by Antara Mann
Ryan left the safety of his shadowy corner and walked toward the massacre. His stare was intense, scrutinizing, yet his eyes had stopped gleaming fiercely in their peculiar yellowish color. And just then, magic sizzled in the air and the hellhound vanished.
“It’s done — the warlocks are all dead now,” Ryan said, a cold smile on his lips. He looked at the fae, then at me. I held my breath, waiting to see if any emotion would flicker in his dark, secretive eyes, but I got nothing. He merely acknowledged that I was there. The two witches joined us and thanked us all.
“We owe you so much,” the one with the cylinder hat said. “Without your help they would have killed us.”
“You’re welcome.” I beamed. “All you have to do is thank the Magic Council for their intervention.” Ugh, I hadn’t meant this to sound like an ad for the Council, but I guess it did. Whatever.
“And Chaos Corporation, too. You are so eager to forget it,” Ryan added, glancing at me. Small angry flames flashed in his eyes for a second then disappeared.
“Sure. Thanks, everybody,” the witch said.
I turned to the witches. “We would like to ask you a few questions. May we?”
They nodded, and the one with the violet strands said, “Sure. I will answer your questions, and in the meantime Jess will clean this mess. Holy magic, it looks like the set of a horror movie.” She nodded at her coven sister, and the latter closed her eyes and concentrated hard. She pronounced a spell in Latin clearly. A gust of wind swirled around, caressing the hair at the back of my neck, and swept over the room, sucking within it the debris, dead bodies, flesh, blood and gore. It drew them in as feverishly and effectively as only a magically conjured mini-tornado could.
I cleared my throat and turned to the first witch. “So, what exactly happened this morning?”
“It was around 4 o’clock, and naturally, everyone in our small coven was fast asleep. Then this loud crack woke up most of us. Suddenly, as if outta hell, a bunch of warlocks appeared. They charged at us and started firing magical blasts. A few of our sisters fell down dead on the spot. As a Council investigator, you are aware of warlocks’ nature — they kill other supernaturals and steal their powers. This is what happened here, as well. Our coven mistress — the poor thing, she died, too — managed to inform the Council before the warlocks killed her. And then, when we already had lost hope and so many of our witch sisters had died, you appeared. First, the mage who summoned the hellhound, and then you two.” She glanced at Ryan and smiled at him warmly. “Once again, thank you with all my heart. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have survived.” She beamed at me, revealing white, sparkling teeth.
My magical sense and lie detector told me her gratitude was sincere and her account correct to the last detail. I didn’t detect any dishonesty on her part. I glanced at Kagan, who’d also listened intently to her story.
“So, you don’t know who these warlocks were, where they came from or who might be behind the assault?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “It’s such a tragedy. Our coven is destroyed.” For a moment, she let her eyes drift around the room, her eyes lingering on the deep cracks in the walls and the scorched and stained floor. The devastation was now so much more obvious, with the debris gone. “Jess and I will have to start from scratch. What a misfortune. Please, Alex — right?” I nodded. “Please, find and kill the bastard who unleashed these warlocks and has been behind the assaults on all supernaturals lately.”
I promised I’d do whatever I could. Lastly, I asked for their names, and she told them to me.
“If there’s anything else I could be of help with, please let me know,” Adele, as I’d learned was her name, said, and then went to her sister’s side and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. They turned on the spot slowly, probably trying to work out where to start the renovations.
I turned to the fae. "What do you think?"
He shrugged. "Not much to go on; yet another monster attack out of the blue."
I silently agreed with his statement and frowned, thinking hard. There was no apparent connection between the attacks, nothing in common except that all the assailants were dark supernaturals. There was no pattern in the choice of victims, either.
I sighed deeply and we retreated to the far end of the hall, close to the entrance door. I caught sight of Ryan behind me and turned to thank him for his help but he beat me to it.
“Uhh, in the spirit of gratitude, I’d like to thank you for your help, Alex,” he said, his words unusually clipped. Then he turned to Kagan. “Though, I suppose, I owe you more than I do her, sir. I take it you’re Kagan Griffith?”
I thought I’d sensed sarcasm in his tone, especially in the way he pronounced “sir”, but decided to ignore it.
“It’s nice to see you in action, Ryan,” I intervened before my boyfriend could reply to the mage, or even worse — react to his arrogant behavior. I wanted to knock that arrogant smirk off his face so badly my hands were twitching, but I kept my cool.
“Ryan,” Kagan said quietly. “So you are the mage who told my girlfriend about the strained relations between the two courts.”
“Yes, that’s me."
Kagan drew nearer to him. "I'll kindly ask you to mind your own business."
"Well, since you won’t fill her in, someone had to enlighten the poor thing. Or do you like keeping your women in the dark?”
Kagan’s face turned a shade darker, his brows furrowed threateningly. His magic crashed over me like wild ocean waves into the coastline. Heat rushed to my cheeks and warmed my insides; I felt this way whenever he referred to me as his “girlfriend”, and even now, in the presence of this untrustworthy mercenary, I felt the same.
To his credit, Ryan didn’t even cringe at the fae’s thunderous magical feel.
Kagan stepped even closer to the mage, only inches from Ryan now, his nostrils flaring. I stepped between them quickly and put my hand on the fae’s chest. He wasn’t the only one who could use his magic to manipulate people’s emotions and feelings; when I really wanted to, I could use my powers of suggestion, healing and tranquility, too. I prayed to Brighid that, despite the waning moon, my magic would be strong enough to pacify the fae’s rage.
“You shouldn’t get involved in things that are none of your business, pal.” Kagan glared at him, his eyes two small, greenish dots gleaming menacingly.
“These things become my business when the community is involved. Everyone knows about the many attacks on supernaturals except her, strangely enough. Since she is your little jewel and you’re the overprotective kind, I figured you didn’t want to upset her. So I took it upon myself to do your dirty work. I expected thanks.”
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t do such things in the future.” Kagan bared his teeth. His magic came to me even more intense than a moment ago; it pulsated like molten lava ready to erupt at any moment.
“I am sorry, chief. Have I stepped on your toes? ‘S okay. You can always outsource me to an even lower-paid organization. Wouldn’t be the first time. Go on. Do your worst,” Ryan sneered.
Confusion appeared on my boyfriend’s face. I was about to pull him aside and tell him to stop arguing with Ryan when the owl shifter’s voice chimed in my head out of the blue.
“Another mage has gone missing, Alex. A healing mage this time, one named Kevin Rydell. She gave me the address, paused, and I sensed she was contemplating what to say next. “There is a pattern in these disappearances. Find the culprit and prevent any further kidnappings.”
Chapter 7
Stunned by the new information, I staggered.
“Alex, are you okay?” Kagan asked me.
Strange. He was next to me, yet his voice sounded far away. My vision blurred, and I clutched Anumati’s necklace, desperate for strength. As I’d hoped, I felt instantly better. My vertigo went away, my balance and other senses returned to normal, the dizziness was gone.
“What happened?” He took my hand in his and lifted my c
hin with the other hand.
“I love it when you do that,” I said tenderly to him, “but I gotta go. There’s another mage missing, a healing mage. Kevin Rydell from Princeton.”
“Another one? That’s not good, not at all,” Kagan muttered. I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t like this either. He glanced over his shoulder back at Ryan, and I sensed he had unfinished business with the mercenary. “Go. We’ll catch up later,” he said and pecked me on the cheek.
I cast a glance at the mage, then at Ryan. Fates knew I wanted to set the mage’s sorry ass on fire, but I decided to take the higher ground. It didn’t bother me that Kagan wanted to stay behind. This would be a pissing contest between two hot-headed males, and I had no need to witness it.
I took out Naomi’s fairy dust charm and sprinkled it round me then mentally repeated the address the Council gave me until a magical swirl rose up. I stepped inside it, and it took me through the void.
I found myself before an impressive white three-story house in a neat neighborhood of Princeton. There were rows of smaller houses next to it, all with well-kept front yards. Whoever this Kevin mage might be, he was certainly a wealthy man.
I walked up the three steps and rang the doorbell. As I waited, I took in the mahogany front door with a large, rectangular matte window with a circle and pentagram inlay; now, this was art! While I admired the piece of work, I heard distant steps approaching, and soon enough a young woman opened the door. She was in her early twenties. My magical sense told me she was also a mage, probably a healing one.
“Yes? What can I help you with?” Her voice was as soft and feminine as her facial features, her hair auburn, and her eyes light blue. She was incredibly beautiful.
“Hi, I am Alexandra Shaw, an investigator from the Magic Council. I am here to look into Kevin Rydell’s disappearance.”
“Oh, thank magic! Come in.” She rushed me inside eagerly. “My brother has been missing for the last few days and I’ve been worried sick about him. He is a true genius — so intelligent — but quite often unable to concentrate, always so absent-minded, you know?” She was talking frantically, as if trying to win a speed-talking contest, while we went to a large living room. It was simply decorated, with only a large sofa, a few chairs, and a large wooden desk at the other end of the room.
“So, umm, what is your name?” I asked her, taking out my notebook and a pen.
“Freya Rydell.”
“And you are also a healing mage, right?”
“Yes, I am, indeed, though not as accomplished as my older brother.” She looked to the nearest wall, and I followed her gaze to see a lot of diplomas in golden frames hanging there.
“Yes, Kevin is indeed a genius, as these accomplishments attest,” she said, pride evident in her voice.
“What does he do for a living?”
She smiled at me as if I asked her to cite her favorite poem and said, “He is a professor of healing sciences at Sekhmet University of Higher Learning.”
I nodded, impressed. Sekhmet University of Higher Learning was a very well-respected magical institution that employed only the most gifted and accomplished supernatural scholars. So Kevin Rydell was well-off and highly intelligent. An interesting combination.
“I see,” I said to Freya. “Did anything unusual happen recently? Anything out of the ordinary he may have shared with you?”
Freya laughed derisively and shook her head. “I can’t recall. You see, Miss Shaw, my brother is rather a solitary man. Except for me, his students and colleagues, he doesn’t meet other people. He is withdrawn.”
I jotted down the information and said, “I can see that he is appreciated.” I pointed at the many prizes and recognitions adorning the walls. “Did he mention anything about a colleague of his who might be jealous of his achievements?”
“No, he hasn’t uttered a word about problems at work. My brother is a very discreet and shy person.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Three days ago. He went to work as usual and never came back. I got worried, but thought he might have gone to his office and lost track of time. Often he closes himself in his specially made laboratory at the university and spends hours there, sometimes days, trying to distill his healing powers into a product that could help not only other supernaturals, but humans as well.” She hastily wiped her eyes. “He has such a big heart,” she added, her voice wavering. Her eyes pinned me with an intensity I hadn’t expected, and she whispered, “You can keep secrets, can’t you?”
I nodded, mentally apologizing for the half-truth. If my investigation required it, I would have to disclose her secrets; I’d have no choice. She continued, “Well, my brother works with the American government.”
I made a note of this as well. “Do you know any of his government contacts?”
“I’m afraid not; he keeps them secret.” Her smile was apologetic.
“And did he manage to progress in his attempts to create a healing product for the government or for the supernatural community?”
Her smile was half-knowing, half-teasing now. “No, not yet. He was trying very hard, but he hasn’t created a product… for humans, at least. He discovered that his healing powers worked best and fastest on mages and shifters.”
I underlined this in my notes and asked, “How fast did his healing power actually work, and to what extent? I mean, to what extent could he heal supernaturals and humans?”
“Oh, he has brought a person back from the dead. For a couple of minutes,” she added.
I raised my eyebrows — now that was impressive. Seeing my astonishment, she hurried to add, “It was when he was still a student at the Magica Academy, and there was this big accident. I don’t remember the details anymore, but two students had fought to the death, and one killed the other. I think they were werewolves, though I am not certain about that. Anyway, my brother was called to heal them. His abilities were well-known. So he resurrected the dead shifter. Because of his extraordinary magic, they invited Kevin to enroll in the Sekhmet University of Higher Learning, and he, of course, accepted and graduated from it. Later on, he took a teaching job there.”
Supernaturals, unlike humans, didn’t usually bother with higher learning. And they had to show remarkable qualities and achievements in order that the supernatural academia invited them to teach, as in Kevin Rydell’s case.
I cleared my throat and asked, “So, you said you thought he’d locked himself in his laboratory, working on the project. When did you get worried about your brother’s absence?”
“Yesterday at around 6 p.m. I came home from work and he still hadn’t come back, so I decided something bad had to have happened to him. Call it female intuition, but I know my brother — he would have at least called me so that I wouldn’t worry.”
“You are sure there was no one in his life, umm, special? Like a girlfriend?”
Her smile dropped. “I am absolutely sure there was no one. He’s always been single.”
Sounds so much like me before Kagan, I thought. My romance with Brendan didn’t count — it’d been no more than a fling.
“And what about any friends? Or hobbies?”
“His work is his whole life; the only hobby I can think of is the annual magical contest he has participated in each year. It starts in a few days.” Her face darkened. “I’m afraid he’ll miss it,” she whispered.
I jotted this information in my notebook, too.
“Have you two lived alone?”
“We have, ever since our poor mother died. My brother is a very solitary person, as I already told you. I have a boyfriend, but prefer to live with my sibling since he’s been so kind to me. Kevin has been taking care of me my entire life.” Her eyes became moist with tears, and I gave her some time. After a while, she said, “I don’t want him to live on his own. I think that would make for a miserable life.”
I nodded and thought about the description of her brother. Kevin Rydell's disappearance reminded me of the other missing m
age: They both left for work and never returned, both highly intelligent with loving families and extraordinary abilities. There was indeed a pattern to this.
“I completely understand where you’re coming from,” I said. “Can you show me his room? I’d like to take a look at it.”
“Sure, please follow me.” Freya stood up and led me through the corridor into a smaller room. I held my breath. Everything in here was obsessively organized. The shelves with different potions, magical herbs and runic symbols were carefully labeled. Even the few statuettes had their own labels. It kinda reminded me a bit of our occult bookshop, the Steaming Cauldron, but Kevin Rydell’s possessions were incredibly well-organized, and not on sale.
“Take your time. If you have any questions, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Freya said and left the room, closing the door behind her.
I took a look around and inhaled deeply, closing my eyes. I wanted to feel the energy and atmosphere here before busying myself with fingerprints and other evidence. A person’s true nature can be best experienced in the place they most frequently inhabit.
Rings of small stars shining in yellow, red and orange appeared before my closed eyes, dancing around. I smiled. The warmth of summer days washed over my body, combined with the scent of fresh sandalwood and the intoxicating song of twittering birds — all this fired up my senses. This mage, Kevin Rydell, was truly an exceptional guy. The feel and touch of his lingering magic tasted divine, as I’d always imagined angels’ would.
The stars grew bigger — as if I was feeling his gentle caress. My smile deepened. Then, the inexplicable desire to touch an item in his room overwhelmed me. With my eyes still closed, I reached my hand out and groped for this thing. My curiosity grew, and I opened my eyes. I was holding a book with magical incantations, probably a school book from the university he was lecturing at.
