Saved by the Spell. House of Magic 2.

by Susanna Shore

  I faced him. “What’s the price?”

  “As if you wouldn’t pay it,” Danielle sneered, but I kept my eyes on Dufort’s. Their strength was more than I could easily bear, but I endured. His mouth quirked.

  “No charge. This time.”

  “So you’re like drug dealers,” I said, disgusted. “First time’s free and then the price goes up exponentially.”

  To my surprise, he laughed. Evil people had a weird sense of humour.

  And a charming laugh.

  “You helped my Danielle with the curse. Consider this a debt repaid.”

  He’d sent a hellhound to kill her, but whatever. It wasn’t my relationship.

  I made a sweeping gesture at Kane. “Proceed, then. But I’m keeping an eye on you. And there had better not be any evil consequences, or I’ll come after you with a vengeance.”

  He laughed again and gestured me to move back. My legs had stiffened, and it took a moment to get them to obey, but I managed to retreat a little.

  I wouldn’t go farther than that.

  He placed a hand on Kane’s forehead and listened—or studied him with the third eye or whatever. I’m not an expert on warlock healing.

  His dark brows furrowed, and he shot me a look. “I need your blood.”

  “What?”

  “Would you rather I use mine?”

  “No…?”

  He held out a hand and, reluctantly, I reached mine to him. His hand was large and warm around mine, which surprised me a little. I guess I thought he would be cold. Evil should be.

  He studied my hand. “I presume there’s a reason why you feel repulsive to me?”

  “Yes.”

  My curt answer made him smile. He didn’t seem as strained by the revulsion as other men were, and held my hand with ease. Perhaps warlocks were more immune to the effects, or he could shield himself against them.

  Or he was simply so cool that he didn’t care.

  A triumphant smile flashed on Danielle’s face, and I had a suspicion she knew exactly how the spell had come to be. She’d been in London back when Jack had stolen the book. She could have been the cloaked mage with him!

  I don’t know why I hadn’t come to think of that before.

  There was a small prick in my index finger, and I startled, more out of surprise than pain because he hadn’t used any tool.

  Blood welled at the tip. He waited a couple of heartbeats, and then, using my finger like a pen, drew a symbol on Kane’s forehead. He didn’t stir.

  My blood looked grotesque on his pale skin, and I found the drawing difficult to look at, as if it were repelling me. It was evil if anything was.

  I was starting to question the wisdom of this. But Dufort was the only one who could help.

  Dufort released my hand, and I sucked the finger to stop the blood flowing. Danielle shook her head, disgusted, reached into Kane’s breast pocket and pulled out the fine muslin handkerchief he always had there. She handed it to me without a word, and I wrapped it around the wound, even though it would be ruined.

  Then again, considering the condition of his suit, one ruined hankie wouldn’t make matters much worse.

  Dufort concentrated on Kane, ignoring us. He didn’t move or gesture with his hands, but I felt power rising, the magic brushing against me. It felt different from Kane’s. Kane’s made my skin tingle pleasantly, but this was a harsher sensation. Forceful and raw, not at all as charming as he was.

  He placed a hand above the symbol he’d drawn and said a word that my ears refused to hear. The effect was immediate.

  Kane’s chest arched up, like in the movies when they use a defibrillator to start someone’s heart, and he drew a loud breath as if he hadn’t been breathing the whole time, though I knew he had.

  His eyes opened, and he stared up in confusion. Then he shot to a sitting position, punched Dufort in the face, and promptly lost consciousness again, collapsing back on the floor.

  That went well.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Speechless, I gave the handkerchief to Dufort, and he used it to dab the blood from his lip. It was only a nick, as Kane had been too dazed to do proper damage, and it stopped bleeding instantly.

  Danielle looked bewildered. “He’s never been violent before.”

  “Effects of the spell, I’m afraid,” Dufort said in French, brushing her words aside. He didn’t look angry.

  I had a different theory. Kane had been really worried about Danielle, fearing she was being abused by Dufort. This wasn’t his violent side we’d witnessed; it was his chivalric self.

  I thought it best not to bring it up.

  “Will he be unconscious for long?” I asked, worried, opting to speak English even though my French was rather good, thanks to my parents living there for so long.

  Dufort made a very Gallic shrug. “Impossible to tell, but at least it’s not caused by magic anymore, so if it continues, you can take him to a doctor.”

  The colour of Kane’s skin was better, and he was breathing more evenly, so I decided to trust Dufort’s assessment. To my amazement, the symbol he’d drawn on Kane’s forehead was gone too, as if erased by the spell.

  “Thank you.” And I meant it too. Evil or not, he’d been helpful.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me. Giselle called. “Where are you?”

  I told her our location and she said they’d soon be here.

  Dufort helped Danielle up, and held her hand after, gently caressing it. She didn’t try to pull it away and she smiled at him, so I was almost confident she was with him voluntarily.

  “I think that’s the cue for us to leave,” Dufort said with a small bow at me. “I’ve removed the most vicious wards off the door. Ordinary mages should be able to remove the rest.”

  He extended his arm in front of him and made a circle in the air with his open palm. A portal opened and they stepped through without a word—and before I could ask what he wanted in return for that other service.

  I had a bad feeling we’d find out the hard way.

  I hadn’t recovered from their visit by the time Giselle arrived with Amber. They approached cautiously, peering in through the wrought iron gate.

  “There you are.”

  Giselle’s shoulders slumped in relief, and she rushed to us, Amber at her heels. The latter was carrying a bag full of what I hoped was medical aid to revive Kane.

  “Has he been unconscious all this time?” Amber asked worried, kneeling by him to check his pulse.

  “Sort of.”

  She shot me a questioning look and I shrugged. “Laurent Dufort was here with Danielle, and he managed to revive him briefly.”

  Amber’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “Did he attack Archibald?” Giselle demanded, her normally smiling countenance wiped away with anger.

  “No. He wanted to … help him, I guess.”

  The women didn’t look like they believed me, so I told them the bizarre story while Amber took care of Kane.

  “I think you’re right,” Amber said once I’d finished. “He’ll want a favour in return, and it’s not going to be good.”

  I’d worry about that later.

  Giselle took a bunch of herbs from the bag and lit them up. The smoke was pungent, and she held it under Kane’s nose. His eyes opened immediately, and he coughed violently until the smoke cleared.

  He studied them blearily. “How did you get here?” Then he lifted his head, wincing. “Where is here?”

  “We’re still in the catacombs,” I told him.

  I had a great urge to hold his hand, but I refrained, and not just because of the spell. He wouldn’t welcome the gesture.

  I could only watch as Giselle and Amber helped him to sit up. He swayed a little but didn’t faint.

  “You triggered a ward on the Sanford crypt and it knocked you out,” I told him.

  He rubbed his forehead, as if his head hurt. It probably did. “It’s a really nasty ward I’ve never encountered befor
e. I’m not sure I’ll be able to break it.”

  “That’s okay. Laurent Dufort already did.”

  “What?” His anger flared—as did his hair—and he made to get up, only to be held down by Amber’s firm hand on his shoulder.

  “How the hell did that happen?”

  I spread my arms, still unable to believe the chain of events myself. “Danielle called you and I sort of blurted out you were unconscious. They stepped out of a portal a moment later.”

  His nostrils flared in disgust upon hearing about the portal. It was magic only warlocks could do.

  “Anyway, he removed the nastiest wards, healed you, and then you punched him in the face.”

  “Really?” A satisfied smile spread on his face. “Pity I don’t remember it.”

  “Let’s hope he won’t remember it either,” Giselle said dryly. She leaned down and wrapped an arm under his. Amber took the other arm. “Let’s get you up…”

  Together, they helped him stand, and his legs held. He straightened his clothes, luckily not checking the state of his jacket—appalling—and nodded decisively. “Let’s go find Rupert.”

  We didn’t point out to him that he wasn’t in any state to fight a warlock, or even a mage as powerful as an archmage. We’d manage somehow if it came to a confrontation.

  But after studying the wards remaining on the door to the Sanford crypt, he had to admit defeat.

  “Even without the black magic wards, this is a complicated piece of protection. It takes at least five people, preferably six, working in concert to break it, if you don’t know the key that lets you pass.”

  Giselle pursed her lips. “I don’t know where we’ll get more people at this hour. Ashley is incapacitated and Luca can’t come before sundown.”

  She didn’t say aloud that they didn’t currently trust their fellow mages not to be in league with Blackhart, but that’s what she meant. It was up to us to break the wards and find Rupert.

  “We’ll go home, recuperate and return with Luca,” Amber stated. “And hopefully Ashley has recovered by then too.”

  As much as it worried me that we’d have to postpone finding Rupert, I couldn’t help feeling relieved that we didn’t have to go after Blackhart just yet, with Kane recovering. Amber and Giselle were clearly relieved too.

  Kane looked like he wanted to argue, but Amber didn’t give him a chance. She took him by the arm and led him down the path. He went with her with only a token protest.

  She didn’t head to the front gate but chose a path that led to a far corner on the same side. We ended up at a pair of tall iron gates wide enough to drive through with a car. They were held closed by a bicycle lock, and there were no cameras monitoring it.

  That was trusting.

  The street on the other side was empty, even though the residential neighbourhood began right outside the gate. Though it felt like hours had passed, it wasn’t rush hour yet; people were still at work.

  My stomach growled just then, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and then only a cup of coffee.

  It was a matter of moment for the mages to open the lock and close it behind us. Soon, we were in Kane’s car that the women had left on the next street over.

  Kane fell asleep the moment the car was on the move, and we had to wake him up when we reached his home forty-five minutes later.

  He promised to be at the House of Magic by dinner time, and we left him to make his own way indoors. But all three of us kept an eye on his progress like mother hens.

  The moment he had disappeared into his house, Amber gave me a slow look. “What the hell happened to his clothes?”

  I was rested and well-fed by the time we filed back into Kane’s Land Rover after sunset that evening, but I can’t say I was relaxed. I sat on the edge of the back seat, holding myself rigid, until Giselle pulled me to lean against the backrest.

  Luca was the only addition to our team, and we had to hope we were enough. Ashley had barely been able to open her eyes when I checked on her, and we’d left her to sleep.

  We could have used her as muscle, but we would have to do without. There were five of us, four with magical or supernatural defences. I was the only one without.

  I didn’t have more mundane weapons either, not even a can of pepper spray. My plan was to hide behind the others if it came to a confrontation. Maybe yell threateningly and shake my fist in the air.

  The sky was overcast, and it was dark by the time we reached the same street outside the cemetery on which Amber had parked the car before. We were dressed in all black; even Kane was wearing black jeans and a black cashmere jumper instead of a suit, which … I approved.

  If he was annoyed with me for ruining his suit, he didn’t bring it up.

  “Spooky,” Luca noted as we waited in darkness for Kane to open the bicycle lock holding the side gate closed.

  “Shouldn’t you love cemeteries?” I teased him to hide my nervousness. The cemetery had been beautiful and eerie during the day, but at night it suddenly seemed frightening.

  He shot me a sideways look. “Why would I love them? There’s nothing to eat there.”

  I shuddered and he grinned. I’d been too chicken to ask if he truly drank blood—he ate perfectly normal food too—so I had no idea if he was messing with me or not.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. The whole supernatural world was a learning curve for me, and I was determined to take it slow.

  We took the straightest path to the Terrace Catacombs, which is to say, wandered around the cemetery trying to reach there as directly as possible.

  There were no lamps illuminating the paths, and with the foliage arcing over the paths, blocking the ambient light from the neighbourhood, I could barely see where I was going—a problem that didn’t seem to affect the rest. I knew Luca had excellent night vision, but the others must have opted for a spell.

  Pity no one came to think of mundane old me. But I didn’t dare to take out my phone and use its light, in case it messed with the night vision of the rest of them.

  I stumbled once more, and Luca offered me an arm. I hesitated only briefly before accepting it; it was either that or fall on my face.

  “Doesn’t it make you feel sick to hold me?”

  He shrugged, which I more felt against my side than saw. “I’m getting used to it. Besides, we’ll never get there if you break your leg.”

  Practical.

  The moon, three quarters full, appeared from behind the clouds. I still couldn’t see where I was going, but it hit the marble angels that sprang from here and there from the darkness. What had seemed charming during the day turned downright frightening in the moonlight.

  “This is not the best time to remember the weeping angels from Doctor Who…” Luca muttered.

  We glanced at each other and leaned closer. Spell or no spell, I wasn’t so repulsive he wouldn’t use me as protection against angel statues creeping on us.

  I was twelve when I saw that episode and I’d had nightmares for months. My parents forbade me from watching Doctor Who because of it, but of course I watched it in secret. But the series never again came as close to frightening me as that episode had.

  “They are imaginary, right?” I had to ask. If werewolves and vampires were real, maybe those statues were too.

  He shrugged, which didn’t help.

  I took his hand, and he didn’t shake it away.

  “So … is the Highgate Vampire real, then?” I had to ask, as if I weren’t spooked enough as it was.

  The Highgate Vampire had been some sort of media sensation in the seventies, presumably living in or haunting the cemetery. It was long before I was born, but if Luca was as old as he claimed, he might know.

  He snorted. “No. And I know. I went to look.”

  “Are there many of your kind around?” I asked, suddenly curious.

  “Nope.”

  There was finality in his tone that didn’t invite to asking more, so I let the matter be.


  Finally, we reached the Terrace Catacombs, with me still in one piece, thanks to Luca’s firm hand and fast reflexes. Standing at the top of the hill, not shadowed by trees, the limestone wall shone eerily in the moonlight. But the door to the Stanford crypt somehow managed to be deep in shadows.

  “I hope that doesn’t mean the warlock wards are back,” I muttered to Luca. We waited for Kane to study the door, standing far enough that if he was catapulted by the wards again, he wouldn’t fall on us.

  Chivalrous of us, I know.

  Kane made a gesture with his hand and the wards protecting the crypt suddenly lit up the night. I’d never seen anything like it.

  I glanced around. “Those had better come down soon. We’re visible miles away.”

  “How are you supposed to get through those?” Luca asked, amazed.

  The wards covered the front of the crypt from ground to the roof, twirling around and through each other in colourful swirls, making it impossible to see where they began or ended. I didn’t know anything about magic, but that had to be an overkill of protection.

  And this was without the black magic wards. They probably wouldn’t have been so cheerful looking.

  “That’s why you’re all here,” Kane said, not taking his eyes off the wards. “If Phoebe could stand next to Amber…?”

  Amber and Giselle had already taken their places on both sides of him, and I did as I was asked.

  “And Luca, you’ll stand next to Giselle. Good. Now, Phoebe, place your hand on that green line above Amber’s orange line, and Luca, you put your right hand on the same green line on this end, and left hand on that blue one below.”

  I placed my hand on the instructed spot. The wall hummed under my hand, tingling, but it didn’t try to throw me back or repel me. Kane nodded.

  “Now, Phoebe, when I give you a sign, you’ll have to place your other hand on that pink spot at the upper edge.”

  I located it and nodded. I could reach it.

  Kane began to chant with a steady voice, which I hadn’t witnessed him do with wards before, and Giselle and Amber joined him. With every syllable, I felt power rising. The wall of wards under my hand started to hum, resonating with the chanting. Tingling spread up my arm and down my entire body until my feet were buzzing. It wasn’t painful, but it made me want to squirm.