Alchemist rules, p.13
Alchemist Rules, page 13
part #3 of The Ironspell Chronicles Series
Bailey tsked. “Kids these days. They don’t teach them how to think. I would’ve thought you’d ask more.”
I turned back around. “What do you mean?”
“Toxicology isn’t the only place where magic traces can turn up.” He smiled grimly. “I did manage to get into the Dean’s office where Johann died after the police were done with their investigation and before Professor Carnaz took over the office.”
“You did?” I raised an eyebrow. “Did you learn something?”
“There was the faintest hint of magic I didn’t recognize,” Bailey said. “Maybe it’s something; maybe it’s nothing. With the Wizard Task Force running around there, it could’ve been something they were using.”
I cocked my head. While I wasn’t part of the DWTF, I had paid enough attention to it. I hadn’t heard anything about odd magic being used through the grapevine, so if they were using something, it would be confidential. But you can bet the flatfoots here would’ve heard about it. “Huh,” I said. “I wonder what it could be? Something out of the other Worlds?”
“You mean the other Nine?” Bailey shrugged. “Not from Nidavellir, the realm of the Dwarves. It’s been centuries since I’ve been there, but I’d recognize the magic anywhere.”
I frowned. “Then it wouldn’t be Dark Elves either, I suppose.”
Bailey looked sharply at me. “The Drow? They haven’t been on Earth for two hundred years.”
“Would you recognize Dark Elf magic?”
Bailey shook his head. “Never dealt with them.” He sighed. “Everyone thinks we’re the same, but we’re not. They come from Svartalfheim, not Nidavellir.”
I nodded. “Thanks. I guess we’ll never know how Henrik really died.”
“I don’t know.” The Dwarf shook his head. “You may have to ask him yourself, assuming he gets over being dead.”
“Hold a séance?” I looked skeptical.
“Just a thought.” The Dwarf glanced at his smartphone. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got to prepare for my next class.”
I noted the time. “Yeah, I’ve got to get back too. Thanks for your help.”
“If you have any more questions, feel free to talk to me again.” The Dwarf nodded before pushing his spectacles to the bridge of his nose and getting back to grading the homework papers.
“Will do.” I left, shutting his door on the way out. Bailey had given me a lot to think about.
~ * ~
As I made my way across campus, I kept having the odd feeling like someone was following me. Call it paranoia or a good self-preservation instinct, but I felt more jittery than normal. Maybe it was the weird change in my routine of having to be awake in the daytime, but my spidey senses kept tingling. But, when I looked around, it was just a day full of sunshine and warm enough weather to have students lounging in the green areas.
Even so, I hurried back to the library to see what else the ghost had destroyed. I half expected the stacks to be in disarray but to my surprise, nothing more had been disturbed. Arden wasn’t there—I suspected she was teaching a class—which left me on my own for tidying up the place. I walked down each aisle, looking for anything disturbed, but all seemed in order. I switched to my magic sight hoping to catch the ghost.
That’s when I saw the shadow walker.
Chapter Twenty
The shadow walker froze when I saw it. I happened to be underneath one of the Library’s aged fluorescent lights when I saw two red eyes glowing back at me from the shadows beside the bookcases. Shadow walkers are rare interdimensional beings that work as assassins in our world. Like demons, they’re summoned to do a job, but unlike demons, their sole purpose is to kill. Their payment is the life force of their victim.
Shadow walkers are two dimensional beings within our world that inhabit the shadows and darkness. Direct light kills them, which is why they inhabit the shady areas, shadows, and inside buildings in the daytime and can prowl around at night, provided that they avoided lighted areas, car headlights, and other places where humans have lit up the night. I’ve heard they were more common in the past when humans only had fire and candles. Little wonder people stayed close to the fire at night.
As quickly as I saw it, the shadow walker disappeared in the Library’s gloom. Shadow walkers pride themselves on stealth. They aren’t immensely strong or powerful, but they don’t need to be when they can hop shadows at will. I had just lucked out and saw it. Most shadow walker targets never see what kills them.
I called up a shield and a light spell and held the light aloft, hoping to keep the creature at bay. At that moment, something smacked against my shield from behind—hard. For a brief instant, I saw an inky creature with four talons and no visible head scrape down my shield. The shield shook and flashed; four large scratches tore into the shield, nearly ripping through it.
I spun the light around, and it attacked again from behind; this time the gouges were deeper and one created a hole in the shield. I spun the light around again. I didn’t need it to come oozing through the shield, effectively trapping me. I tried to repair the gash when the creature took another swipe at the first place it hit.
The shadow walker attacked from behind. This time, I turned to look at it before it sidled around away from the light. It morphed and became something with a maw filled with sharp teeth in its center just below two red eyes glowing at me. It still had the four limbs with sharp claws. The creature had sought refuge in my shadow and was using its advantage to rip open my shield.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I muttered as I looked down at my feet. The light was casting my own shadow, giving it a way to move around me. As long as I cast a shadow, it could come after me. As long as it had shadows inside the room, it could bide its time and get to me.
My arm quivered from exhaustion as I raised it. “Lucidius sole!” I shouted and my voice cracked as I closed my eyes. I poured as much of my power into those words as I dared to.
A brilliant flash lit up the library that I could see even with my eyes closed. At the last second, I felt something throw itself against my weakening shield, and with the flash it extinguished. I stumbled and then fell, smacking my head against one of the bookshelves. I was out before I hit the floor.
~ * ~
I woke up to a pounding headache and Arden standing over me, talking rapidly on her cell phone to whom I guessed was 911. My addled mind wondered how the hell they got reception here in the basement, and then I wondered why she was calling emergency services. Were there two shadow walkers? I had never heard of two being summoned.
I groaned.
“Oh good! He’s awake!” Arden said. “Don’t move him? Keep him there? Okay.” She turned to me. “Do you know who you are?”
“Marilyn Monroe,” I said sarcastically. “Shit, I need a rematch with that bookshelf.”
“Seriously?” Arden said.
“Bob Ironspell-Cabas,” I replied. “I’m in the Library and you’re Arden Thomson. Last time I checked it was April 8th. I haven’t filed my taxes yet.”
“Yeah, he seems mostly lucid,” Arden spoke in her phone. “Not sure about the taxes thing, though.” She turned to me, putting her hand on the mouthpiece. “You know you can file for an extension?”
I groaned again. At that point, the paramedics came downstairs complete with a gurney. After they took my blood pressure, shined annoying lights in my eyes, and examined the bump on my head, they threatened to take me to the hospital. The preliminary diagnosis was a concussion combined with magical overexertion—apparently one of the EMTs was a magic user and could read auras. I refused treatment and decided against going in. I know, stupid. But nobody accused me of being right in the head.
Arden sent me home, despite my objections. An inglorious first day working as a ghostbuster where two entities tried to kill me. It was enough to piss off Spiderman. I would’ve objected more, but it felt like someone was stomping on my brain. Discretion being the better part of valor, I returned to the tiny house and climbed inside. I don’t remember taking the staircase up nor collapsing in bed.
~ * ~
I awoke to a demon screaming. Not just any demon, of course. “You fucking chicken!” Tuzren screeched.
I shoved my pillow over my head. Not again. I peered at the clock from under my safe place and saw it was after seven. I sighed. I needed to get up, get some food, and go talk to some vampires. I wondered if I could slip out without either of them noticing I was gone and unhooking the tiny house so they’d have to deal with each other. Maybe the Goblins would come steal it again. I could possibly get rid of two problems at once.
I dragged myself out of bed and changed clothes. The shadow walker’s appearance unnerved me. Whomever I had pissed off, I had done so spectacularly to the point where they were ready to summon magical assassins to take me out. I hated to admit it, but I was now out of my league. I could call the cops, but I was “the cops,” which meant that I either had to tell Captain Lewis about it or settle it myself. I had a snarky feeling that Captain Lewis would probably send whoever was doing it a thank you note and maybe offer some pointers for how to get me out of their hair permanently.
What the fuck had I done to piss off someone enough to hire an assassin?
Two assassins, I reminded myself. The Orc was a lame assassin, but still an assassin. With the exception of my five former partners and a myriad of supernatural miscreants I locked up, I couldn’t think of anyone else who would have a beef with me enough to hire a shadow walker.
I had gotten lucky and seen the shadow assassin. As I’ve said before, most targets never even see their killer. I walked down the stairs, hesitating a moment as the demon flew past me screaming something unintelligible while Fluffy followed in hot pursuit. I stepped into the kitchen to check on what was available for dinner. Lasagna. I pulled a piece from the oven and carried it over to the table.
“Help!” Tuzren screamed.
Fluffy roared.
I took my first bite of creamy, cheesy goodness and picked up my smartphone. Thumbing through the index, I found Spaz’s number. I set it to dial and as Tuzren and Fluffy roared and screamed, I hit the mute button. “Hey guys, pipe it down. I’m on the phone.”
“Pipe it down? Pipe it down!” Tuzren repeated. “That monster is trying to kill me!”
“Go somewhere else,” I said. “Or die quietly. Okay?” I turned my attention to the phone and unmuted it.
Not surprisingly, I got his voicemail. “Hey, you got the Spaz. I’m out right now and if I still have space in my mailbox, you can leave a message. Or you can meet me in the Enchanted Forest.” The voicemail beeped.
“Spaz, this is Ironspell. I’ve had two attempts on my life. Believe it or not, I’m really not used to it. Can you look and see if I have any enemies who’d hire a shadow walker? And yeah, I’ve got those Net disruptors for you.”
As I hung up, I considered taking a walk in the Enchanted Forest to find Spaz, but decided against it because the Net within the Net was a big place—bigger than RL, if you could believe. So who knew where Spaz might actually be? I had some clues, but the guy was untraceable for all intents and purposes. It would be better if he came to me. Assuming he even listened to his voicemail. The fact that his voicemail box wasn’t full was a good sign.
I finished my dinner and went to see if Fluffy had eaten Tuzren. I found the little demon in the den on the couch with the chicken beside him watching the latest popular reality show set in the Enchanted Forest. Apparently some broadcaster figured out how to film the action inside the Net within the Net and hired nonmagical contestants to survive obstacles and monsters within the Enchanted Forest. The contestants who lost ended up getting their brains scrambled by whatever creatures they failed to overcome. Barbaric to say the least, as usual, the laws hadn’t caught up with the technology and lawmakers were still trying to figure out privacy laws and identity theft there. And since it was technically a world outside of RL, the enforcement was difficult, at best.
I stared in wonder at the two. Tuzren had made popcorn and they were sharing it while watching two contestants fleeing from psychic werewolves. “You two okay?” I asked, hardly believing my eyes.
Fluffy made a very unchicken-like honk and caught the popcorn the little demon tossed to her. “Yeah, we’re fine,” Tuzren said between mouthfuls of popcorn, never tearing his eyes off the screen. “You know, if Carmen and Jason make it through the werewolf forest, they’ll win a new vacation home in New Maui?”
“Wow,” I said, trying to sound interested. “You mean they’ll get a virtual home?”
“Yeah, but it’s like worth millions of Bitcoins.”
“Right. I’m going out to Highlands Ranch to talk to some vamps. I’m leaving the house here. I got a parking pass for the house, so you should be okay.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Tuzren waved me away. Fluffy sat up straighter and clucked with interest at the TV. “Come on Carmen!” Tuzren shouted at the screen. The woman was trying to climb a tree to get away from some nightmare-looking wolves with saber teeth that were as big as a pony.
“Great. Keep an eye on everything.”
“Have fun storming the castle,” Tuzren said.
Chapter Twenty-One
Vampires lived in affluent areas like Highlands Ranch, Cherry Hills, and Hiwan, changing the old adage “you can’t take it with you” to “you can take it with you.” Highlands Ranch was originally a real ranch that became a yuppie community back in the 80s, and since that time, it grew more affluent in certain sections. Some of the richest vampires in Colorado have a home here, choosing to bulldoze entire sections of suburbia and McMansions in favor of creating their own private manors.
I knew of Highlands Ranch from a college buddy of mine everyone called Droid. Droid hated yuppies and vamps with a passion for all the typical reasons. Droid used to live trap mice in his home and release them on the vamp manor lawns. I accompanied Droid on one of his covert mice releases one night after drinking heavily following midterm exams. What can I say? I thought it’d be fun. Instead, it was the most frightening time I experienced up to that point. Suffice to say, I didn’t have a career in vampire taunting and Droid waited about a half a year before he resumed his covert mice repopulation activities.
Since the vamps had taken over most of Highlands Ranch, the only living people who resided there were either vampire groupies, people who serviced the vampires (sometimes the same), or people who couldn’t afford to live anywhere else in the Denver Metro area. This had turned portions of Highlands Ranch into slums, complete with shambling zombies from failed turnings.
As I drove through the more dangerous areas of Highlands Ranch, I saw a few zombies. Former McMansions, many of them boarded up, fill the part I drove through. A few still looked lived in. The zombies I saw were mostly shamblers—too stupid and slow to be dangerous alone. Luckily there weren’t many.
The zombies didn’t really concern me, though. I had my vamp/zombie/were shots last year which were good for five years against the viruses that turned people into these creatures, but it wouldn’t save you from a draining or a mauling. They could still kill me if they got hold of me, but I wouldn’t contract the virus and come back undead. I heard some alchemists were working on a way to make human blood taste bad to end vampirism and were feedings. Unfortunately, that put the alchemists on the vamps’ hit list and they had to go underground. Still, I heard the research was continuing.
I checked the address where I knew Tobias St. Clair lived. I had been there only once before and given how screwed up the roads were there due to the constant renovations, I wasn’t sure I could trust the app on my smartphone. I need not have worried though; Tobias had the biggest monstrosity in the area. The road wound its way up a hill toward a castle that looked like something out of Dracula with its Gothic spires, conical turrets, and over-the-top creepiness factor. I had seen it in the raid a couple of weeks ago and seeing it now even in the dark, I decided that it was still a creepy place.
As risky as it was to harass a master vamp in his lair, I knew Tobias would see me. He was under probation for vampire assault on an unwilling donor because we couldn’t pin the human trafficking charge on him. He had been more than cooperative for a fang banger and ratted on his fellow vamps to keep him out of jail or getting a stake through the heart.
The gate to Tobias’s driveway was closed. As my Toyota approached, the speaker crackled. “State your business.”
“Officer Bob Ironspell-Cabas, DPSD.” I flashed my badge at the security camera. Okay, I could get into trouble for extracurricular investigations, but I couldn’t see what they’d do to me that they already would’ve done. Namely, I was already on administrative leave.
There was the expected hesitation for about half a minute and then the gates opened. “Come on in. Mr. St. Clair is waiting for you.”
I drove up to the house, parking the trusty Toyota where I could make a rapid escape, if need be. I hoped Tobias would be reasonable and cooperate with me. But hope is often the first step on the road to disappointment.
I took my first hopeful steps out of the truck and activated the wards on the Toyota with a touch of my hand.
I strode up to the ostentatiously massive door to Tobias’s lair. Cast from cold iron, the panels encased the door with gargoyles, vampires, werewolves, zombies, gothic dragons, and other creatures. Security cameras focused on me from overhead. I switched to my magical sight and all at once, the doors and windows glowed with deadly ward runes. I nodded, quite impressed. He upped his game since the last time I was here. Tobias wasn’t fooling around when it came to security, using a mixture of magical and Normal security measures. No doubt the buddies he narced on were out for his head.
Before I could knock or ring the bell, the door swung open and a lower order vampire welcomed me in. Like many vampires, this one had a death gray complexion. He had tied back his shoulder-length, dirty blond hair into a ponytail and stared at me with pale blue eyes. He looked like he had been turned when he was thirty, but how old he was, was anyone’s guess. Certainly younger than Tobias; an older vamp wouldn’t be in a low station. His gray suit looked flawless, but it was cut to be a servant’s uniform rather than something custom made. “Mr. St. Clair is expecting you.”
