Magic Resistant (22 page)

“I’m so proud of you. I can’t believe you
finally have a show at AGO. So how are you feeling, nervous,
excited, bored?” Giddy excitement bubbled in Julia's veins. Her
words rushed over each other.

Keep this up and you'll be dancing around
like a child.
She thought in disgust. Her role as a bodyguard
wouldn't fool anyone if she didn't act like a professional.

Behaving like a schoolgirl at her first dance
was unacceptable. As an Enforcer, she’d been to many highbrow
functions, met dignitaries from different countries as well as
other races, and spent time guarding high-profile people.

This was different though. This was her
friend. Dawn had spent considerable time and effort trying to
impress the AGO.

As they stepped out of the taxi, Dawn
whispered to her, “I’m so excited. The butterflies in my stomach
have turned into ravenous beasts, ready to tear out of me. I hope I
don’t embarrass myself, like feeding on the director. Don’t let me
feed on anyone, okay? You know how I get when I’m nervous. Some
people chew on their nails. I chew on people.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll do great. Everyone will
love you and your paintings.” It wasn’t a role she took often with
Dawn, becoming the rock to steady her friend, but it was one she
did gladly. She slipped her hand into Dawn’s to give it a quick
squeeze, lending her support. She received a dazzling smile in
return and the faint tension leeched out of Dawn.

They both waded through the milling crowd,
making their way up the front stairs. Julia silently whistled,
impressed with the towering glass walls and as they entered, she
quietly gasped at the sculptural staircase.

She reminded herself to close her gaping
mouth as it made her appear touristy. Her, a native Torontonian,
looking like a tourist, she scoffed to herself. She recalled
reading about the changes made to the gallery a few years back, but
this was her first time seeing the transformation.

A perfect place to showcase Dawn’s
paintings.

Security gave them a quick once over, not
paying attention to the spell energy clinging to Julia, as it did
to all mages. Sure enough, their human essence washed over her. It
appeared no one warned them about supernatural guests.

Or, other precautions were in place for her
kind.

At least no one searched her purse or frisked
her. They would have found the spell components and a blade
strapped to her outer thigh. An accessory no woman should be
without.

Jackson had taken great pleasure in
fashioning a sheath for her and buckling it into place. What a
sweet man. Most gave flowers, but he gave her a way to hide a
lethal weapon. What more could a woman want?

“I need to speak to the director, make sure
everything is hung correctly. Don’t worry, pet, the butterflies are
no longer hungry.” A serene smile followed by a swift hug before
Dawn slipped into the crowd.

Julia decided now was a good time as any to
check out security and opened herself to the wards. She touched the
threads of each spell with care and identified several of them.
“Pacifism” to reduce aggression, “detection” to pinpoint intruders,
“glue” on the artwork to keep them in their place and “camouflage”
to hide the mages themselves.

“I can smell him on you.” A voice behind her
said.

Astonished, she whirled around to see a
gorgeous redheaded woman in a skin-tight black dress. The lace on
the top played peek-a-boo with the creamy swell of her breasts and
a light dusting of freckles spread along her shoulders.

“Um, I’m sorry?” She asked, positive she'd
misheard. An odd statement, one she never expected from another
person, let alone a complete stranger.

“I said, I can smell him on you.” The other
woman gave her a friendly smile, not at all uncomfortable with the
situation.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. And I gotta
say, that’s kinda creepy. Do I know you?” Julia sensed her werewolf
aura, a faint intangible feeling of
otherness
.

Under normal circumstances, Julia had few
dealings with werewolves.

Excluding them trying to kill her.

This better not be another assassination
attempt. While she didn’t want to alert the humans she was here,
she wouldn't lie down and expose her belly. The other mages, she
didn’t worry about. They would have sensed her essence, recognized
her as a mage. She counted on them assuming her role was that of a
hired bodyguard.

“I’m Sylvia.” She paused, expecting her to
recognize the name. It took a few moments, but recognition dawned
on her face and Sylvia smiled wider. Jackson’s werewolf friend, the
Enforcer.

“Yes, that’s me. And no other names,
please.”

“Well, he never told me how attractive you
are.” Julia said, sizing her up.

Physically, there was no comparison between
the two women. She was rather commonplace even with Dawn’s help to
create a sexy image- short, with plain brown hair and boring brown
eyes. She had curves and muscle tone, but her appearance was not
nearly as striking as the woman before her. Sylvia was tall, almost
topping six feet with thick auburn hair and arresting blue eyes.
She exuded confidence and sexual prowess. The only thing Julia ever
exuded was calm competency.

Sylvia laughed with delight. “Oh sweetie, you
have no worries. An urge neither of us had. He’s a friend and
that’s it. Not even a drunken night shadowing our past. Plus, I’ve
been crushing on someone else for years. He’s never felt the same
way about me though.”

A hint of sadness shadowed her eyes, a deep
pain haunting her.

Curious to hear more, Julia started to ask
when Sylvia covered her emotions with a bright smile and continued
in a cheery voice, “Oh, the stories I could tell you about our
mutual friend. One time, he decided he wanted to run with the pack.
He figured shapeshifting shouldn’t be too difficult. Just use a
spell, right?”

She broke off in laughter, a genuinely happy
sound as she recalled the situation.

“He got stuck halfway through. Couldn’t wrap
his mind around being an animal, so he was part wolf, part man.
Funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Random fur all over his body. He
grew the ears. Opposite foot and hand changed into paws. And best
of all, he had a tail. The look on his face was priceless. He was
so worried he’d be stuck like that forever. We had to call in one
of your senior Enforcers to dispel him, Markus.” Sylvia giggled
over the memory.

Markus’ name caught Julia off guard. She’d
never heard about this. She and Jackson were close in age, so this
would’ve happened after her partnership with Markus. Why didn’t he
mention this to her?

Sylvia continued, “After that, he decided he
didn’t need to run with the pack that badly. From what he told me,
him and Markus became pretty good friends. Hurt him to find Markus
hunting him, but he understands it’s part of the job.”

Julia barely managed to stop her jaw from
dropping. Friends?

Not once had Markus mentioned Jackson to her,
let alone having a friendship. She wasn’t jealous. Of course Markus
had a life outside of them working together, but why keep important
information like this from her? And for that matter, why didn’t
Jackson mention anything to her? He knew Markus was her mentor and
Enforcer partner.

Not realizing the turmoil she caused in
Julia, Sylvia said “Let me show you around. I can tell you who the
big players are.”

The other woman linked her arm through
Julia’s, startling her with the familiarity. Werewolves were a
touchy bunch, but only with their pack. Did she consider Julia pack
due to her relationship with Jackson?

Before she asked the question, Sylvia pulled
her through the crowd, parting the crush of bodies. A playful smile
accompanied Sylvia’s words as she pointed out the all the rich and
powerful people who made up a large portion of the gallery’s
clientele. Many smiled back and a few tried to catch her attention,
but she politely dismissed them with a glance.

“That one,” Sylvia said gesturing to a
middle-aged, balding man. “is sleeping with his secretary. Oops,
sorry, administrative assistant.”

She discreetly pointed to the sweet, young
woman a few feet away from him.

“And that is his wife. His pissed off,
in-the-know wife.” Her last gesture took in a portly, middle-aged
woman near the cheating husband.

When Julia looked at her quizzically, she
tapped her nose and explained, “Werewolves can smell these things.
His scent is all over the secretary and he’s exuding a territorial
scent towards her. The wife smells of anger and hurt. That’s why
werewolves don’t cheat. We can sniff it out and we can be pretty
damn mean when we’re ticked off. Also it’s why I knew you were his.
He has his distinct marking on you.”

Initially pleased Jackson felt so strongly
about her, horror crept up on her. If Sylvia detected it then so
could other werewolves.

“Wait, won’t that cause problems? Every wolf
will know, will target me ‘cause of him.”

Sylvia smiled. “Oh, don’t worry, dear. The
werewolves want absolutely nothing to do with you. They don’t care
who the orders come from now because they are all scared spitless
of Revenant. And with good reason. I’ve seen the aftermath of when
he went ballistic over his orders being defied. Mild compared to
his fury over you and Jackson being attacked. He was quite clear to
leave you two the hell alone. No one will disobey him.”

“Wouldn’t this be an issue then, you talking
to me?” Julia didn’t want the other woman to get in trouble. She
was, admittedly, beginning to like her. She’d gone out of her way
to make Julia comfortable in an unfamiliar situation, discreetly
gave her information about some major players in the room and
seemed genuinely nice.

Letting loose a peal of laughter, Sylvia
leaned over and hugged Julia. She then whispered in her ear, “We
have an interested party ogling us. Not sure if they’re looking at
two gorgeous women or if they’re eyeing us for something else.
Whatever you do, don’t trust anyone here. Do not accept any drinks
or food. I’ve heard a few unpleasant rumours about these
gatherings. I’m safe thanks to my werewolf metabolism. Drugs fade
quickly. But you, you’d be helpless. These people don’t believe
Revenant is real and won’t respect his orders.”

While Julia mulled over this information,
Sylvia straightened, pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear
and gave a soft, sad smile to her. “I need to meet someone, for our
mutual friend. If I don’t see you again tonight, tell him I said
hi.”

Julia watched as she threaded her way through
the crowd, stopping to chat here and there, always with a warm,
friendly smile. Although, now that Julia had been on the receiving
end of her genuine smile, Sylvia’s reserved one was a dim
facsimile. A few minutes and she lost sight of her in the crush of
bodies.

Time to look for Dawn.

JULIA WANDERED THROUGH the crowds, admiring
the paintings and sculptures. Dawn preferred to paint and several
of her new works were on display, many of which had a sold sticker.
When she’d first learned how much Dawn’s paintings went for, she
almost had a heart attack, especially since a large original
painting hung in her home. Dawn had given it to her as a present,
“for being a good pet”, she had said.

She stopped by one of the paintings, a
gorgeous night scenery on the water looking toward the shore.
Fireworks burst over trees, lighting up part of the dark sky. A
small boat with several people on it faced the shore, watching the
display. The vivid painting drew her in, enveloping her into its
world.

The constant murmur of the crowd faded away.
Her existence narrowed to the lapping of the water, the occasional
bang of a firework, the wind blowing across the waves and a faint
yelling.

Time passed, slipping by unaware.

Dawn materialized at her side, startling her.
Her heart jumped, her sole reaction to the unexpected appearance.
What was wrong with her? She’d zoned out on a painting, forgot her
surroundings and her duty to Dawn.

“Sorry.” Dawn said. “My paintings can have
that effect on people. It draws them in, something to do with
psychic imprinting. On rare occasions, someone gets caught, unable
to break free. But that hasn’t happened in decades.”

With a careless smile and an airy wave of her
hand, she dismissed the concern. Dawn tucked her arm into Julia’s,
resting her head on Julia’s bicep.

“This painting is just stunning. I heard
yelling. Faint, almost impossible to notice, but there.”

Psychic imprinting? New to her. Maybe Keeper
had some information. She detected no magic on the painting itself,
the canvas or the oils. How strange. It didn’t happen with the one
at home.

That odd, dreamy look (the one that disturbed
Julia back at the house) showed on Dawn’s face again as she tilted
her head upwards.

An absentminded smile as she softly said,
“People tend to ignore the darker side. They see the pretty surface
and ignore what doesn’t fit. Take this painting, for example. When
you first look at it, you see serene water, a boat watching the
fireworks and you think ‘Oh, that’s pretty.’ What most overlook is
the drowning person. It’s assumed the person is swimming, but that
makes no sense. It’s nighttime and their arms are up in the air,
waving for help as they shout for someone to save them. No one is
paying attention though. No one is trying to save them.”

Julia suspected they no longer talked about
the painting. Why would Dawn need saving? A powerful vampire in her
own right, she survived countless attacks from humans, vampires and
werewolves. Hard to imagine her vulnerable, susceptible to
another’s whims.

That, in itself, worried Julia.

Seeds planted in her mind, a plan grew, one
to help Dawn while keeping her promise to stay uninvolved.