by Rain Oxford
Logan shook his head.
“I’m from the northeast,” I said. “I live near the old wizard council, the wolf pack of Maseré Mason, and the coven of Yocum Stephen, so there are quite a few paranormals around. Plus, I run a bar that caters to paranormals.”
“Awesome. You’ll fit in perfectly here.”
“Actually, we’re not here to stay. I’m looking for my father.”
“Oh. I can ask around for a vampire missing his daughter.”
“He’s not a vampire. His name is Ascelin Ares.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow! I didn’t know he had a daughter… or that he was old enough to have an adult one.”
“You know him?”
“Yeah. He runs the magic shop right down the street. Turn left out of the parking lot and when you reach the light, his shop is on the left.”
“When are his hours?”
She shrugged. “He doesn’t have any set times. He comes and goes and doesn’t really bother with an explanation.”
“I’ll be back to pay for the drinks,” I said, bolting from my seat.
“Don’t worry about it, just let me know how it goes,” she called after me. Logan was right behind me when I reached the door. Instead of getting in the truck, I walked quickly. I could have run, but I felt more stable by walking.
I stopped in front of the shop. It didn’t have a name on it, only a sign on the door that said,
Sorry,
We’re Open
Hours of Operation:
Mon – Sun
Whenever I feel like it.
Logan opened the door for me and we entered the shop. There were five bookcases, piled high with magic supplies, such as potions, potion ingredients, books, crystals, precious stones, and small boxes.
The shop was so small and cramped that I could barely squeeze between the bookcases, which were sticking out from the left wall. Along the right wall was a glass cabinet, full of rings, coins, and wooden plaques with sigils etched into or painted on them. There was only a small space between the bookcases and the counter. Against the far wall was an old reading chair. Next to the chair was a small table with a candle and book on it.
“He has an impressive collection,” Logan said, grabbing a book off the wall. “I’m surprised I never heard of him before.”
I couldn’t say anything. The shock of being in a magic shop that belonged to my father was worse than I’d expected. He was alive, he was part of the paranormal world, and he hadn’t contacted me.
Logan went to a door behind the counter. I knew my father wasn’t in there. When he opened the door, it was to a closet-sized room, packed full of boxes. “I bet he found out I was coming and ran.”
The candle on the table suddenly lit, drawing my attention to the chair, where my father was now sitting. He looked exactly as I remembered him. He was five-nine, slender, with shaggy brown hair and silver/gray eyes. What was strange was that he looked the same age as he was when I last saw him.
His expression was sad, but I smelled very little emotion from him. On the other hand, the smells from the magic shop were overpowering. “Hello, Rory,” he said.
The whispers and pain filled my head. I didn’t fight it like before, but I didn’t let it show on my face. “You’re an asshole,” I said.
“I know.”
“How long have you been living here?”
“Time is irrelevant.”
“I was twelve when you abandoned me. Why? So you could own a magic shop?”
“I didn’t abandon you. I was taken away from you. When I finally made it back to this world, it was too dangerous to see you. I had to stay away to protect you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You’re here, so you might as well know everything.”
* * *
There was a tower with four doors on it. These doors each opened to a different world, one of which was Dothra, the world of demons. The tower was guarded and the doors were locked. There was only one key for each door in existence, and the keys were inside the key holders.
The man who owned the key to Dothra was a demon named Langril. Langril had a problem. As much power as the key gave him, it also cursed him so that he lost what was most important to him, which was winning. With the key in him, none of his plans could go right. To counter this, he manipulated other people and made them carry out his plans for him. This, too, often went wrong, so he had to make them want the same outcome as him.
The only way Langril could break his curse was to destroy the tower, but he wasn’t willing to give up the power. So he came up with a plan to create a gate portal. That way, he could destroy the tower and still go back and forth between worlds. The problem was that he needed someone else to create it.
When I was two, Ascelin made a deal with a demon named Natalia. In exchange for his soul and service, she would save me. Langril was her master, so Ascelin’s debt belonged to Langril, and he ordered Ascelin to build the portal.
Ascelin had to create it on both worlds, though, so he was dragged into Dothra when Langril got impatient. Once Ascelin was finished building the gateway on Dothra, Langril brought him back, but it wasn’t safe for him to talk to me, and he still had to build the gate on Earth. Furthermore, it had to line up with the one on Dothra.
It took a lot of time and work because the conditions had to be perfect. Ascelin practically had to rearrange the stream of magic through the world to make White Hills the power center of magic on Earth.
Magic flowed like unseen rivers and streams throughout the world. Magical people and animals could draw on these streams wherever they were, but the closer they were, the easier it was to draw. Magical creatures and fae naturally gravitated towards them and humans naturally avoided them.
The tower was built underground in caves where a number of these streams met. The gate had to be created in a place of even greater magic or the tower would tear it apart. Thus, Ascelin had to shape the streams to turn White Hills itself into a lake of power. This drew more paranormals by the day and even the towns around it (which made up the points of a pentagram) were affected.
Ascelin was able to do this in peace for a long time until Langril fell victim to his curse once again; a few months ago, he got trapped in another world and his enemy, Kea, escaped, along with eleven of his followers, called shadow walkers. These demons could appear anywhere through shadows and were far more powerful than a regular wizard. They were also after Ascelin because they thought he knew things about Langril, particularly how to kill him.
Fortunately, Ascelin, having spent many years in Dothra, knew how to hide from demons. Contacting me was too risky, however, because demons wouldn’t hesitate to use me against him. Nevertheless, they discovered our bond and decided that if they couldn’t find Ascelin, I could.
* * *
“How did they find out I was your daughter?”
“Most likely, it was because you were telling paranormals that you were looking for me. It doesn’t matter, though. Without Langril here to stop them, we’re all screwed. He’s the only one Kea fears.”
“Kea doesn’t sound like a particularly scary guy.”
“I won’t say his real name. If I do, he’ll find me and send his servants after me. His followers call him the Shadow Master.” He stood, pulled a bottle out of his pocket, and held it out for me to take. “Drink this.”
“No, thanks.”
“It will stop the whispers for a few days.”
“How do you know about them?”
“Natalia warned me when Kea came here that you would hear it. Kea is sending his command to all demons psychically, even though his shadow walkers are the only ones who have to obey… for now.” He gestured to the scar on my shoulder, which was still covered by my shirt. “Since Natalia’s magic is inside you, you’re hearing that call.”
I didn’t like the fact that a demon was in my head. I took it and drank it. It looked and tasted like really strong tea. It was only a moment before I felt re
lief from both the whispers and pain.
“So we had a bitch of a time taking out one of the shadow walkers and there are ten more. How are we supposed to defeat them?”
“I don’t know that we can.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Logan said. “I thought we were here to save Brandy, not the world.”
“I see your point, but I would rather kill the bastard who took her than just take her back.”
“That, I can agree with.”
“And who are you?” my father asked Logan.
“I’m Logan Wayne, Rory’s boyfriend.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding surprised. “It’s a small world. That must be one of those names that is popular in the paranormal community. My brother’s name is Logan Hunt.”
“You have a brother?” I asked.
“Yes. You’ve never met him because we’re not close. He’s twenty years older than me and a wizard, so we don’t have much in common.”
“You’re a wizard?” I shouted, shocked.
“No, no. My brother is a wizard. I am not. I have spent most of my life avoiding magic, yet I keep getting dragged into it. We were both born in England, but he spent most of his life here in the United States, whereas I didn’t move here until you were born. So they took your friend and offered to give her back to you if you give them me?” my father asked.
“Yes.”
“Very well. I don’t know how to kill Langril, so they can’t get anything from me.”
“I’m not handing you over to them.”
“Why not? I haven’t been a part of your life since you were twelve. Brandy means more to you. Theo has told me a lot about both of you.”
“Yes, it’s true that she means a lot to me. I’m also pissed beyond words that you abandoned me, because you did. That doesn’t mean I’m giving you to them. You’re still my father.”
“I wish I could have been a better one to you.”
“We can talk about it later, after I have Brandy back. There’s a lot I have to say to you and I’m not quite sure how to.”
“I know.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I suspected as much. I wanted to---”
“I don’t care what you wanted,” I interrupted. “I was taken into child care at twelve, tortured by paranormal hunters, shot in the chest, and---”
“I was in Dothra at that time.” Interrupting ran in the family, apparently. “I had no way of stopping it.”
“I was a child. You should have prepared better or something.”
“I wasn’t a good father to you even when you were young. I tried to keep you out of the paranormal world when I should have been preparing you for it.”
“What about Ronez?”
He blanched and I smelled shame on him. “He was a wizard, but a good man who would have kept you out of Langril’s hands. My brother would have raised you in the paranormal world. I don’t know why the police sent you into the foster system instead of to Ronez. I expect it was a filing error.”
“Where is he now? Why couldn’t he help me after you returned here?”
“He was killed.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. At least you didn’t end up with my brother.”
“You think I was better off in the streets? With hunters? With vampires?”
“A worse fate would have been to work for Langril.”
“I don’t work for him, but I have met him,” I said.
His eyes widened. “Theo didn’t tell me that. Please tell me you didn’t get any help from him. He only helps someone if he wants something from them.”
“He was the one who told me that it was Marluk we were up against. He said I owed him a---”
“A favor? That’s how he gets people.”
“Defeating the shadow walkers comes first,” Logan said.
“You’re right; explaining is secondary,” I agreed. “Where did they take her?”
“I don’t know that, either.”
“How could you not know?”
“Why would I know where they are?”
“They didn’t tell me where they are, so I figured you would know…” And then I realized, in the rush to save Brandy and find my father, I was an idiot. “I led them to you. Of course you don’t know where they are because they wouldn’t want us to attack them on our terms.”
And then, the lights went out.
Chapter 11
My vision adapted instantly, so I saw Logan pull his gun. “Olapireta,” my father said. Instantly, the floors, walls, and ceilings lit with white and blue magic symbols and sigils.
“Well, that’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Logan said. I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or if he was genuinely impressed.
“Does this keep the demons out?”
“It dampens the power of anyone who has ill will towards me.”
“That sounds extraordinarily unreliable,” I said.
“It’s the best possible defense against demons,” my father argued. “Their magic is based on emotion. To kill someone with magic, they have to really want the person dead. To heal someone, they have to really want that person to get better. To---”
“I get it,” I said.
“That makes sense,” Logan said. When he had healed me, he insisted doing so required kissing me, because he had to feel affection for me to heal me.
“Do you still have the iron gun?” I asked.
“Yes, and the shackles.” He pulled the shackles out of his pocket and handed them to me.
“My thrall will work on them,” I said. “So we have that if we can get them to hold still.”
“It will work if you’re strong enough,” my father said. “They don’t have mind control, so your vampire talents can work against them, but their magic is strong.”
“They’re not going to have Brandy with them, so we need to capture and interrogate one of them.”
My father pointed at a five-foot-wide equilateral triangle in the floor and one identical above it. “The triangle is the safest spot. I doubt even Langril could break through it. The circle is the strongest trap.” He pointed out a circle in the floor with a matching circle in the ceiling. Both shapes were filled with magic symbols.
Logan extended his hand towards the triangle and received an electrical shock as if there was a ward over the blue lines.
A shadow tried to break through a line of blue and was repelled with a sound that was suspiciously similar to two lightsabers clashing. I really didn’t know my father enough to say whether it was a coincidence or not.
On the other side of the room, a bookshelf wobbled. My father was quick to grab it, but he couldn’t stop the items on it from flying off the shelves. I knew it was a distraction and followed the shadows around the destruction. One of them went for Logan, but three of them went to my father. I grabbed my father and pushed him into the triangle. One of the demons tried to manifest, but as the darkness converged, the invisible barriers acted like light and ripped them apart.
Meanwhile, the bookshelves had tipped and collapsed like dominos. Ink, paint, and other liquids spread across the floor, covering the illuminated symbols and shapes.
“They’ve gotten smarter,” my father said.
I had to stop the liquid from reaching my father and the triangle protecting him. There was a blanket in the reading chair, but getting it would require leaving the dwindling safe area. “Can you fight them off with magic?” I asked Logan.
“Not like this.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. While his deliberate motion conveyed serenity and confidence, I knew it was actually hesitation. He didn’t want to release his magic and he was hoping something would interrupt us.
I left him to it and, at my top speed, I raced across the muck, grabbed the blanket off the chair, and back to the safe lines, making sure not to step on the lines since my boots were tracking the liquid. It didn’t matter, we had less than a minute before it would cover the floor.
I laid th
e towel outside the triangle. “This isn’t going to work for long. Can you do any magic?” I asked my father.
“I invent things. I don’t do magic.”
He was lying. I could smell it on him. I didn’t know why, but it made me realize something very unsettling; I trusted Logan more than my father. Logan had gotten his shirt open and was pulling off his chain. He slid the tip of his thumb against the end of it in a pentagram motion. Then he started peeling it off his skin. As he did, the two-dimensional ink turned into a three-dimensional chain.
Logan’s teeth were clenched, conveying the pain it caused him. I couldn’t do anything but try to protect him until he got it off and became a psychotic asshole with demon powers.
I felt a burning sensation as a shadow wrapped around me. It was difficult to fight a non-corporeal opponent, as my strength was useless. Magic would have been really helpful. Logan had half of the chain off.
I pulled out my phone, turned on the flashlight feature, and aimed it at the shadows. It helped, but it didn’t dissolve them like a stronger light would have. Two demons began taking shape.
“You said your brother was a wizard. Can you call him?” I asked.
“He doesn’t have a phone,” my father answered. “I have a number of friends, but no one who can help us can use a mobile phone.”
“Close your eyes,” Logan warned. I did without questioning him. Even with my eyelids closed, I could see something bright. Gentle warmth surrounded me, taking away the sickly heat that was creeping up my legs. When I opened my eyes, Logan looked worn out, but the shadow around my legs was gone, as were the two trying to take form.
“Stopping them from forming isn’t going to get Brandy back and at least I can punch one of them if they’re corporeal. Plus, then you can shoot them.”
“They can’t use magic in shadow form, either, except to flash the lights,” Ascelin warned me.
Logan had five more inches of chain to tear off, but he was swaying on his feet and sweating from exertion. “Do you need me to do it?” I asked.