Blood Hunt (Secret Magent Book 3) Read online

He looked scrawny, but he hit like a circus strongman. He should skip leg day more often.

  The air rushed out of my lungs, but as I crumpled, Itabimori swung her arms in a wide arc, a legion of vines leaping onto the Nagual and embracing him tight. The snake woman steadied me and turned to Narani.

  “Narani, shadow step!” she shouted.

  “I guess.” Narani’s paw clapped down on my shoulder as a dreadful weightlessness suddenly overcoming me. Despite the unclouded sun, the world around me darkened, and in the space of an instant, the sand beneath by feet was replaced with asphalt.

  “Looks like we got away. Not that anything good will ever last long,” Narani said.

  “Shadow magic as well? You two are full of surprises,” I wheezed, still gasping for breath.

  “Those vines won’t last even a minute. Split up and run?” Itabimori asked.

  “Split and run,” I agreed. “Go!”

  Chapter 9

  Narani dashed left, Itabimori rushed right, and I ran past a parking lot and onto the main street like a bat out of Hell.

  The Nagual had a mask on. That meant that he was not in a position to brazenly walk the streets and do as he pleased. Tabi and Narani probably thought the same thing. By splitting up, we’d stand a better chance of having the Nagual lose our trail.

  Chase three rabbits through the woods and you’ll not catch a single one of them.

  Horns honked as I crossed over the two lane road ahead and made it to the apartment blocks on the other side. Labyrinthine alleys, parking lots filled with cars, and people going about their average lives to and fro made for an ideal means to escape my hunter.

  Another alley populated by an empty dumpster on my left. I felt the thrill of the chase leave me as I leaned against the wall to catch my breath. Looks like all that track and field I did finally paid off.

  My crap luck, however, refused to let me catch a break. Fun fact: Body mages aren’t just scrawny pencil necks who can selectively beef up their arms for a split second of giant like strength. There were tricks and nuances to the art as well. Like ,say, pumping the magic into your legs to make you faster than a BMW.

  The Nagual must have used just such a trick to catch up to me, because I found him suddenly blocking my way out of the far end of the alley.

  Shit. Drawing my wand I willed a blade of hard arcana to sprout from the tip. “Fine, be that way. I prefer fight over flight anyways,” I said. “Let’s end this, Nagual.”

  “That confidence. I’ll make you regret it,” the Nagual said, his mouth cracking into a gleeful grin.

  The Nagual closed the distance between us with a slow deliberate gait until the last few steps. In the blink of an eye, he went from being five feet away from being five inches away from me. It was only due to my sharp instincts that I narrowly avoided an overhead bash that crushed the dumpster behind me like a pop can. And it was all I could do but bodily throw myself to the side as fresh claws shot from his fingertips to punch holes into my chest. A near miss. The hardened bricks of the alley wall were not so fortunate.

  Forcing myself up to a knee, I lashed out with my sword, aiming at center mass. I cut nothing but air, the Nagual long gone out of my range by the time my swing ought to have connected. When he charged next, I thrust the blade forth like a rapier, banking on the monster’s own momentum being enough to impale him.

  Instead of being dissuaded, the Nagual slammed his palm onto the tip of the blade and painfully caught it as it pierced his hand. A dribble of blood wound down the blade and down my wrist.

  Goddammit. Not just body parts, but instincts too? He didn’t even cringe as my wand-sword pierced the palm of his hand. He must have willed away the pain in his hand and even kept most of his blood from pouring out. This guy was a pro.

  With his free hand, the Nagual caught my throat nonchalantly and lifted me into the air like I weighed nothing.Slowly, he began to squeeze. I choked against his grip, struggling helplessly against the magically enhanced strength the Nagual had poured into his limb.

  Tighter. Tighter still. My vision blurred, my neck neared it’s breaking point. I thought my spine was going to snap, but suddenly the Nagual’s grip weakened. He dropped me to the ground in a heap. Eyes straining to the far end of the alley, the Nagual’s crooked legs and too long toes shuffled and paced. Finally shrugging, he let out a raspy hyena’s laugh.

  “What a nuisance. But I suppose such is to be expected from the contestants. I leave you in capable hands, Charles Locke. After all, it does not need to be my hand that deals the killing blow. Give my regards to your… saviors.”

  I blinked blurry eyes and the Nagual was gone. His words, however, remained. Contestants? Killing blow? Not that it mattered. All I cared about was the sound of footsteps approaching. I was saved. But by who?

  “I owe you. You really saved my life,” I managed, as I felt consciousness ebb.

  Before I closed my eyes, I caught sight of three men in eerie animal pelts standing over me. The one at the head of the troupe stooped down and offered me a pitiless smile.

  “Saved your life? That’s just counting your eggs before they hatch, isn’t it? He’ll make a fine sacrifice. Put him with the others.”

  It was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

  Chapter 10

  I sat up in my bed, the tail end of a yelp fleeing my throat. The sight of vaguely Human outlines, garbed in fire, was fresh in my mind. Same dream; same nightmare. The outlines would dance around almost comically as fire engulfed them, and then?

  They’d all fall down. Kindling.

  “Two nights in a row. Makes you wanna read Gothics doesn’t it?” asked ‘Miss Freida’.

  “Go to Hell,” I spat back, with all the malice a boy of sixteen years could muster.

  “You’re going to break my heart if you keep this up, I can feel it cracking as you snark!” the she-devil replied.

  It had been months since it happened. Since my magic awakened. Since I killed those people. Even if they were trying to kill me too, it was still murder. Lots of murder. The police never came to throw me in jail though. What I got instead of jail time however, was way worse.

  I stared at her in the dark of my huge, hollow bedroom. She had her glasses on and was busy sitting in the chair next to my bed side table reading. The molten yellow of her eyes shone like night lights. Sometimes I’d see them in my dreams too. Her eyes like twin moons leering at me from high above. Just watching.

  It made me shudder from head to toe. Horrifying.

  “Don’t you monsters sleep?” I demanded.

  “Nope. No rest for the wicked, right?” came her reply.

  “Well I’m just as big a monster as you, so I’m not tired either.”

  My very own demonic governess, under the guise of ‘Miss Freida’. She snapped her book shut hard and fast enough to make me flinch. Her eyes came to rest on me as an easy smile widened on her lips.

  “Care for a midnight stroll then, Charlie?” she asked.

  I glared at her in suspicion before I got out of my cold bed and opened the bedroom door. If she wanted to devour my soul she could do it any damn time she wanted to. She was toying with me at this point. I was sure of it.

  As I stomped down the halls, she-devil in tow, an idea formed in my mind.

  “So, Lisistrathiel. You’re in charge of my education, right?” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t call what you do during my lessons learning Charlie,” Lis replied with a soft laugh. “But yes.”

  I grinned wide. “That means you have to answer any questions I ask. Even if you don’t want to, right? It’s your job. You are bound to it. It’s a deal.”

  Jagged eyebrows rose in surprise, her smile widened the tiniest bit. “Oh no,” Lis gasped dramatically. “You’ve found a weakness to exploit? In me? Whatever shall I do?”

  “Sarcasm won’t save you. Answer me, Devil, how do I get out of this?” I demanded. “Tell me how I stop the nightmares.”

  “You already know how
to, Charlie. Undo your sin. Save a couple of lives. Even things out. As easy as winning fiddle matches against country boys,” Lis replied.

  I shook my head. “Wrong.”

  The Devil’s eyes shone with something I couldn’t quite recognize. The patter of rain striking the long hall’s glass windows filled the void of silence.

  “Oh. Am I?” she asked at length.

  “I won’t make it that easy to fool me, Lisistrathiel. I’m damned. I have my own Mephistopheles for God’s sake. And the worst part? If I do try to do good in the world, God isn’t going to give me credit for it.”

  “He won’t?” the Devil asked, perking a jagged eyebrow.

  “I wouldn’t be doing good for the sake of good. Doing good for selfish reasons like saving my own butt is just as bad as not doing anything at all. It’s pointless. When I get up to Saint Peter and tell him how I saved all these lives, you know what he’s going to tell me?”

  “What’s he gonna tell you?”

  “He’s gonna be all ‘yeah but you saved all these lives just cause you’re afraid of going to Hell’. I’m not really trying to save lives. I’m only really trying to save my own damn skin. And that makes me just as big as monster as I ever was.”

  Lisistrathiel gave me a round of applause. “That’s some really advanced logic for a sixteen year old. And well thought out too.”

  “Save the compliments. How do I get out of it? You know all that there is about sinning right? Is there even a way? What’s the point of trying if I’ll only ever be screwed out of the good deeds I’ve earned?” I asked.

  Instead of a response, the Devil ducked into the mansion’s gymnasium, beckoning me to follow. I did. Lights were turned on, mats were brought out, and Lisistrathiel returned from the back with a pair of practice rapiers and a single helmet.

  The helmet was for me.

  “I think,” she began. “The problem lies with your perspective. En garde.”

  “On guard,” I replied, taking the rapier and lowering into a defensive stance.

  “You’re looking at this from a religious perspective,” she said, rushing me hard and fast. “That’s the issue.”

  “What other perspective is there?” I asked, just as she riposted my blade and bonked me on the head with her practice sword.

  “You tell me. En garde.”

  “On,” I shouted back, narrowly avoiding a thrust aimed to skewer my head. “You told me the three corners of argumentation are logics, ethics and emotions. If this is the emotional point of view, because I feel that nothing will ever fix the problem then I have to try one of the oth-- Ow!”

  “You need a chest guard, wuss bag?” Lis taunted, the tip of her rapier poking my rib cage. “You’re right, by the by. When faith fails you and you’re in a darned if you do, darned if you don’t scenario, then all you have left is thinking things through logically.”

  I frowned at her. “That doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

  “Accusing me of sophistry?” Lis gasped. “Unforgivable. En garde, knave.”

  “On guard. It’s true though,” I replied. “What’s the point of logically thinking things out if I’m screwed either way? I might as well spend the rest of my life doing whatever wicked things I want since I’m already beyond salvation. How’s that for logical?”

  Narrowly avoiding my stab, Lis ducked beneath my blow and tapped her blade on the bottom of my chin. “A lame excuse. Let’s look at the brass tacks. Say you do seek redemption, and do enough good to equal a get out of jail free card. If you go up to the top floor and meet Pete at the pearly gates, and he tells you that God does forgive these sins despite you doing good deeds selfishly, you’ll be glad you did good anyways, right?”

  There was no beating her at dueling. You just manage to last another second longer or so with each passing week. It was beyond frustrating.

  “Sure,” I replied. “But if I don’t then it’s a waste of time. It’s a flip of the coin. En garde?”

  “Wrong. En garde,” Lis said. “If you do nice things and still end up screwed up top, then at the very least you can say you did your best to even things out. And even if there is no ‘eternal reward’, then at least you made a positive impact on the world.”

  “So what, I’m supposed to just try sight unseen?” I demanded, before discovering her blade pressing against my chest.

  “People who do good expecting a big pay out at the end aren’t actually very good people, Charlie. It’s only logical. If you do good for the sake of good like a superhero, then you’ll never lose out. If you don’t though, you’re either gonna be remembered as a jerk, or be darned for doing wrong, and then darned some more for using that as an excuse for doing even more wrong.”

  “Like you?” I demanded, throwing my practice rapier aside.

  “Do you see my point?” Lis insisted, eyes searing into me, blade still poised above my heart.

  I had to avert my gaze. She only got this intense whenever she thought she was talking about something important. “It makes sense, I guess. Sort of.”

  “Good. So? What will you do with this knowledge you practically extorted out of me?” Lisistrathiel asked.

  “Obviously,” I began, reaching the door. “I’ll find a way to save lives. The only question that remains is how, but I can figure that out on my own. Thanks for the easy advice, Devil, and goodnight.”

  I flipped the lights of the gymnasium off. Two molten bronze eyes stared after me from within.

  “You’re welcome, Charles Montgomery Locke.”

  Chapter 11

  The worst feeling in the world is opening your eyes only to find that you can’t see anything at all. Either that or Lis telling you she ‘accidentally’ maxed out your credit card buying gourmet ice cream.

  I couldn’t move my hands and I couldn’t feel the ground beneath my feet. Wherever I was, I was dangling, and probably at someone’s mercy.Whispers pierced the empty abyss. Chanting, both low and primal, echoed in my ears.

  Man, I was on vacation twelve hours ago without a care in the world. I bit back a sigh. A glaring light suddenly flashed, forcing me to squint and avert my gaze.

  “Finally awake are you? Good. That’s wonderful,” spoke a voice, filled with joy.

  “To whom do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, sarcasm dripping off my tongue like venom.

  “Antonio Tlatani,” the man greeted me cheerfully. “Welcome to my house, friend. I hope you’ll stay a while and grace us with your company.”

  “House? That’s a funny way to pronounce dungeon, Antonio,” I retorted.

  “Come come, why can’t we be civil about this? We’re all human beings here. Aren’t we? For now,” Antionio replied, trying to keep from laughing.

  I perked an eyebrow. I took the bait. “For now?”

  “Oh no, as much it makes my heart ache, I must insist that the only questions that are answered are my own, Mr…”

  “Mr. If you let me go right now I won’t have to kill you,” I replied calmly.

  To be fair, I’d been very patient with this Antonio asshole.

  The bright light shining on me cut out, and another turned on from high overhead. Dungeon was an excellent term for where I found myself. The walls looked derelict, and the iron flooring was slick with red rust. I was in a warehouse basement or an abandoned hostel if I had to guess.

  Of course, it was hard to see the room for all the Halloween partygoers that were crowding it. Dozens of people populated the room, practically shoulder to shoulder. Without exception they were all dressed up in varying animal pelts.

  “I don’t think you understand the position you’re in, friend,” spoke Tlatani, in the epicenter of the crowd.

  “My position is that I’m suspended over top of what appears to be a costume party. Judging by the cell phones and the smell of drugs, I’d say half of you aren’t a day over twenty.”

  Sometimes it’s a bad thing to be so perceptive. My comment must have struck a chord with Antonio, because in a fit of rage he grabbed
the baseball bat one of his friends had in hand and slammed it against my stomach as hard as he could.

  It would have been excruciating if the man had thought to hit the gym once in a blue moon.

  “Who are you, and why did the Smoking Mirror seek to take your life?” Antonio asked, his voice calm and friendly once more.

  Smoking Mirror?

  “I’m just a guy trying to enjoy his vacation. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied.

  Mr. Tlatani was not amused. He struck me twice more with the bat. Weaker than the first time. Hadn’t he ever heard that chicks dig bruises? He was practically doing me a favor.

  “Smoking Mirror. The Nagual as these Mayans call him. What is your relation to him?”

  I blinked in surprise. What the Mayans called him? “If I had to guess,” I spoke up. “You’re all from Mexico. A bunch of kids playing at Aztec spirituality.”

  Tlatani took a step back, surprise clear on his face. The crowd fell to whispers and uncertainty. Bullseye.

  “We have the power of the Gods at our fingertips, and you call us kids? We know what you are, magician,” Antonio said, drawing my wand from his belt and pushing the tip into my chin. “And we know about the Magi as well. Those decadent cowards and bygone beasts think they have Xibalba in the bag, but it will be us that take its power for our own.”

  My judgment was a bit hasty. It seems that word of Xibalba had spread far and wide in a short period of time. How, I don’t know, but all these small timers coming out to make a play meant all the more trouble for me.

  “So, when are you letting me go?” I asked. No point in letting them off without salting their wounds a bit, right?

  Antonio practically laughed his head off. “Actually, you’re going to play a very important part in something much bigger than you, my man. You’re going to be the ritual feast when the sleeper awakes.”

  What is it about me that screams ‘please sacrifice me at your blasphemous altar’? This was not the first time I’ve had the seat of honor for just such ritual. And I doubt it’ll be the last.