I was in the bathroom when it rang again. Missed it. The third one I didn’t even bother rushing for, convinced by now whoever it was would keep trying. I was nearly proven wrong when it took a full half hour for the fourth call.
Sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cornflakes, I answered with a mouthful.
“Mr Hawkins.”
Spit or swallow? As inelegant as it was, I spat. The other option would have probably seen me choke.
“Why are you calling me?” I was proud of the steadiness in my voice. Internally, I was seething, the berserker fit of the night before not so long past it wasn’t still lurking close to the surface like a prowling great white, waiting for the chance to strike.
“Never fear,” Theodore Aurum said, insufferably calm and collected. “I am not in your city. Not even in your hemisphere.”
It was irritating he knew me well enough to know my true fear.
Aurum looked like a genial English professor. He even acted like one. He was pleasant, wore tweed suits and had butt loads of grace. He’d come into my life when Mercy and I were still working out just what we were to each other and had offered his advice and aid. Thankfully, I’d found out what he really was before he could charm me into accepting his offer.
Vampires were divided into clans. Named after the colours of their auras, there were Red, Yellow, Orange, Blue, Green, Violet and Gold vampires. And then there was Mercy, clan-less, but not Primal-less, if Aurum had his way. As Primal of the Gold clan, Aurum seemed to be some sort of grand-poobah of all vampires. He couldn’t stop the clan wars but he did seem to garner some respect from the other Primals. And he’d swanned about my city, daring to insinuate I had set myself up as a new Primal. Being human, my aura, and therefore Mercy’s, was a complete mess of colours, meaning they couldn’t easily pigeonhole us. Until they gave us a catchy, colour-coded name, I would be steadfast in denying Aurum’s claims.
Whatever his purported altruistic purpose had been in offering his help, I didn’t care. Wanted nothing to do with him. He was far too dangerous.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Just a small favour.”
“Got another rogue Primal you want put down?”
He chuckled. “Nothing so dramatic. An acquaintance of mine is coming to your city, flying in this morning, in fact. He’s new to Australia and I was hoping you could give him a friendly face to greet him at the airport.”
I stared into the middle distance for a moment. “A welcoming committee. That’s what you want?”
“Well, that and a bit of local knowledge and perhaps a lift into the city.”
“What is he? A werewolf? A merman? Be warned, I’ve met a Demon Lord, they don’t impress me.”
“Hmm, I’d heard about your altercation with Asmodeus. Very well handled. No, my friend is a sorcerer. Randy Devantier. He’s Texan.”
I snorted. “Human. That makes a change.”
If Aurum noted the subtle snark, he skipped over it with aplomb. “His flight gets in at nine. Thank you, Mr Hawkins.”
And just like that, he was gone.
The next several minutes passed in a mindless haze. I’d hoped to never hear from Aurum ever again, but in my deep subconscious, knew it would happen. Now that it had, I couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed. It certainly hadn’t lived up to my fears of another bloody, life-threatening, sanity-straining fight for the survival of the world.
So it was with a strange sense of relief I dressed and headed for the airport.
Pulling in at the international terminal on the dot of ten, I parked in the short term area. A parking-nazi watched me with narrowed eyes as I got out and looked for a Texan sorcerer.
He proved remarkably easy to spot, even before I saw the t-shirt that said ‘Texan Sorcerer’. Handsome, dark haired, blue eyed, lanky and a couple of inches taller than me, he towered over most of the crowd, walking with a mild but noticeable swagger. In boots, jeans, t-shirt and suit jacket he was one Stetson away from being typecast.
The man spotted me about the same time I spotted him. He grinned and turned in my direction, hauling a small, wheeled suitcase behind him. There were a half-dozen ‘ma’ams’ and ‘sirs’ and a couple of non-existent-hat tips to the people around him. A lot of second glances from the women and a few frowns as they read the words on his t-shirt.
“G’day,” he said as he reached me, hand out to shake. “I’m Randy Devantier. But please, call me Dev.”
Not sure if I should be amused or not, I said, “Howdy. Matt Hawkins. Call me Matt.”
We shook. If I squeezed his hand a little hard, he didn’t seem to notice.
“Thanks for this,” Dev said. “I truly appreciate your kindness.”
“No worries. Do you have any other luggage?”
He smiled. “This is it. I travel light.”
I began heading back to the car. “What’s with the t-shirt?”
Dev laughed, deep and full throated. “Aurum’s idea. Said it would help you find me, and amuse you.” He stopped at the car and frowned at it. “This beast yours? I was told you had a black sports car.”
“What else were you told about me?” I asked, a little too sharp.
Hand up in apology, Dev said, “Nothing, really. Just a few things to help me recognise you is all. New car?”
I opened up the back so he could put his bag in. “No. A friend’s. He’s using mine to lure in a girl.”
Another genuine laugh. “You are a true friend, Matt.”
We had to rearrange Roberts’ cargo before we could fit Dev’s bag in, but it was managed without too much trouble. Dev cocked a curious brow at the boxes of logoed t-shirts, caps and stubbie-holders. The crates of alcohol, however, were worthy of a hesitant pause, but he didn’t say anything. I could have explained about how it was all part of Roberts’ job, nothing to do with me, but didn’t. Explaining would mean I cared what this guy thought about me; cared, ultimately, what Aurum might think about me. And I didn’t. Not one little bit. At all.
We both ended up at the driver’s side door, hands out to open it.
“Sorry.” Dev shook his head. “Gotta remember where I am. Though you’d think fourteen hours on a plane would clue me in.” He went around to the passenger door.
I sighed and got in. “Right, welcome to Brisbane, Australia,” I said in my best tour guide voice. “We say mum not mom, arse not ass, and drive on the left side of the road. That’s the important points covered.”
“Noted.” Then, with a grin, he added, “Mate.” He put a nasal twang on it that grated through my ears, but he seemed pleased with the results.
This was going to be interesting.
Chapter 9
The traffic was thick around the terminal but we made it out in good time with our lives and I directed us toward the city.
“So, you’re a sorcerer,” I said. “Haven’t met one of you before.”
“We’re not that common. There hasn’t been a registered sorcerer in Brisbane for about twenty years. I checked before I came, in case I needed backup. But Aurum assured me you were good in a tight spot.”
My fingers griped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white. “He did, did he?”
“Yes, sir. Very impressed with you, I gather. Though he wouldn’t tell me what you are. You’re not a sorcerer. Wizard?”
“There’s a difference?”
“Worlds of difference. We sorcerers, our power comes from within. It’s a part of us, like some people can sing, but others can’t.” His tone was open, friendly, but I caught a few hints of scepticism in there, like he couldn’t believe he had to tell me this. “Wizards and witches, on the other hand, get their power from deals with demons. It’s actually the demon’s power they’re usin’.”
“Oh, that’s... cool.”
Dev grinned. “Until the demon decides it’s time to collect on the deal. Then it’s hot.”
“Actually, it’s not that hot in Hell. Rather pleasant, I found.”
The Texan laughed, then stopped when he realised I wasn’t laughing at the joke. Went still with the further realisation it wasn’t a joke at all.
“Aurum didn’t tell you that one, huh?”
Dev shook his head. “So, what are you? I mean, you have to be some sort of power for Aurum to know you.”
Usually, I just go with psychic, but that’s when everyday people ask me what I am. I’m not fond of the title, although I am psychic on a certain level, and it is convenient to those who don’t know what’s really lurking in the shadows. But Dev was different. A sorcerer and, apparently, ‘friends’ with Aurum. He wouldn’t accept psychic at face value, I was betting. And while I owed him nothing, I still felt I should at least make nice. Besides, if I introduced Dev to Jacob, I was sure to get back on the Christmas card list.
“I’m a...” Not psychic and I definitely wasn’t going to go with Primal, so I picked Aurum’s other little descriptive. “Warrior, I guess. I have some skills that give me an advantage over Old World creatures. And I have a partner with similar skills.” I watched him from the corner of my eye, wondering just how much Aurum had told him.
“Warriors.” He nodded. “I get it.”
Just what he got, I couldn’t guess at, and unless tame vampires were a dime a dozen overseas, I decided Aurum hadn’t spilled that particular bean.
“So, where too?” I asked as we came up to several options of exits from the freeway.
“I’m the tourist,” Dev said. “I don’t know.”
I scowled at him. “You don’t know where you’re going?”
“I just got into the country an hour ago.”
Because it was either take an exit or keep going to the Gold Coast, I took the Kingsford Smith Drive exit and headed toward the city.
“Aurum said I was to drop you in the city. I assumed it was where your hotel was.”
“Hotel? He said you’d put me up.”
I nearly drove off the road into the river. “He what?”
“Whoa! Sorry, I thought he’d teed this up with you.”
Finding a bare stretch of road, I pulled over and took a several deep breaths. “I’m going to kill him. I mean it. I really will.”
Dev eyed me carefully. “If it’s a problem I can find somewhere else.”
“Just tell me exactly what he said,” I ground out.
“That you were the local Council contact for Brisbane and that you’d help me with my investigation.”
I stared at him. “Council contact? Council? Investigation? What…?”
“Ooh boy.” Dev ran a hand over his narrow face, rubbing a dark shadow of stubble on his jaw. “The Council. You don’t know the Council?”
“Apart from the local council that keeps putting my rates up, no.”
“All right. The Council is, for want of a longer, more thorough description, the governing body of all supernatural powers in the world. You’ve never heard of it?”
I shook my head, suddenly feeling very lost and alone. “When Aurum was here he only ever spoke about a loose circle of people not a governing body.”
“Well, it’s not really a governing body. I mean, try tellin’ the vampire Primals what to do, and compared to some, they’re very cooperative. Maybe I should say they’re like an oversight committee. They keep track of big events and dangers and provide advice and support.”
Which was exactly what Aurum had been doing here nearly a year ago and I’d put my stubborn-princess tiara on and told him where he could shove it.
“Aurum’s part of this Council, isn’t he.” I said it knowing the answer.
“Sort of like their leader, yeah.”
I gaped at him. “You know what he is, don’t you?”
“The Gold Primal. And about the nicest vampire you’re ever gonna meet.”
“They aren’t really vampires.” It came out weak, my last ditch effort to regain some form of dignity. “And you’re here investigating something. Do you work for the Council?”
“No. I’m a freelancer. The Council has its enforcers and security, but sometimes they offer out contracts to anyone willing to take them on. Usually on matters they think are too dangerous for their own people.”
“And that’s why you’re here? Something so dangerous Aurum won’t deal with it is here?” I never thought I’d miss Asmodeus.
“Not as such. The contract’s taken care of. A rogue sorcerer called Friedrich, but he’s not a problem anymore.”
There were layers behind Dev’s words, meanings and events that affected him deeply. He looked away to the river, eyes narrowed.
“I took the contract because Friedrich stole something from me. He no longer has it. The trail led me here.”
“What did he steal?”
The smile that twisted Dev’s lips was bitter and sad. “More than he could ever give back, but I’m here after a spell.”
“A spell.”
“A very powerful and dangerous spell.”
“How does one go about stealing a spell? Isn’t it something you do?”
Dev smiled, the dark receding from his expression. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. Spells aren’t as straightforward as popular culture would have you believe. They’re rather convoluted processes. The spell doesn’t actually effect a change on the world, but rather on the sorcerer. Once that’s been done, it’s a matter of triggering it in order to produce an effect. I’m a weather sorcerer and while I can do most things other weather sorcerers can do, the way we do them is different. It’s all dependant on your brain. How you think and process stuff. To call up a wind, I have a trigger that starts the process. Another sorcerer’s trigger is different, but the result is the same. Got it?”
“Sure,” I lied. “So, how does one steal a spell?”
The sorcerer laughed. “Easy. They take the piece of paper it’s written on.”
Letting out a long breath, I said, “Okay. That’s logical.”
“It’s hard to explain,” Dev said apologetically.
“Clearly. That means you’re here looking for a piece of paper. Do you have any leads?”
“I do. A strong one. Friedrich sold the spell to someone here in Brisbane before I got to him. I don’t know who, but now there’s a third party after it as well, and that person is an earth sorcerer. I can track an earth sorcerer.”
Putting the car in gear, I pulled out again into traffic. “You said there were no sorcerers in Brisbane.”
“Registered. There could be rogues. That’s highly doubtful, though. The process to become a sorcerer is magnificently hard and you need a mentor and there’s a lot of accidents along the way. They tend to be noticeable. That water spout in Sydney a couple of months back, that was a weather sorcerer apprentice messing up.”
I nodded, discovering it was harder and harder to find things to be incredulous about. Frankly, Aurum handing out my help to all and sundry had pretty much used it all up.
“Just the one lead? The earth sorcerer?”
“Trust me, it’s all I need.”
“If that were the case, I would still be in bed.”
Dev laughed. “Considering Aurum’s liberties, I’ll understand if you can’t help me.”
“No,” I muttered. “I don’t have anything else to do today. What do you need to find this sorcerer?”
“A newspaper.”
“For a spell?”
“Nope. For the news.”
Before I could question that, my phone rang.
I will admit this and that’ll be an end to it. I did appreciate the Bluetooth in Roberts’ car.
“Night Call,” I answered. “Hawkins speaking.”
“Matt,” Erin said, her voice echoing through the car. “Are you able to meet me at the Queen Elizabeth II hospital?”
If it wasn’t for the calm tone of her voice I almost would have panicked. Erin and I didn’t have a great record when it comes to hospitals. Then there was the fact her husband was very ill.
“What’s up?” I asked.
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“They’ve got Sean Carey’s body there. I know the doctor doing the autopsy. I thought we could go talk to him about it.”
Dev cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Do you really need me there?” I asked Erin.
She made a sound of impatience. “You’re the best eye witness to his death. Yes, I need you there.”
Both of Dev’s eyebrows went up at that.
“Um, I kind of have something else to do today.”
A speculative pause. “Did you lose Mercy again?”
“No.”
“Then whatever it is isn’t that important. I know you’re in the car already. Just turn around and get to the hospital.”
Dev mouthed ‘feisty’. I nodded.
“This sounds important,” Dev said. “Perhaps you should go.”
“Who’s that?” Erin asked, wary.
“A hitchhiker,” I said. “All right. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Good.”
“Wait, Erin,” I said before she could hang up.
“Yes?”
“Do you have a paper?”
Chapter 10
In my previous life, I’d been a pathology scientist and a paramedic. It was the latter job that introduced me to morgues. Body drop offs were the worst part of it. There was a finality to it, an admission that the fight had been lost. I’d never been to Brisbane’s morgue though and Erin agreed to meet me out front.
She was leaning against a wall, reading the paper I’d asked her to bring, when we approached. Auburn hair tied back in a pony tail, she looked young and fresh, a brightness in her eyes that was missing too much lately. Her husband’s cancer, while no worse in recent times, wasn’t any better, either. She didn’t talk about it much but it weighed on her more than she admitted.
At the sight of Dev, she cast me a questioning look, then back to him for a better appraisal. I couldn’t tell exactly what she thought from her expression but it wasn’t hostile, I knew that much.
Night Call (Book 3): Rock Paper Sorcery Page 7