Fire Sorcerer (The Sentinels Book 1)

by David J Normoyle

  When I was sure she was comfortable, I pressed the starter button. It made a rather timid sound in comparison with the Honda.

  As I drove out into the empty street with Jo nestled into my chest, I knew I would do everything in my power to protect her.

  Chapter 11

  Tuesday 17:15

  Flavini’s Bites, a fishing tackle shop, was already closed for the day by the time we reached it. Steel shutters covered the front entrance, and I rattled them for a solid minute before Flavini opened the door. Jo, still sitting on the Vespa, looked pale but at least the black-eyed demon hadn’t returned on the ride across town.

  Flavini had stringy gray hair, a face of wrinkles and eyes that looked older than the pyramids. “You?” He didn’t move aside to let me in. “I thought you swore you wouldn’t be back.”

  “And I bet you knew I would be.”

  “I suspected. Doesn’t mean I ever intended to let you back.”

  “You have to help us,” I said.

  “You may remember from our last meeting that I’m not the helping kind.”

  I remembered. “There is no one else.”

  “Not my problem.”

  “It’s not for me.” I pointed to Jo. “She has a demon inside her.”

  “A demon, huh?” Flavini looked at me. “Your doing?”

  “Can we come in?”

  “Who is she?” he asked.

  “Jo Collier.”

  “You brought Jo Collier here.” For the first time he smiled. “You must be desperate. Does she know the full story?”

  Of course she didn’t. “Of course she does.” I glared at Flavini. “She knows that Sammy Williams caused the fire that killed her parents and that he was arrested for it.”

  “So she knows that story.”

  Jo got off the Vespa and joined us by the door. “I recognize you,” she said to Flavini. “You were there that night. The night of the fire.”

  Flavini’s smile broadened. “I was indeed.” He moved aside. “Come in. I’m sure you have questions for me.”

  Panic stabbed at my stomach. Other than Duffy and Williams, Flavini was the only one who could tell Jo and Alex the truth. But surely he wouldn’t do it.

  “We haven’t come about that,” I told Flavini as he shut the door behind us.

  “Why were you there?” Jo asked him.

  “The police asked for my help.”

  Jo looked around the fishing tackle shop. “You don’t seem part of law enforcement or fire control.” She looked across at me. “Rune brought me to you for help so you must know magic. What were you needed for that night?”

  Bringing Jo here had been more dangerous than I expected. Flavini was determined to cause trouble, and Jo was much too sharp not to pick up on his hints. I touched my hand to her forehead. “How are you feeling now? Better?”

  “If you’re interested in unearthing the mystery of your parents’ death, you should have come to me earlier,” Flavini said to Jo.

  “There’s no mystery,” I said. “Jo’s father wrote an article about the rise of supernatural enforcers in the crime gangs. Sammy Williams, a Red, went there that night and the fire was the result. He was arrested for his crime.”

  “We didn't know anything about you.” Jo ignored me.

  “Rune didn’t tell you?” Flavini asked.

  “No.” She glanced across at me. “My brother believes that Rune knows much more than he is telling us. I’m beginning to think he’s right. We recently learned that Sammy Williams was a wolf shifter.”

  “The investigations by Alex and Jo are what has gotten us into this recent trouble,” I said. “We were attacked by an eagle shifter today.”

  “Yet the shifter isn’t why you are here, is it? You mentioned possession.” Flavini threw a significant glance my way. “I bet someone else caused that.”

  I glared at him. “Are you going to help us or not?”

  “I told you before that I’m not the helping kind.”

  “She’s just a girl. You aren’t heartless enough to let her...” I didn’t even know for sure what was going to happen to her.

  “It’s not that simple,” Flavini said. “Some would consider me a traitor to my kind to help you with this.”

  Jo had gone silent, and I glanced back at her. Her chin was lowered onto her chest and hair fell across her face. “Jo, you still with us?” I asked her.

  Her head tilted upward. Her eyes had gone black again. It was no longer Jo in there. “The eternal war rages and I will play my part,” the voice of the other rasped.

  I knelt down and gripped Jo’s shoulders, trying to fight off despair. “Flavini, please. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do. I can’t lose her.”

  He went behind the counter of his shop. “I might be able to do something. But—”

  The rest of the words were lost as Jo let out an unearthly screech. “From smoke, we are born. In battle, we grow. I have come to take my place in this world.” Her hands flew to my neck and she threw herself at me.

  I staggered backward, toppling over. I grabbed at her wrists, trying to force her off me. Whatever was inside her gave her strength and her nails dug into my neck.

  “Flavini!” I shouted.

  “If I decide to help you, there will be a price,” Flavini said calmly, his voice infuriatingly measured.

  “Anything.”

  Smoke whirled around the back of Jo’s head, then the strength drained from her and she slumped against me.

  “What did you do to her?” I rolled her off me and onto the floor and brushed the hair from her face. Her eyes were shut; she’d lost consciousness.

  “Don’t worry,” Flavini said. “She’s okay. Come here to me. The price.”

  “The price,” I repeated. It sounded ominous. What had I agreed to?

  “Don’t worry. It’s not your first born son or anything.” He chuckled.

  I tucked a few strands of hair behind Jo’s ear, then stood and walked over to the counter. “Let’s get this over with, before you change your mind and decide to go all biblical on my ass with your price.”

  “This might even help you, who knows? I’ve become sick of it.” He held up a thin strip of barbed wire.

  “What’s that?”

  “Lean closer. Bend your neck.”

  I reluctantly did as he asked. I flinched as cold metal touched my neck. As Flavini fiddled with the barbed wire at my throat, dark smoke drifted off his fingers.

  “I’m not much for jewelery,” I said. The cursed and dark version, even less so.

  Flavini released the necklace, and I stepped back. “Let me guess. Won’t be so easy to get off.”

  “You’ve only met me twice and already you know me so well.”

  “What does it do?”

  “I’d hate to ruin the surprise.”

  “Goodie.” Nothing warmed my heart as much as imminent dark magical surprises. Still, anything was better than what was happening to Jo.

  I nodded down at her. “Will she be okay when she wakes?”

  “Apart from being possessed, yes.”

  “What?” I grabbed the lapel of Flavini’s shirt and pulled him close. “You said you’d cure her.”

  Flavini looked down at my hand. “Are you sure you want to threaten me?”

  I released Flavini and stepped back, forcing a calming breath out of my lungs. “Explain what you did.” When Flavini just stared at me, I added a soft, “Please.”

  “I said I would help her and I did,” he said. “My magic will hold what’s inside her at bay for a time.”

  “How long?”

  “A few days, maybe.”

  I touched the barbed wire necklace at my throat. “Only a few days. I had to pay a price for barely any help at all.”

  “You should be grateful that I helped you at all. If I’m not mistaken, it’s you who caused this.”

  My use of magic had allowed the demon to attach itself to Jo. “How?”

  “Because you are—”
He suddenly scowled. “I’ve done enough for you. Take her and don’t come to me next time you have a problem.”

  I lifted Jo up and carried her to the door. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “You know what they say about the road to hell,” Flavini said.

  “Well, you can go to hell.”

  “I don’t think so.” He shut the door behind me. “I have no intention of going back there.”

  Chapter 12

  Tuesday 18:55

  I parked outside Ten-two and cut off the engine of the scooter. Jo’s arms were clutched tightly around my waist, and my breaths came in uncertain gulps. A soft murmur came from Jo, and I leaned back to hear her better. “What was that?” I asked.

  “Thanks for everything, Rune,” she whispered. “You’ve been good to me and Alex. We don’t deserve it.”

  I calmed my breathing. I had to be strong for her. “I need you two more than you need me,” I whispered back. Jo’s gratitude made me feel dirty. It was guilt that drove me to care for them.

  “Why are we whispering?” she asked.

  “I think we are too tired to talk louder.”

  “It’s been a long day.” Jo punctuated her words with a loud yawn.

  If I wasn’t mistaken, the next day was going to be longer. “Come on.” I helped Jo off the bike, then slid off myself. I put my arm around her and she leaned against me as we walked into Ten-two.

  A shout from Pete diverted us into the living room.

  “What did we tell you about drugging girls and bringing them back here?” Pete paused the movie.

  I considered. “That it’s frowned upon and only to be used as a last resort.”

  “Dude. Don’t even joke about such things,” Pete said.

  “Sorry.”

  “How’s the little lady?” Tyler asked Jo.

  “That’s sexist,” Jo told him.

  “It is? Why?” Tyler asked.

  “It’s more how you said it than what you said,” Jo explained.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” I said. I had heard a thousand times worse from him.

  “It’s okay,” Tyler told me. “Jo’s helping me with self improvement.”

  “He wants to get a girlfriend,” Jo said.

  I did a double-take. Bearded Tyler in his pink dressing gown and purple crocs. “Him? With a woman?” He looked like he hadn’t showered in months.

  “It’s a long term project,” Jo said.

  “We are talking about a real woman here? Not one of those life sized dolls?” I asked.

  “They aren’t worth it.” Pete picked up the last quarter of a joint from the ashtray, relit it and took a drag. “From an evolutionary viewpoint, of course, women and procreating are all that matter. But we have transcended that and can make choices that aren’t rooted in our animal-like urges.”

  Jo walked across to a pile of empty pizza boxes and gave one a kick. A cockroach scuttled across the room. “You’ve reached the highest level of evolution, Pete.”

  I grinned and held my palm up toward Jo. “High five.”

  She shook her head.

  I lowered my hand and changed it to a fist. “Fist bump?”

  “Sometimes it would be nice to feel like I wasn’t older than the adults in my life,” Jo said with a sad shake of her head.

  Pete handed the joint across Tyler.

  “Guys.” I gestured at Jo.

  “You want us to offer her some?” Pete asked.

  “She’s fourteen.”

  “It’s not like I don’t know what weed is,” Jo said. “Many of my friends in school smoke.” She glanced around the room. “Strangely, it doesn’t hold any appeal to me.”

  “What about Alex?” I asked, remembering his blank workbooks. “Does he smoke?”

  “Not at all. It’s scary how driven that boy is,” Tyler said. “He’s going to be the President of the United States or...” Nothing came to him. “I think he’ll be president.”

  From what I’d seen, he had the criminal mind necessary for a career in politics. “Maybe.”

  Jo yawned.

  “We better go,” I said.

  “If you want self-improvement, you can join us in our Harry Potter marathon.” Pete pressed play on the remote and a flying car appeared on screen.

  “Harry Potter?” Jo asked.

  “You’d be surprised how much Harry Potter has to teach us,” Pete said. “It’s because its themes resonated with a generation that it became so popular. You can do college degrees on it these days.”

  Jo raised her eyebrows. “You thinking of going to college?”

  “Of course not. Colleges are just a way for the wealthy to turn young people into indentured servants. Do you know how much student debt gets racked up?”

  Jo spread her arms wide, taking in the peeling paint on the walls and the discarded pizza boxes. “Instead you embrace your freedom.”

  “Exactly,” Pete said.

  Jo was about to say something more when another yawn shuddered through her.

  “I’ll pass too.” I put my arm around Jo, directing her out. “Hasta la bananas.”

  “Hasta la bananas,” Pete and Tyler agreed solemnly.

  Jo and I trudged up the two flights of stairs. The spurt of energy Jo had demonstrated in the living room faded fast, and I had to lend her my arm for the last few steps. Whatever had possessed her had taken plenty out of her. At the door to the attic, the sound of a strange laugh gave me pause. I couldn’t think who it could be.

  The door was ajar, and I pushed it with my toe. It swung open to reveal a woman with purple-red hair sitting on Alex’s bed, laughing at something he’d said.

  The social worker. Florence.

  Beelzebub.

  Chapter 13

  Tuesday 19:05

  Alex rushed over to us as we entered. “How’s Jo?”

  “Much better.” I guided her over to the bed. Alex lifted the blanket, and I set her down, then rolled the blanket over her. She smiled gratefully. I shooed Alex away. “Let her sleep.”

  “Is she okay?” Florence asked.

  “Just tired.”

  “Why is she so tired?” she asked.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I said.

  Florence smiled at me. “Why ever not?”

  “Because I didn’t invite you in. You can’t just go charging into people’s living spaces. Surely there are some rules in the social worker guidebook. What’s it called? Mein Kampf, right?”

  “This fine young gentleman invited me in. He lives here too, does he not?”

  I shook my head. “No. He lives with his parents. He’s just visiting.”

  “And the girl?” she asked. She smiled at Jo. “Hello, dear.” Jo smiled back, already having lain her head on the pillow, looking too exhausted to reply.

  “She also lives with her parents. They both stayed too long and are too tired to return home tonight so they’ll have to sleep here. They are brother and sister.”

  “I know that. Alex and Jo Collier,” Florence said.

  I glared at Alex.

  “I didn’t say anything,” he said.

  “You let her in though, didn’t you. You realize she wants to take you and your sister back to Gorlam’s.”

  “Not necessarily,” Florence said.

  “Really?” A social worker had figured out that a seventeen year old illegally cared for a pair of unrelated younger teens and she didn’t want to take them into custody. What did she want? “Let’s talk.” I made my way to the door and held it open.

  Florence stood but didn’t move to follow me. Instead she studied the wall behind Alex with the stolen bar signs. “Impressive. Do any of them light up?”

  “Several. Do you want to see?” Alex scrambled to the side of his bed.

  “No, don’t do...” He switched them on. The sign saying, “Titties” lit up in pink, and two bar signs, “Oyster” and “Granadas”, lit up in blue. Across the top, in an arc, “Happy Hour” was lit up in red.

&
nbsp; “Transforms the room when it’s on,” Florence said.

  “For those who like to live in a strip bar,” I said.

  “Rune won’t let me switch it on much,” Alex said. “He claims it wastes electricity even though we don’t pay for electricity in Ten-two.”

  “How did he become an old fuddy duddy at seventeen?” Florence asked.

  “I know. Wait, I thought he was twenty.”

  Florence raised her eyebrows toward me. “Good thing I found a paper copy of his birth cert or we’d never know the truth.”

  “His driver’s license says he’s twenty.”

  “I bet it does.” Florence moved into the center of the room and examined the posters and inspirational quotes over Jo’s bed. The girl had already fallen asleep.

  “I never showed you my driver’s license,” I said to Alex.

  He shrugged. “I can’t trust what you say these days. Have to do my own investigations.”

  “So I’m under investigation now, am I?”

  “You were before. After what happened today...” Alex faced me with his hands on his hips.

  “What happened today?” Florence asked, glancing at Jo’s sleeping form.

  “Nothing.” Alex and I both spoke at once, then we glared at each other.

  “That’s a pretty dramatic amount of nothing.” Florence said, moving closer to Jo’s bed, reading the text over the Roosevelt poster. “That was always one of my favorite quotes: It is not the critic who counts.” She skipped ahead and quoted, “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood.”

  I had seen enough fighting for the day. “I’d prefer to be the man who is actually in bed, with a face marred by a pillow.” I glanced over at Jo’s sleeping form, suddenly feeling terribly weary.

  “It’s a bit early for bed, isn’t it?” Florence said.

  “And yet it feels a million years past my bedtime,” I said.

  “What about you, Alex?” Florence turned to him. “Would you be the man fighting? The critic? Or the man sleeping, like Rune here.”

  “The fighter,” Alex said. “One hundred percent.”

  “He’s not even a man yet,” I said.

  “Shows how little you know.” Alex had a smug look that I didn’t like. I remembered his schoolbooks in the closet. The empty workbook.