Taken (8 page)

Maybe it had been the extra effort of the gate stone; maybe it had been the final shock of moving her that last time, tearing her wounds back open. But whatever reserve Anne had been drawing on to keep herself alive, it had been used up. She was dying. I stood over Anne, looking down at her still form, and felt helpless. With my divination magic there’s so much I can find, so much I can do—but there was nothing I could do about this.

As if she could feel my gaze, Anne’s eyes flickered open. Her breaths were shallow and she had to try twice to speak. “Need . . .”

I crouched next to her. “Need what?”

Reddish-brown eyes looked into mine. There was fear there, and desperation. “Take my . . . hand.”

Anne raised her hand off the bed. I reached for it—

And my precognition screamed a warning. Instantly I sprang back, coming to my feet in the centre of the room, tense and balanced, ready to flee.

Anne’s arm was still reaching out towards me, trembling slightly, then her strength failed and it fell to hang off the side of the bed. Her head was turned towards me and I caught a flash of something that made me stop. Pain, yes, but more than anything she looked ashamed.

“Can’t . . .” Anne’s soft voice was quick and ragged. “Nothing left. Please . . .”

I stared at Anne and saw the choice branching ahead of me. If I stayed where I was Anne’s breaths would come slower and her words would become fainter and soon, in only a few minutes, those red-brown eyes would close and she would die.

But if I took her hand . . .

If I took her hand I’d be struck down by some kind of magical attack, something I’d never seen before. It would be fast as lightning and there wouldn’t be a thing I could do to stop it. In the futures I saw myself crumpling, then blackness.

“Alex . . .” Anne said softly, and her eyes were pleading. “Please . . .”

Every instinct I had was shouting to stay away. It wasn’t as if Anne were my apprentice. I wasn’t responsible for her and it wasn’t my fault she was hurt. And she’d just tried to . . . actually I didn’t know
what
she’d tried to do. My divination magic can only see what my own senses would perceive, and all I could see down that path was darkness. For all I knew taking her hand would mean we’d both end up dead.

It wasn’t my problem. No one would blame me for leaving her.

I looked at Anne, seeing the slim dying body, the fear and shame and desperate hope in her eyes, and walked forward. I had to fight myself to do it; my danger sense was screaming at me with every step. I reached down and took Anne’s hand from where it hung limp.

There was a green flash and the strength in every part of my body vanished at once. My hearing cut out, my vision went black, and I couldn’t see or sense or feel. I never felt myself hit the floor.

chapter 4

I
woke up very slowly.

I felt awful. My muscles were like water and my head was dizzy. I felt like I’d caught a fever, starved for two weeks, then gotten the worst hangover of my life to top it off. As soon as I realised how bad I felt my first reaction was to try to go back to sleep.

I stayed like that for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness. What finally pushed me awake was realising how hungry I was. I opened my eyes.

It was morning and bright sunlight was streaming through the window. There was something odd about the quiet, and it took me a moment to realise what was missing: the background hum of the city. I wasn’t in London anymore.

I was in a guest room with plain white walls and I was lying in a bed. I was still wearing my clothes but my shoes had been taken off, and looking to one side I could see that the contents of my pockets had been neatly stacked on a bedside table. The room was familiar, as was the sound of the river outside, and a moment later I realised where I was: my safe house in Wales. I just wasn’t sure how I’d got here.

Then I remembered. Anne; the taxi; the battle and the gate. I tried to pull myself up and failed. My muscles were ridiculously weak; I couldn’t even sit upright. My body felt different too, lighter.

Footsteps sounded from the corridor and I looked up to see Anne’s head poking around the door. She vanished and reappeared a second later holding a tray.

Anything I’d been planning to say went right out of my head as soon as I smelt the food. My stomach growled and I realised I wasn’t just hungry, I was ravenous. “Um,” Anne said. “I think you should eat—”

I didn’t quite grab it out of her hands but I came close. The food was oatmeal and fairly bland, not that I cared. Anne went back to the kitchen and got a second bowl, which lasted about as long as the first.

As I was starting on the third bowl I felt the stirrings of a spell and glanced up to see Anne reaching out towards me. As I looked at her she stopped. “May I?”

“As long as it’s not whatever you hit me with last night.”

Anne flinched as if I’d slapped her. I shook my head. “Sorry, didn’t mean it like that. Go ahead.”

Anne placed her hand against my shoulder. A faint green glow, the colour of new leaves in spring, welled up around her hand to soak into me. I could feel it spreading through my body but I couldn’t tell what it was doing.

As I ate I studied Anne out of the corner of my eye. She was wearing a white T-shirt that left her long arms bare, and her skin was a healthy colour again. The bloodstains and bullet holes in the T-shirt were very obvious but she moved without any trace of pain or stiffness. In fact she looked a hell of a lot better than I felt.

I finished up the third bowl. Now that I’d taken the edge off my hunger, it was a little easier to think. Anne was still working her spell through the touch of her hand, and I could feel a faint tingle within my body. “What are you doing?”

“Ah . . .” Anne said in her soft voice. “I’m rebuilding your reserves.”

“How?”

“Your body converts food into energy,” Anne said. “I’m . . . speeding that up. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Okay,” I said. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but unless my memory’s going you stopped seven bullets with your chest last night while I only got a few bruises. So could you explain why you’re looking the picture of health when I can’t even get out of bed?”

Anne made as if to speak, then went out of the room, coming back with another two bowls. She put them on the table and sat on a chair, not meeting my eyes.

I started on the next bowl. “You’re not very used to talking about this stuff, are you?”

“Sorry.”

“Well, if you want to eat too and don’t fancy oatmeal, there should be something in the kitchen.”

“I don’t think it’s there.”

“It’s in the cupboard under the sink.”

“I know.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I . . . already ate it.”

“You can’t have eaten all of it. There was three days’ worth.”

Anne looked embarrassed.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Sorry,” Anne said again.

I looked at Anne’s slim figure in disbelief. “Where do you put it all?”

“I used too much last night.” Anne brushed her hair back, looking down at the floor. “I burnt all my reserves. Muscle and fat. It took . . . quite a lot to rebuild them.”

I looked at Anne a moment longer. “You’re a life mage.”

Anne nodded.

“That was how you survived those injuries,” I said. “You were repairing the damage from the bullets.”

“But it’s hard,” Anne said. “When I heal someone else, some of the energy comes from me and some comes from them. When I heal myself I can’t . . .” She trailed off.

I stared at her for a second, and then it clicked. “Was that what you did to me? You took energy from my body and used it to keep yourself alive?”

Anne nodded again. She didn’t meet my eyes.

Well, that explained why I felt so terrible. I’d never been life-drained before and I shivered a little as I remembered the feeling. Having the strength drained out of every part of your body at once is a uniquely nasty experience.

Anne still had her eyes downcast, and I realised suddenly that she felt ashamed. “Ah, relax,” I said. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Anne looked up in surprise. “You’re not . . . ?”

“Well, I feel like crap,” I said. “But all in all, I’d rather feel like crap than have you dead. Be a bit of a waste after I went to all that effort. Just try and take a bit less next time, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Anne said again. “I was—”

“I’m kidding,” I said. “And you can stop worrying, I’m not going to report you to the Council.”

I saw Anne relax a bit. Life-draining is outlawed by the Council—it’s too close to the forbidden technique of Harvesting—and in her position she’d be in serious trouble if accused. “Thank you.”

“So I’m guessing this is why I’m so hungry?”

Anne nodded. “Your body stores short-term and long-term energy. I . . . took most of it. You’ve been burning body fat all night.” Anne hesitated. “You, um, might find you’re a bit lighter.”

I lifted the covers and looked down at myself. “Huh. You know, you could make a lot of money in the weight-loss business.”

“Everyone says that.” Anne sounded faintly exasperated. “You’re supposed to have
some
fat.”

I noticed with mild surprise that I’d eaten the last two bowls of oatmeal without realising it. “You can read bodies, right?”

Anne nodded.

“How am I doing?”

“You’re fine,” Anne said at once. “You’ll need to eat about three times as much as normal for a while but your body will tell you that. Just be careful for a day or two while your energy reserves build up again. But you could get up now if you wanted.”

I suited the action to the word. My legs felt a little wobbly and there was a lingering weakness in my limbs, but I was feeling better and managed to stay on my feet. My phone was on the table, and looking at it I saw that it was past ten. “Ah hell,” I said as I remembered my appointment with Sonder. “I’m supposed to be somewhere.”

“Wait!” Anne said in alarm. “You can’t use a gate stone already. You need to—”

“I’m all right,” I said. “I just need to make a call.”

*  *  *

O
nce I was in the corridor and out of sight I took out my phone and saw that I had four missed calls. As I did, I saw that my hand was shaking. I leant against the wall and closed my eyes. It wasn’t the physical drain that was getting to me, not really. I’ve been hurt before and I’m used to it. It was the memory of last night.

Killing with a knife is much more personal than with a gun. A gun is detached, clinical. Aim, squeeze the trigger, see the puff of red. Even looking down at the body afterwards it doesn’t really feel like you did it. A knife is different. You feel the impact as the blade goes in, the warmth of the blood on your hands, the struggles of the man you’re holding. It’s harder to shut out.

I didn’t try. Instead I ran through the events of last night, deliberately replaying the battle in the flat step by step. One after another I thought about the choices I could have taken and the other ways the battle could have ended. I thought about the men killing Anne or killing me and compared that to my memory of stabbing the man in the back. If I had to do it all over again, would I make the same choice?

Yes. I would.
As I decided that, the memory loosened a little. It wasn’t any easier, but facing it, understanding it, made it bearable. I stayed there for another few minutes, then once I was calm again I tapped a stored number on my phone.

The phone rang once and was picked up on the second ring. “Alex?”

It was Luna’s voice, anxious and hopeful, and hearing it pulled me the rest of the way back to the world of the living. Suddenly I was awake again. “It’s me.”

“You’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I heard Luna sigh in relief. “It’s him, he’s okay,” she called to someone else, then came back to the receiver. “Where have you
been
?”

“Long story.”

“I called last night and I thought you were just asleep. Then I met Sonder this morning and he hadn’t heard anything either! We’ve been worried sick.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I got held up.”

“Don’t scare me like that. I was afraid you’d been kidnapped again or something.”

“No, I—Wait, what do you mean ‘again’?”

“You know, like with Morden.”

“That happened
once
.”

“And the time with Belthas.”

“I got caught that time because I was going after you.”

“No you weren’t. Anyway, what about—”

There was the sound of someone else clearing their throat. “Oh, right,” Luna said. “Where are you?”

“Wales.”

“Wales?”

“Wales.”

“Why are you in Wales?”

“Three men tried to kill Anne last night. There was a fight and we evac’d to the safe house. Has anyone come after you or Sonder?”

“Tried to kill—? No, no one’s come after us. Alex, what have you been doing?”

“Good.” The weariness in my limbs wasn’t going away and I realised Anne had been right. I didn’t have the strength to use a gate stone yet. “Listen, I’m going to be laid up for a few hours. I want you to work with Sonder on those reports. Get as familiar with the information as you can.”

“Are you going to be here?”

“No, I’m going to be following up on something else. Have you got any classes today?”

“Just one. It finishes at five.”

“Good. When you’re done go to Arachne’s and ask her to fit you a dress. Ask her to find me something too while you’re at it. I’ll meet you there, but I might be late.”

“You’re finally getting a better wardrobe?”

“No, we’re going to a party.”

“Oh,” Luna said. “Something
really
dangerous.”

“As long as I don’t have to arm-wrestle you to make you go this time. Now put Sonder on, I need to ask him something.”

“Say please.”

“Just do it.”

“Sonder!” Luna called. “Alex wants to talk to you. He says he’s got a date tonight and wants some advice on what to wear.”

I rolled my eyes. When Luna took the formal oath of apprenticeship, she swore to obey me “without question.” Luna’s way of getting around this has been to follow orders to the letter but add some creative misinterpretation. I heard the clunking of the phone being put down and picked up, then Sonder’s voice. “Um, hello?”