 
### The Gift of Fury

Richard Jackson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Richard Jackson

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#  Prologue

I open my eyes to see an orderly standing close to my bed. I didn't hear him enter the room or approach my bedside. Kara, my guardian angel, is urging me to move when I notice two things that tell me exactly how much trouble I'm in: the pillow in his left hand and the knife in his right. Not standard issue hospital equipment even for "difficult" patients.

I let him take a take a step closer before I am all over him like a pit bull on a pork chop. I can't be nice or sporting about this. He's got a lot of things going for him, too many for me to take any chances or to hold back. He's armed and I'm not. I'm hurt and he isn't. I plan on changing that in the near future. I guess now would be a good time to mention I'm no stranger to violence. We aren't close personal friends and to be honest, I try to avoid it. When it drops by for an unexpected visit, I try to get it over with as quickly as possible.

I ignore the searing pain in my right knee and the damage I am probably doing to it. I focus on the matter at hand. I think and act. A technique I learned over four years ago is used to immobilize his arm and gives me control of the knife. A blow I have thrown countless times in the air and in sparring class drives the wind out of my attacker. The driving elbow strike I've used to break boards now breaks bones. Just like that, the fight is over.

With my blood pumping, I feel the rush, the thrill of victory. Maybe it's the way the adrenaline affects me or maybe I'm just a little nuts, but every breath is that much sweeter. It feels good to be alive. I become aware of Kara again. Her comforting presence fills me with warmth. The only thing better would be sex.

" _You're bleeding,_ " she says via the magic of our link. Even after all this time together, I don't know how or why it works. All that matters to me is that it does.

I shrug, looking down at my arm and the rip in my hospital gown. That's the problem with knife fights. Someone always gets cut. Still, it doesn't look bad if you can ignore all the blood. " _I'm alright._ "

" _You're a bad liar,_ " she says.

She's worried, but I can't help but smile. Nothing can touch me. I'm alive despite someone's best efforts. " _Don't worry. I'm in a hospital._ "

Kara doesn't laugh. Instead, she whispers, " _This isn't over. Others will come for you._ "

That brings me crashing down to earth. Someone wants me dead in a big way, big enough to send someone to kill me. Big enough to try it in a hospital filled with potential witnesses and guards. The pain, no longer content to be ignored, returns with a vengeance and my knee buckles. As I fall to the floor, I hear Kara say, " _Rest...._ "

I nod and close my eyes with Kara's thoughts to keep me company as I descend into the darkness.

" _You'll be free soon,_ " she says.

#  Chapter One

I open my eyes and immediately, I regret it. I think hospitals and infirmaries have bright lights to torture their patients. At least that's what it feels like. I close my eyes again.

" _Rise and shine._ "

Ordinarily, I like hearing Kara's voice. This time is no exception. I smile and focus on her instead of the pain in my head. I can tell she's relieved. For several moments, I just lie there basking in the feeling before I ask the first of many questions troubling me. " _How long have I been out?_ "

" _Two days,_ " She says.

That throws me. I must have been worse off than I had thought. It shouldn't surprise me. It's been a rough week. Rough enough for me to spend time in a hospital. My buddy with the pillow and the knife didn't help matters.

" _They had to operate on your knee and stitch you up. I didn't want to wake you unless it was an emergency._ "

Nothing I can say to that. I know how much she worries about me. Sometimes it scares me that she cares so much about me. It goes beyond just being my guardian angel.

" _You said that I would be free soon? Are they going to let me walk out here?_ "

Kara doesn't answer immediately. She's holding something back, deciding what to tell me. Sometimes it bothers me but I've learned to trust her. When she does answer, she sounds tired. More tired than I have ever heard her.

" _Trust your feelings. They won't lead you astray._ "

Cryptic but sound advice for most occasions, I'm not sure how much it will help me in this situation. Maybe she will tell me more later on, after I rest and heal. I resist the urge to press her for details. She's always done right by me.

"Get some rest. I'll be fine."

Kara doesn't argue. I would bet my last dollar she's probably been watching over me since the attack. I can sense her nodding off before she is gone, off to wherever she goes when she is not with me.

One of the nurses gives me a curious look. It's the sort of look someone might give a wild animal or crazy person. I must have been talking out loud again. At least this time, I can blame it on the meds and my injuries. As the nurse leaves my room, she gives me another look. I can't help but wonder what she might have heard. No. I have more important things to think about. I need some answers to the questions that are going to be tossed my way. It's only natural. Someone tries to kill you, people ask questions. You beat someone down; people ask why even if the reason is blatantly obvious. Hell, I'm surprised the police weren't at my bedside waiting for me to wake up. No worries. They'll be here, it's only a matter of time and they'll ask the same questions I am asking myself. Who wants me dead and why?

I admit I have a few enemies. You can't go through life without making at least one enemy. The problem is that none of my enemies hate me enough to pull a stunt like this. Sure, some of them would like to see me hurt or dead but they want to either do it themselves or in a way that won't attract attention. The only one that comes to mind has been dealt with. No, this has to be someone or something else. It has to be. Maybe, answering the 'why' might give me a clue as to who wants me dead but I'm coming up empty. If Kara was here, I could bounce a few ideas off of her head.

***

It's just after I finish a blander than usual lunch when I learn my assailant is in a lot worse condition than I am. I should feel bad but I don't. Don't get me wrong, I'm not jumping for joy either. Hurting people isn't something I enjoy but I can only feel so broken up about someone who tried to murder me. He pissed away any goodwill that I might have had towards him the moment he decided to kill me. Granted, I'm assuming he meant to kill me but it's a safe bet. Call me silly but knives and pillows aren't the sort of tools you use in any civilized conversation, even in New York. Some touchy feely types might not agree with me or call me a Neanderthal. I'll be the first to admit my views aren't main stream when it comes to a number of things. That doesn't mean I'm a nutcase who goes out of his way to pick fights. Violence is a last resort. The problem with last resorts is that if it doesn't work, you're officially out of options; that's why anything you are saving for that moment has to work. After all, it is your last resort. If you use it and it fails, you're done. There's nothing left. It's one of the reasons why I learned the martial arts. If that makes me a throwback or worse, so be it. What really bothers me is how much I have had to fall back on my last resort within the last few days.

I look up as the authorities arrive, trying to hide my surprise. They definitely aren't NYPD. Anyone can see that. The three of them, two men and a woman, look too clean cut and regular, as if carved from the same mold. Their look and demeanor scream the word "Fed." I'm not sure if it is a good thing or not.

They introduce themselves: Special Agent Lynch, Special Agent Marino and Doctor Bolland. I've never been good with names. In this case the names aren't as important as the titles: two special agents and one doctor. Despite popular belief, FBI special agents aren't called in for just any case. Sure they investigate a lot of crimes but most of their work deals with national security and cases where local law enforcement need assistance.

After some meaningless chitchat about my stay here and my health, we get down to brass tacks. They're all business and little warmth, especially Agent Lynch. It seems like he is going out of his way to distance himself from me as he verifies my contact information. It's nothing that he says, it's what he does. He stands there at the foot of my bed with his arms folded across his chest. No, it goes deeper than that. Something is bothering him. Not just him, all of them. I see it in the little things they do and the looks they give one another. Whatever game plan or strategy they had went out the window some time ago.

Even without Kara being here, alarm bells start to ring. They didn't come here about the orderly. No, they had scheduled this visit before I was attacked. That puts things in a new and dangerous light. I take a chance and break the routine to ask a question.

"What's this all about?"

Who knows, I might even get a straight answer. The main thing is to get them talking. I need to know what's going on. I can't afford to be in the dark. Several moments go by before one of them speaks, the woman. I struggle to remember her name, Marino. That was it.

"Mr. Albritton, are you acquainted with Scott Dorward?"

I could lie, but what's the point? Lying to federal agents carries a lot more risks than rewards. Odds are they already know the answer. It's an interviewer's trick. You ask a question you already know the answer to. It gives you the opportunity to gauge the person you're talking to and measure their response. It's a tactic I've used from time to time when I'm working a case. More often than not, it opened up a line of investigation that hadn't occurred to me before. I decide to go with the truth. "Yes."

Most people would be a bit surprised that I know Scott. Granted, he gets a lot more press coverage in Europe, but his name and face pop up from time to time either in the tabloids or on one of those entertainment programs. What he lacks in looks, he makes up for with his sharp wit and killer British accent. Not to say he is ugly or anything like that, but he's no golden boy. A bit too pale, his hair and eyes are just a little too dark to be considered attractive in most circles. Personality goes a long way and Scott has plenty of that. It and his father's connections helped him become a minor celebrity.

What the media doesn't know is that Scott Dorward is probably one of the most knowledgeable men on the planet when it comes to the occult and magic. If it's been researched or studied, Scott knows something about it. He believes the old adage 'knowledge is power' and it's something he has plenty of. Scott is a sorcerer, meaning he is able to use magic and cast spells.

Sorcerers are a lot like doctors. Most are general practitioners. They know a little bit about everything. Others are specialists who choose to concentrate on or study one area. Witches and warlocks study witchcraft. Ritualists are sorcerers who specialize in ritualistic magic, the kind that needs a lot of preparation. Necromancers perform necromancy. You get the idea.

Marino smiles, it's the same sort of smile I wear when I am working on a case and feel like I am on the right track. I think I know where she might be going with this. This isn't my first time being interviewed by the authorities.

"How would you characterize your relationship with him?"

"We're friends but not close," I reply. It's true enough. I had the good fortune to met Scott back when I got started in this business. We've been friends ever since. Not best friends, but good enough to be able count on one another. Sometimes, he tosses work my way, extremely well paying work though I prefer to work for Solomon the Wise. Even sorcerers of Scott and Sol's caliber need a little help from time to time. When Scott needs help, he is willing and able to pay well for it. Such jobs are never dull but after everything is said and done, you feel like you were underpaid. The last little favor I did for him resulted in this hospital stay and a few other far reaching consequences.

"And what is his involvement with Meredith?" she asks.

I open my mouth then close it. Meredith is someone I would like to forget. By all rights, he should be in no position to do no harm. He was the first person to come to mind when I was thinking about who wanted me dead. Now, the Feds are here asking questions about him and Scott. It's no coincidence. What and how much do they know? They probably know more than they should. It also means I could be in a lot more trouble than I thought. They could probably figure everything out, but odds are they will jump to the wrong conclusion. So what do I tell them?

I look at Agent Marino and try to get a feel for her. My instincts battle with the cold rational part of me. I should ask for a lawyer and keep my mouth shut. It would be the smart thing to do, but it doesn't feel right. Marino and her partners are here for answers, no matter how strange they might sound. If they don't get them then no lawyer in the world will be able to save me.

"Maybe I should start at the beginning."

"Go on," She says.

"First off, I'm not crazy. Okay, I know it looks bad and that popular opinion is probably against me, but what I have to say is the truth. It all started last Tuesday......"

#  Chapter Two

My last case paid surprisingly well. For the first time in weeks, my creditors were not a problem. I could actually afford to take a night off and relax. As I got ready to go out, the evening news plays in the background. The news of the day washes over me, not making an impact. It is seen and heard but not felt. I'm not sure if it's just me or if this is something we're all guilty of. No matter the source of the news, be it television, radio, the newspaper, internet or word of mouth, I receive it with a sense of detachment. Maybe it's a defense mechanism to cope with all the information at the tip of our fingertips. I'm desensitized to the news and its relevance unless it affects me in some tangible way. Is it human nature or is it just a character flaw too many people possess?

Tragedy mixes with peppy human interest stories designed to put a happy face on another all too bleak day. An earthquake rocks the Philippines. A fire guts an apartment building in Brooklyn. Another body turns up in Alphabet City. It's the second one this week and it's only Tuesday. The Mass Transit Authority announces more cutbacks making the threat of a transit strike all the more likely in the not too distant future. Entrepreneur Jack Meredith is being interviewed about his plan to revitalize the South Bronx. You learn something new every day. I never knew revitalizing a neighborhood meant kicking people out onto the street and turning their homes into condos. If that wasn't bad enough, he makes a point to mention all of his accomplishments and his plans for the future. He calls it a better tomorrow, one where he is undoubtedly richer and more powerful. It goes on and on. I nearly miss it, a break in at 25 Sutton Place.

Kara catches it a second before I do, " _Isn't that Scott's building?_ "

I turn up the sound as a picture of Scott at a recent charity event is flashed across the screen. He seems completely at ease, standing amid some of New York's other philanthropists in one of his Neo-Victorian suits. The newswoman recites a blurb about Scott before moving on to details about the attempted robbery. She doesn't have any real details, just enough to peak one's interest. If I want to learn anything, I need to get over there. Calling Scott won't work. He has this thing about phones, he doesn't like or trust them. It's one of the quirks that make him Scott Dorward. I remember asking him about it, He merely said anything important enough to tell someone is better done in person or by messenger. In a day and age where communication on the go is getting easier and easier, Scott clings to the habits of the past. Course, he isn't stupid. He does have a cell phone which he will only use in the direst of emergencies. I have the number. Thankfully, I've never had to use it.

I finish pulling on my long coat and check my pockets for the few tools I always carry, before I head out the door. At this time of night, I shouldn't have any trouble getting a cab cross town.

***

A half an hour and twelve dollars later, I wonder what I've gotten myself into. I never should have come here. I'm not a detective. It's something I always try to remind myself whenever I think about taking a case. I let my concern get the better of me, something that happens too often when one of my few friends is in trouble. Despite my feelings about sorcerers, I consider Scott a friend.

Like I said before, I'm no detective. I call myself a paranormal investigator. I even have a piece of paper to prove it. Don't be too impressed by that. The damn thing isn't worth the paper it's printed on. It does come in handy especially around tax time. The IRS likes to be able to link your income with some sort of profession.

If you think I chase UFO's, investigate haunted houses or hunt monsters, you would be half-right. I leave that stuff to the professionals. Most of my fellow PIs use scientific method and technology to help them investigate the paranormal. My way is a lot different. I always thought using mundane methods and tools put you at a disadvantage when dealing with the supernatural. It's why ghost hunters and other paranormal investigators have such a hard time proving the existence of something supernatural. I'm not out to prove or disprove anything.

Early on, I realized people go to the authorities for assistance with something they think is supernatural or related to it. You might be surprised by how often this happens. Their reasons for doing so vary. It could be something as simple as a strange sound in their home to a mother afraid her son is involved with a cult conducting human sacrifice to a woman who thinks she is being stalked by a vampire. Most of the time, the authorities turn them away.

That's where I come in. These people don't need the help of a sorcerer or a ghost hunter. They need someone who knows, or at least has an idea about, whatever might be going on and how to solve the problem. Even if I can't solve the problem, I'm fairly good at research and I probably know someone who can help them.

After a lot of trial and error, I developed a knack for the cases that need someone with my talents. Something jumps out at you when you hear the details. Something says, "Pick me, Monty! Pick me!!" It also helps having Kara around to guide me. Sometimes she can pick up on things I miss. Nine times out of ten, I end up referring my potential clients to someone else who can help them. The rest keep life interesting and pay the bills.

With the police combing the scene, there is no way I am getting up to Scott's apartment. Even if I could, it's unlikely I would be able to talk to him in private. I'm about ready to leave when I notice Hagan standing off to the side, well away from the police and the crowds.

Depending on how you translate it, his name means 'the youthful one' or 'highborn'. He says he is immortal. I say he's crazy, not that I'm a great judge of such things. Still the big man does come in handy from time to time. He has a love of battle and adventure which reminds me of the warriors of old. So does his skill with weapons.

"Hagan," I say, trying not to smile as I give him the quick once over. "Still looking to go to Valhalla?"

He laughs before replying with his usual counter, "Still hearing voices, Count?"

Hagan also knows a lot more than he should. He's one of the few people who know about Kara. As he puts it, one of the perks of immortality is being able to learn a little about everything. In his case that includes at least six languages and enough history to lend credence to his claims. I think he spends too much time reading when he's not out bouncing or busting heads. That was how we met, he was bouncing in a bar and I was working on my first case when literally all hell broke loose. He had the time of his life while I was scared to death. Since then, we've helped each other out on occasion. His muscle and willingness to use it, as well as his talent for languages, have made the difference. When I asked him why he's always willing to lend me a hand, he told me I was his ticket to Valhalla. That worries me more than his presence here or the fact he is armed. Only Hagan would be crazy enough to carry a weapon around this many police. The spiked club hanging from his belt might be more legal than a sword or axe. Even with my untrained eye, I can tell the weapon has been used recently despite Hagan's attempt to clean it. Crazy or not, like me, Hagan connected to the paranormal. He's not a sorcerer or anything like that, but he can hold his own against almost anything that lurks in the shadows. His presence here tells me what I already know. This isn't a normal burglary.

Kara laughs at the two of us as we go through our ritual greeting, probably wondering if the two of us will ever grow up. I'm sure Hagan thinks I'm as crazy as he is, and Kara, well Kara has her own ideas about the two of us and our little quirks. " _Tell tall, blond, and handsome, hello._ "

"Yeah, Kara says hello," I leave out the compliment. It doesn't pay to boost Hagan's ego and it's one of my quirks. I don't call other men handsome. Certain guys are a bit touchy about that sort of thing and might take it the wrong way. He turns and starts walking downtown, probably heading for one of the many bars he knows. I fall into step next to him, not bothering to ask why he's here. I learned not to rush Hagan. He'll say what's on his mind when he's good and ready, not a moment sooner. It's another one of those so-called perks immortality has given him, the ability to waste time.

Hagan stops outside a bar with no name. Looking at the place brings to mind the phrase "Two men enter, one man leaves." The front is decorated with twisted bits of scrap metal and things that would be more at home in a junkyard than the streets of Manhattan. Even with the door closed, I can hear the driving beat and lyrics of Rammstein. I'm about to open the door to see what the inside is like when Hagan reaches into a pocket for something.

"Dorward is going to be busy explaining things to the police. They're going to ask him how his visitors ended up in critical condition."

"I'm sure you had nothing to do with that."

By way of reply, Hagan shrugs. He doesn't look the least bit guilty or burdened by the fact that he bludgeoned several people nearly to death a short time ago. "Anyway, when Dorward was done ranting at me, he told me to give you this."

When I see his hand again, it is holding an antique gold ring. The stone is dark green and from memory, I remember the red spots resembling drops of blood that decorate its face. I make no attempt to reach for the Bloodstone. I had told Scott this thing was dangerous and I wanted no part of it. I'm not sure if Hagan can feel the power locked within it. For me, touching it is like dipping my hand into greasy water. That's nowhere near as bad as tapping into its power. As far as I know, I am the only person in recent memory to do so and it's not an experience I want to repeat.

Reluctantly, I accept the damn thing and Hagan looks relieved. As expected, the greasy sensation is there, yet this time it's stronger. Kara likes it less than I do and doesn't hesitate to share her thoughts on the matter.

"It feels wrong."

I'm inclined to agree with her. I glance back at Hagan waiting for the rest of it.

"Don't give me that look. I don't know what he was trying to do with it. He just hired me to play bodyguard," Hagan says.

The fact Scott wanted backup doesn't surprise me. A while back I heard he tried to do some sort of summoning and it didn't go as planned. Since then, he prefers to have some backup when he experiments. Sometimes, he works with Sol, another sorcerer and someone else I consider a friend. Most people call him Solomon the Wise because of his extensive library and knowledge when it comes to the practical uses of magic. The fact he chose Hagan does surprise me. Scott would only hire Hagan if there was a need for cold steel and the willingness to use it.

"He was expecting trouble" Hagan says "The three gents who kicked down his door while he was doing his magic thing didn't expect me to be there. Two of them were pushovers, the other one was an ogre. He took a little longer to deal with."

It must not have been a very good workout for him but the ogre concerns me. There aren't too many of them around. They tend to shy away from big cities. The ones that call the cities their home are rough customers who lurk in the back alleys and seedier parts of town. They possess a wide range of magical powers for blending in with their surroundings. Most like playing at being gang leaders or hired muscle.

"After the ogre took off, Dorward told me to get out of there with the ring. I think he was afraid the police might confiscate it or something. He said you would take care of it."

Hagan steps into the bar, not bothering to say good bye or say what I already know. Call him if I need him. It makes me feel better, despite the vibes I keep getting from the ring and this whole deal. What the hell has Scott gotten himself into? Whatever is going on, I'm now involved in it.

Kara remains silent as I flag down a cab. Jake's will be the perfect place to enjoy what's left of my night and maybe have a few questions answered. If I'm going to play babysitter with this thing, I want to know more about it. Only one person can help me with that.

#  Chapter Three

Jake's manages to steal the attention and clientele from all the other bars along this stretch of Amsterdam Avenue. Its dark interior sports a younger crowd but the scenery is to die for. Not only are the bartenders extremely well endowed. They also know how to make a killer margarita. The lower level has a huge dance floor where a DJ works his magic. It even earns bonus points for its lounge where you can talk and enjoy the company of friends without losing your hearing.

Tuesday night is a quiet night. There is no line to get in or cover charge. It's still pretty crowded but not crowded enough that I have to fight my way to the bar or battle for the attention of the bartender. All in all, it's a good place to hang out in. Tonight, I have an ulterior motive for coming here. This is one of Nerva's favorite hangouts. I can usually find her here, breaking hearts and stealing souls on the dance floor. She collects dance partners and playmates like young boys used to collect baseball cards, always increasing her collection while discarding or trading away the ones who no longer interest her. She says she is a vampire and I believe her.

I don't deal much with vampires. It's unhealthy to hang around anyone or thing that views you as a potential meal. I also steer clear of most lawyers and landlords for the same reason. Yes, vampires do exist. Don't ask me how many there are. I couldn't tell you. I'm not a great authority on them but I've had enough encounters with them to know a few things about them. First off, you have to forget about all that nonsense you might have seen in the movies or on television. Contrary to popular belief, most vampires don't dress in black capes and tuxedos or sound like Bela Lugosi. They may or may not fit the more fashionable stereotypes of handsome men and beautiful women dressed in stunning black outfits. They can look like anyone you might meet on the street and they dress to individual taste. A select few are blood drinkers but that isn't the norm. Simply put, a vampire is any being who draws life and energy from another living person. Every culture has stories about vampires and the undead, each one with different powers and abilities.

Some can feed from you without your ever knowing about it. These vampires will either feed off a lot of people at once, taking a little energy from each victim or they feed very slowly from a single person. Others can and will leave you bone tired - or worse a burned out corpse to be found by the authorities. What they feed on also varies; some absorb what I like to call life energy through close, sometimes intimate contact while others feed off of emotions or even dreams. The few blood drinkers I've run into resemble the vampires most depicted by the media.

Each vampire also has some way or talent to make sure they can attract potential meals without much of a fuss. Many are extremely charismatic while others gravitate to professions and lifestyles where they can feed without attracting attention. There was a vampire I met in St. Louis who fed on grief. He worked as a funeral director. Are they alive, dead or something else? It depends on the vampire. Most of them are alive but not in the same way you and I are.

Nerva is more alive than anyone I know. Too bad, she isn't here yet. It's only a matter of time before she puts in an appearance. Waiting here for her is better than trying to chase her down. It gives me a chance to relax and digest everything Hagan told me. I do some of my best thinking in bars. The steady supply of alcohol helps. Despite the noise and crowds, I can turn my thoughts inward to solve a problem with the people and events around me to serve as inspiration.

I keep saying I'm no detective, but I do have some experience when it comes to solving mysteries and problems. Everyone has their own style and way of doing things. I like to look at the facts and people involved to see how they fit. The trick is to answer the big questions. What happened and where? Who was involved and why? How did it happen? For problem solving, I add another question. What is the best way to solve this? Sometimes I have to answer a few smaller questions to get the answers to the bigger ones.

I think about everything I know about my friend. Scott isn't stupid. He knows the ring is dangerous and he's good enough at what he does not to take any chances. So why would he mess with the ring?

Kara chimes in, " _He had no choice._ "

That isn't a comforting thought. It causes me to flag down the bartender to make sure my next margarita is given an extra topping of tequila. Scott had no choice. It might explain why the Bloodstone feels so tainted.

" _You should have kept it,_ " Kara says.

" _We've been through this before. It's dangerous. I have no business carrying around something like this, let alone using it._ "

" _Scott felt you should, otherwise you wouldn't have it now._ "

Sometimes, there is no arguing with her. Hagan said Scott was worried about the police confiscating the ring. Why give it to me and not Sol or another sorcerer? There is a sense of satisfaction from across the link but no answer to my question. I'm missing something. I pull out the Bloodstone to take a better look at it. The antique gold ring was made for a man. When I gave the ring to Scott, he said it was made during the Victorian era but the stone was much older. Looking at it now, I wonder how much older. The dark green bloodstone mounted on the ring looks different, not like how I remembered it. The red drops of color are more prominent on the stone's surface. I feel dirty just touching the thing. It is enough to make me shudder. Still it had to be done. Kara's senses are better than mine, or more accurately, she knows what to look for since she is using my senses when we are linked this way. Whatever sensations I am getting from the ring are probably worse for her.

"It's gotten stronger."

I've known Kara long enough to catch the sense of worry and unease she is trying to hide from me. It's been a little over an hour since Hagan gave me the ring. I can see why Scott was worried, but why give it to me? I'll have to ask him about it when I see him.

I put the ring away and try to forget about it. Kara relaxes a bit while I sip my drink. There is just enough salt around the rim of my glass to do my margarita justice, then it's time for another one. By the third, I've washed the ring's feel from my memory.

I can almost feel Kara's lips brush my cheek. " _So what do we do about it? It's not safe for you to use._ "

" _I don't want to use it,_ " I take a deep breath, grateful the bar is smoke-free. " _I'll talk to Sol and learn a little more about it. I want to take things slow till I know what I am dealing with._ "

I was going to say destroy, it but I have no idea what might happen if I was able to do so. Destroying a powerful item like the Bloodstone could have serious repercussions. No, it is better to err on the side of caution. Kara breathes a sigh of relief. She was afraid I might do something rash. I don't know why she thinks I need the thing. Whenever I ask her why, I never get a straight answer. Worse comes to worse, I could have someone drop it in the middle of the ocean.

***

It's almost 2 am when Nerva finally arrives. A flicker of jealousy and wariness comes across the link from Kara as I catch her attention. The vampire rushes over and hugs me. During the brief moment of contact, Kara hisses spitefully. Nerva must have taken a tiny taste of me. As usual, I didn't feel a thing. I'm too distracted by her presence.

"You're looking good," I say with a smile. It's the truth. The tiny Brazilian bombshell is dressed to impress in a slinky black outfit and high heels. It shows off her body without being tight enough to interfere with dancing. She laughs as if she doesn't have a care in the world. Nerva knows I'm fairly good at resisting her charms but I'm not immune to them. I don't think any man could be. It's part of the game we play whenever we meet. Kara doesn't like it and I can't really blame her. The link has its downsides. She can tell I'm physically attracted to Nerva. I know it bothers her. Even a guardian angel, no matter how patient and caring, has her limits. She fumes in silence as Nerva's teeth nip at my earlobe.

"Uh huh, you want me?"

Nerva doesn't wait for an answer. She takes the drink out of my hand. Her tongue flicks out to lick the salt from the rim of my glass before drinking the rest of my margarita. Kara is beside herself with anger. I nearly forget why I wanted to speak to her. It wasn't for a night of dancing and wild sex, though the thought does cross my mind. That's part of danger when dealing with Nerva. So far, I've managed to avoid that particular fate because no matter how much fun it would be, it's not worth giving up what I have with Kara.

"I need to see Sol."

Nerva nods slowly, releasing her hold on me. "Is he expecting you?"

I shake my head. Sol is a hard man to see but if anyone would know more about the ring, it would be him. Nerva acts as his personal secretary and sometime bodyguard. There are rumors their relationship is far from platonic. She knows I would only go through her if it was important. I could arrange a meet without her but it would take longer. That doesn't stop her from enjoying herself at my expense. She sets the empty glass down and takes my hand, leading me onto the dance floor.

I do a lot of things well but dancing isn't one of them. I'm good enough not to embarrass myself on most nights. Sometimes having a good partner can make you seem ten times worse or a hundred times better. With Nerva, it's the latter. I follow her lead and the beat of the music. She's having fun, Kara isn't. After the third song, I feign tiredness and Nerva lets me get away with it.

I buy her a drink and start to fill her in on the details now that she is ready to listen. The news catches her by surprise. Not the part about someone breaking into Scott's apartment, by now, most of the major movers and shakers in the city should have heard about that. It's the part about Hagan and the ring that blindsides her. I'm about to start rattling off more details that don't interest her when she holds up a hand to silence me.

"He can see you the day after tomorrow around 4 pm. I'll make the arrangements," she says.

I smile, gratefully. I don't have to say the next few words but I say them anyway, "Thanks, I owe you one."

The way she licks her lips makes me wonder how she plans on collecting.

***

I spend the next hour watching Nerva dance while I start to sober up. It feels like I'm making progress. I decide to leave before last call is announced. I want to get in some practice time at the dojo, so that means I can't afford to stay out much later.

Outside, I nod to the bouncers then turn the corner. It's a nice night for a walk and my apartment isn't far. The exercise will do me some good. I am two blocks away from my building when it happens. Even though it's late, there are plenty of people on the street. Like me, most of them are returning from a busy night on the town. Unlike me, they only see two men step out of the coffee shop and walk in my direction.

One is tall and handsome with strong Germanic features. He could have been a model or a movie star with his good looks. His dark grey suit is tailored. The outfit would have put me back in debt. It was probably pocket change for him. I had never met the man before but I knew who he was. He made me feel uneasy, like I should know him from someplace other than television. His name is Meredith, Jack Meredith, a high wheeling and dealing real estate developer who has been making waves recently. The same Jack Meredith I saw on the news earlier tonight.

To everyone else, the man next to him looked like a mook from a gangster film. To me, the grey-skinned humanoid crammed into a less than stylish suit looked like trouble. This had to be the ogre Hagan was talking about. It wasn't the largest I had ever seen, but big enough to be a problem if I had to fight him. At least, he wasn't armed and from the way he moved, Hagan had put a hurting on him.

This can't be a coincidence or anything good. Kara gives me some more bad news as I take a closer look at Meredith.

" _Careful, he's a sorcerer._ "

Meredith looks and moves like a man half his age, far younger than he appears on television but still recognizable. It's obvious he takes good care of himself. It could be a product of magic but I doubt it. He moves like a fighter, someone who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. The smile he favors me with is an empty thing lacking in warmth and friendship but it's his eyes that worry me. I'm not a person; I'm an obstacle that is in his way.

"So you're the one who got away," He says more to himself than me.

I'm confused and I'm not the only one. Kara is also wondering about that remark. One of my teachers once told me no question is stupid, but this one sure does sound the part. "Have we met?"

Meredith's laughter stings me. "This is rich. You've come full circle and don't even realize it."

The answer doesn't help clear things up. I'm at a disadvantage here and operating in the dark. "So what does the 'great' Jack Meredith want with me?"

"You have something that doesn't belong to you."

I'm about to make a smart comment about stereotypes and clichés when his next words slam into me.

"Albritton, you will give me the Bloodstone." He says it like I have no choice in the matter. I risk a glance at the ogre who seems more than ready and willing to break me in two but he makes no move towards me.

Kara murmurs, " _He's good. I didn't even know he was using magic until the spell touched you._ "

If he just tried to use magic on me then it means he doesn't know as much about me as he thinks. When I don't respond to his words, Meredith's smile falters. I can almost smell the wood burning between his ears as he starts running down all the possible reasons why his spell might have failed. Even when you do everything right, spells like anything else, can fail, especially now. Magic isn't as powerful as it used to be.

It's another thing the books, movies and television get half right. Scott told me a while back magic, like science, follows certain laws. All spells and magical powers take energy. You can find this energy in people, places and things to varying degrees. Most supernatural and magical beings draw this energy from within themselves to do magic, while others are tied to a place or an object. Sorcerers don't have it that easy. They have to harness this energy using complex spells or rituals to work their magic. Sometimes the person or thing they draw the energy from is destroyed in the process. That's what a sacrifice is. Death and destruction can liberate all the magical potential in someone or something. Thankfully, human sacrifice isn't practiced like it was in past.

When you draw energy, you can draw attention. Anyone able to use magic might be able to sense someone else tapping into an energy source if they are close enough. This is especially true if they are sharing a power source such as a ley line, item of power, or whatever. This can be enough warning to defend his or herself, maybe even enough time to counter whatever is being done.

Another rule or law is that all spell casting also takes time and effort. You can't just snap your fingers and make magic. Sometimes it's quicker and easier to use more mundane methods than to use a spell. This is also why most magic is very subtle. There is no room for wasting energy on special effects. When magic has a visible or dramatic effect, it takes far greater energy, time, and effort time than a more subtle spell. For example, the energy used to shoot a jet of flame from your fingertips is far greater than just causing a target to spontaneously combust. The results are the same but in the first case you use a lot of energy producing the flame. Maybe in the old days, flashy magic was the norm. These days magic works almost invisibly.

Meredith's expression hardens as he looks at me. I don't need Kara to tell me what happened, he tried another spell to find out why his command didn't work. It failed just like the first spell did. His mouth opens and then closes; I can tell he wants to ask me how I'm doing this. It's the same reason why the ogre's illusion doesn't fool me. Most magic targeting me is redirected elsewhere. Only the most powerful spells and magical abilities can touch me. It's a very good trick for someone to have in my line of work.

Kara knows what I am going to do next. It's one of my guilty pleasures. Whenever I have the chance to poke fun at someone who is giving me a hard time, I take it. I admit it's a little petty of me. It is useful for keeping people off balance. This is one of those occasions.

"This is a very public place for a mugging and that's the only way you'll get anything out of me. And don't think the ogre in the monkey suit will help you. He'll screw up again like he did at Dorward's place."

It's a risk letting him know the ogre's masking spell isn't working on me, but it has the desired effect. Meredith doesn't bother to hide his surprise. I want him thinking about what else I might be able to do. On the other hand, the ogre takes an angry step forward, one of his large hands reaching out to maim me when Meredith says, "G'rstaka, no."

The ogre obeys reluctantly. It proves beyond a shadow of a doubt Meredith is the one in charge here. As I watch the two of them, Kara remains silent. She doesn't want to distract me unless there is something important to tell me. I'm still in a bad position here. Neither one of these two mean me any good.

Finally, Meredith speaks. His smile is the same one he uses when speaking in front of the masses. It's too late for that. I'm not going to be fooled by it or his words. Not only is he a sorcerer, I can tell he follows a far darker path than Scott's or Sol's. You just don't walk up to someone on the street and do this sort of thing.

"You have a rare talent, Count Albritton."

Damn right, it's rare. According to Sol, I'm the only person he knows of with this sort of power and he knows a lot of people. Too bad I can't control it. It works against all magic spells and abilities, baneful as well as beneficial. I decide to favor him with a smile of my own and a nod.

"You've come farther than I ever imagined, but that does not change anything. You have something I want."

"Yeah well, in a perfect world we would all get what we deserve. Maybe, you'll get what's coming to you." The ogre reacts more to my veiled threat than Meredith so I push a little harder, "You must not be too bright to send an ogre to rob someone."

"G'rstaka wasn't there to steal the ring."

My eyes narrow slightly. Meredith sounds amused. It's obvious he knows something I do not. There is no way I am going to get any straight answers out of him. This is all a game to him, one where he has all the cards. Why is he wasting time? The ogre should be all over me.

Kara says via our link, " _The ring draws magical energy and stores it. Meredith was able somehow able to activate it._ "

"How do you know that?" I ask, not bothering to internalize the question. Inadvertently, my words manage to confuse Meredith and G'rstaka again.

" _He's feeding more energy into the Bloodstone as we speak._ "

Kara is leaving something out but I can't worry about it right now. From experience, I know the Bloodstone can store magical energy. What happens when it reaches its maximum capacity or exceeds it? Something bad happens to most objects that store energy when you overcharge them. That explains why Scott was messing with the ring. It also explains why Meredith sent the ogre to do his dirty work. A flash of anger leaps across the link as Kara sees my line of reasoning.

It's a win-win situation for Meredith. Best case scenario, the ogre gets the ring. Even if the ogre doesn't get the ring, he throws a monkey wrench into the works since Scott would have to deal with the NYPD and a mountain of paperwork. He wouldn't be able to stop Meredith from using the Bloodstone especially if the ring was in police custody.

His laughter mocks me and I realize I'm the one playing the part of the fool. While I stood here and baited him, he was using the time to mess with the ring. I don't know what he hopes to accomplish but the fact he only needs to be close to Bloodstone to manipulate it worries me. Then it hits me, the picture of Scott on the news earlier tonight. Meredith was there at the charity ball. That picture was taken weeks ago.

"Meredith, stop whatever it is you're doing."

"You cannot beat me. The Seven have seen to that."

I don't like the sound of that, not one bit. I like Meredith's triumphant smile even less. I disobey my rule about violence and last resorts. I attack Meredith. My fist forever alters his smile. I'm sure Meredith will look just as good with a gold or false tooth to replace the one I knock out. Me, I have another problem.

Ogres are very good at hurting people. G'rstaka doesn't waste a second; he leaps at the chance to tear me into bloody chunks. He comes in hard and fast using his size and weight. Hagan would have met him head on. Me, I use what's called the "C" to step to the side and launch a counter. My hand is still hurting from punching Meredith in the face. I shouldn't have done that, I let my temper get the better of me. It's not the way I do things.

I make my second mistake of the night. I am thinking about the ring and everything but the mass of muscle looking to fit me with a toe tag. Even though I duck away from the grapple attempt, I am off-balance. The kick I should have avoided with ease lands dead center on my right knee. The pain is exquisite and I am officially hosed. A clubbing overhead right catches me though it's more luck than skill which allows me to roll with the blow as Meredith climbs to his feet. This is not good.

Kara screams a warning in my mind. I move, throwing myself down and to the side away from Meredith, not trusting my gift to save me. The only words I could make out were "death" and "spell", two words that should never be together in the same sentence. A spell like that should be impossible to cast on such short notice. The energy, effort and time required to actually kill someone with a spell is staggering, yet somehow Meredith does it. For a moment, the pain in my chest surpasses that of my knee. My gift saves me, but a passerby isn't so lucky. The redirected spell catches the man. I know he is having a heart attack without even looking at him. Another casualty is the ogre. G'rstaka is gone, consumed by the spell Meredith had cast, a sacrifice.

It takes time for me to pull myself together. Not enough time for Meredith to take the ring from me or to finish me off but long enough for him to get away. I force myself to look at the victim of his spell. Someone is trying to help him, I hope he pulls through, but I can't stay here. I stagger to my feet and limp the rest of my way home to escape the scene, if not the blame for this.

#  Chapter Four

I'm not a morning person. After a late night, I can be downright irritable. After a night of drinking and a fight with an ogre, I'm dangerous to awaken. So why is my studio apartment filled with the morning light and two unexpected guests? My bloodshot eyes focus on Hagan helping himself to my stash of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. For his sake, I hope the bastard had the decency to make a cup for me as well. My other visitor has not taken such liberties. He sits in the studio's only chair, an old dime store novel lies open in his lap. Only when he sees I am awake enough to understand him, does Scott speak in his clipped and precise British accent. It's easy to forget I am older than him. It's the way he carries himself that makes everyone around him feel like his junior.

"Good morning, Count."

The morning light makes Scott seem paler than usual. He looks far more like a stereotypical vampire than Nerva ever will. Though his clothing is tailor made and expensive, he wears it differently than Meredith. For Scott, it's not about showing off or wearing the latest fashions. He likes dressing in his suits and he wears them well, even the ones that are out of style.

"I don't remember giving either of you a key to my place."

Hagan laughs at that. The man has no shame. "No need for a key when you have such a crappy lock."

I frown, sitting up in my futon. As I draw the covers around me, I realize Kara is not here to greet me. The link connecting us is quiet. I frown at that as I take stock of the situation. At least I don't have a hangover. My right knee is pain free but that might change when I get out of bed. The only mark on me from last night is a bruise on my chest and a cut on one knuckle of my left hand. I got off lucky considering the way I handled things.

Scott sounds apologetic when he speaks. "Forgive me for invading your privacy but this is important."

His words and the situation are enough for me to forgive and forget this. I don't invite many people here. My studio apartment, though spacious, has little in the way of furniture. It's not that I don't enjoy company but I like to have plenty of warning beforehand. The fact that the two of them are here uninvited speaks volumes. Hagan is much the same way, while Scott is too polite to break into someone's home on a whim. The man considers it impolite just dropping by unannounced.

"Tell me, you've come for the ring," I say.

"I'm sorry, Count but that would be a lie and I never play games with the truth."

Hagan hands me a cup of coffee. I take a sip. It's just the way I like it, light and sweet. The coffee clears away some of the cobwebs, but none of my confusion.

"Scott....."

"Right now, you are the only one who can handle the Bloodstone."

"What?"

He smiles as if he is giving a lecture in a college auditorium instead of sitting in my home. "If you can hold off on the one syllable questions till I am done, this will be much easier. When I learned someone had tampered with the ring, I tried to set things right. I tried and failed because of Meredith's interference."

His gesture towards Hagan is almost bird-like, filled with suppressed energy. "I had the foresight to have Hagan present. He was able to keep my guests from drastically shortening my life expectancy from a good century to a pain filled hour in intensive care. Unfortunately, I was forced to spend the evening in the company of your city's finest. I made sure Hagan got the ring to you before I was detained."

This time Hagan asks the question I'm thinking. "Why?"

Scott fixes him with a steady glare that causes the big man to mumble something. Scott hates interruptions. He considers them a breech of courtesy, especially when he is trying to explain something. Satisfied that neither one of us are going to interrupt him again, he continues. "Your peculiar gift for resisting magic is redirecting most of the energy Meredith is sending into the ring. I daresay you are the only reason why the ring has not reached its maximum potential."

He waits, making sure I have plenty of time to follow him and interrupt. I almost open my mouth. A look from Scott silences me more effectively than any verbal command would. "Now, I know what you're thinking, but it won't work. Your talents are wild and unrefined. The last time you used the ring it was more a matter of luck than skill and I do not like to take chances. A misstep could result in a rather large boom."

Of course, the last time I used the ring was to save both of our lives, but that is another story. The fact Scott has just validated a number of my fears does little for my piece of mind.

"There, now you are free to ask questions, engage in wild speculation or panic."

"What does this have to do with the 'Seven'?"

Scott stiffens in his chair. It's Hagan's wolf-like grin that disturbs me. Whoever or whatever the Seven are, it can't be good. Hagan only gets that look when he is there is a prospect of an epic and insanely dangerous battle in the not so distant future. He would call it another opportunity for glory.

"There are rumors, myths, dark whispers. They are too numerous to discount but too fantastic to believe. The 'Seven' are like the Boogeyman. They exist to frighten and warn us practitioners of the arts. If you believe in them, you also have to believe in dragons."

This proves even the most knowledgeable sorcerer on the planet doesn't know everything. Scott's belief in the supernatural doesn't extend to magical creatures such as unicorns and dragons. Even though there are myths and legends about these creatures, he tends to discount them. It reminds me of how most scientists regard monster hunters and crypto zoologists. This quirk reminds me, Scott has far more theoretical knowledge than he has practical experience. There are a lot of things the books leave out. That's the difference between him and Sol. Sol has far more practical knowledge and experience when it comes to magic. He's probably encountered a dragon or even one of these Seven sometime in his life. That's another reason why people refer to him as the Wise. It's one thing to know the theory and history but another thing to actually be able to say, "Yes, that's the way it worked the last time I did it."

I decide to break the news to Scott before Hagan can. "Um, dragons do exist. I saw one a while back." I pause a moment to smile and add, "The jury is still out on the Boogeyman."

He's about ready to question me when he notices Hagan's look. His voice drips with disgust as he remembers even he can be wrong. "I suppose you're going to tell me you've fought one before."

Hagan merely pulls up his pants leg to reveal one of his leather boots. It could be alligator or snake skin but the scales are larger and darker. I resist the urge to get in a small dig. There is no need. Scott is willing to accept the word of a friend or respected colleague without hard evidence. He'll save his arguments, if any, until after he spends some time researching the knowledge imparted to him. In two months time, he'll probably know more about dragons and the Boogeyman than me or Hagan ever will.

Scott straightens his tie as he speaks. It is obvious he is not too happy with the direction this conversation has gone. "Well, that does change things. I will need to research a bit more about the Seven and their servants. If they are real, the danger is greater than I imagined. In the meantime, you and the ring will have to stay out of trouble."

That earns a laugh from Hagan which I try to ignore. Scott continues, favoring me with a smile. "I will also keep the authorities off of your back until we can deal with this situation."

"Thanks."

"Oh, don't mention it. I am happy to help, but in the future, avoid punching anyone else famous. I hate paying off so many witnesses."

#  Chapter Five

After Scott and Hagan let themselves out, I decide now is the time to do a little research. I had planned on going to karate class and working out. Any research into the Bloodstone will have to wait till my meeting with Sol. If Scott had any more information on the ring, he would have told me. There is also the Seven and Meredith to learn about. I'll leave the Seven to Scott, but that won't stop me from pumping Sol for information on them. That leaves me with Meredith. As far as I'm concerned, he is the root of the problem. The sooner I get a handle on him, the better.

Even though I would rather lie in bed and rest, I get dressed. I take the train down and cross town. It's my first and hopefully only mistake of the day. Though it is just after rush hour, the trains are still crowded. I spend the entire trip standing, feeling my knee get worse with each passing minute. By the time I get off the train, my knee is beginning to bother me more than Kara's absence. She stayed with me long enough to see me safely home. I had hoped she would be back by now. She could help me fill in a few blanks concerning the Seven. I could tell something was troubling her in addition to everything that happened last night. I would really like to know what.

***

Libraries have always been a magical place for me. As a boy, I learned to appreciate my neighborhood library and all it held. I spent more time there than I did at the playground. Among the stacks, I could find endless hours of adventure or the cold hard truths of the universe. I could glimpse into the hearts and minds of scholars and poets and see the world through their eyes.

The New York Public Library system is one of the best in the country. You would be surprised by the amount and type of information you can dig up here. If there is a book you need and they don't have it, the library's database will tell you where to find it. Periodicals from all over the world are stored in PDF files and on microfiche ready to be perused. You can even find archived and historical records without making an extra trip to city hall. That is why the central library on Fifth Avenue and 40th Street is one of my first stops whenever I start working on a case. This will be the best place to learn a little background on Jack Meredith.

Like many of the rich and famous, Meredith has an autobiography. There are also numerous newspaper articles and exerts from magazines to read. It only takes two hours and a small fortune to copy it all. It takes longer to sift through all the information and organize it. I could have done this at home but the time I spend now will save me a trip back here. It gives me a chance to make sure I have everything I need. On the way home, I stop and grab some Chinese take out. I could have had it delivered but once I get started on this, I don't want any interruptions. When I finally get home, I turn on my CD player before sitting down on my futon. Smooth jazz fills the studio apartment helping me focus on the puzzle that is Jack Meredith.

A lot of it is stuff I already knew, others I had assumed. My first assessment is that the man is part magician, part tactician, and part ruthless business man. All of the press he has gotten has been good despite the rumors of misconduct and wrongdoing that hover around his business dealings like flies on a rotting corpse. Meredith seems to have mastered the art of letting people see what he wants them to see while hiding the ugly truth behind smoke and mirrors. The problem with being a magician is that you always have something to hide. If you're not careful, someone might see past your illusions.

Nothing leaps out at me during my first pass through the information. There are no hidden messages or codes like "The duck is on the pond" but things fit together too easily for my liking. It's too neat and hints at something more. The articles and book seem designed to craft an image. Meredith appears to be a philanthropist interested in giving back some of his riches to the community. This facade doesn't fool anyone with half a brain. It wasn't meant to. Anyone who digs a little deeper would see the same thing I see now; a money grubbing real estate tycoon. Many would be satisfied and stop digging but I know there is something more. Meredith wants people to see that part of him. It's not all that he is.

I caught a glimpse of the real Jack Meredith when he cast his first spell on me. Here is a man who is all about power. I could see it clearly in his eyes. It's his hobby, his passion, his addiction and he is willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his ends. There are business rivals and enemies who suddenly decided to retire or just disappear. It's not hard to imagine him sending his ex-bodyguard to make deal with his more troublesome opposition for him while he hides safe behind the mask of a philanthropist. Every calculated act of charity and compassion is designed to reap some benefit. Maybe that's why he gravitated toward business, where such characteristics are more times than not, an asset, and then finally to magic.

That raises other questions. What kind of sorcerer is he? When did he learn magic? Where did he learn it? Who taught him? Nothing here will answer those questions but there might be a clue to point me in the right direction.

I shift my attention from the news and magazine articles to his autobiography, "Survival of the Fittest." It gives a sanitized account of his life and how he managed to survive in the dog eat dog world of real estate, reinforcing my opinion of him. There isn't much here. One tidbit raises my suspicions. Meredith's teenage years are only mentioned in passing. That doesn't track. The rest of the book rambles on about all of Meredith's accomplishments but there is nothing in his book about those years where he did well enough in school to get into Dartmouth. Was this when he learned about magic? I dig a little deeper and find what could be a clue. In his sophomore year, he transferred mid-term from Fordham Prep to an exclusive boarding school in Massachusetts. You don't need to be a detective to know something happened, something conveniently edited out of his life story. This is part of what he's hiding. It will take more digging to find out what it is, but it's a start.

The rest of the information I have concerns his holdings, at least the ones known to the general public. All of them, I remember from his brief television interview, except one. The building is on 168th Street in the Bronx, well away from his other projects. I frown, filing away the location in my memory. I'll check this out after I see Sol. Most likely, it is nothing. My instincts tell me otherwise. It's the only property that he isn't developing into a condo. There has to be a reason for that.

I stretch and yawn. Today has been productive but I find myself wishing for Kara's comforting presence. It's strange for her to be gone for so long without a word. I know she can't be with me every minute of the day. She has a life of her own, one I am getting more and more curious about. I just hope she's all right.

***

My dream of Kara and room service in a five star hotel is rudely interrupted. The scene changes and spins out of control. The fantasy breaks apart under the stress, but I don't wake up. It is replaced by another far less pleasant dream.

I find myself standing in Tompkins Square Park, near the dog run. It looks exactly like the original except things are a bit too perfect, a bit too clean. This is all a cover for something dark and twisted. It lurks just out of sight, ready to swoop down on me. More smoke and mirrors for the man sitting on the park bench feeding the pigeons.

I say his name as if it were a curse. "Meredith."

He looks up at me with his perfect smile, though I imagine it is not so perfect in the waking world. He acts like he is in complete control of the situation. I'm not sure he isn't. Just how much power does this bastard have? No one wastes this kind of time, effort and energy on a dream sending. Not when it so easy to communicate. Why use a complex time consuming and exhausting spell when you can pick up a phone and call someone, or better yet set up a video conference? Even Scott with his eccentricities regarding phones usually doesn't indulge himself like this.

"Albritton," he says, trying to sound friendly. He hasn't forgotten what I did and I'm glad. If he were here in the flesh, I would knock out a few more teeth for his trouble.

"We have unfinished business, you and I." His laugh, not the one he uses at award banquets hints at what I have already knew. He's insane. Not crazy like Hagan or even me but totally nuts. "You have cost me. If I had known how much you would try me, I would have put you down years ago. You will give me the Bloodstone."

I frown at this. He's still not making sense. I have no idea what the hell he is talking about and there is no use getting him to enlighten me. That's not the purpose of this visit. It's a warning and a threat. He is already fading away, leaving me alone in the park among the pigeons that now stare at me expectantly. They look very hungry, ready to swarm all over me in a scene from a Hitchcock movie. That's when I hear Meredith's voice on the wind.

"This is what awaits you at the end of the Longest Road."

A moment later, something snakes around my neck, too fast for me to avoid, but slow enough for me to get my fingers in the way. It doesn't help. The silken cord tightens, choking the life out of me. I struggle and fight, knowing I can't win. There is no escape from this.

I bolt awake in my futon gasping for air. It's 5 am. My heart beats like it wants to pop out of my chest like an alien horror in some B movie. I am unharmed but there is no way I'll be able to get back to sleep again. I don't want to. The only thing I want to do is to kill Meredith.

#  Chapter Six

The name on the lease and books is Upper West Side Karate, but everyone just calls it "The Dojo." That name invoked the true feel of the place and a warm feeling in the hearts of all those who trained there. The other name was just the one we used when we wrote checks to cover our tuition. For me, it is my second home, the place I could always go to when I needed to get away from it all. This was one of those times.

Shihan, my teacher's title as well as the name all the students referred to him by with affection, had been a world champion. Now, he was content to teach, passing along all he had learned to his eager students. I remember when I first thought about training here, before Kara stepped back into my life again.

One of my friends suggested I watch a few classes and see if this was for me. As luck would have it, the first class I saw was the advanced fighting class held every Friday night. In the tiny confines of this dojo, I saw something special. It was one of the most intense things I had ever witnessed. Black, brown, green and even a few yellow belts fought their private wars. On the surface it looked like no one was taking any prisoners. If you looked deeper you could tell something else was going on. Despite the violence and brutality, there was also an element of control, respect, and above all friendship. Even though there were a few injuries, no one was actually trying to hurt, kill or maim anyone. These people were brothers and sisters, each here to perfect their art and in a way themselves through this trial by fire. When it was all over, there were no hard feelings. Everyone shook hands and bowed. After class, some continued to train while others went out on the town together. That night, I said to myself, this is something I want to be a part of. Fifteen years later, I haven't regretted my decision.

Shihan didn't just teach his students how to kick and punch. That was the easy part. You could learn that anywhere. No, he saw it as his responsibility to give his students something more. He taught the harder lessons, giving each of his students the tools they needed to make themselves better in and out of class. For some, this was a sense of discipline and control, while others found direction and purpose, but the one thing everyone learned was responsibility. Under his guidance, my natural gifts were refined and developed. My mind developed far more than my body. It was sharpened to a razor edge, allowing me to think clearly in a crisis. I made up for what I lacked in raw power with skill and trickery.

After the dream sending, I feel the need to do something physical. I have enough time for a workout in the dojo before Nerva comes to pick me up. As expected, my knee starts to hurt the more I use it. The short walk and climb up to the third floor where the dojo is located is an exercise in masochism. Instead of taking a formal class, I work on my kata. That doesn't stop Shihan from glancing my way from time to time to give me instructions and helpful advice. The kata's name I am practicing translates loosely as "Breaking Down the Large Fortress" though the only thing breaking is my concentration. Emotion clouds my vision as I struggle through the movements. I'm lucky the ogre didn't shatter my kneecap. Though the more I practice, the more I realize the damage is pretty extensive. When this is all over, I will have to get my knee looked at. Until then, I'm going to have to deal with the pain.

I switch to the heavy bag for a while, venting my anger and frustration. This is insane, a nightmare. Meredith is willing to hurt and kill me, for what? A magic rock. Maybe, just maybe, I would feel better if I knew what he wanted the Bloodstone for. Somehow, I doubt it. I picture Meredith's smug expression as I slam my fist into the bag again. I'm angry at him as well as myself. Someone got hurt, maybe killed, and I am partly to blame for it. Add to that, Kara's continued absence has me frustrated and worried. She still hasn't come back and it's been over a day. Something is bothering her. Is she scared? Does it have to do with what Meredith said? What is she hiding from me? There are too many questions that need to be answered. Despite the furious combination I unleash on the heavy bag, the answers aren't to be found here. That is why I need to see Sol. I hope he has some answers for me.

***

I shower and change, ready for my meeting with Sol. Nerva is waiting for me downstairs. It's not hard for her to make the tight jeans and white t-shirt look sexy.

"Sporting the casual look today," I say with a smile. She takes a moment to stick out her tongue at me before getting into her car. There is no hiding my limp as I get into the passenger seat.

"And you should take it easy in class."

I don't tell her about Meredith. There will be time for that later.

"I'll be more careful."

"You better."

With that said, we hit the road. Nerva drives a powder blue '76 Buick Skylark. The car is a classic. It's built like a tank compared to the other cars on the road, while still handling like a dream. Her ride's sound system, to put it bluntly, is kick ass. It pumps out hits from groups and artists I'm unfamiliar with.

She drives like she dances, seemingly wild and carefree but she's takes her entertainment and driving seriously. I don't know where she is taking be but I can tell Nerva is taking the scenic route. Even though I said it was important, her enjoyment comes first. Still, it doesn't take long to reach our destination. I've been to Solomon's library before. Each time, it is someplace different. This time it's in Flushing above the T-Bone Bar and Grill. As I get out of the car, Nerva steals a kiss, one that would make Kara angry if she were here.

"Remember, you owe me."

#  Chapter Seven

Sol's library is more magical than most. Even though he has moved it a dozen times that I know of, it still has the same look and feel. It is Sol's work of art, a labor of love and his most prized possession. Not only did he have an immense collection of magical tomes, his library also included books on the arts, sciences, history, philosophy, poetry, and fiction. Each book, scroll and tablet in his collection is somehow protected from the ravages of time.

Sol stands next to his poor overworked wooden desk. Unlike the sturdy bookshelves lining the walls which house his collection, the desk looks like it is on the verge of collapse. It is piled high with stacks of papers and books Sol is in the midst of studying. His chair is equally overworked. Sol isn't a small man, not big like Hagan. Picture a beardless Santa Claus with black silver streaked hair and you come close to what Sol looks like. Not quite so large but you get the idea. As always, he dresses for comfort. Today is no exception. The grey sweats he wears have seen better days. The remains of his gourmet lunch could be seen on his shirt, but it did not stop him from sounding any less imperious. Yeah, he is glad to see me. Even though Sol makes it difficult for people to see him, the man likes company. As he puts it, no one would waste their time jumping through his hoops if they didn't need or truly want to see him. No one could just drop by for the hell of it or because they happened to be in the neighborhood. This gives Sol more time to do what he likes doing best, reading and enjoying the finer things in life.

"Albritton, I'm disappointed in you," He gestures to one of the reading chairs. "I would have come to you if I knew you were hurt."

And here I am apologizing for not inconveniencing him. "I'm sorry but I have a big problem and not a lot of time."

A raise of one eyebrow is Sol's only reaction. It's seldom I actually need to use his library or pick his brain for information. I'm not a sorcerer or anything like that. If I were, this would be the perfect place to research little known spells and incantations. I usually visit Sol to chew the fat with him or listen to one of his stories about the good ole days. Other times, he invites me here to discuss doing some work for him. Only on the most difficult cases will I drop by to talk shop or find out about some esoteric fact you probably couldn't find elsewhere.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the Bloodstone. I try to ignore the way the ring feels in my hand. It's not as bad as last night. Maybe I have gotten used to it but the feeling is bad enough. "It's about this," I say as I give Sol a good look at the ring.

His eyes widen in alarm and instinctively, he takes a step back, nearly upsetting the books on his desk. "What the hell have you done? You fool, you've killed us all!"

I don't know what I was expecting him to say but that wasn't it. Sometimes, Sol likes to joke and use old clichés. He also has a tendency to exaggerate. This time he is serious. "It wasn't me. Someone named Meredith did it."

Sol's hand moves swift and sure in what could be a sign of protection. If Meredith were here, I am sure Sol would have more than a few words for him after he throttled the life out of him. Usually, you can't speak to someone after they're dead. Sol is one of few who know the steps necessary to do so. With a scowl, he says, "It shouldn't surprise me that another of my 'esteemed' colleagues lacks a sense of self-preservation. Let me guess, he said something about the Seven?"

"Yeah, he did," Sol knows all about the break-in at Scott's house but not the details. If he didn't find out from the news or Nerva, he would have heard it through the grapevine. He keeps track of that sort of thing. Some might call him paranoid, but he prefers the term hyper-vigilant. It is why he keeps moving his library and dwelling. I add the detail he is probably missing. "Meredith was the one behind the break-in at Scott's."

"Then he is even more the fool, but a dangerous fool nonetheless." Sol pauses a moment, motioning me to put away the ring before continuing. "It takes a certain degree of power, skill and insanity to delve into the First Magics."

If he thinks it is bad then there has to be a good reason for it. Odds are Sol tried to study it in the past and learned the hard way how dangerous they can be. This brings up another question. "Sol, I'm not exactly a new kid on the block, but this is the first time I've ever heard of this stuff. Want to enlighten me?"

Sol's smile returns now that the ring is out of sight. With it, so does some of his good humor. "Yes 'o seeker of knowledge. The First Magics, as many of us in the trade call them, are the magic of the Dragons and their enemies the Seven. You've never heard about them because the few of us who know about the First Magics 'discourage' others from studying them. We go out of our way to keep it a secret."

I look at Sol and wonder just how many people he has 'discouraged'. He likes to use euphemisms when talking about something unpleasant, especially when it involves violence or anything he might be prosecuted for in a court of law.

"They are uniquely dangerous. So dangerous that we try and 'confiscate' anything related to them. Unfortunately, every once in a while someone stumbles upon a way to tap their power. The problem is that there are usually spectacular consequences for doing so. Tunguska is a good example of that."

"I see," And I do, all too clearly. Like Sol said, you would have to be a fool to mess with something that dangerous. No one knows what caused the Tunguska event in 1908. Some scientists theorize it could have been anything from an asteroid or comet air bursting above Siberia to a micro black hole opening up. There are even wilder theories. It looks like Sol has his own ideas about what happened. No matter what you think caused the event, Tunguska is as a good example of what ground zero at doomsday would look like.

"So we need someone skilled in the use of First Magic or a dragon to defuse this thing."

The mischievous twinkle that is usually in Sol's eyes is replaced by a more calculating look. He's weighing the odds here. "Dragons and their servants are harder to arrange an appointment with than me. To be honest with you, I don't know any personally but there is something we can try."

I'm not sure whether I am relieved or not. For the most part, dragons don't have a very good reputation. You can find more stories about a dragon razing the countryside and eating young maidens than you can stories where they act as protectors and guardians. One thing all the stories have in common is that they are all extremely powerful and prefer not to be disturbed.

Sol walks over to one of the bookshelves. He quickly finds the tome he is looking for. It's old, nothing more than a collection of dried parchment tied together with a string. He sets it down with care on a nearby table, his fingers spreading out the pages gingerly. "I've deciphered a few pages from this collection. It has a drawing of the ring you're carrying." He smiles. "Take a look at this page and tell me if you can make anything out of it."

I nod, looking down at the page. There are no words, just tiny lines and scratches among pictures and diagrams. All of it written in a reddish brown liquid whose origins I try not to think about. I shouldn't be able to understand any of this, but slowly, the chicken scratch starts to make sense. It's still a jumbled mess in my mind, too much for me to truly understand without more time, time which is in short supply, but there is one thing is painfully apparent.

"If I read this right, we're screwed."

***

Sol leaves me alone to call Dorward while I see if I can make any more sense out of the parchment. It poses as many questions as it answers. At least we learned something new about my little talent. It's connected to the First Magics. That's why I am able to read the parchment without years of study. Unfortunately, being able to read it is a far cry from understanding what I am reading. Some concepts don't translate into words. The little I do understand doesn't cheer me up. My connection to the First Magics makes it possible for me to attune myself to Bloodstone and use its powers safely, whatever they are. Unfortunately, the parchment doesn't state how to go about attuning myself to the ring. I could try to use the Bloodstone without attuning myself to it but I run the risk of nuking myself and everyone around me. It would be like trying to disarm a bomb with sledgehammer. The only other person we know who might be able to use the Bloodstone safely is Meredith, and the Lord only knows what he would use it for.

I already know what Scott will say when Sol gives him the news. "Well then put him on a plane to Antarctica and we'll hope for the best," Yeah, it sounds cold and heartless. It is but that's the sort of person Scott can be. If it's a choice between lots of dead people and one person then the poor sap is going to lose. I can't really blame him, but I can be a little bitter about this and the fact that I would let him put me on that plane before I let the ring do something spectacularly bad in a place like New York. Still, there has to be a way out of this, something I'm missing. I just need some time to figure this out before push comes to shove. Luckily, Sol and the rest are willing to take a chance and trust me enough to make the call without forcing the issue.

Something about Meredith and the ring doesn't fit. From what I've seen of him thus far, the usual rules don't seem to apply to him and that worries me. His spells are too fast, too powerful and cast without effort or energy which puts me at a disadvantage, despite my own talents. There is also the matter of all the energy he has poured into the Bloodstone. Where is he getting it from? The more and more I think about it, I decide the answers are in the Bronx.

I put aside the parchment. Staring at the thing is beginning to give me a headache, and headaches don't help me think. That's when I feel Kara's thoughts.

" _I'm sorry._ "

And I can tell she actually is. It doesn't come across as empty words. " _I couldn't think of a way to tell you._ "

" _It's all right. I missed ya._ "

The silence is comfortable and welcome, just having her here is enough for me. It's always like this after we've been apart for even a little while. This time, I'm first to break the mood. "If I'm to get out of this, I need answers."

I can sense her nodding, waiting. " _Tell me about the Seven._ "

A sense of barely suppressed revulsion and horror jumps across the link. The images are raw and ugly, far from the beauty I've come to associate with Kara's thoughts. When she regains her composure, her voice is strained. "Y _ou've encountered demons in the past. You know what they are like._ "

My last encounter with a demon left me with an ardent desire to steer clear of them or anything remotely resembling demonic possession. I still have nightmares about that case. There are all sorts of spirits and I've dealt with more than my fair share of them. Demons are the most malevolent and powerful. They have no qualms about possessing people. Some of the more dangerous ones can inhabit places and even objects. Once they have a home, they make life extremely short, painful and miserable for anyone who has the bad luck to stumble across them. I leave them to the numerous bible thumpers, exorcists and spiritualists who specialize in dealing with them.

" _The Seven are far more powerful. They are like spirits but they aren't from the spirit world, they originate from this one. That means they can't be exorcised or banished. Long ago, they fought the Dragons and the First Magics were used to defeat them. The Seven were bound tight in a dreamless sleep, but if someone were to awaken them...._ "

There is no need for her to finish the thought. I have a vivid imagination. It comes in handy in this sort of lifestyle. Right now, I wish it wasn't quite so vivid. The picture Kara has painted doesn't leave any doubt in my mind about how bad things will get if the Seven are awakened. They are dangerous on a scale I'm not comfortable thinking about. Demons revel in spreading fear, madness and corruption. It would be hell on Earth if enough demons were let loose and these Seven sound far worse. There would be no 'easy' way to get rid of them. No matter what, someone is going to have to 'discourage' Meredith.

" _My little trick is related to the First Magics, right?_ "

Another nod as she murmurs softly, " _It's not a trick but yes. Your connection to the First Magics makes it difficult for all lesser magics to affect you. This connection lets you understand the parchment. It is also how our link works._ "

I don't have to think my next question for Kara to know what it is. She answers it. " _Some are born with the power, others can learn it and in some rare cases the ability is given as a gift. The dragon you saw, she is the one who gave you your gift._ "

On some level, I had always known my little talent was a gift. People just don't pick up magical abilities or weird talents. Kara is leaving something out, as if she is unsure or unable to say it. I let her off the hook. " _Can you tell me how to attune myself to the ring?_ "

Her reply is sad, as if she were a doctor telling me I have a terminal case of cancer. " _Yes, but it obeys the laws of time and effort. Given time, you could do it but that would take weeks. You could learn to do so sooner but with great effort and risk._ "

In other words, I don't have enough time to learn how to use the ring unless I want to try something suicidal.

" _So, how much time do I have, doc?_ "

" _You have until the end of next week. Meredith shouldn't be able to tamper with the Bloodstone again as long as you keep your guard up._ "

I realize how hard this must be for her, hard enough that I have to give her a little hope. Two weeks isn't much time but it is better than nothing.

" _So we have some time to figure something out. We have a chance,_ " I say, meaning it. Nothing is impossible. I just hope we come up with something before I take what will probably be a one way trip to the boondocks.

#  Chapter Eight

It's the next day when I leave Solomon's library. I think I'm the only person he has ever allowed to crash there, besides Nerva. Instead of going home, I take the number 5 train into the Bronx. My destination is only a few blocks away from where I grew up. A lot has changed for the better. Meredith's property is the exception to the rule. It stands there as a monument to a past best forgotten. I look at the building and frown. Something is not right here. Kara can feel it too.

The South Bronx is in the midst of a minor renaissance. Real estate is at a premium. The abandoned buildings and junkyards of yesteryear are a thing of the past. New housing is rising from the ashes. The slums have given way to the promise of a better tomorrow, everywhere but here. What made 168th Street and Forest Avenue different? Why would Meredith let this building sit and rot? With only with a little work, he could make a killing here.

On the surface, everything looked normal. The front of the building was old and run down, a shadow of its former glory. Wooden boards were nailed over the windows and doors. Granted, the neighborhood could be better. It could be closer to the subway, but that wasn't a reason to let good real estate go to waste.

" _It's one of those buildings,_ " Kara says, and she's right.

If you're not looking for them, you can miss the little clues and details that act as a warning. The building was free of the graffiti and posters that decorate most other abandoned buildings and construction sites. In this day and age, people jump at the chance for free advertising or to show off their art, but not here. Everyone and thing avoided this place. Not even a pigeon could be seen roosting on the building. People took the extra effort to cross the street instead of walking past the place.

The more and more I see, the less and less I like this set up. Kara is right. This is one of those buildings. What do I mean by that? It's simple. You ever wonder why some buildings, no matter how many housing violations they have, are never condemned. Meanwhile other buildings are closed for seemingly trivial matters. I used to chalk it up to bribery, corruption, incompetence, or the warped thinking of bureaucrats, but there was a much simpler reason I learned when I started working as a paranormal investigator.

This may sound old and tired. That doesn't stop it from being another one of those universal truths that pop up in my line of work. There are things that shouldn't be disturbed. There are people who shouldn't be bothered. There are places that shouldn't be entered. That's the way things are. That's the way they have always been. Everyone knows it, even if it's only on a subconscious level. Some choose to ignore their gut feelings, especially those who have more greed than they do common sense. Real estate agents and developers are notorious for this.

This building is one of those places. I know it, Kara knows it and so does Meredith. It was abandoned but not for any mundane reason. That's why he brought the place. That is why he is content not to have any work done on it. Okay, so what am I dealing with? I could check it out now in the light of day, but too much can go wrong. Rushing headlong into the unknown is a good way to end a career, especially with someone like Meredith in the mix. I opt for the safer course of action. I'll come back later after I make a few preparations. It might be more dangerous to explore the place at night but it will still be safer than going in blind. Also, there will be fewer potential witnesses.

***

I like to travel light. It's a good habit I picked up in my youth. I find it easier to move around when I'm not loaded down with a lot of excess baggage, especially if I need to move fast. Ordinarily, I would bring a few more items with me, but I'm trespassing and have a strong aversion to jail. The canvas messenger bag is just big enough to hold everything I need and small enough to stay out of my way. If I was actually on a case and doing this legally, I would have a floor plan of the building. I wouldn't have to worry about breaking in. Instead, I look for the best way to do this.

As I hoped, I don't have to worry about witnesses. The criminal element is smarter than me. They steer clear of this block. At eleven pm, the street is deserted. Someone even took the liberty to shatter all of the street lights, casting the block into shadows. I am alone here and the vibe coming from the building reinforces my belief.

I make a quick circuit of the building. Despite the lack of work done on the place, it looks quite secure. The wooden boards covering the ground floor windows have been replaced recently. The front, back, and basement doors sport brand new padlocks on them. I won't be going in through one of the doors. Picking locks is not one of the skills I have mastered. Kara can't sense any magic or spirits from outside the building, just the same sense of uneasiness I feel. I still don't know what I might be facing in there. Is it worth going in there? Anything could happen.

"You shouldn't be doing this by yourself," Kara says. She is probably right. I don't bother answering her with words. I just try to reassure her with my confidence. This is important, I just know it. I would lose time if I tried to get Hagan or one of my other friends to help me. Time is something I don't have.

The left side of the building looks promising. There are no doors but a fire escape ladder is within easy reach. I reach into my bag and pull on my black gloves. They are made for climbing and handling sharp objects. No need to risk cutting myself on a rusty piece of metal or getting a splinter. I have enough problems with my knee. A quick climb and I am through a second floor window. My knee only murmurs in discontent once I am inside.

The living room is empty of furniture, cleaned out long ago. It is dark and empty except for that cold and humid abandoned building smell. The glow stick I pull out and drop next to the door marks the apartment in case I need to get out of here in a hurry. I check my bag, eyeing the rest of my equipment: a filtered mask, a small crowbar and eleven more glow sticks are all that remain after I pull out the flashlight. Its illumination does little to pierce the gloom as I move deeper into the building.

It's slow going. I have to be careful of my footing since I didn't bring a rope or safety harness. I also left my hard hat behind. Most of the metal has been stripped from the building for scrap. Gaping holes can be seen where radiators and pipes are missing. A misstep might result in a sprained ankle or broken leg, neither of which would be good. Even though I have my cell phone with me, I would rather not have to use it. There would be a lot of questions, questions that aren't easily answered.

There are no scavengers, human or rodent. Another oddity is the lack of trash and debris in the hallway. It makes the surroundings even more destitute than they should be. The stairs are an accident waiting to happen. Some of the steps are missing, making the descent treacherous in the darkness. The first floor apartments and lobby are just as barren as the ones upstairs. There are no clues as to why this place makes me and Kara feel so uncomfortable.

The stairs leading down to the basement are particularly dark and uninviting. Even though these stairs have been repaired recently, I descend carefully. This is the kind of place where bad things happen to people. Sometime in the past, part of the basement was walled off. Boxes are stacked up haphazardly against the walls, making the large central room seem cluttered. The smell and humidity aren't as bad down here. From somewhere in the darkness, I can hear the sound of something humming, a machine of some sort. Maybe it is a heater or a dehumidifier on its last legs. That means the power is still working.

What used to be the laundry room is exceptionally disturbing. The washers and dryers are long gone but strong ropes have been strung out across the room, presumably for hanging laundry. I can see more rope coiled neatly in one gloomy corner of the room before Kara directs my attention to the hooks set in the ceiling at odd intervals. What the hell is this place being used for?

The crowbar finds its way into my hand. It does little to ease my mind as I continue my exploration. I follow the sound of machinery and find a door through to other side of the walled off area.

Unlike the rest of the basement, the floor is gone. The foundation and natural stone are exposed. There is a sense of age and something else.

Kara whispers, " _People have died here. Some recently....._ "

That was it. Death has a smell all its own. It comes in more flavors than ice cream, but it is always unpleasant and never welcome. There is no altar or the usual occult trappings, just a feeling to the place. This is a place of pain and suffering. It is probably Meredith's work, but that isn't enough to make this building stand out. There is something else, something I can't place a finger on. Why would Meredith rip up the floor and dig down to the bare stone foundation?

I kneel down to touch the stone, feeling the coldness through my gloves. Kara screams a warning as something makes contact with me through the stone. It takes all of my willpower to jerk my hand away and fight against the mind numbing sensation that grip me. I stumble out of the room, desperate to get away from the stone and whatever is in it.

This is an experience I could have done without. I fall to my hands and knees in the super's apartment and decorate the warped wooden floor with the contents of my stomach. "What the hell?"

Kara answers with an unending stream of emotional babble. She is thinking and speaking too fast for me to keep up with her. It takes a lot to rattle her this badly. The only word I catch is "Servitor" and a sense that it shouldn't be here. I wait for her to calm down. It gives me time to get my guts under control. My head is still reeling from the brief moment of contact with whatever that thing was. I spit, trying in vain to clear the sour taste from my mouth when I realize I am not alone.

I move quietly to the door of the apartment and use the peephole to see what is going on. Someone has turned on the lights in the main room. Even so, I can't see much. I can tell there are at least three people moving around. For a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of two men. They drag a third figure into the room I recently vacated.

There is the sound of talking, more like orders being given. Like an idiot, I slip out of the apartment and into the light. This is beyond stupid but I have to see, I have to know. I hold my breath not daring to make a sound as I peak into the room.

There are five men there, one of which I recognize as Meredith. I don't know who the others are but one of them definitely doesn't want to be here. He struggles in the grip of two men dressed in what has come to be known as business casual. Another man is lighting candles and incense, following Meredith's orders to the letter.

A canvas drop cloth, painted with intricate symbols, has been spread across the dark stone floor. I don't recognize any of the symbols, but my eyes hurt just looking at them. They remind me of Sol's book but worse. Meredith is smart, I'll give him that. Most sorcerers make their drawings in charcoal or burning oil. This way saved time. There was no risk of accidentally rubbing out a line or drawing the pattern wrong. It also enabled him to transport it wherever he needed to take it. After the last candle is lit, I know what's coming. It doesn't stop me from watching. I hope in vain things will turn out differently. As Meredith begins to chant, he reaches into his pocket for something. I don't understand the words, for that I am grateful especially when he pulls out the length of cord from his pocket. As his chant becomes louder, nearing its inevitable conclusion, his helpers force the victim to his knees. In one deft motion, Meredith wraps the cord around the hapless man's neck. This sort of thing shouldn't be happening, not even in a place like New York. You just don't grab people off the street and drag them off to be sacrificed. I turn away from the sight and sound, trying to shut it out. It doesn't work. The memory of another time and place assaults me as the smell of death fills the room once more.

***

It was summer time. The sun was shining, the pigeons were scavenging for food and the heat was oppressive. All in all, it was another fun-filled day in the South Bronx. I was only a little boy, no older than ten or eleven. My cousins and I had decided to use the abandoned lot next to our apartment building for our playground.

Each of us was a hero in our own right but together we were unstoppable. Our adventures were larger than life. It was a good time. The temperature rose and my cousins went to cool off in the spray from a fire hydrant. I sought out adventure on my own. There behind our apartment building, I saw her. She shouldn't have been in a neighborhood like this. She looked like a princess and she was in need of a hero. The boy who had punched her was older and bigger than me. That didn't stop me from racing to the rescue.

Even back then, I was something of a fighter. I put fear into the neighborhood toughs and bullies who thought me and my cousins were an easy mark. They knew I wasn't afraid to play rough. This time I was way out of my league. I landed on the boy's back as he leaned over the girl, catching him off guard. It wasn't enough. He shook me off and sent me flying.

When I hit the ground, I couldn't move. It felt like something was broken. The boy looked down at me and laughed before kicking me hard. The only thing I could do was lie there, curled up in a little ball as I tried to breathe. Satisfied, he turned away from me and back to the girl. I knew he was doing something to her but I didn't know what. I couldn't comprehend what he was doing. It scared me out of my wits. I knew when he was done with whatever he was doing; he was going to kill her then me.

Somehow, I managed to find the strength to throw myself at his knees. I was too weak and too late. I wasn't a hero. I couldn't save her or myself. She was dead, a length of extension cord wrapped around her neck. I screamed long and loud. It and my struggling didn't stop him from putting his hands around my throat.

***

I'm back in the basement, standing there unable to move. When I was a child, I remember being put in the hospital. I could never remember how I got there. Was this what happened to me? Was it Meredith? Did he try to kill me when I was a boy? This is a nightmare. The crowbar drops from my nerveless fingers. Kara snaps me out of it.

"Run!" she screams.

All eyes look in my direction. They don't have a clear view of me but they know someone is here. I turn to run. I make it to the stairs as the first man runs out into the main room. My hand slaps the light switch, plunging the basement into darkness then I am taking the steps two at a time, fleeing this insanity.

They stumble behind me in the dark as I emerge onto the first floor. I am not alone. There is a man in the lobby guarding the now open front door. He doesn't see me yet but he has heard the commotion. His flashlight begins to traverse in my direction as he yells for me to stop. Yeah, right. No chance of that happening, especially after what I've seen. If I do that, I'll end up just like the rest of Meredith's victims. I bolt for the next set of stairs.

I opt for speed instead of caution. I have an edge. Kara is here to warn me when I am about to make a misstep. She saves me from a broken leg. Behind me, one of my pursuers isn't so lucky. Unfortunately, the rest don't waste time to help their friend out. They continue the chase. I was an idiot to come here. Not only did I come alone. I also brought the Bloodstone with me. In my haste, I almost miss the glow stick marking my exit.

I duck into the apartment then out the living room window. The fire escape shifts with my weight. I half fall and jump from the thing before it gives way. My knee pays the price when I land. I don't know how I do it but I manage to rise and limp away before anyone appears in the window.

I've bought myself some time. Maybe it's enough to get out of here. The subway isn't that close, and at this time of night it will be the first place they will look for me. Catching a cab isn't an option and the buses don't run frequently this time of night. I have to get away on foot or far enough away so I can call for a cab or catch a train. I might have escaped but I'm still in big trouble.

#  Chapter Nine

I walk, I don't run. Running down the street in the middle of the night in a bad neighborhood is the worst thing you can do. It screams out to any opportunist, "Mug me!! I'm scared and not afraid to show it."

Even if I wanted to run, I'm not sure my knee would cooperate. It's been hurting a lot after my little gymnastics routine, taking every opportunity to remind me of its displeasure. I pause to catch my breath in the shadow of a building that has been renovated recently.

" _I didn't know,_ " Kara says and I believe her. I know she doesn't tell me everything. If she knew about this, she would have shared that bit of knowledge with me. She knows what it means to me. It's a hell of a thing to be without a chunk of your memory, especially when it concerns an event that changed your life. With the bad, there was a lot of good. Whoever hurt me is responsible for me meeting Kara. That doesn't mean I'm going to forgive them for it.

"I know. I'll be fine," I say and she knows I'm lying. It's not going to be anything close to okay or fine till I deal with whoever killed that girl and tried to kill me. They taught me I'm not a hero. Heroes aren't about revenge.

***

I've made it. My goal is in sight. The train station is less than a block away. This close to the station there are bars, restaurants and convenience stores that are still open. There aren't a lot of people on the street, too few for me to blend in with if someone was on the lookout for me. I decide to take it slow and easy.

With the cutbacks in service, there is only one entrance to the station open at this time of night. As usual, there are a couple of people hanging around, probably waiting for someone or looking for the best time to hop the turnstile. I detour into a coffee shop when they are joined by a fourth person. Even though I didn't get a good look at him, I remember him from the basement. He's one of Meredith's men.

I get a booth in the back of the coffee shop, one that gives me a view of the door. This night keeps getting better and better. I walked the extra distance to avoid this sort of thing and now I'm stuck. I could probably hang out here and call for a cab, but something tells me I would end up in a limo with Meredith instead of in a car heading for home. I pull out my cell phone and turn it on.

The first person I try is Hagan. The phone rings for an eternity before I am shunted to his voice mail. I know he always keeps his phone on so he must either be distracted or someplace where it is too noisy for him to hear the phone ringing. I try Nerva next and, as expected, her phone is off. I go right to voice mail. I don't bother leaving a message. It won't do me any good unless she checks her messages in the next five minutes and my luck isn't that good. Nerva checks her voice mail once a year, if at all. I take a deep breath and dial Scott's number.

He picks up after the second ring. I knew he would be up, Scott keeps the same sort of hours I do but there is no hello or customary greeting.

"Count, I hope you aren't calling my home from a cell phone."

I wince at the tone, remembering his quirks about phones and cell phones in particular. One day when I'm not afraid for my life, I will have to ask him about that. I'm sure it will be one hell of a story.

"Scott, I'm in trouble here."

That gets his attention. I'm about to tell him what's going on without going into the details. He doesn't want to hear it. After all I am talking on a cell phone in a public place.

"Wait there. I'll come get you."

"Thanks. I appreciate this."

"Oh and Count."

"Yes?"

"This wouldn't be happening if you just learned how to drive."

Scott doesn't give me a chance to reply with a snappy comeback. He hangs up the phone. Yeah, I don't drive, not because I can't. I just don't like being behind the wheel. You don't really need to drive or own a vehicle when you live in a place like New York. It usually doesn't cause me any problems but when it does, the problems are big.

I put it out of my head and signal the waitress. Dorward will be here in twenty or thirty minutes tops. That gives me enough time to grab some food.

Kara gives me the bad news after I place my order.

" _Someone just cast a tracking spell._ "

I almost laugh out loud. Meredith must have forgotten his earlier attempt to use magic on me or he's getting desperate.

" _And I should be worried?_ "

" _It's been cast on the ring, not you._ "

Oh, crap.

***

I don't bother standing up or trying to make it to the door. From here, I can see three of Meredith's men position themselves just outside the door. The fourth is probably around back covering the kitchen exit. Thankfully, they don't come in. It gives me a chance to enjoy the scrambled eggs and bacon I ordered. In retrospect, maybe I should have chosen the steak. This might actually be my last meal.

All things considered, I'm not in that bad of a position. They don't seem willing to drag me out of here in front of witnesses. If they wait too long, Scott will be here to get me out of this. I try to relax. Eating gives me something to do. The food is good, not the best but far from the worst. The eggs aren't too runny and the bacon is just right. The meal is ruined by Meredith's arrival.

Kara gives me enough warning so I can look up at him as he enters the coffee shop with one of his men. I'm not surprised he would come here in person. They walk straight towards my booth. I have no quips or jokes ready when Meredith slides in across from me. I am not in a joking mood, not after what I've seen tonight. His friend slides into the booth next tome.

"I confess, I didn't think we would meet again so soon." Meredith smiles at me. In his mind, this is all a forgone conclusion. I've already lost. He might be right. "You must know far more than I realized. You will have to tell me how you found out about my little hobby."

The man calls ritual sacrifice a hobby. He's the one behind all the bodies that have been turning up in Alphabet City. How many has he killed? I don't say a word as the waitress comes over and takes away the dishes. Meredith takes the liberty to order a cup of tea. If there is any justice in the world, he'll choke on it. With the way my luck is going, I will probably end up picking up the tab. I debate lunging across the table when I hear the click and hum of a stun gun. His new bodyguard must have heard about what I did to Meredith. All three of us know there's no place for me to dodge or avoid its touch in the booth. It's only a matter of time before Meredith asks me to hand him the Bloodstone and step outside. They'll be a car waiting to drive us back to his building. We'll head downstairs and no one will know whatever happened to Count Albritton. I'm in no rush to take that trip. I remain silent and let Meredith speak while Kara points out what I already know.

" _Scott better get here soon,_ " she says.

" _Hopefully, he'll bring help._ "

"I'm not going to lie to you, Albritton. We're nothing alike. You, my friend, are a failure. It's ironic that your greatest failure will allow me to succeed in bringing about the next golden age of magic."

"A golden age? Do you mean one where you get to murder and kill at will?"

He favors me with a patronizing smile. I don't understand and he knows it. I hope my mind never gets that bent out of shape where I can see the world as Meredith does.

"When the Seven and their servants awaken, it will usher in a new day. Even you would welcome it."

" _Maybe he will talk me to death._ "

Kara doesn't laugh at my little joke. For what its worth, his henchman looks just as confused as I feel. I don't know whether or not I should be comforted by that.

"Magic and technology have never been balanced. One has always been stronger than the other. When the Seven awaken, the balance will swing back in favor of magic. It will be a return to glory days when magic held dominion."

I think about the idea and it does sound tempting, but the price is too high. It would be like Meredith says. There would be a new golden age of magic, a renaissance. If Meredith is telling the truth about then technology would lose much of its power. That wouldn't have been so bad a millennium or two ago but today, it would amount to the end of the world. There would be panic in the streets as things we take for granted just stopped working. The death toll would make the various world wars seem like border skirmishes. To make matters worse, the Seven would be free to do as they please. Who could stop them? Only a handful of people can use magic. From what Sol tells me, most of those don't know anything about the First Magics. Meredith takes my stunned silence as encouragement.

"Yes. I knew you weren't as short-sighted as some of the others. You can see the possibilities. The world would be free of the technology that is slowly killing it. Magical beasts long thought extinct would return. There would be a need for heroes again."

Yes, there would be a need for heroes to replace all of the short-sighted individuals, like myself, who will be hunted down like animals. We would be the only ones besides the Seven, Meredith and his allies who could use magic. For them to have absolute power, we would need to die. I was wrong about Meredith. I didn't factor in the possibility that he was a raving madman when I made my original assessment of him. I mean I knew he was insane but this is way out in La La land.

A thousand phrases come to mind. I don't say any of them. I want to call him insane. I want to say he won't get away with this. I can't. He could do it. Who's to stop him? One thing, one question must be answered. "Are you the one who tried to kill me?"

He laughs at me. I do a poor job at hiding my anger. His bodyguard takes this moment to remind me of his presence. I look down. The stun gun is close enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck and arms. I don't doubt the man's willingness to use it.

"Is that what's on your mind? Excuse me if I don't confess in public," He pauses for a moment, considering me. "Dying in ignorance is a fitting punishment for you. Now Albritton, I want you to give me the Bloodstone."

Kara doesn't pipe up with any advice. She doesn't have any. We both know I'm not about to give him the ring, especially now that I know what is at stake. He'll have to kill me first. Too bad, Meredith doesn't have a problem with that. I am so intent on him and his man I don't notice Scott's arrival until he speaks.

"And why should he give you my property?"

***

I knew he was coming and I, like Meredith, am still surprised by his sudden appearance. He stands there leaning on his silver tipped walking stick, making him seem more like a product of the old world than this day and age. The coat he wears reminds me of something from the turn of the century.

His arrival gives me hope, not just of getting out of here but of stopping this maniac. I risk a glance at the door and window where I see his limo. There is no sign of Meredith's men. Kara answers my question before I can ask it.

" _Hagan isn't here. If he is, I can't sense him._ "

"Ah, Dorward, It's been a long time," Meredith's surprise gives way to confidence. He slides over to make room for Scott as if he were expecting him. Scott declines the invitation with a shake of his head."I meant to call you after the break-in. I hope you weren't hurt."

If you were familiar with Scott, you could tell just how angry he is. He doesn't raise his voice. That would be impolite. No, it's his eyes that convey his feelings. They have nothing but contempt for Meredith. "I am doing tolerably well. Far better than the individuals who disturbed my privacy or for that matter the ones who accosted me outside."

Someone laughs, a chilling sound filled with hate and malice. It takes me a moment to realize the laughter came from the innocuous looking walking stick in Scott's hands. I press myself deeper into the booth and away from it, not worrying about embarrassing myself. Meredith does the same while his bodyguard gets up and heads to the restroom. I don't blame him, not one bit.

"Don't let it touch you.... ever," Kara says.

It's a warning I plan on heeding. I also resolve never to ask Scott where he got that thing from and exactly what it does. I am sure I won't like the answer. Kara is about to tell me something else when she hisses a warning.

There is no fire or lightning, just a sense of tension in the air as Meredith and Scott regard one another. There is a contest taking place and I don't want to interfere. Seconds go by before Scott finally speaks. "I think it is time for you to go, before my friend here feels like having desert."

I know Scott isn't talking about me. It doesn't help my frame of mind. This is the first time I ever saw an object look eager. Meredith appears calm though his hand shakes as he reaches for his tea. After taking a sip, he murmurs, "It seems that I have underestimated the two of you. I will withdraw for the time being."

Scott nods, stepping aside so Meredith can slip out of the booth. As Meredith rises, he places a card on the table. Unfortunately, it's not a credit card, which means I get to foot the bill for his tea. I'm about to toss an insult at Meredith when Kara fills me in on what just happened.

" _Meredith tried to cast a spell and Scott countered it. I don't think it was easy for him. They seemed evenly matched._ "

That's how most of these things go. To most people, it would have looked like nothing more than a heated conversation or a stare down until someone passed out, or in those rare cases died. It usually doesn't go that far. Most sorcerers who are losing a magical battle will relent before it comes to that. Usually, the victor doesn't press the issue. It's frowned upon by the community when you do. It also means if you are ever losing a fight and your opponent heard about your last battle, you will come away with more than a headache.

I wonder why Scott didn't use the walking stick. Actually, I'm glad he didn't. I really don't want to see it in action.

Meredith pauses in the doorway to give me the evil eye. "Albritton, you want answers. I'll give them to you in exchange for the ring," He smiles, confident he has found my price. "Think it over. You have my card, call me. The offer is open for a limited time."

He leaves before I can hurl a curse his way. Damn him and damn me for being tempted to take his offer.

#  Chapter Ten

Scott's limo isn't very big. It is only able to fit four passengers in decadent comfort with room for two more people up front with the driver. What it lacks in size, it makes up for in style. His XCalibre is a classic. Its smooth lines and polished chrome bring to mind a different time and place where people were supposedly more genteel. They definitely don't make them like this anymore, at least not in the US. That's why Scott had his shipped from overseas.

Despite its age, the limo sported all the modern conveniences many larger and newer limos consider standard. Scott had the car's electrical system re-vamped to accommodate a 17" flat screen television, DVD player, and state of the art sound system. As a final touch, a cooler and wet bar were added and placed within easy reach of the passenger side seats.

Neither one of us felt like talking much. Scott looked as tired as I felt. His battle of wills with Meredith had taken a lot out of him. My knee was still throbbing from the abuse I had put it through. His driver, also imported from overseas, handled the Xcalibre like a pro. He guided the vehicle through the streets of the Bronx and across the Willis Avenue Bridge without incident. The steel plates and renovations to the bridge usually made for a bumpy ride. Within the confines of the limo, I hardly felt a thing.

" _You have to tell him,_ " Kara says and I do. I start off with the easy part, the stuff he already knows. It gives me time to frame my thoughts about the rest. It's still fresh in my mind and that's what makes it so hard. There is no time or distance to shield me from what I saw and felt. I tell Scott everything I know and the scope of Meredith's plans. I even tell him about my memory.

His expression hardens and I remember my friend is far more dangerous than he appears. Like the walking stick locked in the trunk of the limo, he is not to be trifled with.

"We will have to do something about Meredith before he can bugger us."

I nod in agreement though I'm not sure what we can do about him.

***

Instead of dropping me off at home, Scott insists I spend the night over at his place. I'm too tired to argue. It's a smart move. In my present condition, I wouldn't be able to ward off Meredith or any of his merry men if they decided to pay me a visit.

Scott's place takes my breath away every time I come here. It isn't just the size. There's a raw feeling of luxury and comfort permeating the entire apartment, which would put many four star hotels to shame. From the little I have seen of it, his apartment is bigger than most houses. There were two kitchens, four bedrooms, five bathrooms, a dining room, study, living room and entertainment room - that I know of. The rest of the apartment, Scott considered his private domain. I figured it was there he kept most of his toys and did the majority of his research.

He wastes no time setting me up in one of the guest rooms. I waste no time falling asleep.

***

It is early afternoon when I wake up. I stretch in the bed, unwilling to move more than necessary. I'm in pain. The all-over body ache coupled with the exquisite agony from my knee makes me feel years older. At least it gives me something else to think about. It keeps me from rushing out and doing something stupid. Kara is there, doing her best to soothe my injuries both mental and physical. The more and more I think about my options, I realize there is no way I can leave the city. I can't run away from this man. Even though it might frustrate his plan, it would be too much like letting him win and I can't do it. It's that simple.

I reach for the remote control and turn on the television. Scott, bless his heart, put me up in one of the guest rooms with a television and private bath. He even has a change of clothes laid out for me in one of the chairs. Even though Scott had gotten me into this mess, I'm not angry with him. He had no way to know things would fishtail out of control like this. He's one of the guys in white hats and last night he got me out of a real tight spot. There is no doubt in my mind about what would have happened to me if he didn't drop everything to come pull my fat out of the fryer.

As usual, there is nothing on but entertainment programs, spreading gossip about the rich and famous, and the news. I opt for the news, hoping it will distract me from my problems. It doesn't.

Scott's bodyguard is being sought for questioning. Good luck with that one, Hagan is fairly good at avoiding the authorities. According to him, he's had centuries of practice. He'll lay low till things are cleared up. Two bodies are found near Tompkins Square Park in Alphabet City. I recognize both of them. One is the man I saw Meredith choke the life out of. The other is one of his men, the one who fell while chasing me. Hell of a medical plan he's got for his troops. I have a feeling a third body will turn up later tonight or tomorrow. Its description will probably match Meredith's bodyguard from the coffee shop. The newsman comments on the second victim's broken leg and how this is the first time two victims were killed within such a short time span. Police are looking for a connection and fear this might mean a rise in activity. I toy with the idea of phoning in an anonymous tip. It won't do any good. With the amount of money and connections at Meredith's disposal, someone will warn him and give him enough time to cover his tracks. That's assuming he hasn't done so already. Damn him and damn me. Maybe if I brought back up with me or told someone what I was doing I could have stopped him once and for all.

Meredith is a killer and he's going to keep killing unless someone stops him. That someone has to be me. It's not about honor or being a hero. It's about being able to look at myself in the mirror each morning. I have to face this, even if it means risking everything.

The memory of the boy with the cord and the girl I tried to save rears its ugly head again. For a moment, just a moment, I wonder if Kara knew all along and kept it from me. No, I'm not going down that road. We've been through too much for her to ever hide something like that from me. I felt her surprise across the link when the memory surfaced. The link doesn't allow for lies. You can hide the truth or omit it but we can't lie to one another or hide our feelings. I'm not going to insult her by even considering she might hide such a thing. I trust her and so much more. Meredith might end up killing me before everything is said and done but he isn't going to tarnish this.

Kara holds me tight and I murmur "I'm not going to let him win."

" _I know but I don't see how we can stop him. He's too powerful._ "

I frown at that. Kara has a point but something isn't right. I look at all the facts and think things through. No one, and I mean no one, can break the laws of magic. He almost fooled me. There is no denying his skill. He's still incredibly dangerous, but he is not all powerful. Scott proved that.

A lot of things make sense now. I should have seen it sooner. His little performance in the Bronx hammered the point home. Meredith has been sacrificing people to supplement his magic. It explains how he has been able to work his spells so easily. With enough extra power, you can cast your spells quicker and easier. It also explains why the Bloodstone feels the way that it does. I should have seen it sooner but Meredith has had me off balance from the start. All those comments about coming full circle and the one who got away were not just Meredith's way of having some fun at my expense. He used them to confuse me and keep my attention focused elsewhere.

So how do I stop him?

" _We could leave town. It will give you time to attune yourself to the ring,_ " Kara murmurs.

That would be the easy way out. I slink away and hide under a rock somewhere while Meredith keeps on killing. I shake my head.

" _No. That's not an option. It wouldn't stop Meredith. At best, it might delay him. He could always find me by tracking the ring like he did last night._ "

Scott or Sol could shield the ring from his spells, but it wouldn't last long enough to do me any good. Hell, it might even be what Meredith wants me to do. If I run and hide, he could come for me at his leisure. I would be alone, away from anyone who might be able to help me. Even if I was able to hide, there's nothing to stop Meredith from trying something else. No, it's better to confront him than run away.

" _You hate him, don't you?_ "

I don't answer Kara's question out loud. She knows what I am feeling. It's one of those mixed blessings. There isn't much I can or want to hide from her. Meredith has brought me down to a whole new level. Worse, he almost caused me to doubt the one person who has always been there for me. It's something that makes me feel less human and ready to give into the dark impulses we are all susceptible to. He has to pay.

A plan starts to form. It's simple yet devious and most of all it will give me the satisfaction of beating Meredith. Kara listens as I start to outline my plan. It's risky but doable in the little time we have.

" _I don't like it,_ " she says. That is an understatement.

" _Neither do I but he'll never see it coming._ "

#  Chapter Eleven

The door to Scott's study is closed so I knock and wait patiently for him answer. It doesn't take long for him to admit me. The room reminds me of Sol's library but on a much smaller scale. Scott sits there in his lazy boy reading another one of his novels. This one has Doc Savage on the cover. He sets it aside as he looks me up and down. I must have looked like hell last night. I probably still do.

"Well rested and ready for more adventure, I take it."

"I need two favors."

"Why am I not surprised?" He favors me with one of his enigmatic smiles. This one lets me know he is willing to forgive me for not saying good morning. "Do they have something to do with Meredith?"

"Yes. First, I need you to shield the Bloodstone so he can't track it again."

"That will be easy enough to do. And what is the second favor?"

"I want you to get Sol, Nerva, and Hagan here. We'll need them for when we put the move on Meredith."

We both share a laugh at that. I hope he is still able to do so when he hears my plan.

***

As Scott said, the spell was easy enough to do. I can go out without having to worry about Meredith or his goons using magic to track me down. I take the opportunity to splurge and spend time with Kara. It will give Scott plenty of time to contact the others via messenger.

It's just after noontime when I arrive at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This is a rare treat for Kara. I'm not one for museums but she loves them. I do admit it is more fun to visit them in her company. I enjoy Kara's commentary more than the sights as I stroll down the halls. She's better than most tour guides when it comes to pointing out this or that about an exhibit.

As always, my first stop is the Arms and Armor display before moving on to the various art exhibits. Each one takes us back to a different time and place while Kara shares a story from some legend or myth she knows. The past comes to life around me.

I quicken my pace slightly as I pass a drawing of a Viking warrior who looks vaguely familiar. Kara tells me he was a champion of King Hrolf. If I remember right, Hrolf and his champions figure prominently in a number of Scandinavian legends. Maybe there is something to this immortality business after all.

It's close to 5 pm when we leave the museum to get a bite to eat and to rest my knee. I say 'we' because it feels like Kara is here in the flesh with me. I treat us to filet mignon at Morton's. Kara likes her steak rare while I like mine well done so we compromise and settle for medium well. The steak, like everything else today, is superb. Even though I am tempted to have some wine, I decide against it. We have much to see and do tonight.

The streets of the Village call to us. We hop from bar to bar sampling the flavor and music of each establishment. We listen to sweet sultry jazz in the Blue Note. The Bitter End rocks with live music. I do a shot with the bartender in Polly Esthers as the sound of the 70s fills the bar. And so it goes. We visit places we haven't been to in ages. This is the night I wanted to have when this whole mess started.

Around 1 am, we find a party that has just gone into overdrive. It has all the hallmarks of a good time: sex, drugs, music, and alcohol. I pass on the drugs and avoid the sex. The alcohol and music are more than enough for me. I make a few new friends and slip out before the police arrive to shut the party down.

We end the night in Automatic Slims. Kara heads off, wishing me a good night. The kiss she leaves me with keeps me smiling long after she has gone to bed or to do whatever it is she does. I am just finishing my drink when I hear Nerva behind me.

"I knew I would find you here," she says.

I glance over my shoulder at her. The tight leather outfit brings to mind all of my boyhood fantasies of Emma Peel. It takes me a moment to get my mouth working.

"How did you find me?"

I had intentionally avoided any place Hagan or Nerva might be since I wanted this to be me and Kara's night out. She answers me with a smile and a slight toss of her hair.

"You always end the night here when you're about to do something dangerous."

I shrug. There is no point in lying to her. She knows my habits too well, almost as well as Kara does. She leans close and reminds me I still owe her.

"One drink and that's it," I tell her.

***

One drink turns into a couple. Afterwards, we head back to Nerva's place. I may never be known as Saint Albritton but I somehow manage to keep from doing anything that will get Kara mad at me. We spend the rest of the night talking. It keeps my mind off of what Nerva is probably doing to me. I learn Nerva likes to cook. It's something she does when she's in the right mood. She whips me up a breakfast fit for a king. When I offer her one of my pancakes, she laughs and tells me she's already eaten.

It's 7 am when I leave Nerva's flat. On the way back to Scott's place, I use my cell phone to call Meredith. The conversation is short and straight to the point.

"Is your offer still open?"

#  Chapter Twelve

It's mid-afternoon when everyone arrives. I have recovered from my night out on the town. As I go over everything I know about Meredith, I glance at each of my friends in turn.

Before Scott learned about Meredith's plans, he considered the man's actions a breach of courtesy and respect. Gentlemen do not resort to deceit and violence to achieve their aims. Meredith was simply a rival who needed to be put in his place. Once Scott learned the extent of Meredith's plans and what he's been doing, that changed. Meredith went from being an annoying rival to his antithesis. Here was a man who was abusing his power, willing to tear down the world for his own gain. Scott felt it was his duty to help stop Meredith. It is part of the code he lives by, a kind of "Noblesse Oblige". Some might call the concept outdated or silly but that is the sort of person that Scott is. He believes with wealth, power, and prestige comes a certain amount of responsibility. The flipside is that Scott expects a certain amount of respect and courtesy from those around him. There are worse codes to live by.

Hagan can't stop smiling. He is looking forward to when the talking stops and the hitting begins. First and foremost, Hagan is a warrior. He is also my friend. Like Scott, he lives by a code. For him, this is simple. He's probably wondering why we didn't kick down Meredith's door in the first place. This man tried to hurt Scott, the person who hired him and his friend. He then tried to hurt me, another one of his friends. It doesn't matter what his plan is. Good and evil, right and wrong don't enter into it. Meredith tried to harm his friends, he has to pay. Loyalty to one's friends is something I can understand. It's one reason why we get along so well.

Sol sits there silent and stone faced. Meredith hasn't threatened him directly. That doesn't matter. He, more than anyone else here, has a good idea of what will happen if Meredith's plan is successful. Even more important is how Sol sees the world. Certain practices are way out of line. For him, it is a matter of right and wrong. It is about doing the right thing. Like some wizard from a fantasy novel, he is ready to confront what he sees as evil. Meredith fits the bill perfectly. He has to pay. It is something the two of us can agree upon. The difference is Sol has no qualms about "taking out" Meredith or anyone else for that matter. In his way, he can be as bloodthirsty as Hagan. I want Meredith 'dealt with' just as much, probably more than Sol. How far am I willing to go? The answers surprise me.

Finally, there is Nerva. None of this is fun for her. In fact, she looks especially grim when she hears the whole story. Of all my friends, I would say she is most complex and hardest to figure out. It is easy to forget the beautiful woman in front of me is a predator. She didn't have anything against Meredith. Even though he hurt me, she might not have taken a direct interest in matters unless I asked her for help. Now that she knows what is at stake, everything has changed. It's become a matter of self preservation. If it's a question of her or Meredith, you don't need to be a brain scientist or rocket surgeon to know what her answer is going to be.

It doesn't take long to outline my plan. As far as plans go, it isn't much. As expected, the only one who likes it is Hagan. Everyone else, Kara included, says it is too simple. They forget sometimes the simple plans are the best ones. A simple plan executed perfectly is far better than a more complex plan that fails. Sure, a lot could go wrong. That's true with anything I could come up with on such short notice. The strong point of this plan is my friends. I know each one will do their part. They know as well as I do that there isn't room for failure. I trust these people. They're like family.

***

Scott Dorward and Solomon the Wise working magic together, many aspiring sorcerers would kill to see this. They are deep into their preparations for tonight. A study in contrasting styles, Scott's tailored suit is spotless. He chants in Latin and uses complex hand gestures combined with precise movements he has learned from his years of study to forge his part of the spell. Sol sits motionless on the carpeted floor in his dark sweats, his shirt stained with a bit of sauce from his meatball parmigian hero. His eyes have that far away look of someone who isn't all there as he concentrates on doing his part. He draws on his years of experience to guide him in weaving the rest of the spell. The only time he speaks is to signal Scott when he is ready for whatever step they need to do next. Scott's chant and gestures would change while Sol turns his attention to whatever it is that he is seeing. When these two masters work magic together, no one can touch them. Scott's knowledge and Sol's experience make them the perfect team. Next to my job, theirs is the hardest. I'm relying on them to bend the rules so they can tap into the Bloodstone. In theory, Scott thinks it will work while Sol doesn't see a problem with this part of the plan.

Nerva stands close by watching the two men work their magic. She smiles in admiration, enjoying the show as if she were watching Jimmy Page and Eric Clapton playing alongside Jimi Hendrix. Her senses can better appreciate what Scott and Sol are doing. Nerva's job is the easiest but no less important. Timing will be everything. Too soon and everything will fail, too late and it will cost me. That's what galls Kara the most about this plan, relying on Nerva. Kara is a good judge of character but her vision is clouded concerning the vampire. Maybe it's jealousy or something else. It doesn't matter how many times I refuse Nerva's invitations to party, maybe it's the temptation.

In comparison, the moment and what the two sorcerers are doing seems to be lost on Hagan. The big guy just sits there sharpening his sword. I don't know how he is going to get away with carrying a sword around with him in the middle of the city. That's not my problem. Hagan wouldn't bring it if he thought it would get in the way. It takes a certain type of person to thrust a length of steel into a living breathing person or to use it to slash apart someone. It's the sort of thing you would expect from a red handed Viking. Even though I can use a sword, I don't have a love for the blade or bloodshed. This is what Hagan does, what he lives for and he's welcome to it.

I glance at my four friends then turn my thoughts inward to spend the time with Kara. We relive the past and some of our adventures. It's another one of those things we do when I knowingly flirt with danger. It focuses me and gives me my edge. It's the same edge all professionals have over amateurs. There is a big difference in how you perform when something is just a hobby or for fun and when it's your job or life on the line. That's why the pros are so good at what they do. I have no desire to die and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure it's not going to happen. There are still things I want to see and do. Memories of past adventures steel me for what lies ahead. As I said, my job will be the hardest. I get to take care of Meredith.

#  Chapter Thirteen

It is after midnight. Tompkins Square Park is closed. Many consider this historic place, the heart of Alphabet City. It has been marked by as many concerts as there have been riots. During the day, the elm trees and playgrounds provide a welcome change from the busy city streets. It is a place where you can walk your dog, people watch or play with your kids. At night, the park changes for the worse. Though it is no longer a safe haven for criminals and the homeless, it is not the sort of place you want to be in after closing, especially when there is a killer on the loose.

True to his word, Meredith is there waiting for me. There are no police watching the park. He said he would come alone. I'm not stupid enough to believe him. His people are somewhere close, ready to come to his aid at a moment's notice. I don't bother looking for them. They aren't my problem.

I look at Meredith in the dim light. There are very few people I have ever cared enough to hate. He has made that very short and exclusive list. His dream dies tonight, whether he does as well is up to him.

"Albritton," His new smile looks almost like the old one except the center tooth is a bit too white. Someone not looking might not notice it. Despite what he probably considers, my minor accomplishments, I am nothing. He knows I am up to something but he isn't worried. Meredith is confident there is no way I can beat him. He might be right.

I remove my hands from my pockets. As usual, I'm unarmed. Meredith doesn't bother to make sure. He thinks he knows me. To meet me here and like this, he doesn't know me well enough. Still, I go through the motions and play my part. "You know what I want."

"Of course," He says, enjoying the moment and this quiet darkness. The sounds of the city fade away as well as that of the animal life scurrying about the park. "And what happens when you get your answer?"

I pull out the Bloodstone, letting it catch what little light there is. Kara grows even more uneasy, if that is possible. At this distance, Meredith might be able to use the ring for a spell instead of just focusing energy into it.

"We both know how this is going down. Now tell me the truth."

Meredith waits. He knows how much I want this. How much I need to know. The seconds tick by all too slowly while I struggle against the urge to attack him now. "It's true. I did try to kill you all those years ago. It wasn't personal. You just got in my way. It's a bad habit you picked up from somewhere."

He favors me with a smile as he reminisces. "I was young back then, an amateur in so many ways. My father taught me the arts, but for all his knowledge he lacked the drive to do what it took to get ahead. Me, I had too much drive. I moved too fast. It caused me to make a mistake with you and the girl. My actions frightened my father. My mother thought sending me away from the city would change me for the better, while my father wanted to avoid a scandal and the police. It was the best thing they could have done for me. There, I learned patience and perfected my magic. The result is what you see here today."

A small part of me wonders how someone could be so bent out of shape. The larger and more important part of me doesn't care. When you get right down to it, Meredith had a choice. He had everything; fame, fortune, and most importantly the freedom to choose what he wanted to do with his life. A lawyer or a social worker might be able to make excuses. They might blame his parents or his environment. They could say he is insane and they would be right. They will say all this in an effort to avoid the truth. People have been hurt. Others have been killed and Meredith is responsible. No one forced him down this path or made him do any of this. This is what he choose and he would do all of this over again without a shred of remorse or guilt.

There is no turning back now. I toss him the Bloodstone. I know he has no intention of letting me leave this park alive. Either,I'll be the next victim of the Alphabet City Strangler or Meredith's fall guy. but not before he wrings every bit of life and magic from my corpse. I let him enjoy his victory. I even say the words he's been expecting me to utter since coming here.

"You're not getting away with this. I'm taking you out."

Meredith just laughs. It's the sort of laugh you reserve for a clown in a circus who is more pathetic than funny. "You can't beat me, even if I were to indulge you infantile mano a mano heroic fantasies. The park is surrounded by my men and you are unarmed," Now, his smile turns nasty. "Your adventures end tonight, Count. Think of it as payment for the tooth that you knocked out."

I don't bother to check my watch. Enough time has passed to get this started. It's time to spoil Meredith's moment of triumph. "Your men won't be troubling us. Hagan is dealing with them right now," That gets his attention. Hagan is no joke and Meredith knows it. He has a reputation for being very lethal and good at what he does. Meredith's men, wherever they are hiding, will be too busy dying to come help him. Even better is the look he gives me, part accusing and part disbelief. He actually thought I would come alone and without backup. Sure, I have a reputation as being a stand up guy and always keeping my word, but I'm not stupid. Not everything you hear about me is true. I'm not above cheating and playing dirty when the stakes are this high. If Meredith had come alone, Hagan would have stayed out of it. His code won't permit him to disrupt a duel or a personal challenge. I knew Meredith wouldn't play straight with me. Why would he? In his opinion, I am beneath him. A lot of sorcerers think they are above anyone unable or unwilling to use magic. They figure anyone who believes in magic and doesn't study the art is stupid. It's why I am not friends with many of them. In my case, I don't practice sorcery because my own talent interferes with any spells I might try to cast.

Now, Meredith is angry; it shows in his expression and posture. He's underestimated me but he still isn't worried. He's got the Bloodstone. He can use its power. I push a few more of his buttons. "And don't think you'll be able to use the Bloodstone, it's been shielded against your power."

"Impossible. You and your friends didn't have enough time to work such a spell."

He's right. There wasn't enough time for a spell like that. Instinctively, Meredith draws on the ring as I surge forward. Kara whispers a warning to me and I laugh. I don't know what sort of spell he is trying. With the ring backing him up, it will probably be enough to get past my talent. Scott and Sol spring my next surprise on him.

For all Meredith's skill, he has been getting by using raw power; power he has gotten from sacrificing people. It was all part of his strategy to keep up the pressure. This time the strategy backfires on him. The problem with relying on brute force is it can make you lazy and sloppy. Thanks to Scott's knowledge of counter magic and Sol's experience with the First Magics, Meredith falls into my trap. My friend's magic works through Meredith's spell, using it as a conduit to safely tap the ring's energy. It allows them to release the energy stored within the Bloodstone in a controlled manner.

Usually there are no visible effects when magic is at work. This time my friends don't care if they waste power. In fact, the more power wasted the better. A cold blue fire erupts from the ring, bathing Meredith and me in its light. The grass around me withers and dies from the spell. I am unharmed as my friends release the ring's stored power and send it skyward. It arcs out of sight, heading for Meredith's building in the Bronx. Sol and Scott didn't know what to use the excess power for. I suggested they use it for a little urban renewal. When this is all over, Scott will see to sealing up that place up permanently, assuming I am able to do my part.

I gambled and won. If Meredith took the extra time and effort, instead of tapping the Bloodstone's power to do things quick and dirty, then things would have gone a lot differently. With the ring is drained, it is useless to him. It will be days, maybe weeks, before he can build up enough power for the Bloodstone to be a threat. By then, it will be too late. I'm on him.

The only sound in the park is that of two men doing their best to hurt one another. This isn't an action movie. There is no witty banter or curses, just the sound of breathing and the occasional grunt of pain or explosive exhalation as a blow slips past a guard. Even with surprise on my side, he is able to blunt my initial assault.

For the last few days, he's had his fun. He enjoyed dropping hints about our connection and playing his games. Now that I've changed the rules, it's time to settle up. Meredith has had this coming for thirty years and I take it to him. To his credit, he steps up to the plate taking what I dish out. With each punch and kick, I feel his confidence and arrogance wither. Everything is unraveling. I hope it's tearing him up inside.

I match my skill and experience against his strength and power. It's his quickness against my ability to second guess him and Kara's warnings. I stick to the plan and do everything right. I use the patterns drummed into me by my teacher and the hard knocks I have taken over the years. I don't look for openings, I create them.

Meredith has never been in a fight like this. He's a bully and a killer but not fighter. This is a new experience for him, dealing with someone able to fight back. Still, he adapts quickly. More of his punches and kicks land, forcing me to spend more time defending myself. Whoever taught him self-defense was no slouch.

A little over a minute into the fight, he screams something. I shut him up with a viscous knife hand to the throat but I am beginning to tire. I can't keep up this pace for too much longer. I usually take things slow and easy relying on counter punching instead of an all out attack. The injuries from the past few days are sapping my strength and endurance but I need to keep Meredith here until Nerva has done her part. I just hope Hagan is clear by then. Who knows, I might be able to pull this off without her help. Meredith is bloody and gasping for breath. Then it happens, my right knee buckles.

I'm in trouble and he knows it. His hands close on my throat. I quickly break the hold before it can solidify into a choke. Damn it! I can't go anywhere. I'm stuck in front of him. I try to jam a thumb into one of his eyes. The move is countered. For my troubles, Meredith kicks my buckling leg out from under me. I manage to break my fall but I still hit the ground hard. A kick drives what little air I had left out of my body like it did all those years ago. Meredith wastes no time. He gets down to business. If I didn't need surgery before, I will now. He stomps down hard on my right knee, almost causing me to pass out. I can't salvage this. What was once a fight turns into a beating, one that doesn't end until he is sure I can no longer fight back. He stands over me, bloody and triumphant. His foot toes me to see if there is still some life left in me before he pulls out a length of cord out from his pocket. It's probably the same one he used on his other victims; at least I hope it is. "That was foolish. I told you that you couldn't beat me. No hard feelings."

Where the hell is Nerva? I told her timing is everything but I don't see any sign of her or the police. She would pick this night to run a little late. Kara tries to comfort me but her tears get in the way. She doesn't think I'm going to make it. I'm almost out of tricks.

"Don't pass out on me, Albritton. I want you awake for this," Meredith gives me a shake to make sure I am still with him. "You don't know how much you have irked me. I don't know what annoyed me more; your escape all those years ago or your pitiful efforts to stop the inevitable."

He kneels down and I feel the cord around my neck. The bastard doesn't throttle me yet, he wants this to last. Meredith can't just kill me, he has to humiliate me and that's fine by me. He's given me time, time that I need and hope. "Can't you hear them?" I croak.

His smile of triumph is replaced first by uncertainty, then fear. He doesn't want to believe his ears. The police will be here in moments but my part isn't done yet. Meredith can still get away. He could flee into the night with the Bloodstone. It hurts to smile. I do it anyway as I whisper the words that will drive him over the edge. "You're done, Meredith. I beat you. Even if you make it out of the park, Hagan or one of the others will nail you."

Meredith's face turns red with anger. He tightens the cord around my neck and I struggle to hold on. The night becomes blacker as the police charge into the clearing. They don't yell freeze or anything. There is the sound of thunder and a flash of lightning. Meredith falls away from me. I can breathe again. Kara holds me as I slip the rest of the way into the darkness. Before everything goes black, my vision is filled with Nerva looking down at me, better late than never.

"That's another one you owe me," she says.

#  Chapter Fourteen

I leave out as much as I can about my friends. That was part of the plan, another part of the plan no one was thrilled about. Someone had to take the heat. I volunteered for the job when I confronted Meredith in the park. While I healed, the others scattered to the four winds.

Scott went back overseas to take care of some business at his family's estate. From there, he planned on making arrangements to acquire Meredith's property in the Bronx. Whatever that thing in the stone is, it's too dangerous a loose end not to tie up. Still, Scott didn't forget about me. He saw it as his duty to look out for me, plan or no plan. He is taking care of my hospital bills. He also made sure to put one of his attorneys at my disposal just in case.

Hagan, who has enough legal troubles to last at least a dozen lifetimes, left town. Knowing him, he was probably on his way to Philadelphia. He had friends there and a lot of good memories. Like him, the city was rich in history with many stories to tell. Hagan wouldn't be gone long, just long enough for the police to forget about him. They always do. Sometimes it takes a week, sometimes it would be longer. People who aren't friends and close associates tend to forget about him. Hagan called it a mixed blessing which kept him out of the news and history books.

For all intents and purposes, Sol dropped off the face of the planet. He retreated to the confines of his library, temporarily severing his few ties to the mundane world. It was already difficult to contact him. Now, it was almost impossible. Sol had the least to fear from the authorities. It puzzled me as to why he went into hiding. Now, I have a good idea why. He figured this wasn't over and was playing it safe. You don't get a name like Solomon the Wise by being careless.

In contrast, Nerva is hiding in plain sight. With her powers, she can avoid unwanted attention from the authorities. Even if they knew her usual haunts, the police would be hard pressed to catch her. She won't make it easy for them or anyone else to get a hold of her. It's a matter of self-preservation and Nerva is very good at taking care of herself. Hopefully, I won't need to reach her or Sol for a while.

My visitors move away from the bedside to converse. Time seems to slow to a crawl as I study them. Something has been nagging me since they arrived here. Yes, their look and demeanor still scream the word "Fed." It's not that. They are returning to my bedside, fanning out to surround me. This feels more wrong with each passing second. I realize I haven't seen them flash one bit of identification. The medication I'm on is definitely me throwing me off.

Marino's voice is calm and almost reassuring but not quite. "We believe your story. We need to transfer you to someplace more secure and bring you up to speed. It's not safe here."

I am about to ask for some ID when I feel a sense of pressure against my arm. I look to the side to see Marino's doctor inject something into my IV tube. The other man holds me down before I can yank the tube out. He doesn't even try to be gentle about it.

"You're not with the FBI."

I don't know whether they laugh or not. I am more interested in how pretty the room looks when it spins in time to the theme song from the Tonight Show.

#  Chapter Fifteen

I stop delaying the inevitable and open my eyes. There is something disturbing about waking up someplace other than where you fell asleep. It's even more disturbing when you've been knocked unconscious. It's happened to me more times than I would have liked. It's something I will never get used to. I never consider it a good thing. This time is no different.

My surroundings are a step up from what I was expecting or imagining. The room has a warm and cozy feeling to it. There are no bars on the window to clash with the wood furnishings. Instead, each window is outfitted with latest in home security and child safety devices. They can open just enough to let fresh air into the room, but not enough for a child to get through unless the window is broken. In which case, an alarm will sound summoning my hosts and lord knows who else.

Kara is here. That makes me feel better. She has almost as many questions as I do. This isn't what she was expecting when she told me I would be free soon. I catch her up to date as I find some clothes to wear. They aren't mine but they are just the sort of thing I would wear, jeans and a t-shirt. Whoever my hosts are, they are thorough. Not only did they get my size right, there is also a brace for my knee.

" _Are they with the man who attacked you?_ "

" _No, cause I'm still alive._ "

Kara nods in agreement. If they were with the man who tried to kill me, they could have finished me in the hospital. That doesn't make them friends.

" _True. The man who attacked you was surrounded by a glamour._ "

I frown at this latest revelation. Only the Fae and their descendants can use that style of magic. What do they have to do with this? The last time I checked, I was on good terms with both of the Fae courts.

" _Well, that's something. I would feel better if I knew more, like who my hosts are and why I'm here._ "

The knee brace looks simple to put on and adjust. I get dressed and fasten the thing on, testing it out. The pain is still there but nowhere near as bad as it was before. I might be able to get by without having to resort to the aluminum crutches that sit in the corner of the room. I nearly fall down making my way over to them when Marino enters the room. She is carrying a wooden tray with what smells like breakfast.

"Good morning, Mr. Albritton" She says.

Marino seems pleased with herself. She should be. I am right where she wants me to be. Whoever she works for must have some pull to get me out of the hospital. I focus on the woman ignoring my hunger. The labels that immediately come to mind are pretty and athletic. After her little act in the hospital, I add smart and clever to the list. Marino also looks a lot more relaxed and at ease than she was the last time I saw her. I imagine this is less stressful than waltzing into my hospital room under false pretenses and kidnapping me. I don't make it easy for her. I give her the silent treatment while Kara checks her out.

" _She's not enchanted. She's not a sorceress or one of the Fae._ "

Marino sets down the tray on a table near one of the windows. "I know this must be hard for you. We had to take you into protective custody."

"Is that what they call kidnapping these days?"

The promise of food lures me closer. It smells delicious but it doesn't solve my problem. How do you deal with someone who kidnaps you? I could shout and scream but it won't get me anywhere. So I force myself to be reasonable, and fail.

"Where do people get this stuff from? Oh wait, it was for my own good."

"I'm sorry but there is a lot at stake. You wouldn't have come willingly if we told you who we were," she says.

"Lady, after the story I told you and your friends there isn't a lot that I could call implausible. It can't be worse than anything I've seen, done, or said."

It begins to dawn on her just how silly this whole situation is. Marino lets her guard down and for the first time, I catch a glimpse of her true smile. She stops just short of laughing.

"You're right. It seems like something you might see in the movies." She gestures to one of the chairs at the table before sitting down. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. My name is Jennifer Marino and I'm with the government."

"That narrows it down. What agency?"

"You probably never heard of it. I'm with the Defense Intelligence Agency."

Marino is wrong. I have heard of it. Who said you couldn't learn anything from a game of strip Trivia Pursuit? Yes, it's as bad as it sounds. The only reason why I remember this bit of trivia is because I got the answer wrong. After the game, I decided to read up on the DIA. What I found out was interesting enough to remember. The DIA works hand in hand with the Department of Defense and intelligence communities around the world. Its role is much like that of the CIA. Unlike the Central Intelligence Agency, they get a lot less press. The DIA is a military organization. When I hear those stories about men in black who deal with the weird stuff the other agencies won't touch, I think of these guys. The organization's symbol laden seal is the sort of thing that would give a conspiracy theorist a woody. Its dark background brings to mind the unknown and hidden dangers surrounding us. In the foreground, the Earth and a flaming torch beating back the darkness.

" _I would have felt better if she said she was with the Vatican._ "

I don't quite smile at that. I've actually dealt with the Church on several occasions in my career. They have always had more than a passing interest in the occult and supernatural. It's something they don't publicize, but I digress.

"I've heard of you. It just raises more questions. What is the DIA doing investigating something like this?"

I can think of a few reasons why they might be interested in me and my friends. None of them are good. I need to know where we fit in. I don't interrupt Marino. I listen to her carefully, with the ear of a skeptic, alert for some lie or missing detail that will tell me I am being tricked again. In the end, I can only stare at the woman as I digest my meal and what she has told me.

Kara's thoughts mirror my own. " _These people are dangerous._ "

The DIA is split into several different directorates. Her department deploys field agents to gather intelligence and analyze data. These agents are assigned to task forces which work hand in hand with United States' allies to point out potential threats and, in rare cases, act against them. Each task force varied in size. The amount of funding and support they received is based on how dangerous a threat might seem to the Director. For instance, the task force assigned to deal with nuclear and biological weapons was the largest and most heavily funded one with terrorism as a close second. Marino's task force is one of the smallest, as she tells it. I don't think anyone in the DIA thought the supernatural was real, much less posed a threat to the world, until two days ago. I ask the question, knowing I will probably not like the answer.

"What changed their minds?"

She doesn't answer me, not immediately. That brief pause tells me she is going to leave something important out. "I forgot that you were pretty out of it for the last two days. There was an incident, the night you were attacked in the hospital. At first, we thought it was the work of terrorists. As we investigated, we realized something strange had happened. My commanding officer took a special interest when one of our psychics described you and mentioned something about the Seven."

Oh joy, a psychic fingered me. Dealing with psychics is almost as much trouble as trying to get a straight answer out of an oracle or soothsayer. They always speak in mumbo jumbo or give cryptic clues that never make sense till all is said and done. The only one I trust is Rook and it is seldom I visit her for a reading.

"And what happened?"

"It will be easier to show you."

***

A picture is worth a thousand words. It tells the story far better than Marino could do with mere words. I watch the recording again. This time I pay more attention to the little things. No one, except for me and my friends, knew why the building collapsed. With or without Meredith's arrest, there was going to be an investigation. The light show Scott and Sol created saw to that. It was something I didn't take into account when I asked them to level the place. Moments after the city engineers entered what was left of the building, there was an explosion. When the first camera got on the scene, it was in time to capture the worst of the tragedy. The thick ash grey cloud that was seemingly dispersing on the wind had flooded the neighborhood. It only covered a three block radius but the casualty reports were still coming in. The news called it an accident involving some sort of biological or chemical agent. The coroner was still working on the cause of death. The mystery helped fuel the panic which now gripped the city. The common theory was Meredith was stockpiling some sort aerosol-based weapon within the building for terrorists. The truth is a lot more frightening.

"That cloud is some kind of elemental."

From Marino's expression, she doesn't know what I'm talking about. This is all going to be new for her. Hell of a time for a crash course in this sort of thing.

"An elemental is a spirit that is associated with one of the seven elements: fire, earth, air, water, mind, wood and metal. Their power and sentience varies. That one is very big, bigger than any I ever heard of. It's more than a little dangerous."

" _That was why it was imprisoned in the Stone. It is what we call a Servitor._ "

As Marino gets a handle on this new bit of information, I cope with my own revelation. I don't need Kara to tell me why it's called a Servitor. It's not hard to guess why. What I don't understand is why Kara didn't tell me this in the first place. Maybe it's my own fault for not asking for details after we encountered the thing. I try to keep the anger out of my thoughts but, that's impossible.

" _How the hell did it get loose?_ "

" _I don't know. Maybe the building collapse weakened its prison? It could have been anything._ "

Marino is looking at me oddly, as if she is wondering if I am daydreaming. I blurt out something to avoid looking like a crazy person. "So, you want my help. Is that it?"

She nods slowly. Before Marino can start laying out all the reasons why I should help, I blunder onward. It will save time. I was committed the moment she showed me the video. "All right, I just need a few things."

Her expression changes slightly, becoming guarded, almost hostile. Marino must think I am about to ask for money. "I need you to keep the police off my back. I'm useless without freedom to operate. If you can do that and level with me then it should be smooth sailing."

"I'll have to check with my superiors but I don't think there will be any issues. Was that it?"

"Just one more thing, I need my ring back."

She thinks about it before answering. "That might be a problem but I'll see what I can do."

I'm sure it will be a problem. After all, it was last on Meredith's person. The police are probably holding it as evidence especially after my brief statement. I had told the police he took the ring from me. It was the only thing I could think of to explain how my fingerprints got on it. The explanation was close enough to the truth and I wasn't questioned too much about it. To the authorities, there was nothing special about the Bloodstone.

With that elemental or Servitor free, I will feel safer with the ring in my possession. Kara echoes the sentiment.

" _You will need it._ "

#  Chapter Sixteen

"I need to do a few things today. Will you be okay without me for a few hours?"

I nod to Kara. She is gone without another word. I've always trusted her but the past week has put a strain on our relationship. She is holding out on me. I can feel it. There's a lot she isn't telling me and it's putting me on edge. Maybe, the break will do us both some good.

After breakfast, I have the house all to myself. It gives me time to explore my new surroundings. The crutches and knee brace turn the tour into an adventure. The stairs become a treacherous mountain to descend. I'm breathing hard by the time I reach the safety of the hardwood floor below.

The house is well furnished. On the surface it seems perfect. When you look a little deeper, the place lacks the little things that make it a home. It's just a roof over your head. I have no complaints. It's far better than my hospital room. During my tour, I find one of the rooms has been outfitted as a conference room while two others have been set up as offices. A glance at the cable bill gives me the address. The house is somewhere in Scarsdale, a beautiful place that represents the best and worst of the suburbs. Scarsdale with its Tudor architecture has an upscale feel to it. I don't come out here much even though it is within easy reach of city by car or mass transit. It isn't my sort of place. I'm more comfortable in the city, any city. Each one is unique with its own look and style yet they all feel just as alive to me as the wilderness. I find myself missing the familiar pulse and beat of New York while I think about what to do. Like any living thing, cities can die, and with the Servitor loose I can see that happening all too clearly.

***

It is late afternoon when Marino returns. She doesn't have the Bloodstone but she does have some good news for me.

"It's safe to move you back into the city."

"What's changed?"

I can tell from the set of her shoulders something is bothering her. She had been relaxed yesterday, now the tension I saw in the hospital grips her again.

"I'm not at liberty to say."

I frown at that. "What happened to playing it straight?"

"It's complicated, Count. Things have changed. We've found someone else who can help us."

"Who?" I ask.

Maybe her superiors think this person would be more helpful than me. It would explain why they were cutting me loose. I can't imagine who they could have gotten. Any of the so-called experts in the field were liable to make things worse until they realized what they were dealing with. Another matter for concern is my own hide. If Marino is wrong about it being safe, I could wind up back in the hospital or worse.

"I can't say. It's something I'm not happy about but it's out of my hands. Listen, I'll give you my card in case you need anything. If our expert doesn't work out, we'll be in contact with you."

"Assuming some maniac doesn't put me in a pine box."

"Don't worry. I've even arranged for some extra security around your building, just in case."

"Thanks."

"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning."

***

The dream isn't a pleasant one. I can't even remember what it was about but I am relieved when it is rudely interrupted. I find myself standing in Scott's study. It looks the same as the last time I saw it. Scott sits in his lazy boy, ready to apologize for invading my dreams but he doesn't. He opens his mouth and then closes it, his attention riveted on something behind me. I spin rapidly, remembering my last visitation, only to be greeted by Kara's smile.

Dream sendings are usually private affairs, by invitation only, so it's only natural for him to be surprised by Kara's presence. Tall and statuesque, she is a vision come to life. My dark haired angel is as beautiful as when I first met her. I forget about Scott and step into her arms. It's been too long since we were last together. Here in the dream, it is like being with her in the flesh.

A throat clearing noise from Scott reminds me that he is here, watching the two of us. It looks like we will have to get reacquainted later so I behave myself. I turn back to our host though my hand finds Kara's as I make the proper introductions. "Allow me to introduce you to my guardian angel, Kara."

Kara curtseys to Scott who has regained his composure. I'm not sure whether he is admiring or appraising her. It makes me understand how she feels when I'm around Nerva.

"I must apologize. When Count said that he had a guardian angel looking over his shoulder, I thought he meant figuratively, not literally. I am glad to finally make your acquaintance."

Kara flashes Scott a brilliant smile. "Likewise, it is seldom that I get to talk to any of Count's friends. After his last dreaming, I am being extra vigilant."

Ah, so that's why she is here with us. She didn't want a repeat performance of my last dream sending. I wonder if Scott can set up something like this with just me and her. Kara tries to hide the sudden blush that rises to her cheeks as she says softly, "Count, please. We have company."

"So?"

"You're incorrigible. You know that, don't you," Kara says. I can feel the warmth in her voice. It's a good feeling.

"I know."

Scott shakes his head, marveling at the two of us. "The old boy must keep you hopping."

"Yes. He is always getting into something. It's a full time job looking out for him," she says.

"Well, you've done a fine job with this troublemaker."

It's time to put a stop to this before it gets out of hand. "Scott, you didn't set this up to just chitchat. Why the call?"

Scott sighs. "Yes, you're right. There isn't much time and things have gone astray. When I heard about the attempt on your life and the incident in the Bronx, I tried to return to the States but Immigration is being problematic. I will be there as soon as I am able."

I frown and Kara knows what I'm thinking. Someone with a lot of pull, probably my new friends or whoever tried to kill me, doesn't want Scott around. I need to ask Marino about that, assuming she will tell me the truth. I bring him up to date on what's been happening with me. Scott isn't happy when he learns about the DIA and the fact they might be causing him trouble.

"Yes, please talk with your 'friends.' I would like to know who to thank for my current misfortune. There isn't much I can do from here and Solomon is incommunicado. That is why I am contacting you. He met with our fellow mages and others in the community. It seems Meredith's actions have given them pause. They have agreed to give him no aid or comfort."

Nothing is ever this easy. If everything was fine, Scott wouldn't have contacted me like this. He would have used a courier or sent a letter. He doesn't waste time dropping the other shoe.

"Unfortunately, another problem has come to Solomon's attention. He is taking a direct hand in the matter."

Kara's smile is still present but slightly less dazzling. She doesn't like the sound of this. Neither do I. It must be some problem for Sol to get personally involved. Before I can ask the obvious question, Scott answers it.

"I can't go into details but it is at least as perilous as the situation with Meredith."

"Maybe it's all connected," Kara says.

I frown at that. The thought had occurred to me. I'm too paranoid to believe this is all a coincidence. Did I overlook something in my rush to take care of Meredith? I took it for granted he was working alone. It's looking more and more likely I was wrong on that score. His friends could be the source of this new danger.

Scott shakes his head. "It's connected but not like that. Let's just say someone sees this crisis as an opportunity to cause mischief. He is under the mistaken impression he will be able to attain his own desires while all eyes are on Meredith."

"I see."

Knowing Sol, he's going to "persuade" him to abandon his plans. Sol's methods of persuasion can be as brutal as Hagan's, especially if this person is as dangerous as Scott seems to think.

"Is there anything else?" I ask.

"I did some research and managed to unearth a few things. I'm not sure if any of it is helpful."

I am only half listening as Scott rambles on about the book he consulted and what he had to go through to get it. Scott is very thorough. He tends not to leave out any details no matter how annoying or small. When he does make an omission, it is intentional and for a reason. For the moment, I focus on Kara. It's been a long time since we've been together. I let her distract me until Scott gets to the important part. When she tenses up, my attention snaps back to the conversation. "What was that?"

"It's good to see that you're paying attention, Count. I said the last section of the book is a mixture of prophesy and fact concerning the Seven and their foes. I can't make heads or tails of it but as near as I can tell, the Dragons only have one servant at any given time and you are it. The rest was gibberish about the Awakening and the Longest Road."

Meredith had mentioned something about the Longest Road to me. I wrote it off as another one of his attempts to get under my skin. It looks like I was wrong on that score. I'm not concerned with that as much as the Awakening. Whatever it is, it can't be good especially with all the other things I now know about the Seven.

"Don't say another word." Kara's tone is commanding. She delivers the words as if they were a royal decree, one that demands obedience. That gives me pause. I've never heard her speak like this before and it's a side of her I don't like.

Scott seems immune to it. I guess he's dealt with royalty before. His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at the two of us. This isn't a safe spot to be in but I'm not going to stand aside no matter how ugly this might get. His words are clipped and precise.

"Madam, he needs to know this."

"He isn't ready yet," she says.

I step away from Kara. "You know, I'm right here and I want to know what the hell you two are talking about."

Scott seems about to answer me when the dream starts to break apart. I get a sense of satisfaction from Kara as I sit up in my bed, shaking. This is her doing. She's used our link to wake me up from the dream. Kara is trying to explain but I don't want to hear it. I am too angry for words. Molten fury bubbles across our link and Kara is gone. In my anger, I think I may have hurt her feelings and the sick part is I wanted to.

***

I spend the rest of the night trying to reach Kara and apologize but to no avail. It's 8 AM when the alarm rings. Marino will be here soon to take me home. Even though the painkillers help, my knee is nowhere near 100 percent. It would be humiliating to fall and die in the shower because I was in a hurry, so I start getting ready earlier.

I think back to the dream. Unlike most of my dreams, I remember most of it in vivid detail. Scott went through a lot of effort to contact me. He had to make the spell powerful enough to get past my little talent. It will be some time before he'll have enough juice to reach me again. I think back to what he told me before Kara cut him off.

Every few years, the Dragons choose a single champion or servant to act as their agent in the world. Each one is different and their roles have varied. Some have been warriors and heroes. Others have been scholars and artists. Their tasks have been great and small but each servant was given three gifts to help them: a weapon, a shield and a guide. Sometimes these have been literal, while other times figuratively. If that's the case, and I think it is, then my shield is my little talent. That would make Kara my guide but I still lack the weapon. Will I need one? With that Servitor thing on the loose, the answer is yes. The other questions come to mind have no easy answers and for the first time in a long time, I have no one to help me answer them or to brainstorm with. The Awakening has to deal with the Seven. Is there some prophecy out there saying the Seven will awaken no matter what I do? And then there is the Longest Road. Meredith said it leads to death. That doesn't tell me what it is and what it has to do with all of this. What is Kara hiding from me? Getting answers to all my questions isn't my biggest and most pressing concern. Neither is the Seven or being some dragon's champion. It's about Kara and making things right with her.

#  Chapter Seventeen

Marino is waiting for me outside in her car, a red Honda Accord. It's got just enough room for me to stretch out my legs when I push the seat all the way back, turning the trip from an experiment in torture to a mildly unpleasant experience. Still, it feels good to be outside. The feeling won't last long. Marino doesn't drive like Nerva. She's not a bad driver, just a bit too cautious for my tastes. For her, it is all about getting from point A to point B, quickly and efficiently. The traffic reports on AM radio and her no-nonsense approach help cut down the travel time into the city. Soon, we are stuck in traffic on the West Side Highway.

To be honest, I don't mind the traffic. It gives me a chance to talk to Marino and let go of some of my anger. It also takes my mind off of the unpleasant possibility I might have to stop this Servitor thing on my own. I don't know when or if Kara will be back. It will take time for Scott to clear things with Immigration. Sol is busy dealing with another problem. Nerva may or may not be helping him. If she is, it will make contacting Sol more difficult. Then there is Hagan. Besides Kara, he is the one I count on the most. He has always been there to back me up. I know where he is hiding out, but I don't want to call him unless I have to. There is no reason to put him in danger no matter how confident he is about avoiding the police.

I stay away from uncomfortable subjects like politics, religion, and her love life. They're not any of my business. I also steer away from work. This isn't the time or place for it. It still leaves enough things for us to talk about for me to get a better sense of her. We talk about current events, likes and dislikes before swapping travel stories and jokes. She knows a lot about me but not who I am so this is a learning experience for her as much as it is for me.

It only takes me twenty minutes to come to the conclusion she is good people. By that I mean, deep down she's a nice person. It's not a term I use to describe a lot of people but it fits her. I'm not one of those guys who use the word "nice" as a synonym for sucker. Marino is anything but that. Even though she actually cares about her fellow man, she doesn't take it to an extreme and turn it into a weakness or something that can be exploited. I can see why she is involved with the DIA and why they chose her. It's hard to find an idealist who knows where to draw the line. The best way to sum up all my feelings about her is to say I think we can be friends.

Marino smiles at me, almost as if she can hear my thoughts. I wonder if I blurted out what I was thinking. She picks this moment to make the conversation more interesting by popping the question. "Count, is there someone special?"

That catches me off-guard. I can't help but laugh. This is what I get for trying to stick to the safe topics. It's a fair question but one I don't know how to answer. It's a touchy subject right now. I haven't talked to Kara since our falling out and if I tell Marino the truth, there will be more questions. How do you tell someone you hear voices and you're involved with a guardian angel? I could lie but that will either raise more questions or cause problems somewhere down the line. Kara said I wasn't ready to know whatever it was Scott had to say and here I am thinking the same thing about Marino. I want to answer her question but I know she can't handle the answer yet. Is it this hard for Kara?

When we first met, she was a mentor and a teacher. As time passed, she became more of a partner and someone I could always rely on to help me. What changed? Did anything change? Yes and no. I'm not the same man I was weeks ago. Meredith has been like a poison, tainting everything in my life, but it's more than that. We're both to blame, I've been pushing and taking chances while Kara has been going into overdrive protecting me. Now, look at us. Marino's words pull me back into the conversation.

"You don't have to answer. I was just curious. The file I was given on you lists plenty of associates but no one that you could call a significant other," she says.

"It's alright." I say but I don't answer the question. I don't feel like lying to someone I want to call a friend. Instead, we spend the rest of the ride in silence.

***

Almost everything is exactly like I left it. The dishes have been done and someone went to the effort of tidying things up. At a glance, nothing appears to be missing. There would be time to check on that later. I glance over at Marino as I turn on the TV set.

"Your doing?" I ask.

"We had to make sure it was safe. A little cleaning didn't hurt."

"Can I get you something?"

"No, that's all right. I should be going. I have a long drive home."

"Another reason to get some coffee into your system. I even have paper cups so you can get it to go."

"Okay, black with two sugars."

I nod and get to work. I'm about to ask the same question she caught me with earlier when my attention is drawn to the TV and the news report. It takes seconds for the quiet horror to sink in. Meredith stands there, smiling for the cameras, looking every bit the winner. His lawyers and entourage keep the press at bay as he reads a brief statement proclaiming his innocence. That's just the sort of thing he would do after being caught in the act with the murder weapon in hand. The hypocrite praises the police for their restraint while I curse them. Why the hell hadn't the police finished off that maniac? The best case scenario was the police would kill Meredith. Even if that didn't happen, I figured they would just lock him up and throw away the key. I didn't think anyone in their right mind would turn him loose. I was wrong. It feels like I haven't accomplished a damn thing except get people hurt or killed. The only thing I have managed to do is keep the Bloodstone out of his hands. What gets me the most is the fact I recognize one member of Meredith's entourage. He had come with Marino to interview me in the hospital.

When I get angry, it's a cold almost reptilian thing. Generally, I don't shout or scream but it's something that is easy to see and feel. You can pick up the clues in my body language. You can see it in my eyes. You can hear it in my voice.

"You people can't be serious? He's your expert?"

"I... I'm sorry, Count. I was told not to tell you. He knows the most about that thing and how to get rid of it."

My tone drips with venom. "And you always do what you're told?"

"Andrew thought you might do something rash."

Why is everyone so worried I'm going to run out and do something stupid? In this case, it might be true, but I'm really getting tired of people leaving out important details, especially when I'm supposed to be working with them. "Lady, were you not listening when I told you all the stuff the other day. He's not about to help you or anyone else unless it helps him."

"He's doing it to keep the death penalty off the table."

Marino can't believe what she is telling me. She has to be smarter than this. No, she's repeating what she's been told and hoping it works out for the best.

"Meredith is going to screw you guys over. He's got some twisted plan in the works and you're helping him."

"You're ranting. Andrew was afraid of that."

"Andrew has a lot to be afraid of. We all do, especially me. Meredith is going to make another run at me."

"It wasn't Meredith who tried to have you killed in the hospital."

Maybe, just maybe, she knows something I don't. Somehow I doubt it, yet I ask the question. "How do you know?"

"He's been incommunicado since his arrest, recovering from his injuries."

I throw up my hands in frustration. This is unbelievable. "Don't you get it? Meredith is a sorcerer. He could have gotten word to one of his cronies and you would never know it."

She frowns at me. Marino can't see it. She isn't a part of this world. To her, magic is the stuff you see on TV or in Vegas. It isn't real to her. Hell, this is new territory for me as well. I am dealing with things on a larger scale than I am used to. I don't think she agreed with whatever decision came down from on high. I decide to push it.

"I bet the whole kidnapping thing was Andrew's idea. Was it also his idea to keep Scott out of the country?"

Marino is surprised by that. Not because she didn't know about Scott but the fact that I knew about it.

"Your friend might interfere with the operation," she says.

"Did Meredith give Andrew that piece of advice?" She opens her mouth to reply but I interrupt her. "Get out."

"Andrew is just doing what he thinks is best."

"You know, Meredith said something similar. That doesn't make it or him right. If he has his way, it's all over, not just for you and me but for everyone. What happened in the Bronx was just the beginning."

Marino leaves me to stew in my own juices. How could things have gone wrong so fast?

#  Chapter Eighteen

It's not the pain or stiffness in my leg that awakens me. It is something else. For a moment, I think this is it but there is no assassin or shadowy figure ready to end my life. I am alone. It takes me a moment to focus on the source of my unease. I can sense its presence from across the room. The Bloodstone sits on my desk. It is empty, devoid of power and energy. It lacks the taint and greasy sensation I have come to associate with it. The ring looks like any other piece of jewelry but it is no less dangerous. If I did not know it so well, I would have sworn it was a fake.

I slip out of bed and claim my prize. After Marino's news, I had given up seeing the ring again. I was sure Meredith asked for it as part of his deal with the DIA. How did the Bloodstone get here? What does this mean? The questions keep me from going back to sleep. The answers are just out of my reach. I have no one to bounce ideas off of. All of my friends I would be comfortable talking to about this are not around. The only one I have a prayer of reaching is Nerva. She's not the best sounding board but she is good at taking my mind off of my problems. Maybe that's all I need right now. I just hope I can find her before Meredith makes his next move. I know it is going to be soon.

***

The hard part about visiting the doctor's office is the wait. No matter how early or late you arrive, you always end up waiting. Today, the wait is longer than usual. The office is crowded and there is paperwork to fill out. I look at some of the other patients and wonder what has brought them here. When it comes time to pay for this little visit, I find myself glad Scott is picking up the tab. Being a paranormal investigator and in business for myself means I don't have medical coverage.

The examination is short. My knee is coming along nicely. The doctor is surprised at the progress I have made since the operation. In another week or two, I won't need the crutches. That doesn't mean I'm in the clear. I still need some physical therapy if I want to restore full mobility to my knee. He also warns me to take it easy and not overdo things. That means using the crutches. If I follow his advice, the only thing I might have to worry about is a little arthritis. Other than that I'll be able to go back to my usual routine in practically no time. All in all, it's good news.

***

I decide to check up on Nerva. Scott would have mentioned if she was also dealing with this new problem. More than likely, she has been left to her own devices. I take the opportunity to go downtown to her place. Whenever I look for Nerva, I almost never start at her apartment. I always try to call her on the phone or check the places she likes to hang out in. There are two reasons for this. In part, it is because I don't think she will be in. The other reason is I am afraid she will be at home and either entertaining guests or hungry. As usual, there is no answer on Nerva's cell phone. This time, I leave a message on her voice mail. With nothing else to do but wait, I visit all of her usual hangouts. There are a lot of them. The crutches turn my search into an epic quest. Bars and clubs I navigated easily in the past are now complex warrens filled with traps and pitfalls. It's close to 2 am when I take a cab to her place. I am tired and desperate.

My heart sinks when I find the door to her apartment is unlocked. The interior is dark and foreboding, a far cry from its usual appearance. I fear the worst. In the dim light, it looks like a tornado or vengeful spirit has struck the place. I'm still playing catch up. Meredith is a step ahead of me. He's looking to remove me and my friends from the equation. Scott and Sol are already out of the fight and I'm just coming up to speed. There is nothing I can do here. I am about to leave when I hear a noise behind me. It's Nerva. She stands in the doorway of her apartment as if she had always been there, just waiting for me to turn around. Her black leather outfit looks like it was painted onto her tiny figure. It's not her usual look but it still takes my breath away. It brings to mind images from the comic books and movies. I am about to compliment her when she smiles at me.

Nerva has always had a way about her. She could turn any man on without ever speaking a word. This time, I find myself drawn to her. The siren's call would be irresistible if it weren't for my particular gift. Still, I move forward ignoring the instinct to limp away as fast as I can. This is my friend. She would never hurt me. I am close enough to smell her perfume. Its subtle scent reminds me of jasmine. Her voice is a breathy whisper.

"I've been looking for you."

She continues to smile at me but it no longer holds the promise of a long night of passion. There is only murderous intent. Nerva is going to hurt me and enjoy every minute of it. Before I can react to the danger, she attacks. A bomb goes off in my midsection; her punch lifts me off of my feet and launches me back into the apartment. I lose one of my crutches as I land awkwardly and off balance. It's a minor miracle I don't fall to the floor. This is not good. Even if I was one hundred percent, going toe to toe with a vampire or any other magical creature is something I try to avoid.

Nerva makes it easy to forget she is a vampire. Like a cat, she's always on the prowl, ever on the hunt for entertainment, willing to be pampered. At heart, she is still a predator. Her looks don't make her claws any less dangerous. She almost never uses any of her supernatural powers. Like everything about her, they are impressive. A while back, I asked her about that little quirk. Nerva said it was too easy and took the fun out of things. She preferred to do things the old fashioned way when it came to securing her meals and any number of creature comforts. With a laugh, she admitted she liked to play with her food. Even though she doesn't drink blood, the idea made me a little uneasy.

"I'm going to make you suffer," she growls.

As barbaric and unchivalrous as it might seem, I have no problem hitting women, especially when they are trying to kill me. I do have a problem with hitting my friends and hurting the people I care for. I pick up one of my crutches and swing it like I'm batting clean up for the Yankees. The blow catches her, buying me some time. Not much, she recovers rapidly and charges me again. I take another swing, hoping for a home run. This time she snatches the crutch out of my hands before I can hit her again. She tosses the mangled metal contemptuously over her shoulder. It gives me a moment to prepare for her next attack. When it comes, I parry aside the blow aimed at my face. I rely on my training to redirect the force of it and spin her off balance. It gives me a chance to grapple her.

"Nerva! Talk to me! What's going on?"

I'm talking for my own benefit. She doesn't answer me. I really didn't expect her to. Nothing I can say or do will get through to her. Instead, Nerva demonstrates how flexible she is. Combined with her strength, it is enough to break my hold. I find myself wondering if she can move like that in bed. Her next blow powers through my block. I fall to my hands and knees, gasping for air. Effortlessly, she picks me up by the scruff of my neck. I start to say something when she backhands me across the face, once and then a second time. The third slap is enough to dim the lights until Nerva shakes me.

"I want you awake for this, Meredith."

That burns away the cobwebs threatening to suffocate me. I should have realized what was going on a lot sooner. It might have saved me some trouble. She thinks I'm Meredith. Someone must have put a spell on her. Who did it? I put that thought and my concerns about her welfare to the side. I have to turn this around now or I won't live long enough to feel guilty about hurting her. I use my good leg to slam my knee into her side. There isn't a lot of power behind the kick but it has the desired effect. It hurts her. Nerva hurls me away from her. I smash into a bookshelf and slump to the floor.

I'm not going anywhere. After this short battle, I can't get up without help. It's over. The cat is almost done playing with her mouse. She takes her time coming towards me. I use the moment and breathing room to muster my willpower. There is only going to be one shot at this. I almost never use my gift consciously. It works fine on its own, protecting me from magic by directing it elsewhere. Kara had said with practice I could use it to affect magic on other people and items. I practiced just enough to be able to instinctively protect someone in close proximity of me but never for something like this. Nerva is almost on me when I get a handle on what I am doing. The spells and magic binding her are dispelled violently. She stiffens then drops like a puppet whose strings have been cut. As Nerva falls on top of me, there is no rush or thrill of victory. I just hurt a friend and I don't know how badly. I just breathe a sigh of relief that it is over. Now, I have another problem. Someone must have heard the racket. They'll call the police. We both need to be elsewhere but I can't move. Nerva's beating has taken its toll on me. I can only lie there wondering how I will talk my way out of this one.

***

"You're lucky my neighbors are used to the noise," Nerva says, "Usually there is a lot more screaming and banging."

"I don't feel lucky." I say.

Everything hurts when I even think about moving. Nerva was good enough to help me onto her couch. I just relax and try to find a position that is less painful than the last. It's a bit unfair. I won our little battle and I feel as weak as a kitten. Nerva is acting like nothing has happened. I watch her buzz around the apartment, straightening things up.

"Shouldn't you be taking it easy?"

"You're kidding, right? I'm fine, just a little hungry." The smile she flashes me is playful. "Don't worry. I'm not going to feed on you. You won't make much of a snack with the shape you're in right now."

"Thanks. You really know how to make me feel better."

"Well, I know a few ways to perk you up."

Her smile leaves no doubt as to just how she would accomplish that. I'm begin to feel better until I remember the last time she gave me that smile. It was right before she tried to kill me.

"Tell me, did you run into any Fae lately."

Her expression changes from playful to serious. "Yes, yes I ran into one the other night. There was a Fae at the Batcave. His name was Fitzgerald. He wanted to arrange a meeting with Sol. "

I've heard of it. I didn't realize Nerva hung out there, but it makes sense. The place caters to vampires and their guests. It's not my sort of place. Even though it's billed as neutral ground, you could end up paying a lot more than the cover charge if you're not careful.

"Did you do it?"

"You know Sol's rules. No one sees him unless they are vetted and I didn't know this Fitzgerald guy from Adam."

I focus my thoughts on Fitzgerald. Kara had mentioned my attacker had been under a glamour. It's one of the ways the Fae use magic. Part enchantment, part illusion and part act of creation, the Fae can use glamour to shape the world around them and the perceptions of those around them. There are numerous stories about the Fae and their magic. Remember Cinderella and how the fairy god mother turned a pumpkin into a carriage? That's a good example of how glamour can be used. It is their defense and protection in a world that is getting smaller every day. Like most forms of magic, the glamour has little effect on me, allowing me to see through their illusions and resist their enchantments much to the dismay of several Unseelie. My talent does have its limit. It doesn't protect me from anything created by the glamour. A sword forged from a tree limb can still kill m,e as I learned when I first encountered the Fae. Also, sufficiently powerful Fae can get by my gift.

"So what did this Fae look like?"

"He's an Unseelie with sharp teeth. You'll know him the moment you set eyes on him."

Nerva's description leaves a lot to be desired. So does this entire situation. Still, I trust her. If she says I will know him when I see him, I believe her.

"I'll keep an eye out for him. I think he tried to have me killed in the hospital."

"One thing, Count."

"What's that?"

"He's mine." She holds up a hand to stop me before I get started. "I'm serious, Count. That son of a bitch tried to turn me into his plaything. I was going to kill you and lord knows who else. He belongs to me."

"All right, have it your way. Do you mind if I crash here tonight?"

"Not at all, safety in numbers."

#  Chapter Nineteen

Her couch was just big enough to me to stretch out on. She would have let me sleep in her bed if I had asked. Somehow, I don't think I would have gotten any rest. It wouldn't be because we would have done something. I would have spent most of the night questioning my sanity instead of getting any sleep. We're past the point of being lovers, no matter how much she flirts with me. Nerva is a friend, one of my better ones. That's enough for the both of us. At least, that is what I keep telling myself.

It is well past noon when I wake up. Nerva is nowhere to be found, not even a note to say where she has gone. I try not to worry about it. She's a big girl and can take care of herself. I shower and clean up as best I can before heading home. Once more, I am forced to take it slow and easy. My crutches didn't survive last night's scuffle. Luckily, I have no trouble catching a cab back uptown.

Marino is waiting for me outside of my apartment building. Her expression is guarded. It doesn't betray her thoughts. I wonder why she is here until I remember the ring in my pocket.

"Let me guess, you need my help."

I move past her, continuing inside. If Meredith has made his move, I don't have time for these people.

"Count....." she warns. A touch of color appears on her cheeks. "I'm not about to apologize for doing my job but this is important."

The urgency in her voice stops me. Against my better judgment, I relent. "Okay, let's talk inside."

***

After I make some coffee for us, I settle down to hear the bad news. Marino doesn't drink. She just holds the cup as if she were drawing warmth from it.

"You have to understand, this is all so new to us. We didn't go to Meredith, he came to us. It was right after the incident. We were still trying to figure out what had happened. Meredith told us you and your friends were responsible for letting that thing loose. I didn't believe him but he did a good job of convincing my superiors this was at least partially your fault."

Every good story and great lie has an element of truth to it. I'm not sure how much truth was in Meredith's tale. The guilt I had been suppressing rose to the surface. Was I really partially to blame for this? A lot of people died and I could be the one responsible for it. No, I might have caused the building to fall but it's not my fault that thing got loose. Something else happened. I'm just not sure what.

"And what do you think?"

"I think you had nothing to do with that creature getting free. Meredith had convinced Andrew to give him your ring so he could cast a spell to imprison it again. According to him, it had to be cast in a certain place at a certain time."

My words are angry and bitter. "And after what I told you people, you let him?"

"I was against it!" Marino's words reflect my heat. She holds my gaze, not backing down. I concede the point, looking down into my own cup. "I told them it was stupid. We should at least consult with another expert in the field but there was no time. They wanted to have this wrapped up quickly."

"So what happened?"

She takes a deep breath before answering. "Whatever Meredith tried to do, it didn't work. That's when the ring vanished. He was livid. We all knew he was criminally insane but this.... It went beyond anything we had seen."

"And that's when you tried to take him to a padded room."

"Yes. That's when it showed up, the Servitor. He was in control of it the whole time. He was the one that let it loose from the building. I don't know why he didn't have it break him out of jail."

I don't know what causes her to shake. It could be the horror of the situation or the fact she and her co-workers were used. That's the problem when you sleep with the devil, you get burned. When Marino is able to speak again, I realize it is a combination of emotions that haunt her. "He laughed about how we had all played into his hands. All of those people dead and he laughed."

"I heard the speech before. Let me guess, he got away."

"Yes, we didn't have anything to stop that thing. It killed almost everyone. I barely got out of there." She pauses again, setting aside the coffee. "Is this the world you live in? Is this what you deal with?"

Marino is hurt and shaken. It is obvious she has lost a lot of friends and co-workers. I don't know anything I can say that will make her feel better. I settle for the truth.

"I'll help you get him. Don't worry. I'm not about to let him turn the world into an abattoir."

***

Marino stays with me the rest of the day and well into the night. She doesn't want to go even though she should. There is work to be done. She has to file a report about what happened. There's a manhunt to arrange. Meredith is a fugitive and she wants him brought in. As a favor to me, she stays at my place doing as much as she can from here. It's not the most efficient arrangement and her superiors might have questions for her. I haven't told her what it's about. I only mention it's important. I can tell the cryptic answer annoys her. That's better than being shell shocked. I'm still a little worried about her. Meredith exposed her to the darker side of magic. I need to show her the other side of things. I don't want her or her superiors getting the idea all magic is evil. It's obvious the DIA doesn't know much about this sort of thing. I don't want them to launch a modern day witch hunt or inquisition. I stay out of Marino's way until it is just before midnight.

"It's almost that time," I say.

"Time for what?"

"Time to begin your education. Come on."

I grab my coat and open the door for her. It takes her a few minutes to gather her things. Instead of heading downstairs, we go up to the roof. I can see the mixture of curiosity and suspicion at war on her features. Marino has good reason to be suspicious after what she had been through. She glossed over the details but I had seen the Servitor's handiwork. Being present while it slaughtered everyone in sight is something I don't want to think about. It would do things to anyone's head.

Finally, she asks, "What are we doing up here?"

"Don't be nervous. Nothing bad is going to happen."

Marino can't feel it yet. That will change soon. I take the remaining time to explain a few things to her. "There is a time when magic is at its strongest. It's called the Witching Hour."

"That's at midnight isn't it?"

"It is and it isn't. The name is a bit misleading. The amount of time varies. A lot depends on the stars, the sun and the moon. At the height of a full moon, the witching hour can last up to three hours. On nights with no moon, it might only be a few minutes."

Marino nods, not realizing what this has to do with her and why we are here. I point to the east, in the direction of Central Park. It's not visible from our vantage point. The buildings between us and the Park form a wall that hides it from view.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Not a thing." I smile. The world changes yet it remains the same. The laws of nature relax, loosening their hold. This is the Witching Hour. Her exposure to Meredith and his magic made her sensitive to the shift. It does the same to everyone who is exposed to magic. Some don't realize what it is they sense. Those that realize something special is happening have a choice to make.

It's not an easy one and there is no turning back once you make the decision. You can choose to enter the supernatural world or turn your back upon it. Almost no one takes the third option. Only a select few choose to walk in both worlds; the natural and the supernatural. The price for doing so is it that you're not fully a part of either world. It's the path I chose.

When I talk to most people about magic and the supernatural, they look at me like I am crazy. It's why I couldn't go back to my old life, I had changed too much. I can fit in and walk among the supernatural but at the end of the day I'm still only human no matter what I have seen and can do. Would I trade that away? No, it's what makes me who I am, so I walk this tightrope, making my own world that is a mix of the two, a world that Meredith has placed in grave danger.

There aren't many Fae left in the world. Few call the city their home. Those that do, live within or near Central Park. By the light of the stars and moon, they gather. Faerie fire erupts over Central Park. It is lost to all those not attuned or able to sense the Witching Hour. I'm used to the spectacle. It's something I take for granted until I look up into the night sky during the Witching Hour. It is a thing of beauty, the embodiment of their commitment to their home. It's absolutely mesmerizing. When Marino recovers from the sight, we descend to the city streets. When I walked with Kara before my confrontation with Meredith, I avoided all the places where I might run into my friends. I also took pains to avoid any supernatural types. This time, I seek them out. I give Marino a tour of my world, taking her to the more magical places of the city. It's not always pretty. To do this right, I have to show the good with the bad so she can make an informed decision.

At Lincoln Center, a street magician performs real magic disguising it as simple illusion and parlor tricks for the crowds leaving the opera house. We laugh as sprites soar and buzz around the oblivious skaters on the ice at Rockefeller Center. On Canal Street near the Manhattan Bridge, I point out a troll accosting passer bys for change. At the South Street Seaport, a siren sings her song. And so it goes. It is close to sunrise when we return to the roof of my building. I wonder what Kara is doing right now. I miss her. There were nights when we did nothing but look up at the stars together. Now it feels like I pissed all that away. Jennifer touches my arm. She looks to the east and the first rays of the sun, taking a deep breath. Some of the horror has been washed away. She still looks bewildered. Who wouldn't be? There's a lot to process. She has a lot of choices to make in the coming days.

"I see what you mean, Count." She smiles impishly, an expression I've never seen her use before. "It's something I had to experience firsthand. And you see and do this every day?"

"Not every day, but this is my world, the world between. If you're serious about wanting to learn about the supernatural, the price tag can be a bit high. It's up to you. Once you decide, there is no going back."

"Count." She leans closer, close enough for me to feel her warmth. "Will I be able to work magic?"

"Yes, probably to some degree."

"Can you work magic?"

"No. Not really, I can't touch it."

"I don't understand," she says.

I smile, resisting the urge to slip my arm around her. "Neither do I. The one that does isn't speaking to me right now."

Marino nods, perhaps hearing something in my voice. She murmurs, "Thank you."

We stand there as the stars flee the dawn, enjoying what could be a romantic moment. Her lips are dangerously close and like I fool I don't take advantage of the situation. I'm as human as the next person but I just can't do it. It wouldn't be fair to her or Kara, no matter how tempting. Instead, we just enjoy the sunrise and each others' company.

#  Chapter Twenty

Teachers and professors are a strange and wonderful lot. I don't mean the ones who see it as just another job. I'm talking about the dedicated ones. The rare ones you remember years later because of the lessons they taught you, even the ones not part of the curriculum. My physics teacher was one of those individuals. He was a man of science who still had the passion of an explorer and the soul of a philosopher. His lessons were eye opening. You always left his class thinking, not just about science, but about life and the way things worked. If he had a religion, it was education. He saw it as his duty to teach his students not only the subject matter but how to learn on their own. On the first day of class, he gave us all a warning. A closed mind, whether it's yours or someone else's, is a dangerous thing. It breeds intolerance and makes you unreceptive to new ideas. In his opinion, it has led to more trouble than anything else in this day and age. That sounded pretty accurate to me, especially now. An open mind is a prerequisite in my line of work. It also fits with my style. I like to look at things from different angles. Sometimes I can see things from someone else's point of view. It's helped me solve a lot of problems and avoid potential trouble. That's not to say I don't have my stubborn moments, but I try to be flexible and leave room for being wrong.

Being a teacher is a new role for me. Scott or Sol could probably do a better job at it than me, but it's not their responsibility. I took it upon myself to re-introduce Jennifer to the supernatural. I can't just let her stumble along blindly or foist her off on someone else. It wouldn't be right. So I struggle to pass on the lessons I learned while trying not to bore the hell out of her. It helps that I enjoy spending time with Jennifer. She's a fast learner and always full of questions. Later when she is ready to learn actual magic, I'll see that she gets a good teacher. For now, she's my responsibility.

Tonight, there isn't much to talk about except magic. Our efforts to track down Meredith have been fruitless. I'm about to make myself a drink when Jennifer brings up the Bloodstone.

"You never told me how you got the ring from Meredith."

"I didn't. It just appeared on my desk."

Jennifer is about to say, "That's impossible." Instead, she just smiles ruefully. Her world has gotten a bit more complicated now that magic is a part of it. It will take some time for her to make the adjustment.

"There is had to be a reason someone sent you the ring." She says.

Jennifer has made a lot of progress over the last week. She thinks someone must have used magic to take the ring from Meredith and send it to me. There is another possibility.

"It could have come to me on its own. The Bloodstone might be attuned to me. I was told no one would be able to use it but me if that happened."

"Where did you get it from anyway?"

"It's a long story," I say.

"Aren't they all?" she replies.

***

As a child, I never spent as much time in Van Cortlandt Park as I would have liked. Even though it was in the same borough, it was far enough away to make travel there inconvenient. It wasn't the largest or most famous park in the city. It didn't need those honors. From its winding forested trails to its wide open fields, Van Cortlandt Park is a place of marvels. You never had to look hard to find something to do, especially at this time of year. It's the end of spring and the beginning of summer. On a nearby field, the Big Apple Circus is putting up their big top and preparing to entertain the masses. I keep promising myself to catch their show. Sadly, it's one of those promises I always break. As we leave the parade grounds behind, Kara's thoughts touch me across the link bringing a smile to my face.

" _You're in a good mood._ "

" _Why shouldn't I be in one? Things have been going our way. I'm doing okay in my new line of work. I got to save a damsel in distress. What could go wrong?_ "

She doesn't reply immediately. We both know I got lucky that time. It could have been a lot worse if Hagan wasn't there. The bouncer at the Jesse James, and self proclaimed immortal, drew a lot of fire. Together, we managed to solve Wendy's little stalker problem. If I had been there by myself, I would most likely be dead. I have no illusions about my ability to fight off a bar full of people looking to rip me apart. Since that night, I have been a bit more careful as I learned the trade. There was a lot to pick up. Even though Kara won't say it, she thinks I am making excellent progress.

" _Yes, but don't let it go to your head._ "

I nod. One of the leading causes of death in this business, besides blind stupidity, is overconfidence. It's why Sol asked me to accompany Timothy on this little gig. Sol didn't get the title "Solomon the Wise" because he took unnecessary chances. It's his knowledge that comes from experience which makes him a master at his craft. Sometimes I take it for granted. He's my friend first and sorcerer second. Today, I am on Sol's payroll. My partner has more experience than me as a paranormal investigator but he lacks my little talent, not to mention Kara's brilliant insight and welcome companionship.

" _Flatterer._ "

I am about to reply to Kara when Timothy ruins the moment by speaking. It's not what he says but how he says it.

"Let me handle this, Count."

I don't know what he thinks I'm here for, but it's not to take orders. Maybe he thinks, I'll just slow him down or cramp his style. Either way, I'm not having it.

"Yes massa. I's follow your lead massa."

"Are you trying to be funny?" he asks.

"You're quick, I like that."

Kara chuckles softly. " _One of these days, we'll have to work on your people skills._ "

Timothy frowns as he turns to face me. "Look, I'm allowing you to tag along as a favor to my employers."

"And here I thought it was because your employers wanted you to have some backup. Let's just get this over with. I'll follow your lead, but keep the orders to a minimum."

Timothy mutters something too quiet for me to catch. It is enough to dispel Kara's good humor.

" _I don't like or trust him,_ " Kara says.

" _Neither does Sol. That's why we're here._ "

What I get in return is the equivalent of a mental nod. " _Just be careful. He doesn't care about you._ "

" _I would be worried if he did._ "

" _That's not funny. You know what I mean._ "

" _Yeah, I do._ "

I give Timothy the once over again. He seems like an okay guy but I don't think we will ever be buddy buddy. He was dead set against me accompanying him. It couldn't have been about the money. Hell, I could care less about it. I'm here because Sol asked me to be. More importantly, I wanted to see this through. When I helped out Wendy with her stalker, I stumbled onto a much bigger situation. Her stalker was using a powerful magic item to try and charm her. He wasn't the only one, weeks later another item turned up in the hands of a cat burglar. Contrary to popular belief, powerful magic items aren't all that common.

There are three classes of magic items. The first is used by spellcasters to help them work magic. They can take many forms, though a majority resembles your stereotypical magic wands and staves of power. The second are those items enchanted to work a particular effect. Potions and charms fall into this category and, like the first type, their form can vary. I've seen gems that hold a spell and scrolls that could be read to produce a magical effect. In these cases, the magic can only be used once before the item is either consumed or drained of power. I like to call the last type, 'Class Three.' These items are imbued with a lasting or permanent effect. Their powers and strength vary. Some, like Excalibur, are the stuff of legends. To make these types of items requires a lot of time, effort and skill. With magic the way it is, only the most skilled practitioners can create such items. Even so, none can match the power of the items created in the early days. Any truly powerful item you come across was more than likely made a very long time ago. It was these items that were turning up. When these things turn up in such quantities, people get a little concerned. Especially when they start to fall into what Sol likes to call "the wrong hands." That usually means anyone's hands but his and a few close personal friends. In this case, I found myself agreeing with him.

As Sol searched for where these items were coming from, I worked with Hagan and others in the business to confiscate the more dangerous and powerful items. After weeks of hard work, we had done just that. The only thing left to do was to check out the place where they had all come from. I would have felt better with Hagan here but as he put it, there was no glory to be had crawling around in a cave. Instead, Timothy was hired by one of Sol's associates to take Hagan's place.

The park is far from being unexplored but there are parts of it that see little if any traffic. Out here on the back trails and in the hills, it feels like you're no longer in the city. It was here I would hike and explore. All the while, I imagined I was some brave explorer seeking adventure in some far away land. Occasionally, the city sounds or noise from the highway would dispel the illusion as I hiked through the park. Today, I am back on those same trails with Timothy. This is my turf even though I have not been here in years. It takes us some time to find the trail marker we are looking for and to get our bearings. From there, it's a long walk to the edge of the park that borders Westchester County and Yonkers. Here, the park takes on a different feel. The forested trail becomes more ominous while the hills seem more daunting. Garbage blown in from elsewhere litters the trails.

This is a part of the park I never visited in my youth and for good reason. There is danger here. Back then, it was only muggers and pedophiles I feared but now I can sense something else. Kara and Timothy feel it too.

"Maybe, it was a good idea to bring backup after all," Timothy says.

Kara's words mirror my own thoughts, " _I wish we hadn't come here._ "

I frown as we find the cave. It's not much more than a jagged crack in the side of a rock face. Uninviting and hazardous, it is not the sort of place I would enter if given a choice in the matter.

"Remember what I said about following your lead? That means you get to go in first," I say.

"Thanks."

Timothy doesn't bother trying to hide the sarcasm. I can't blame him but I am not about to go in there first. If you want to play leader, you should lead from the front. At least, we both came prepared. With flashlights in hand, we move closer to the crack. Our feeble lights do little to pierce the gloom and doom that awaits us. One of these days, I'm going to have to invest in a Maglite and some glow sticks for this sort of occasion.

Timothy navigates the jagged opening, careful to avoid the sharp rocks tailor made to snag on his clothing or rip skin.

"Any idea what's inside?"

The question is meant for Kara but I get an answer from Timothy that doesn't help my piece of mind.

"Trouble. You better get in here."

I turn sideways to make entering a bit easier. It's still slow going. When I step into the cavern, I wish I had remained outside. It's bigger than I thought it would be, extending down and into the hill. Without a doubt, this place is the source of the magic items we have been recovering. The broken coffers and open chests don't seem nearly as important as the scorch marks on the floor and walls. The charred remains off to the side of the opening is nothing more than a pile of blacken bones twisted in a pattern that only dying in agony can produce. I nearly miss the pedestal of black stone that sits at the far end of the cave. A golden ring catches the light, calling attention to itself amid the darkness. Timothy is already crossing the room to the ring while I stare at the corpse. It's not the first time I have seen death. It's something I hope I will never get used to. What caused this? Who is Mr. Crispy? Kara's warning answers one of my questions.

" _There is a spirit here,_ " she says.

" _Like a ghost?_ "

" _Maybe. There are many different kinds of spirits._ "

If a spirit did all of this, it is definitely not friendly. Timothy is almost to the pedestal when I call out.

"Wait. There is a spirit here."

"Good," He says.

"Good?"

"Use your head, Count. It's probably a ghost. If we can get it to manifest, we can learn about this place."

Kara is shocked into silence while I just stare at Timothy as if he had announced his intentions to go screw my sister. His line of reasoning is flawed. If he is correct, it would be a fast and easy way to get some answers but that is a big if. The spirit could be the ghost of Mr. Crispy or something else. It also assumes the spirit is willing and able to communicate with us.

" _I think we are dealing with an elemental or worse._ "

" _Worse?_ "

" _A demon._ "

"Whoa! Whoa! And whoa!!"

My sudden exclamation and justified panic doesn't stop Timothy. He's made up his mind and set his course. He doesn't quite shout but he speaks loud enough to be heard throughout the cave.

"We see that you died in a fire. Want to talk about it? How did it feel?"

"What the hell are you thinking?!?"

I sense rather than hear Kara's sharp intake of breath. I can't even imagine the look on my face. I know provoking a spirit is an effective method to get a response. The problem is the response is usually not a positive one. True to form, the booming titanic laughter that bounces off the walls of the cave proves my point. Hagan would love this.

Kara forces herself to remain calm. " _It's a demon._ "

I am sorely tempted to say something smart but that would mean using my brain power for something other than getting out of here with my skin and soul intact.

" _It's guarding the ring on the pedestal._ "

Okay, that explains why the ring is still here while the rest of the room has been ransacked. It could have cared less about the rest of the stuff in here, as long as the ring was untouched. An icy hand threatens to pull out my lungs as I mull that thought over. That other stuff we traced here were all Class Three items. That ring, whatever it is, must be uniquely dangerous and powerful. I move a little closer to Timothy, who is also getting over his surprise. What galls me about this whole thing is the way he is looking at me. His expression shouts, "This is your fault".

"We need to spread out. That's no ghost" He says.

"Shut the hell up."

The laughter continues, though nothing takes form or shape. There is just a presence that means to do us great bodily harm. When it speaks, its voice is tinged with amusement. The tone reminds me of a young boy about to pluck the wings off of a butterfly so he can take his time frying it under a magnifying glass. There is no thought given to how the butterfly might feel, just his own sadistic pleasure.

"You are here for one of three reasons. All carry the same consequences. Since neither one of you appears to be priests, we can rule out the first. The second is that you have come here by accident. That is most unfortunate for you but a welcome diversion from my boring vigil. The last and most likely possibility is that you have come for Bloodstone. In which case, I get to mix business with pleasure."

" _The Bloodstone?_ "

I'll ask Kara about that later when I am not busy thinking about how much pain a demon's pleasure can inflict on me. What I need right now is some advice on how to deal with this thing when she calls out another warning. " _Look out!_ "

There is a rush of power. My skin feels painfully warm as if I am standing too close to a bonfire but I don't burst into flames like the rest of the cavern. My talent saves me from an agonizing death. It also saves Timothy as I redirect the magic away from us. It's a useful gift for an aspiring paranormal investigator.

Kara yells " _We need to get out of here!_ "

"It seems one of you has a bit of power. This might make things interesting," The demon says.

I don't know how interesting that will be. Kara is right. I need to get out of here. If I stick around much longer, I'm a dead man. My gift, as I like to call it, doesn't have any major downsides, but it does have its limits. I've learned it can protect me against all but the strongest of magic. That came in handy when me and Hagan were confiscating all those magic items but I also found out it is useless against the byproducts and side effects of a spell. Smoke from a magical fire as it consumes the chests and other flammable material in the cave can still suffocate me. Air heated to extreme temperatures by those same flames can still burn my lungs. I'm in trouble. It's enough for me to forget about Timothy. He'll have to fend for himself while I rack my brains for a way out of this. Who am I kidding? We'll never make it out the crack and into fresh air. I can't even see because of all the smoke and fire.

In between hacking coughs, Timothy barks something out in a language I don't understand. I take in a lung full of bad air. Kara screams something and so does Timothy but it is the demon whose words I hear.

"IT IS DONE!!"

I can barely make out the smoke and fire coalescing briefly into a humanoid shape. As I choke and cough, it surges and flows into Timothy's form. There isn't anything nice or good about this development.

Kara growls, " _That fool!_ "

I turn my thoughts inward now that I am no long in danger of dying in the next few seconds. The smoke and flames disappear from the cavern as suddenly as they had appeared. I can breathe again.

"What?"

I'm not angry or annoyed at Kara, far from it. It's just that near death experiences really put me on edge.

"He made a pact with that thing!"

"What do you mean 'a pact'? You mean like a deal with the devil?"

"Yes."

This unexpected development has put her in a foul mood and my questions aren't helping. I direct my next one at Timothy.

"What did you do?"

He doesn't try to lie. We both know what he's done.

"I did what I had to. It was that or die."

I open my mouth and then close it. There is no point in trying to argue with him. It won't change a thing. What's done is done. It's his next statement that nearly causes me to punch him out, demonic pact or no.

"You would have done the same thing if you knew how."

"Not bloody likely," I growl.

Timothy takes a step back from the truth and hostility in my words. Maybe, his bargain allows him to see me in a new light. "You're not one to judge. I am a reflection of you, Count. We are both bound to higher powers. There isn't much difference between us."

Is he serious? It's a rhetorical question. You can't get much more serious than this. I call Kara my guardian angel but in truth, I don't know who she is or where she comes from. She could be a spirit or any number of things. It's not important. What is important is that she cares for me and deep down I know beyond a shadow of a doubt she would never try to control me.

" _I don't, I can't possess you,_ " She says and I believe her.

" _I know. Whatever choices I make are my own. I'm just glad you're here for me when I need you._ "

Aloud, I say, "You don't know what you're talking about so I'll let that slide."

Timothy shrugs away my words and glare. He is correct about one thing. Like it or not, he is a reflection of me, backwards. On the surface, there might be similarities but it ends once you take a closer look.

"Look, maybe we could have found a way to beat him, maybe not. At least, this way we all come out ahead."

"Well then, you'll have no problem with me claiming the Bloodstone."

Timothy's smile falters. His expression shifts and changes too fast to be that of what I would call a sane man or someone totally in control of himself. For a moment, I think I will have a fight on my hands. I find myself almost hoping for one when whatever internal debate or struggle there was ends. "It is yours if you can take it but I wouldn't touch it. Its power is dangerous to ones such as us."

"And if I insist."

"It is your life to toss away"

I didn't know if it was Timothy speaking or his partner. His words gave me pause. You don't assign a demon to guard something unless it's valuable, dangerous, powerful, or all of the above but there was no way I was going to just leave it here.

" _It's safe for you. Take it,_ " Kara says.

And that was that. Timothy ignored me as I made my way over to the pedestal. He had some adjustments to make and things to discuss with his new partner. I left him to it though Kara kept a close watch on him in case they tried anything.

Up close, the ring didn't look like much. Made of gold and set with a deep green stone, it looked like any other piece of jewelry. The crimson bands were barely visible in the darkness of the cave. I reach out to touch the ring. There is a strangeness to it that I can't quite identify. With effort, I get past the sensation only to hear Kara say the unspeakable.

" _The Bloodstone is yours, Count._ "

I shake my head as I leave the cave and Timothy behind. After this, I want nothing to do with him. I won't be alone in that sentiment. Sol and many others in the community have a thing about demons and the possessed. Most will have nothing to do with Timothy. Others might want to kill him. The rest might have a use for him but those aren't the sort of people I do business with.

"I'm not going to keep it. I'll turn it over to Sol the first chance that I get. He and Scott will know what to do with it."

I didn't want to admit to Kara or myself but the ring scared me as much as Timothy and his new partner did.

***

"Possessed?!?" Jennifer lowers her voice with some effort. "Like in the Exorcist?"

I pick my words very carefully. No matter how I try to explain it, there is no good or delicate way to put it. "The difference is that he's a willing participant."

She looks at me as if I had just totaled her brand new car. That difference is an important one. To exorcise a spirit or a demon from someone, a part of them, no matter how small and frightened, has to want to be free. Timothy is quite happy with the deal. It is one of the reasons why I don't count him among my friends. He isn't the issue. I've been avoiding the real issue, letting myself get distracted. I can't afford that luxury any longer. Too much has happened that I don't understand. There are too many players in this game and the stakes keep going up.

"Jen, I need to call someone. Can we pick this up tomorrow?"

"As long as it's not Timothy," She says.

Sometimes, it is hard to tell where the man ends and the demon begins. It's like the two were made for each other. Timothy's pact gives him a few advantages over his fellow man while his partner gets to avoid a lot of weaknesses demons and spirits have when it comes to possessing people.

"Not a chance. Let's face it. Dealing with the forces of darkness is one thing. Letting them move into your body is a different story. No, I have someone else in mind. Someone I trust with my life."

#  Chapter Twenty One

Jennifer is gone. I am alone now. The apartment feels so empty. It's funny when Kara was with me, I was never alone. I had forgotten what it felt like. Even when she left, I knew she would always come back to me. It's not that we never disagree but this time is different. Usually, we patch things up within a day or two at the most. This time, there is something more to Kara's absence. In anger, I crossed a line. I miss her and I'm not sure how to fix things between the two of us. I could just sit and wait. Even though waiting isn't one of my strong suits, it would be easy compared to the alternative. It's always easier to ignore a problem and let it fester. No, I can't do it. Wheels are in motion. I need to act.

I rely on Kara a lot. It's not a bad thing having someone who is always there to look after you. There is a problem when you're totally dependent on someone. I'm not exactly helpless without her but I'm also not at my best. From the start, Kara has been teaching me about the supernatural and giving me much needed advice. Without her help, I would have died on several occasions but I have always resisted her when it came to learning more about my gift. I've always tried to avoid using it on a conscious level. It was easier to make excuses. I could solve any problem or case that came my way without having to practice with my talent. To be honest, I was having way too much fun living a life of adventure. It helped me avoid the truth. There is a price for such a gift. I was given this power to stop people like Meredith. When the time came to do just that, I failed. Things might have turned out a lot differently if I was able to use my power to drain the Bloodstone safely. I could have dealt with Meredith easily.

Damn me for a fool. A lot of pain and heartbreak could have been avoided. So what do I do now that I realize my mistake? I don't repeat it. To do that and get through this, I need information and advice. I need Kara. Not only is she the only one who can help me, I miss her and it's time to set things right between us. So, what's my first step? I need to contact her. The only way to do it is via our link. Sounds simple but like any first step, it is difficult. I've never used the link to contact her. It's always been the other way around. I'm not even sure if such a thing is possible. I know a fair amount about magic and the supernatural but less than nothing about the link and my own talent. Lately, I've been a bad student. There were always other things to learn and do. I have to change that before my next encounter with Meredith.

Meditation is also not one of my strong suits. Some practice it for health reasons, while others for personal development or religious reasons. It usually involves turning your attention and thoughts inward, something I have a lot of practice doing. When I try to focus on my breathing or clear my mind, a million little details usually rise up to distract me. What I do now is different. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, falling into a steady rhythm. Instead of meditating, I focus my thoughts on Kara and the link we share. The link is still there and unbroken, a pleasant reminder of just how close the two of us have become over the years.

I remember the first time I saw her. I was in the hospital just after my "accident". At the time, I didn't know what had happened to me. Maybe it was too traumatic for me to remember. For all I know, Meredith or his father used some sort of spell to make me forget. The oxygen tent and IV frightened me but not as much as waking up alone in an unfamiliar place. I was in pain, the most pain I had ever felt in my young life. That wasn't the worst part. The worst part was I couldn't speak. I couldn't even scream for help. It was the first time in my life I was truly and utterly afraid. This was no boogey man or nightmare that on a subconscious level I knew wasn't real. No, this was frighteningly real, as real as the hands that had tried to crush my throat. Then I saw her. She didn't have wings or a halo but she was a dark haired angel. Her smile put me at ease. A smile I knew was only for me.

"Don't be afraid," she said. "I'm here."

Those simple words made everything all right. Kara stayed with me that long first night. To pass the time, she told me stories about knights in shining armor and heroes. I soon forgot my pain as the fear gave way to wonder. As dawn approached, she shared a secret with me. Magic was still alive in the world. Myth and legend still walked the Earth. If I wanted it to, I could walk in that world. As I regained my strength and healed, I didn't tell my mom or relatives about Kara. She said they wouldn't understand and I believed her. As I grew older, I always remembered her and the stories she told me though the secret was lost to me.

Years later, I saw her again. I was twenty five and fresh out of college. I thought I knew all there was to know about life, the universe, and everything. Yeah, I wasn't too bright back then. I like to think I've gotten smarter. You might not be able to tell with the way things have been going for me lately.

I had gone down to Oklahoma City on short notice. The promise of an exciting job and romance were enough to lure me out of New York City. Needless to say, things did not go as planned. With little money and less choice, I was forced to take the bus back to New York. Like most bus terminals, the one in Oklahoma City looked like it belonged to another time. It fit the lone ticket master who worked there perfectly. Like the vending machines that lined the walls, he appeared old and weathered. As I stepped up to buy my ticket, I saw through the illusion he projected. There was nothing weak or decrepit about the man. His eyes seemed wise to the world and all the tricks it might have in store for the unwary. After checking my ID, he wasted little time booking my trip. It felt like he knew far more about me than he should have. I dismissed the thought. Since then, I've learned to pay a bit more attention to my instincts.

"Not the best time of year for a bus trip," he said.

Yeah, he was right about that. Even though it was only Mid-November, winter had come early. A long bus ride was not going to be pleasant.

"Are you sure about this? You could wait till the weather gets a little warmer. Maybe things will turn around for you?"

The question should have bothered me. This time was different. I was at a crossroads. I didn't have to scurry back home. There was an alternative. I could tough it out down here a while longer. In a week, I could fly back home in style. No, the road called to me. The long bus ride would give me time to think. Sometimes I wonder what things would have been like if I had stayed in Oklahoma City the extra week. I paid for my ticket with cash.

"Good luck, Count. You're going to do fine."

An odd thing to say, then again the whole trip was odd. It felt like fate had conspired to get me down to Oklahoma City only to take a crap on me. I looked back only once as I boarded my bus but the old man was nowhere to be seen.

The trip was worse than I thought it would be. Not only did the bus stop at every small town in Oklahoma, the temperature dropped to an all time low. Not even the body heat from all the people crammed into the bus with me made it feel any warmer. Sleep was impossible. At night, my fellow passengers held snoring contests. During the day, they seemed to take pleasure in having loud conversations about nothing. It wouldn't have been so bad if there were something to do besides look out the window. I hadn't even packed a book or brought a magazine to read.

Things changed the next night. Everything had become so surreal. The stars came out to play, lighting the ocean of darkness the world had become. The towns and intersections had become islands of light. Cars and trucks passed us by like ships in the night heading for distant far away lands.

At a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, I got off the bus to stretch my legs and to look up at the night sky. There under the stars, I saw it. A shape and form from legend peered at me from the shadows as if it had been waiting there all these years for me to wander this way. As the dragon took flight, it came to me in a rush, the secret I had forgotten.

Maybe it wasn't real, maybe it was just a product of my imagination. Whatever it was, it opened my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I saw the world through the eyes of a child. I felt the magic in the air and could sense what lurked in the shadows. Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. Hell, I was there and it still doesn't make any sense to me. That's how these things work. Very few revelations make sense. Of course, this one had its price. The fear had returned. Fear I had not known since childhood. It was never about pain. It was fear of the unknown and of being alone. There I was, feeling more alone than I had ever felt before, with no rudder or compass to guide me in a world I didn't know as well as I had thought. I could feel my hold on reality weakening when I heard her voice again.

"Don't be afraid," she said. "I'm here."

And just like that, everything was all right. My fear and doubt disappeared as I saw her. Kara hadn't changed a bit. She was just as beautiful as I remembered her. It was impossible but that didn't matter. I felt the link and the warmth of her thoughts. I knew she wouldn't be leaving me. Even after all this time, I still have trouble putting it into words.

I let my thoughts and feelings for Kara flow into the link. It's easy and it's not easy. The link doesn't allow for anything but the truth and sensations. There is still a sense of privacy. Kara can't read my mind unless I let her and vice versa. It lets us keep the things we want private. There are parts of me I never want anyone to see but whatever we share across the link has to be honest and open. Tonight, I do the unthinkable and think the words that come so hard to me. "I'm sorry."

I hear her voice again and I know it's not a dream or a memory. "I'm sorry," she says.

With the hard part out of the way, it gets easier. We share with each other why we got angry and did what we did. Kara says I have been reckless and taking more chances than usual. She's afraid, I'm not ready for what's coming while I think she has been a little overprotective and doesn't trust me with the information she has been holding back. It doesn't matter who is right or wrong, we compromise before spending the rest of the night renewing our partnership and just enjoying each other's company. Meredith, the quest, the DIA, everything, it can all wait.

#  Chapter Twenty Two

The demands of work force Jennifer to leave me to my own devices. Jennifer? When did that change? When did I start thinking of her as Jennifer instead of Marino?

" _When you decided to trust her,_ " Kara says.

I smile, glad for her company and the chance to take a break from my exercises. The weights and exercise bike that Jennifer had delivered to the apartment are a good alternative to visiting my physical therapist. It allows me to work out each day and to set my own pace instead of two or three times a week. The exercises are painful and tend to wear me out, but after a week I notice the difference they have made. I still need the knee brace but the crutches are a thing of the past.

" _Tell me about the Awakening._ "

I hate asking, maybe as much as she hates answering. It feels like I am dredging up something best left in the past but I need to know whatever it was Scott had to tell me.

" _Some believe that it's inevitable. When the Seven awaken, a new age will begin._ "

" _Are you saying I can't beat Meredith?_ "

Kara doesn't answer immediately. " _No, I'm saying there are people out there who think it's only a matter of time before they awaken. Those aren't the ones to worry about. The dangerous ones are people like Meredith who work to hasten their return._ "

I consider her words. Nothing lasts forever. Oceans rise and civilizations fall. It's the way of things. The problem is people like Meredith who want to hasten the fall. Still, the only reason for not sharing this with me is because Kara thinks that day might be close. Over the years, magic has become weaker; the same magic holds the Seven at bay. There might not be a way to stop them.

Kara shakes her head. " _Even I can get a little scared. It caused me to doubt you, us._ "

I nod, knowing exactly how she feels. There have been times when it seemed smarter to bet on the other side. It would be too easy if everything was preordained and written in stone. It's not. Everything is a product of our actions or inaction. True, there are things that are out of our control. You can call it luck, destiny or the universe conspiring against you. These events might create opportunities or take them away from you but it all comes down to what you do in that moment. So where do seers, prophets and prophecy fit in? It's like dealing with your average stock market analyst. He or she isn't always correct but the good ones can tell you what is most likely to happen with the market based on current events and trends. The important thing is what you do with that information. Kara believes in me. I'm not going to dwell on it. There are other matters to think about.

"Y _ou smell,_ " she says.

Ouch, that hurt. I get the distinct image of Kara wrinkling her nose and waving a hand to ward me off. I stop pedaling and dismount from the exercise bike. Maybe it is time for a break. I have to be careful not to overdo it and stick to the program the therapist gave me. Too much exercise is as bad as too little.

" _You need a shower,_ " she adds.

"Is it that bad?" I take another sniff and frown.

" _Yes it is._ "

***

I can almost forget Meredith is still out there, almost. A walk down the street or a visit to the store reminds me of how much things have changed. There is a climate of fear. People are afraid. Most still think it's a simple matter of terrorism. Others have made wilder claims that come closer to the truth. Even if we caught Meredith tomorrow, things will never go back to the way they were. He's left his mark on the city. No one can be trusted. Meredith was considered a philanthropist and an upstanding member of the community. If he could be a mass murder and a terrorist, who else could be? Does that guy next to you have some dark secret to hide? Different is now a synonym for suspicious.

" _You can't blame yourself for this,_ " Kara says.

I don't have an answer for her. I'm not the one who let the Servitor loose but I did contribute to the problem. We all did. The signs were there and none of us heeded them until it was too late. Things shouldn't have gotten this far. Now the powers that be, both mundane and magical, flail about looking for Meredith. It won't correct our earlier mistakes. What's done is done. He needs to be found before he can do something else. The longer he is on the loose the more dangerous he becomes. I've seen his handiwork. I know what he is capable of. Still, I ask the question. What is he up to? The only thing he has tried to do since disappearing is try to have me killed and make life difficult for my friends. That's bad enough, but not the worst he could be doing. Is he that petty to waste time with me? Is it a simple matter of revenge or something else?

" _He thinks you can stop him from awakening the Seven._ "

"Can I? Meredith didn't act like it before. It seems like the only thing I've done is delay him."

I think it over some. Maybe that's enough. A lot of magic comes down to timing. Some spells can only be cast at certain times and in certain places. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside when the opposition thinks you're actually a threat. When the moment passes, I remember the downside. The bad guys tend to make eliminating you a priority. Meredith is no exception. I was a lot safer when he thought I was a minor annoyance. He's going to keep sending people my way till one of them succeeds. That makes it even more important to find him.

" _What are you going to do?_ "

" _I'm going to use my head and find him._ "

Kara doesn't say anything. She's not sure what I have planned. I can sense her relief when I start pulling out the research I did on Meredith weeks earlier. Before, I had just been going through the motions, not accomplishing a damn thing. Now it's time to get to work.

" _For a moment, I thought you were going to pound the pavement and look for him._ "

"You think I should?"

I smile, already knowing the answer without her having to voice it. I try to learn from my mistakes, not repeat them. I really don't want to run into Meredith or any of his friends by myself. Kara remains silent as I thumb the information I got from the library. She doesn't want to disturb me as I re-familiarize myself with the information and the notes I made. I still don't have a complete picture of the man and who he is but I have enough for my purposes. I close my eyes and do the unthinkable. I put myself in Meredith's shoes. It is a frighteningly and surprisingly easy fit.

Meredith is committed to awakening the Seven. In his mind, it's the only way to create a better tomorrow. He's willing to tear down the world as we know it. Nothing is going to stand in his way. It meant crossing a line most sorcerers were unwilling or unable to cross. Even so, he has been thwarted but he can't give up. Meredith has to stay the course. His survival depends on it. He has to try again. It's that simple. How he does it and his next step depends on information that's not in my file. I turn my thoughts and questions to Kara.

" _Can he awaken the Seven without the Bloodstone?_ "

Kara doesn't answer immediately. She knows I'm not going to like the news and she is right. " _It wouldn't be easy, even for him, but yes he could do it._ "

" _I thought that might be the case._ "

The Bloodstone's ability to store magic makes it a valuable tool for any sorcerer or magic user. It would make any major undertaking easier, but it's more than that. The ring was made to do this sort of thing. Without it, Meredith has to do things the hard way. That gives me hope.

" _Why are you smiling?_ "

"Stop me if something sounds out of whack here. If Meredith wants to awaken the Seven, it means casting a complex spell or some kind of ritual."

" _How does this help us?_ "

"Meredith is going to need everything working in his favor. He's only going to get one chance at this. Too many people are after him. That means he's going to try his ritual when magic is at its peak."

Kara nods in agreement. " _So he'll make his attempt during the next full moon at the height of the Witching Hour._ "

"Yes, if we give him that much time. He's not about to wait longer than that. The longer he does, the more likely it is someone will find him."

" _Count, we still don't know where he will be._ "

"Even if he had the Bloodstone, it wouldn't do him any good in the short term. We drained the stone of its energy. Meredith needs to power his spell some other way."

There are a lot of ways he can do it. Meredith is fond of sacrificing people and things. When he needed to cast his tracking spell, one of his own men became the fuel for the spell. Meredith could have gotten the power another way but he didn't. For all his skill and power, it's a habit he always falls back on. Maybe, that's all he knows. He would have to kill a lot of people to gather the energy needed for his purposes. Meredith would need a way to store the energy until he was ready to use it. If he had a way of doing that, he wouldn't have needed the Bloodstone. Kara fills my mind with a replay of the tape Jennifer had shown me. A mass sacrifice just before he cast his spell might work. No, if it was that easy he would have done it already. My instincts tell me I am on the right track.

"Meredith will have to cast his spell in a place of power. It's the only way to get the energy he needs. Even then, it might not be enough."

Kara looks for a hole in my theory. She can't find any. It's pretty sound. She does point out a problem.

" _That's a lot of ground to cover,_ " She says.

True. A city the size of New York has many places where it is easier to work magic. These are the places with a rich history. Each has a unique vibe or feeling. Even the mundanes can feel the energy. It's this intangible force a talented sorcerer or mage can draw upon to aid him. Unfortunately for Meredith and fortunately for us, many of those places are public. He can't go to Lincoln Center and hope to cast his spell, even with the Servitor as his bodyguard. Too much can go wrong. He's still mortal. All it will take is one bullet to stop him. I'm sure the authorities will have no qualms about shooting to kill after what happened in the Bronx. He'll have to use some place private.

" _Count, you're assuming he is still in the city._ "

"He's not about to leave. It's too risky with all the people looking for him."

Contrary to popular belief, the authorities make it real difficult for wanted criminals to flee the city, let alone the country. In this case, his fame and love for publicity are working against him. Famous people have a harder time running and hiding than us no names.

" _Okay but where is he?_ "

The list of places Meredith can use is actually quite short. The public ones are too dangerous for Meredith to use. That leaves the privately owned ones. Only a few of those will have enough energy for Meredith's needs and all of them will be closely guarded. Their owners would fight anyone tooth and nail to prevent someone from using their place of power without permission.

"He has a Fae helping him. That's a good place to start. I'm betting Meredith will use one of their places of power but we'll cover the others, just in case."

Kara considers that. I can sense her smile. Yep, this feels right. It fits. I can ask Jennifer to have her people stake out the public places. For the rest, I need to cash in a few favors. I pick up the phone and start making calls.

#  Chapter Twenty Three

When I call my friends, it soon becomes apparent we need a place where we can sit down and talk. Meeting in public is out of the question. It's going to be one of those conversations that would be sure to turn heads. We usually used Scott's apartment for this type of thing. It had everything one could want; space, luxury, convenience, and privacy. With Scott out of the country, it's not an option. I'm not about to call him and ask to use his apartment. There is the chance he might say yes but I would never hear the end of it.

The next logical place to meet is Sol's library. His library is well suited to meetings even if it isn't as luxurious or convenient as Scott's place. Any information we might need would be close at hand and within easy reach. Unfortunately, Sol is incommunicado. There is no way to get to his library until he is down handling that other problem Scott mentioned. That doesn't leave too many other options. My studio apartment is a bit too small for what I had in mind. I don't think anyone would appreciate being packed into my apartment like sardines. Nerva's place is roomy with plenty of style and creature comforts. Too bad our little tussle wrecked the place. It will be days before it will be fit for company. So it falls to Hagan to play host.

When I first visited Hagan's apartment, it wasn't what I had expected. His apartment wasn't small, messy, or in shambles like many so called bachelor pads. True, housekeeping wasn't something he did a lot of but he didn't let things get out of hand. His place rides that fine line between lived in and neat. There are bits and pieces of the man's history scattered about the apartment, assuming you buy into the whole immortality thing. Amid the artwork and other collectibles is an impressive array of weaponry, all of it kept in perfect and lethal condition. Some of his things are probably worth a fortune. You wouldn't know it from the way Hagan treated them. To him, they aren't antiques or pieces of art. It's just stuff he has picked up over the years. He doesn't mistreat them but they aren't treated like showpieces. It reminds me of the tiny figurine I keep on my desk at home. I brought it when I was a kid for five bucks. Less than a year ago, I saw the same figurine being sold for almost two hundred dollars. A friend suggested I sell it or put it in a display case but it didn't seem right. It was too personal for me to even think of selling it or treating it with special reverence except to keep it right where it was and close at hand to remind me of bygone days. Where I have a figurine, Hagan has a sword. It's not a beautiful weapon but it looks like it has seen plenty of use. It was also in easy reach should Hagan need it. All in all, it would have been perfect except for one or two minor details. I start our little ritual in a vain attempt to distract him as Jennifer studies the two of us.

"Ready for a fight, Hagan?"

"Always. Still hearing voices, Count?"

"Hearing voices?" Jennifer asks.

Hagan laughs as he shifts his attention to Jennifer, looking the woman up and down. It's good to hear the sound of laughter even if it is at my expense. "Count doesn't like to talk about his little valkyrie. He's afraid people might think he's crazy."

"As crazy as a guy who thinks he's immortal," I say.

Jennifer was going to find out sooner or later. I just wish Hagan's timing was a little better. This would be a bad time to start doubting me. I focus my thoughts inward as Hagan introduces himself to Jennifer.

" _A valkyrie?_ "

Kara shrugs. " _It is how he thinks of me. I really don't see myself as a wolf-riding chooser of the slain._ "

I laugh, " _That makes two of us. I wonder where he got that idea from._ "

Kara's reply is interrupted by the sound of a stinging slap. I glance over at my two friends. Hagan is still smiling though his cheek is a little red.

"Just what I thought," He says to Jennifer before turning his attention back to me. "So tell me why you brought a cop into my home and for her sake the answer better be good."

"It's not that bad," I say with one of my more winning smiles. It does nothing to appease the big man towering over the two of us.

"Not that bad? You bring a cop to my house while there's a warrant out for my arrest and you're telling me that it's not that bad?"

I spare Jennifer a quick glance, hoping she doesn't say or do something stupid.

"I'm not a cop," She says "I'm with the government."

The look I give her is different from the one Hagan gives her but for all intents and purposes the message is the same. "Shut up!"

"Oh right, sorry. She's a Fed. That makes a big difference," Hagan says.

" _You're not going to win. Just take your beating and get it over with,_ " Kara says, " _Hagan dislikes Federal agents more than police._ "

"It's not like she's here to arrest you or anything. Jennifer is here to help us out with Meredith."

Hagan goes on like he hasn't heard me. "Feds stink of mom and apple pie. The only thing worse than a Fed is a spook," He pauses, giving Jennifer another more appraising look. "She's not a spook is she?"

Jennifer answers the question for me, ignoring my unspoken warning and Hagan's anger. "No, I'm with the Defense Intelligence Agency."

"I knew it," he says with a scowl. I give up. Any hope of winning this battle goes out the window as Hagan lets out a stream of curses in some forgotten tongue. Jennifer doesn't flinch from his verbal onslaught. In fact, she replies with a few choice insults and curses of her own.

Kara murmurs " _I told you this was going to happen._ "

" _Maybe, they will calm down before Nerva arrives?_ "

" _Ever the optimist._ "

***

Nerva is late, as usual. It gives me time to diffuse things between Hagan and Jennifer. He is one of those people you either love or hate. There is no middle ground. A lot of it has to do with Hagan's attitude which can draw you in as easily as push you away. If you take the time and effort to get to know him, you can get past all that and see him for who he is. The problem is Hagan usually doesn't let people get that close. He is fond about talking about the perks of immortality. It's rare that he mentions the downside. It's a lonely sort of existence very few can take. He admits you don't have a lot of friends because you outlive most of them. In time, you become more and more reluctant to make new ones. You build up walls to protect yourself. I understand that. You don't need to be immortal to do it.

Like me, Nerva didn't come alone. She brought a guest with her. He is the second minor detail I was referring to. His kin call him Aleric the Strong, not because of his physical strength. It is from his strength of will. He is part arbiter, part diplomat, and all troubleshooter. Though he doesn't exude power, Aleric is not one to underestimate. Among the Fae, he is unique. Long ago, the Fae split into two courts, the Seelie and the Unseelie. The Seelie, or Blessed Court, is made up of the more benevolent Fae. That's not to say they are all goody two shoes. Far from it, they can be capricious and cruel when given reason. The Unseelie don't need a reason. I wouldn't call them evil but you don't have to be evil to be bad news. Aleric exists apart from the two courts, free of the intrigue and politics, so he can mediate disputes between his kin fairly. During times of crisis, he has the authority to make decisions on behalf of both courts. He's a good man to know and a bad one to cross. It's why I need to speak to him. Before any introductions can be made, Hagan takes the initiative.

"Well, well, if it isn't the master race."

Even Kara wasn't prepared for that comment. It's true the Fae see themselves as superior to mankind. Aleric is no different, though he usually keeps his opinion to himself. Aleric acknowledges the words and Hagan with a cold smile. He isn't the least bit intimidated by the big man.

"It's always a pleasure to see you, Elfkiller."

Kara mutters the word "Vikings" as if it were a curse. It shouldn't surprise me. Another perk of immortality seems to be there is never a shortage of enemies. Nerva gets over her surprise slightly faster than the rest of us.

"I take it, the two of you have met," She says.

"Not in person but his legend is known to all," Aleric replies

"Something you want to share with the rest of us?" I ask.

Hagan shrugs off the comment and question like water from a duck's back. "It was a long time ago."

"The Fae have a long memory, Elfkiller," Aleric says.

I see the change in Hagan's posture. Before, I wasn't really worried he might hurt Jennifer or me. It was all for show. This time, it's different. He hears the threat in Aleric's words. Hagan is more than willing and able to do something violent. It's a luxury we can't afford right now. I need Aleric's help if I'm going to stop Meredith. That would be impossible if he ends up as another notch on Hagan's belt.

"Can we table this discussion for another time? We have bigger fish to fry."

Hagan doesn't say it but I know what he is thinking. After this is all over, he will have words with Aleric. From the look on the Fae's face, he would be more than happy to oblige. That is fine with me. The two of them can go at each other on their own time.

"I assume you want to discuss Lord Fitzgerald," Aleric doesn't give me a chance to interrupt him. "As I told Nerva, I'm not about to turn over a member of the Unseelie court to her or anyone else unless they are guilty of high crimes."

Nerva practically bolts from the couch where she was lounging. "He assaulted me."

"That is regrettable, but alas not a high crime," It's not that Aleric is unmoved. He is friends with Nerva and the two have known each other for years. His hands are tied. Fitzgerald is a noble and a member of the Unseelie Court. He must be very well connected for Aleric to hold this close to the letter of the law. It makes sense. If Meredith needed help, he would go as far up the food chain as he could. Someone in Fitzgerald's position could probably get access to all sorts of magical resources.

"I don't want Fitzgerald."

"You don't?" Everyone says it, even Kara.

Aleric's eyes narrow for a moment as if he is about to walk into a trap. He asks the question scholars and philosophers have asked since the dawn of time. "Then why am I here?"

"Sit back and relax" I say more for Nerva's sake than for Aleric. "Let me tell you a little story."

Slowly, but surely, Nerva relaxes as I spin my tale. She's not sure what I am up to but she is willing to trust me. Fitzgerald hurt her and she wants him. It reminds me of how badly I wanted Meredith. With any luck, she won't be disappointed. I start at the beginning and tell Aleric everything. The others have heard it already but it is all new to the Fae. Aleric's mood changes when I mention the Seven. He doesn't like what he is hearing. He likes it even less when I get to Meredith's plan. His expression darkens as he thinks of life in Meredith's better world. He, like most of the Fae, longs for the good old days when magic was strong. The problem is the price tag for such a return. He interrupts me right before I tell him the juicy bit.

"And Lord Fitzgerald is in league with this Meredith."

"Yes and he isn't doing this for free," I say.

The Fae don't accept payment in coin. They deal in boons and favors. It is the currency of their realm. They use it in their ever changing game of politics and intrigue. In helping Meredith realize his dream, Fitzgerald is going to get something in return. Aleric knows the man. He has a good idea what he would ask for. I let his imagination run wild then I finish my tale.

"Meredith needs a place of power to cast his spell. Does Fitzgerald have access to one?"

Aleric's silence is all the answer I need. He does. If Fitzgerald was doing this for the benefit of the Fae, he would have told someone at Court. It would have gotten back to Aleric. You don't have to be a genius or paranoid to come up with a number of reasons why he wouldn't want that to happen. I was counting on it. When Aleric speaks, he chooses his words with care.

"I will have to investigate your claims thoroughly, Count. If what you say is true, Fitzgerald will have much to answer for."

Hagan laughs. Whatever his history with Aleric, he knows exactly what the Fae has in mind. Nerva looks confused. She doesn't see how this helps us. She's never had to deal with Aleric on this level. He's not about to let something like evidence or due process stand in his way if he thinks there is a credible threat to his people. He believes what I've told him. He's going to act quickly. The question is how quickly.

Jennifer asks the question on my mind, "And how long will that take?"

I had nearly forgotten she was here. Jennifer had been silent during my rehashing of events. Aleric replies, not missing a beat. "If he is linked to Meredith, I'll know it within the hour. I just need to make a few calls."

I direct my thoughts and amusement inward to Kara. It wouldn't be diplomatic to say them aloud. "Whether the evidence exists or not, Aleric will find something. He isn't going to take any chances."

"Sometimes you can be a little devious."

Instead of replying, I focus on the conversation. Jennifer still has questions, all of them important. This one is of more interest to Nerva than me.

"And what will happen to Fitzgerald?" she asks.

Even though Meredith is my prime concern, Fitzgerald has to be dealt with sooner or later. It would be nice to know what Aleric plans to do regarding him. It's clear he already has something in mind.

"If he is guilty, his crimes would warrant exile or worse."

"Worse?" Hagan asks.

Banishment and exile are practically unheard of among the Fae. They consider it the harshest possible sentence. Many Fae would prefer death. Not only would they be an outcast forced to find their own way through mortal society, they would have to do it without their powers. Enemies could strike at them without fear of repercussions. It is the closest thing to hell, a Fae could find on this Earth especially if he or she didn't have any money or resources squirreled away. What could be worse than that?

"Yes, Elfkiller. I would personally hand him over to Nerva."

We all turn to her. Nerva's smile is not particularly pleasant.

#  Chapter Twenty Four

Space is at a premium. Jennifer and Aleric both need privacy to make their phone calls. Aleric claims the bedroom. As expected, it doesn't take him long to learn the truth. He has a lot of contacts in the Unseelie and Seelie Courts. It's a necessity for his job. The time consuming part involves apprising the rulers of both courts about the situation. They need to know what's going on before Aleric can act against Fitzgerald. In the kitchen, Jennifer calls her people. She wants them ready to move the moment we know where Meredith is. I'm not sure if that is a good idea or not but I'm not going to argue with her. She has a job to do. That leaves me, Hagan, and Nerva. We sit in the living room where Hagan sharpens his sword. He's expecting the fight of his life and he wants to be ready for it.

Nerva leans close to whisper against my neck. "Everyone else has something to do. How shall we ever pass the time?"

Her close proximity and thoughts of entertaining ways to pass time make it harder to concentrate. Kara's hiss warns me of how far my thoughts are straying.

"We don't have time," I say by way of apology.

"And even if you did?"

I think clean thoughts. Kara mutters the word "hussy" before lapsing into silence. Hagan is good enough not to laugh. Sometimes, it's almost as if he can hear Kara as clearly as I can. Nerva sighs in disappointment. "You're right and I'm not in the mood for a threesome."

The big man nearly cuts himself as he looks our way. I've never seen anyone shock Hagan before. It takes him almost thirty seconds to realize Nerva is joking then the laughter comes. It spreads like wildfire, lightening the mood and warming the heart. Even Kara joins in, forgetting her dislike of Nerva. When Hagan regains control of himself, he asks a question.

"Count, do you remember how we first met?"

"That was a long time ago, ancient history," I reply. My theft of Hagan's trademarked line gets a chuckle out of Nerva and a smile from Hagan. "How could I forget?"

***

Jesse James isn't my sort of place. It's not the music, a mixture of country, honky tonk, and classic rock. It's not the large crowd, though the bar is a bit more rowdy than my usual haunts. The men and women who frequent Jesse James range from bikers to wannabe's and outsiders looking to walk on the wild side. Add to the mix the occasional celebrity who wants to be seen and the bachelorette parties that stop by for a last night of extreme entertainment. It's definitely not the alcohol packed drinks that are served quickly and efficiently by the scantily-clad barmaids; though heaven help you if you decide not to tip. Cheapskates soon learn there is a price to pay for their thriftiness. The barmaids possess razor sharp wits and tongues to match along with a megaphone to call out an offender at a moment's notice.

It's a combination of little things that put me on edge. The abnormally long line to get in isn't helping matters. I have to be in a certain mood to enjoy myself in a place like this. Tonight is not one of those times. Even if it were, I'm working tonight.

" _You don't have to do this,_ " Kara says.

I'm not sure if I can get used to having her with me like this. The link or connection we share allows me to hear her thoughts and sense her emotions. My guardian angel is always close and in intimate contact but untouchable. Even though I like having her around, it feels weird having someone in your head talking to you. It's also pretty frustrating when you consider the sort of thoughts I have about her.

" _It's what I want to do and Wendy needs help._ "

It was pure chance I had run into her. We were both researching vampires in the library. Wendy was in a talkative mood and I was more than happy to listen. She was a bit unnerved by one of her customers last weekend. The guy wanted to sleep with her but bartenders are used to fending off unwanted admirers. So what made this one different? When she looked into his eyes, she felt compelled to follow him back to his place. A scuffle in the crowd distracted the man and Wendy came to her senses. The following night, he showed up again. This time she stayed away from him. Later, she learned he had asked her co-workers a lot of questions about her, questions they answered for some strange reason. It was enough to get her thinking about vampires.

I offered my help. After all, I had some experience with this sort of thing. It wasn't much but I was an expert compared to her. The money and free drinks at Jesse James sealed the deal. Truth be told, I would have done it for free. The days of the Good Samaritan are over. No one ever seems to do something for nothing. Those that do are met with suspicion. It was easier to take the money. To be honest, I could use it. I wasn't in danger of sleeping on the street but the extra few dollars would help.

A sense of uncertainty flickers across the link from Kara. " _What if she is right? What happens then?_ "

I hadn't thought about that. What if Wendy is right? What if her stalker turns out to be a vampire? It's not like I can call the cops or stake him if there is any trouble. Sure, I could fight him but what happens after that? Instead of saying what I am thinking, I reply, " _I'll think of something. I did handle Nerva, didn't I?_ "

I smile, hoping she can be fooled by my words. What I get in return is not a smile but more like a murmur of discontent and barely suppressed anger. She was less than pleased with how things turned out with Nerva. All in all, I thought I didn't do too badly. It could have been a lot worse.

" _I know you want to help this woman but maybe you should take it slow. You're still new at this._ "

I shake my head. " _It's too late for that. I told her I would help and I'm going to do just that._ "

My guardian angel lapses into silence as the bouncer asks for my ID. Now I see why the line is so long tonight. He's the only person working the door and proofing people. Ordinarily, there are four or five bouncers to direct traffic and keep the peace. My estimation of the place goes down a notch. One man can't control a crowd like this no matter how dangerous or able he is, barring the use of firearms. No wonder one of the bartenders is having problems with a stalker.

He's a big man, bigger than me and I'm no little leaguer. It's not just his size, it's also his attitude. Like a warrior of old, confident in his abilities and more than willing to use them. A stray thought flickers across the link from Kara, one of wonder and surprise. It nearly causes me to drop my wallet.

"Count Albritton," He says. "Is this for real? You some kind of royalty or something?"

"It's just a name. You know like Count Bassie or Nat King Cole."

He nods at that while continuing to scrutinize my ID. Sure, it's an uncommon name but it doesn't warrant this much attention.

"So you're the joker Wendy hired? You on the level or what?"

I don't like his tone. There is an unspoken threat, a promise of pain if I were to screw Wendy over. I can't blame him for looking out for his friends. I would do the same in his position. I keep my voice friendly. "Yeah but I doubt there will be any trouble."

He laughs. It is a sound rich and full. "If there is, you stay out of the way and let me handle it. 'Kay?"

I nod, wondering how much Wendy has told him and give the answer I think he wants to hear. "I won't get in the way of your job."

"You know, I thought you would be .... different."

I laugh; happy the first major obstacle of the night was handled so easily. He was probably expecting some skinny pale faced kid or a nerdy bookworm type. Maybe he thought I would turn out to be some lecherous old Van Helsing type who was looking to score with Wendy. Who knows? I step into the orderly chaos that is the Jesse James.

The place is packed. It makes threading my way through the crowd a minor ordeal as I make my way over to the bar. I don't bother Wendy. I'm sure the blonde has seen me. She has a job to do which means there is little time for socializing. I order a beer and to my surprise, it comes in a can. I guess it is management's way to limit the number of potential weapons in the place.

My next destination is the jukebox which has been set off to the side. On a night like tonight, it's turned off though drunks still pump quarters into it not realizing the bartenders are playing tapes and cds. The regulars use it as a place to put their coats. For me, it's a nice spot to hang out in without being constantly bumped into while I nurse my beer. It helps I'm not a big beer drinker. The one beer keeps me going for a while without drawing too much attention to myself. I can't afford to get drunk and it's a better alternative than ordering a coke.

As I watch the bar and the patrons, Kara murmurs something but I can't quite hear it. I try to focus on her voice without losing sense of my surroundings. She cuts in and out as if there is a bad cell phone connection. She told me that in time, I wouldn't have this sort of trouble. It's all a matter of practice and getting used to this. The one word I catch from her is a name "Hagan" and the face of the bouncer.

It's close to last call when I can hear Kara clearly again. The crowd has thinned out some but there are still a lot of people here. I glance in the direction of the side door to see a man enter. He is just like Wendy described him, not a bad looking guy. What disturbs me is the way he entered the bar. That door should have been locked. Why do I say that? With only one bouncer, you can't have more than one way into a bar. It defeats the purpose of proofing people.

Kara murmurs, " _He's not a vampire._ "

I feel more disappointment than relief. He's human. If he was one of the Fae or something else Kara would have mentioned it. She also would have told me if he was a sorcerer. That means I'm off the hook. Sure, I can get involved but I would do no better and probably worse than the authorities. It also means I won't be getting paid and Wendy will have to deal with this some other way.

As I make my way over to the bar, I can understand her confusion and concern. Up close, the guy looks less than wholesome. He gives me the creeps and I don't know a thing about him. It's in his eyes and the way he carries himself. A kind of desperation that hints at missed opportunities. He's at the end of his rope.

" _Be careful._ "

I nod, stopping short of him when I notice Hagan approaching. Somehow the big man must have known this guy was here. It's more than I gave him credit for. I know he wants to handle this and that's fine by me. This is no longer my problem. Still, I won't run out on Wendy till I talk to her. It gives me the chance to watch how Hagan handles the situation. I admit I am curious about him. Kara seems to know or recognize him but she hasn't told me anything about him. This will be a good time to learn a little more about him, just in case.

What little I can hear from the conversation is exactly what I expect.

"I don't want any trouble," the stalker says. Even if I didn't know what was going on, I wouldn't have believed him. He was up to something and trying to hide it. Hagan doesn't buy it either. He places down enough money to cover the man's drink and a tip for Wendy.

"You need to leave now."

Hagan's tone makes it clear this is not a request. It is an order and failure to comply will have dire consequences. The other man looks first to Wendy then to the patrons around him for support as he tries to talk his way out of this. I edge a little closer, placing myself next to Wendy though the bar still separates us. The motion isn't lost on Hagan but he doesn't take his gaze off of the man in front of him. Kara's warning comes as a surprise.

" _He's using some sort of magic item._ "

I don't see or feel anything. That comes as no surprise. For a brief moment, I think Hagan is being too rough on the guy. He just wants to talk to Wendy. After all, it's a free country. I'm probably not the only one who thinks so. The moment passes quickly and Kara breathes a sigh of relief. The fog clears as I realize what has happened.

"What the hell?"

I'm not the only one asking that question. Hagan must have felt something. Even though the magic is strong enough to bend the mind and will, there are no flashy effects to dilute its power. No wasted energy on special effects. Kara is quick to fill in the blanks for me.

" _You reflected the magic he was using against Wendy and Hagan._ "

" _I did what?_ "

I don't have time to ask for further clarification. Hagan is no dummy and he obviously has some experience with the supernatural, maybe more than me. His fist rockets forward into the creep's face. So much for the art of conversation. Fortunately, violence is a universal language and Hagan appears to be well versed in its subtleties. I might have handled things differently but I'm not about to get in the way. I let Hagan do his job. He is the bouncer here. Anyway, it's not smart to get involved in a bar fight, even when you're on the same side as the bouncer.

From the reaction of the bartenders, it's not the first time a fight has happened here. They back away from the bar and out of reach of any patrons while one picks up a phone - probably to call the police. The smarter patrons head for the door. I can understand their sentiment. Mistakes can happen and things can escalate out of control. Usually, if a bouncer has to lay his hands on someone, they would be escorted out and that would be that. This time things deviate from the script. All hell starts to break loose. Someone, maybe a friend of the guy, throws a punch at Hagan. Another man reaches into his pocket for something. With a sick feeling, I realize the little talent Kara said I had just made this situation a lot uglier than it had to be. The magic had to go somewhere when I reflected it. In this case, it hit the people standing around me.

No other fight on this scale is as dangerous as a bar fight. We're not talking about a scuffle where two patrons mix it up or a situation where a bouncer has to forcibly escort someone outside. It's not the comedic sort of brawl you see on the old westerns. No, this is the ugly violent reality where everyone around you is a potential enemy in a room filled with all manner of weapons. I think about getting the hell out of there, but I am partly to blame for this. I spare a quick glance at Hagan before moving to back him up. I pray the man who reached into his pocket doesn't have a knife or a gun. For what it's worth, my prayers are answered. Brass knuckles adorn his right hand. Plenty of people have died from blunt force trauma and I'm not confident of beating him in a head to head fight so I let him slip past me.

Hitting a man from behind is not particularly nice or heroic. It does fit with my "Keep Count Out of the Hospital" plan. It fits as well as the roll of quarters that happen to find their way into my hand. The blow lands heavily. My victim stumbles and falls to the sawdust covered floor. Ordinarily, I wouldn't kick a man while he is down. It isn't because of any misguided sense of honor. When one foot leaves the ground, it's easier to fall or be tripped. I could take the high road and be a better man but I've always liked to give rather than receive. Anything this guy might want to give me after my sneak attack, I don't want. A swift kick removes him and the brass knuckles from my growing list of things to worry about as more and more people get involved in the fight.

I put my back to the bar and stand by Hagan's side. The lunatic is actually smiling amid this carnage. It's like he is having the time of his life. Again, I have the image of a warrior from a bygone era ready to cut a swathe of destruction across a bloody battlefield. This time it is from Kara. I force it out of my mind and focus on the task at hand. I do what I can and play Gray Mouser to his Fafhrd. Though I lack the size, brute force, and smash mouth style with which Hagan approaches this fiasco, I make up for it in skill and the willingness to look for the things he might miss. This arrangement makes life easier for Hagan, allowing him to deal with his numerous admirers. I lose track of time. My lungs are burning. I am not hurt or wounded. I don't have a mark on me though my head begins to hurt. It takes me seconds to realize the pain isn't from a blow I failed to dodge. It is coming from Kara screaming into my mind. Whatever she wants, it better be important.

"WHAT?" I yell.

Hagan doesn't reply though he gives me a strange look. Kara reply is heated causing me to stop in my tracks. The big man saves me from getting my head bashed in by the guy I was fighting.

" _STOP HIM AND YOU STOP THIS!_ "

I wince as the image of the guy who started this fills my mind. Why the hell didn't I think of that? I totally forgot about him and Kara when things escalated. I was so caught up in the moment I stopped thinking. That's not good. If I'm going to be a paranormal investigator, I need to do better. As long as he's in the picture, there is no way for us to win, not against these odds. I also realize no one is attacking me. Come to think of it, no one has attacked me unless I attacked them first. That and Hagan's help has gone a long way towards keeping me in one piece.

I take a chance and shift my attention away from the fight. I find what and who I am looking for as a plan forms. He is busy mumbling to himself and concentrating on something in his hand. I wait for the right moment and Hagan gives it to me. He drops a biker wielding a length of chain, temporarily making a hole in the crowd pressing around us. I take it, ducking past Hagan and out of the fight. I ignore the stream of obscenities Hagan tosses my way. He probably thinks I am cutting and running. Hopefully, so does everyone else. No one stops me. I get out the door but I don't stop running. I turn the corner and come in through the side door. It safer this way despite the extra time it takes me to get there. I don't have to fight through a wall of people to get to him. It also has the benefit of surprise. Who know what other tricks he might have up his sleeve? The blow I deliver to the side of his head isn't enough to knock him out. It does cause my quarters to go scattering about the bar as the roll finally comes apart in my hand. It does have the desired effect. His hold on the crowd breaks and they lose their willingness to fight.

I reach down and pry the pendant from his fingers while Hagan issues an ultimatum. The words carry though he doesn't shout or scream.

"Anyone who doesn't want a free trip to the hospital best leave now."

To emphasis his words, Hagan picks up the length of chain one of his attackers tried to use on him with no success. It doesn't take long for the bar to clear out. Those who were hurt are dragged out by friends or tossed out by Hagan. During which time I keep an eye on the guy.

" _He doesn't have anything else._ "

I nod. Good but now there is a bigger problem. What do I do with this guy? All my thoughts and concerns from earlier come back to haunt me. It's not like I can have him arrested or anything. He hasn't done anything the police will believe. As it stands, he can have me arrested for assault. After the last person leaves, Hagan offers a suggestion. "Kill him."

Is he kidding me? I look up and quickly decide he is serious. I can't believe this. This isn't the dark ages. You just don't execute people at the drop of the hat and that's exactly what this would be. If it was self-defense, I would have less of an issue, especially if it was me being defended, but this is murder. I look past him to the bartenders. All of them have disappeared except for Wendy. She stands there with her mouth hanging open in shock. She doesn't believe this either.

Kara murmurs " _You can't let him walk. If you do, he will come for you._ "

I frown. There is that. He's afraid right now but fear goes hand in hand with hatred. Given a chance, he'll try to repay me and Hagan back for this. It is the look he gives Wendy that makes me shudder. No, we can't let him walk, but there has to be another way.

"If you're squeamish, take off and I'll handle it."

Can I let him kill this guy? Yes but I'm not going to. One of the most precious things we have is life. Yeah, I know you've heard it a thousand times. I'm not talking about his life. I could care less if he had some sort of fatal accident. After all the trouble he has caused, he deserves it. No, I'm talking about mine. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in jail. Even if we were to get away with it, what would that do to me? I'm not interested in finding out. This loser isn't worth it. Killing is definitely something I'm not going to contemplate unless there are no other options.

" _There is another way,_ " Kara says.

"Wait," I say out loud while I direct the rest of my thoughts to Kara. "What?"

" _You can use the pendant to make him forget about all of this._ "

I smile, seeing where Kara is going with this. I hadn't thought of that. Could it work? " _You mean I can erase his memory?_ "

" _Yes. The magic of the pendant allows the holder to alter a person's mind. You saw how it influenced everyone here._ "

I nod, turning back to Hagan and Wendy.

"This little snake is a mechanic, not a sorcerer. All his magic is from this little trinket, I pried out of his hands."

Hagan believes me but it doesn't change anything in his mind. "What's to stop him from getting another one or something worse?"

I hold up the pendant to Hagan. "This. If he forgets about Wendy, magic and us, then the problem is solved."

Wendy looks relieved. She loses that deer in the headlights look while Hagan seems satisfied. "Can you do it?"

"Yes and it's a better than killing him."

Hagan doesn't agree with me but he doesn't argue the point. I make a mental note to never get on this guy's bad side while Kara guides me through what I need to do. It's not easy. I take it slow and easy, keeping it simple.

" _That will do it. He will forget all about Wendy and magic as well as you and Hagan._ "

I nod. As an afterthought, I add a few suggestions of my own with the last of the pendant's power. This guy needs help, so I tell him to go get some. Who knows? He might turn out the better for it. I also tell him to give a little to charity each year. Someone has to do it. It might as well be him. I would do it, but I'm a little too selfish and cynical for that sort of thing.

It was a pretty nice piece of work for my first case.

***

"What about it?" I ask.

Hagan seems about to say something when someone bangs on the door to the apartment. It's the sort of banging designed to get your attention, the kind that serves as a warning and prelude of things to come. Someone wants inside and they aren't going to take no for an answer. We're all on our feet in an instant. Someone outside yells, "Open up! This is the police!"

#  Chapter Twenty Five

It's always bad when the police are banging on your door. At that point, you don't have a lot of options unless you've made extensive plans for just this sort of emergency. My friends react instinctively. They each pick the option that seems most logical to them. In this situation, all of their responses are correct and all of them are wrong.

Jennifer yells, "Let me handle this," as she rushes into the room from the kitchen. It would be smart to follow her lead. As a DIA agent, she can smooth things over with the police. The downside is the time. While Jennifer straightens things out, the police would take everyone into custody. It would take her time to get us released, time we don't have. The police's arrival is no accident or coincidence. They were sent here either by Meredith or Fitzgerald. That means any delay works to their benefit and not ours.

Hagan's reaction promises to save us a lot of time. His sword clears leather. He is ready to fight. Violence is something Hagan excels at. I'm confident in his abilities to take down whoever is on the other side of the door. Of course, fighting the police is never a good idea. It causes more problems than it's worth. Even if you're justified in defending yourself, you still have to answer for doing so. It's not an option. These guys don't deserve to be cut down by Hagan for doing their job.

Nerva opts for flight. She is already opening a window to facilitate our escape. Her choice is the middle ground between Hagan and Jennifer's choices. It would take time but not as much time as being locked up by the police and waiting for Jennifer to spring us. It's not as fast as Hagan's solution but it is far less violent. I would be in favor of it except for one nagging detail. We're on the fourth floor. She and Hagan might be able to walk away from a fall this high. The only place I would be going is back to the hospital or the morgue.

" _We have to fight,_ " Kara says. Given a choice, she would have me avoid a fight and danger. This time, she doesn't think there is a choice. She shares my suspicion. Someone sent the police here. We can't waste time with them. If that means people have to be hurt then she is fine with it. I see another way.

"Aleric, we need you!"

As the door shatters, Aleric emerges from the bedroom. They don't bother with stun or gas grenades. The police rely on speed and brute force. Jennifer finds herself clubbed down before she can show her credentials. That's when they see Hagan and the sword. They aim their weapons at him and yell for him to drop the sword. It's not going to happen. In another second, there will be blood. Aleric doesn't let that happen. With a wave of his hand, he calls upon the glamour and his birthright to defuse things before they can get any worse. The officers lower their weapons, looking confused. They move about the apartment as if we don't exist for them. A disappointed Hagan lowers his sword as he realizes there will be no battle.

"Nicely done," I say with a smile.

For his part, Aleric nods at the compliment. I didn't know what he would do but it had to be better than chopping them to pieces. Still, it couldn't have been easy for him. I don't know what it cost him or how long he can maintain his spell. To his credit, there isn't a hint of strain or tension in his voice as he speaks.

"Fitzgerald has a holding in the Bronx. It's not a residence, just a cave he discovered in Van Cortland Park."

I try and fail to keep my voice neutral. A hint of dread creeps into my words. "Near the Yonkers' border."

Aleric confirms my fear. "That is very astute of you, Count. He is there now with Meredith making preparations."

" _I should have seen it earlier,_ " Kara says. " _It's a place of power._ "

We both should have seen this. Meredith knew about the Bloodstone. It only stands to reason, he would know a little about its origins. It's another little detail that fell by the wayside. We should have had the place sealed up. It makes me wonder what else we missed during those early cases.

"And what do you plan to do about it?" Nerva asks.

"Nothing more than what I have already done. The Unseelie have relinquished their claim on the cave and transferred ownership to Count. It seems Lord Fitzgerald disagreed with the edict," The Fae Court is not a democracy. They take a dim view of those who refuse royal edicts. "He has been disavowed. You and your friends may deal with him accordingly when you go to claim your property."

It's my turn to ask a question. "Why not arrest him?"

Hagan answers for Aleric. "Because pointy ears doesn't want to risk any of his precious kin in a battle with Meredith or his pet."

"I would have put it another way but essentially Hagan is correct. I will not hazard my people against this Servitor unless there is no alternative," Aleric pauses to offer Hagan a smile. "Unless you need me to fight your battles for you?"

Nerva steps between Aleric and Hagan before more than words can be exchanged. When she leans close and speaks, Aleric forgets all about Hagan. "Thank you" and in a slightly lower voice she says, "I take back all the things I was going to tell your girlfriend."

Aleric doesn't give me a chance to ask what those things might be. "I will stay here and hold these gentlemen and their friends outside till you depart. Just make sure you deal with Meredith and Lord Fitzgerald for this inconvenience."

"No worries about that. Just take care of Jennifer for me."

" _You're not taking her with you?_ "

" _She's hurt and I don't know how badly. Moving her might do more harm than good. Anyway, she'll be safer here._ "

Jennifer is a part of this now. I feel bad about leaving her behind but she will be a lot safer with Aleric. When she wakes up, she can come after us and coordinate things with the authorities. To be honest, I didn't want a law enforcement or government agent with us when we confronted Meredith. This time there wasn't blood and violence. When we meet Meredith, it will be a different story. The three of us leave the apartment behind. Only Hagan speaks. His voice is almost too soft to be heard.

"I'm gonna miss that place."

#  Chapter Twenty Six

Things are moving faster than I like. I'm sure Meredith feels the same way. The pressure is on. Both of us are acting quickly. It's the only play either one of us has left. I've lost the element of surprise. Aleric's investigation tipped Meredith or Fitzgerald off. The police were meant to delay us. They can't be certain how much time it brought them. Meredith will have to cast his spell tonight. Tomorrow will be too late. He can't give me time to plan or gather allies. Too many people, mundane and magical, want him. I'm in the same boat. I can't give him time to cast his spell and awaken the Seven. If that happens, there won't be anything I can do except offer him my throat. We both have to act now. We're no longer racing against each other. Instead, we are racing towards each other. The inevitable crash is not going to be pretty.

Nerva is driving hard and fast, playing loose with the rules of the road. I'm not about to complain, we're making good time. In the back seat, Hagan looks out the rear window expecting pursuit. The big man has been silent since we piled into Nerva's car. Something is on his mind. I could ask him but he won't talk until he is good and ready. The moment comes when we pass the Gracie Manor.

"Do you have a plan?"

The plan I have is an ugly misshapen thing. Like some sort of Frankenstein monster, it is a jigsaw puzzle that still needs to be stitched together and electrified. It's just pieces and fragments. I could try and stall for time but my friends deserve better than that.

"Hit fast, hit hard. Take out Meredith and anyone in that cave before he can kill us."

"That's your plan?" Hagan asks. When he realizes that's the extent of my plan, he just smiles and says, "I like where your head is at."

Nerva and Kara both make disgusted sounds that prove the two can actually agree from time to time.

***

This part of the park hasn't changed much. I am looking forward to and dreading what's coming. Kara takes my mind off of it for a moment. She nestles comfortably in my thoughts. The cave isn't in sight from our vantage point but its image is burned into my mind. If the Fae were interested in defending their holding, it would be a tough nut to crack. Luckily, Aleric did us a favor when he had Fitzgerald disavowed. Someone in his position would have retainers and bodyguards. We no longer have to worry about them. None would be willing to aid Fitzgerald. The consequences would be too great. Unfortunately, Meredith is still a sorcerer and he has the Servitor on his side. My gift can keep me safe from magic but it can only do so much to protect me from his pet. Kara doesn't know how much and I am not eager to find out. Hagan and Nerva wait for me to say something. Neither one of them is a model of patience. Hagan is spoiling for a fight. He knew it would all come down to this when he first gave me the ring. Nerva wants to get this over with. This is personal for her, as personal as it is for me. Whatever Fitzgerald did is way beyond him just casting a spell on her.

"Are we ready?" I ask. It's a stupid question. Hagan is always ready for something like this and for a change Nerva is just as eager. "After we take out the Servitor, we can deal with Meredith."

" _It's not much of a plan_."

I nod slowly. It is simple and far from elegant. I wish I could come up with something better but I'm out of ideas. Kara doesn't voice an objection. Hagan does.

"No. It won't work if we do it that way."

I look at him, waiting for an explanation. It's not often he disagrees with a plan where he gets to do what he loves doing. "I'll handle the pet while you and Nerva deal with Meredith." He says.

"But...."

"It has to be this way. We don't have a sorcerer and we can't give Meredith time to work his magic."

I'm about to argue but I can't think of anything to say. With no Dorward or Solomon, we have no one who can match Meredith in the magic department. We give him enough time and he might be able to use it to get out of this or worse. Hagan's reasoning is sound but I don't like it. I look to Nerva for an opinion. Her expression remains carefully neutral. From Kara, I get the sense she agrees with Hagan but is just as uneasy about it as I am. Whatever I do or say, I know they will back me up. I go with my instincts and trust Hagan's judgment. I don't have many friends. I trust each one implicitly.

"We do it your way. You lead and I'll follow."

There is a brief moment when Kara seems to leave me and Hagan smiles. It is the closest that I have ever seen him to being at peace. The moment doesn't last long. Kara flows back into my thoughts. " _What was that all about?_ "

Kara murmurs, "Just keeping a promise I made to him."

I still have some misgivings about splitting our strength but I can't think of a way around it without wasting time we don't have. "When we get to the cave, I'll head inside. It isn't that big. There won't be any place for Meredith to hide."

#  Chapter Twenty Seven

Out of sight from the city streets, we wait in the darkness. I'm not sure who has the best senses. It's definitely not me. I can barely make out the twisted trees around me. I can only sense the danger that lies ahead. Meredith's pet is here. It waits somewhere ahead ready to devour us.

" _It looks like the Fae have widened the trail._ "

" _Good, I won't have to worry about breaking my neck when Hagan gives the word._ "

It will be easier to navigate but no less perilous. The Servitor will not let us by. To get to Meredith, we have to get past it. When Jennifer asked me how I can deal with this sort of stuff, I dodged the question. It was easier to introduce her to the other side of magic. That way she could find her own answer, the one that works for her. My answer have always been, "with a little help from my friends" and, "keep on moving forward".

The word "Now" is barely out of Hagan's mouth when he starts to move. The big man takes the lead, pouring on the speed. On my best day, I can sprint faster than Hagan. This isn't one of them. My knee is still on the mend and I need to conserve my strength. I'm going to need to fight at the end of this run. The Servitor coalesces around us to smother Hagan's rush. The ash grey cloud comes at us from every direction, even seeping out of the ground. It smells worse than Meridith's building, bringing to mind trash day in the meat packing district during the height of summer. Nerva slows and I narrowly avoid slamming into her but Hagan doesn't stop or change course. He deals with the horror the only way he knows how. The draw is too quick for me to see in the darkness. His sword flashes, cleaving the cloud as claws of smoke slash at him and shadowy tendrils seek to snare him. Hagan's sword does the impossible. It cuts the Servitor. The thing draws back in pain and surprise, clearing a path for us. As it rises up behind us, the Servitor doesn't utter a sound. There is no scream of pain or rage, no cry of frustration. It is silent and implacable, already renewing its assault. The Servitor flows after us, licking at our heels.

I see the crack. The light shining from within the cave makes it easier to see. Like the trail, it too has been widened and made easier to navigate. Hagan spins, placing his back to the opening while Nerva and I dart inside. I don't like this but it's the way Hagan wants to play it. There is no time to wish him luck or say goodbye. I'm not sure he would hear it. His attention is riveted on his opponent.

Nerva yells and asks, "Where to?"

The cave is bigger than I remembered, lit by flickering torches. At the rear of the cave, a tunnel beckons me deeper into the earth. I point towards it and Nerva takes the lead. I spare a moment to glance back at Hagan. It's a mistake. The Servitor pulls itself into a rough humanoid shape and towers over my friend. It is the stuff of nightmares. The Servitor's form is never at rest, always in motion like a dark miasma while at the same time being unsettling solid. In this form, it is more disturbing and terrible than the cloud I have come to associate with it. I hesitate.

"Go!!" he yells.

Hagan must have seen me. I can't do it. I can't leave him alone against that thing but Hagan is right. Someone has to deal with Meredith while he fights it.

" _Kara, can you help him?_ "

" _Yes but ...._ "

I cut her off. I know the rest of it. She is about to say, "but who will help you."

" _Go help Hagan. I'll be fine._ "

And Kara is gone. The link is still there but it is a tenuous thing. I curse and hurry to catch up to Nerva, running away from the image of Hagan rushing to meet his foe and the flash of claws and blood that proceed his screaming.

***

Down into the darkness we descend. Was this passage always here or did the Fae dig it? It doesn't matter. I don't need Kara's senses or a spell to tell me this is the way to Meredith. Nerva slows her pace as the tunnel widens. I brush past her into the cavern that opens before us. There in the center of an inscription carved into the cold rock floor is Meredith. He stands there, as if he has been waiting all his life for this moment. His singsong chant nearly falters when he notices our arrival. Chalk one up to the big guy. It looks like Meredith was expecting the Servitor to buy him some time. It doesn't matter. It's time to finish this. I take a step forward when Nerva cries out a warning. How many times can I be wrong? This time, it is going to cost me. I had forgotten about Fitzgerald. The Unseelie flashes me a sharp toothed smile as he darts towards me. I am caught flatfooted and too close to avoid his sudden rush. The knife in his hand catches the torchlight. I have no doubts as to its sharpness. There will be no avoiding its caress. Nerva saves me. She slams into my attacker and the two go down in a heap. They roll around, the knife rising and falling in counterpoint to the sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking. I am about to go to Nerva's aid when I realize Meredith has stopped chanting. He finished his spell, whatever it was.

Even though I'm not a sorcerer, I can feel the power of his spell as it takes shape. There isn't time to stop it. Even if I had the time, I don't know any spells to counter whatever he is doing. The one thing I do know for certain is that Meredith's spell doesn't have enough power to awaken the Seven. Yes, it's powerful and partially backed by the energy of this place but not powerful enough. It can't be the spell for awakening the Seven. It's probably meant to take me and Nerva out. Some guys never learn. I brace myself for the impact, ready to use my gift, only to have the spell energy rush past me and out of the cave.

I get over myself and the surprise. Meredith has done it to me again. I have a flashback to my fight with the ogre. It seems like the distant past. I remember how G'rstaka hurt my knee. More importantly, I remember how Meredith used him as a sacrifice. What if he could do the same thing to the Servitor? He couldn't. To sacrifice someone or something you need either a willing victim or the ability to destroy it utterly. In the case of an unwilling victim, you need to be able to kill it. The Servitor would be too powerful for Meredith to kill unless it was weakened. Then it hits me. Hagan is doing just that. He might also be a target for that spell. Once more, I feel like I've played into his hands.

"Don't you ever get tired of failure?" Meredith asks.

His words make me flinch. Was this what Hagan was afraid of? While we fought the Servitor, Meredith would be free to do his little sacrifice and cast his ritual. I can feel the rush of energy as Meredith makes a strangling motion with his hands. The Servitor didn't make a sound in life. In death, its sanity rending wail echoes down the tunnel. I'm out of time. He has all the power he needs to awaken the Seven. I have to stop him but I don't know how.

"Do something!!"

It's Nerva's pain wracked voice that motivates me. She is still fighting and here I m standing around doing nothing. It happens purely on instinct. I use what Kara has taught me and all that I have learned about my gift. I focus my will not at Meredith but at the energy around us. He wants to use the power of this place and the Servitor's sacrifice to awaken the Seven. I deny him. Touching the ring was bad enough, this is far worse. The power of this place and the Servitor's essence makes my skin crawl. It feels like I am rotting away from the inside out but I don't stop.

Meredith grunts in surprise. He scrambles for a grip on his power before I can pull it from his grasp. His curses fill the air as we play our complex game of tug of war. He matches his knowledge and skill verses my gift and willpower. Even with surprise on my side, it's not enough. I'm losing. My gift is perfect for this sort of battle but my inexperience is costing me. I've never tried to use it like this before. I can delay Meredith but I can't stop him, not like this, not today. It doesn't take him long to realize that. He laughs at me. Meredith knows how close to winning he is. Defeat is at most a minute away.

I remember an old saying – In a race against death, second place is someplace you don't want to be. It's true. Second place might sound good but in the end, you're the one who lost. I can't let that happen. There is too much at stake. I change tactics and do the unthinkable. I stop fighting him. I use my gift to reach far and wide for every bit of magic I can scrounge and then feed it into Meredith. I help him cast his spell.

Everyone feels it. It's like being in a warm cozy house while a blizzard rages outside. Suddenly, some fool throws open the door for no apparent reason to let in the winter chill. This time, I'm the fool doing it. I sense them awakening from their slumber. Slow and lethargic, the Seven begin to rouse themselves ready to make themselves masters of this world. Meredith glows in triumph. The excess energy bathes us both in liquid fire that flows between us. With their awakening, magic becomes stronger giving me even more power to draw upon. Sparks fly from his inscription. His expression turns to fear and desperation as he realizes what I have done. It's too much power for his purposes. He is losing control and there is nothing he can do about it. Meredith wasn't ready for something like this. I've let go of the rope and he is flying backwards, out of control. He is the one seconds from defeat and I can't help but smile. It's small and petty to take pleasure in something like this but I can live with myself for it. He, if any one does, deserves this end and it comes violently in a spectacular blaze of white fire. The flame consumes body and soul. The sound Meredith makes reminds me of the high pitched scream a lobster makes when tossed into a pot of boiling water. No matter how painful it was for him, he got off lucky considering all the death and misery he was responsible for.

I don't savor my victory, otherwise it will be short lived. I put Meredith and everything else out of my mind. I focus on what I have to do. There is only one chance at this. If I get it wrong, I'll suffer the same fate as Meredith or worse. I have two things going for me he doesn't have. The world loses definition, disappearing from sight as I concentrate. There is just the Bloodstone and the power flowing around me. I take hold of them both.

The Bloodstone was made for this purpose. It responds to my commands, eager to do my bidding. All it needs is power and there is plenty of that around. Even with my gift, it takes all my strength and will to hold onto the power without being consumed by it. The taint that threatened to corrupt me is still there. It burns me from the inside out, making the job that much more difficult. The Bloodstone pulses in time to my heartbeat. It takes all the power I am holding and stores it.

I take the next step. I use the Bloodstone to undo the damage Meredith and I have done. The old spell binding the Seven is gone, so I forge a new one. I let my instincts guide me and use the ring to close the door we opened. It's not a perfect solution. I lack the knowledge and skill to put the Seven back to sleep. I don't even try. Instead, I focus on the door to their prison. I reinforce it with all the power in the Bloodstone so it will hold them at bay. As I close and lock the door, one of the Seven, more awake than its fellows, makes a lunge forward. I don't know if it was quick enough or not. It doesn't matter. I did the best I could do. For the time being, it's over. The Seven are trapped once more.

#  Chapter Twenty Eight

My awareness of the world around me returns. I catch sight of Nerva. She's hurt, moving on autopilot right now. Her smile, like her clothes, has seen better days. I try not to notice just how much blood is on her and the bruises that mar her beauty. She's been punched, stabbed and slashed. It makes me wonder how well Fitzgerald fared. Then I see an arm that has been ripped out of its socket. The knife is still clutched in its hand. Its owner lies in a crumpled mass a dozen feet away. I don't remember hearing Fitzgerald scream but he must have. No one could take that sort of punishment and remain silent. His remaining limbs are all in impossible angles and there is a ragged hole in his chest. Hagan would approve.

"I'll check on Hagan while you finish up here," She says. I watch her go, wondering what she means by that. There is nothing more to do down here. Fitzgerald and Meredith are dead. She saw to the Fae and I took care of Meredith. His body is burned and blackened from the magic he was channeling. It lies where he fell, in the center of his magic circle. He has paid the price for his ambitions. I am about to leave when I notice a wisp of smoke float up from the corpse. A second later, there is another one. With a start, I realize he is still alive. After all this, Meredith is still alive and trying to speak. I don't know how or why. Even worse, I don't know if I can put him out of his and my misery.

"I'm dying," He rasps. It is so tempting to tell him to do it faster. Instead, I move closer to hear his last words. "I was wrong."

I should gloat but I can't find it in me to do so. I have no words for this man who has taught me to hate. It wouldn't matter. He's not really speaking to me. His words are to make his last moments more bearable.

"It was never about the Bloodstone. It was always about you and me," He makes a wet coughing sound that passes for laughter. "I couldn't have done it without you. Together, we ushered in my new world. They are awake and they won't rest until they are free."

I want to call him a liar. I can't. It's the truth. They won't rest until they are free. It's all a matter of when and how unless someone finds a way to put them to sleep again. Meredith's lips crack and split as he leers at me.

"The Longest Road, you'll walk it to stop them. You will only find death at the end of your journey," His coughing continues, changing from humor to a death rattle. I watch him die, just to make sure, then waste a few more seconds bidding farewell to Meredith. When I am done spitting on his corpse, I realize Kara hasn't returned to me. I turn and race up the tunnel, fearing the worse.

***

The Servitor is gone. I find Hagan lying near the cave entrance in a pool of blood. Nerva sits close by him, cradling his head in her lap. I don't have any formal medical training but I know he's in a bad way. Usually, it's the bad guys who do the dying, not my friends. It's funny in a tragic sort of way. This all started with me getting the Bloodstone from Hagan. It looks like it is going to end that way. Kara is there, visible to the three of us as I crouch down next to my friend. What do you say to someone who is dying? How can you put into words all the things you feel in a sentence or two? Hagan does it for me.

"This was the battle I was looking for. Thank you."

He takes his last breath with a smile and dies with no regrets. I look up at Kara. There are tears in her eyes. "What now?"

" _I must escort Hagan to Vahalla,_ " She sees my expression and murmurs. " _It's not what you think. This isn't goodbye. I will be back when I can._ "

I nod slowly, rising to kiss her softly. I am sad to see her go but happy she will return. "I'll wait for you."

Kara shakes her head. " _You can't. There is much to do. You have to get moving. There are lessons you need to learn,_ " She smiles. " _I'll catch up to you._ "

A final kiss then she and Hagan are gone. Nerva looks at me curiously before saying, "So that's her," She smiles as I help her up. Her injuries force her to lean on me for support. "No wonder you're so hard to corrupt."

***

We exit avoiding the police who are arriving on the scene. Jennifer must have called them. I think about phoning her then decide against it. She has enough to do right now. It will put off having to answer her questions. I'm not up to it right now. All I want to do is go home and crash but I can't. There is a lot to do.

My offer to drive earns me a dirty look from Nerva. No one drives her mustang but her. We drive to my place in silence. She stays just under the speed limit and doesn't take any chances. Nerva just wants to get me home in one piece. It's probably the safest she has even driven. As we pull in, she breaks the silence.

"I know that look, Count."

I flash Nerva a smile, hoping it is not as tired as I feel. It's the best I can do in the present circumstances. I'm thinking about Hagan and what Kara said. I have things to do.

"Can you and Sol keep an eye on my place while I'm gone?"

Nerva takes a hand off the wheel long enough to pinch me before replying. "Of course, but you'll owe me one," She says.

"Will I ever get out of debt?"

"Not in this lifetime."

***

Nerva doesn't say good bye. It's not her style. Instead, she steals a kiss. It's almost enough to make me stick around longer. I don't promise to keep in touch. I don't have to. We've been friends long enough to know I'll call when I can and she'll answer when she can. Who could ask for anything more?

As I climb the stairs up to my apartment, I think about my next move. Meredith talked about the Longest Road. I don't know what it's all about. I just know I need to learn more about it and the Seven before I decide on a course of action. There will be others looking to follow in Meredith's footsteps. Something has to be done about them. By the time I walk into my apartment, I know how and where to start. It doesn't take long to pack a few things for the trip. I planned for something like this a while back when I first got in trouble with the law. I have enough cash left over from my last case to travel, but not in style. It'll have to do.

When I leave my place, the sun is just coming up. I can hear the birds singing. It is morning and the dawn of a new day, maybe even a new era. Kara was right. I have a lot of things to do and more importantly learn. Whether the Longest Road is part of it or not remains to be seen. I am almost to the corner when Jennifer's car pulls up alongside of me.

"Are you going to take me in or something?"

It's a valid question. I look into Jennifer's eyes as she opens the door for me. "No," she says. She's telling the truth yet I hesitate. I don't know where things will take me or the dangers I might have to face. Do I want to drag her along? My knee makes the decision for me, riding is better than walking. I slide into the passenger seat. "Where to?" she asks.

I smile. "I'll think of something but west is as good a direction as any."

#  Bonus Story: The Path Taken

"It's good to be out of the city."

It's a thought and feeling echoed by my guardian angel. Ever since I got back to from my trip, I have been out of sorts. I tried to go back to my usual routine but it hasn't worked out. It's like I've been trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.

" _Don't worry, Count. You're just adjusting to your new life._ "

Kara's voice reassures me more than her words do. All of my friends and co-workers were clueless. Only Orion understood. He considered himself a shaman. He wasn't pretentious about it. I always respected his words, beliefs, and feelings while others looked down on them. When I got back from Oklahoma, he knew there was something different about me. I didn't have to tell him about Kara or what happened on the road. He just knew that I needed to find my way.

Orion said that he knew the perfect place for me to visit. I wasn't quite so sure about that but there was no arguing with him. I'm less sure when I get off the bus. This is the second bus trip this month that has led to the unexpected.

The bus stop is along a deserted and unwelcoming stretch of road. The driver doesn't give me time to reconsider my decision. The bus pulls off in a hurry, eager to continue on its way and leave me behind. Kara makes a noise of discontent as we watch it go. We're committed. The next bus wouldn't be along till the morning.

It is close to sunset when I find what I am looking for. The driveway is overgrown and stretched into the forest. A battered wooden sign reads: Welcome to Stone Mountain. Orion had given me a little history lesson before I left New York. Back in the 30s and 40s, Stone Mountain was something of a winter hotspot. Its location, close to the Hudson River and major roadways, made it easy to get to. People would come from miles around to ski down one of the three trails here. When World War II started, the place died. People had more important things to do than ski. Stone Mountain suffered a mortal wound that it never recovered from. Some of Orion's friends pooled their resources and brought the land.

Like the driveway, the area that was once the resort's parking lot is overgrown. Kara's voice is getting easier to hear especially with night approaching. Her presence is something else that I need to make sense of. I can hardly believe it sometimes. That's when I get the feeling we are not alone.

" _Good,_ " she says, " _You can feel it too._ "

"Yes," I murmur. It takes me a moment to spot the slightly overweight man walking out of the forest. There is nothing out of the ordinary about him except for his lack of clothing. It's late November and he is dressed only in a simple dark brown vest and pants. No shoes protect his feet yet he walks sure footed across the parking lot. In his hands, a set of wooden pipes can be seen. As he nears me, something changes. Whatever illusion was cloaking him wavers and dissipates. His features don't change much, except for his eyes, which seem to twinkle and glitter in the darkening light. The ears are now pointed though not enough to call attention away from his goat legs and hooves. Instead of pants, he wears a loin cloth that matches his brown vest.

"You're a satyr?" My voice sounds squeaky even to my own ears. It gets a laugh out of my goat legged friend.

"And you are pretty observant for one of your kind. You may call me Nightbringer," he says.

"And you can call me Count."

"Is that a name or a title?" he asks with a smile.

"It's a name. I'm a friend of Orion," I say, finally getting over some of my nervousness.

"Ah, someone else with a strange name but not a stranger," Nightbringer turns and heads back into the woods. "If you're a friend of his, you're welcome to guest at my camp for as long as you like."

"Thanks."

"Just mind your manners," He warns.

Without another word, I follow Nightbringer deeper into the woods as Kara murmurs, " _He's right. You need to be careful._ "

" _Why? Orion wouldn't send us into danger without a warning,_ " I reply, careful to internalize my words.

" _He didn't tell you what you were getting into either. Maybe, he doesn't know,_ " Kara pauses for a moment, as if she is taking a deep breath or figuring out the best way to tell me something. " _Count, you're still new at this and the Fae.... They can be hard to deal with._ "

" _Hey, I'm not quite helpless, you know._ "

Nightbringer picks this moment to interrupt my talk with Kara with a question of his own. "So, how was it that you could see through my glamour? Are you a sorcerer?"

I answer with his question with one of my own "The glamour?"

"It's the way we use magic. We Fae can use it to shape the world around us and the perceptions of those who walk through our lands."

I nod, remembering all the stories about the Fae and their magic. The story of Cinderella and how her fairy god mother turned a pumpkin into a carriage comes to mind.

" _That's a good example of how glamour can be used. It is their defense and protection in a world that is getting smaller every day,_ " Kara says.

" _And how was I able to see through it?_ "

" _Call it a gift._ "

"A gift," I echo her words out loud before I realize I am doing it.

"It's a mighty fine one," Nightbringer replies without missing a beat.

" _And be careful. You don't want people to think you're crazy._ "

" _Sorry, I'm still getting used to you being in my head._ "

***

The deeper we travel into the forest, the more magical it becomes. The glamour hides these sights from unwelcome visitors but I see it in all its glory. Colored lights of faerie fire paint the world in their unearthly glow. The trees and plant life are more vivid in color. It makes everything so much more beautiful.

As we step out into a clearing that is dominated by a fairy ring and large bonfire, I spot the inhabitants of this enchanted place. Here, the evening festivities are well underway. Elves mingle freely with the other Fae of Stone Mountain and their few human guests. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some are too beautiful for words, while others are grotesque beyond imagining. It is enough to take my breath away.

"This place is a safe haven and gathering place for the Seelie. Please, enjoy yourself," Nightbringer says. The satyr doesn't leave me to my own devices. He takes his duty as host seriously. He shows me around the camp site while Kara fills me in on some details about the Fae.

One people, they are divided into two courts. The Seelie or Blessed Court is made up of the more benevolent Fae. That's not to say they were all goody two shoes. Far from it, they can be capricious and cruel when given reason. The Unseelie don't need a reason. I wouldn't call them evil but you don't have to be evil to be bad news. Both courts have outposts and settlements scattered across the world.

" _Count, please watch what to say and do,_ " Kara doesn't wait for me to ask why. Her advice would be sound for any occasion. " _Intrigue is a game to them. There is always some kind of plot going on. It would be best not to be drawn into anything,_ " She warns.

After the tour, Nightbringer leaves me to attend to the other guests. Throughout the night, he checks up on me or makes it a point to introduce me to another one of his guests. It's all part of his roguish charm, even Kara finds herself enjoying the night.

A brownie offers me a drink from his flask. I take a sip despite Kara's warning. The world spins for a moment before returning to normal. I resolve never to do that again. The stuff is worse than Lithuanian moonshine. My insides will never be the same. I step into the woods to collect myself as Kara chides me for my recklessness. That's when I hear a woman scream. And just like that, I am plunging into the forest like some hero in a fantasy novel.

***

The screaming stops just as I find its source. A woman, a beautiful one at that, leans against a tree trying to catch her breath.

"Are you okay," I ask. I don't have time to say or do anything else before Kara cries a warning.

" _Look out!_ " she yells.

I hear something behind me, the clopping of hooves moving fast. There is no time to dodge so I just relax and prepare for the worst. Yeah, I know it sounds strange. Maybe relax is the wrong word for what I do. I don't let myself tense up. Rigid and inflexible things tend to break when they get hit. Less than a heartbeat later, something hard smashes into the small of my back with the impact of a wrecking ball. I've been kicked before but never like this. It's powerful, reminding me of all those animal documentaries. I roll forward with the force of the blow letting it carry me away from my attacker.

It's a little showy and not planned. I somehow roll to my feet. I even manage to spin around to face my opponent. Nightbringer charges me again, looking every bit as wild and dangerous as a drunken satyr can be. As he launches another kick at me, he yells, "Rook!"

I don't know if it's a battle cry or the girl's name. I could care less. Out of habit, I block the kick even though I've moved out of its path. The lessons learned in karate class are put to use once more. I return the favor, delivering a shin kick. It's not one of my best moves. I'm more of a puncher than a kicker but my kick does land. Nightbringer still hasn't recovered from his own kick. He is still off balance when mine lands. It smacks him in the midsection causing him to double over in pain.

I am about to follow it up when the woman I came to rescue yells, "Stop it, both of you!"

It takes all my willpower not to throw the punch I was planning. My heart is beating hard and fast like it always does when I fight. I feel untouchable. Instead, I let go of the rush. I hold my ground and wait. If Nightbringer attacks, I'll defend myself. Kara picks that moment to give me the bad news.

" _Keep in mind, we're in the middle of an enchanted forest. I don't think his friends will just let you walk out of here if you rough him up too badly._ "

"Great, just great!" I yell.

" _You're talking out loud again._ "

"This man came to my aid, Nightbringer," The woman says.

Another voice, one I don't recognize, adds, "And once more we see that you are not a proper host. Is this is the way you treat your guests?"

All of us turn to glance at the new speaker. Nightbringer spits the word, "Kalen".

The newcomer acknowledges his name with a slight bow. Kalen's smile troubles me. I don't know what's going on but I get the feeling that I am now in the middle of something. For his part, Nightbringer ignores the Fae to see to the woman. As the two of them talk, I look Kalen up and down. There is a coldness to him. He didn't come to Nightbringer's camp to relax or enjoy himself. He came to cause trouble.

Kara murmurs, " _He is an Unselee._ "

I frown, repeating my earlier words. This time I remember to internalize them. " _Great, just great! What else can go wrong?_ "

More people arrive. They are full of questions and reproach. The festive attitude of the night is replaced by business, politics and intrigue. I try to figure out what is going on as they speak amongst themselves. The woman picks this moment to approach me while Nightbringer leads his guest back to camp.

"Nightbringer apologizes for his actions," She says.

"It would mean more coming from him but it's alright, Rook?" I reply. This wasn't her fault. There is no reason to take it out on her. The woman smiles hesitantly but doesn't correct me. "It was just a misunderstanding," I say.

"One engineered by Kalen. Now, our home is in danger," She says.

I frown at Rook. "What do you mean in danger?"

"Nightbringer attacked a guest without cause who he was honor bound to protect and shelter. It is a serious offense among our kind," I nod, not understanding. The satyr was only trying to protect Rook. I turn my thoughts inward to Kara, hoping she has answers for me. She doesn't but Rook does shed more light on the situation. "Kalen wishes to use this incident as an excuse to take control of our territory. He has called for an Arbiter to settle the matter."

"When you said engineered, what did you mean? Did he make you scream?"

"It is something I cannot prove but it is my belief. The timing was too convenient. I had a vision."

" _She's a seer,_ " It's not often that I hear or sense surprise from my guardian angel. A flood of images and references flicker across the link.

" _People really can't see the future._ "

It would be too easy if everything was preordained and written in stone. It's not. There will always be things that are out of our control. You can call it luck, destiny or the universe conspiring against you. The rest are all a product of our actions or inaction. So where do seers and prophets fit in? It's like dealing with your average stock market analyst. He or she isn't always correct but the good ones can tell you what is most likely to happen with the market based on current events and trends. At least, that's my take on the matter. It remains to be seen if I'm correct.

I shift my attention back to Rook. "What did you see?"

"I saw you," She says with a smile.

***

We walk a short distance to the edge of a stream. Here, in the darkness only lit by wisps of light, I study her gentle features. I don't know how to describe her. To merely call Rook beautiful or attractive would be a disservice. She is a living paradox. Youthful while projecting a sense of timeless grace, her presence is commanding without being overpowering. She is friendly and approachable yet reserved. I find out her full name is Rook Half-Elven. Her name and heritage set her apart from most people, even those who know who and what she is. Unlike her elven kin, she wears her reddish brown hair short which does nothing to mar her looks.

"Count, you have chosen your path even though you do not know it yet. You have started a journey but you do not know your destination," She says in a grave voice.

"And you are confusing me."

Rook offers me another smile before looking into the water. "I'm a seer. When I speak of a vision, I can only put it into words that I can understand. By the end of this weekend, you will know your path, though not where it will take you."

I direct my thoughts to Kara again "Is she on the level?"

" _I think she is telling you the truth about whatever it was she saw,_ " After a moment of hesitation, Kara adds, " _She might not be telling you everything._ "

I nod slowly, focusing on Rook. "So why did you cry out?" I ask.

A hint of red touches Rook's cheeks. I can't help smiling as she averts her eyes from me. "I was not prepared to see so much."

"Yet you've told me so little," I say.

"I am also limited by what I can understand. You are an enigma, Count."

Somehow, I get the feeling there is much more to her vision than she is telling me. I decide to shift the topic back to Kalen. If he's going to be trouble, I want to be prepared.

"So, do you know what Kalen is up to?"

Rook considers the water for a moment, still avoiding my gaze. I don't press her. I wait patiently for her to reply. When she does, her voice is sad almost like she is in mourning already. "That is up to you. By our laws, an Arbiter will come to settle your dispute with Nightbringer. If you pursue the matter, Nightbringer will lose the land. It will be yours to claim, should you wish it."

I discard that notion immediately. "This was all a mistake," I say. "I'm not about to screw him or you over."

"You're a good man, Count. The problem is Kalen. He will still use the incident to show Nightbringer is not fit to govern here. He will challenge him to a duel, one he cannot win in his condition.

"What do you mean? It should be a fair fight."

Rook shakes her head. "I am also a healer. Your kick hurt Nightbringer. I think you might have broken one or two of his ribs. He will be no match for Kalen. The Unseelie will kill him and take all that he holds dear."

" _Including Rook,_ " Kara says sadly.

"No, not going to happen," This time I know my internal reply is being spoken out loud. I don't care.

"I wish to ask you a boon. If you would save Nightbringer, pursue your claim. Kalen will not be able to touch him," She then touches my cheek and murmurs "I would be in your debt."

Maybe that is what she saw. I find myself tempted by the offer and feelings. I also find myself a little disgusted with myself. I've never taken advantage of a woman before. I'm not about to start now. I need a new plan.

"If it's a duel, doesn't Nightbringer get to have a second to fight for him because he is unable?"

I'm not sure who will answer me first. I don't care. I'm desperate for answers. Rook answers first. "After his attack on you, no one would do such a thing. He was clearly in the wrong. If his guilt was in doubt, many would come to his aid."

"I see. Well, we better get back."

" _Don't do anything stupid,_ " Kara warns. I assure her it's already too late when I say "Trust me."

***

The party is over. More than few fix me with flat unfriendly gazes. I am an outsider and part of the problem. Even though it wasn't my fault, I am being used as a pawn in this game. I get the impression some of Nightbringer's friends might take it upon themselves to make sure I don't leave these woods alive. That is when Kara points out a tall Fae who stands apart from the rest.

"Excuse me, are you the Arbiter?"

It's a guess on my part. From his bearing, it would make sense, but why is he here now? Rook thought it would take some time before he arrived.

"Yes, I am Aleric the Strong," The Fae replies. There is no hint of a smile. His name and title are said as if he were speaking a universal truth, not some idle bit of posturing. "There is a story to go with my title but you did not seek me out for that."

I nod. "I thought it would take more time to summon an Arbiter."

Aleric gives me a hard look, his eyes narrow slightly. "Yes, it would have taken longer but I happened to be in the neighborhood."

"I guess it was fortunate... for Kalen."

More likely, it was part of Kalen's plan. I doubt Aleric is part of this. If anyone ever looked incorruptible, it's this man. He'll stick to the letter and spirit of the law when it comes time to make a ruling. He'll supervise Nightbringer's murder in the guise of a duel. Aleric's next words confirm my suspicions and add a slight chill to the air.

"I do not like being used. Kalen is safe from my wrath but you, my friend, are not. What is it that you want?" he asks.

"You think I'm part of this set up?" Aleric doesn't reply. His look says it all. I take a moment to swallow my anger before continuing. "I'm just curious about something. If I don't press my claim, can I choose to be Nightbringer's second?"

The question catches Aleric by surprise. He gives me another look, this one more appraising. "You could, but why would you want to? It would be unheard of."

I shrug. "But it would be legal?"

Aleric nods slowly. He doesn't know what I am up to. Neither does Kara. Just like the Arbiter, I don't like being used. I'm going to set things right and get a little payback. Finally Aleric speaks. "I might have been wrong in my assessment of you. I don't know what you are planning but I wish you luck with it."

" _You're going to need it,_ " Kara murmurs.

***

It doesn't take me long to find Kalen. He seems pleased with himself. I make it my business to wreck his mood.

"I hear Nightbringer's fate is in my hands," I say.

This causes Kalen to give me a very unfriendly look. "You could put it that way. What is it that you want? A boon? I am sorry. You have nothing to offer me."

I direct my question to Kara, " _A boon? What is he talking about?_ "

Kara is quick to give me an answer. It was as if she had been waiting for this question all night. " _The Fae don't accept payment in coin. They deal in boons and favors. It's their currency. For them, a whispered word or favor is more valuable than wealth. The more people who owe you, the more power you have in their little games. A boon from the right person can be very useful. If you say you owe a Fae, he or she will collect one day._ "

"I see. That's alright. I wouldn't feel right about handing over my land once I claim it."

"Your land?" He asks incredulously. Only with effort does Kalen get his voice under control again. "You can't do that," He says.

"And why not? It seems like a nice place to build a house," I say.

Kara laughs at that. She didn't expect me to say that. She thought I would take a more direct approach. Sometimes she forgets, I like to use my brain before my brawn.

Kalen seems beside himself with anger. He didn't really plan on me pressing my claim. Maybe he intended to be the one Nightbringer attacked?. Whatever the case may be, his plan is now in danger.

"I suppose I could just give the land to whomever I chose, even back to Nightbringer," Now, I smile. It's the sort of expression a used car salesman tried to use on me once. It gets my point across.

The Unseelie's hands open and close as if he wishes they were throttling me. "You would make a mockery of our laws," He says.

I would, but I doubt Aleric would allow such a thing. Then again, he might just get repay Kalen. It doesn't matter.

"Someone did that already when they set Nightbringer up. Course, if you have a different idea. I am all ears."

"Ah, I get it now. You want to make a deal. Well played, sir. Well played." Kalen pauses, raising his voice so that all can hear our bargain. Any agreement would be useless without witnesses or a way to enforce our deal. "I can see offering you a boon in return for letting me deal with Nightbringer concerning his attack on you."

I reply in an equally loud voice "I'll let you present your case to the Arbiter, if that is what you mean."

"It is," He says.

"Then we shouldn't have a problem." I say using the same smile from earlier.

No sooner than we finish shaking hands does Kara say, " _I hope you know what you are doing. You just doomed Nightbringer._ "

Before I can fill Kara in on the rest of my plan, someone spins me around. I see the look of shock and betrayal on Rook's face before her slap rocks my world.

"You have chosen your path, base one," She screams, before storming off to rejoin Nightbringer.

Kalen watches her go, leering at her retreating figure. "Don't worry friend. I will keep her out of trouble once Nightbringer is dead. The half elven will be too busy to think of you."

" _Only if I screw up,_ " I murmur to Kara.

***

Kalen doesn't waste any time calling out Nightbringer for his attack on me. I see the expression on the satyr's face. He has no choice but to accept. Honor and pride demand it. I let him do what he has to do then I do what I have to do. I raise my voice so that I can be heard by the crowd present. "I'll be Nightbringer's second."

I am rewarded with chaos and mayhem. It takes Aleric several minutes to restore order. Only Kara knew what I was planning. Aleric had a good idea but he wasn't sure I would go through with it. No one else, not even the seer, had forseen this. Kalen is furious with righteous indignation. I resist the urge to laugh.

"Deciever! Traitorous wretch! You honorless gutless cur!" He screams.

"And why is that? Because I won't let you butcher Nightbringer under the pretense of a duel? He's hurt and in no shape to fight you. It is the only honorable thing to do," I say.

"And what of your word?" Kalen asks. His tone is low and dangerous.

I don't try to keep the anger out of my voice. "I said I would let you press charges on my behalf. I didn't promise anything else. If you wanted something more, you should have said so."

That stops Kalen in his tracks. It looks like this round goes to me. "Well played," He says. The smile he gives me is chilling. "Then again, maybe not. If you want to throw your life away in a duel against me then so be it."

"Wait, the duel doesn't have to be to the death," Nightbringer says. It gives me time to close my mouth. I didn't think this part through. If Kalen was willing to kill one of his own kind for this land and Rook, he would have no problems killing an outsider like me.

"Don't kid yourself, Nightbringer," Kalen says. "We both know I was going to kill you, even this uppity mortal knew that. A pity he wanted to be clever. He'll die in your place as a lesson to anyone else who seeks to get the better of me."

"Isn't there something like a choice of weapons?" I say.

"Choose any weapon you like, fool," He sneers. "I will be able to use all my powers and abilities to destroy you. Your crude physical talents will do you no good, mortal."

Now Aleric speaks. "The battle will be tomorrow afternoon in the light of day. It will give both of you time to prepare."

Kalen frowns, not liking this one bit. He is ready and eager to kill me now. With a shrug, he relents. "It will give the mortal time to make peace with his misbegotten maker or to flee. Of course, doing so will mean I win by forfeit."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that," I say. "I plan on sticking around."

***

Rook and Nightbringer just stare at me as I unroll my sleeping bag. Nightbringer is the first to voice his thoughts. "Why?" he asks.

"Why am I fighting him or why didn't I just keep it between us?"

"I'll let you decide which question to answer friend," he says.

"You have to deal with this guy here and now. Some problems can't be left to fester. They'll only get worse," I say.

"I see," Nightbringer says with a smile. "You think like a warrior."

" _Meaning not enough,_ " Kara mutters across the link.

"Shhhh. I need to get some rest."

Rook leans over to plant a kiss on my cheek on the spot where she slapped me. "Count, I am so sorry. I didn't know what you were about. I still don't. You are risking a great deal. I hope you know what you're doing."

"Everyone keeps asking me that. Don't worry. I'm not going to let Kalen murder me."

Kara grumbles across our link, " _He might not give you a choice._ "

***

Breakfast is filled with talk. As I eat what could be my last meal, Nightbringer goes over the rules. It seems pretty clear cut. Still, I have a question.

"If by some chance, I gain the upper hand, can I force him to surrender without killing him?" I ask.

"Maybe, but Kalen might force the issue to save face. Of course, his kin would not be able to seek vengeance against you, not openly. They will probably send an assassin or five to kill you."

"I see. So I need to get him to surrender or kill him and insure his family won't assassinate me."

Nightbringer can't help but chuckle as he says, "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Any other good news?" I ask.

"No, though I am curious why you are taking a wood staff into battle and not some weapon of cold iron."

"I don't want to kill him and I'm better with a staff than I am with knives or swords."

"It's your funeral," He says.

"Thanks for your support," I reply evenly.

As we head to the dueling grounds, a small impish looking creature approaches us. "Care to make a wager on the battle?" it asks.

Nightbringer shakes his head, giving me a warning look. "What would we bet?" I ask.

"Years of service," it says.

I try not to sound too amused. "How would I pay up if Kalen kills me?"

"Hehehe, where there is a will there is a way," It replies with an expression that really creeps me out.

"Um, right. I'll pass," I say.

Nightbringer slaps me on the back. "Smart move, Count. I think it's your first this weekend."

***

As Aleric explains the rules, Kalen doesn't even bother to select a weapon to bring with him into battle. I listen even though I've heard this all from Nightbringer. Halfway thru the explanation, I say, "Um, can we skip to the rules that have nothing to do with magic. I'm not a sorcerer or anything like that."

For the second time in twenty four hours, I shock everyone around me. Before, they thought I was a little crazy. Now, they don't know what to think.

Kalen asks Aleric, "Is there anything in our laws against killing the mentally handicapped?"

Aleric shakes his head as he leaves the circle where our combat is to take place. Kalen wastes no time. I'm surprised he didn't make some sort of grandiose speech. He just wants this over and done with.

The glamour Kalen throws against my senses and reality would be enough to frighten someone to death. Everyone can feel its power rushing out towards me, warping the confines of the circle. I don't know how Nightbringer would have coped with such an attack. The magic washes over me like a tidal wave. I feel the world sway but only for a moment. The glamour breaks against my power.

It looks like I am on a roll. For the third time, I shock everyone. I wasn't sure my gift would protect me. It was a risk, one Kara didn't think we should take. Even though I survived Kalen's attack, I never want to go through something like that again. Who knows, in time he might be able to overwhelm my gift. I don't give it to him. I charge forward, lunging with my staff.

I'm not as good with weapons as I am with my bare hands so I'm careful. I use what I hope is the right amount of force to drive the air from his lungs. As he doubles over, I swing the staff in a tight arc to crack him on the side of the head. It's hard enough to send him down but not hard enough to crack bone or draw blood. You can kill someone with a stick or club as easily as you can with a knife. I can hear everyone yelling while Aleric shouts for order. Out the corner of my eye, Rook and Nightbringer hug one another. There is just one last thing to do.

"Kalen, yield," I say.

The Unseelie spits up at me. He spits the word "Never" at me, followed by another glamour. This one is not a powerful as the first. It does no better than his last spell.

"Kalen, you owe me a boon. I ask that you surrender and we'll be square."

I look down at Kalen as he curses my name but he can't refuse. He is bound by the law and his word. I don't know what the penalty for refusing a boon is. It is probably worse than death.

Kalen mutters, "I yield."

I turn from him to wave to Rook and Nightbringer. They are laughing and cheering for me. It feels good, then the cheering turns to cries of warning. I glance back at Kalen who is still lying where I left him. The Fae rips two blades of grass from the ground and flings them at me. In midair, his Glamour turns them to knives.

Kara screams, " _Move!_ " but I don't. I've proven that his spells can't hurt me. Now, it is my turn to be surprised. One of the knives buries itself in my shoulder. The other lodges between two ribs.

Kara continues to scream at me as I tumble into the darkness.

***

"You are very lucky my friend," Nightbringer smiles down at me. "You would have died if it weren't for Rook."

"What happened?" I ask even though I remember the knives thudding into me.

Kara's voice is soft but tinged with anger. "Y _our gift has limits, Count. This is one of them. Most magic won't be able to touch you but things created by magic are still dangerous. You have to be careful. You have to trust me._ "

"We couldn't use the glamour to heal you. It took all of Rook's skills to have any kind of effect on you," Nightbringer says. "Your 'gift' is a double edged sword."

" _That is the other price for your power. It works against all magic, not just the stuff trying to harm you,_ " Kara says.

I nod slowly, closing my eyes as Nightbringer continues. "It took a lot out of her to save you."

" _You owe Rook your life but don't say that,_ " Kara murmurs. " _I doubt she would use the words to enslave you but it's best to be careful._ "

"Thank you," I say.

"No Count, it is I who should be thanking you. This land is ours now and forever. Aleric used Kalen's actions to get the Unseelie to relinquish all claim to it. That's good. It was the least they could do since one of the royal household tried to murder you."

"Royal household?" I wince at that.

"You didn't know Kalen was one of their Princes?"

"I see," Now the comment about assassins makes sense. Killing a nobody in a duel is one thing, killing a prince is a different story.

Nightbringer catches my look. "You won't have to worry about him or his kin. Aleric was quite put out over the whole matter and Kalen's bad form. The Arbiter hopes you will forgive and forget this matter. He would be in your debt."

"Consider it done. Now, I need to get home. I don't think I can survive any more rest and relaxation," I say.

"In time Count, Rook still needs to finish her work on you before you're fit enough for travel. Just rest and get better."

***

"I was wrong about the path you had chosen," Rook says.

I shrug off her words. She had apologized to me far too many times. If it weren't for her I would be dead. I murmur, "That was my fault. You didn't know me. If I were in your place, I would have thought the same thing."

She lets it go. As the days and nights pass in her and Nightbringer's company, they tend my wounds and I want for nothing. I spend the days resting in a bed of flowers and the nights enjoying music under the stars. Finally, it's time to go home. Nightbringer stays at the camp to tidy up. He doesn't like saying goodbye. I don't mind. It gives me the chance to speak to Rook again as she leads me back to the road.

"You are very lucky. Not everyone can live the life they want," Rook says. "You've chosen a hard path and the role you have chosen to play has made it harder."

"And what role is that?" I ask. I still don't know.

"Nightbringer would call it the path of heroism, but your role is less and more than that. I lack the words to describe it but I hope it leads you to happiness."

"Even if it doesn't, could I have made any other choice than the one I did?"

Rook laughs at that. "And still be who you are? No. Now, I understand part of what I saw."

"And what part was that?" I ask.

"This," She leans close, drawing me into an embrace that warms me body and soul. In an instant, I know her and Nightbringer in ways I had not dreamed of possible. Instinctively, I know it is their gift to me. It means I am forever in their hearts and thoughts. "You have our thanks and friendship, Count. Dream of us, we will dream of you," She murmurs.

Reluctantly, she lets me go. I step out from the woods and onto the side of the road. Right on time, my bus pulls up in front of me. I don't bother looking back or waving goodbye. Rook is already gone.

" _You could go back and join them,_ " Kara says " _You would be welcome there._ "

"No, I can't stay there. I need to go forward," I say it out loud, not caring who hears me. With that said, I climb onto the bus. This little vacation has pointed me in the direction I want to go. I like helping people. I might be able to do that here but there are people back home who could use my help more. They know even less than about the supernatural. I'm going to do just that from now one. It's what I want to do.

Kara's fills my mind with warmth. The idea appeals to her too. Her silent agreement makes it and the world feel right for the first time in weeks.

# About the Author

Richard Jackson was born in New York and raised in the Bronx. He has been writing off and on since high school. Over the years, he has held a variety of jobs and worked in a wide range of fields. It's given him a very diverse skill set which has come in handy on numerous occasions. His interests include the martial arts, costuming, travel, gaming and just having fun. He enjoys meeting and talking to people with similar interests.

If you wish to learn more about the author or contact him, visit his blog at <http://kyrin007.wordpress.com/>.

#  Bibliography

The Count Albritton Series

Enter the world of Count Albritton. It is a world where magic and the supernatural are very real. Creatures of legend, sorcerers and other powers walk among us. As a paranormal investigator, Count helps people with supernatural problems the authorities are either unwilling or unable to deal with. It's dangerous work. Luckily he has Kara, a beautiful guardian angel to help him.

**Grave Digging** : A vengeful revenant and a double crossing wizard are just the start of Count's problems. Follow his adventures in this set of four short stories.

**The Hunger** : A mystery from the past leads to death in the present and launches Count on a quest for justice. Can he stop the immortal called The Hunger? (coming August 2011)

The Incarnates: Lovers

Who and what are the Incarnates? After an encounter with a stranger, Bethany is about to find out. The answer is just the beginning of her adventures as she is plunged into a world of magic she never knew existed.

**The Incarnates: Lovers** includes the first four short stories in this series set in the same world as the Count Albritton series. (Coming July 2011)

Fall from Grace

As a broadcaster, Tyler uses cybernetic implants to broadcast his emotions and experiences to the viewers at home. He is living a life of action and adventure--until he loses his job. Now he must hustle illegal broadcasts and take odd jobs to survive.

When his agent is killed, Tyler is framed for the crime. With his only allies--an ex-cop turned criminal and a bartending medical student--Tyler is plunged into the middle of a mystery and comes face to face with the darker side of the broadcasting industry. Tyler soon learns there is much more for him to lose...and much farther to fall.
