- From ‘A history of the Dark Nomads’, by Trevelyan
The Visit
Lake Como, Italy
Early September
It looked like it would be a warm day, a day she would have relished normally, a day she would have been out on the lake, enjoying the cool air and the warmth of the sun on her body as the boat skimmed over the waves. One of life’s little pleasures, ripped from her own life by the appearance of the nightmare in human form that lay in the sunken bath just a few feet from her.
It had been weeks now since this Yasmin had crashed into their lives and turned their holiday home into a hell house.
She had no idea what Yasmin might be, but the things she was capable of were just wrong, unnatural and downright terrifying.
The night of her arrival had been seared into Janet’s mind, and, she feared, would never be gone, if she lived through this. They had been having their usual evening meal, all four of them round the table, enjoying the conversation and food when she suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Literally, one moment there were four of them, the next second a black clad woman was stood in the middle of their kitchen.
The few minutes that followed Yasmin’s arrival were both compelling and horrific. She didn’t want to remember the blood and chaos this intruder had unleashed upon them, but she couldn’t help it. The scene played out for her in crisp detail every time she closed her eyes. The screams, the wailing and the way her children begged for their mummy and daddy to help them. It never failed to make her knees feel like buckling sending her sprawling to the floor, waling against the injustice as she did so.
That had been the last time she had seen her children, although she had heard them since. They were in the house somewhere, kept hidden from her by Yasmin and used as leverage to get her to do as Yasmin said.
Her husband, a high flying American business man had fared worse. He had fought Yasmin, he wouldn’t submit willingly like Janet, and he had paid the price.
Yasmin had had her fun with him before finally putting him out of his misery. He lay in Janet’s bed now, slowly decomposing as the days passed by. When Yasmin allowed her to sleep, she had to share the room with his body, the smell had become almost unbearable.
Yasmin lay naked in the bath, her long raven black hair framing her head like a lions main, her eyes closed as the surface of the warm water played about her chin.
Naked as well, Janet stood the way Yasmin demanded of her. Feet together, shoulders back, head down, like a good little servant. As she watched, an expression of boredom played across Yasmin’s face. She moved slightly and suddenly Janet’s stomach felt like it had passed over a hump back bridge. As it did so, Yasmin disappeared from the bath, she flickered from the water to standing by the edge of the tub, dripping water over the tiled floor. It was as if she had stood up and walked out, but someone had removed the middle section. Janet had concluded it must some kind of Magic a long time ago. The sinking feeling and the impression that there was something wrong with the world, with reality, always accompanied any Magic Yasmin did, she didn’t know why, it was just another little mystery.
Yasmin walked out of the open wooden doors to the balcony that overlooked the lake below. Boats moved lazily over its glistening surface while the misty peaks of the Bergamo Alps rose up beyond. It was an area of intense natural beauty, an area where the rich and famous kept their villas and holiday homes.
Janet wondered what Yasmin might be thinking as she watched people go about their business in the outside world. She seemed to hold normal people in complete contempt, seeing them as little more than playthings, annoyances that were only occasionally useful. Janet imagined that Yasmin’s thoughts were filled with world domination, but she would never know. This creature, this woman was a mystery.
Janet couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the figure of Yasmin. Lithe and fit, and in great shape with a figure any woman would be proud of. Somehow though, Yasmin’s curves gave the impression of straight lines and angles, there was an edge to her that no amount of beauty could take away. Yasmin’s cheek bones were high and defined, her lips had a pout to them and her low and cruel looking eye brows were perfectly shaped.
There was something else about Yasmin though, something you couldn’t actually see, it was more of an impression you got, something behind the eyes, hidden, but clearly visible. She had an air of experience about her, a cruelty, and a knowing wisdom of someone who had seen things and done things that no one should do or see. It was disturbing to look into Yasmin’s eyes for too long. She had what LA gangsters called a mad dog stare, something you only got though years of violence on the streets. But Yasmin’s stare was one that Janet believed would send any hardened gangster screaming into the night.
Yasmin sat in the wicker chair out on the balcony and crossed her legs, seemingly content for the moment. Across from her, a clock chimed seven in the morning, the sun was still very low, but it had already started to heat up the air, it would be a warm day. After a few moments, Yasmin wiggled her feet and wrinkled her nose.
‘Pleb?’ Yasmin called.
‘Yes mistress?’ Janet answered, in the alert sing song voice that meant Yasmin wouldn’t hurt her.
‘Lick my feet clean, the dirt irritates me.’
Her stomach immediately tied itself into a knot so tight it felt painful, she struggled to keep the pain and revulsion off her face, knowing that if Yasmin saw such an expression she would be punished for it.
She lowered herself to the floor before Yasmin, took one of her feet and dutifully started to lick the dust and dirt covered foot clean.
She hadn’t been working on the foot long when it felt like the world tipped to one side. Like a kind of dizziness as if the worlds gravity suddenly shifted and down was now slightly sideways. It lasted for barely a second, but it was enough to make her put one hand down to steady herself. Several feet away, where there had been no-one only moments before, there now stood an ominous looking woman.
It was Keziah, someone who seemed to serve Yasmin and who had the same freakish powers that Yasmin did. Kez’s appearance always unnerved Janet. Her almost angular face, her over-sized yellow cats eyes, and the two parallel vertical scars that ran from her hair line to her jaw, through her eyes, made it look like her head would split into three. Then there were the volumous rags she wore that covered what seemed to be an oddly shaped inhuman body, the whole way that she moved seemed alien to Janet. The first time she had seen Kez she had thrown up, something which had amused Yasmin no end. Kez glided across the floor towards where Yasmin sat on the balcony, she stopped short of the sunlight that came streaming into the house, keeping to the shade. The whole way that she moved un-nerved Janet, Kez didn’t seem to take steps, it was as though she were hovering on a bed of air, an illusion that was only broken by the insect like ‘tak, tak, tak, tak, tak,’ sound of what must be Kez’ feet on the tiled floor.
On seeing who it was though, Janet turned away and continued her work.
‘My beloved Kez, to what do I owe the visit today?’ asked Yasmin.
‘My Baal have news from the Vatican.’
‘Indeed.’ Her voice sounded even, bored almost. ‘Is it important?’
‘I believe so.’
Yasmin pulled her foot from Janet’s hand, Janet looked up, just in time to see Yasmin’s heel as it slammed into her nose.
She heard a sickening crunch as her nose broke, blood filled her nostrils as pain and dizziness overcame her. She whimpered at the pain while trying to remain silent, not wanting to attract Yasmin’s wrath.
‘You have served me well,’ Yasmin said. Janet looked up and realised Yasmin was addressing her, she stopped making noises and listened, shocked at being addressed in such a direct and conversational manner, something Yasmin had never done before. ‘Don’t be upset, few have the honour of serving as a distraction such as you have. Your husband was useful as well, while he lived. I hope you enjoyed having him in your bed since then. At least you had so
meone to listen to your insipid moaning about your missing children. I can tell you now they have been chained up in the cellar this whole time. They died rather unspectacularly…’
Dead? Her children were dead? This whole time she had believed they were alive, that they might get through this, that they might have a life together once Yasmin grew bored and moved on.
Rage and pure unadulterated hatred flooded through her body. Without really thinking about it, she launched herself at Yasmin, screaming as she did so.
For a brief second there seemed to be a siren going off inside her head with an accompanying intense pressure.
Then there was nothing.
Kez watched the woman’s head exploded in a shower of brain, gore and bits of skull, her body dropping to the floor with a thud and blood oozing out the exposed neck.
‘…Unlike you,’ Yasmin finished, as the surge of energy from her Magical attack died down.
Yasmin’s Magic flared once again and a dark mist swirled briefly about her naked body. As it faded away, it took the gore with it, leaving her dry and looking as if she had been through a makeover. She now stood before Kez in a body hugging shiny black cat suit with stiletto heels that may as well have been a second skin it looked so tight.
‘The Vatican you say?’ Said Yasmin.
‘That is correct Mistress, its Raphaella Tanzi, she has news of importance. She’s in the usual room.’
‘Kez, have someone come here and clean this place up will you?’
Kez concentrated for a second. ‘Done,’ she said.
‘Then I will see you shortly.’
Kez nodded to her master in agreement.
There was a double whip crack then as they both Ported away from the villa.
Raphaella sat with her knees crossed at the small circular table in the corner of the room, her nuns habit spread about her, she had pulled its hem up over her knees to air off her legs. Beneath the conservative outer garment she wore black lacy lingerie, fish net stockings and suspenders were clearly visible over her smooth tanned legs. Her manicured nails tapped out a rhythm on the wooden table as she glanced at the clock, just after seven in the morning, she wouldn’t be long now.
At that moment she felt the rush of Essentia as the air snapped before her, and Yasmin appeared in her black form fitting cat suit, a dark mist like energy surrounding her like a cloak spilled over the carpeted floor.
‘My mistress, it is good to see you again,’ she said as she sank to her knees before Yasmin.
‘And you Raphaella, your service to me has always been exemplary, your work does not go unnoticed.’
‘That is good to hear, and I bring news to you of something which I think you will find interesting.’
Yasmin walked a short distance to stand by the window, she looked out over Rome and the Vatican a few short streets away. ‘Continue.’
‘You asked me to inform you about any information relating to the release of the Scion from its prison in Egypt, I believe I have some information about him for you. I acquired a report from one of my contacts within the Inquisition that they recently sent an Inquisitor from the Vatican to New York to look into a report of an attack there. The report is from a woman who saw, in her words, “a Black Demon”, which she described as at least twice the height of a man and having a huge horn on its head that attacked a Prostitute on the streets of Manhattan. The attacked happened in an alleyway in one of the Red Light districts there.’
Raphaella magically sent over the boring details such as the alleyways location to Yasmin’s mind telepathically. Her Magic reaching out to Yasmin, offering the information.
Yasmin responded in kind, letting Raphaella’s magic temporarily through her Aegis for the barest of moments to allow that exchange of information before Yasmin shut down the link and Raphaella continued talking.
‘The prostitute is described as being in her late teens, slim, athletic and buxom with long red hair. This girl was pulled from the street and attacked. Her Pimp, who ran after her, was killed by the Demon before the girl shot lightning from her hands and destroyed the beast, vaporising it. It’s clear the Inquisitors are taking this seriously if they sent someone from the Vatican rather than a local agent in the states, I believe this agent has been in New York for a short time already now.’
Raphaella had honed her perceptions over the years, she had learnt to catch the smallest reaction and read its meaning. As she had gone through her explanation she had noticed Yasmin's slight reaction to the description of the red haired girl. Yasmin, who hardly ever showed her true emotions, especially not to another Magi, had flicked her eyes from the cityscape outside the window to looking slightly more towards where Raphaella sat. The description had clearly surprised Yasmin and had also taken hold of her complete attention. Inwardly Raphaella smiled, this would only increase Yasmin’s faith in her and her abilities.
On finishing the description, Yasmin glanced directly at Raphaella, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. Raphaella had given Yasmin an important piece of information, and they both knew it.
Yasmin turned to Raphaella and walked over to her. Raphaella stood to meet her mistress, her nuns habit falling to full length as she did. Yasmin placed her hand on Raphaella’s cheek, leant in and kissed her on the lips. ‘Thank you Raphaella, you have done exceptionally well. I will make sure to reward you, but for now I need to follow this up.’
This close to her, the whip crack sound as Yasmin Ported out felt really quite loud, while the slight surge of air that rushed to fill the void Yasmin left made her habit flap about her legs. She smiled to herself at a job well done, she would be rewarded for this.
Raphaella glanced at the clock on the bed side table, her other visitor would be here soon. If Yasmin was going to follow this up now, that meant she had probably Ported to New York. It would be just after two in the morning there. Wondering what her master might be up to in the big apple was fairly pointless, she doubted she would ever find out what she did. Anyway, she had a guest to entertain in here at any moment.
She expertly removed the nuns habit, leaving the headdress where it was and adjusted her bra and knickers in the full length mirror. He would like this outfit.
A discreet knock sounded at the door then, just loud enough to be heard in the room, her visitor had arrived. She approached the door, unlocked and then opened it, before standing back to let her visitor in and allowing him to see her revealing outfit.
‘My word child, you look radiant.’
‘I’m glad you approve Cardinal, but I’m even better to touch.’
Raal Sadis strode into the small dark room on the ninth sublevel of The Pitt Nightclub. Lit by a bank of flat screen monitors that filled one wall, the display on the clock in the midst of them glowed 2:14am. Two men sat in here, one before the screens, using the controls to flick between cameras, the other at a table in the middle of the room, fingers to his forehead in deep concentration.
‘Maddox, what’s going on?’ Raal asked.
Aneurin Maddox turned from the screens to look at Raal, he was thin but wiry with a shock of wild hair on his pale skinned head, quite the opposite of Raal’s muscled bulk. Raal was black, bald, and tattooed all over, with wicked looking tribal shapes that even covered his face.
‘We’ve got a breach, a Magi passed the outer detection field moments ago, the signature Ekua picked up felt huge.’
Raal looked to the Man sat at the table.
‘Is that right Ekua?’
The robed figure sat at the table raised his head from his fingers. Ekua was a deep Caribbean black, and in the half light of the room, his eyes shone with an intensity that was slightly disturbing. He looked at Raal and nodded.
‘Well, can you get a fix, either of you, who is it? Just a passer-by or something more serious?’
‘We’re having trouble tracking them, whoever it is, they know how to stay hidden.’
The air around them all suddenly became tense, and then snapped. It was just a f
eeling, there was no sound, nothing to see, but if you were a Magi, you could feel it, and the feeling was unmistakeable. Raal felt it keenly, as did his two companions.
‘Shit, was that…?’
‘…the outer Aegis, it just went pop. Someone’s in the club.’
Raal looked round at the bank of monitors, each one showing a different view of either the inside or outside of The Pit Club. He could see the queue outside the main entrance on the Manhattan sidewalk, there was no disturbance there, just the usual revelry and the bouncers doing their job. Inside the club the cameras scanned the crowds over its seven main levels that descended from street level, showing a sea of people enjoying themselves, with no obvious disturbance, this Magi was being careful not to make a fuss but didn’t seem to care if Raal and his Coven mates knew they were here. Whoever it was, they were powerful too, it took someone truly skilled to break through an Aegis that quickly.
Next to him he could feel the Essentia flowing about Maddox and Ekua, both of them using their Magic to try and locate the intruder, sending their senses out into the club and hunting for that magical signature.
‘Someone is definitely here, I can feel it. Just one person I think, but they’re concealing themselves from us. Whoever it is, they’re good,’ Ekua said.
Raal had a sinking feeling. One person had managed to get inside the club in seconds, pull down their Aegis like it was nothing, and all the while remaining effectively hidden. No, Raal didn’t like this one little bit.
Magi Saga 1: Epic Calling Page 13