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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1489182-Blood-Feud
by Tye
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1489182
Psychic detective finds he's in way over his head...
Chapter 1
         On most days, I sit in a little six by six cubicle with my nose deep in musty old tomes or reading over various reports. Generally, I like days like that. It’s got three perks to it. The first being: it’s easy. It’s easy to sit and read and find out how this officer messed up right there. The second is: it’s quick. I read at an accelerated rate so I chew through files, reports, and tombs like there no more then a few pages long. Lastly, nothing tries to eat your face, pound you into a pulp or generally kill you.
         See like I said easy.          
         Sadly today wasn’t one of those days. I walked out of the office and glowered at the cloudy skies. New York was having a storm fit (fancy that) and lately all the days had at least some clouds to all out rain or snow. I snuggled deeper into my trench coat and mumbled a few choice words about the weather, when the door behind me opened and I was temporarily re-warmed by the heater blaring inside. I turned in time to see my partner finish slipping into her leather trench coat.
         Shelly Fields was a slender woman leaning more towards a swimmer then anything. Her dark chestnut hair fell just past her shoulders and always seemed to frame her face so that you stared at her appealing smile and hazel eyes. After that killer sight you tended to notice her tan complexion that she had naturally and “never from a cancer booth”. She smiled and stared rather pointedly at me until I recovered enough to speak words coherently.
         “Why Miss. Field you are looking lovely as ever on this gloomy day.” Yep. Suave, that’s me. Shelly only rolled her eyes and nudged past me just hard enough to make me stumble a bit. I turned with the stumble and used momentum to catch up with her. She stared up at me, which wasn’t much to brag about. She was only 5’5 where as I was 6 foot nothing. We walked in silence towards our Toyota Camry, dutifully named Sheila. I got in the passengers seat and Shelly jumped in the driver seat. We buckled up and tore out of the parking lot.
         I waited a good five minutes before asking, “So you going to fill me in or am I going to wait and see the surprise?” Shelly smiled and shook her head. “Well Agent Spicer if you must know, they’ve found a third body in the past three days with the same cause of death.” Her smile immediately died and mine followed soon after. I sighed loudly, “So they waited until a third body died under “mysterious” circumstance,” I air quoted, “before calling the Spook squad.”
         The Spook squad or more formally B.P.D, Bureau of Paranormal Development was the newest branch of the government. We were the collection of freaks the government sanctioned to handle anything deemed unusual. See most people believe that the nightmares and monster aren’t real and the B.P.D are the ones who make sure it stays that way. As the newest branch most police departments or senior agencies tended to look down there noses at us. I mainly ignore them because when things got weird everyone called the Spook Squad to save their prideful asses.
         “So what’s the cause of death?” I idly question. Shelly took her eyes off the road long enough to arch an eyebrow. “You don’t think I’d honestly ruin all the surprise did you?” She smiled wickedly at me and glided through morning traffic. We pulled into a dinky run down apartment complex deep in the heart of the Bronx. I noted the graffiti coloring most walls but couldn’t discern which ones were more prominent. The building was in desperate need of renovations. The brick was a dull copper color and cracks from a faulty foundation were spreading rapidly. I followed the building until my eyes caught the police cruisers, ambulances, and coroner hearse idly waiting. Two uniforms were quietly taping off the scene.
         I hopped out of the car slipping my B.P.D badge around my neck. I walked towards the building carefully noting where the fire exits were and which side of the building the fire escape was on. I lifted my badge at the uniform, a young kid no older than twenty-two sitting behind the yellow tape, and slipped under it while he frowned after me. Me, carry a grudge? Never. Shelly was more polite, she stopped and told the kid who we were then jogged to catch up with me.
         “Wow Jack, your diplomacy skills never cease to amaze.” she growled. I grunted in answer which set her off even more. “Look, you know we’re already the black sheep of the government at least attempt to make friends with the locals.” I dutifully kept my mouth shut and stopped at the elevators. I pushed the button and waited, feeling the building around me. I say feeling because I’m not your average Joe. I’m one of the many supernatural things shanghaied into the Bureau. When I say “supernatural things” most people immediately think fraud, con artist, and generally mistrust anyone claiming supernatural abilities. But I really can use psychic powers and general unexplained things.
         So, naturally I could sense and see things most regular people couldn’t dream of. I slowly extended my mind through the building. The first floor was clean and neat to the naked eye, but underneath, it was stained with sludge from drug exchanges, murders, gang wars, and everything else that underhandedly went on in the building. I pushed past the aura of the building and touched on the two uniforms and clerk in the back room talking, and then I touched on Shelly I couldn’t help but smile. Her power was a deep thrum that set off my warning bells even though she wasn’t actively doing anything. I reveled in her taste: mints, powders, something all together sweet with an undertone of spice. I never got tired of reading her aura.
         Shelly swatted me, gently, with her power and I moved up the building sensing each floor. The second and third floor were as normal as it got with a handful of people lounging in there apartments. The fourth floor was a different story entirely. At first it was pretty dull and bland until my sense touched on a room. The room was humid and hot like a sauna. It felt sticky to my sense and I pulled back frowning. Shelly waited patiently for me to get my bearings before guiding me into the open elevator.
         “Fourth floor,” I grumbled. I rubbed at my arms where phantom sensations played along my skin. We hit the floor and I hesitated. I knew something wrong had happened here. I could feel it downstairs and even now in the elevator I could feel the resonance of what happened further down the hall. I steeled myself and stepped out of the elevator willing myself to be calm. I stopped at the door just as a techie came barreling out of the room holding a fancy camera.
         “Jesus Walter watch where you’re going man! I almost plowed over you!” I barked. Walters jumped then scowled at me. Pete Walters was the resident Head Tech over at the NYPD and coincidentally my friend. I chucked him on the arm and smiled real big. Pete was 5’8, and far too tan for someone who worked in a hole most of the day, with sandy brown hair and smile to die for. He worked out regularly and you could tell, even through his jumpsuit. “Jack,” he said by way of greeting, “Shelly.” Shelly nodded at him and we both slipped on the little slippers to keep from tracking anything into the crime scene.
         Pete stood up after putting the camera in its case. “Alright, scene is yours I’ve got everything I need out of it.” I nodded and slipped in the door careful not to touch anything. The apartment was pretty standard: a one room, one bathroom, half dining room kitchen with a small nook for a living room. Pictures on the wall were of a pretty young blond with big green eyes, killer dimples and award winning smile. The T.V set in the corner of the living room droned with static. I checked the kitchen and found noodles burnt to the bottom of a pot obviously overcooked. I looked around the house and stopped dead at the girl’s room.
         Up until her room the house was particularly bland of any distinguishing emotions or “vibes”, but the girl’s door absolutely pulsed with energy. I took a cautious step back and sent my senses out to probe the door. I paused debating, then decided why not and shoved my sense into the door. It was a mistake. Suddenly I was flooded with a range of emotions: hate, love, lust, anger, pain. I stumbled and fell on my ass as images started flashing behind my closed eyes. I could see the girl alive and well, talking to a shadowy figure. She had been cooking for a date when the shadow showed up early. They had talked, drank champagne, and then drifted into her room. There they “talked” quite vigorously.
         I tore my mind away from the scene before anything else reared its ugly head. I swore quietly under my breath until I felt Shelly’s presence at my back. She touched my shoulder and I relaxed under the touch. She did more then lay her hand on me, she radiated calm that I sucked in like a drowning man just coming out of the water. I drank until I could breathe normally, and then tapped her hand to let her know I was okay.
         I wiped sweat off my upper lip and then threw up my mental shields so I could function in the next room. I gestured and Shelly opened the door for me. She shivered as she passed through the lingering wisps of psychic imprints. I barely noticed them through my shields and paused in the doorway. The room was…cute . The walls were a pastel pink with faux clouds painted on the ceiling in a complimenting lilac. The bed was another variation of pink and overall the room radiated “girly”.
The body didn’t. The blond was propped on the pillows, nude as the day she was born. Her face was set in the form of someone dreaming peacefully. A small smile touched her lips and she appeared like she was sleeping. The sleeping image was shattered by the slightly off coloring of her skin due to the two neat holes in her throat where something had drunk her blood. I stepped closer to the body taking mental notes, her stomach was slightly distended and her lips were slightly blue. Strangely the girl was free of all the normal scents of decomposition.
         Shelly was the first to touch and move the body. Her arms moved stiffly when Shelly looked for any marks of struggle. She didn’t find any, not that I was surprised. The girl was clueless from what I had glimpsed. Whatever had been with her had clouded her mind made her think and feel like she was in euphoria rather then chilling death.
         “Were they all propped up like this,” I asked. Shelly nodded and stood turning to leave. Her hand brushed the girls’ body slightly dislodging her and I glimpsed something. I frowned and shelly mirrored me. She followed my gaze then stepped back to the body to lift the girls left arm. I peered closer and I could feel my frown deepen. A small cut just on the inside of her torso leading straight to her heart. I moved to touch it when I felt the buzz of Power lingering over the cut. I froze just before touching the lingering energy and glanced up at shelly.
         “Don’t look at me,” she said. “I didn’t feel anything.” I shook my head. “I know the Power is focused on the cut,” I noted. Shelly sighed, “Here let me you might hurt yourself like with the door.” She pushed lightly and I moved, taking a couple small steps back. I watched as she settled down on her knees and concentrated. About a minute went by before she actually moved. Her hands hovered lightly over the cut and a small shimmer rose to meet them. She gasped and bowed her head as the Power coursed into her.
After thirty seconds or so the shimmer faded and shelly sighed heavily. I watched as she went through her mental exercises to calm herself before she looked back at me.
“Well,” I pressed.
She stood and gestured for me to follow. I did, frowning while she led me to the hallway where she leaned against the wall. “Well,” she finally said, “it wasn’t a spell that’s for sure.” I could feel my frown deepen, at this rate I would leave permanent lines on my face. “Okay, so what exactly was it,” I questioned. Shelly just shook her head and smiled grimly. I started getting a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Well Mr. Psychic if you have to know it’s a rote.” I stared at her as the bottom fell out of my stomach. “Only it felt wrong, cold, and I couldn’t figure out what it was meant to do,” she sighed.
Crap. This changed things. Rotes were to psychics like spells were to magic users. They were powers psychics implemented. Through force of will a psychic would cast a rote and have whatever he imagined come into reality. Most weren’t extremely powerful or even what you would call supernatural. Mostly they helped with luck, karma or chance those were the easiest rotes to cast otherwise you had to put more will into what you wanted. So the fact that the rote was powerful enough to be focused around the wound meant that whoever had attacked the girl had done it with a powerful psychic attack.
“Well I’ll be damned.” I growled under my breath. I sighed, a little relieved to be away from the girl, away from the death and lingering imprints coating the room. I shivered despite how warm the room was and then leaned against the wall with shelly. “This definitely changes things Shell.” I whispered.  I stood up and started pacing. “Who was she?” Shelly took out a little notepad and flipped it open, “her name was Kristin Belford, newly turned twenty two year old in her third year of college.” Something nagged at me. I tried to peg it down but my brain didn’t seem to be cooperating with me. I could feel a headache rising from thinking about what I was missing when Shelly broke my concentration. “She’s the exotic dancer up at Dante’s,” and suddenly I knew what I had been missing.
Dante’s was the hottest vampire club in Manhattan. It was the largest well known place regular vanilla folks could go to be close to a real live monster. What most people didn’t know was that for a little extra cash you could have one of those sexy monsters take a bite of you and or oblige in your darkest fantasies. It was also conveniently owned and run by Dante, and from what I knew about him he was a noble in the vampire clans, which meant I was now ankle deep in alligators and rapidly sinking. Not only was Dante head of Dante’s but also Prince of Manhattan and, consequently, one of the powers that be in the supernatural community.
         “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I moaned. “Dante won’t stand for one of his girls being poached, which means Kristin isn’t the last body we’ll be seeing.” I closed my eyes trying to focus my thoughts. “Well,” shelly interjected, “that means we need to pay the Prince a visit.” I shook my head and smiled, “Hail Caesar.”

Chapter 2
         Being a Prince doesn’t sound like such a big thing until you know what all it comes with. I mean who cares about Princes? It’s all about the Kings baby. The only problem is to be a King you had to be older then Christ (sometimes literally) and strong enough to control every single solitary vampire in your Clan. So being a Prince was the next best step a vampire could take. To be a Prince a vampire needed three things. First and foremost, he had to be strong enough to control all the other little vamps in his territory. Which doesn’t seem like such a big deal until your in a room with thirty or more predators strong enough to bench press a small sized house and sleeves full of mind tricks to play on you. The second was he had to be even sneakier and more manipulative then his fellow faith-challenged friends. Vampires in general were sneaky back stabbing manipulative creatures by nature and it suited their tastes to hunt a victim methodically while laughing at there confused prey. The last was that he had to Blood Bond all the baby vamps to him.
         A Blood Bond is a nifty trick. The Master Vampire has all his clan mates feed off him in order to gain mystical control over them. Consequently the Bond also came with the task of ruling and protecting said Blood Bonders. The bond gives the master complete control: mental, physical, and emotional. It also allows the master to read the thoughts and memories of any fang-head that had drunk from him, and I was counting on that very thing. I put on my hardest tough guy look as Shelly maneuvered Sheila into Dante’s parking lot. The lot was small, only a good twenty cars could fit. Since it was mid-afternoon the lot only boasted five cars total.          
         Shelly parked and we both go out. Where I had thrown on my hard-ass look shelly went with a more conventional cop face: eyes focused on everything and nothing and face completely neutral. We stepped through the front doors, Dante’s is for lack of a better term an “exotic” strip club. The whole lobby area was coated in dark red colors with undertones of black.  Twelve tables were arranged around a long runway with a circle outlet sporting a sleek silver stripper pole. The rest of the club was made up of the bar in the back and three booths.
         I had to give Dante props, the guy knew how to dress his employees. Most of the women could have qualified for the title of Sport Illustrated if they wanted to. The “outfits” they wore could barely be considered clothing. The shorts only went about an inch past they’re hips and the shirts all stopped well before their belly buttons. A busty young brunette with the name “Tracy” stenciled on her shirt bounced up to us. “Good evening sir and ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you that there won’t be any dances until sundown,” she smiled a Colgate smile and continued, “if you’d like I can reserve a table for you.” I bared my teeth in what could barely be considered a smile and answered, “Actually, Tracy, we’d like to speak to Dante.” Shelly stayed quiet keeping her cop face firmly in place and just stared at Tracy after a quick glance to get a good feel of her surroundings. Tracy’s smile faltered for a second, “I’m sorry sir but Mr. Dante won’t be awake for a couple more hours.”
         I let my smile fade and hardened my voice, “Look Tracy I know Dante and I know the Prince is up right now so I’ll see him now politely or you can spend money fixing structural damage.” Tracy’s eyes widened and I could visibly see her flounder trying to find out what to do or even say when a smooth voice with a slight French accent glided into the room, “Really Agent Spicer, there is no need to be brutish to my employees.” I turned towards the voice and glared at the Vampire Prince of Manhattan. Dante hadn’t been a tall man in life only reaching five foot three. His hair fell about him in a black mane that stretched to his back and framed his pale chest perfectly. He had a feminine look to him that was only ruined by the slight masculine spread of his shoulders. But the real killers were his eyes. His eyes were a deep gold with flecks of amber sprinkled gingerly throughout.
         I heard Shelly inhale sharply and turned to see her concentrate just to focus through his natural aura, Dante always had that affect on women. I grunted loudly making Shelly jump, then relax and fall back into her cop look. “Good evening your Highness, I need to talk to  you.” my tone took on a slightly insolent tone. “It warms my cold flesh to see that your skills in diplomacy have not advanced Agent Spicer.” Dante purred a little sliver power in his voice. I shivered a little. Dante was the strongest vampire in the city and no matter how pretty he looked he was a killer. He fed on humans to live his nigh-immortal existence and I just so happened to be human. I forced myself to remember that when I talked to Dante. 
         “Cut the dark knight mind crap and just take us somewhere we can talk,” I replied. Dante didn’t even so much as blink just smiled a little then gestured curtly for us to follow. I glanced back at Shelly who still looked a little shell shocked. “Hey there cowgirl you going to be able to handle this rodeo or should we pull up stakes and leave now?” I taunted. Shelly shook her head and then glared heatedly at me. I just smiled and squeezed her arm willing some calm to her. The glare went down by a few degrees before she pushed me off with a contemptuous, “Pig.”
         I turned back around to see Dante standing patiently near a nearly invisible door to the back rooms. I made sure to put some steel in my stride and walked with confidence. Vampires were like any predator: its all about how you present yourself. If you act like prey then you are if you act like another predator they leave you alone. I hoped Shelly looked as confident as me. I didn’t even dare turn my back on the vampire anymore then I already had.          
         We followed Dante into a long white hallway that sported four doors and ended with two rather large looking metal frame doors at the end of the hallway. Dante took us to the second door on the left which opened into a large windowless office. The office was bigger then most apartments and came with a large oak desk. The room was bare except for four lamps placed at each of the four corners. The only thing that gave the room any kind of life was a painting set right above the desk. The picture was of a dark angel reaching for the gate of heaven. It took me a second of staring at the painting trying to figure out what it was about it that caught my attention, when I realized Dante was the dark angel. Ick! Some painters have no taste. Dante glided to the desk, like he always did and placed himself firmly in the seat. “Well Agent Spicer what is it you wanted to speak to me about,” he purred.
         I rolled my eyes turned my head towards Shelly and arched an eyebrow. She gave a little ‘go ahead’ gesture and settled into the corner where she could keep an eye on the vampire and surprise anyone who came through the door. I turned back to the Prince and asked, “What happened to Kristin Belford,” with all the subtly of a five year old. A second went by without a sound and Dante did something I had never seen him do before. He blinked. If I hadn’t been making it a point to dead stare at him (no pun intended) I might not have noticed. The vampire recovered and then smiled. “Of all the things I thought you would say, that was not what I had been expecting.” He sighed, “Last night she worked until around two in the morning and then left with one of the other girls.” He stood up and examined the picture before continuing. “She was one of my blood donors you see,” a tinge of anger colored his next words, “you have my word Spicer that I do not know what happened to Kristin.” The words ‘but I’ll find out’ went unsaid and I didn’t push.
         Dante wasn’t exactly my friend but I could tell by the stiffness in his shoulders and the tone of his voice that he didn’t know anymore and wouldn’t tell me if he did. I stared at the back of the vampire before turning around and gesturing for Shelly to follow me. I stopped and said back to the Prince, “Dante  you should let the authorities handle this.” I took a deep breath then said, “ I promise you I’ll do what I can to find and punish whoever did this.” Dante didn’t reply just waved us off. I closed the door and stared thoughtfully at it. I put a little will into my thoughts and sent them to Shelly. “Was it me or was he playing on the mourning vampire a little hard?” “You thought that to?” Shelly’s thoughts reached me a second later. I shook my head and headed towards the door back to the club.
I stopped when a flash of cold caught my attention. Shelly stepped past me and stopped a heartbeat later frowning at the air. She looked back at me and without a word we both pulled out our guns. When things get hairy, sure, being able to throw a fireball is nifty, but human technology can get the job done just fine. I raised my right hand trying to sense what I had inadvertently gleaned. The cold emanated from the first door on the right. I nodded my head at the door and Shelly took up a kick stance. I counted to three silently on my right hand. When I reached zero Shelly kicked the door open. The door swung open on the first kick. I rushed in and gasped in shock when the room I had been expecting turned out to be a staircase and I was force grab wildly before my hand brushed a handrail. I looked back to see Shelly fighting off a  smile. I glowered at her then turned straightened up and headed down the stairs following the sense of cold.
As we descended down the staircase the steps abruptly lengthened to three feet long steps. I licked my lips nervously and kept going ignoring images of a Thrall coming around an unseen corner opening fire and tearing me apart. Shelly’s quiet steps reassure me and we reached the bottom of the stairs without my imagination coming true. The stair case opened up to a large room carved out of the ground. The room didn’t have doors just holes dug out leading to separate rooms. Lights lined the ceiling barely illuminating the cavern. My spidey senses went on overdrive and I suddenly got the impression that it was a bad idea being down here. I turned around to whisper to Shelly. It saved our lives.
A creature humanoid in shape wearing no clothes lay poised on the wall. Large bat shaped ears curved back from a contorted human sized version of a bat head. It hissed the moment I saw it. It’s large knobby shoulders abruptly flexed revealing unseen muscles and lunged directly at Shelly’s back. Shelly noticed my wide eyes and ducked to the side as I brought up my gun and the creature landed right where she had been. The moment I knew Shelly was out of my line of fire I took aim and put three bullets in the vampire. Normal cops used hydra-shock hollow point bullets, which were mainly for stopping power. I however used my own recipe called Black Talons, bullets designed to go through whatever it hit. The bullets tore through the creature’s chest in a tight triangle spraying the wall and staircase with browning blood and chunks of muscle and flesh.
I might as well been shooting spit wads at the thing for how much good it did me. The creature howled in anger and, well, hit didn’t seem strong enough a verb so I upgraded it to pummel, he was going to pummel me in one hit. I screamed a challenge purely out of manliness and not out of fear and fell backwards the punch missing me by a hairs breadth. I managed to roll as I hit the ground and came up in a low crouch. I brought my gun up and aimed at the one thing I knew would drop the vampire thing. The creature abruptly stilled muscles coiling like a snake and then it was airborne coming straight for me. I waited, timing the jump then put two rounds neatly through each kneecap. The creature misjudged the distance landing a mere foot away from me and as its weight settled on its legs the shattered kneecaps collapsed all together throwing the creature into an uncontrolled slide. I jumped as the thing slid past me slashing wildly.
  Shelly waited until I was out of the kill zone and then she brought her hands to bear on the creature and snarled, “Hand of Pyro!” Balls of green-blue flame engulfed her hands then both simultaneously shot towards the creature. Whatever the thing was it was smart, it dug claws into the rock floor and then used only upper body strength to shoot itself ten feet away from the fireballs. However fast the creature was Shelly’s spell was a bit faster, one ball missed entirely splashing a gout of fire in a five foot circle. The other tore neatly through one leg cauterizing the wound closed and burst into flames setting the creatures other broken leg ablaze. After all that, the creature still kept coming snarling and keening at the same time.
A loud battle cry suddenly overpowered the creature’s snarl, and then a half naked man carrying an honest-to-god broadsword appeared from one of the maze of tunnels. The man’s, no vampires I noted dimly, eyes glowed with azure fire as it lifted the broadsword one handed and with contemptuous ease decapitated the creatures head from its body. Then, with a detached cool reserve, shoved one hand into the creature’s chest and ripped out its heart. It happened so fast I barely had time to blink let alone think about what was happening. A second later the vampire scoffed and began devouring the creature’s heart.
I was still in shock when shelly exclaimed, “What in the name of Hecate was that!” The man, now that I had time to notice, was made of solid muscle and marble like skin. His eyes, now just a deep blue, still held a hint of glow to them, his blond hair was set in a tight braid leading down to his waist. After another second the glow faded and he answered, “A hemophage dear lady.” his voice held a faint British accent and was a deep rumble that you felt more then heard. A few moments later a small crowd emerged from the tunnels and Dante himself came gliding down the stairs.
“My lord, another bloodling dug into the Tunnels, lucky for us these two were here to delay it whilst I prepared for battle,” the Viking supplied before Dante could even ask. “Oh it was no problem we didn’t have anything else to do,” I muttered. Dante scowled at me then the hemophage and finally on the blond vampire. “Well Agent Spicer, Agent Fields, it seems I owe you a thanks. Without you here the bloodling would have most likely killed a number of my clan.” Dante said. Shelly overrode me before I could make a smartass remark, “Actually, if it wasn’t for this man here we would probably be in a worse way.” A.k.a. dead or dying.   
  The vampire blinked then comprehension dawned on him, “Forgive my rudeness,” he rumbled, “I am Lord Byron second-in-command to Prince Dante of the Nefandi clan.” He did a polite bow that shelly and I returned in kind, only not so deep. I glanced at shelly and grimaced when she swayed slightly from just bowing. I could only hope the wondrous monsters hadn’t noticed her apparent weakness. Dante was all cute and nice but when things got down to the core he was a ruthless Master Vampire, Prince to Manhattan and you did not show weakness.
The weight of eyes forced me to look back at the monsters. The majority of the vampires were staring at Shelly with glowing eyes. I resisted the urge to gulp, grabbed Shelly’s arm and with a rushed, “Well it was nice meeting you all but we’ve got big police work to do.” skedaddled. I made it a point to walk backwards until we hit the staircase then rushed shelly up them with only a minimal amount of complaint. I checked behind me to see Dante standing at the bottom of the stairs eyes glowing with gold fire, a small smile playing on his face. With that bit of creepy incentive I kicked it up to mach two and we were out of the club before you could say abracadabra.
Once I felt comfortable and relaxed enough not to jump at the slightest sound I leaned against the car and basked in the sun as it peaked through a quickly disappearing hole in the cloud cover. I shuddered and started shaking as the adrenaline drained out of me. When I felt confident enough I stood up straight and studied Shelly. Dark blotches under eyes made me wince and she suddenly looked emaciated, starved, and hollow. Magic had that effect on a caster. I shook my head, “Shell what were you thinking we could have taken the hemophage without powers.” Shelly glared at me, “Don’t lecture me Jack you and I both know that thing would have ripped us apart if not for my magic.” I stared at her thinking through my words.
Magic was more then just willpower come to life. Magic was a field of energy that permeated this world then next hell even other dimensions. It’s the fire of creation and it has two bad side effects. It’s addictive and the human body wasn’t conditioned to handle magic. That’s why shell looked like a starving Ethiopian child. The magic was literally lashing out at her because she couldn’t conduct it properly. So, normally she would invoke a god or spirit using them as the conductor and her body as the focus. The only problem was that Shelly tended to skip the invoking and just evoked using her body as conductor and focus.
For all my talk though I was really worried. She had only done two spells normally she could fling spells left and right and just get fatigued a little. She shouldn’t have been this drained. “Shell what happened back there,” I asked softly. She stared daggers at me. “Nothing I’m in control and I’m fine,” she snapped. Something in me snapped and for a second I thought I’d hit her until my arms wrapped around her in a fierce hug. Shelly went rigid for a second then softened and a second later I felt her jerk several times. I held my friend while she cried silently and felt utterly lost. After a few moments I realized she was speaking under her breath, “I can’t do this, the magic it’s controlling me, the monsters, and the death I can’t do this Jack I can’t.”
“Shell listen to me,” I gently pulled her face up to mine, “I know you and your one of the strongest witches I know and the most talented woman to boot.” “And above all you are in control of yourself and you know that no matter what I’m there with you through thick and thin.” She stared at me with a strange expression that I couldn’t decipher then she hit my on the shoulder breaking the moment. “Gee I break down a little and you go all soft on me Spice,” she half-heartedly joked. “Come on we’ve got a job to do.” She walked around the car hopped in and a moment later loud music droned from the inside. I hopped in and forced a smile on my face. Sometimes your friends need the truth, other times you just keep quiet, and times like now you listen add your two cents and then shut up and gave them all the support you could however  you can.

Chapter 3     
© Copyright 2008 Tye (tye-bo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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