Claimed By Magic

by Claire Marta

  Jasmine absorbed the titbit of information. “Why are they here?”

  A trace of a smile ghosted Twitch’s lips. “We use them as peace keepers. They’re generally neutral and they can’t be bribed or seduced.”

  “Why not?” Jasmine asked, still bursting with questions.

  “Jinn have no interest in money,” Twitch continued patiently. “They also might look male, but they’re not. They’re kinda like Ken dolls. It’s all smooth down there, or so I have been told by those brave enough to look. They don’t have sexual desires, as far as I know they don’t even mate. They just come into existence.”

  “Why do you need peace keepers?” she asked, feeling more than a little intrigued now.

  Twitch studied her with wary amusement. “Each magical house thinks they’re better than the rest. There’s always a feud or argument going on. The arrogance in this place is fucking breath-taking, it’s part of the reason I left.”

  Jasmine was more confused than ever. Peacekeepers? Houses? What the fuck was he talking about? All she wanted was some straight answers.

  “Houses?” she asked with a sigh, not bothering to hide her annoyance. This just seemed to amuse her friend more. He appeared to be enjoying it.

  “Yes, there are six ruling houses on the island. The heads of the houses and oldest members make up the council that’s in charge here.”

  “Do you belong to a house then?” Jasmine asked slowly.

  “Yes.” Twitch’s eyes were shifting around nervously. He hummed to himself for a moment as if her question had made him uncomfortable. The amusement was gone from his features. His anxiety seemed to be back in full force.

  The drone of an engine grew behind them. Turning, Jasmine spotted a steam powered tram, which trundled towards them through the mist, in a smooth swaying motion. White smoke chugged from its roof in a thick stream. As it passed, Twitch looped his arm around her waist and hoisted her up through the open door. A moment later, he was beside her in the carriage. The vehicle wasn’t very packed. People were sitting on the rows of bench seats.

  Trying not to stare too much, Jasmine’s attention danced over them. There were more people with implants and gleaming metal attached to different parts of their bodies. Pointed eared elves sat chatting idly. Several men with necklaces made of bone sat huddled at the back. Their faces were painted in white strips. Warily, she noted they were wearing nothing but tan coloured loin cloths.

  Not far from them, were two men garbed in yellow robes. Their white hair so long they had it looped around their shoulders in long braids. She wondered if they were druids. People were looking her up and down. They seemed to be interested in what she was wearing. Jasmine guessed it wasn’t surprising, as she was the only one who seemed to be wearing jeans.

  They were in a nicer part of town now. The buildings here were grander. The cables that adorned the brick work had been placed more securely, and with care. Brightly coloured shutters on all the windows were well maintained. Carvings on the doors here were in abundance. All of them crafted and etched finely into the woodwork and door frames.

  The tram jolted to a stop with a hiss. Jumping off, Twitch helped her down. Tendrils of mist were curling around their ankles. It was almost playful. As if it and the magic she could sense here were entities in their own right.

  “Are you wearing the bracelet I gave you?” Twitch asked as they began to walk again.

  “Yes.” Jasmine fingered the bangle. The hard metal felt strangely comforting through the sleeve of her yellow rain coat. A platinum band, it held a sapphire like gem at the top. Intricate designs had been etched into its surface. She was pretty sure it was one of Twitch’s creations. He had yet to explain what it did. When he shoved it into her hands late last night she had been too cranky to ask. Jasmine knew though it wasn’t just a sparkly babble.

  “The blue jewel, tap it, and a force field will surround you. It lasts a few minutes.” The mage quickly explained.

  Jasmine’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Force field?”

  He wrinkled his nose for a moment then made a little noise. “Well, I mean the term force field loosely….” Avoiding her gaze, he played with a button on the front of his coat. “It creates a barrier that will stop you from getting hurt…well it should anyway.”

  Did that mean it was dangerous here? What exactly was her friend not telling her? Jasmine experienced a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  Fretfully, she began to nibble on her lower lip. “Ermm, OK.”

  His green-eyed gaze slid sideways to meet hers. “Just don’t take it off while we are here…in case you need it. Promise me.”

  Jasmine nodded. “I promise. Why am I going to need it?” Her voice was laced with apprehension.

  “Shit happens. It’s better to be prepared and all that crap,” he responded, sounding slightly evasive. “You’re on an island of magic, I just want to make sure you have some protection if you need it…maybe, I’m just being paranoid,” he muttered, fingertips of one hand stroking the lapel of his coat again.

  “Twitch you’re making me nervous.”

  “Sorry Jazzy.” His expression turned regretful. “I just want to keep you safe, so you can enjoy your visit.”

  Their pace was slowing. They seemed to have reached their destination. Elegant red bricked buildings towered around them. They were taller and grander than the rest they had seen. Many had high reaching towers and spires, which reminded her of castles. They had to be what she had seen from the boat, yet the russet coloured towers where the airships still loomed were further on. From what she could see, as the mist thinned and shifted, it was part of a daunting looking structure. She didn’t have a chance to make out all of it as the mist moved again. Jasmine was left with the impression of a palace.

  The mage’s steps faltered. He stopped completely outside the largest building of them all. Looming over them, it was dark and imposing. Strangely, it reminded Jasmine of an ostentatious mausoleum. Black granite steps led up to an immense stately metal door. It was tarnished with age. Runes were carved deep into the smooth, silvery surface and a large brass knocker in the shape of a ferocious dragon’s head adorned the centre.

  Jasmine could make out words engraved above the entryway. They looked like faded Latin. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to make them out. She only knew a handful of Latin and that was only because of the books she’d read at work.

  Tei Ipsum Nosce – Know Thyself.

  She frowned. As mottoes went, that seemed a little strange. Twitch’s face was filled with apprehension. His eyes were wide and fixed on the door as he stood frozen. The shadowy memories of a past he had never spoken of played briefly across his youthful features.

  Jasmine saw the heartache, the guilt, pain, regret and even fear. The urge to comfort him was strong. Yet she didn’t move. She had a feeling he needed a moment to come to terms with the whirlpool of emotions. Then it hit her. Twitch had brought her for moral support. Why he couldn’t have just told her was beyond Jasmine. He did not want to be here. This was obvious. So why the hell had he come back? What had forced him home? It had to be something important.

  Twitch pushed the heavy, solid door open and ushered Jasmine inside. An empty, shadowy corridor greeted them with an eerie silence. Being out of the chilly fog, though, felt good. Jasmine wondered if there was anyone at home. Antiques and expensive statues lined the walls. The whole place was well ordered. Curling her fingers into her palms, she made a mental note not to touch anything. This shit looked like it was worth a fortune.

  Twitch strode further down the hall. Head tipped to one side, he seemed to be listening to the silence. The front door had creaked loud and ominously when they had entered. Anyone around would have heard the sound. So where was everyone?

  “Well, I am here Grandfather as you requested,” Twitch called out, with a hint of impatience.

  “Is that you Morgan?” Came a muted reply from another room.

  Twitch made a humming sound in his thro
at as he began to finger the strap of his backpack nervously. With a resigned sigh, he plodded towards the sound. Jasmine followed quietly. Twitch was her best friend. If he needed support through this, she was here for him. Jasmine just wished he would tell her what the fuck was going on. She didn’t like walking into things blindly.

  The room they entered looked like some kind of library. The walls were lined with dark wood panelled book cases. Each one was neatly stacked with perfectly pristine tomes, books, and scrolls. They had been meticulously placed. Someone treated them with love and care; that was more than obvious. The place also looked like it had been dusted within an inch of its life. It was freakishly spotless.

  There was a red velvet Edwardian sofa in one corner, again in perfect condition. Several padded high back chairs matched it. Two cherry wood coffee tables stood in different places in the room. One held a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid with glasses beside it. A thin, sleek laptop lay closed on the other table. In another corner, was a large antique globe of the world. It was the kind Jasmine had only seen in old films. The thing looked like it should be in a museum. She felt like she had taken a step back in time.

  An old man was sitting back in a massive leather chair beside a roaring fireplace. Raising his head from the large tome he was reading, sea green eyes fixed on them sharply. He had a striking countenance. There was something almost roguish about him. An air of authority and command seemed to rest heavily on his shoulders. He reminded Jasmine of an old fashioned headmaster.

  The deeply wrinkled face creased with a warm smile. His eyes twinkled, framed by thick, white eyebrows. A long, white moustache lay on his upper lip which was cleanly trimmed. Jasmine noted the deep scar, which slashed jaggedly down his left cheek. He was wearing a fawn green suit, with a black bow-tie.

  “Who is that with you boy?” The old man asked, a hint of excitement in his voice as he discarded the book on the floor.

  Twitch edged a little closer. “Jazzy…Jasmine Hunter….she’s my… friend.” He sounded strangely meek. Raising a hand, he slid the weird goggles he was wearing off his head and pushed them down into his backpack.

  Stretching out a gnarled hand, the old man beckoned them nearer. “Come here children. Let me take a look at you both.”

  This was when Jasmine noticed the Jinn. It stood deathly still beside the fireplace. Very tall, its posture was tight, rigid, like a solider standing at attention. The black mask that covered its face was grotesque. Boar like tusks jutted from around the mouth slit. The actual design of the mask looked beastly, between a wolf and a bear. Golden eyes glittered from the eye holes. They were watching her with a frightening amount of intensity.

  It was all in black leather. The outfit seemed to cling lovingly to its form, almost like a second skin. It displayed a hard packed muscled body beneath and gloves covered its hands. Even the head seemed to be covered and she couldn’t see if it had hair. The only thing that could be seen was its mouth. It was almost cruel yet still appealingly sensual. Unease crept through Jasmine.

  Magic, like she had never felt before, encircled it. She could feel it like wisps of dark smoke curling around her. Jasmine could taste it on the tip of her tingling tongue. Ancient, powerful. The unblinking, golden eyes were fixed solely on her face. Jasmine found it strangely unsettling. Yet oddly, it felt exciting too, though she could not explain why.

  “Pay no mind to Kaysin. He does not speak, he is just a bodyguard.” The old man assured her with a dismissive glance in its direction.

  Twitch frowned. “Why do you need a bodyguard, Grandfather?”

  “Do not fuss, Morgan, you sound like your mother,” the old man snapped in irritation.

  The mage flinched. A subtle reaction, but Jasmine noted it. Lacing her hand determinedly through his, she squeezed his cold fingers. She wanted to reassure him. To remind him he was not alone. He squeezed back, almost bruising her. The tension in his tall, slender frame ebbed.

  Still hand in hand, Twitch brought them closer with a few, quick paces. Jasmine’s gaze kept getting drawn back to the Jinn, yet she couldn’t say why. There was something about it. It made her restless.

  “You need a haircut. That hair of yours is wild as ever.” The old man informed his grandson, gentling his tone. With a forefinger and thumb, he stroked his moustache. “Have you finally gotten your magic under control?”

  “Yes, Grandfather,” Twitch replied quietly. The long fingers of his free hand were tapping nervously against his black clad thigh.

  The old man grunted with approval. Leather creaked as he settled himself back further in his padded chair. Shrewd eyes swiftly turned Jasmine’s way. She tried not to squirm under the scrutiny, but it was nerve-wracking.

  “So pale, are you unwell?” The old man enquired with a hint of concern.

  “I-I got seasick coming over.” Nervously, Jasmine shifted from foot to foot. The squelch of her sea soaked trainers was embarrassingly loud. Glancing down, she realised she had created a damp spot on the expensive patterned carpet. Fuck. Biting her lip, her gaze warily flicked back up to their host.

  The old man’s lips curled slightly with amusement. A hint of laughter lit his eyes.

  “Jasmine, a very beautiful flower, do you care for my Grandson?” His voice was soft.

  Jasmine blinked, caught off guard at the question. “Yes. I do.” Twitch’s fingers squeezed her hand gently in response.

  “You are welcome here then, Jasmine Hunter.” The old man smiled, sounding genuinely pleased. “You may call me Carbrey.”

  Carbrey pushed up slowly from his chair using a walking cane. Made of smooth dark wood, the handle was solid silver and Jasmine could see it was shaped like a hound’s head. The crick and crack of old bones shifting filled the quiet room. Twitch’s hand slipped from Jasmine’s. He stood poised as if ready to assist his Grandfather.

  “Come boy and give your Grandfather a hug.” The old man spread his arms wide, his cane held up in one hand. “I’ve missed you.”

  Without hesitation, Twitch stepped into the embrace. “I’ve missed you too. Did you get my postcards?”

  It was a hug full of fierce affection and meaning. The mage loved his Grandfather even if he found him intimidating.

  Carbrey pulled back, his gaze searching the younger man’s features. He was inspecting the faded burn marks on his skin. “Yes, and I thank you for them. It was good to see you were safe.”

  Jasmine was so used to seeing them she sometimes forgot they were even there. The mage though was still self-conscious. Twitch tipped his head forwards. A tumble of disordered, long, curly hair shielded his face from view.

  “I see the place hasn’t changed much.”

  The old man chuckled at Twitch’s words. “It never does. Come sit by the fire.” With a gnarled hand he gestured towards two matching high back chairs which were positioned opposite his own. Twitch sank into the one closest to the fire. Carefully, and mindful of the pristine condition of the room, he gently leant his backpack against the chair leg.

  Jasmine was happy with his decision. This meant she could sit further away from the Jinn. The creature had not taken its eyes off her once. It was openly staring. The drift of its magic still caressed her senses like smoke from a candle. This made her wonder if it thought she was a threat. Or maybe it was curious?

  Distractedly, she perched her ass on the edge of her seat. Twitch made no move to remove his long velvety coat. Pulling down the zipper of her yellow rain jacket, Jasmine decided to keep hers on too as the warmth of the fire chased away the lingering chill from her skin.

  Gaze wandering, she started to go over every object in the room. This was out of habit. Her mind always honed in on objects which would make good, potential handy weapons. This had become an almost subconscious task now whenever she was somewhere new. Too many hours watching the A-team and MacGyver as a child had formed it. Still it came in handy.

  A moment later Carbrey took his own chair. The old man grunted, a pained look crossing
his face as he shifted uneasily.

  “Are you all right, Grandfather?” Twitch asked, concern sweeping across his youthful expression.

  “I have all but forgotten what it feels like to move freely without pain,” Carbrey complained gruffly. “My aches are a constant companion and a reminder that life has done giving and now in the progress of taking.”

  He gestured with his hand to the Jinn. A second later the creature was treading silently across the floor to one of the tables. The one which held the decanter. Jasmine watched as it continued its task. With smooth confident movements, it turned over three glasses. It poured a largish neat measure of the alcohol into two glasses. The third was much smaller.

  Gracefully striding back, the Jinn presented Carbrey and Twitch with the large measures. Then a moment later returned with the smaller glass for her. Leaning down, it towered disturbingly over her. Jasmine took the drink with a nervous smile. The supple leather of a black gloved hand brushed for an instant against her fingers, making her gasp.

  Lust kicked low in her belly. Grabbing the heavy glass with both hands, she narrowly avoided dropping it. The Jinn shifted away. Once again it took up its place as a silent sentinel by the fire place. Trying not to panic, Jasmine held the drink close. Her mind surged in confusion.

  What the fuckity-fuck had that just been? Seriously? Had she just really been aroused by a masked sexless creature from another dimension? Maybe it was all the leather? A fetish she didn’t know she had?

  Raising her glass, distractedly Jasmine took a large sip. The raw, undiluted spirit burned down her throat. Coughing wildly, she just avoided choking on the intense fiery liquid. A hand slapped her back hard. Through watering eyes, she met Twitch’s worried expression.

  “You’re supposed to sip it not chug it,” he told her with an exasperated shake of his head.

  “Thanks.” She muttered back hoarsely. “Fine now. You can stop.” Stomach warming, her head became noticeably lighter.