Winter's Magic (The Order Book 1)

by H. M. Clarke

  “I’m here, with George. And we’ve been set to clearing a floor that David and John have already been through.” At Richard’s raised eyebrow, she continued. “I think he wants to keep me out of harm’s way so I don’t kill anyone else.”

  “Else?” Both eyebrows rose this time.

  “Kaitlyn is a Sanguine Mage. She defended us against an Infernum.”

  “A Infernum? Really?”

  “Really. I am getting sick of people not believing that I actually did it.”

  “It’s not…” Richard stopped mid-sentence and looked at George.

  “A Sanguine Mage?”

  George nodded.

  “And bonded to you?”

  George nodded again.

  Kaitlyn felt the hairs on her arms begin to rise and she felt a sudden tension spring up between Richard and George.

  “Damn, Wheeler!” Richard muttered as he turned and walked back across the room.

  “Richard, where are you going?” Kaitlyn called out, caught off guard by his sudden departure.

  “I’m going to do my job.”

  Kaitlyn watched him go, bewildered by his sudden mood change. She had got the impression earlier today that Richard liked George, obviously her impression was wrong.

  “He’s having issues with everyone today,” Kaitlyn said off handedly to George, who now stood beside her.

  “Tempestus Magi are like that. Their moods change as quickly as the weather.”

  Kaitlyn glanced sidelong at George. Now was as good enough time as any to try to get information out of him. This floor was cleared so there should not be any interruptions. Time to pick George’s mind for information.

  “Do Talents affect Magi like that?” She quickly hurried on to explain herself at George’s raised eyebrow.

  “I mean, you inferred that Richard’s volatile nature comes from his affinity with the weather. Does your Talent affect you in any way?”

  George let a small smile touch his lips. “Chris says that being a Canto Mage makes me very precise in my spoken words and my increased vocabulary. The incantations need to be precise or the spell backfires.”

  Kaitlyn intently watched him, drinking in every word he said. Magi never talked much about their Talents with straights. Everything was so new to her.

  “And Chris?” Just saying his name sent the now familiar flutter through her stomach, but this time it did not feel as strong as it usually did.

  “Chris is a Reticeo Mage and because of this does not tend to be talkative. He will say enough to get his point across and then assume that his brief words will be enough for everyone.” George paused, letting his small smile widen.

  “This is especially difficult for John, who needs everything precisely explained to him.”

  “You do realize that John only acts like an idiot to annoy you and Chris?” Kaitlyn had to say it. John is not a simple man, but he can certainly be a pain in the butt.

  “We know. It does not stop Chris from getting annoyed at having to repeat himself constantly.” George stopped talking and glanced around the dark, deserted office space around them, as if weighting what he was about to say.

  “Chris is a man of few words. The only people who really understand him were his late wife and I. Do not get me wrong, Chris is happy. But he still misses his wife. Theirs was a love that only others could dream of.”

  Kaitlyn shifted on her feet, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction George’s conversation was heading. She had never met Chris’s late wife and considering Kaitlyn’s unresolved feelings about Chris, Kaitlyn did not want to hear any more about Chris pining for her. She had to steer this conversation back to where she wanted it.

  “You say I am a Sanguine Mage. How will that affect me?”

  George focused his attention back on Kaitlyn. “You were born with the Talent. It has always affected you. Sanguine Magi are a very rare Talent. There are only a handful born to each generation and they keep to themselves. Not much is truly known about what their powers are capable of.”

  “So, I’ll still be me?” Kaitlyn asked just to be sure that was what George was telling her.

  “Sanguine or ‘Blood’ Magi tend to be emotional people. If they were living in a community completely populated by straights, they would never know they had a Talent. Sanguine Magi need the blood from another mage to bring their Talent alive. They draw and amplify the ‘magical’ power inherent in the blood and shape and use it to whatever suits their needs. The more powerful the blood donor is, the more powerful the Sanguine Mage is.”

  Kaitlyn’s nose screwed up at this.

  “You mean I have to touch blood to make my powers work?”

  George nodded, and again let his eyes sweep around the empty office space,

  “Yes. You need to have skin contact with fresh, warm flowing blood from a magi donor.”

  “Yuck!” Kaitlyn shook her hand as she spoke. It was then that she noticed that her hand, the hand that had clung to George, was spotless. There was not a speck of his blood anywhere on her skin.

  “You absorbed it into you. Your Talent consumes it, cleansing you of the bloods taint.”

  George must have noticed her interest in her hand. Kaitlyn nodded, biting her lower lip.

  “So, what you’re telling me is that if I want to be able to make use of my Talent, I need to be near a mage who just happens to be bleeding and who is willing to let me drain him of blood and power?”

  “That is about the gist of it.”

  George turned to walk to the other side of the room as if that was the end of the conversation.

  Kaitlyn had other ideas.

  “Why did Richard ask if I was bonded to you?”

  George stopped and turned back to look at her.

  “When a Sanguine first Awakens, there is a ‘bond’ formed with the mage donor.”

  “A bond?” Kaitlyn prompted when George looked as if he was not going to continue.

  He sighed. Kaitlyn watched the black cloth of his coat flutter as he moved uncomfortably on his feet.

  “As a Sanguine Mage, you can use any magi blood to ignite your Talent. In my case, however, since my blood and Talent was the catalyst to activate your abilities, an affinity is created. Whenever you use my blood, your Talent will be at its strongest.”

  “Wow.” Kaitlyn was stunned as the flood of information she had received. Out of all the information rolling around in her mind, one thought kept popping to the forefront.

  “That would make us a logical pair. It looks like you are now going to be my permanent partner.”

  George shrugged.

  “That is up to Wheeler to decide, though that will most likely be his decision.”

  “Why was Richard upset about it?”

  “Who knows what upsets a Tempestus Mage,” George muttered. “Kaitlyn, we really need to finish searching this floor and report our findings back to Wheeler.”

  “Yes, of course George.”

  The question and answer session had definitely ended. George had shut himself off.

  Then they both got down to the business of the floor clearance. The result was as Kaitlyn expected. They found nothing of interest except for two empty offices and a large vacant warehouse stock room. If there had been anything of interest here, David would not have sent them.

  Once they were back in the corridor George placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “I will go and report to Wheeler. I would like for you to wait for me back at the van.”

  “Why?”

  George looked about to say something but stopped himself. He then gave her a strained smile.

  “I want you to tell Chris and Mark what has happened tonight. Especially with you.” He paused, and the strained smile suddenly looked normal.

  “I then want you to scare the life out of Mark by threatening to use Chris’s blood against him.”

  Kaitlyn raised a disbelieving eyebrow. That did not sound like George. She knew he was only saying that to keep her out of harm’s w
ay. Plus, it sounded like a fun thing to do.

  “Yes, George.”

  “Very good. I will not be long.” He then disappeared through the stairwell door, leaving Kaitlyn very much alone for the first time tonight.

  She still held her Sig Sauer in her hand and as she stepped out through the side door, she holstered it. Kaitlyn started walking back in the direction the van was parked.

  A footstep echoed behind her.

  She spun. There was nothing there, but the sound of the supposed footstep still echoed. Had the thing that made that sound been human or animal, or was it all her imagination?

  She glanced over her shoulder. There was no sign of anyone. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and then crossed her arms. There was nothing there; her mind was playing tricks on her. Kaitlyn turned and continued walking.

  Another footstep sounded. She jumped, staring at the night silent street and buildings. A shadow stirred. Her stomach twisted, and she licked her suddenly dry lips.

  Something was moving, and she had no intention of hanging around to see what it was.

  She headed back down the street. There was a rustle to her left, and then something small and brown darted out near her feet. She bit back a yelp and jumped away, her heart thumping loud enough to wake the dead.

  The furry form scurried off across the street and disappeared down a storm water drain. A rat, she thought in relief. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and grinned at her foolishness. Thank Heavens David was not around to see her so jumpy.

  The footstep sounded behind her, and Kaitlyn’s heart rate leaped again. She hesitated, and then saw the thin, pink tail of another rat as it ran away.

  “Disgusting rodents,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. It kept her mind from wanting to reach for her gun.

  “I do hope you are talking about the rats.”

  She spun around, her heart in her mouth and a startled cry caught somewhere in her throat. She had been right. Someone other than rats was walking the streets with her.

  The dirty street preacher stepped out of the shadows of the building, blue eyes gleaming with triumphant malice. “I object to being called a rodent. I try to be so much more.”

  Kaitlyn backed away. She tried to scream again to get any agent’s attention by activating her throat mike, but no sound came out of her fear frozen throat. Magic had silenced it. She spun again, but the preacher jumped forward and caught her arm. His fingers dug down deep into her flesh and jerked her backwards.

  “Don’t run. I have so much fun planned for us,” he said, then leaned forward, brushing a kiss across her right ear. A crackle told her that somehow her mike and ear piece was now disabled.

  She shuddered and swung her fist. He caught it with his free hand and laughed. It was a hollow, cruel sound. Force was something that seemed to excite some men. Panic stirred the embers in her soul to life, burning through her veins. She kicked out, struggling against his grip.

  Something cold and hard touched her throat. “Stop fighting,” he warned, “or I’ll cut your throat from ear to ear.”

  He smelled of stale sweat, dirt and death. Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed heavily. Being sick would not help her cause right now, though the thought of vomiting all over the Preacher was certainly appealing.

  “Let me go,” she clenched her fist, upset that she had let herself be so easily caught after everything that had happened to her today.

  The Preacher laughed, a soft sound that sent chills running up her spine, then clamped a callused hand over her mouth.

  “Can’t do that. But the Good Lord has a friend of mine that he would like you to meet.”

  Don’t do anything foolish.

  That thought kept flashing through Kaitlyn’s head as she felt a tickle of power ripple around them, and suddenly the street and the warehouses disappeared from her sight.

  CHAPTER

  NINETEEN

  ◆◆◆

  Kaitlyn felt the ground under her feet before her mind told her she had arrived. The thick stench of The Preacher was in her nostrils and she could feel the weight of his arm on her shoulder and the cold tingling sensation of the knife still pressed against her neck.

  She opened her eyes and found herself in a contained room. A single incandescent bulb shone down over a door to her right and was the only lighting source for this place. Before she could look around, the Preacher’s arm tugged at her as he called out.

  “I’m back. I have her.”

  “I see that,” said a voice behind them. Kaitlyn’s heart sank as she recognized it. She had heard it this morning. In the ladies bathroom.

  The Preacher swung around, pulling her along with him. Kaitlyn tried to keep her head back, to keep the pressure of the knife from her neck as they moved. She did not want to be cut by that filthy blade.

  “Hello Remy,” Kaitlyn said as they circled to a halt.

  Leaning against the back wall was the blonde woman from this morning. Her hair was a little mussed up and she now had on a white tank top instead of the business shirt. Her right shoulder was covered in a dressing held in place with wads of medical tape. A small amount of fresh blood had seeped through to the top.

  “No one said you could talk. You just need to listen, so keep your ears open,” Remy spat back. Her fury seethed in her every breath, and Kaitlyn could see the muscles in her neck stand out as she talked.

  She was either in a lot of pain, or really pissed off.

  “You are going to pay for this-” Remy’s thumb jerked hard at her injured shoulder. “-and I am going to make you regret every moment that you have lived on this earth by the time I have finished playing with you. No one gets away with touching me. No one.”

  Kaitlyn felt the knife relax away from her neck as The Preacher shifted his stance.

  “The boss said that this girl was not to be killed.” The Preachers voice sounded loud in Kaitlyn’s ear.

  Remy’s attention swung to the preacher. “I did not ask for your input, you Neanderthal.”

  Kaitlyn felt the Preacher’s grip on her stiffen as Remy’s insult flowed past them. The Preacher’s stale sweat smell was now being made worse by the new sweat that Kaitlyn could feel dripping onto her neck. She tried to turn her face away out of the direct line of the smell, but it did not work. The smell seemed to follow her, as did the man’s breath.

  “The Boss has made it very clear that no one is to harm this girl.”

  “But the Boss isn’t here though, is he?” Remy said with a smile that Kaitlyn supposed was meant to be soothing but looked to her like a fanged ferret about to charge down a rabbit hole.

  The Preacher must have felt the same way as Kaitlyn suddenly felt his arm slip away and the hand holding the knife disappeared. She stayed still as she heard the man take a few steps back behind her, keeping her as a shield between him and Remy.

  “You’ll regret this. The Boss does not forgive insubordination.”

  “My, such a big word for such a little man. Why don’t you run along back to your owner and roll around at his feet like the kicked puppy you are?”

  “You’ll pay for those words. Mark my words-”

  The Preacher’s voice was cut off as Remy’s retort sliced into his.

  “Just run back to your Master and tell him what is happening. No matter what he does, he’ll be too late to stop it.”

  Kaitlyn did not turn back as she heard the Preacher’s footsteps retreat from the room. She kept her eyes steady on the blatant threat in front of her. There was no sound of a closing door, so at least a way out was still open to Kaitlyn if she needed it.

  Remy did nothing to stop the smelly little man from leaving. Her eyes just watched him leave and then turned their attention back on Kaitlyn.

  “And now that leaves just you and me alone to resolve our differences.”

  “I don’t have any differences to resolve with you. I think we came out fair and square this morning. I hit you and you hit me.” Kaitlyn shook her
hair to make the gauze stuck to her forehead easier to see. “And the two of us are not dead. I think that’s a win/win for us both.”

  Remy’s face hardened. “If you think that that superficial scratch on your head is equal to the hole you put in my shoulder, then you have another thing coming.” Remy took a step forward as she spoke, “To be wounded by a straight like you is worse than humiliating. The best I can do is to make an example of you to deter others from thinking that they can do the same thing.”

  “An example?” Kaitlyn did not like the sound of that and slowly began to step backwards towards the still open door.

  A cruel smile tugged at the corners of Remy’s lips and she looked at Kaitlyn as if she was a tiger about to pounce on its prey.

  “Yes, an example. An example that will make even the strongest Talents think twice before coming up against me!”

  Kaitlyn tried to hide her gulp of fear when she heard Remy’s words. This woman was truly insane! No wonder the rest of the Team was worried about her being on the loose and hunting one of them down. Now Kaitlyn thought that they were not worried nearly enough. She took another slow step back towards the door.

  “I am going to send you back to your friends in tiny, mangled, unrecognizable little pieces so that all they will need is a four by four box to bury you in.” Remy took a slow step towards her while mumbling under her breath.

  An unseen force pressed down hard on Kaitlyn’s shoulders, and then she felt herself being jerked forward. She fell heavily onto the concrete floor and felt the air whoosh from her lungs. And Kaitlyn felt the force again on her back like a board had been laid down the length of her body and was then sat on by a four hundred pound gorilla.

  Kaitlyn turned her head to keep an eye on Remy, who was staring down at her with that awful smile of hers

  “This is what happens when you play in a world that you are not equipped for. You should never have shot me.”

  Movement suddenly caught the edge of Kaitlyn’s vision and she turned her gaze down towards her feet. There she saw two swirling black pillars of smoke coalescing quickly near the open door. Remy seemed not to notice. All her attention was focused on Kaitlyn.