77.

  “You’re all out of tricks now,” Black John snarled, raising the dagger to strike down at me.

  “Not quite,” I grunted, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth and pressing it against the cloaking charm on my belt.

  I channeled a burst of power into the charm and a puff of black shadow whipped around me. That caught Black John off guard. He stuttered in his attack for just a second as he covered his eyes and mouth as he had done with the Chalk Bomb, unaware these were shadows not dust. I rolled to one side, the shadows trailing behind me. Black John stabbed and missed. I reached into my pocket, dropped the Cloaking charm, and hurled two Bangs Rocks at his feet.

  Black John leapt as the Bang Rocks exploded, his heavy boots protecting him from the worst of the impact, but it was still enough to sweep his feet from beneath him. He landed with a grunt throwing his hands down to protect himself. I looked at the dagger and my eyes widened. Black John still had hold of the handle but the blade was within hands reach. I leapt and slapped my hand down on it.

  Black John snorted with derision. What kind of fool grabbed hold of a dagger by the blade? He wrenched the blade back towards himself, clearly expecting it to slice my hand open and perhaps even take a couple of fingers with it. Instead, the blade didn’t budge. Back John looked down at it in confusion and then yanked it again. My hand jerked but the blade was stuck fast. I opened my fingers and wiggled them looking up at him with derision in my eyes. Black John pulled at the dagger and it was stuck fast.

  “What’s the matter mate, mage got your blade?” I punched him with my free hand sending power surging through the Shock Rune.

  Black John yelped: he had felt the sting of the knucks before. He let go of the knife and staggered backwards away from me. He regained his footing with cat-like agility and his hand dropped behind his back. I threw up my Cloaking Charm again and sprinted. Three shots rang out at an almost inhuman speed. I skidded behind the crate of drugs. I heard one more shot fired, and it pinged off one of the crates, then the gun went silent. I hid behind the crates, catching my breath, a sudden spike of adrenaline robbing me of breath. I heard Black John checking his clip, and then I heard the sounds of the gun being reloaded.

  "Come on out," I heard Black John's voice. "Everything must die. The only control we have is how we face our death. Now come and face yours.”

  I lifted my balaclava for a moment to wipe the blood from my nose and spat on the floor before pulling it back down. Stretching out my neck, I slipped the Wrist Rocket from my pocket. Before I could consider how stupid of an idea it was to get into a shootout versus a trained mercenary with just a slingshot, I slipped a Bang Rock from my pocket and loaded it into the pouch. I heard Black John circling and I didn’t need a divination spell to know he had the gun raised and ready to fire. I countered his circle, keeping the crates between me and the gun. I held my breath and then popped out from the side of the crate, slingshot at full draw, and then ducked back as the crate just to the left of my head exploded in a shower of wood and lead.

  I scuttled backwards, cursing as I felt fresh blood filling my mask, and I heard Black John chuckle again. There was no way I was going to be able to shoot him with my slingshot before he shot me with his gun. That was fanciful thinking on my part. I needed a new plan, and I needed it quickly. I reckoned Black John had at least 6 to 8 more bullets left and who knew how many reloads on him. There was no way that I was going to dodge all of them. I ran through my very limited list of charms and spells, and realized I didn't have much.

  Black John wasn't going to give me time to think. I heard his boots scuffing the warehouse floor as he walked in a wider counter-circle to mine, trying to find an angle behind the crates without giving me the chance to return fire.

  Another bullet zipped overhead, but that one was more of a warning shot. Black John was hesitant to fire into the crates, as he'd destroy some of their product. That gave me an idea. I fired my Bang Rock into the air, where it hit the roof weakly and exploded. Then I fished in my pocket, spun around into the open, and held a lighter up in the air. It was one of those old-school ones that could be flicked on and remain lit. I didn't expose my body, just the flame.

  "I wouldn't," I said to him, "lest you want your whole shipment to go up.”

  I peeked my head out and saw Black John standing there, pistol levelled, finger on the trigger, but he didn't fire.

  "That little flame won't set those crates up," Black John snorted derisively, but I saw just a momentary flicker of doubt in his eyes.

  "Come on, John," I said to him. "You must know by now I'm magic. One thought, and this flame will turn into a whole vortex of fire, and it'll burn everything in this warehouse down.”

  I saw Black John's pink tongue flick out and lick his lips.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "Bullshit," he said, "there ain't no such thing as magic.”

  Now it was my turn to snort derisively and cock an eyebrow at him.

  "You've fought me twice now. You're really saying that I beat you fair and square the first time?”

  Black John hesitated.

  "So if you don't want your boss's drugs to go up in flames, throw the gun away and put your hands up.”

  Black John thought about this. I could see him doing some sort of mental calculations.

  "But you're gonna set the drugs on fire anyway, aren't you?" he said.

  "Yeah," I replied, caught off guard by the logic. "But I guess the only decision you need to make is whether you get caught in that fire as well.”

  "Oh, so now you're a killer?" Black John shot back, and I saw that wicked grin on his face again. "No, I don't think you are. I think you're some stupid kid with big ideas, but you're no killer. So no, I'm not gonna lower my gun, and if you set that shipment on fire, I'm gonna put two in your brain.”

  I clenched my teeth. I really hadn't expected him to call my bluff. That was the thing about bluffing, you had to be ready to go all in if you were going to do it well.

  "Fine," I replied, and then I began chanting absolute nonsense words and waving my other hand as if casting a spell. I saw John's eyes go wide.

  "Wait!" he said.

  "Too late," I replied. He then held up the pistol, dangling it between two fingers.

  "Okay, good," I said, ending my enchantment but still wiggling my fingers. "Toss it.”

  John's face was cold and disdainful, and then a nasty look passed across his features. He did as I instructed and tossed the gun at me underhand. The gun spun in the air, and I realized what he'd done. The gun hit the floor, the finely tuned hair trigger went off, and a bullet zipped by me so close that I felt it shred through the leg of my combat trousers. I flinched and stumbled to one side, and then Black John was on me. He didn't waste time retrieving the gun, which had skittered across the floor. He didn't need to, the man was a living weapon. He cleared the stack of crates in one bound and landed next to me. Two punches connected squarely with my face: one splattered my nose, the other caught me just under the chin.

  I saw stars. My vision went black, then bright, and then black again. I felt a heavy blow land on the side of my legs, and my entire body was spun around, almost upside down. I hit the floor hard enough to hear bones crunch. Some instinct kept me moving, though. When I hit the floor, I rolled once, then twice, and I heard Black John's heavy boots slam down behind me where my face had just been. Then I heard him coughing and spluttering. As my vision cleared, I thought he'd hit me so hard that I'd gone blind because everything was white. Then I felt the familiar choking of powder at the back of my throat and realized I had landed on the side where my Chalk Bombs were in my pocket, and they must have gone off, engulfing us both in an explosion of chalk dust. Black John had received a face and throat full of it. He wheezed and gagged, flapping his hands behind and in front of him, trying to clear his mouth as he coughed.

  That gave me a chance to right myself. I rolled shakily to my knees, getting one foot underneath me and reached into my pocket. I'd done this once before and almost lost my hand, but these were desperate times. I grabbed the Bang Rock, sandwiched it in my palm, and then leaped at Black John. Even blinded and choking, the man was still too quick for me. His hands snaked out and grabbed my wrist, the Bang Rock falling out of my palm and landing harmlessly on the floor. He reared back and punched me in the gut, then grunted in pain as his fist smashed into the carapace.

  He reared back, and I saw one of his knuckles was distended and already swelling. But the carapace wasn't designed to mitigate blows, just protect from penetration, and I felt that punch all the way through my gut and into my spine. I gasped. I would have fallen to all fours if Black John hadn't been holding me up by the wrist. He reached out with his broken hand to grab hold of me, and I brought my free Zap Knuck to bear, zapping him just above the knee. He roared and kicked his leg back, flinging me bodily into the crates of drugs. My body ragdolled. I hit the pile of crates and bounced off, spinning away into the darkness.

  I was struggling to breathe now. I think he'd cracked one of my ribs or maybe broken them when he threw me. Black John shook his leg out, then looked down at his broken hand, muttering curses under his breath. I saw him looking around for his gun. He stalked over to it, bending to pick it up, and that was his mistake. He took his eyes off me. I could barely gather enough concentration, but I tried the Cloaking Charm, and a puff of shadow went up. It was weak and would have been of no use if Black John had been looking directly at me or if there was stronger lighting, but in the half-shaded warehouse, I was able to melt quickly into the shadows, drop it, pull my Wrist Rocket out, and take aim in what was a particularly smooth motion for me. Black John brought his gun to bear, blinked in surprise that I was no longer there, and then turned just in time to take a chest full of Bang Rock. From this distance, the Bang Rock took him off his feet and sent him spinning backwards. The gun went off in his hands, and the bullet went wildly wide.

  I leaped out from my cover and pursued him, knowing that this might be my only chance to put him down. I threw a wild kick at him, hitting him somewhere in the ribs. Black John grunted and grabbed hold of my leg. I fought to free myself, kicking and stamping away at him, but he had a vice grip. I lashed out with the Zap Knucks, hitting anything I could possibly reach, zapping him in half a dozen places. Fear and adrenaline gave me strength and speed I didn't know I possessed. I laid into the mercenary, punch after punch, trying to put him down. Black John convulsed, twitched, and snarled. Finally, his grip loosened on my leg, and I stumbled back, hands raised, facing him. Black John was a smoking mess, his body was covered in burns from the Zap Knucks, his shirt had holes in it, and his muscles twitched involuntarily. But if he noticed or cared, he didn't show it.

  “I’m gonna fucking kill you” Black John snarled, a blood and froth dripping out of the corner of his nerveless lips.

  I raised my hands and clenched my fists. This wasn’t working. He wasn’t going to stay down.

  Was I going to have to kill him?

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