Storm Of Magick Part 4

Paris pulled up next to the building and slowed. Before he could stop, I had the door open and hit the ground running. Yeah, just call me John Wayne. It was more like slipping and sliding as my boots. .h.i.t the ice. Now my stomach was in my throat and I tried to take a deep breath, but my body couldn't quite get one.

I ran blindly through the doors, to the stairs and up I went. I didn't think twice about it, not smart on my part. I heard running ahead and a door close, but no one was behind me. I stopped at the closed door that led to the second floor and listened. When I looked back down the stairs, the only one I saw was the Keeper. The stairwell was dark except for the single emergency floodlight. I heard the sounds of walking and voices. There were two, maybe three men. Then nothing.

"Where in the h.e.l.l is everyone?" I whispered urgently. I could feel sweat on my forehead and my mouth was dry.

"There was a welcoming party at the door. They stopped to take care of them," the Keeper said.

How did I miss them? I wondered. I didn't have time to worry about it now. "Are you my back up?" I asked.

The Keeper held the staff tight in his right hand and nodded. I hoped he was as good with that staff as I thought. I opened the door slowly and slowly stuck my head out into the hallway. No one was in sight. We moved out into the open. Whoever the intruders were, they didn't know Sam had called for reinforcements.

The light from Sam's office shone on the glossy floor in the hallway. I could see shadows moving in the light. We took three cautious steps into the hall and walked into the scent of sour musk, lycanthrope. I heard a heart-stopping scream and I ran, fueled by my need to protect Sam, leaving the Keeper in the hallway. Okay, there are times like now when I throw caution to the wayside and run blindly into danger.

I reached the splintered door and saw Sam lying on the floor. Three men, lycanthropes, were tearing the room apart. I went for the closest one to me, who also looked to be the biggest. I was outnumbered and outsized, but I didn't give a d.a.m.n.

The werefox stood five foot eleven, with white hair tied into a tight ponytail. He wore all black. White Hair took my front kick to the chin. I had a few advantages on my side. I was shorter, more limber, and he didn't know how to fight and I did. I had several years of Kempo under my belt.

The Keeper got the other two werefoxes. At a glance, I could see that he did handle the staff with incredible ease, just like I thought he would. All my roundhouse kick got from White Hair was a grunt. His backhand caught me on the right cheek. I tried to pull my gun but I was too busy blocking punches. White Hair was getting the best of me. I reached out, using my empathy to connect with Alex. He was in his lab, hunched over a microscope and in deep concentration. The sterile room smelled of rubbing alcohol. A scent I never liked.

"Alex, I need to borrow your strength," I whispered in his head. Borrowing someone's power was unpredictable, especially when you're just learning to do it. I had to make the best of the time I had with his power.

Before he could answer me, I filled him with a surge of my magick and his power filled me in return. Now maybe White Hair would feel my punches and kicks. He took a sidekick to the chest, and this time his grunt told me that he felt it! The kick made him take two steps back and a couple seconds to catch his breath. At a quick glace the Keeper told me that he had things well in hand too.

I looked back at the werefox in front of me and saw nothing but a very large fist. He made contact with my eye, and then my stomach. I tasted bile in the back of my throat. I didn't remember falling to my knees but I do remember trying to breathe. My breath came in small, painful gasps and now my head ached. I so wasn't going to puke. My eye felt like it was going to explode. Little white dots danced in front of my eyes. Now was not a good time to pa.s.s out.

White Hair really knew how to treat a lady. A couple kicks to the ribs and a blow to my jaw put me on my back. He took a couple steps towards me. My foot connected with the side of his knee. I heard a low wet pop and he went down with a scream. At this angle, I knew I blew out his knee, forcing him to join me on the floor.

"Doesn't that just hurt like a b.i.t.c.h?" I asked in a strained voice, looking at him.

I don't know what I would've done if he got up but, finally I heard our reinforcements coming up the stairs. Just in time. White Hair wasn't happy with his blown-out knee and grabbed my throat, choking me. I couldn't breathe and again the little white dots appeared. I could feel Alex's power leaking away and my own power slammed back into me. It started to build and I lost control of the surge, which sent a small ripple directly at White Hair. Then everything went black.

When I came around, I felt someone rubbing my face and holding my hand. The hand was warm and familiar. I slowly opened my eyes to see Paris kneeling by me. I lay there a second, unsure how I was going to feel when I moved.

I moved slowly at first, until I remembered Sam was seriously injured. Then I sat up quickly. I needed to know how badly she was hurt. As soon as I sat up, my head swam and I could feel my heart in my throat. "How's Sam?" I asked, pus.h.i.+ng my pain aside. I didn't have time to feel bad.

"She's unconscious. We have to get her to the hospital. It's not good, Logan. She's been beaten pretty badly," Paris said gently.

"The way this room is ripped apart, I would have to say that those gentlemen were looking for something of importance," Ronan said.

I sat there for a second, thinking. Then it occurred to me - the scrolls and the strange knife. Were they still here?

"Get me up! I think I know why they were here," I said as I got to my feet, "There were three scrolls and a strange-looking knife that Sam found while on a dig in Mexico." I explained to them what Sam told me.

The Keeper sat beside Sam while the rest of us looked through the mess for the scrolls and knife. We moved papers, looked under books, and everywhere I could think. When we moved the piles of books and papers that sat in the middle of the room, the books Sam had shown me were underneath. I picked up four of the books and a small CD fell out. I handed the books to Ailin and picked up the small disc. It had to be important or it wouldn't have been with the books.

I looked at Sam, thinking. Where would she put something she didn't want anyone to find? As if staring at her would tell me. Did she even have enough time to hide the scrolls? Then it dawned on me. When we were in college, Sam would pull back the cloth under the couch and hide things inside.

I lay down by the couch, reaching up under, and felt around for the piece of cloth that was pulled away. Nothing at that end. I turned to the other end and there was the loose corner. I reached inside the hole and touched the edge of one of the scrolls. I pulled out one, then two, but that was it. Again, I could feel the old magick dancing along my skin.

"Paris, I need to see the bottom of the couch," I said, getting up out of the way, "there's a scroll and the strange knife still missing."

With one hand, Paris gently pushed the couch on to its back. With the sound of fine silk being torn, I pulled away the cloth. There was nothing else inside. At least we had two of the scrolls. I guess it was better than nothing. I handed the scrolls to Ailin, then went to Sam and knelt down beside her.

My head hurt and I felt like s.h.i.+t, but at least I wasn't down for the count. The right side of Sam's face was covered in deep purple bruises and eye was swollen shut. She looked so fragile. I vowed that when I caught up to the three lycanthropes, I was going kill them. Not the quick snap-of-the-neck kind of death either. I don't do torture but I was about to start.

"Okay this is how things are going to go," I started. When things get out of my control, I stick to business. "Ronan, you and Ailin go back to the Realm. Ailin, give Caleb the CD, and you and him get to work on the scrolls. Research what the scrolls are for, why they are so important, anything you can find out will help. Paris, the Keeper, and I will take Sam to the hospital. We'll meet you back at the Realm as soon as we can," I said evenly. To say I was p.i.s.sed about this whole d.a.m.n mess would be understating the fact, but I had to stay calm or risk losing control of my magick.

I looked at Paris, "Please carry Sam to the van." He lifted her with ease and headed for the door. I started to follow, but Ronan stopped me, catching my shoulder.

"I do hope that your friend will recover, Logan," he said in a somber voice, "I will see you at the Realm." He kissed the back of my hand, then he and Ailin were gone in a blur and only a hint of jasmine and heather lingered behind, along with the feel of his hand on my arm. He was beautiful and for some odd reason, I was drawn to him.

I shook the feeling off and grabbed a small blanket that laid on the floor to cover Sam up in the van. The Keeper and I stared at each other for a moment. It was in that moment I knew he would be sticking around. Well at least for a while. We smiled at each other and walked out into the hallway, where the familiar smell of old books and Pine-sol reminded me of my college days. We hurried back down the stairs to the main gla.s.s doors. I had a lump in my throat but I didn't have time to break down.

I took out my cell phone and dialed Doyle. "Doyle its Logan," I said.

"Yeah, Wolf, what do you need?" he asked. I could hear a plethora of noise in the background.

"Someone busted into my friend, Samantha Williams' office at the college at the Chandler Building."

"Where are you right now?" Doyle asked, sounding more official.

"We're taking Sam to the hospital, Doyle, she was badly beaten," I answered, getting into the vehicle.

"Did you see the attackers?" he asked, now sounding a little irritated.

"We confronted three men. They ripped her office apart and beat the h.e.l.l out of her, Doyle," I said. I knew where this line of questioning was going and I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming.

"I'm sending a couple of units over and I want you here for questioning tomorrow," he said.

"You got it," I answered and the phone went dead. I closed the phone and returned it to my pocket.

I couldn't keep everyone safe and I couldn't be everywhere at once, but d.a.m.n it, I felt useless. And so, f.u.c.king p.i.s.sed I could barely stand myself. If I told Doyle about the scrolls, it would put him and his people in danger and I couldn't risk that.

Why would anyone want those scrolls? I guess I would find out the answer to that question when I caught up with White Hair. I hoped when I got to the Realm, Caleb and Ailin would be able to tell me what those d.a.m.n scrolls were for. Whatever it was, I had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.

The Keeper rode in the back with Sam. I tended to get carsick sometimes, so riding in the back was out of the question for me. Paris drove as fast as the weather would allow, which wasn't fast at all. I could see the hospital lights just barely through the snow. There were quite a few cars in the hospital parking lot. It seemed like a few other people were also having a bad night.

Chapter 6.

Paris pulled up close to the emergency door, parked and shut off the engine. We got out and the Keeper carefully pa.s.sed Sam to Paris through the side door. We didn't exactly run for reception, but we did walk at a fast pace.

I hated the disinfectant smell of hospitals. Maybe it made me think about my father. He died in a climbing accident when my twin brother and I were four. My mother committed suicide not long after, so I never knew either of my parents.

The doctor immediately admitted Sam and ordered a battery of tests. I insisted that we waited here until Sam was in her room and I knew something. The waiting room looked like every other with its cold blue walls and uncomfortable furniture. We were the only ones who occupied it. I stood and stared out the window. The darkness looked inviting. There weren't any problems in the darkness.

I felt Paris standing behind me. I don't know how long he had been there. Maybe he'd sensed my uneasiness. I turned, putting my arms around his waist and laid my head on his chest. He was so warm, or I was cold with worry. But, being a lycanthrope, his body temperature stayed several degrees higher than mine, and that was comforting right now.

"Sam's going to be okay," he said, running his hand down my hair. My hair had started out pulled back in a ponytail until the fight, now it hung to the middle of my back, very straight and thick.

I nodded, but I wasn't thinking about Sam. I was angry she lay in the hospital but all I could do was to think about the beckoning of the darkness. Alluring, magnetic darkness, whispering to me like a lover...

Okay, Logan get your s.h.i.+t together. I shook as if I had gotten a cold chill. I didn't know how long we had been waiting to hear something, but I needed a moment alone. If I didn't leave Paris's arms now, I didn't know if I would ever be able to. If not to anyone else, I could admit it to myself: I loved Paris.

"I need a bathroom break." I said, pulling away and starting down the hall. The bathroom and vending machines weren't that far and I needed to stretch my legs. My stomach grumbled and I realized I hadn't eaten all day.

The bathroom was empty and smelled of potpourri. I did my business then stood at the sink to splash some cold water on my face. I dried off and looked at myself in the mirror, shocked for a second by my reflection. I'd forgotten that I got the s.h.i.+t knocked out of me earlier.

My face was pale. A dark purple bruise decorated my eye and right cheek, and I could taste dry blood in my mouth. Oh yeah, I was going to hurt tomorrow. I had fingerprints around my neck, but other than that, I was good to go.

The problem was I couldn't get a clear thought in my head. It was the calling of the darkness again. The more I tried to think about any one thing, the worse the fogginess got.

At least it wasn't the surge, thankfully. It had quieted earlier, but I still didn't dare try a spell, even if it was just for clarity. I reached out cautiously with my magick to Ronan. I hated the fact that I had to depend on someone else, but until I got better control, Ronan was the only other person close to my power level who could help.

"Logan is there something wrong?" he asked in my head.

"Yes, there's something wrong. I can't get a clear thought. All I can hear is the call of the darkness. I can sense something different about myself, but I really can't pinpoint what it is," I whispered.

"I too can sense something, I will try to use a spell to help you gain control, but you may need a protection amulet," he said. Within a second, I could feel Ronan's strong presence and even smell the sweet scent of jasmine. It was as if a ghost pa.s.sed through me, pus.h.i.+ng the haze out of my head. It would be a great spell to add to my Book of Shadows. A resourceful witch is always looking for good spells.

"We should be leaving for the Realm soon. I'll fill you in when I see you. Thank you for your help," I said.

"I shall see you soon and you are welcome," he said and our connection broke.

I felt better. I was still sore and pale, but other than that, I felt like myself. I pulled open the door and walked down the hall back towards the waiting room. From the other end of the hallway, I could see the doctor that we'd left Sam with. At the same time, Paris came behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. The Keeper stood behind Paris, but out of arms reach.

"I'm Dr. Clark, the neurologist. I've been with Samantha. Your friend is in a coma. She's had severe head trauma," the doctor explained, "I'm afraid all we can do is watch and wait."

There was a reason doctors are called practicing physicians.

I thanked him and left him my cell number. There was nothing I could do for Sam so I couldn't worry about it now. Before we could leave the hallway, my cell rang.

"Logan, its Dr. Hicks. We have a vampire down here that's gone crazy. We're waiting for an emergency C. O. K. to come through. Can you come down here to do the kill?" he asked frantically.

C. O. K. was short for a Court Order Kill. If a supernatural being racked up enough points, they got a visit from me. The creatures died different ways, depending on what flavor they were. I'd informed the courts that this was just a temporary job, until someone else was trained.

"I'm at the hospital now. I'll be right there," I said and closed my cell.

Cedars Hospital was the county seat for all sick, new, or bad supernatural beings. This section of the hospital was on the main level in the older part of the building. Paris and I headed for the elevator. The Keeper agreed to stay in the waiting room and meet us when we were finished.

When C.O.Ks was first instigated, there were many mistakes and those mistakes were quietly swept under the rug. The problem was humans didn't care about supernatural beings - some even hated them. Some groups thought it was better to wipe them all out - and witches weren't too far down on the list.

Many humans don't like anything different; they tend to get rid of what is different, especially if it scares them. Scientists wanted to study the supernatural creatures, but they couldn't do anything until the proper legislation pa.s.sed or failed. I refuse to capture any creatures for study. I'll kill 'em if I have to but I won't bring 'em back for study.

The elevator door opened and we walked down the hall to the nurses' station. I had my badge clipped to my coat so I didn't have to screw around with it later. Only one nurse stood behind the large, round desk. I flashed my badge and waited for the paper work for the kill. As the nurse handed the papers to me, we heard yelling and s.h.i.+t breaking from down the hall.

I took my Ruger from the small of my back and ran towards the noise. Paris shot by me in a blur of speed, reached the doorway, and dropped his Beretta. Paris carried a gun mostly for me; being a lycanthrope, he was more dangerous than the weapon. By the time I reached the room, Paris already had a hold of a male vampire. The vampire was inches away from Dr. Hicks. Hicks himself was as pale as the vampire in front of him and his eyes were as large as fifty-cent pieces.

"What the h.e.l.l happened? Why wasn't he sedated?" I yelled.

Dr. Hicks stood five foot eleven, with messed up, dirty blond hair and ordinary blue eyes. A doctor's white coat was the only professional thing he wore, with faded blue jeans, a faded Eagles t-s.h.i.+rt and a pair of Nikes. "We pumped him full of several different sedatives, but nothing has put him down yet," he told me, a tad bit of fear in his voice.

The good doctor started backing away from Paris and the vampire as quick as his Nikes would move him. Paris is strong, but even he was having a rough time holding on to the psychotic vampire. They wrestled around, knocking trays and bottles to the floor. The gla.s.s shattered like an icicle falling to the ground, and liquid went everywhere. I aimed my Ruger, trying to lock onto the vampire. It had to be a killing shot but I couldn't kill the vampire without hitting Paris. I wasn't willing to hurt or kill Paris.

"Hold him still so I can get a shot!" I yelled.

"What do you think I'm doing? Teaching him to dance?" Paris yelled back. I think he was getting p.i.s.sed.

The vampire got away from Paris and just stood looking at me, but he didn't go for anyone. I had the shot. But, the trigger stuck or something. My gun misfired, and Paris had dropped his in the hallway, which put it about six feet away. A deadly vampire in front of me and the weapon out of reach; I was s.h.i.+t out of luck.

Paris tackled the vampire again and I headed for the door. Halfway there the vampire hit me in the back and rode me to the floor with Paris on his back. The vampire was ravenous and I was the meal. Like h.e.l.l.

"Paris, get him off me!" I yelled.

"Working on it," Paris answered, voice strained. He heaved the vampire off my back.

"Hicks, did you pump this guy up with steroids?" I called, pulling myself to my feet as the vampire launched itself at me again. Paris held it back, barely.

"No! What kind of question is that?" Hicks retorted as if I had insulted him.

Even Paris, a werefox, was having a hard time holding on to this guy. The vampire was getting closer to my neck, which made me a bit uncomfortable. I was done! Then I thought - if Ronan could talk to me in my head, maybe I could talk to him. Good in theory! I whispered aloud to Ronan; feeling stupid.

"Ronan, I need your help."

"Who is she talking to?" Hicks asked, sounding panicked.

"Shut up! She's trying to save all of our a.s.ses and if you say another word, I'll rip your throat out myself!" Paris said angrily.

"Ronan." I didn't have to say it again.

"Logan, I feel urgency in you. Has something gone wrong?" Ronan whispered in my head.

"Yes! I need your strength. I have a vampire that is nuts and inches away from my neck," I snapped.

"Open yourself to me and I will a.s.sist you," he answered.

I did what he said asked without hesitation. For some strange reason, I always trusted him. I thought about his strength, then felt something stir in my whole body, a warmth. I couldn't pinpoint where it started but it grew until I felt I could lift a car. I tried again to push the vampire off. No luck.

"Ronan, it's not enough! I need more strength," I cried.

"I will try to send you more, but I shall have to enter you spiritually to give you my full strength," he warned me.