Blood Legacy: Adult Urban Fantasy (The V V Inn Book 5) (16 page)

“That’s the extent your ward can register?”

“Think of it as an early detection system for possible threats. It’s not foolproof and not as advantageous as a closed circuit camera system. But those can be tampered with and a spell can’t.” The young man shrugs. “It’s got its uses.”

“Agreed,” Rafe says. “Especially if you only need a warning and can send out sentries to investigate.”

“Which is what their protocols called for. I did my job,” he says, a touch of defensiveness in his tone.
 

“Justin,” I say, deciding to go with my gut. “What can you tell us about the magical imbalance that’s created when a wizard does magic?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Rafe

A cagey look crosses Justin’s face. “Where’d you hear about that?”

“We have a witch who lives on our property in Alaska,” Dria continues. “She told Jon a little of the basics that define witch magic versus wizard magic.”

“The difference is slight, no matter what the witches would have you believe. They were born with a gift, we were smart enough to harness it even without their advantage. The imbalance you mention—it doesn’t exist if you perform the ritual directions correctly with an acceptable offset.
 

“We like to think of it as paying tribute to the magic. For every spell, there is a price to even out the natural imbalance the use of the magic leaves behind. The best ‘payment,’ if you will, is the wizard’s own blood.
 

“Witches act like the use of our blood as payment makes our magic dark or evil, but that’s not the case—and I’ve seen a few witchy hypocrites using their own blood on a spell, too.

“Magic is inherent in the world around us—it’s not defined as good or evil. It just is. How someone uses it is what defines the magic as safe or dangerous.”

Dria’s brow furrows in thought. “Do all wizards use their own blood in spells? Or can they use someone else’s?”

“I know of a few practitioners who use animal blood—from a butcher, not an animal sacrifice,” he hastily adds. “I haven’t heard of any imbalance issues with the substitution. The wizard usually infuses the blood offering with herbs and other additions to make it a more ‘worthy’ payment. But I— and I learned this from the wizard I trained under—stick to using my own blood. It’s always on hand, and I never run out.” He adds the last with a grin.

“These other wizards you mention, who use animal blood, could they be attempting more powerful spells that require a higher payment—and the animal blood isn’t enough?”

Justin shakes his head. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. I haven’t heard of any wizard who created an imbalance they didn’t fix. It’s been drilled into us so much I doubt anyone would make the slip.”

“You said ‘they didn’t fix,’” Dria says. “What does that imply? They could feel the imbalance?”

“Well, yeah, unless they’ve been knocked out or something. I don’t know how they could not feel it.”

I think back to the tingling sensation Dria and I have both felt in the presence of a spell activating. I wonder if that’s what he means or if it’s something greater.

“Have you ever sensed an imbalance after a spell?” I ask.

“Nope. Never.”

“Then how do you know it can be easily felt?”

Justin shakes his head, his shoulders slumping. “That’s a very good point. If I haven’t felt it, I have no idea how subtle or powerful the sensation is. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“Can you give us the names of the wizards who use animal blood? Maybe we can start there with asking if they’ve had any issues with spells lately.”

Jon sets his plate aside, the ceramic clean. “How many wizards in the city are for hire? I never would have thought there’d be so many we’d need to make a list.”

Justin puffs up, pride for his craft showing. “Hey, magic is big for protecting what you want to keep safe. All the supes in the city hire us. We don’t have a guild or anything like that, but we each have specialties and refer business out to others if it’s a field we’re not as experienced with. Like me—I work primarily for specialized client needs. The vamps. Not really a magical specialty, per se, but they are a persnickety bunch. I’m not the only one they hire, especially with all the vamps here in the Seat of Darkness. But others work for weres, shifters, the occasional human, even witches.”

“Why would a witch hire you?” Dria asks. “Can’t they do it on their own?”

That arrogant grin is back again. “Not every witch can master every aspect of elemental magic. And some of the really old ones refuse to teach a witch not born with their same affinity, like if they specialize in earth magic they might not teach what they know to another witch who is better with fire. On the whole, they can be a catty bunch.
 

“A wizard doesn’t have that issue. We’re only limited by the knowledge we possess. Occasionally an air witch will hire a wizard more proficient in water magic to get a specific job done. But I’ll be honest, they don’t hire us much as they can normally find an expert in another element right in their own coven.”

Dria sits on the couch, near the wizard’s chair. “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘never turn a witch’?”

The young wizard contemplates her question before answering. “No—what’s it mean? Never turn them into a… what, a frog?” He shakes his head. “That doesn’t seem very clear.”

“Never mind, just wondered. Could a witch call up these ancient creatures—the invunche and the hombre gato?”

“I don’t know. But if a wizard could, I bet they could, too. On the whole, they don’t really like to share knowledge with us—like I said, too many think the use of magic by people not born with the gift is ‘bad,’ and that’s a crock of shit.”

“Well, a witch was the first victim. Maybe we should try and talk to the local coven.”

“
The
local coven?” the wizard says with raised eyebrows. “Try the half-dozen local covens. This city is a hot bed for the supernatural.”

“If that’s the case, then why are we surprised creatures are appearing out of thin air and killing people?”

“Whoa now—did you say the invunche you saw came out of thin air? That sounds very odd. Not like he came through via thinning of the barrier, near where the imbalanced spell was worked. The legend said the invunche were guards to a wizard’s cave. Maybe since we’re not in caves anymore the creature hides near the wizard’s home? Like in alleys and doorways. Where did you guys say you found it?”

“In an alley, off of Nine de Julio Avenue.”

“Hmm… I know a wizard who lives in that area. I wouldn’t think he’d create an invunche to protect his spell lab, but anything is possible.”

Jon raises a hand to halt the conversation. “Am I the only one who doesn’t know what the hell he means by ‘thinning of the barrier’?”

“It refers to the imbalance we spoke of before. If the imbalance is not corrected, then the barrier between our world and ‘beyond’ is thin, allowing whatever’s on the other side to pass into our world.”

“What’s in the ‘beyond’?” Jon asks.

Justin shrugs. “I don’t even know if that part is true. It’s just something I remember from my training. We’ve already established I’ve never felt an imbalance when I’ve worked a spell, so maybe I’m not the best person you should be talking to.”

“Give us the name of the wizard who works near Nine de Julio.”

He snorts. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. So you can charge over there and question the guy? It
may
be him—there’s no certainty, and I sure as hell won’t be the whistleblower that got the guy in hot water for no reason.”

“All right then, let’s try a different track. Is he the same one you know who uses animal blood in his rituals for payment?”

“No, he isn’t. That’s Bart, short for Bartholomew. He’s older than me. Not sure by how much. He knew my mother.”

“Your mom? She’s a wizard, too?”

“Was. She got me started on the path when we moved here from the States, taught me most of what I know. She died six years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. Is it common for wizards to pass on knowledge to family members?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Can’t vouch for what others do, only what my mom did. She was a practicing Wiccan for years. But only when we moved here did she get involved with strong magic. Before that, she’d created a few herbal potions and tinctures, not ‘real’ magic, if you know what I mean. Once she discovered how to control real magic, through intricate rituals and payment of blood, she was like a sponge, absorbing everything she came into contact with on the subject.”

“And how did she die?” Dria asks, concern in her voice. “She couldn’t have been too old.”

“She wasn’t. We think a spell backfired. Officially the police ruled it as a kitchen fire.”

“How horrible! Was she your only family?”

“In the area, yes. I haven’t seen my brothers or father for almost two decades.” He shrugs, clearly accepting of the loss after so many years. “Wouldn’t even know where to start looking for them.”

“Where does Bart live? We’d like to talk to him about his magic and see if there’s even a slight imbalance when he casts.”

After much back and forth, reassuring him we weren’t going in to kill the old guy, Justin finally gives us both addresses—Bart’s and the one to the wizard who lives near where we saw the invunche.

My wife raises another topic before we leave. “One last thing—we want to hire you.”

Surprise crosses the wizard’s face. “Me? Why?”

“You can make a tracking spell, right?”

“Yes, practically in my sleep. Who do you need to track?”

“Do you really need to ask? The same person we asked you to arrange a meeting with: Rolando. Rafe hasn’t seen him enter or leave the Tribunal in the past weeks and we need to find him.”

“Do I want to know what you’ll do to him when you find him?”

Dria’s face shuts down. “No. You don’t.”

Justin sighs. “Normally I wouldn’t take a job like this. I find it much safer to stay out of personal vampire feuds. But…” he drags the word out. “I owe you after the shit Coraline pulled with using me to abduct you. Don’t tell anyone in the Tribunal I did this for you, okay? I’d rather not piss off my best client.”

She nods once, agreeing to his request. “How much?”

“Would you consider an ounce of blood?”

“Whose?”

“Yours.”

“Done.” She extends her hand for a shake. No doubt or hesitancy when she agrees. “I’ll give you the ounce when we find Rolando.”

“Fair enough. Give me your cell number. I’ll get started on the spell and call you when it’s ready.”

We travel to Bartholomew’s and stand silently on the empty street for a few minutes. Before we left, Justin gave a final suggestion to try listening near the older wizard’s home, using the same senses that ‘heard’ his ward spells near the Tribunal. It’s a stretch and we aren’t sure the idea has any merit, but Dria did sense the invunche before we saw it, so we give it a shot.

All three of us stand on the sidewalk, looking like we’re waiting for a sign from God. It’s days like this I wonder what the hell we’re doing with our lives.

When we finally ring the man’s doorbell, it’s near midnight, and I think we’re all a little frazzled. Probably me the most. A short, stout, wrinkled man opens the door. Thick glasses perch on the end of his nose, and he’s wearing mismatched clothes with clashing patterns. I’d say he reminded me of Mr. Magoo, but he has a more important air about him, despite his shabby appearance.

Before any of us can say hello to the round little fellow, a laugh bubbles up my chest and spills out. Dria shoots me a glare, and Jon raises an eyebrow while I stifle my amusement at looming over the frail old man.

“Can I help you?” the man asks in a heavily accented voice, a loud sniff of insult aimed my way. He sounds like he could have lived or grown up in Russia or one of the newer Slavic nations.

“Are you Bartholomew?” my wife asks him.

“Yes. Bart for short. What’s this about? Are you looking to hire?”

Quick on her toes, my wife replies. “Yes, we are. We’d like to ask you a few questions first, may we come in?”

“You think I’m inviting a vampire, a werewolf, and a rude, large human into my home who I don’t know? You’ve got another think coming.”

This time Jon laughs. Glad it’s not just me having a hard time keeping it together.
 

“Dude,” he nudges me. “He called you rude and large. Nailed it in one!”

I resist the urge to shove Jon. It’s difficult, but I manage.
 

Dria extends her hand in greeting. “I apologize for the intrusion and any fear our appearance may be causing. We’ve been referred to you by a wizard named Justin, who has done extensive work for the Tribunal of Ancients.” The older man takes her hand and shakes. “We came by to ask for your expert advice on ritual magic, blood payment, and a possible magic imbalance from various causes.”

Bart looks up and down the street, a nervous look on his face. “So, no job, eh? Come in, come in.” He stands aside and ushers us in. “I try not to talk about this kind of stuff within earshot of a neighbor. Wouldn’t want to give them a reason to hate me even more. Even though it is late enough that most of them are asleep. ”

We enter his cramped dwelling, making me wish immediately we were back outside in the clear night air. Choking incense fills the small cluttered space. I feel like a bull in a china shop, one wrong move and I’ll knock over a glass jar or run into a piece of furniture. Bookshelves and flat surfaces full of items covered in dust make my nose twitch worse than the overpowering odor.

Jon sneezes. “Man, that’s a lot of patchouli you’ve got going on in here.”

The small man doesn’t respond, but rushes past us to another room deeper in. “Come in, come in. The kitchen is where I prefer to do business.”

We follow him to a room that doesn’t look like it’s in the same house—bright, airy, open, organized, and the air smells clean and odor free. If I hadn’t walked the short distance myself, I’d swear it was two different homes.
 

“The front room is a decoy, isn’t it?” Dria asks. “Nice illusion.”

Bart nods and climbs up onto a high stool next to the kitchen island. “It works wonders at helping to preserve the doddering old-man persona. Most guests leave within a few minutes, overwhelmed by the clutter and stink.”