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  DROWN ANOTHER DAY

  (Book Four of the Secret Magent series)

  by F. A. Bentley

  Kindle Edition / Copyright April 2018 F. A. Bentley

  Cover Art by Cormar Covers

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork is prohibited without the express written consent of the author.

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents occurring herein are solely the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed solely for the reader’s personal enjoyment. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the place it was purchased from and buy your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of F. A.Bentley and other e-authors everywhere.

  When an easy mission goes wrong in record time, Charles Locke, sorcerous secret agent, becomes a hunted man as the line between friend and foe blurs. Stalked through the snowy streets of Venice by Supernaturals, forced to face seduction, assassins, and imminent betrayal alike, Charles must unravel a tangled web of lies and deceit before he reaches his wit’s end. A simple job, despite the intrigue: Keep your head above the water.

  Or drown.

  This is the fourth volume in the Secret Magent series; a novel.

  Contents

  DROWN ANOTHER DAY

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Another loss, Mr. Locke. You know what that means,” said the woman, a cold-blooded smile widening on her lips. “Strip.”

  I sighed, rose up from my luxurious seat at the private poker table, and removed my pants. I didn’t have a choice.

  “Oh my goodness,” she purred, pausing a moment to take me in. “Not just tall but fit too. Rock hard abs. Sculpted muscles. Chiseled back. Mm. Not exactly the look of a Greek God, pardon the expression, but there’s something certainly enticing about your… ensemble.”

  Silence reigned in the candlelit study. Luxurious busts and gilded columns lined the sides. A window looking out onto the veranda was discreetly concealed behind royal purple drapes. The large wooden door at the front of the room was gilded with embossed golden decorations that screamed high society. Of course, it was also locked. Just me and her there. Dangerous.

  Just not why you might imagine.

  “Stheno, deal the next hand,” I demanded, making sure to keep my head turned away from her.

  “Where are you looking, Charles? I’m right over here,” she said, sounding slightly offended.

  Stheno was a woman that was hard to look at. Not because she was ugly, mind you. Quite the contrary, she was gorgeous. The reason I wasn’t looking at her was because I didn’t want to die horribly.

  After all, Stheno was a Gorgon. Snakes for hair. Long serpentine body. She had sharp, surely venomous fangs hidden behind full red lips, and of course, a pair of breasts barely kept in check by a beleaguered bra and the thin cloth that made for her party dress.

  “Are you stalling?” I asked her.

  I caught a shadow of a smirk out of the corner of my eye, her serpentine hair coiling and uncoiling in barely controlled excitement. “So impatient, Mr. Locke. Here.”

  Strip poker was the name of the game. What other card games does one play in the private comfort of a stunning woman’s villa?

  No, not stunning. Petrifying.

  I licked my lips as I gave my cards a long hard look. A good hand for once. I suppose there’s only so much misfortune that can be heaped on me in one sitting, after all. I thought I saw Stheno grin at her own hand too.

  “It’s the eyes. I think,” Stheno suddenly spoke. “Dark, gloomy, but full of stubborn life. It reminds me of my last strip poker partner.”

  “Last partner? Let me guess, he took a peek at you?” I asked.

  The snake haired Gorgon let out a wistful sigh. “He got married.”

  “Tragic.”

  “It is! But things are looking up for me now that I’ve found you. I think I have a good hand, Mr. Locke. I’m so confident actually, that I’ll raise you your mission statement. Want to exchange any?”

  I’ve had a lot of troublesome contacts to deal with in my day, but I’ve never had one insist I win my information from them. When you’re a warlock working for Nine Towers, playing Gorgons in strip poker for information regarding my actual mission is why I get hazard pay.

  Despite her bravado, I sensed uncertainty in her. It was now or never. A full frontal assault.

  “I’ll keep my hand, Stheno. In fact, I’d like to go all in.”

  If I were looking at her face, I’m sure she’d have perked an eyebrow at that. “All in? Oh goodness. All you have is your underwear and a sock, Mr. Locke, whereas I haven’t lost a single thing. My dress, my silky red bra containing my large breasts, my gloves, my--”

  “If you win this hand, I’ll look you in the eye. I’ll even pose.”

  Supposedly, the act of turning people into stone for Gorgons was a thrill rivaling that of the best sex of your life. The better looking the guy, the greater the thrill. That’s why way back in the day the Gorgons would wait around for handsome Greek heroes to prey on.

  However, Stheno was about to bite off more than she could chew.

  “Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse, Mr. Locke. Call.”

  In a flash of movement, the luscious Gorgon laid her cards on the table, her long black fingernails tapping the tip of the cards impatiently as I drew in a breath.

  “Three queens, pair of tens, darling” she hissed.

  I shook my head, and laid my own hand on the table.

  Three kings and the other pair of tens. My win. Barely. My heart was beating inside my chest like a drum from my narrow victory. A bit less luck and I’d have been on exhibit in Stheno’s collection of equally ‘life-like’ statues.

  “You were holding back on me,” Stheno said, surprise and displeasure in her voice. “Playing the amateur all this time til I whittle you down to your boxers. Then you make an offer I
can’t refuse and then play rough? How cold.”

  Stone cold.

  I shook my head. “I’d have played along longer if I could, but I need my mission.”

  The Gorgon sighed, her snake headed coif licking at the air. Uncoiling her serpentine lower body, she slithered over to a bureau hidden beneath some papers, unlocked it with a key and got a long piece of silk from within.

  “Put this on, that way you don’t have to keep pretending there’s something interesting happening in the opposite direction I’m standing in,” Stheno said, tossing me what I quickly realized was a blindfold, before turning around.

  “I have a better idea,” I said.

  “Oh?”

  “Don’t move a muscle,” I commanded.

  To my surprise, the Gorgon obeyed. If she wanted forward, commandeering men she’d certainly come to the right place. Calmly, I looped the blindfold over top of Stheno’s lethal eyes, and tied it tight.

  It was only a direct look at the Gorgon’s eyes that would spell certain doom for me. Besides, she owed me more than just my mission statement after that last hand.

  Stheno’s blindfolded head followed the sound of my footsteps as I sat back down in the lavish chair and turned it around to fully face her.

  “Now then, Ms. Gorgon. Why don’t you tell me what Nine Towers wants me to do here in Italy. And while you’re at it?” I said. “Strip.”

  Chapter 2

  Smooth feminine hands stretched upwards, intertwining between serpentine hair as Stheno let out a sigh of satisfaction. It seemed as though she took great pleasure in showing off her tight body to me.

  “Well, Charles Locke, where to begin?” she asked, her hands trailing down to her chest.

  “Might I recommend starting at the beginning?” I said.

  The Gorgon grinned.

  “It was the Oracle that came to me. Of course they would. We have history, you know.” Stheno said, undoing the top of her dress, letting the fabric fall to reveal a black lace bra.

  Nine Towers had no shortage of departments operating within it. And specialization was both varied and narrow. Stheno was being cute by calling them Oracles. What she meant to say was agents from the Divination department told her what she needed to inform me about.

  Warlocks very rarely have their orders given to them directly. It’s not that the Archmages don’t trust people like me. It’s more that if I fail and my body shows up somewhere, they can claim that I’m not one of theirs.

  That or the fact that they can’t be bothered dealing with us filthy warlocks.

  “To think,” Stheno carried on, resting a hand upon her shoulder tauntingly, playing with the strap that held her bra up. “That those palm readers from Delphi would still be around today. Of course I couldn’t refuse them a little favor.”

  “Why don’t you cut to the chase?” I asked.

  Stheno tsked. “So impatient. If you must know, your entire mission can be summed up into a single word.”

  “And that would be?” I asked.

  Old fashioned girls sure liked beating around the bush.

  Stheno licked her lips. A flick of her finger undid a fastener, letting the rest of her dress fall into a pile. “Americans,” she said.

  “Americans?” I echoed.

  I must have sounded unamused, because Stheno chuckled lightly at my response. “Don’t perk your eyebrow like that, Mr. Locke.”

  If I were a perfectly normal, vanilla, no milk or sugar added to my coffee Human, I would have a much higher interest in a mission involving keeping an eye on foreign powers.

  Here’s the thing though. I’m a warlock. A warlock specialized in solving problems physically, if you catch my drift. What the hell was Nine Towers thinking, setting me up to baby sit some Yankees?

  “Is that the tempo of your heart beat I hear thrumming through my ears, Mr. Locke? You can be upset at Nine Towers all you want, just remember not to shoot the messenger,” Stheno said.

  From the moment the word tempo left her lips, Stheno began swinging her hips hypnotically from side to side. The tight press of lingerie onto scaled, swinging hips reminded me of rattle snakes and how they snare their prey.

  “Why would I be upset?” I asked. Better to keep my cool for now. “What are the details? Why are these Americans here? What are they doing?”

  Click. Stheno undid the back of her bra. Her modesty now hung on by a string. I crossed my legs strategically.

  “The Sixth Fleet is here to participate in war games and to keep an eye on the east end of the Mediterranean. That’s the official reason. However, your Oracle seems to think that this is a convenient fib, and that they’re actually here for slightly… different purposes.”

  I couldn’t put a finger on it, but I felt in my gut that Divination didn’t send me here on a wild goose chase. As mistreated as warlocks were in my profession, often ending up as throw away thugs, I was very near the top of the high score board. They wouldn’t waste me on something stupid. There was real trouble brewing. I just couldn’t see it. Yet.

  “The Sixth. When you say fleet, just how big a fleet are we talking here?” I asked.

  Stheno chuckled anew, slithering past my chair and swinging a hip in my direction to playfully bump me. “It’s an American fleet, Mr. Locke. Surely their origin is enough of a hint as to how big the fleet is. Their acting flagship, I hear, is the USS Massachusetts.”

  Chapter 3

  I let out a low whistle. “A carrier? Hot damn. Where are they parking their asses?”

  “Right outside Venice,” she said, parking her own ass in my lap.

  “So then,” I said, her serpentine hair inches from my face, “I’m to find the Sixth Fleet. Quietly observe them as long as they are docked in Venice, and should anything Supernatural happen, I am to--”

  “Wrap your hands around it,” Stheno said. “And squeeze tight.”

  “Anything that comes up?” I asked.

  Stheno paused in momentary contemplation. A sharp nailed finger tapped her chin. “Only if there’s trouble. I believe the contact told me this was a ‘peace-keeping’ mission. Interpret that as you will, Charles.”

  “Refreshingly open ended,” I muttered.

  “Oh? Do they make you spank naughty boys and girls normally?”

  “Renegades. Interlopers. Manipulators. Rogue Supernaturals. And it was less spank and more kill with extreme prejudice.”

  Stheno drew in a deep ragged breath. “Music to my ears. I love dangerous men. Charles, I have a proposition.”

  Stheno’s hip’s swung weightily as she rose up from my lap over to an envelope lying among a her desk’s papers. Her eyes peeked from behind the blindfold to make sure it was the one she wanted, before returning to me.

  “Two tickets to Venice,” she said, before placing them between her breasts. “On me.”

  Literally.

  It’s not easy resisting the charms of a Gorgon. A lesser man would have already been all over Stheno, and probably made rock hard by her petrifying gaze. Thankfully, I’m not just a dead beat womanizer.

  I’m a professional dead beat womanizer.

  “Two tickets?” I asked, a coy grin on my face.

  Stheno chuckled. “Of course two. I’m coming with you.”

  A sound not unlike violin strings snapping filled my ears. I was reminded, quite against my will, of a dark, abyssal cavern. Leering Mayan sculptures all around. A woman, snake scaled, much like Stheno, stood in the center of an altar, magic lacing her fingertips. The next moment, a sword thrust into her chest.

  Itabimori. It was my fault. If only I’d--

  I snatched the tickets from Stheno’s cleavage and promptly tore them in half.

  “Charles? What are--”

  “The last woman that came with me on one of my missions is dead. I buried her myself. It was my fault. Because I was too stupid to realize how weak I really am. And too proud to tell her to stay safe.”

  Stheno grit her teeth in anger. “Do you take me for some idiot tag
-along that can’t--”

  “I take you for an obliging and beautiful woman, Stheno. If you were to die under my watch I’d never be able to forgive myself,” I replied. “Never.”

  Stheno crushed her delicate hand into a fist, but before she could retort, I’d grabbed her shoulders in my hands. I squeezed them hard.

  “I am counting on you to keep an eye on the bigger picture for me. You know my number. Use it. I work best alone anyways.”

  Almost alone I mentally corrected.

  “Just what kind of woman do you take me for?” Stheno asked. “I’m not going to let a Mortal man smooth talk me just like--”

  I pressed my lips to hers, cutting her off completely. Sharp surely venomous fangs nipped dangerously at my lips, but in the end, the Gorgon decided not to turn our make out session into the kiss of death.

  “I have a flight to catch,” I told her.

  Stheno hesitated, before sighing and shrugging her shoulders. “Why are all the men I’m drawn to a pain in my read end? You have a real knack for ruining plans, don’t you, Mr. Locke?”

  “We’ll play another round of strip poker next time,” I said.

  The Gorgon smiled. “I will hold you to that, Mr. Locke.”