Crimes Against Magic (37 page)

I picked up the thrown baton and went to check on the first guard who'd been crushed by the flying door. It didn't take long to figure out he was dead, the massive piece of wood sticking out of his chest was a giveaway. I left the body alone and took a look at the baton. I'd not seen one in years, but remembered that they hurt like a bitch. I touched the switch on the handle and the baton hummed to life, the small Tesla coil it contained made the baton turn slightly blue. I switched it off and tossed it to the floor. I didn't like using them, and the last time I'd heard about them they'd had some teething problems. 

The one thing their use told me, though, was that Mordred wanted me alive. Otherwise, the guards would have opened fire and been done with it. That gave me the advantage, because I certainly wasn't about to show his guards the same level of stupidity.

No one else bothered me as I walked down the corridor, which surprised me as I'd expected a little resistance. I turned a corner toward the lifts and found the mystery lady from the phone standing in front of them. She held a katana in her hands, the tip pointing toward the floor in a casual way. The second she saw me, the sword was lifted and pointed directly at me. "This is where I have to stop you," she said.

I didn't move. "Do you have a name? Your real name, I mean?"

"Anne," she said. "My real name is Anne."

"So, Anne, I assume your daughters were taken from you long ago."

"Ten years," she said with more than a touch of anger and sadness. "Both have forgotten about me. But they are my daughters, and I will not let them come to harm."

"Mordred threatened to kill them if you didn't go back to working for him?" 

She nodded. 

"You really want to fight me? You do know what I used to do for a living, right?"

"You're a spy, assassin, basically whatever was needed. I know I can't beat you."

"I assumed Mordred would want to keep you out of harm's way."

"He's more concerned about saving his own skin." Her words were loaded with hate. "If I kill you, then he wins. If not, then he still gets away to safety. But if I don't try, he will kill my daughters."

 "Did you say good-bye to them?"

A single tear fell from Anne's eye, but she didn't even flinch to wipe it away. "I've not seen them since they were brought here."

"I'll make you a deal then. You go say good-bye to your kids. And I'll wait here. Then you can come back and die."

Her eyes grew cold. "I'll put up more of a fight than you can imagine."

"No doubt," I said nonchalantly. "But I can see half a dozen weaknesses in your stance. Three of which would permit me to move through your attack and strike with impunity. You'll be dead within...thirty seconds."

Anne looked shocked, and more than a little scared. "You can't know that."

"I can," I assured her. "Thirty seconds from your first attack, you'll be dead. How old are you?"

"A hundred and forty," she said. 

"But you're only a psychic, yes? So you're still basically fighting at a human efficiency. Peak human, no doubt, but still human." I took a step toward her. "I'm not. I fight at a level no human can hope to match. I'm better than any human fighter you've ever met. Thirty seconds and you die. Or you leave and go try to save your daughters. Maybe you live, maybe you die, but at least your last act would be to do something for those you love."

"Jenny thought you were worth saving."

"I will not forget what she did for me. Nor will I allow her death to be wasted." I pushed anger from my voice. I wanted to save that rage and hatred at what had been done to Jenny, for those responsible. I wanted it intact until I needed it. "And I will kill everyone involved. Including you, if you push me. Now decide. Stay and die a meaningless death, or for the first time do something with your life."

Anne held my stare, and a moment later lowered her sword. "Mordred will be heading to the roof to use his helicopter. Between there and here are maybe twenty men and Achilles. My daughters are two floors down. If I can't get them to safety, and if you survive, you must help them."

"I give you my word," I said. "Nothing on earth will keep me from them."

Anne pressed the lift call button before retrieving a card from her pocket and passing it to me. "This will get you access to the stairwell. They won't be expecting that."

I took the card and looked around. "Where's the stairwell?"

Anne pointed to a nearby door. "Go through there. It's designed to look like an office from the outside. But the stairs will take you where you need to go."

I took hold of the card but Anne refused to let go of her end. "You kill Achilles and Mordred, if you don't my daughters will always be in danger."

I nodded. Anne released the card and stepped into the open lift. "I'll hold you to your word. If you've lied, and I live through this, we'll be seeing each other again."

I smiled. "I'd expect nothing less," I said before the lift doors closed.

Chapter 38

Anne hadn't been wrong about Mordred's men not expecting me to take the stairs. No one was waiting outside the door at the top of the stairs, not even a lone guard. The corridor was filled with plotted plants and office doors, the contents hidden by blind covered windows. There was no natural sunlight—halogen lamps did the work of nature. The whole place felt sterile and claustrophobic.

"Hello," I shouted, hoping that at least someone might come investigate. My hope was answered when four guards appeared at the end of the corridor fifty feet away, each holding a baton. "Where's Mordred?" I asked. 

One of them radioed to his friends whilst the other three rushed me.

A two foot long blade of blazing fire extended from my hand, cleaving through the first guard's neck as soon as he reached striking distance. I darted under the arterial spray and caught the second guard in the chest. The blade sliced through the bulletproof vest as if it wasn't there, killing him just as fast as his now dead friend. The blade vanished as the third guard reached me, and I moved the dead guard's body to take the impact of the massive electric shock that the baton delivered. The dead guard danced slightly as I shoved him aside and slammed the remade blade of fire into my would-be-attacker's throat. 

The fourth guard had finished on the radio and was obviously more intelligent than the first three combined as he stood back and watched with a mixture of shock and terror. 

"Where's Mordred?" I asked as my blade vanished from my arm once more.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He had the fear of a man who had just seen his three armed friends decimated in a matter of seconds, and who realised that he could end up the exact same way. I sighed and walked toward him, batting the baton aside and slapping him across the face, hard enough to knock him to his knees with a split lip. "Mordred," I said again. "Where is he?"

"That's not your concern," said a voice from the end of the corridor, which got my immediate attention. "You won't get to see him."

"Achilles," I said, and watched the frightened guard run over to the gargoyle. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't a warm welcome. The gargoyle grabbed the young guard and snapped his neck, throwing him aside like he was nothing. "I've had enough of incompetent guards. Mordred only hires humans because they're cheap, and he knows they won't try to take his power. But I say he could do better."

I walked backwards; down the corridor, and Achilles stalked toward me, never allowing the distance to grow between us. He was followed by a dozen guards, all of whom appeared rather pleased with themselves. Not one of them gave their dead comrades’ bodies so much as a glance. It was as if they weren't even there. In some cases the new guards actually stepped onto their bodies as they walked toward me. It was one of the creepiest things I'd witnessed in a long time. 

"Since when has a gargoyle needed a cheerleading squad?"

Achilles glanced behind him. "Who am I to turn away people who want to see me work?" The men jeered and howled with laughter and menace, attempting to put me off. In the confined space of the corridor, it made more sound than I'd have thought possible with such a small group.

"The real Achilles was the greatest warrior who ever lived, and you choose that name? Think pretty highly of yourself, don't you?"

Achilles smiled. "I
am
the greatest warrior who has ever lived. No one can beat me."

I chuckled and shook my head. "You're not fit to use Achilles' name, hell you're not fit to be mentioned in the same breath as him." Achilles' face contorted with rage, so I continued. "You're a pale imitation of him. I've never even met the original, he died well before my time, but I still know he'd be ashamed to discover that his name was being used by a jumped up little prick who thinks being able to bully and murder people entitles him to use the name of the world's greatest warrior. You're not the world's greatest anything. You're just a joke."

Achilles roared. None of his cheer squad made a sound. I was willing to bet that any noise they made might mean Achilles' rage would be turned on them. "I have never lost in battle!" he shouted. 

"Whom have you ever fought to truly test yourself? All I know of is a bunch of human women, some children and those who were unable to defend themselves against a gargoyle. You're just standing on the shoulders of greatness."

"I beat you," he said with a sadistic smile.

My laughter seemed to make him even angrier. "When? The first time you got one of your thugs to shoot me, and the second you blew yourself up with a car bomb. Yeah, really good record you have against me."

A rumble started inside him "I. Am. Achilles," he roared.

I cracked my knuckles. "In that case, Achilles is about to get his ass kicked."

*****

My intention had been to piss Achilles off so much that he screwed up. Considering his first action was to charge at me, head on, without even changing into his gargoyle form, it was fair to say I’d succeeded.

What I hadn't counted on was how fast he was without needing to change. He made the distance between us quicker than I'd ever imagined, and I only just managed to dodge aside at the last second. He continued to run, unable to slow in time to turn back on me. 

 Gargoyles can maintain a human shell, although it's really just for show. Their weight and strength don't change no matter what their outward appearance suggests. The real benefits of changing are the armour and killing weapons in his wings and claws. The fact that he thought he could take me without changing meant he was either really confident or
really
stupid. 

I rolled back to my feet and for a brief moment was concerned that Achilles' cheer squad would try to attack me, but none of them had moved an inch. It was probably unwise for them to get involved when Achilles was fighting, he didn't strike me as caring about friendly fire.

Achilles roared once more and charged. I darted aside just before he reached me, dropped to one knee, and slammed a dense-air covered palm into his stomach. I wrapped more air around my other hand, covering up to my elbow, and smashed a fist into his jaw. It must have been like being hit by a falling concrete slab. Achilles' head snapped aside and he fell to the floor with a huge crash, taking one of the potted plants with him.

"You still want to do this without changing?" I placed a little distance between myself and Achilles as he brushed the dirt off his arms.

He smiled and threw a huge punch, which was easily avoided, but his follow up jab to my ribs struck home, knocking the wind out of me. Instead of continuing, he backed off, grinning like an idiot. I rubbed my side, and prepared for whatever game Achilles was trying to play. 

He swung again, exactly the same as before, and once more hid his real punch behind the strength of the first. This time his left hand came up toward me, as I avoided the first haymaker, and tried to catch me on the jaw. But I anticipated it, and stepped into the blow, grabbing his arm just above his elbow and head-butting him on the nose, using a dense pack of air on my forehead to cause maximum damage. 

He swung his free hand at my head, but a second head-butt saw him drop the punch in mid-air and try to stagger away. I wasn't about to let him go that easily. I slammed my elbow into the bridge of his nose, and my knee into his stomach, giving him two more pieces of pain to consider.

Achilles bent forward slightly and I let go of his arm, dropped to a crouch, and smashed both of my hands into his solar plexus. I'd localised a tornado-like gale directly in front of my hands, and when it struck Achilles, the effect was more than a little dramatic. He lifted from the floor and soared a dozen feet back, hitting the nearest wall and going through it with ease, accompanied by the roar of the powerful gale. 

It took him only moments to reappear, silhouetted in a cloud of dust and brick. "You're better than I'd imagined," Achilles said, his voice filled with rage and hatred. "I won't make that mistake again." There was a ripping sound, and a pair of wings unfurled from his back. He flicked them slightly, before touching his face and ripping the skin from it, tearing off the pink, human shell and replacing it with hard stone. Red eyes burned from the darkness. "I'm going to kill you!" He launched himself toward me, destroying more of the wall as his wings crashed through and he landed only a few feet from me. 

I looked up at the stone monster and smiled. "I've killed gargoyles before. One more won't make much difference."

Achilles feinted with a punch, but instead kicked out at me. It was so fast and precise, that it was all I could do to raise a shield of air to absorb the force of the blow. And even then it was enough to lift me from my feet and dump me onto a weak wooden table, which collapsed beneath my weight. I rolled off and used air magic to whip the pieces of wood at Achilles who reacted exactly as I'd expected him to. He did nothing. In fact he laughed. Which meant he opened his mouth wide, allowing me to throw a ball of fire at his otherwise plated face.