Blood & Magic (3 page)

There was a laugh around the room at those words, everyone knew what that meant. Inquisitors had been increasingly given government tasks as a “priority” in the last few years, that did not require the skills of an Inquisitor. But as the Department of Alternate studies gave the Inquisition its resources and political protection, they did whatever it took to keep Helena happy.

“We can no longer fight this on our own. The Department of Alternate Studies has offered to directly aid us in our mission and, as of today, they will be setting up human task forces to assist in keeping the peace. They will have full jurisdiction over the alternate kind, including the right to detain and interrogate individuals suspected of breaking either human or alternate laws.”

Meyer noticed out of the corner of Charlie's eye, that Alice had stood and was leaving the council chamber out of a side door. Where was she be going that excused her from a council meeting?

The room fell quiet, only the faint sound of Alice's footsteps breaking the silence. Around the table, representatives of both the Inquisitors and Inquisition, a distinction that desperately needed a better naming convention, began to mutter amongst themselves. What this meant was clear, full impending government control, no longer would the Inquisition police their world or act as a barrier against human policy on alternate matters.

“We will also give the department access to all of our records so we can harmonise our efforts to protect the Alternate community in the United Kingdom.”

A step too far. Fists banged against the table as shouts filled the room.

“Share the records?” A voice bellowed to Charlie’s right. It was Oberon, Doyen of Vis. He stood from the table, his dark robes billowing around him as his chair toppled to the ground. “This is unacceptable.”

“Madness, this was never proposed to us for consideration,” a woman said across from Charlie, her words eerily echoing around the room. It was Ione, Doyen of Viva, her eyes narrowing as her fingers clenched at the table.

Others stirred from their seats and before long, no voice stood out over the commotion. Immune to the shouting, Wade slowly stood as a smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“As Master of the Inquisition, I have made my decision in line with the charter of Magus Lore. This cannot be undone and you will hold your tongue Oberon. Do not think you cannot be removed from this chamber as I have had others before you. Your allegiance is to the council and to my decision, which is made. This is the best option, for
all
of us,” Wade said.

Meyer left Charlie's mind, slumping into his chair. Hand over their control? How had that ever been agreed? And the records? Their secrets were the only thing that gave them any leverage with the likes of Helena. If Wade gave everything away, there would be no bargaining chips left. As much as Meyer hated him, Wade wasn't stupid, there must be a bigger play at hand, but what that was... The other big question was why had Wade brought Ruth and him here in the first place? Meyer had assumed it was for another job, but if it was in connection with this, then nothing good would come of it.

“We are in deep trouble, aren't we?” Ruth said.

“That, my dear, might be quite the understatement.”

The car braked suddenly, sending Henry crashing from the back seat into the foot well. He lay awkwardly, a prisoner in his own body, completely unable to move as an acidic warmth spread through his skin. Static crackled through the radio, drowning the car in constant noise.

Borrowed dreams swept through Henry’s mind, knocking aside his concentration as they flew. What did this guy want with him? He didn't have a lot of money and certainly couldn't be considered important. He didn't even have any knowledge that made him valuable, unless you considered his perfect recollection of every episode of the television series
The Big Bang Theory
. Henry’s thoughts flipped back to the creature reflected in the mirror, a world away from his current predicament, although it still played on his mind. Too much stress, that must be it. Life isn't easy when every social interaction is like preparing for a bungee jump. The conclusion had to be that he had broken, that life had finally become too much to handle. Maybe all of this was just a fantasy of his mind's creation and he was on his way to some psychiatric hospital. Was that a comforting thought? Do crazy people know they are crazy? It probably wasn't politically correct to call crazy people crazy, someone had probably coined another term for it: mentally perturbed perhaps? Henry wondered if crazy people considered that as well.

“Two is down,” said a voice piercing through the static.

“Damn,” said the driver of the car, his accent stereotypically London, which gave the whole situation a feel of a cab journey from a nightmare. Henry really needed to step down his imagination, it certainly didn’t help calm him.

“Four is down,” the voice from the speakers said again.

“Christ, where we supposed to go now?”

“Under?”

“Rosy, you joking? We won't last five minutes.”

“Under,” repeated the voice across the radio, but this time not as a question.

An endless chain of profanities and expletives filled the car, which told Henry wherever 'Under' meant, it wasn't good. At some point, he lost consciousness again, dreams tearing at his sanity as he lay defenceless against them.

A cold breeze against Henry’s neck was the first sign he had that they’d stopped, followed by the hand clasping the scruff of his shirt as he was pulled from the car. He fell maladroitly onto the pavement, his head impossibly heavy while his mind remained in his semi-unconscious trance. Henry forced himself up, but reached only the shoes of the man in front of him before his body gave way again. He lay powerless at the heels of the man he assumed to be the driver and his kidnapper. With another sting to the neck, a needle pierced into his veins, releasing a slurry of ice that chased the fire from his blood. After a few moments, the fog lifted, allowing Henry’s senses to return, which wasn't all good news, given the strong smell of rotting garbage. Gripping Henry by both shoulders, the driver lifted him to his feet and firmly shook him until his eyelids relinquished and finally opened.

“Henry,” he said.

Henry did not reply. His eyes were still glazed over, the figure in front of him no more than a blur, only his rough shape determinable. The man repeated his name as Henry felt a hand leave one of his shoulders, before it made contact with the side of his face, hard. Slapped into the present, the featureless figure before Henry took shape. The driver was a pale man with slicked back brown hair, a shark like grin and piercing blue eyes that stared directly at him, unblinking.

“What do you want?” Henry said.

“What do I want? A million quid and a ticket to the Bahamas. I'm here to help you. Trust me, you are in a shed load of trouble and we need to keep moving,” the man said.

Henry's head pounded like an engine ready to explode. On the upside, his thoughts had finally been freed of the endless hallucinations and were again, his own.

“Who the hell are you?” Henry said.

“My name is Gabriel, but believe me when I say I didn't choose it. We are not safe on the street, you need to come with me.”

“Come with you? Why the hell would I do that?”

There was a click and Henry looked down to find a gun pointed at him, a revolver of some kind. It was the first one he had seen in real life and, although it appeared remarkably similar to those he had seen in the movies, it was a damn sight scarier in person.

“Because I am asking nicely,” Gabriel said.

Henry always appreciated the subtle signs in life, especially one as understated as gun pointed to your chest. As things stood, he had two options. He could cause a fuss and try to escape, no doubt getting killed in the process or, alternatively, he could follow this guy and perhaps get some answers as to what on earth was going on. That was, before probably being murdered, which did mean death of course, but a little bit later than option one. There was option three of course, where this was all a delusional fantasy, but then whatever he did wouldn't matter, as his mind would make it up as it went along. Henry gave a half nod, which received a self gratifying grin from Gabriel as he ran his hand along the side of his head to smooth his hair.

The pair stood on a typical street, derelict seventies skyscrapers towering up on either side of them, in what could easily have been mistaken for a make-shift dump. Rubbish lay strewn everywhere, plastic bags floating past them like tumbleweeds, stacks of black bin liners built up like rock faces against the buildings. Before them, set in from the street, stood a crumble of dark red tiles amounting to what looked like an old Victorian fire station, sitting in juxtaposition to its surroundings of beige and grey concrete. The windows were boarded over, as well as three of the four entrances and on the forth, a strip of white tiles above the doorway had the letters 'EXIT' painted onto them. This was where the man, Gabriel, led Henry towards, the distinct cold cylinder of the gun barrel pressed into the small of his back. Gabriel simply touched the door, which swung open without resistance, clattering against the inside wall of the building. He took a step back and gestured for Henry to enter.

Henry stepped into blackness and was met by the smell of decay, notable even in comparison to the outside. The air was stale, heavy in his nostrils and thick with dust. With a flicker and buzz of electricity, overhead lights sprung to life, rippling out from the doorway. They illuminated a large room, clad with dirty green tiles. At the back was a small flight of steps and a corridor atop them, heading off in the distance. With the gun still pressed against his back, Henry climbed the steps and walked slowly down the corridor.

“Stop here,” Gabriel said.

Henry did as he was told. He felt the gun lose contact with his back as Gabriel stepped to the side of him and, taking hold of Henry’s arm, rotated him ninety degrees so he was looking at the wall.

At least a wall was what Henry was expecting to see. Instead, he found a pair of double wooden doors, slightly inlayed from the wall, green paint peeling across their surface. He had somehow missed it as they had walked along the corridor, although it was a pretty obvious thing to have ignored, especially as Henry prided himself on being observant, if nothing else. Gabriel pressed a small brass button and with a click, the doors slid open to reveal a lift carriage. Pulling back the metal gates, the pair entered, Gabriel closing the doors and the gate behind them, which locked with a deep clunk. As soon as he finished, Gabriel spun around and took two steps towards Henry, leaning slowly forward until their noses almost touched. Gabriel’s face was expressionless, apparently free from any need to blink, and close enough that Henry could feel his breath on his face.

“Who are you supposedly keeping me safe from?” Henry said, as much as to break the tension as for anything.

Gabriel smiled and leant back, standing upright, the small flecks of green in his eyes flickering in the harsh light of the exposed bulb above their heads. The elevator sprung into life, moving with unsuspected speed that made Henry reach for the wall to steady himself.

“I'm only guessing, but you saw something tonight you can't explain. Am I right? Something that made you think you are going mad,” Gabriel said.

How much did this guy know? Could he explain what happened? No, what had happened before was impossible and the nature of impossible things is they
can't
be explained. This guy was trying to get something from him and Henry’s job right now was to work out what that was. Information was valuable and in situations like a kidnap, he imagined, potentially life saving.

“Go on,” Henry said.

“You saw something that didn't look right. Caught it in the reflection of a window, or a mirror or something.”

“How could you know that? Have you been watching me?”

“Watching you? No, I haven't been watching you, who the hell do you think you are?”

“Obviously important enough for you to drug up and kidnap.”

Gabriel laughed, something sinister in the way he did so, no real joy in his tone.

“I thought you are supposed to be the quiet sort, that's what your file said. Maybe not a complete sociopath then, got a little backbone.” He paused. “Either I got you out of there, or the other guys would get you.”

“
Get me
? Why would anyone want to
get me
? What did I see in the mirror?”

The image of the creature reflected in the bathroom mirror flooded back to Henry, a monster from Doctor Who who had decided to pay him an unexpected visit.

“Now isn't the time to explain it all properly, is it? Needless to say, the world is a little more complicated than you think. You're not going mad, what happened tonight is all real. As I said, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated? Fantastic explanation Gabriel. How can it all be real? I saw something from Lord of the Rings enter the bathroom and pretend to be someone I've worked with for the past 3 years. Then, I'm chased out by deranged madmen with glowing red eyes who scare the hell out of me,
and then
I end up getting drugged and thrown in the back of your car. Now, you point a gun at me, lead me into this elevator which leads to God knows where and the best explanation you can give me is ‘it’s complicated?’”

Gabriel laughed hard, this time with genuine emotion, but Henry wasn't laughing.

“You have no idea, do you? Suppose that is fair enough. Okay, how was this pitched to me?” Gabriel paused, as if trying to recollect a long forgotten memory. “You ever seen Doctor Who? What if I told you the world isn't a million miles off that stuff?”

“You're some sort of time traveller!?”

“No, you plonker. What is it with you and questions? Listen. The world is not just populated by normal humans. We aren't talking bloomin' ET, so don't go off on one. You heard of mutation? Well, about eleven hundred years ago we discovered some humans had a mutation that meant they displayed certain
characteristics
. We aren't talking anything major like Spiderman or that rubbish. You'd never know if you bumped into one in the street. Well,
you
would.”

“The guy in the bathroom wasn't particularly human.”

“Ah, yeah. That's where it gets a bit more complicated. We don't have all the time in the world to go over this now, but these people only appear like that to a few who can see them. They are normal to the rest of us.”

“Only a few people - like me? I mean, what I saw looked like an extra from Star Wars.”

“You like your movies, don't you? Shouldn't be surprised, you're the type,” Gabriel said. “So what did you see, cos you'll need to be a little more specific. Scales? Fur? Fangs?”

This was some sort of prank. A television crew was poised to jump out at any moment, an involuntary guest on whatever reality TV show they were flogging now. Dixie had to be behind this, he would love to watch Henry getting embarrassed like this. But he had seen something and he would have sworn it was real.

“Green skin, hairy ears,” Henry said with a raise of his lip.

“A Grol then, interesting folk the Grol. Don't worry, there aren't that many different ones to learn.”

“A...”

“Grol.”

“Is that an alien or something, but it only looks like that to me?”

“No, your supposed to be smart aren't you? Try to keep up. I said no aliens. They are human, like you and me.” He stopped for a second and smiled. “Well, not like you and me. Essentially human, with some added extras. These characteristics, well, they can take on different shapes - like the Grol.”

“Bloody hell. So am I one of these too?”

“Kind of, but it's not something to freak out about. You, Henry Fellows, are an Inquisitor.”

“A what?” Henry said.

“Do you really need to pointlessly interrupt? This is an info drop, I speak and you listen. As I was saying, you are an Inquisitor. Among your list of skills, you see people with these mutations, indirectly, in their reflections. That is part of the reason why a group, of real kill-you-while-you-sleep style terrorists, would like you dead. Simple, ain't it?”

It was anything but simple. Christ this was too much to take in, he would have another panic attack at this rate.

“Mutations?” Henry said.

“Yes, although the easiest way to think about it is that there is another power at work in the world, outside of laws of physics.”

“What is it?”

“Look, now what I'm about to tell you will sound mad, but you need to trust me, it's not. I am talking about something called magus, but for the purpose of saving you a lesson in Latin and alternate history, you can call it magic.”

This had to be a joke.

“Magic? You really expect me to believe that? Why not just say the bad guy is a yeti and Scooby Doo helps you solve mysteries?”

“It’s the truth!”

“Well, go on then, make yourself invisible or conjure a cat. Prove it.”

“Oh sod off, this is why our kind avoid humans, you are so entangled in your own media-induced ideas of things.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t human?”

“You’re not. You’ve seen a Grol, care to explain that? Or what about your red-eyed friends? Any explanation? You are going to need to trust me on this one.”