by J. P. Rice
I looked down at him and gazed into his eyes. “If your story is true, I thank you kindly. Did they make any threats as to what they were going to do with us?”
Mike bit at the open air, apparently testing the strength of his jaw. “No. Octavius said, ‘lock them up until I decide what I want to do.’ I don’t plan on staying here long though, not sure about you.”
“What did you have in mind?” I wanted to know.
“Now you want to work together.” He smirked smugly and shook his head. He pointed toward the front of the cell. “Did you check out the wards on the cell door?”
“Yeah. They’re pretty intense. I gave up because it was making my headache worse.”
Mike shifted around on the lumpy cot, trying to get comfortable. “I need to study it some more before I can solve it. But after that, I don’t know where we are or how to get out. And I have no idea if we’re heavily guarded. Have you ever been in this pen, or know where we are?”
I looked out through the bars again but didn’t recognize anything. “No. We could be in the basement of the cabin or in some off building on the property. Or they could have transported us somewhere. It’s hard to say since I don’t know how long I was out for.”
“Me neither.” Mike paused for a second. Hesitantly, he said, “I need to ask you a question, and don’t take this the wrong way, but who the hell are you?”
Good. He didn’t know who I was. “Name is Gale Sutherland.”
I didn’t want to reveal too much. He wasn’t an enemy, per se, but you never knew who could be working against you.
Mike stood up quickly and raised his voice, “Come on with that bullshit. I heard Octavius call you June back there.”
I paused for a second, trying to come up with an excuse. “That’s my middle name that old friends sometimes call me.”
Mike said, “Still doesn’t add up. I can see you’re plugged into the pipeline of the supernatural in Pittsburgh. I’ve been here for almost two years and I’ve never seen or heard about you.”
If he hadn’t heard about me then he hadn’t been running with the big dogs. Not to brag, but I played with fallen Gods and the top of the supernatural food chain. Perhaps this kid wasn’t as badass as I’d thought. Especially if he had taken an ass whooping from the wolves.
I stared through the bars at freedom sitting on the other side, taunting me, and explained, “I was in retirement. I know a good bit of people in Pittsburgh and I know the Celtic Gods. Before you arrived, I was the one who kept everyone safe from the monsters of the night.”
The conversation was stilted, almost guarded. As if two prizefighters were circling each other in the ring, feeling out the opponent, trying to figure out what the other was plotting. Then waiting for the opponent to make a fatal flaw. I had a feeling he didn’t want to reveal too much either, which made me question whether I could trust his answers.
A sudden glow came over his battered face and his eyes lit up. “That’s awesome. It looks like you are out of retirement now. Can we go see the Gods and tell them that you’re ready to take back over again?”
I hated to stomp on his excitement, but I had unfinished business to take care of. “What do you mean? Why would you want to stop at such a young age?”
“I’m young, but I’ve been through some serious shit already. I just want to be a family man for a while. My girl’s pregnant and we have an adopted son. I’m tired of being a fly-by dad. And the supernatural stuff never stops. It’s one thing after another.”
That was exactly why I had gone into early retirement. Unfortunately, I had no family. The chosen one had it all. I had nothing and was all alone. Trying not to sound bitter, I said, “I can understand that. That’s why I stepped away for a while. As much as I’d like to help you out, I have an unfinished mission that I need to keep myself open for.”
“Lugh’s Spear?” he asked immediately.
“No. Why would you assume that?” I scratched my neck nervously.
Mike responded, “I’ve heard a few rumors about it lately. Some people said that I would encounter some serious power players if I went on the hunt for it. So then, why are you in Pittsburgh?”
“My husband. He’s been gone for a while, and although everyone else has told me to give up, I never will. All my contacts are in Pittsburgh, so I came back to see if anyone had heard anything about him. And I will find Darabond one day. You can mark it down. But when that day arrives, I will have to leave Pittsburgh at once,” I explained.
I could feel Mike’s eyes burning holes in me, inspecting me, which I probably should have expected from someone with detective skills. We made quick eye contact, and he turned away shyly.
In a higher pitch, he said, “I’m a sucker for a good love story, so I’m really pulling for you. If there’s anything I can do to make that happen, just let me know. I want to step back from everything, but that’s a worthwhile cause.” He took a deep breath. “And this might sound forward, but it’s meant to be a compliment. You look so much like my girl that it is kind of spooky.”
I asked, “How old is she?”
“Twenty.”
I assumed I was blushing from the fiery feeling right under my cheeks. “Then I’ll definitely take it as a compliment.”
The conversation reminded me that I’d used magic. Magic made me age. What did I look like right now? I would guess I hadn’t aged much if I was comparable to a twenty-year-old. My body felt a little sore, but nothing out of the ordinary. Goibniu’s potion had restored my defiance of Father Time. But how long would it last?
“I’m still surprised that you would walk away from your duties. Where did you learn magic?” I pressed him.
Mike’s brow furrowed, and I could tell he was gauging how much to tell me. “I have a mentor named Alayna. Maybe you know her.”
Oh, I knew her all right. I hated her but remained civil when we saw each other. She used to be Queen Al from Sleepy Willow. The bitch put a curse on the land to kill all the crops and prevent any from growing again. I’d watched the citizens starve to death. Their emaciated, skeletal bodies wasting away, searching endlessly for a single grain of food. The elves who raised me starved and died.
Alayna was also buddy-buddy with my mother and it made me sick. The Celtic Gods loved her—a queen who starved her own people to settle a personal grudge—but hated me for some unknown reason. Perhaps it was because I was best friends with the Morrigan.
Mike didn’t need to know about my animus. I told him, “We know each other. Did she give you the never-ending wave lesson?”
“You mean how pure magic is like a constant flowing body that runs through everyone and only a select few can ride the wave. Yeah, she might have taught me that one,” he said, and we both laughed. He added, “Looks like you can surf pretty well from your lightning display back there.”
Unfortunately, I hadn’t been born with the ability to surf that wave. I kept the spotlight on him. “What types of magic did she teach you?”
Mike raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment. “Spellcasting. Conjuring. Elemental. Natural. To be honest, there is so much more I’d like to learn about but being the protector of the city takes up all my time. I feel like I’m using the same acts over and over again. I want to study up and build up my repertoire.”
I could understand that. Not everyone had a handicap like me concerning magic. I wasn’t the chosen one born with magical abilities. Conceived by two Gods, why couldn’t I harness magic naturally?
I had to take my magic from others. And surprisingly, the pure magic had clashed with me, yet the dark magic meshed seamlessly with my soul. The Morrigan had convinced me it was natural, but it still concerned me that I had an affinity toward dark magic.
The Morrigan had imparted some knowledge to me that allowed me to sap magic from others. She hadn’t shared that secret with anyone else and had sworn me to secrecy with the explicit threat of death, as if it were necessary. Very few beings knew how to absorb all the magic from anot
her entity. Absorbing the magic of another was easy. Understanding how to use those skills was another story altogether.
I still didn’t have a full grasp of all the magic running around inside me. Sometimes, I could just envision something, and it would happen automatically. I’d also learned many spells, englyns and chants that accompanied some of the skills I’d absorbed.
Some days I could feel the pure and dark magic fighting against each other, battling for supremacy. It was out of my control at this point. Like my rage fit back at Octavius’s. Angry, dark blood had overpowered the good. If I could go back, I wouldn’t have taken the dark or black magic blood.
I said, “From the stories I’ve heard, you seem to be doing all right for yourself.”
Mike shrugged his shoulders and his eyes opened wide, contemplating my words. “I’ve done a lot of stuff that I look back on and still wonder how the hell I did it. These past few years have been such a whirlwind that it’s all one big blur. I’ve almost died a hundred times in the past year. But I’m still here. Maybe there’s a reason for it all.”
“If you figure it out, let me know,” I joked. “I’ve been trying to understand why I haven’t died yet either. Granted I’m immortal, but I could have easily died in a number of ways over the years.”
“Trust me. I believe it after what I saw back there. It’s a crazy game most of the time.” Mike had a veteran presence and talked like an old salt. Like he’d been doing this for decades, not just a few years. He knew his shit, despite his constant hinting that he was just a magical neophyte. All experts started out as neophytes. Mike had me torn on what to make of him.
I’d accomplished my mission. Mike had revealed a good bit about himself and I had given him barely any information about myself. All he really knew was my name and that I could be a force to reckon with when I was angry. After seeing Mike up close again, I couldn’t help but think Jonathan was lying about him not being a vampire.
A FEW HOURS PASSED and I heard what sounded like a ruckus in the distance. Mike jumped up and I smelled the magic emanating from him. Flowers. How dainty.
Wild growling inside the building brought me to my feet. The commotion grew louder and nearer. Within a few seconds, the barbaric yelling ceased abruptly. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, so I prepared for the worst and called on my magic.
Had the vampires come back for round two? I pressed my face against the bars but couldn’t see anything outside the cell. Mike turned to me and we both shrugged our shoulders and waited in awkward silence.
I smelled something overpowering Mike’s fresh scent. What was it? The fruity aroma intensified by the second. Orange blossoms. No. It couldn’t be.
The outline of a large figure appeared in front of the cell. As my eyes adjusted, a golden ring mail jacket gleamed in the dull light. Tyr stood in front of the cell. My hero. My savior. Standing there in all his manly magnificence.
I heaved out a sigh of relief and joked, “You’re late for the meeting.”
Tyr’s smile gleamed in the gloomy atmosphere. “I’ve always said, better late than never. I could leave if you wish.” He gestured with his thumb and looked over his shoulder.
I smirked at him. “Since you’re here, you might as well let me out.” With Tyr’s presence grabbing my attention, I’d almost forgotten that Mike was standing next to me. Too bad nobody showed up to rescue him.
Tyr stared at the lock on the cell, trying to break the protection ward. A few moments later, he nodded and inserted the key. He turned his wrist and the clicking sound was music to my ears. He pulled the gate open and extended a powerful hand covered by a white glove.
I grabbed it and exited the nasty cell. Tyr pointed at Mike, and said, “What about this guy?”
I answered, “Don’t worry about Peach Fuzz. We can leave him here.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You aren’t going to let me out?” he asked, moving closer to the door.
“Nope. You’ll figure out a way to get out of here. You’re a smart guy. I believe in you,” I told him.
Tyr slammed the door and Mike took two steps closer and smashed his fist against it. Peach Fuzz grabbed ahold of the gate and shook it as he screamed like a maniac, totally ruining my joke. I planned to let him out, and we hadn’t relocked the cell. I just wanted to see him sweat a little and he’d ruined all the fun.
I said, “Stop it. Let him out and let’s get the hell out of here before the wolves figure out you are here.” It hadn’t exactly been a silent escape.
Tyr squinted and his face contorted in confusion. Nobody seemed to get my jokes. He opened the cell door again. “Don’t worry about the wolves. I set a wolfsbane spell that will have them knocked out for the next hour. But if anyone shows up who wasn’t here, we’ll be in for a fight.”
Mike jumped out of the cell with a grin on his face. As I looked around, I realized we were in an off building, not the main house. I stared at a long row of empty jail cells.
I noticed two guards in human form sprawled out on the dirt floor in front of two other cells. A door at the end of the room was beckoning us, promising that safety lay right on the other side of that rectangular piece of wood. I hopped over the wolves and followed Tyr to the door.
He turned the knob and booted open our exit. As I walked through the jamb, I realized this jail was in their backyard, about twenty yards from the main house. More wolves in human form were lying on the ground, totally incapacitated.
I peered over my shoulder and screamed. From behind, Tyr wrapped his powerful arms around me, making me feel safe. Turning again, I counted seven vampires hanging from several oak tree branches. Each vampire had multiple wooden stakes jammed into their chests.
Even from a distance, the starry night provided just enough of a gleam that I could see the blood trickling from the tips of their shoes or boots. Drop by bloody drop, the thick liquid of life fell to the ground, staining Mother Nature’s creation. Each vampire’s face had been mangled beyond recognition. With that said, the wolves probably weren’t done desecrating the bodies.
What on earth was Jonathan thinking? Attacking the wolves on their home turf? It was an outright declaration of war. And it didn’t look like it had gone well. I had to be careful around him.
My knight in shining armor put his hand on the small of my back and gently guided me down a little hill. We passed the house on our right and ran toward a small parking lot of vehicles. Tyr moved ahead of me and headed toward a bright yellow race car. Considering I’d lost my keys, it appeared my Jeep was staying here.
As we got closer to his car, I realized it was a McLaren GT replete with special side panels and a spoiler to counter wind resistance. Tyr lifted the passenger door that opened upward, like a Ferrari or a DeLorean. Like a true gentleman, Tyr helped me into the passenger seat and shut the door behind me.
He walked around to the driver’s side and said, “Sorry, Peach Fuzz. I only brought the two-seater. Good luck getting out of here.”
Mike barely had time to react before Tyr hopped in, started the engine and gave it some gas, releasing the pent-up purr of a thousand angry bobcats. He straightened the car out and got it onto the winding driveway. Tyr flashed the peace sign to Mike, and we were off.
When we hit the final straightaway of the driveway, the engine roared, tires screeched, and my head snapped back, hitting the soft headrest. As Tyr sped out onto the road, I stared at the dashboard that resembled a plane’s cockpit. I agreed to go back to his place because I expected the wolves would be on the prowl for me and I didn’t want to end up like the vampires.
Just when I’d started to doubt whether I could trust Tyr, he’d busted in like a knight in shining armor, ready to slay the dragon. I knew it was silly to think he had set me up. But one never knew whom to trust in this business.
We ended up in Mount Washington, overlooking the entire city, a little while later. We cruised up a steep street, the wide race car tires hugging the road and releasing the slighte
st hint of a squeal. Tyr pulled into the driveway of a big snow-covered house and pressed a button on the dash.
The garage door opened, and Tyr pulled the McLaren into the hold. The four-car garage housed three other outrageously expensive vehicles. I got out and an overpowering scent of pine tree air freshener attacked my nose.
Tyr stepped out and his fresh cologne counterbalanced the smell and caused me to smile. He took off his golden ring mail jacket and hung it up on the wall. He proceeded to remove a few more pieces of his white-enameled armor and set them on a desk against the wall.
Tyr kicked off his tan battle boots and guided me through a door in the garage. We entered a finished basement that featured a game room with pool tables, arcade games and something that looked like a flight simulator.
A screechy female voice sounded from upstairs. “Where’d ya go?” Tyr had warned me that his girlfriend would be here, but I hadn’t expected her to sound like that.
It was annoying, but a familiar tone that I couldn’t quite place. Tyr didn’t answer as he stomped up the steps. He opened the door, and we entered his kitchen. A young lady with curly black hair and bright red lipstick ran up and wrapped her arms around him. She planted two soft kisses on his perfect lips and gave him a playful slap on his right cheek.
The woman was about my height, although she was in heels. She appeared dressed for the club in a short red leather mini-skirt, a matching suede off shoulder, crop top and flashy jewelry on her wrists and neck. Her pale skin glowed like powerful moonlight, guiding a weary traveler on the darkest of nights. She didn’t seem supernatural, but her cloying perfume could be hiding her magic scent and her radiant aura made me wonder.
Taken aback by my grimy appearance, she turned to Tyr. “Yah supposed to tell me when yah goin’ out, silly. And whom is this?” she spoke with a heavy Long Island accent, gesturing toward me with wide eyes and a quick tip of the forehead.
