Evil Spark (14 page)

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Authors: Al K. Line

BOOK: Evil Spark
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Then it hit me and I slammed my foot on the brake, almost getting crumpled by the car behind as the driver worked on the horn and started with the obscenities. I apologized like a good citizen, did a quick u-turn, and headed out of the center once more.

See, this is why I work on my own, as an Alone. If it had just been me I'm sure I would have spotted it right there and then.

Schrödinger's cat. Alive and not alive. Stanley had told me and Kate he could say no more as that would effect what happened in the future, changing the outcome. Did I mention I hate seers? Ugh.

The clouds had won, and although warm there was no sign of a clear sky any time soon as I pulled up in Stanley's street and turned off the headlights. It was early, just gone four, the streets as vacant as a Troll's ambition. Nobody leaving for work, or walking the dog.

Nostalgia hit, making me feel kind of sad that there wouldn't be a milkman whistling as he drove his milk float. No chinking of glass as he delivered bottles of milk to every household. It felt—and still does—like just a few years ago that such morning rituals were commonplace. Now nobody even has a paper delivered—the world is either virtual or contained in large out-of-town stores where nobody knows your name. Signs of progress I suppose.

Streetlights cast their orange glow on cars. Now and then I heard a blackbird chatter angrily at the lack of fine weather, before returning to silence, probably huddling down for a few more hours. I undid my seatbelt and wiggled in the leather seat to get comfortable. Snug, yet feeling lost inside, I let the Empty consume me.

I have learned, and forgotten, a lot of magic over the years. Although my specialty is certainly as an enforcer, and sucking the magic right out of miscreants, I am, for want of a better word, a proper wizard. If I was so inclined I could chant incantations, use voice to summon spells and creatures, or any number of more traditional ways to harness the Empty. But you get past that, realize it's just a way to focus what is inside you.

So I kept quiet, running not even an inner monologue, just thinking of what I wanted. Willing it to happen, focusing the dark magic like I was pointing a magic staff at my mind and ordering it to focus.

The deeper I got, the more my tattoos came into play. Running like an overlay of the energy centers in my body, channeling the magic and allowing it to be directed where it was needed. Energy swirled and pulsed under my clothes, my bare arms hot and burning, the artwork scalding then freezing, proud then suddenly sucking down like indents across my flesh. Waves and patterns of the magic flowing, directing my mind and my abilities to do as asked.

A summoning? A spell? Well, no, not really. None of it is spells, but it is, and that's the contradictory nature of it all. The Empty is the place of magic, but that's the background noise to the Universe itself. All pure magic. It's just not a natural part of what we are.

We have these laws called physics that stop it being ours, and we are what we are. But you can focus it, direct it, claim it for a moment. And although you suffer for it, you can cast wishes into its black pool and use the magic.

So, I summoned.

Cats.

I pictured the streets and I put a tight focus on the area, calling the cats to me. Then I waited. The magic receded. I let the sickness take me and paid my dues, but it wasn't too bad, or it's been worse at any rate, and I sank back, sweating, mind a fog of hurt, as my ink settled and my energy centers slowed.

It didn't take long. There were only three so it wasn't a popular pet in Stanley's part of the world, which wasn't surprising considering his cat, Govan.

As the three animals appeared from over fences, around corners, or in Govan's case from out the front door, I knew I had been right.

One black cat, one gray cat, one disheveled looking teenager of about eighteen opening Stanley's front door and padding out into the front garden.

I released the last of the magic, watching the cats go about their business. The boy shook long, unkempt hair, searched nervously up and down the street, squinting at shadows but not moving, then shook again. He went back inside, closing the door behind him.

A shifter.

I made a call.

 

*

 

Half an hour later, a few streets away, I sat on top of a children's climbing frame and watched Plum walk across the damp grass. Damn, she looked sexy as hell, as always. With sleep tousled hair, she pushed all my buttons. She stomped across the grass, tight black leggings, tighter vest, tighter face. She was not happy.

"This better be good, Spark. I was sleeping."

"Sorry, Plum, I really am. You know I wouldn't call unless it was important."

Her features softened. "Any news on Grandma?" I shook my head. "Rikka?"

"Nope. I went to see Taavi, that's why I'm up, and something niggled me. So I came here."

"To the park? I don't get it."

"We also came to see Stanley yesterday. Me, and Kate."

"Oh, how's it going with you and Kate?" Plum knew our flirting was just that. Both of us understood that getting together would be dangerous. For me, what with her being a panther shifter and sticking to her own for obvious reasons. Um, that's supposing she would even have me. She is out of just about everyone's league, so yeah, me jumping to conclusions, I guess. Still, we get on, and she is a nice woman. If rather intimidating.

"Good, I think. She wasn't there when I got up though."

"Oh! So it is going well."

"Um, sort of. We didn't, you know, but I—"

"Okay, okay, spare me the details. Look, what can I do for you?"

Plum is mostly business. Mostly. We've worked together a few times and she is very good at her job. She's an enforcer, like me, specializing in all things shifter related. She was the one person who could help. "Let me ask you a question. There are shifter cats, right?"

"Well, hello!" She pointed at her own chest. It bounced. I gulped.

"Oi. Not down there, look at my face you cheeky sod. I'll smack you silly if you try that again."

"Sorry, habit." I smiled. She snarled. Then she smiled.

"Spark, one of these days..."

"I should be so lucky."

"Yes, there are all kinds of shifters. Some of us luck out and are panthers, some are cats, some are bears, dogs, you know how it goes. Some can be whatever they want, but that's extreme, and rare. It takes a lot of magic and even then they are a single creature shifter at the heart of it all."

"And can a shifter also be a vampire?"

Plum stared at me hard. She grabbed a rail and pulled herself up easily with a one-handed pull-up. Man, she is strong. She sat beside me on the cold climbing frame and said, "What's all this about, Spark? You're freaking me out."

"I'm freaking myself out. Just putting together the pieces, at least for Grandma anyway. So, can you?"

"Well, sure, I guess. If a shifter gets bitten by a vampire, and they don't kill you but turn you, then sure, vampire shifter."

"And would the shifter community know about it?"

"Only if we knew the shifter. Once we saw them, we would know if they were a vampire."

"So you can tell? If you meet one you can tell right away?"

"Yes, of course. Can't you?"

"No, it's not that easy. If those of us that know dark magic look at another human we can't just tell what they are, what they can do, all that. But you can tell, if something is a shifter, am I right?"

"Comes with the territory."

"So how would you know they're a vampire?"

"I'm not exactly sure I could, now you mention it. Maybe I would just know something was off and take it from there. Never met one, but maybe the scent would be different."

"I think that's good enough for me. Can you spare five minutes? I need you to come look at something."

"Sure, if it's for Grandma."

"What!? Not because it's for the most handsome wizard in the country?" I flexed a tattooed bicep. She squeezed it. Hard. "Ow!"

"Baby." Plum jumped down and said, "Come on then, I've got sleeping to do."

We went to call on Stanley, and his "cat."

 

 

 

 

Sorry to Disturb You

As dawn broke, it was clear the sun had gone back into hiding. Today would be another drab day in Cardiff. Rain threatened but remained in the amassing clouds, so there was that to be thankful for, if little else.

We walked back to Stanley's street like two intruders, breaking the silence of the night. I opened the gate and we stepped up to his door. His car was gone. Maybe he had an early shift at the morgue, maybe he knew we were coming. I'd catch up with him later. I wanted to talk to the cat first anyway, and this way would be easier for all involved, mostly me.

My eyes snapped to black with the familiar sting as I called up the Empty. Silver sparks flew in my vision as I let energy flow down into my right forefinger. I put it to the lock and lumpy tendrils of magic swirled eagerly.

Click.

I turned the handle; the door opened.

"If you've forgotten your car keys again, I'll..." Govan trailed off as we walked into the crazy disco nightmare living room. I flicked on the lights. Govan was sat on the sofa watching early morning TV, eating a bowl of cereal. He dropped it in a panic and cornflakes and milk splashed all over the carpet as he got up to run.

"Don't think so, little man," said Plum as she crossed the room in three strong strides then picked him up by the scruff of the neck.

Govan shifted into his cat form and clawed hard at Plum's face, but she is no amateur and held him out and away. All he got was air. Plum hissed as she flashed to panther for a split second. Boy, did she look good as a panther. Nice tail. Bet it tickles.

When that didn't work, he tried to turn nasty. He snapped back to human form and gone was the rather bewildered looking teenager, hello Mr. Nasty. His upper lip curled back, his eyes went red and cruel, and his canines bared. Definitely a vampire.

"Guess maybe I didn't need your special skills to tell if he's a vampire or not after all. Even I can guess now," I said.

"Funny." Plum nodded at me and I nodded back.

Before Govan could get away, or bite, she threw him hard back onto the sofa. Then I showed him what I was made of, or a hint at least. My eyes turned from brown to black as onyx, silver sparks flashing and I saw his eyes widen as he noticed my tattoos squirm. As the power bit, I drew in a deep lungful of air while staring into his eyes, telling him of my mastery. He gasped for breath as dark matter tinged red seeped out of his body. Wisps of blood magic that came when called like an obedient pet.

"Tasty. I think I'll have some more." It's always a good idea to be dramatic at times like this. It freaks them out. The less resistance, the easier the job is.

I sucked again. The magic flew to me, making me sick. It was enough. I knew I'd shown him what I could do. I leaned forward, trying not to vomit or show unease, then forced myself to stand as the magic left me, along with his, back to the Empty where it belonged.

He didn't get older or shrivel before my eyes as usually happens when you take from a vampire—it reveals their true age—so he was new. Fresh to vampiredom.

"Do... not... move," I warned.

He stayed where he was, curled up and freaked out. Plum stood over him anyway, just in case. Once restored, I got straight to the point.

"Did you kill that girl at Grandma's?" He nodded. "Why? Because of Stanley?" Again, he nodded. The next bit would be hard. I almost couldn't say the words. "And, did you... kill Grandma?" He shook his head. I felt relief wash over me like the tickle of fae earlobes over my cheeks. "She's alive?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"What are you going to do with me? I didn't mean to do it. Stanley said I could. He let me. He told me to act like this stupid talking cat as he said you'd be coming and it would be funny and it's what he said had happened so I had to do it. He used magic on me! Made me a comedy creature because he'd seen it happen! I've never been made to do anything before. Ugh. He said it had to be done. I had to kill the girl and then he took Grandma. It's not my fault. I get confused. I don't know what's happening to me and I keep feeling sick. Why won't somebody help me?"

I looked at Plum but she just shrugged. She had less idea what he was talking about than me, but I think I got the gist of it. "He's playing out his future," I said to Plum. "Stanley is acting out what he's seen as that's what he believes he has to do. I never knew Stanley could use magic like that though. He's a sneaky one and no mistake. Goddamn, I hate seers!" Most seers are strong with dark magic, but they use it for specific goals, not to mess with others. Especially not teenage cat shifters. What on earth was he playing at?

"You mean he's doing things as he's seen them so he's just repeating all this?" asked Plum. She didn't know Stanley like I did, but everyone knew about his messed up life.

"Yeah, guess so. That's so warped though. Ugh. As if he does something in the present, then that's what he will see as his future, so then he does it... This is why I can't stand seers. None of it makes any sense whatsoever."

"Can I go now?" asked the terrified Govan from the sofa.

"No, you cannot. What the hell is wrong with you? If you've hurt Grandma I'll pull you limb from limb. Well, Plum here will, and I'll watch. Right, Plum?"

"Right. And I'm gonna do it slowly." Plum shifted into panther for a moment, face slick and short fur smooth as silk, massive teeth gleaming as she snarled and hissed. I couldn't help but wonder what the fur would feel like if you stroked it.

Govan sank deeper into the sofa and cried.

"Oh, that's just great. Look, who are you? What are you?"

Govan sniveled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He looked at me with pleading eyes, like he saw a chance to survive if he told me. Maybe he saw a way to get away from Stanley. What hold he had over the boy I had no idea, but there was a lot more going on than he'd told us.

"I'm me. Govan. I'm a cat shifter."

"Well, I think we guessed that bit. What about the killing of the girl? You're a vampire, right?"

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