Page 2 of All Out of Flux
We gathered around the glowing oblong in Roscoe’s hands. A regular tablet, in fact, and it felt weird that I had to mentally clarify that. But some people in the arcane underground, likeour unfriendly neighborhood Masque, actually projected tiny screens in their hands, an odd melding of magic and technology.
The fuzzy black and white image flowed into motion when Roscoe tapped the screen. He was connecting to one of the café’s security cameras, which meant that we were watching the man in the back alley in real time.
At least this guy bothered with dark clothing. It seemed like the bare minimum. I thought I spotted something gleaming on his neck. One of those magical diamond tattoos, probably, that designated him as a minion of the Brillante crime family. He wended his way between the crates and garbage, frowning at all the debris.
“You promised to clear all that junk before the evening’s over,” Johnny said, clucking his tongue. “I don’t need the city on my ass about trash and blocked exits, Ross.”
“I said I would, didn’t I? Don’t worry about it. I wanted to arrange it sort of like a maze this time. Can’t believe he’s actually following the exact path.”
Max shook his head. “Like a rat in a maze. Not that he has a choice. There’s only two ways into this place. At least he’s changing it up and trying the back door.”
I chuckled. “Three ways, if you count a broken window. But we know how that worked out the last time.”
The thug tested the door. A rattle came from the back room, matching his movements. He pushed it open. We all hit the floor.
“Did you leave the door unlocked this time?” Johnny hissed. “What were you thinking?”
Roscoe shoved his glasses back up his nose, lopsided after our sudden move. “I didn’t, I swear. They must be sending the smarter ones. Thugs with unlocking spells, maybe.”
I glanced between the three faces, bathed white by the glow of the security feed. “What the hell do we do? We can’t kill him.”
There wasn’t much I could do in my state, in fact. As far as I knew, Bakunawa was still asleep inside my body. Or my soul. I never did figure that part out. Side effect of ingesting so much water and saving my life, and Max’s, among others. But it also meant I had no dragons to call on.
“I could make him crap his pants.” I pushed myself up, kneeling instead of lying prone on the floor. “Fear hex, straight into the brain.”
Max grabbed my wrist, protective, possessive. “No way in hell. They’re sending in people with actual magic now. Who knows what else he has in his arsenal?”
“This trap was supposed to be like a bucket of water over the door.” Roscoe raked his fingers against his scalp, shaking his head. “It would have covered him in muck, made him stink for days. Except it didn’t trigger. Why didn’t it trigger?”
“Not helpful right now, sweetheart.” Johnny rose from the floor, rolling up his sleeves, revealing his strong forearms as well as his incredible collection of tattoos. He cracked his knuckles. “No choice, then. I’ll knock his lights out, make him regret coming to this — hey. What’s that on the screen?”
A dark blur streaked in through the open back door. Another Brillante hire? And a more powerful one, at that. The others leapt to their feet, practically elbowing each other as they hustled toward the back room. I took a quick moment to review the footage, scanning back a few seconds.
I smiled. I recognized that shock of wavy black hair. That was definitely someone on the Brillante payroll. But this person was on our side. I went over to join the others, unhurried because I knew the first thug was in big trouble, but still moving fast enough so I wouldn’t miss the fireworks.
We arrived in the corridor leading to the back exit. The man in the dark clothes and the balaclava pulled over his head froze,but only for a moment. His hand fell to his hip. Was he reaching for a gun? Preparing a spell?
Roscoe muttered a string of words in a language I didn’t understand. Johnny waved his hand, conjuring a floating array of needles. And Max held his hands up, his diamond daggers at the ready. Hot. Very hot.
And me? Again, I didn’t have much that could help. But we wouldn’t be needing any extra help.
It was too late when the thug noticed the rapid footfalls coming up behind him, the approach of heavy boots. A final step and his pursuer left the ground entirely, leaping into the air and kicking him with both feet at once.
Max screamed first. “Tina, you fucking killed him!”
“Did she dropkick him?” Roscoe sputtered, forgetting his spell words entirely. “Oh, God, I think she dropkicked him. Right in the back.”
“I heard a crack.” Johnny dismissed his needles, eyes wide with worry. “Did anyone else hear a crack?”
The thug groaned. At least we knew he was still alive. Kneeling on his back, triumphant and smirking, was one Guillotina Hernandez.
“You assholes never invite me to your dumb little midnight parties. I only knew because I sensed Max was in the area.” She bent low, speaking just by the thug’s ear. “Hey. New fish. Who sent you? And who gave you your magic?”
She tugged on his arm, wrenching it against his back in a painfully unnatural position. The thug lifted his head as far as it would go and howled.
“No magic! They gave me a key. That was all. It’s in my pocket.”
Tina wrenched on his arm again. “Which one? I swear if I find anything gross down there — if this is giving you some weird boner, I will rip your dick off.”
