Dark Descent (Codex Blair Book 3) Page 7

  In my mind’s eye, I was standing in the court yard of the fortress, watching the incoming attack, and scrambling to position. Like a miniature fight, I had a wand at the ready and an incantation on my lips before too much time had passed. I fired off an attack, but they dodged it deftly, circling to one side and then coming back towards me. Their beak was open, ready to devour me—that would be game over. If they won the fight, they would win my mind, and I couldn't have that.

  I ran to one side of the fortress, determined not to lose to them, unwilling to put up with the humiliation that would come from it. I slammed a fist into an innocuous spot on the wall, but it was booby trapped. Spikes came out of the earth there and launched into the sky, aiming for the giant bird like trained missiles.

  The bird was too fast for me, though, and dodged the missiles without too much effort.

  Let's all keep in mind that I was holding my own for at least a few seconds with a fucking immortal creature, and cut me some slack. This was beyond terrifying. I could feel myself quaking in my imaginary boots.

  More than that, I could feel the sweat starting to bead on my actual forehead, which was a bad sign. It meant that they were wearing at my defences.

  Was the bird not the only attacker? I panicked and spun in a circle, wanting to pull out of my miniature form and change my viewpoint so that I could see the fortress, see if another attack was coming, but I couldn't risk the bird capturing my visualised form.

  I was the key to my mind.

  I ran inside one of the doors near me, fleeing into the stone work and slamming the door shut. It would be difficult for Raven to get in there, being a giant bird and all.

  I forgot that they could shape shift.

  Duh. Idiot.

  A troll came crashing through the door, saliva coating its tusks, swinging a giant mace in one of its massive hands. I barely had a moment to spin around and face my attacker before the mace came swinging down on my fragile head, slamming me into the floor and forcing me out of the fortress I had built.

  Raven had won the fight.

  I opened my eyes and found that I was looking up at the ceiling of the basement, drenched in sweat.

  "You did very well." Raven's voice sounded far away, a sign that I had learned meant that I was in trouble. I pulled in several breaths as I got myself back under control.

  "I don't feel like I did," I said, panting.

  "Of course you do not. That does not change the fact that you did a good job. I do not say this lightly."

  That was true. Was I being harder on myself than Raven was for once? That was new.

  I pulled myself up to a sitting position, my face grim. Raven was going to want to go again, and that had taken a lot out of me.

  "You may have a moment to catch your breath," they said with a smile that was kind but with a wicked glint in their eye, "and then we will begin again."

  11

  I was standing in the hall of a building, uncertain of my actual surroundings.

  What building was it? I couldn't tell.

  I started walking down the hallway, cautious. A thump sounded behind me, and I whirled about, reaching for one of my wands at the same time.

  I didn't have my holsters on, my wands were missing. I was aware then that my accessories were missing—no chain, no rings, no cuff. But there was no one and nothing behind me, just the hall stretching on and on as if it were endless.

  Panic began to set in, but I forced myself to take in several breaths. I was going to be OK, I was going to get through this, whatever it was.

  Why couldn't I remember where I was? I must have been attacked, must have hit my head. Just temporary amnesia that would wear off as soon as I reached something that jogged my memory.

  Yeah. That made me feel a little better. And that explained the missing foci; if I had been attacked and knocked unconscious, my attacker would have been wise to remove all my weaponry. But most people miss the chain and rings, they don't normally know what those are for...

  Footsteps sounded behind me, back the way I was headed, and I turned around again. I didn't see anyone coming, but I had the feeling that they were close. I was starting to get a familiar feeling of this place, as if I had been here before.

  Like déjà vu, like I had gone through all this once already.

  I shook my head to clear the thoughts and began to walk in the direction of the footsteps. No sense in running, whatever was there was going to catch up with me eventually. Best to face it now and be done with it.

  And then a door appeared on my left—that hadn't been there before, had it?—and opened up. Three people came out of the door, two men and one woman.

  The vampires I had killed six months ago.

  No, no, this wasn't possible. They were dead! I had killed them! What were they doing here?

  "You killed us," they said in unison. I would have found it creepy if this entire scenario wasn't already making my skin crawl. "Why did you kill us?"

  "I had to!" I shouted, panic edging its way into my voice. "You were threatening my friends, you were trying to kill me. It was self-defence!"

  "We were victims as much as you were, unable to control ourselves. Why did you kill us, Sheach? You could have saved us."

  I know, I know, I know.

  I felt wetness on my cheeks and knew that I was crying. I knew I could have saved them, deep down in my gut, I knew that they had been wronged as much as I had, and I had wanted to save them. I had, hadn't I? I hadn't been so blinded by the rage that I hadn't even thought about it...

  "I'm sorry," I sobbed.

  "It is too late for apologies."

  They descended upon me, fangs gleaming in the dim lighting of the hall.

  I sat up with a lurch, my cheeks wet with tears, my sleep shirt sticking to my chest, drenched with sweat. My throat was sore and I knew that I had been screaming.

  No matter how many times I had that nightmare, it always hit me like the first time. And that wasn't the only nightmare that plagued me; I saw every single one of the creatures I had dispatched—murdered—over the past two years.

  The vampires were the only ones that pleaded innocence, though. That was a twist that didn't come up with the others. And strangely, I never dreamed of Deacon. You would think that him being the first monster and all, he would be the star of the show. It was actually one of his henchman, my first kill in my entire life, that haunted me the most.

  His eyes...

  I clenched my own tightly, covering them with my hands and shaking my head.

  "No," I croaked the word out.

  I threw the covers off and grabbed a pair of loose cotton shorts from the pile nearest my bed, shimmying into them. I wasn't going to be getting any more sleep tonight, that much was obvious. The nightmares were strong, and there was no way I could lay back down and do anything with myself like this.

  I padded out of the room in my bare feet and down the stairs to the basement, a trembling wave of my hand bringing flickering light to life. I saw Fred in the corner of the room, one of his short legs crossed over the other, holding one of the science fiction books I had bought for him.

  It had always been funny to me that a little red imp would be a science fiction fan, but he loved reading about spaceship battles and the various politics that the other races got into. I wondered for a moment if he had known anything like the races written about, if he had seen anything like those book worlds brought to life. Or was it that he hadn't, and this was the only thing that could offer him an escape from the world he had known for so long? It was quite a bit to think about.

  "Hey," I said as I walked over to him, aware of how exhausted I sounded.

  He shut his book, bringing his large eyes to look up at me.

  "Hello, Miss. You is not looking so good today," he said.

  "Tonight," I corrected without thinking about it, fighting the urge to wince. Raven's reprimand was in the back of my mind, that I should cut Fred more slack as far as the language barrier was concerned
. Was it hard for him to speak English, did he find the language limited compared to what he was used to? I wanted to know what language was his mother tongue, but I already knew that it would be so far above anything I could possibly wrap my head around that I didn't bother. "Yeah, I had another nightmare."

  His lips tugged down in a frown, and if he had eyebrows they would have met one another. "You is not being good to yourself. Is not all your fault, the evil things that happen in the world. Why is you not understanding that?"

  I sighed. "That's just not how the human mind works, Fred. We have a lot of guilt, for the things that we do and the things that we could have done differently."

  "Is there anythings I can be doing to help?"

  "I was thinking of just distracting myself. Is there anything we could work on together?" I asked.

  "We can makes something," he said, bobbing his head up and down. He put the book on the ground and stood, trotting over to meet me, though I was just a meter or so away from him. "What is you wanting to make?"

  "Hmm, I don't know. Something fun," I said, looking over at the work table. "How about a potion? I don't do a lot of those."

  I hadn't done a lot of learning on the normal wizarding talents that I supposed most others would know about. Not that I didn't have the resources available to learn them; Fred was an excellent teacher and had in fact shown me how to make each one of the foci I had made. I wouldn't have a single wand if it weren't for him, I would still be ripping my soul to shreds trying to fight with my inherent magic.

  Oh yeah, magic hurts like a damned bastard. You try to pull it out of yourself and just use it and your liable to end up blacked out and wishing for death, which will certainly come depending on what you could pull off against whatever enemy you were fighting. If it weren't for the strength foci Aidan had given me—the pentacle that I still wore around my neck, long since tapped out on energy—I had no doubt that I would have gone down in the fight at Tyburn Tree.

  That's why foci are so important, without them you can't pull off the big showy shit, you're stuck with whatever you can think up in the moment. And you try to be creative when you're facing off a troll; it isn't easy. Well, OK, so I didn't know much about that one. I knew that trolls existed, but so far, I had been lucky that they stayed in the Fae realms for the most part. None of them had come out to play in the past two years, but I'd heard rumors, and they were certainly going to be tougher to take down than a vampire or an errant wizard.

  Tougher than a werewolf? I didn't know. Geoff was mostly a good guy, and hadn't done anything other than get in Mal's face so far.

  "Fun," Fred said, staring at me. "You wants a fun potion?"

  "Well, yeah. Nothing horrible."

  "There is not lots of fun things in the world to make. We could makes a love potion?" The imp’s eyes lit up at the idea, a wicked little grin appearing on his face.

  "No!" I said, glaring at him. "We are not making a love potion."

  "Hmph. It would be fun..." He huffed out a sigh and scuffed one foot on the floor. "Fine, truth potion?"

  "Um..." I thought on it for a moment. "I don't see me using a truth potion anytime soon, but it's better than the other options, I suppose. Sure, let's make a truth potion."

  "Yay!" He jumped up and down, dancing a little bit.

  "What goes in it?" I asked as I made my way to the work bench, pulling out a potion bottle from one of the cabinets and setting it in the centre.

  "Lemon extract, alcohols, and dragon's blood!" Fred exclaimed as he followed me, the excitement so clear in his voice that it was hard not to get caught up in it with him.

  "Alcohol?" I asked, giggling.

  "Yes, alcohols." He nodded his head, his face very serious now. "It is making all the humans tell the truth."

  Well, he had me there. Alcohol could do dangerous things given to the right person, so I could see it having an application here.

  "All right, then, one 'alcohol' coming right up."

  I left the basement, walking back up the stairs and heading to the kitchen. I pulled out a bottle of tequila, eyeing it for a moment. Ah, what could it hurt? It would help me sleep later. I poured myself a shot and necked it, shaking my head, and fighting the shiver that threatened to wrack my shoulders as it burned its way down my throat. I carried the bottle down with me, avoiding Fred's judgmental eyes.

  How the heck did he always know everything? It was a little creepy. I was still uncertain as to how he had known about the demonic power within me, but it didn't matter. He knew, Raven knew, Mal knew, and I was intending on keeping the list of people who knew about it that short. I didn't want Emily finding out, and I didn't see any reason to tell Shawn unless it became an issue between the two of us.

  It was hard to tell what was the demon's rage and what was mine, because I'd always had a short temper, so I wasn't even sure how much it was affecting me...

  I pushed the thought out of my mind and plunked the bottle down beside the potion bottle.

  "All right. Dragon's blood, you said?"

  "Yep, yep, yep!"

  I opened and shut several cabinet doors as I rifled through the supplies—Aidan had kept the place well stocked, and so far, I hadn't needed to leave and go get anything more than the small supplies, things that could be found around London. I had no idea how I would ever get dragon's blood if I ran out and ended up needing to get more, but I was willing to cross that bridge when I got to it. No doubt Fred would know what to do when that time came. I pulled out a small bottle with a hard to read, handwritten label, Dragon's Blood. Lemon extract was one of those simple things that was kept in a main cabinet, easy to replace, no work needed on that one. I pulled it out as well.

  "All right, let's get to work."

  "Yes, yes, work time!" Fred was so happy just to be doing something.

  "Is there an order to this?" I asked, glancing at him. It was a little embarrassing how little I knew about making potions, but I could trust Fred not to poke fun at me.

  You would think you'd be nicer to the person who doesn't mock you. I cringed a little as soon as the thought entered my mind. I knew it was right. I should be better to Fred. I wanted to be, and I was going to try.

  "Mmm, yes," Fred said, coming to the work table, grasping the edge with both hands as he stood on tip toe to look at what I was doing. "The lemony and the alcohols goes in first, and stir, stir, stir for five minutes. Then you puts the dragon blood in and snap it goes with your magic. Has to sits for twelve hours, and then is good to go!"

  Hm. Sounded simple enough. Of course, it was the snap of my magic that made it a potion. Not just anyone could create these things, although I suppose if you had the right amount of know how you might be able to coax the latent magic that was within everyone and get it to work.

  "All right, so we'll get a mixing bowl first..." I said, reaching into the cabinet, pulling out a bowl and spoon. I measured out a few tablespoons of lemon extract and poured it into the bowl. I then applied a healthy amount of tequila—OK, more than a healthy amount. Fred hadn't said how much was necessary, and I knew from experience that there was a threshold you had to hit drinking tequila before all your secrets came tumbling out.

  I began to stir the mixture, glancing over at Fred as I did so.

  "So how are you feeling about this whole succubus thing?" I asked.

  He shrugged his little shoulders. "Is not a big deals. Will blow over just like everything is always doing. Not so hard, Miss, don't mix so hard."

  I slowed down, trying not to beat the crap out of the mixture. I didn't know what I was doing, but that was what Fred was there for. He was a good, patient teacher, and I was grateful for his presence.

  "You're not worried about it?" I asked, frowning. "It seems important."

  "Miss. I has seen much worse things than a succubus." He sounded offended that I hadn't realised that.

  My cheeks flamed a little and I nodded my head. Of course he had. Who even knew how old he was? I certainly didn't. Raven said th
at he had watched the rise and fall of several species, that he had been around for ages. He had to have seen worse things, I should have realised that.

  "OK. But in comparison to what is going on now, it's sort of a big deal, don't you think?"

  Fred tapped one of his long fingers against his lips, thinking for a moment. "Yes, I s'pose it is. Succubus can do a lot of harm if its let loose in public like this one."

  "Have you ever seen one act like this?"

  "Oh yes, of course, loads and loads."

  "Loads?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "How have you seen loads?"

  He glowered at me in response.

  "Ach. Right. Old. OK, so what was up with them last time?"

  "Addicted," he said, nodding his head solemnly. "They was addicted to whatever souls they was after. Worst is when they is addicted to the human souls, because they is so many of them! But is maybe not so good to be addicted to vampire souls either, because those souls is strong and powerful and succubus is taking in the power of the souls they drink."

  Hm, that was a new little titbit of information. I hadn't realised that they gained the power of the soul they took in, but I suppose in a way it made sense. They had to have something that fuelled them, why wouldn’t it be what they ate?

  "So, you're saying we probably have a succubus that is addicted...to the souls of practitioners." I stopped stirring for a moment, my eyes wide as I thought about what I had just said. Addicted to the souls of practitioners? Well, we were all well and truly fucked if that was the case.

  "Yes, is most likely scenario. Could also be's that this succubus is young and stupid, though. That's happened before, they've dones that. Not understood or cared for the rules, gone about like crazy things, and done whatever they is wanting to do. Is not good for the community, of courses."

  "Hm. I think I would almost prefer young and dumb," I muttered, and began stirring again. Stupid, adolescent succubus sounded much preferable to an old one that had turned to an addiction. Old always meant more powerful in the magical community, old meant that you had gone through the time necessary to amass knowledge and power, and that was dangerous. A succubus that was too stupid to realise that the rules were there to protect them would be much easier to deal with.