Heart Strings (Black Magic Outlaw Book 3) (12 page)

 

 

 

 

Kita smiled as her paper lights hovered around us. "You like them? I picked up a new trick after meeting you."

They definitely complicated matters. "I wanna know where Connor is."

"Beyond your reach," she taunted. "He'll be out of the country soon. You're one step behind him. Again."

"Off to his private island then?" She snapped her head up in surprise. She hadn't known that I knew. So it was true about the island. "Where is it?" I demanded.

Her face relaxed again. "The boss is gone, Cisco."

"I thought Rudi was your boss," I said sarcastically. Then it dawned on me. "You're not talking about the Society, are you?" My face darkened. "Connor's the head of the Covey. He's the one behind everything."

She shrugged. "You didn't already know? Emily, Tyson—we all get our marching orders from him. Even that cocky vampire who thought he could control you. I thought that's how you found us at his hotel."

Connor Hatch. He was the one who wanted the Horn and set the Covey on me. The gang war in Little Haiti, the real estate, the killing—he was the one responsible.

"Why are you working for him?" I asked.

"I like to back a winner."

"He didn't look like much running away." I cracked the shotgun in half and held it by the barrel in my left hand, like I just wanted to talk. I turned my body to the side so my belt pouch was behind me and casually reached in.

"He's a busy man. Don't think you're meaningful to him."

"I was meaningful enough to be murdered."

The paper mage scoffed. "That was Tunji's idea. To bring you into the fold and make you a powerful asset."

"Don't give me that. Connor had his eyes on me before that. The play from the start was to use me, a shadow charmer, to find the Horn of Subjugation. He set Emily against me to do that. What did he do, threaten her?"

Kita Mariko laughed. "Your sweet Emily, the damsel in distress? Cisco, whatever makes you think she didn't want to use you like that?"

I gritted my teeth. "I don't believe that."

She shrugged it off. "She made mistakes, Tunji made mistakes, even I underestimated you. We rarely agree on everything, but it works out in the end."

"The Covey's just one big dysfunctional family, is that it?"

"Something like that. We each have autonomy to do as we wish as long as it furthers his interests."

"The drug empire, you mean. The Passport to Latin America." I fingered the new shell I'd recently cooked up. "Connor's making inroads in Miami."

"Miami's only the starting point. We're moving into the whole country soon enough. Thanks in no small part to you." She was smug as she explained it, proud of what ten years of misery could accomplish.

"Killing your father. Setting me up. Starting a gang war. You did it all for a scumbag drug lord."

Kita fanned air to her face coyly.

"How did Connor disappear like that?" I demanded.

"You still don't know who he is." She said it matter-of-factly.

I spat on the floor. "He's a piece of garbage living on borrowed time."

"He's a jinn."

I froze. A jinn. A being from the Aether. A primal force, like an elemental, but independent, motivated.

The Aether is a place of fire and air. That explained how Connor could dematerialize out the tower windows and essentially vanish. Jinns are mysterious beings, not easy to face, usually only interacted with through intense protection measures and ritual binding.

I didn't try to hide the shock on my face, and it pleased Kita to see it. She grinned and took a step up while I worked the ramifications through my head.

The Earthly Steppe lies between the Aether and Nether. Being a connector realm, we're somewhat compatible with both, a sort of neutral ground. But the two extremes are polar opposites. Silvans and jinns do
not
get along.

That explained why Jade, in the hot tub, had cowered at the sight of Connor. If she somehow realized who he was,
what
he was, she would've been terrified.

That also partly explained his previous head of security, the Covey member still at large. Elementals aren't as ambitious as humans. They don't have the same agency, plotting, and scheming in our affairs. But jinns, not only are they familiar with subterfuge and manipulation, they're masters of them.

Worse, jinns are nigh untouchable.

I tried to discreetly slide the shotgun shell into the open barrel, but Kita finally caught on to what I was doing. She charged and raised the fan, but surprised me with a kick. Her high heel flew off as she batted my shotgun to the side. I managed to hold onto it, but the round bounced to the floor.

The hovering paper lights surrounded me next, and that's when the fan came down. Without a shadow to hide in, I threw up my forearm and braced myself. A wild flash of yellow met my armor as it flared blue. The powerful Intrinsics exploded and knocked us away from each other. I winced as my blood splattered to the floor where she had cut the tattoo. I didn't have a lot of those left in me.

Focused on her, I barely noticed the floating light dive at my side. I raised my energy shield just in time, snowflake tattoo searing through my black palm and manifesting a semi-sphere of blue energy, but it was no good. The shield was meant to stop velocity, items with very little mass. The paper light veered off course slightly but it passed through my defenses and crashed into my head.

A bright flash exploded within my eyeballs. Something within me faltered. My pull at what little shadow was left in the room weakened. It was like the light itself was consuming me.

I screamed. Kita swiped again and I rolled away, this time opting not to meet the sharp edge. I could only take so much of a beating at once, and I knew better than to underestimate Kita.

She came at me on my left while I was still disoriented. I hopped away and she spun around in a reversal. I was off balance and barely avoided getting my arm chopped off. But the fan sliced at my right hip, and I felt my belt pouch cut away. As I rolled backward, Kita kicked my spell tokens down the flight of stairs.

There went my ammo.

I waved my empty shotgun in the air, fending off the other balls of light. For the first time I wished the barrel hadn't been sawed off. The extra reach would've been useful now. But the remaining orbs didn't attack, and I figured Kita needed enough of them to stick around to provide light.

I scrambled away from the mage and searched for a better weapon, and then I realized we'd been standing in the midst of one the entire time.

I feinted and drew an attack from Kita before lunging toward the pentacle. As I skidded on the stone, my hand scraped the chalk away. Then I grabbed the mirror and slid it along the floor to Kita.

The pentacle was broken.

The air suddenly went cold and Kita paused her attack. A low rumble filled our eardrums.

"It doesn't matter how much light you have," I said to Kita. "There's enough darkness in this world to go around."

Then the birthday candle at her feet snuffed out. The remaining orbs of light went black and crumpled to the floor. Everything went dark.

That's when the scathing laughter erupted from the walls.

"What did you do?" she asked, spooked.

Soldiers materialized and reached for us. Kita swiped at them, but the ethereal beings ignored her attack. She screamed as claws tore at her flesh. In defense, a swarm of confetti and streamers filled the air around her, swirling in a tornado, attempting to shield her from the angry spirits.

I slid into the shadow, but even I wasn't immune here. Fingers tugged at me, scraping my soul. I exited the shadow on the other side of Kita and then my flesh was under attack too. I gritted my teeth and reached for the dropped shotgun shell. I rolled to my back, jammed it into the open barrel of the sawed-off, and aimed at the flailing paper mage.

"You're not the only one who came prepared, Kita."

Then I blasted her with a new concoction, pebbles of ground bones and joints: the rendered basis of glue.

The particles smothered Kita with a substance that liquefied and thickened. It absorbed the paper tornado around her, soaked it till it was lifeless and saturated, and slapped it tightly against her body. In moments, her own defenses tightened around her like papier-mâché, pinning her arms and legs in place.

Kita screamed as the ghosts had free access to her. She tripped. Before she hit the ground, I tackled her. Together we barreled down the stairway, away from the prying hands of dead things. I scooped up my belt pouch and rolled her down another flight until we were safe. The hollow screams howled above before sputtering out as the spirits returned to their restless vigil.

The paper mage struggled on the floor like a flopping fish. I rolled her to her stomach and straddled her. Then I held my ceremonial knife to her neck and said, "Hold still."

She settled down and I cut away some of the gummy substance from her back. Her black satchel had been hung around her back the entire time. She'd kicked my ass wearing that and one high heel, but she was mine now.

"It's a dying art," I said, cutting her bag open and sliding out the laptop. "Paper. Everything's digital now." I found her phone in the bag as well and snatched it. "It's all over, Kita. Everything you worked for. I'm exposing it all."

She grumbled as I took her possessions, and I knew I didn't need the USB drive anymore. I leaned down to Kita and whispered in her ear.

"I made a promise that I wouldn't hurt you. You're practically family. But I want you to bow out of this."

Her eyes sharpened.

I held the blade closer. "I can't keep my claws back forever."

Her eyes set on the ceremonial bronze for a moment and then she nodded.

"Good," I said.

I left her there and slipped down the steps, using the darkness to cover my escape.

 

 

 

 

My old truck sped down
Calle Ocho
. The late evening was darker in the Everglades, devoid of the frequent streetlights of the city. When I pulled onto the dirt road leading to my hideaway, I smiled. What self-respecting shadow charmer would have it any other way?

I'd last been here days ago, rushed out by the DROP team. Now, I didn't know what to expect. I entered the eyes of the tree frogs and the gators, flipping through them like security camera feeds. None reported anything more unusual than myself.

I parked and went to the glove compartment for another burner phone, but slammed it in frustration. I'd used them all and needed another batch. My funds were getting low but I could afford it. Sure, I didn't have an income, but it wasn't like I had expenses either. That's the great thing about abandoned boathouses in the wetlands. They're rent free.

I slipped inside with Kita's laptop. Everything was as I'd left it. The fast food wrappers, the bedroll, even the five-hundred-year-old wraith standing beside the locked lead safe.

"You return,
brujo
. I feared you were dead."

"Too busy for that," I said. I set the computer down and flipped it open. It greeted me with a desktop image of the ocean. I shivered. I was good without the sea for a while.

I'm not the most technically savvy person, but the operating system was pretty much what I remembered, just with more rounded edges. Unfortunately, none of the files were named "Secret Drug Dealer Files" so I began the arduous task of searching the hard drive one folder at a time. All I'd wanted was to avenge my family. Instead, I had to play dirty Miami politics and chase money. Exposing Rudi was only the start.

The ghostly conquistador hovered a safe distance from me, both enraptured by and uncertain of the device. After nothing impressive happened, he spoke. "The police have not returned since their raid."

I nodded. "The silvans were true to their word then."

The skull smiled. "There is always a catch with the wild folk. They're twisted creatures. Abominations who exist to torment our kind. They get their hooks in and tug you with invisible lines, seeing you as utility and nothing else."

I shrugged. Ceela
had
used me to slow down Orpheus, but she'd delivered a powerful favor in return. "They're the least of our worries," I explained. "Rudi and Co. are connected. I uncovered quite a bit during my visit to the Cayman Islands."

The wraith cocked his head. "The Greater Antilles Archipelago."

"Whatever. Turns out there's a group of mages in a business alliance. Pretty much a cartel. Have you heard of the Society?"

The apparition only needed a moment before answering, "No."

"I've been getting their attention lately with some of my wilder stunts. They sent an enforcer after me. This guy was a lightning animist. A skeezy, two-faced, snake-oil-salesman sort. Said he wants a truce as long as I back down, but I'm sure he'd turn on me the second I was a liability."

"One occultist can be handled. He claimed an association with many?"

"That's the idea. But I have no way of knowing how big they are or how far their reach is. From what I've seen, I'm willing to bet they go deeper than a silvan's rabbit hole. But I haven't seen them stateside yet. Besides, the Society's not who I want." I looked up from the computer screen. "I found him. The head of the Covey."

"Excellent. Is he dead?" You gotta love the Spaniard.

"Not quite. I tracked him down to a fund-raiser. He's a drug lord building ties in Miami through Rudi Alvarez, strong-arming, and spellcraft. But he vanished into thin air before I could get to him. He's a jinn."

The wraith's red eyes flared brightly at the word. "Jinn." He tried it on his lips like a foreign delicacy, taking time to savor the fullness of it.

"You know something about them?"

"Jinns are worse than silvans."

"Anything else?"

The wraith shook his head. "A paltry amount."

"You told me you were well connected in life. That you had access to countless ancient texts, much of them now destroyed. Surely some of those books mentioned the jinn."

"Only stories."

"Can those stories help me stop him?"

The wraith sighed. It was a hollow sound that whistled through his bones. "I do not know if you can face a jinn. What I know is legend, and little more. It is said that there are three kinds of sapient beings in the world: man, jinn, and seraph. Seraphs are angels, a powerful but small race that guided us in our formative years. Less known to Westerners are the jinn, sometimes referred to as djinn or genies. Their kind is prevalent in ancient history—it is said King Solomon built his castle with jinn slaves—but that was a long time ago. Now seraphs are long gone but remembered, and jinns are still lurking but forgotten."

"That's mostly a fairy tale, though. There are lots of other races. Many that used to be human, but plenty foreign to the three."

"As I said, legends. But there is often truth to be found in sacred beliefs. Jinns are purported to be more like us than we know. They were given free will. They govern themselves, rule their own kingdom."

"The Aether."

The ghost nodded. "Other beings hail from the Aether, but the jinn are the dominant race there just as humans are on Earth and silvans below. All machinations of government go through them."

"So Connor comes down with an elemental buddy to wreak havoc on our steppe?"

"For profit," said the wraith. "But the elemental is unlikely a willing participant." The wraith turned to the safe that contained the powder horn he was bound to. "You know the tales,
brujo
. The genie in the lamp serving up wishes."

I nodded and played with Kita's phone while I listened.

"It is believed," he said, "the only safe way to handle a jinn is after it has been slipped into the noose of enchantment. Unable to channel its full power. I've seen it written that this particular trick of binding is rooted in jinn magic. A secret of their own kind, twisted and used against them to force them into servitude."

"And you think the elemental is in such a bind?"

"It would make sense, unless there's an elemental plot we're unaware of."

"Okay." I clapped my hands together. "Easy peasy. We can just cook up a binding spell then?"

"These arcane mysteries are beyond my knowledge,
brujo
. As you know, I focused my studies on the Murk and the spirits that give
us
power."

I frowned. Of course it wasn't easy peasy. "Jinns aren't powered the same way as us?"

"Humans tap spirits for magic. The wild folk are beings created from magic. It hums in their bones. The jinn, on the other hand,
are
magic. It is their essence, like all primal beings. That doesn't make them all powerful, but it makes them quite resilient. Foreign to our kind."

"But I'm smarter than the average bear," I quipped. "I should be able to slap him around a little. He ran from me back at the hotel."

The wraith blinked patiently. "Unless bound, escape is a jinn's safest bet. Exposed to open air, they can become one with the Aether instantly. Why fight when it is unnecessary?"

"I mean, this guy has a private jet. I've seen him hop into a car to avoid me. Why go through all that trouble?"

He thought a minute. "Jinns are unable to take objects from our physical world into the Aether. That's part of why binding them to a lamp is effective. Unless trusting others to the delivery, some business is best handled personally."

Money. Drugs. There were tons of reasons Connor might choose to use Earthly means of transportation. In the Caymans, he was carrying the USB drive. Back at the Biltmore, he just didn't have anything holding him down.

"Well, I'll be," I said, glancing at the map app on Kita's phone. An error message complained about not being able to update my location, but a map still loaded up. It was an old GPS coordinate from one of Kita's previous stops. And it was right in the middle of the ocean.

If I drew a line through the three Cayman Islands to Cuba, it intersected the location. It could've been a plane coordinate, I supposed. But maybe it was more. That line connected to the Sierra Maestra mountain range in Cuba. It was high ground that continued undersea and, in some areas, rose above the surface.

I'd found the location of Connor's private island.

"What is it?" asked the wraith.

I held out the phone to him. "Even Pablo Escobar can be cornered."

The Spaniard shied away from the phone. "Where did you get that?"

"Relax. It's called technology. You must've seen some by now."

"Not that," said the wraith. He lifted a finger of brown, shriveled flesh. "Your hand."

The hand holding the phone was completely covered in a dark crust. It was getting worse. I shrugged. "I mixed it up with a faun."

"That is not something to take lightly,
brujo
. You are cursed."

"So he said. But I haven't imploded or anything yet."

The Spaniard shook his head. "A Nether curse is less a magical hex and more a contract on your life."

Everything snapped into place. "That explains the mermaid."

"It is a stain that can only be given and taken by silvan royalty."

"Orpheus did say something about the Circle of Bone."

"That is his dominion then. You must convince them to remove it."

I snorted. "Not likely. You should've seen this guy."

The Spaniard's voice deepened. "As long as you bear that mark, the Nether will chase you. Scourgelings will be angered by your presence. Silvans will look to gain favor with their betters."

I nodded. "I kinda figured I should avoid the underworld for a while."

"They will grow bolder. They will come to the Earthly Steppe if they must."

I put the phone away. "I hear you but what can I do?"

"Beg for your life, or come to terms with the faun."

I answered him with a snicker. "That's not gonna happen. That guy's an asshole." At first I was surprised by the wraith's concern, but I realized if I died, so too did his chances for escape. He'd be bound to an artifact locked in a safe in the middle of nowhere for who knew how many more years.

"What about the others?" he suggested. "The satyr and the minotaur. Can they bargain on your behalf?"

I scratched my chin. If this Nether mark was as bad as the Spaniard insisted then Ceela still owed me. She seemed sensible, for a silvan anyway. "Maybe," I finally said. "I doubt it, but maybe. Only they're in hiding."

"I know where they are," revealed my companion. "When they entered the building, I hid from them. They never noticed me or your possessions, as you bid. After the human police were sent away, I overheard their plans."

Interesting. So I had a trick on the tricksters. But it had been days. There was no guarantee the silvans would still be there. I grimaced at the black crust spreading over my wrist. It was worth a shot, damn it.

But first, a quick stop.