Blood Magic

by T. G. Ayer

  "You're not going to like this, Mel." She shook her blonde head as she tapped away at her keyboard, her ponytail swinging as she looked from one screen to another in front of her. Then she pointed at one of the four monitors and I swiveled to have a look. Six photographs filled the screen, one of them belonging to Samantha Cross. As I studied them, Steph tapped the enter button and another page of six photos came up. She tapped again and again; a few images were familiar - cases I'd tracked and found the people, some cases where I hadn't been able to bring home a living soul. At last she came to a screen that held a sickeningly familiar image.

  Arianne. My sister.

  "Whose files are these?" I asked, my voice tight. I hadn't missed the fact that all the images had file numbers and further details available by clicking on the file. "Did you hack into the CPD's files?"

  "Nope. This is Omega's."

  "What? Steph, are you insane?" I shuddered to think of what would happen to Steph, to all of us, should she be discovered.

  "Nope. This is where the trail led me." She shrugged, clearly not in the least concerned with being found. "Don't worry, they can't trace me. I'm piggybacking on one of the staff who's online right now. As soon as they log off I'll hunt down someone else who's online. Only problem with this type of hacking is it's limited to having someone working online within their system. As soon as everyone logs off we can't see anything."

  I was still in shock she managed to find a way into Omega's files. I cleared my throat. "Okay, so can you explain what led to you hacking Omega?"

  "Well, Drake wanted to look at the most recent files on missing persons and I pulled them. Only problem was there seemed to be more than we suspected. And many of the files had the Omega stamp on them. Seems a lot of the missing persons cases were handed over to Omega to investigate."

  "Probably looking for a paranormal aspect," I said, almost to myself, not taking my eyes off the screens.

  "That’s what I thought, so I decided what the heck. It was a good a time as any to hack Omega. So I did. And this is what I found. All CPD's missing persons cases, plus reports from across the country. I kept the age range search under eighteen just to narrow it down a bit, but once I hopped into Omega's mainframe it was pretty clear they'd done their own homework. Many files were marked N and re-filed, so I assumed maybe N stands for normal. The rest were marked P and those were the ones I just scrolled through for you. Here I assume P means Paranormal." Steph waggled her eyebrows. "The dudes at Omega aren't the most imaginative types, are they?"

  I wanted to laugh but my mind was focused on the photographs lining the bank of screens before me. "So apart from this, what was so huge you guys thought I'd be upset?"

  Steph and Drake exchanged worried looks.

  "Steph?" I said, my voice carrying an edge of impatience and annoyance.

  "Okay, okay." Steph waved her hands about as if to placate me in some way. Not that it worked. "Now look. I went on a hunch and scanned a few files and ended up pulling Ari's. Seems Omega had done their own investigation on her disappearance all those years ago. But her file is active at the moment. And so are all the other files marked P."

  "Active?" I asked nobody. "So Omega's been on the case all along, and they're still on the case. Okay, print some of those out for me. And let me see Ari's file as well."

  "Printing now," Steph said, her voice a salute to my instruction. Then she exchanged another glance with Drake and said, "So one thing you will notice is that some of the files have information about a sigil."

  That had my attention like nobody's business. "A sigil? like the one on Samantha's windowsill?"

  Steph nodded. "Like on Samantha's windowsill and also like on the sill of your bedroom when Ari was taken."

  I looked at Drake, understanding now why he'd been so uncomfortable. He'd know this would only drive me harder to find Samantha and he knew too that it would hurt me deep down. That knowing I might be on the trail of the same demon who'd taken my sister could possibly be a problem for me. It meant I was too close to the case. But who the hell was I supposed to pass the case on to? Not like I had a protégé hidden in one of the spare bedrooms.

  Steph got up to go to the printer and gather all the files together while Drake came closer. "What are you going to do next? If that demon was able to follow you, you really need to be more careful with your projecting, and even with your jumps."

  I met his eyes, steeling myself for the inevitable. "He wasn't a demon. And I'm going to need to see a necromancer."

  "What? You are kidding me right?" Drake glared at me, then his eyes narrowed. "What was that thing then if it wasn't a demon?"

  "He was undead. I'm guess a powerful sorcerer, strong enough to bring himself back from the dead. But he certainly didn't return to life with all his normal looks intact. He's one ugly mother, which is why he could easily be mistaken for a demon."

  "And what do you need a necromancer for, pray tell?" His eyes were chips of darkness daring me to give an unsatisfactory answer. "What about Natasha? She did the wards for the house."

  "Natasha is a white witch. A spiritual mage. She wouldn't touch this kind of magic even if her own life was in danger and it could save her." I shook my head. "There is only one person I can go to right now. I need a dark magician for the spell the demons cast around Samantha."

  "Why do you need a dark magician for that?" asked Steph as she placed the files on the desk in front of me.

  "Because the demons holding Samantha used a pentagram drawn in fresh blood. The sacrifices were of living things, not of nature. And by that I mean they used bones and blood as offerings for the spell. Nothing a white witch would want to work with." Drake was still shaking his head. And I did understand his hesitancy. Necromancers were dangerous. And you just never knew what they would want as payment.

  "I still don't think a necromancer is a good idea." Drake folded his arms and glared at me. His wide stance typical of when he got all stubborn and insistent on me.

  "Then where else am I supposed to go? You see any witches or alchemists around ready to help?" My questions were met with stiff silence as both Drake and Steph glared at me. "Okay, if it will make you two feel better I'll speak to Natasha and make sure she protects me. And maybe she will have some advice on the demons’ magic."

  I said the words but I didn't have my heart in it, and from the dark look in his eyes I suspected Drake could tell. Even Steph was too quiet as she reseated herself and pulled her keyboard toward her. Despite their misgivings, they both knew what I was up against.

  I had a kid in a demon plane trapped in a dark magic circle, an undead sorcerer on my trail and a bunch of missing persons with similarities to my sister's disappearance that I could not afford to ignore. Add that to my nemesis Fulbright, who was always on my ass and the probability of Omega investigating my cases alongside me, and I get a bunch of chips on my shoulder that certainly help give me the balls to go visit a necromancer.

  And it wasn't like I had the luxury of putting it off either.

  ***

  Chapter 11

  "You aren't going anywhere without me," said Drake from behind my desk as I walked into the study. My bag hung over my shoulder, all my weapons where they were supposed to be. I was ready to go see the necromancer.

  I raised an eyebrow and controlled my lips as they began to lift into a grin. Drake looked really serious but I didn't want to hurt his feelings by making him think I was making fun of him. I just said, "Playing the bodyguard now, are we?"

  Drake rolled his eyes, the dark grey of them glinting. His mouth didn't turn up with a hint of a smile like it usually did. He was dead serious. "I'm coming and you don't have a say."

  "You do know I can just jump and leave you behind, right?" I asked, crossing my arms, remembering too late that Drake took body language very seriously and he'd assume some kind of underlying reasoning behind my physical behavior. I knew I was right when his eyes flitted towards my crossed arms and his jaw hardened. But I didn't move. L
et him think whatever he wanted.

  "You could." He nodded, his expression dark. "And then I will leave."

  My chest tightened. I uncrossed my arms and moved forward to place them on the desk, coming face to face with the gargoyle. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, my voice harder and more serious now.

  "It means I refuse to stay with you if you keep running headlong into danger without backup," he said icily, a darker emotion edging the timbre of his voice. "Not to mention the fact that you just did six jumps in the last few hours, two of them jumping two people. Reckless, if you ask me."

  I glared at him, ignoring the mention of the jumps. I knew well enough how taxing they were on my body. "Nobody is forcing you to stay." I gritted my teeth. Why was he doing this now? Why was he delaying me when I needed to get going? I glanced at the table and tamped back the sudden urge to smile again. The surface of my work desk was littered with weapons and money. Otherworldly money. All the currencies we'd collected.

  Over the years I'd been paid with paranormal currency a few times - had a hard time saying no to people desperate to find their loved ones even when I knew it would be damned hard to convert. I sighed. "So what's all this?" I straightened and waved my hand at the contents of the desk.

  "Are you blind?" Drake asked, his voice holding an edge of ice. Wow, okay then. He was serious. I stayed silent. "I managed to find all the paranormal money we have. It may come in handy if the necromancer wants payment."

  I snorted. "What makes you think he'll want something as superficial as money?"

  Drake did a double take. "What do you think he would want then? I know you can pay them with money, so what do you mean?"

  "I can't be totally sure, but from the look of the pentagram holding Samantha, I'd say he'd be asking for blood, if not a life, in exchange for his help." I watched Drake's face as he paled. His skin, a dark inky blue, turned a cool grey.

  He glared at me. "So you're sure he's going to ask for blood but you're okay to go see him?" I opened my mouth to respond but he cut me off. "Blood magic is not a game you want to play." His voice echoed ominously around my office as if it had a life of its own.

  "Do I look like I have a choice? Samantha Cross's life depends on me right now. Every move I make gets me closer to releasing her, and if a visit to a necromancer and a little blood magic can get me there then so be it."

  Drake stared at me, the vein in his throat pulsing. I could tell he didn't want me to go, could see him struggling with his emotions. Then I sighed. "Fine, you can come with me. But don't get in my way. And don't get heroic or I swear I will jump you back home so fast you'll take days to remember you are still attached to your body."

  He nodded solemnly and began wrapping up the foreign notes. "I don't think we'll be needing those," I said. He raised his eyes, a question in his expression. I didn't answer. Just turned and said, "Bring the weapons."

  Drake followed me out to the car without a word. He strode towards the trunk, his neck stiff.

  Looks like I'm in for it.

  Drake was coming, but he wasn't coming quietly. Or rather, he was coming too quietly.

  As I walked towards the driver's door, he stepped past me and got inside. When he held his palm out for the key, I handed it to him without a fuss and walked around the car to get into the passenger side. Drake glared at me as I stowed my gear and buckled up. I guess it meant it wasn't going to be a fun ride. He put the car into gear and drove off.

  I glanced around, up and down the street. For once, I couldn't see the usual black sedan on stakeout. Fulbright must actually be busy with real police work. I had to admit the twinge in my belly was one of disappointment that the hunky Saleem was nowhere to be found.

  What was it about that guy that made me think bad thoughts? Sure, he was hot, and had a great bod, and all those sexy tattoos.

  Don't forget he's a demon, I reminded myself.

  Sure, he's technically a demon, but djinn have been part of the human world forever. I sighed. Just my luck there will be a law somewhere that says a mage can't have the hots for a djinn.

  I turned my attention back to Drake and studied his profile. Drake always stayed by my side. The last nine years. That's not to say he didn't go off on his own every now and again. But he always came back. He always came back to look out for me.

  I never asked him where he went or who he saw on his trips. He was always tight lipped about his family and friends, and to this day I still did not know how he ended up under Storm's protection.

  We'd gone head-to-head a few times in the past but it was not often that I saw Drake as upset as he was today. I sighed and said, "Okay, fine, we'll see Natasha before we go see the necromancer."

  "I knew you had no intention of seeing her, despite what you said to me and Steph." Drake kept his eyes on the road. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

  "No matter what you think of me, I don't like you to worry. So let's go see the white witch first. Who knows, maybe I could use a little white magic to counteract the dark."

  Drake snorted, but I didn't miss the small curve of his lips as he tried not to smile. He was cute when he smiled. Not my kind of cute, though. We really needed to find Drake a girlfriend. Drake's last paramour was as dark as they came. Maybe it's time to find him someone a little nicer and a lot more permanent.

  The car was silent as we made our way through streets guarded by overhanging elms and oaks. A normal street in a normal suburb just like any other. Who would imagine that a gargoyle and a mage had just driven by. I didn't break the silence, just enjoyed the quiet ride.

  I only paid attention once suburb became country. I enjoyed the sights of rows and rows of corn and whatever other green stuff it was the farmers planted. At last we turned onto an unpaved road and bounced around for at least ten minutes before we arrived at an abandoned farmhouse.

  Bordered on three sides by a forest of elms and oaks, the house looked ready to fall in on itself. Cracked and boarded up windows dotted the front of the building, while the porch stairs teetered dangerously. A stiff breeze sent an ancient rocking chair moving back and forth eerily.

  The house said 'stay away' and yet I didn't listen. I grabbed my bag and shut the car door. Drake did the same, following close behind me as I tried the stairs to the porch, hoping I didn't fall through. But the floorboards were firm under my feet and I smiled. Natasha was really good at her glamor magic. So good that sometimes even I couldn't see through it unless I paid really close attention.

  The air beside me shifted, and even before I looked, I knew that Drake would've gone invisible. I had always found the gargoyle's power to become invisible pretty cool. I nodded, knowing he would see me. Knowing too, especially since we had come to see the white witch, it was probably better if she didn't see him.

  ***

  Chapter 12

  I knocked lightly on the door and it opened almost immediately under my touch. I was a little startled and had to remind myself I'd come to visit a witch. Of course there would be magic around.

  Natasha smiled up at me, honey brown eyes beaming cheerfully, the morning light catching the silvery highlights in her pale hair. "Well, hello Mel. I had a feeling I'd be seeing you soon."

  "Of course, you would have a feeling." I snorted as she moved aside for me.

  I entered, turning back when Natasha remained at the door, her spine stiff. Uh oh. She stood on the threshold, staring out at the porch. Her stillness giving me a sinking feeling.

  "Now where do you think you are going?" she asked the air straight ahead of her. When she got no answer she laughed. "Don't stand there and think I can't see you."

  I grinned, wondering what Drake would do now. I could just imagine how uncomfortable he was, standing there all invisible and knowing Natasha still could see him. So much for his gargoyle magic.

  The air shimmered and Drake slowly became visible. He scowled as he stared at Natasha, although his eyes held a touch of embarrassment.

  "Thank you," she said. "And
now you can wait on the porch while Mel and I talk." She didn't wait for an answer. Just closed the door in his face.

  I chuckled. "Drake's not going to be very happy about that."

  The witch was unperturbed. "Well, unless he's come here on a personal visit, he is not coming inside. I don't allow dark creatures within the walls of my home. Not without a very good reason. And accompanying a friend is not one of them."

  I glanced at the closed door. "Poor guy. All he wants is to help."

  "He can help by sitting quietly on the porch and not disturbing me."

  I chuckled again, giving the door another fleeting look and thinking about the angry gargoyle just beyond it. "I don't think he's going anywhere anytime soon," I said.

  Natasha nodded and walked further into the hallway, her hips swaying in unconscious grace. For a witch, she was so down-to-earth it was disconcerting. How often did you meet a powerful witch who liked jeans and t-shirts and war games? She led me into a large sitting room. On my first visit here a long, long time ago, I'd been pleasantly surprised. The house was nothing like I'd imagined a witch’s house to be. Whitewashed walls, beautiful landscape paintings, antique vases and urns, and dozens of handcrafted rugs filled the house. I sank into a couch, leaning back against half a dozen cushions. Natasha seated herself opposite me and waited, her face serene, her white blonde hair framing her face and hanging down to her waist.

  I cleared my throat, feeling a little uncomfortable. I had figured I'd come to see Natasha, but hadn't exactly decided on what I needed from her. Not a very smart move.

  "So what can I do for you?" she asked, her expression curious, yet pleasant. It was a damned good thing this white witch liked me.

  "I'm not sure," I said. "This case I'm working on, part of it involves me hiring the services of a necromancer." I didn't miss the narrowing of her eyes or the tightening of her jaw. "I'm really not sure what I'm going to need when I go to him. But I do know what I'm asking him is going to cost me."