Death Match (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: Death Match (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 2)
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We crawled across the ground, trying to keep our heads below the stones. I heard more grunting, this time to my left. Two more distinct voices.

"I hear them," Thompson whispered.

"Me too," I replied.

"They're over there," we said in unison, each pointing in the opposite direction.

The sound of digging caught my attention. I peered between two large headstones to see another couple of Ghuls looking for a late night snack.

Two Ghuls to the north of us, two south, two west and two east. Not six but eight Ghuls. Either Penn admission standards were dropping, or two of their ugly friends had lurked undetected.

We were surrounded. The Ghuls just didn't know it yet.

I scraped my front along the ground. My first nice dress since my cuffs and it was already ripped and muddy. You couldn't take me anywhere.

Thompson was remarkably cool for someone surrounded by the type of monsters that murdered her parents. I thought she might freak out when she realized the danger of the situation, but she was hanging in there. I gave her a thumbs up.

"Don't patronize me," came the harsh reply.

I should be frightened. After all, I only had Thompson's gun and one dagger against eight depraved killing machines. My mind was still in the habit of outperforming Ghuls, though. It would take time for it to catch up to my physical reality.

A series of grunts halted our progress. Was this simply basic communication?
Hey, how's your night going? Enjoy the appendages? Mine were a bit thin on meat.
Or something else?

A gust of wind blew overhead and I heard the loud sniff behind us.
Double shit
. One of them had gotten a whiff of us. We'd be dead in sixty seconds if we didn't make a move now.

"On my signal, run as fast as you can. Head for two o'clock," I whispered. Two o'clock was between two sets of Ghuls and toward the cars. The odds sucked, but it was our best chance. I'd have to leave the cheap heels behind.

"Go!" I cried and bolted from my hiding spot. I launched over headstones like a track star, careful not to catch the tip of my foot. If I tripped, they'd be digging another grave by morning—if there was anything left of me to bury.

I felt Thompson next to me albeit slightly behind. In the distance, the streetlights glowed like a beacon in the night. It was too far. We'd never make it.

Thompson's piercing scream seemed to confirm my fears.

I turned in time to see a Ghul grab the back of Thompson's black PTF shirt and drag her toward him. He sniffed her and nodded to his friend, as though confirming her scent.

"No!" I couldn't let her die by their hands. It was bad enough her parents were killed so horrifically. No way would I let the same thing happen to her.

I spun around and fired Thompson's SIG at the friend. Bull’s-eye! Right through the temple. It was a risk taking out the companion Ghul first, but I couldn't risk hitting Thompson and the temple was one of their more vulnerable spots. My theory was that Ghuls in human form had something akin to an open fontanel, but it was located at the forehead instead of the top of the head. In some of my previous Ghul encounters, their foreheads were sunken, possibly as a result of malnutrition.

The Ghul holding Thompson looked momentarily confused when his buddy dissolved to dust. He continued to dangle the detective in the air by the back of her shirt.

"Drop her," I said. I aimed the gun at his temple now. He was well over a foot taller than her. I was fairly confident I could make the shot.

"Behind you," Thompson called.

I heard their thundering footsteps as they grew closer. The other six would be upon me in about twenty seconds. I wouldn't have enough time to unload a round and turn. I couldn't miss.

As the other Ghuls closed in on me, I took the shot. The copper bullet penetrated his forehead, same as his friend.

"I warned you," I said, outwardly confident but inwardly a nervous wreck.

Thompson drew her weapon and fired two shots behind me. I unsheathed my dagger from its position on my outer thigh and faced the approaching Ghuls to my right. Why weren't they shifting? They could have easily killed us both by now if they'd changed forms.

A flash of white whizzed past me and landed with a paw on each Ghul. An enormous white tiger with saber-style teeth and a muscular body that screamed 'top of the food chain.'

"Mix!" I said.

The trio crashed to the ground and I heard the snarling and gnashing of teeth as they fought for dominance. Behind me, a stocky, reddish brown wolverine used its iron jaws to tear a Ghul apart. I hadn't seen Farah shift into a wolverine since we were kids.

Before the other Ghul could attack Farah, I raised my dagger and used a headstone to catapult myself onto his chest. He blinked in surprise, or he would have blinked if he'd had eyelids. I buried the dagger in his mouth and yanked it out again. My free hand gripped his thick neck and my legs were wrapped around his middle so I didn't fall. I struck again, this time slitting his throat. I tried not to breathe through my nose. He smelled like dead fish and not the kind I’d hoped to eat at Villa Noir.

The wolverine's jaws attached to his leg with more ferocity than I'd ever seen in such a small beast. Although she favored her fox form, I was damn grateful she'd opted for wolverine tonight.

Finally, there were two Ghuls left. The four of us surrounded them, Mix and Farah still in their mammal forms and ready to strike.

"We can't let them leave," I said.

"I'd like to ask them a few questions before we kill them," Thompson said. She was covered from head to toe in black muck. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. I could only imagine how I looked right now.

"They won't talk," I said. Ghuls rarely talked. There was nothing you could leverage against them except their lives and these two already knew their heads were next on the chopping block.

"No harm in asking," she said and walked closer to them. Her gun was poised and ready for any sudden movements. "Why are you here?"

The Ghuls grunted at her.

"Why are there so many of you?" she continued, undeterred.

"The games," the one on the right said in a deep, cracked voice.

Okay, so they
were
here for the Colony Games.

"Are you competing?" I asked, stepping in line with Thompson.

"Watching," he replied and smiled, showing off his jagged and rotting teeth.

"Cheering," his friend added.

"Do the names Ray and Beverly Thompson mean anything to you?" the detective asked.

It was a lost cause. Ghuls rarely knew the names of their victims. They were opportunists. They'd probably glimpsed the sleeping couple through the window and simply attacked.

"No, but I bet they tasted good." The chatty Ghul grinned again and Thompson discharged a round straight into his mouth. The Ghul's head exploded from the inside out, covering his friend in Ghul brain matter, what little there was. I nearly applauded.

The remaining Ghul tried to run, but it was a futile effort. Mix's tiger form tackled him and ripped into his throat with his elongated front teeth.

"Why didn't they shift?" Farah asked, echoing my thoughts. She was back in her human form and surveying the carnage.

"Maybe they're under orders not to..." Thompson began and then paused. "Except you said Ghuls don't take orders from anyone."

"They don't." And they'd certainly ignore orders in the name of self-preservation. Ghuls were dumb, but they had survival instincts.

"They said they're here for the games," Thompson said. "Do we believe them?"

I rubbed my cheek, trying to wipe away all traces of Ghul. "It's certainly possible." Although it didn't explain Ghuls suddenly hanging out in groups or their inability to shift. Ghuls were usually tougher to kill.

"How did you find us?" Thompson asked.

Mix shifted back to human and wiped the blood from his face with the bottom of his pink polo shirt. If Serena Edwards could see us now, she wouldn't let Pinky within a ten-mile radius of us ever again.

Farah held up her phone. "I have a tracker app for my car."

"Where's Pinky?" I asked.

"Her mom took her home," Mix said. "Farah didn't check the phone until we left the restaurant. When she saw the location, she insisted we come looking for you."

"Thanks, guys. For once, I'm glad you were nosy."

"You should try the scallops the next time you go," Mix said. "They were out of this world."

Thompson was still breathing heavily as she fished around for her car key. "Well, thanks everyone. Feels good to be in one piece." She patted me on the back. "Thanks for coming, Winters. I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

Mix gently punched my shoulder. "Hey, that's got to be a switch for you. Getting dragged into other people's messes. How do you feel?"

"Hungry." My stomach growled again and I gave him a pathetic look. "By any chance, did anyone leave with a doggy bag?"

15

"
I
have a present for you
," Pinky said. It was late and we were back in the warehouse with Flynn, trying to increase Pinky's response time. It was all well and good to learn powerful spells, but if she couldn't do them quickly enough, she'd die. Nobody wanted to see that happen.

"For me?"

"A thank you for helping me train." She produced my new tiger's eye yantoks.

"You were able to work your mojo on them?" I asked. They looked exactly the same as before.

"Check it out and see," she said.

I took the yantoks and released them to their full length.

"Almost as impressive as mine," Flynn said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. "They don't seem any different."

"They're pretty," Flynn said. "Maybe we can add a few colorful ribbons on the ends."

Pinky whispered a word in my ear and I repeated it. The yantoks began to glow with a golden light.

"Okay, so you don't need the ribbons," Flynn said.

I touched his arm with one of the glowing yantoks and his body seized and then shuddered. He dropped to the floor, still writhing and foaming at the mouth.

"Gods and stars," I breathed, staring at the guilty yantok. "What kind of spell is that?"

"I doubled the power on a stun spell," Pinky replied with a note of pride. "All you need to say is 'stun.'"

I glanced at the other baton. "And what would have happened if I'd touched him with both yantoks?"

She grimaced. "I guess it's a good thing you only used one."

Flynn's body finally stopped moving, but he continued to lay in a heap on the concrete floor. He twisted his neck to look up at us.

"Holy Plasma Plane," he said with a groan. "What else can they do?"

Pinky smiled, clearly pleased with herself. She whispered in my ear again.

"Seriously?" I asked, impressed.

"You said you wanted that kind of ability," Pinky said.

"Hell, I'll take anything above run-of-the-mill human, but this is incredible." I uttered the word as Pinky instructed and the yantoks glowed white this time. I aimed one at the small window near the top of the warehouse wall. A beam of light shot from the end of the yantok and shattered the window. Shards of glass fell to the floor.

"You turned it into a laser taser," Flynn noted, now back on his feet. "Can I try?"

I handed him the baton. "Say 'laser.'"

He aimed it at the window and said the magic word. Nothing happened.

He looked at Pinky. "What gives?"

She wore a coy expression. "It's only designed for Alyse and me. No one else can activate the spells, that way they can't be used against her if someone manages to take them from her."

My mouth dropped open. Pinky created exclusive weapons for me. I felt a surge of pride.

"I know it's not the same as getting your powers back," Pinky said, "but it's as close as I can get you right now."

"What do you mean 'right now'?" Flynn asked.

Pinky gave a modest shrug. "If I keep developing my magic, I might be able to help Alyse even more. Give her speed or strength or something."

That seemed unlikely, but I didn't want to dissuade her. "Thanks for these, Pinky. They're amazing."

"I've infused them with a few more tricks," Pinky said. "I can show you later."

"Yes, please," I said and pried the yantok from Flynn's disappointed grip.

"Maybe you can make something like that for me," Flynn said. "I'd love a magic dagger. Something that hits the target no matter how poorly I throw it."

"You don't need a magic dagger," I said. "You're still a full-blown Jann. You can summon and shift. You can move at the speed of light. You can turn invisible." I started to feel a twinge of envy.

Flynn flashed a lopsided grin. "When you put it like that...I am pretty talented, aren't I?"

I groaned and aimed the yantok at his stomach. "Should we see how powerful your abs really are?"

He stretched his neck from side to side. "I like the way you think, Alyse."

"Pinky," I said, "you might want to stand back against the wall. This could get ugly."

"Shouldn't I be involved then?" she asked. "I need help with the big, the bad and the ugly."

She had a point.

"Flynn?" I queried. "Two on one okay with you?"

He raised his eyebrows. "My blue diamond, you know that's one of my specialties."

Any more innuendos from him and I'd be shoving one of these yantoks so far up his ass, he'd shoot a laser beam out of his mouth.

"Don't bruise her face," Pinky said. "She needs to look pretty for the gala."

Flynn stopped short. "You're going?"

"I was invited."

Flynn looked back at Pinky. "I thought the gala was for participants only."

"And invited guests," Pinky said.

"Which is me." I tried not to gloat. Really, I did.

"Don't you need a date?" he asked.

"Why?" I gave him a sultry smile. "Are you offering?"

He swore under his breath. "You know I can't do that."

"Good, because Reed is my date." Officially, we were attending the gala together, but it was purely for professional reasons. I didn't need Flynn to know that, though.

"Wait, you're taking
him
to the gala?" Flynn asked.

"Technically, he's taking me."

"Why?" Flynn practically sputtered. "Why would you agree to it?"

"Because I need backup." And, truthfully, I needed a different kind of backup than the kind Flynn could give me. Where Flynn was hard edges and below the belt, Captain Angel Face was diplomatic and above board. Either one could deal you a deathblow if the situation required it, but I needed more than lethal skills at this gala. I needed finesse. Reed was half angel, half human, and determined to serve and protect humanity. Flynn was all djinn and determined to serve and protect himself.

"And I'm not good enough?" he asked, visibly hurt. "I've been training with you for months. I was good enough for that." He sidled up to me, his breath hot on my neck. "And I was good enough for quite a few other things too, if memory serves."

I heaved an exasperated sigh. "This is not about you and me. In fact, nothing that's happened since we broke up has been about you and me. Got it?"

He didn't seem mollified. "Who's hosting?"

"It's the Enclave's turn this year." The different supernatural groups took turns hosting the pre-games gala. It was a huge expense because of the number of attendees as well as the level of security involved. No insurance company would touch it because of the high risk of injury and death. Carnage rarely happened, though. If they were going to win a fight, they were going to do it at the big event in front of thousands of witnesses. Egos were not in short supply.

"Where is it?"

"The Marriott Downtown," Pinky said. "It'll be wrapped up tight with protective spells. No one's getting in without an official invitation. Oscar has an entire team devoted to security."

I didn't doubt it. Oscar's head was on the chopping block if the evening went south. He was likely under orders from his bosses in the Enclave to show everyone what a tight ship he ran in the Mid-Atlantic Colony.

"Enough stalling, Flynn," I said. "Let's go."

His skin began to pulse and his body contorted, stretching taller and longer. His neck thickened and large, curved horns appeared. The dark brown coat was mangy, different from his bear form. The shape was different, too. It didn't happen often, but once in a while, Flynn managed to surprise me.

Despite my efforts to show no fear, my eyes widened. It was hard to act nonchalant with a two-thousand-pound buffalo snorting in your direction. I could have taken him down easily if I had access to my djinn powers, but we all knew I didn't. We all knew the only hope I had of coming out on top were the two glow sticks in my possession.

I stood in a ready position, feet apart and the yantoks firm in my hands.

Buffalo Flynn bowed his head and I waited for him to charge.

The second his hoof moved, Pinky used her magic to wrap us in a protective bubble. Flynn rammed his head into the side, but the bubble remained intact.

"I want to play with my yantoks," I complained.

"If you penetrate the barrier, the magic won't hold," Pinky said.

"So we hide in here until he gets bored and wanders away?" That was unlikely to happen. Flynn was as stubborn as anyone competing in the games.

Pinky scrunched up her nose in concentration. "I'll have to work on that."

"You need a bubble that protects the people inside it while still being able to attack your opponent," I said and she nodded. "Deflate the bubble."

Pinky looked at me like I was nuts. She wouldn't be wrong.

I held the yantoks at my sides. "Now."

The bubble disappeared and Buffalo Flynn charged. Just before he reached me, I dropped flat on the floor and tucked my arms and legs in as close to my body as possible so his hooves didn't trample me. He wouldn't be able to stop or change direction now. He had too much momentum.

As his thick, hairy body rode over me, I whispered, "Stun." I jammed the glowing sticks into his underbelly and he toppled forward, the giant body seizing and sizzling. The pain must have been too much because he reverted to his human form almost immediately.

He remained still for a moment with his eyes closed.

"They're pretty good, huh?" I asked.

He opened one eye and focused on me. "You know I like it rough."

I twirled the yantoks. "Great. So can we go again? This is fun. Maybe I can get Pinky to put spells on all my weapons."

"Sure," Pinky said, pleased that I was pleased.

Flynn dragged himself to his feet, his body bloody and bruised. "Can you get my phone? I need to call my bookie first."

"Joey Eagle?" I repeated. "Why is that important right now?"

"I need to switch my bet." He grinned at Pinky. "My money's on her now."

P
reparing
for the gala was like preparing for battle. Our dresses were our protective clothing. Our makeup was our war paint. Our weapons were...our weapons.

Farah zipped up the back of my dress and whistled. "It's a good thing Flynn isn't your date tonight. I don't think your dress would make it past the first song."

"Reed's not really my date, either," I objected. "He's just accompanying me so we can sniff around for Thompson. It's strictly professional."

She smiled. "Sure it is. Listen, say the word and I'll relinquish all drooling rights to you."

"Keep the saliva flowing," I told her, studying myself in the full-length dressing room mirror. Although the blue dress had been nice and presentable until it got dragged through the cemetery at the Woodlands, it had been a long time since I'd worn a beautiful, expensive dress. I hated how much I missed it.

"I have no interest in Captain Tenderheart," I continued, "nor do I think he has any interest in me. He's a Naphil, remember?"

"I don't know," Farah mused. "He gets this little twinkle in his dreamy eyes when he talks to you."

I tore my gaze away from my reflection long enough to glare at her. "He does not."

"You're too busy glaring at him with that same expression to notice." She gestured to my eyes and frowned.

"There is no twinkle," I insisted. "It's probably pity."

"If you say so." She circled me, searching for possible improvements. "Hair up or down?"

"In this heat? Definitely up."

She attempted to reach my hair and we both laughed. With our height difference, there was no way she'd be able to fix my hair while I was standing. She gestured to the red velvet chair.

"I appreciate your help with this," I said. It was difficult not to just snap my fingers and be ready. I wasn't used to
doing
.

"Hey, it benefits me, too. I get to dress up and ogle hot guys in tuxedos. Maybe even win a prize before the night ends." She wiggled her eyebrows.

I'd managed to convince Oscar to issue invitations to Farah and Mix. Between X-caliber, the Ghuls, and the sheer number of supernaturals in one room, there were too many angles for Reed and I to cover alone.

"It's not all fun and games," I reminded her. "We have a job to do."

"A job that involves a little fun and games," she replied, pulling a brush through my tangled mess of wavy hair. "French twist?"

"Why not?"

I stood in front of the mirror to gauge the full effect. It was a beautiful dress, courtesy of Lilith, one of Farah's best customers. Lilith owned one of the most expensive boutiques in the city called La Femme. When Farah told her we needed dresses for the gala, she was only too happy to pull together a rack of options. Farah had chosen her dress in about five minutes flat. It was typical Farah—an eye-catching gold dress that emphasized her boobs, butt, and tiny waist. My search lasted an hour with five costume changes. Farah was ready to shift into her fox form and bite me. In the end, I chose a shimmering green dress that complemented my hair and complexion.

"This dress was made for that body," Farah said, admiring my reflection, and I had to agree. It was a far cry from the Mets T-shirt and gray sweatpants I'd shown up in months ago. This look was much more me. The neckline was tastefully plunging. Enough exposed skin to entice interest but not enough to demand it. Even the slit up the thigh was more sophisticated than slutty.

"Alyse, you're going to need a taser to keep the males away."

"Don't need a taser," I said. "I'll have my lightsabers."

"My turn to transform." Farah stepped inside the dressing room. "This is so much fun. It reminds me of the old days. Getting ready before a big night out. Of course, you took about ten seconds."

"Gave me plenty of time to help you," I said. "What time will Mix be here?"

"Probably when he finishes whatever level he's on," Farah said. Mix was a video game fanatic. Even the prospect of females in clingy dresses wasn't enough to hurry him away from the console.

I leaned against the wall. "How do you think he's doing? Does he talk about Paulette at all?"

"Not to me. I'm sure he's coping in his own way, hence the increase in game playing."

BOOK: Death Match (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 2)
2.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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