by James Swain
“Do I sound different to you?” Peter asked.
“Yes. Your voice has changed. And your eyes look weird.”
“How do I sound?”
“You sound evil, Peter, and it’s scaring the crap out of me.”
Milly’s words again rang in his ears. Being good or evil was a choice. It sounded easy, only the evil had kidnapped his soul, and would not release it.
“Maybe I am evil,” he replied.
He expected her to run away. Instead, his girlfriend wrapped her arms around his waist and gazed longingly into his eyes. “No, you’re not. You’re the most wonderful boy I’ve ever met. Now, please do this for me.”
“Why should I,” he heard himself say.
“Because I love you, that’s why.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
He read her thoughts. Despite the nightmare he’d put her through, Liza still loved him. It was the only thing he’d ever wanted, and he pushed the demon back into the farthest reaches of his soul. It was like pushing a boulder, and took all his strength.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he said.
“Good. Then stop him.”
“Hey! He’s going up to the roof,” Snoop called out.
The wooden stairway that led to the roof was located beside the stage. Snoop was chasing Wolfe up the creaky steps by the time they reached him. Soon the three of them were standing on the theater’s flat roof with its view of the gloomy Hudson.
“There he is,” Snoop said.
Wolfe stood on the other side of the roof next to the building’s ventilation system. He’d removed the bomblet from the knapsack, and held it above the system’s powerful fans. If the nerve agent touched the fans, it would be distributed into the air, and spread across the city.
“Stay here,” Peter said.
“Be careful,” Liza said.
Peter sprinted across the roof. He needed a distraction, something to take Wolfe’s mind off his deadly mission. Garrison had said that they’d found a girlfriend’s snapshot in Wolfe’s wallet. What was her name? Rona. No, it was Rita.
“Don’t you want to see Rita?” Peter shouted.
Wolfe’s head turned slightly, his face filled with pain. It was the first expression he’d shown. Even the dead know love, Peter thought.
Peter kept coming toward him. “Don’t you?”
The pain in Wolfe’s eyes grew more intense.
“I can take you to her,” Peter said.
“She’s here?” Wolfe asked.
“She’s downstairs waiting for you.”
“That’s a lie.”
“She’s in a limo by the curb. Take a look if you don’t believe me.”
The temptation was too great. Wolfe moved away from the fans, and glanced over the side of the building. Peter seized the opportunity and ripped the bomblet from his grasp. He tossed the deadly device through the air to Snoop.
“Catch!” Peter said.
“You’re not funny,” Snoop said.
Wolfe spun around, and they began to fight. The images of Madame Marie and Reggie flashed through Peter’s mind, and the demon inside of him reared its ugly head. He grabbed Wolfe by the throat, and lifted him clean off the ground. He shook the dead man, and broke every bone in Wolfe’s body that wasn’t already broken. The dead man’s teeth flew out of his mouth, and his shoes fell off his feet. His head spun from side to side like a rag doll.
Peter gazed into the dead man’s eyes. The elders of the Order had been jostled out of their chairs. Their masks had come off, exposing their faces. The elder in the middle had a twisted nose and crooked teeth. He’d finally found his parents’ killers.
“I have a score to settle with you,” Peter said.
He gave another violent shake, causing the walls around the elders to collapse. They screamed for mercy, something they’d never given to their victims. By the time the dust had settled, they were lying motionless in a heap.
It was over. Peter let Wolfe slip from his fingers. Then, he summoned all his strength, and forced the demon back into its hiding place. He could deal with this, he told himself. It was just going to take some getting used to.
He crossed the roof to where Liza and Snoop stood. His girlfriend had buried her face in her hands, unable to watch. Snoop shook his head in disbelief.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Peter said.
Liza lowered her hands. “Are we safe? Is the city safe?”
“Yes, we’re safe.”
Tears ran down her face. She’d witnessed a side of him that no one was supposed to see. Without a word, she turned her back, and slipped into the stairwell.
“Liza, wait.”
“No, Peter. No,” he heard her say.
Snoop edged up beside him, clutching the bomblet to his chest.
“Remind me to never piss you off,” his assistant said.
59
“Hey, superman. You okay?”
Peter sat on the edge of the ventilator system, getting soaked by the rain. An hour had passed since he’d shaken the evil spirit out of Wolfe, enough time for the FBI to take away the nerve agent and the dead man’s body. The numbness had still not worn off.
Garrison sat down beside him, and handed him a Coke. The tension was gone from the FBI agent’s face, and he looked like a new man. “You look like you could use this.”
Peter took a long swallow. “Thanks.”
“You should come inside. It’s cold and damp up here.”
Peter did not reply. There were events in a person’s life that changed everything. This was one of them, and he needed to be alone for a while to sort things out in his head.
“You saved a lot of lives today. You need to go out and celebrate. Life is good.”
“I had nothing to do with this, remember? You promised me that,” Peter said.
“What am I going to tell my bosses?”
“Make up a story. That’s what they do in the government.”
Garrison laughed under his breath. “Whatever you say.”
Peter gazed out at the gloomy Hudson. A barge was making its way up the river so slowly that it didn’t appear to be moving. He felt Garrison’s hand on his shoulder.
“Listen. I know something bad happened up here, and you’re hurting inside, but life goes on. Tomorrow you’ll feel a little better, and the next day, you’ll feel even better. That’s how it works. Eventually you’ll heal, and whatever happened will be nothing more than a bad memory.”
Peter drained his soda. Garrison meant well, but he was wrong. He’d lost Liza, and there was no getting her back. She’d seen the demon inside of him, and nothing could change that. Their relationship was already on shaky ground. Now, it was finished.
“Thanks for the pep talk,” Peter said.
“Something tells me you don’t believe me.” Garrison slapped him on the back. “I’m sorry, man. You don’t deserve this. Whatever it is.”
The barge blew its horn. It was loud enough to raise the dead, and Peter laughed silently to himself. That was the last thing he needed right now.
“Time to head out,” Garrison said. “Let me walk you down.”
If this had been a movie, he and Garrison would have gotten drunk in a smokey bar right about now. Instead, he followed the FBI agent downstairs and walked outside the theater. The city was showing signs of life, with taxis racing past, honking their horns as they fought for fares. Across the street, his limo was parked at the curb. He’d called Herbie, and asked him to take Liza and Snoop home. He wondered why his driver was still here.
“It’s been a pleasure, my friend,” Garrison said.
“Glad to help,” Peter replied.
A Lincoln Town Car came down the street and braked in front of them. Garrison hopped into the passenger seat. He started to close his door, then caught Peter’s eye.
“Things will get better,” the FBI agent said. “They always do.”
“How can you be so sure?” Peter asked.
“You’re not the only person who can see into the future. You take care of yourself.”
Peter managed a smile. He’d always tried to find the bright side to every situation. Garrison was a good guy, and someone he could trust. He’d found a friend.
“You too,” he said.
* * *
It was time to go home.
Peter crossed the street to where his limo was parked. The engine was running, and he saw Herbie slouched behind the wheel as if taking a nap. That wasn’t like him, and Peter jerked open the passenger door.
“Herbie, are you okay?”
The breath caught in his throat. Herbie was out like a light. In the backseats, Liza and Snoop lay on their sides with their eyes firmly shut. He shook them, and got no response. Was this the Order of Astrum’s payback for what he’d done? Hadn’t he killed those bastards?
“They’re not hurt, if that’s what you’re thinking,” a voice said.
Peter pulled himself out of the limo. Holly stood beneath an umbrella on the sidewalk with a mischievous grin on her face. This was her doing.
“You didn’t hurt them…”
“Your friends are fine. By the way, Max and I watched you dismantle Wolfe at the apartment. You were amazing.”
Holly had a devious side to her; all witches did. He put his hands on her shoulders, and looked her squarely in the eye.
“Please tell me what you did to them,” he said.
“I cast a spell on your friends. The potion once belonged to Mary Glover. It never fails.”
“What kind of spell?”
“One that will make your life much easier.”
Her eyes were twinkling, daring him to figure out the clever thing she’d done.
“You erased their memories,” he said.
“Go the head of the class,” Holly said. “When your friends wake up, they’ll no longer remember any of the things you’d rather not have them know. I included your driver, too. You have a clean slate. Let no good deed go unrewarded.”
“I think you got the expression wrong.”
“I like mine better.”
Holly had saved him. He didn’t know how to thank her. Taking her hands, he gazed into her pretty face. She seemed embarrassed, and looked away.
“Why did you do it?” he asked.
“You didn’t deserve what was happening to you,” she replied.
“This gives me a second chance with Liza. You had to know that.”
Her cheeks were wet, but not from the rain. Her voice wavered as she spoke. “I realized something years ago. You were babysitting me, doing your magic tricks. I was being difficult, and not playing along. It bothered you, and you left in a terrible mood. That night, I figured out why. You’re easily the most unhappy person I’ve ever known. The tricks and clever one-liners are how you cope. You make other people happy to compensate for your unhappiness.
“But then you met Liza, and you changed. You were finally happy, and I was so happy for you. Don’t get me wrong. I would have given anything to have made you that way. But I didn’t. It was her. She was the one that stole your heart. That’s why I did it.”
“For me.”
“Yes, Peter, for you. Oh, look. Your driver is starting to wake up. The others will soon follow. You should be there when they come out of the spell. It will make things easier for them.”
“What should I say?”
Holly wiped away her tears. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Holly had figured out his secret. And she’d protected him, as best she could.
“Thank you,” he said.
She started to walk away. “See you Friday night at my aunt’s.”
“I’ll be there,” he replied.
* * *
Peter climbed into the backseat of the limo. Herbie had come to, and was wiping the cobwebs from his eyes. He looked slightly confused.
“Sorry about that,” his driver said. “I must of dozed off.”
“No more sleeping on the job. Put some opera on, will you?”
“Opera? Sure, whatever you say, boss.”
Peter poured glasses of sparkling water for Liza and himself, an ice-cold Heineken for Snoop. He placed the drinks in holders for when they came out of Holly’s spell. Placido Domingo’s booming voice came over the limo’s state-of-the-art speakers. Liza stirred.
“Hey, sleeping beauty, rise and shine,” he said.
Liza slowly woke up. Gone from her face were the anger and distrust that had built up over the past few days. Life was good again.
“Boy, was that a weird dream,” his girlfriend said. “Who put on the opera?”
“I asked Herbie to.”
“That was sweet of you. Looks like it’s finally stopped raining.”
They looked out the window together. The storm had broken apart, leaving a vacant, slate blue sky. Like a curtain rising inside a theater, a new act was about to begin. He could start being a magician again, and forget about the evil that had consumed his life.
Snoop snapped awake, and grabbed the waiting glass of beer.
“Service around here is definitely improving,” his assistant said.
They laughed. It was all back to normal. The greatest trick of all, he thought.
“Here’s to the best friends in the world,” he said.
“I’ll drink to that,” Snoop said.
“Me, too,” Liza said.
They clinked glasses. Peter’s drink burned going down. The searing ache in his heart was still there. He’d been living a lie, and it had nearly destroyed his relationship with Liza. He had to come clean with her before it happened again. The voice of his conscience told him to do it right now. He put his glass in the holder, and took her hand.
“I want to take you out to dinner. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“Sounds mysterious. I’m game,” she said.
Peter breathed a sigh of relief. That hadn’t been so hard, had it? He glanced across the seat at Snoop, and raised his eyebrow suggestively.
“Holy cow, look at the time,” his assistant said. “You two have a nice night.”
Snoop hopped out of the limo. He rapped his hand on the roof before walking away. Peter promised himself that someday, he would tell Snoop as well.
“Let’s roll,” he told his driver.
The limo glided down the street. Peter turned to Liza. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Me, too. Where do you want to eat?”
Liza snuggled up next to him, and rested her head on his shoulder. Her face was so close that he could feel her breath on his skin. Tomorrow morning they’d wake up together, and her face would be the first thing he’d see, her voice the first thing he heard. If he was honest with her, it would be that way for the rest of his life. If he’d learned anything during the past few days, it was that there could be no secrets between people in love. No secrets at all.
“Surprise me,” she said.
ALSO BY JAMES SWAIN
JACK CARPENTER BOOKS
Midnight Rambler
The Night Stalker
The Night Monster
The Program
TONY VALENTINE BOOKS
Grift Sense
Funny Money
Sucker Bet
Loaded Dice
Mr. Lucky
Deadman’s Poker
Deadman’s Bluff
Wild Card
Jackpot
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
James Swain is the national bestselling author of fourteen thrillers. His novels have been translated into French, Japanese, Russian, German, Bulgarian, and Croatian, and have been chosen as Mysteries of the Year by Publishers Weekly and Kirkus Reviews. Swain has received three Barry Award nominations, a Florida Book Award for fiction, and the prestigious Prix Calibre .38 Award for Best American Crime Writing. An avid magician, he has written and lectured extensively on the subject.
This is a work of fiction. All of the charact
ers, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DARK MAGIC
Copyright © 2012 by James Swain
All rights reserved.
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
e-ISBN 9781429998611
First Edition: May 2012
