The necromancer reappeared, dimly. “The fools. Whoever did this could have permanently upset the balance of the realms. There’s a reason we don’t let just anyone cross over the veil. Especially here.”
“Because magic’s stronger here,” I said slowly. “The veil’s thinner. It opened before…”
In the invasion. The veil opened along with the doorway to Faerie.
Could that be the link? How? Faerie was a whole other plane than the afterlife. But opening the door to either realm required a tremendous amount of energy concentrated in one place. I’d never found out how they opened a way through the first time. Nor how I’d got back. Those memories were a blur—even now I wished I remembered.
The afterlife, mortal and faerie realms overlapped. I knew that. Death and Faerie seemed polar opposites. Faeries couldn’t die. But they could be exiled to a place beyond Faerie, beyond life itself. Beyond Death? Maybe.
Maybe I was on the wrong track. Coming up with wild theories nobody would believe. But… could necromancers cross into that place, as well as Death? It was the one link I could see, aside from the appearance of the half-faerie ghost.
Angry swearing sounded from the circle. The necromancer reappeared, and his expression showed alarm and anger twisted together before a grey light streamed out from the circle.
Three undead walked out from behind the nearest grave, surrounded by faint blue smoke. Immediately, several necromancers ran, breaking the circle, but more undead appeared, blocking their paths. Like they’d been hiding here the whole time.
Faerie glamour.
I cursed, running at the nearest and swinging my blade at one of them. Its wrists flew wide, severed, but the bastard kept stumbling at me until I severed the top of its skull. Very luckily, what was left of the brain had long gone, but the stench made me gag.
Vance sent pieces of the other two undead flying with a single, deadly swipe of his sword. I’d have called him a show off, but another attacked me. So many necromancers were here, the undead were more than outnumbered. It’s a distraction. And the necromancers had fallen for the ruse, running around like frightened kittens. Their absolute lack of control surprised me. With their leader struggling within the circle, nobody seemed to know what to do. Salt flew everywhere, but even that wasn’t enough to put down all the undead at once.
I made for the circle. The head necromancer was still somewhere inside—
Vance appeared in front of me, his hands blackened with newly forming scales. He struck an undead so hard he sent it flying halfway across the cemetery, splayed across the top of a grave. His lips twisted in a snarl as he turned to me. His eyes were glazed, like he looked at something far away.
“Real scary,” I said, heart thumping. Actually, yeah, he was pretty fucking scary. Black scales continued to spread up his arms, but his hands remained at his sides, his eyes wide and staring.
“Vance?” I asked uncertainly.
I gasped as a grey film covered my vision. Suddenly, the cemetery around me became muted, covered in what looked like a filter. Shapes moved underneath, too pale and indistinct to properly make out. Spirits? Even Vance disappeared, as did the graves. Like I wasn’t in this world any longer.
No. Not again.
Like a dam had burst, like the sight of grey flooding the world flipped a switch, the memories came back.
The sky was dark as tar, marked with angry clouds. The roads were equally grey, slapping against my heels as I ran, ran like hell itself pursued me.
Hell caught up at the street’s corner, smoke wrapping around my ankles, tripping me. My knees struck concrete and I screamed, fighting against the bonds that held me.
“Don’t cry, little girl,” whispered a low, melodic voice. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Then the most beautiful man I’d ever seen stepped out of the shadows and smiled at me.
No. I’m not here. This isn’t happening.
Something hard and sharp dug into my arm. I blinked, and the smoky scene faded out, replaced by graves, and a clawed hand wrapped around my arm.
“Hey—what?” I gawped at Vance. He’d actually drawn blood when he’d grabbed me, but his wide eyes still didn’t seem to see me. His face was pale, his pupils still dilated. “Vance, quit that.” I tugged at his hand, which slowly loosened as he appeared to become aware of his surroundings. Had he seen into the past, too?
“Ivy.” He looked down at his hand, horror flashing across his face. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Er. Yes. But a shout from behind made us both spin around.
The head necromancer stood over two prone bodies in the circle, while other necromancers surrounded them. Hoods fell back, revealing frightened faces. Maybe Vance and I weren’t the only ones the spirit world had tricked.
“Who are they?” Vance’s authoritative voice returned as he strode forward. “The traitors?”
“Cowards,” spat the head necromancer, indicating the two apparently unconscious men at his feet. “They always feared death.”
Necromancers afraid of dying? How the hell did that make sense? Then again, I supposed you didn’t choose whether you were born with the spirit sight or not. Didn’t mean I felt sorry for them. I was still reeling from what I’d seen.
“Leave them to me,” said Vance.
“They’re my people,” said the necromancer. Smoke swirled around him and for a second, I thought he might actually attack the Mage Lord.
Then he collapsed.
Other necromancers swept forward. “He’s exhausted his powers,” someone shouted. “Can we have help over here?”
“Not from us,” I muttered. “Vance—”
The Mage Lord shoved two necromancers aside to drag the body of one of the fallen traitors out of the circle. “I’ll deal with these two.”
His overly calm tone made shivers run down my back. No trace remained of the fear in his eyes as he’d relived god-knew-what the veil had shown him.
What had he seen? Something worse than I had? Whatever scared Vance Colton was an adversary I didn’t want to meet.
Chapter 18
Vance must have had backup waiting around a corner, because he had only to bark an order into his phone and a black car pulled up. He threw the prisoners bodily into the back and climbed in after them, leaving me to ride shotgun.
Unfortunately, the driver was none other than Ralph, Vance’s faerie guard. He gave me a glare as he started the car. “You’re still here?”
I was far from in the mood for arguing. “Yes.”
He grunted. “Thought the Mage Lord would have kicked you out by now.” He spoke in a low voice. In the mirror, Vance appeared to be watching both prisoners. His eyes were narrowed to slits, and a hint of black remained on his hands.
“It’s my case we’re solving.”
“Thought you were looking for missing kids, not necromancers.”
“It’s none of your business, faerie.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Don’t call me that.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” My anger began to simmer again. “Your people are trying to do something dangerous. They’re working with necromancers.”
“They aren’t my people,” he said. “Besides, that’s total bollocks. All the half-faeries hate the necromancers. They’re the reason nobody can get back to Faerie.”
I stared, my rage fading slightly. “Because the necromancers closed the way back.” Just like they had the veil…
The faerie and mortal worlds overlapped with the veil right here. On the Ley Line.
“Everyone knows that. Which planet have you been on, hedge witch?”
“That’s enough.” Vance’s voice was low, dangerous. “It might have escaped your attention that there are two dangerous criminals here.”
“She accused me of working with the faeries.”
“I’m not interested,” said Vance. “Save your squabbling for later.”
“We’re not children.”
/> “Then act like it.”
The car pulled up outside a squat red-brick building I recognised as the local jail in mage territory. Ralph continued to mutter to himself, but stopped abruptly as Vance, and the two captives, disappeared.
I blinked. “Why bother using the car if he planned to do that?”
“Maybe he wanted you to come with him,” said Ralph, who didn’t look at all surprised. “Can’t imagine why.”
I undid my seat belt and opened the door. “I’m the one in charge of this case, faerie boy.”
“Stop calling me that!”
His shouts followed me as I marched to the building. The door swung open, but Vance wasn’t in the reception area. He’d presumably told the person at the desk I was coming, because the guy jerked his thumb at a nearby door. Through the glass window, I saw Vance in the act of throwing one of the captives into a cell.
I opened the door and joined him as he threw the second prisoner after the first, closing the cell door on them. The dimly lit corridor cast him into shadow, making him look like a menacing stranger. I shivered, telling myself it was the sudden coldness of the jail.
Vance turned to me. “Do you have anything you want me to ask them?”
“What, apart from how they took those kids into Death?”
“We know how they did it. The children were part necromancer. They had the instinctive ability already.” His eyes shone in the dark, grey as an oncoming raincloud.
“Yeah.” I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Not least because being this close to the prison cells made the shivers creeping up my spine a hundred times worse. I stepped away, the cold dampness of the corridor wall pressing against my back.
Vance pulled an object out of the air. Not a weapon. It looked like a spell—black and pointed, like your standard magic wand.
“Wake up,” he commanded, and activated the spell by pointing it directly at the prisoners. The flurry of power made the hairs rise on my arms, and the two men startled awake as suddenly as though he’d tipped a bucket of icy water on their heads.
As for Vance, even with his back turned to me, power radiated off him like lightning on water. The two prisoners cowered away from him. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to remain steady at his side.
“I am Lord Vance Colton, leader of the mages, and if you don’t give me the truth, I’ll know. Did you take two teenagers with you into Death?”
A pause. The guy’s mouth dropped open, while the second looked like he’d been hit by a hellhound’s fear spell. “Yes.”
“Who gave you the order?”
“A spirit. Fey.”
“Faeries can’t die,” said Vance.
“A half-faerie,” I said.
Vance barely glanced at me, but something in his stance sharpened. He knew… he must know I was holding back information.
“You took orders from a spirit? Ghosts cannot harm anyone. Yourselves, least of all. What did he offer you?”
“Let me guess,” I cut in. “Immortality. That’s what he offered you. Right?”
This time, Vance did look at me. But he didn’t speak to me. To the prisoners, he said, “Is that true?”
Two nods.
“And on whose orders? A faerie with an ash blade, right? Did you see him?” I couldn’t stop myself this time. Too many people had been hurt already. We needed to know the enemy. Now.
“The Lord of the Grey Vale.”
“A faerie lord,” said Vance. “What is his interest in humans?”
Good question. Most faeries didn’t care, not even if they had half-blood children.
“He doesn’t care for humans,” said the man. “Only—our world. Our energy. He appeared over the veil…”
In Death? I stared at him, unable to hide my shock. Faeries—a faerie who could walk into Death? I supposed it was an incorporeal world, and faeries weren’t great at obeying the human laws of metaphysics, but…
“Tell me his name,” Vance commanded, apparently disregarding this.
“Velkas. You can’t reach him. He walks wherever he likes. He’s probably here right now. You’ll be next, now you know his name.”
“I see.” Vance made a gesture as if to swat a fly. The two men fell, blood spurting from their arms and chests as though sliced by an invisible sword.
“Holy shit!” I stumbled back. I’ll never get used to the shock when you watch a life taken right in front of you. Especially when you’re standing by the person who pulled the metaphorical trigger. “They might have had more to say.”
“They don’t now.”
Wow. That was cold. I stared at the two men, but Vance made no move to take the bodies from the cell. He tossed the keys to the ground with a disinterested expression.
“So much for an interrogation.” I was curious as hell what he might have witnessed in the cemetery, but I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t allow him his own secrets. Still, a morbid curiosity persisted. Everyone feared something, but Vance Colton hadn’t batted an eyelid at the creepy factory. Why should a graveyard be any different? What had he seen? Was that why he’d gone into scary-ass mage mode?
“They were no use to us.” He ran a handkerchief down his blade. “You’re shaking.”
“You killed two people in front of me,” I spluttered. “You’re—you’re the leader of the mages. You’re supposed to stand for justice, not senseless slaughter.” I’d expected him to give them a trial at the very least.
“That was justice,” he said, his voice chillingly low. “This is a dangerous world we live in.”
“No shit. I’m the one who told you that.” I knew I was overreacting. I was a killer. I worked with killers. But I’d never seen a human react so casually to taking lives. I’d only seen one person do that. His face flashed before my eyes again, fresh from where I’d seen him behind the veil. “I don’t kill people,” I said loudly, willing the vision to go away. “I’ve never killed a human. Or a half-blood faerie, come to that.” Sure, if they deserved it…and yeah, those two guys had.
Didn’t mean the image of chilling calmness on Vance’s face would go away so easily.
“I wouldn’t make restrictions. You never know what you might have to do.” He stepped back. “We’re done here.”
“What did you see?” I couldn’t help it: the words burst out of me. “The veil showed you something—right?”
“Does that mean you’re going to share what you saw?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Even now, the words wouldn’t come.
“The veil is thinner,” he said, apparently taking my silence as an answer. “At certain points on the Ley Line, it clearly carries an imprint. The necromancers say places that have seen a lot of death carry the memory with them, usually visible only to those with spirit sight.”
“So… someone’s screwing with the energies of all three realms at one of these key points.”
“Death and Faerie,” said the Mage Lord. “Both are stronger close to the Ley Line.”
Damn. He was smart. He’d already come to the same conclusions as me with none of the knowledge I had. At this rate…
“That may be,” I said, “but neither of us can cross over, and the necromancer leader’s out for the count. We’ll have to ask one of the others to do it.”
“Crossing over nearly killed their leader,” he said. “But we know who the enemy is now, and they’re in this realm.”
His sharp eyes told me his intentions.
“The faerie… the one the half-blood mentioned,” I said. “You heard what the Lady of the Tree said. He’s promising them their home back. As to how they plan to open the way through… no idea. I thought it was impossible.”
Like faeries walking into Death.
The impossible had become everyday. No denying it. There was no more running. Not for me. I had to face the faeries head-on, no matter what it took. Even if it meant my death. Even if it meant going back.
The thought made violent shivers rack my body. Was I strong enough to
survive the faeries a second time? I’d be a fool to assume otherwise. Those kids needed me. And yet…
Velkas. He walks wherever he likes.
“What is it?” said Vance sharply as I backed away, fetching up against the closed door.
“I—I need to check on Isabel. I got a bad feeling.”
Really bad. Paranoia, I hoped, but given the way things were going…maybe not. She wasn’t at home, but in hospital. Which wasn’t warded like our house was.
“You’re not leaving alone again.”
“The faeries showed up at my house twice already. Isabel’s in hospital and I—”
Vance’s phone rang. He made an impatient noise, and another as I gave him a pleading look. His hand closed on my arm, and we disappeared.
He’d gone before I could turn around. I cursed when I saw he’d left me on my own road. Should have asked him to take me to the hospital instead.
But the wards outside our house, normally bright, had gone dull. Blue smoke spun around me, and I pulled out my sword, running through the garden.
“Your friend isn’t here,” whispered a voice.
A long, spindly faerie uncoiled itself from the overhang above the front door.
“She shouldn’t have opted to go to a mortal hospital with us here.”
“What the hell did you do to her?”
No. Not her. Please.
“My master needs the skills of a witch to protect himself when we pierce the veil.”
No. Shit. Not Isabel.
“So that’s your plan,” I said, my voice oddly calm. “Open the doors to Faerie and the afterlife at the same time. Didn’t millions of humans die twenty years ago when the same happened?”
“That is not my concern.”
“I thought not. Did—” I glanced up at the window, but couldn’t see anyone behind the doors.
“Your other friends aren’t here,” he said. “Pity they didn’t show up before you did.”
“You bastard.”
I considered asking what he’d done to Erwin. Hopefully the idiot piskie had hidden itself away. Nobody would die on my account. Especially not Isabel.
The cost of keeping my past quiet wasn’t worth her life.
Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1) Page 18
