two vans, one of which most likely had transported Nick and me here yesterday. Or was it two days ago? I had no concept of time, other than the fact that a new day was on the horizon. Tuesday?

  Behind the farmhouse was a long building that looked like stables. It made sense since there were remnants of an obstacle course in the fields further back.

  And then there was the barn. It was by far the largest building, which had probably once housed a large number of cows, pigs, and whatever animals this farm had before. Before the Sentries of Camelot had acquired it and turned it into this medieval nightmare in a 21st-century wrapping, with cages and labs, and blood extracting contraptions.

  The bad news was that the increasing visibility was also to our disadvantage, as we could very well find ourselves live targets for trigger-happy coppers. No reason to wait any longer.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered in Jen’s ear.

  We crossed the open field as quickly as we could, which meant she had to wait for me on the other side. When I caught up, she looked back at Nick and Oliver, nodding her snout for me to look as well. They had retreated to some bushes at the edge of the forest. Good!

  A whooshing sound and a gust of wind made me turn back in time to witness the final part of her shifting. If I lived to be a hundred, I’d never get used to the sight. Or stop being amazed by it.

  “Hey, Red. What’s up?”

  I nearly broke down, but my mind couldn’t decide between a laughing fit or crying.

  “Where’s the cat?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  “The one that’s got your tongue, no?”

  “Sorry, I’m just so insanely happy to see you! Both in and out of your furry attire.”

  I realised the double entendre, as she was buck naked, but she just waved it off.

  “I’ll shift back soon. I just needed to talk to you, and even though I can hear and understand you while rocking wolfie style, I have no way of communicating with you.” Her face shifted from the playful to the serious Jen. “What’s the situation?”

  “You heard our estimation on the number of guards, and they’re most likely higher than the Empire State on PureX.”

  “PureX?”

  “MagX times a hundred,” I said.

  “And we want to fight them because—?”

  “Because they’re keeping dozens of Mags in cages in there. And I fear they might employ some scorched-earth tactics, killing off all the Mags. I could be wrong, but I don’t want to risk it.”

  “Ah, ok,” Jen said in her everyday manner. “Then we free them, cool.”

  I turned my palms up and drew a skewed smile at her. “Basically, yes.”

  “TTYL.” Jen wiggled her eyebrows and shifted back.

  “So,” I said, trying to sound casual. “It’s a laundromat as well. How convenient.”

  Her fur had no signs of the blood splatters, and her giant canines looked fresh from the dentist. Her eyes were icy blue, with pitch dark centres. She winked at me—maybe she blinked with both eyes and I just imagined it being such a human thing as a wink— and started towards the door I had so gladly run out of a little while ago.

  I followed her, keeping as close to the wall as possible, making sure nobody could spot us from the narrow windows. When we reached the door, Jen stopped. Her ears turned towards the opening like radar receptors, while her snout twitched up and down as she sniffed the air. She seemed content that nobody was inside. I wanted to encapsulate her with a force field, but as I would likely need all the energy I had in my magic storage, I had to trust she could fend for herself.

  We entered the corridor and proceeded with stealthy steps towards the large hall. Halfway there, we had to cross over the unconscious guard and his headless colleague. I had to focus not to slip in the large pool of blood surrounding them, and Jen got to the double doors before me. Again, she stopped, sniffed and listened.

  Her head dropped an inch, and she bared her teeth. A low, rumbling growl vibrated from her throat. She was warning me!

  I gave her the thumbs up. “I’m ready.”

  With no clear idea of what awaited behind the doors, I held my hands in front of me, igniting my inner furnace. The time that had passed since I torched the woods outside had done the trick, there was no doubt in my mind. I could sense it. I was strong.

  “Stand back,” I whispered, and Jen obeyed. She took a position right next to me. “In three, two, one!”

  With a surge so powerful I nearly fell backwards, I hurled a flame towards the doors. I tried to keep it in the shape of a cylinder, planning to blast the doors open so I could fire my glowing bullets at whoever was there. It seemed I had miscalculated the force.

  The doors blew open, all right. They disintegrated the instant my flame-thrower hit them and didn’t seem to slow the fire down the slightest. Five man-like torches behind the opening swayed and fell on the floor, which itself stood ablaze in a ten-foot-wide line towards the back wall. I pulled back, the flame no longer spurting from my palms. Jen’s paws spun on the floor, leaving long trails from her claws in the dust as she jumped over the burning bodies. She landed and quickly jumped to the side to avoid getting burned on the hot part of the floor.

  I followed, and for the first time since I discovered my firepower, I wondered if I could withstand fire altogether. I knew I didn’t burn my hands when I let it out, but so far, I had never actually walked through fire, so to speak.

  Instead of jumping over the burning corpses, I walked slowly between them. Flames licked my feet, but I didn’t feel any pain. Looking down in awe, I soon realised what an idiot I was. My pants were not flame retardant at all, even if I seemed to be. Crouching, I patted the burning denim, thinking that I had to buy a new pair. I stomped my feet in an attempt to save what was left of my shoes. The soles had melted down to nothing more than a skin-like strip of rubber, or whatever soles were made of these days.

  I quickly came out of the trance, though, as Jen’s howl filled the hall. She was standing by the splintered door, the one Mordred had skewed with a piece of the guardrail. Crap! I had forgotten about that. The gangway was gone. It wouldn’t be a problem for me, as I could a
lways jump down to the floor below—maybe in a force field if I had to. Jen could definitely clear the opening. But we needed to find another way to get the Mags out of here.

  I ran the few yards to Jen and peeked through the opening. Jen threw her head in front of me, pushing me back. A barrage of bullets hit the doorway, sending hundreds of tiny wooden shards flying everywhere. Dozens of them stung my skin like bees.

  “How many?” I said, realising the absurdity of my question. “Never mind. I’ll throw more fire at them.” For some reason, it seemed that easy. Throw some fire, and burn the shit out of them. La de da!

  The problem was that I had to stick at least parts of myself into the opening to do so, and while the bullets were on a break right now, the inferno was sure to ensue the millisecond I showed a fingertip.

  “Any Jumpers here?” a thundering voice bellowed, crashing like a train through my gut.

  Mordred!

  There was no time to try and understand, though, as two guards popped up behind us out of thin air. Mum had told me about seeing a Magical like that before. She called him a Jumper.

  Jen spun and bounced at the one closest to her. He hit her hard with a baseball bat. Jen whimpered and fell to the floor, blood coating the white fur on the side of her head.

  “You bastard!” I screamed.

  With a flick of my wrist, I sent a fireball—incidentally of about baseball size—towards him. It hit him in the chest but never stopped. He looked down at the gaping hole, then up at me, stupefied. I had no interest in exchanging glances.

  Instead, I turned to the other guard, who came at me with his own bat. In the back of my mind, a thought managed to flicker by. Jumpers couldn’t bring metal with them on their jumps.

  No gun then. Only a large piece of bonfire material.

  In an instant, I set him ablaze. I wasn’t even looking at him anymore. I didn’t care. The rush inside me was as intoxicating as before, if not more wild, almost primal. These guys had tortured and killed Mags. My kind. No way would that happen again. I realised what I had to do to stop it. Who I had to get to.