Page of Swords (The Demon's Apprentice Book 2) (4 page)

Chapter 4

~ Things can ALWAYS get worse. ~

Common proverb among magi.

After that, things were a little fuzzy. I was aware of Wanda's face hovering over mine, and her hands on my face, warm through her gloves.  Light pulsed against my eyelids. People around me talked quietly. One of the
Falcon's
doors opened and closed. Then, there was just the pattern of light and darkness, Wanda's touch, and her voice calling on her Goddess. My eyes snapped open when the car stopped. Wanda's concerned face was still there.

“Chance, we're here,” she said.

“Where's here?” I asked. My headache had faded from a spike of fire to a dull pounding behind my eyes. No more blurriness.

“Dr. C's place. Can you see yet?”

“Yeah. I think I can walk, too.”

“Your eyes aren't glowing anymore.” She sounded relieved, and I shared the feeling.

“Yeah, uh, Chance?” Lucas didn't sound so happy.

I leaned up experimentally. My head didn't fall off my shoulders or threaten to explode, so I came up the rest of the way. My ribs threatened dire consequences if I moved again, but I ignored them.

Lucas wasn't one to jump at shadows. After dealing with an empathic Emo girl and a guy who claimed he could sense evil, though, I was ready to start asking him to. His gaze was on something in front of us, and I looked out the windshield.

“Oh, sweet Venus,” Wanda whispered softly, sounding like a prayer had been answered.

Shade's silver Mustang was parked down the street. Not quite a shadow. Not quite a danger. Just another spike through the heart of an already-crappy night. The driver's side door opened, and while the dome light was on, I could see Shade was alone in the car. She stepped out, still in her outfit from earlier. Even in high-heeled boots, she was graceful as she walked.

My hand fumbled for the door latch, and I spared a grudging glance to find it so I could get out. The cool air on my face helped my headache, and it helped me get other things under control. By the time she made it to the car, I was my usual surly self again.

“Where's your boyfriend?” I asked. Yeah, I was smooth.

“He's not my boyfriend, Chance. Tonight was . . . I wanted to talk to you about it, actually, but
someone's
been avoiding me. Please, Chance, I need my
gothi
. I need
you
.”

Hearing her say that ripped something open inside me, and suddenly, all I could think of was having her in my arms. Right here, right now. In spite of what she’d said at Imbolc.

“Anyone missing or dying?” It sounded harsher than I'd intended, but it was all I had.

“No, but there's a—”

“Then it'll have to wait. Someone
is
missing, and there's a warlock involved. I gotta talk to Dr. C. We can talk about whatever it is later.”

So help me, she ducked her head like a whipped puppy. I felt about an inch tall right then.

“Okay,” she almost whispered. “Please, Chance, I need to talk to you about this.” She brought one hand up and laid it on my chest. “Please.”

Another word from her, and my resolve was going to crumble.

“Later, okay?”

She nodded and took a step back from me. I headed for Dr. C's front door with the loud sounds of Lucas and Wanda getting out of the
Falcon
behind me. I could hear them talking to Shade as I opened the wrought iron gate and headed up the walk. Hells, they still thought she and I had a shot at being together. In spite of my own wishful thinking, I knew better.

Dr. C's place was the perfect house for a wizard. If I could have lived anywhere other than my mom's house, it would have been here. I didn't know Victorian from Gothic from a hole in the ground, but this place just oozed history in spite of the new paint job. Windows jutted out from the sides in sitting nooks, and the eaves were scalloped. The roof sported chimneys and lightning rods, and a big, beveled-glass window that looked out from the attic. My combat boots sounded loud on the wooden porch, and if a screen door could sound warm when it squeaked open, this one did. The house itself seemed to welcome me the first time I set foot in it six months ago. Since then, it had only seemed more and more like a second home to me.

The door opened with a gentle thump. Something felt
off
as soon as I stepped across the threshold.

“Dr. C?” My voice got swallowed up by the silence.

Nothing looked off in the foyer. The lamps were still on, still shining warm against the dark gloss of the wood paneling. The coat rack held two unfamiliar coats though. My hands went to my back, and I realized my paintball gun was still in my backpack . . . out in the car. After the backlash of magick earlier, I wasn't eager to toss spells around. Just thinking about it made my head pound even harder. I still had my wand in my jacket pocket, though. And, I had a new toy that might take the edge off of the first couple of spells I might have to cast.

I stuck my right hand into my front pocket. Snuggled in with a couple of cinnamon Firebombs was my touchstone. I'd only managed to get it to hold a store of magickal energy this afternoon, and evidently, just in time. With it, I wouldn't have to draw on my own energies, which were still pretty small, or on external magick, which took a greater toll on the body to focus. Besides, drawing on one of the ley lines that ran through the house would only warn whoever was here, if they were the least bit sensitive to magick. The touchstone activated with my touch and a thought.

“In the library, Chance,” Dr. C's muffled voice came.

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was okay. With no more reason to worry, I deactivated the touchstone and went across the foyer and down the hall to the twin doors of the library. The doors opened with their usual whoosh, and the smell of old books hit my nose.

Dr. C was behind his desk with one of his thick tomes in front of him. He had his favorite black sweater on, and his glasses were perched halfway down his nose. Over the top of the chair I usually sat in, I could see the dark skin and neat cornrows of the man sitting across the desk from him.

“I know you have company sir, but I need to talk to you. There's a girl missing, and I think there's a warlock involved.”

“You mean, aside from yourself?” a cold voice came from over my left shoulder.

A cold line of steel pressed ever so gently against my throat. I turned my head slightly to see who was talking. He was big, an easy six feet with an inch or two to spare. Corded muscle ran like ropes across his arms. A black t-shirt was doing its best to cover a broad chest that I bet women loved to throw themselves against in moments of passion. This was muscle meant for doing things, not for flexing. His brown hair was tied back from his tanned face, and his brown eyes were serene. He stood like there was nothing wrong in the whole world, like there was no hurry to do anything. My eyes went to the heavy silver ankh pendant on his chest, the symbol of the Sentinels.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the other man stand. He wore the same black shirt and fatigue pants, only he was carrying a pistol in each hand, instead of four feet of sharp steel. One was pointed at me, and the other at Dr. C. Another ankh pendant was gleaming against his shirt. Yeah, this weekend just kept getting better and better.

“Cross, T-Bone, he's not a threat,” Dr. C said. He hustled out from behind the desk, and came to my side.

I recognized the names. When the Conclave wanted someone really dead, really bad, they called these guys in. Todd Cross and Thaddeus “T-Bone” Banner. The Right and Left Hands of Death. Dulka had taught me to fear them second only to him, and if I’d been in better shape, I would probably have tried to run.

“I beg to differ,” the man with the sword rumbled.

“Oh, relax, Cross. He's injured, and his aura is scrambled to hell and back. Chance, what happened to you, son?”

Dr. C was the only person other than my Mom who could call me that and not piss me off. I shrugged and tried to keep my game face on in front of the strangers. Cross lowered his sword, but T-Bone’s guns stayed on us.

“Guy hit my TK shield before it was completely, um, stable.”

“With what? A bus?” he asked incredulously.

He put one hand in front of my face, and I could feel his aura against mine. As he moved his fingers slightly, I could feel my own aura responding. My spine twinged as he put his other hand over the small of my back.

“Baseball bat. But he was really, really strong, sir.”

“I'd ask how that happened, but I'm afraid we have bigger problems now.”

“Yeah, I kinda noticed the Hands of Death. What's up?”

“They're from the Conclave. The High Council sent them to ask me a few questions. About the
Maxilla
.”

“We got a few more questions now,” T-Bone said. He had hints of inner city in his speech, and an accent I couldn't place. His head snapped to his right when the thump of the front door opening reached us.

“You're about to have a few questions of your own to answer, gentlemen. Unless I miss my guess, two very normal teenagers have just entered this house. Presumably, Chance's friends who gave him a ride. Seeing two men brandishing weapons in my library is going to lead to an awkward situation.”

Dr. C ran his hand up behind my back. The last of the headache faded as I felt energy centers in my body realigning.

“You two are going to have to come with us, then. The High Council wanted to speak with you anyway. Finding
him
,” Cross pointed at me, “was a bonus.”

A pair of taps came at the library door, and the weapons disappeared like magick.

“Once, upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,” Dr. C quoted with a smile.

Lucas pushed the door open. “While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly, there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,” he finished the quote from Poe's poem 'The Raven.' Wanda stepped in behind him. They both stopped when they saw strangers in the room.

“Sorry, Dr. C,” Wanda said. “We didn't know you had company. We'll come back later. Come on, Chance.”

“Actually, I was just about to drive Chance home. Why don't you two go on. I'm sure he'll call you tomorrow.”

They looked to me. Once I gave them a nod, they backed out quickly. The front door thumped closed a moment later.

“No questions,” T-Bone remarked. “They're either really dumb, or they know more than they should.”

“They've seen enough to know that Chance and I deal with unusual things sometimes. Things the Conclave ought to have dealt with instead. Now, if you don't mind, I need to gather some things that may answer some of the Council's questions.” The pair exchanged a look. T-Bone shrugged, but Cross looked like he'd just swallowed raw lemons.

Dr. C didn't wait for his nod to pull a pair of leather-bound journals from the drawer of his desk and grab his staff from the corner of the room. Like all magi, his staff was as much an expression of who he was as it was a symbol of his rank. Dr. C’s was a dark wood, unvarnished and worn-looking. A rough-cut crystal was set at the top, amid a tangle of roots. One of his wands was also tucked into the top, and a small bag dangled from leather straps. Runes and sigils were burned into it down its length, and a metal cap covered the bottom.

We left through the side door off the kitchen. The night air was cool and damp on my skin after being in the warmth of the house.

“If Shade's here, I hope she doesn't do anything rash, like try to rescue us,” Dr. C said softly. “That would only make things worse for us.” My eyes went to the street. Shade's car was still parked down the street, and I felt my gut go tight in sudden fear.

“No, she's smarter than that,” I said.

“Good. Your mother should be here for this, Chance. You can ask for her to be present, you know,” he said as we got to the curb.

“No!” I snapped. “I don't want her to know about . . . what I did. Not ever. I'd rather die than let her know. She'd hate me.”

Dr. C put his hands on my shoulders as our two escorts exchanged a look.

“Listen to me Chance. Her presence might just save your life. Whether you like it or not, I think she should be there. Anyone who cares about you would make sure she was there. I think you underestimate how much she loves you.”

“No one could love me that much, sir.” I pulled away and got in his beat up Range Rover.

He shrugged to Cross and T-Bone and got in. Cross led the way on his motorcycle, a big Harley, while T-Bone followed in an old blue Torino. Dr. C and I didn't say a word to each other as he drove.

I don't know what I was expecting for the meeting place of the High Council of the Conclave of Wizards. I sure as all Nine Hells didn't expect them to choose the Hamblin Tower. Dr. C smiled at the look I gave him as we pulled up under the black building's shadow.

“You were expecting an abandoned warehouse or a dilapidated church? We're wizards. Where else are we going to meet but in a dark, forbidding tower?” He got out of the truck before I could come up with a smartass answer and reached in the back for his staff. I followed him to a side entrance. It got harder to actually look at the Tower the closer we got to it. On impulse, I stretched my senses toward it, and felt them slide off of it. A quick peek with my Third Eye showed me the red aversion runes that hung in the air at the building's four quarters. Glowing white ward runes hung behind them, and at the cross quarters as well. They hammered at my senses as I got closer to them. With the level of power I was feeling, the only way anyone was going to get inside the Tower tonight was with a ward stone, or in a bucket. I didn't have the first one, and I didn't want to explore my career options as goo. My feet stopped as I made it to the edge of the warded area.