To Kill A Warlock

by H. P. Mallory

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I asked, livid that he'd taken it upon himself to steal my car.

  “Either get in now, or I'm leaving you here.”

  I stormed to the passenger door and threw myself into the moving car as he peeled into the street. “You have some goddamned nerve,” I started.

  Knight shook his head. “I don't have the patience to deal with you now. You just blew any chance we had of nabbing the creature.” He glanced at me, and his eyes were filled with a rage I’d never seen before. It intimidated me a little.

  “As if you have any interest in catching the creature,” I snapped. He faced me and I continued railing at him. “I'm onto your little plan, Knight. I know you're the creature's real master.”

  He hit the brakes so hard, I banged my forehead on the dashboard. Not enjoying the feeling, I pushed myself back into the seat and put on my seat belt.

  “What did you just say?” he said in a low, dismal tone.

  Although it probably was going to be the last mystery I solved, I couldn't help but gloat. I'd figured out his little plan as easy as you please. I was no fool. “I know you're the keeper of the creature. I figured it out tonight.”

  He laughed, and it was a caustic sound. “You are an idiot.”

  “Don't pretend you aren't,” I said, ignoring the “idiot” part. “And that incident with the creature's blood was really great, by the way. So, let's get this over and done with. Stop the car.”

  He laughed again. “You want to fight me? You know where that got you last time.”

  “Well, I doubt you're going to just let me take you into custody, are you?”

  He shook his head. “Nope, I'm not.”

  He took a left at the first street we encountered, and I faced a long alley of nothing but trees on one side and the county dump on the other. Perfect for our needs. He parked the car and opened the door, dropping the keys on the seat.

  “Come on, then,” he said.

  I opened my door and exchanged my ridiculous heels for sneakers with just a thought and some fairy dust. Okay, so a red cat suit and white sneakers didn’t exactly go together but what did I care? I'd probably be too dead to worry about it soon enough.

  Knight had already made his way into a clearing between the trees, and he'd thrown his leather vest to the ground. He stood naked except for a pair of black jeans and a grimace.

  “Come and get me, Dulcie.”

  I couldn’t entirely rely on my physical abilities or I'd be dead, Knight being way stronger than I. And, he couldn't be entirely immune to magic; otherwise, I couldn't have dressed him, right? Hopefully the answer was a resounding yes.

  I braced myself in front of him and shaking my hand until a mound of fairy dust appeared, I imagined a pair of solid, silver handcuffs. When I felt the cold metal in my hand, I knew what I had to do. “It doesn't have to be like this, Knight. You can come willingly.”

  He laughed, and in a split second, was on me, pushing me into the ground. I tried to throw him off with a bolt of energy, but he acted like I'd just blown on him. He pushed on my arms until they were immobilized against the dirt. Then he straddled me, holding my legs to the ground until I was as helpless as a turtle on its back.

  “I'm not the creature's master, Dulcie.”

  I squirmed under him, outraged when I realized he wasn't going anywhere. I was a goner. “It all fits, Knight.”

  “It fits if you're looking for it to fit. Don't throw it on me because you're looking for a scapegoat.”

  “Then what was that part with you rubbing her blood?” I insisted. Remembering the obscenity, I glanced down at his hand which still bore the red stains. “Or was that just some sick, twisted fantasy of yours?”

  He chuckled. “I needed her blood so Sam could do a tracking spell on her. I ‘spose you could say I'd guessed the night might not work out exactly like I'd planned. Guess I'm getting to know you well.”

  Boil his brains for thinking of every possible angle. There was a reason he was such a big wig of the A.N.C. And he hadn't gotten there with his pretty face. Embarrassed though I might have been, I was also relieved to find Knight wasn’t the creature’s master because I had to face it—I sort of…liked him.

  He chuckled, drawing my attention away from my inner monologue. “I believe we've been in exactly this position before. I'll have to ask you again, are you going to behave if I let you up?”

  “And I'll have to again say yes,” I snapped.

  The smile disintegrated from his lips. “I prefer you underneath me anyway.”

  A thrilling tingle crawled up my spine and wedged itself in my stomach. I knew he was going to kiss me, and I wasn’t about to stop him.

  His lips were forceful and demanding, almost lacking in tenderness. I wrapped my arms around his neck and welcomed his tongue, meeting it with my own thrust for thrust. He pounded his pelvis against me and kissed me even harder. The fingers from one hand entangled themselves in my hair while his other hand tiptoed down my neck and chest until it found my breast. He teased the hardened flesh of my already erect nipple through the vinyl of my cat suit as I arched underneath him.

  I palpated my fingers across his chest, reveling in the ridges of valleys and mountains of his abdomen. I paused above the scar that ran the length of his chest.

  He pulled himself from me, and I licked my lips, savoring every last taste of him.

  “I hope you killed whoever did this to you,” I said as I traced the scar.

  He chuckled and pushed his pelvis into me once more, as if trying to draw more attention to the bulge in his pants. He didn't need to. “Yes, Dulce, he's long gone.”

  He hovered above me, just watching me. I didn’t know what to say or do. Anxiety welled within my stomach when it seemed he might kiss me again and I pushed myself out from underneath him, suddenly scared to death that we’d gone as far as we had.

  Knight chuckled. “And where do you think you’re going?”

  I didn’t know. All I did know was that I had to get away from him—I couldn’t handle the anxiety pounding through my veins but I also didn’t want him to know that.

  “We shouldn't be doing this. What would the Relations Office think?” It was the only excuse I could think of.

  “You’re not my employee.”

  Damn. “I, uh, I’m just not…”

  “You really know how to ruin a good moment, don't you?” he interrupted and stood up, starting for the Wrangler.

  “You'll thank me later,” I said, but Knight just shook his head and tossed me the keys.

  SIXTEEN

  Launching myself up my front stairwell, I opened the door to find Bram and Trey sitting side by side on the sofa, watching Nosferatu.

  I couldn’t find the wherewithal to come up with a snide remark.

  “Sweet, you have returned,” Bram said with a leer while his eyes traversed me from head to toe. “And what a sight you are.”

  He stood up and approached me, extending his hand as if he wanted to run it down the red vinyl covering my torso. I dismissed him with a wave. “Not now, Bram, I have work to do.”

  I grabbed the phone, about to dial Sam, then realized I really didn't want Bram hanging around for the rest of the evening. Not when it involved A.N.C. business. Neither, for that matter, would Knight. And he'd be way less polite about it.

  “Bram, thanks for watching Trey, but I can take care of things from here.”

  He bowed, his fangs just cresting his lip as his eyes still danced with unabated lust. “I am happy to assist you, Sweet.” He paused. “Do not forget the favor you owe me.”

  I nodded, knowing I wasn't about to forget it anytime soon. Hot Hades, it wasn't good to owe favors to anyone, let alone Bram. “Yeah, I won't forget.”

  “Well, I see you are busy.” He motioned toward the door. “Shall I show myself out?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” I said as I dialed Sam's number.

  “Bye, Bram, cool movie, man,” Trey said, extending his bent knuck
les like he thought he and Bram were gang brothers.

  I didn't hear or see Bram's response, but I did notice the less-than-pleasant salutation offered by Knight and the equally less-than-polite response offered by Bram. Men...

  “Hello?” Sam said groggily.

  “Sam, I need a big favor.”

  “Dulce, what time is it?”

  I checked my watch. “Two in the morning. Can you come over? I need you to do a locating spell.”

  “Right now?” she squeaked in a hoarse voice.

  “Yeah, Knight has the creature's blood on his hand, but he isn't sure how long it will last.”

  “Oh, wow,” Sam’s voice perked up. “Okay, give me a little time to get my stuff together.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  I hung up and turning toward the living room, discovered Trey gawking with horror at Knight who stood in his black pants, the red blood staining his hand.

  “What the heck happened to you guys?” Trey asked, fear trembling just beneath his bravado.

  I shook my head. “It's a really long story.”

  An hour later, Sam arrived, carrying a brown leather satchel of potion ingredients. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she plodded into the house still wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt. The expression on her face wasn't welcoming, rather, it screamed: I want to get the hell back to sleep.

  “Hi, Sam,” I said apologetically.

  “Hi, Dulce.” Then she glanced at Knight and Trey. “Guys.”

  They both said hello, and I followed Sam to the kitchen table where she unloaded her bag of tricks—a stone bowl, a wooden spoon and two vials of...something.

  “We'll need four people for the spell to work,” Sam said.

  “Then we'll have to use Trey,” I answered, more to Knight than anyone else. He just nodded.

  Sam faced him. “Where is the blood?”

  He held up his hand.

  She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “Might be too old, but we can try.”

  “Should we rinse it into a glass or something?” I asked.

  Sam shook her head. “No, that will dilute the power of the blood, and the chlorine could kill any chance we have of making it work. Nope, the best thing is to see if we can scrape some of it off.” She held his palm and rotated it, as if searching for the largest smear specimen on the top of his hand. “Looks like some is caught under your fingernails; that might be the best sample.” Sam paused, then glanced at me. “Dulce, can you get a knife, and see if you can shave some of the blood off him?”

  I frowned, that sounded painful. Thankfully it wasn't my hand. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Make sure you don't cut him. That'll ruin the spell, and we'll just end up tracking him.”

  I nodded and went for the smallest knife in my selection. When I approached Knight, I held it up with as wicked a smile as I could manage. He just shook his head.

  “Hold his hand over the stone bowl, and try to get as many decent scrapings as you can. First, try under the fingernails.”

  Knight followed me to the kitchen table. He held his hand over the stone bowl, and I took hold of it, trying to ignore the feelings of pleasure that visited me at his warm touch.

  “Proceed with caution,” he said in a deep voice.

  “What can I do?” Trey asked, moving forward. “And who are you trying to track?”

  “Never mind,” I answered.

  Knight shook his head and whispered. “I'll take care of it later. You can tell him.”

  Thinking that sounded pretty ominous, I didn't respond, but Sam did.

  “We're trying to track the creature, Trey. I'll need you in a second, but for now, just sit tight.”

  “Over and out,” Trey said and returned to the couch, dropping himself into it as if all the bones in his body had just collapsed.

  I rotated Knight's hand, trying to figure out the best way to get under his nails without slicing off the tip of his finger. After acquiring an adequate angle, I took the small paring knife and carved out whatever I could from beneath his nails. A few dark bits of blood drifted into the stone bowl. When I couldn’t get any more, I turned his hand over to shave off the remaining blood.

  “Use the back of the knife, not the blade,” he said.

  I glanced at him and grinned. “Why, are you scared?”

  He paused a moment before returning the smile. “Yes.”

  I laughed and flipped the knife, shaving the dried stain with it. More crusty blood flaked into the stone bowl until it looked like a small mound of red dandruff.

  “That's probably enough,” Sam said as she inspected my work.

  Knight pulled his hand from mine and started for the sink, washing his hands twice.

  Sam grabbed the wooden spoon from the table top and a vial of something that looked like pink lemonade. She poured the entire contents of the vial into the blood bowl and began stirring, inspecting it for who knew what.

  The stuff in the bowl didn't do anything—the blood just disappeared into the pink lemonade liquid and that was that.

  “Dulce, there should be a pH test kit in the bag, can you get it for me?”

  I shuffled through her bag until I found the rectangular sheets of paper.

  “Just dip the end of one into the potion,” Sam said.

  I did as I was told, and the paper went from white to a deep purple.

  “Flap it around like you're drying a Polaroid photo.”

  I obeyed and flapped it. It didn't change color.

  “Great, now you just have to drink it,” she said with a smirk.

  “Drink it?” I repeated, my stomach churning at the thought.

  “Sure, how do you think you're going to be able to find the creature without taking some of it into yourself?”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.” I backed away, shaking my head. “I'm not drinking that.”

  Knight faced me. “It's either you or me.”

  That was easy. “You.”

  Sam's smile beamed wider. “Actually, you both have to drink it... if you want it to work right. Besides, don’t both of you want to be able to track the thing?”

  I couldn't argue. Sam opened my cupboard and produced two juice glasses. There wasn't that much potion in the stone bowl, so we'd each just have a gulp, probably. Okay, I could handle that. Disgusting, yes, but doable all the same.

  Sam ladled out two equal portions and placed the glasses before us. Then she turned to Trey, who was still riveted by Nosferatu. “Trey, I need you now.”

  He nodded, his attention still stuck on the screen, even as he made his way toward us. “What do I do?” he asked.

  Sam took his arm and positioned him between Knight and me. She stood next to Knight so we were all surrounding the kitchen table like the wise men bringing gifts to baby Jesus. Only our gifts weren't gold, frankincense and myrrh, but nasty creature juice.

  Just then, the phone rang. “Should I get it?” I asked Sam, not wanting to appear rude.

  “Yeah, go ahead.”

  Wondering who the hell could be calling me at this hour, I lifted the phone. “Hello?”

  “You have some nerve coming here and asking for my help and then nearly blowing the whole goddamned thing!” Dagan roared.

  I gulped down an acid response. “I already got an earful.” I glanced at Knight—I'd gotten a lot more than an earful.

  “You're lucky I don't come down there and show you what I really think of you.”

  “Is that a threat?” I asked, my temper thinning. Threatening a Regulator was not a good idea, even if I had royally screwed up.

  “No, it'll be a promise if you ever embarrass me like that again. Luckily for you, I was able to convince my guest that you were just a silly, jealous idiot and not some incompetent cop.”

  I frowned. “Is that all you have to say?”

  “Don't show your face around here for a while. I won't be held responsible for my actions if you do.”

  Yeah, I'd say that was
a threat. “Speaking of being responsible, Dagan, why the hell did you let her drink your blood? And don't even start by telling me you don't know what a demon's blood will do to whoever drinks it.”

  He chuckled, long and hard. “There aren't any laws against me sharing my blood.”

  No, there weren't. He did it purely to make my job harder. “You asshole,” I seethed. I slammed the phone down before he had the chance and turned to face the others, who regarded me with undisguised curiosity. I shrugged. “Dagan's just pissed off with me, that's all.”

  Sam nodded, like it wasn't news and motioned for me to resume my place with a cock of her head. “Okay, now Knight, er Todd...” she glanced at Knight sheepishly.

  “It's okay,” he said.

  Trey didn't even notice.

  “Okay,” Sam started up again. “You and Dulcie need to drink the potion and then grab the hand of the person next to you as quickly as you can. Trey, you and I need to focus on containing them.”

  “What?” I asked, stiffening. “Containing us?”

  “That's why we need four people. Well, really, we could've used more but four will do. When you take a creature into yourself, you adopt some of its mannerisms, and if it's a violent beast, then the same can be said for you.”

  I dropped her hand. “You mean to tell me that Knight might end up having some of the creature's...tendencies in him?”

  Sam nodded, a nervous smile on her lips.

  I sighed. “So, we might have a six foot four monster on our hands? Built like that?” I said, pointing at his chest. He just grinned. Bastard.

  “Well, you might have a bad reaction, too,” Sam said.

  I shook my head, not concerned about myself—I’d be more like trying to contain an enraged mosquito; it was the potential Frankenstein in the corner that worried me. “Maybe this isn't such a good idea.”

  “It's the only chance we have,” Knight interrupted. “I can control myself, and I can control you.”

  I frowned at that less than humble announcement and took Sam's hand again. “For Sam and Trey's sakes, you’d better be right.”

  Knight disregarded me and faced Sam. “How long will this spell last?”