Chapter 1 #2
“You always do this,” Harry snapped. “Make a joke of everything. This is no joke. You’re freelancing while working for the CCC, and that won’t stand.
Give us the critter, and we’ll say no more about it.
” He held out his shovel-like hands, as if he expected me to simply hand over the bounty that I’d spent three days trawling through sewers to find.
“It’s a good thing you’re nice to look at, Harry, because you’re denser than smog.”
“Huh?” He looked to Trent for an explanation.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I know you’re not going to take the critter back to the CCC.
You’re working freelance for Carlisle. I know what critters he’s been after, and I know you two tossers haven’t the tracking or trapping skills to nab any of them on your own.
If you think I’m going to let you steal from me, then you’re not only dense, you’re also delusional. ”
Trent stepped forward, pulling himself to his full six-two height and puffing out his chest. “There are two options for you here. Give us the trap and walk away, or we beat you to a pulp and take it from you.”
“I don’t want to go with them. Please.”
I ignored the critter, tapping my chin and feigning consideration of their proposal. “I think I’ll go with the third option.”
“There is no third option,” Harry said, brows low in confusion.
“Shut up, H,” Trent snapped. “She’s being a smartass.” He looked down his nose at me. “Go on then. What’s the third option?”
I carefully set down the trap and dipped my gloved hands into my pocket, pulling out the case that housed my knuckle dusters. “I think I’m gonna have to kick both your asses.”
They exchanged glances, then burst out laughing.
I took the opportunity to bridge the distance between us and punch Harry in the face.
His head whipped back, but he held his ground, blinking rapidly against the tears that filled his eyes before slowly reaching up to touch his bloody nose—blood that was already tinged blue by the toxin coating my knuckle dusters.
Thumb blades would have been a better choice, but I’d used them a couple of weeks ago and hadn’t had a chance to coat them again.
“Fuck!” Trent jumped back to avoid a blow, his hands coming up to fend me off.
“Wha….” Harry fell over with a thud.
The paralysis would wear off eventually.
Trent backed up, fumbling in his overall pocket, presumably for the standard issue CCC weapon.
“What’s happening?”
I rushed him, not wanting to give him a chance to pull the taser free.
The magitech weapon delivered enough of a shock to take down not just the hardiest critter, but humans too.
He dodged so that my blow glanced off his shoulder.
I spun around and tackled him, knocking the taser from his grasp.
It clattered across the ground, skidding out of reach as we grappled.
Like this, one-on-one, he was stronger than me, could overpower me.
But my mother had taught me that there was nothing wrong with fighting like a girl.
So, I did just that—slipping under his arm to come out at his back, I delivered a sharp punch to his kidneys before kicking the back of his knee.
He went down, and I grabbed him in a sleeper hold, compressing his carotid artery.
He tried to stand, to lift me off my feet and take away my advantage. Like hell would I allow that.
I bit his ear hard enough to draw blood and a strangled squeal before he went limp. His body weight pulled me down, but I held fast, needing to be sure this wasn’t a ploy.
“Hello? Let me out!” The trap rattled.
Long seconds passed in which the muscles in my arms began to seize, and the urge to spit had saliva pooling in my mouth—ugh. I’d bitten his ear. I released my grip a fraction, then, satisfied he wasn’t faking, released him completely.
He lay crumpled on the ground, looking suddenly smaller. I turned my head and spat a few times to get the taste of sweat and blood out of my mouth. Like, seriously? Why were his ears sweaty?
I couldn’t risk him waking up before I’d made it out of the run, so I grabbed his hand and ran the back of my knuckle dusters across his skin, hard enough to scrape and draw blood. Enough for the paralytic to seep into his bloodstream.
The specific neurotoxin was found in Sicut Mors—large mosquito-like bugs found in the western forestlands on the outskirts of Carlston.
Nasty blighters. They stung for the fun of it, and although the bites could make you numb, the toxin wasn’t strong enough to paralyze, not unless combined with several other ingredients.
Bunty knew the combination and had given me a vial as a gift after the last job I worked for him.
The world was a dangerous place when you had no magic to protect you. I’d use whatever I could get my hands on in its place.
* * *
I turned down the narrow alley where Bunty & Co.
was housed. A hole-in-the-wall potion emporium that doubled as a pawn shop, run by Buntington Grom, an independent incantor with nothing but nasty things to say about the Arcanus.
He often spewed vitriol about the system, about how the covens of incantors were hoarding spells, and how sorcerers were power-hungry egomaniacs.
His hatred of magic users almost matched mine.
Almost.
It was the only reason I’d trusted him with the most important job—creating healing tinctures for my mother.
The bell above the door tinkled as I entered the gloomy, slightly smelly shop and wove my way between cluttered shelves and around boxes of stuff, toward the back where Bunty held court.
A whimper emanated from the box. “Please…”
Dammit, when would the toxin wear off? “Bunty!” I picked up my pace, stepping over a wooden stool used to access the top shelves of his hoarder’s paradise and ducking under a dream catcher to get to the counter, where Bunty was hunched over something small and mechanical.
He looked up at me with one huge, magnified eye. “Did you get it?” His impressive gray mustache moved with the words.
I held up the trap. “I got it.”
“Good. Hand it over.” He held out his hands, making grabby motions with his fingers.
The critter began to sob again.
“Tincture first, Bunty. You know the deal.”
He wiggled his jaw, a sign of agitation, and lead bloomed in my belly. “You have made it, right?”
He plucked off his magnifying glasses and fixed dark, accusatory eyes on me. “You didn’t tell me the truth, did ya?”
The leaden sensation in my belly spread. “What truth?”
“You didn’t tell me who you are.”
My mouth went as dry as sand. “Listen, Bunty, I—”
“No.” He held up his hand. “I can’t help you. You’re an Onyx, not a Denton like you claimed. You’ve been lying to everyone.”
Blood rushed to my ears, turning them hot. “How did you find out?”
“A little blood, a little spell.” He shrugged.
What kind of spell could reveal my identity through a blood sample? None that I knew of. “What were you trying to do with my blood?”
He rolled his eyes. “A little persuasion to have you work for me as a favor.”
The bastard had been trying to compel me.
“Oh, don’t look so betrayed,” he continued.
“If anyone should be put out, it’s me. The spell didn’t work because you’re not human.
Got me to wondering what you were hiding and why, so I did a little digging.
Rabbit holes, you know. Finally came upon an old image print in the news archives of an Ariana Onyx and her daughter after a most terrible tragedy. You look just like your mother.”
“Okay, so you know. So what? You hate the Arcanus just as much as I do, so—”
“Hate them, yes, but magic is my business. I have commissions. Contacts. If anyone finds out I’ve been helping you, then I’m done.
I’m sorry. Our business relationship is over.
” His gaze dropped to the trap. “Just leave the critter and go, we can keep the truth between us. No one else needs to know who you are or where you live.”
Where I live? The heat from my ears cooled to ice. “Are you threatening me?”
“Ah, Ana, don’t be so dramatic. I need the critter, and you need my silence. Think of it as a business deal. Last thing your mother needs in her condition is to be harassed.”
“What my mother needs is the tincture. You don’t understand how much pain she’s in.
It’s the only thing that helps. The only thing that allows her to continue to be here for a little longer before…
” My voice cracked, and a lump began to form in my throat.
I was damned if I’d cry. “Bunty, she’s dying, and your tincture is the only thing allowing her any quality of life in the interim. ”
“If I got emotionally invested in all my business transactions, I’d never make any coin.” He sniffed and went back to work on whatever crap he was fixing. “Make sure you close the door firmly on the way out, you know it has a tendency to unlatch.”
I wasn’t surprised at his reaction to finding out my true name. That part I understood, that part had happened too many times for me to be surprised. But to deny a dying woman relief from pain? That was simply evil.
“You bastard.”
His expression hardened. “Now, now, Ana, don’t make me rescind my most generous offer.”
There was no way out of this. I needed his silence. I set the trap on the floor.
“Please, don’t. Don’t leave me here.”
“I’m sorry.”
I turned and began to walk away.
“It’s karma, you know,” Bunty called out. “All the pain your mother’s going through?”
I slowly turned to face him, heart pounding my ribs as heat rushed up my body. “What did you say?”
He flinched but held his ground. “I said it’s karma.”
“You think my mother deserves to die?”
“I think it’s fitting that her story comes to an end.”
I took a few steps toward him. A red haze filling my vision, I crouched and picked up the trap, bringing it close to my mouth and whispering. “Are you still hungry?”
“Yesss.”
“What are you doing?” Bunty said, backing up a step. “Put that thing down.”
My smile was a wicked, broken thing. “Happy hunting.”
I opened the trap then walked away to the symphony of his agonized screams, and the munch and crunch of a much-deserved feasting.
Karma was indeed a bitch, and some people deserved to die.
My mother was not one of them.