Double-Sided Magic (Legacy Series Book 1)

by McKenzie Hunter

Even if by chance you missed the ring around their pupils that was a couple of shades darker than their dominant eye color, I still thought detecting a shapeshifter was something that all humans could do. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, there was something about them. Like being near an animal. You know which one you can cuddle, hug, and play with and which one you need to stay away from.

  “Necromancers are the only ones I know who can control vampires,” I said. “And I don’t know of anyone who can control shapeshifters.”

  “Animancer,” he said. He seemed just as shocked by the word as it spilled from his lips.

  “I’ve never heard of one. Do they really exist? “

  “You know how I feel about things being so-called extinct. It is rarely true. Something that we tell ourselves to make us feel comfortable.”

  I shuddered under the intensity of his extended contemplation. Heat crept up my neck and cheek. Fuck. Do you know? My tongue slid across my lips, moistening them, and even though I took another drink from the bottle my mouth was drier than it had ever been. He didn’t do anything that led me to believe he did. Instead he got up and got another ale for the both of us.

  “Let’s say we are dealing with one. Why would a necromancer and an animancer be working together? And are they the ones responsible for the last seven deaths?” He spoke so softly, I figured he was trying to work this out in his head. So many things didn’t align. He frowned. “Unless”—he stopped, as if he didn’t like what he was about to say—“unless, it’s a higher-level mage. It’s been rumored that some of them have necromancy abilities, similar to practicing dark arts. But I’ve never seen it or been able to confirm it. Knowing the mages as I do, I wouldn’t put it past them to have started the rumor to vaunt about their power,” he offered, displaying irritation similar to what he’d had with Jonathan at the Haven.

  “We need to try to find one, and I’m sure that we’ll find the other.” Unless they weren’t connected and were independent of each other. But I didn’t believe in random events. A necromancer, an animancer, a missing Necro-spear, a dead witch, two dead faes, a dead mage, and a dead shifter. They were all connected—not just to one another, but to me, too.

  He stood. “It will probably be easier to find the necromancer or”—he scowled, and his voice dropped to a rumble—“mage by using the controlled’s sire. Tomorrow I’ll go see Lucas.”

  Responding to my look of confusion he said, “The vampire on the Magic Council.”

  Oh, the blond pervy one who wanted to know if the vampire looked horny.

  CHAPTER 10

  I wasn’t sure if I was invited to go with Gareth to visit Lucas, but after I was dressed back in my clothes and in the car with him as we headed to my house, I invited myself by asking when he was going to pick me up to go see Lucas. I must have caught him off guard because there was an awkward pause. But after long consideration he told me that he planned to go at eleven at night. Although vampires could walk in the daylight they preferred night because it was when they were at their strongest. Weakened by the sunlight, they considered it an unnecessary hassle to go out in it.

  “So you think that Lucas will know if there is a necromancer in town or mage who has necromancer abilities?”

  He considered it for a while as though he didn’t want to give me misinformation, or was determining what information was appropriate for me to know. It was at that moment I knew that we weren’t in a partnership. I was expected to disclose everything I knew; however, he was going to be selective about what he was willing to share. Which made me feel foolish for even considering, even in passing, telling him what I was. He was committed to the Guild, and his loyalties lay there along with his commitment to protect and maintain the alliance that they had with the humans.

  “He’s responsible for siring most of the vampires in this area. He’s linked to them and their progeny. When necessary a vampire can control and find his progeny. Hopefully, he will be able to direct us to the vampires who sired them and help me find out who is controlling the younger vampires. It’s very hard for a necromancer to control an older vamp so they will always go after the young ones. And vampires younger than a century old are still at the mercy of their sire.”

  When he drove up to my apartment, I told him I’d see him tomorrow, and once again there was an odd pregnant silence. I figured he was trying to decide if he was going to let me come with him. “If I’m with you, I’m probably going to stay out of trouble,” I offered with a smile.

  He chuckled. “I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

  Savannah was on the couch watching TV when I came in, and she gave me the same assessing look that she’d given me ever since I got out of the Haven. I kept my arm turned palm down, hiding the fresh scarring. When I crossed my arms over my chest, it was totally concealed as I sat on the far end trying to answer the laundry list of questions she had. I gave her a slight rundown of everything that had happened trying to give the amended “it wasn’t that dangerous” version of it. No amount of editing could make letting a witch play inside my head, a magical attack, a fight with shapeshifters, and the possible discovery of a necromancer and animancer sound like just another day at the office.

  “So you spent the day with Gareth?” Her interest was piqued and a wide grin took over her face. It was almost the same infatuated, whimsical look she had around vampires. I thought our last night at Crimson was enough to squelch her uncharacteristic and peculiar infatuation.

  “Yeah, there was a bunch of other information before that, too,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her in silent ridicule of her behavior. I lived with her and she still didn’t get my glare of derision. Kalen could see it from across the room. It didn’t really matter though because he always met it with a quelling look and a shrug of dismissal. Savannah was still smiling at me like a crush-struck tween. “He’s very handsome.”

  “How do you know?” When she met him at the club she’d been drifting in and out too much to get a good look at him, and he left once he was informed she was doing well. All she knew of Gareth was that he was the guy who carried her out of a club; she wasn’t in a position to identify him.

  Her face streaked rose as she gave me a faint smile. “When they arrested you and I couldn’t get in the Haven, I visited him several times. Ten times to be exact. After I was escorted off the premises a couple of times, he agreed to meet with me. I guess he figured that was the only way to get me to stop.”

  I shrugged. “Did he threaten to have you arrested? Because that seems to be his thing.”

  “He didn’t, but a couple of jerks at the Guild did. Along with the various threats of magic and spells they vowed they would use on me if I didn’t go away. After my ninth visit, the woman at the front desk told me to have a seat, and she called him. An hour later, I met with him. For a man who was probably called out of bed to meet with me, he looked very good. Very. Good.”

  “So you’re the reason they pulled me out of bed in the wee hours of the night to question me.” I thought of Savannah storming down to the Guild in protest gear, engaging in her one-woman stand against the machine. “Well you’re lucky. He threatened to have me arrested when I refused to cooperate.”

  She dismissed it with a wave. “That’s just misdirected courting.”

  “Hmm. So courting to you requires paperwork, bars, and possibly handcuffs?” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “I guess I need to watch you more closely, don’t want you to get mixed up with the wrong crowd.” She might have been swooning over him now, but if she got a look at my arm, she’d be swooning from afar, while interrogating him. I had edited the version enough that I didn’t seem like I was in as much danger, which was why she’d drifted off into fangirl land, most of the conversation being redirected to focus on Gareth. Telling her he was a Panthera leo spelaea, cave lion, would only have added to her fascination with him.

  CHAPTER 11

  I was pretty sure Gareth hadn’t planned on picking me up, but just when I was about to call him, he dro
ve up. I had no idea where we were going and clearly I was underdressed for the occasion, in jeans, a fitted tank, and a jacket that moved easily with me and would not get in my way if necessary—my vampire slaying outfit. I’d had enough vampires taking plugs out of my arm that I didn’t want to take a chance. He was dressed as he was the first time I’d seen him in his office. He had on black slacks and a button-down. The darker clothes made his eyes more brilliant. I didn’t have to look back at Savannah to know she was looking at him. He was crush worthy.

  “Have a good night, working,” she said from the door. I shot a glare at her over my shoulder, which she missed or rather ignored.

  “I didn’t realize that I had to dress to question a vampire,” I said as we made our way to the car. He stopped midstride and looked at me. His gaze roved, moving slowly over my face and stopping at my lips. He stepped closer. Then he continued to look, the curve of my neck, breast, and down and back.

  “You look fine,” he said in a low, even voice before making his way to the car.

  We had driven for nearly a half an hour when we drove past Crimson, the bar Savannah frequented, to another just five blocks away where the sign was missing and a few people—vamps and a couple of humans spilled out. I would have passed it and never thought twice about it if it weren’t for the two men dressed in the same uniform: dark designer suits, burgundy shirt, one button opened, and faces diamond-cutting hard. The line was short, just a few people waited. One gentleman took their money, the other checked them.

  I started for the back of the line when Gareth caught my wrist and led me toward the door. He was waved in, but one of the gentlemen stopped me.

  “You’ll need to remove the pins from her hair.”

  Damn. I’d pushed them in far enough that I thought they wouldn’t be detected, and on the off chance we were stopped, I wore a cross around my neck thinking that would be the only thing confiscated. They let me keep the cross but took the pins, which were nearly six inches long. When he examined them, taking in how sharp they were, he glared at me. My look of limpid-eyed innocence wasn’t fooling anyone, but I tried. Wide-eyed and naïve, channeling a childhood innocence that I wasn’t sure I’d ever possessed. In the end, they even found and confiscated the knife I had fixed to my ankle.

  The looks they shot in my direction were no longer signs of irritation—they were deadly. I stood between the two as they tested the boundaries of their power and dominance. Vicious and cool. I had the impression if Gareth wasn’t standing there, they would have let me know their thoughts and there didn’t seem to be anything kind about them.

  Gareth chuckled, a deep, melodious sound that mingled with the mesmeric music. The crowd moved seductively and sinuously to a provocative beat. Cool bodies moved around me; graceful people and their erotic movements commanded the room. Barely fettered lust cloaked every inch of the space. This wasn’t like Crimson at all. It was darker and libidinous. The more lascivious version of Crimson. A den of sin. People didn’t dance here, they molded to each other in an erotic motion that would extend to something off the dance floor. Vampires openly fed from people in the corner, and others walked around with glasses filled with sanguine liquid. It was the way I’d envisioned Crimson would be, but it turned out to be just a simple club where the young vampires, taking their cue from television, were either flirty or broody. This was where the grown-ups played. As I walked through the unknown club, I quickly realized I was out of my league.

  It was crowded, but not enough for the many hands that slid over me as though it couldn’t be avoided. Each time I looked up to give whoever it was a dirty look, it was met with dark alluring eyes and whispered invitations. Even with the short time I’d met Lucas, I could tell this seemed like a place he would hang out.

  “What is the name of this place?” I asked Gareth after I’d received my seventh invite to have a “drink” and I was positive I was what they wanted to quench their thirst with. One quick look at humans being fed from and I was sure.

  “Devour.” His voice was laden with amusement. “Why, do you plan on coming back?”

  “Not if I can help it.” I wanted to make sure I had a name because if Savannah ever recommended this place she was getting an emphatic no.

  We reached the back of the club and then went up a flight of stairs. Again met by another suit-wearing guard, who checked us again. We opened the door to an apartment, and when he closed it, I forgot I was in the club. Silence.

  A fully stocked bar on the right. And I had no idea why. A large kitchen with expensive stainless steel appliances, dark cabinets. The entire apartment had a theme of variations of black and gray. As we stepped farther into the dimly lit space, hints of light came from the sconces placed throughout the room. Gentle variations of black continued throughout the apartment with the exception of the white sofa and chair. Quite odd for a person who frequently drank blood and surely had accidents.

  “Olivia, I’m so happy to have you here.” I heard Lucas’s voice before he appeared from behind me and acted just like the rest of the touchy-feely vamps, his hand slinking over my back, hips, and down my arm before clasping my hand between his. Personal space was something he didn’t seem to believe in or care to acknowledge. After several uncomfortable moments, I pulled my hands away.

  “I never had the opportunity to apologize for the attack at my club. Did Savannah get my note and offer?”

  She hadn’t mentioned it, and I wondered why. Probably she knew if the offer was for her to come to this den of sin I wasn’t going to support it and would do what I could to stop it. “She hasn’t mentioned it.”

  He frowned. “I sent it two days ago. Things have been quite hectic. Perhaps I will deliver it in person—”

  “Give it to me, I’ll make sure she gets it.” I was sure that if Mr. All-American and Ginger had had her in full fangirl mode this sinfully sexy man would have her quickly abandoning all logic.

  “It was a check. I will deliver it again in person.”

  “When?”

  “Perhaps tomorrow.”

  “What time?”

  He simply smiled, casually amused, baring pearly whites and fangs. His features as sharp and defined as those fangs he exposed. He walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass of something thick and red while I pretended like it didn’t look very close to blood. And then he poured two tumblers of vodka and handed them to us. I was about to decline mine when Gareth took it and took a small sip, and then smiled in appreciation. He took another sip; again he offered a look of appreciation. I took the glass, but just put it to my lips to taste. It was probably the best vodka I’d ever tasted, but unless it was in a Cosmo, I rarely drank it.

  After taking a slow draw from his, let’s just call it, really red wine, he asked, “Gar, my friend, what brings you here?” The way he said friend it was evident that they were far from it. Not enemies. Probably a mutual respect but I was sure any animosity was deeply rooted in the fact they were both predators in their own rights. An existence independent of faes, witches, and mages. Immune to most magic, which afforded them certain advantages, and now they both had been the targets of magic that they considered themselves immune from.

  “I’m sure you are aware of the attacks that have taken place by your vampires, and you know they were being controlled by someone.”

  “I believe we have a necromancer among us,” he said, clenching his teeth. He gripped the glass harder. I expected it to shatter, and it probably would have if he hadn’t relaxed. The binding tension freed from his shoulders. Tilting his head in my direction, he studied me. A quaint smile flourished as he displayed an interest that was starting to make me feel uncomfortable. I crossed my arms, bringing my jacket around me more. He chuckled, a deep rolling sound, when I dropped his gaze and started to look around the room.

  “I need the names of their sires; perhaps they can help me or at least help me figure out when they lost control.”

  Lucas nodded, went to the antique writing desk, which
seemed to be an anachronism in such a modern loft, and took a seat at it. It was an eloquent production as he used it to jot down the names. Dressed as he was in his dark green slacks, Italian shoes, and tailored hunter green shirt, sitting at an aged desk composing a note didn’t seem odd. I wondered how old he was and if at any time he missed things or got overwhelmed with changes that were so different from what he once knew.

  As he handed the document to Gareth he looked in my direction again, his smile faint, gentle, and chaste, different from the ones he’d given me before. “I, for one, hope it isn’t a necromancer. I know they exist, but I would like to put our old ways behind us. Gareth, I hope that when you find this individual or individuals, you will allow me to speak to them prior to taking them to the Haven.”

  Gareth’s lips drew together in a frown. “Will you be speaking to them on behalf of the Council?”

  Lucas took another drink from his glass and turned his back to us, looking out the large window, his features locked in determination. “This person has made my people an embarrassment. I’ve ensured that my progeny and theirs never behave out of control. We are respected, something that we’d been denied for many centuries. Fear is fine, respect is better. How quickly the masses’ minds have changed to considering us savages who lack control. So no, I will not be speaking to him as a member of the Council, but as the Master of the city. Since those are the things you expect from me, I do believe it is in your best interest that you find him before I do.”

  “Lucas, just as I have a responsibility, so do you. As a member of the Council, you are bound by certain expectations and commitments.”

  He stood taller and sighed his discontent. “Oh yes, that Magic Council. How long have I been on it? Fifty? Sixty years?”

  “Ten,” Gareth offered.

  “It does have a way of making time drag. Nothing interesting ever happened until,”—he shifted his attention to me—“Ms. Michaels. Until your little incident we met monthly, I guess to make sure we were all still alive. We all handle ourselves and our problems well. It is quite rare that we have a human in our court. I am curious how you ended up in it. There doesn’t seem to be any steadfast criteria to the human justice system’s decisions. Humans are quite fickle that way.”