Neon Spark (Dark Magic Enforcer Book 5) (16 page)

That, or... I suddenly had a very bad feeling about the place, mainly because the dude behind the reception desk, staring at me then at the bank of monitors in front of him, rippled like a heat haze had descended. The vibe he gave off was about as welcoming as if you'd turned up at a dwarf's wedding with a beard trimmer as a gift for the bride.

He was vampire for sure. He studied me closely as I approached, no man of mystery for me. He could see me as clearly as I could read his orders—kill the gaijin if he shows up.

She wasn't here, I knew it immediately. If she was, and she knew I was on the loose and looking for her, no way would her resting place be so lightly guarded in this manner. She was aware of what I'd done to those at her other places, understood I was powerful to have gotten away from the fat man, so would have her residence heavily protected.

Or, was that what she wanted me to think?

Damn, I hate indecision, and I hate not knowing. Do I leave or do I deal with the goon and go check it out?

With a sigh, knowing there was no other choice, I said, "Come on, let's get it over with."

He stared at me blankly, not understanding a word, so I stepped back and did the universal "bring it on" gesture, beckoning with my hand, calling him out.

He smiled wide, fangs already dripping milky poison, itching for a fight. Guess it was usually quiet at his post, so this was a welcome break from what was obviously a less than fulfilling role within the gangster hierarchy.

I have to admit I was also keen to fight. So much frustration and anger at what had been done to me meant I was literally ready to explode—I needed a release.

This guy didn't know what he was letting himself in for.

He smiled at me again, pressed a button on his console, and a goddamn cage slammed down on me from a hidden panel in the ceiling. I was trapped.

You know what? Sometimes I think I must have missed the day when they were handing out luck and got stuck in the "poor bastard" queue.

Especially when the side doors in the lobby opened and about a score of eager vampires sauntered out, grinning as they anticipated a taste of foreign blood.

I definitely should have gone home.

You Cannot be Serious!

This was getting ridiculous. What was with the Asian vampires? Cages! I mean, c'mon. Who the hell drops cages on people? It was like something out of a damn cartoon. If I saw a box of dynamite with Acme written on the side I wouldn't have been surprised at that moment.

Having lived a long time, I've experienced many things, but in all my years I've never had to try to get out of a cage. At least I don't think I have. The goons circled closer, seemingly in no hurry, enjoying the show and letting the tension heighten so my blood would taste all the better for waiting.

But I would give them no satisfaction. I refused to let fear overwhelm me and remained calm, even adjusted my tie.

Screw them and screw their pathetic attempts to glamor me. I gave them one of my best sneers, a real lip-curler, and faced them down. I'd fought worse, come out on top against more uneven odds, and this was not my day to die. Not yet, anyway. Most of these guys and gals were noobs, I could tell by the way they practically drooled over the thought of a taste of old Faz.

They were amateurs in the vampire world, but that didn't mean they weren't experienced fighters and gangsters. That I took for granted, or they would never be part of Kimiko's close retinue of bodyguards.

All I had to do was get out of the damn cage and I knew I could deal with them.

They closed in, and then I realized I didn't even need to get out—if I was trapped then how the hell were they going to get in to eat me?

Haha, I had them right where I wanted them. Okay, not quite, but it was better than being strapped down and skinned alive. Most things are.

The one thing about vampires that always amuses me is the utter confidence they exhibit when in numbers. It's the herd mentality and it's a serious flaw. They know they are more powerful solo than any Regular, and even up against most Hidden they have a serious advantage which they can exploit to the fullest to win a fight—the whole ability to regenerate rapidly because of their blood magic—and it multiplies to a dangerous level of confidence when they band together against an enemy.

What they forget is that they are still individuals, and they are never as guarded and careful once the hive mind overwhelms them. They're convinced the group is invincible.

So when the first one came up to the bars and gave me a look I assumed he thought was suitably terrifying, I lifted my index finger in the air and waved it around like it was made of something delightful. He smiled at me and my games, following the finger as I waggled it left to right, and then screamed as I lowered it and touched the back of his hand. His arm erupted into a mess of blood and bone as my eyes turned black and sparkled like his teeth in the strong interior light.

Magic coursed through my body as if I was overflowing, and I was. It burst through my hands almost too fast to control, the new power untamed and keening for destruction. As the first vampire fell back screaming, then snarled and snapped as his arm recovered and his body rebuilt itself, I finished him off with a flick of the finger and a great, nasty lump of intense red magic burst his body to bits as though I was throwing fireballs at him.

I repeated the action, this time with more focus, and as large balls of red death slammed into the bodies of vampires, and splatted like balloons full of deadly water, the count was quickly becoming much more to my liking.

Those still alive stepped back and reassessed the situation, realizing that trapping someone strong with magic was a rather ineffectual solution. It might be perfect for other nasties and for gangsters in general, but not for this nasty.

So they got their guns out instead and started shooting. I really do hate guns, and like a repeat of a previous encounter, they hit hard, only my shield of protection keeping me even remotely safe.

"You're mine," I shouted, my voice lost to the sound of gunfire. But they got the picture as I steadied myself then took in as much of their essence with as sharp an intake of breath as I could manage.

They faltered, feeling the blood magic leaving them, coming to me. They were having a Faz Pound special and the price would be their lives. "First one to open the door gets to live. Only the first one," I warned. Whether any of them spoke English I had no idea, I guess we would see soon enough.

As they grew increasingly confused, unable to understand what was happening, certainly never having experienced anything like it before, I sucked deep again and watched as tendrils of blood magic, corrupted and nasty, were torn from their bodies and sucked into my mouth.

The icy disdain and uncaring heart of the vampire became a part of me, numbing me to what I was doing, leaving me almost as uncaring as them. I watched without emotion as they weakened, slowly returning to Regular status, most hardly changing their apparent age as they were so new to the world. But some altered dramatically, morphing from late twenty-somethings to old men and women on their last legs, their true ages revealed without the veil of the vampire to keep them forever young.

"Last chance. If you let me out you live. Otherwise..." I slit a hand across my throat, knowing they would understand that at least.

Again I sucked down deep, but released the corruption the moment I took it. Magic sped away into the Empty where it belonged, and I was pleased to note one handsome man step forward and shakily move to the console at reception. The guy there was already gone, little but a brittle skeleton now, alive but as the younger one pushed to move him he fell to dust—he must have seriously annoyed Kimiko to have been given such a low-level job at his age.

The new security guard pushed buttons frantically, unsure what did what, until there was a faint noise from above as the ceiling slid apart and the cage was hoisted into darkness by a series of thick metal chains.

Nodding at him, promising I would keep my word, he slumped into the ash-covered chair and remained motionless, out of the fight, just hoping he would be alive at the end of it.

The rest of them were freaked out, and for good reason. With a final deep exhalation to empty my lungs, I took in their essence for all I was worth. They screamed, tried to shout, tried to come at me, but I took away their magic and I kept on taking.

Flesh wore down to little more than skin covered bone and they all stopped, unable to lift a limb or say a word. One final taking of what they had no right to and it was over. Bodies broken and dead on the floor, skeletons covered in expensive suits and once figure-hugging dresses, now gone where they deserved.

Bending over, I retched up the remains of the blood magic, glad to be purged of the foulness. Still deep in the throes of the addict, I couldn't believe it when the one I'd promised to leave alive raised a gun, hand shaking. I watched as the bullet came, moving in slow motion toward me. Out of regular time, I ducked aside and blasted the dude to hell before he'd even had chance to see if I was dead or not.

All was silent, all was still, nothing moved, not even to kill.

Time to get the elevator and see what awaited me on floor nineteen.

Old Friends

"Wait!"

I turned at the sound of a familiar voice, coming to my senses in time to stop blasting Dancer out the door.

"What're you doing here?" I was genuinely surprised, and I have to say, a little pleased. It was wonderful to see a familiar face, almost like I was a human being again.

"Thought you might be getting into a little, make that a lot, of trouble on your own, so figured you could benefit from some backup." Dancer strained his face to force a smile out.

He glanced at, then ignored, the various bodies and walked over to me, wild magic still crackling across my body like a warning sign that I was unstable. I settled down, letting it go, allowing myself to be human again.

"God, it's good to see you, dude, it really is." I hugged him, clung to him, any self-consciousness lost to relief and the loneliness I hadn't even realized I'd had. What the hell was I doing running around like this, acting so foolish?

Dancer went stiff as a board, surprised and unused to the outpouring of emotion, especially from me. We don't do hugging, we do insults and getting on each other's nerves—obviously, he gets on mine the most. He patted me on the back, which was something, and I reluctantly released him.

"Hell, you are having a bad time of it, aren't you?"

"Maybe, not sure," I mumbled.

"Well, I'm here now. What can I do to help? Is she in the building?"

"I don't know. Probably not, but I was just about to go make certain. Are Kate and Grandma okay? Are you?" He looked tired, face sort of waxy, eyes too bright.

"They're fine, and I'm fine. What isn't fine is you. You look like shit, Spark. Did they really flay your skin off? When you said what happened I just knew I'd have to come out, but we need to hurry and get home. Kate's just about ready to come no matter what I say to her, and Grandma is seriously annoyed with you."

"What else could I do? Yeah, they cut my skin off. It's better now, sort of, but you didn't have to come. I'm an Alone, you know I work solo."

"Spark, there are times when everyone needs to see a friendly face."

"I'm not sure it's friendly, you do know you look like a reject from the Matrix, right?" Lame, but best I could do. I'd used the line so many times before, but I was stressed.

"I can see your stay has done nothing for your sense of humor. And I know you like to work alone. Just tell me one thing. How's that working out for you so far?"

"Oh, great. Yeah, it's a breeze. Seriously, thanks. You're a true friend." I meant it. For all my bravado, my ability to cope with whatever they threw at me—kind of—his sudden appearance helped no end. It made it real that I had a life back home. It was easy to think of it in the abstract, rather than as genuinely there waiting for me.

Dancer and I had definitely turned a corner in our relationship. We became akin to friends, but after Rikka I think it made us realize how much we were a part of each other's lives. Maybe it was the mutual loss and accompanying anger, but it brought us together, the enforcer and the necromancer—what a team of misfits!

"My pleasure. Shall we?" Dancer indicated the elevator, now at the ground floor and waiting.

"Let's. Oh, how the hell did you find me?"

Dancer tapped his nose. "Aha, I have my ways. Actually, I followed your trail of destruction after making some inquiries and finding a dead man in a house with a very nice garden. He took a little digging up but I did it, and I got a few addresses. You've been making quite an impression on the locals."

"Yeah, well, they haven't treated me kindly."

"You just be sure to get this done quick so we can go home. I've got things to do and people to talk to about my future. About our future."

He was sounding like my boss already. My guess was the Council had sent out feelers to him. He may not be strong with magic like Rikka, not even like me—he uses his in a different way—but he had other traits that made him ideal as Head. So, here I was, maybe with the possible future leader of the UK Hidden Council, about to go hunt for deadly vampires early in the morning in Tokyo.

Cosmopolitan or what!

I pressed the button on the elevator and the doors opened. I stepped in and turned to face Dancer. "You can wait here. I know this isn't your thing."

"No, I'm coming. Not just for you, Spark, but for me, too. This affects us all. This woman believes she's owed something now Rikka's gone, and I don't want her coming to the UK looking for it." Dancer stepped inside, I pressed the button to level nineteen, and the doors closed behind us.

Facing the mirror in the elevator while we rose silently, I was rather taken aback by the sight of us both. I looked like a man that had been through the wringer, no doubt, but Dancer wasn't much better, especially under the stark glare of recessed LEDs that highlighted the bags under his eyes and his hollow cheeks.