The woman was sitting on my sofa with her knees together and her hands clasped, shivering slightly. She didn’t try to speak as I knelt over the construct and gave it a quick search. I came up empty, as expected; mages don’t send construct assassins out with identification. The wounds hadn’t bled or oozed. Most constructs are basically a big energy battery with a simple guidance program and this seemed to be one of the more basic types, an outer shape wrapped around a jellylike storage material. At a glance it looked similar to the ones I’d seen made at Richard’s mansion: a short-range design, without the intelligence or stamina to operate for long on its own. That suggested whoever had sent it was close by. The stiletto had been a one-shot designed to disperse a construct’s energy pattern. It had worked perfectly. I’d have to get another.
I was avoiding looking at the woman. I sat on the chair facing her and met her gaze.
It’s hard to describe just what made her so incredibly beautiful. She had near-black hair, long and slightly wavy, falling down her back and framing a diamond-shaped face with slightly tanned skin and dark eyes. She was small, only a little over five feet, but with such perfect proportions that you wouldn’t realise it unless you stood right over her. She wore dark clothes that looked so simple that they had to be very expensive, and a single ring on her right hand. Somehow, though, neither her clothes nor her features seemed to matter—they were the adornments of a painting or a picture, not the real thing. What made her so captivating was something else, not so easily named: the way she moved, the glance of her eyes, the manner and sound and form. All I wanted to do was sit and gape. If I’d let myself fall into her eyes, I think an army of constructs could have battered down the door and I wouldn’t have noticed.
“What’s your name?” I said. I’d meant to say Who are you? but found myself changing my mind at the last second.
“Meredith.” She leant forward a little. “Thank you so much. You saved my life.” Her dark eyes shone with a hint of tears. “Without you I wouldn’t have had a chance.”
I felt my face burn and wanted to look away. A less polite but more vocal part of me spoke up with several suggestions as to how she could show how grateful she was. “Don’t worry about it. Where did that thing come from?”
Meredith shivered. “I don’t know! I was just—” She covered her face with her hands and started to cry.
Somehow I found myself on the sofa next to her, my arm around her shoulders, speaking quiet reassurances. Meredith hung onto my sleeve and kept crying. Gradually her tears ran dry and eventually she excused herself and vanished into the bathroom. She was gone for ten minutes and when she reappeared she looked a bit more composed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go to pieces. I’m not usually like this.”
“It’s okay, you just had a shock. I did a lot worse my first time.” Was that true? I couldn’t remember. “Feeling better?”
Meredith nodded. “Yes, thanks. I must look terrible.”
“Really, you don’t.”
Meredith returned to the sofa, sitting down naturally next to me. “I’m sorry for all this. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was trying to find your shop and then that … that thing started chasing me.”
I glanced over at the construct’s body, still lying on the floor. Meredith followed my gaze. “I’ve never seen one before. I heard stories but—”
“It’s an assassin,” I said. “Programmed to go after you. It only attacked me when I got in its way.”
Meredith shivered. “It’s horrible. There … won’t be any more?”
I shook my head, and Meredith sighed in relief. “Do you know who sent it?” I asked.
“I don’t know their names. I was so afraid they’d come after me. I heard it and I just wanted to find you and—”
“Why me?”
Meredith looked up in surprise. “But you’re famous. Everybody knows about you. You fought all those Dark mages in that battle in the British Museum. And you can see the future.”
“Um …” That took me aback. I’m definitely a lot better known since that business with the fateweaver but it was the first time I’d heard the word famous. “And you thought I could help you?”
Meredith clutched my arm. “Please don’t send me away! I don’t know if they’ll try again. I know it’s a lot to ask but can’t I stay here? Just for tonight?” Wide dark eyes looked up at me pleadingly.
I’m not sure I could have said no even if I’d wanted to.
And that was how, an hour later, I found myself lying on my bed with Meredith on the sofa in the next room, about ten feet away. The house was quiet but for the sounds of the city. I could hear the shouts and calls from the restaurants one street over and the hum of traffic from the main hub of Camden Town.
I found myself listening for what Meredith was doing. I couldn’t quite hear her breathing and I wondered if she’d moved. Maybe I should have offered her the bed. No, that wouldn’t have been smart. All of my items were here. But still …
I shook my head sharply in frustration. What was wrong with me? I’d even found myself wondering if she might come through into my room—
No. Stop being stupid and think. Who was she? She obviously wasn’t a normal. An adept or a mage? It was the kind of thing I would normally have asked but for some reason I hadn’t. In fact, I hadn’t taken any of my normal precautions.
It’s rare for there to be a woman sleeping over in my flat. Like, once-in-a-blue-moon rare. I could say it’s because I’m a diviner and it would be sort of true—being able to know another person’s secrets doesn’t do wonders for a relationship. I could also say it’s because I suck at romance and that’s definitely got something to do with it—I’ve never been good at knowing what to say to women and my lifestyle hasn’t given me much chance to improve. I could say it’s because I used to be an outcast from both mage factions and that sure didn’t help.
But if I’m being honest the biggest reason is that I have serious issues with trusting people. Since I was young, every time I’ve put my trust in another person and depended on them, it’s ended badly. Sometimes very badly. I first learnt magic as a Dark apprentice in a society where everyone was a predator and giving away the wrong piece of information could get you hurt or killed. Things got worse before they got better and by the time I got to relative safety it was burnt into me to treat everyone as a potential enemy. I don’t like it—it’s not natural to me—but it’s an ingrained habit and it’s saved my life at least once. Even if I don’t have any reason to be suspicious of someone, or even if I’m actually trying to be trusting, there’s a part of me that stays on guard, always alert.
So I didn’t fall asleep. I dozed, but that wary animal instinct stayed alert, listening for movement from the living room. And when Meredith’s phone gave a muted buzz, I was awake instantly. I heard the sound of her picking up and the murmur of her voice, then her footsteps crossing the room and the creak of the door.
I swung my legs off the bed and moved to the connecting door, my bare feet silent on the carpet. The living room was empty and I could see the blanket lying ruffled on the sofa. The door to the landing was open and I could hear the sound of Meredith’s voice from below.
I crossed the living room and slipped through, the planks of the landing cool under my feet. Through the banisters, I saw a flicker of movement: Meredith was below, in the hall, her head down, speaking into her phone. “…have much choice!” Her voice was pitched low and she sounded scared and angry. “You said they wouldn’t come after me!”
The other person replied, an inaudible buzz. Whatever they said, it didn’t make Meredith any happier. “Don’t give me that! Did you know this was going to happen?”
“…”
“No! This wasn’t the deal.”
“…”
“Don’t you dare.”
“…”
“What, be your bait?” Meredith gave a shaky laugh. “You wish.”
“…”
“No shit I’m angry! If
I hadn’t come here I’d be dead right—”
“…”
“Oh, now it’s my fault?” Meredith paced up and down the hall, only barely keeping her voice down. “Screw you!”
“…”
“Go to hell. Why am I even talking to you?”
“…”
“Yeah well, I’m a lot safer here than with you.”
The voice on the other end started to answer again but Meredith cut it off halfway through. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” She hung up and switched off the phone.
I withdrew silently back across the living room, pulled the door to behind me, and lay down on my bed. A minute later I heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by the sound of the door to the landing being softly shut. A moment later the sofa’s springs creaked and there was the rustle of blankets followed by a soft sigh.
I lay awake, listening, but nothing further came. It was a long time before I fell asleep.
chapter 3
I woke to the sun on my face. Rays were streaming through my bedroom window, lighting up the drab room in yellow and white. Outside the window I could hear the chatter and bustle of the city. The storm had passed and the sky was blue with white cloud.
From the living room and kitchen, I could hear the bustle of movement. Meredith was making breakfast. I rose quietly and slipped into my jeans and shoes, then moved out onto the landing. The smell of something frying drifted from under the door to the kitchen and I heard the clink of plates. I opened the door out onto the balcony and stepped outside, shivering slightly in the cold, and the sounds from the kitchen cut off as I shut the door behind me. I climbed the ladder set into the wall and stepped off onto the roof.
It was a beautiful morning. Puffy white clouds were scattered across a clear sky and the sounds of the city washed up all around me, carried upon fresh, cold air. Puddles of water were scattered on the flat roof, left over from last night’s storm, but the sun had been up long enough for most of the damp to dry. A breeze was blowing, cool and brisk, sending ripples racing across the water. Chimneys and TV aerials rose up all around, and a little farther away were road and rail bridges as well as the square shapes of blocks of flats. The morning sunlight was clear and crisp, outlining every brick and stone in sharp-edged shadow. It was London: dense, ancient, and my home.
I took out my phone and dialled Talisid’s number. In case you’re wondering why I was climbing onto the roof to make a phone call, it’s because I didn’t want to be overheard.
It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Stop looking at me like that.
Talisid answered when I’d expected. “Morning, Verus.”
“How did things go on Friday?”
“Routine. As far as the Council’s concerned, the matter’s closed.”
“Did you figure out what killed the barghest?”
“No need. Now that it’s dead, no one has any reason to spend the time.”
“Is the body in storage?”
“Destroyed.”
“Oh.”
“Did you want it examined?”
“I’d been hoping it would be.” I couldn’t honestly say it was unexpected but it was a bit disappointing all the same.
“I could always give you the autopsy report.”
“…Wait, what?”
I heard Talisid chuckle. “Glad to see you’re not entirely immune to being surprised.”
“I thought you just said there wasn’t any need?”
“There wasn’t. I had the corpse analysed anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because you were curious.”
“And you thought you’d satisfy my curiosity?”
“No, I decided if you were curious, it was probably worth looking into. Consider it a compliment.”
I snorted. “All right, Sun Tzu. What did you find?”
There was the rustle of paper in the background. “Physically, the barghest was completely undamaged apart from minor bruises and lacerations. As far as nonmagical analysis can show, the creature was in perfect health.”
“Apart from being dead?”
“Apart from being dead. Magical scans also negative. Fatal life or death magic usually leaves distinctive evidence in the cellular structure, and the same goes for mind and charm magic in the brain. There was no evidence that living family magic had caused the creature’s death.”
I frowned. “So that means … what? It wasn’t killed by injury or by magic?”
“Not quite. There was no spell residue but there was something missing. The creature’s natural residual aura was only a fraction as strong as it should have been. Something drained the energy right out of the thing. The examiner thinks that was the cause of death, and I agree. Barghests are magical creatures. Take away their magic, no more barghest.”
“Huh.” I stood thinking. “That’s not a normal way to kill something, is it?”
“It’s not. What’s your interest in this?”
“Favour for a friend. Do you want me to copy you in if I find anything?”
“Please. Was there anything else?”
“Yeah. Know anything about a woman called Mere-dith?”
“Meredith … Dark, petite, late twenties to early thirties? Could cause a traffic accident walking down the street?”
“That’s the one.”
“Unaligned mage. Affiliated with several different Council mages over the years, but she’s always stayed independent. Probably got a few connections in the Dark camp as well, though nothing’s been proven. She dabbled in politics for a while and used to be a regular on the social circuit, but she got too close to that business with Dagon last year and had her fingers burnt rather badly. Haven’t seen her at the balls since then.”
I paced slowly up and down. “What type of mage?”
“Enchantress. Not too powerful but very skilled. Could twist men around her little finger.”
I stopped moving.
“Verus? You there?”
I was silent for a few seconds. “Yeah,” I said at last.
“Is there a problem?”
“No,” I said. “No problem. Any connections?”
“No master, no apprentices. Her name’s been linked with plenty of other mages, but the relationships never seem to last. They’re usually active in Council politics and always men. You can guess what the rumour mill has to say about that, but the truth is no one knows very much about her.”
I stood quietly on the roof. “Thanks for the help,” I said eventually.
“No problem. I take it you weren’t asking from academic interest.”
“No.”
Talisid sounded amused. “Well, consider yourself forewarned. You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”
“Assuming I’m around to tell you. I’ll be in touch about the barghest.”
“Good to hear. Until then.” Talisid hung up.
I lowered the phone and stared down at it. The cool wind blew over me, ruffling my hair and chilling my bare arms, and I shivered.
Enchantresses use charm magic, also known as emotion magic. Men who can use it are called enchanters, but they’re rarer and it’s always seen as one of the stereotypically female branches. They can’t affect thoughts and concepts in the way a mind mage can, but they’re masters of feeling and emotion. In terms of raw power they’re on the low end of the magical scale but they have one distinctive ability: their magic is incredibly hard to detect. It’s almost impossible to tell when an enchantress is using her magic and when she’s not. The whole distinction between magical and normal is much more fuzzy for enchantresses than it is for other mages; magic for them is as natural as talking and just as easy, and they’re sometimes not aware they’re using it at all.
Mages tend to be wary of enchantresses, almost as much as they are of diviners. Our emotions are one of the most basic parts of what we are. The idea that someone can make you like or love or hate, and that there’s no way to know when they’re doing it … well, most people find it di
s-turbing.
Including me. As soon as Talisid had said the word enchantress, I’d had a jolt. Right now I was running back through my memories from last night. Had I been under Meredith’s spell? Was that why I’d let her in and helped her so readily? I’d hardly even asked her any questions. A subtle urge to trust, to protect …
Or maybe it was what I would have done anyway. This is why charm magic’s such a headache. It could have been magic. Or it could have been because Meredith had needed my help and asked me for it, or because if I hadn’t acted she would have been killed right there on my shop floor, or because she was really hot and I’m single.
I shook my head and started climbing back down to the balcony. It was time to ask Meredith some questions.
The smell of frying bacon greeted me as I walked into the living room. The table was set, and Meredith was working at the kitchen unit. She looked different in the morning sunlight, but just as lovely. She turned at the sound of the opening door. “Oh, you’re up! I’ll be done in just a minute.”
“Okay,” I said, but didn’t sit down. Instead I walked over to see bacon sizzling in the frying pan, along with some mushrooms.
“Was it okay to use your kitchen?” Meredith asked. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“No, that’s fine. Uh … where did you find all this?” My kitchen isn’t exactly what you’d call well stocked.
“Oh, I went out and got a couple of things. You don’t mind? I made some for you too.”
“Thanks.” My breakfast usually doesn’t get any more advanced than cereal. This smelt really good.
“Great!” Meredith took out a couple of mugs. “Tea or coffee? I didn’t know which you prefer so I made both.”
Alex Verus Novels, Books 1-4 (9780698175952) Page 34