The Gift of Fury Read online

  I do a lot of things well but dancing isn’t one of them. I’m good enough not to embarrass myself on most nights. Sometimes having a good partner can make you seem ten times worse or a hundred times better. With Nerva, it’s the latter. I follow her lead and the beat of the music. She’s having fun, Kara isn’t. After the third song, I feign tiredness and Nerva lets me get away with it.

  I buy her a drink and start to fill her in on the details now that she is ready to listen. The news catches her by surprise, not the part about someone breaking into Scott’s apartment. By now, most of the major movers and shakers in the city should have heard about that. It’s the part about Hagan and the ring that blindsides her. I’m about to start rattling off more details that don’t interest her when she holds up a hand to silence me.

  “He can see you the day after tomorrow around 4 pm. I’ll make the arrangements,” she says.

  I smile, gratefully. I don’t have to say the next few words but I say them anyway. “Thanks, I owe you one.”

  The way she licks her lips makes me wonder how she plans on collecting.

  ***

  I spend the next hour watching Nerva dance while I start to sober up. It feels like I’m making progress. I decide to leave before last call is announced. I want to get in some practice time at the dojo so that means I can’t afford to stay out much later.

  Outside, I nod to the bouncers then turn the corner. It’s a nice night for a walk and my apartment isn’t far. The exercise will do me some good. I am two blocks away from my building when it happens. Even though, it’s late there are plenty of people on the street. Like me, most of them are returning from a busy night on town. Unlike me, they only see two men step out of the coffee shop and walk in my direction.

  One is tall and handsome with strong Germanic features. He could have been a model or a movie star with his good looks. His dark grey suit is tailored. The outfit would have put me back in debt. It was probably pocket change for him. I had never met the man before but I knew who he was. He made me feel uneasy, like I should know him from someplace other than television. His name is Meredith, Jack Meredith a high wheeling and dealing real estate developer who has been making waves recently. The same Jack Meredith I saw on the news earlier tonight.

  To everyone else, the man next to him looked like a mook from a gangster film. To me, the grey-skinned humanoid crammed into a less than stylish suit looked like trouble. This had to be the ogre Hagan was talking about. It wasn’t the largest I had ever seen but big enough to be a problem if I had to fight him. At least, he wasn’t armed and from the way he moved, Hagan had put a hurting on him.

  This can’t be a coincidence or anything good. Kara gives me some more bad news as I take a closer look at Meredith.

  “Careful, he’s a sorcerer.”

  Meredith looks and moves like a man half his age, far younger than he appears on television but still recognizable. It’s obvious he takes good care of himself. It could be a product of magic but I doubt it. He moves like a fighter, someone who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. The smile he favors me with is an empty thing lacking in warmth and friendship but it’s his eyes that worry me. I’m not a person; I’m an obstacle that is in his way.

  “So you’re the one who got away,” He says more to himself than me.

  I’m confused and I’m not the only one. Kara is also wondering about that remark. One of my teachers once told me no question is stupid, but this one sure does sound the part. “Have we met?”

  Meredith’s laughter stings me. “This is rich. You’ve come full circle and don’t even realize it.”

  The answer doesn’t help clear things up. I’m at a disadvantage here and operating in the dark. “So what does the ‘great’ Jack Meredith want with me?”

  “You have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

  I’m about to make a smart comment about stereotypes and clichés when his next words slam into me.

  “Albritton, you will give me the Bloodstone,” He says it like I have no choice in the matter. I risk a glance at the ogre who seems more than ready and willing to break me in two but he makes no move towards me.

  Kara murmurs “He’s good. I didn’t even know he was using magic until the spell touched you.”

  If he just tried to use magic on me then it means he doesn’t know as much about me as he thinks. When I don’t respond to his words, Meredith’s smile falters. I can almost smell the wood burning between his ears as he starts running down all the possible reasons why his spell might have failed. Even when you do everything right, spells like anything else can fail especially now. Magic isn’t as powerful as it used to be.

  It’s another thing the books, movies and television get half right. Scott told me a while back magic, like science, follows certain laws. All spells and magical powers take energy. You can find this energy in people, places and things to varying degrees. Most supernatural and magical beings draw this energy from within themselves to do magic while others are tied to a place or an object. Sorcerers don’t have it that easy. They have to harness this energy using complex spells or rituals to work their magic. Sometimes the person or thing they draw the energy from is destroyed in the process. That’s what a sacrifice is. Death and destruction can liberate all the magical potential in someone or something. Thankfully, human sacrifice isn’t practiced like it was in past.

  When you draw energy, you can draw attention. Anyone able to use magic might be able to sense someone tapping into an energy source if they are close enough. This is especially true if they are sharing a power source such as a ley line, item of power or whatever. This can be enough warning to defend his or herself, maybe even enough time to counter whatever is being done.

  Another rule or law is that all spell casting also takes time and effort. You can’t just snap your fingers and make magic. Sometimes it’s quicker and easier to use more mundane methods than to use a spell. This is also why most magic is very subtle. There is no room for wasting energy on special effects. When magic has a visible or dramatic effect, it takes far greater energy, time and effort time than a more subtle spell. For example, the energy used to shoot a jet of flame from your fingertips is far greater than just causing a target to spontaneously combust. The results are the same but in the first case you use a lot of energy producing the flame. Maybe in the old days, flashy magic was the norm. These days magic works almost invisibly.

  Meredith’s expression hardens as he looks at me. I don’t need Kara to tell me what happened, he tried another spell to find out why his command didn’t work. It failed just like the first spell did. His mouth opens and then closes; I can tell he wants to ask me how I’m doing this. It’s the same reason why the ogre’s illusion doesn’t fool me. Most magic targeting me is redirected elsewhere. Only the most powerful spells and magical abilities can touch me. It’s a very good trick for someone to have in my line of work.

  Kara knows what I am going to do next. It’s one of my guilty pleasures. Whenever I have the chance to poke fun at someone who is giving me a hard time, I take it. I admit it’s a little petty of me. It is useful for keeping people off balance. This is one of those occasions.

  “This is a very public place for a mugging and that’s the only way you’ll get anything out of me. And don’t think the ogre in the monkey suit will help you. He’ll screw up again like he did at Dorward’s place.”

  It’s a risk letting him know the ogre’s masking spell isn’t working on me but it has the desired effect. Meredith doesn’t bother to hide his surprise. I want him thinking about what else I might be able to do. On the other hand, the ogre takes an angry step forward, one of his large hands reaching out to maim me when Meredith says “G’rstaka, no.”

  The ogre obeys reluctantly. It proves beyond a shadow of a doubt Meredith is the one in charge here. As I watch the two of them, Kara remains silent. She doesn’t want to distract me unless there is something important to tell me. I’m still in a bad position here. Neither one of these t
wo mean me any good.

  Finally, Meredith speaks. His smile is the same one he uses when speaking in front of the masses. It’s too late for that. I’m not going to be fooled by it or his words. Not only is he a sorcerer, I can tell he follows a far darker path than Scott’s or Sol’s. You just don’t walk up to someone on the street and do this sort of thing.

  “You have a rare talent, Count Albritton.”

  Damn right, it’s rare. According to Sol, I’m the only person he knows of with this sort of power and he knows a lot of people. Too bad I can’t control it. It works against all magic spells and abilities, baneful as well as beneficial. I decide to favor him with a smile of my own and a nod.

  “You’ve come farther than I ever imagined but that does not change anything. You have something I want.”

  “Yeah well in a perfect world we would all get what we deserve. Maybe, you’ll get what’s coming to you,” The ogre reacts more to my veiled threat than Meredith so I push a little harder. “You must not be too bright to send an ogre to rob someone.”

  “Gr’staka wasn’t there to steal the ring.”

  My eyes narrow slightly. Meredith sounds amused. It’s obvious he knows something I do not. There is no way I am going to get any straight answers out of him. This is all a game to him, one where he has all the cards. Why is he wasting time? The ogre should be all over me.

  Kara says via our link “The ring draws magical energy and stores it. Meredith was able somehow able to activate it.”

  “How do you know that?” I ask not bothering to internalize the question. Inadvertently, my words manage to confuse Meredith and G’rstaka again.

  “He is feeding more energy into the Bloodstone as we speak.”

  Kara is leaving something out but I can’t worry about it right now. From experience, I know the Bloodstone can store magical energy. What happens when it reaches its maximum capacity or exceeds it? Something bad happens to most objects that store energy when you overcharge them. That explains why Scott was messing with the ring. It also explains why Meredith sent the ogre to do his dirty work. A flash of anger leaps across the link as Kara sees my line of reasoning.

  It’s a win-win situation for Meredith. Best case scenario, the ogre gets the ring. Even if the ogre doesn’t get the ring, he throws a monkey wrench into the works since Scott would have to deal with the NYPD and a mountain of paperwork. He wouldn’t be able to stop Meredith from using the Bloodstone especially if the ring was in police custody.

  His laughter mocks me and I realize I’m the one playing the part of the fool. While I stood here and baited him, he was using the time to mess with the ring. I don’t know what he hopes to accomplish but the fact he only needs to be close to Bloodstone to manipulate it worries me. Then it hits me, the picture of Scott on the news earlier tonight. Meredith was there at the charity ball. That picture was taken weeks ago.

  “Meredith, stop whatever it is you’re doing.”

  “You cannot beat me. The Seven have seen to that.”

  I don’t like the sound of that, not one bit. I like Meredith’s triumphant smile even less. I disobey my rule about violence and last resorts. I attack Meredith. My fist forever alters his smile. I’m sure Meredith will look just as good with a gold or false tooth to replace the one I knock out. Me, I have another problem.

  Ogres are very good at hurting people. G’rstaka doesn’t waste a second; he leaps at the chance to tear me into bloody chunks. He comes in hard and fast using his size and weight. Hagan would have met him head on. Me, I use what’s called the “C” to step to the side and launch a counter. My hand is still hurting from punching Meredith in the face. I shouldn’t have done that, I let my temper get the better of me. It’s not the way I do things.

  I make my second mistake of the night. I am thinking about the ring and everything but the mass of muscle looking to fit me with a toe tag. Even though I duck away from the grapple attempt, I am off-balance. The kick I should have avoided with ease lands dead center on my right knee. The pain is exquisite and I am officially hosed. A clubbing overhead right catches me though it’s more luck than skill which allows me to roll with the blow as Meredith climbs to his feet. This is not good.

  Kara screams a warning in my mind. I move throwing myself down and to the side away from Meredith not trusting my gift to save me. The only words I could make out were “death” and “spell”, two words that should never be together in the same sentence. A spell like that should be impossible to cast on such short notice. The energy, effort and time required to actually kill someone with a spell is staggering yet somehow Meredith does it. For a moment, the pain in my chest surpasses that of my knee. My gift saves me but a passerby isn’t so lucky. The redirected spell catches the man. I know he is having a heart attack without even looking at him. Another casualty is the ogre. G’rstaka is gone, consumed by the spell Meredith had cast, a sacrifice.

  It takes time for me to pull myself together. Not enough time for Meredith to take the ring from me or to finish me off but long enough for him to get away. I force myself to look at the victim of his spell. Someone is trying to help him, I hope he pulls through but I can’t stay here. I stagger to my feet and limp the rest of my way home to escape the scene if not the blame for this.

  Chapter Four

  I’m not a morning person. After a late night, I can be downright irritable. After a night of drinking and a fight with an ogre, I’m dangerous to awaken. So why is my studio apartment filled with the morning light and two unexpected guests. My bloodshot eyes focus on Hagan helping himself to my stash of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. For his sake, I hope the bastard had the decency to make a cup for me as well. My other visitor has not taken such liberties. He sits in the studio’s only chair, an old dime store novel lies open in his lap. Only when he sees I am awake enough to understand him, does Scott speak in his clipped and precise British accent. It’s easy to forget I am older than him. It’s the way he carries himself that makes everyone around him feel like his junior.

  “Good morning, Count.”

  The morning light makes Scott seem paler than usual. He looks far more like a stereotypical vampire than Nerva ever will. Though his clothing is tailor made and expensive, he wears it differently than Meredith. For Scott, it’s not about showing off or wearing the latest fashions. He likes dressing in his suits and he wears them well even the ones that are out of style.

  “I don’t remember giving either of you a key to my place.”

  Hagan laughs at that. The man has no shame. “No need for a key when you have such a crappy lock.”

  I frown, sitting up in my futon. As I drawing the covers around me, I realize Kara is not here to greet me. The link connecting is quiet. I frown at that as I take stock of the situation. At least, I don’t have a hangover. My right knee is pain free but that might change when I get out of bed. The only mark on me from last night is a bruise on my chest and a cut on one knuckle of my left hand. I got off lucky considering the way I handled things.

  Scott sounds apologetic when he speaks. “Forgive me for invading your privacy but this is important.”

  His words and the situation are enough for me to forgive and forget this. I don’t invite many people here. My studio apartment, though spacious, has little in the way of furniture. It’s not that I don’t enjoy company but I like to have plenty of warning beforehand. The fact that the two of them are here, uninvited speaks volumes. Hagan is much the same way while Scott is too polite to break into someone’s home on a whim. The man considers it impolite just dropping by unannounced.

  “Tell me, you’ve come for the ring” I say.

  “I’m sorry Count but that would be a lie and I never play games with the truth.”

  Hagan hands me a cup of coffee. I take a sip. It’s just the way I like it, light and sweet. The coffee clears away some of the cobwebs but none of my confusion.

  “Scott…..”

  “Right now, you are the only one who can handle the Bloodstone.”
r />   “What?”

  He smiles as if he is giving a lecture in a college auditorium instead of sitting in my home. “If you can hold off on the one syllable questions till I am done, this will be much easier. When I learned someone had tampered with the ring, I tried to set things right. I tried and failed because of Meredith’s interference.”

  His gesture towards Hagan is almost bird-like, filled with suppressed energy. “I had the foresight to have Hagan present. He was able to keep my guests from drastically shortening my life expectancy from a good century to a pain filled hour in intensive care. Unfortunately, I was forced to spend the evening in the company of your city’s finest. I made sure Hagan got the ring to you before I was detained.”

  This time Hagan asks the question I’m thinking “Why?”

  Scott fixes him with a steady glare that causes the big man to mumble something. Scott hates interruptions. He considers them a breech of courtesy especially when he is trying to explain something. Satisfied that neither one of us are going to interrupt him again, he continues. “Your peculiar gift for resisting magic is redirecting most of the energy Meredith is sending into the ring. I daresay you are the only reason why the ring has not reached its maximum potential.”

  He waits, making sure I have plenty of time to follow him and interrupt. I almost open my mouth. A look from Scott silences me more effectively than any verbal command would. “Now, I know what you’re thinking but it won’t work. Your talents are wild and unrefined. The last time you used the ring it was more a matter of luck than skill and I do not like to take chances. A misstep could result in a rather large Boom.”

  Of course, the last time I used the ring was to save both of our lives but that is another story. The fact Scott has just validated a number of my fears does little for my piece of mind.