Blood & Magic

by George Barlow

  “What do you really think Wade wants the fifth blood for? I mean, what could he do with it?”

  “To make more third orders? Although given the fact that one of them-”

  “Adrianna. I’m not scared of her bloody name,” Ruth interrupted.

  “Ok then. Given Adrianna wants to kill Wade, why would he want more like her?”

  Meyer looked to the files laid on the nearby table, the word 'Potential' just visible in the firelight as flames danced in the whiskey glass next to it. Who would they go to on the council? Meyer knew them all pretty well but, as much as he trusted the likes of Robin or Ione, they had little sway over things. Oberon. Meyer was sure he could trust him, he would take the evidence and Grendal himself to Oberon, let him cope with Wade.

  “What about the man who spoke to Sabrina?” Ruth said.

  “She delayed him by, what, six months? We have that long to find him and kill him. Sabrina will be our first clue as to where he is, I will enter her mind and find out.”

  “There aren’t many of the five he could have been is there? If it is him, how could he have survived this long?”

  “Grendal and Adrianna have, why not the others?”

  “I don’t like any of this, something doesn’t add up here Meyer, and it doesn’t end there. Rosalyn got back to me about that thing you found in Wade's office, she will drop it round tomorrow. She said its a thingy that will activate physical magus in a human, said it was unlike anything she has seen before, she couldn’t even be sure of all the things it was made of.”

  Meyer smiled at her.

  “She may have said all that with a few more technical sounding words, but you get the gist,” Ruth said.

  “I do. Making humans alternates? Why would Helena do-”

  A mentalist's sight is something akin to radar, but far more descriptive of the people it meets. That is, except if those people have had blocking training or are in fact mentalists themselves, in which case they appear as a blur of consciousness. It was sensing two groups of such blurs, approaching in what must have been vans given the closeness of them and their speed as they came to a stop simultaneously at the front and back of the house, that brought a pause to his words.

  “Ruth, we have company. Get out of here,” Meyer said.

  Ruth stood up and raised her hands in front of her, making small circular motions with each wrist, whispering something under her breath.

  “Twelve of them, seven at the front, five at the back. All strong life forces, if I were to guess, I would say they were all-”

  “Inquisitors.”

  He could sense that fact, not only were the mental signatures of the people that approached the house blurred, but the amount of blurring increased as individually they cycled through their powers, coming to a rest on Mentalism.

  “You need to run,” Meyer said.

  “I'm not going anywhere.”

  There was an explosion, the sound of splintering wood coming from the front and back doors at the same time. Meyer rose from his chair and threw his walking stick to Ruth.

  “Thanks my dear,” she said.

  Inquisitors sent to kill them, or just to capture them? He imagined he would find out soon, his only real regret was that Ruth was here. She deserved to be safe, he had never wanted her to get mixed up in this.

  The gentle sound of footsteps converged on the room and through the door to the library walked a group of figures in dark clothes, their weapons just visible beneath their long coats.

  “Meyer, you are under arrest for treason. You will comply or be detained by force,” a woman's voice said from his side, although he didn't recognise it.

  Meyer looked to Ruth, who was tightening her grip on the stick. They weren't going to go peacefully. He built up his power in his mind, taking as much as he thought would be needed and looked to Ruth, giving her the slightest of smiles.

  “Obliterate,” Meyer said.

  His mental projection flew towards the woman. Around her consciousness was a fortress of defences, but Meyer was throwing a hurricane at a sandcastle, she had no real protection. She fell to her knees, slumping to the floor unconscious as the rest of the group charged at them.

  Meyer focused his power for another attack and aimed at the man closest to him, who went down with a satisfying thud. Two were on Ruth and from the corner of Meyer's eye, he could see her fighting off their attacks. Ruth moved too quickly for them, however tides change and it wasn’t long before they found a far easier target. Meyer.

  He was not going to be quick enough to dodge them, that much was obvious, but there was another trick available to him. Charging his magus up, he released it.

  “Tempus.”

  Meyer let a pulse of magus leave his body, a spell meant to startle his attackers, slow their mental movements and give Ruth precious moments to attack. Six or seven of them staggered back, their minds overcome, but the rest did not. Meyer saw the gun rise and fire not once, but four times. The plasma was hot on his skin as the stunner took its effect. His body was forced into unconsciousness. Even with all his power he could not stop it. He fell to the floor, like a felled tree and as he did so, glimpsed Ruth rushing towards him. A second later, Meyer heard his stick clatter to the floor.

  They had lost.

  - Chapter 41 -

  And then things got worse

  Henry left Meyer’s house, his mind a daze with theories and myth. He could count the people he could trust on one hand, and even some of those he was unsure of, having only known them for a span of days. Looking to his phone, Henry had expected a message from Gabriel, but there wasn’t one. He had gone to collect Henry’s stuff from his flat to Mark's house, under order of Meyer. Henry dialled Gabriel’s number and waited as the ringing chime repeated over and over, but there was no answer. Odd. Deciding the most likely out of the two possibilities of where he would be, Henry headed to the house. Gabriel was probably already helping himself to the whiskey.

  The underground was quiet at that time of night and Henry found himself there within half an hour, something that would have been impossible merely hours earlier in the five o’clock rush. Entering the house, Henry knew something was wrong. Gabriel was nowhere to be found, but more concerning was the fact none of Henry's stuff was either - Gabriel hadn't been here at all. He tried his phone again, but the same repeated tones greeted him, never to be answered. Where was he?

  Five minutes later, Henry was back on the tube at Baker Street, taking the Jubilee line down to Bond Street and then the Central line across the Bank.

  Leaving the station, Henry's phone rang and he answered it immediately.

  “Gabriel?”

  “Who's Gabriel?” a female voice said, it was Elle.

  “Oh… sorry. I was expecting a call from... A friend. Everything alright?”

  “Does something have to be wrong for me to want to talk to you?” Elle said and Henry could tell she was smiling.

  “No, of course not.”

  Henry approached the door of the flats and rang the buzzer for his own apartment. There was no answer. He tried again.

  “So, I am having a house party tonight,” Elle said.

  Damn. Where was this leading? Was she going to invite him, wasn't she? The idea of that many people all trying to have fun and him being a bore in the midst of it all sent Henry’s chest thumping.

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “And I was wondering if…”

  Damn! Why couldn’t he just relax around people, enjoy the things normal people enjoyed. Henry reached for his keys, but realised that he didn’t have them, having given them to Gabriel.

  “...you fancied coming along? It should be good fun,” Elle said.

  “Oh, well, I…”

  “You have plans?”

  Henry fumbled through the equipment until he found the multi-tool device, waving it across the entry system until the door beeped open. That thing was going to be infinitely useful.

  “I said do you have plans?” Elle
said.

  “No, but…”

  “So you’ll come? You know my address?”

  “I do, but actually, I’m going to have to pass.”

  “Why?”

  That was a very good question. How could he phrase this.

  “I’m alright thanks.”

  “Alright with what? Not sure that made sense.”

  She was right, it didn’t. Damn it. Why would she even want him there?

  “I’m not in the mood, some other time?”

  “You always say that.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do. You never come out and you always promise you’ll go next time, but then you never actually do. It’s an effort to get you to come for a drink with me and Dixie. What’s wrong Henry, don’t you like our company?”

  Henry stepped into the lift and took a deep sigh, what the hell could he say?

  “I do, I’m just not really a party kind of guy.”

  “Oh.”

  He had been, although he was a different person back then. What was he doing with his life? Henry punched the elevator wall with his fist, the pain easing his anger for a moment.

  “Well, part of the reason I wanted you to come was… Oh, it doesn’t matter.”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “It isn’t important.”

  “Oh come on, tell me.”

  “Because I wanted to talk to you, properly. Drink always helps you speak more freely.”

  That was true, drink did help. The only problem was, in order to get to a situation where he could half relax, Henry had to consume such a large amount, it was both a danger to his health and his wallet. He had to drink and keep drinking, which resulted in his body for the next few days being quite a hostile place to inhabit. He hated to have to do it in the first place, it made him feel stupid and weak, so he had taken to avoiding the process at all costs.

  The elevator doors closed and the lift growled into action.

  “What about?”

  “Just about choices. I don’t know Henry, I feel you keep so much hidden, I want to know the real you.”

  She really didn’t want to know the real him. Henry hated knowing the real him and he wasn’t going to put that uncomfortable burden on anyone else.

  “I want to talk to you, and I want you to feel you can talk to me, about anything. You see-”

  The elevator doors opened. Along the corridor, all of the lights were off and as the doors of the elevator chimed shut behind him, Henry was left in complete darkness. His heart pounded, beating in his ears - the situation was an all too familiar one.

  “I’ve got to go,” Henry said, ending the call.

  He picked up the multitool again and activated the torch, harsh white light cutting through the darkness around him. Nervously, he moved the torch up and down the corridor.

  Christ, he had just hung up on Elle. She was trying to get through to him, heck she wanted to speak to him and he had put a stop to that. He was such an arse sometimes, although for once, his reason for escaping had been a genuine one.

  Henry moved along the carpeted floor towards his apartment, fumbling for his gun. Focusing his magus, it activated with a buzz as he gripped the handle tightly, pointing the weapon ahead of him. For a moment, he stood beside his front door, which was ajar, and pondered what they usually do next in the movies. Henry took a deep breath and slowly pushed the door fully open.

  He tried the switch, but the light didn’t turn on, the single room which comprised of his living and dining area remaining dark and still. Too still. Every movement of a car outside caused shadows to run across the walls, like rats scurrying through a sewer. Henry kept his back to the door, scanning in front of him as he moved further in. The living room had been ransacked, chairs overturned and his glass table shattered. He shone the torch on the fragmented pieces scattered across the floor and noticed the distinct colour of blood decorating the shards. Moving left and towards the kitchen, Henry kept the gun trained on the middle of the room. He prayed his training would work when he needed it to, that all of Ruth’s efforts hadn’t been made in vain.

  The kitchen was untouched, a microwavable meal still sitting on the counter, it’s packaging stuck to the worktop. There was a creak from behind him and Henry spun round, but he couldn’t see anything. His stomach ground to a halt, as nervous butterflies lay dead in that moment of silence. Henry surveyed the rest of the room, clutching the gun tightly between his palm and fingers, a layer of sweat building between them, the grip slipping ever so slightly.

  One foot gently placed in front of the other and avoiding the remnants of tables, papers and pictures that lay in pieces around his feet, Henry moved across the living room. Everything he owned had been destroyed. They had been looking for something, but what? Henry moved toward the bedroom door, which was half open and, filling his lungs with as much air as they could take, Henry kicked the door wide open and shone the light across the room. To the right of the bed, Henry saw a pair of legs lying motionless on the floor. Gabriel. Henry found himself having to fight himself not to run to him, for all he knew, the attacker was still here.

  Henry had seen the crime photos, Grendal’s victims never knew he was coming, he moved too fast, without noise, without warning. If Grendal had killed his father, what chance did Henry have against him? Something brushed against his shoulder. Henry span round and fired the weapon into the darkness, the room revealed in bursts of bright blue light, but the flat was empty. Had he imagined that? Henry turned back to the bedroom as a pair of blue eyes flew towards him with impossible speed, rising into the air before landing on his chest, hard. Henry’s arms flew up to defend himself, but he wasn’t quick enough. As he fell, the gun flew from his grip, turning back into a solid metal box as it hit the floor, its connection to Henry’s magus lost.

  The weight on Henry’s chest increased as they hit the floor, a gown of black cloth falling over his body as the blue eyes stared unblinking, inches from his own. He could not make out any other features, hypnotised through fear as fingers closed around his neck. Henry frantically tried to move his arms to defend himself, but they were pinned. This was the last thing Mark had seen before he died, it was the only part of the memory that clung with Henry and now he was witnessing it again, first hand. Henry felt his body go numb, his limbs becoming as heavy as lead. With no air to breath, no way to resist, this was it, this was how it ended.

  It seemed like an hour, but was in fact, it can only have been minutes that Henry lay unconscious. He awoke gasping for breath, life more like a dream than reality. He struggled to sit up, clawing himself across the room to Gabriel’s side. He was still breathing. Neon blue light poured in through the windows as the ambulance finally arrived. Surrounded by paramedics, Henry was pushed aside as they lifted Gabriel’s limp body, scarred with cuts and bruises, onto to a stretcher. Reaching the hospital, Gabriel was wheeled along sterile corridors and taken out of sight into ITU, leaving Henry behind in the corridor.

  He had been in the same room as Grendal, but had survived. For some reason, Grendal had let him live. Henry sat alone in the waiting room, at least that was how he felt amongst the crowd of faceless people. More alone than he had ever been. His guardian, his ally, and perhaps even his friend, was fighting for his life in a nearby room and there was nothing Henry could do to help.

  This had to end. Tonight.

  - Chapter 42 -

  Records

  “What the hell happened?” Alex said.

  Alex had been found, or so she had been told, laying on the ground by a row of stalls. She remembered chasing the suspect, but then things had become a bit of a blur. When Alex came to in the arms of Dimitri, he had tried to call an ambulance for her, but of course she had refused and the pair returned to the station.

  “I don’t know, you were ahead of us. We got held up in the crowds and then you disappeared. We searched around for ages before we found you. You don’t remember what happened? You’ve got a massive bruise on
your face babe, did he hit you?” Dimitri said.

  “I imagine so, how else would I have got that?” Alex said.

  When they had got back to the station, Alex had examined herself in the bathroom and found small red blotches across her chest. They looked like old burn scars, although her clothes showed no signs of damage. What was odd, was how the metal clasp around the topaz stone of her silver pendant has loosened. It was if it had heated up and she had a corresponding red mark from the metal on her chest.

  “I’m fine. I could have sworn that I saw Alice, but that’s impossible. Guess he must have hit me pretty hard,” Alex said.

  “Or you tripped in the chase, you really should go to A&E,” Dimitri said.

  “I’m not going. Has there been no sign of him?”

  “Uniforms lost him after you led the chase, no sightings since,” Drew said.

  “Damn it,” Alex said.

  The crowd around Alex parting like the red sea and through the gap Alex saw Nick enter the office, his broad shoulders filling the doorway.

  “Detective Inspector Stroud, how are you feeling?” Nick said.

  “I’m-” Alex began to say, before Nick cut her off.

  “Can you explain to me the search your partner had put on a nameless IC1?” Nick said.

  “Yes, he was a-”

  “An unknown male who stabbed one of the constables chasing him and then disappeared, apparently without trace?”

  “Dad, listen. He was a suspect in the Greys Inn murder. We think he is the killer,” Alex said.

  “A suspect in a Greys Inn murder? The case you are not investigating?” Nick said, he voice completely void of emotion.

  “I have evidence that suggests he took the Greys Inn victim's body from the morgue, which by extension means he is most likely our killer.”

  “What evidence?”

  Alex removed the printed screenshot of the CCTV footage from her jacket pocket and passed it to Nick.

  “I don’t think you-” Nick paused, looking at the photograph. “Where is the original footage this was taken from?”