Neon Spark (Dark Magic Enforcer Book 5) (19 page)

Nobody confronted us, though. We were just two forgettable faces in a sea of people, but as we got closer the crowds disappeared, the streets widened, and the tension built. There was an edge to the air, as if the city knew two foreign invaders were about to disrupt the peace, awaken a sleeping monster. Ideally, the monster would remain asleep and I could just stab her in her wicked heart and be done with the whole sordid business, but somehow I doubted it would be that easy.

As we rounded a corner we both stopped. We'd arrived at our destination and there was no doubt this was where Kimiko currently resided.

My small map hadn't shown more than a location, and certainly hadn't indicated the size of the property we were heading to. Checking I had it right, although I knew I did, I kicked myself for not investigating each address before making my search.

Whereas the other addresses had all been rather limited in size, this final destination was a huge, sprawling, walled enclave with a fine looking period property smack bang in the middle of what were very impressive landscaped gardens. At least, as far as we could tell from the limited view we got from the wrong side of the wall.

A large structure sat nestled among tightly pruned trees in traditional style, resembling clouds the way they'd been meticulously trained over many years. There were lush lawns, and I bet there were ponds and other delights. We just had to go in and take a look see.

And kill a vampire.

Going it Alone

We took our time, making a careful circuit of the property, discovering it wasn't as vast as at first we'd believed. It was wide, taking up a good portion of the street it fronted, but didn't go back that far. Maybe an acre in total, but the way it was laid out, everything sort of in miniature, fooled the eye into thinking it was grander than it actually was.

There was one gate, affording a glimpse up a sweeping drive, and the wall continued all the way around the perimeter, maybe seven feet high and not really that much of a problem to clamber over.

But what then? Just stroll up to the house and knock on the door? That would be a problem with all the goons milling about—burly Japanese patrolling the grounds, looking mean, alert for any sign of intruders. She was here, I was sure of it, and nothing would stop me getting to her.

"Well, what's the plan?" asked Dancer once we'd completed our reconnaissance and were at a safe distance while we considered out first move.

"I don't have one. You know how I work, I wing it." I wished that this time I'd had a solid idea of what to do, but I just don't work that way, never have. Any time I've actually formulated a plan for an enforcer job, events have always conspired against me, so I learned long ago to just go with the flow and things have always had a habit of working out in the end.

"Okay, so how are we going to wing this?"

"Give me a moment, I need to think." Dancer frowned, looking dubious, but left me to my thoughts while I tried to figure out how best to do what I absolutely knew I would do no matter the consequences.

It seemed like an impossible situation. The place was well guarded, had CCTV, had who knew how many vampires inside the building, and it was just me and Dancer against them all. We had to even the odds to stand the slightest chance of getting anywhere, and I really couldn't see how we were going to set about doing that.

Yes, we could go in blasting the dark arts, or I could, at least, but Dancer's skills were different to mine. Although he was clearly good in a fight, it would be in a more traditional sense, using weapons of a solid nature, not magic.

What were her people capable of? Were they just vampire goons or were there wizards and witches, those adept with magic? I was convinced it would be a mix of both, meaning we needed an army if we wanted to get in and hope to remain alive. But we were strangers here, we had none of our own people to help. It was just us. Or was it?

No sooner had I thought I'd come up with an idea than the sensible part of my mind kicked in and told me to get a grip. I'd pictured finding where the zombies had been moved to and unleashing them on the vampires, but it wasn't their fight, and anyway, the logistics of such an undertaking were beyond me. What else?

I racked my brain, trying to come up with a way to get inside and then deal with her, but the more I thought about it the more it seemed like a lost cause. I'd had more than my fill of storming vampire strongholds, and the last time it had happened I'd come close to failing, and that was with a team of strong magic users, angry trolls, and an army of the resurrected thanks to Dancer and some of his fellow necromancers.

Even then it had been a crazy tough battle. What chance did the two of us stand?

"Okay, this isn't going to work," I said with a sigh as I turned to Dancer. "Time for plan B."

"And what's plan B?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

Goddamn this woman. How was I going to get her? I had to, no way could I leave without this being finished once and for all.

My temper rose along with my frustration, the heat of the day and the overwhelming feeling of isolation making me lose my mind. With no thought for the consequences, my mind dark and clouded with an utter need for satisfaction, I turned to Dancer and said, "Wait here. Look after them, friend, and don't follow me. This is my fight now."

And with that I rather stupidly crossed the road and just walked right up to the gates.

A Rash Decision

All I knew was that I couldn't turn back, not now. I couldn't lose the momentum or this would never be finished. My eyes were as black as Dancer's greasy head of hair by the time I was at the gates, sparks flashing and hissing off my ink as my body came alive, fit to burst with barely contained energy.

Two heavyset goons stared at me blankly, trying to appear intimidating, but I knew something they didn't—I was as dangerous as a faery if you held back on the Parmesan. I could see they were new to the vampire world, keen and eager for blood. One actually licked his lips and hissed. Juvenile.

"Oh, give it a rest," I sighed, putting my hand to the gate. It melted under the force of the jolt that spasmed down my arm and out my fingertips like Midas in reverse—everything I touched turning to destruction.

They jumped back just in time as I booted the gate open wide, then they came for me. Hardly even pausing, I called the new power that lurked in my freshly painted ink and felt it activate with terrible force, mind directing magic part my own, part stolen from the Empty out the flat of my hands in two saucers of death that materialized as black hate so thick it was almost solid.

It slammed into their heads, wrapping around their faces and muffling their screams as they dropped to the ground, the corruption searing down their throats and tearing through their systems, burning away their hearts, their internal organs, giving them no chance to repair the damage.

Two down, definitely plenty more to go.

I marched forward, blasting as the security came rushing to see what the problem was.

It was me, I was the problem, and I was utterly in the zone. Uncaring, ruthless, pure revenge in magical form.

In other words, stupid.

Yes, it's a flaw, but I can't help it. If I thought too much about half the work I end up doing then I'd be a gibbering wreck, never able to function. But let my instincts take over, get in the Flow State, and I get done what needs to be done. I don't recommend it.

Again and again they came for me, yet the more magic I used the more it grew inside of me. This new magic of a giant, now mine. I felt the power flow in ways it had never done before. The new ink on my legs, and the subtle realignment of tattoos I had thought perfect, allowing more strange forces to surge through my body than I had ever even dreamed possible.

It was extremely potent, and somewhat wild and uncontrollable, which maybe was a good thing as I kept on moving, kept on blasting, and they kept on falling but with seemingly no end of reinforcements to take their place.

Many recovered almost immediately, others were down and dead for good, but I was making excellent progress, a third of the way up to the house now. I slowed my march and stepped onto the grass, clapping my hands together with a loud
crack
that unleashed a stream of pulsating, meandering death at three figures closing in fast and hard.

The earth erupted in front of them, a massive hole carved from the ground that they fell right into amid the confusion of earth and sod that was torn from the perfectly manicured grass.

As I got close, I saw the magic swirling around them, watched with dispassion as their screams were taken from gaping mouths. An entry point for the power that writhed down deep inside then erupted from between their cracking lips in a thick spray of gore that splatted the dark walls of their grave.

More came, and more died at my hands, the stunning garden with its carp pools and its perfect shrubbery turning from a thing of beauty to a pitted war zone. Maybe there were twenty of them, maybe thirty, I don't know. I was past counting, past caring. A machine of death progressing toward the house, killing anything that got in my way.

They'd all made their choice, decided to go beyond what was merely dark and unlawful. and stepped, fully aware, into a world they knew was about the worst humanity could create. I felt no sympathy, I felt nothing. I was empty.

Past pools small and large, tiny meandering gravel paths and large boulders you could admire for a lifetime, I killed and maimed, making my way to the veranda of the house.

All was quiet, just a few moans of the dying or those unable or unwilling to fight any more. I took a step, the creak of the wood breaking me from my focus. Shaking my head, I climbed up and stood on the deck, shielded from the warmth of the sun, the shade cooling my overheating body.

I was here, at the portal to my future. All I had to do was open the door, walk inside, and my fate awaited me.

You know what I did?

I turned around and I walked right out of the garden and across the street to a shocked Dancer.

"Too easy," I said, the comedown beginning to hit.

"Oh, absolutely. Looked like a breeze," he said sarcastically.

"No way was that right. Something is off, I can tell. Guess it's back to plan B after all."

"Look, Spark, we've come this far. Sure, it's bound to be something horrible and freaky, but I honestly do believe it's now or never. Come on, let's finish this."

I searched his face; he was sure. He would be by my side. I nodded and we went to face a very uncertain, possibly very short, future.

Ugh

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Dancer and I stood just inside the door to the large house, astonished.

The entire building lay exposed before us. No interior walls, all removed, the building carefully and sympathetically renovated with new beams to support the structure and the roof. It was nothing but a large expanse of black floorboards. Stark and as empty as a village after Godzilla rampaged.

Okay, almost empty. Squared in the center of the room was a massive steel box, easily forty feet to a side, maybe twelve feet high, with a single door like you see in the movies for bank vaults. I just knew it would be as secure, maybe more so.

"This woman is driving me nuts. What self-respecting vampire sleeps in a damn vault?"

"A very clever one, I would imagine," commented Dancer dryly. "Makes perfect sense. Don't know why they don't all do it."

"Neither do I," came a tired voice from hidden speakers somewhere high up in the rafters. "Welcome to my resting place, gentlemen. Do excuse me if I don't come out to say hello, I'm rather sleepy at the moment." Kimiko sounded like she was dozing off as she spoke, voice quiet, rasping as though she found it hard to talk, even to breathe. Even as I thought it, I heard the sound of deep, regular breathing. She was, she was back asleep.

"Goddamn!"

"What now?"

"Now? We wait." I sat down on the floor, crossed my legs, and let the pain overwhelm me as magic clawed its way back to the Empty. God, how I hated this woman.

The comedown hit, but I knew it would be different. I felt a tidal wave building, ready to take me down with it, crashing into agony, but it never happened. It washed right over me, leaving me exactly as I was before. Still cross-legged, still infuriated, still an addict.

With no price to pay for what I did, how could I ever hope to stop my thievery? Dancer looked down at me and nodded—he knew.

"We could blow it up," he offered.

"If we tried, if we even had the wherewithal to do it, you can bet it would destroy the house and leave her snug in her oversized coffin. It probably wouldn't even wake her up."

"Hmm, you're probably right. Reckon she's got her books in there with her?" mused Dancer. I just gave him a look. "Of course, silly question." He joined me on the floor and we sat, in silence, then heard the click as she must have woken and turned off the speaker system.

Argh, this bloody woman. She was too damn clever by half and too aware of her own weakness. Most vampires rely solely on the protection of their own kind while they rest, but she knew that was dangerous, so had taken great pains to ensure her safety while she amassed her power for the dark hours.

As we sat there, I considered whether my magic could break through the stronghold, but knew it was a lost cause. Studying the room within a room with magic-tinted vision it was clear her books were not merely to decorate her walls. There was a strong barrier in place all around the steel box, and she was smart enough to make sure that underground was just as protected as above.

Smart, sexy, strong. The only thing that went against her was that she was a cold-hearted murderer.

Shady Deals

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I found out what our friend in the box did to anger Oskari, the new vamp Head."