Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic (9 page)

I didn’t think Drake had access to any of those seer powers yet. But man, sometimes he moved like he did.

The air whooshed out of Kandy’s lungs.

“Ha, wolf,” Drake said. “I heard you moving. You must learn more stealth.”

Bad thing to say to a werewolf. And, judging by his grin, completely intentional on Drake’s part.

Kandy snarled and rolled forward to crouch on the balls of her feet. Silent and deadly … just not to the fledgling guardian.

“There’s no point, Kandy,” I said. “You can’t get the upper hand when he’s in the zone. Try next time he’s eating.”

Completely ignoring me, the werewolf launched herself at the fledgling. They flew backward onto the grass beyond the wall, moving, swiping, and kicking in a blur.

Kett pulled up in a luxury silver SUV. Mercedes, maybe. I wasn’t big on cars, but I could identify an OPI nail polish color in a single glance.

“Be careful with the werewolf,” I yelled over my shoulder at Drake. Kandy would be pissed at me for cautioning Drake, but werewolves weren’t immortal — unlike the fledgling guardian’s regular wrestling partners. I wandered over to the passenger side of the SUV and climbed in beside Kett. “What took you so long?”

“He wards his garage. Then I had to choose one,” the vampire replied mildly. His gaze was on the blurred tussle on the lawn.

“I don’t like just leaving,” I said. “Stealing an SUV isn’t enough.”

“I have taken the vehicle because it will be fortified against magic, and will have a better chance of getting us to London without breaking down,” Kett replied.

Oh, okay. I was clearly the only one of us still lusting for Blackwell’s blood. The fact that the other person in this conversation was a blood-lusting vampire didn’t reflect well on my mindset.

“You will have many years to return,” Kett continued, turning to regard me in the darkness of the SUV. “You will never need to regret time, alchemist.”

“That’s verging on philosophical for you.”

“Not at all. It is merely a statement of fact.”

“Fine. Blackwell can wait. Sienna … or specifically, Mory can’t … if …”

“The fledgling necromancer is alive. She wears your necklace. You have now forced me to repeat myself.”

“Well, it’s bound to happen once every hundred years or so,” I snarked. Kett didn’t laugh but that wasn’t unusual. “Still, Sienna might have found a way —”

“Eventually, yes. But your sister is busy. Hiding from the witches and the shapeshifters is no easy task. She is lucky that the Adept are so secretive. I imagine no one has even thought to inform the sorcerers of London to be on watch.”

The SUV dipped as Drake climbed into the back seat behind Kett. “I like the wolf,” he declared.

Kandy climbed into the back seat beside Drake, behind me. Her eyes were still blazing with the green of her shifter magic.

“Of course, you do,” I replied to Drake. “She wishes she was thirteen too.” The fledgling and werewolf were covered in mud and had mats of grass in their hair. I was rather gleeful about what this mess would do to the interior of Blackwell’s pristine vehicle.

“I hated being thirteen,” Kandy said, and then didn’t bother to explain further. The werewolf had retrieved a bag from somewhere and was digging through it for a change of clothes. “We’re going to need some food.”

Kett scoffed and put the SUV into gear.

“I’m surprised you’re coming with us, vampire,” Kandy continued. “The castle seemed like your idea of Disneyland.”

Kett didn’t bother answering as he turned the vehicle toward the main road.

“I’ve been to Disneyland,” Drake declared. “It wasn’t all that.”

“You have not been to Disneyland,” Kandy said.

“Haoxin took me, last year. Right after she ascended. That way, Suanmi would have a more difficult time punishing her.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Haoxin was the cute-as-a-button-swathed-in-silk guardian of North America. She was also the guardian nearest to Drake in age, if a hundred-year spread counted as near.

“Listen, wolf,” Drake said, channeling the tone of the far seer, “and you will hear many —”

Kandy punched Drake in the gut, then groaned while shaking out her hand. Drake started giggling.

I tuned them out.

The dashboard clock declared the time to be 2:23. It was pitch dark, and I wondered if the no-driving-at-night-with-the-interior-lights-on applied to vampires. Or if that was just for the oncoming traffic. Either way, I was glad for any feeble excuse to not read Blackwell’s
Book of Demon History
book. Though not as glad as for whatever cellphone package the witch, Amber, had prepaid on my new phone. I had signal. So I made some calls. Mom and Gran first. They’d want an update, and someone needed to know we were heading into London.

∞

Traveling with Drake in an SUV was difficult. I figured out pretty quickly that the thirteen-year-old was unaccustomed to being confined and motionless for long periods of time.

Even with Kett speeding like a demon between towns, we weren’t going to get to London very quickly. The vampire didn’t seem to have an issue with driving on the left side of the road. ‘Speeding like a demon …’ Where did that phrase even come from? Were demons particularly speedy? And what human would survive an encounter with one and live to coin the phrase?

Food, and more wrestling sessions with Kandy at each gas station we stopped at finally lulled Drake to sleep. He wanted to spar with me, but I was fairly certain that swords would attract way too much attention. Getting a too-large, bright green hoodie onto Drake the first time we stopped was enough of a battle that I worried the station attendant might start texting or tweeting about us. The hoodie covered his laced leather vest, if not the pants. I opted for a navy hoodie emblazoned with a red plaid lion rampant — that was according to Kett on the ‘rampant’ part. Drake’s hoodie had the image of a sword in place of the ‘T’ in ‘SCOTLAND’ printed across the chest, and I was fairly certain that was the only reason he eventually agreed to wear it.

The sun rose, though we were clearly driving into an overcast day, and I begrudgingly hauled out the demon history book. Kandy and Drake were snoozing in the back. Kett donned dark sunglasses despite the fact that the SUV windows were tinted.

“We have no idea if we’ve even guessed correctly,” I muttered as I read through the entry that accompanied the sketch of the sacrificial knife. Kandy and Scarlett had confirmed that the knife had been in Sienna’s hands the last time they saw it. “She could be in Bora Bora. And if Mory’s … alive … how did Sienna get her to London?”

“It’s a logical leap,” Kett answered. “She had the knife and a necromancer. Why steal the book? Out of everything in Blackwell’s collection, why steal that book unless she intended to do something with it?”

“Sienna doesn’t think things like this through ahead of time,” I said. ”Maybe she was just borrowing the book to read it, and then got her hands on the knife. Do demons even have shades or ghosts? Can Mory communicate with a being destroyed over a hundred and twenty-five years ago?”

“With the sacrificial knife to anchor the magic, and the power of a sorcerer drained … perhaps,” Kett answered.

I’d tried the phone numbers Blackwell had given us — three names in total that he deemed powerful enough to fulfill Sienna’s requirements — but hadn’t gotten answers or voice mails. Of course, it was rather early in the morning.

“So, the summoning,” I said, referencing the book. “According to this story —”

“Chronicle.”

“Fine, chronicle. The summoning took place in the White Chapel district.”

“Similar timing to when the Jack the Ripper killers hunted there — perfect cover for the sorcerer.”

“Blackwell’s ancestor. Evil runs in the family.”

Kett didn’t respond. His definition of evil was far different from mine. In fact, I wasn’t sure he bothered to define such things anymore.

“Jesus, the stupid sorcerer who wrote this included the incantation.”

“Even if he uncovered an accurate accounting the exact words have little meaning.”

“Still. It’s a focal point.”

Kett shrugged. Yeah, it definitely irked me that immortal beings rarely seemed concerned when it came to magic.

“Killers?” I asked, backtracking to his previous comment. “Why say killers?”

“At least three of the murders were a rogue vampire who took glee in not hiding his kills. It was reckless and undignified.”

“Reckless because it drew your attention?”

Kett smiled but didn’t answer. I knew he was referred to as ‘the executioner’. I knew he investigated — or, rather, judged — vampire crimes, which were pretty much limited to the don’t-be-messy-with-food classification. What I didn’t know was how old Kett was and how long he’d been the executioner for the Conclave — the governing body of the vampires. He was cagey about his age like some guys were about how many people they’d slept with, as if the number was so large it might scare off any serious relationship potential. For the human male, not the vampire. I had no idea why the vampire shared what and when he did.

“How many people did Jack the Ripper kill?” I asked.

“Eleven if you count them all. Five are usually agreed upon.”

“But three were vampire kills?”

“Yes.”

“And at least one …” — I referenced the book that sat open on my lap — “… on November 9, 1888, was the sorcerer’s doing.”

“According to a book written by sorcerers.”

“Right.”

“There was also the human the authorities referred to as the Torso Killer, who was active at the same time as the Ripper.”

“Oh my God, stop talking. I don’t need to know.”

Kett laughed, a sound that was becoming a more regular occurrence for the vampire. Maybe I was humanizing him … and maybe that thought was a slippery slope.

“November 9th,” I said. “What day is today?”

“The morning of the eighth.”

“Would the connection — if any of this is actually possible — be stronger on the anniversary?”

Kett shrugged, but even before he did so, I knew I was asking the wrong questions. “Whether or not this can be done doesn’t matter.”

“No.”

Because all that mattered was what Sienna wanted to attempt and what she would do to make her desires come true. It was a game. An accumulation of power, but to no end. Just for fun. Sienna wasn’t in it for the long term. She never had been.

“She expects to be caught.”

“Of course,” Kett answered, never taking his eyes off the highway in front of us. As the morning dawned and we had neared the border of England, the traffic had increased. Kett was only able to speed like a half-demon now, which was ironic for multiple reasons I didn’t have the brainpower to address at the moment. Such as, supposedly vampires had been created from demons, “by God,” according to Kett. Yeah, I was still full-on ignoring that tidbit.

“Why do it then? Why do any of it?”

“To see what she can do.” Kett’s cool but matter-of-fact statement actually made me shiver.

“What she can destroy.”

“Or who.” Kett turned and looked at me then. I couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses.

“She loves … loved me,” I whispered. The words sounded weak and hollow coming from my mouth.

“Perhaps,” Kett said. He returned his attention to driving.

I felt like crying, but I forced the feeling into the dark place in my heart where I stored all things Sienna now. I couldn’t even remember the sound of her laugh, or the secrets we’d whispered to each other, or the life we’d shared. It was all mixed into the remembrance of the gritty, sour taste of her corrupted magic, and the black veins that etched her face.

I took comfort in the taste of the magic of the trio that surrounded me, closed the book and my eyes, and tried to sleep.

∞

I’d never been to London, England. Actually, I’d never been out of North America. As we hit the traffic of the city, the crazily narrow streets, and the confusing street signs, I instantly wished I was home, cupcake in hand and trinket in the making.

London was insanely large. True, the biggest city I’d ever been to was Los Angeles, and that sprawled for miles. But London was huge and full — full of people, buildings, overpasses and round-abouts, and shops. Lots of shops.

This … this was utter chaos. In a human way though, not in a blood and magical mayhem way. That was entirely different, and actually — sickeningly — not as overwhelming as it once had been.

Drake, of course, was unimpressed. It was his second visit after all.

I’d pulled out the iPad and hot-spotted it to my phone at Kett’s request. Google Maps guided us effortlessly — avoiding one-way streets but not the bumper-to-bumper — into the heart of London.

At least that’s what it looked like on the map. I actually had no idea where we were.

“Was that … was that London Bridge?” I asked.

“We’re looking for Waterloo,” Kett answered.

“What? No. I mean, I didn’t know it was an actual thing … you … know …” I shut my mouth and pointed the way to Waterloo Bridge.

We crossed the bridge and miraculously didn’t get caught endlessly in the traffic circle on the other side. I was seriously glad that Kett was driving.

Without further direction from me, the vampire made a left and then two right turns. He slowed the SUV as we came up to a grand building, stone-tiled in cream. It ran the length — and, I assumed, width — of the city block, and was constructed with columns and everything.

“Um, the sorcerer we’re looking for lives in a palace?” I asked.

“It’s a university. A college actually,” Kett answered. “Blackwell was unsure of where his colleague resides, but you should be able to find him before class.”

“The great and powerful sorcerer we have to protect from Sienna is a student?”

“A professor in biomedical sciences.”

Okay, I was aware that I was only sounding more and more stupid every time I opened my mouth, but I was baffled by the idea of a sorcerer also being a professor. Call me prejudiced, I guess. I stared at Kett.
 

He raised a pale eyebrow at me. “Forensic analytical sciences,” he elaborated. “He and I have met previously. It’s best if you go on alone.”