by Janelle Peel
I seriously needed to add more idiots to my growing list.
The smooth concrete floors were painted and polished to a glossy black. In fact, everything was black. Bar stools, the bar itself, tables, chairs… The only things that weren’t were the walls and the stage for the band, both were a painted hideous shade of red.
Nauseated, I made my way to the bar. Once I’d perched on a filthy stool, I signaled the bartender and ordered a Sprite to calm my nerves.
Sipping my drink from a dirty glass, I didn’t have to wait long before a robed figure entered with a college goth wannabe draped over each arm.
Goddess, what a loser I thought, and threw a few bills down for my drink.
They settled into secluded booth away from prying eyes. A waitress stopped by and took their orders before heading back to the bar.
Making sure my hips swung seductively, I called a bit of red flame to my auburn hair and made my approach.
One of the girls had removed his black hood; revealing a shark like smile and overly gelled, thinning grey hair. His cheeks were sunken in and his hooked nose stuck out like a beak from his emaciated face.
My stomach rolled as I gathered my resolve and continued on my way.
My flames caught his eye and his jaw dropped. Slowly, he undressed me with his beady black eyes.
“Hey,” I whispered seductively, leaning over the table and showcasing my cleavage. “I haven’t see you around here before.”
Using his sleeve, he wiped the drool gathering at the corner of his mouth and barked, “Leave us.”
The young girls whimpered in protest before tossing me a dirty look and sliding out of the booth.
Moris nodded to their vacated seats. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” he raised a sickly hand with yellowed fingernails, “you are?”
I swallowed hard again and mustered a smile while lifting my hand, “Lacey.” The best lies were seeded with bits of truth. Lacey sounded similar enough to Daisy that I would be able to pay attention when called upon.
His cold hand met mine over the table as I seated myself. His lips left a wet fishlike kiss over my knuckles before he released me and sat back with a satisfied look.
I grinned in response and extinguished my flames.
He lowered his voice and nodded, “Nice trick to get my attention.”
I smirked, “If it works.”
Biting his lip, he raised a hand and signaled the waitress over and tipped his head to me.
“Cosmopolitan, please.” I answered her inquiring eyes.
She nodded and took off back to the bar.
I cocked my head to the side, “And where have you been hiding?”
“Around,” he rolled his thin shoulders in dismissal. “What I want to know, is why I’ve never seen you here before?”
Play it cool Daisy, play it cool. “I’m usually on nights at the Library. The higherups changed my shift.” I shrugged nonchalantly.
“Hmm. I do a great deal of work in the Archives,” his disgusting hand slid over the table and gripped my fingers. “Perhaps we can work out an arrangement.”
My stomach cramped as I squeezed his fingers, “That sounds amazing. Tell me,” My brows rose in wonderment, “what’s it like? I only ever shelve books and old scrolls. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have all of that history at your beck and call.”
He smirked, “Yes, it is a lot to take in. So much power.”
I made sure to widen my eyes even further. “Could you?” I questioned, playing the damsel while stroking his ego, “Could you maybe, teach me?”
His pointed teeth peeked from beneath his curved upper lip, “Certainly.”
It took another hour of acting before he excused himself to the restroom. The fool had told me exactly where he slept so I bypassed the potion to loosen him up and went straight for the one that would make him sleep.
Skeevy perv, he deserved so much more than a random hangover.
I upended the entire thing into his whiskey.
His ridiculous black robe swished with every step, announcing his return. It had to have been enhanced by magic somehow to be heard over the thumping music. What a showoff.
He slid into the booth, lifted his drink to his lips and swallowed the entire thing. His brows furrowed while he peered into his glass.
Dammit, I’d hoped the whiskey would mask the flavor. My brain frantically scrambled to make up an excuse to distract him from the taste.
I cupped my breasts on top of my crossed arms on the table, “Hey, you want of get out of here?”
His eyes were drawn like magnets and his glass dropped to the table with a clink. “Of course.” He blindly reached into his robe for his wallet and tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table without taking his eyes from my chest.
I shifted to the side, making sure to showcase my long legs as I stood and held out my hand.
With a goofy smile, he clasped my arm and followed my lead out of the pub.
Idiot.
Fuck, this prick was heavy, I thought, kicking off my heels and hefting his unconscious weight onto the bed.
I ripped open his robe and bared his tiny prick.
Good God. Not only did he not wear boxers, but how did he expect to satisfy anything with that miniscule bit? I spit on the offending appendage to make things seem more believable and began searching for the key.
Finding it in an inner pocket, I locked the door from the inside and let myself out.
Now, I needed to change before I could find out what the Council coveted so closely.
After I’d changed into a black cotton tunic with matching leggings, I pulled my hair into a lose ponytail and washed off my makeup.
Now or never.
I grabbed my bag and made my way to the catacombs.
My meticulous research showed that the Archives were at least 3 floors below the common rooms.
The halls this deep below sea-level were slightly damp and smelled heavily of mildew. I shuddered as my low-heeled boot hit a puddle and splashed water up to my knee. Who knew what the hell was in that. Ick.
The torches were placed so far apart that it was difficult to see for twenty-yard stretches. I didn’t dare throw a light sphere, though. The whole point of this mission was stealth.
The slapping of feet drew me from my thoughts.
Someone was coming! Dammit! Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I picked up my pace. Running my palm against the rough stone wall, frantically I searched for an alcove or anywhere to hide. If I was caught down here, I was royally fucked.
Finally, my hand hit an open space and I ducked inside. Crouching low to the floor, I huddled into a ball and made myself as small as possible.
“Did you hear something?” a male voice asked.
“Darius, quit being a pussy. If this place freaks you out so badly, you shouldn’t have volunteered for the job.”
“Screw you Mark, and I am not a pussy. I just don’t understand why we store crap in the Godforsaken place. It’s disgusting.” Darius responded.
Mark answered, “You know why. The Council isn’t as strong as they used to be. Without the wards that were laid here centuries ago, we wouldn’t be able to protect anything.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“I’m serious,” Mark continued. “Something is going on, and I can’t figure out what. Has your magic changed?”
Their steps stopped just paces away from my hiding spot and I held my breath.
“What do you mean?” Darius queried.
“I don’t know, man. My magic just feels different today, off somehow.”
“It was probably that skank you nailed earlier. She was pretty nasty.” Darius quipped.
The sound of a slap met my ears. “Shut up. You’re just jealous you didn’t get any.”
“Ouch! Asshole. No, I haven’t felt anything different, but I haven’t used any magic for a few hours.”
Their steps continued past and I silently let out the breath I was holding.
Mark persisted, “Well, try a sphere or something.”
“Fine, if it’ll make you feel better. Big baby,” Darius replied teasingly.
Weak light lit further down the passageway. Thankfully, it was far enough away that it didn’t reach my hiding spot.
They stopped again. “See what I mean? It’s not normal. The red is off, like it’s faded.”
Darius sucked in a sharp breath, “You’re right. Should we say something?”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Mark said, flabbergasted. “Do you seriously not know what they do?”
“What are you talking about?”
Mark took a few steps down the hall, painting his profile pink in the flickering light. “You idiot. They drain Mages, man. And Shifters. Even Vampires if they can get a hold of a Clutch big enough. Why do you think our Hunter ranks are so big?”
What? That’s what was going on?
They picked up the pace for a bit before Darius replied quietly, “I didn’t know. That’s some scary shit.”
“Yeah, so keep your fucking mouth shut.”
I sat there for a few minutes after they’d left, going over all the information I’d gathered. It didn’t matter, not really. I had to see this through. I could review everything later.
Standing, I lengthened my stride to the staircase and descended another floor. With a bit of luck, I wouldn’t see those douches again.
Success! I did a mini dance and unlocked the heavy rusted door with the spelled key. Torches lit automatically at my entry. Heaving a sigh of relief, I shut the door and wondered where to begin.
The room was massive. The ceiling was at least 30 feet high, probably higher, but that’s as far as the light reached. Scrolls lined the walls, tucked inside shelves carved directly into the rough, gray stone. Wooden bookcases stretched as far as I could see down the center of the room, packed to the brim with heavy tomes.
Not knowing where to start, I skimmed the selections. At least someone had taken the time to attempt to organize everything. Most of the cases had a handwritten note tacked into the wood at eye level.
Blood Magic
Elements
Dire-fire
Warding
Potions
I kept moving deeper into the chamber until I found something of note.
Prophecies
Well, if I was going to find anything useful, that seemed the best place to start. I plucked a few books at random and settled below a torch to read.
1600s Prophecies by Seer Alana
After flipping through a few hundred pages of decaying vellum, I closed the tome and grabbed another.
Magic zipped up my fingers as I touched the page first page.
BC D, et prophetiss Concilium
I smiled, good thing I had a decent handle on Latin. 500 BC, Prophecies for the Council
Pulling out my phone, I checked the time and groaned. Shit, almost 5 in the morning. It was a risk to take the books, but it was a bigger risk if I was caught in here. I still had to return the dammed key.
I stuffed the thick tome into my bag and grabbed a few others that were older than dirt. Taking one last look at the vast amount information begging to be revealed, I closed the door and locked it.
Maybe I’d have the chance to sneak back another time, I thought, and made my way back down the damp corridor.
I stashed the books in my room beneath a pile of dirty laundry in my closet before heading back to Moris’s room.
Walking at a leisurely pace, I looked both ways and stopped outside his door. Pressing my ear to the wood, I held my breath and listened.
Soft snores met my ears and I sighed in relief. Thank the Goddess he was still sleeping.
Crouching down, I slid the key under the door and shoved it as hard as I could. It slid across the floor for a second, then pinged off of what I assumed to be the bed frame.
The snores cut off abruptly and the mattress screeched.
That was my cue to get the hell out of dodge. I quietly stood and retreated down the hall.
I was halfway through the first book when a heavy-handed knock sounded on my door.
“Just a second!” I called out and shoved the tomes beneath my mattress. Rumpling the blankets, I stepped back and inspected the bed.
Satisfied, I turned on my heel and opened the door.
A tall figure in a black robe with the hood pulled up stood in the hall.
“Good day, Miss Montgomery,” he said in a coarse voice.
I smiled, “To you as well.”
“The Council wishes to see you. I am to take you there directly.”
My brow furrowed, “Okay, do I have time to put my boots on?” I tipped my chin to my black socked feet.
“Of course, I shall remain here while you do so,” he replied, stepping into the room.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, my mind repeated over and over while I calmly pulled my boots on.
“Ready,” I said with fake cheer.
My heart pattered a panicked beat all the way through the stone corridors, up the stairs and into the round chamber.
The Councilmembers were already gathered in their scarlet robes and seated around the large half circle table.
I immediately dropped to a knee and lowered my chin appropriately.
The doors sealed behind me. The only sound was my own breathing as I slowly drew air in and let it out again. All I really wanted to do was run screaming and hyperventilate in a dark corner somewhere.
“Miss Montgomery,” a male voice boomed.
I feigned confidence, “Yes, Councilmember?”
“We have decided that the situation in Southern California needs to be monitored.”
I counted my breaths and waited. One, two, three, four, five…
A female voice sounded, “We are sending you, as you have prior knowledge to what is at hand. I am sure you realize that this is a delicate matter, and requires the utmost secrecy.”
“Of course, Councilmember.”
Another female spoke, “You are not to interact in any way with the Clutch. You are only to observe what is going on and report back any findings immediately via an enhanced raven.” She paused, “I assume you have the magic to create one?”
A live bird spelled to report directly to the Council. No other Mage would be able to tamper with my whispered words into its avian head, nor access it without a specific key word. Should one try, the magic would leave a residue for weeks and marked the Mage as a traitor of the highest order.
“Yes, Councilmember, I have that knowledge.” I replied.
The first male voice picked up where she left off, “Your word is Dhampir. We realize that the raven will need time to deliver your message as San Diego is quite a distance from Seattle. If something happens that requires our attention immediately, you will send your companion back with the information.”
My brows lowered, companion?
The female that fried my chest spoke next, “Do you have any questions?”
The one question I did have was what Sora was… but I doubted that would go over very well, so I decided to start out small. “Yes, Councilmember. Who is my companion for this mission?”
She chuckled, “Our very best, of course. Blake.”
I froze. Blake was the best Hunter we had. His prowess far exceeded that of any other ever recorded. If I was honest with myself, he was smoking hot too. He towered over my 5’9’’ height and had a body that was made for sex. I’d never seen him in the nude, but the clothes he wore left little to the imagination. Women whispered for days about his exploits every time he came to the Stronghold and threw themselves at him in droves.
Her voice cracked like a whip, “Is that a problem?”
I stuttered, “O-of course not, Councilmember.”
“Good,” a male said. “You will leave after we are finished here. Is there anything else you require for your journey?”
This was it, maybe I’d get some answers, maybe I wouldn’t. “Yes, Councilmember.” I tri
ed to sound respectful, “I was hoping that someone would take the time to inform me what Chosen means.”
The room fell silent.
My knee began to ache with the cold from the stone floor as what seemed like an eternity passed.
The male barked suddenly, “Approach!”
Slowly, I stood and whispered a quiet prayer. Goddess, please don’t let my curiosity kill me. My boots made soft scuffing sounds on the floor and I kept my eyes glued to the cracked lines on the polished stone table with my head bowed submissively. I stopped within a foot from the raised dais and waited.
“If knowledge is power, what lengths are you willing to go to obtain the answers you seek?” he rumbled quizzically.
My heart rate kicked up a notch, “As far as possible, Councilmember.”
The female slapped her palm onto the table and I cringed.
“Would you, now?” she asked. “How did you get the key?”
Fuck. “The key, Councilmember?”
Thunder shook the walls as she hissed, “Don’t play coy with me, little girl. The key to the Archives.”
I gulped audibly in terror and stammered, “T-the key was Moris’s, Councilmember.”
“I see, and how did you obtain it?”
“I stalked him to the pub that he is known to frequent. I gained his attention and slipped a sleeping potion into his whiskey. Then I got him back to his room and took it.” I tacked on, “Apologies, Councilmember, it will not happen again.”
“No,” she said. “It won’t.”
The doors slammed open. I turned instinctually, and dropped into a crouch.
Two robed figures drug a struggling person into the room in another black robe. They tossed their load to the floor and retreated; closing the doors softly behind them. The figure sniffled and looked up.
I gasped.
“Moris Deverou, you are accused of treason.” The female paused and continued, “How do you plead?”
His eyes met mine and recognition dawned on his face. “You!”
“ANSWER THE QUESTION!” she screamed.
He sobered, “Not guilty.”
“You had the responsibility of looking after one of our most precious resources, the Archives.” She paused, “Explain.”
