New Spark (Dark Magic Enforcer Book 3)

by Al K. Line

  Their pale faces shone with bloodlust, lips full and red, emanating that unsettling vibe that always makes you want to look over your shoulder like someone is behind you, ready to tap you on the shoulder and say, "Boo!" Well, nothing could be worse than having two thirsty vamps in front of you, unless that thing was more than two.

  I watched, mesmerized for a moment, as their lips parted in unison, revealing canines dripping with vampire venom, a pale milky liquid that can entrance you and glamor you more than their eyes if you focus on the sparkle and the shine, the promise of what it can deliver if they bite you and allow you to live to make the choice—immortality or death.

  A mental shield slammed down hard and fast as tendrils of insanity crept into my mind, their attempt to control me and send me screaming into the night as their true nature was revealed. I brushed it off, snarling at their pathetic attempts to control me. They flinched slightly, unused to such a rebuff, but recovered from the surprise quickly enough.

  The male, tall and angular, long hair like dark moss on an old oak, licked his lips. It was weird. I could taste the poison, taste the promise it offered, the pain it guaranteed.

  "Time to say goodnight," said the woman, voice of an old vampire, echoing around my skull like she had a forty a day habit and didn't plan on quitting any time soon.

  I sneered at them. My best one, a real lip-curler. "You got that right." Pain engulfed me as my right arm turned as crimson as my shirt, the darkness of my tattoos overflowing with magic, exploding red as it almost doubled in size, jabbing out as fast as they could move, going right through the male and out the other side.

  Empty of emotion, I looked into his eyes. I saw the realization, that he didn't know who the hell he was messing with. The confidence vanished in a wave of agony that contorted his features, as his blood washed over me and bubbled as my magic intensified.

  His flesh smoked, and blood dripped from his eyes down his cheeks while I found myself focused on a pure drop of vampire poison that fell from a canine as his mouth stretched taut, the skin splitting as the magic permeated every cell of his body, roasting him alive from the inside out and never stopping.

  I sucked down his magic, deep and fast, my body expanding as his wilted.

  It ate him up, obliterated his blood magic, consumed him faster than he could repair his body through the magic he had stolen from the innocent over the centuries.

  With a wet sucking sound, I pulled my arm free and shook off the goop, the limb still horribly swollen. The magic was unstable, unable to keep up with my anger. I was losing the plot and well past caring.

  This was my home! These were the people I loved that were under attack, and nothing, absolutely nothing, would get past me. I'm not normally somebody who kills, though. Yes, I have, but disagreements hardly ever get this out of control in our world.

  We blast magic, we hurt and maim, I take magic from those that need to be punished, keeping order and ensuring they never push the limits again, but it seldom comes to this.

  It was liberating, and scary as hell. I made myself sick because of the wildness I let loose. There is no worse feeling in the world than killing and knowing you feel happy and satisfied with what you have done, no matter that they deserved it.

  This is their ultimate victory. They ruin you, destroy your humanity because you enjoyed taking away the essence of a person. You feel vindicated because they are bad, but the fact you gloat and are glad they are dead, that's the worst thing cruel human beings can do to you when you get your revenge.

  You think they have taken it all away from you, but trust me, it is as nothing compared to the realization you are more like them than you would ever care to admit.

  Not that it stopped me. I shouldered the dead, but still standing vampire, and was running past his body before his partner had the chance to grab me. Vampires are beyond merely strong, they are superhuman, and when their anger is up they can tear you limb from limb like you are an insect. I know, I've seen it done, and it isn't pretty.

  The woman was beside me in a heartbeat. I knew her, or knew of her, same as the dead guy, and they were both bad news. Proper hardcore vamps, totally immersed in the culture, centuries old, unable to come out in daylight. True creatures of the night and utterly vampire. Not like some of the others, where they still play a part in the life that goes on all around them, but entirely removed from the Regular world. This pair dealt only with their own kind, killed often, thought nothing at all of humans. And that meant me.

  Well, one down, one to go. What I couldn't figure out was why there were only two. Surely Taavi knew me well enough to know it would be unlikely that I would be defeated by them? A terrible feeling came over me moments before I heard the screams from the house. The woman smiled at me as I turned at the sound. It was Kate. She needed me.

  As I changed direction to get back inside, the woman did the vampire dance and stuttered to a halt in the doorway. She put her hands on her hips, grinning like it was all over.

  I said, "You're in my house. I didn't say you could come in."

  "Like I care. Your world is broken, Spark." She spoke like I was dirt, an annoyance, not worth the words.

  "Not as broken as yours is about to be. I will obliterate you, all of you." I'd had enough. As the screams from inside grew louder, I walked right up to her. She watched me, amused, as I slowly brought up my hand. Her confidence faltered, but she was ready. Knowing what I could do, having witnessed it, she was poised to move fast if I tried anything with magic.

  She would dodge me, she was confident in that. And I knew she was right. She wouldn't repeat the mistake her buddy just had.

  See, this is the problem with overly confident people, they lose their edge, lose the ability to see what is right in front of them. Or in this case, behind them.

  Kate grunted as the poker hit bone but kept on coming, pushing through the woman's throat at a steep downward angle. Kate's fingers were white where they clutched the brown metal, the tang of blood strong in the air, mixed with the rust of the poker and the almost overpowering smell of the cooked flesh of the dead intruder at our feet.

  In a panic, Kate let go of the poker and ran back into the living room where it was quiet. The vampire grabbed the poker protruding from her throat, eyes locked on mine, as she pulled it slowly out.

  She thought it would be one of those moments where I watched aghast as she did the impossible, then she would turn the tables, kill me, her blood magic saving her from such a terrible injury. But it wasn't one of those moments, and as she pulled on the bar I let the magic well again as the sickness came to claim its dues, my reprieve from the aftereffects seemingly less than a permanent relief but coming and going as it pleased.

  No matter. I took it, and as my body weakened and the pain increased, I felt a particular section of ink on my upper chest wriggle and squirm like a tadpole in your palm when you scoop them out of the water as a child, tickling and knowing you have to be quick as you don't want to be mean. Well, I wanted the meanness, and the tickle at my neck became something else. That power, that feeling, I saw it leap.

  My strength and focus made the magic come real, bending all in its path. It shot at the poker, now halfway through her neck, in a black line of ferocious energy as sparks of fury licked at her hands and the metal. As she fought to remove the poker so she could heal, the metal bent and curled back around her neck, fusing both ends so she had a half necklace of scalding metal.

  Then I kicked her in the belly. As she fell, I grabbed the circle of iron and dragged her out of my goddamn house. Her feet scrabbled on the mossy flagstones as she tried to grip onto the pots of Kate's geraniums. Anything to get purchase and stop me, but I was lost to myself.

  Out of my mind, I yanked her away and dragged her to the wood pile. I let her go with a clang of iron as she collapsed onto the stone. Hands steady, I picked up the ax from its position buried in the chopping block.

  Unthinking, I cleaved in her skull. The steel, still shiny and new, the
label still on the rubberized handle, sank deep into her forehead and split her nose in two.

  Almost doubled up with pain, as magic retreated to the Hidden and the air danced silver, black, and blue with the rush to escape my thievery, I moved as fast as I could back inside.

  I hadn't thought it could get any worse, but I was sorely mistaken. Plum was on the floor, dead. Beside her were the witches that had visited us earlier that day. Kate was drenched in blood, her mouth and chin stained scarlet, the flames from the fire flickering dangerously in eyes wild and buzzing.

  Her teeth were biting into her lower lip, dripping foulness as she bent and ripped out the throat of the final witch. Flesh tore, then Kate sank into the sofa, the surrounding air alive with blood magic as she soaked it up, grew stronger, more powerful. A little less of a human being, if she still was at all.

  It had been a simple ploy. The vamps out the front, waiting until I arrived so they could distract me and get Kate at the same time. Well, they'd underestimated us all. Kate had killed the witches, but seemingly not before they'd got to Plum in her shocked state.

  My legs gave way, and I crashed down next to Kate, unable to talk, unable to think straight. My head was spinning. Everything was leaving me. My loved ones, my humanity, my entire life felt like a dream of hurt and suffering, of nonsense and utter futility. What was the point? Was this what it all came down to? Them killing us, us killing them? I didn't even know who them and us were any longer. The boundaries were blurred, and I wasn't sure I could cope.

  The fire crackled; an owl hooted outside. Kate moaned next to me, body super-charged even as the barbarism took her over and she sank deeper into herself and lower on the sofa.

  I stared at Plum. Beautiful, gorgeous, curvy and tough Plum, dead on my rug in front of the fire like a dog curled up for the night. Except Plum had magic inflicted wounds all across her once flawless skin. Her head was a mess, lumps and bruises disfiguring her so she was ruined. Wisps of green magic still danced around her body as a noose slowly dissipated. She'd been asphyxiated by a magical rope, strung up like a criminal.

  I was glad Kate had killed them, but because of me she lost a little more of her humanity that night—another thing the vampires had to pay for. The sheer madness of the situation wasn't lost on me, but you can never judge an entire people or species by the acts of some.

  I would trust and love Kate until the end of time if she remained human, and as I turned to her and saw the tears flow, I knew she was far from lost.

  Then the pain took her, the price vampires pay for taking blood magic. It makes the hurt I endure feel like a walk in the park.

  We sat. We screamed and we cried.

  So much loss. So much hurt and suffering. So much death.

  No Rest for the Wicked

  "We have to go, Kate. We can't stay here. Kate?" I let my words seep through her fog of magic, blood, and self-recrimination. She slowly gathered her senses, came back to the world I didn't blame her for trying to escape from. Pulling myself together, I somehow got Plum onto the sofa.

  The magic was gone. I was empty. Sickness passed, leaving behind a numbness and a calmness I knew was bad for me. When I get like that I'm dangerous, to myself and definitely to others. I feel nothing, just shut down emotions, become fixated on what needs to be done, and I've seen other Hidden run away when they see the look in my eyes. I knew I was in that zone and I didn't care.

  Not thinking, not allowing myself to, I sat Plum upright and brushed her hair away from her once beautiful face. "I'll make them pay, Plum, and I'm sorry I used to stare at your bum. But it was nice."

  When I close my eyes I can see her, picture her beauty, her strength, her tight outfits and her perfect bottom. Yeah, I know, Plum, I know you are shaking your head at me from your afterlife I bet is nowhere near as beautiful as you, but I can't help myself. It was, is, and shall forever be, like two bowling balls wrapped in silk. Take care, and give 'em hell. I know you are.

  I put the blanket over Plum's head and pulled Kate up off the sofa.

  I guided her upstairs and walked her like one of the undead into the bathroom. She didn't resist, just did as instructed, body on autopilot. I stripped us both down while I turned on the shower so it heated up and then I guided her in. I scrubbed her first, shampooed her hair, then did the same to myself while she stood there, body vibrant and screaming its sexual chemistry at me even in her absent state.

  Blood magic rose through her veins even as she dealt with the horrific pain that comes with feeding, that makes the pain of using magic fade to nothing but a gentle toothache in comparison. But she showed no sign of the inner battle that raged. Kate let me clean her, guide her, and then towel her dry. She said nothing, did nothing.

  In the bedroom, I dressed her and she helped a little, still not with it, not quite there. Now and then she doubled up, coughing as waves of hurt swam through her bloodstream as she assimilated the power of the witches.

  I dressed in one of my best Savile Row suits, put on a red silk shirt, even a tie. I got a pair of new winklepickers from the wardrobe and tied up the tan leather shoes with laces that felt ridiculous to my sore fingers. Somehow, the smell of new leather and the feel of crisp and laundered cotton against my skin brought me back to my senses. My body was real, my own again.

  This was right. This was me. I would kill until the streets were red with blood. I would have revenge for Plum, for my friend. They didn't know what the hell was coming their way.

  I adjusted my tie, grimaced in the mirror at my beard that was a little too long, my hair that was still bleached but subtler than it had been, now preferring the slightly darker look.

  I avoided looking myself in the eye, knowing I wouldn't like what I saw.

  Vampires!

  I called Grandma, told her to be careful, and to keep the doors locked. She laughed, explaining that her and several witches had put some serious spells to work—nothing was getting inside to harm the children. I broke the news about Plum, and about the witches dead on my living room floor.

  She tutted in her usual way, like somebody had spilled tea on her table, and filled me in on some very important information. The witches that had rallied around to safeguard the children told her the vampires had spoken to a number of them, sent out feelers, same as they had to her, although they hadn't blatantly come out and asked if they would join them, but that was the gist of it.

  It seemed a few had. Not many, probably the ones Kate had killed and a handful of others, but with so many missing from witch home ground they all now assumed that the vampires had sought retribution for their lack of acceptance. Or, had done it as an example to Kaisa Hayashi to coerce her and others into making the smart pills for the trolls.

  It made sense, about the only thing that did, but it was mere speculation. I needed answers, real ones. I intended to get them.

  Feeling weirdly whole just by showering and dressing in my usual smart work clothes, I stared at the bodies in the living room, not knowing what to do, just that I had to do something. For Plum's sake, I dragged the dead witches outside and left them with the vampires. I hoped they enjoyed each other's company in a seriously nasty purgatory—they deserved each other.

  Kate was coming back to herself, to me, and as I closed the front door behind us, not bothering to lock it, I felt like the brief chapter of happiness in our lives was over. Another home violated, another sanctuary ruined, more lives obliterated. Shielding our eyes from the glare of the headlights, we made it to the car with no more surprises and buckled up.

  New car smell welcome after the foulness of death stink, I drove back to the city, neither of us in much of a state to say anything, the darkness clawing at our minds as the country lanes huddled close, hiding the creatures of the night that knew nothing of mankind's ability to hurt each other so badly.

  Rikka called and I broke the news. He was silent for a long time and I wondered if we'd lost reception, but he finally spoke again. "Wipe them out, Spark. All of them that
had anything to do with this."

  "Including Taavi?"

  I could see him nodding his head sadly. "Yes, including Taavi."

  "You know what that will mean, don't you?"

  "I know, and I don't care. Some things are worth fighting over, worth dying over. I spoke to Dancer. He's doing what you asked right now. How long do you need?"

  I tried to think through my plan, what I'd asked Dancer to arrange. How long would I need to put the things into action I hoped would work? "An hour, give me an hour. And tell Dancer they are to be there by then and to start whether I arrive or not. How is it going with him? Can they do it?"

  "They can do it. It won't be pretty, and it won't last long, but there haven't been any complaints yet."

  My throat felt funny, but I swallowed the rising tide of regret and soul-sucking sadness, and tried to sound strong. "Be sure to tell them about Plum. That should make them fight for their temporary return to life. For as long as they can manage, Rikka, tell Dancer that. I'm going to search out what else I need."

  "Anything I can do? What are you up to?"

  "Don't worry about it. Just get Dancer there, and, Boss, you too. No sitting this one out."

  I knew he had an affronted look, hand on heart. "As if. I'll be at the front, leading the way, you can count on it."

  "I think we might have to. This is one seriously messed up night."

  "I know. And there will be hell to pay. Bye, Faz."

  "Bye, Rikka."

  It wasn't until we were almost at the city that I realized he'd called me Faz and I'd called him Rikka. It brought the lump in my throat back. Yeah, he gets me every time, daft old wizard that he is.

  "What's happening, Faz? What are you planning?"

  "Kate, this won't be easy for you, and I'm sorry. But by the morning there will be an awful lot of dead vampires."

  "Good, they deserve it." She held my gaze. She meant it.

  "Okay, so here is the plan."