Blood & Magic

by George Barlow

  The Scottish detective was standing ready for him, armed only with a smug smile as he swept his arms in wide arcs, conjuring floating spheres of bright green energy, orbiting like moons around him. With a flick, three flaming balls of florescent green flew toward Henry.

  “Arma,” Henry said.

  The shots hit an invisible wall, the energy dissipating like a wave against a cliff. The Scottish one fired again, but Henry’s shield held fast. Now how was he going to retaliate?

  With a bang from the outside corridor, Tristan spun through the air, crashing into the Alesh and sending them both tumbling through a group of chairs. Henry rushed to Tristan’s side, discarding the broken pieces of chair aside. It didn't look like the 'Scottish one' was going anywhere soon.

  “Henry, run,” Tristan said.

  A moment later, Nick walked in, holding Jonny by the throat. He dropped him as if he were a discarded piece of meat, his body laying perfectly still and Henry could see why. Sticking out from Jonny’s chest was a long thin knife. Nick leant down and slowly withdrew the knife, wiping the blade on what remained of his bullet ripped shirt until it was clean.

  Tristan was still holding his gun and as Nick moved towards them, he fired shot after shot at his chest. Tristan didn’t look in the best shape, his dark trousers were gleaming with blood and his right eye was completely sealed shut. He couldn't do this alone, Henry needed to distract Nick so Tristan could recover. He would need to be at full strength if they were to stand any chance of surviving this.

  Charging towards Nick, Henry was fearless. He was hopelessly outmatched, but the combination of adrenaline and his genetic piloting removed any consideration of that fact. Suddenly reaching his target, Henry rolled across a table to his side, narrowly missing the blade as Nick struck out. Nick reacted quicker than Henry could, sweeping punches just catching his face, disorientating him as he dodged each strike. Then came the blow that did the most damage. Nick head butted Henry, as with his other hand, he caught the cable of the headphones. The phone and cables catapulted across the room and suddenly, Henry was very much back in the real world.

  In a blink, a solid punch hit Henry in the chest, his ribs making an audible snapping noise, as he tumbled across the nearby tabletop onto to the floor. He felt like he had been pinned under a bus, desperately grasping for air, but it did no good, the pressure increased with every breath.

  Henry grasped at his chest as his vision darkened, his body starved of oxygen. He was panicking but, for once in his life, Henry reckoned he had good reason to. Measured steps moved towards him, something calm about the movement, controlled. Like the tick of a clock, Nick was coming for him.

  - Chapter 46 -

  Answers

  The word screamed across the room as Henry felt a warm breeze sweep over him. It had become impossible to breath and, as the hand pressed against Henry’s chest, he was powerless to resist it. Resigned to die, Henry’s thoughts lay with Elle and all of the things he had wanted to tell her, but had never had the courage to. His only true chance of happiness had always been in reach, yet he had never been brave enough to fight for it.

  Another muttered word and Henry felt scorching heat across his chest, his skin bubbling and blistering in an agony that rivalled the collapse of his lungs. He let out a cry of pain and breathed hard. He breathed. The sweetest breath he had ever taken. Tristan was standing over him, blood pouring down from a cut above his eye, his focus trained across the room. His hand lay still on Henry’s chest as his healing magus continued to take effect.

  Tristan raised his knife at his side.

  “Good luck kid,” he said.

  Henry strained to sit up, turning to see Tristan sprint across the room. His target rose slowly from a stack of cinder blocks, smoke soaring up around him. Nick's jacket and shirt were burnt away, but as ever, his body remained unharmed. Tristan was on him before he had fully stood, plunging his knife repeatedly at his neck, but in one fluid and impossibly fast motion, Nick’s hand swiped out grabbing Tristan’s wrist. There was a snapping noise and a roar of pain, as the knife clattered to the floor. Nick pulled Tristan up off the ground, still holding his broken wrist, as he levelled punch after punch to Tristan’s chest. Henry tried to stand, to help in some way, but his body was not ready.

  Nick slammed Tristan’s body onto a table, the bones of his arm breaking and jolting from his skin with the impact. Circling his prey like a surgeon overlooking a corpse, Nick raised his conjoined fists above his head. He turned to Henry, shaking his head as a disappointed teacher pities a stupid pupil. In a swift motion, Nick drove his fists down onto Tristan’s chest. Blood erupted from his mouth like a volcano as Tristan choked on his own blood for a second, before his magus could fight no longer.

  “No!” Henry screamed.

  A smile lifted the corner of Nick’s mouth.

  Henry grabbed the knife from its sheath on his calf and held it out ahead of him. If he was going to die, then he would die fighting.

  “I should have thought about the mirrors when we entered the shop,” Nick said, his voice calm.

  “You are a murderer, all this time you have been covering up your crimes from within the police.”

  “There are advantages to leading the investigation into the murders you commit, you can ensure things go the way they need to go. I have lived for hundreds of years and have made the world a better place. I am not, however, a murderer.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Those I kill deserve to die. I represent order.”

  “You are a butcher. Why did Tristan deserve to die, or Jonny, or my father?”

  “Your father? You have been fooled into believing I was behind that? You must not be as smart as they made out.”

  “You killed my father, just like you did the others.”

  “No, I kill those who escape justice-”

  “Or those who cross you? What happened, did he find you out?”

  “No, he searched for me, but we made sure there were no links back to myself.”

  “We?”

  “I didn’t choose this life, it was chosen for me. When I was created, they decided I was an abomination, that all of my kind were no more than a failed experiment that needed destroying, so we fled. Whereas my brothers and sisters became consumed with rage, I knew that this had happened for a reason. Those who cannot be punished through the justice system will be judged all the same. As I said Henry, I make the world a better place.”

  “You are a liar.”

  Henry gathered his magus and shouted as loud as he could. ‘Iacto’. The knife he held shot like an arrow towards Nick. Just as it collided with him, Henry noticed how he visibly tensed, a shimmer of energy flicking across his body. The knife wasn’t quick enough, the metal buckling as it made contact with him. His power had protected him, like the books had said. When he focused, Grendal was unstoppable.

  “Now Henry, I need to talk to you.”

  “You killed my father.”

  “That is what I need to talk to you about.”

  Henry walked closer to Nick. He needed to be near enough so he could attack before Nick raised his defences.

  “You murdered my father,” Henry said.

  “No, someone tried to make it look like I did.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, your father was killed and the perpetrator made to look like me. We are eager to know by who.”

  “Who is we?”

  “We are going to have to kill you, so I don’t suppose it matters you knowing. That said, why tell you? Soon, you will be in no state to ask questions.”

  “Soon? Are you not going to kill me like you have so many?”

  “No, I am going to give you to someone who will extract everything you know about the location of the fifth blood. When he is done, you will beg him to kill you and eventually, he will comply. What I want to know from you is who has been impersonating me, is it really this vampiris?”

  “Impersonating you?”

&nb
sp; “I was intending to link the vampiris to the murders, we already have some evidence suggesting he could be the serial killer we have been hunting, so the rest should be child’s play. I will just make sure the police find Silas after he has had an unfortunate… accident. But I don't think he is that good that he could have killed your father.”

  “You are not sure?” Henry said, taking a step closer to Nick so that he was no more than a foot away.

  Nick stared Henry straight in the eye, unblinking.

  “No. I don’t like the idea of someone using me as a cover for an unspeakable act”

  “One thing I don’t understand,” Henry said.

  Slyly, Henry pulled out a vial of dysprosium from of his jacket, the last piece of equipment he had sourced before leaving the house. Slowly, using his magus, he let it drift to the floor. This was his cheat, his way to level the playing field. He searched for the knife and found it to the side of Nick, where it had bounced off of his defences. In Henry’s mind, a plan had started to take shape, now he just needed to pull it off.

  “What do you not understand?” Nick said.

  “How did you hide the fact these criminals escaped punishment? Surely that link would make the motive clear? I mean, I understand how you killed them: your abilities mean you are undetectable, which in this day and age mean short circuiting CCTV cameras or blowing out lights. You are impossibly fast, so they didn’t see you coming, but how did you hide it?”

  “Why do you care about that?”

  “The puzzle is incomplete.”

  “I modified the police records, with a little help of course.”

  “And you let your own daughter investigate an impossible case?”

  “Far from it, she has found a suspect and I have started to put down the pieces that will link Silas to the victims. Follow the drugs. It’s a cliché, but it works. You see-”

  “Capto,” Henry said, his arm raised towards Nick’s chest.

  The knife from behind him catapulted from the ground towards Henry’s hand, flying towards Nick’s heart which stood between it and it’s target. Nick reacted, spinning round with impossible speed and catching the knife mid air.

  “Such an obvious ploy,” Nick said.

  He glanced back too late to react. Henry had summoned his magus and the dysprosium canister, that lay at his feet, shot through the air into Nick’s leg. It connected with it’s target, the black liquid disappearing into him as his powers instantly drained.

  “Cultro,” Henry said, blue flames pulsing in his outstretched palm.

  Nick froze, his expression more of shock than pain. He tried to flex his power, but it was gone.

  “Who killed my father?” Henry said.

  Sweat dripped from Henry’s brow as he fought to control the power, some version of his autopilot had taken over, but he couldn’t be sure how long he could maintain it.

  “I did not murder Mark,” Nick said.

  “If you didn’t kill him, who did?” Henry said.

  “There is one possibility, but if I’m right, you have much bigger problems than Wade to worry about. You see-”

  Hot blood splattered across Henry’s face. Nick crumpled to his knees, his face ripped open at the front from the exit wound of a bullet. Past him, at the entrance of the ballroom, stood Alice, her gun still smoking.

  “Sorry Henry.”

  She fired again.

  Two minutes earlier…

  - Chapter 47 -

  Perspective

  “I had to protect her, Helena. I won't let you harm Alex,” Charlie said.

  He pointed his gun toward her, slowing his breaths as he tried to gain some essence of control.

  “Are you threatening me?” Helena said, disgust in her voice. "Drop the gun Charles, you don't have the balls to use it.”

  “Try me,” Charlie said. “It was never meant to be like this. We are supposed to make things better, help people. I know what you have been doing, about the experiments, the underhand deals with Wade.”

  “So what? You think I give a damn what you think? You don’t understand what is happening out there; we are at war. We are outgunned and outflanked by monsters with abilities we can only try to comprehend."

  “They are not all like that.”

  “Really? What about her father? He thinks himself beyond the law and we help him get away with it. He is a killer Charlie. Have you ever stopped and thought what you would do if she could turned out like him?”

  “Shut up or so help me God, I will shoot you.”

  He leant across to a computer and pressed a button, his focus still on Helena. The computer buzzed and ejected a small black box, the size of a mobile phone.

  “What are you doing Charles?” Helena said.

  “Making the right decision.”

  Charlie pressed another button on the keyboard and in a flash, tens of monitors around the room blinked into life, lines of code flickering across the screens.

  “You idiot!”

  Helena raced to the terminal, laying her gun on the table as she frantically typed, trying to stop whatever action Charlie had just triggered. In her distraction, Charlie pocketed the small black box.

  “This has to stop Helena,” Charlie said, his gun still trained on her.

  “You have destroyed everything, I will see you burn in hell for this,” Helena yelled. Her gaze moved from the screen to Charlie, before shifting back to where the box had been. “Where is that drive?” Helena said, picking the gun up again and pointing it back at Charlie. “Give it to me. Now.”

  “Enough Helena, we have failed here. We can't risk-”

  But Alex didn't hear the end of his sentence. The machines stopped buzzing, their whines coming to a crescendo and then... peace. Alex dropped to her knees as a pulse of energy overtook her, her mind a daze of thoughts, of pain, suffering and death. Alex fell, as Charlie swooped in to catch her, his gun clattering to the ground beside him. A moment later, with the haze still filling her mind and controlling her soul, Alex opened her eyes. Her veins pumped with energy, her muscles burning as if she had run a marathon. She felt strange. Stronger, more powerful somehow, something had changed.

  And then she saw the lights.

  The small device Charlie had placed on the table, that he had used to show her she wasn't an alternate, had lit up. Three of the five blocks shone brightly.

  Looking up, Alex noticed the rest of them. The benches around her must have been covered in the things, for a wash of green, red and blue light filled the room, the colours saturating Helena’s pale face.

  Charlie stood blankly, staring at the lights with an expression she could only take to be fear.

  “How? They said the five's genes would not be inherited, that it was impossible,” Helena said.

  Alex looked at her leg as foam poured out form the wound Charlie had treated. With a chink as it hit the metal floor, the bullet pushed its way out of the closing wound, leaving only a stain of blood in its place.

  “Charlie, what’s happening?”

  There was a gun shot. Alex felt it first as it vibrated through the floor. Time slowed as a slight pulse of heat brushed against her cheek. Electricity flashed from the barrel of the gun as plasma, with its comet-like tail, contorted under the electric field. It flew across the room and connected with Helena’s stomach. Her skin, and the shirt covering it, rippled as the hot flash of blue tore through her.

  Helena staggered backwards. Dropping the gun, her hand clenched at her stomach as blood soaked the front of her shirt.

  “Get out of here, now. Take the back corridor,” Charlie said, turning to Alex.

  “Charlie, what's happening?” Alex said.

  “Go!” Charlie screamed, the word choking in his throat.

  Alex headed towards the dimly lit door at the back of the room. Behind her, she could hear each laboured breath Helena took, the sound of blood choking her lungs and then, Charlie's footsteps approaching her, laboured and uncertain.

  A second shot sound
ed out behind her and Helena stopped breathing. Alex didn’t look back.

  - Chapter 48 -

  Endings

  Meyer awoke strapped to a chair, rope digging into his wrists. Moonlight broke through the stain glass window before him, drenching him in faded colour as he tried to work out where he was. Trying to use his power, Meyer found it lacking and looking down, he saw the cause of his weakness. Dysprosium crystals were evenly spaced around him, the onyx stones glowing white as they absorbed his magus.

  “Good evening Meyer,” said a voice from behind him.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Meyer said.

  “The meaning of it, old friend? You broke into my office and stole from me. That is an act of treason and you know the punishment for betraying the Inquisition,” Wade said, walking around the chair to face him.

  “Where is Ruth?” Meyer said.

  “She will be dealt with separately, as will Rosalyn. You bring so many down with you when you fall Meyer, so many lives will be destroyed because of you. Now, what do you know?” Wade said.

  “You have been hunting Inquisitors, looking for the one who knows the location of the fifth blood. You hired Grendal to capture Inks so you could interrogate them, and you made an alliance with Helena, because you are afraid of Adrianna. You think she can protect you, but she can’t forever. What I don't know is why you want the fifth blood? What use is it to you?” Meyer said.

  “How smart of you to piece it all together, shame you aren’t as good at spying. You made quite the mess. I don’t believe you were ever meant to leave your armchair old chap and now you will face the consequences. As for hiring Grendal, what gave it away?” Wade said.

  “An educated guess.”

  “He has been working for us, in exchange for keeping his discretions hidden. A fair deal for the greater good. You see, the day of the Inquisitor is over. We need a new breed to take up the mantle, and that is what the fifth blood will give us. I can use the blood to make a new generation of guardians, take back what the Inquisitors stole from me.”