Chapter 11

I wasn’t sure what to do about Dana’s attitude, but I knew I didn’t like it. She was my Stirpe now, so didn’t that mean she had to follow my lead? I knew she had to follow my orders, but I wasn’t going to do that. I simply didn’t understand why she acted so nonchalant about Michael’s news. Was that how most Padroni behaved? I understood that my status had changed with regards to Magus Law, but did that really make me better than anyone else? I didn’t think so, and acting like news like Michael’s wasn’t so important was wrong too. It was something we would have to discuss later – at length.

How many things like this had I put off now?

“Where is Lawson?” I asked as Michael, Greta, and I went out to Dalton’s Suburban.

“He said they were pinned in at the corner of West Park Row Drive and South Center Street,” Michael said.

“That’s just East of the campus,” I said. “We’ll be extraordinarily lucky to get there before the police.”

Michael opened the driver’s door and then smiled at me. “You seem to forget with whom you’re riding,” he said and then climbed in.

I knew who I was riding with, but short of making the Suburban fly, there was no way getting through traffic. Even if we had sirens, like the police, we were light years from Lawson’s location by comparison. There was a police station just north of the campus.

I climbed in behind Michael. Across from me sat Greta. I thought she would have ridden shotgun, but I was obviously wrong. I clicked my seatbelt into place and looked up to ask Michael a question, but a splash of warm soapy water hit me and made me sputter.

I wiped my eyes and shook off my hands only to find that I was perfectly dry. I looked at Greta. She was in the middle of casting another spell. I didn’t bother looking at Michael this time, I simply asked, “What is she casting?”

“That first one, by the sound of it, was a cleaning spell.”

I looked up at the rear view mirror. I could only see his eyes, but he certainly looked like he was smiling. “I take it I stank?”

“To be honest, you reeked,” he said.

I glanced at Greta. “So, what’s she casting now?”

He focused on the GPS built into the dashboard. “Protective spells. We don’t have a vest for you.”

I nodded and tried to brace myself. There was no telling what these spells would feel like.

Greta stopped after casting three spells on me. To be honest, I didn’t feel anything other than the very gentle sensation of magical energy. When she started checking her gear I asked, “You made the cleaning spell splash me on purpose, didn’t you?”

She looked up. “What? Why would I do that?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Good question.”

“Everyone ready?” Michael asked.

“Ready,” Greta said.

I looked from one to the other and said, “Ready,” though I wasn’t sure what I had to be ready for.

We turned around in the parking area and left the warehouse. In a blink we passed under the Interstate and followed South Collins Street northbound. Traffic was just as heavy as I thought it would be, but we were speeding along like we were on an open road. In a blink, we passed East Arkansas Lane.

I looked at the GPS. The path marked on the map looked like a squashed question mark, which meant we would be turning right before hooking back around to the left. I had no idea what that was about. I couldn’t even understand why we weren’t taking a more direct and open route. For that matter, there was the Lockdown. How were we doing this and not having the Magical energy zapped away?

I took a breath to ask one of those questions when I was thrown into the door next to me. We’d made our right turn.

I grabbed the handle built into the frame above my door as well as the handle on the back of Michael’s seat. Greta had been holding on all along. Now I understood why she cast her spells and checked her gear before we left. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate on that during the ride.

I looked up to the front windshield when we turned left. Not only were we passing cars and trucks like they were sitting still, but we were passing THROUGH them too. Somehow, the Suburban had taken on a ghost-like quality, with us inside. Otherwise, Michael drove like a bat out of Hell. I still didn’t understand the strange path though, and didn’t have the chance to ask. We made another left turn and shortly thereafter, came to a screeching halt behind a Humvee.

“Let’s go,” Michael said, pulling his handgun and climbing out.

Gunfire seemed to be everywhere. I heard it slam into the metal of the Suburban and pepper the glass. Nothing got through, thankfully, and I looked around to get a better idea of the situation.

The intersection was huge. South Center Street was six lanes and West Park Row Drive was four lanes. Somehow, using three trucks, the assailants had forced Lawson’s SUV to stop here. The entire west side was housing. To the Northwest was some offices, and to the Southwest was a church. The streets were both busy, and both congested due to the skirmish in the intersection. No one was getting through and it would still take the police a while to get here.

The Humvee in front of us was parked almost perpendicular to Dalton’s Suburban. I saw blood smeared on it near the front. On the other side of the Humvee sat Lawson’s SUV. Lawson popped up, fired three rounds the other way and then popped down again. Other men I didn’t recognize popped up behind another truck on the other side of Lawson’s SUV and fired automatic rifles at us.

Some of those bullets hit the Suburban’s windshield. It started to crack.

“Seth!” Greta yelled. “Move it. You can’t stay in there.”

I scooted over to her side because that put the Suburban between me and the men with the automatic rifles, and climbed out. “Who are they?” I asked.

Greta shook her head. She didn’t know.

She moved around the door and stayed low as she moved up toward the Humvee between us and Lawson’s SUV.

I followed her, staying as low as I could. Bullets whizzed past, over our heads.

On the ground were two men. They were dressed in normal clothes except for their vests, which were laden with clips for their rifles. Both of them were bloody and the one closest to me had a bullet hole in his head. His eyes were still open.

I stopped and checked him. He didn’t have a pulse. I wasn’t even sure if that was a good or bad thing to be honest. I didn’t want to see anyone killed, but currently there was no way to convince anyone else of that.

The man had a handgun in his holster. I took it out and looked it over. Surprisingly, I knew how to check the clip, which was full, and to put on the safety. I tucked it into the back of my pants, just in case someone needed the weapon. I also found a couple of spare clips for the weapon. I put those in my jacket pocket.

I moved over and checked the other man too. He had several gunshot wounds to the chest and abdomen. He didn’t have a pulse either. I took his handgun and clips too, but this gun I carried.

Michael and Greta had already moved around the Humvee to join Lawson and the others. I waited until our people were shooting to join them.

Carlos sat on the ground next to the rear wheel of the SUV. He had blood on his chest, but he was breathing and looking around.

I set the handgun on the ground next to him and checked his wound. “How’re you feeling?” I asked, thankful Emma’s expertise as a doctor was kicking in.

“Like I’ve been shot,” he said.

It was meant to be a joke, so I smiled. However, his voice was soft, like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. I took off his vest and peeled away the top of his shirt. Two small bullet holes were there just below the right clavicle. It was possible one of them had nicked his lung. He needed to get to surgery soon.

I checked his vest. There were no signs of damage. The shooter just got really lucky. I placed the vest against his chest and then climbed up into the SUV to find the first aid kit.

Someone grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back out. “What the fuck are you doing?” Lawson spat in my face.

I pointed at Carlos. “He needs a hospital, now. Until then, we have to stop the bleeding. I told you I don’t know how to use guns, so let me do this and you keep those guys off of us.”

Lawson spat on the ground and let me go. “Fine, but if you get killed, it’s not my fault.”

I found the first aid kit and went back to Carlos. His eyes were closed. I shook him. “Carlos, wake up!”

His eyes shot open and he said something in Spanish.

I shook my head. “What was that?”

He relaxed and shook his head too. “Nothing,” he said softly and his eyes started to droop again.

“Stay with me,” I said, moving as quickly as I could to patch the wounds on his shoulder. I knew, thanks to Emma, that bullets rarely stay in the body. So, when I finished the patches on the front, I eased Carlos forward to check his back. His chest had blood on it, but his back was drenched with it. Exit wounds are always bigger.

This case was worse though. One or both of the bullets had hit his shoulder blade. Part of the bone stuck out of his back.

I eased him back and then rummaged through the first aid kit. I found a plastic bag. I used it and tape to put together a touchless bandage. Once it was ready, I eased Carlos forward again and put the bandage in place. It formed a seal around the wound, but didn’t touch it directly.