Mojo Queen Read online

  Even at this time of night there was some traffic. If any of those other cars noticed we were being chased by big nasty critters that looked like something from an old werewolf movie, one of them riding on the hood, would they call nine-one-one or chalk it up to one beer too many? A snorty giggle slipped out. Blake looked at me, his smirk demanding to know what I found so amusing.

  So I told him. Pointing my index finger at the beast howling and scratching at the windshield, destroying what was left of the car’s paint job, I said, “Hellhound hood ornament.”

  He shook his head in disbelief, a booming laugh rolling out of him as I slung the car into an empty Kroger parking lot. Cut a few brodies, slammed on the brakes, and the thing finally went flying off the hood. The lot connected to a neighboring shopping center. I followed that route, driving past deserted stores, looking for a side street to take.

  “Do you see them?” I said, too loud in the quiet interior of the car. “They still out there?”

  “I don’t see them, but I don’t think we’d lose them that easily.”

  I found the side street I was looking for. It led to another side street that would lead me to the old highway rather than the interstate. Taking that highway, I could get to Daniel’s house or mine, depending which direction I chose. We moved farther away from the lights of town. A red light stopped me at the intersection where I needed to make a decision, my house or Daniel’s. I sat there, grateful for the respite from driving, my hands aching with the tension of gripping the steering wheel too hard.

  I glanced at Blake. He had his eye on the rearview mirror, looking for Delia’s hell beasties. The guy was an arrogant jackass with dubious ethics and more personality issues than any therapist could fix, but I didn’t believe he was evil. I didn’t understand how this girl Delia could choose to be possessed by a demon, but that didn’t mean Blake was lying. I couldn’t leave him on his own, knowing it would get him killed.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He swiveled toward me, face glowing in the red light. We looked at each other for what felt like a long moment. “I’m charging you double.”

  As the light turned green he gave me a lopsided smile, with just a hint of smirk.

  I meandered along some back roads, like him unconvinced we’d lost the hellhounds. It was hard driving the curving roads while keeping an eye out with my auric vision at the same time, looking for flashes of anything in the dark. I took a corner a little faster than I meant to, the car fishtailing. The passenger side back quarter panel bumped against something, making me wonder if I’d hit a small animal or tree. Then the whole car lurched as a big heavy something slammed into us. Red eyes flashed in the rearview mirror.

  “Miss Mathis,” Blake said, voice clipped.

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  Another hellhound hit us from the other side. I could hear and feel the back of my car crumpling. I pressed my foot harder on the accelerator. We weren’t far from my house but I didn’t want to lead Delia’s hell beasties, and Delia, right to my front door. I thought of all the supernatural means Delia could use to find me but an image of a more prosaic method popped in my head. “Probably just look in the damn phone book,” I grumbled.

  “What?” Blake faced me and out of the corner of my eye I caught the look on his face. That was all the warning I had.

  A hellhound crashed itself into my door, which caved in and sent hot pain spiking through my left thigh as the car spun off the road. Before we could even stop moving another hound attacked from the back, another mounting the hood again. The headlights picked out a fourth as it ripped my front bumper off. I couldn’t keep control of the car. Blake leaned over and put his hands on the wheel, trying to help. Hellhounds kept bouncing us around like bumper cars at a carnival. The car finally came to stop, slamming into a tree.

  Breathing hard, fear and adrenaline rushing through me, I still gripped the steering wheel. We shook again. Hound on the roof, hound on the trunk, their claws ripping and tearing at metal and plastic.

  Blake reached for my hands, unpeeling my fingers from the wheel. “Are you okay?”

  Another lurch from the back end. I whipped around, saw red eyes and a shape darker than night, with what looked like a piece of tire hanging from its jaws. A sound escaped my throat. I was most definitely not okay.

  I turned back around, in time to see the hellhound on the hood remove the other wiper blade. “I think I prefer ghosts.”

  He opened his backpack and started searching through it. “Do you have anything we can use as weapons?”

  The car rocked as another tire became hellhound snack. Absurdly, I wondered if my insurance would cover this.

  I reached behind him to get my messenger bag from the floor of the back seat. “A flashlight, a taser, brass knuckles.”

  He chuckled. “You want to get close enough to use brass knuckles on those things, you go right ahead.”

  I pushed my glasses up. “Well, what have you got? Because unless you’re packing a flamethrower, we’re screwed.”

  His hands came up out of the depths of his backpack, each one holding some small object. “No flamethrower, but I think if we do this right we can get out of here in one piece.”

  He zipped up the backpack, put it on his back. I took the flashlight from my bag, stashed the taser in a back pocket, slinging the strap over my head. “Whaddya got?”

  He put something small and circular in my hand. My thumb ran over it, finding an opening. “Dude, this is a compact mirror.” One of the little double-sided makeup mirrors to keep in your purse, one side more magnified than the other. My estimation of our survival fell off a cliff. I looked at him. I didn’t know if he could see my expression well enough in the dark, but I really, really hoped he could. “So. Will there be eyeliner? Perhaps a little magical lip gloss?”

  He snatched the mirror from my hand, holding it in front of my face with two fingers. “It’s a transference shield. Whatever they throw at you--” He pointed out the windshield at the hellhound shredding the hood of my car. “--this can throw right back.”

  “How does it work?” I tried not to sound too skeptical.

  “Open it up, with the mirrors facing them.” It sounded simple enough. He added, “And you have to believe in it, Roxie.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment. “I should have some salt in here, too.” I rummaged through the messenger bag again, finding a pair of small plastic jars filled with sea salt. I shoved them down my jeans pockets, hoping they wouldn’t fall out. Should have worn cargo pants. My thigh hurt, fingers finding torn denim and a warm wetness. “I don’t think my door will open.”

  “Get in my lap.”

  “Oh hell no.”

  “It’s better if we leave the car together, anyway. And if your door won’t work.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said as another piece of my car was ripped off. I unlatched my seatbelt and climbed over to his lap, perched on his knees with my arms using the dashboard and door as leverage so I’d have the minimum of contact with him. Blake wasn’t having it. One arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me against his chest. He set the other talisman on the dash and ran a hand through my hair, pulling it to one side. I felt his lips against my ear.

  “Roxanne,” he whispered.

  His arm kept me trapped against the hard wall of his chest. I leaned back, my head resting on his shoulder. I swallowed, and the metallic taste of fear left my mouth. My breathing slowed, calmed. I relaxed in his arms, his fingers lightly trailing the side of my neck.

  “What are you doing to me?” I could feel something spreading through me, slow and heavy and dulling my senses. Something else followed it, something that felt bright and prickly. It made every nerve ending stand on end, my whole being alert and ready.

  His lips brushed my ear again. “Calming you down. We can’t panic right now, Roxie. If we panic we’re dead.” He kept his voice soft, silky.

  Whatever he was doing, however it worked, it was effective, maybe a little too effective.
I felt warm and safe with him and I had to work to make my brain realize it was because of this magic he was working on me. It had nothing to do with him, really, or me. It was just some kind of spell he weaved.

  I shook my head slightly. I needed to think straight or I’d relax my way right into a hellhound’s jaws. I pointed at the talisman he’d placed on the dash. “What’s that do?”

  He picked it up, held it close so I could see it. It was a figure of what appeared to be a woman with the head of a lioness.

  “Sekhmet,” I said. “She’s an Egyptian goddess.”

  “A goddess of war. Do you know this area? We need to cross running water if we can.”

  We weren’t far from my house and I was pretty sure I could find us a stream. Ghosts and spirits can’t cross running water, but I didn’t know about something like these hellhounds. “The hounds are corporeal.” I twisted in his lap to face him. “Will that work with these guys?”

  “They’re corporeal for now but they’re still from the spirit world. I’ve been chased by stuff like this before and crossing running water always works.”

  That sparked all kinds of curiosity but I kept a lid on my questions. “So we just run for it?”

  “Pretty much.” He pulled me closer to him, our faces not an inch apart. “Listen to me. For that shield to work, you have to believe it will work. You have to believe it, Roxie.”

  “I understand.” And I did, truly. Which was why even with his calming magic I was terrified. Right at that moment I couldn’t think of anything I’d ever believed in before seeing proof of it first, even ghosts and vampires and the efficacy of my folk magic. I had to convince myself it was no different that my mojo hands, while wishing I had about a dozen of them on me instead of none. Note to self: never again leave home without a fully charged protective mojo hand.

  “Open the mirror. When I open the door I want you to take off. Head for water.”

  “What if we get separated?”

  “Don’t drop the shield and I’ll be able to find you.”

  It occurred to me if Delia had tasked the hellhounds with finding Blake and either killing him or bringing him to her so she could kill him herself, they might not chase me. I didn’t know how to feel about that.

  “This won’t be that bad,” he said, and I wondered which one of us he was trying to convince. “Fangs and claws are no big deal.” He laughed.

  His laugh choked off abruptly as a roar came from a hellhound outside the driver’s side window. Fire erupted from its mouth, the stench of sulfur rolling into the air and lodging in the back of my throat. Tiny cracks spread through the safety glass.

  “Did you know they could breathe fire?” I said, coughing.

  “Shit.”

  I took that to be a no.

  The door flew open. With one hand Blake pushed me from the car to the ground, where I rolled out of the way. He brought his other hand up, aiming Sekhmet at the hellhound right in front of us. Angry red and gold light burst from the talisman, catching the hellhound and sending it flying backward as if shot from a cannon. Blake stepped from the car, extending a hand to pull me to my feet. We stood back to back and for a moment, all I could hear was his slow, steady breathing.

  He pushed me away from him as another hellhound jumped from the roof of my destroyed car. “Go!”

  I ran. In moments I found myself in the trees and the darkness. I don’t know how far I got before tripping over a root, winding up sprawled on the ground. I heard it before I saw it--a hellhound racing up behind me. I rolled onto my back, aimed the shield mirror and yanked the taser out of my pocket. Hit the button as the hellhound reached my feet. It howled in pain, a metallic, eerie sound, as it thrashed on the ground. I wasn’t sure if the mirror was doing its part but I tried my best to believe it could, sending my will into it like I would when lighting a candle. The thing finally stopped moving and I stood, unsteady, keeping the shield on it.

  Another explosion of red and gold light drew my attention. “Blake!”

  No response. Then I heard more sounds of hellhounds, barks and growls. I dropped the taser and went farther into the woods. I found a stream much faster than I thought I would, knee-deep and cold. I nearly lost a sneaker in the streambed. I stopped on the other side, putting my hand against the wide trunk of a tree to steady myself. The cut on my thigh hurt and I was afraid it was bleeding pretty good. My sides hurt from running. I took a quick inventory and found I’d lost one of the salt bottles. Worse, the messenger bag’s flap was open. No telling what might have fallen out. I couldn’t remember what I’d done with the flashlight but I didn’t have it with me. I still had the shield mirror, and Blake said he’d be able to find me as long as I kept hold of it. I looked across the stream for any signs of him, of Sekhmet’s light. Nothing.

  I looked up at the tree I leaned against--a big sturdy oak with nice climbable limbs. I snapped the mirror shut and put it between my teeth, climbing as quickly as my aching body would let me. Not too high up, just high enough to give me a better vantage point. Straddling a limb, I leaned against the trunk and opened the compact again, holding it mirror side out just in case. I raised my glasses, searching the night for Blake’s starfield aura.

  There it was, moving fast toward my direction. Hazy black clouds gave chase behind him. “You’re almost there!” I screamed to him.

  Blake came out of the tree line to the tiny clearing just ahead of the stream. He looked around and I called to him again, waving frantically. He saw me and took a step toward the stream. I saw the hazy shape behind him and let out a warning.

  Three hounds came out of the trees and took him down. Hard. They dragged him to the ground and back into the trees, snarling and growling, jaws snapping. I heard him cry out in pain, a harsh guttural scream.

  “Come on come on come on,” I whispered. “Use Sekhmet, come on.”

  But he didn’t, and I took that to mean he couldn’t. When the hellhounds slammed him to the ground, the impact must have knocked the talisman from his hand. If Blake couldn’t fight back either the hounds would kill him, or take him to Delia so she could kill him herself. Here I was, safe in a tree, running water between me and the hell beasties. My fingers curled tighter around the mirror shield. I slowed my breathing, ground and centered myself. It shocked me to realize that’s what he’d done to me in the car, right before we left it. I didn’t know it was possible to ground another person so it hadn’t occurredto me that’s what he was doing. I didn’t have his training or knowledge of magic but I knew it took a lot of energy to affect the environment around you, even more to affect something with sentient energy of its own. What had it cost him to pour a little of his own strength into me?

  I was halfway across the stream before I let myself think about it. Another painful scream from Blake led me to him. Face down, hands grasping for something to hold onto, his left ankle in the jaws of a hellhound trying to drag him back through the woods. Another hellhound targeted me, its grating metallic bark getting louder as its powerful legs brought it closer.

  A jet of fire exploded from the hellhound’s mouth. I raised the mirror shield, willing my intention into it. I felt a wave of power spread out from it and had to brace myself to stay on my feet. Lowering my head and looking over the tops of my glasses, I could see the blue light of the shield’s protective spell. The blue light collided with the fire, sending it back to the hellhound like a boomerang. The creature howled, running in circles as it was consumed by its own flames. The stench of sulfur and charred beast threatened to bring up my French toast. Once the hound collapsed, its remains were nothing but a campfire.

  That left two more hellhounds. “Where’s Sekhmet?” I called to Blake.

  He gestured vaguely to his left, leading me to a glow in the brush. I knew talismans needed to be recharged with magical energy from time to time, no different from my mojo hands, how often depending on what they were used for. I just hoped Sekhmet wasn’t out of juice yet. I ran for her, skidding to my knees.
/>   I turned back to Blake, half crawling, half walking on my knees to reach him. He kicked at the head of the hound holding him, managing to free his ankle. He pulled himself away from it and reached for me. “Roxie.”

  I grabbed his hand and aimed the goddess of war at the hellhound. The talisman became a conduit of energy but instead of Sekhmet’s red and gold light, I saw the vibrant indigo of my aura merge with the dark shine of Blake’s starfield. Power crackled from our joined hands, spread through every inch of my body all the way to Sekhmet. Sensation overload threatened to shut my brain down. I couldn’t think--all I could do was feel. And nothing had ever felt like this, so sharp, so clear, every cell, every nerve bursting with it. My muscles, my skin, even my hair, hummed and quivered like a struck high wire. Our combined energy, our will and intention, essence--whatever words you wanted to use to try to describe something as nebulous as magic--it all freight-trained its way through me and poured out of the talisman. The hellhound wasn’t thrown around or blasted away. The thing was obliterated. A shining darkness enveloped the hound and swallowed it whole, leaving no trace. Not a bone, not so much as a hair.

  I pitched over, nearly falling on top of Blake. He pulled himself into a sitting position, taking his talisman from my hand. “There’s one more,” he said.

  “I don’t know where,” I said, shaking, pushing myself up from the ground weakly. “Can you walk?”

  Before he could answer the last hellhound made its presence known. Blake’s arm swung up but this time Sekhmet stayed dark. Not so much as a glow. We’d wiped her batteries out. The hound snapped at me, its teeth ripping the sleeve of my cardigan as it grazed my skin. Blake took the mirror shield but it had lost power too. The transference part of the spell had worn out, leaving us with a shield whose blue light looked watery and weak. It served to hold the hound back but didn’t look like it would last. The hound kept testing it, bouncing off of it but still getting closer to us.

  I helped Blake to his feet. He swore under his breath and I knew that ankle wouldn’t let him run like we needed to. The hound kept snapping and snarling. A plan occurred to me. A really bad, really dangerous plan, but it was the best I could come up with. I searched my messenger bag for the brass knuckles, pulling them out and placing them on the fingers of my right hand. These brass knuckles weren’t just brass. I’d had them specially made, with a ribbon of pure silver imbedded in the knuckles. Silver, like the salt I had in my pocket, is a substance of purity that will do some pretty serious damage to impure hell beasties. I gave the messenger bag to Blake. “I’m going to distract the hellhound. You get to the stream. It’s not far.”