AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I step inside and am met with a wall of must. The place is old and not kept up very well. But I can still scent the dark magic loud above the background noise of mold and mildew.
He was definitely here. Maybe just to rest? Fuck, I hope just to rest.
I follow my nose through a dimly lit corridor, Max close behind. He’s mindful of every door we pass, which is good, because now the calling is so all-consuming my periphery falls away, leaving only the tunnel of my focus. This way, Asha, the voice taunts.
Hell, an enemy could be standing right beside me, and I wouldn’t even notice. There’s nothing but the scent, and the fear of what the scent will mean.
I come to a stairwell and pause. After a quick survey of the nearby rooms, Max stands beside me and asks, “Up?”
My eyes follow the steps to the second-floor landing. Under the spell of my magic sensitivity, it takes on a doomy cast.
“Yes.”
Even though I don’t want to go. Even though we’re just getting closer to whatever waits for us in the shadows of this building.
Footfalls echo from above. The hackles raise on my wolf’s neck. Max’s eyes stare intently into the stairwell. We both await the arrival of whoever descends. Could it be Simon? Could he have masked himself until this moment?
My breath hitches when a figure turns the corner and pauses. An old woman with a hunchback and a shock of gray hair stairs down at us. “Are you here about the noise?” she asks, voice quavering with age.
Noise? It could be tied to Simon, or it could be something else. But I’m not betting that it’s a coincidence.
Max and I exchange looks. “Yes,” he replies, quick to keep our cover.
The old woman holds out her arms. “Be a dear, would you?” she asks, looking down at the set of stairs she still needs to make her way down.
I watch Max inhale slowly, breathing in the woman, catching her scent. It only takes him a moment before I see him relax ever-so-slightly. He’s got the same instinct I do: the woman’s not a threat. Just a human who has no idea about the dangers surrounding her.
Max hustles to her side, then offers the crook of his elbow so she can hook her arm through it. Cautiously, they reach the first floor hallway, and she pats Max on the cheek. “Handsome boy,” she says, shooting a not-so-furtive wink at me. As she recedes down the corridor towards the rear entry, she says, “Awful racket, whatever it was.” The metal door creaks open and she pauses to review its damage. Then, with a soft tut, she shakes her head and exits into the alley.
Max and I move back into the stairwell on high alert. The dark magic is so potent here that I can feel it beckoning my own magic forth. We are not the same. I remind myself of yesterday’s revelation, that I have control over myself. That my support system has allowed me to reject the seduction of dark magic.
At least, I hope so. I hope I’m right about how to handle my magic. Or even that it can be handled.
A deep breath helps stabilize me, as does Max’s hand on my shoulder. I look back at him and he nods confidently. You can do this. I see the encouragement in his gaze. You can do this echoes in my head as I proceed up the stairwell, advancing on the source of the dark magic.
It grows more intense with every passing floor until we reach the very top. A door stands between me and the rooftop and it vibrates in my vision. It’s like I’m on psychedelics, the handle and the faded paint rippling like water. Dive in.
I grip the handle and give it a shove. This one isn’t locked. It swings back and slams against the wall, a sound that sprawls out into the otherwise quiet night. The Milky Way dusts the sky with a million pinpricks of white light and here, away from major cities, darkness offers the perfect stage for its majesty.
But its silvery glimmer goes unappreciated by the audience gathered on the roof. Though their eyes peer into the heavens, there is no soul behind them to marvel at the stars. A half dozen dead bodies lay in a circle, mangled feet to unwashed hair. Homeless, I surmise, judging by their threadbare attire. Hard living have worn deep furrows into their skin, lines that age them beyond their years. Tough lives now ended by cruel malice.
They’ve been staged as a frame around a message scrawled inside their circle. Words written in the blood of these victims reads, “My power is growing, is yours? This isn’t The End.”
The smell of stale blood catches up to me and I feel sick. I rush to the other end of the roof and lean over, prepared to rain dinner upon the alley through which we entered. Fuck.
Warm hands settle on my back and I turn my focus to Max’s touch instead of the queasy feeling in my stomach. I place myself in his arms and fight against the breakdown I feel worming its way in. “It’s alright,” he says. “We’ll make this right.”
How can we? Each of these lives was someone. A person who was loved. A person who said their first word, who went through school, who laughed on a playground, and who was shaped by the good and the bad of their lives. They deserved better than this!
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes. Why am I not strong enough to stop all this death? Why don’t I have the power in me to make this world a better place, and chase away the evil that should have no place here?
“We’ll find him. Together. We’ll stop this,” he whispers into my hair.
“How?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Just trust me. I’ve seen a lot as an Enforcer, and I know… eventually, the good guys win, as long as they don’t give up.”
I take a breath and let it out in a rush, calming, if only by a little. Max takes this as a sign I’ve collected myself and steps away to make a call. But I’m still in pieces that I’m failing to hold together.
