New Spark (Dark Magic Enforcer Book 3)

by Al K. Line

  "Oh, okay, Frank."

  "Frank? You never told me that was your name." I felt put out. I've always known him as the Chemist.

  "You don't have such nice eyes," said Frank the Chemist, the misshapen ghoul that tells comedy and makes potions. "Here, for you." He handed me a small vial, thankfully stoppered tight and even relatively clean. I took it using my jacket sleeve just in case any residue had side effects as I was still buzzing from the faery dust.

  "What is it?"

  "It's something I've been working on for a long time, Spark. Do not take it unless you absolutely need to. Oh, it has a kick, so be warned." His potions always have a kick, and they usually taste like weeks-worn socks that have been buried with a lump of cheese for a few years then rubbed in the corpse they lay beside.

  "Okay," I said warily. The comedown was starting. Honestly, I could have just sat down and gone to sleep.

  "It will regenerate you if you happen to get into an 'accident' and find bits of you not where they should be."

  "Thanks, and take care, Chemist. Stay safe."

  "You too, Spark, and you, lovely lady, you make sure he doesn't get into any trouble." The Chemist took Kate's hand, and fair play to her she kept a smile on her face as he bent his terribly malformed head and kissed the back of her hand with lips that were half missing, half dripping like molten wax.

  "I will." Kate walked out with grace. I followed behind.

  Without a word, we left the club. Brewster Bunker was still zoned out, the rest were just as silent. Whatever. I had other things on my mind.

  We had a fight to attend. I say we, no way in hell was Kate coming with me.

  Decisions, Decisions

  The atmosphere in the city felt charged when we left the club and returned to the car. It had been a matter of minutes but it felt like a lifetime since we met the faery.

  Was it that we had changed, or that the city itself knew something was going down? I don't know, but we both felt it. Like the streets were charged with magic, as if the city was alive and feeling the energy build, the trouble brewing, the violence poised to escalate like it had never done in all the years I had lived here.

  The buzz of the dust was wearing off. It had served its purpose and the gift had been received—an insight into the strange, timeless world of the trolls. The creatures that when seen looked like rather unkempt, unfit, overweight people in terrible sportswear, but were in fact huge monolithic creatures born of forces impossible to comprehend. Guardians watching and recording how life, and I guess the planet itself, changed and coped with its progress through time and the Universe.

  What really stuck was that even such creatures could be led astray easily enough, just like the rest of us, and if that isn't what it means to be sentient then I don't know what is.

  I learned something that day. That making judgments, and trying to pigeonhole others into your own narrow window of belief and experience, is a very bad idea. I already knew this. Heck, I should after the life I'd led, but it hit home as it never had before.

  Addiction is a terrible thing. I know, I'm a magic addict. The comedown from the faery dust was terrible and sudden, leaving us both mourning for the clarity and peek behind the veil it afforded. The world somehow felt drabber than normal without the insight it gave. So who could blame the trolls?

  They had been given something that allowed them to finally express who they truly were, act out their feelings, speak and be listened to, become useful parts of a society that had always treated them as second-class citizens and yes, even scorned and made fun of them.

  I was as guilty as the rest of my kind. But the pills hadn't just made them smart, there was more to it, and for want of a better word, they had been spiked to make them do the vampire's bidding.

  Some things never change do they? I felt like a fraud, like a bad person, carried along on a wave of prejudice because I was too lazy, too easily influenced by the attitudes of others, to think for myself and even try to understand what was different to me and my own.

  "Okay, one more stop," I said as we arrived at the car.

  "I know what you're doing, Faz, but I want to come." Kate stood, arms crossed, defiant and beautiful.

  "Kate, let me ask you a question."

  "Okay," she said, staring at me hard.

  "If I die tonight, what will you do?"

  "I... I'm not sure. I can't think like that, Faz. I can't lose you."

  "Good. And how do you think I feel?"

  "The same?" she said, somehow looking smaller, like a child.

  "I do. And do you think I stand the best chance of surviving, of dealing with this, doing what I do best, if I know you are in the middle of it, or if you are safe at home with Grandma and probably more witches than her house can safely hold? Where I know you are looking after those poor children, and you are protected, and nobody would dare come after any of you? All of you. The witches that still live, the few children out of whole communities that have been massacred tonight, and the only other woman in the world I love apart from you?"

  Kate held my gaze, then I saw that she understood. She hugged me tight, tickled me in the ribs where she knew it always made me squirm, and whispered, "Be careful."

  "I intend to be very careful indeed. Come on, let's get you to Grandma's. Just think of all the fun you'll have. A house full of old lady witches, young ones too, all screaming and shouting and making cups of tea and having a right old time of it. You're one lucky gal."

  "Don't push it, Faz, or I'll change my mind."

  I couldn't help it, I laughed.

  What else could I do?

  Yeah, I could cry and try to hide somewhere. I was, and I'm not afraid to say it, beyond a little concerned about what the night would bring.

  There really are monsters you know, and once again they were of the human variety. The worst ones always are.

  All or Nothing

  I was right, Grandma's was brimming with witches.

  I didn't stay, couldn't, otherwise I knew I would never leave. But the sight of little kids with terrified eyes peeking around the kitchen door, being hushed and calmed by the older women and a rather overwhelmed Barrack, was all the incentive I needed to be sure that what happened to Plum and her people never happened to them.

  Knowing Kate and Grandma were safe, at least for now, allowed me to focus with a clear head on what was to come. I understood there was still significant risk for them—nothing is certain in this world, and certainly not in ours—but for now, they were as protected as I could manage without being there.

  Plum had to be put out of my mind, the zombie massacre too. If I dwelt on it I would be a standing target. I would grieve later, like I have so many times in my life, like I have resigned myself to doing many more times.

  This magic, this gift and this curse, it opens the future in ways you cannot hope to understand. The perspectives skew, a double-edged sword if ever there was one.

  On the one hand, it allows you to appreciate the beauty of life, but that it is fleeting and over no sooner than begun. But for Hidden, those that may live many thousands of years, it makes everything hurt deeper. To know you could lose somebody that could be a part of your life through the ages, that is truly horrifying, so with the good always comes the bad.

  My thoughts wandered as I drove through the city with death in mind and culpable destruction my intent. I was becoming seriously depressed, unable to shake the feeling of everything being utterly futile. My heart was empty now, just like the city of even late night revelers. Truly a Hidden world.

  Unsure how things were going, knowing I had to let others do what they would, what they could, and not wanting to interfere, I refrained from making any calls. Things have always worked best for me when I go with my gut, and it told me to head to the one place I wanted to go least in this world—vampire central, otherwise known as House Taavi.

  After the fire of the previous year, Taavi had eventually found a suitable place to relocate. It was larger, grander,
had been completely overhauled, had better defenses, and you can bet Taavi had installed a damn good sprinkler system.

  What I absolutely did not expect when I pulled up at the entrance was for there to be nobody else in sight. None of Rikka's people—my people—were there. The roofs and spires of the sprawling collection of buildings could just about be seen above the top of solid and very uninviting gates. Double-skinned, as solid as my conviction, the magic-infused metal—strengthened by a corrupt mage now in hiding—would open only to a select few.

  Massive, gray, imposing, and utterly dominating the surrounding countryside, the estate screamed "Stay the hell away." Set on a rise, it looked down on miles of countryside, a large manor house-cum-castle that personified old money and now housed more vampires than had ever collected under the old roof.

  Taavi had gone bigger and spookier with his choice of residence, gathering vampires from far and wide into a large communal home. He had more than doubled the militia, using more vampire Dobermans than ever before.

  Now he protected the young vampires and ancient ones that had been saved from the fire, but also moved from other locations with less than stellar security to this new stronghold.

  Everyone knew about it. You can't keep movement like that a secret in our world. Everyone also knew that you could never hope to attack and destroy the place now so many strong and always deadly vampires were present and guarding it.

  I felt foolish as I got out my car and looked up and down the access lane that passed in front of the gate to the grounds.

  What was next? No way could they even consider taking all of us out. It wouldn't work—they were grossly outnumbered if you counted all Hidden humans compared to the vampires.

  Then it hit me. That wasn't the point at all. They had decimated the witch population, made them distrust each other, taken out the shifters, shown they could manipulate and control the trolls, and judging by the reaction in the Hidden Club they had everyone running scared.

  No, Taavi would take his time, consolidate what had been done, and piece by piece, little by little, maybe over a few weeks, he would work his way through the city.

  Nobody would be able to stop him, not with the vampires so easily able to dart from one place to the next, offering assistance to their kind as and when needed.

  Freaking me right out, the gate slid back a little into the wall. Floodlights illuminated the building dramatically in that way Taavi felt suitably intimidating and with sufficient vampire drama and sparkle to terrify you before you set foot through the gates.

  I could see militia moving back and forth, fully alert, dogs straining at leashes. There were scores of Jaguars, Bentleys, and Rolls Royces in the drive—Taavi did like the good things in life. People were milling about and there was a lot of shouting. I assumed all to do with the bloody terror they had rained down on the shifter community, wiping out a human threat that stood in their way and hindered the obvious coup now in full effect.

  And then a smiling man, a guard from the old place, appearing to be twenty years old, strode through the narrow gap. He nodded at me as he looked up from a digital display in his hand. The gates continued to open. "Taavi wants a word."

  "Does he now?"

  "Hurry up," he said, bored. He bowed his head, tapped the screen, and the gates began to close again.

  Two choices. Stay where I was, or walk straight into the most well guarded building in the country, full of vampires that would like nothing more than to feast on my blood, rich and strong with magic that would be lapped at eagerly. Another nail in the coffin of our existence.

  I dashed through the gate before it closed.

  Yeah, I know, don't rub it in. It seemed like the right thing to do, and like I said, I was following my gut. But I was also hoping, more than I'd ever hoped before, that things were still on track to get the matter settled once and for all.

  Plus, I was curious. I had to know. So many unanswered questions could be resolved from the other side of the gate.

  It is one of my flaws. I'm a nosy sod.

  Keep Calm

  I followed the blond bombshell up the drive. I was Mr. Cool, making sure my tie was just right, swinging my arms in a nonchalant way, having to force myself to stop whistling as that was a step too far and the obvious sign I was faking it.

  Patrols passed in front and behind, giving me the evil eye I'm sure they must have classes for every day. Dogs sniffed and drooled, vampire venom watering the grass with its poison.

  The whole place was saturated with essence of vampire. You could smell it. Magic caught on the back of my tongue and I swallowed involuntarily, feeling myself go a little colder as I got closer to their world of disdain for humanity, what they saw as feeble and weak, something the older ones often refused to acknowledge was a part of their history.

  The goon disappeared with a fast vibration. In his place, paper-white hair shifting gently as he came to a stop a few feet away from me, was Taavi. Doctor Evil himself. If he'd stuck his pinkie in the corner of his mouth and gone, "Mwaahaha," I'd probably have just nodded and said, "Yup, you got that right. Where's the cat?"

  For nine months, I hadn't seen the "man." I'd avoided all enforcer jobs, kept mostly out of the world, shacked up with Kate as I recovered from the last encounter with vampires. Meaning, I'd forgotten just how damn scary he was.

  More than that. He oozed malevolence and superiority, as if he truly was a superior being. That I was less than nothing, hardly even worth suffering to deign to talk to, and yet, I could see in his eyes there was almost an admiration too. We go back a long way, but that has always entailed him summoning me and me trying not to freak out or go stark raving mad.

  Taavi is very old, and obscenely powerful. If I hadn't maintained my mental block against the force of his will, held the magic tight in my mind that stopped him insinuating himself inside and sending me mad with visions and feelings of utter worthlessness, I would be insane in a moment.

  I had forgotten just how hard it was to keep that distance, keep that mental barrier in place. Rather than weaken in the intervening time, he had grown stronger since our last meeting. He certainly didn't look like he had been killing without cause the entire evening.

  "Ah, Spark, I never did thank you for the part you played in last year's slight annoyance." His voice was slow, the accent still there, something that would sound comical coming from anyone else. But from him it just magnified the vampire vibe, that he wasn't from this world.

  He was ancient, the stuff of myth and legend, the focus of stories still told to young Finnish children to this day. Of when he terrorized their villages and took the daughters of the cowering locals when of the right age. I'd heard the tales, and it was all true, and more. He put Vlad the Impaler to shame as if he were an amateur.

  Maybe this was it. Was he just bored?

  "Oh, my pleasure. You've been busy." I nodded at the militia, the scores of vampires seemingly all busy coming and going from the house. I also pointedly ignored Kaisa Hayashi on his left, his long fingers wrapped right around her upper arm, digging tight into her bare flesh. She was motionless, looking like hell with a heartbeat.

  "No rest for the wicked. Haha."

  "You killed the shifters. Nearly all of them. Witches too, although some seem to have teamed up with you. And some," I nodded at Kaisa Hayashi, "I'm not too sure about."

  "What," Taavi feigned mock shock, "the great enforcer isn't abreast of all current events? Surely not."

  "Why don't you enlighten me, Taavi? Why don't you go fuck yourself at the same time."

  "Do not test me, Spark. Not tonight of all nights. Or I will rip you inside out and let the dogs lick at your innards." Taavi's ancient fangs, deadly and sharper than a faery's wings, dripped as he snarled. His skin wrinkled although nowhere near to the sallow and semi-translucent state it had been in for as long as I had known him. The death, the feeding, maybe even the relishing of glory to come, clearly agreed with him.

  "I'm past caring. What
do you want, Taavi? Why am I here?"

  "You are the one that came to me. To us, my family."

  "You know why. What do you want?"

  "Child, is it not obvious? Oh, to be so young and innocent once more. I want it all, Spark. Our friend last year, the one responsible for burning down my House, he may have been a fool but he opened my eyes to a few things. The Councils are weak, ineffective and no longer have the hold over Hidden they once did. For centuries, millennia, I have towed the line, accepted the Hidden Council even though I have always rejected the Dark Council. Such foolishness. You humans and the need to always have your own thing, believing it makes you equals."

  "Just get on with it. You're rambling, old man. Maybe it's time you let someone put you down like the diseased dog you are." Look, I love dogs, but it was the best I could come up with. I was a little stressed in case you haven't noticed.

  "Do not interrupt me again, or I shall make good on my promise about your innards." He meant it. I kept quiet.

  "That traitor, the man you dealt with, saving me the trouble, he showed me quite how ineffective the Councils are. Bunch of old fools, inept and so behind the times they do nothing. They did not come to our aid, did nothing as my Ward burned and vampires many thousands of years old perished. There was no assistance. Nobody lifted a finger to help us, to allow us to rebuild, to take us in, give us a roof over our heads. No, they let us flail and lose our sense of community."

  He was right, I couldn't argue with that. Nobody had helped, none of the Councils had come to assist, as they should have. The Hidden Council, anyway. Vampires are Hidden, part of our world, with as much right to it as any other species. It's the way of things, and yet the Council had remained entirely quiet during the duration of their plight.

  What could I say? It was enough to turn you bitter, and he was already far from being a jolly old man that gave you sweets and took you to the park to play. I shrugged.

  The way things were going, I'd be dead any moment. May as well play it cool to the end.