King's Gambit (14 page)

My mind,
my heart
, told me to scream, but I didn’t have time to process the sound before flinging out a mass of force towards Zhen and her disciple. The table made up for my lack of verbal outrage, splintering with a whip-like crack and sending shards everywhere. I brought up a barrier, my fear of splinters mellowing my rage for the fastest of seconds.

Finally finding my voice, I screamed Alex’s name and rushed to his side, sending out another blast of pure force in the other two’s direction for safe measure. Alex was struggling between pulling himself up and reaching for the knife. I batted his hand away and placed his head on my lap.

“Don’t speak,” I breathed out, threading my fingers through his hair. “I’ve got you, okay? It doesn’t look like the knife hit your heart or spine.” I left out the part where I was worried his lungs were punctured. The dagger was longer than average, and I could see the silver tip protruding from his back.

Picking up movement from the corner of my eye, I brought up a barrier. Julia glanced off it. I pushed myself as far from Alex as I could so he wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. An ironic phrase, because a rush of fire came towards me. The smell of burnt hair hit me, the singed tips fluttering by my face as I gathered my hair up into a quick ponytail.

Setting up a dome-like barrier around Alex gave me enough peace of mind to focus on the fight at hand. I really wished they’d answered me about how many people were around. Hopefully, it wasn’t a lot; with Zhen here, I’d have a hard enough time fighting off two enemies.

As if reading my mind, Zhen stepped forward, a bright cord of electricity in her hand. With the whole red motif, I expected her to be more of a fire person, but I guess Julia had that covered. The whip hissed and crackled as she flung it at me. I rolled out of the way, but it managed to wrap around my ankle, the energy melting through my pant leg and burning my skin. A million electric daggers stabbed into my leg before burrowing into muscle and bone.

I wrote the leg off, sending a blast of cold magic through it in hopes of numbing it enough for me to move. It eased the pain, but the prickling made it feel like I was lugging around a lead case filled with pissed off jellyfish.

When Zhen backed off, Julia stepped into the fray. Opening with a roundhouse kick, which I dodged, she followed up with a heavy right hook, which I
didn’t
dodge and was sure could have knocked my eyeball into my brain if not for the grace of God. As it were, the blow shattered my nose, filling my vision with red – both from literal blood and pain. I copied her, planting my good leg into her stomach, right where I kicked her last night.

My hunch paid off and she toppled backwards. Unfortunately, kicking with my good leg meant holding myself up on my injured leg. The limb gave out and my knee hit the ground with a crack. I didn’t let it stop me, instead summoning up an ice spike as I pushed myself forward to impale the short haired woman. It went through her with an ugly squelch and she let out a dozen wordless gurgles, her gloved hands clawing at the frozen spear. I pulled the weapon out, and with a grimace, stabbed it into Julia’s face. The crunching sound that followed was even worse than when I shoved it through her guts, but it gave me a chance to breathe before setting her on fire.

“That’s for stabbing me in the stomach,” I panted out. Stabbing her in the face may seem like overkill, but the bitch stabbed my boyfriend in the chest, so fuck her.

Cold pain rushed through my arm as a white light seared my retinas. Zhen’s whip had wrapped itself around my arm, and this time the pain was tenfold. I screamed as the electric current swam through me. My heart pounded, its beat rivaling the rhythm of the fiercest war drums. The throbbing became so erratic, I was worried it would literally crack through my breast bone. The sensation of my arm popping out of its socket vaguely registered as I was yanked forward, landing on my back.

Then, everything stopped. The world went black. Silent.

11

My eyes snapped opened and Zhen was on me, her maw opened wide, fangs out, and eyes pure white. A feral hiss escaped her as she reared back like a hellish serpent before diving towards me.

There was a thick pressure against my shoulder I was sure would have been agonizing if I wasn’t numb from the electricity. Blood rushed around my ears, the roaring in my veins growing softer and softer as the world dimmed around the edges. I tried to pull my magic forward, but it was hard to focus with my blood being drained. My mind screamed “fire” but my body couldn’t even form a response.

Zhen’s head snapped to the side. My vision flashed dark and the weight lifted off me. Through a black spotted filter, I saw Alex wrestling with the witch, blood devouring his shirt as she snapped at him with her fangs. The knife was there, but not in him. The sharpened steel glinted under the light as it sat through Zhen’s skull, looking like a novelty hair accessory. She gave up biting in favor of slamming her face against his, their skulls connecting with a sickening crunch. We could set a whole new level of couple-ness: matching broken bones. At least for a few minutes; I could already feel my cartilage coming back together.

Alex ripped the knife from Zhen’s head as she knocked him off her and flung it at her again, the tip going straight through her eye. She shrieked on impact and the wind outside followed suit, the walls shuddering as they were buffeted by the forming tempest.

Having regenerated enough to focus, and more importantly,
move
, I threw a fireball at her. She vanished, appearing a few feet away. The winds died down before rising once more, whipping the leftover flames into a rapidly growing inferno.

“Crap!”

I ran to Alex, and we rushed out of the building. He stumbled halfway through the courtyard, leaving a bloody trail as he rolled along the tan stone. I knelt by him, not even bothering to look over his injuries. I touched him and sent a flood of healing magic through his body. I didn’t need to “operate” on his wounds – his body knew how to do that on its own – the magic would just super-speed the healing up by ten.

At least, it would have if I kept the magic flowing through him, which was hard to do when Zhen insisted on surviving the wildfire and attacking me. Her nails were claws, and I turned my head, narrowly avoiding an eye gouge. They ripped through my cheek, pulling a scream from me as they hit my jawbone, every nerve spasming like they’d been flayed alive. I’d had the chance to recover from the electricity, allowing the magic to come easily; this time, my mind screamed “fire” and my body screamed “hell yeah.”

The first time I saw a vampire burn, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. That sentiment hasn’t changed, and if my face wasn’t shredded, I’d have whooped in admiration at the way Zhen combusted. Her skeleton was a black outline through the flames, withering away until there was nothing left but dancing orange. Since she’d been sitting on me, the fire scorched me, too, leaving the bitter smell of burnt flesh in the air, along with a bright red burn across my torso. Her ashes scattered over me, slipping into my wounds in what had to be the biggest violation I had ever experienced.

Still on my back, I kicked my way over to Alex and grabbed his arm, sending healing magic over both of us. I made sure to focus more on him, though. The pain was, well, fucking painful, but I’d regenerate naturally – he wouldn’t.

The fire engulfed most of the main house and was spreading to the other buildings by the time we’d gotten reasonably patched up. Alex more than me, but I didn’t care about me.

“Fire,” he gasped out.

I nodded at him and ran up to the house. I held my hands toward the fire and closed my eyes. The heat was intense, with tendrils of flames striking forward to lap at my fingertips. I didn’t let it faze me. I’d had the top of my hand melted off when I burnt through Wright’s safe – a few love bites from this fire was nothing.

I thought of Haven, nestled among the mountains. In the dead of winter, the mountain peaks were a glorious white, like pure sin. The air was crisp and clean, rushing around and pulling the blood up to our cheeks, painting us pink. Snow would fall and the kids would rush out at morning’s first light to play amongst it. I thought of Dovesport, of making tiny snow angels before my mother scooped me up and fussed over me getting sick, of snowball fights and snowmen, of the dragons she would conjure in her palm, miniature creatures of pale blue fire.

She was saying something, perhaps telling me about the specific dragon she’d formed. I tried desperately to cling to the new memories of her I’d discovered, to remember her voice, but I knew the spell had to come first. By the time the heat died down, an icy breeze taking its place, the memories had vanished. Only stuttered rehashes of what I had already seen played over and over again in silence, like an old movie.

“That’s one way to put out a fire.” Alex wrapped his arms around me from behind and leaned against me. I winced, my heart throbbing as the liquid I knew was his blood seeped onto my back.

A wispy, cottony cloud drifted over the estate, whipping cold air, ice, and snow into the fire. Yeah, it sounded wimpy, but this was magic – it could put out a volcano if I charged it up enough. I hadn’t, but it could still snuff out this house fire. Big area of effect spells, while fun, were more trouble than they were worth, but I figured this was our best bet.

“I didn’t have any water Pokémon on hand, so…” I shrugged. “Wait, it’d be ice Pokémon. Shut up.”

He snorted. “Water works better, since that’s what you always choose as your starter.”

“Well,” I said with great authority, “back in the old days, the first gym leader always used rock Pokémon. Ergo ipso facto sum.”

“That’s not how–”

“Shut up,” I said. “Smartass.”

He snorted again and pressed a weak kiss to my cheek. I hissed and pulled away, tears welling up in my eyes now that the adrenaline and battle rage had worn off.

“Shit,” he said as I turned to reveal my half healed face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. At least you didn’t do it when it was just bone.”

“I have no idea how to respond to that,” he admitted. “Is there someone we should call?”

“Khalil.” I scanned his face for a reaction but found none – guess jealousy got set aside when murder was on the table. “And Elise…who didn’t give me her number, so Khalil first. How are you feeling, by the way?”

“I’m fine, thanks to you.” He kissed my forehead, careful to avoid any injuries. “I do wish you’d spent more time healing yourself, though.”

I shook my head. “I’ll heal naturally. Well, ‘naturally.’ Also, remind me to not shake my head for the next…ever.”

“I’ll jot it down,” he said dryly as I called Khalil.

The vampire passed along Elise’s number and told me he would meet us at what was left of Zhen’s estate. When he hung up, I dialed Elise.

“Dubois,” Elise’s dry voice said from the other side.

“Um, Elise Dubois?”

“Yes.” Her familiar, disapproving tone was oddly comforting.

“It’s Morgan.”

“Mademoiselle Maxwell,” she greeted. “To what do I owe this call?”

“Morgan,” I repeated firmly. “I didn’t know your last name was Dubois.”

“Focus,” said Alex.

“Right. Um, Zhen tried to kill me.”

I could practically hear her eyes roll. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume–”

“Morgan,” Alex droned.

I smacked him on the arm. “You’re supposed to be on my side. Okay, so her assistant or whatever was one of the people who killed Robert. I figured it out, then they attacked me. First.
They
attacked
me
–”

“Yes, yes, I get the picture,” she said. “You know the drill. Bring me a sample of blood.”

“I actually have a question about that. A few weeks ago, I met a Garou shaman who performed a ritual that allowed me to experience the memories of certain departed. Is there a thaumaturgical ritual that would allow us to do the same?”

“Having never experienced the ritual myself, I can’t say anything definitive, but there is a similar ritual I can perform, yes,” she said. I pumped my fist in the air, then promptly dropped it as she added, “But I’ll need at least one of the subject’s eyes. Both would be better.”

I looked at the half exposed skeleton of Zhen’s house to the scattered ashes of the woman herself. “Yeah…that’s not going to be possible. For either woman. I have ashes, though. Would that help?”

“No,” she said flatly. “Not for the ritual you want. Do bring me some, though.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Perhaps,” she said with an amused hum before hanging up.

I turned to Alex. “Do you have an urn?”

At his revival of
Alex Campbell: Grumpy Cat
, I called Khalil and asked if he could make a quick stop.