Evil Spark (8 page)

That didn't tie with goblin ninjas, and I couldn't believe I was even thinking it. There was no such thing, was there? I'd certainly never heard of them, but then, there is a lot of weird stuff in our world, so why not? I felt stupid. Goblin ninjas, yeah, right!

The leather squeaked as I leaned back, offering firm support to my aching body. I closed my eyes and let the technique I've mastered over decades rejuvenate me. Everything faded apart from the hum of the air con, the cool air washing over me like feathers dipped in ice. It was glorious. Quiet.

Dark magic makes you so sick you want to curl up and die, but get the balance right—just enough to permeate your mind and body to let the energy flow—then you can beat the sickness, or let it wash over you and recede, leaving behind energy that can whip away the tiredness and the pain, allow you to feel like you've had a full night's sleep. You come back to yourself a few minutes later refreshed and with a clear mind.

I gave it ten.

Another day in bed was what I needed. I'd been roused too early, like a vampire that's gone without feeding for too long, or stayed up in the daytime after centuries of strictly nocturnal action. I required just another day to get my head straight, my body back to being mine, and for the effects of my last enforcer job to be washed away, leaving me whole and ready to face our world again.

Ten minutes of deep immersion in dark magic would have to do. And it did.

"Okay, let's go see the gnomes then. First, how are the kids, Intus? And Illus, is the wife well?" I thought a little normal conversation would help me remain calm. I was wrong.

There was silence, and it got uncomfortable. Kate stared at me. I shrugged. Intus tried to make me burst into flames with his eyes. Well, not quite, as if he had been trying then I would have. "What? I only asked."

"What makes you think I have a wife? That's sexist that is. You'd think in this day and age we'd be beyond such gender stereotypes. I don't go around accusing Kate of being a woman and you of being whatever you are. I've got rights. I'll have you know that I'm a modern imp and such lazy thinking on your part, Spark, is what gives us a bad name. I am more than male or female, and I take it as a personal insult..."

I turned up the air con.

It helped to drown out Intus' rants about the fact imps had always been above any form of gender bias, and didn't even have words in their own language for male or female as they were so highly evolved as a species.

I almost interrupted and asked why, if they were so evolved, they spent such a ridiculous amount of time moving tiny pieces of Lego just so parents would stand on them in the night. And why they insisted on weakening the stitching on overweight people's jeans right in the crotch so they would split the next time they were in public.

Not to mention their obsession with putting gloves everywhere you looked all through the summer, but as soon as it was winter you couldn't find them as imps had hidden them. They found that one especially hilarious, but I was strung out and I couldn't be bothered.

I'd just get a cheeky answer, as Intus is great at comebacks. They spend centuries memorizing long lists of them for every possible scenario, apparently. Intus once told me it's great fun, but to me it sounds like hell. I imagine whiling away a few centuries on such things doesn't mean the same to them as they are immortal. Anything to pass the time, I guess.

Luckily, a few minutes later Dancer arrived, looking weird. He seemed to embody efficiency. He was in control. I'd never seen that side of him before. He didn't look quite as slappable, which was disconcerting. I'd always wanted to slap him when I saw him up until that point.

"How's the finger?" I asked as he slid onto the backseat.

He waggled his pinkie in front of me. It was all there, if a little raw still. "Fully grown, which is something," he said, the familiar scowl I'd come to hate back.

"Good. And sorry." He looked at me odd. "What?"

"Nothing."

I'd blasted him the previous week, just a bit of playful magic between non-friends, and he hadn't been too happy about it.

I pulled out, and tried to block Intus' monologue about sexual equality and the rights of imps to wear leather dungarees—like every single one of them has since the beginning of their immortal lives—and how that shouldn't be used to judge them.

Checking on my passenger, I glanced in the rearview mirror. Dancer had his fingers in his ears. I didn't blame him.

Don't Say It!

"...waving it around and saying, look, I'm a male imp. We're beyond that. We've grown as imps," Intus continued to lecture, wagging a finger at first one person, then another, then the world in general. "If my husband caught you..." Intus slapped a hand over her permanently wide and mischievous mouth in shock.

"Haha. Gotcha." Sorry I didn't mention this earlier, dramatic effect and all.

Intus panicked. "What? No, wait! Slip of the forked tongue. Just because I said my husband doesn't mean that I'm a female imp. We could be husband and husband. That's sexist that is. That's homophobic. Anyone can get married these days. There are rules about such things. Why, we could have adopted."

"What, all twenty-six kids? I remember a week ago you popped up and had six in one afternoon."

"Yeah, well, I explained that. It's because our time is different to yours. I'm a true Hidden, Spark. I live in the Hidden, the proper Hidden. With other imps and we—"

"But you are a woman, aren't you? A female, anyway."

"Yes," Intus admitted, shoulders slumped forward, head bowed. Defeated.

"I think that's sweet," said Kate. "We both thought you were the one, you know, with your bum up in the air last week, going for it on—"

"Stop, Kate! I don't want to think about that." I'd tried hard to forget the incident and now she'd planted it right back in my mind. Ugh.

"Whatever," said Intus, waving it away. She wasn't happy, but it was kind of nice to know, finally. I'd been convinced it was a he—it would take some getting used to.

"Okay, where to now, Mrs. Intus?" I asked with a wicked grin—come on, if you can't wind up an imp when your world is falling apart around you when can you? I needed a distraction, okay?

"If you say that one more time, I'll—"

"Haha. Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I won't say it to you ever again. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die." Oh, shit.

The car emptied of all sound, like it wasn't even a concept. The air froze, time ceased to have meaning, and Intus and I stared at each other in absolute horror. Dancer leaned forward between the seats, staring at me in utter shock, then leaned back quick and put his hands over his eyes. He thought about it for a moment, and then lay down on the back seat and whimpered, "Tell her I'm not here. I don't like them. Their ears. God, those lovely ears. They are too much. It isn't natural. I can't bear it. Is she here yet?"

"No, not yet," I groaned.

Kate looked at me, peered at the hiding Dancer, then down at Intus quizzically, taking a moment to feel the change in the atmosphere, in everything.

"Tell me you didn't just say that, Spark." For the first time in my life, Intus actually looked genuinely sorry for me. I know I looked sorry for me, and it's no surprise.

"What's going on?" asked Kate, totally confused.

"He said the words. Idiot."

"Ugh." I felt sicker than after the two day fight with that French rogue vampire biker gang, and wished I could close my eyes, but thought crashing wasn't a good idea either. Although... I pulled over into a lay-by and waited. Mine and Intus' eyes locked, both knowing what was to come.

"What? What's happening?" asked Kate.

"Sign here, please," said the faery, waggling a piece of paper smaller than my intelligence in front of me, the other tiny, perfect hand pushing out a feather quill, dripping ink on the leather upholstery.

Gold and silver faery dust sprinkled over my legs and I was so freaked I didn't even try to dab my finger in it and lick it. I glimpsed a perfect ear lobe as she turned her head a little to the side, felt the arousal, but even that was no match for the terror inside of me.

"It was an accident. I didn't mean it. It was someone else. Er, you just missed them," I said, panicked.

"Liar. Don't you lie to me, Faz Pound. I've got your number. Doesn't matter if it was an accident, does it. You said it, now you got to sign. It's the Law."

Sometimes I hate the Law. Fae are sticklers for it, and it's always them that pop up to ensure the rules of our Hidden world are obeyed.

They are beautiful beyond compare, curvy and sexy, with earlobes to die for. But they are also terrifying, have an awful effect on those not used to them, and can wipe you from the collective memory faster than you can say, "Hey, hang on, I didn't mean to pull your wing off."

"I feel sick. I think I'm going to throw up. Ugh, what's happening?" Kate had gone green, and she clawed at the door handle in a panic, got it to open, finally, then leaned out and was seriously ill.

"Now look what you've done," accused Intus.

The faery turned to her and scowled. "Hello, Intus, how are the children?"

"Fine, thanks. Um, do I know you?"

"No, you don't," said the faery, "but we are keeping an eye on you. We lost some socks."

Intus suddenly found her fingerclaws of the utmost interest. "Oh."

"Hmm."

Intus remained silent. Not even a smile. You know it's bad when she doesn't crack a joke, or get up to mischief for more than a few seconds.

"Come on, I haven't got all day." The faery flew about in front of us, sprinkling impossibly priceless dust all over the dashboard. All I could think was how had I been so stupid.

"Fine, but isn't there a way out of this? Can't we come to some kind of agreement? I know a nice Italian restaurant not far from here. It's on me." They love all things pasta, so it was worth a shot.

The faery got up close to my face, so close I was really concerned for my eyes. Their wings are like razors, but made of pretty colors, and they can slice you into bits better than a dwarf testing out a new Sword of Destruction. "Are you trying to bribe a faery? You know that's a serious offense, don't you?"

"No, of course not," I protested, holding my hands up, as much to get her to move back as to explain myself. "Fine," I sighed, "hand it over." She gave me the quill and I signed on the dotted line.

"Thank you very much. Be seeing you. Maybe soon."

"Ugh."

She was gone, and she took her dust with her.

Kate grabbed a tissue from her pocket and wiped her mouth. I opened the compartment between the seats and gave her a pack of wet-wipes. Rikka always keeps his cars stocked with such things—our world means they are always useful. Sometimes too often. She took it and wiped her mouth. I gulped as I saw angry canines—you know you have it bad when you find them sexy.

"What the hell was all that? Was that a faery, like the one you saw last week, Faz?"

"It was. And that's why you were sick. It'll pass in a moment. They have that effect on you for a good few times. Pretty though, right?"

"Ugh, I couldn't really see, I felt so ill. What did she want? What were you signing?"

"My life away."

"Huh? Just because you said, cross my heart and—"

"No!"

"No!"

"No," came Dancers whimper from the backseat.

We all screamed at the same time, shocking Kate into silence. "Kate, of all the stupid things I have done in my life, and there are a lot, that was the stupidest. I know you are new to the Hidden world, but you should have been told this. Taavi should have ensured you know the rules, the Law. You do not, ever, never ever, make that promise to a true Hidden, like I just did."

"Why? What's so bad about saying cross my—"

"Stop, right now," I warned.

"He's right, Kate, don't ever say it. Spark here has done something very foolish, and even though he made the promise to me, I can't take it back for him, or let him off. It's the fae that are in charge of this sort of thing, nosy sods that they are." Intus looked around nervously, just in case she returned, then squinted to me. "You blew it, Spark. I would say it serves you right, but we're friends. You gonna be okay?"

"I guess." I was shellshocked. How could I have said something so dangerous? It was the stress, I knew it. Too much had happened too quickly and I wasn't myself.

"Look, you lot, will someone please explain what is happening? Was that really a faery? Wow!"

"Yes, and pray you don't meet many more. They come when there is trouble, or to punish you." I thought about how best to explain what had happened. "Okay, you do not say what I said to a Hidden, a true Hidden. Purely magical creatures like Intus. It's a solemn promise and it's backed up by the fae. It's the Law. If I break my promise, call Intus, you-know-what, and I mean ever, then she'll be back."

"And what, tell you off?" laughed Kate, amused now she was over her sickness.

"No, Kate. She will click her fingers and I will be gone. Dead."

"Haha, shut up."

Dancer had recovered by now and was leaning between the seats, breath of death clouding my mind further. We looked at her, waiting for the penny to drop. "You're all serious?"

"You don't mess with fae, Kate," said Intus. Boy, she was going to have to steal a huge number of socks to get her mischievous nature back. She'd been serious for way too long.

All I could do was nod.

"You are, you're serious."

"Deadly. Be warned, Kate. I ballsed up big time. Never say it. Ever. Now I have to remember never to say that to Intus again or it's curtains." I sliced a finger across my throat. Visions of a sexy as hell faery, with magic earlobes you just want to lick, swishing a sword in front of me crowded my mind. If she clicked her fingers I would be gone. Dead. Vanished for breaking a promise to a true Hidden.

"Never make a promise to a Hidden, ever. That way you can't break it. Okay?"

Kate knew I was serious. "Okay," she agreed. "Wow."

"Intus, which way?" I started up the car. Intus jumped down Kate's top, and I watched with envy as I saw her blouse wiggling about. The mischievous imp popped her head back up and winked.