Fire Water (Black Magic Outlaw Book 5) Read online

  Twenty feet.

  Rushed footsteps shuffled right behind me. I spun just in time. It was the older santera I'd glimpsed on the streets of South Beach earlier. She lifted a necklace of green and black beads to her lips and kissed them. I thrust my hand out, converted the shadow to a wall between us. The woman lashed the necklace at me like a whip. It grew in size, skirted my wall of shadow, and squeezed around my hand like a snake. The beads crunched tight and the wall disappeared.

  I gritted my teeth and tried to yank my arm from the old lady's grip. It barely budged. I know, she was just a little old lady. But it was the power of her orisha I was fighting, not her.

  The kid charged me from behind now. He swung an aluminum bat in a horizontal arc, straight at my midsection. I put my left arm in the way. Turquoise flashed as the metal bounced. With my right hand still bound, I grabbed his collar with my left and jerked his head into mine. He stumbled to the floor, dazed.

  The santera tugged on the necklace. I tried to pull away, but it had me good. Even worse, it was interfering with my ability to tap into shadow. People started yelling around us. The commotion was growing. I had to hurry before the police down the street joined in. The kid on the floor tried to get up but I kicked him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain. His bat rolled over the curb.

  Somewhere in my struggle, I realized it was just me and the old lady. Instead of pulling against the necklace, I charged into her. And screw spellcraft. My free hand grabbed the santera's wrist and twisted. Her frail fingers released the necklace. It shrank down to size and went loose. I gripped it in two hands and snapped it. Green and black beads bounced on the concrete. I took a menacing step toward the lady and she fell backward in fear. Then I shook my head and darted for the van.

  Berna was already pulling out before I opened the door. I jumped in and she pushed into light traffic.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  "We need to get to South Miami," I said. "There's a warehouse that has something Connor needs."

  "This is bad," said Darcy. She pointed to a police car that pulled in behind us. We were still stuck in traffic.

  "They didn't see us," I said. My cell phone rang. Evan's house. I picked it up. "Yeah?"

  "Cisco?" came my daughter's hesitant voice.

  My body froze. "Uh, Fran? Hi, little one."

  Berna swerved around a car to get to the open road. The Cuban kid from the street was up again. Before we could get out of there, he sprinted to the van and jumped onto the back bumper, grabbing a roof flare for support. Berna accelerated.

  "What the crap!" cried Darcy.

  I lowered in the seat and covered my ear. "What's up, Fran?"

  Her voice came back careful. Unsure. She'd never called me before. "I... I just wanted to ask if you were okay. I mean, I know you're helping protect us from bad people but the way you left us this morning—"

  "I'm fine. Jumping eight stories into a pool is dangerous, but I know what I'm doing."

  The santero kid banged on the back window.

  "Are you serious right now?" asked Darcy. She waved her Hecate statue and the boy tumbled to the street.

  "I know," answered Fran. "It's just that, Dad says you're always getting yourself into crazy situations and I don't know what to think about that."

  "I'm fine, little one. Nothing crazy here."

  The police siren sounded behind us. Quick chirps, on and off.

  "You sure?" asked Fran.

  A voice came over the loudspeaker. "Pull over!"

  I cupped my hand around the phone to dull the noise. "Yup," I said. "Everything's good. Just another normal day in Miami." Berna turned down a side street and punched the gas. "Listen, I gotta go. I promise I'll call you later, okay?"

  She waited a moment. "Okay."

  "And Fran... Happy birthday. I'm sorry I had to run."

  The siren chirped again and I ended the call.

  "Look what you did," accused Berna.

  "I can handle it," said Darcy.

  Even though Berna had been talking to me, the girl took it upon herself to fix it. As the officer turned onto the street behind us, she squeezed both hands around her fetish and growled. The police cruiser gained on us until its front left wheel crumpled inward. It jerked to the side and spun into a parked car. Darcy collapsed into the seat and I caught her.

  "Holy hell," I said.

  Darcy's eyes fluttered. I rubbed the back of my hand against her face. Wet. Warm.

  "She's burning up."

  "She'll recover," said Berna, twisting down another road. "She just needs time."

  I checked behind us but didn't see police following. "You know," I said, "a bright orange VW Bus isn't the most inconspicuous vehicle out there."

  "It's warded," she said. "It shouldn't stand out or be especially memorable."

  I snorted. Wards were useful but they weren't bulletproof. Especially against the type of people you really needed protection against. But true to her word no one else picked up the chase. For now, at least, we were clear.

  Chapter 10

  We pulled up to the address. A block away, of course. That was as far as the Society was willing to help. I couldn't complain this time. Darcy had gotten the cops off our tail and was still recovering. I turned my attention to the museum archives.

  It was a boring tan block of a building. Few windows. Iron gate that was probably always open during business hours. A small parking lot with two cars. It looked just as normal as anywhere else. Except three Taíno bodies were inside.

  "You look better," I said to Darcy. She was sitting up now. Smiling but obviously lightheaded.

  "I can't go in there with you," she said firmly.

  "I know. You can't intervene." I winked at her.

  "Street thugs are different. I can shake them off you, but I can't go after Connor. He'd recognize me. Us."

  I eyed Berna and wondered if she was more than just a driver. Knowing Winthrop, probably. She relaxed in the seat, happy to see I didn't have an Uzi this time.

  Darcy's lower lip was thrust out. It was obvious she didn't like being an errand girl. She let her red bangs fall over her face. I sighed. She was just a kid.

  "Hey," I said. "Don't sweat it."

  She shrugged.

  I wondered when she'd come into her considerable power. Who had prospered from her strength. I doubted it was her.

  My daughter might've been in a similar boat. I knew for a fact Connor had begun teaching her the workings of spellcraft, without even her mother's knowledge. That was over now. I put a stop to that, but at some point I needed to face facts and ask Fran what she could do. I wondered if spellcraft was a road I wished for anybody.

  Darcy turned to me with hard eyes. "What?"

  I shook my head. "Nothing."

  I exited the van and approached the side of the building. South Miami wasn't as dense as Downtown. Nobody was really in a position to see or care what I was up to. I went right through the front door. A reception desk sat empty. The computer was in the middle of a game of solitaire. I wished I hadn't lost my gun at the museum. The sawed off was still with me, of course. It always was. It followed me wherever there was shadow. Too bad it was useless without a pack of twenty-gauge shells.

  Past the small waiting room was a door that led down a long hallway with various walk-in closets storing catalogued boxes of history. Double doors opened up to an Indiana-Jones-style warehouse. Rows of shelves taller than me. Loading doors in the back. This was where I should've seen someone, but the place was empty.

  There were a couple of... examination rooms is the best way I could put it. Fluorescent overheads, tables surrounded by lights and instruments and cameras, tiled floors. It almost looked like surgery was performed here. This was where precious relics were studied. So far, so good. This place was exactly what Dr. Trinidad had explained. A research space and offsite storage facility for their rotating collections. Zip on the Taíno bodies, though.

  I checked through a window. Back alley.
Quiet. The window at the other corner revealed another wing of the warehouse, a separate building connected by an indoor walkway. A steady stream of gray smoke billowed from the chimney. Finally some activity.

  I traced the outer wall to the walkway and cautiously moved toward the new building. Double doors entered a library of sorts. It was smoky in here. Dark, with light flickering faintly on academic volumes that filled the shelves. The carpet was a tight fiber that silenced my steps.

  I stretched my fingers, feeling the play of the darkness. I flanked around a center pillar of stone and what ended up being a grand fireplace in a private study. It looked like the kind of place Gandalf would've kicked back in, except it was a mess. Victorian couches had been hastily shoved against shelves to clear space. Ash littered the shag rug. Before the smoldering fireplace were three open crates. Their delicately packed contents were smeared with painted symbols. The genuine Taíno corpses, desecrated by spellcraft.

  Damn. Connor had already come and gone. I'd been right on his tail but the police had given him all the time he needed.

  I circled the site of the ritual carefully. In the fireplace was a blackened husk. Not a body part. I grabbed the fire poker and carefully rolled it out. A four-legged statue bounced on the carpet. My face darkened.

  Opiyelguobiran, the Shadow Dog. This was the zemi that was stolen from the museum. My patron, burnt to a crisp. I wondered if it was a message or something more.

  Connor had worked something here. I frowned and studied the bodies. They looked very much like the fake recreation in the museum. Fetal position. Worn by the elements and mud and time. Delicately handled, if not skillfully.

  I blinked. My irises cracked. The green gave way to the black of my pupils, filling my eyes. The darkness of the room opened to me. As long as I didn't look directly at the remains of the fire, it was dark enough to see the magic. I examined the zemi and the bodies for signs of spellcraft. Glows, enchantments, workings of any sort. This site was an hour old at the most, but I didn't get much of a read on anything.

  What had Connor accomplished here? I paced around the room in thought. No. What had he failed to accomplish? This was a test run for the Horn of Subjugation. The real reason Connor was in town. He had made a very public show to acquire these relics, only to abandon them. My guess was the jinn was trying to raise the dead himself. It would be impossible with bodies this far gone.

  But something nagged at me. Shadow magic. Taíno natives. This was about more than just raising a few zombie lackeys. I eyed the smoking fireplace, wondering just what was going on.

  A creak of wood announced a presence at the doorway. I turned, clenching my jaw. A black man in a clean white suit entered. His chest was puffed out and his eyes had an aggressive tinge.

  I knew this man. Besides Emily, he was the only other living member of Connor's shattered Covey. But Tyson Roderick, the man standing in the room with me, wasn't a man at all. Not human. Not even close.

  Chapter 11

  Tyson Roderick had exaggerated features. Large nose, plump lips, puffy cheeks. His hairline was sharp. In another life he'd worked security for a corrupt politician. Now his face was different. Still a fullback of a man, but another form. His true form maybe. Or maybe he had no true human form.

  Like the smoldering logs in the fire, his shimmering red eyes hinted at what was just beneath the surface. Tyson was a being of magic. Violent energy ran through his veins, searing and pure. A volcanic elemental, once summoned to the Earthly Steppe for service. The question was, why was he still here?

  "Who are you working for, Tyson?" I asked. "Really?"

  His voice came out like a jet engine, deep and rumbling. "You have it wrong, human. For the first time, I'm working alone."

  "But you're still working?"

  I let the question hang in the air. The man had been my enemy once. Twice killed on this steppe, instead of meeting oblivion he'd only been desummoned back to the Aether. At Connor's behest, no doubt, he'd returned. But I'd destroyed the Covey. Tyson no longer had ties here.

  "I'm here for vengeance," he said, plain and direct. He balled his fists.

  "Kita," I whispered, eyes narrowed. Elementals weren't supposed to concern themselves with human affairs.

  Emily's half sister, Kita Mariko, had been Connor's soldier. As part of my effort to defeat the Covey, I'd killed her, only to later discover she was a thrall, just like the others. An innocent woman, dead at my hands.

  Tyson moved into the room. I took a step back, keeping ten feet between us.

  "Relax, shadow witch. It's not your head I want." The big man's face went somber. He'd worked alongside Kita for ten years, at least. Among humans the connection was clear, but I didn't know what that meant for an elemental.

  "You're here for Connor," I concluded. "But how did you know he was here?"

  He stepped closer again. This time I didn't back away.

  "We share a connection," he said.

  "You know where he is?"

  "Not exactly." His red eyes traced over the Taíno corpses.

  "Connor's working on something big," I explained. "He has the Horn. He's recruited the street. And now he's trying to raise the dead."

  Tyson nodded once. "Flexing newfound muscles. Testing his power."

  "He has a submarine now. I have some intel saying he's looking for a lost city of gold. If we can work out what he needs exactly—where he's going to be—we can ambush him together."

  The elemental shook his head and searched me with his eyes. Disappointed. "You're thinking like a human. He is a jinn. You need to understand: his operations, his money, his people—they're all expendable. He'll burn it all before he lets you catch him."

  I shrugged. "It's worth it if I get the Horn back."

  He grunted. "That won't be easy. Connor's hunted the Horn for decades. He's crafted elaborate plots to secure it. He owns it now. You'll never get it back."

  I worked my jaw. I was staring at the glowing logs in the fireplace. Watching the fingers of smoke curl in on themselves.

  "He's not invincible," I asserted. "I'll find a way to take him down."

  Tyson squared himself with me. I was an inch over six feet and he was an imposing figure. "How far are you willing to go to get him?"

  I met his eyes. "All the way, Tyson. I have nothing to lose anymore. Emily and the others are protected. I made a deal with Connor for their safety."

  "While at the same time opening yourself to attack."

  I shrugged.

  A deep grunt rumbled through the elemental's chest. "Maybe you've outmaneuvered him."

  "I wouldn't go that far, but I got what I wanted."

  He nodded. "That's more than Connor usually gives."

  I studied the bodies again. Connor didn't like compromise. He didn't like setbacks and failures. At the same time, his long lifespan ensured he could be patient. He was anxious only because his ends were close at hand but, if I managed to get in the way, it would only mean a minor delay on his end.

  "What about you?" I asked. "Can you get to him?"

  Tyson rolled his lips in frustration. "I'm an elemental. I cannot enter into combat with a jinn."

  I wasn't sure what that meant. They were both primal beings, from the Aether. "You can't do anything?" I asked.

  "It has to be you."

  I hissed, unsure what Tyson was offering me. What he was doing here. "Why me?" I asked. "I was trapped in service to him, same as you. We were all slaves."

  "Maybe," he countered, "but you're the only one who outsmarted him."

  He jerked his head to the side, seemingly looking straight through the wall. In a few seconds, I heard it. Police sirens. They must've gotten a line on the storage facility. This smoky library was on a side lot, but it wouldn't take them long to find it.

  "Okay," I said. "So how do we get to Connor?"

  Tyson smiled. "You need to stop thinking like a human."

  "Easy for you to say."

  Tyson put his arm around my shoulde
r and pulled me to the fireplace. "Connor's untouchable on the Earthly Steppe, so we need to confront him on another. Attack his power base. We need to go to the Aether."

  I froze. "That's also easy for you to say. The Aether's made out of fire and air. Mankind can't go there."

  He faced me head on and chuckled. "It can be done. It has been done before. You simply need a host. Someone to protect you and lead the way."

  I arched a skeptical eyebrow.

  "Take my hands, Cisco. Let's hit Connor at his knees."

  The elemental held both his mitts out, palm up, rough calluses waiting on me. In the background the police announced their presence, shouting their intentions, barking sharply as they cleared each room. They were fast and efficient.

  Tyson took a measured breath. In and out. Then he narrowed his eyes. "How much do you want this, Cisco? How far are you willing to go for your vengeance?"

  My face twisted into a growl. I clasped his hands in mine and he nodded. His eyes flashed brighter. The skin on his face cracked. Thin lines of light widened into gulfs of molten red as his flesh flaked away and hardened into rock. I'd seen this before. Tyson was transforming into his elemental form, a jagged being of rock and magma.

  Except this time the lava dripped over my hands. I jerked away from the searing heat but my arms were encased in rock. The igneous layer ran over my body. I twisted and screamed. Twice in one day I was burning alive.

  Tyson dragged my struggling body toward the fireplace. The lava trickled up my face. I shook, feeling all the life flee from my blackened body. I screamed again and blazing fire poured down my open throat right before my vision went black.

  The sounds of the police were muffled. I was quiet. My twisting panic had ceased. But I felt the rock working through me. Had a dull sense of folding over the warm logs in the fireplace. My knee fractured against brick. Flaking soot that used to be my flesh crumbled. I rocked forward and shattered into pieces. Then whatever was left of my form disintegrated. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.