Black Spark (Dark Magic Enforcer Book 1)

by Al K. Line

  "Those times are long behind her, have been for centuries. She is locked out of the true Hidden world. She stayed here too long, too often, and this is how she survives now—as a physical entity that has to obey the laws of travel. I hear she even eats and drinks now. Even has an interest in fashion and home decor if you can believe it. Such is the modern age."

  "Rikka, I know all this. I know what she is. What I want to know is what she has done."

  "My dear boy, have patience. Indulge me. It's important you know the details."

  "Sorry, Rikka." He was covering old ground, but maybe it was just his fatherly instinct—which I was amazed at him for sharing—rearing up and wanting to ensure I could be as safe as possible.

  "We, the Council, none of us normally know where she is or what she is doing. She is secretive, moves like a ghost, and one minute she is mixing with royalty in some unheard of small European country, looking like she will be the next Queen, the next she pops up living a seemingly normal life as a secretary in some city or other. She gets bored, craves new experience. New men. She is still entirely a magical being, but she remains here, in physical form, showing her true self only to the man she has chosen."

  "And you sent me to deal with her. Goddamn!"

  "Only because I knew you could. Or at least convince her to stay away from the man she currently has enthralled and under her control."

  About time. "Who is this guy? Why now? She's been around forever, as you say, so why the urgency now?"

  "Because, my dear boy, she has taken a shine to Mage Teppo Quimby, Ambassador of the Finnish Dark Council, next expected Head, and both Councils are less than happy about the situation. Neither her impertinence, nor his foolishness to be so easily enamored by the likes of her. It does not bode well for his future, even if you extricate him from this mess, but it bodes even worse for him, and us all, if this continues much longer. Who knows what he has told her already. It doesn't bear thinking about."

  "Blimey." In other company I would have used a strong expletive, but in many ways Rikka is a throwback to times long gone, and he will not abide what he calls base language. It's not in his nature to use vulgar vocabulary when he still revels in the joy of language and all it has to offer. I think he can speak almost every language there is, so refuses to accept swearing as part of a modern and educated person's conversation.

  "Yes, blimey, indeed. Teppo and I go way back. Way, way back. I've known him for centuries and he is a good man, if a little wayward now and then. Teppo is an accomplished mage, with strong connections to the Empty, and he is from the homeland. But, and this is strictly between us, Spark," I nodded, "he is not Head material, and this proves it. He is too wild and reckless. Never thinks enough about business, and has repeatedly failed to do as he is told by his Council or the Hidden Council. He thinks he knows best sometimes, and he likes to drink and party. He's probably blown his entire career. Almost seven hundred years and he still hasn't learned how to act like a grown-up. Well, it is a shame, but you were sent to bring him to me, so I could arrange his passage home and give him a talking to."

  "A talking to?" This did not bode well for Teppo. A talking to from Rikka, with all Council's agreement, was not something you wanted.

  "Yes, a talking to." Rikka stared at me with those eyes of his, those intelligent, fat, sunken eyes wise beyond even his nine hundred years, and had to say no more. We both knew what it meant and it would not be good for Teppo.

  "You were to go get him, and deal with Ankine Luisi."

  "Oh, so just another enforcer job?" I said, wishing I had never woken from my dream-state of the morning that already felt like a lifetime ago.

  "No, Spark, definitely not. This is important. To me, to you, to all of us. Why do you think I chose you?" I stared at him blankly. He sighed at my ineptitude. "Because you're the best, Faz Pound, that's why. You act like a right idiot at times, you and your suits, and your wisecracks, but you are the best enforcer I have ever had. I trained you."

  "Wow! Um, thanks."

  "So don't blow it twice," he said, leaning forward and staring at me. "There will be no more chances after this, Spark. I won't be able to protect you if you fail. This is out of my hands, an international affair, and there is no way the Council, or the vampires, will let you off. They won't care about the consequences. Taavi will punish you for failing, for leaving unfinished business that you have been tasked with. You know how it works."

  I knew how it worked all right. If you were given a job it was your job. It didn't matter who else got involved, or how you dealt with it, as long as you abided by our rules. The only thing that mattered was the job got completed. There are records, there are Laws, there are many things we can do, but there is no forgiveness. There is certainly no mercy.

  "I think I'll get going now. Lots to do, people to see, wizards to save and succubus to capture."

  "That's my boy. And he's a mage, Spark, a mage." Rikka gave me a weak smile and put his half-eaten sandwich back down on the plate. I hadn't realized things were quite that serious until then. "Don't forget your sidekick," warned Rikka.

  "I won't."

  I left. I even forgot to ogle Plum. It was becoming a habit.

  As I dodged wayward undead and made my way back to the car where I could see Oliver waiting, I wondered what to do about the vampire. Rikka had made his instructions clear, and it was unlike him, as usually he did what he could to maintain the peace.

  It's always a delicate balancing act with the vampires as they are so hot-headed and prone to acting before thinking. Rikka usually keeps well out of their way as there is nothing to be gained from becoming embroiled in their business. And besides, they will have nothing to do with the Dark Council, thinking it beneath them, having their own Vampire Council, with Taavi as its Head.

  They have their rules, the rest of us have ours, but all creatures of magic follow a few basic Laws that have remained unchanged for as long as anyone can remember. You stay Hidden, you do not interfere with the business of other races or species, and the Hidden Council has final say. Always.

  Even Taavi acknowledges the Hidden Council. If he and other Heads throughout the world didn't, well, vampires would be wiped off the planet quicker than you could say sorry.

  For Rikka to basically tell me to eliminate Oliver was pushing the boundaries a little. It would cause friction unless I had an extremely good reason for interfering.

  As I got to the car I changed my mind. Oliver sneered at me in that condescending way he has, like he was better than me—all too common with vampires—and I would have happily blasted him to hell right there and then if I thought I could get away with it.

  "Get in. I've got business to attend to."

  "Hurry up, I'm hungry."

  "Tough. Not my problem."

  "It will be if you don't get your troubles sorted soon."

  I turned to Oliver and got in his face. "If you threaten me ever again, I mean ever, I will rip that smug smile right off your face and feed you to the zombies piece by little piece. Do I make myself clear?"

  Oliver showed his fangs and sneered again.

  I got in the car. He got in behind me. I can tell you now, having a vampire sat behind you is seriously freaky. It makes the hairs on your neck stand on end and it's really hard to focus on your driving.

  I ignored him best I could and headed back into the city.

  A Coffee Break

  "Me again. Fancy grabbing a coffee? I can make up for earlier." I didn't expect her to say yes, but it was worth a shot.

  "Sure, sounds nice. Not that I was trying to have a sleep or anything."

  "Oh! Whoops, sorry. I thought you would be out and about, um, burning off a little, er... Sorry."

  "Burning off some what?"

  "Nothing, my mistake. The usual? I'm back in town after a little diversion."

  "Sure, give me fifteen minutes and I'll see you there. Is you-know-who still there?" I could almost hear the shudder.

  I glanced over at
Oliver who was scowling at the people walking by like they were dirt. More than anything, I hate the condescending attitude many older vampires have. It's as if they forget they were once human too. I tried not to think about Kate and what she might become. I had faith in her. I knew, and still know, that she is better than that. "Yeah, but just ignore him. I do."

  "I'll try, but he's bad news, Faz. And he leers."

  "Tell me about it. You still coming?"

  "Sure. Get me a caramel macchiato. I fancy something different."

  "Um, okay. Bye." She hung up. I had no idea what a caramel macchiato was, and still don't. These coffee shops freak me out. I always just end up ordering a filter coffee. It's like I've missed out on lessons that everyone else in the world has taken.

  A cappuccino this, a dolce latte whatever. Flat whites, macchiatos and mochas—the words make me shudder. Whenever I look at the menu board in these places I'm struck dumb and then some guy or girl, who call themselves a barista, whatever that is, will ask what I want and I say coffee and feel all eyes turn to me like I'm from another planet.

  How did everyone else learn this stuff? I just want something hot and strong.

  I was amazed Kate wasn't off doing who-knows-what after her feed, but I guess I underestimated her and should have known she wouldn't be running around half-crazed, hyped up on blood magic and maybe skipping through an orgy of vampires, naked and covered in fluids too numerous to mention.

  Loitering outside until she came felt like a very good idea. Screw ordering, I would wait, and Champion Slayer of Demons, Mighty Wielder of Infinite Power, Puncher of the Hidden, Slapper of the Silly, and Stutterer at Sexy Vampire Friends could have a girl get him a coffee.

  I also had an ulterior motive.

  After a quick trip home to change, leaving Oliver the Glum waiting outside, and a few unanswered calls to the Finnish Embassy, followed by a little over-the-phone enforcer charm of the ever-so-slightly magical kind, I managed to trace who had been working there and dealing with the day-to-day running of the place.

  It took a while, as I had to go through several contacts, eventually ending up talking to one of our Hidden agency people—hey, we all have to earn a living—and convinced her to give me the number of the woman who used to work there. The name sounded familiar.

  I was right. It was a Cardiff girl I'd met a few times before. One of us. Hidden. She was a young witch, still learning the ropes, and it would be many years before she could truly take the title. But Grandma knew of her and liked her, and I'd met her there a few times when I'd popped in, retreating as quickly as I could when confronted with a kitchen full of women arguing over the relative merits of St. John's Wort as opposed to whatever the alternative is—I zone out at such talk.

  Those kind of get-togethers are not for the likes of me. A room crammed full of ancient women, some fun, others as serious as a vampire who hasn't fed for a century, all with a bunch of young, wide-eyed girls at various stages of learning, is enough to make the most hardened of enforcers go weak at the knees and hightail it before they can force-feed you potions—because it will do you good—or ask once again why you don't settle down and get married. And would I like to meet their granddaughter, she is quite pretty.

  Anyway, Mary was a nice girl, and more than happy to tell me what she knew. She was seriously annoyed at how she had been treated, and I promised to put in a good word for her with Grandma if she could help me out. She gushed at the offer, as getting on Grandma's radar is no small matter, especially for a young witch-in-training.

  It seemed that it was a regular thing for Ankine to go shopping before she and the Ambassador hit the clubs late in the evening, him hardly ever making an appearance until late the following day. Mary had received her marching orders from Teppo, who she said had begun to act strangely, but it wasn't her place to say anything. Her tone made it clear she was less than impressed with Ankine Luisi. She told me all she could about their usual routine. I just hoped that it was still the same.

  I needed something to go on though, and this was the best I could come up with apart from just confronting her head on. A little intel wouldn't hurt, and I wanted to speak to Teppo alone if I could. According to Mary, Ankine was usually out until well past five, sometimes six, so I had plenty of time to see her in action, maybe get an idea of what I faced, and to be honest I suppose I was putting off the inevitable.

  Pretending to talk on my phone, so I didn't look like a total loser, even though I knew Regulars couldn't even see me, only Hidden—and I bet most don't know how to get a coffee either—I watched people come and go from the stores.

  We were on the main stretch through the shopping district, and most people have to pass that way to hit up the various department stores and boutiques. It was pleasant. Normal.

  The rain had stopped, making the new paving gleam like a polished crystal ball as the sun made a risky move. It dared to shine for a few brief moments, before a concerted attack by the Welsh cloud gang took back their territory. The victorious clouds celebrated with a downpour so sudden and fierce the street emptied in seconds. The coffee shop risked expelling those without sufficient knowledge of its secret language as it became increasingly crowded.

  Oliver scowled at the rain, but remained in the street, getting more morose the wetter he got. I acted sensibly and stood under the canopy while people came and went with their drinks and muttered about the weather like it was a revelation it rained in Cardiff.

  Okay, I chose a coffee shop just to annoy Oliver. I knew he would have to remain some distance away as he had little choice if he wanted to stay alive. Vampires can't handle being in close proximity to a lot of humans, not the older ones like Oliver. It's too much temptation, like putting a witch in a herb garden and telling her to not even smell the leaves. Young ones can handle it as they don't have the same urges, but older vampires can never get enough blood magic. Even Oliver was intelligent enough to know that sitting in a crowded room would send him spiraling out of control, or make him too sick to remain.

  So it was with great pleasure that I smiled at Kate when she arrived, opened the door to the unknowable world of coffee, and ushered her in ahead of me.

  I winked at Oliver as we left him outside like a dog on a piece of string. Served him right.

  Hopefully the bait would work.

  False Pretenses

  I tricked Kate into ordering coffee as I said I needed a pee, and when I returned she had picked a table in the middle of the crowded room. That wouldn't do at all. So, while she watched, bemused by this everyman, this entirely forgettable, nobody-remembers-what-he-looks-like man, I went and stood by a table at the window.

  Some guy was there with a coffee and his laptop, taking up a table meant for two, coat on the empty chair and his attention lost to his Facebook timeline. I stood there, behind him, just for a second. His timeline was full of mentions of the viral campaigns Kate had put together and he laughed and tutted at the videos. Man, she had saved my hide with that.

  He felt my presence and turned, then went straight back to his screen. I was nothing to look at. He would have already forgotten I was there, would never remember me, even with the bleached hair.

  I let my tattoos tingle, not enough to make me feel sick, and summoned up a feeling that spread out from my body just enough to touch him. Wizards aren't all about blasting you with dark powers, it can be subtle too, just like with Grandma. A sense of urgency and forgetfulness permeated the air. This is the true art of dark magic—manipulating the energy you draw and actually making it into something subtle rather than just blasting away. It's a mental game, much more difficult to master but infinitely more useful.

  The man became jittery and kept glancing at his watch. He drained the dregs of his mystery beverage then slammed the lid down on his laptop. He would be feeling like he had someplace to be, like he'd forgotten something important. He grabbed his coat and made a dash for the door.

  I turned, winked at Kate and beamed. As she came over w
ith our drinks I pulled a chair out for her. She sat, shaking her head.

  "Aah, that's better."

  "What's going on?" she accused, smiling in amusement but squinting at me. She knows me too well.

  "Okay, I have an ulterior motive. I have to deal with Ankine Luisi now, and no, I'm not going to get you involved." A look of relief washed over her. "But I wanted to see you, and I, well, I wanted your opinion on her when you see her."

  "So you woke me up, for the second time today, just so I could stare at women with you?"

  "Hey, don't make it sound dirty. But, yeah. Not all women, just her. Tell me what you see when she comes along."

  "And how do you know she will?" Kate took a sip of her overpriced, unpronounceable and calorie dense coffee, then sighed with pleasure. I drank my filter coffee and shrugged—I don't know what the fuss is about.

  "Oh, she will. I've set some bait." I nodded at Oliver stood in the street, scowling at the people that passed, following some with his eyes as they entered or exited stores. He was looking for his next meal, sniffing out the lonely, the dispossessed, the alone or the weak, the ones that wouldn't be missed. I hope Kate never gets like that. I will do all I can to prevent it, and she's strong.

  "How so?"

  I turned from the window and let Kate have all my attention. She looked amazing. That inner fire that burned so bright after feeding is hard to resist, and I could see others in the place just as fascinated and drawn to her as I was.

  To her credit, she didn't notice, or if she did she never acknowledged it. Classy through and through. "Because succubi are drawn to men, use them and abuse them, but they are also drawn to magic, like a faery to spaghetti. And blood magic is so close to what they know, what they are, that she'll be along to investigate. I'm sure of it. She comes shopping most days, apparently, so hopefully we can get a good look at her."