Often I tried to keep my life separated from the supernatural world. My only friend in it was Kalen, and he was my boss. Staying on top of the heads of the Shapeshifter Council was more trouble than it was worth. The Mage, Fae, and Witch Councils kept the same head for years. The Shapeshifter Council was often in a state of transition, more than the other organizations, because of dominance fights. They didn’t fight to death anymore; well, not as often as they used to. But they still fought into submission, and generally the one who lost was so badly injured that he was no longer an asset and was often pressured into quitting. It was hard to maintain the respect of their peers once they had lost a fight for dominance. Their dynamics were also different than those of the other sects because they still maintained small packs.
“Was he asked to step down from his position at the Shapeshifter Council?” I asked.
“No, but people were concerned about biases and efficiency if he held both positions.”
“Do you know why he wants this and what he plans to do with it?”
“If he has any sense, he should destroy it. If I were a shifter, there isn’t any way I would let it exist with the potential of the wrong person getting a hold of it. But it’s his now, so he can do whatever he chooses to do with it. It’s on him.”
I really hope he destroys it. I really wished it were going to the Shapeshifter Council instead of the Supernatural Guild, which policed the supernaturals. Unlike the Shifter Council, they had a team of strong mages and witches on the team who, if they ever decided to believe the claims of the Trackers, could use the Necro-spear to find me and other Legacy. I doubt the leader of the Shifter Council had the same reach and access to the level of magic needed to perform such spells.
Preoccupied by my thoughts, I heard the steps—lithe, but urgent—seconds after Kalen did. I handed the Necro-spear to him and slipped my hand in my purse and wrapped it firmly around the base of the twins, letting the purse slip to the ground.
“Put it in the car,” I told Kalen and turned just in time to confront the two approaching vampires. Lips were drawn back and fangs exposed, ready to attack. Vampires couldn’t fly, but with the speed and grace they descended upon us it seemed as though they had soared into position with the help of wings. They were inhumanely fast. I thrust the end of the sai into the nose of one just inches from me. Blood spurted but it didn’t deter him. Vamps were immortal, but a broken nose hurt them just like it hurt anyone else, they just healed faster. He lunged again, and one of the twins pierced him in his stomach, enough to make him retreat back—but he didn’t. His eyes were as empty and black as an abyss. Lifeless, but not in the typical vampy way. The lights were on but he was definitely not there. Yanking himself off of the blade, he scuttled back, and when he took flight again, it was over my head toward Kalen. Grabbing the tail of his shirt, I jerked him back. He wasn’t the pilot of his actions, I couldn’t kill him. I shoved one of the twins into him, securing him against the ground while I took care of his partner, who was twice his width. Thick muscles coiled around his body like armor. He wasn’t going to go down as easy. Times like this I wished I could use my magic, subdue him with a wave of my hand. But I might win the fight and lose in the end.
Despite his size he moved with the same lissome grace that all vampires possessed. When he charged at me, I wished I had a sword rather than a single sai. It was better to fight vamps from a distance, because once they had fangs sunk in, it was nearly impossible to get them off. I waited for him to get close enough. My shorter height gave me an advantage. Five foot six was enough of a height difference to use his body as leverage to climb over him. I was quick enough to dodge him, deliver a powerful side kick into this back, push him off balance, and drive the sai into him. They were both pinned to the ground, the sai embedded in them.
I had retrieved them by the time four uniformed men showed up. If you could call a black t-shirt and dark jeans a uniform. Since they all had them on, I assumed it was. The badges on their hips were enough to cause anyone watching the spectacle to part and let them through. They were Supernatural Guild officers. If you were a misbehaving supernatural, they were the last people you wanted to see. Because the officers were shifters, they were the last people I wanted to see, too. Being around a shifter was never a good idea for me. Moments later the vampires were facedown, cuffed, with two crossbows aimed at them.
I started back toward the car. Supernaturals could sense other supernaturals, but I didn’t have to worry about most of them, my magic was disguised well, my mother made sure of that. But shifters, with their heightened senses, were more sensitive to it. Some said that they could smell it, and I didn’t doubt it. Since the Cleanse, only the strongest of them existed. We weren’t dealing with inferior shifters.
“I need a statement,” said one of the guys. I cursed several times under my breath and got into the car and snatched up the Necro-spear. If they sensed magic they would assume it was coming off of it, or Kalen, so the odds were now in my favor.
“They attacked,” I said when they were a couple of feet away. Caution had become a constant companion of mine.
“Without cause?” the tallest one inquired. His cool, smoke gray eyes narrowed on me.
“No, he had plenty of cause, I think he wanted this,” I said, holding up the spear. The broadest shifter didn’t seem to know what it was, but Mr. Gray Eyes did.
“Is there a reason you want that?”
Well, it’s pointy and can kill shifters. A good weapon to have, don’t you think? But I didn’t say that. Instead I said, “We’re meeting with Gareth to give it to him. It will be placed under his protection.”
“I can take it off your hands and ensure you that he will get it,” he offered.
“Well, unless you also have a check to accompany that offer, I would rather give it to him myself,” Kalen said. I had no intention of being present for the handoff; Kalen being there was just as good.
Gray Eyes’ lips pulled into a straight line. “I can assure the Felidae Clan can match whatever the Guild is offering.”
Great, I just stepped into a nice pissing contest. The clans got along, somewhat—well, for appearances’ sake. If they ever seemed to be at odds with one another, the humans started to get a little gun and military twitchy, ready to step in and prevent a war before it could really start. There were only three shifter clans, which made things easy—Felidae, Canidae, and Ursidae—which seemed to serve as the catchall for shifters who didn’t belong in the Felidae and Canidae group.
The officer split his attention between me and the handcuffed vamps on the ground. They were still out, in a catatonic state. That wasn’t typical, and I couldn’t help but think about the wide, possessed eyes. Movements that seemed foreign to them and controlled by someone else, which made things even more peculiar. The only people who could master the mind of a vampire besides their sire were necromancers. We were more likely to find the Loch Ness Monster than a necromancer. There hadn’t been one in years—they really were extinct. Or perhaps they existed and were in hiding. But there wasn’t a reason for them not to exist; as long as they didn’t control vampires they would be fine and could speak to the dead, but not create revenants. Which I found ironic, because wasn’t that what a vampire was—a revenant?
Their extinction was their own doing, or so the stories of it would have you believe. It was a battle, before there was the apparent civility between the supernaturals. The necromancers had set out to control the vampires and make them servants. But even the most skilled necromancer couldn’t control a large number of them. The vampires chose to take the matter into their own hands and kill off the necromancers. Apparently they were successful at it, but lived with the reputation of being savages to most of the supernatural world, causing a strain.
I looked over at the vampires. I still had a nagging feeling that something seemed off. Who really was the target? Kalen? Me? The Necro-spear? The only person who seemed to want the spear more than we did was Daniel, and he wouldn
’t be able to control vampires in order to get it. A second thought crept in mind and was hard to dismiss. Was this another attempt by a Tracker? Plain sight attack and blame it on vampire bloodlust?
The SG officer couldn’t take his eyes off the Necro-spear to continue questioning me.
“Do you need anything else?” I asked stepping back, ready to return to the car.
“Your name?” he asked.
I considered giving him a fake name, but why? There wasn’t a name faker than the one that I went by. “Levy … Olivia Michaels.”
“Please make yourself available for further questioning,” he said firmly before he took another look at the spear and turned to walk away.
I agreed but really hoped that they could get what they needed from the gawking observers who had gathered around. As I ducked into the car, I couldn’t stop thinking about the vampires and their vacant eyes and wondering who was controlling them and why.
The silence between Kalen and me was a little uncomfortable. I was dangerous with the twins, and no matter how many times he’d seen me fight he still seemed to find something off-putting about it. I felt that way sometimes, too. My parents trained me to survive, because no one would protect me when they found out what I was, so I needed to protect myself. My mother was an expert with the sai. The sword was my dad’s weapon of choice, but at age five, when they first started teaching me to fight, I handled the sai better and never made the transition to a sword. I’d learned to use one and could wield it with a level of skill, but if I was ever up against a truly skilled swordsman, I wasn’t confident I would win. With my sai, I was always confident.
A look of admiration and sorrow always marked Kalen’s face when he saw me fight. He once made the comment that behind every good fighter was a tragic past. I can’t say that I agreed with him, but in my case it was true.
The buildings moved by slowly because Kalen was creeping down the streets, most of his focus on me. “Did you notice it?’
“Yeah.” I sighed my response. Vampires controlled by an external force were enough to make anyone a little leery. Shifters had won the supernatural lottery: they were immune to magic. Period. And the only trade-off was they turned into animals at a full moon. Vampires came in a close second. They weren’t immune, but you had to be a force to reckon with to use it against them. A simple spell wasn’t going to do it. Witches and faes didn’t stand a chance, and only upper-level mages could do anything to them. But controlling a vampire was a different level of magic—strong magic. Necromancer magic.
My mood mirrored his: uncomfortable apprehension. “What are you think—”
“Necromancer,” he blurted before I could get the question out fully. “Would it be hard to believe?”
“Possibly.” Which only brought up another group of problems. I hated to sort people into a group of “good” or “bad,” but I didn’t have a problem relegating them into the “creepy as fuck” category. Necromancers were now celebrated in folklore. Creative stories of their “death touch” and power to smite their enemies with something like a wisp of their breath against a cheek. I couldn’t count the number of auctions that had stones and artifacts so-called cursed by a necromancer. Yep, everyone wanted to destroy their enemy with an enchanted stone. Which was BS on hyperdrive. They had control over the dead and could perform dark magic, but from my knowledge they didn’t possess the touch of death.
But I couldn’t destroy the world with a blink of my eye, and that’s a story that I’d heard about my kind. A Legacy, it sounded so regal, and at some point we were considered supernatural royalty until our fall. It was an unfortunate saying but it held true: we bear the sins of our fathers. But I bore the sins of a group of people I didn’t know, had never met, and would probably hate as much as others do. I would forever live in fear, eternally linked to them and their sin because I possessed the same magic. I’d always be associated with a group of people who felt that they were the only ones worthy of magic and thought it was a good idea to cast a spell to kill all others who weren’t Legacy. Nearly twenty-five years later, after the humans and other supernaturals formed an alliance and gave Legacy a well-deserved smackdown, I still had to hide. As far as the world knew they all were killed. In reality, some lived, including my parents, who had me nearly five years afterward.
For years we lived normal lives, secret, existing as the odd human family next door until we were found out. My dad was killed first, giving us time to escape, but it wasn’t long before my mother was found. Three years in foster homes made my parents’ death even harder to deal with. Now, at twenty-three, I felt like I had paid my dues and should be forgiven. I just didn’t know how to do it.
Necro-spear in hand, Kalen started up the stairs leading to the house, but I stopped to peak around to the door next to us to see if the shop was still open.
The neighborhood had been zoned for both business and residential use. Kalen used most of the home as his living quarters, but two rooms had been converted to offices. To our right was a bookstore and café. To our left was Molly’s, and she was often busy. She was a witch who specialized in effugium, or escape. For an hour of her time, with the use of magic she could take you anywhere you wanted to go—in your mind. Want to enjoy the thrill of the African Savanna? She’d take you there. The thrill of driving in the Grand Prix? Absolutely no need to travel to Monaco. She was good at her job, but most of all she was a very knowledgeable witch and historian. Kalen used her occasionally, but didn’t require her expertise often.
His extensive knowledge had earned him the loving title of KUI, King of Useless Information. It wasn’t a particularly nice nickname, but I wasn’t feeling particularly nice the day I gave it to him, when he decided to keep my latte away from me until I listened to the history of the coffee press. Twenty minutes of information didn’t really make me appreciate my coffee any more. Although he was a wealth of useful information, he had plenty whose usefulness I was on the fence about.
Molly’s door was shut, and the closed sign was hung out. So much for my hopes of finding a convenient source for more information about necromancers. I rushed up the stairs into the house behind Kalen.
As I passed the mirror, I took a look at myself and frowned. Dirty, covered in vampire blood, with parts of my dress torn, I needed a shower and clean clothes. “What time are you meeting Gareth?” I asked.
He glanced at his phone and made a face as he looked at the condition of his own clothes. “I have to call him to confirm that I have it. He’s aware that this might not have happened. This is one of the few times that a rumor actually turned out to be true.”
“Give me a head start. I need to shower, and I’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes.” Taking a shower was my personal preference because I didn’t want to make the passengers on the bus uncomfortable. Days like this I really hated my temperamental car. It had worked for a whole three weeks without giving out on me, so I guess it needed a break. I could afford a newer car, but was always reluctant to spend unnecessary money. I made decent money, but not enough to afford a brand-new car without dipping into the savings I maintained if I ever needed to disappear in a hurry.
“Levy, you don’t have to take the bus. I have a car you can borrow.”
Kalen came from money—a lot of it. And although he attempted to live without relying on it, it was apparent that he could afford the costliest of accidents. He didn’t think much of loaning someone a car that cost more than what they made in a year. And for a moment I considered it. I hated public transportation. But even if I didn’t have time to shower and still clear out of Kalen’s before the Guild leader arrived, I could get on the bus with the blood and grime still fresh from my fight with the vampires and still not be the dirtiest person on the bus. I decided not to the accept the offer.
“What’s your issue with shifters anyway?” he asked, walking to the kitchen to wash his hands.
“I don’t have an issue. I just think they’re odd. Their extraordinary senses and immunity
to magic doesn’t bother you?”
He shrugged. “My magic wouldn’t help me much against them anyway.” Faes didn’t possess a great deal of defensive magic, but illusions, glamours, and manipulation of mind and emotions still made them a force to contend with except with shifters.
Examining the spear, he ran his fingers along the edges of the blade and then against the steel. “It looks like a regular dagger. I can’t believe it can do so much damage to shapeshifters.” It took a moment for him to pull his eyes away from it. The large blade could not only kill one, but also prevent them from shifting, similar to what one of my sai could do if it stayed embedded in the shifter. It was a hell of a weapon. But then again, my people didn’t half-ass on anything. Powerful magic was used to enchant all Legacy weapons so they could be used effectively against shifters. The magic radiated off it like a current. I know Kalen felt it. He held it, studying it with interest, drawn to it more than anything we had acquired over the years. For a brief moment I wondered if Gareth would even get the spear.
“When are you going to call him?” I asked.
The question seemed to have pulled him out of the reverie state that the Necro-spear had placed him in. I was curious about what drew him to it and was about to ask when his phone rang. He answered it, and not less than a minute later he said, “That was Gareth, he’ll be here in an hour.”
I quickly made my way up the stairs to the guest room where I always kept a change of clothing for times like this. It was better than anything in my apartment and reminded me of a posh bed-and-breakfast. The monochromatic room in various hues of blue still looked spacious despite the king-size bed in the middle of it. The closet was larger than my bedroom.
The shower hadn’t taken long, maybe fifteen minutes, so I was extremely surprised to hear a male’s deep voice as I descended the stairs. Gareth. Or I assumed it was Gareth. A man, at least three inches taller than Kalen, had his back to me. All I could see was his dark shirt that clung to the muscles of his back. Spear in his hand, he was engaged in a conversation with Kalen—ugh, sports. I made my way down the stairs toward the back to make a quiet exit out the back door.
Double-Sided Magic (Legacy Series Book 1) Page 3