Blood Magic

by T. G. Ayer

  He glanced over at the house, wondering for the first time if Fulbright had really been onto something. Maybe he was on a slightly wrong track with shadowing Mel Morgan, but nonetheless, he had known there was something more to these disappearances. Saleem shook his head, trying to absorb the turn this case had taken. This information would be valuable to Omega, but for once he hesitated to pass it on. He had his own problems and to solve them, he planned on looking to the sexy Ms. Morgan. If anyone could help him, she could.

  Fulbright left the Reed's house and hurried down the path to the car, almost tripping over the uneven concrete. He threw himself into the car, waves of negative energy rolling off him as he gunned the engine.

  "What's wrong? Find anything?" Saleem knew he was expected to ask something. He was slowly learning more about the way the man worked. He liked to trail information like little crumbs.

  "Nothing." Fulbright grunted. "I searched the room and came up with nothing. How is that possible?" His eyes glittered with fury and his fingers tightened dangerously on the steering wheel.

  "So you think he's a runaway?" Saleem offered the option.

  The detective glanced at Saleem, irritated. "He didn't take anything with him. Not even his wallet or his money. What kid runs away without at least taking something with him?"

  Good question. Fulbright wasn't stupid. So he knew it was mostly likely an abduction. "We need to keep this under wraps. I don't want that Morgan woman finding out about it."

  "How would she find out?" Saleem asked, curious as to how the man came to his conclusions. Why would he immediately focus on Morgan?

  "Who the fuck knows. Every case I investigate, she's there afterward, doing her own little investigation." Bitterness simmered in his tone.

  "But that's after the case has been declared unsolved, right?" Saleem pointed out. It annoyed him the way Fulbright seemed so eager to pin everything on Morgan.

  "Yeah, whatever. Somehow she ends up finding out, and takes money from people to find their missing family."

  "So she's like a private detective or something." Saleem met the detective’s eyes.

  Fulbright snorted, although he flushed. "Some private detective. More like a scam artist." The detective drove off, eyes on the road, refusing to discuss anything further.

  Saleem used the time to consider Morgan's involvement. Were the families contacting her after the case had been closed without the missing people being found? And if so, how did they know to look for her? And how the hell was she finding them? Her track record was almost one hundred percent - person found, dead or alive. He could understand Fulbright's frustrations. But it solidified his decision even more.

  If anyone could help him find his own missing person it would be Mel Morgan. Now all he had to do was to get her to agree to do it.

  ***

  Chapter 14

  On the ride to see Nathaniel, Drake was a little too quiet.

  I glanced at him but he kept his eyes on the road as he drove. "Hey, sorry about Natasha. I didn't expect her to banish you to the porch."

  "It was fine." He bit the words out. Good sign. If he wasn't, his entire body would have said so.

  "The lemonade was nice of her." I waited for a reaction.

  "Yeah."

  I frowned. "What's wrong?" My tone was hard and impatient. He'd already had one tantrum and I'd given in to him. Now I was getting annoyed with his reticence.

  "What's wrong? This whole thing is wrong. Nathaniel is too powerful." His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "I just have a bad feeling about this."

  I shook my head. "Bad feeling or not, I still have to go. Samantha Cross is waiting and I don't think we can afford for her to be left waiting. Who knows what they will do to her while she waits for me to rescue her."

  Drake nodded and sighed. "I understand that. I do. It's just that my gut thinks this is a bad idea."

  I sighed. "I know. My gut agrees. Making deals with death sorcerers are not exactly my cup of tea. But he's the only one I know of who can help me with a spell against the blood magic ward." I sighed again. "He's my only option right now."

  "Okay then, let's do this. You ready?" He glanced at me, a worrying question in his eyes.

  I snorted. "As ready as I will ever be."

  ***

  The rest of the drive was silent as Drake drove through the streets, passing blue-collar and white-collar residential areas until we reached what qualified as gold-collar as far as I was concerned. We slid quietly through the streets, hemmed in by palatial mansions that loomed over high walls and dense tree-filled fences. When Drake drew up in front of a set of towering wrought iron gates I was sure he'd gotten the wrong address.

  "Is this the right place?" I laughed, looking at Drake as if he was kidding.

  "Yup, this is the address." Then he glanced at me, a dark look in his eyes. "At least I know you've never been to see Nathaniel before."

  I glared at him but turned my attention back to the gates. Not the best time for a spat. A speaker phone sat on a metal pole to the left of the drive. Drake got out of the car and went to it, speaking into the box. I watched the gargoyle, wondering why he was so accommodating all of a sudden. Not too long ago he'd been trying to talk me out of coming and now he was getting me access to the sorcerer.

  As Drake returned to the car, the gates began to swing open. My stomach clenched as we moved forward, closer to Nathaniel. Just because I was determined to see the man didn't mean I thought it was a fabulous idea. I bit my lip as Drake maneuvered the car along the winding drive. He stopped on the gravel beside the stairs leading to a wide porch. A pair of white Grecian columns flanked the entrance, rising all the way to the roof. Impressive.

  As we left the car, I scanned the grounds, landscaped and manicured gardens seemed to stretch endlessly all around the house. We hurried up the steps and I pressed the buzzer while Drake fidgeted beside me.

  "What did you tell them?"

  "Just that you needed to see Nathaniel and does he have some time available."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Very polite."

  "I'm trying to play a part here, okay?"

  "And what part is that?"

  "Resigned sidekick?" His voice held an edge of ice so I backed off. More important things to think about. But as soon as we got home I would have to sit Drake down for a nice long talk.

  The door opened, putting an end to our silent standoff. The thin, tall man staring at us wore a black suit, including a small black bow tie, his skin pasty as if he had forgotten what the sun was. "I believe you wish to see Master Nathaniel?"

  I blinked at his accent, so English and so posh. Everything about this address seemed so wrong. I'd come here to meet a necromancer. Where was the shadiness, the house with an air of gloom? I was disappointed that not a single dark and angry cloud wafted over the property.

  "Yes, I do." I nodded, feeling awkward. What else was I supposed to say?

  "Follow me, please." The butler led us into a large and airy lounge and gave a small bow. "The Master will be with you shortly." Then he left, giving us a final glance that made me certain he didn't like our presence too much. His cold eyes slithered over me before he turned and stalked out of the room.

  "Nice guy, huh?" I asked Drake, more to break the weird silence than a desire for conversation. My stomach writhed, as my nerves couldn't decide what to do with themselves.

  Drake grunted. "Be careful what you say and how you say it."

  I raised my eyebrows again. No nonsense, just a warning? Drake must be worried.

  Footsteps sounded in the hall and a man entered the room. He was resplendent in a pure white suit and a white silk tie. Even the white of his hair matched his attire. His fingers gleamed with silver and gold rings, and his ears were studded with stones. I swallowed as he strode closer, a hard glint in his bright green eyes. He had an odd look on his face, as if he wanted to say something then stopped himself. Then it was gone and I chalked it up to my jitters. He halted before me and he
ld out his hand. "Nathaniel Hawker. How can I help you?"

  Okay, so this was the necromancer I was here to meet. He didn't look like what I expected. Nothing here was what I expected. I took his hand. I didn't want to, but I didn't have much of a choice either. "Mel Morgan. And this is Drake Darvon." He gave my hand a swift, firm shake and then moved on to Drake. I'd heard it said you can tell a man by his handshake but right here, right now, I knew you couldn't tell a thing about Nathaniel from his grip. You'd be forgiven to think he was just an wealthy, eccentric old man. But he wasn't. Energy rolled off him in waves. Magical and dark.

  An ominous silence hung over the room and I turned to Drake and the necromancer beside me. Nathaniel still held his hand but he was staring at Drake, his green eyes sharp and cold. He took a breath, then let go of Drake’s hand, seemingly changing his mind about saying anything to the gargoyle. What was it with Drake today? First Natasha and now the sorcerer?

  Nathaniel turned away from Drake, piercing me with his cold eyes. "Please sit," he said, waving us at the long black leather couch behind us. He sat opposite us on the matching sofa. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared intently at me. "So tell me why you have come." His words were short and precise, as if he wanted to waste not a single minute with us.

  At first I hesitated, unsure of how to put my request into words. Then I decided I might as well be clear and upfront about it, no beating around the bush. "I need a counter spell. It's for a demon circle created with blood. My understanding is a circle like that can only be created with dark magic."

  Nathaniel nodded. "That is correct," he said, his eyes never leaving my face. "Can you describe the circle to me in as much detail as possible."

  I glanced at Drake, his eyes revealing a warning, but I returned my gaze to the sorcerer. I described the blood circle and watched as the necromancer's face grew darker, the skin at his eyes tightening. I tamped the urge to frown as I took in his reaction. He seemed much too upset. Too affected by my description.

  "Have I said something wrong?" I asked, not taking my eyes off his face.

  He blinked as if seeing me for the first time. "No, no. There is nothing wrong." And then he fell silent.

  I pressed further. "You seem upset about something."

  He shook his head, but his eyes darkened, and I could almost feel his anger. "No, not upset," he said. "It's just that what you have described to me is really dark magic, and I'm wondering where you would have come across something like this."

  I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him. "Does it really matter?" I asked.

  Nathaniel's gaze went from me and then to Drake. Then he rose and said, "I guess it doesn't really matter. After all, what matters right now is you came to me because you need something, so let me see what I can do about it." He spoke so formally that for a minute I was concerned. Then Nathaniel moved towards the door and said, "Would you like to follow me? It's best we do this in private." I nodded, and he spun on his heel and walked straight out of the door. Drake and I followed him, keeping close as he lead us further into the house. Dark wood paneling covered the walls halfway up. He came to a set of stairs that led to a lower floor, probably the basement. I hesitated for a split second before following him. Of course the necromancer would have a lair that would be underground. What else should I have expected?

  He descended the stairs slowly and at the bottom came to a stop in front of a pair of wooden doors set into a carved archway. As I neared it, I felt a wave of dark energy batter my body. His lair was protected by a dark magic spell, so strong I could taste blood. I needn't be concerned though, as Nathaniel would allow us to enter, thus ensuring the spell didn't shatter us to pieces.

  He touched the door and it swung open silently. Inside, the scent of sulfur mixed strangely with incense, tickling my nose as we followed the necromancer inside. Now this was more like it. Whether the mansion above was built on a warren of subterranean caves I did not know. All I knew was I was now within a cave, the walls of which glistened with a strange shimmering liquid.

  Nathaniel waved us inside, heading toward a gigantic wooden desk piled with bottles and bowls filled with an array of strange liquids. A timely reminder that we were essentially dealing with an alchemist gone bad. Nathaniel Hawker had originally begun his magical career as an alchemist, developing his talents in sorcery through the years. He'd had an illustrious career, a powerful mage admired and respected by those who knew what he was capable of. Unfortunately, he seemed to have lost the plot along the way, delving into the darkest of magics, bringing the dead back to life. Nobody doubted he was good at what he did. I didn't doubt it either. I just preferred not to meet any of his zombie monsters. Ever.

  The room pulsed with energy, a magical power that had a sense of darkness to it even I could feel. A glance over at Drake and it was clear he sensed it too. But we'd come this far. And from the looks of it we weren't going anywhere until this transaction was completed.

  "Can you come forward, Ms. Morgan?" Nathaniel's voice boomed across the room, the sound echoing against the stone walls.

  I blinked, startled at the power behind his voice. Looking over at him, I saw he'd donned a black robe that shrouded his face. All I could see were the shadowy angles of his jaw and the dark hollows of his eye sockets. I tamped down the urge to shudder and walked over to him. No use chickening out now.

  ***

  Chapter 15

  As soon as I stood before him, he hissed, raising his hands as if to protect himself from me.

  Then he laughed, the sound harsh against my ears. "I see you have secured magical protection." He laughed again and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. "If we are to continue, I will request you remove the talisman and leave it outside this room."

  I frowned and glanced over at Drake, whose face had darkened with concern. This was unexpected but it was understandable he would not welcome other magic into his private lair. I hesitated, then dragged the leather band over my neck, handing it to Drake, who took it outside for me. I wasn't too worried as Natasha had made it clear the magic would last for a few hours even if I removed the charm.

  And Nathaniel realized it as soon as I turned back to him. His face twisted with anger but he seemed to come to some internal decision. He took a deep breath and said nothing. Just beckoned me to move closer.

  When I got to the table's edge, he held out a black stone bowl that resembled a stone mortar. He met my gaze, his green eyes blazing. "I need your blood."

  I glanced from the bowl to his face and back again. Then I reached for the knife at my side.

  Nathaniel glanced at the knife, then at me. I looked at him waiting for an okay. Let him think he had the upper hand by giving me permission. As soon as he nodded, I unsheathed the knife and placed the tip on the vein at my wrist. I pressed, hoping the blade wouldn't fail and end up slicing into me.

  But I need not have worried. As I placed pressure on the blade, a thin line of red appeared on my skin. I glanced up at the necromancer. He watched me closely, his hands touching the table’s edge as if it was all that stopped him from lunging at the bowl to get his hands on the blood. He met my eyes and raised his chin, giving me another nod. I wasn't sure what that meant. Was he happy with the blood? Was he giving me permission to continue?

  I turned my attention back onto my wrist and continued the even pressure on my skin. The blood leaked, bright red and fresh, dripping into the bowl far too slowly for my liking. I wanted it all over and done with, but of course I had no choice but to wait until the show was over. Someone came to stand beside me and I glanced over, expecting to see Drake.

  My heart thudded as I looked up into a pair of icy green eyes. Nathaniel. He'd moved so quietly I hadn't realized until he was already there. I really should have been more aware of my surroundings. Now fear began to bubble within my veins as he remained there, silent as the dead he reanimated. The scent of his perfume tickled my nostrils. Something musky and sexy sweet and totally not suited to his dark arts
.

  He leaned over me, staring intently into the bowl, watching the rich red blood pooling in the base of the mortar. Then he sniffed at the bowl and a rush of terror spiked through me. He was smelling the blood. That was not supposed to happen. My heart thudded against my ribcage so hard I was certain he'd hear it. Could he smell the difference between human and bovine blood? He bent closer, his nose hovering above the bowl, and breathed in the scent of the blood and I knew I was in deep shit.

  He growled as he straightened and turned slowly to face me. A vein pulsed in his neck and his face hardened. "You would dare to cheat me?" His voice was low and dangerous and sent chills up and down my spine.

  He reached for me, his fingers gnarled and twisted, wrapping his hands around my neck. And then he squeezed. His eyes bulged and I could see the whites of his eyes gleaming. He lifted me off the ground, the weight putting more pressure on his grip. I struggled for air but couldn't take a breath. His fingers pressed deep into my throat and I blinked in terror. Stupid. At the time, using the fake knife had seemed like a good idea. Now not so much.

  An angry roar emanated from behind me and Drake slammed into Nathaniel, sending him crashing into the table. Dozens of bottles and books slid across the desk. Nathaniel flailed, his hands reaching out to grip the edge of the desk and avoid sliding across the surface. As he moved, his fingers hit the bowl containing the blood, sending it flying off the table. It landed on the ground with a harsh crack and split in half, spilling cow's blood all over the stone floor.