Crimes Against Magic (Hellequin Chronicles Book 1)

by Steve McHugh

  I shot a bolt of flame at Mordred's exposed side. He let out a cry of pain as it crashed into him, and the blade vanished, but he wasn't down for long. He threw a curve of blood magic, longer than my arm, at me. I rolled aside again, but it caught my leg and pain erupted across it. Blood magic doesn't contain any force as such, but it does trigger emotions and pain when touched. Visions of Mordred's attack on Arthur flashed through my head.

  "You never did learn how to control your emotions," Mordred said as he stalked toward me. "It's why you were never that great of a blood mage. You allowed petty feelings to enter the equation."

  I fought against the feeling of helplessness that raged throughout me. It was all I'd felt when I'd witnessed Mordred plunge a blood magic sword through Arthur's stomach. I hadn't been able to help my friend. Visions of Ivy replaced him. I would not fail her. Not now. Not ever.

  As I tried to force myself back to my feet, Mordred placed one of his hands on my shoulder. Another wave of pain started through me and he pushed me back to the floor, turning me over onto my back. He wanted to look into my eyes when he killed me. I let him move me, I had little choice in the matter, but when he was close enough I blocked out the pain for a fraction of a second and rammed my fist into his throat. He staggered back, and I kicked him in the stomach with everything I had.

  I'd bought myself a few seconds. I reached down inside me, allowing my own blood magic to feed on the emotion wracking my body. When I'd gathered enough, I turned to look at Mordred.

  Mordred's expression of pain and anger, gave way to fear. Pure and unadulterated. "Your... eyes," he stammered.

  Orange fire and black blood glyphs met across my body and a torrent of fire released from my hands raced toward Mordred. The blood magic had increased the fire's strength, turning it white hot. The stone floor scorched as flames touched it, moving too fast for him to avoid. He raised his hands, creating another shield of air, but the fire hit it with such ferocity that it turned the air into a wall of superheated agony, cooking whatever was closest to it.

  I kept the fire coming, pumping more and more into the room, continuing the barrage against Mordred's shield as his screams echoed throughout the hall. By the time I stopped, he was kneeling on the floor, his hands a raw mess of boiled skin and flesh. They'd been against the edge of the sphere he'd created.

  "You've crippled me," he shrieked.

  I should have just killed him right there, but I couldn't. Maybe he wasn't the only one who needed to stare into his enemy's face. I stalked toward him and he tried to get back to his feet and escape, but a quick blast of air to the back of his legs removed that option.

  He crashed back to the floor, coupled with more shrieking. He slowly got himself upright, using his knees and stood facing me. "You can kill me, but you'll never get to keep that girl. My employer will see to that."

  "You're done, Mordred. At least die with some honour." My mind roared at me to use magic, and I had to force myself to draw my silver Jian and step toward him, ready to deliver justice for all of those who'd died at his hands. But I stopped when a scream broke over me from Ivy's direction.

  "You'd better pick," he said with an air of smugness as he began to edge away from me. "Me or the girl. You don't have time to do both." He used my distraction to blast the sword from my hand with a gust of air. It made him scream in pain, but it had the desired effect as the sword clattered a dozen feet behind me.

  Retrieving the sword would have only taken a moment, but another scream sounded, making my decision for me. I turned and ran in that direction, destroying the door before I was even half-way there and not stopping as I leapt over its remains.

  The maze of corridors and rooms that lay beyond, including stairs both up and down, slowed me to a crawl. But a third scream, this one cut off, pinpointed the direction I needed to go.

  I took a set of stone stairs two at a time running to the floor above, where I found Thomas, now in human form, lying on the bare floor. Blood tricked down the back of his neck and over his shoulder. I stopped beside him and hastily tried for a pulse, finding it weak but steady. I searched the rest of the floor, but found only broken furniture and blood.

  By the time I'd returned to Thomas, dread had settled in my stomach like an anvil. "I couldn't stop them," Thomas said.

  "Who did this? Where did they go?"

  Thomas shook his head, wincing with the movement. "They attacked from behind as we looked through the rooms for prisoners. A man with long dark hair took Ivy. I crawled from the next room over, but by the time I got here she was gone."

  "They used silver. Hurt a werewolf with enough of it and he'll change back." I helped Thomas to a seated position against one of the doors. "Which way did they go?"

  Thomas pointed down the hallway. "I blacked out just as they reached the door."

  I took off down the hall and through the door, only to find a massive hole in the side of the empty room beyond. I scanned the rolling fields below me and saw nothing. No trace of Ivy or the man who had taken her. I'd failed and that had allowed Mordred's companions to take her. "I will find you," I bellowed into the open, allowing my magic to take the words as far as possible. The last words I said were a whisper. "I promise."

  Chapter 36

  London, England. Now.

  The second the gas had hit me, I knew I wasn't going to wake up in anything resembling a good place. People don't gas you so they can give you something nice in return.

  So, after opening my eyes, I wasn't exactly surprised to find myself in the same room I'd been knocked out in. I'd been shackled to a table. The table was made of wood with two thick, silver manacles at each end, housing my hands and feet. The feet weren't a problem, the fact that they'd left my shoes and socks on meant the manacles couldn't rub against my bare skin, but my hands were positioned up above my head, causing one of my arms to go to sleep. It wasn't the most comfortable position I'd ever been in, and I tried to rotate my shoulder a little to get some of the feeling back into it.

  "Don't try to escape," a man said as he entered the room. He had my complete attention. He was about my height, but without my broad shoulders and chest, and wore a very expensive gray suit. He carried a walking stick, black wood with a chrome lion's head on top, but didn't use it to walk. Mordred's sword cane flashed in my head, this was probably something similar. Or maybe he was just a pretentious prick who carried a walking stick that he didn't need. The jury was still out.

  The man moved a chair from the far wall and placed it just out of arm's reach beside me. "It's been a while. You look well."

  "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

  The man smiled—a thin evil smile that never reached his eyes. "You used to, yes."

  "You're the man in charge of all this," I said. "My lord as everyone seems to call you. Do you have a proper name?"

  "My lord will do for now," he said with an air of smug satisfaction. "I'd almost given up searching for you. I assumed you'd been killed. And then I get a call saying some little thug is looking for information about you. It was like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one."

  "Must have been a busy day for you," I said. "You do know I came here voluntarily? Why the restraints?"

  "Oh, those," he said as if he'd only just noticed them. "We didn't want you to try and leave, and you're only here to save people's lives. Did you think we'd just give you back all your memories and then you'd escape?" He moved closer to me. "You have no idea what's going on."

  I turned my head and stared directly into his eyes, they were soulless, utterly without compassion or feeling. A shiver went down my spine. "You want the Fates," I said and enjoyed the twitch at the side of his mouth as my words annoyed him. "The whole bit about Welkin's research, well that's important to you, but it's not what you really want. I took the Fates from you, and you want them back."

  The man sat back in his chair. "I'm impressed. Although that's not entirely true. I want the Fates back, mostly to kill them as a way to show what happens to th
ose who betray me. What you have in that brain of yours... is how to make more." He tapped the side of my head with the steel tip of his walking stick. "When you stole Welkin's notes on how to create Harbingers, you also stole my notes on how to create the Fates."

  I laughed. I couldn't help it. "I think you're going to be disappointed. I burned those notes so you couldn't get them. So if you want what's in my head, you'll have to unlock my memories."

  The man stood and whispered in my ear. "Not all of them, I won't."

  I was about to tell him what he could do with himself, when I was interrupted by a young man entering the room. He wore a white lab coat over a black t-shirt and dark combats. His long blonde hair, and three-day-old stubble, looked more at home on a surfer than a scientist. But he wasn't the person I was interested in. My gaze was purely for Jenny who stood by the door, her arms crossed over her chest. Bruises covered her exposed shoulders, running up her neck, and she had one nasty looking cut just above her eye, where stitches had been applied to hold the wound closed.

  I pulled at the restraints. The man in the grey suit smiled. "I am a man of my word," he said. "You have ten minutes, and then my psychic friend here rips the information I need from your mind, and then we kill you." He walked over to Jenny and touched her cheek, she flinched, but he grabbed her by the jaw, holding her for a second before pushing her over to me. "Say good-bye." And then he left, taking the psychic surfer with him.

  "Nate," Jenny whispered.

  "Are you okay?" I asked. "I know, stupid question."

  She lifted the bottom of her black top to show three cuts along her stomach. I'd seen something similar before, and knew exactly what they were. "How bad is the gargoyle venom?"

  Jenny lowered her top and rubbed the back of one hand with the other. "About six hours before my organs start shutting down. I'll be dead in eight."

  "They said you could go free."

  She nodded. "Death is their version of setting me free. They only let me talk to you because they want to watch you suffer."

  "Do you know how Dani and Samantha are?"

  "Safe," she said. "They won't hurt either of them. But you'll never see them again."

  I nodded. "I thought they would unlock my past. And since Mordred isn't about to come help me out, I'm stuffed."

  Jenny shook her head and moved closer to me. "There's a third way."

  That got my attention. "Why didn't the Fates mention it to me?"

  "I don't know. But it's the only way you'll get your past back, and get out of here with Dani and Samantha."

  "So what is it?"

  Jenny tenderly touched my cheek. "I want you to know something," she said. "I really liked our time together. It made me feel normal."

  "Me too," I said. "What's the third way, Jenny?"

  She walked over to the door, picked up a chair and smashed the metal leg into the door's control panel. "That should give us some time," she said and walked back toward me, kissing me gently on the mouth. A grating sound started, coming from the side of the table, but it didn't last for long as the kiss intensified and she grasped the sides of my head in her hands. I returned the passion, and suddenly, without warning, memories exploded in my head.

  I tried to yell out, unaware of what was happening, as more and more memories came into the forefront of my mind. But the kiss intensified once more, unlocking chunks of my past with every heartbeat. I moved my head slightly, noticing dark marks on Jenny's wrist and forearm. Another memory exploded, giving me instant knowledge of what it meant.

  The third way of unlocking memories was for a non-human to use their own life energy to break the blood magic. The mass of runes on Jenny's wrists and forearms were there to help that along. Rudimentary magic that used in one very specific way could remove a blood magic curse by sacrificing someone who wasn’t human.

  I locked eyes with Jenny and screamed for her to stop, but it was muffled by her lips. I bucked and moved, trying to break the kiss, or her hands, now firmly planted on either side of my head. But it was no use. More memories came and went, bringing every emotion with them. The birth and death of people I cared about were relived over and over.

  Tears fell from Jenny's eyes, landing on my face in a steady stream. I tried to break free, to stop her from sacrificing herself for my sake. There was banging and yelling from the other side of the broken door and I wanted to tell her that we could get her the cure and that we could save her life, but it was useless. Jenny's strength began to wane and she sagged against me, the kiss finally breaking as her head dropped onto my chest. "You shouldn't have done that," I said breathlessly. "You didn't need to."

  "I wanted... wanted my life to have meant something," she said. "Amongst all the death... death I caused. I needed to know you got those girls to safety."

  I couldn't find the words to describe what Jenny had done. My mind was still processing everything I'd seen. And in the end only one thing came through. "I will never forget what you did."

  Jenny released her hands and moved her head slowly, planting one last kiss on my lips. "I cut the table's runes."

  Information flashed through my head. The runes had been blocking my use of magic. "Thank you."

  Jenny whispered her final request into my ear, so quietly that I could barely make out the words. Then she slumped onto my chest and died as a half dozen people rushed toward us, dragging her off me.

  "Fucking bitch," the grey suited man said and delivered a swift kick to Jenny's lifeless body.

  He turned his attention to me, his eyes full of fire and rage. I returned the stare dispassionately. "Hello, Mordred," I said. "It's been a while."

  Chapter 37

  Jenny's body was dragged from the room by two scientists, as everyone else ran around like headless chickens. Mordred stood and stared at me with an expression of rage. I winked at him. He'd be dead soon enough, so it wasn't like he would be able to hold his grudge for too much longer. Jenny's final request rang in my ears – Make them pay. I smiled. That was going to be my pleasure.

  The table I was on was hoisted upright so that I was against the far wall, looking down on everyone whilst they went to work. "What are you actually doing?" I asked after one of the scientists took blood from me. She was shaking so hard, she missed the vein twice. I offered to do it for her if she wasn't competent enough.

  "We want to make sure you survive the questioning process," Mordred said. "Don't want you to be allergic to something, or immune to others. We figured testing your blood first would be a good idea. And since whatever that bitch did seems to have restored your memories, this process should be much easier.”

  "Good luck with that," I said with a smile. "You do know I'm going to kill you?"

  Mordred laughed, making everyone in the room stop what they were doing. They probably didn't hear his laugh too often. He never had been the jovial type. "You're chained to a rune covered table with silver manacles. You're not going anywhere except to an incinerator once we've discarded your useless body."

  "Let me guess, you want to turn Dani and Samantha into Fates. Young ones too, although you'll need a third. A past Fate."

  "We already have one." He clicked his fingers and the mystery woman from the phone calls entered the room. "She spent so much time trying to hide Dani and Samantha. We figured it'd be only right that they never be separated again."

  "You're a psychic?" I asked her, but she looked away.

  Mordred lifted her top to show the dark blood magic marks on her stomach. "She's already undergone part of the process. And as Dani and Samantha are her daughters, it should be easier to convert them than it was with Cassandra and her granddaughter, Ivy."

  I cursed myself for not figuring it out sooner, that the mystery woman was Dani and Samantha's mother.

  "You're back to helping this asshole because he threatened your daughters." The memory of Ivy bringing me and Cassandra tea, shot into the forefront of my mind. I’d been unable to keep Ivy from Mordred’s clutches once, but now they were s
afe. And I would make sure they stayed that way.

  Mordred took exception to my description of him and slammed his walking stick into my ribs. I winced, but forced a smile through, angering him even more. "You always were a shitty sorcerer," I said with a laugh and noticed that once more the room had gone silent. So, still a sore point.

  "I don't need to be a great sorcerer to kill you," Mordred said with a smile. He turned to the scientist who had taken my blood. "The results. Now."

  She fumbled with a piece of paper, almost dropping it. "Preliminary results suggest that he's perfectly healthy. But we need to test it with blood magic. We started when he was unconscious, but it’ll be a few hours yet."

  Mordred sighed and back handed the scientist as if striking a gnat in the air. She tumbled to the ground, knocking a second scientist over. "You have one hour," Mordred said. "If it's not done by then, I'll slit your throat."

  The two scientists dusted themselves off and raced from the room.

  "You have to be firm with people," he said to me before turning to one of his people. "Remove his shirt."

  Almost immediately a white-coat-wearing Nazi cut through my t-shirt, ripping it from me.

  "Impressed?" I asked Mordred.

  He ignored the remark and stared at the six dark glyphs on my torso. "You have the same six that you've always had." He walked away and wrote on a piece of paper. "There’s no residual mark from what I did to you. It appears that those marks you have, protected you from further damage. It's something I wish I could have looked into a little further. But I have little time for fun these days."

  "My lord you need to see this," Surfer guy said as he continued to stare at my naked chest.

  "You'd better buy me lunch," I told him, but he didn't even glance up at me. "At least put a five in my belt."

  Mordred did as his crony asked, although it clearly pained him to do so, and raised an eyebrow as he examined the mark on my left pectoral. "It's fading," he said with an edge. "That bitch must have started a chain-reaction.” He spun back to the Surfer guy, who had wisely started to edge away. "You will drag those fucking memories out of his head right now, or I will make you beg me to kill you."