by J. P. Rice
That was exactly why I had gone into early retirement. Unfortunately, I had no family. The chosen one had it all. I had nothing and was all alone. Trying not to sound bitter, I said, “I can understand that. That’s why I stepped away for a while. As much as I’d like to help you out, I have an unfinished mission that I need to keep myself open for.”
“Lugh’s Spear?” he asked immediately.
“No. Why would you assume that?” I scratched my neck nervously.
Mike responded, “I’ve heard a few rumors about it lately. Some people said that I would encounter some serious power players if I went on the hunt for it. So then, why are you in Pittsburgh?”
“My husband. He’s been gone for a while, and although everyone else has told me to give up, I never will. All my contacts are in Pittsburgh, so I came back to see if anyone had heard anything about him. And I will find Darabond one day. You can mark it down. But when that day arrives, I will have to leave Pittsburgh at once,” I explained.
I could feel Mike’s eyes burning holes in me, inspecting me, which I probably should have expected from someone with detective skills. We made quick eye contact, and he turned away shyly.
In a higher pitch, he said, “I’m a sucker for a good love story, so I’m really pulling for you. If there’s anything I can do to make that happen, just let me know. I want to step back from everything, but that’s a worthwhile cause.” He took a deep breath. “And this might sound forward, but it’s meant to be a compliment. You look so much like my girl that it is kind of spooky.”
I asked, “How old is she?”
“Twenty.”
I assumed I was blushing from the fiery feeling right under my cheeks. “Then I’ll definitely take it as a compliment.”
The conversation reminded me that I’d used magic. Magic made me age. What did I look like right now? I would guess I hadn’t aged much if I was comparable to a twenty-year-old. My body felt a little sore, but nothing out of the ordinary. Goibniu’s potion had restored my defiance of Father Time. But how long would it last?
“I’m still surprised that you would walk away from your duties. Where did you learn magic?” I pressed him.
Mike’s brow furrowed, and I could tell he was gauging how much to tell me. “I have a mentor named Alayna. Maybe you know her.”
Oh, I knew her all right. I hated her but remained civil when we saw each other. She used to be Queen Al from Sleepy Willow. The bitch put a curse on the land to kill all the crops and prevent any from growing again. I’d watched the citizens starve to death. Their emaciated, skeletal bodies wasting away, searching endlessly for a single grain of food. The elves who raised me starved and died.
Alayna was also buddy-buddy with my mother and it made me sick. The Celtic Gods loved her—a queen who starved her own people to settle a personal grudge—but hated me for some unknown reason. Perhaps it was because I was best friends with the Morrigan.
Mike didn’t need to know about my animus. I told him, “We know each other. Did she give you the never-ending wave lesson?”
“You mean how pure magic is like a constant flowing body that runs through everyone and only a select few can ride the wave. Yeah, she might have taught me that one,” he said, and we both laughed. He added, “Looks like you can surf pretty well from your lightning display back there.”
Unfortunately, I hadn’t been born with the ability to surf that wave. I kept the spotlight on him. “What types of magic did she teach you?”
Mike raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment. “Spellcasting. Conjuring. Elemental. Natural. To be honest, there is so much more I’d like to learn about but being the protector of the city takes up all my time. I feel like I’m using the same acts over and over again. I want to study up and build up my repertoire.”
I could understand that. Not everyone had a handicap like me concerning magic. I wasn’t the chosen one born with magical abilities. Conceived by two Gods, why couldn’t I harness magic naturally?
I had to take my magic from others. And surprisingly, the pure magic had clashed with me, yet the dark magic meshed seamlessly with my soul. The Morrigan had convinced me it was natural, but it still concerned me that I had an affinity toward dark magic.
The Morrigan had imparted some knowledge to me that allowed me to sap magic from others. She hadn’t shared that secret with anyone else and had sworn me to secrecy with the explicit threat of death, as if it were necessary. Very few beings knew how to absorb all the magic from another entity. Absorbing the magic of another was easy. Understanding how to use those skills was another story altogether.
I still didn’t have a full grasp of all the magic running around inside me. Sometimes, I could just envision something, and it would happen automatically. I’d also learned many spells, englyns and chants that accompanied some of the skills I’d absorbed.
Some days I could feel the pure and dark magic fighting against each other, battling for supremacy. It was out of my control at this point. Like my rage fit back at Octavius’s. Angry, dark blood had overpowered the good. If I could go back, I wouldn’t have taken the dark or black magic blood.
I said, “From the stories I’ve heard, you seem to be doing all right for yourself.”
Mike shrugged his shoulders and his eyes opened wide, contemplating my words. “I’ve done a lot of stuff that I look back on and still wonder how the hell I did it. These past few years have been such a whirlwind that it’s all one big blur. I’ve almost died a hundred times in the past year. But I’m still here. Maybe there’s a reason for it all.”
“If you figure it out, let me know,” I joked. “I’ve been trying to understand why I haven’t died yet either. Granted I’m immortal, but I could have easily died in a number of ways over the years.”
“Trust me. I believe it after what I saw back there. It’s a crazy game most of the time.” Mike had a veteran presence and talked like an old salt. Like he’d been doing this for decades, not just a few years. He knew his shit, despite his constant hinting that he was just a magical neophyte. All experts started out as neophytes. Mike had me torn on what to make of him.
I’d accomplished my mission. Mike had revealed a good bit about himself and I had given him barely any information about myself. All he really knew was my name and that I could be a force to reckon with when I was angry. After seeing Mike up close again, I couldn’t help but think Jonathan was lying about him not being a vampire.
A FEW HOURS PASSED and I heard what sounded like a ruckus in the distance. Mike jumped up and I smelled the magic emanating from him. Flowers. How dainty.
Wild growling inside the building brought me to my feet. The commotion grew louder and nearer. Within a few seconds, the barbaric yelling ceased abruptly. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, so I prepared for the worst and called on my magic.
Had the vampires come back for round two? I pressed my face against the bars but couldn’t see anything outside the cell. Mike turned to me and we both shrugged our shoulders and waited in awkward silence.
I smelled something overpowering Mike’s fresh scent. What was it? The fruity aroma intensified by the second. Orange blossoms. No. It couldn’t be.
The outline of a large figure appeared in front of the cell. As my eyes adjusted, a golden ring mail jacket gleamed in the dull light. Tyr stood in front of the cell. My hero. My savior. Standing there in all his manly magnificence.
I heaved out a sigh of relief and joked, “You’re late for the meeting.”
Tyr’s smile gleamed in the gloomy atmosphere. “I’ve always said, better late than never. I could leave if you wish.” He gestured with his thumb and looked over his shoulder.
I smirked at him. “Since you’re here, you might as well let me out.” With Tyr’s presence grabbing my attention, I’d almost forgotten that Mike was standing next to me. Too bad nobody showed up to rescue him.
Tyr stared at the lock on the cell, trying to break the protection ward. A few moments later, he nodded and insert
ed the key. He turned his wrist and the clicking sound was music to my ears. He pulled the gate open and extended a powerful hand covered by a white glove.
I grabbed it and exited the nasty cell. Tyr pointed at Mike, and said, “What about this guy?”
I answered, “Don’t worry about Peach Fuzz. We can leave him here.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You aren’t going to let me out?” he asked, moving closer to the door.
“Nope. You’ll figure out a way to get out of here. You’re a smart guy. I believe in you,” I told him.
Tyr slammed the door and Mike took two steps closer and smashed his fist against it. Peach Fuzz grabbed ahold of the gate and shook it as he screamed like a maniac, totally ruining my joke. I planned to let him out, and we hadn’t relocked the cell. I just wanted to see him sweat a little and he’d ruined all the fun.
I said, “Stop it. Let him out and let’s get the hell out of here before the wolves figure out you are here.” It hadn’t exactly been a silent escape.
Tyr squinted and his face contorted in confusion. Nobody seemed to get my jokes. He opened the cell door again. “Don’t worry about the wolves. I set a wolfsbane spell that will have them knocked out for the next hour. But if anyone shows up who wasn’t here, we’ll be in for a fight.”
Mike jumped out of the cell with a grin on his face. As I looked around, I realized we were in an off building, not the main house. I stared at a long row of empty jail cells.
I noticed two guards in human form sprawled out on the dirt floor in front of two other cells. A door at the end of the room was beckoning us, promising that safety lay right on the other side of that rectangular piece of wood. I hopped over the wolves and followed Tyr to the door.
He turned the knob and booted open our exit. As I walked through the jamb, I realized this jail was in their backyard, about twenty yards from the main house. More wolves in human form were lying on the ground, totally incapacitated.
I peered over my shoulder and screamed. From behind, Tyr wrapped his powerful arms around me, making me feel safe. Turning again, I counted seven vampires hanging from several oak tree branches. Each vampire had multiple wooden stakes jammed into their chests.
Even from a distance, the starry night provided just enough of a gleam that I could see the blood trickling from the tips of their shoes or boots. Drop by bloody drop, the thick liquid of life fell to the ground, staining Mother Nature’s creation. Each vampire’s face had been mangled beyond recognition. With that said, the wolves probably weren’t done desecrating the bodies.
What on earth was Jonathan thinking? Attacking the wolves on their home turf? It was an outright declaration of war. And it didn’t look like it had gone well. I had to be careful around him.
My knight in shining armor put his hand on the small of my back and gently guided me down a little hill. We passed the house on our right and ran toward a small parking lot of vehicles. Tyr moved ahead of me and headed toward a bright yellow race car. Considering I’d lost my keys, it appeared my Jeep was staying here.
As we got closer to his car, I realized it was a McLaren GT replete with special side panels and a spoiler to counter wind resistance. Tyr lifted the passenger door that opened upward, like a Ferrari or a DeLorean. Like a true gentleman, Tyr helped me into the passenger seat and shut the door behind me.
He walked around to the driver’s side and said, “Sorry, Peach Fuzz. I only brought the two-seater. Good luck getting out of here.”
Mike barely had time to react before Tyr hopped in, started the engine and gave it some gas, releasing the pent-up purr of a thousand angry bobcats. He straightened the car out and got it onto the winding driveway. Tyr flashed the peace sign to Mike, and we were off.
When we hit the final straightaway of the driveway, the engine roared, tires screeched, and my head snapped back, hitting the soft headrest. As Tyr sped out onto the road, I stared at the dashboard that resembled a plane’s cockpit. I agreed to go back to his place because I expected the wolves would be on the prowl for me and I didn’t want to end up like the vampires.
Just when I’d started to doubt whether I could trust Tyr, he’d busted in like a knight in shining armor, ready to slay the dragon. I knew it was silly to think he had set me up. But one never knew whom to trust in this business.
We ended up in Mount Washington, overlooking the entire city, a little while later. We cruised up a steep street, the wide race car tires hugging the road and releasing the slightest hint of a squeal. Tyr pulled into the driveway of a big snow-covered house and pressed a button on the dash.
The garage door opened, and Tyr pulled the McLaren into the hold. The four-car garage housed three other outrageously expensive vehicles. I got out and an overpowering scent of pine tree air freshener attacked my nose.
Tyr stepped out and his fresh cologne counterbalanced the smell and caused me to smile. He took off his golden ring mail jacket and hung it up on the wall. He proceeded to remove a few more pieces of his white-enameled armor and set them on a desk against the wall.
Tyr kicked off his tan battle boots and guided me through a door in the garage. We entered a finished basement that featured a game room with pool tables, arcade games and something that looked like a flight simulator.
A screechy female voice sounded from upstairs. “Where’d ya go?” Tyr had warned me that his girlfriend would be here, but I hadn’t expected her to sound like that.
It was annoying, but a familiar tone that I couldn’t quite place. Tyr didn’t answer as he stomped up the steps. He opened the door, and we entered his kitchen. A young lady with curly black hair and bright red lipstick ran up and wrapped her arms around him. She planted two soft kisses on his perfect lips and gave him a playful slap on his right cheek.
The woman was about my height, although she was in heels. She appeared dressed for the club in a short red leather mini-skirt, a matching suede off shoulder, crop top and flashy jewelry on her wrists and neck. Her pale skin glowed like powerful moonlight, guiding a weary traveler on the darkest of nights. She didn’t seem supernatural, but her cloying perfume could be hiding her magic scent and her radiant aura made me wonder.
Taken aback by my grimy appearance, she turned to Tyr. “Yah supposed to tell me when yah goin’ out, silly. And whom is this?” she spoke with a heavy Long Island accent, gesturing toward me with wide eyes and a quick tip of the forehead.
I could handle the introduction myself. “Hi, my name is Gale. I work in the same business as Tyr.”
“I’m Luna. You sell rare books, too?” she asked, the bridge of her nose wrinkling.
She stepped forward and extended her arm to shake my hand. Embarrassed, I flashed a filthy hand from behind my back momentarily. I shrugged my shoulders, hoping she only saw the dirt and not the crusty blood stains. As soon as she saw my hand, she yanked her arm away and took a step back, moving closer to Tyr.
I lied. “Sure do. And it can be a crazy business, let me tell you.” I took out my phone and pretended to read a text.
Luna pointed at my phone and said, “You should take a pickcha of us and send it to me. I’ll give you my numbah latah. My phone is awl the way upstairs and we just look so good together. It would be a crime not to document it.” She laughed hideously as she moved in closer to Tyr, poked him playfully on the nose and tilted her head against his chest.
Then it hit me. Her accent reminded me of Fran Drescher in The Nanny, even down to the mind numbing, obnoxious eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh machine gun-style laugh. How did Tyr put up with that?
Was she trying to assert her territory? Or was this picture intended to torture me? Forcing me to keep a constant reminder of their relationship. I didn’t want any pictures of Tyr and this skank on my phone. I didn’t want it to remind me of the pain I had to endure with my missing husband.
I slapped on a fake smile. “Sure.” I wasn’t great with all the apps on cell phones, but I knew how to work the camera feature. I snapped a quick pic and Luna made me promi
se that I would send her a copy when she gave me her phone number.
Tyr wagged a finger at me and suggested, “Why don’t I show you to the guest room, so you can shower? While you clean up, I’ll see if Luna has anything for you to wear.”
Tyr led me through the kitchen and down a hallway. He approached a door at the end and opened it. The scent of flower petals, cinnamon and vanilla rushed out of the room and danced playfully in my nostrils. Tyr held out his beefy arm, gesturing for me to enter. I grinned and walked through the jamb.
Whoa. My quarters looked like a plush hotel room. The king-sized bed had nearly twenty pillows on it and mahogany nightstands flanked the head. In the corner sat a dresser as tall as me with towels and washcloths on top. Clear glass bowls of fragrant potpourri had been placed on the nightstands and dresser.
Tyr pointed to a door near the dresser. “There is your bathroom. I’ll leave you now, June.”
He bowed his head chivalrously, turned around and left, shutting the door gently on his way out. I had to control myself around Tyr. The more I found out, the more I liked the man. I hated using the P word, but Tyr was as close to perfect as could be.
In the past, I had constantly compared him to my husband. Recently though, I only thought about Tyr. I hadn’t given up on reuniting with my husband, but over the past decade I’d come to peace with the fact that it might not happen. It was the hardest realization I’d ever reached. A necessary one, but earth shattering nonetheless.
Being around Tyr had stirred up some emotions that my old ass hadn’t felt in years. He was the only one who could get my motor running, so to speak. I still wouldn’t cheat on my husband—I didn’t count Zeus’s trickery or what I had to endure when I’d gone undercover in the Red Cavern—but the former Norse God of War was making it difficult.
As I stepped into the foggy mist of the hot shower, I tried to clear my head and think about what had happened. I’d forced my way into the heart of the battle between the vamps and wolf shifters, which now seemed like a terrible move. That evil bitch known as hindsight had reared her ugly head again.
