Page 7 of The Magic of Destiny
Suddenly, he came to an abrupt stop, and I turned back to see what was up. His eyes were wide, color draining from his face.
“Hunt? What's wrong?” I asked, my stomach sinking.
He didn't respond, shoving his hand into his jeans pocket and pulling out a switchblade.
“What the fuck, dude? What's happening?” I took a step back as he shoved the knife toward me, the blade still folded inside.
“Take it. Hurry. You have to do something. Now, CJ!” he ordered, pulling his shirt up and turning to give me his back. “On my right shoulder. The tattoo that looks like a Celtic knot? There's a bump in the center of it. Cut it out. Now.”
“What is it?” I asked, stepping up and flicking the blade out with a snap.
“Tracker,” he grunted.
“Shit.”
“Fucking cut it out, CJ. I'm not late for my training class yet, so nobody would've had reason to check my whereabouts, but that could change anytime now. I’m not saying I believe everything just yet, but if what you’ve said is true, we don't want them tracking me here,” he said quickly, reaching out to brace himself on a tree trunk.
“It's gonna hurt like a bitch,” I warned.
“I know, just fuck— FUCK!” he shouted as I sliced his skin open without hesitation, reaching in with my forefinger and thumb, and digging a little for the tracking device.
Hunter cursed as I pulled. “Sorry, it's just not wanting to come out. It's stuck or something,” I explained, still tugging on the damned thing.
“It probably has anchors. Think of it like a beetle. I'm pretty sure that's what they look like—the legs grip so it's harder to remove. Do what you need to. Just get rid of it,” he breathed.
“I have an idea. Hold still,” I instructed, as I let my magic rise up to the surface of my flesh. I envisioned water flowing from my fingers directly into the open wound.
Hunter jerked as the cool water began flowing over his shoulder, running down his back. “What the hell is that? Is that my blood?”
“No, it's water. I can create it now with my affinity.” I pushed the flow of water harder into the cut. “Let me see if I can flood it, and maybe it'll loosen the hold it has. I don't want to fuck up your back.”
“Fine,” he groaned. “But we're only giving it two minutes. Then you're cutting it out of me.”
The tracker reminded me of a tick the way it was burrowed into his muscle. I kept a tight hold with my fingers and kept the stream of water steady while tugging lightly. After a minute, I felt it give slightly, just enough to let me know this was working.Is this damned thing alive?
Hunter took a deep breath. “Pull as hard as you can.”
I yanked sharply, and Hunter shouted as the tracker finally came free, taking a small chunk of muscle tissue with it. Looking down in my palm, I saw that it did indeed look like a tiny metal beetle.
“Destroy it,” he told me, and we both jumped as the legs actually twitched.
Holding it between my fingers, I fed a bolt of electricity to it, watching carefully as the beetle sizzled and sparked before disintegrating into a blackened pile of ash.
“What in the fresh hell was that thing?” I asked, looking at the remnants on my fingers in wonder.
“That,” Hunter said, pinning me with a serious look, “is what we're up against. That's just the tip of the iceberg. Trust me, CJ. Montague has technology you can only dream about.”
“What did you do for them, Hunter?”
He looked at me, and a flash of emotion slid over his face but was gone before I could identify it. “Whatever they asked,” he replied softly, turning to head back to the cottage.
I was going to kill Asrael. One death wouldn't be enough for what he deserved.
I stalked after Hunter, reaching him just before we got to the cottage. I knew what needed to be done, but it didn’t stop the unease from swirling in my gut. “Look,” I said, as he moved for the door handle, “I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but we’ve been dealing with a lot of shit and we can’t handle any more right now. You had a fucking tracker in your back, man.”
Hunter turned to look at me, and the tension in my shoulders faded as I saw nothing but understanding on his face. “I get it. You aren’t sure if you can trust me yet. What do you need from me?” he asked, not breaking eye contact.
Sighing, I shook my head. “You’re wrong. I do trust you, but this isn’t just about me anymore. I have a woman who I’ve sworn to protect and there are five others who’ve made the same vow.”
