by Izzy Shows
Looking back on it, I think part of it might have been the underlying magic in my system rubbing them the wrong way. Maybe they’d sensed on some subconscious level that I was different, that something about me didn’t jive with them, and that was why they hadn’t wanted me.
It didn’t matter. I was past all that now. Even if sometimes I felt like it had stunted my emotional growth.
Diego was looking at me, I realized, with a funny sort of glint in his eyes.
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Heat burned in my cheeks when I realized what that look was. It was pity. I couldn’t stand pity. It broke me in ways that nothing else could.
I lifted my chin high and brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face. “Doesn’t matter. It is what it is. Let’s move on to something else.”
He kept looking at me with pity in his eyes for a moment before he blinked and it was gone. “All right, then. What kind of sandwich do you want?”
“Er...” I frowned, looking away for a minute as I thought about it. “I don’t know. A sandwich. Meat, cheese, lettuce. What other kind of sandwich is there?”
“What kind of meat?” He laughed.
“Turkey?” I fidgeted, uncomfortable with the questions. “I don’t know. Just make the sandwiches.”
“All right, all right.” He busied himself with prepping the sandwiches. I watched, curious as to what he was going to make and if it was going to be any different from how I made sandwiches.
He pulled them together with minimal fuss, although I noted that he added balsamic vinegar.
“Try that,” he said, once he’d put it on a plate along with a pile of crisps.
I carried the plate over to the small table against the kitchen wall, sat down and took a bite out of the sandwich. It was surprisingly good. I’d thought that the vinegar would make it taste weird, but it brought out the other flavours in pleasant ways. “It’s good. Thanks,” I said.
He beamed at me. “Sandwiches, my one specialty.”
I gobbled it all down, sandwich and crisps. I was famished, and it showed in the way I savaged the food, unable to slow down. I looked up halfway through to see him staring at me with shock in his eyes. “What?” I managed the word around a bit of food.
“You look like you haven’t eaten in five days,” he said.
My cheeks burned again, although I felt a little better when he laughed. If he was laughing, then it couldn’t be that bad.
I swallowed. “Magic makes me hungry, and I skipped breakfast, and I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I need energy.”
“You’re right about that,” he said, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Interesting that you’ve already associated magic with the need to refuel.”
“It’s simple math.” I shrugged. “Energy goes out. You need to put energy in. The magic doesn’t come from nowhere.”
“You’re right, but most people don’t grasp that on their own.”
I paused, the last bits of my sandwich halfway to my mouth. “You mean most mages just bumble about wondering why they’re so exhausted? No, I don’t buy that.”
“Well, sure, they figure it was a big day of exercise, essentially. But they don’t put two and two together about the energy output.”
I shrugged. “Whatever.” I shovelled the last bit of sandwich into my mouth and washed it down with the glass of water he’d given me. “So...”
He narrowed his eyes. “So?” I could see the suspicion in his expression.
“What are the vampires in the States like?”
“I don’t want to talk about the war,” he said, evading my question.
I huffed a little. “Yeah, I get that. I’m not asking about the war, though. I’m wondering what the actual vampires are like. Are they any different from the ones here in Europe?”
He was silent for a few seconds, looking down at his mostly untouched food. “What are the vampires in Europe like?”
Ah, so that was how we were going to do this. Little exchanges of information. I suddenly felt my stubborn streak grow strong inside of me, telling me to refuse to share information if he wasn’t going to do the same.
Settle, Blair, I told myself. Maybe if you give him something, he’ll do the same.
“They’re really formal,” I said. “They follow a strict structure that relies on the feudal lord system. Barons, kings, all that jazz.”
“Outdated,” he said, nodding. “Of course. Vampires have a hard time adapting as things change. When you spend a good chunk of time in one system, it can be hard to notice the little changes that appear as new generations take over. Customs that the new generations are raised in don’t communicate very well to the adults that already exist. You might have noticed the same parallel in humans--the old don’t adapt well.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, snorting. “Although, to be fair to them, I’m just as clueless when it comes to technology.”
“Ah, but that’s because of your magic. Magic doesn’t play well with technology, although they’re not so different when it comes down to what they can do. Humans are truly fascinating in their ability to create new things that assist with their natural limitations.”
I quirked my head to the side. “How do you mean?”
“Well, we’ve always had mirrors and other reflective surfaces for scrying. They allow us to see things in other areas of the world, and we adapted them to create a form of communication amongst Wizards. Humans created telephones to serve the same purpose.”
“I didn’t know about the scrying thing.” I frowned. “I wonder what else I don’t know about.”
“A good deal, I would think. You’ve been outside the community for the most part, right? I’d bet you don’t even participate with the other mages in London.”
“You’re right.” I hated that he had me pegged so well. “I don’t like working with other people. I don’t like people in general.”
“A holdover from your formative years, I would think. You weren’t socialized well, so you don’t try to do it as an adult.”
“You make me sound like a pet.” I glared at him. “Not socialized well. Feh.”
He looked amused, one eyebrow raised. “Did you play with other children much? Were your foster siblings kind to you? Did adults engage you in conversation about the things you were passionate about?”
I stared down at my empty plate, my mouth suddenly dry. I didn’t like talking about my childhood. For the most part, I kept the memories locked away in a hidden room inside my mind, never to be opened. There was no use in brooding over the past when it was something I couldn’t change.
“How did we get on this topic?” I jerked my gaze up to meet his.
He shrugged.
“What are the vampires like in the States?”
I could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t want to answer me. That was how we’d gotten onto this type of conversation: he was avoiding talking to me about what I wanted to talk about. He was changing the subject in subtle ways so I wouldn’t notice.
I’d have to be more perceptive in my dealings with Diego, I decided. He was as tricky as the Fae.
He cleared his throat. “They’re not as formal as the European vampires. They don’t have the same royalty structure, but they do have clear leaders. It’s a survival of the fittest situation over there; the strong lead, the weak die.”
“So, they don’t take care of their own.”
“No, they don’t. They’re not like humans, Blair. You can never forget that.”
I glared at him. Back to that. “What do they value besides strength?”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” he said. “It’s never going to be your problem. What’s going on in London with the vampires? Do you know anything else about this rebellion you’re worried about?”
He was much more abrupt with that topic change. The message was clear--my information for his. “I don’t know a whole lot about that,” I said. I didn’t want
to share how much I worked with Dudley.
He wouldn’t approve of that, I knew. He’d just tell me that it was going to bite me in the arse eventually, that the vampires couldn’t be trusted. He was like a broken record about that, and I wasn’t entirely interested in hearing it play again.
“You haven’t done any investigating?”
“I just found out there was a problem last night, and I spent the rest of the night making sure there weren’t any other vampires carousing.”
He nodded. “Smart, but you’re going to have to dig into this. The last thing we need is vampires running freely through the streets of London.”
“Do the vampires in the States have the same rules as the ones here about feeding?”
Yeah, I could change the subject just as quickly as he could. My eyes were narrowed as I regarded him.
He blinked, apparently surprised. “Er, no. They feed when they want to, where they want to. The only rules appear to be territorial--no one can feed in another one’s territory.”
I nodded. “Makes sense. That’s the case here, too.”
He frowned. “How do they feed, then? If they aren’t allowed to prey on the locals and they can’t feed outside their territory.”
“Well, I don’t think the same protection is provided to the tourists. So, you know, Americans aren’t safe here. But I’m also pretty sure they have those who serve them for feeding. Voluntary or otherwise. And I know there’s one club where all the supernatural creatures go, and there are some humans who go there as well. The humans there seem to enjoy being fed on, by vampires and demons alike.”
“And you don’t have a problem with that?” He looked upset, his eyebrows tightly drawn together.
“Who am I to tell someone what they are or aren’t allowed to do? If they want to share their blood with a vampire, that’s their decision. My job is to protect innocents, not to rule over their lives for them.”
He shook his head. “Your job is to stop the monsters.”
“I guess we see things differently, then. I’m not out on some extermination crusade to kill everything that’s different from me.” I’d experienced that kind of hatred before: people who hated me just because I was different. I didn’t see a need to treat others in the same way that I’d been treated. If I could adjust it at all, I was going to do everything I could.
Diego let out a deep breath. “You’re young. You’ll learn.”
I narrowed my eyes, but decided to let it go.
I was never going to learn to blindly hate.
Nine
I carried my dish to the sink and rinsed it off.
“You have a field out by your house, right?”
I jerked, surprised by Diego’s question. “Uh, yeah.” I almost asked him how he knew that, but then I remembered that he’d driven me home on one of the trial days. He must have seen it.
“And your house is pretty out of the way, all things considered. Why don’t we head over there? We can get some combat practice in.”
My heart leapt with excitement. “Hell, yeah!” I took off into the living room, threw on my jackets and grabbed up my bag. I whistled, and Weylyn came bounding into the living room from whatever part of the house he’d gone exploring in.
“We’re going home, boy,” I said.
“Are your lessons done already?” He quirked his head to the side.
“Nah. Diego wants to get combat practice in.”
“Interesting.”
Diego walked into the room a moment later and grabbed his jacket from a hook by the door. “Let’s get going.”
We walked out together, heading for his car. Weylyn and Desideria were behind us, having already shifted into their domestic forms. I’d taken the Metro over, so I was also happy to be getting a ride home. I couldn’t always depend on my car, which was why I was taking public transport more and more these days and saving the car for the more important trips. At least I wouldn’t have to head home surrounded by strange people.
I held the back seat door open for Weylyn and Desideria to climb in. Desideria shot me a haughty look--exactly the kind of expression you’d expect to see on a cat’s face--as she climbed in. Weylyn turned in a small circle on the back seat before planting himself firmly there. Then I climbed into the passenger seat.
We took off a moment later, to the sound of much growling in the back seat. Weylyn and Desideria weren’t getting along well, but that wasn’t entirely unexpected. Cats and dogs, you know--they’re not exactly fast friends. I hoped they’d get used to one another, as we were going to be spending a lot of time together.
I figured the training to become a Wizard was going to take a while, no matter how much I wanted to hurry and get it over with. Not that I didn’t enjoy spending time with Diego--he was very no-nonsense, and that was appreciated--but I knew he wanted to get back to his family and his more important matters. And I wanted to get back to protecting the city on my own, without these lessons taking up so much of my time.
“So, how come we’re doing combat magic? It didn’t seem like you thought it was very important.” I broke the silence after a while on the road, unable to take it much longer. I might not like conversation, but sitting in silence in close quarters with another person drove me batty.
He shot me a confused look before returning his attention to the road ahead. “I never said it wasn’t important, just that your education needs to be rounded out. You’ve got a lot in the combat department, and not a lot of finesse to back it up. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need as much combat practice as is possible. You’ve got a hard job ahead of you. Not the usual cushy Wizard job.”
I smirked. At least he was seeing the proper side of my job. “What do you mean, the usual cushy Wizard job? What do most Wizards end up doing?”
“Well, as I’m sure you can see, there are only so many positions for a protector of a city, and there are more Wizards than are needed for that. You met one of the healers, and there are also researchers. Some Wizards take on regular, mundane jobs and simply practice on the side. Some of them are from old families and don’t work at all.”
“Rich fucks, you mean.”
“Blair,” he said, sighing. “That’s not... No. That’s not what I meant, and you shouldn’t be so derogatory towards them.”
“Sorry, but I don’t see why you should be defending people who don’t do anything all day but live off the old money their families have accumulated. I’d bet dollars to donuts that they think they’re better than everyone, too.”
He was quiet for a minute, which only confirmed my thoughts. If he’d had a defence ready, he would have provided it already.
“They’re important, all the same. They bankroll a lot of the work we do.”
I shrugged, looking out the window at the passing buildings as we drove on. “It doesn’t sound very sustainable to me, having rich people stop working.”
“I never said they don’t do anything to expand their resources. Once you reach a certain level of wealth, it’s not hard to maintain it.”
“And the rest of us continue in the rat race to the bottom,” I said bitterly. I couldn’t possibly understand what it would be like to have enough money to just live. Or be the type of person who was happy living like that, not helping people. Sure, I might have been roped into this in the beginning, with very little choice in the matter, but I’d grown fond of the position. I liked helping people, liked keeping them safe, and I liked feeling that I was contributing to society.
I couldn’t imagine just sitting on my arse all day, not doing a damn thing.
“What’s your job?”
“I’m a protector, the same as you’ll be. Although, a little bit different.” He chuckled. “I don’t just protect a city. I command several Wizards in the state of Texas.”
I jerked my wide-eyed gaze over to him. “What do you mean, command?”
“You know we’re at war. The American side of things has all but formed its own army of Wizards. We’re trying to
get the British to help out with that, as they’ve got the largest contingent of Wizards at their disposal.”
“I wonder why that is. The States are bigger, overall.”
“Mmm, but most European Wizards belong to the British sector of the Order. It’s a holdover from the old times. There are already talks of separating. The French aren’t particularly fond of it, but they bend the knee all the same.”
“Bend the knee?” I snorted. “I’m sure the Chancellor likes that.”
“He’s not as bad as all that, you know. He really does care about the Order and keeping the Wizards safe.”
“He’s an arsehole who wanted to kill me,” I said. “He is as bad as all that.”
Diego didn’t have anything to say to that, which proved me right once again. The Chancellor had all but said flat-out that he didn’t think I was worthy of training to be a Wizard, and that he thought I was going to go Warlock at some point in the future. Two things had saved me in the end: Emily’s testimony and my aura reading. There was no defying the hard facts of an aura reading, especially when it was done in the fashion they’d used. Where everyone in the room could see it.
That had been embarrassing, to say the least. Watching the little version of me hurting so obviously in front of everyone.
Figuring out that Viktor was tainted had helped me somewhat, too. And I figured that being in a position where it had looked like I was going to lose to him was a plus; they wanted to think that if it came down to it, they’d be able to hunt me down with minimal difficulty.
But I hadn’t put my all into that fight. I’d figured it out from the beginning and had purposefully held back. If I’d wanted to fight him, I thought I probably could have taken him in a pinch.
Killing another human, though... That’s a different order altogether from killing one of the monsters.
Try telling that to my nightmares, though. My nightmares saw everything I did as murder, and all the monsters I’d killed haunted me. They came to me with their dead eyes and accused me, pointed a finger at me, and they kept asking me why.