Chaos Unbound (The Metis Files Book 2) Read online

  Back across the room, Tolfin thundered toward Belphoebe in a blind rage, a score of arrows protruding from his massive arms and shoulders. However, Belphoebe easily avoided the creature’s ungainly lunge, and Tolfin flailed forward until he lost balance and went crashing into the far wall.

  I tracked Belphoebe’s movement with my guns, waiting for a clean shot, as she raced toward Gracen, who was now being held at knifepoint by the goblin-elf. Gracen’s eyes were wide, and his face was tight with surprise and shock. I had both guns trained on Belphoebe when all the action came to an abrupt halt. She laughed as if she were genuinely enjoying herself.

  “Stop where you are, traitorous scum, or your brethren die,” the Unseelie Huntress said to Duma, her eyes flashing briefly from me to somewhere behind me. I didn’t budge—not that I intended to take my eyes off her for even a second. “You, too, Diomedes—both of you drop your weapons. All of them, or he dies.”

  I could feel myself sneer in response. Negotiations with psychopaths, especially psychopathic fae, rarely lead anywhere productive. Belphoebe was standing far enough away from Gracen that I wasn’t concerned about hitting him if I fired at her. I knew Duma was also too accurate to miss a target in these tight quarters. And I was sure the half goblin would release Gracen the moment I took out Belphoebe.

  I dropped the gun in my left hand as a distraction then dove to my left, tucked into a roll, and came up on one knee as I fired three times into Belphoebe’s chest. I knew she was wearing armor, but I couldn’t risk firing at her head and missing after my tricky maneuver. Killing her would cause me even greater problems. I had to go center mass and hope for the best.

  The shots caught Belphoebe in her ribs under her right arm as she drew her bow. She faltered as she aimed at me, and the nocked arrow clattered to the ground. The force didn’t penetrate her cuirass, but it did drive the air from her lungs, causing her to double over and stagger back. She fell to one knee right as a long-bladed knife struck the half goblin in his nose, causing his eyes to roll back in his head as he collapsed to the ground like a boned fish, emitting a raspy gurgle as he fell. Gracen remained stock-still, only his fingers trembled as a small puddle grew at his feet.

  “Now that’s just nasty.” I picked up my other gun then walked toward Belphoebe.

  With one arm wrapped around her chest, breathing in rapid, shallow gasps, she mumbled something that sounded like “cheater.”

  “Maybe, but at least you aren’t dead.” I popped her on the back of her head and neck with the butt of my gun hard enough to knock her out and hopefully leave a nasty bruise that would remain for longer than an hour.

  “We should kill her now,” Duma said from behind me. “You know that.”

  “It’s the smart thing to do tactically, yes, but politically, it’d be the start of a shit storm of epic proportions and all but nail my coffin shut for these other deaths. Against my personal inclination, we’ll tie her up and leave her here.”

  Duma glanced at the puddle at Gracen’s feet and shook his head. “You know we can’t leave her here with Gracen and the others injured like this,” he said in a whisper. “Belphoebe will escape and kill anyone still around—especially this lot, which I will guarantee she would see as a mercy killing.”

  “Well, we certainly can’t take her with us. And since his buddies showed her where this place is, they probably shouldn’t stick around here anyway. Frankly, I’d burn the place down.”

  “I don’t understand…” Gracen said stammering. “Burn it down?”

  “Duma, check on Aislin and Tolfin,” I said, motioning behind me with my head as I kicked Belphoebe’s bow well out of her reach. “And, Gracen”—I clapped my hands to get his attention—“get me some rope.”

  I secured Belphoebe using some of my best mariner’s knots for good measure. Even after taking extra time, I didn’t expect her to remain tied up forever, but I hoped a few hours’ head start would be more than enough for our idiotic next move.

  Meanwhile, Duma made sure Aislin and Tolfin were okay. Aislin had taken the arrow to her midsection, roughly where a human’s kidney would have been, but I had no idea what, if anything, it hit in her. She seemed okay enough, though she did pass out when Duma broke the shaft of the arrow and pulled it through.

  Tolfin pulled the arrows from his body with little reaction. Once Aislin passed out, he carried her to the remains of the couch, laid her down gently, then sat at her side like an elephant-sized watchdog. I checked on them both then wrote Will “Geek” Elmsmore’s contact information on a scrap of paper, which I gave to Tolfin. He took it clumsily in his massive hand, his small eyes watery as he eyed Aislin, and I patted him on his shoulder.

  “You should get her out of here as soon as possible. Contact the person on that paper when you can,” I said to him. “He’ll help you, and I think you can help him, too. He’s a computer genius, and he knows about our kind. I trust him.”

  I hoped that Geek could use Tolfin’s skills somehow, maybe with codes or programming. As the current head of cybersecurity and the electronics expert for the Metis Foundation, if anyone could use and understand Tolfin’s skills, it would be Geek.

  The henchmen who had entered with Belphoebe were dressed like the guards I encountered on Poveglia, which I had assumed to be Dreaichbard. I had little doubt that Belphoebe had additional soldiers with her covering the area as backup, and we needed to get moving anyway. I stuck my tongue out at her bound form even though she was still unconscious. I didn’t care if she couldn’t see it; it made me feel better.

  “What was that all about?” Duma asked me as he walked up.

  “What was what?”

  “Never mind,” he said, lolling his head. “Tell me what you need for this invasion of Coronini, and I’ll get it for you by the time we arrive. Of course, I’ll have to use your phone to make the call.”

  “My phone… aw crap!” I hadn’t switched my phone on since we left Atlanta.

  I fumbled through the pockets on my vest to find it and switched it on. Twenty-three messages.

  They started with Sarah telling me she may have found something useful then rapidly progressed into panicked messages about being unable to reach me. It was nice to have someone worry about me, but given what I did for a living, that could preoccupy a professional team on a daily basis. Putting Sarah through that wasn’t fair of me. I sighed then handed the phone to Duma.

  “Make your call,” I said, shaking my head.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. Sarah’s been trying to contact me. She’s worried. I’ll call her as soon as I can, but we don’t have much time here. Pheebs has to have backup waiting for us outside. They won’t wait long before coming in to check.”

  “Oooh, Sarah’s worried, is she?” He wiggled his hips to mock me.

  “Shut up and focus, dammit. We’ll need more ammo, a couple of LAR-5 or -6s, or even LAV-7 rebreathers and dry suits. Oh, and a fast boat to meet us someplace like Kostolac across the river in Serbia. And a good map of Coronini, too.”

  “Man, that’s the Danube you want to swim in. It’s cold and, well, yuck.” Duma stuck out his tongue, retching.

  “I’m well aware.” Sarah’s many panicked messages had left me in no mood to jockey with him. “Just do it. We got a little time once we get there, though. No way in hell I’m putting a foot on that land at night. No way, no how.”

  “Whatever…” He sighed. “Day or night, you know we’re probably going to end up dying there.”

  “What about me? What should I do?” Gracen asked in a shaky voice.

  “I’m really sorry about destroying your place, but I have no idea,” I said, making sure all my gear was properly stowed in my vest. “Duma and I will leave first and draw any of Belphoebe’s men with us, so you guys should be clear. But I’d be gone before she wakes up and gets hers
elf free.”

  “But this place was all I had,” Gracen whined. “Duma, you know I don’t have anything else. I wasn’t raised like you and Ab—”

  “Dammit, Gracen,” Duma said, his brow deeply furrowed. “Listen, get somewhere and lay low. I’ll contact you as soon as I can. That’s the best I can do. For now.”

  Duma cocked up one corner of his mouth in a partial grimace as he began to dial the phone. “Family…” he said, cocking his head.

  Chapter 23

  Once Duma made his calls, we left. I would have been disappointed if Belphoebe didn’t have additional thugs waiting for us outside. I would love to have been disappointed. The first pair of her Dreaichbard Goon Squad were standing across the street inside the shadow line of an alleyway.

  I signaled my observation to Duma, and he reached for one of his kukri knives then eyed me quizzically with his eyebrows raised. I didn’t stop him. Being armed was definitely a good idea. There were undoubtedly more that we didn’t see. Time was critical, though, and a prolonged battle would only slow us down.

  I grabbed Duma’s shoulder and pointed up then southeast, toward our exit in the park. Duma tracked my gesture then nodded that he understood I intended to travel in as straight a line as possible to the Ways. I tapped Duma’s other kukri, still in its sheath. He pulled it with a wicked grin. The boy enjoyed violence a little too much.

  Waiting for the goons to turn, I jumped up to grab the edge of the two-story warehouse at the roofline then pulled myself up the rest of the way, rolling onto the roof. As I began lizard-crawling, Duma landed next to me in a crouch without the slightest crunch of gravel on the hot tar. We crept across the roof, moving toward the park and our exit.

  At the edge of the building, I pulled myself up to get a view of the direction we wanted to go. Our path was clear. Part of me wanted to believe that it could be true, but the more pragmatic part quickly kicked those happy notions aside. I had to expect the worst—that was how I’d managed to stay alive for so long.

  Lowering myself below the knee wall, I signaled to Duma to wait five seconds before following me to the next building, about thirty feet across an alley. I crawled back to the center of the roof, got into a runner’s starting crouch, then took off. I tucked into a roll as I landed, trying to maintain as low a profile as possible. While I’m sure the jump would have earned me nines and above from all but the Russian judge, my landing was loud and ungainly. Duma followed with a maneuver that would have made Nadia Comaneci jealous.

  “Showoff,” I muttered, getting to my feet.

  Duma’s grin quickly became a scowl as he took off past me, knives in hand. I reached for my swords.

  On the opposite end of the roof, the last of four cloaked figures landed in an easy manner similar to Duma’s. Like the ones who accompanied Belphoebe into Gracen’s building, these soldiers were dressed in black hide greatcoats that covered them from shoulder to ankle with a high collar that covered the lower part of their faces. They were all bald. Two of them were armed with massive two-handed greatswords, and one carried a poleaxe. The last pulled out an enormous recurved hunting bow.

  Dreaichbard were the Unseelie’s most elite soldiers, chosen from the strongest of the Sidhe families and trained from the day they were old enough to carry a weapon. In all my years, I’d never fought one. Of course, I shot the ones back at Gracen’s place.

  In the split second it took Duma to close the distance, the lead Dreaichbard took several steps forward and braced himself on one knee to intercept Duma, holding the seven-foot-long two-handed sword low to the ground. The large sword appeared unwieldy, but in the hands of someone skilled with such a weapon, it could be devastating. The guy quivered like a spring ready to be released.

  Duma’s blur made a sharp turn then launch over the kneeling swordsman before he could react. Using the kneeling guard’s shoulder as a springboard, he propelled himself straight at the bowman at the back of the group. Duma hit the archer with both kukri knives in the upper chest. The head of the swordsman Duma had vaulted over fell at a funny angle, then his body toppled limply, the giant sword clanging to the tar-covered roof. The Peri pulled the knives free of the archer’s chest, sending the bowman backward over the roof’s edge. Wearing a wild, predatory expression, Duma then attacked the remaining two guards from behind.

  The speed and ferocity of Duma’s attack left the two remaining Dreaichbard in shock that quickly devolved into panic as they both tried to turn to face him, disregarding me completely. Bad idea. Trying not to take it personally, I closed the distance as fast as I could. I severed the pikeman’s extended arms with a downward slash of my sword and spun to my right, bringing the sword in my right hand around in a full arc, removing his head easily, continuing to advance as I spun.

  The final guard regained enough composure to take up a defensive stance, keeping Duma to his left and me to his right. In true warrior fashion, the swordsman took the offensive, even though he was outnumbered.

  The Sidhe, easily seven feet tall, moved with a grace and speed that belied his size. He lunged at me, using the sword’s impressive reach to his advantage. I easily parried the straightforward attack, but the Dreaichbard deftly turned the lengthy blade’s momentum back to his open left flank to fend off Duma. The Peri barely managed to jump back far enough to avoid being cut in half by the lengthy blade.

  Given the guard’s height and the reach of his blade, he kept us easily eight feet away. I feigned an advance, attempting to draw the swordsman’s attention, while Duma stepped back and threw one of his kukris. The Dreaichbard shifted attention so quickly, it was as if he knew what was going to happen. He dropped the point of his sword, tucked into a roll, and came up directly between Duma and me, swinging the long sword in a massive arc.

  I followed his attack and blocked the swing with one sword while I brought the other down on his blade, snapping it cleanly. From behind, Duma closed in and plunged his remaining knife into the Sidhe’s back, causing him to fall to his knees and drop the broken sword. Duma growled something in the Dreaichbard’s ear through clenched teeth, then he jerked the knife free and kicked the guard to the ground.

  “Do I need to ask what that was about?” I asked, pretty sure it had something to do with grudges long past.

  Duma stooped to pick up the knife he’d thrown. “Let’s go.”

  The rest of our trip went quickly until we hit the outskirts of the park we’d come through. It was dark, and because of the gate to the Ways’ presence, Belphoebe’s entourage would have the entire park covered. We managed to sneak past all but the pair left to guard the portal through the Ways itself then dispatched them as quietly as we could.

  We traveled through the Ways to someplace cold and wet, like the rainforests of the Pacific Northwest, first, followed by a small outpost-like town that was colder than the ninth level of hell. As an exciting change of pace, Duma walked us into an unbelievably arid area that was hotter than the sun before we finally exited in a wooded area near a small farming town Duma said was Dubravica, Serbia.

  Duma had arranged for our transport to meet us at the mouth of the Great Morava River near its confluence with the Danube, about a half mile from our landing. From there, we would cover the remaining sixty miles or so to Coronini by water while Duma used a map of the town to locate the Hanner Brid within it. I was hopeful the blood we had was still useful for tracking him, because there was no way we would have enough time to wander around the village checking door to door for him. That would be reserved for Plan Z.

  Plan A was to enter the river upstream of the commune, go ashore at first light, and get to the Hanner Brid as quickly as possible. If all went well, we would get the guy and make it back to our pick-up boat before the vampires could get to us. Our exfil plan was a bit more loosey-goosey, mostly because neither of us expected to actually survive to that point.

  The only thing I
wanted to do before we left for Coronini was call Sarah back. She answered before the first ring finished.

  “Where the hell are you?” she asked, her voice a mixture of fear and anger.

  “You’re better off not knowing. I’m still with Duma, and we’re both okay.”

  “Fine. But I’m still seeing bulletins with your description on them, along with reports that you’re working with Libyan extremists and even Al Qaeda,” she said. “The latest said you were in Seville, Spain, but that you were on the run, traveling with another known terrorist. I’m starting to get questions from superiors about why I’m keeping up with those terrorist bulletins at all, and an hour ago, one of our ballistics experts asked me what case those bullets you gave me were connected to. To make matters worse, I can’t ever get in touch with you. So I’m starting to wonder why I’m even putting my career on the line to help at all.”

  “Sarah, trust me when I say things are complicated,” I replied.

  “Things are always complicated with you, but you don’t even have the decency to apologize or thank me. Our personal stuff aside, my career is on the line here, Steve.”

  After a long, silent pause, I said, “I’m sorry. For the way I’ve ignored you, for endangering your job. Sorry I keep dragging you into my world. But right now, I’m neck deep in a pile of shit. We’ve found the guy, Sarah, but he’s slippery. And he’s fae.”

  “Seriously? He’s a fairy?”

  “Well, half fae and half demon,” I said. “Technically, he’s a cambion.”