Zanderbolt and the Ice Queen (Urban Wizard Fantasy / New Adult / Romance)

The Hand of Vengeance

Torrents of rain pummeled my body as we gave chase to Jackson Kent. His liquified body contorted this way and that as he sped headlong toward Central Park. Visibility was poor and the sound of the rushing wind rang in my ears.

"I'm so stupid!" Eleonora bellowed. "I should have finished him off when I had the chance!"

"Don't worry, I won't let him get away," I reassured her. "You'll get your revenge." I quickly looked back upon hearing a peculiar, flapping sound.

We were being followed.

Eleanora looked back and gasped. Half a dozen, raven-masked pursuers began firing spells of harrowing streaks of red light. The spells whizzed by us much too close for comfort.

"Shit!" She spat, "It's the Black Hand!"

I replied calmly, "Keep them busy, I'm closing in on Jackson."

She nodded and turned around as much as the space on the cloud allowed, hurling spells of ice at the assailants. I heard the distinct sound of two yells being drowned out by the thunder which began resonating all around. "Duck in three seconds!" She said quickly.

"What? Duck?"

"Lower your head!"

I heard it before I saw it. My head lowered just before a large, ball of ice whizzed over my head. Two more yells resounded. "Good job, now hold on tight," I said.

"Hold on to what?"

"To me."

"W-what?—"

"Just do it, now!" The cloud descended quickly. My stomach lurched as her arms curled around my abdomen—much tighter than I would have expected.

"Gyaaaaaaaahhhh!" She yelled as I whipped the wand forward, causing the cloud to shoot forward fast in time with my motioning, in a vertical line. We raced faster after Jackson and entered into the dark recesses of Central Park, zig-zagging through the myriad trees. The cloud bobbed and weaved, left and right, with the quickness of a wasp. I carefully monitored Jackson's awkward and unpredictable movements, trying to find a pattern—a split moment where some unconscious preference of his to dart this way or that would be noticed.

There.

I leveled the wand carefully just inches to the right of his watery form. My utterance was swift, "Zasanasa asanasaz zasanasa!" A stream of fire surged through the air—encircling Jackson's watery body; a cascade of vapor swirled upward in a powerful and swift surge. The sound of Jackson's voice bellowing filled the air. He crashed fast into the ground—rubble and dirt shooting upward. I glimpsed his human form returning and ducked from a couple of deadly spells cast from behind. To Eleanora I said, "Go get Jackson, I'll handle the wizards."

"With pleasure!" She created a long, cascading trail of ice—leaping on its slippery surface and skating toward the injured man who had made a beeline through the forest. The weather's fury intensified by the minute. I decided to bring brought the cloud around—flying headlong toward the wizards.

Two left.

My head moved this way and that—avoiding the volley of spells they seemed to cast in a panic. My left hand shot upward, in time with the sheet of lightning that illuminated the sky. "Zatata Atataz Zatata!" A fork of lightning descended from the sky, striking both wizards head on. Their bodies fell from the clouds they rode, toward the ground below.

I immediately circled my cloud around and headed into Central Park, landing and following the trail of ice which covered several trees. I ran through the dark path upon hearing a female's scream. It wasn't long before I came to a clearing, where a few feet away, Jackson stood behind an Enchantless girl—given her attire, perhaps an unlucky jogger. He held her at the neck with one hand, and pointed a sharpened stick at her throat with the other. The girl appeared frightened beyond compare; I'm sure the sight of Eleonora holding both hands outward, ready to cast an icy spell, didn't help.