by A M Boone
“You’re not going to give me a nightcap first?”
Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed again. “Fine. One drink, we’re going, and you never talk to me or Joanna again.” He left the room.
“Who’s Joanna?” I asked.
“His wife.”
“Where is she?”
“In Draisau, most likely.” He shrugged. “A bit of a primer. Mages are the Republican fundamentalists of the supernatural world.”
Yuh-ikes.
“Women in the kitchen, gay people in the closet or in an asylum, you know the type. I try not to go to Draisau.”
Fair enough. He’d been in a relationship with a man for god only knew how many years…
“It’s strange. You’d think they’d know better. To a Mother of Light cultist it doesn’t matter if you worship some ‘creator,’ if you’re not one hundred percent human, you die.”
“And other supernaturals are more liberal?”
“Yes.”
“How’s it like in your world? Thor? Thrill?”
“Thoiriele. The seventh kingdom of the Demonic Realms, home of the cubi. It’s lovely.” He smiled at me, and for the first time in a while, it seemed genuine. “I’ll take you there someday.”
“Is it fiery?”
“Not all of the Demonic Realms are fiery, Miss Delacroix. I’ll have you know there’s very little fire there.” And his smile faded to a smirk.
I sighed.
Oliver came back in with two glasses of dark brown alcohol. Rude.
Well, Vincent said they were the crazy-ass fundies of the supernatural world, so…
He thrust the glass towards Vincent, trembling. Heh. Five bucks said he wanted to toss it in his face.
“You didn’t get one for Miss Delacroix?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Once again, yikes.
Vincent’s shoulders slumped and he downed his shot glass. “Is this from Dzramave?”
“Yes.” He downed his as well.
“I had the feeling. All right. Let’s go and get this over with.” Vincent gently placed his glass on the table, then stretched out.
* * *
The three of us went back to Vincent’s car, and he drove north into the surrounding woodlands.
Where the hell were we going? I tracked our movements on my phone’s GPS, but after about an hour, it stopped working. Magic.
We turned off onto a dirt road, the only light Vincent’s headlights.
Should I have prepared some spells? Gloria said I had the magical potential of a wet rag, but I could do a little bit. I needed to be useful, or he’d most likely just eat my soul for dinner.
“Go left at the crossroads, and we’ll be at The Sanctum in fifteen minutes,” Oliver said.
“All right.”
I stared out the window, but there was nothing but darkness and trees. Not even anything spooky or magical lurking outside. Boring.
“They still might not let you in,” Oliver said. “I haven’t been to The Sanctum in years, not since—”
“We know.”
Well, I didn’t. Vincent and Oliver seemed to barely tolerate one another. I’d have to ask more about him once we finished the collection.
Fifteen minutes later, Vincent parked, and we got out of the car. I shivered. Where the hell even were we? An icy wind swirled around us, and leaves crunched under our feet. This was literally the middle of nowhere. Nothing around for miles except trees, dirt, and possibly magic.
But the night sky… So many stars. I’d never seen that many stars before. LA was smoggy, so we never got to see them, and San Leandro wasn’t much better, but… Wow. Something about the sight made me feel small, but in a good way.
But if I died up here… No one would find me. Ever.
Vincent popped his trunk and smeared some of his blood on his briefcase scanner. “I have a gift for you, Miss Delacroix.”
“Oh?”
“Since you have the magical potential of a handmade soap dish, I had this made for you.” He rummaged around for a bit and pulled out a gun.
I swallowed. This was only going to end badly.
“This was personally created for you by a good friend of mine. It’ll never run out of ammo, and if you push the button on the underside, well… I’ll let you see for yourself.”
It looked like a basic handgun, but as soon as I touched it, a shock of magic went up my arm. It was light in my hand, and pulsed with its own energy.
I tapped the button on the underside, and it glowed faintly before turning into a bracelet on my right wrist.
“Wow.”
“Keep that on you at all times. As I said before, I’m not without enemies. Got it?” Vincent slammed the trunk shut and we were left in pitch blackness.
“Got it.”
Granted, I’d probably be expelled, if not tossed in jail, if I was caught with it on campus, but…
I turned on my cellphone’s light, but Oliver glared at me.
“This is a place of sanctuary. Put that thing away, it might blow up.”
I turned it back off, and stuck it in my bag. Blow up? Why?
“All the ambient magical energy,” Vincent said, shrugging. He snapped his fingers and his left hand burst into flames. “If you really can’t see…”
Oliver summoned a staff made of light blue crystals, sighing. “Let just get this over with.”
“As long as Mr. Rutherford cooperates, this’ll be a quick and easy job.”
But was it ever quick and easy? Vincent said Elery’s collection would be quick and easy, and that ended with her in his gullet. I swallowed, and Vincent glanced at me.
We walked—more like stumbled, for me—down a rocky dirty path for a few minutes—
I smacked directly into a brick wall. Not literally, of course, but a force stopped me in my tracks, and no matter how much I pushed and shoved, I couldn’t get past it.
“Why do you come here?” a voice boomed, and I clapped my hands over my ears.
Oliver stepped forward and threw out his hands. “My name is Oliver Li, patriarch of the Li family of mages! I wish to gain entry into The Sanctum.”
Something grazed over my body. Some sort of magical scanner? Maybe Vincent doing something—no. He shivered as well, then set his jaw.
“Who is with you?”
“Vincent Aldana, a cubi and an… associate of mine, and his assistant, Eliana Delacroix, a witch.”
Silence.
I shuffled in place. Oliver said they might not let us in…
But the magical brick wall left us, and Oliver walked forward. We followed behind him, and—
Dear lord. We stepped into a bustling hub, with thousands of mages milling around and rushing to and fro. The ground turned to shimmering concrete, and tightly packed buildings spiraled off into a starry sky. So, this was the Sanctum. A home for mages in the human world.
Mages pushed by us, dressed in identical black robes, and even though they differed in body type and skin color, something about the way they moved… It was too cookie-cutter.
“All right,” Oliver said. “Let’s get this over with. Do you know where Neil is?”
Vincent pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “According to my source, he’s in The Sanctum’s charity hostel.”
Oh, he’d definitely lost the money. This was only going to end badly.
“Okay, fine. I’ll take you there.”
Eyes were on my back the entire walk down the main street. Was it because I wasn’t a mage? Because I was with Vincent? No one had said anything so far, but they probably wanted to.
The Sanctum’s charity hostel was a three story high building made of glimmering bright blue bricks. The three of us went inside, and the mages sitting around went silent. Yep. Definitely being judged. Mages were the type where they didn’t have to say a word to make you feel like a bug.
Oliver went up to the front desk and chattered away to the worker in the mage language. The worker said something back.
/> He turned back to us. “He’s in Room 215.”
“You heard the man, Miss Delacroix. Let’s go collect.”
“Right.” I tugged at my shirt’s hem.
We went up a rickety flight of stairs that groaned under our weight, then down a dimly lit hallway. Room 215 was at the very end.
Vincent sighed, then knocked. “Mr. Rutherford, you know who this is. We can renegotiate our terms as long as you let me in.”
No response.
“Maybe he’s not here?” I said.
“He better be. I swear on the memories of my grandfather, if he fled because he lost all my money, I’ll…”
“How much does he owe?”
“About a hundred thousand dollars.”
I choked on my own spit and started coughing. One hundred thousand dollars? That was more than Johanna Winston cost for a year! That was more than my parents made in a year! But to Vincent, that was a drop in the bucket.
Vincent cop-knocked this time. “Mr. Rutherford… Come out and we can discuss this like civilized people.”
The door’s lock clicked, and he opened it.
“Good evening, Mr. Rutherford,” Vincent said, grinning. “It’s been four years, it’s time for you to pay me back. Answer this question truthfully. Do you have it, or not?”
Neil was probably only a couple of years younger than me, with messy blond hair and dark purple eyes. But he didn’t say anything, just mindlessly staring off into the distance and sitting on the bed. Ugh. I’d seen that look before in too many people during my practicum. The thousand-yard stare.
Vincent took a few steps towards him and waved his hand in front of his face. “Well.”
“Is he okay?” I asked.
Vincent glanced around the room. “Strange…”
Something wasn’t right here. If Neil was the only person here, then who unlocked the door? Was he faking?
Weird, arcane symbols were scrawled on the walls, and calling the place messy would be an understatement. The carpet was slightly moist, yet crunched under my feet, and a strange smell—something between piss and perfume—filled the room.
“Oliver. Cast an examination spell on him.”
“This wasn’t part of the deal,” he said, giving him an unimpressed look. “I got you into The Sanctum, and—”
“I should have let you die ten years ago. Just do it.”
“Fine.” He re-summoned his staff and murmured something under his breath. Bright blue magic burst from his staff and swirled around Neil. The hair on my arms stood up. Yeah. Something definitely wasn’t right here. A trap? Or something more sinister?
I turned to Vincent and said, “I have a bad feeling about this.”
Oliver shrugged. “I don’t sense anything wrong with him.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“So, he’s faking then. Acting catatonic so we’ll take pity on him. Pathetic.” He grabbed him by his collar and shook him. “Where’s my money?”
Still no response. Vincent let him go, and he collapsed to the floor in a heap.
“I don’t think he’s faking,” I said quietly.
“Then what do you think is wrong with him, Miss Delacroix?”
Okay, fair. I couldn’t answer that question, but…
Wait. If he was faking, I should be able to—
“Can I try something?” I asked.
“Knock yourself out.”
I’d learned about this on the internet, and I wasn’t quite so sure how true it was, but when you were dealing with magic, you needed to use whatever you could.
I picked up his left hand and dropped it onto his face. It smacked him lightly and hit the floor.
“He’s not faking,” I said firmly.
“And pray tell, how do you know that?”
“When someone’s faking being unconscious, if you drop their hand onto their face, they’ll move it out of the way.”
“Clever. Where’d you pick that up?”
“Internet.”
“So we have a catatonic mage, strange sigils on the walls, and a hoarder’s paradise for a room. Something happened here, and frankly? I don’t want to know.” Vincent ran his fingers through his hair. “Great. I’ll have to write this off somehow—”
Neil seized on the floor, bloody foam spewing from his mouth and nose. Dark red, nearly black, blood dripped from his eyes and ears while he shrieked.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.
Vincent swore and pushed me to the side. “Stay away from him!”
Neil stood up, his movements jerky and unnatural. The light left his eyes, and he stared at us as if we were aliens. Black sludge drooled from his mouth and pooled on the floor as he slurred discordant whispers. What the actual fuck—
Vincent clapped his hands over his ears. “Stop it…”
“Vincent?”
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” he screamed. His eyes burned with magic, and tendrils of dark energy burst from his body. His hair moved on its own, and something about his presence became overbearing. Other voices crept into his as he screamed.
I took another step back. Whatever the hell was happening here, I didn’t need or want any part of it.
What did I do? I fumbled with the bracelet and pushed the button on the underside. The gun materialized in my hand, and I aimed at Neil’s head, trembling. Granted, I didn’t have any practice at all, but it couldn’t be that hard, right? I had to save the man who saved my life.
Could I really do this? Take a life? My heart pounded in my ears, and my palms grew sweaty.
Oliver gave me a horrified look and stumbled back. “Are you really going to do this?”
“He’s hurting Vincent!” I cried.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the trigger. The recoil reverberated throughout my entire body, and nearly knocked me to the floor, and the sound of the shot made my ears ring.
But it stopped. Everything stopped. A quiet thump echoed throughout the room.
Oh, my god. I’d done it. I’d killed someone—another living being. I was just as bad as Vincent, if not worse. Neil didn’t do anything to deserve this. Whatever the hell happened to him was probably an accident, or…
I couldn’t breathe.
I finally opened my eyes. Neil was bleeding from a wound to his left shoulder. Had I really missed that badly? But he was still alive, shuddering on the floor and taking shallow breaths. Thank god.
Vincent took a few deep breaths, still doubled over. “D-didn’t think you had it in you, Miss Delacroix.”
“What the hell was wrong with him?” I choked out. “You need to explain.”
Bile crept up my throat, and it took every last bit of my self-control to not vomit.
“It’s not important.” His voice grew stronger with every word. “Let’s go collect.”
My heart finally slowed, and I could hear normally again.
Vincent rolled Neil onto his back and stared down at him. “Good evening, Mr. Rutherford. You know why I’m here.”
He opened his eyes. The light was back, and they sparkled in the dim glow of the lamp sitting on his desk. “Fuck me. Has it been two years already? Great. Just great.”
“It’s been four. Do you have my money? Also, why, pray tell, were you messing around with summoning and blood magic?”
Blood magic. You had got to be kidding me. That was something from a video game.
“I don’t have it,” he said, coughing wetly.
“Figured as much. What’d you do with it? Waste it getting boozed up and fucking whores?”
“No. Business went under a year ago.”
“So… why didn’t you get in contact with me instead of lying and hiding in The Sanctum? We could have made another deal.”
His eyes flickered towards me. “Who’s the girl?”
Girl? Oh, fuck off. I was a grown woman.
“None of your business. Well, I suppose I have to collect somehow.” He snatched off Neil’s necklace and rings
. “This should make up for it. Mage gold goes for a pretty penny in Cagraonia.”
“Cagraonia?”
“The second kingdom of the Demonic Realms, home of the Destroyers. I’ll go there and pawn it off tomorrow.” He pocketed Neil’s jewelry. “A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Rutherford.”
My stomach finally settled a bit, and I gave Vincent a pointed look, pushing the button on the underside of the gun. “Are we really not going to discuss what just happened?”
Oliver and I were fine, but whatever magic Neil did nearly killed Vincent.
“As I said before, it’s not important.” He nudged Neil with his shoe, and he groaned in pain. “I should have you finish him off, but it’s better for him to think about what he’s done, in my opinion.”
I just shrugged and took a step back so I wouldn’t get my shoes covered in blood. I had to compartmentalize, or I’d scream forever.
Oliver swallowed, his face pale. “I’m leaving. Never talk to me or Joanna again.”
“I’m a man of my word, Oliver. This will be the last time you see me. Your debt’s been repaid. Have a nice rest of your life, and tell Joanna and Bernard I said hello.”
He pursed his lips. Ten bucks said he wanted to punch Vincent’s lights out.
But he merely turned on his heel and left.
“By the way, Mr. Rutherford. Messing around with things bigger than you never ends well. Might want to see someone about the possession and that nasty wound you got there.”
I stayed silent. I really just shot someone. Nearly killed someone.
“Well, we’ve successfully collected. Let’s go.”
“R-right.”
I followed behind Vincent the entire way back to his car. He was still breathing heavily, and something about him was fundamentally changed, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. All the mages in The Sanctum stared at us as we left, whispering among themselves. Hopefully, we never had to collect here ever again, cause even with a mage, we’d probably be left out in the dark.
We got into his car, and he turned around and drove back towards civilization. Well, human civilization.
* * *
“So… Are we really not going to bring this up?” I asked, my voice low. “Whatever ‘blood magic’ Neil did nearly killed you.”
“If you must keep prying…” He sighed. “He was possessed.”
