King Cage and the Worth Street Djinni by Mike Stop Continues

Author:Mike Stop Continues [Continues, Mike Stop]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: King Cage, Book 1
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The King’s head landed across the second rail, the hard edges of the track’s base wedged between his ribs. He raised his head slowly, his fists still wrapped tightly around the cans. The King was sore from ass to skull, and though he hadn’t broken anything, the night was still young.

The djinni grimaced from the platform above. Its fire-lit eyes bulged beneath wiry, black eyebrows. The corners of its mouth pulled at the edges like the mark across the King’s own heart, scowling and grinning at once with thick, pointed teeth. Its red skin deepened at the apex of its muscular chest, thighs, and calves, and it paled in the cuts between. The djinni flexed its beefy claws, the muscles of its arms pulsing like hot, summer air.

The King was on the verge of pissing himself, but he was not about to give up. An artist never retires. Not really. Not even this close to the end.

The djinni leaped from the platform, and the King rolled to his feet, doing his best to put some distance between himself and the Red. The creature landed behind him with a thud.

The King turned, shaking his cans. He hoped it sounded like a rattlesnake to the djinni, though he feared it sounded more like a death rattle.

“Show me what you got, you son-of-a-shit.”

The djinni laughed, deep and malevolent. A pool of slimy, subway water sizzled at the edges of its feet. In moments, the puddle evaporated, and the remaining trash caught in a dozen tiny fires.

The djinni lunged for the King, bridging the space between them in three heartbeats’ time.

On the first heartbeat, the King raised the cans up, red in his right, black in his left. On the second heartbeat, he pressed his index fingers down. Two thick clouds of paint burst from the cans with the sound of rushing water. By the time the King’s heart beat a third time, the djinni’s hands were at its eyes, each ringed a different color.

The King stepped aside as the djinni stumbled by. The King rested the cans on the platform and raised his body up against the ledge. He had to get back to the piece fast if there were any hope of binding the spirit back down.

Then the station became a carnival. The painted walls glowed with such brightness that even the shadows of the support beams had burned away. The King’s eyes watered, seeing decades of his work illuminated as if by the light of the sun. But it wasn’t the sun, of course. It was the djinni.

The King looked back as he planted his first foot on the platform. The inside of the djinni’s eyes burned like white hot plasma, so bright the King had to squint to see. If he’d even momentarily blinded the creature, that moment had passed.

The King threw his other foot up, but he was out of time. The djinni wrapped a claw around the King’s ankle, and his bare flesh went instantly hot. Then it crackled.

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