Heart's Darkness

by H D A Roberts

  "You get me," she whispered, "Use the Black, and you get me. That's the deal, that's always been the deal. Become who you were supposed to be. Who you want to be, and I'll show you joy like you've never imagined."

  "You don't even like me, Gabby. Do you really expect me to believe that you'd be happy with that?"

  "Are you really sure about that, Mathew? And besides, I fail to see how that matters. This is about what you deserve."

  "Oh, Gabby," I said, cupping her cheek, looking into those dark red eyes of hers, "it's the only thing that matters."

  "It wouldn't, if you'd just take what's yours," she whispered, her lips close to mine, "then, perhaps, I might like you a little bit better."

  "I don't want to be that man, Gabrielle. Even if Rose and her lot don't want anything to do with me, it doesn't matter. I get to choose what kind of man I am. And I hope that I can be a good one. I don't doubt that one day I'll use it again, I can feel it, scratching at the back of my mind. But until then, I intend to be the person my parents raised, the one that looks after his family."

  She smiled at me and licked her lips.

  "So you are taking my deal, now we're just negotiating a time frame?"

  She ran her lips and tongue along my neck and chin.

  "Nice try," I said, pushing against her. Unfortunately, my arms had all the strength of a soggy noodle.

  "I'm getting to you," she whispered, "I can feel it. And not just in your soul."

  She thrust her hips against mine, just enough to make her point.

  "I have to go, and I am just of no use in that department, right now, as you well know," I said, "any sort of vigorous movement and I'll throw up."

  "If you'd just use the Black..."

  "I have enough left in me to banish you," I threatened.

  "No you don't," she said, kissing me again and again, "and you'd miss me if you did."

  "I know," I said with a sigh.

  "So weak... so pliable... I love it," she said, gently pushing me onto my back.

  "I'm in the middle of a crisis," I said weakly.

  "And?"

  "And I have things to do... oh."

  She pulled my t-shirt up and kissed my chest, licking and biting. It felt amazing. Sexy and tender all at once. This wasn't good. In that state, the attentions of a pureblood Succubus might kill me. Enslave me, certainly.

  I relaxed. Gabrielle moaned in the thrill of the hunt, the impending victory.

  In that moment, in that crisis, Professor Porter was the hero. If not for her teachings, I'd have been lost. But because of her class, and all the practice, I was able to put up a Mental Shield, not a big one, but strong enough. Her power was cut off from me, and I sighed as my soul was once again safe from harm.

  Naturally, she noticed.

  "Damn you," she said without heat, still nuzzling.

  "If it helps at all, you're still thoroughly getting to me," I said with a smile.

  "Why can't you just let me win one? Just once? Is that too much to ask?"

  "When you winning means my enslavement? Afraid so."

  My hands had been in some rather delicate places by this point (heat of the moment); she took them and pressed them down above my head.

  "Now tell me, my dear," she purred, "can you fight me up here-"

  She kissed my forehead.

  "-and down here?"

  Another little thrust of her hips, the clothes between us feeling rather inadequate to the task of protecting my modesty at that moment.

  I swallowed. She noticed.

  "That's what I thought."

  Her lips came for mine again... and suddenly she was yanked off me, a slim, pale arm around her neck.

  "How dare you?!" Rose rasped into the Demon's ear.

  "Oh thank God," I said.

  "I'll pass that on," Rose said wryly, and I blushed as I realised the other meaning of my comment, and then her expression was icy again as she contemplated the Demon, "I have never been more angry at you!"

  She tossed Gabrielle like she was a bag of potatoes, and she landed heavily on the floor next to the bed, her eyes wide. She was actually afraid.

  "And how could you tell him that I'd abandoned him?!"

  There was suddenly a glowing sword in the angel's hand as she advanced, her form shimmering with power.

  "I was only following my orders!" Gabrielle said, putting her hands up, "How do you think I was able to stop Time?!"

  Rose stopped, the blade glowing brighter.

  "He helped you do this?" Rose asked acidly.

  "I wouldn't have hurt him. I couldn't have. And I didn't want to," Gabrielle said softly, "I never want to, don't you understand?"

  Rose looked at her, her glare softening. Her sword vanished.

  "If you come near him again before he's finished recovering, I will banish you. Once he is of sound mind, you may tempt him all you wish, that will be his choice. But you will not take advantage of his good nature as long as I'm alive, do you understand me?"

  Gabrielle nodded. She looked at me.

  "So close, my dear," she whispered, a smile on her lips, and then she was gone.

  Rose came over, a look of intense worry on her face as she touched my cheek.

  "Oh, Mathew, what did you do?" she said, sitting next to me, "You weren't ready for this."

  "It wasn't by choice."

  "The wound wasn't, the rest was," she said.

  She took my hand and leaned her cheek on it, "I can't decide whether to be angry at you or proud of you. It's maddening; you do this to me a lot."

  "I'm sorry," I said, feeling dreadful again. Gabrielle had taken a lot out of me, and I was aching and shaky.

  "Oh, that's alright. At least I'm never bored."

  She turned her head, her pretty nose darted up.

  "You smell nice today- oh! Not again!" she said, darting up and standing back.

  "What?" I asked, and then it twigged, "Oh no... please tell me that she didn't give me another dose of those bloody pheromones!"

  She bit her lip, looking me over, her hands bunching into fists as she started sweating, "Looks like it. And this one's a little heavier than last time."

  "Can you block it again?"

  "I guess I'll have to," she said, but she just stood there.

  "Are you alright?"

  "It's really strong. She did it on purpose, the bitch. I'll never block it all."

  "Hold your nose," I suggested.

  "It's not just chemical," she said, coming forward at last. She placed a hand on my forehead and I felt a tingle of something vaguely Magical.

  She sighed and suddenly her nose was against my neck.

  "Oh, it's so tempting," she whispered.

  "Aren't you really more anti-temptation?"

  "I'm complicated," she said. She held me, and it banished pains and aches. It made me feel like me again. She kissed my cheek and slowly pulled away.

  "I really am very proud of you, Mathew Graves," she said and then she was gone as well.

  Time resumed.

  Mary started.

  "Weren't you just over there?" Mary asked, gesturing at the other end of the bed.

  "Nope," I said, dragging myself up, the respite of Rose's presence already fading.

  So, just to clarify, I was low on Willpower, my Magic was hard to use, more like wading through a swamp than sliding along a river; there was an army at my gates, Cassandra had used my Grimoire to kill some of them, and there was nobody to come help me.

  Sometimes, it just didn't pay to do good deeds...

  I staggered through my bedroom door, my Shadows just barely propping me up as I walked. Even using them was a strain, like trying to squeeze the last drop of toothpaste out of a tube.

  I made my way down the stairs to the front doors, and saw a small war being waged.

  Lacy and Connie were holding the pillars, firing blocky, black rifles at a dozen Battle Mages closing in on us. They were really strong, Sorcerers all, and that was very odd. Magicians of that ca
libre were rare enough, and they didn't generally work together. Sick as I was, I didn't stand a chance against so many. Hell, at full power, I would probably still have been screwed.

  Four Magicians were out in front of the others, acting almost like a skirmish line for a larger group behind; the latter were gathered together, where they could pool their defences. I spotted two corpses off to the left, the grass around them scorched, their necks badly broken. I shuddered. Mira was not to be trifled with.

  And the book had been right, they didn't look local. Of the twelve Magicians, eight were of African descent, two were Middle Eastern, and two were Asian. But it wasn't the colour of their skin that marked them out; Stonebridge was quite a cosmopolitan city, after all, and so was the Magical community. It was their dress that gave them away. The Africans wore the robes popular in their territories, brightly coloured with beads of precious metals and gems sown into the hems and cuffs, the Asians wore armoured leather, heavily Enchanted and chased with gold, the Middle Eastern men were covered in silver plate that shimmered with power.

  They had to be Mercenaries, and very well paid ones, at that. Otherwise they never would have attacked a Magician in his own home, his Place of Power. Hell, even with their numbers, they had to be at least a little insane... unless they weren't told what they were up against (although, even if they had been given the broad strokes, the true extent of my defences was a closely-guarded secret, in preparation for days like this one).

  Cassandra was inside the door, firing as well, for all the good it did against that much Sorcerous defence. I heard automatic fire coming from the upper floors, the rest of my Wardens, no doubt. The enemy skirmishers were firing off spells by the dozen, mostly bolts of lightning and shards of razor-sharp ice. But they were just the distraction, something to focus the attention of my Wardens while the group at the rear prepared the real strike.

  Before I could warn anyone, a big lance of power, empowered by the entire rear group, smashed into the column shielding Lacy, causing it to shatter, the house's defences overwhelmed; her own shields just saving her from a messy death.

  As it turned out, I may as well have stayed in bed. I'd arrived just too late to do a damned thing- except watch as Cassandra lost her temper.

  "Alright, enough is enough, we've given them as many chances as we can," my Warden Commander snarled, "Mira, take them!"

  "With pleasure," a silky voice said from the air.

  There was a single, terrible pulse of energy, and six men simply exploded into fountains of gore. Blood and shards of bone, scraps of clothing, splinters of staves and staffs went everywhere. I saw the top half of a skull ricochet off one of the remaining Magicians' shield and impale another right through the neck, it was horrifying.

  I grabbed a nearby vase (full of Tethys' favourite roses, by the way) and vomited heavily into it. That was bloody awful!

  But it was over, they were running like hell, what few of them were left.

  "Mira!" Cassandra said, "What the hell? I meant put them to sleep or something!"

  "You were unspecific; I used my initiative. And I doubt they'll be back after that," Mira said.

  "I didn't mean murder!" Cassandra protested.

  "I'm just following your orders, it's not my fault if I got a lethal impression out of you, you should have been clearer," Mira answered.

  "Well, I guess it's not so bad," Cassandra said, a touch sheepishly, "and it's not like it was anyone we're fond of."

  I might have chuckled, if not for the fact that my lawn had been painted in a wonderful new colour called 'Hint of Lower Intestine'...

  Before I had a chance to reply, the familiar voice of Jeremy Braak boomed from beyond the main gates (the last person I expected to hear, let me tell you. The implications of him being involved in this mess were rather terrifying...).

  "Mathew Graves! You have murdered agents of the SCA about their lawful business. Come forth and answer, or we shall cut you down with the full force of our power!"

  The SCA?

  Mira just killed nine SCA Agents?

  Oh... bother.

  I knew they couldn't really be SCA, but if someone had established the legal fiction... that could be very, very bad.

  Chapter 24

  "Well, crap," I said, making my way to the front door.

  "Matty..." Cassandra said, jumping at the sound of my voice, "I'm so sorry."

  "Don't even start. You did your job. They invaded our home, and they didn't identify themselves," I said confidently, "They didn't, right?"

  "Of course not!"

  This was very bad. We needed a plan, some way of getting official help, someone who could stop this before it got worse. If Braak was involved, that likely meant Faust, and that likely meant some sort of Conclave involvement (which would explain the SCA declaration); that turned the complication factor up to eleven.

  "Where's Demise?" I asked, not spotting her. She might be fast enough, and powerful enough, to sneak out the back and-

  Suddenly there were screams from outside my walls, and Death Magic started to flow.

  "Never mind," I said.

  Braak turned, raising a gun to fire at something on the other side of the wall, where I couldn't see. There was a flash, a burst of energy, and suddenly he was flying through the air, tossed by an astonishingly well placed bolt of Space Magic. He tore into my lawn face-first, and slid to a halt with a whole bunch of broken bones and a much less pretty face.

  And then Hopkins was there, along with Killian. I felt Kron bringing up the rear with Palmyra and about a dozen of their Wardens. Demise was front and centre, walking with Hopkins, her black rod in hand, shimmering with Entropy as she glared around her, looking for threats.

  Bless that little lunatic Warden of mine, she went for help!

  And my cavalry was terrifying. They each had prisoners in tow, including a couple of the Sorcerers who'd run, now blubbering as Killian dragged them behind him with his Will. I walked out to meet them.

  "Magnificent timing," I said, extending my hand, which Killian took in a crushing grip before pulling me into a one-armed hug.

  "We don't like it when the lesser powers pick on our brother," he said, his voice filled with ice and steel. He stuck a thumb over his shoulder at the prisoners, "Can we borrow your dungeon?"

  "Sorry, I don't have a dungeon-" I started to say.

  "Yes we do," Tethys said, having emerged from her bolt hole (she had strict orders in the event of a crisis), "but most of it's not really equipped for actual... prisoners."

  She pulled me into a hug and kissed my cheek before taking a sniff. At which point I remembered my little problem...

  "Oh, my, you smell terrific," she said.

  "I got musked again, maybe maintain a discreet distance for the next few days?"

  "Un-bloody-likely," she said, suddenly very hard up against me, her hands everywhere.

  "Oh God, I did not leave my lunch meeting to watch this... and is that a new cologne?" Palmyra said, also suddenly a little close.

  "I was dosed by a Succubus again, would everyone calm down?" I begged.

  "Oh, not again," Palmyra said, but she didn't back away.

  "And how are you not smelling the vomit I just used to destroy your roses in the front hall?" I asked Tethys, who now had her nose in my ear.

  "I'm working around it."

  "Jen, could you take her for a sec?" I asked my sister, who was also staring.

  "Hm?" she managed, biting her lip.

  "Oh, not you too?"

  "What? Of course not," she said, blushing horribly, "Don't be such a pervert."

  She used her Will to pull Tethys away and suspend her in mid-air.

  "Hey! That's not fair, who knows when I'll get an excuse like Succubus-musk again!" Tethys protested, her legs kicking out.

  "You have the most interesting friends," Palmyra said with a snigger.

  "Good grief," Kron said, her hand over her eyes, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

  "Jillia
n? Would you get Kandi for me?" I asked the Warden in question, who darted away.

  "Just for curiosity's sake, what's wrong with the dungeon?" Killian asked.

  Tethys chuckled evilly by way of an answer. I was suddenly rather worried.

  Kandi was found, and I had her take Tethys indoors, while I hid behind an Illusion, after which Cassandra took us to a set of stairs leading down into the ground.

  "How did I not know about this?" I asked as we started downwards.

  The stairs had been carpeted, and the walls were brightly lit by brand new fixtures, all hidden behind a non-descript wooden door.

  "We thought you did. Or that was the impression Tethys gave when she... appropriated it."

  "Oh. So I probably don't want to know?" I asked.

  "I shouldn't think so. There's a room down here with your name on the door," she said.

  "That's not reassuring."

  "I mentioned it to Tethys and she showed me the inside, there's nothing for you to be worried about. I'm scarred for life, but it's nothing sinister."

  At the bottom of the stairs was a short corridor, with heavy wooden doors either side, except for the two rooms at the far end, which were heavily barred, each containing a hard wooden shelf, a nasty-looking stainless steel lavatory-sink hybrid and some manacles attached to the ceiling by chains.

  "They'll have to go in there until you're ready to deal with them," Cassandra said, "the other cells aren't... well, they're not... that is to say..."

  "They're too... specialised for our immediate needs?" I suggested, coming up with a fairly good idea of what Tethys would have done to a dungeon.

  "Yes. That, we'll go with that," Cassandra said with a shudder.

  "That bad?"

  "Depends on your point of view, I suppose," she said.

  "My God in heaven," Hopkins said from one of the doors, "I'm certain getting in that thing can't be good for you."

  I went over and peeked.

  I shouldn't have. It was a mess of straps and chains and fur... and some things on a shelf that I couldn't identify and had no wish to know the purpose of.

  "Well, better than an actual dungeon, I suppose," I said, contemplating what looked very much like a saddle.

  "Depends on what that thing is for," Hopkins said, pointing at what looked like a series of electrodes attached to a set of leather underpants.