Crimes Against Magic (19 page)

"It's not your fault," I shouted at Thomas. He ignored me, only calming when he saw Ivy's body relax. She grabbed my forearms, holding on for all she was worth. I tried to push her away, but it was too late and she started to convulse once more, this time even more violently. 

"Shit," I said as she let go of me and crashed back to the ground, her dress riding up her legs to reveal a dark swirling mark on one thigh, about the size of her fist.  

Almost as fast as the convulsions started, they stopped and Ivy opened her eyes. "A thousand years of your life in an instant," she said. "I had no idea you were that old."

"Don't move. I'll get you some water."

Ivy shook her head. "I know what you are. You're the thing the monsters fear..." She coughed. I tried to get her some water for a second time, but she grabbed my arm and pulled herself toward me. When she spoke her voice was barely a whisper, but she might as well have shouted from the top of a mountain, "Merlin's Assassin."

Chapter 20

London, England. Now.

I wanted to submit my application for being shot in the shoulder as the most gut wrenchingly painful experience someone could have. 

The pain takes your breath away. The red hot, burning evilness running through your body, stopping any thought that doesn't involve the fact that you've been shot. And I had the joy of broken ribs and a general shit-kicking to add on top. It hadn't been a good day.

I vaguely remembered Jerry carrying me down into Francis' place of business. And then nothing until I heard Francis' voice above me, "Are you awake, Nathanial?"

I didn't even have the strength to tell him to fuck off for getting my name wrong. "My body hurts," I managed, as I opened one eye and tried to look around me. I was on a comfortable bed with metal bars on either side of me. It had probably once belonged to a hospital. The pillow covers were cold against my neck, and I found myself wanting to go back to sleep.

I forced my eyes to stay open and took in the rest of the room. The walls were familiar brick from the rest of the abandoned tube station, and like those, at one time it had been white. Some time ago it had been transformed into a strange mixture of old white paint and red brick dust. 

My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool. "What's wrong with me?"

"Apart from the gunshot?" Francis asked, placing something on a tray next to me with a clank that made me wince. "We had to give you something for the damage you sustained."

"What did you give me, Francis?" I asked concerned. I sat up and leaned back against the headboard. I felt woozy, like everything would start spinning the moment I tried to stand. I'd never been in the room I found myself in. A long wooden shelving unit sat along one side of me. It held boxes of what looked like surgical equipment. Each box had a large label on the front, some said needles while others contained gloves 

An expensive looking freezer was on the opposite side, like the type they use in hospitals to keep vials of medicine. Another metal tray sat on a table next to me with two vials on it, both labels were pointed away from me, but I could see that they were empty with two hypodermic needles beside them. Bloodied gloves and some gauze were next to the needles. I absentmindedly touched my bare chest, and found the lack of a hole there to be worrying.

"Why has the bullet hole closed?" I asked.

"Are you complaining?" Francis commented. "You should be grateful." He watched my expression for a few moments and sighed. "Firstly you need to understand. You had several broken ribs, a punctured lung and bullet hole just below your clavicle, the latter of which resulted in some silver poisoning, but managed to miss anything important. Your magic would have sorted them all out within the next few days, but I assumed you wouldn't want to rest for the time that would take. So, I hastened things along a little."

"What did you do, Francis?" 

 Francis' mute bodyguard entered the room and sat next to the arch. Francis turned to look at him. "You're avoiding the question," I said with an edge to my voice.

"As I said earlier," he started. "You were seriously injured. The biggest problem wasn't any of the injuries I listed, but this." He removed some gauze from my stomach, showing me three small claw marks, oozing a clear liquid. "The gargoyle must have hit you."

"Bastard was faster than I thought," I said with a forced smile.

"That
bastard
, as you so eloquently phrased it, nearly killed you. Gargoyles are venomous, their claws and teeth excrete a highly efficient toxin. They use it to incapacitate victims so they don't fight back while they're being eaten, like a snake or a spider. To combat this, I had to inject you with anti-venom." Francis tossed me a small empty vial, the word
gargoyle
inscribed on the front in bold letters. "A few years back I acquired the venom gland of a gargoyle. I've had people synthesising an anti-toxin since then. That vial you're holding is worth ten thousand pounds."

I looked down at the small glass object. "Are you serious?"

"Don't worry," Francis said with a wave of his hand. "We'll work out some sort of repayment scheme."

"Repay..." I began, but stopped. 

"Of course repay. How do you think my mute friend came into my service? A gargoyle ripped off his tongue, and I saved his life. He's indebted to me, although he does seem to enjoy his work."

The bodyguard smiled, thankfully without opening his lips to show the remains of his tongue. 

I was going to reply to Francis, but decided not to bother. He was being serious and arguing about it wouldn't change that fact. "Fine, I'll owe you. So what's numbing the pain, and why did I heal so fast? I assume that's not the anti-venom at work." 

"This is the part you will be unhappy about. I had to inject you with something else. Something to heal you quickly. I have a number of things that would work, but under the circumstances..."

"Francis."

"Vampire blood," Francis said. "My own to be exact."

Words actually failed me. I felt as dumb as my tongue-less friend in the corner. "You injected me with vampire blood?" My words were said slowly, ensuring I didn't get one wrong or accidentally call Francis a fucking asshat. "You're a vampire?"

Francis' expression managed to convey how stupid he thought that question was. "I live underground, and you've never seen me outside. I'm pale in complexion and obviously hundreds of years old. What did you think I was? Agoraphobic?"

I shrugged. "It just never occurred to me, that’s all." I swung my legs off the bed, grateful that Francis had left my jeans on along with my shoes and socks so that I didn't feel the coldness of the tiles as my feet touched them. I winced slightly at the movement, but felt happy that I wasn't utterly numb. "That's why I don't feel anything but a little dizziness," I said. "Because your blood is acting like an anaesthetic."

"Vampire blood, from someone of my power, has incredible healing qualities."

"Your power?" 

"I'm several hundred years old and have sired a dozen vampires. They mostly live in the tunnels around us. I assumed you would be angry with me, so I wanted to do it before you woke up."

"What other great effects might this have?"

"Well it could lessen your inhibitions, or cause hallucinations. But any of that will only be for the next few hours. Which is why you've got to stay here."

"Hallucinations? You've injected me with nonhuman PC-fucking-P," my voice rose about a hundred decibels at the last word.

Anger flashed on Francis' otherwise calm face. "I saved your life,
Nathanial
. The side effects are temporary and a tiny concern, compared with the fact that you're capable of breathing. That is something you should be grateful for." 

I sighed. Francis was right, I should be grateful I wasn't dead. A few hours of trippy weirdness wasn't a lot to bear, considering the alternative. "Can I get something to wear?" I asked and sat back on the bed. 

Francis' bodyguard left the room and returned a moment later with a stunning brunette woman, who wouldn't have looked out of place on a catwalk. She wore dark jeans and a red t-shirt that had a picture of a comic book character that I vaguely recognised as Blade, the phrase 'real vampires kick ass', was written underneath it. She passed me a plain black t-shirt. "My name's Laurel, I'll be watching over you tonight," she said. "Apparently you shouldn't be left alone." Her voice made a shiver go up my spine, something I really didn't need with a body full of something designed to lessen my inhibitions.

"Tomorrow we'll discuss how you managed to get in the state you were in," Francis said. "It's eleven pm, you've been unconscious all day, and I need to feed. I will see you in the morning." He turned to Laurel. "If he gives you any shit, knock him out."

She nodded and then smiled at me.

*****

We'd been at the cabin for hours on end, talking about our future in-between bouts of love making. We'd explored each other’s bodies several times over, learning every inch by taste and touch alone. 

 
When we were finally spent, we lay naked in each other's arms. I caressed her pale shoulder. Her long auburn hair cascaded across my chest. 

"This is going to be it, isn't it?" she asked, never looking up at me. "Tomorrow there will be war. I am your friend's enemy, and you shouldn't be here."

I pushed the thought aside, but the shadow of it lingered, reminding me what I would lose if my love for the woman were to be publicly acknowledged. "Yet I am anyway. He is my friend... my king, but he doesn't control my feelings." I sat up in bed, pushing the thick covers away. 

"You do terrible things for him, for Merlin too. I've heard what they call you. The rumours cast a darkness over you."

I sighed. I'd heard the rumours, too. And they didn't go anywhere near far enough to describe the things I'd done in the name of Avalon. "Horrible things need to be done to maintain a peace in this kingdom. Arthur is a good man... a great man. But he's not capable of such things. He would find the very idea of murders and assassinations to be abhorrent. I do whatever is needed."

"Would you kill me? If Merlin ordered you to?"

"Merlin is... was your teacher. He has a great affection for you and would never ask me to do such a thing. And if he did..." I let my answer trail off, afraid of what that thought would lead to. "Let's not discuss such matters." I crawled across the bed and took Morgan in my arms once more, kissing her hard on the mouth. She reciprocated and began to trace her tongue down my neck and chest.

 
"You're going to tire me out," Morgan said slyly as she began kissing my stomach.

"Then I'll know I've done my job right," I said and laughed, stopping immediately as she took me in her mouth. The next few minutes were awash with joy and ecstasy as Morgan did things with her tongue that no woman had ever done to me before. Morgan stopped abruptly just before the point of no return, moving back up toward me. "That's cruel, leaving me like that." My voice was ragged, and full of need.

She kissed me hard and the door exploded open. I immediately raised a shield of dense air alongside us, deflecting the tiny shards of wood as we rolled off the bed and onto the floor. 

I stood ready to kill the intruder, daggers of pure white air formed in my hands. Morgan was no slouch with magic, either. Her body became covered in thick rock, both protecting her and giving her a dangerous weapon.

"Who dares," I began.

"I dare," replied a familiar voice and a man stepped inside the room, the darkness from the forest beyond no longer casting thick shadows over his handsome face, and huge frame. Torches flared to life inside the cabin, orange glyphs blazing along his hands and forearms.

"Arthur," I whispered. The stone armour encasing Morgan vanished, along with my own daggers.

He took another step inside. "Get some goddamn clothes on."

*****

My eyes shot open and I bolted upright, taking in huge breaths as I fought to calm myself. Laurel was at my side in an instant, her hand on my chest, lowering me back to the bed. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I nodded. "I… I’m not sure. I don’t know what I just saw, but it was so real."

She smiled slightly as if recalling an old memory. "Probably a hallucination, they can be real mind fucks sometimes." 

I stared at Laurel's hair. It was almost the exact same shade as the woman in my dream. Maybe it was exactly what Laurel said it was, but something inside me remained unconvinced. "Probably. How long was I out?"

"About three hours. I managed to finish my book." She pointed over to a comfortable leather armchair and a table, neither of which had been here when I'd fallen asleep. 

"Any good?" I asked. "And any chance of some food?"

"It was about vampires, and they got most of it wrong. But it was enjoyable. The vampire died though, which wasn't the best ending ever." She walked over to her chair and removed a blue cooler from behind it, placing it next to me on the bed. 

I opened it to find sandwiches, crisps, an assortment of chocolates and soft drinks. I grabbed a large BLT roll and set about filling my stomach, which growled in response. "So you're a vampire, I take it." 

Laurel nodded. 

I opened a can of coke with a loud hiss and savoured the cold as I took a long drink. "Shouldn't you be feeding too?"

"Already did, that's why I was late in coming. I didn't fancy rat hunting first thing in the morning, because I couldn't eat during the night."

"So do you all use humans?"

"Some of us do. But Francis owns several clubs that cater to our needs, as well as a few slaughter houses. As nice as human blood is, it's good to have a change once in a while."