Swift (Strangetown Magic Book 1) (8 page)

Out from the shade of the car towers, the sun hit me with renewed intensity, the brightness half blinding. I knew I should have brought a pair of sunglasses but they always made me look like I was trying to be cool rather than actually being cool. So I squinted instead, which is worse.

Where was he? He could be anywhere, gone, but I didn't think so. This was what gave him comfort, I was sure of it. His place, and I was on his territory, so I better tread carefully.

I jumped at a shifting of metal, reacting just in time as one of the towers came toppling down, tons of steel and plastic ready to smash my bones to bits. I did that stupid jogging backward thing, keeping an eye on the falling cars as I stumbled then gained my senses and turned and ran hell for leather as the wrecks smashed into the ground and dust billowed up, obscuring my way.

Running blind in the direction I had seen was clear, I kept going until I left the chaos behind. Then I took a few twists and turns, hopefully losing him as the game of cat and mouse took a drastic turn for the worse.

I ran smack bang into a wall of hell.

Bouncing off Pumi, easily a head taller than me and twice as wide, I ducked as a meaty forearm, hairy and livid with scar tissue, swung fast and hard at my head. So much for not hitting girls. Whatever happened to chivalry?

I swept for his legs but he jumped easily and kicked out at my head, foot so close I could smell the leather and got a mouthful of dust. Hands on the ground, I scrambled back and then sprang up as he ran at me, arms wide ready to hug me to death. No way. Swift by name, damn fast by nature. I ducked to his right, got a nice jab to the kidneys in—although it probably hurt me as much as it hurt him, it was like hitting one of the cars—then spun behind him, slamming my fist into a clump of nerves by his neck that didn't have the effect it usually had because it was so covered in muscle and healed skin.

He grunted, jabbed back with an elbow that hit me right between the breasts, and I saw red. Before I had time to consider my actions, I jumped on his back, bit his ear, and clawed at his eyes as magic did my bidding. I let it out in a mad rush that engulfed us both. All he did was grunt in annoyance.

The air displaced, and we froze for a moment, trapped in time as something unexpected happened. There was a resistance, a magic of his own battling against me and it was strong, just as cruel as mine. He swung me over his head but I landed well, on my feet, and faced him, his eyes taking me in properly for the first time, assessing me.

I felt fear then, my confidence almost shattered, as I understood the true nature of what I was facing. This was no mere shifter, this was almost like a wizard in the body of a man that seemed impervious to pain.

He ran at a group of cars on their sides so I followed, but he turned at the last moment, just as I was about to tackle him, so my body slammed against the undercarriage of one, only my magic acting as a barrier saving me from being knocked out cold. I crumpled and he stepped aside, staring at me with anger, eyes numb as if he'd seen it all and nothing could unsettle him. I was scared. He was like a cornered wild animal as he checked both ways for more attackers, then seemingly made up his mind and moved in for the kill.

This was it, the end. After all these years I meet my demise surrounded by crappy cars.

Not a chance. Sat there on the glass-covered ground, I hummed and felt the buzz build, noise clawing at my mind until I shut it down and turned up the volume on him. His hands went to his head and he screamed so I took the chance to summon up something dark from inside, enough magic now centered on my hands to kill him from this distance with a quick twist of the wrist and a clear focus of what the magic must do.

Shut down his heart. Energy would slam into him like a blast of electricity, disrupt the rhythm, and that would be that. No more life, no more fight. Just dead. It's the easiest and most effective way to kill a human being with magic. A jolt to the organs, sometimes the brain, change the flow of energy and they are meat.

Switching off the vibration in the air to focus the magic on his body, I screamed as he ran away, bent forward and low, head shaking and clearly half gone already.

No matter, I'd get him. He was mine now and there was nothing he could do to save himself.

I got up, dusted myself down, and went to finish the job.

Child Killer

"You killed a child. A child! There's no second chances. You know our ways, understand the punishment." He stared at me, like he was used to the hate—I guess he was. I felt sick to my stomach, starving hungry. My magic was dirty, taking me over and hurting me. This is what it does, the price you pay for being in our world. Use it for good, feel great, use it for dark deeds and your mind screams and you feel the disgust as the magic rises and consumes you, makes you as bad as those you deal with.

It makes me loathe them even more, for what they do to me, and hate myself because I do this job and I love it. I feel foul, rotten to the core, not just because of what I do but because I want it, need it, crave it, and can't leave the damn stuff alone.

I'm an addict.

Dark as pitch and as corrupt as those I deal with, but maybe worse. I have a choice, and I will never turn away from the Pool and the magic it offers because it completes me and makes me unclean and hateful as emotions that are buried scream to the surface for release. It's the only way I know how to feel truly alive.

So I screamed and probably chanted words that were pointless but made it badass and like I was in a movie and had an audience, but it was just us, Pumi and me in a dirty alley surrounded by rotting trash and rotten thoughts and deeds, where emotions seeped through the city and darkness filled my heart as I got ready to eliminate a child killer.

And then he turned into a monster. I had serious second thoughts about the whole thing and wondered if it was too late to run away and maybe change careers. Become something else, maybe something indoors with a desk, a couple of days off a year, hang around the water cooler and talk about dresses and hair with the gals.

The stink of rot, oil, and brake fluid was making breathing hard and I began to hyperventilate. My chest constricted. I was sure this was it, the big exit, time to meet the big guy and hope I'd done enough to get in His good graces.

Pumi swelled and kept on growing, like the Hulk but without the green or the monobrow. This was no smooth, musclebound Adonis, this was proper monster territory—he looked absolutely formidable.

Clothes ripped, muscles expanded, bones cracked and everything kept swelling. His head contorted, spasming as obscene lumps popped up like blisters. This was the elephant man come real. His already pumped traps came up to meet his ears, his chest split and spread, arms were like tree trunks, veins like rivers, tributaries crisscrossing his entire body as the layer of fat melted off and his skin was stretched taut.

Dirty denim jeans were shredded, falling away with the rest of his clothes, then the boxer shorts. I watched, absolutely freaked, as his thighs doubled in size and I could see every muscle fiber, like a bodybuilder that had overdone the dosage and couldn't stop growing. When I thought it was all over, and it couldn't possibly get any worse, he proved me wrong—he got the hell of all erections.

It would split me down the middle and it kept on expanding. He was a true monster and he would rape me, spear me to death and my magic wouldn't be up to the task of stopping him in my panicked state.

I had to get a grip or it was game over, but I couldn't breathe and I was wheezing now, my face turning purple as I clutched at my throat and the panic attack truly took hold. It's happened before, that rising tide of helplessness, but always over stupid things and usually after I've shut myself away for too long. I've been unable to go out, a strange fear gripping me, afraid of anything and everything, but I always push on through, and it fades and I am me again, the person I portray—hard and invincible.

But his body kept on cracking and getting stranger, and his penis was literally throbbing, all veiny and gross like it had a mind of its own. It was pointing directly at me. Sorry, I was going to skip this bit, but then I'd look like I was panicking over nothing, and trust me, it wasn't nothing.

Strong magic welled up and I regained control. I'm a mean as hell witch, and I wasn't about to be abused and killed by a child killing, freaky monster.

I was ready. My breathing slowed, my mind controlled my body, my magic, and it was ready to explode in an orgasm of release the likes of which Pumi had never known.

Here it comes, here it comes. Building, building. One. Two. Three, and—

"Wait," said the monster, but it was no longer a monster, it was Pumi, back as he was, a man. A naked man with a distracting erection that shrank as I stared—hey, it didn't look so bad now—and a body that no longer made you want to run for the hills and hide under a rock, cuddle up to a troll, and ask if it fancied a roomie.

The eruption was still there beneath the surface and I was certain I could deal with him now, especially as a regular looking human, but something stopped me, beyond his single word. It was the look in his eyes. A sadness, a vulnerability, a pleading not for lenience but for something else. For understanding. For a chance at redemption.

"Why should I, you sick freak?"

"Because I'm wrongly accused, and more than just a monster. You are being lied to. I'm innocent. What the hell is wrong with you? I could have ripped you to pieces in a moment."

And with those words my world came crashing down around me.

An Explanation

"Don't try to squirm your way out of this." He looked frail now, probably because of the change in size, and although he was an impressive man he looked defenseless in his nakedness, the signs of a hard life more than evident across his battle-scarred body.

I couldn't help thinking about what he had gone through all those years ago and what he had endured since. But this was an evil man, and I was a Justice.

"I swear, I'm innocent. Something is going on, something is wrong. I'm being made a scape-goat and I don't know why. What have I ever done apart from try to live my life? I just want to be left alone. The girl was my friend, I would never hurt her. Never!"

This was wrong, this wasn't how it was meant to go down. "What are you talking about? Why would anyone accuse you of something you didn't do? That's just stupid." I stayed focused on him as he sat on an upturned crate, covering his modesty with the rags of his clothes.

"I told you, I don't know. You've seen what I am, why people hate me, shun me, even my own kind. I'm a monster, I know it, but things aren't right. I'm telling you, someone is trying to cover up what I know."

"And what exactly do you know that is so important Fester would want you dead if it isn't because you killed a child?"

He frowned, thick skin furrowing like this was his normal face, not one that smiled or felt happy. Ever. He was like a bulldog in a cage, and I almost felt sorry for him. "Who's Fester?"

"Damn. You know, Levick, Queen's right-hand man. Chief Justice, helps our world stay clean of the likes of you." I hated Levick, but he was damn good at his job. Ultra efficient and his intel was always spot on.

Pumi's head snapped up in shock, full of anger and a glimmer of hope. "What's he look like?"

"Hell, dude, don't get out much, do you?"

"I get out plenty. What I don't do is have much in the way of dealings with those in charge. In case you hadn't noticed, I kind of do my own thing."

"So I've heard. Like killing kids and shunning everyone."

"Oh yeah, right, like I'm the one doing the shunning." Pumi stood, the modesty forgotten, and I couldn't help looking. There was something about him, like he drew you to him with his essence.

His naked body was very different to how he looked in clothes. He's big, and all muscle, but his body makes you want to cry. Written large across his torso is agony of the flesh. Veins were thick and wriggling, parts of him were slightly off, swollen lumps I guess maybe from all the changes into the monster and back again, but it was the brutality inflicted on him that made you stare, mouth open in shock and wonder that such punishment can be taken and survived.

"I never let them break me, however hard they tried," he said, noting me fixating on his upper thigh. It was a mess of scar, thick and a tangle of white and nasty red, scar upon scar upon scar and what looked like a serious case of burned flesh.

"What happened?" I couldn't believe it, I was having a chat with an evil killer, but something inside told me there was a lot more to this than I had expected.

"They peeled me, many years past, different life, back when I was in the arenas. I was good, so they handicapped me. Peeled a layer of skin before each tournament, and when that didn't work they cut me, and kept on cutting."

"Shit!"

"Long time ago, like I said." Pumi turned and walked to the side where there was a simple mattress and a few random bits and pieces.

"No funny business," I warned.

"Just getting some clothes, if you've seen enough?"

There wasn't much I could say to that so I watched, purely to keep an eye on him, as he dressed in jeans and a t-shirt he pulled from a large brown canvas rucksack. This wasn't going as planned at all, but that inner voice told me I could trust this man, this broken human being.

"Come on, spill it. If you've got something to say then say it." Was he making a fool out of me? Was my information totally wrong, and why ask about Levick?

"I was with this kid, an orphan. Little thing, all skin and bone, dirty blond hair that she kept brushing from her eyes and—"

"What, you wanted her?"

"Wanted her? Fuck, what is wrong with you? No, I helped her, at least I tried, but she saw something, wouldn't say what. And now she's dead."

"What could she have seen that would be so terrible? Nothing can be worse than the way things are now."