Evil Spark

by Al K. Line

  I looked questioningly at Kate. She just nodded and smiled as if to say, trust me. I trusted her with my life.

  Slow Down

  "This was your idea?"

  "No, we'll get to that in a minute. Just lie back and close your eyes."

  "Um, okay." We were in my old bedroom upstairs at Grandma's, and as Kate led me by the hand up the stairs I fought a battle inside myself. Part of me was dog-tired, mind whirling with thoughts of horrible things happening to Grandma, the other part of my brain, well, I say brain, I mean something else entirely, was thinking, wondering, maybe hoping, that Kate was leading me upstairs to you-know-what. When we went into the bedroom I honestly didn't know what to think. Talk about bad timing, but was she serious?

  "Close them," she said in a husky voice.

  "They are closed." What was I doing? What was she doing? This was wrong, but I couldn't help it. I was being led like an obedient pet, mind lost to everything but worry, yet still desire refused to leave me.

  I felt ashamed for thinking of Kate at a time like this, but she has a hold on me, this effect I can't, don't want to, shake. Is it the vampire charm, her and her alone, or just me being a weak and pathetic man who thinks of sex even when their dearest relative could be dead?

  But closeness is important, holding someone is important when you are sad or scared. That's my excuse anyway, for my base man thoughts that left me ashamed, yet horny.

  "Slow down, Faz. You're acting manic, out of control," Kate said, soft, gentle and caring. She looked at me with concern, with understanding. This beautiful woman knows the depth of my feelings for Grandma, that she's all I have, apart from her. She's my family. I love her.

  "Okay, sorry. I know I'm getting crazed but I can't help it. It's Grandma. I'll tear the world to pieces. I'll beat every last—"

  "Hush, hush, it's okay." Kate put a cool hand to my fevered head and stroked my stupid, hacked blond hair like I was a child again.

  I remember when my mother used to soothe me in this way after I woke from bad dreams or was ill and bed-ridden. A hand full of love, an act of giving more powerful than any magic, and I let the hate go, just a little. Shoulders knotted with pain, fury, and despair relaxed a little. Kate brought me back to myself, and I knew I had to act rationally or I'd never find Grandma.

  This was better than sex—okay, it was nice—and what I needed. It also made more sense than us getting naked at that moment. I should have known as much. Kate's the better person. I'm just weak. She can lead me to the pits of hell and I'll look into her eyes and ask if I should jump first.

  "We have to go see Stanley. He'll know what's happened to Grandma. Have they been on their date yet?"

  "What? Oh, yes, they had a great time." Kate stroked my head while she talked and I wanted it to last forever. I wanted to be with her, let her wrap me in her arms and promise everything would be okay. But I couldn't lose Grandma, I just couldn't. She's all that remains of my family and I love her too much.

  "What happened, on the date?"

  "Not now. Think of the good times. Think of Grandma and that we will get her back again."

  "Okay." I close my eyes, I think of my life, of what I am, and what I could have been without the only woman in my life that meant anything to me since a teenager, apart from Kate.

  After my parents were killed when I was fourteen, I moved in with Grandma. She loved me, cared for me, and helped me heal in her own unique way. I was not a fun adolescent for many months, but she showed amazing patience and understanding even though she was grieving terribly, probably more than me—parents aren't meant to live to see their children pass.

  Stoic as only Grandma can be, she soldiered on, and tried to uphold my parents' wishes even though I knew at that young age she had never agreed with their decision—as far as Grandma was concerned we were a family destined for magic.

  My mother and father were both a part of this Hidden world, the same as Grandma, and had been together for longer than Regular human lifespans.

  They weren't like Grandma though, not totally immersed in the world the same as her. Grandma is a full-on witch, well respected and as sweet a lady as you could hope to ever meet.

  My parents were what I guess some would call dabblers. Neither one of them went as deep as Grandma or me. They were on the fringes, made their living through their dark magic, because that's the only magic there is—magic was never meant for humans, so use it and you pay the price with pain and sickness like you wouldn't believe—but they never immersed themselves in it. Magic was never what defined them as people.

  Being parents was what defined them, and we did normal things like other families. We went to the zoo, the circus, they took me to the park, and we did everything else that families did in turn of the century Britain.

  I remember we even went to church once. That did not end well and still makes me laugh to this day. You should have seen the vicar when... Anyway, they tried to be Regular as often as they could, but it never quite worked out the way they intended.

  Times were very different to how they are now. We were on the cusp of a radical shift in how people and societies functioned and interacted. The First World War changed so much, opening people's eyes to the true horror of human beings, and I think if they had been alive at the end of it they would have gladly allowed me to learn of the Empty and become a true Hidden—magic was certainly no worse than what people had shown themselves capable of.

  Technology slowly crept in, although they were much simpler times, there's no denying that. They took on jobs when needed, had what I guess you would call an early form of detective agency.

  They found things for people. Be it a trinket or a person. They used the Empty and they solved mysteries, uncovering clues and hints of things through their connection to the Hidden world.

  It paid well enough, and we led a relatively quiet life.

  There were friends, although as hard as they tried to mix with Regulars it never worked out, and people came and went. The few constants in my life growing up were them, Grandma, and Rikka.

  Rikka is a hardcore mage, powerful beyond compare and as fat as he is magically adept. He knew Grandma from way back and was a family friend, and as much as I cajoled him and Grandma into teaching me what they knew, both refused as my parents wanted me to live a normal life, away from the hurt and the endless hassle and trouble that comes with being a part of this Hidden community. I even went to school for a while, but that didn't work out either.

  When they died, killed by vampires, life spiraled out of control fast.

  I moved in with Grandma and chaos ruled for a while as she and Rikka and every other human involved in magic turned their attention to finding out what happened. Nobody ever did.

  It must have been six months or so after they were found dead that I left and went to see Rikka. I was a skinny, unkempt, angry kid, but he accepted me, and taught me how to be a wizard. When I look back on it now I'm amazed he took me on. Boy, was I a handful.

  Eventually, I returned to Grandma's—it was one of his conditions—and she welcomed me back without a word of admonishment. I lived there for a good few years while I slowly learned about magic and how to be a grown-up. Little by little, due to her own unique brand of love, I accepted that my life would never be the same again.

  She taught me patience, while Rikka taught me the dark arts, and she schooled me in the delicate ways of herbs, potions, and the minds of people. Grandma helped me understand that the mind is at the root of all magic, and showed me how to master it.

  Rikka, when not shouting, ignoring, or eating—actually, sometimes when he was doing all those things—taught me how to harness the Empty, direct it under my control, and my gift was uncovered. As I grew, and it became clear I had a very specific set of skills—taking magic from others—I felt loved and cherished and I can never repay that as long as I live, although I have always tried.

  It was clear I was born to be an enforcer. My gifts made it obvious. I can suck magic o
ut of miscreants like draining a glass through a straw, not even leaving the dregs behind. My true strength lies in taking Hidden from magic-infused troublemaker to Regular, with no chance of ever returning to our world. I can also do this to true Hidden, well, some anyway. Plus I'm good at talking, which often comes in more handy than the old dark arts.

  I became Rikka's only student, as he wasn't keen on teaching. He preferred to focus on his business, and his rising position in the weird, convoluted, and still seemingly contradictory nature of the Councils.

  When I was in my twenties, he became Head of the Dark and Hidden Councils. Hidden encompassing all magical creatures, the Dark Council focusing only on human affairs that involve magic, although there is a lot of overlap and it seems crazy to have two. What can I tell you? Humans like to have their own thing, it's who we are.

  Now Grandma was gone. And Rikka, according to Kate, blamed the vampires. This put her in an awkward position to say the least, but she loved Grandma like a... well, like a grandma, and she is my friend. She came to warn me.

  "Better?" asked Kate, as if she'd been following every thought.

  "Better," I agreed.

  Kate shifted closer on the bed, making herself comfortable next to me. I wanted to stay there forever, just us, but it wasn't possible.

  "You want a cuddle?"

  "I want a cuddle." For a moment everything vanished, but it didn't last, couldn't.

  "Right," said Kate, lifting her head a little, looking down on me with the most beautiful eyes in the world, "now it's time for my plan."

  "Ah, okay. If you're sure?"

  "I am," she said, her sweet smelling hair tickling my face like an angel's breath. "Come on, get up, time to go."

  "Oh, right. Okay." I got up. We left Grandma's.

  I felt better, honest.

  Yeah, it was great. Just what I wanted, actually.

  Trip to the Cafe

  "This is your idea?"

  Kate smiled. "Yup. You need to eat, so I thought what better place than here."

  "Kate, we haven't got time to sit around eating. We've got to—"

  "I know, we have to find Grandma. But you're a mess. Why do you think I didn't come and tell you what I thought had happened? You're still not recovered now. And that little outburst earlier has not done you any favors. You're shrinking before my eyes."

  Kate had a point. I should not have lost it with the twins. I still felt sick and drained like I was right back where I had been a week ago. Maybe she was right not to come get me the moment she found the body at Grandma's. She knew I was usually up and at 'em, so the fact I'd said to leave me alone meant I was seriously done for. But still, this was Grandma. Kate knew I would move heaven and earth for her.

  I was dead on my feet already though, and the thought of food made me salivate like a dog locked inside a butcher's overnight. What would I have been like two days ago? Fit for nothing, unable to walk properly, no energy and what little I'd had would have been sapped in a moment. But, you know, it's Grandma.

  Kate pushed open the door and we went from one kind of blistering heat to another. As we stepped inside Madge's Cafe, once again I felt like I'd come home. Madge was shouting at her kids, the linoleum was sticky, the flock wallpaper was seeping grease like the tears of a cardiologist, and the windows were so steamed you couldn't see inside, or out. Madge had a teapot in hand, splashing the thick, strong goodness into chipped mugs, spilling it over the counter then wiping up the mess with a cloth as old as Satan's loincloth and just as hygienic.

  But it's the smell that does for you. Ah, the glorious aroma of a million fried breakfasts. People come from far and wide to eat at Madge's. The food is cheap, plentiful, and it will clog your arteries like nothing else.

  As I closed the door behind us, the full impact of the fried goodness hit me just like it always does—like a slap in the mouth with a pack of butter. Smells of fried toast, sausages, bacon and runny eggs made my mouth water and I was amazed that my stomach took over. For a moment, just a moment, thoughts of Grandma vanished beneath the onslaught of hunger pangs that clawed at my belly worse than a magic hangover.

  It was late morning now, so the place was only half full. It would pick up again at lunch time, when the factory workers, the truckers, and the students that lived close by, all piled in to get a fry-up infamous all over Cardiff and beyond. The Welsh do love a fried breakfast, which is just as well, as from early morning until two in the afternoon it is all that Madge serves.

  I staggered to the counter with Kate ahead and already talking to Madge.

  "Faz needs the works, Madge. He's a walking disaster and will be good for nothing in his current state," said Kate.

  "I heard what happened," said Madge, shaking her head and tutting, frizzy gray hair bobbing about like an abandoned bird's nest ready to topple. "Terrible business. Any news yet?"

  "No, none," said Kate.

  "Terrible business," Madge repeated.

  "Hey, Madge, you look divine as always."

  Madge gave me her usual scowl, then softened her features a little. "You poor boy. Don't worry, Spark, you'll find Grandma."

  "I hope so. Give me everything you got, Madge. I've hardly eaten for a week and I need all the energy I can get."

  "Coming right up. Kate, what do you want?"

  "Oh, just a cup of tea and maybe a poached egg on toast," she said brightly, tucking a strand of hair behind an ear, probably in an attempt to stop it sucking up grease like a sponge—a losing battle if ever there was one.

  Madge leaned forward on the counter, adjusted her thick spectacles, brushed her hair back from a face that had looked sixty since I was a boy—but is four hundred years old and like a lunar landscape of frown lines—and she actually, for the first time I've ever witnessed, looked surprised. It quickly turned to disgust.

  The room went silent. Regulars and human Hidden, plus a few trolls and three dwarves devouring massive plates of fried goodness, stopped their chatter. Some even dropped their cutlery on the floor, although that probably just made it a little cleaner.

  "What did you say?" Madge leaned closer to Kate, so far over the counter her feet were off the floor. "Look, love, I know you are upset, but that's no reason to take it out on poor Madge. I work hard you know, I can't be having people coming in here asking for all this fancy stuff and—"

  "It's just an egg dropped into hot water," interrupted Kate. She really had a lot to learn. "You swish it around for a few minutes and then it's done. Yum." She was officially nuts.

  There was a collective gasp, even from me. What was wrong with her? This was Madge, and if you wanted an egg you would have it fried. In butter. Lots of butter. I pulled on Kate's arm to get her attention. She turned and said, "What?"

  "Have a fry-up. I'll eat what you leave." That's another thing. You never leave food. Madge takes it as a personal insult if you do.

  "But I don't..."

  I shook my head as Kate began to speak. She had the sense to turn and see Madge leering at her, anger bubbling. "Um, Madge, may I have a nice, lovely, large fry-up, please?"

  Madge straightened her greasy apron, stood upright and scowled in her familiar way. I think maybe it was meant to be a smile, but it never seems to work on her. "Of course, dear, my pleasure. I'll bring it over."

  Crisis averted, everyone got back to their meals. There were nods from the dwarves, grunts from the trolls, the others I didn't know. They would have heard about the trouble, and were showing their sympathy in their own way. When species or factions disagree in our Hidden world news spreads fast. It affects us all, so it's always a good idea to stay well informed at all times. This went beyond that. It was Grandma. Everyone loves Grandma.

  The sympathy brought me back down to earth with a bump and I slumped into the chair, ignoring the smear of tomato sauce on the table.

  "Are you nuts?" I whispered to Kate.

  "What, asking for a poached egg?" She smiled. A sneaky smile. What was she up to?

  The pe
nny dropped. I couldn't help it, I laughed. Well, I smiled at any rate. "You did it on purpose!" I accused.

  "Who, me?" Again, the smile.

  "You did it to take my mind of things, didn't you? Well, thank you, it worked."

  "Good. I'm starving, I could eat two fry-ups."

  "Now that I would like to see. Sorry about losing it, I don't think I would have stopped with the twins if you hadn't been there."

  "That's why nobody came and got you, Faz. Look, I've known you for three years and I know that after you've had a job, and the last one was a major one, then you are moody, sullen, don't eat, take to your bed and are basically a nightmare to be around. But I was going to come get you straight away anyway."

  I understood. I knew what had stopped her. "Rikka, right? He told you to leave me be?"

  Kate nodded. "He's known you a long time, Faz, over a hundred years, and he said that you would be a hindrance rather than a help until you snapped out of it and got back to work, as he put it. And he was right, wasn't he? Look how you've acted, almost causing more trouble than there is already. You need to calm down and you need to get a grip."

  "Blimey, say it like you mean it." She was right. Isn't it amazing how little we accept of ourselves and our true nature. I've known me for a long time but I'd never really thought about the way I am after I've been on a dangerous or energy-sapping enforcer job, or anything else involving magic and getting scared mindless.

  But I am a nightmare to be around for a good few days at least. It's probably why I take the time to write up these reports. It keeps me locked away and out of trouble. I do sulk and not eat and get grumpy and fly off the handle at almost anything. I would have made things worse, nearly had already, so yes, they were right to try to find Grandma for a while without me. But still, you know, it's Grandma.

  "Here we go. And, Kate?" said Madge, slinging steaming plates of food down in front of us, then doing the usual spear throwing act with the cutlery.

  "Hmm?"

  "Don't try to be funny with me again, young missy, you'll give the place a bad name."