The Compass (4 page)

You don’t sound very contrite. In any case, since you promised to leave—my name is Ali, Ali Hayes.

An echo of a lock being turned echoed in his mind, the barricade keeping her from leaving began to collapse. The woman’s energy began to fade into whispers. Yet, the warmth stayed with him as did a scent—her scent, a mixture of jasmine and vanilla, imprinted on his mind. It was so heady that Finn knew he would never forget it, and he would always find her.
I will find you Ali Hayes.

Just before the connection fully closed, he felt her weary sadness, as well as a touch of humor.
No you won’t. You’re just an illusion, a bossy and sexy sounding one, but one nonetheless. Goodbye.

The connection closed and Finn opened his eyes. From the grins on the faces of his comrades, Finn knew they had heard what the woman—what Ali had said.

“A sexy illusion is it?” Drake waggled his eyebrows at Finn, enjoying the discomfort it caused. “Can’t wait to find Miss Hayes, she sounds—intriguing.”

Finn rolled his head, felt his neck crack. On the table, his hands curled into fists. It was Drake’s way, he knew, to get under one’s skin. And normally, he wouldn’t be bothered by it, but this time, with Ali, it was different. Though the pathway to her had been fragile, he knew he would be able to find her. The same possessiveness he had felt at their first encounter had him growling. “You will stay clear of her Drake.” The big warrior merely smiled and walked away. Exhausted, Finn dropped his head down onto the table. His cousin dropped down into a chair beside him.

“We have her name, but it will be hard in a city this size to find her.”

Cian was right, however, Finn knew better. Lifting his head, he reassured his cousin. “I will find her. No matter where she is, where she goes. I will find her.”

Chapter Four

The man cast a long shadow in the fading rays of the day as he approached the group of ruffians loitering at the back door of the club. His walking staff mutedly tapping along the stained pavement; a motley crew at best, the men were loud, rude, and drunk. They were the perfect assortment of able bodies he needed. He continued to walk towards them, stopping when one finally took notice—so pathetic. But, one worked with what one had at their disposal. Ever since his departure from his realm, his choices at times had been mediocre at best as he crisscrossed the vastness of earth.

This one however,
did
have potential. His dress of jeans, ratty leather jacket and scuffed boots, suggested that he lived a life of opportunity—and since the place looked to be a gang hangout, this man was used to running with a pack. Perfect. As for himself, he was well dressed, and well groomed; a man who used a cane, easy pickings. The illusion was exactly what he wanted them to see. “Good evening gentleman. I was hoping to gain some assistance.” His voice was smooth and cultured, and clearly made no impression on the group.

Drunken snickers made the rounds. The one who had separated himself from the group spoke. His voice, fueled by alcohol, rang with authority.

“You’re a long way from 5
th
avenue my man,” he sneered. He took a few steps forward. “Nice suit. I bet you have a nice fat wallet too.”

More snickers sounded, pumping the man up. The stench of sour body odor, mixed with the cloud of alcohol wafting from his mouth, should have offended, however, the stranger merely smiled. “I assure you, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. My name is Mikel, and since you have proclaimed yourself as the person in charge of this band of misfits, I shall put my request to you—a deal of sorts.”

The man threw back his head and let out a whoop of hilarity. “Listen to him boys—Mr. Suit wants to make a deal.” Coming closer, the man smoothed a hand over his bald, tattooed head. “I’m the one who makes deals. You’re on my turf, not some highfalutin’ garden party.” Buoyed by the grunts and shouts of agreement from his friends, he continued. “Now, I will ‘assist’
you
, with your wallet. And if you do it nicely, I’ll let you walk away with all your bodily functions in good working order,” He smirked. “‘Cause I’m nice like that.”

Mikel smiled. Oh yes, this one will do nicely. Tilting his head to the side, he asked for the man’s identity. “Before we continue, may I have your name?”

The man twisted his head back to holler at his friends. “Can you believe this guy?” Turning back, the man shrugged. “Yeah, sure, I’ll give you my name. They call me Rocco. Now, give me your wallet.”

Bowing his head and chucking softly, Mikel murmured an incantation while his hands, rested on top of his staff. Lifting his head, he captured, and then held Rocco in his dark gaze. “Your nature demands that you act violently to save face with your comrades.” Raising a hand, Mikel closed it into a fist; the movement had Rocco choking, as an invisible hand mimicked its physical counterpart, squeezing his throat, cutting off his shocked gasp. When a couple of overzealous onlookers tried to interfere, Mikel sent them flying back with a thrust of the staff. “As I mentioned, I’m in need of some assistance. It has been some time since I have occupied this city and much has changed. I require new lodging, preferably somewhere hidden.” Rocco’s face was quickly turning color; however, he managed to squeak out a sound of compliance. Mikel loosened his hold on him enough for a stammering reply to escape.

“Th-there’s a warehouse, totally off the grid.”

Pleased, Mikel released him, and while Rocco coughed and spit, he issued his expectations. “A war is coming. You mortals are nothing more than walking casualties for those with power,” his eyes scanned the now silent group of five. “I am not a merciful lord; I will smite those who cross me. I offer you the chance to choose your side—
my
side. I am the darkness, and it will smother the light here and through-out the realms.” As though in a trance, Rocco and the rest dropped to their knees, their heads bowed in acceptance. Immensely satisfied, Mikel gave his first order. “Rise,” his voice rang out. “Rise, and accept a gift from your master.”

One by one, the men came to stand before him. Taking his staff, Mikel touched each man on the chest. Dark energy poured out and penetrated their flesh, filling their mortal shells with pure darkness. As their systems absorbed the tainted energy, their eyes showed the change by turning black. Once the transformations were complete, Mikel extended his arms in welcome. “You are warriors for the Darkness. There is something here on earth that I require. But it is not so easily gained. There are those who stand in my way. To ensure my victory, I will need to raise an army.”

The men shouted their loyalty, their bodies vibrating from the power that now surged within their systems. Rocco stepped away from the group; he took to one knee as he asked his question. “What is our first order?”

Staring down at the bowed head, Mikel murmured his approval. “This warehouse you spoke of, it will need to be outfitted for my needs. My requirements are already known to you. Do not fail me—for you are effortlessly replaceable. I also require more recruits. My man James, and his son, will aid you with this. I need the strong, the wicked, and the demented—find me my army.”

Gaining his feet, Rocco drew in a deep breath, his chest expanded. “It will be done.”

The conviction Mikel heard in his voice please him greatly. As did the determination he saw in his eyes. “Your enthusiasm pleases me. Now, go.” Watching them leave, Mikel mused how easy it had been. He always knew he would return to New York. The city was a melting pot of all manner of creatures. Of course, it wasn’t the only place for the supernatural; it was just the most interesting. How auspicious for him that a Fragment was also here. His sensed a familiar energy. From the shadows of the alley, another man emerged. “What do you think Lugus? Certainly not ideal, however, the population of this city will provide us with ample puppets for the warriors.” A snort of disbelief was the answer he received. Chuckling, Mikel turned to face his second in command. “Oh come now Lugus, surely even you can see the irony.”

Lugus saw no advantage in using mortals as militia, his answer was clipped. “Agrona’s warriors will go through them swiftly.”

Nodding and murmuring his agreement, Mikel assured him with a nonchalant shrug. “They are but the beginning Lugus. I have this whole realm at my disposal—this city, whilst impressive, is just a small pond. Agrona’s army consists of embattled warriors too consumed with their own demons. Their blind devotion for a woman who has sent them on a pointless task will be their undoing. We have managed to keep them busy, and all the while, my plan has been forming.”

Mulling over the words, Lugus pondered them. When he spoke, doubt laced his words. “We’ve been in this realm a long time. Our world has been all but destroyed by your epic battles with the war goddess and her followers. Our people have sought refuge in other realms. The warriors may be embattled, but they will not rest until they’ve fulfilled their oath and restore the balance.”

Mikel began to walk, Lugus fell in step. “All that is true, and though I would have enjoyed remaining in our realm as ruler, the vast pool of energy that earth has to offer was hard to ignore. These foolish mortals have no idea. They muddle with things such as Ouija boards, and séances. They throw themselves into ancient rituals like the Shamhian, and the solstices, with carless abandon. Gods are still worshiped, offerings are given. Some mortals are even bestowed great gifts by these same Gods. And they live out their pitiful lives without even knowing. Museums house great relics of power that have been shrouded in layers of folklore; a folly that I myself had fallen victim to before uncovering the truth.”  Coming to a stop, Mikel gazed out over the bustling sidewalks.

Lugus came to stand beside him, not seeing what his lord saw. He knew of what he spoke of though. The vessel of the ancients had been their people’s greatest myths. Stories of its creation, and the magick forged within it, had had many searching for it—never knowing that the ancients had devised legends in order to safeguard it. Yet, Lugus couldn’t help but wonder why they were here, in
this
particular city. “But why choose to come back here—to this city?” Lugus made sure to keep his tone and the question light lest he incur Mikel’s wrath.

The query amused Mikel. “Throughout earth’s history, this metropolis has beckoned to the desperate, the dreamers, the drifters and the opportunists. It has a way of weeding out the weak.” He once again began walking. “The mortals have a saying: if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. Those who survive it, are the strong, the determined; and they step on those too scared to take what they want. It’s a well oiled system. Somewhere, in-between the two classes are those who believe in the unbelievable. They hide amongst the shadows this city casts; their oddity is their camouflage. They have secret clubs and meet under the cover of night. New York, at its very core, is tolerant.”  Pausing, Mikel took a moment to scan the streets of the city; he took in the sounds, the vibe. “This city conceals more than these mortals can fathom. A Fragment is here, Lugus, and thanks to my little insurance policy, it is waking up.”

Lugus watched the mortals with distain. With daylight fading, they resembled insects scurrying to find places to hide. He hated being here amongst these filthy beings. It did not matter that they were under protection of various gods and goddesses, Agrona herself being one of them. They were fodder, nothing more. There had been a time he didn’t always feel this way. He once held the same beliefs; that mortals needed protection. However, tragedy changed even the most faithful of beings, shaking the foundation of the very thing that was your centre. The Light that you defended so fiercely, dimmed, and you began to question why you believed it in at all. “How do we find them?”

“Agrona has managed to weave an intricate spell, but it is waning.” Waving a hand, Mikel faded all but the female mortals from sight. “She chose to hide the Fragments within women. In our world, the fairer sex is regarded as our equal, in some cases, our superior. Yet here on earth, they are seen as weak. However, they cannot be treated as such. Agrona was counting on this. As her former teacher, I must give a nod to her—imagination. Severing the Star and having the fragments reincarnated as mortals took immense talent. But, fear not, there was a reason why she was merely my student, and never my equal.”  He gave another wave, and the scenery returned to normal. “Time will also become our enemy. The Autumn Equinox, when day and night are nearly equal in length, will be celebrated. I must have all of the Fragments in order to push back the light. Agrona has placed blind faith in her warriors, in these women.”

Lugus gave one of his rare smiles. It was filled with twisted glee. “And how does the fierce leader fare?”

Showing his own humor, Mikel enlightened Lugus. “She slumbers in between worlds. I have given her enough awareness so that she will know when her warriors are defeated one by one. She will know when I reach in and extract the souls of the ones who hide the Fragments.” The wind rose up in reaction to his words. “The mortals she so feverishly defended will be the very thing that destroys her.”

But Lugus had only one more concern. It was the one thing that consumed his every breath, the one thing that kept him subservient to Mikel, “And what of my revenge?”

Turning his black eyes on Lugus, Mikel reassured him with great confidence. “Your thirst for revenge will be quenched Lugus. You will have all that I have promised you.” Shifting, Mikel gazed back at the direction Rocco and his rabble had gone. “In the meantime, follow our new recruits. I have a feeling they will be tempted to play with the gifts I have given them before fulfilling my request.” Turning back, he let his mouth curve in a smile. “Let them have their fun, I want them to taste the essence of the darkness, to feel the power only I can provide them with.”

Lugus bowed his head and shimmered out of sight. Mikel’s eyes stayed on the spot where his commander disappeared, appreciating the finesse in which he had departed. Not many had such a subtle touch. Many preferred to make a scene, to flex their muscles. It added a level to Lugus’ already impressive arsenal—stealth.

It was time to get things in order. Lugus had been right; Agrona’s warriors would eat through his mortal puppets quickly, just as they had always done. While replacing them wouldn’t be a problem, he couldn’t afford to have his attention divided; it would require too much energy. Energy he couldn’t afford to spend. His powers—his magick, had been altered when he had first sifted through the veil; another twist in his former student’s cleverly woven spell. While he was far from being helpless, he did have to be careful. As it was, providing this wave of puppets with dark energy had drained him.

Over the years that followed his entrance into earth’s realm, he had been able to undo some of what Agrona had done, allowing him to take the energy he needed from the smallest of sources. His former student had been so very careful. She knew just where to place each obstacle, and each one took more energy to overcome. He had marvelled at the level of talent it took to create each snare. She knew where his weaknesses were. Of course, she knew these things because of her lineage; she was after all a daughter of two of the original guardians. The central part of her spell was time. Layer upon layer of fairytales and folklore had given her that time. She had made it so that the ones who housed the Fragments had a chance to grow and gain strength, thwarting his original plan to take them when they were children. So, he had been forced to wait.