Magic Resistant (15 page)

The giant square Sears building loomed over
them. Five rows of windows lined the walls, each row protruding
further than the one beneath it. It reminded Jackson of a massive
square bowl. Less than a city block away was the Eaton Center and
their destination. A huge tourist attraction, it saw thousands of
visitors in a day. Shady dealings, without a doubt, overlooked with
so many people milling around.

They entered the brightly lit stairwell,
joining dozens of other people heading down into the underground
complex. The gleaming floors and abundance of lighting made it
difficult to tell this was all under the city of Toronto. Lined
with windows, the shops displayed their wares and enticed
passersby.

Under normal circumstances, Jackson would’ve
browsed, searching for any interesting items. However, today, his
attention focused solely on speaking to Victor’s contact. The shops
a blur in his mind, unable to recall which stores they pass on
their way to the tiny, out-of-the way shop.

Head low, the ball cap shaded him, his face
averted from as many cameras as possible. He hoped to fool the
facial recognition programs he knew the Coterie used. As soon as he
went into hiding, they’d flagged him in their database, his image
one of thousands. The Enforcers liked using the recognition
programs as it freed up manpower. A computer searched hundreds of
camera feeds within moments and never complained about needing a
break. Something the Enforcers, no matter their race, could do.

While Jackson never thought it’d be used
against him, his knowledge of their procedures allowed him to evade
capture for the past year.

Please let this person have helpful
information
, he silently begged the uncaring universe. He was
so damn weary of running. Constant worry and dread ate at him,
swallowing pieces of him whole until he feared he’d lose himself.
The thought of facing down a friend and potentially hurting them
gave him nightmares.

A few minutes after entering the shopping
complex, they arrived at the shop, aptly called “Secrets”. Compared
to the other stores, it was dingy with low lighting. Items crammed
onto the shelves made it almost impossible to walk down the aisles
without fear of knocking something over. Several shelves groaned
under the weight of heavy tomes and it was a miracle they hadn’t
cracked down the center.

A few fascinating objects caught Jackson’s
eye and he made a mental note to look at them again later if he had
the time. A beautiful emerald stud earring under the counter glass
reminded him of Julia and he wondered if she’d like it. He hadn’t
seen her change any of her earrings.

Now that he thought about it, she hadn’t even
change the order of them. They were all different gems. Surely a
woman would want to mix it up. Was she a creature of habit or were
they all imbued? Later, he’d asked her which ones she’d
enspelled.

A shady looking customer at the main counter
argued with the cashier. He caught snippets of their conversation
“Need... Ire... please, man!... Jonesing bad...Ire.”

Jackson knew enough about street drugs to
recognize what the junkie wanted. Ire, short for vampire blood.
When ingested, it gave an incredible high, like being one of the
undead for a short while. The user gained increased hearing, sight,
speed and strength without the bad effects of being a vampire. No
drinking blood or burning on contact with sunlight.

The experience, though, depended on the
blood.

A newly made vampire gave a small high with a
slight increases. An ancient vampire, well, they were rare and
secretive for a reason. As far as he knew, no one had ever used the
blood of a truly ancient one. Rumour was, the older the vampire,
the more intense the experience. Like all drugs, though, Ire was
addictive, extremely addictive.

The cashier told off the junkie, making it
clear he didn’t have anything to sell. The cynical part of Jackson
noted their appearance probably had something to do with the
refusal. He doubted this place was drug free.

Victor strolled through the store, looking at
a book here, a crystal ball there and then calmly made his way to
the counter. Rows upon rows of small knickknacks lined the wall
behind the cash-out, many of them boasting magical properties.
Impossible claims of “Love Potion”, “Gain Inches!”, “Lose Weight!”
and many others on the different bottles that made up one full
row.

Jackson wondered how many humans coughed up
the cash without understanding the basics behind magic. Casting
magic into an item, an art form lost through the ages. Making
potions was a personal thing, its effects worked for just the
brewer. And crystal balls, well, the only thing shown was the
user’s reflection. To truly see into the future was a gift few
mages had, a taxing and demanding talent.

An easy, confident smile stretched his lips
as Victor said to the cashier, “I’d like to see the owner please.
I’m interested in purchasing a special item from him, very
rare.”

Implied was the amount of money he would be
spending. The other man eyed him with the familiarity of a con
artist. He surreptitiously checked out the expensive watch, the
gold cufflinks studded with small diamonds, the tailor-made suit
and the perfect white teeth that gleamed when Victor smugly smiled.
Everything about him screamed rich business man.

“Right away. Please, give me a few moments to
let him know you are here. Whom may I ask is calling?” The cashier
morphed from sneering and bored to courteous and respectful.
Jackson coughed to cover his amused chuckle. He had to admit Victor
played the part well. Would’ve fooled him too. Just goes to show
even con men could be conned.

“Victor. You may tell him Victor is here to
see him. He’ll know. We spoke on the phone.” The smooth, cultural
voice a new one to Jackson. Usually he had a slightly East Coast
hardness to his vowels. It seemed he’d learned new tricks during
their year apart.

Giving a polite, impersonal smile, the
cashier hurried to a hidden door off to the side of the long
counter. He knocked hard and fast on fake wood paneling then
entered. Jackson did his best to look at ease while tension sung
through his body.

They didn’t wait long. The other man motioned
for them to enter. Walking past the long counter, Victor in the
lead, they found themselves in a small office. The soft
snick
signaled the closing of the door.

Jackson surveyed the room and assumed the
unknown man spent much of his time here. Rumpled blankets formed a
nest on the black chenille couch. Empty wrappers from different
restaurants overflowed the wastebasket. A stale, faint decaying
smell lingered in the air. The walls bare of any pictures or
paintings. No personal touch at all showed in the room. A place to
sleep and eat, nothing more.

Several computer monitors took up the large
desk. A very pretty man sat in the chair behind the desk. Fine,
almost feminine features framed by light golden hair. Dark lashes,
ones women paid a fortune for, surrounded pale blue eyes. A thin
upper lip paired with a full pouty lower lip completed the delicate
face that belonged to a man.

This person was Victor’s informant? He’d
expected a rough and tumble guy or maybe a greasy little snitch,
certainly not this.

His easy smile still in place, Victor walked
toward the other man and stopped a foot away from the desk. “You
wanted to speak to me in person, Karl?”

Jackson accessed his inner sight, checking
for any traps, listening spells or anything odd about Karl. He
found a lot of strong wards in place: anti-eavesdropping, trace
blockers, anti-scrying (again, rare for a mage to scry with
accuracy), and several defensive wards for overly friendly guests.
All in all, about what he expected to find. Karl was exactly what
he appeared, at least for his physical appearance. He didn’t seem
to have any magical abilities and his racial sense was as a normal
human.

Slowly, as if unsure of how much to trust
them, Karl explained, “I have a friend, a really good friend, who
disappeared a few weeks back. Gavin showed up two days ago and told
me what happened. If it’d been anyone else, I wouldn’t have
believed him. But, Gavin wouldn’t lie about this. Damn, I wish it
was a lie.”

He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to compose
himself. Jackson hoped he wouldn’t start crying. It was difficult
enough to comfort a crying woman, never mind a man.

When Karl opened his eyes, Jackson realized
he misunderstood his reaction. Not pain but a deep rage he
struggled with.

Cold hard steel threaded his words as he
continued, “Walking home three weeks ago, they abducted Gavin.
There were no leads, nothing at all as to why. I put out feelers to
everyone I know, which is a hell of a lot of people, in both high
and low places. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Then, out of the blue,
he’s banging at my door. He almost busted down my damn door!”

He paused again, a deep steady breath eased
from his lungs as he tried to contain his temper. Jackson kept a
wary eye on him, ready to put him down at the slightest hint of
aggression towards them.

Victor encouraged him, making all the
appropriate noises.

“This is what Gavin told me. Abducted by
werewolves, they held him in a cage outside of Toronto. He said
there were several others in cages as well. He’s positive the
captives were all human. They injected him with something and it
increased his hearing, eyesight and strength. Thanks to the
enhanced hearing, he overheard two of the werewolves talking about
a hunt which convinced him to escape. That’s all he would tell me.
He said he didn’t want to get me involved in this, said they would
target me next. I promised him I would find someone who could help.
Victor, I’ve helped you many times over the years. It’s time to pay
back the favour. You help Gavin and this will clear our debt.”

Victor’s expression implied he wanted to
argue, to refuse Karl. However, he gave a sharp nod and said “Where
is he? I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“He’s still here. He never left. I couldn’t
trust anywhere else except here. A moment, please.” Karl stood,
reaching maybe five feet, and the delicate bones of his face
mirrored in his slender body. Gracefully, he glided over to the
couch. Grasping the bottom with one hand, he heaved it away from
the wall.

Who would’ve thought such a fragile looking
person could move the heavy couch. Was it hinged? A closer
examination told him the truth. A small amount of magic threaded
through the very fabric of the couch, almost negligible.

Revealing a small door, he knocked once then
a second time before opening it. A crawl space, most likely a panic
room hidden within the wall. Interesting. Why would he need a panic
room? Did he have many enemies?

A ragged person inched out on his hands and
knees. His hair a greasy mess and several weeks of beard growth
shadowed the lower half of his face. His grey eyes shrunken in, a
haunted look darkened them. Dried blood flaked off his torn
clothes, but no wounds were visible.

“Why didn’t you help clean him up?” Victor
choked out. By the way his nose wrinkled, Jackson guessed they both
found the smell offensive.

“He wouldn’t let me. Just wanted to have a
safe place to stay.” Karl stated, calm and without hesitation.

He stretched out a hand to the other man,
helping him to stand. Gavin wobbled on his feet, his experience
having taken its toll on his muscles. Karl effortlessly took the
other man’s weight, the ease with which he did so at odds with his
slender body. Tenderly, Karl patted his friend’s arm, a wealth of
care and concern in the movement.

A few moments later, a sense of Gavin’s
nature hit Jackson. He went into combat stance, gathering energy
for defensive spells. Victor sensed it the same time as Jackson and
he too went on alert.

“Holy shit, he’s a vampire! Why in the nine
hells didn’t you tell us he’s a newly made vampire?!” Anger
sharpened Jackson’s voice and he refrained from throwing a nasty
spell at Karl for good measure.

“What? No, no! He’s not a vampire.” Karl
stepped between them, trying to shield Gavin which would’ve amused
him under different circumstances. Gavin stood almost a head taller
and, even with the evident starvation, his body was bulkier. Easy
enough to hit Gavin without harming Karl.

“He came to me during daylight. No blisters
or burns from being in the sun. Not once has he tried to drink from
me. I’m also protected against vampire mind control. Part of my
wards since I occasionally deal with them.” His voice strong and
didn’t waver once. He believed what he said.

Chin jutting upwards, his shoulders thrown
back in defiance. “I asked you here to help him, not kill him.”

“Gavin’s a vampire. I can sense it. I’ve
never been wrong before about a race.” Victor said, ready to throw
a spell at the first sign of hostility.

Jackson hadn’t shut down his inner sight and
when he examined Gavin, what he saw confused the hell out of him.
His sense told him vampire, but his inner sight said human. Except,
abnormalities he’d never seen before confused him. Gavin’s muscles
bulged one moment and shrunk the next. His ears grew the size of a
bat’s and his eyes became large and round like an owl’s then both
changed back to human size.

“Wait. There’s something odd. Victor, open
your inner sight.”

He waited for the muttered “What the fuck?”
from Victor and then continued, “See, odd. I think Gavin needs to
explain to us exactly what’s going on here.”

Gavin spoke up, his voice hoarse from either
lack of use or excessive screaming, “Don’t want to hurt anyone.
Just wanna stop the bastards that took me. More people there,
planning on hunting them in wolf form. They laughed. Said nothing
left to identify the prey. That’s how they thought of us, as
prey!”