Authors: Al K. Line
"Don't worry about it."
"No, it was wrong. I should have written a note. I guess it will take a little getting used to, this whole boyfriend girlfriend thing."
"Now that sounds nice." I smiled at Kate. Orange light from the lamppost making us both jump as it clicked on. It was dusk now, and would be dark soon. Rain pattered on the car, but my heart beat faster. "Everything okay though?"
"Honestly? I don't know, Faz. I went to see Taavi, but it's like I'm drawn to him. Sometimes, just now and then, I get moments, and I feel detached, like I don't care about anyone. I hate it, Faz, it isn't me." Kate wept quietly. Each tear broke my heart a little more.
This is the price those of her kind pay. Little by little, day by day, year by year, parts of your old life slip away. But you can fight it, and Kate will. She'll stay her, as long as she fights.
"It's okay. You just need to find the balance. Don't give up on yourself, but you have to let the vampire nature out too. Same with me and my magic. Sometimes you have to let it do what it wants. You keep control but you let it have you at the same time. Does that makes sense?"
"Maybe. Sort of. No, not really." We laughed. What else could we do?
"Yeah, maybe I didn't word that very well."
"Thanks. I feel better. I just forget who I am now. Right," said Kate, all business, tears shed, back to her old self, "take me home, Faz Pound, and don't forget what Grandma said."
I took Kate home and walked her to her door. We kissed, then I got back in the car.
It wasn't until I was halfway home that it clicked what she was reminding me of.
I was very much looking forward to having the whole mess cleaned up so Kate and I could get to know each other better.
The streets were deserted. Everyone was either in the pubs or at home, moaning about the weather again, waiting for next year when there might be another few days of sunshine.
A strange urge overtook me, and I parked on a side street in the city center and got out. I was still in my shirt, no jacket, but it was warm enough. I didn't have to worry about the rain. I don't get wet. It fizzes off me. Perks of being a wizard. But I wanted to walk. So I did.
I wandered through the city center, past the steamed-up windows of pubs where the smell of beer and the sounds of people having fun assaulted my senses. I walked around the castle, lit up proudly, looking as timeless as my Grandma.
Nobody saw me sneak in. I'm the everyman, the person no one notices, not a part of the Regular world. It was nice, quiet, and it centered me. The stone and the age making me feel like a part of something bigger. It gave me strength.
I lay on the grass and blinked as the rain evaporated millimeters from my eyes. It's an experience I have never got used to.
What was I doing? Why was I lying on the grass inside a castle when all around me people were having fun and I had a super-hot sexy vampire waiting for me?
Too many loose ends, too much unfinished business, and the feeling I was missing something obvious.
I called Dancer. "Any news? How's it going with Rikka's business?"
"No, no news," said Dancer, sounding stressed. "But I don't know how he does it, Spark. Hidden are impossible. They keep calling me, bitching about each other, asking me to do this, do that, and it's driving me mad."
"Guess he does more than we imagined."
"Yeah. I heard you got Grandma back, that's a relief."
I realized I hadn't called him to tell him. "Oh, sorry. Should have said."
"Hey, it's not like we are buddies or anything. Is it?"
Was he fishing? He was. "Stranger things have happened. Anyway, just checking in. Look, if anything happens... Never mind, see you soon. Bye."
I hung up. Was I losing my nerve? If anything happens? Nothing was going to happen. I'm Black Spark, Dark Magic Enforcer. I make the things happen.
Back in the high street, I continued my wandering. I always find it amusing, walking through busy places, night or day. Seeing the world through Hidden rather than Regular eyes. If you only knew how much you are missing.
I lost count of the number of Hidden I nodded to or mumbled a greeting at. We don't say much out in places like this, as so many of us look so different to each other. I nodded at obese trolls in tracksuits, their magic making them look like that, as being eight foot and made of rock is not conducive to a few pints.
The occasional gremlin grunted and I replied in kind, disguised as usual as pigeons or dogs. There were Hidden humans too, wizards and shape shifters, witches and warlocks, all going about their business. Most of which you really don't want to know about. All of them entirely forgettable to Regulars, never recalled. Ghosts, more than anything tangible.
Then I was back at the SUV, somehow reassured that life continued. That my people, my kind, were still out and about, living life and getting on with it.
I intended to do the same.
I just had a vampire to visit and a mage to save first.
No biggie. I do stuff like this all the time.
Okay, not all the time. But I am well over a century old, so I've seen a thing or two.
A Nighttime Visit
Visiting Taavi on home turf was getting to be a habit, although I never get used to it. Whenever you go meet him, it's like walking into a cave full of dwarves and telling them gold is stupid and beards are for losers.
At the gate, I was stared at blankly—no change there—but something was going on. The goon on patrol checked with the house, then said I wasn't expected and Taavi was not available. Out, apparently. I was to go away before the dogs were let loose for some sport. I was ready to give a wisecrack about me being in a car, but thought better of it—there were a lot of human vampires along with the dogs, and a car won't save you from that if they mean business.
Fuming, and annoyed at having my time wasted, not to mention getting no closer to finding Rikka, I reversed out into the quiet lane and headed home. Going to Kate's was tempting, but something didn't sit right. I wanted life to be just a little more back to normal before I called on her with what I had firmly in mind.
So I drove home, almost salivating at the thought of more sleep. I still hadn't recovered fully from the incidents of the week before, let alone everything that had happened since Kate had first come to tell me Grandma was missing. It was taking its toll. Who knew how long I needed to recover—hopefully a long time, and with Kate by my side.
Grandma would have her witches watching her for a few nights until this was over—hopefully it wouldn't be that long—so I knew she was fine. Kate was at hers. And Dancer, well, Dancer could take care of himself. So I would get a good night's sleep, and in the morning, while the vampires slept, I would figure out what the hell they were up to.
Everything was out of whack. If Taavi called for you he would be there. I had never known him to miss an appointment, mainly because he never summons you unless it's important. He was an old man who insisted on punctuality. Precise time-keeping is relatively new to him and he is a stickler for arrangements being kept to the minute.
Sure, he could be out with that creepy Yrjo, or on any number of vampire business related issues, or maybe to feed, but why not leave a message? Unless he hadn't made the appointment.
He was probably just caught up in something nasty and forgot. Hey, we all have to let our millennia-old hair down now and then. Dismissing it as typical vampire nonsense, I put it out of my mind, and was looking forward to sitting on the sofa with my feet up and flicking through the channels.
More than looking forward to, it would be like heaven. Normal.
I don't get to do that much, be normal, so even pretending for a few hours sounded like bliss right about then.
As soon as I opened the front door I knew something was off. The aroma of rose and citrus greeted me as always, but it was tainted. I sniffed. Vampires. And in my home. Their uninvited intrusions into the homes of me and my family were becoming a habit, and it is entirely against the rules. It's like taking a bulldozer to someone's living room. You don't do it unless you want a fight.
Knowing my TV watching was on hold, I closed the door, took off my shoes as my feet were aching something terrible, and only deigned to look Yrjo in the eye once I was good and ready. Which meant a few deep breaths and resisting the urge to explode into a vision of demonic dark magic right there and then.
I squared my shoes on the little rack by the front door, smoothed down my cropped hair, tried to think about nice things, like Kate and Grandma home and safe, then looked up and across the room where vampires had invaded my personal space.
He smiled at me, about as endearingly as a goblin smiles at someone who underpays them for a job. The air felt strange, even accounting for the vampires in my open-plan ground floor.
I say strange—it was freaky as hell and I almost panicked and ran. But that would not be cool. It isn't exactly the hardcore enforcer image I have taken pains to exude over the years.
You know that feeling you get when you enter a room and just know there is an atmosphere? When you walk in and everyone kind of goes silent, not because of you, but because you have interrupted something and they are uncomfortable and the air fills with this weird vibe, telling you to get out as it will be a horrible evening and you would have more fun if you covered yourself in Marmite and let the imps have at it? It was like that, but with vampires.
So, as you can imagine, the atmosphere was so sharp I expected to be cut to ribbons if I moved too fast.
Inside the room were Yrjo VanOvermeire, a group of at least five well-appointed and much younger vampires, plus Govan, who looked, to be fair, utterly petrified and so far out of his depth I was amazed he hadn't drowned on the vampire vibes that emanated from the others.
The first thing that struck me was that magic was strong in the room. Not blood magic, learned magic.
Uh-oh.
"Where's Taavi?"
"Taavi?" said Yrjo VanOvermeire, voice sly and condescending. Kind of like how I talk to Dancer when he's being a dick. So, most of the time.
"Yeah, Oliver said..." Oliver, that goddamn square-shouldered freak. I'd been duped. Taavi hadn't asked to see me at all. It was Yrjo, and Oliver was doing business with him for some reason.
It clicked. I may be a little slow, but I'm not glacial. This was a coup. All of a sudden Taavi didn't seem quite so bad a vampire leader.
"Taavi is an old fool with no head for the modern world," spat Yrjo. I really didn't like the way he was sat on my dining chair, like he owned the place. Plus, his goons were seriously winding me up. They all looked as smug as Oliver, and the world isn't big enough for more smugness than Oliver exudes.
"That's rich coming from someone who dresses like they're in a bad vampire movie."
"Haha, they told me you were slightly witty." Damn cheek, I'm hilarious. "My garb, should I say, my costume, is entirely for Taavi's benefit. You will more likely find me in jeans and a t-shirt once this is over, Spark. This is so he thinks of me as an old man, not up on the current world. I can assure you, I am, and things are about to change around here. Drastically."
"Is that right?"
"Yes."
"You're in my home, uninvited. You've messed up my feng shui, and my air freshener isn't powerful enough to cover your stink."
The goons stirred from their relaxed poses against the furniture, all a show. They flexed their muscles, then snapped to attention, teeth bared, snarling like it would scare me. "Oh, please, do me a favor. You've said your piece, Yrjo, now why don't you go crawl back under whatever rock you squeezed out from. Before you go, you can tell me where Rikka is, and if he's still alive."
Yrjo turned to his henchmen and said, "Well, should we tell him?" They shook their heads, silent, probably because they were too stupid to talk.
"They say not to tell you. This isn't one of those situations where everything is explained before you miraculously then escape, Black Spark. This is a situation where you die, and you die not knowing what has happened, or why."
"The why is obvious. You want to take over the UK and you want Taavi gone. And Rikka too."
Yrjo shook his head. "Silly little boy. You have no clue what is happening, do you? This is just the beginning. Maybe I will let you understand. Here is your answer now." Yrjo looked past me as Oliver walked into my personal space, looking like he'd sucked all the smugness up in the world and was letting it all out in one go. He walked over to Yrjo and stood beside him.
"You are such a dick, Oliver. This isn't picking sides for sports where you're now on the best team. You're the kid nobody wants."
"Shut up, Spark. I'm with them now. I'm going places. No more being kept down by Taavi. Things are about to get interesting. Taavi is a fool, messing with things when he should be leading. Your world is about to get a wakeup call. But you won't live to see it."
"You are correct, Oliver," said Yrjo, pushing up on his chair then standing and putting a hand to Oliver's shoulder. "But neither will you. Spark, you are entirely too good at your job. I've heard all about you, Faz Pound, and it's time to say goodnight."
"What! I'm with you now, Yrjo, we are doing this together." Oliver looked around, panicked. I would have felt sorry for him, but I understood something at that moment.
"You took Rikka, didn't you, Oliver? Trying to impress your new boss, were you? How's that working out for you? And the kid, not cool. You're a lackey, cleaning up his mess. He can't even check his meals are dead afterward. Talk about an amateur."
Oliver turned, wide-eyed, to Yrjo, who smiled, waiting for him to answer my question. "Well, tell him. Did you, or did you not, disrupt everything, mess up my plans, by taking the Head of the Dark Council?"
"For you," pleaded Oliver. "Clean slate. We can rule. You asked me to."
"Rule the humans?" Yrjo spat the words like they tasted bitter. "Why would I want to rule the humans? Hidden humans rule themselves, there is order that way. He was to be taken, dealt with, and they would put someone in his place that would keep control but I would have the power. We would become something great. You failed me. Nobody fails Yrjo VanOvermeire and lives. My men acted admirably taking the fat fool, but you, Oliver, you have failed."