Mages in Manhattan

by Phil Gabriel

  I stood behind her and set my hands on her shoulders, standing an arm’s length away to examine her.

  I got to see the extent of her injuries. Bruises covered her back from below her butt to her upper back, many of them fading with age. On top of the bruises were marks made by a whip or stick, some old and healed, but others still weeping blood. No wonder she wore red.

  The oldest scar was in the shape of a bite mark on her upper right shoulder. “Did the pack try to turn you?” I asked.

  “No,” she whispered, “I’ve had the vaccine. That’s to mark me as a pack member.”

  “Do you want me to remove the scars?” I asked, then was hit by a sudden thought. “Is this a BDSM thing?” Hell, for all I knew, she was proud of the scars and bruises.

  “No, I’m not into pain,” she answered. “Please remove the scars. All of them.”

  “OK,” I said. “Lie face down on the bed.”

  Favoring her right arm, she crawled onto the bed and rested facedown, turning her head away from me. I disrobed and knelt beside her. Feeling my hands touch her, she turned her head and exclaimed, “You’re naked!”

  “Sorry,” I said, “I thought you were here to seduce me.”

  “OK,” she said, “But heal me first.”

  Stroking her back with both hands, I first drained one year of life force from her. Then I directed healing energy to her numerous injuries. With each stroke, the bruises faded, washed away by magic. Next, I concentrated on the scars. The whip marks quickly healed, but the bite took a lot more effort. Finally, I got the tissues to rebuild themselves into the remembered patterns of youth and health.

  “Does that feel better?” I asked.

  “Much better,” she said, “but my shoulder still hurts.”

  “You have to turn over for that,” I replied.

  She turned over slowly, as if expecting more pain. I saw her face grimace as her back touched the sheets, then the grimace faded into a smile. “I haven’t been able to lie on my back in so long,” she said as she squirmed around in near-ecstasy.

  “When I’m done,” I said, “you’ll be able to sleep in any position you like.”

  Using both hands, I probed the collarbone break, setting up a differential electrical potential on either side of the break, encouraging the bone to knit back together. I tightened up partially torn tendons and muscles in her shoulder and smoothed out her rotator cuff.

  “OK,” I said, “try moving your arms.”

  Obediently, she raised her arms, wincing as they rose above her head. The wince turned into a grin as she realized the pain and limited motion was gone.

  “Oh, my god!” she said. “I haven’t felt this good since I was a teenager.”

  “Are you happy with the bargain?” I asked.

  “Very, very happy!” she said, sliding her hands up my arms to my shoulders and pulling me down to her. “Now it’s my turn to make you happy.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “The endorphin release from the cessation of pain could make you giddy.”

  Face-to-face, she bucked her back and wrapped her legs around me, trapping me in her sweet embrace. “I’ve never been more certain,” she said.

  Accepting her advance, I leaned down and gazed into her eyes. Her breath was sweet, all traces of the wine and brandy burned off in the healing process.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to look a lover in the eye,” she whispered.

  “Embarrassment?” I asked.

  “No,” she replied. “The pack insists on screwing ‘doggy style.’”

  Afterward, she kissed me tenderly. For a moment, I saw regret in her eyes. Then she smiled and stood. She stepped over to the mirror. Examining herself, she ran her hands over her firm body, stopping on her breasts. She turned to me and asked, “Did you do something to my breasts? They feel larger, firmer, more sensitive.”

  “Just a side effect of the general healing process,” I replied. I got up to get a Coke, putting on my pajama bottoms before returning to sit on the bed.

  She twisted her head around to examine her now immaculate back. “And my skin. It’s so smooth!”

  “Soft like a baby’s skin,” I said.

  “All traces of the pack, of Frost, gone,” she said. Did I hear a wistful note?

  She reached into the basket and pulled out a tube of massage oil. Stepping over to the bed, she pushed me over onto my front. “Now it’s my turn to massage you,” she said as she poured a generous dollop of the scented oil on my back. I turned my head and smiled at her as she worked on the tight muscles in my back.

  “My, oh my, magician,” she said. “What big teeth you have.”

  “The better to eat you with,” I responded.

  “How white they are,” she said. “Are they real?”

  “I paid a king’s ransom for my perfect teeth,” I said.

  “My, oh my, magician,” she purred. “What big eyes you have.”

  “The better to see you with, my dear,” I replied, head buried in the pillow as she massaged tense muscles in my neck.

  “Too bad,” she said as I felt the chill of metal wrap around my wrists and heard a click, “you didn’t see that coming.”

  Handcuffs? She must be joking. I had learned how to remove those years ago. I sent a surge of magical energy down my arms to shatter the steel cuffs.

  “Oh shit!” I screamed as the cuffs heated up to a red-hot temperature and severely burned my wrists. Another blast like that would fry my hands off.

  “Please don’t do that,” she said. “The cuffs the witches gave me keep you from using magic.”

  I fainted from the pain as she walked away.

  “How did you bypass the Oath?” I asked as she rolled me off the bed onto the floor.

  She looked down at her feet in embarrassment. “I have been cast out of the pack,” she whispered.

  I remembered Frost’s Oath: “Neither I nor any member of my pack...” That sneaky son of a bitch. “Tricks like that won’t work,” I said. “You can’t just say, ‘Today I’m out,’ break an Oath, and then go back.”

  “No,” she said, “the banishment was permanent. They gave me twenty-four hours to leave New York.” She paced back to the chair and sat, giving me a view of her long legs. A view I would have enjoyed more if I had not been restrained by magic shackles on the floor. “Twenty-four hours to leave the only home and family I have ever known,” she finished bitterly.

  “That’s why you didn’t mind losing Frost’s mark,” I said in realization.

  I sat up on the floor, taking the pressure off of my burned wrists. Without magic or my weapons, what did I have to work with? I was stronger and faster than her, but she wasn’t dumb enough to get within range of my legs. Time to use my brain.

  “You know,” I said quietly, “you don’t have to leave New York.”

  “Of course, I don’t,” she said with a sigh of resignation. “I could stay and get torn to pieces tomorrow.”

  “There’s another way,” I said.

  She shook her head several times, like a child talking to herself. “No, no, no. There’s no way,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said in my most confident tone. “Way. Join my pack and the Oath will protect you. I will protect you.” Coming from a barefoot guy in pajama bottoms with his hands cuffed behind him, this surely sounded funny.

  She considered for a minute, biting her lip in thought, then asked, “You have to tell the truth? Right? So, I have a question for you.”

  “What?” I said.

  “Would you trust me?” she asked. “Trust me as much as you trust your kitsune girlfriend?”

  Trust a mundane whose family was hostage to the Wolves of Wall Street? Forced to tell the truth, I said, “I can’t extend my trust to you, yet.”

  “I thought so,” she said decisively as she walked back to the basket on the table. Reaching in, she flipped up a false bottom, from which she produced a Taser, aimed, and fired in one motion.

  With even the
lightest touch of magic, I could have diverted the darts, made my skin impenetrable, or absorbed the electricity. Instead, the two barbs embedded themselves in my bare chest and delivered a sub-lethal charge. My full-body spasm threw me across the room, smashing my back against the bedside table. The table was reduced to splinters and I blacked out.

  When I came to, Red was wearing her cloak and pacing back and forth with the phone in her hand. “Yes,” she said into the phone, “he’s ready for transport. The other two are already on their way? OK, see you soon.”

  I tried to rise, but spasms caused me to flop over onto my front, digging the two barbs even deeper into my chest. Red walked over and stood beside my head. I had a close-up view of her pedicure.

  “Turn me over, please,” I asked.

  “You won’t hurt me, will you?” she asked.

  “Not today.”

  She knelt down and grabbed my arm, dragging me over to a clear section of carpet. She leaned me against the bed, reached out and stroked my cheek, then stepped back. Her eyes brimmed with tears of regret.

  “I’m really sorry,” she said, “but it’s you alone, against a billionaire alpha werewolf and the strongest coven in the world.”

  “Alone?” I repeated, then remembered her comment about the other two. Had they managed to capture Kitty-Sue and Akiko? My mind raced with possible plans, but nothing came up. I was physically bound, ready to be trundled off away from New York, where Frost’s Oath was no longer binding.

  With a clarity I hadn’t felt since the dice game I had with a dragon, I threw out a last attempt. With a chuckle, I said, “I’ve killed alphas and covens before.” I gave her my best grin. “I can do it again.”

  She looked at me again, shaking her head, and said, “No way...”

  “Yes. Way,” I said. “Do you believe in insurance?”

  “I can’t help you,” she whispered. “Frost will kill my family if you escape me.”

  “It’s a small favor,” I said. “He’ll never know.”

  “A favor?”

  “Yes. Nothing that will hurt you,” I said.

  Pursing her lips in a frown, she said, “What kind of favor?”

  “See that bag there? On the table?”

  She walked over and picked up my satchel. The inertia spell wouldn’t activate until it was moved away from my body. She tried to open the bag, but the flap resisted her. Looking over at me, she said, “It’s magic! This will help you escape! You’re trying to get me killed!”

  “Look at me,” I said, staring into her eyes. “The bag won’t help me escape. It might give me a chance against Frost.”

  She took a step in my direction, stopped, and bit her lower lip in indecision. I could hear the elevator stop on our floor, followed by the sound of steps in the hallway.

  “This is your insurance,” I whispered harshly. “If you give me the bag and I survive, I’ll make you part of my pack. I will be your alpha.” I lowered my voice even further, and she drew closer to hear better. “You and your family will be protected.”

  She knelt down in front of me, unaware that the cloak had spread open. I ignored the enticements to continue talking. “Just put the strap over my head,” I implored. “Please.”

  A knock at the door and I knew my time was up. Red took one last look into my eyes, then dropped the strap around my neck. “What if they take it from you?” she asked.

  The strap tightened around me like a friendly boa constrictor and faded away, the dragonskin camouflage making it invisible to human eyes.

  “Oh,” she said as the bag faded, “never mind.”

  She rose quickly, buttoned her cloak, and walked over and opened the door. Two men in coveralls stood in the hallway, a hand truck with a large trunk behind them. I had been expecting pack members, but these were mundane thugs. Of course, pack members were still bound to leave me alone. Red had had to go outside the pack to recruit criminals.

  Red changed personality in front of them. No longer the nervous child, she took charge of the two thugs, directing them to put me in the trunk and deliver it to a private terminal at LaGuardia airport.

  I was dumped into the open trunk as Red walked over to the basket and pulled out a huge wad of cash. I could see the glance the thugs exchanged. They smiled at her and moved one step closer. That’s when she pulled out the Taser and said, “Don’t fuck with me, there’s room enough for you in the crate, too.”

  They held their hands up, protesting innocence. Red tossed the cash to the right-hand thug and stepped back, still covering them with the Taser. “You’ll get the other half at the airport,” she said.

  The last thing I saw as the trunk closed was the Red’s resolute face. I had a moment’s doubt. Which of those was her true face? The crying child or the menacing bitch?

  Twenty-Six

  Challenging the Alpha

  Even bound in the trunk, I could still break out and overpower the two mundanes. Magic is helpful, but even without it, I was strong enough to beat two humans with my hands tied behind my back. However, now that I knew they had also taken Kitty-Sue and Akiko, I needed to get to their out-of-the-city location to find them. The best way was to allow them to take me there.

  Well, now I had them right where I wanted them. In a clearing beside a fallen tree, hands cuffed behind my back, almost naked, and no magic to draw upon.

  I had never really believed that “life flashing before your eyes when you’re about to die” trope. But it happened.

  Frost’s words brought me to the present moment, “Are you ready for the hunt to end, Scott?”

  Stepping forward, getting my balance, I said, “Would you like to see a trick?”

  “What trick?” asked Frost. “You have no magic left.”

  “Not magic,” I said, balancing on my toes. “Contortionist tricks.” One step forward, a bounce, then I launched myself in the air as high as I could. A respectable ten-foot vertical leap. As I went up, I pulled my knees up to my chest as tight as possible, tilted my feet up, and pulled my bound hands under my butt and feet, ending up with my hands in front of me.

  As I landed lightly on my toes, Frost said, “Cute trick, monkey. But you still don’t have any magic.” He prepared to launch himself at me.

  “But wait!” I shouted. “There’s more!” I pushed my tongue against my right incisor three times, pushed my left incisor four times, then finally the right incisor two times. My implanted teeth—worth more than a king’s ransom, crafted of the purest carbon forged into diamond, mounted on a Piezoelectric stratum, and powered by stored bio-electricity—started vibrating at an ultrasonic rate. All without the slightest trace of magic.

  I brought my wrists up to my mouth and bit down on the right manacle first. My teeth started to chew through the steel of the cuff, releasing a cloud of stainless steel dust that filled my mouth. The reflected ultrasonics nearly liquefied my brain, but I kept chewing. After several long seconds, I was able to chew through the right cuff, freeing that hand.

  Spitting out the metal dust, I tried to chomp down on the left cuff, only to find the vibrations slowing, then stopping. Damn, I knew I should have installed bigger batteries. With that single manacle in place, I still couldn’t run magic through my left hand.

  I looked up for Frost, surprised he hadn’t disemboweled me while I was worrying at the cuff. He and the pack were all on the ground, hands over ears, howling silently in pain. Well, not silently. The ultrasonics had knocked out my hearing. All I could hear was a high-pitched whine. The ultrasonics affected their wolf ranged hearing much more than they did me.

  Unfortunately, before I could either press my advantage or flee, Frost jumped to his feet. Damn werewolves healed so fast that the effect of the ultrasonics was temporary. My hearing would take much longer to come back.

  Taking stock, I thought: magical reserves low, not attuned to this location, diamond teeth with dead batteries, burned, exhausted, lost in the woods. Only one thing to do. “Frost, I’m ready to accept your surrender.�
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  His eyes glowed with rage, and he leaped, crossing the distance in less than a second. I dropped to my back and brought my knees up to my chest, feet facing up. Frost’s leap brought him over me, chest exposed. I met his chest with my feet as he fell, pushing my legs down even further. God, he weighs as much as a truck. I pushed my legs against his chest as hard as possible, sending him flying.

  While he was airborne, I scrambled to my feet, adding cramped quads and calves to my litany of pains.

  Frost smashed into the dead tree at high speed, sending a crash through the night forest. In much too short a time, he was back on his feet.

  He stood a moment, breathing heavily, his glowing eyes undimmed. I held up the still manacled hand and said, “So, no surrender?”

  “To the death,” he rasped as if that wasn’t his plan all along. He crouched to make his next leap.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, putting one hand behind my back. I was beaten, burned, exhausted, discharged, and almost defeated. Only my unpowered teeth, weak jaws, and fingernails against one of the world’s most dangerous fighting machines.

  Oh, yeah, and one other thing: a fucking magic sword.

  I sent the tiniest trickle of magic down my unrestrained right arm, sending it running out through my fingers. Such a tiny amount, almost all I had left, but it was enough to open my satchel. Dipping into my invisible bag, I grabbed Princess Blade’s handle. For some strange reason, I had to fumble for her hilt, but I finally pulled her out and held her over my head.

  At Frost’s surprised expression, I knew that Princess had made an impression.

  It wasn’t until he roared with laughter and walked towards me with a confident stride, that I looked up at Princess. In my hand was a fringed lady’s parasol, red with white polka dots. Damn females will be the death of me. She was still holding a grudge over being put aside.

  “Princess,” I whispered, even though all the weres could hear, “don’t do this now. I need your help!”