Magic After Dark: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Margo Bond Collins

  Aderyn and William both dropped to their knees and dipped their heads to the ground in the almaealij alkabir’s direction.

  Lash, who was still kneeling on the ground and gasping for breath, did so for a different set of reasons.

  “Not a pleasant sight to come across,” the old man chastised, and he gave his long, silver beard a light tug at its tip. “Not pleasant, at all.”

  “I was about to execute the sibyl, Highest One,” William blurted, craning his neck at an awkward angle to look up at the old man without relinquishing his bow. “I wanted to find out how he—”

  “Do not allow yourself to get wrapped up in questions of how, William,” the almaealij alkabir mused, looking past them and honing his razor gaze on Lash. “For a mage, the how should always be obvious—we are the very holders of what makes any question of ‘how’ obsolete, after all—but, in this case, we should be asking ourselves why.” Twisting the index finger of his left hand, the almaealij alkabir forced Lash’s face to rise until he was looking back at him, then, with a flick of his right wrist, Lash lurched to his feet. “So, young sibyl, why are you here?”

  Aderyn’s eyes shifted back toward his garage as he calculated his options. If the almaealij alkabir asked a question, it wasn’t long before the honest answer was provided.

  And if this sibyl Lash was honest…

  “Analetta,” his voice was strained but clear nonetheless.

  The almaealij alkabir furrowed his old brow at that, an act that made Aderyn humorlessly imagine a hunting dog’s jowls as it bared its teeth. Then, seeming to remember that there were others present, his face settled into something almost peaceful, and he offered a nod to the two mages before him.

  “You may go now,” he said, then, as both mages moved to stand, added, “William.”

  Realizing he was being excluded from something, William’s head swiveled toward Aderyn, whose face, he was sure, mirrored the same breed of shock at the almaealij alkabir’s instructions as his own. Seeing that the younger mage wasn’t in on whatever it was their leader was intending, he turned the bulk of his confusion back around.

  “Highest One,” he dared two steps toward the old mage. Only half of the second step completed its journey before it seized with but a shift of the almaealij alkabir’s middle finger. Unable to move further, William’s lips picked up where his feet left off. “I found the trespasser in my car. Aderyn has no claim to—”

  “Do you think me such a simple mind as to not know as much as possible before acting?” the almaealij alkabir’s words felt like a two-ton feather floating over their heads: gentle and carefree with an immense and inevitable danger.

  William, regaining control of his legs, turned and left.

  Aderyn found himself, for the first time in his life, envying him.

  “Aderyn Phillipine Winds,”—Aderyn flinched as the almaealij alkabir used his full name—“I’d almost grown optimistic that this phase of yours had passed.”

  “You going to lecture me about focusing more on my studies, too?” he groused, avoiding eye contact with the old man. “Because, if so, don’t bother—William already told me that everybody already hates me for it.”

  “Though William might say otherwise,” the almaealij alkabir said with a shake of his head, “nobody hates you for it. It’s better to say they fear you, though it’s hardly simply for your studious ways.”

  Aderyn felt his heart sink in his chest. “They’re afraid of me?”

  The almaealij alkabir nodded as he studied the sibyl boy, who shivered under the weight of his gaze. “Yes. In the same way they’re afraid of me, I suppose. Power, even to those with their own, can be an intimidating thing, after all. And, as you rarely go out or talk to any of them, they’re unsure of what it is you’re capable of or intend to do with all that power.”

  “But they have power, too,” Aderyn argued.

  “Yes, they do.” The almaealij alkabir glanced back at him and smirked, “Power that you made a show of neutralizing and mimicking.” He turned to face him, actually beginning to chuckle. “And mimic, I might add, at a higher level.”

  Aderyn looked away, feeling neither complimented nor proud at that moment. “And you neutralized it all in an instant,” he pointed out. “So why fear me?”

  “I did say they fear me, as well,” the almaealij alkabir admitted. “But, when all is said and done, I am known. My intentions are known. Even my potential, which is certainly not gazing upon many more years of possible growth, is known. You, Aderyn, are a mystery wrapped in an enigma and sheltered in a garage that isn’t large enough to comfortably fit another besides yourself and that loud machine you’re always tinkering with.”

  Aderyn frowned at that. Though, on many occasions, Tyler had joined him there to work on the car or talk of this-and-that, it was, as the almaealij alkabir said, more often him on his own. His “fortress of solitude” as some called it, though if this was a reference to something he didn’t get it.

  He blushed as he thought of Analetta occupying that garage with him.

  Then he thought of Analetta occupying that garage alone.

  With William, still angry with him, prowling around.

  Again his calculating eyes shifted in the direction of his garage.

  Then the almaealij alkabir’s own eyes followed. Then his eyebrows raised.

  “Analetta, eh?” the old man cooed as he shifted his focus for a moment to the sibyl boy. “Am I to assume you followed this Analetta here?”

  Though it was clear he didn’t want to, Lash nodded.

  “And this Analetta,” the almaealij alkabir’s gaze turned to Aderyn, “has not been discovered, has she?”

  Though it was clear he didn’t want to, Aderyn nodded.

  “And if we were, all of us,” the razor gaze pointed once again toward the garage, “to visit your favorite safe-haven?”

  Aderyn looked down, once again beginning to calculate.

  The almaealij alkabir sighed. “I see.”

  Opening his mouth to speak, Aderyn was startled to find the old man already holding up a hand to stop him.

  “I like you, Aderyn Phillipine Winds,” the almaealij alkabir confessed. “I like you more than I should—preferential treatment being something of a taboo for those in a place like mine, and all.” He hummed to himself as he scratched the bottom of his chin, “You remind me of…well, somebody else who was once brash and inclined to isolate himself for the sake of his studies. Though…” he tilted his head toward him, “…they had a better sense of fashion.” He laughed at this and shrugged. “But that was a different time.”

  Then, seeming to catch up with his years, the almaealij alkabir sighed and sagged his shoulders. “I think it’s clear that you’ve done wrong, and, should others come to find out the details of the wrong you’ve done, I think it’s clear what they’d have done for it.” He looked back at Lash, and Aderyn caught him staring at the bracelet of Analetta’s hair—still thrumming with the very essence of her—that the sibyl boy wore around his left wrist. “I don’t want to hear the details; do not want to even know them, you hear? I’d sooner go on liking you. But it would be better for you if you weren’t here come the new day.”

  Aderyn’s eyes widened. “Are you banishing me, Highest One?”

  The almaealij alkabir sighed again. “I am politely asking that you choose to leave us of your own accord and, in doing so, avoid what would befall you when others learn of what you’ve done.”

  Realizing what was being offered to him, Aderyn gave a single nod and looked down. A tear welled and rolled down his cheek. He knew more would follow soon enough.

  “Yes, Highest One,” his voice sounded as though passing around a sack filled with stones. It felt like it, too. “Thank you for everything.”

  The almaealij alkabir gave a nod that Aderyn more felt than saw, and he moved his body to face the Lash-sibyl. “And you,” he said, “would do well to not be here. Every moment from this point forward is a gift, boy; I suggest
you cherish them.”

  Surprisingly, despite the obvious fear, Lash glared at the almaealij alkabir. “What about Analetta?” he demanded.

  “If she is here,” the old man strained the word to emphasize an unspoken point, “and somebody is harboring her,” Aderyn felt his skin crawl as the words seemed to grow eyes just to glare back at him, “then I would hope that both of them have sense enough to leave with you.”

  At that, Lash’s gaze turned on Aderyn, and the almaealij alkabir’s soon followed.

  “I believe,” the almaealij alkabir whispered, “that we are all understanding of one another, yes?”

  The two young men nodded.

  “I swear to God,” Lash growled as he hurried to keep pace behind the young mage, “if you’ve done anything to hurt Analetta, I’ll—”

  “What?” The mage spun with such fury that Lash nearly crashed against his inflated chest. “You’ll do what, exactly? Hmm? Bleed on me? Snivel and cower me into a stupor? Or maybe you’ll go out and risk Analetta’s life all over again, you grand idiot. Go on. Go. Make your move, sibyl; do anything that might gain some attention. Hell,” he spread his arms and stretched his neck, exposing every vulnerable point that Lash was aching to drive his Bowie into, “just kill me now. Then you can find Analetta, secure a ride, and figure out a way out of this place. Right? That sound like a good plan? ’Cept—wait for it—you’d likely attract a little attention cutting me down, wouldn’t you? And between a numbskull like William doing that to you”—he jabbed a finger toward the angry-looking wound on Lash’s chest—“and the almaealij alkabir dragging your body and mind around like his own personal finger puppets, it’s fair to say that you wouldn’t get too far with every mage here aiming their sights on you.”

  He held up his pointer finger, saying, “And that’s only the first of the problems you’d face. Second would be finding Analetta without me.” He stepped aside and motioned toward the vast expanse of the city. “Care to go knocking on a door and asking if anybody’s seen another wayward sibyl? ’Cuz you fared so well upon your discovery, right?”

  He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “But that’s not the part you should be most worried about. No. See, if by some miracle you do manage to guess right on the first try, you’d have to figure out how to get the both of you out of this place.”

  He then made a point of looking around at the strange city, and Lash found himself realizing the futility of his previous plans.

  “And I’m guessing,” the mage went on, “that you’ve noticed this isn’t exactly a normal city. That’s because this is a pocket dimension—a world in and of itself that exists somewhere between a fraction-of-an-inch rip that mages tore through reality solely to exist outside of that world. Now, it’s because of that thing”—he nodded toward Lash’s bracelet—“that you managed to slip in here, and that’s because Analetta’s got some trippy curse that allowed her to slip in here.” He shook his head sternly.

  “But,” he took a step toward Lash, “she doesn’t seem to know how to control it outside of telling it ‘no,’ and, quite frankly, I wouldn’t trust what’s going on with her to deliver me safely on the opposite side of a busy street, let alone a tear in the fabric of reality. So, sibyl, with all that said, exactly how were you going to finish that sentence? How do you intend to threaten me?”

  Lash said nothing.

  The mage nodded and turned. “Exactly,” he called over his shoulder. “And Analetta’s fine, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

  Chapter 11

  Ana yelped as Aderyn burst through the door of his garage, already calling “We need to get out of here,” before he was all the way through.

  He’s lucky you didn’t ‘accidently’ get his heart out of his chest.

  Stop it.

  Ana caught Aderyn staring at her for a moment before he hurried past her.

  Leaving the door open?

  “Wh-what?” she stammered, still working to calm her racing heart and irregular breathing. “What happened? Who was—” she saw something emerge through the still-open door and turned to face…

  “Ana?” Lash looked almost doubtful upon seeing her, then, taking another step inside and looking all better for it, he said, “Ana.”

  “Oh, my. Lash? How did you…what did they do to you?”

  “A lot less than what they’re going to do to all of us if we don’t—say it with me, class—get out of here!” Aderyn repeated, already at his desk and scooping up all of his books.

  Lash was already rushing toward her, throwing his arms around her in a brief embrace before putting himself at an arm’s length to look her over. “Are you alright?” he asked before glancing over at Aderyn. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  Ana didn’t think anybody in the room didn’t hear “they” as “he.”

  This is getting painfully awkward, the thoughts chimed in Ana’s head, can we kill at least one of them to end this?

  “No,” Ana said, hoping that the word would answer both the thoughts’ and Lash’s questions and making sure Aderyn heard her, as well. Then, remembering the first half of Lash’s questions, she clarified with “I’m fine. Aderyn was…well, he’s been very accommodating and understanding.”

  “Understanding?” Lash frowned. “Understanding of what?”

  Oh my.

  Ana blushed and looked away, ashamed. “Of why I followed him.”

  She thought she saw Lash reach for his left hand, but he didn’t complete the gesture.

  “And,” his eyes shifted between her and Aderyn, who had begun stuffing his belongings into the trunk of his recently restored car, “why did you follow him?”

  This is like a bad car crash: horrible and intoxicating all at once.

  “Wanted my recipe for pulled pork, stud,” Aderyn interrupted, pointing back at the car. “Now let’s go. Both of you in the backseat.”

  Lash sneered at him. “Afraid us Sybii are gonna ruin the upholstery up front?”

  Aderyn rolled his eyes. “For starters, it’s leather. Respect. Second—and third—you might,” he motioned to his wound again, “and I plain don’t like you. Fourth, though, while I don’t mind you,” he nodded toward Ana, “I’m pretty sure anybody that catches sight of any sibyl who wasn’t the one recently flogged in the middle of the street will give away more than we want given away. However, if at all possible, I’d rather nobody catches sight of us, which is why—and I can’t believe I have to repeat this—you both need to get into the back seat so we can…” he drew in a deep breath before repeating, “Get out of here!”

  “How I appreciate your dedication and flair for the dramatic,” an old man called from the entrance of the garage as he slipped inside with a grace that had Ana questioning both his age and her eyes.

  And now we’ve got Father Time joining the party. If the Grim Reaper steps through the door be sure to get us an autograph.

  Seeing her gasp, the newcomer smirked—seeming proud of having scared her—and started toward the desk. As he past, he caught sight of the charm around Ana’s wrist and, wrinkling his nose at this, he glanced back at Aderyn, who shifted uncomfortably under the knowing gaze. Shaking his head—though there didn’t seem to be any real emotion driving the act—he finished his journey and retrieved Aderyn’s office chair before slowly dropping himself into it.

  “However,” he went on, “you’ll be relieved to know that your departure will go quite unnoticed.”

  Aderyn paused at that, and Ana saw his shoulders relax. Despite this, he still asked, “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I cast a sleeping spell across the entire city,” the old man said with such a casual tone that Ana had trouble connecting its simplicity with the complexity of the words’ meaning.

  Ana studied him for a moment, considering what the sleeping spell, one that had been meant for just one person, had done to Aderyn. This old man, though—while certainly not running any marathons—didn’t appear to be shaken or (the dark thoughts’
urge to laugh was growing) itchy for it.

  “You can do that?” Aderyn asked, clearly as skeptical as she was.

  “Bitch, please,” the old man barked, catching all three off guard. “I’m the almaealij alkabir; I’m about as OG as it gets. Of course I can do that.”

  What the what? Grandpa’s a badass.

  Aderyn stared at him for a long moment, disbelief and admiration shining off of him as obvious as the ceiling light’s glow.

  “Why did you follow us?” Lash asked as he moved to stand between the old man and Ana. “Did you change your mind about letting Ana and me live?”

  “Not at all, young man,” he answered, craning his neck to see past him. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

  “What about not wanting to know the details?” Aderyn asked.

  The almaealij alkabir shrugged. “Is an old man not allowed to change his mind?” he said.

  Aderyn seemed unnerved by that. “So what about wanting to like me? Did you change your mind about that, too?”

  “It would be difficult,” the old man said, giving a soft chuckle as he did, “to bring myself to dislike you in any circumstances.” Then, leaning toward Ana and Lash, he added, “Many of the mages here are quite dull, I assure you.”

  “Is that what you’d call them?” Lash asked as his hand absently moved up toward the giant red wound at his chest.

  The almaealij alkabir only shrugged. Then, catching sight of Ana, he paused to glance back Lash, seeming to pause on his left arm before chuckling again and saying, “In my day we recited poetry to girls.”