Shadow Magic (Darkling Mage 1)

The park was just up ahead. Theoretically I could have stepped into any of the shadows leading up to that point, but that would have limited my options for exits. This way I could operate by line of sight, and the wide expanse of Heinsite Park gave me plenty of choices and opportunities for escape. If only I had the presence of mind to dress in darker colors. I really liked black, too, just that I decided against it, oh, two nights ago.

It struck me then, that it had been that long since I’d had a change of clothes, a shower, or hell, a decent night’s sleep. I shrugged those thoughts away, making a mental promise to always, always, always dress in black in the future, especially for excursions and infiltrations. What the hell was I doing dressing in a light gray hoodie when I went to steal the Book of Plagues? I shook my head. Never again. And that was, of course, still contingent on whether I survived the night.

The cold air ripped at my lungs as I ran. I finally gave myself a second to glance over my shoulder, and my heart puttered when I saw that the two men were within leaping distance, the hypothetical vampire just paces ahead of the guy who looked like he could break me in half over his knee. Now or never. I picked my entry point – just under a nearby tree – and fixed on an exit, right by a dead lamppost, some twenty feet away. I stepped.

The chill of the night went chillier, and the cries of surprise from my pursuers went muted just as soon as I entered the shadows. Everything was muffled, as it always was, and chaotic, with the swirls of blackness enveloping, clouding my vision.

But what stood out to me was how much harder it was to breathe, a combination, I guessed, of how I’d been running and was naturally out of breath, and the fact that I was making a much longer step for the first time. I fought the doubt taking over me, any thought that I would fail to make the leap, because what use was successfully evading my pursuers if it meant I’d done so by shunting myself deep into a brick wall?

Moments later I emerged from the Dark Room. I could breathe again. The men’s voices came from much further away. Good. I’d put some distance between us. I felt light-headed, disoriented, but at least I was safe, and – I patted at my limbs, at my face, just to be sure – probably in one piece. I gave myself a scant few seconds to catch my breath, then turned again to check on my stalkers, and yes, maybe I briefly considered taking just enough time to give them the finger.

The bigger man, Gil, was some fifteen feet away, where he should have been, but the other one was streaking towards me, his body a blur, a horrific silver arrow shooting unerringly in my direction, legs pumping, and one hand outstretched. When he was only a few feet away, I heard him snarl.

“No,” I muttered. “No no no,” a string of murmured panic as I turned around and ran into the nearest shadow I could find. How had he caught up to me so quickly? I heard him shout in frustration as I blinked out of view again, and this time I didn’t even know where I was headed, only that it had to be away from him, away from them.

I stumbled through the Dark Room, through the shuddering mists, the shadows closing in on me, becoming heavier and heavier. And when I could no longer breathe, when the chill had sucked the air and the warmth from me, skin and bone, I tripped and fell headlong into the light.

Regaining my bearings, I looked around. I was still in the park, this time shifted several dozen feet away from the last point. Gil was hurtling towards me, the change in direction taking some wind out of his velocity, but his partner was nowhere in sight. I clenched my fists, testing my limits, but no go. I knew I couldn’t shadowstep anymore. I was out of steam.

Crap. I summoned what strength I had left – zero sleep, a full stomach, and more numerous, much larger steps than I’d ever taken – and put one foot in front of the other. It was a spirited attempt to break into a full run, I thought, until the canopy of trees above my head started rustling.

Something pale sprang out of the darkness and crushed me, knocking the wind out of my lungs and sending me sprawling across the cement. I had scuffed up my knees, that was for sure, and there was a sharp pain in my elbow, but I knew that wouldn’t matter much compared to what these lunatics had in store for me.

One of the man’s knees dug into my breastbone.

“Can’t. Breathe.”

“Hmm?” the man said, feigning disinterest. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my balls breaking.” He tugged at his hair, picking a leaf out of it, grimacing. “That was very sneaky of you.”

“Not sorry,” I sputtered out.

“Real cute.” The man placed a hand, fingers splayed, across my chest. He was light, the weight of him barely noticeable as he straddled my body. Still, something in how he incapacitated me as easily as he would pin a child to the ground suggested that fighting my way out would end very, very painfully.

Heavy footsteps told me that Gil had finally caught up to us. He panted, wiping at his beard with the back of his hand, brows knitted in anger.

“He wants him alive,” Gil said.

He? Who was he? Who wanted me alive?

“I know that,” the man on top of me snapped. “Just – let me have this one. A tiny little snack.” His lips parted, and this time I saw his canines descending, two inhumanly sharp fangs protruding from his top row of perfect teeth.

“So you – you really are a vampire,” I stammered. He could probably feel my heart pounding under his hand.

The man rolled his eyes. “Brilliant deduction. You made me work up a sweat, little Hound. Got me all thirsty. I just want to take a quick sip. Haven’t had me some magical blood in a minute.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Gil hissed, looking around like he was worried someone might see.

“Shush, Gil. Just a little bite.” He smiled at me. “You don’t mind, do you?” The man parted his lips, his teeth silver in the moonlight, and he bent down. His breath smelled like lilacs.

“Die in a fire,” I grunted.

I struggled and bucked, and on reflex, my hand went to my throat, as if that could have been enough to protect me. But my fingers brushed against the leather thong of my necklace, and then against the opal dangling from it. I didn’t even have time to think of anything to say, but the connection must have held up, because the transmission of thought and emotion was instantaneous, immediate.

“Fuck,” I thought, in a flash of wild panic.

Thea’s reply came lightning fast: “You dumb idiot.”

Now, here was the thing about the Lorica’s higher-ups, the executives, the Scions, call them what you like. They didn’t like us grunts knowing exactly they could do in the arcane department. Knowledge is power, as the saying goes, and the smartest way to counter someone magically was to grasp what they were capable of, the way a less than scrupulous coach might go and record an opposing team’s game or routine.