Sorcerer's Creed Books 1-3

by N. P. Martin

  The crowd didn't seem convinced. The bum wasn't exactly the most credible of sources. Several feet back from the crowd, Benji stood as he filmed everything on my iPhone, a slight look of confusion on his face as he probably wondered what the hell I was up to. But bless him, he played along, loyal little apprentice (sort of) that he was.

  "You're crazy," someone shouted.

  "No!" I shouted back, holding up the placard again. "This woman right here--this bloodsucking vampire--is crazy. You want to know the other name this woman--this vampire--goes by? The Crimson Crow. And you know why? Because she plucks out the eyes of her victims before she drains them dry, that's why. That's the kind of woman--the kind of vampire--you people are about to elect as Mayor of this great city. Do you really want a vampire in charge? Hell, who am I kidding? She's already in charge. She's ruled this city for over a century. And now she wants more. She wants to rule you from the light now, not just the shadows."

  Many of the crowd began to disperse at that point, especially parents who had small kids with them, the parents throwing me angry looks for disturbing the little ones. If anyone were going to phone the cops on me, it would be one of them, the angry, protective parents. But it also seemed that many other people had become interested enough in what I had to say to fill up the gaps left by the ones who had moved on. They all may have thought I was crazy, but at least I was crazy in an interesting way. Even a crowd of goths came over when they heard me mention vampires. Then some smartass shouted out, "If Crow is a vampire, how can she be in the sunlight? Everyone knows vampires can't live in the sunlight."

  "You’ve obviously never seen True Blood," a Southern-accented woman yelled out. "Vampires burn up in the sun."

  "Not this one!" I responded. "The Crimson Crow is the only one of her kind that can walk in the sunlight without burning up into ashes."

  "That's convenient!"

  "For her, yes!" I said. "Now she can do things like run for Mayor of this town. Do you really want a vampire to be Mayor of this cherished town? Do you?"

  "I think it would be kinda cool," some kid said.

  "I don't care what she is," some other guy shouted. "I wouldn't kick her out of bed."

  The crowd laughed at that one.

  "Go on," I shouted, injecting some righteous anger into my voice now. "Laugh, all of you. We'll see how much you laugh when the Crimson Crow turns this city into a giant blood bank and drains you all dry."

  "Screw you."

  "That doesn't make sense. What would be the point?"

  "You're deluded, buddy! Piss off and shout your brand of crazy somewhere else."

  The crowd was getting annoyed now, which is what I wanted. Now for the closing act.

  "And that's not all," I shouted louder over the boos and putdowns, at the same time, noticing the park cops driving towards the zoo, which meant I didn't have much time left. "There is magick in this town. Real magick. Magick so powerful you wouldn't believe it."

  "And I suppose you're a fucking magician," a young man said.

  "That's right," I said pointing at him. "I am!"

  More of the crowd began to move away as they'd had enough of my crazy talk, despite the fact that every single word that I had said was true. It seemed people don't really know the truth even if it slaps them in the face.

  Time for the big finale.

  "I can prove it," I said, causing some people to turn back.

  "Go on then, David Blaine."

  I dropped the loudspeaker onto the bench I was standing on and conjured up a small fireball in my hand, something I was loath to do, but which had to be done. Just about everybody gasped as I held out my hand, the fireball--about the size of a tennis ball--spinning slightly as it spat out small flames. "Is this magick enough for you?" I said.

  Then I launched the fireball at a nearby litter bin, intending to finish with dramatic effect before the park cops came and arrested me. But there were so many Sleepwalkers in attendance that their collective ignorance threw the magick off completely. Instead of hitting the litter bin as planned, the fireball did an abrupt about turn and rocketed into the crowd, slamming into a man's back and exploding into flames on impact. People screamed as most of them ran away in a panic. The few who remained were frantically trying to douse the flames that covered the fallen man's back.

  "Oh shit," I said, jumping down off the bench to go and put out the burning man before he got charred to a crisp. But as I jumped down, a voice stopped me.

  "Stay where you are!" It was a park cop, his gun drawn and trained one me. I recognized him immediately from the last time I was in the park with Leona when we were there to sort out the kid vampire who was snacking on a golden retriever.

  "That man is on fire," I said. "He needs my help."

  "It's under control," the middle-aged and overweight park cop said. "Wait a minute. I know you. You were with that ballbuster from Homeland a while ago."

  I nodded. "That's me. You going to arrest me?"

  "You just set a guy on fire. Of course I'm going to fucking arrest you. Get down on the ground."

  "No."

  "What?" The cop looked confused.

  "I'm not going anywhere until these people acknowledge the darkness that rules this city, that keeps them down," I shouted.

  "What the fuck are you talking about?" the cop said. "Are you on drugs?"

  "You're the fucking darkness!" someone shouted, and I looked over to see the man who had been hit by the fireball clambering to his feet, his jacket off and lying charred on the ground. Despite the man's anger towards me, I was relieved to see that he was okay. Mostly anyway.

  "How right you are," I shouted back. "We are all the darkness! All of us! We're all doomed, doomed I tell you!"

  "Alright asshole," the cop shouted. "Get down now, or I swear I'll fucking shoot you. Do it!"

  I think I'd done enough. I did as the cop said and got down on my knees. Over by the zoo gates, Benji was still filming, and I smiled over at him as the fat cop pushed me down to the ground and cuffed my hands behind my back. In response, Benji just shook his head like he was wondering what he got himself into in hooking up with me.

  I couldn't blame the kid.

  6

  Daywalker

  After getting myself arrested by the park cops, I was bundled into the back of their car (which smelled like fried onions and farts) and driven to the nearest precinct, which happened to be in Mint Ridge just around the corner from the Odeon Theater. The fat arresting officer escorted me inside the precinct building and left me at the reception desk, gleefully informing me before he left that I was probably looking at an attempted murder charge for setting a man on fire. I panicked slightly when I heard him say that, thinking that I was about to get swallowed up by the system and thrown in jail for the next twenty years or so. Then I shook my head at such a ridiculous notion. For a start, Brentwood would never let that happen. He'd have me out of that stinking police station in no time. I only did what he asked me to do after all. And even if I did end up in jail, how long do you think a jail cell could hold me, a practicing sorcerer with more tricks up his sleeve than Donald Trump?

  At the sergeant's desk, the only thing I gave the cop was my name. Then I told him to call Brentwood at Homeland.

  "You're not on our system," the desk sergeant said, a slightly built man in his fifties who looked like he couldn't wait to retire so he could spend the rest of his days fishing. "You're not on any system."

  "No," I said. "Just call Brentwood. He'll sort this out."

  The cop looked at me with tired blue eyes, clearly thinking I was some crazy person. It appeared he didn't believe me. A moment later, I was escorted to a holding cell by another uniformed cop and left there for nearly an hour before two serious-looking men in dark suits came into the station and asked for me. From the holding cell, I could see across to the front desk as the cop and the two suits stared over at me, and I gave them a little wave as if all this was just a big misunderstanding. Initially, I though
t the two men were from Division, there to spring me from my jail cell. As it turned out, the two suits were indeed there to spring me, but they were not from Division. They were from a much worse organization.

  The Crimson Crow's.

  After being bundled into the back of a black SUV, I was driven to the Highlands where the Crimson Crow lived in a heavily guarded and fortified building situated a few blocks away from Green Street and the stock market. I can't say I was too put out by the situation as I already knew Angela Crow would inevitably get wind of my little stunt in the park. And now that she was running for public office, I also knew she would be extra sensitive when it came to maintaining a squeaky clean reputation. As I was taken out of the SUV by the two suits and escorted into the huge stone building that was dubbed Crow Enterprises, I had visions of Angela Crow pacing around in her penthouse suite, fuming that I had seen fit to try and sully her reputation. And not only that but to publicly proclaim her a vampire and announce the existence of magick and a powerful shadow government...she was going to be so pissed.

  The two suits stood either side of me in the elevator as we traveled up to the penthouse. It was a journey I'd taken only once before, a long time ago. At that time, I thought I was traveling up to meet my death at the hands of the Crow. As it turned out, we struck a deal, and I got to live. I doubt this time she was going to kill me over the stunt at the park. But it was the Crimson Crow. Who knew what she would do? She tended to place a lot of value on her precious reputation, and anyone who damaged that carefully maintained reputation had a habit of disappearing, never to be seen again. So I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous as I stood in that elevator sandwiched between two human members of Angela Crow's security team.

  I swallowed as the elevator doors pinged open, and then made my way with the security detail down a long corridor that was lined with plush red carpet. At the end of the hallway was a thick wooden door. The entrance to the penthouse. One of the guards knocked on the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door appeared to open by itself as though there was no one on the other side. A little trick I knew the Crimson Crow liked to play to unnerve people before they entered the suite. I had to admit, it did work. As the guards told me to move inside, I felt like a defenseless animal entering the cave of a dangerous predator.

  And make no mistake. The Crimson Crow was about as dangerous a predator as I've ever met. She was fucking apex all the way. Not only did she have the physical capacity, but she also had the necessary psychological makeup that allowed her to care for no one but herself. She may have been beautiful, but she was also cold, calculating and brutal in her ways. I'll never know what Uncle Ray saw in her. Come to think of it, I'll never what she saw in him either. There must have been strange magick at work there, I tell you.

  "Angela?" I said as I walked into the suite, jumping slightly as the heavy wooden door suddenly slammed behind me. The lights in the suite were dimmed down low, so there was more darkness in the huge room than light. Shadows were cast everywhere like swathes of black velvet. It also didn't help that the windows in the suite were bricked up. Which surprised me, because I thought Angela Crow would have uncovered them when she became a Daywalker. Obviously, she still preferred the dark, probably drawn to it like a nocturnal animal.

  I called her name out again, trying to sound like I wasn't afraid. "I can assure you that this whole thing is just a big mis--"

  A hand with claws that dug painfully into my neck suddenly gripped me from out of nowhere, and before I knew it, I was being driven back through the air, only stopping when my back slammed into the wall. All the breath was forced out of me, and I went limp as my eyes gradually focused on the two burning red orbs in front of me, and the two impressively long and sharp as fuck fangs that seemed to stick out massively in the gloom. "Not another word," said a voice in pure menace.

  The hand around my neck squeezed harder until I could no longer breath. Instinctively, I grabbed the hand as I tried to pull it away from my neck, but the grip was like a vice, the arm like steel. As wooziness began to set in, I tried to call upon my magick, but it was too late for that. I had no time to conjure anything useful. Besides that, my neck would be snapped once the vampire felt what I was doing. The only thing I could do was hold on and hope she didn't kill me.

  And just as I was about to black out, the grip around my throat was released, and I fell to the floor like a crash test dummy, my lungs working overtime to replenish my oxygen-starved body again. I sat rubbing at my throat as Angela Crow stood over me like the world's scariest supermodel, dressed as she was in her favorite color of white in the form of a tight-fitting skirt and a jacket that didn't leave much to the imagination. Her platinum blond hair was scraped back and tied up on top of her head, and her lips were painted that deep crimson color she always favored. Her previously burning red eyes had now reverted to their normal cold blue. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart?" she said coldly.

  I coughed and swallowed several times before I was able to speak. "Because," I finally replied. "You'd just be killing yourself, remember?"

  Angela Crow snarled at me, her fangs still down. "It might be worth it just to get rid of you, Creed. I should have killed you years ago when I had the chance."

  I shook my head as I stood up, very glad that I had had foresight years ago to install a magickal bomb in the vampire's chest at the same time as I gave her the power to walk in the daylight. Or at least, that's what she thought. She had no way to prove it wasn't true. I'm not saying if it is or it isn't true. It doesn't matter anyway. She thinks it's true. That's all that matters. "Come on, Angela. Don't you think you might be overreacting here just a bit?"

  She bared her fangs as she leaned in towards me. "You shouted from the roof tops that I was a fucking vampire!"

  "Hardly from the rooftops. It was in the park. Not that many people heard. And anyway, no one believed a word I said. Have you any whiskey here? My throat is a little sore."

  The vampire stared hard at me for a moment, then shook her head as she turned away, crossing the shagpile carpet (what is it with vampires and fucking shagpile?) and moving through the shadows towards a large drinks cabinet. "You better have a good reason for that stunt you pulled," she said as she poured two large whiskeys. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm running for mayor."

  "I noticed," I said as I walked to the leather corner suite and sat down. "What's that about?"

  Angela Crow brought the whiskeys over and handed one to me, which I gratefully received. She didn't bother to sit down, choosing instead to remain standing as if she always had to maintain dominance. "This city needs me."

  I tried to keep a straight face as I stared at her. "Really? How?"

  Her lips pursed as she stared at me, and despite her animosity, I couldn't help but marvel at the pale marble smoothness of her skin, and her exquisitely featured face. Like all predators, the Crimson Crow was a thing of rare beauty. "Don't test me, Creed. Just tell me what you were playing at in the park."

  "I'm going undercover," I told her. "That little performance in the park was my way in. Hopefully anyway. We'll see."

  "Undercover? Where?"

  There was no reason not to tell her. She was hardly one of them anyway. "A subversive group called the Scientists of the Arcane. Or SciCane for short. Bunch of nut jobs, but they have power."

  Angela Crow tilted her head back as she peered down at me, her jawline perfect. "I've heard of them. They are on my shitlist, in fact."

  "You have a shitlist? That doesn't surprise me. Where am I on it?"

  "Not at the bottom anyway."

  I smiled. "Good to know."

  She shook her head. "I've known about this group for a while. They were relatively harmless until recently. What's changed?"

  "They got their hands on a book called the Dark Codex. I'm sure you know it."

  "Of course. How in the hell did a bunch of silly subversives get their hands on such a book?"

  "I've no idea. But g
oing by that recent energy blast, it's clear that they did. I've also been told that they have created their own dimension, and have found a way for people to enter the Astral Plane without leaving their body first."

  "Impossible."

  "You would have thought so, wouldn't you? But that's the power of the Dark Codex. It unlocks secrets of the universe that shouldn't be unlocked."

  Angela Crow shook her head and finally took a seat beside me. "This news worries me."

  "It should," I said. "These guys have the potential to do serious damage. They could destroy everything. And I mean everything. The world. Maybe even the universe itself. There's a reason that book was kept hidden for so long. It's just too damn dangerous."

  "Clearly," she said. "But you are going to stop the people and recover the book, aren't you, Creed?"

  I stared at her a moment. "You wouldn't be entertaining thoughts about owning that book, would you, Angela?"

  Her face remained impassive. "What do you take me for?"

  Best not to answer that, I thought. At least not honestly. "Just as long as you know, as soon as I locate the book, I'm destroying it. Which as an obsessive bibliophile like yourself, will hurt me more than words can say, but it has to be done. Some knowledge should stay buried."

  "At least for now," she said, a hint of a smile on her face.

  "Spoken like a true immortal."

  Her smile remained, as did mine. While there was certainly no love between Angela Crow and myself, we did understand each other fairly well, something she seemed to appreciate, despite the fact that she would have happily killed me if she thought she would get away with it. "How's the whiskey?"

  "Good, thanks. It's helping with my throat." I rubbed my throat as if to draw attention to it.

  "You're a smartass, Creed. Always have been."

  "It gets me through. What gets you through?"

  "Blood. Money. Power. The usual."

  I nodded. "You ever hear from Jennifer?" It was a dumb question, but it just slipped out. Jennifer is Angela Crow's daughter. I helped Jennifer escape her mother's clutches over twenty years ago. Jennifer now resides off-world in Babylon.