Evil Spark

by Al K. Line

  "Hey, it's not like we are buddies or anything. Is it?"

  Was he fishing? He was. "Stranger things have happened. Anyway, just checking in. Look, if anything happens... Never mind, see you soon. Bye."

  I hung up. Was I losing my nerve? If anything happens? Nothing was going to happen. I'm Black Spark, Dark Magic Enforcer. I make the things happen.

  Back in the high street, I continued my wandering. I always find it amusing, walking through busy places, night or day. Seeing the world through Hidden rather than Regular eyes. If you only knew how much you are missing.

  I lost count of the number of Hidden I nodded to or mumbled a greeting at. We don't say much out in places like this, as so many of us look so different to each other. I nodded at obese trolls in tracksuits, their magic making them look like that, as being eight foot and made of rock is not conducive to a few pints.

  The occasional gremlin grunted and I replied in kind, disguised as usual as pigeons or dogs. There were Hidden humans too, wizards and shape shifters, witches and warlocks, all going about their business. Most of which you really don't want to know about. All of them entirely forgettable to Regulars, never recalled. Ghosts, more than anything tangible.

  Then I was back at the SUV, somehow reassured that life continued. That my people, my kind, were still out and about, living life and getting on with it.

  I intended to do the same.

  I just had a vampire to visit and a mage to save first.

  No biggie. I do stuff like this all the time.

  Okay, not all the time. But I am well over a century old, so I've seen a thing or two.

  A Nighttime Visit

  Visiting Taavi on home turf was getting to be a habit, although I never get used to it. Whenever you go meet him, it's like walking into a cave full of dwarves and telling them gold is stupid and beards are for losers.

  At the gate, I was stared at blankly—no change there—but something was going on. The goon on patrol checked with the house, then said I wasn't expected and Taavi was not available. Out, apparently. I was to go away before the dogs were let loose for some sport. I was ready to give a wisecrack about me being in a car, but thought better of it—there were a lot of human vampires along with the dogs, and a car won't save you from that if they mean business.

  Fuming, and annoyed at having my time wasted, not to mention getting no closer to finding Rikka, I reversed out into the quiet lane and headed home. Going to Kate's was tempting, but something didn't sit right. I wanted life to be just a little more back to normal before I called on her with what I had firmly in mind.

  So I drove home, almost salivating at the thought of more sleep. I still hadn't recovered fully from the incidents of the week before, let alone everything that had happened since Kate had first come to tell me Grandma was missing. It was taking its toll. Who knew how long I needed to recover—hopefully a long time, and with Kate by my side.

  Grandma would have her witches watching her for a few nights until this was over—hopefully it wouldn't be that long—so I knew she was fine. Kate was at hers. And Dancer, well, Dancer could take care of himself. So I would get a good night's sleep, and in the morning, while the vampires slept, I would figure out what the hell they were up to.

  Everything was out of whack. If Taavi called for you he would be there. I had never known him to miss an appointment, mainly because he never summons you unless it's important. He was an old man who insisted on punctuality. Precise time-keeping is relatively new to him and he is a stickler for arrangements being kept to the minute.

  Sure, he could be out with that creepy Yrjo, or on any number of vampire business related issues, or maybe to feed, but why not leave a message? Unless he hadn't made the appointment.

  He was probably just caught up in something nasty and forgot. Hey, we all have to let our millennia-old hair down now and then. Dismissing it as typical vampire nonsense, I put it out of my mind, and was looking forward to sitting on the sofa with my feet up and flicking through the channels.

  More than looking forward to, it would be like heaven. Normal.

  I don't get to do that much, be normal, so even pretending for a few hours sounded like bliss right about then.

  As soon as I opened the front door I knew something was off. The aroma of rose and citrus greeted me as always, but it was tainted. I sniffed. Vampires. And in my home. Their uninvited intrusions into the homes of me and my family were becoming a habit, and it is entirely against the rules. It's like taking a bulldozer to someone's living room. You don't do it unless you want a fight.

  Knowing my TV watching was on hold, I closed the door, took off my shoes as my feet were aching something terrible, and only deigned to look Yrjo in the eye once I was good and ready. Which meant a few deep breaths and resisting the urge to explode into a vision of demonic dark magic right there and then.

  I squared my shoes on the little rack by the front door, smoothed down my cropped hair, tried to think about nice things, like Kate and Grandma home and safe, then looked up and across the room where vampires had invaded my personal space.

  He smiled at me, about as endearingly as a goblin smiles at someone who underpays them for a job. The air felt strange, even accounting for the vampires in my open-plan ground floor.

  I say strange—it was freaky as hell and I almost panicked and ran. But that would not be cool. It isn't exactly the hardcore enforcer image I have taken pains to exude over the years.

  You know that feeling you get when you enter a room and just know there is an atmosphere? When you walk in and everyone kind of goes silent, not because of you, but because you have interrupted something and they are uncomfortable and the air fills with this weird vibe, telling you to get out as it will be a horrible evening and you would have more fun if you covered yourself in Marmite and let the imps have at it? It was like that, but with vampires.

  So, as you can imagine, the atmosphere was so sharp I expected to be cut to ribbons if I moved too fast.

  Inside the room were Yrjo VanOvermeire, a group of at least five well-appointed and much younger vampires, plus Govan, who looked, to be fair, utterly petrified and so far out of his depth I was amazed he hadn't drowned on the vampire vibes that emanated from the others.

  The first thing that struck me was that magic was strong in the room. Not blood magic, learned magic.

  Uh-oh.

  "Where's Taavi?"

  "Taavi?" said Yrjo VanOvermeire, voice sly and condescending. Kind of like how I talk to Dancer when he's being a dick. So, most of the time.

  "Yeah, Oliver said..." Oliver, that goddamn square-shouldered freak. I'd been duped. Taavi hadn't asked to see me at all. It was Yrjo, and Oliver was doing business with him for some reason.

  It clicked. I may be a little slow, but I'm not glacial. This was a coup. All of a sudden Taavi didn't seem quite so bad a vampire leader.

  "Taavi is an old fool with no head for the modern world," spat Yrjo. I really didn't like the way he was sat on my dining chair, like he owned the place. Plus, his goons were seriously winding me up. They all looked as smug as Oliver, and the world isn't big enough for more smugness than Oliver exudes.

  "That's rich coming from someone who dresses like they're in a bad vampire movie."

  "Haha, they told me you were slightly witty." Damn cheek, I'm hilarious. "My garb, should I say, my costume, is entirely for Taavi's benefit. You will more likely find me in jeans and a t-shirt once this is over, Spark. This is so he thinks of me as an old man, not up on the current world. I can assure you, I am, and things are about to change around here. Drastically."

  "Is that right?"

  "Yes."

  "You're in my home, uninvited. You've messed up my feng shui, and my air freshener isn't powerful enough to cover your stink."

  The goons stirred from their relaxed poses against the furniture, all a show. They flexed their muscles, then snapped to attention, teeth bared, snarling like it would scare me. "Oh, please, do me a favor. You've said your p
iece, Yrjo, now why don't you go crawl back under whatever rock you squeezed out from. Before you go, you can tell me where Rikka is, and if he's still alive."

  Yrjo turned to his henchmen and said, "Well, should we tell him?" They shook their heads, silent, probably because they were too stupid to talk.

  "They say not to tell you. This isn't one of those situations where everything is explained before you miraculously then escape, Black Spark. This is a situation where you die, and you die not knowing what has happened, or why."

  "The why is obvious. You want to take over the UK and you want Taavi gone. And Rikka too."

  Yrjo shook his head. "Silly little boy. You have no clue what is happening, do you? This is just the beginning. Maybe I will let you understand. Here is your answer now." Yrjo looked past me as Oliver walked into my personal space, looking like he'd sucked all the smugness up in the world and was letting it all out in one go. He walked over to Yrjo and stood beside him.

  "You are such a dick, Oliver. This isn't picking sides for sports where you're now on the best team. You're the kid nobody wants."

  "Shut up, Spark. I'm with them now. I'm going places. No more being kept down by Taavi. Things are about to get interesting. Taavi is a fool, messing with things when he should be leading. Your world is about to get a wakeup call. But you won't live to see it."

  "You are correct, Oliver," said Yrjo, pushing up on his chair then standing and putting a hand to Oliver's shoulder. "But neither will you. Spark, you are entirely too good at your job. I've heard all about you, Faz Pound, and it's time to say goodnight."

  "What! I'm with you now, Yrjo, we are doing this together." Oliver looked around, panicked. I would have felt sorry for him, but I understood something at that moment.

  "You took Rikka, didn't you, Oliver? Trying to impress your new boss, were you? How's that working out for you? And the kid, not cool. You're a lackey, cleaning up his mess. He can't even check his meals are dead afterward. Talk about an amateur."

  Oliver turned, wide-eyed, to Yrjo, who smiled, waiting for him to answer my question. "Well, tell him. Did you, or did you not, disrupt everything, mess up my plans, by taking the Head of the Dark Council?"

  "For you," pleaded Oliver. "Clean slate. We can rule. You asked me to."

  "Rule the humans?" Yrjo spat the words like they tasted bitter. "Why would I want to rule the humans? Hidden humans rule themselves, there is order that way. He was to be taken, dealt with, and they would put someone in his place that would keep control but I would have the power. We would become something great. You failed me. Nobody fails Yrjo VanOvermeire and lives. My men acted admirably taking the fat fool, but you, Oliver, you have failed."

  Yrjo nodded to his goons. All hell broke loose.

  Trouble at Home

  I wasn't sure what to do, so ran.

  Maybe I got two feet, maybe three, before a wall of tall and well-muscled vampires put a halt to that idea. So I did the next best thing. I snapped to black as fast as they had moved and felt so ill I spewed up right over their shiny expensive suits. It didn't improve their mood. Plus I was annoyed at messing up my floor.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  "Open up, Spark, I know you're in there. It's Drugi Doles and I've come to give you wot for."

  This was all I needed, an angry goblin to add to my troubles. Or maybe...

  Almost crippled with dark magic, I went deeper, so deep that the hurt faded as I was no longer myself. There would be one hell of a comedown but I didn't care. I had to survive and that meant fighting off some seriously strong vampires.

  I actually chanted under my breath, yeah, me, Mr. Don't Need to Chant. I muttered my intentions over and over, repetitive and fast, melodic and mesmerizing. The air hummed and vibrated until the windows shook, then the floor. My ink flashed black and silver sparks as it popped and crackled, standing proud on my arms, swirling around my body, enriching my points of energy and building and building.

  The vampires turned as the door crashed in and Drugi Doles stormed in. A half green, half black monster with slender limbs and misshapen muscles, skin peeling from where I'd blasted him, but up and strong, which surprised me. He should have been recovering for more than a few hours.

  Through my magic haze, I thought I saw him smile at me, but wasn't sure. And why would he? He was here to beat me to a pulp, right?

  The vampire goons ignored what to them was little but a green annoyance, and their attention focused back on me. Yrjo wasn't so sure. He studied Drugi Doles intently. Govan just shivered and tried to hide—poor kid, bet he never thought this would be how it is to be a vampire.

  "You'll pay for this," screamed Oliver from behind me, and I turned like a fool to see what was happening.

  As I moved, I felt the air whoosh as the vampires closed in on me. Ignoring the angry goblin for now, I let my dark magic out in a punch of energy that pushed me across the floor and I came to a stop elegantly against the wall at the back of the house behind the amassed vampires and the angry goblin.

  The vampires moved forward, baring their teeth and smiling. I noticed that none of the goons had tongues. I've heard of it, how some of the older vamps have initiation rites if you want to serve them, be a part of their power. I guess this was one of them. Idiots.

  They kept walking toward me. Drugi Doles was behind them, oversized mouth grinning widely like it was better than he could have expected and couldn't wait to join in. Oliver screamed at the table as Yrjo put a hand to each shoulder and two goons grabbed his arms.

  "Where's Rikka?" Yrjo asked. He didn't sound like he really cared, but thought it worth a shot. He was playing. If Rikka had got away from Oliver, and probably Yrjo's own goons, then no way would Oliver know where he was.

  "I. Don't. Know. Got away," Oliver managed to say before he screamed.

  Yrjo nodded and his goons set their shoulders, planted their feet wide and the two largest freaks nodded at each other.

  "Wait!" I screamed. I had unfinished business with Oliver. A week ago when we'd had let's call it a little disagreement, he'd said something about my parents. I needed to know if he had anything to do with their deaths. If Yrjo killed him I would never get to ask.

  Yrjo nodded at the goons again.

  They pulled. I heard the crack, then the soft ripping sound of flesh being pulled apart. Oliver screamed like I've never heard another living creature scream in my life and never want to again. Govan collapsed, the shock of what he witnessed too much for his mind to cope with.

  Yrjo smiled. The vampires advanced. Two arms thudded to the floor. I threw up on my table.

  At that point I decided to change careers. Puppy stroker sounded nice, maybe even pet sitting kittens. Heck, sticking legs in a crocodile's mouth and saying, "Go on, you know you want to," sounded preferable to my current situation.

  Had Oliver merely known my parents? Many people had. But their killers were never brought to justice, and he'd said I was just like them, always had to have the last word. Were they empty words he spoke when we fought, or had he let slip something that could help me find out the truth? I got the feeling that with no arms he probably wasn't in the mood for such questions.

  Drugi Doles smiled at me, the vampires snarled at me, Oliver screamed as he stared with incomprehension at the arms on the floor, and I, well, I kind of actually exploded all over the house. Yes, I'm moving.

  I turned evil.

  Wizard Shifter

  "This can get worse, Oliver. Where is Rikka? What happened?" Yrjo was pissed. Why they had to do this in my house was beyond me. I guess Yrjo wanted to freak me out before he dealt with me, or maybe he just wanted to stay inside for such clearly bloody endeavors as nobody wants to let Regulars see what we do. If you can't get the boss, then get his most trusted and efficient enforcer. At least then when Rikka turned up Yrjo would be in a better position to deal with the inevitable fallout.

  He had lost it as far as I was concerned. Interfering with another House was not how we did things. You could do
what you wanted to your own, but you did not interfere with, and certainly not kidnap and kill, the Head of two Councils, especially the Hidden Council. Yrjo had some seriously big, but very old, balls.

  Maybe that was it? He was panicking. After all, what self-respecting vampire feeds and leaves a kid like Govan alive and turned? That was a sure sign of his attitude—wild with no thought for the consequences. I wondered what the state of things were in Finland if people like him were running the show.

  Oliver was shaking uncontrollably. He may be a vampire but having no arms can effect even the most hardened of Hidden. Blood pumped out but the flow slowed to a gentle weeping as I watched Oliver fade. There was no coming back from this.

  He managed a final shake of his head and whispered, "Gone," before he slumped to the floor, landing on top of one of his own arms.

  He was dead.

  Yrjo turned to me. "I had hoped to deal with all the mess this evening. Oliver has been a bad boy. He was supposed to have ensured Rikka was dead. Having him alive will be bad for business. Oliver always was a fool, a needy child. No matter, things will work out in the end, I am sure. Now, as for you, Black Spark, it's time to say farewell."

  "Oh yeah, and what about Taavi? Think he's going to let you get away with this? Think Rikka will when he turns up?"

  "Haha. I don't doubt Taavi will be a little upset, Spark, but these things happen. What's he going to do? Right now he's probably feeling rather disappointed, and returning home after going on somewhat of a wild goose chase. I sent him a message telling of a real delight, a group of girls out camping in the woods. He'll be hungry. There are no girls, so he will be home now. Weak, angry, and I'll deal with him soon enough."

  I would have asked how Yrjo thought he could suddenly turn Taavi's entire Ward against him, but knew better. Vampires are not loyal to anyone but the strongest—if you show yourself to deserve a position then you get the loyalty, no questions asked.

  Yrjo apparently just wanted to tie up the loose ends first. Deal with Oliver, find Rikka, eliminate me in case I got in the way, then go in for the big final coup without anything else standing in his way. Nothing that could surprise him and interfere with eliminating Taavi.