An Incident of Magic Kris Michaels Patricia A. Knight Sold at the age of twelve to support his mother’s drug habit and rescued from a life on the streets by a cop, thirty-two-year old Tony Locke had had a brutal start in life. He’d risen to the position of homicide detective in the Everlight Police Department—a testament to his intelligence and driving ambition to help other victims of Everlight's prolific industry in sex and drugs. With his promotion to the hush-hush Interdimensional Task Force, he could broaden his reach—if he could just get along with his a-hole of a partner. Leo Fortan labored under a soul-crushing burden of sacrifice, trapped in a lonely and rigid existence. Hand-picked from that existence and assigned to the Interdimensional Task Force, he thought his life had taken a turn for the better—until he met his partner, Tony Locke. Leo thought it probable they would kill each other. For a man who thought love didn’t exist and a man who’d sacrificed everything for it, finding common ground may require more than an incident of magic.
www.trollriverpub.com An Incident of Magic Everlight Book 2 Copyright Š 2017 Kris Michaels, Patricia A. Knight ISBN: 978-1-946454-16-4 No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, with the exception of a reviewer who may quote passages in a review, without written prior permission from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, incidents and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence. Join the fun with Author Kris Michaels for giveaways, updates and new release opportunities at: http://eepurl.com/7OXdr
Dedication Kris Michaels I’d like to dedicate this work to everyone who has fought for the right to love. It is dedicated to those who have yet to find their happy ever after, and to those who are blessed enough to have found the love of their life. As always, to the man I love, thank you for your support, trust and encouragement.
Acknowledgements Kris Michaels To my co-author, Patricia A. Knight, girl thank you for putting up with my insanity and working around my schedule! Writing with you is fun and I love the stories we create. To Rebbeca B. and Allison H., my beta readers, thank you for the time you expend to help make my stories wonderful. Jay Aheer’s covers for this series are the embodiment of our vision and her talent is beyond amazing. And last, but definitely not least my heartfelt thanks to our Publisher, Stephanie. She took a leap of faith and published my stories. I will always be grateful for your never ending support, patience and advice.
Chapter One Shit. Shit. Shit! Tony Locke slid on the slimy pavement, barely missing decapitation by the edge of the dumpster. The stench and clutter of the back alley separated him from his partner and left him in lone pursuit of the bastard they’d been tracking for weeks. He jumped a stack of cardboard boxes and pounded down the alley. A quick glance up at the Everlight sky almost cost him, but he vaulted the fence that appeared out of nowhere and landed hard. His legs and lungs screamed for mercy, but he wasn’t going to lose that son of a bitch. Ten years as a beat cop and five as a detective in Everlight hadn’t prepared him for the perp he was trying to keep up with. He shot a glance heavenward just as the bastard laid out in a perfect swan dive and flew from one rooftop to the next. Mother fucker! Tony slammed into the corner of the building and shot down the alleyway catching glimpses of the Flying Zelda wannabe as he scaled walls, did gymnastic turns-and-twists in midair and laughed. Yeah, the bastard was laughing. Fucker. The man latched onto a bar suspended between two buildings and swung around the damn thing in a huge loop with straight arms and pointed toes. Keep showing off, you asshat. I’ve almost got you. His anger forced him to dig deep and run harder after the interdimensional sex slaver. His muscles thrummed with every ounce of hatred-fueled power he could muster. The guy let go of the bar and did a couple flips on his way to the ground. Halle-fucking-luia. Equal playing ground. Got you now, you son of a bitch! His thighs burned, and his lungs threatened to explode, but he was going to catch that guy or die trying. The shadowed figure cut hard to the right and vanished around the corner of a building. Tony was five feet behind the asshole and gaining ground. He slammed around the blind corner—and ate a fucking brick wall.
* Leo Fortan a/k/a “Silk” glared at the unconscious, slumped form of Tony Locke and snarled. Dumb shit. He’d told him not to engage, but as usual, the man pounded ahead barking orders as if Silk was a fresh cadet instead of a seasoned expeditionary operative who packed over one hundred years of in-the-field experience into his XXL tac vest. He couldn’t leave his partner—no matter how loosely he applied the term “partner”—out cold and unprotected in this cesspit. The man would be dead within the hour. There was no love lost on law enforcement in this sewer of a reality. His lips curled, and he spat into the alleyway before he bent, collared Locke by the back of his jacket, and jerked him to a sitting position against a brick wall. He crouched in front of the man and studied Locke’s face. Ouch. From the angle of his nose, Locke had hit the closed portal headon with enough force to either dislocate his nose or break it. Naw. Broken. No way it would lay all smashed against his cheek without being broken. A wide gash on Locke’s forehead bled like a son-of-a-bitch, and a large lump had formed above his right eyebrow. He studied the man’s mangled face for a few seconds, considering. Better now than when the swelling turned his
handsome face into a cantaloupe. Shit. Locke wouldn’t thank him. What the hell. He was the one who had to look at the man. And I do enjoy looking at him. He slammed that thought back into the past where it belonged and grunted at himself in disgust. Had he learned nothing from the holy fathers? With his thumb and forefinger, he pinched and pulled the bridge of Locke’s nose straight. He shuddered at the crunching he both felt and heard. Definitely broken. A couple of repetitions of the same action and the homicide detective’s nose began to resemble its original shape. Locke moaned and swiped at his hand. Silk blocked his gesture with a forearm. “Yeah, yeah. It hurts. Better than resembling a dog that chased a parked car.” He snorted. “Something you’d probably do if you were a dog.” “I heard that, asshole.” Locke groaned and attempted to raise a hand to his face. Silk batted it away. “Don’t do that. I just got it straight.” His partner’s eyes opened then closed again. Blood streamed down his face and dripped off his chin onto a widening stain on his lap. Each splat made a larger pool of dark crimson on Locke’s jeans. Silk growled. “I’m sure it escaped your notice, but our perp was Elysian. I had a chance to shadow a known transporter—the first we’ve gotten close to in over a month—and see who he reported to, but you had to play hero and engage in a solo foot pursuit.” Silk sprang up from his crouch and stepped back to escape Locke’s blind hand chop. “Whoa, there. Just telling it as it is.” He probed Locke’s hip with the tip of his boot. When the man opened his eyes again, he extended his hand. “You need medical for your self-inflicted injuries.” He shrugged when Locke ignored his offer. “Suit yourself.” He strolled away toward their vehicle. “You’re a fucking asshole, Fortan!” Locke’s nasal shout echoed on the brick in the narrow alleyway. You have that effect on me, pretty boy. He chuckled to himself all the way to their unmarked. He pulled open the car door, slid into the driver’s seat and crossed his eyes at the lingering odor. The damned vehicle reeked of Locke’s pungent digestive emissions—an unfortunate result of a lunch that consisted of feta cheese broccoli rolls. To say the goat cheese and vegetable combo hadn’t agreed with his partner’s gut would be an understatement. Happily, he hadn’t participated. He picked up the mic and called in a 10-85. “State the nature of the delay India Two,” the dispatcher’s voice droned through the car radio. “Advise the captain that Detective Locke needs medical attention. Suspect was not apprehended.” If he weren't in such a piss-poor mood, he’d enjoy the explosion resulting from that bit of information. Hell, maybe now they’d listen to him. He shook his head in frustration. He and Locke couldn’t be further apart on how to conduct this investigation. He wanted to shadow the trafficking suspects back to Elysium and determine who sent them to Everlight. Capturing the go-betweens did nothing to set back the ongoing trade in human flesh and a particularly pernicious drug with the misleading name of Angel Wings. The runners were easily replaced. Arresting their bosses, or better yet, the boss of their bosses would go much further toward permanently dismantling the operations.
Locke wanted to apprehend the transporters, interrogate them and set up a raid on the locations in Everlight where the kidnapped victims were held. A colossal waste of time as far as he was concerned. He conceded that Locke’s whining about his non-cooperation held some truth. He hadn’t cooperated, but then Locke hadn’t even considered working the case from his angle. With what Silk was beginning to consider Locke’s MO—everything the man did lacked thorough planning—Locke had charged off, engaged in an ill-conceived cowboy shootout, screamed at him to chase the perp down, then stormed after the suspect and KO’d himself. Silk’d had to abandon his stealthy pursuit and watch the perp vanish through a transient portal into Elysium. Yeah, he had a few things he wanted to say to Kavaliro and Chief Hocinka about his Everlight ‘partner,’ like, how soon could he be reassigned? The passenger door swung open, and Locke collapsed onto the car seat. Silk dug into a pocket on his tactical vest pulled, out an emergency trauma kit and offered it to Locke. “Should be some gauze pads in there.” The man crossed his arms over his chest, glared straight ahead and muttered a nasal, “Fuck you,” that came out, “Nuck ooo.” “You’re getting blood on the upholstery.” “Nuck ooo.” “I’m taking you to the emergency room. Your forehead’s going to need stitches.” “Just drive.” “Your door’s still open.” With a groan, Locke leaned over and pulled the car door shut. “If you feel like puking, make sure you roll down the window.” Locke turned his bloody face toward Silk and snarled. With a chuckle, Silk started the engine, put the car in gear and drove to St. Mercy in blessed silence.
Chapter Two Silk drew a deep breath. “Respectfully, sir, the man’s a free radical. He’s unstable and infects others with his volatility. He is going to get someone killed. Detective Locke’s actions cannot be predicted and most often result in an exponential disaster similar to the debacle that occurred fortyeight hours ago. This time, for once, the only physical damage he did was to himself.” Silk stood in the task force office, ramrod straight, shoulders back, legs spread, arms behind his waist, one hand clasping his wrist. His eyes were focused somewhere over the shoulder of Santiago Kavaliro, his former field director from the reality of Elysium before he took his position on the White Council, but now a co-chair for the inter-dimensional task force based in the reality of Everlight. He could feel the intent stares of Captain Hocinka, Kavaliro’s Everlight counterpart, and those of Detective Hiro Santos and his husband-slash-partner, the Elysium high wizard Sable Campion. Kavaliro glanced at Hocinka, and the man rolled his eyes. The muscles in Kavaliro’s jaw clenched and relaxed before he faced Silk again. “You have over a century of in-the-field operation, Agent Fortan. You have vastly more experience and maturity than Detective Locke. You came to me from the An Síoraí brotherhood by the Eternal’s sake! That Order is the definition of discipline!” Kavaliro cleared his throat, visibly relaxed, and continued in a more subdued tone. “This is on you, agent. I expect you to make this partnership work and not behave like some adolescent primadonna.” “Sir, the man—” The office door slammed open, and Tony Locke blew through it. He came to a violent halt in front of Hocinka, his arms braced in a wide V on the cluttered mahogany desk, and glared at the captain. “I refuse to work with him...” Tony threw his arm back and stabbed his finger in Silk’s direction, “...any longer. I demand a new partner or better yet, reassignment to another precinct. If you can’t get me out of working with him or transferred out, I’ll hand in my resignation. That son of a bitch doesn’t know the meaning of team player. He’s going to get someone killed—like me!” Hocinka glared at Tony, gave a low growl and pushed back in his armchair. “Get your fucking hands off my fucking desk, detective.” He waited for Tony to straighten. “From the looks of your fucking face, he doesn’t need any fucking help. You do a fine fucking job all by your fucking self.” His glare dared Tony to speak. Wisely, the man remained silent. Six fucks. Silk hadn’t been in Everlight for more than a day before he realized that Hocinka’s temperature could be taken by the number of fucks inserted in his sentences. He’d peg this man at a full boil. “At 9:30 a.m. the hospital called to say you were cleared to return to work.” He looked at his watch. “It’s now 11:30. Good of you to check in promptly.” Hocinka jerked his head in the direction of Silk. “Go stand next to your fucking partner.” At Tony’s indrawn breath, he pointed at Tony and snapped, “Not a word. Not one fucking word.” Tony turned sullenly and stood beside him, but not before he shot Silk a death-by-slow-torture glare. The man had two splendid black eyes. Wide white strips of adhesive tape held an aluminum
splint to the bridge of his nose, and a three-inch line of black stitches sprouted from a forehead swollen into a misshapen dome of purple, green and yellow. His partner’s normally perfect coiffure had a noticeable gap where a portion had been shaved away. Ooo...bet that hurt almost as much as the nose. He coughed into his fist and looked at his feet. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “Fuck you,” Tony whisper-hissed. Silk’s smile broadened into a grin which he immediately wiped clean when Kavaliro cleared his throat. “Gentlemen.” He snapped to attention. “Sir.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest and tossed off an insolent, “What?” Kavaliro’s face remained impassive, only a subtle arch of one eyebrow indicated any acknowledgment of Locke’s insubordination. Oh, this is gonna be good, Silk mused. This man has no instinct for self-preservation. Shit. I hope I’m not caught in the fall-out. The appalling thought wiped clean his rising sense of satisfaction. No...they couldn’t. Could they? “The owner of an Elysium sex house contacted us. He has information on some…” Kavaliro addressed Hocinka, “...I believe you call them ‘persons of interest’?” Hocinka nodded. “Locke, you and Agent Fortan are going to interview the owner. The man needs to keep a low profile and maintain his anonymity. He’ll contact you once you are in Elysium. Campion will open a portal in the time continuum—” “Wait a minute. Just wait a god-damn minute. What’s a time continuum?” Tony glared at Hocinka. “I missed the fucking class, okay?” The captain threw up his hands. “Kavaliro, will explain to this moron what the fuck is going to happen?” “We will send you through a portal in the time continuum, a doorway into another reality. The realities themselves are not warped. They are whole and complete as long as the time continuum is not torn. Realities sit beside each other only separated by time. It is one of the things that accounts for the difference in passage of time between Elysium, Everlight, and other realities.” Kavaliro eyed Tony. “Is that a sufficient explanation for the moment, Agent Locke? If I fully explained the astrophysics behind the anomaly, we’d be here for several days.” Tony grunted. “I guess so. Thanks.” Hocinka muttered something under his breath. Less than flattering to him, Tony guessed. “If I may continue?” Hocinka snapped. Tony shrugged a yes. He still didn’t get the total picture, but he’d feel stupid if he pushed it further. “Campion will open a portal in the time continuum and zap you through. You’ll initiate contact, interview the party and familiarize yourself with the area. After seventy-two hours, Campion will open a portal at the exact location and time where you were dropped, and you will return to Everlight. Oh, and Detective Locke...maintain a low profile, please, and try to stay in one fucking piece.” Hocinka glared at Tony. “Gonna be a little hard to remain low profile like this.” Tony gestured at his face.
Hocinka grunted. “Campion.” Hocinka waved at Tony. “Your move.” The elegant wizard rose gracefully from his chair. Silk had forgotten that Campion and Detective Santos were in the room. Detective Santos, Campion’s life partner, if the rumors were true, bristled and watched with jealous eyes as the high wizard moved forward a few steps and stood face-to-face with Tony while the idiot grinned and made a show of checking Campion out. Campion’s physical allure made his cock twitch in interest, but there was no way under the Eternal he’d ever consider taking an Imperium Magus as a lover. They reeked of dangerous power, too much danger, too much power, too...just, too… Hiro Santos must have balls the size of melons. Silk evaluated Santos in a glance. Yeah, Santos was the type that would. The man glared back at him. Yeah, yeah, we get it. The wizard’s yours. Welcome to him. “Tony Locke, do you grant me permission to make physical changes to your body that will result in your healing?” Campion’s melodic voice filled the room. Tony drew back. “What? What changes?” “He wants to fix your fucking face, you dumb fuck. Say yes,” Santos growled. “Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” Tony shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” The wizard laughed softly. “I thought I had. Please remain still. This won’t hurt.” Campion extended his right hand, covered Locke’s face with his palm and splayed fingers and chanted in a sing-song that Silk recognized as one of Elysium’s ancient languages. As he watched, Locke and the wizard began to glow and shimmer. Their outlines blurred, and their bodies became insubstantial. The intensity of the light grew so great, he covered his eyes and looked away. Almost as quickly as the radiance had grown, the brilliance died, and the room returned to its normal state. Locke adjusted himself and swore softly. “I feel like I’ve mainlined Viagra. That’s supposed to fix my face?” Campion chuckled. “The arousal will fade. More important, your face is better than new.” Tony felt his face with a startled exclamation. “What the…!” Silk eyed Tony, and the wizard had spoken the truth. He was back to being the irritating heartthrob Silk had first met. His eyes dropped to the bulge in the man’s jeans. Damn. Impressive. He snorted in self-derision. And impossible. “I still can’t fucking get used to that,” Hocinka grumbled. “It’s fucking unnatural.” Campion brushed back the fall of fine white hair that slipped over his shoulder and smiled. “In your reality, perhaps. Elysians consider this ordinary.” He returned to stand next to his partner. Santos leaned into him and whispered something inaudible. The wizard gave him the sweetest smile and nodded with a murmur, “I’m fine, my love.” A pang echoed through Silk. He might not want the wizard...but he wanted what the man had—a partner, a true partner in every sense of the word. What would it be like to be able to love someone real and tangible and have that love returned both physically and emotionally? What would it be like not to have to hold himself apart and celibate simply to honor a spiritual ideal? In truth, the thought that physical comfort and understanding from another human might be possible had been the driving motivation behind accepting Kavaliro’s offer of this assignment in Everlight.
If Locke was an example of what this reality had to offer, however, he might have been better off remaining a holy warrior in the service of the Eternal. “Thank you, Imperium Magus. You and Detective Santos are free to leave.” With a tiny smile on his face, Kavaliro nodded at Santos and Campion and then turned to address Silk and Locke. “Gentlemen… the two of you will reassemble in the break room at 0630 hours tomorrow. High Wizard Campion will create the portal and transport you. You may leave.” He and Tony—the man was still feeling his face as if he didn’t believe the evidence of his fingers—turned to the door. Before he could exit, Kavaliro dropped a hand on Silk’s shoulder. “A moment, if you would.” “Sir?” “Pack two field ready-kits. One for you and one for Locke. Bring them with you tomorrow morning. That’s all. You’re dismissed.”
*** Hocinka eyed Kavaliro and sighed. “I hope this works. These two need to learn to fucking work together.” Kavaliro took out a cigar and made a production of lighting it. After a long toke, he held Hocinka with a thoughtful gaze. “In the world I’ve instructed Campion to send them to, they will learn to work together... or die.” Hocinka drummed his fingers on his desk. “I can’t afford to lose another fucking police officer. Besides, that kid has grown on me like mold.” Kavaliro squinted at the captain through a cloud of smoke. “The environment is not nearly as dangerous as Leo Fortan. He will bring Tony home—alive.” “Huh… good to know.” He cleared his throat and addressed Kavaliro tentatively. “So... have you told Hiro that your wife left you because of him?” “She didn’t leave me because I have a mixed-breed son. Hiro is just her latest excuse to claim injury against me. The woman had left years before I bought Hiro’s mother.” Kavaliro studied his cigar, his face impassive. “I believe my brother now supports her.” “The two of you still married?” Kavaliro snorted softly. “Yes. Elysium does not recognize divorce.” Hocinka grunted and looked out the window. “You got a place to stay in Everlight yet?” Kavaliro sighed. “Too many to choose from. None have any appeal.” “Well, why don’t you start with Marge and me? She makes a mean macaroon cookie.” Kavaliro’s face lightened subtly. “My household includes my ‘man of affairs’. He’s indispensable. I won’t be parted from him. Do you have room for two of us?” “Hell, yeah. The more, the merrier.”
Chapter Three Even though he was early, Silk wasn’t the first to the break room the next morning. “Here.” Silk tossed a bulging backpack toward Tony. The man held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, a donut in the other and simply stepped out of the way as the black bundle hit the floor at his feet. “What do I need that for?” he said around a mouthful of pastry while reaching for another. “Kavaliro said to prepare one for you, so I did. You’re welcome.” His partner simply snorted. Silk examined his face. The wizard had done well by Tony. He was even prettier than before. “I’d go easy on the donuts and coffee.” Tony glared at him, stuffed his second donut into his mouth and washed it down with several slugs of coffee. He opened his mouth to reply with what Silk was sure would be something cutting when Imperium Magus Campion strolled through the doorway looking entirely too pulled together for 6:30 in the morning. The man resembled a model for Armani, even in work boots, battered jeans and a gray Henley. “Good morning.” He nodded at Silk and smiled at Tony. “How are you feeling today?” “Ah...good. Thanks. I’m good.” “If the two of you will stand in front of me.” Silk shrugged into his pack and obeyed the wizard’s directive. Tony took a place to his right. “Brother Leo, if you would please put your hand on Tony’s shoulder.” Tony smirked at him and mouthed, “Brother Leo?” Silk closed his eyes and sighed. Would it be considered murder if he strangled the man? The wizard nodded and with a warm smile, murmured, “Ready?” Campion held Silk’s gaze with what looked like apology as he reached forward and placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “I’m doing as requested, Brother Leo. Remember that. Mark your entry point carefully. Be back at that location in seventy-two hours. There will be an open portal for your return.” Before he could voice the concern Campion’s caution created, a tingling started in his feet and then shit got really strange. He hated this part. The disorientation was complete and had it lasted any longer than a few seconds, he would have lost everything in his stomach. Happily, because he’d done this many times before, his stomach had been empty since the previous night. Intense cold and a bitter, howling wind snapped him out of the transport nausea. He stood knee deep in snow on a surface barren of life. He knew exactly where he was and it wasn’t Elysium. Shit. Gelida Terram. A world of treacherous life forms and perma-ice. If one didn’t kill you, the other would. The wind bore the sound of his partner retching his guts up, and he turned to locate Tony. Ice pellets stung his face and the wind froze the tears on his cheekbones as fast as his eyes formed them. Shit. They had to find shelter. Fuck it. In thirty minutes they would both be dead of hypothermia. He followed the sound of retching and almost stumbled over his partner hunched over in the snow. He reached down and jerked Tony to his feet. “Get up. Get up.” For once, his partner cooperated—or perhaps he was just too ill to resist—as Silk wrapped an arm around him, and they staggered against the wind to a depression in a rocky outcropping. He pulled his partner down into a squat, and they huddled together against the rock. Silk’s eyes swept
the rock formation that sheltered them and groaned. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or curse. From hard-won experience, he knew the gaping darkness behind them would extend into the mountain of hard rock for miles and provide them shelter of a sort—if its inhabitant didn’t eat them first. The wind and frozen pellets no longer pummeled them, but the cold was lifethreatening. First things first, then they must find the worm before it found them. “Fuck!” Tony groaned. “Sable made a huge fucking mistake. Where in the hell are we? Get us back!” Silk shook his head. “This wasn’t a mistake. Wizards of Campion’s stature don’t make mistakes like this. He said he’d been directed to send us here. Where’s your backpack?” “Where do you think it is? On the floor of the break room. What do you mean not a mistake?” He looked heavenward. Great Eternal, why? Just tell me why? I’ve served you faithfully for over a century. I observe all the holy ways. What have I ever done to deserve this fool? He shook his head and shrugged out of his backpack. Digging through one of the zipper compartments he dragged out a packet and unfolded it. He handed one edge of the flimsy metallic sheet to Tony. “Here, hold this. I’m going to wrap both of us in it. Not ideal, but it’s the best I can manage right now.” Tony eyed him skeptically. “What the fuck, dude? Seriously? That shit isn’t thick enough to stop a fucking breath let alone this gale. In case it has escaped your notice, we are going to freeze to death here. Soon! Get us back to Everlight.” Silk literally bit his tongue, counted to ten, counted to ten again and then consciously relaxed every muscle in his shaking body before replying, “Our orders require we remain here for seventytwo hours. I’m sharing my thermal blanket with you because yours is in your backpack back in Everlight.” Tony crumpled the thin, metallic fabric in his hand. “This is a thermal blanket?” “Yes,” Silk snapped as he proceeded to engulf both of them in a cocoon of paper-thin material. Tony huddled underneath the glorified mylar and groaned at the invading warmth radiating under the material. “Why can’t you get us back? Just do that portal thing like Sable did.” “You didn’t listen to a thing Hocinka said, did you? Our orders are to remain here for seventytwo hours, leaving isn't an option. And, for your information, pretty boy, not everyone from Elysium is a wizard.” Seriously, he was screwed. If the man was nothing but a mountain of muscle was there any reason for Hocinka to saddle him with the asshat? A gust of cold wind pushed under the seethrough tinfoil and Tony shivered violently. There was no way they were going to survive for seventy-one hours and thirty some-odd-minutes in this icebox No. Way. “Really? Then why the fuck are you assigned with me on the task force?” Pretty boy? Really? Why in the hell did that comment stick in his mind? “I’ve been asking myself that for months. I think I pissed someone off.” “You? Fuck, no...never. Not you. How would that be possible? That would mean you’d have to actually talk.” Tony rolled his eyes and squinted through the almost transparent foil. The ice pellets made a distinct tinkling noise as they slammed into the mounding banks of ice. A dark
black ledge formed an upside-down U over them, almost like they were in the mouth of a tunnel. He turned his head and peered into nothing but blackness. Huh, maybe they’d stumbled into some kind of cave. The ground shuddered underneath them, and he leveled a stare at his asshole partner. “What was that?” The ground shuddered again, the duration and the intensity longer and far stronger than the first tremor. “Fuck!” At Silk’s vehement whisper, a slice of fear speared through Tony the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since...fuck...since he’d been… Silk brought his finger up to his lips stalling his thoughts. This time, when a tremor rumbled beneath them, a high pitched wail rose from the darkened interior of the cave. “What the fu…” Silk slapped a hand over his mouth. The side of the blanket the man was holding down whipped violently in the wind. Tony held on tightly to the material to keep it from blowing away. His partner’s lips brushed his ear, his whisper so soft Tony barely heard the words. “If you want to live, do exactly as I say.” Tony pulled away a few inches and stared straight into the gray eyes of his partner. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but he read nothing but gravity in the man’s expression. Tony nodded once, shoved aside his rising dread and hardened his resolve. He’d do his part. For once, he’d listen to Silk and play by his partner’s rules. God, he hoped he wouldn’t live to regret it. “When I tell you, stand up and move to the middle of the tunnel opening. Keep wrapped up in the blanket, or you’ll freeze to death.” Tony swallowed hard and nodded again. Silk nodded and reached behind himself, messing with the backpack. Tony couldn’t see what he was doing. Silk gripped something in his left hand and whispered, “Now... get in position.” He wrapped the blanket around himself and slowly unfolded from his tucked position. He rose and pulled the blanket off Silk. The man swore viciously and wrapped his arms close to his sides. The cold made the effort to move harder than he thought possible. His feet were frozen blocks of numb flesh making the small trek to the opening difficult. When he reached the center of the mouth of the cave, he gritted his teeth and held back a groan as wind pounded ice pellets against his skin. The needle-like projectiles forced him to turn his head to avoid exposing his face to the onslaught. Silk, bent almost in half, crept past him into the darkened area of the cave. A massive gray form took shape out of the darkened tunnel. Suddenly the man stood and let loose with a bloodcurdling war cry. The ground immediately shook underfoot. Silk screamed again and dropped into the darkness. A twenty-foot high ball of writhing interlocking plates of armor opened suddenly, gnashing multiple rows of massive serrated teeth and releasing an epic stench of hot breath. Above the teeth blinked three bloodshot eyes that locked onto him. The...thing...pulsed, shaking the plates of armor with a sound that could have been mistaken for thunder. The ground vibrated violently again, nearly knocking Tony to his knees. His mind screamed, “Run!” but his body stood frozen as the thing pulsed again and advanced on him with a screech that sounded like a metal plate being rendered in two. Tony put one foot behind the other as the reality of what Silk had done broke through his paralysis. The fucker. Silk had used him as bait.
He knew the man hated him, but the SOB had set him up to be that thing’s dinner. Not fucking happening. He’d rather freeze to death. Tony clung to the blanket as he turned and, as fast as his frozen feet would carry him, sprinted out of the cave. His lungs burned from the effort to run. The deep banks of snow pellets moved and shifted under his unstable feet. Even through the ice storm that raged, he could hear the monster’s hideous screeches. He slipped on an ice-covered rock and went down hard. His knee and ankle twisted at an unnatural angle as he slammed into the frozen ground between two rock ledges and swallowed a scream. He freed his leg and rolled, stuffing himself under a ledge. The pain in his ankle and wrenched knee cut through even the misery of the cold. Shit. His fucking ankle felt broken. He pulled the blanket he still gripped closer around him and stared at the ice pellets as they filled in the crevice in front of him. He was going to fucking die. Silk had sacrificed him. A tear formed and froze immediately, locking his lashes together. What had he expected? Life had taught him this lesson long ago. He’d hoped it wasn’t true, but bottom line, he’d always been disposable.
∞ Thank you for reading an excerpt of An Incident of Magic. If you would like to continue reading, please purchase a copy at your favorite retailer: https://books2read.com/u/bOrwQQ