Taken (13 page)

This time the second shot was aimed to catch me dodging the first and I had to drop and roll left. The balls whistled over my head and smashed splinters out of the bar. I came up, about to rush him, but he was already backpedalling out of range and as he did I caught a flash of danger on my precognition. “Luna, move!”

Luna obeyed instantly, jumping to one side, and the girl who’d been sneaking up behind her stumbled past as she missed. Before she could turn on Luna I was on her, pushing her back. I moved in for a grab—and pulled myself back just in time, skidding to a stop as I saw what would happen. One touch and I’d be writhing on the floor.

The girl saw me and gave me a catlike smile. She was dressed all in white, with a PVC jacket and leggings. She came at me, hands swinging with fingers curved into claws, and I jumped out of the way. I could feel the spell she was using, a malign form of life magic designed to wrack a body with pain. But just like Anne’s magic, it needed her to touch me to work. As the girl advanced on me I looked into the future, gauging her reach, then as she came in with fingers extended I put a side kick into her body.

It connected with a solid
thud
. My legs were longer than her arms and she went flying back, but her fingers brushed my leg as she fell. Agony shot through me, my muscles cramping and spasming. I lost my breath in a gasp and fell awkwardly, but it was over in a second. I pulled myself to my feet, shaking my head muzzily. “Alex!” Luna called, moving towards me. “Are you—?”

Rasta Plaits came up behind Luna and hit her in the back. Luna’s head jerked back as she went flying to hit the floor hard. All of a sudden I forgot about the pain in my leg. I was on the guy in two strides.

He swung and went over my head. I came up, let him miss with another punch so I could get into position, then hammered a blow into his side just below his rib cage. The floating ribs are one of the vulnerable points on the torso and I hit with enough force to break them.

It felt like hitting a wall. Pain shot up my arm and Rasta Plaits didn’t even flinch. He just grinned at me, then grabbed me and threw me into a table.

People scattered as the table and I went over with a crash. I hit the floor hard but ingrained reflexes turned the fall into a roll and I was up on my feet in an instant. A wide space on the floor had cleared and as I looked around I saw that both Rasta Plaits and the girl were coming around the overturned table towards me. The thrower was back too, manoeuvring around for a clear shot. Behind them I could see Luna pulling herself to her feet. For an instant there was a pause.

I looked slowly across the three of them. “You have no idea who you are fucking with.”

Rasta Plaits and the girl laughed and jeered. I didn’t listen to the words; I couldn’t get both myself and Luna out and that meant they had to go down. I tuned out the voices and the music, focusing only on my opponents.

Rasta Plaits attacked, his swings powerful but clumsy, and I moved away and let the attacks breeze past. As I studied him I realised he was using earth magic to harden his body, toughening skin and flesh to the consistency of rock. Hitting him would just bruise my hands.

Rasta Plaits kept punching and I kept dodging. My movements were quick, economical, and I gave only minor glances to his blows to make sure they would miss. For all his power he didn’t have much skill and he was tiring fast. The girl danced around, trying to get behind me. The skinny kid was looking for a throw but with the three of us so close he couldn’t get a shot. I considered manoeuvring Rasta Plaits so that he would eat one of the skinny kid’s projectiles and saw that it wouldn’t work—his skin was so toughened he’d just shrug it off. But it gave me another idea.

A silver mist was clinging to Rasta Plaits, the residue of Luna’s curse. I let him push me back towards the bar. The girl had disappeared from my view and I could sense her at my back. As Rasta Plaits bullied forward she came up behind me, aiming for my neck.

I caught Rasta Plaits’s rush and spun him around just as the girl struck, and as I did I felt the flare of magic as Luna’s curse took, bending chance. The girl’s hand missed me by an inch and got Rasta Plaits in the chest, and with my mage’s sight I saw the green-black ooze of the girl’s spell leap into his body.

Rasta Plaits screamed, convulsing as he crashed to the floor, and the girl fell back, staring in shock. I was already moving away, striding towards the thrower. The skinny kid hesitated, then seeing me coming straight for him he threw at my chest. I sidestepped and the metal ball flew all the way into the wall fifty feet behind. I broke into a run. He flexed his wrists and two more balls dropped into his hands; he threw once, twice, and I dodged both without breaking stride. He had just enough time to get out another set before I caught him by the wrist and pulled him off balance as my right hand slid my knife from its sheath. I dragged the kid up with his arm twisted behind his back and my knife under his chin.

The kid froze. I was standing behind him, holding him by one arm. He couldn’t see the knife but could feel the cold metal against his neck, the point digging in under his jaw. The music cut off and the club was suddenly silent except for the rustle and chatter.

Rasta Plaits was whimpering on the floor. The girl was standing dead still, eyes flicking from me to the knife to the people around. I saw her glance at Luna, who’d gotten to her feet and was a little way to her side. “Don’t,” I told her. I forced the kid forward, feeling him trembling against me. All around, the crowd was silent. “Let’s try this again. We’re looking for Jagadev.”

The girl looked from me to Luna, then pointed at a staircase beyond the crowd, leading up.

“Are we going to have any more trouble?”

The girl shook her head.

“How about you, kid?” I pushed the knife a little bit farther up into his jaw.

“No,” the kid said in a strangled voice.

I looked between the two of them, then dropped the kid and walked away, resheathing my knife as I did. A path cleared for us in the crowd, this time without my having to do anything. Behind us I felt the girl rush to where Rasta Plaits had fallen. The kid slumped over a table, rubbing his neck, and I sensed him think about aiming another shot at my back . . . then decide against it. As we reached the stairs, the music started up again.

“You okay?” I asked Luna once we were out of sight.

“Bruises,” Luna said, rubbing her back with a wince. “I’ll be fine.”

I smiled slightly. “I remember when you’d almost forgotten what it was like to be hurt.”

“Yeah,
that
changed all right. Seriously, Alex, can’t I ever get dressed up to go out with you without this happening?”

“It doesn’t happen every time we have a night out.”

“Name one time it hasn’t.”

“Um . . . your apprenticeship ceremony.”

“Somebody tried to mug us on the way back across the Heath.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Who were those guys?”

“Adepts,” I said. “Like you, I guess, but dumber.” I shook my head. “This sort of crap is why adepts end up on the bottom of the food chain. They’ve got just enough power to make them feel tough, but not enough to stop themselves getting flattened when they pick a fight with the wrong guy.”

Adepts are a lot more common than mages, ten times more common according to some estimates. Adepts and mages tend not to get on all that well, and to be honest that’s mostly the mages’ fault. Mage society is based on a hierarchy of magical power and adepts are second-class citizens at best. In most cases adepts choose to stay out of mage business completely and mages generally let them as long as they don’t break any rules. “Do you think that’s what this club is?” Luna asked. “A place for adepts?”

“Maybe,” I said. “But that’s not what’s bothering me.”

Luna looked at me, questioning. “What bothers me,” I said, “is that none of the bouncers did anything to break up the fight.”

The balcony at the top of the stairs was big, more like a mezzanine floor, and it was shaped in a wide semicircle that followed the lines of the room. It was better furnished than the lower level, with sofas and low tables, and something about the acoustics made the music a little quieter. It had the feeling of a place to sit and talk and watch the view rather than the frenzy of the dance floor below. A couple of hard-looking security men watched us as we entered, not speaking, and glancing around I could see that they would have had a perfect view of our fight below.
Where were you, I wonder?

I knew we needed to go right, but Luna slowed by the railing. “Alex,” she said, nodding down at the crowd.

“Where?”

“The two by the bar,” Luna said. “I recognise them.”

I looked down and saw two men talking with the bartender. They seemed to be asking him questions, and as I watched he pointed towards the staircase we’d used. There was something familiar about them, and I felt as though I’d seen them before. They made me think of police for some reason . . . and that made me remember. “Great.”

“They were asking about Anne,” Luna said. “Do you know them?”

“Never met them,” I said. “Not yet, anyway.” They were the pair of Keepers who would have come to interrogate me had Anne been killed last night. I headed along the balcony. “Come on.”

“Wait,” Luna said as she hurried after me. “Why are they still asking about Anne? Didn’t she come back to London with you?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I . . . might have asked her not to show herself to anyone.”

“Why not?”

“Figured I might learn something.”

“What, by getting arrested?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time, all right?”

The balcony was less crowded than the dance floor, and the people were better dressed—fewer T-shirts and jeans, more evening wear. We skirted a table where a group of girls were chatting and drinking. To one side was a darkened booth with two shapes. I was about to pass by, then something caught my eye. “Lyle?”

Lyle started and looked up. He was dressed in a dark coat and looked like he’d been trying to be inconspicuous. “Alex. Um—”

“What are you doing here?” I said in genuine surprise. It was about the last place I’d expect to find someone like Lyle.

“I, er—” Lyle drew himself up. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss the matter.”

I looked at Lyle’s companion. She was hanging back in the shadows but something about her height and the carriage of her head jogged my memory. “Oh, I get it,” I said. “Hey, Crystal.” I looked at Lyle. “So she’s looking for help for the tournament.”

Lyle stiffened. “I’ve asked you before not to use your abilities for—”

“I don’t need divination magic to guess what you’re up to.”

Crystal looked at me pointedly. “I’m sorry, but this is a private conversation.”

“Really? What’s it about?”

Crystal didn’t react but I felt a flash of anger behind her eyes. “Alex,” Lyle said uneasily. “Keepers are looking for you. Given your position, I’m not sure you should be—”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll work out,” I said cheerfully. “See you later. Crystal.”

We walked away. “You really like annoying him, don’t you?” Luna said under her breath.

“Old history,” I murmured. “I’ll tell you about it some day.” The crowd up here was scattered, thinner. I searched through it, looking ahead for danger, and my heart jumped. “Oh shit.”

Luna sighed. “Now what?”

“Behind that pillar. Out of sight
now
!”

Luna didn’t hesitate, and neither did I. As we ducked out of sight a tall, slim figure appeared through the crowd, stalking towards us. Onyx.

I stood behind the pillar. A couple of people gave us curious glances but nothing more. We were fewer than twenty feet from Onyx, but I’d dealt with him enough times to get a fairly good grasp of what he could and couldn’t do. Onyx was a force mage and all his powers revolved around the direct use of momentum. He was fast as a cobra and utterly lethal in a fight, but not much good at being subtle. When it came to detecting and identifying people, he wasn’t any better than a normal man.

Onyx passed us without a glance. I waited ten seconds, then led Luna out and headed in the direction he’d come from, keeping an eye out. I knew Onyx would be back. “Is there
anyone
here who likes us?” Luna said.

“Apparently not.” Ahead, the balcony ended in a square doorway. “Tell you what, let’s ask the guy who invited me.”

“Why are all these people here?” Luna asked quietly.

“No idea.” Through the doorway I could see a big open room. As we walked in I had the feeling we were getting into something we didn’t understand.

chapter 7

T
he room at the end of the balcony was tall with dark walls and pillars, and it was set into the building in such a way that despite its size it didn’t extend out over the dance floor. To the left was a view down into the club, but a layer of tinted glass had been installed that I knew would block line of sight from below. Guards were standing on either side of the entrance and more were spaced around the room, each looking about as friendly as the ones we’d seen on the way in. A square of four black leather sofas sat to one side of the room, giving a direct view over the crowd, and on the other side was a corridor leading deeper into the building, halfhidden behind a bead curtain. Girls and men in flashy clothes were scattered around, laughing and chattering.

At the centre, reclining on one of the sofas, was Jagadev. The rakshasa was big and powerfully built, with thick arms and legs. He had the head and the striped orange-black fur of a tiger but was humanoid enough to wear clothes—a black suit with a red silk shirt and tie. He held a wineglass in one clawed paw. He didn’t move, yet somehow he dominated the room, as though everybody there were oriented towards him and waiting to take their cue.

I walked straight towards Jagadev. Faces turned to watch as we approached, and I had the sudden strange feeling that I was at a court, the inhabitants watching us draw closer to the king on his throne. An Asian guy in sunglasses stepped in front of us, blocking our way.

I stopped and met his gaze. “Alex Verus.”