Sorcerer's Creed Books 1-3

by N. P. Martin

  Angela Crow's eyes flashed red for a second. "Why would you ask me that?"

  I held up a hand. "I'm sorry, it just slipped out in the conversation."

  She stared hard at me for a long moment, as if deciding how she should proceed. Her next question surprised me though. "Have you heard from her?"

  "Yes, actually," I said nodding. "She came through on a trans-dimensional link a few months ago."

  "And what did she say? Did she mention me?" She was trying to appear uncaring, but I could see she felt more than that. She may have treated Jennifer like a piece of property once, but it would seem her daughter's long absence had somehow made itself felt in Angela Crow, perhaps in the form of a yearning for her only kin.

  "She asked how you were. I told her I didn't see you that much. Not at all, in fact."

  Angela Crow nodded, then a small sigh escaped her lips just before she drank some of her whiskey. Clearly, she missed her daughter. It was also true that Jennifer missed her mother, despite everything that had happened between them. As I knew full well, family ties were hard to break. Perhaps even impossible to break. "I haven't spoken to her in over twenty years. Not since she left me."

  For once, I felt some sympathy for the Crow, even though I really shouldn't have. She only had herself to blame for her only daughter leaving her. The way she treated Jennifer was unforgivable, much like the way my father had treated me and my family was unforgivable. But who knows? If my father had of been still around and wasn't quite so evil and twisted as he was in the end, I may have been able to salvage a relationship with the man. Which would have been better than killing him as I did. "If it matters to you, I can tell you that Jennifer might be open to talking to you at some point. That's just my opinion, I have to stress. She hasn't actually said so."

  Angela Crow's face seemed to soften after I said that. "You know, Creed," she said. "I'm not the monster you think I am." Could have fooled me. "I have good reasons for doing what I do." Serial killers have good reasons for doing what they do as well. "My kind are not human. Jennifer always refused to accept that fact."

  "She just wanted to be someone different," I said, still somewhat cautiously in case I invited her rage again. "That's all."

  "Did you want to be someone different, Creed?"

  "I became someone different."

  She smiled. "Of course you did."

  A silence fell for a few moments as we both sat drinking our whiskey, her in deep thought, me hoping I could leave soon.

  "I'd like to help you in taking down this SciCane group," she said, breaking the silence.

  I was surprised to hear her say it. "What's in it for you?"

  She rolled her eyes at me. "Can't I help protect my own city? I'm going to be mayor soon after all."

  "Fair enough. Just as long as we're in agreement that I destroy the Dark Codex when I find it."

  "Of course."

  "Good," I said, though I still wasn't sure if she was working an angle, maybe to try and get her hands on the book. I knew better than to underestimate the Crimson Crow's lust for power. The Dark Codex would certainly be a big prize for her.

  She stood up then. "I'll get all the information I can and pass it along."

  "Thanks." I was still slightly weirded out by the fact that she was helping me, though I had no doubt as to her sincerity. I just couldn't help thinking that she was working an angle that would become clear at some point down the line. Despite my trepidation, however, I gladly accepted her help. With the almost infinite resources she had at her disposal, I was hoping she would prove to be a valuable asset in the case.

  Angela Crow crossed the room at that point and turned up the lights. For the first time, I noticed there was a naked girl hanging from the ceiling with the rope around her wrists. The girl looked dead, though I couldn't be sure. "Now," Angela Crow said. "If you'll excuse me. It's lunch time."

  I took a last look at the poor girl about to be drained dry by the Crimson Crow. "I'll leave you to it then," I said and left the room.

  7

  Killing Time

  "So was everything you said true?"

  Benji called at the Sanctum after I phoned him and told him to come around with my iPhone, which contained the video footage he shot of me at the park. We were down in the basement, and I was replenishing the potions that I had used on Ace, who was probably finding his libido a bit flat these days. He'd be half the wolf he used to be by now, which didn't bother me in the slightest. "All true," I said to Benji as I mixed up ingredients in a small clay bowl.

  "That woman is really a vampire?" Benji looked a little disturbed by this.

  "There's a lot I haven't told you." Lifting the bowl, I poured the contents into a small glass bottle. "This city, and this world are not what you think." I was trying to ease Benji into the world of the supernatural. He was just a kid, and I didn't want to overload his brain with too much information in case it drove him insane, which was a real possibility.

  "I already know the supernatural exists." He wrinkled his nose at the strong smell coming from the bottle I was pouring into. "I know there are monsters out there already."

  "Yes, but we still have to get along with them," I said, corking the bottle and placing it on a shelf. "Most of the time anyway."

  "So if that mayor woman is a vampire, why didn't she kill you for doing what you did?"

  I couldn't help but smile. "Believe me, she wanted to."

  "Why didn't she then?"

  "I have my leverage. Plus, things aren't always so black and white, kid. The supernatural world is as gray as it gets. There are shades of gray you've never even seen before. That's what makes it all so complicated."

  Benji thought for a second. "So how do you tell right from wrong then if everything is gray?"

  I smiled at him, never failing to be impressed by his wise mind. "Good question, and one I wish I had the answer to." I shook my head at the notion of trying to see things in such cut and dried terms. "I guess you just have to go with your gut."

  "Is that what you do?"

  "Always. Doesn't always mean I'm right though."

  "You still mess up a lot?"

  My laughter was tinged with bitterness as my mind tried to flash memories of my fuckups over the years, but which I shut down immediately. "Oh yes, I fuck things up quite a bit. It's the human condition. I've come to accept that. Mostly anyway. It still hurts like fuck."

  "What does?"

  "The pain and consequences of making the wrong choice." I couldn't help thinking of Leona at that moment. "It never gets any easier."

  Benji frowned to himself as he seemed to mull over my words. But it didn't matter how much he thought about it, he would never know the pain I spoke off until it stabbed him in the belly one day. He was still young and largely innocent, and not for the first time, I questioned whether I should be helping him steer towards a life of pain and sometimes impossible choices. Life as a Sleepwalker was challenging enough. Life as an awakened adept was damn near impossible sometimes. But who was I to stand in the way of anyone if that's the life they wanted? Benji had already made his choice. It was my duty now to make sure he didn't live to regret the choice he made, to fortify him against the worst that would inevitably be thrown at him. "So can you teach me something today?" he asked as if affirming his commitment to the path he was now on.

  Despite my reservations, I was pleased by his enthusiasm and desire to learn. He reminded me of myself long ago. "Sure thing, kid," I said.

  After gladly giving Benji the magick lesson I'd promised him and sending him away with a bundle of books to read as "homework", I went straight to the Op Room and plugged my iPhone into my Mac so I could watch the video footage of myself at the park. As soon as I saw myself on camera, I flinched at my appearance and at the shock of seeing myself on the video in the first place. For as long as I can remember, I've hated having my photo taken, or being filmed in any way. In my family home in Ireland, there exists a number of old home movies that my father
shot over the years, and in most of them, I can be found hiding behind a book or walking out of the room, only to have my father insist that I reveal myself to the camera, which I would do, awkwardly, probably coming across like some kid who was being made to entertain a sexual predator. Not that my father was that way inclined, not that I knew anyway. Which was probably just as well, because his everyday abuse was bad enough. I didn't know what I would have done if he had sexually assaulted me and my brother and sister on top of everything else. Christ, I'm messed up enough as it is, I thought, forcing myself to turn my mind away from such dark, depressing thoughts.

  The image of myself on screen was depressing enough. Jesus, I looked like a fucking madman standing up on that park bench as I waved around the placard with Angela Crow's face on it, shouting that the woman was a vampire and that she would bleed everyone dry. It was no wonder the crowd assembled around me didn't believe a word I said. I wouldn't have believed it either.

  I cringed again when I watched through squinted eyes myself launching the fireball that ultimately impacted the poor guy in the crowd. Then I burst out laughing when the park cops showed up, and the fat cop arrested me. "What a fucking pantomime," I said shaking my head. "If nothing else Crowley666 will laugh their ass off. Christ...the things I fucking do."

  Logging into the dark web, I brought up the SciCane website and then uploaded the video to the site, leaving a comment underneath that said I would like to join the fight against tyranny and to make magick available to all. I also added that as a sorcerer and accomplished alchemist, I would be a valuable asset to the group.

  Now all I had to do was wait.

  Fuck waiting around, however. It felt like all I did these days was wait around. Bad thoughts came when I sat around with nothing to do, which was usually followed by too much whiskey, which I was trying to cut back on for the sake of the case. So to stay on the move, I drove over to Division HQ and was granted access immediately this time. And since Brentwood had given me a security card, I didn't need any escorts once I went inside.

  I took my time as I made my way down to the Central Operations Room as I wanted to get a better idea of the inner workings of the place. This was the first time I had unrestricted (mostly anyway) access to the place, so I was making the most of it. Division HQ was made up of three floors, the bottom floor being mostly a maximum security holding wing for whatever supernatural miscreants were brought in, of which I was one at one time. I still remembered how grim and clinical it was down there, with each prisoner being held in separate cells with reinforced glass windows. You couldn't help but feel like Hannibal Lecter as you stood in the small cell, with guards, doctors and lab techs walking by as if you weren't there at all. The interrogation rooms were also on that floor, which I was also familiar with.

  The next floor up was a series of large rooms where Division agents trained in weapons and tactics. Leona used to say it was her favorite place in Division, and where she spent most of her time while she was there, either training or instructing others. The final floor was the one I was on now. It was mostly office space, and also were the Central Op Room was, which I was currently heading for. I noticed on this visit that the dirty looks were fewer in number, most people having accepted that the scruffy sorcerer guy was part of the team, at least for now.

  When I walked into the Op Room, I found it to be almost empty. No sign of Brentwood or the gaggle of top brass that sat at the huge table on my last visit. Only a few tech people sat around the massive screen at the front of the room. And Bethany, who glanced over her shoulder at me and then quickly turned away again as if I was of no interest to her whatsoever. I didn't take her cold manner personally. Bethany was atypical as far as personality and behavior went. My kind of person, in other words.

  "Where's the boss?" I asked Bethany as I came up behind her to find her watching the video I had uploaded to the SciCane website.

  "This is my fifth viewing," she said in her blunt sort of way. "It's really hilarious."

  I smiled, unsure of how to feel about that. "Thanks, I guess."

  "Have you always been nuts?"

  "What?" I snorted.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me. "I like nuts."

  Snorting again, I shook my head. "Okay..."

  "Would you like to get a cup of coffee with me? We can go to the cafeteria. The coffee sucks, but there's nowhere else."

  "This place has a cafeteria? Why didn't I know that?"

  "What, you think we just order pizza?"

  I shook my head at her bluntness. "Of course not."

  She stood up and faced me without much direct eye contact. "So are you coming?"

  I nodded. "Sure. We can discuss the comedic merits of my little video."

  Her wide mouth shifted into a smile of sorts. "There aren't any."

  "You said it was hilarious."

  "Unintentionally only."

  "Okay," I said nodding. "And that's bad obviously."

  "Only for you, as you have to suffer the humiliation while everyone else laughs."

  "Jesus." I shook my head. "I'll bet Brentwood loves you."

  She frowned. "Why?"

  "You're blunter than he is."

  She shook her head as if she didn't understand. "I'm just being honest."

  "I know." I smiled. "Come on. Let's get a coffee, and you can tell me all about how you ended up in this place."

  Bethany nodded awkwardly and then led the way to the cafeteria, which turned out to be on the same floor, not too far from the Central Op Room. The cafeteria was empty except for one woman working the counter and a few Division personnel seated around the place who looked up briefly as Bethany and I walked in. Bethany ordered herself a chocolate muffin and a cappuccino. I got myself a sandwich because I hadn't eaten in a while and a pot of black coffee. I also paid for everything. "Thanks," Bethany said as we sat down at a formica table.

  "No problem," I said before biting into my sandwich, which actually didn't taste too bad. It would do to fill the hole.

  We sat in slightly awkward silence for a while as I devoured my sandwich and Bethany picked at her muffin, then she said, "Agent Lawson is your girlfriend, right?"

  I stopped chewing for a second before putting the rest of the sandwich back on the plate, having lost my appetite. "She isn't Agent Lawson anymore," I said as I wiped my hands. "Well she is, but not here."

  "The FBI. I know."

  "Did you know her?"

  Bethany nodded as she continued to pull bits off her chocolate muffin. "Of course."

  I waited, then asked, "Were you friends?" I didn't recall Leona ever mentioning anyone named Bethany, but then Leona was never in the habit of discussing work unless it involved me, or she needed help on a case. Division politics rarely if ever came up.

  "Not really."

  "You didn't like her?"

  Bethany made a pained sort of face. "It's not like that. I just..." She trailed off as she stared intensely at her plate, then she glanced briefly at me and gave a tense smile. "I'm not good with people."

  I smiled. "You're in good company then. Neither am I." Which wasn't exactly true. I was good at negotiating with people, but emotionally speaking, I got a little lost most of the time.

  "No," she said shaking her head. "I mean I have this personality that..." She trailed off again as she shifted in her seat.

  "Hey." My tone was casual. "No need to explain. I get it. Why don't you tell me instead how a smart girl like you ended up in a place like this."

  She smiled, slightly more comfortable now, her huge green eyes like shimmering pools in her pale face. "I hacked the Division mainframe. It was go to jail or go to work here."

  "Not much of a choice. You used to be a hacker?"

  "I'm still a hacker."

  "Why'd you hack Division?"

  She stared down at her plate again. "My brother and I were walking home one night when we got attacked by a werewolf. My brother died."

  "I'm sorry."

  She sh
rugged, looked like she was going to cry for a moment, but held it together. "I didn't know it was a werewolf at the time. I just knew it wasn't an ordinary creature. So I did what I do best, I started digging until I found proof that werewolves existed. When I hacked this place, I got my proof and a whole lot more."

  "But Brentwood nabbed you."

  She nodded. "That was six months ago."

  "You seem to be doing okay here. Brentwood seems to like you."

  "I get the job done. That's all he cares about."

  "Tell me about it."

  "I read your record," she said as she sat back in her chair, seeming slightly more at ease now.

  "My record?" I didn't know why I was so surprised that Division had a file on me, but I was.

  "You've done a lot of shit."

  I laughed. "You could say that."

  "You seem cool, though."

  I smiled. "Thanks. I'd say you're the coolest cat in this fucking place."

  She looked embarrassed as she looked away. "It's not hard, is it?"

  "Don't sell yourself short."

  She dared to make eye contact with me, holding it for a long second, her wide eyes revealing much depth and intelligence, and of course pain. There is always pain.

  Bethany seemed almost glad when her phone pinged. She took it out of her pocket and smiled as she looked at the screen. "We just got a hit from SciCane," she said, then smiled. "It seems your audition was successful."

  8

  Invitation To Madness

  Back at the Sanctum after leaving Division HQ, I was about to prepare for my upcoming meeting with SciCane when I got a call I wasn't expecting. When I saw the caller ID, I stopped dead in the living room and stared at the phone for a long moment, unsure whether to even answer or not. Eventually, I did as I sat down. "Hey," I said into the phone, my voice reserved.