Crimes Against Magic (Hellequin Chronicles Book 1)

by Steve McHugh

  The information had also told me that level thirty-two was as high as I could go. The next few flights would have to be done in the private lift or stairwell, both of which were armed with alarms, and wouldn't open without a key card. So no more climbing up lift cables, which wasn't the worst news in the world.

  The plan was to disable the stairwell lock and use the stairs to gain entry to the restricted floors.

  Unfortunately I hadn't counted on the stairwell being guarded too.

  I peered around a corner and watched one giant of a man sat directly in front of the door some thirty feet away, a book in his hands and a stun gun at his waist. That was definitely not in the dossier from my employers.

  For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how he hadn't heard me, and then I noticed that he was wearing headphones. He started tapping his foot to whatever beat he was listening to as he read his book. Listening to music probably wasn't one of his usual duties, but I was glad he had, otherwise that stun gun would probably have been pointed at me.

  I ducked back round and wondered how in the world I was going to creep past him. There was a good chance he'd notice me from a few inches away, even if he was listening to music. Unless he was blind, and then he'd be sort of useless as a security guard.

  I sat, cross-legged, on the floor and concentrated on my breathing. The space around me shifted and moved as I dragged all of the air away from the far end of the corridor. The guard's cough was the first indication that it was working, followed soon after by wheezing, as the air around him became thinner and thinner. He stood and cursed as he searched for something, and then a quick puff on an inhaler. All the while I kept concentrating, kept dragging all the air toward me, holding it in place just in front of me. I'd tried it out a few times, and it had gotten easier with every attempt. But it wasn't a quick bit of magic and required a lot of effort.

  Footsteps sounded, as the now panicked guard walked toward me, each step accompanied with another wheeze. And then a second later, as he reached half way down the corridor, the steps stopped, before an almightily bang signified the guard crashing to the floor.

  The air rushed back down the corridor, passing over the guard as it refilled the void its movement had left behind. I walked to the prone man, rolling him into the recovery position and stole his card key from his belt. "Sorry, mate," I whispered.

  After using the key card to unlock the door, I dropped it onto the floor. It would look like it had fallen out of the guard's pocket when he stood. Hopefully that meant he'd be in no hurry to raise an alarm.

  The stairwell had an oak banister, behind which, more carvings depicted warriors from different times—Greek warriors, Roman Legionnaires and even a few English War Bowmen, sat on the wall. If I'd had time, I would have taken a few to sell to Francis. Unfortunately I was in a hurry, so I was forced to leave the bounty alone.

  I tore my gaze away from the splendour surrounding me and jogged up the next few fights of marble stairs, stopping outside the entrance to the floor I needed.

  The door pushed open without incident. No one was hiding behind it waiting to apprehend me in the act, so I stepped through and into a brightly lit corridor. Glass windows faced me, allowing me a peek into dark offices as I made my way along the floor to find my destination.

  Daniel's office was the largest on the floor. Easily two or three times any other. According to the blueprints he had his own private bathroom, too. The higher up the pecking order, the less you have to mix with those beneath you.

  I crept along until I reached the closed door. Daniel's name was painted onto the dark wood in a golden font. Instead of having glass windows that stretched from floor to ceiling down the length of the wall, Daniel's office windows stopped at about chest height, giving him a measure of privacy. At least his new employers thought highly of him. Not sure the same would be said tomorrow.

  His blinds were closed, which made getting close to the office a lot easier than it would have been otherwise. I sat next to the door and was about to fish out a snake camera from my bag, when part of the door exploded above my head showering me in wooden shrapnel. I dove aside, my ears ringing like bells, and glanced through the jagged hole now in the door. It was about a foot above where my head had been.

  "You're not going to kill me." Was the first thing I heard from him once my ears stopped sounding like a marching band was playing in them.

  "I wasn't planning on killing anyone," I shouted back as another round ripped more of the door apart, putting a hole at what would have been my stomach height.

  "Don't lie! You're here to kill me and take my daughter. Well, you can't have her." He ejected a shotgun shell, instantly loading another.

  I placed my open hands in front of the door, showing Daniel that I wasn't armed. "Wait! I have no idea what you're talking about."

  Moving slightly had let me peer through the door and into the office, where Daniel Hayes stood, eyeing me suspiciously.

  "Just put the gun down," I said. "We can talk about this." I wasn't about to inform him that if he didn't, I was going to take the shotgun and put it where the sun doesn’t shine.

  I pushed the shredded door a little. His response was immediate. "Stay there," he screamed and fired at the door once more. "Try that again and you'll look the like the doorframe with my next round."

  The wood resembled Swiss cheese. I was surprised it was still upright.

  I glanced through the closest hole, getting a good view of the obviously agitated Daniel in the process. The shotgun was still pointed at the door. His arms were beginning to wobble and sweat creased his forehead.

  "You going to let me talk to you?" I asked.

  His answer was to load another cartridge.

  "Your choice." I threw a small fireball through the hole. It moved with speed, until it struck the barrel of the shotgun, where upon it exploded. Daniel dropped the weapon in panic, which gave me the opening I needed to dive through the remainder of the door and fling a blast of air in his direction. It caught him square in the chest, driving him into the far wall with enough force to hopefully knock the fight out of him.

  I picked up the shotgun. "We done now?"

  Daniel slowly made his way to an upright position. "You won't find her," he said defiantly.

  "I'm here to steal a laptop, your laptop to be precise. No idea what the hell you're talking about." I emptied the shotgun and tossed the cartridges into a waste paper bin next to a large wooden desk, dropping the empty shotgun onto the desk. "How'd you know I was outside your door?"

  He pointed to the carpet outside the office. "Pressure plates, I activate them when everyone's gone home."

  That was pretty damn smart. I was impressed. "As it looks like this job has gone to shit, give me the laptop, I'll run off and you can go back to being crazy guy."

  "What laptop?"

  Alarm bells couldn't have begun ringing any quicker if they'd tried. "Your laptop, your old employers, Lionshead Pharmaceuticals, want it."

  "Who the fuck are they?"

  Now the alarm bells were going apeshit. "Your old employers. You worked there for ages. You left with some of their secrets."

  "Never heard of them. I'm afraid you've been given wrong information."

  Or been set up. "Who did you think was after you?" I asked.

  "I'm not telling you shit, you're a thief. A thief who's currently still wearing a balaclava. How do you expect me to trust you?"

  He had a point, and if I was set up then it looked like Daniel had been, too. He was definitely expecting trouble. I pulled off my balaclava and tossed it onto the desk. The expression that crossed Daniel's face wasn't good. "What?" I asked.

  "Nate?"

  "You know me?"

  "Of course, I know you. Why are you here?"

  I ignored his question. "How do you know me?" My heart raced, what was going on?

  Daniel walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, removing a cigarette and lighting it up. He exhaled a moment later and I expected th
e sprinklers to go off. "I disabled them years ago," he said, anticipating my thoughts. "Occasionally I need a sly one."

  "That's great, now how do you know me?"

  "You're the one who got me into this fucking mess in the first place. I helped you get that damn psychopath Welkin, helped you get those people out. Then you vanished. What the fuck are you doing back here now?"

  "I. Have. No. Idea," I said calmly. "I don't remember anything before ten years ago. Now can you start from the beginning, please?"

  Daniel ignored my insistence. "Everyone thought you were dead. It would have been safer if you'd stayed that way. I guess they found you." Daniel turned to look out the window, when he turned back his face was ashen. "You know the real kicker? This whole fucking mess started over three thousand years ago. If it wasn't for that damn Priam, none of this would have happened."

  Daniel raised his cigarette to his lips and his head exploded, covering me in gore. An eyeball flew past my head as he fell toward me. I caught him and blasted a gust of air under the desk, flipping it onto its side to use as cover. Wind sucked through the small bullet hole in the thick glass window. I looked down at Daniel. He'd known who I was and yet all I got were even more questions. I needed answers.

  But more than that, I needed to leave. Another gust of air left my hands and the desk shot upward twisting behind me as I ran for the still open door. I made it out of Daniel's office and back to the ornate staircase when a female voice sounded from behind me. "Hi, Nate."

  I stopped and turned, the voice was familiar. "Jenny?" I asked.

  She nodded once, and then shot me.

  Chapter 11

  1414, France.

  The English archer, Thomas, had remained deathly silent since we'd left Soissons a few hours earlier. I'd expected a barrage of questions, but since leaving the city and the death it contained behind, he'd become mute.

  We'd walked at a steady pace, heading south and keeping away from major cities or towns. Two armed men covered in blood would cause us unneeded attention. It was a complication I didn’t need.

  "We need to find somewhere to sleep," I said and walked toward the nearest stretch of woodland. It would offer as much shelter as possible outdoors, and much more safety than being out in the open.

  It didn't take long to find a nice spot, an opening about twenty feet square. The thinning trees offered no help against any rain or wind, but the sky was cloudless, and once I'd placed ferns on the floor to keep the cold earth from seeping through my clothes, I was ready to go.

  Thomas did the same as I removed my Jian and Guan Dao, placing them next to me. Then I waited patiently. I knew what was coming.

  "I'm a monster, aren't I?" His words were sad, but with something resembling acceptance tucked deep inside.

  "That depends on you. If you're asking me if you're a werewolf, then yes, you are. If you're asking me if that is a pre-requisite for being a monster, no it isn't. It's up to you to decide what you'll be."

  "What's going to happen to me?"

  "I don't know for certain. During their first change, most werewolves do it in front of others of their pack. They find strength in numbers, and help one another. I do know that it will hurt, inhumanly. It lasts only a few seconds, but that will feel as if you've gone to hell and back. And after that you'll feel the presence of the beast inside you. During your first change, the beast will be more prominent. It will try to make it easier for you to accept the bloodlust. To allow the beast to do as it wishes. You'll want to fight that."

  "And if I don't?"

  I tapped the sword. "A beast-driven wolf is exactly what you saw back in Soissons. You will kill and hurt for fun. If you allow that part of you to take control tonight, you'll come after me or someone else. Neither of those options will let you see the sunrise."

  Thomas nodded that he understood. "How long before I change?"

  "Sunset is in about an hour, anytime after then. Werewolves can change when they like, day or night. But the first time must be on the second night after they're infected. It'll be tonight, I'm sure of that."

  "When I was a boy there were stories about men who could change into wolves," Thomas said. "Turns out I should have paid more attention."

  "The stories are rubbish, I know that much. Wolfsbane does nothing, and you don't have to change on a full moon. However, you must change at least once a week, otherwise you'll start going mad. And a mad werewolf is dangerous. Silver will kill you almost outright, depending on where the wound is, as will decapitation.

  Fire will cause serious problems, as it does almost everything else on the planet. And while you can heal most injuries, your limbs don't grow back, so be careful."

  "Anything else?"

  I searched my memory for anything I'd missed. "Right now you can turn into your beast form, basically one of those we saw back in the city. But over time you'll learn a third form to go alongside the beast and human. The wolf itself. It's the hardest to transform into, as it's the least human. But you're a long way off from that."

  "Do I age?"

  "You're not immortal, but you'll age slowly now. A hundred years will look like only a couple has passed to a human."

  Thomas silently held his head in his hands. He understandably needed time alone.

  I wandered off into the woods, leaving him to sit and ponder my words. When deep enough inside, I set a snare trap by an old tree. The tracks I wanted were easy to discover. It would just depend on whether they smelt Thomas before the trap was sprung.

  I sat up the nearest tree for twenty minutes, perched on the end of a branch, as rabbits and deer walked under me. Each was nervous, tentatively looking around for unseen predators, and not quite sure why. Then my prey trotted past, oblivious to the danger. A quick gust of air from me, and the trap sprang shut, hurling the boar five feet off the ground by its hind legs.

  I dropped to the floor and approached the massive animal from the rear, I didn't want it to see me and go any more insane than it already was. The squealing alone would wake the dead. I removed the air from its muscular body, rendering it unconscious without a fight, which allowed me to examine it more easily. An older male, which was good, I didn't like killing females. Sometimes they're pregnant and sometimes they're too young. Adult males are fair game.

  I removed a small dagger, the same one I'd used to kill the first werewolf in Soissons, and slit the boar's throat, avoiding the warmth that escaped. Then I cut it down with a loud crash and dragged it back to the clearing.

  Thomas stared at the dead beast with hunger in his eyes. "What's that for?" he asked.

  "Later," I told him and removed the ropes from the animal, leaving it to bleed out onto the freshly leafed earth.

  "I have another question for you." Thomas' words were meant for me, but his vision was firmly on the boar. His change would be soon.

  I sat back on my ferns, cleaning the blade with some nearby leaves. "Go ahead."

  "What is Avalon? And why did hearing their name make you unhappy?"

  Now that was the question I'd hoped to avoid. "I work for Avalon. In a sense anyway."

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

  "I work for some people in Avalon, carrying out certain... tasks." Assassination, murder, theft, infiltration and spying, all things I've done in my life. And all things I'd have no problems doing again. "All the gods and goddesses of old, Zeus, Hades, Odin and the like, well, they're all real. Although, not actually gods. They're a mixture of sorcerers, elementals, the fae and other magical beings. A long time ago, all of these deities were left to their own devices and that created constant chaos. Many of them don't like one another, and when you throw in the various other species that exist in the world, like vampires and weres, what happens can be all out war.

  "So a few thousand years ago, there was a war amongst the various gods. In the aftermath, they all agreed to join Avalon. They're all left to do what they want, but they have laws and rules regulating them. For example, Ares can't just
go and kill Apollo without reason. Unfortunately, those powers are abused. The highest ranking member of each faction is nigh-on untouchable. It's created a darkness at the heart of Avalon, where these people fester away, doing whatever they desire."

  "Is Avalon an actual place?"

  I nodded. "It's an island off the west coast of England, although it's not on any maps or charts that I've ever seen. But apart from being a place, it's also an organisation, consisting of several different entities all working together. It's a little bit like when the Lords of England bring their men over to fight for a common goal – in this war's case, King Henry's desire to take France."

  "Was Avalon being in Soissons bad?"

  "It meant all the English soldiers were sent there to die. Someone in Avalon probably contacted King Henry and used his men to do as they wish. Either to provoke all out war between countries or to guard a small girl with humans, because Henry's men are expendable in Avalon's eyes. It's conceivable that it could be both."

  "They can get the King to do what they want?" Thomas asked, incredulous.

  "Normally the heads of countries are surrounded by Avalon advisers. They ensure that Avalon's needs come first."

  "So who wanted the English to be in Soissons?"

  I shrugged. "No idea. There are so many gods and goddesses, Lords, Ladies and Knights of Avalon that it could be anyone in a few hundred."

  "So, which god do you..."

  A scream pierced Thomas' lips, doubling him over onto the ground. He reached out to me, his face contorted with pain. "Help..." he started.

  Another scream cut through him, dragging him to a kneeling position before dumping him back onto the earth. Once his screams could no longer leave his constricting throat, the only sounds echoing through the night were that of snapping bones and muscles. His face changed first. His ears grew upward and the bones in his nose and jaw crunched. Tears fell from wolf-like eyes.