Neon Spark (Dark Magic Enforcer Book 5) (23 page)

I think that freaked him out more than anything else, the fact I was crying tears of madness and chuckling away like I'd lost the plot entirely.

Not knowing what else to do, and definitely knowing he was about to be stomped, Dancer nonetheless stood in its path, and readied himself to do what he could. But he'd used up all the corpses, wasn't the blasting type, and besides, he was as exhausted and drained of magic as I was. We were both running on empty, as Regular as you could be give or take a hint to keep us just that little bit Hidden, but he faced it down anyway.

It just ran straight on through us, not touching us at all, the merest hint of a breeze all that signified its passing. By the time it got to the fallen doorway it was a ghost, then gone.

"It was just a whisper of what Kimiko had called," I said. "She'd summoned it to her bidding, but with her gone it's just a memory of a thing, not really here. It's back where it belongs, free of her bond. It was going after her, not us, but she's gone, too. Everything's gone."

"Um, good." Dancer sat beside me and we listened to the cicadas. It was actually quite a pleasant evening.

Airport

I practically crawled from the cab and through the stupid revolving doors at the terminal of the annoyingly busy airport. If it wasn't for Dancer, I would have definitely been on my hands and knees. My arms were hanging limp, so tired and painful they were next to useless. Every part of me hurt. I'd never been beaten like this in my entire life and I've been beaten a lot. More than enough.

If I wasn't so unmemorable, and using the last ounces of magic I could muster, draining dangerously so I found it hard to stay upright even with his help, let alone speak or hand over my ticket, there was no way the staff would have let either of us on the plane. He didn't look much better than me, but then, he always looks like that.

Somehow, we got through not only customs and the endless maze of the duty-free zone where my nostrils were bombarded with a thousand perfumes and the promise of cheap, oversized chocolates in fancy packaging, and made it to the boarding gate.

We must have fallen asleep, or unconscious at any rate, and the next thing I knew I awoke to hear the final call for our flight and the last of the passengers giving their tickets to smiling boarding staff before disappearing into a tunnel.

I tapped Dancer on the shoulder, then shoved him repeatedly until he woke up. Groaning, I pushed with aching hands and got out of my seat. We tried to act like Regulars, and gave the smartly dressed female attendants our best smiles as we handed over the tickets, but I don't think they were impressed as they smiled nervously with concern but let us through. We were already forgotten, and good job, too.

The walk to the plane was pure agony, every step reverberating through my body like a jackhammer, setting my nerves and broken body on fire. I was drenched in sweat by the time we made it, and luckily we were of no concern to the staff as they were keen for takeoff.

Thankfully, our seats were business class. No way could I have made it if I'd had to scramble down a narrow aisle and squeeze between passengers. Sinking into my seat with a groan and a sigh, I made a promise to myself. Several, in fact.

No more magic use, no more enforcer jobs, no more revenge, and no more leaving home. Japan was a nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there. It had almost broken me, and was sending me home a different man.

My revenge was absolute, so was my decision.

Black Spark was retired.

From now on I was staying away from magic for good. This addict was going cold turkey.

The End

The next in the series is
Hidden Spark
.

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