Devon Monk - Hell Bent

“Hold on a sec,” I said to Eleanor. I placed the book facedown on the bed about where Eleanor’s legs would be if she were solid, and picked up the picture, tipping it to better see the back. There was something glued between the cardboard backing and the photo. I removed the backing. Three microthin flash drives no bigger than my thumbnail were stuck to the cardboard. Written on each was a name: Terric, Zayvion, and Shamus.

I pried mine free and took a closer look. Victor’s handwriting. I pushed out of bed, went into the other room, and pulled my laptop out from underneath the bills I hadn’t been paying. Took that to the couch and plugged in the flash drive.

There were two files on the drive. One labeled LIFE, the other labeled DEATH.

I hesitated, then clicked on LIFE.

The file was full of photos and some videos. I clicked on a slide show view, and lost an hour to pictures of me, my friends, my family, my schoolmates, a few from before my father had died, but most from after. Victor had created a virtual scrapbook of my life, of all the good times, and sure, some of the bad we’d been through together.

When the pictures were done, I wiped my palms over my eyes to clear the tears there. I was going to miss him for the rest of my life.

I closed out that file and clicked on the other labeled DEATH.

I figured it would be friends and family who had passed away, or maybe a will or last message he wanted me to have.

Instead it was filled with photos from surveillance cameras, mug shots, and files. Each photo had a file behind it containing a name, discipline of magic, last-known address and occupation, a list of crimes, and a Closer’s name. The documents were written by Victor, and other high-ranking members of the Authority, and they were all marked CLASSIFIED.

These were people who had raped, murdered, stolen, blackmailed, and betrayed. These were people who had used magic to do those things and more.

It was a hit list.

And Victor had left it in my hands.

I sat back and thought about that for a bit. What did he expect me to do with it?

I pushed out of the chair and retrieved the flash drives marked for Terric and Zayvion. Terric’s contained one file, filled with pictures, a lot like mine, and several reviews of the art that I guess Terric had once displayed at a gallery. The second file contained some information about some of the greatest Life magic users in the history of the Authority, and an exhaustive history on Soul Complements.

Zay’s file was filled with photos, a few that contained a man and woman that might have been his parents. He’d been fostered out pretty young, and as far as I knew, he’d never looked for his birth parents. I’d honestly assumed they were dead, and realistically, they might be.

The other file looked like Victor’s diary from the day he joined the Authority. Read like a history book of who’s who and what was what.

Neither of them had received a hit list. That he’d given only to me.

Because he knew I would do something about it.

A knock on the door made me jump.

“Mr. Flynn?” the night clerk said. “Call for you. A Mr. Conley.”

“I’ll be right down.” I pocketed the flash drives and turned off my laptop. Pulled on a T-shirt and boots and walked down to the office.

I picked up the phone. “Are you all right?” I asked.

“You said you wanted to be here.” Terric sounded tight, but calm. “I’m at my house. Jeremy’s on the way.”

“You invited him over?”

“No. But he’s coming anyway.”

I scrubbed my fingertips across my scalp, my new Void stone rings warming as they dampened the magic surging through me.

“Shame? You don’t—”

“I’ll be there.”

I walked out into the cold without my coat, without a weapon. But when I pulled up to Terric’s place, I dug through my glove box, then checked under the seat. Found my knife, flicked it open, then walked up to Terric’s door.

Tried the latch. It was open. Walked in.

Heard voices in the living room.

Terric stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest. Jeremy paced opposite Terric, which put his back to me.

Terric didn’t look up as I walked in. He didn’t have to. He’d know if I were within a mile of him now.

“...it him?” Jeremy was saying. “Whatever he’s been saying, it’s a lie.”

“This has nothing to do with Shame,” Terric said calmly. “This has everything to do with you and me, Jeremy. With how you’ve been using me.”

“Bullshit.”

I flipped the knife up into my fingers. Terric’s eyes flicked over to me, along with a very clear “no stabbing” look.

“Do you want to get your stuff now, or do you want me to mail it to you?” Terric asked.

“Damn it, Terric. Why? We have something. I thought it was important to you. I thought I was important to you.”

“You lied to me, Jeremy. You’ve always lied to me.”

“You just want me out of the way so you can fuck that shithead Flynn.” He had stopped pacing the edge of the room and was advancing on Terric.

Terric’s shoulders tightened and his eyes narrowed. “You and I are over. Leave.”

“Like hell I’m leaving. You need me.”

“No,” Terric said.

“He told you to go,” I said. “I’d suggest you listen to him.”

Jeremy stopped as if an icy wind had suddenly frozen him in his tracks. He turned to glare at me. “You called him?” he accused Terric. “You called this waste of breath to save you?”

“I don’t need saving,” Terric said. Then, a little quieter, “Not from you.”

“Fuck you, Flynn. I know you did this. What did you tell him? What lies did you tell him about me?”

He crossed the room in five hard strides, and I waited, shaking my head. “You really should have left.”

“Shame,” Terric warned.

“I should have killed you!” Jeremy swung for my face. Stupid move. I ducked that and buried the knife up to the hilt between a couple ribs, then yanked it out and stepped out of his reach.

He staggered back, but had enough anger, and whatever other substance in him, that one wound wasn’t going to shut him down.

I’d gotten what I wanted, though: his blood.

He stuck his hand in his pocket, reaching for a gun.

“Stop!” Terric ordered, and a concussion of magic wreaked havoc on the air pressure and my eardrums.

Jeremy was motionless, tightly frozen from knee to neck in the paralyzing Hold spell Terric had cast. “This is out of control,” he said. “Crazy. Both of you. I won’t stand here and watch you kill each other.”

“I didn’t come here to kill him,” I said. “I can do that anywhere, anytime I want. And when I do”—I looked Jeremy in the eye and smiled—“I will make sure there are no witnesses.”

“Shame, you are not helping.”

I dragged my fingers across the blade, catching up Jeremy’s blood, which he was still leaking quite quickly. Before Terric could start arguing with me, I nicked my finger. With his blood and my blood combined, I drew a Truth spell.

The strong scent of cherries filled the room, the unmistakable mark of Blood magic being used.

Jeremy’s eyes widened as the Truth spell spun out from our joined blood, locking us into the binding of Truth, shaped by my hand and will.

“Do you love Terric?” I asked.

“Shit.” Terric exhaled.

Jeremy was sweating. Thing is, a Truth spell is as strong as the user’s will, and I was a very determined man.

“No,” he snarled through gritted teeth.

“Do you care for Terric?”

“No.”

“Were you planning on using him and his magic for customized drugs for the Black Crane?”

He was shaking now, his face gone purple-red. “Yes.”