Wicked Magic

by Margot de Klerk

  “Can all vampires do it?” Cynthia asked after she’d taken a sip of her drink.

  “Most of us,” Adrian said. “Except Damien and Lily.”

  “How does it work?”

  “By imposing your will on humans,” Adrian said. “Hypnotism, basically.”

  “Only humans, though,” Nathan added. “Doesn’t work on witches.”

  “Nathan’s touchy because he’s the only human in the group,” Adrian teased.

  Nathan bristled. “That’s not true—”

  Adrian smirked. “Afraid, nephew?”

  “Do you suppose it works on me?” Cynthia asked, cutting off Nathan’s angry response. They all looked at her.

  “No idea,” Monica said. “You’re a supernatural. It might not.”

  Cynthia was the most normal, human person in the group, if you excused the fact that she could turn into an animal at will. Nathan felt his stomach twist at the idea of Cynthia being compelled.

  “We could test it,” Adrian said casually.

  “No,” Nathan replied immediately.

  “Oi, I’m not going to make her do anything crazy. I don’t even need to make her do anything. I’ll know if the compulsion is taking hold.”

  “No!”

  “What does it feel like?” Cynthia asked. She looked at Nathan when she said that.

  “I’ve never been compelled,” he had to admit.

  “Really? What are you scared of, then?”

  Nathan tensed. The comment stung. He took a drink from his mojito then put it down again—maybe a bit too hard, as some of the liquid slopped out the glass onto the table. Nathan stared at it dispassionately.

  “I mean,” Cynthia pressed, “what if—”

  “I’m not going to compel Nathan,” Adrian said, and when Nathan looked up Adrian was watching him with something like pity in his gaze. It leant the lie to his next words: “There’s nothing I need from him, anyway.”

  “Oh, good,” Nathan said, sarcasm barely concealing his fury. “I doubt it would take, anyway.”

  Adrian made a ‘pfft’ sound between his teeth. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he said, “Next round’s on Monica.”

  “Drink a little slower, some of us actually have to pay,” Monica said. Adrian rolled his eyes.

  “Whilst we wait for you to drink at the pace of a dead snail,” he said, “rehash for me what Nathan’s new pet witch said when you saw her.”

  “Don’t call her that,” Nathan said.

  “You marked her,” Adrian said. “I mean, I can’t believe the Witch Council went for this whole thing.”

  “It’s weird,” Monica said, swirling the straw in her drink. “I mean, witches can be weird, but this goes beyond the norm.”

  “Something’s off,” Nathan agreed. “They’re hiding something. You should have seen how mad they were when I asked them to free Kseniya.”

  “So, she’s crucial?” Adrian asked.

  “If she is, she doesn’t know it,” Monica said.

  Nathan took another sip of his drink. “Something feels off. I just can’t figure out what.”

  “This is nothing like last year,” Adrian said. “We knew the Vampire Council was offing people, we just had to catch them at it.”

  “Yeah,” Nathan muttered. “Nothing makes sense.”

  Thinking about things that didn’t make sense, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper package. “M, help me in an experiment?”

  Monica took the package and unwrapped it deftly. “What…” But she trailed off as she pulled out the Nathan’s latest protective ward.

  “Is this yours?” Monica asked in awe.

  “Yeah,” Nathan said. “It’s the same as the one I gave to Kseniya—”

  Monica deftly draped the amulet around her neck and grinned at him. “You’ve improved.”

  “It doesn’t work! Neither does the one I gave to Kseniya.”

  “Looks pretty functional to me,” Adrian said.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Monica asked. “I can feel it.” She pulled a tiny knife out of her pocket and nicked her finger, dripping blood onto the amulet. It began pulsing with a purple-grey aura.

  “See, it works,” Monica said.

  “Yes, but…” Nathan frowned, trying to put his frustration into words. “Not for me.”

  “Ah,” Monica said. To Nathan’s considerable frustration, she gave Adrian a knowing glance.

  “Kid, you’re not very good at protecting yourself,” Adrian said mildly.

  “I’m plenty good at it!”

  “In a fight, sure,” Adrian said, but he didn’t elaborate on what he meant by that. Nathan raked his fingers through his hair.

  “You’re not making sense.”

  “You’ll understand eventually,” Adrian said. “Take it as a compliment. You’re clearly very good at looking after strays.”

  “I’m not a stray,” Monica said, offended.

  “Course not.”

  Monica huffed and downed her drink. “What are your orders?”

  Monica had barely stood up to go to the bar when she stiffened abruptly and slammed her hand to her side where her witches’ mark was. She lurched slightly, as though drunk.

  “M, what’s up?” Nathan asked.

  “It’s witch stuff,” Monica said. She flicked her gaze all around, then started to the door. Nathan, who was closest to the edge of the booth, jumped up after her.

  “Stay here,” he told Cynthia. “I’ll be right back.” He ran after Monica.

  She was out on the street, looking this way and that. Nathan grabbed her arm.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” Monica whispered. “I felt something…”

  “Focus,” Nathan said. “Close your eyes, see if you can pick up what it was.”

  Monica squeezed her eyes shut. She chanted softly under her breath, and Nathan found himself surrounded by her aura, blanketed in it. Then her eyes snapped open.

  “Black magic,” she said.

  “Seriously?” Nathan asked. “Here?”

  “Close,” Monica said. “Nate, I know black magic. I’ve done black magic.” She grabbed his wrist, skin on skin. “Do you mind?”

  Nathan shook his head and forced himself to relax.

  Being channelled by a witch was the weirdest sensation. It was like she pulled something out of him, and her magic flooded in to fill the void. Nathan felt like smoke, disconnected and dispersed. He took a deep breath and smelt the scent of Monica’s magic, like a hazy room filled with candles and a big bed and the sensual touch of a lover. Monica’s magic was very seductive.

  Monica chanted for longer for this time, before she finally opened her eyes. “It’s gone,” she said, “but I know where it was.”

  Adrian and Cynthia stepped out of DoC. Nathan could have kicked himself for leaving Cynthia alone with Adrian.

  “What’s going on?” Adrian tossed their coats to them.

  “This way.” Monica let go of Nathan’s wrists. Cynthia was staring at him oddly.

  Monica led the way. Nathan fell into step beside his girlfriend and caught her hand. “Monica was just channelling me,” he whispered. “Borrowing magical strength.”

  “I’m not jealous,” Cynthia whispered back. “I just find all this so weird.”

  “Me too,” Nathan admitted.

  They followed Monica into Jericho, which was a residential area heading out towards North Oxford, all poky streets lined with lots of cars and small terraced houses. Monica walked down the middle of the road and turned into a street that was identical to the one before and the one after. As soon as she did, Nathan felt it.

  Something came flying out of the darkness at them. Nathan grabbed the girls and dragged them to the ground. The magic dispersed above them, but not before Nathan had got a good handle on its feeling.

  Sticky, cloying, stinky black magic. The same as the Sihr knife.

  “Defendo ex malo!” Monica shouted. The air shimmered around them,
but no further attacks came.

  “Drop the shield,” Adrian said after about two minutes.

  Monica lowered it, sagging against Nathan. Shield magic was brutal on the energy, which was why witches liked wards. Better to keep evil away than to have to defend against it. Adrian vanished from sight, moving too fast for the human eye to track. After a moment, he was back.

  “They’re gone.”

  “I know,” Monica said. “That was just a defence system. We triggered a ward when we entered the street.”

  Adrian’s face was uncharacteristically grim.

  “What is it?” Nathan asked tiredly.

  “They left something behind,” Adrian said, “But I don’t suggest you look unless you’ve got a strong stomach.”

  Monica staggered to her feet. “I’ll look,” she said.

  Nathan supported Monica down the road. Cynthia jogged after them and caught them at the scene of the crime.

  It was… Nathan’s eyes darted around, taking in everything, comprehending nothing. He caught the smell of the magic, and it smelt like nothing Monica had ever done. This was evil. This was the stench of decay. This was what ferals smelt like before hunters killed them.

  It wasn’t even a body, really, what was left. It looked like the body had been dehydrated until it shrunk down to the size of a prepubescent child, and then burnt. The corpse was completely blackened and oddly boneless. It didn’t look like a body.

  Cynthia had to go and throw up in the bushes. Monica, still leaning on Nathan, was shaking.

  Adrian came up behind them, speaking into his phone. “…near the Harcourt Arms, you can’t miss it. …Thanks.” He hung up. “Damien’s on his way over. He’ll take this to the Council.”

  “Good,” Nathan muttered, relieved that they were passing this on to someone more capable.

  Monica staggered suddenly, as though all the strength had drained out of her legs. Nathan grabbed her automatically, pulling her close. She clung to him.

  “Nate, this was… this was…”

  “I know, M,” Nathan mumbled. “I know.”

  This was what happened if the Sahir got you with their creepy draining rituals.

  This was what they’d tried to do to Nathan.

  Suddenly, regurgitating the contents of his stomach looked like quite an appealing option.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  NATHAN WAS STILL REELING from discovering the body when Kseniya was discharged on Sunday. Nathan, Monica, and Adrian agreed to meet in Starbucks, on neutral territory, hoping that Kseniya would be more relaxed in a public place.

  The coffeeshop was full to the brim with early Christmas shoppers when Nathan arrived. He bought himself a latte, before ascending the stairs, scanning the crowd anxiously. How likely was it that there was a vampire or witch amongst this crowd? What if someone overheard them? He soothed his own fears with what he’d learnt in hunter training: the best place for a private conversation was somewhere crowded. It was much harder to pick out individual voices. Don’t stand out, and no one will notice you. The guiltier you looked, the more likely people would think you were up to something.

  Monica and Kseniya were sitting at a table in the corner. Nathan slid into an empty chair. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” Monica said. Kseniya just stared at Nathan.

  “Hello, Kseniya,” Nathan tried.

  “Hello,” Kseniya whispered back. She wrapped her hands around her coffee and continued to watch him.

  “Adrian just texted me, he’s on his way,” Nathan said. “How are things at home? Are you settling in alright?” The last question was directed to Kseniya, who didn’t reply.

  “Fine,” Monica said. “She has the guestroom, and I lent her some clothes, but this is really just a temporary solution.”

  “I know,” Nathan said. “Let’s focus on one problem at a time, though.”

  “Sahir first,” Monica said. “Seeing as that’s the potentially fatal problem.”

  Adrian arrived at that moment, pulling up a chair and ruffling Nathan’s hair as he sat. “Hey, kids.”

  “Oi, you’re the one with the mental age of a ten-year-old,” Monica said.

  “Hey, I’ve been upgraded!” Adrian grinned. “Last time, I was only five.”

  Monica rolled her eyes. She dropped a ward in the middle of the table and tapped it rhythmically. Nathan felt the magic flare to life. With every tap, it expanded a little bit. Monica stopped when it surrounded them.

  “Privacy ward,” she said. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes to talk in private.”

  “Great.” Adrian turned to Kseniya, who suddenly looked worried.

  “This isn’t an interrogation,” Nathan said hurriedly. “If there’s anything you’re not comfortable telling us, you just say so, okay?”

  Kseniya continued to stare at him.

  Nathan sighed. “Okay, we want to know about the Sahir,” he said. “Who are they, why are they here?”

  Kseniya curled her legs under herself and pulled the sleeves of Monica’s jumper over her hands. “I’m not sure who they are,” she said at length. “I was sent to them by my family… six years ago.”

  “How old were you?” Nathan asked.

  “Seventeen.”

  That made her twenty-three now. Nathan would never have guessed.

  “Why were you sent to them?” Adrian asked.

  “My parents died,” Kseniya said matter-of-factly. “I could not go to my other family, I was not allowed join their coven, so they sent me to another. It was a… transaction.”

  Nathan felt cold all of a sudden.

  “You mean they paid money for you to join the Sahir?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Oh hell. Nathan had no words for that. He glanced at Monica, and she looked how he felt: absolutely horrified. After several moments, he cleared his throat.

  “You don’t have to go back to them, now,” he said. “We’ll work out something else.”

  Kseniya frowned and wrapped her hand around the amulet again. She’d imprinted it, and her magic was grey, shot through with pure silver. Nathan had never seen anything like it.

  “I think you do not understand the Sahir,” Kseniya said finally. “They are not forgiving.”

  “Yeah, I had noticed that, funny enough,” Nathan said darkly. He reflexively pressed a hand against his abdomen, tracing the scar there. He could just feel the raised skin through his jumper.

  “You have faced them,” Kseniya said. “But you live still.”

  “Just about,” Nathan agreed uneasily.

  “I think you must be very skilled,” Kseniya said. “This is unusual. The Sahir train their warriors very hard.”

  “Maybe I’m just lucky,” Nathan said. “Can you tell us what they want?”

  “They want power,” Kseniya said. “The most powerful victims are the half humans, the shifters, weres, witches. Mortal supernaturals. These are the people they kill.”

  “That’s who they’re after,” Adrian drawled. “It’s not a statement of purpose. They aren’t just killing for the sake of it. Why do they need their power?”

  “I…” Kseniya clenched her fist around the amulet, turning her knuckles white. “I don’t understand.”

  “What’s their higher purpose?” Monica asked gently. She frowned at Adrian, who glared back at her. Nathan understood Adrian’s impatience; he wanted answers, too. But Kseniya seemed so fragile, and they’d get nothing at all if she fell apart.

  Understanding dawned on Kseniya’s face. “That’s… they want…” She struggled for a moment, then looked hopefully at Nathan. “Zakonnost.”

  “Legitimacy,” Nathan translated. Kseniya looked relieved, and she abruptly launched into a tirade in Russian. It was more words in one go than Nathan had heard from her in total since they’d first met. After a few seconds, he waved his hands at her to get her attention. “Slowly,” he said. “I’m not that good at Russian.”

  Kseniya repeated what she’d said, and Nathan translated for Monic
a, who was the only one who didn’t understand. “The Sahir take in mostly outcasts, but there’s a… core group… who are… loyalists? Also, some who joined voluntarily, but others are like Kseniya. They collect witches who have been excommunicated from their own covens and give them the chance to practice magic again.”

  “So they want coven status,” Monica surmised. “They’re here to try and get the buy-in of the Witch Council.”

  “Yes,” Kseniya said. “They want… make deal with the Council.”

  “Fuck,” Adrian said.

  “Have they succeeded?” Monica asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kseniya mumbled. “This is for Sahir leaders to know.”

  “Damn,” Nathan muttered.

  “If they did make a deal, what would it be?” Adrian asked.

  “They’ll be asking for coven status,” Monica said. “That means they can regulate themselves, they’re official. People can join their coven. They can have an influence on who gets elected to the Council, what laws are passed.”

  “That would be epically bad,” Nathan said.

  “What would they give the Council in return, though?” Adrian asked. “What could they possibly promise? Death magic is illegal under Council law, meaning the Witch Council can’t legitimise them. What can the Sahir offer that would get them to overlook that law?”

  “The vampires and hunters would never allow it,” Nathan said, and then suddenly everything came clear. “Unless—”

  “Unless they’re not asking, they’re threatening,” Adrian said. “Forcing the Witch Council. Can they do that?” he asked Monica.

  “The Witch Council is incredibly powerful,” Monica said. “I’d find it highly unlikely.”

  Adrian frowned, but Nathan’s mind was racing ahead. “If the Witch Council can’t be threatened and they can’t legitimise the Sahir without the buy-in from the Hunter and Vampire Councils,” he said slowly, “Then it’s not the Witch Council they need to threaten, is it?”

  Adrian frowned. “You think they’d go after the other Councils?”

  “Maybe,” Nathan said.

  “Shit,” Adrian said. He pulled his phone out and started texting. Monica turned to Kseniya.