Warlock For Hire: Arcane Inc. Book 1 Read online

  “Come on, dear,” the wife said. She stood up and tugged at his elbow. “It’s not worth it.”

  “Something seriously went wrong with your generation,” the man said as his wife led him away.

  “Well, it was your generation that raised us,” I said and gave him a wink.

  Once they were gone I sat down where the man had been sitting and pushed their plates to the edge of the table. A minute later one of Bobby’s girls arrived with my tea.

  “Bobby said if you scare any more of his punters off he’ll make you cover his lost earnings,” she said, placing the cup in front of me.

  “Did he say it with extra grumpiness?” I asked, smiling at her. I don’t smile often, but she was worth it. Trust me.

  “No, just his usual amount,” she said, returning my smile.

  “Good old, Bobby,” I said cheerily. I picked up my tea and took a casual sip, trying to look cool. Mistake. It was scolding hot. I let out a small cry of pain and hot tea poured out over my chin. The barmaid snorted and then walked off with the dirty plates.

  It didn’t take long for Shay to arrive. He was shorter than I expected, below average height for a man. I’d say five foot six, give or take. He wasn’t a looker. His face looked like somebody had tried to melt it when he was younger and he’d had to live with the effects ever since. His hair was dark and a sorry excuse for a beard was clinging to his chin. It looked like somebody had superglued some loose pubes to his face. To summarise, he was a short man who looked in serious need of a wash.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked, wanting to get his money and be done with him as quickly as possible. Unless he was here to buy something big I was going to have to do a lot more marketing. Sixty quid and whatever he paid was not going to get me through the week, and there was next to nothing in the safe at home; I’d given most of my cash to Doris this morning.

  He looked around shiftily, as if he was at a drug deal, then back at me. “I need magic,” he whispered.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You’re a warlock. I need you to steal me some magic. Loads of it,” he said.

  Let’s stop for a minute. I am not an upstanding member of the community. Pretty much any magical service can be purchased from me for the right place. I’m no saint, but I’m not the devil either. There is one thing that I refuse to do: provide magic for others. There’s a reason that warlocks have a bad rep. Because magic is addictive. Once someone gets their first hit they’ll keep looking for more, and once they’ve already got some magic, it’s far easier to get more. All they need is the warlock ritual and a way to track down sorcerers. The more they use magic the more they rely on it and the more they want. They keep looking for that feeling of exhilaration that comes from harvesting magic, and it is very hard to stop. I do not want to be responsible for creating any more warlocks than there already are. The world is nasty enough. You might be thinking that I’m being harsh, branding all warlocks as villains, but hear me out. Unless you’re me, which only I am, there’s only one way to get magic. You steal it by killing a sorcerer. So the one act that makes you a warlock also makes you a bad guy. Therefore, all warlocks are bad guys. Except for me. Now, back to Shay.

  “Sorry buddy, I don’t do that,” I replied. I picked up the newspaper that I’d been pretending to read before and pretended to read it again. As far as I was concerned the meeting was over.

  “I’m sure you will for the right price,” he said. I ignored him. The meeting was over. One undersized hand appeared at the top of my newspaper and tore it from my grip. Shay threw it to the end of the table and leaned towards me. “I’m talking to you. How much?”

  I leaned forward and spoke slowly. Being sure to enunciate each word carefully. “I. Don’t. Sell. Magic.”

  “I’ll give you five-hundred,” he said.

  Now, you’re probably expecting me to change my tune now. Take the money. You’ve got me all wrong. When I set myself a rule, a standard, I uphold it. Shay was not the first person to make me an offer for this particular service. I’d been offered more money by plenty of people before. One chap offered me ten grand. My answer was the same. No. I’ve seen the work of warlocks and it’s not pretty. There’s a town not far from Maidstone, it’s called Cedarstone. A whole gang of warlocks turned up there once and the results were not pretty. The death count was pretty impressive, though. Almost an entire coven wiped out in just a few short months, and it wasn’t a small coven. So no, I will not have any part in creating warlocks. Besides, once I’ve given them their first taste of magic what’s to stop them from killing me and taking mine?

  “No,” I said more firmly. I could see he wasn’t going to give up.

  “A grand,” he said. He reached into his inside pocket, probably to show me the money. They always did that. As if the sight of money would sway me. It’s actually not a bad tactic, and if it was anything else it would work. But not this. There’s no bending this rule. I grabbed his arm and stopped him from getting the money.

  “Mate, it’s not happening. Nothing you do will change my mind,” I said, as forcefully as I could. Trying to drive the message home. He pulled his arm free and carried on going into his pocket. He didn’t pull out money, though, he pulled out a six-inch knife. I shouldn’t have been surprised; he looked the sort.

  “Either you give me magic or I’ll bury this in your belly,” he threatened, pointing the blade at me. Big mistake. I saw a security guard step out of the shadows. He didn’t approach. Not yet. He wanted to see if I could handle it.

  “Alright, alright,” I said, holding my hands up in submission. I reached into my own jacket and pulled out a small phial. “This is some magic I acquired this morning,” I lied. The idiot’s eyes lit up. I placed the phial in the centre of the table. “Drink that and the magic’s yours. And then you’ll let me go right?” I added the last bit for extra effect. If he didn’t believe that I was scared then he wouldn’t believe that I was giving him what he wanted.

  “Yeah,” he said eagerly and snatched the vial up. He flicked the lid off and tipped the contents down his gullet. What I’d given him, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, was not Ashley’s magic. It was an elixir I’d brewed a couple of days ago but had not yet tested. He provided the perfect opportunity. “I don’t feel anything,” he said.

  “No, I lied. It wasn’t really magic,” I said.

  “What was it?”

  “Rat’s piss,” I said. His snatched the knife up and his hand came at me. “Stop!” I said quickly. He stopped at once. Hand extended towards me. “Oh, it’s perfect,” I said wondrously.

  “What have you done to me?” he demanded, still not moving.

  “I lied again. It’s not rat’s piss. You are the unwitting guinea pig for a new creation of mine. It’s a formula that is designed to give me control of your mind. It seems to be working,” I informed him. “Now, I don’t know how long this will last so I’ll be quick. You will never come to me for my services ever again. You will never set foot in this pub again. I never want to see your horrid little face. Ever. Do you understand?”

  He nodded. “Yes.” I could see him trying desperately to move, but the potion wouldn’t allow it. His arm was shaking visibly, but that was all the movement he could muster.

  “Now. I’m not sure the effects will last forever, so I’m going to need to create a deterrent.” I looked at the knife in his hand. I didn’t need to think about it. “Stab yourself in the leg. And don’t scream.” He followed my instructions immediately, like a trained dog. He thrust the knife down under the table and his whole body jerked. His eyes widened in pain and he let out a strangled whimper, but he did not scream.

  “Good,” I said, nodding. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying his suffering at least a little. “Now, do it again,” I commanded His eyes begged for mercy, but he said nothing. The knife came up and went straight back down. His whole face was red, almost purple, and wet with tears. He was hunched over, entire body shaking from the
pain. He raised his eyes to meet mine and what he saw in my expression destroyed any hope he had that it was over. “Again.” He did it again and again and again. With each stab, I drew a little more satisfaction. “Alright, good, you can stop now.” I heard the knife clatter to the floor. His face was no longer red, but white from blood loss. He was close to fainting. “Alright, Shay. Get the fuck out of here and remember not to come back you slimy little fuck.” I didn’t need to tell him twice. He scampered to his feet and then hobbled out of the pub before I could call him back for another round of torture. So there you have it. That was that darkness I warned you about. That nastiness that lingers inside me. The reason I don’t allow myself to gather too much power. I can’t trust myself not to cross that line for good. I’d enjoy it too much and there’d be no coming back.

  I looked up and saw Bobby over by the stairs shaking his head at me, his hands on his hips.

  “You’re paying to clean the blood up,” he called over and then walked away.

  “Shit,” I muttered. I really needed to earn some cash now.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Over the next few days, I managed to do a few jobs to earn just enough to pay Bobby’s carpet cleaning bill and give me a little bit to live off. At least for another week. I checked the local newspaper and had already ordered tickets for some upcoming medium shows. I spent a lot of time in my storage unit working on my formula. Now that I knew the mind control elixir worked I needed to devise an immunity for myself. I couldn’t risk somebody using it against me. I created a few new batches in order to test out the immunity formula when I concocted it. In the meantime, I needed to think of a name for it. Mind Control elixir just didn’t have a great ring to it. Concoction of Compulsion? Simon Says Serum? Puppet Potion? No, none of those? I’ll work on it. Anyway, back to the story.

  I woke up on Sunday morning to find a new voicemail from Ashley Sheridan. She’s the one who paid me to take her magic in case you’d forgotten. She wanted to meet again. She wanted her magic back. To say I was intrigued would be an understatement. That girl had me fascinated from the beginning and another meeting was not something I was going to pass up. I went to my storage unit, retrieved her powers—see, inscribing the names on the boxes was a good idea—and headed straight to Muggs.

  When I got to Muggs, Ashley was already there. She was sitting in my booth waiting for me. It was rare when the client got there before me, but it did happen on occasion. I didn’t like it. I was supposed to arrive first. When the client got there first I considered it a violation. On account of who it was and how fascinated I was by her, I decided to let it slide just this once. She was just as stunning as I remembered her being but even more distraught. Maybe distraught is the wrong word. She was more frightened than she’d looked last time. She had heavy bags under her pretty green eyes where she clearly hadn’t been sleeping very well.

  “Hello again,” I said, sliding into the booth.

  “Do you have it?” she asked. Straight to the point. It looked like I still wasn’t going to get any answers from her. Or even a hello.

  “No small talk with you is there?” I said. I pulled the box containing her magic out of my satchel and placed it between us on the table.

  “I’ve never seen magic before. Out of a person I mean,” she said, staring with keen fascination at the box. Maybe I was going to get somewhere with her, she seemed to be opening up to a conversation.

  “I know what you mean. It is a pretty unique sight. It is the first time you see it anyway.” I, of course, had seen it more times than I could count. “So, why the change of heart?”

  “It’s personal,” she said, closing up again. “Do I just open it?”

  “You can try, but those boxes don’t have lids,” I told her. She reached for the box, but I pulled it away from her with a little magic. “It’s not quite that simple, love. You paid me to take that. If you want it back you’ll have to pay me again.”

  She looked at me with such reprehension. “How much?” she snarled.

  “Double what you paid to take it. One-hundred and twenty quid,” I said. It seemed wrong to ask her for money when she was clearly going through a hard time, but like I said before, I’m not a charity.

  She yanked her purse open and started counting money. She leafed out the required notes and threw them down on the table. I picked them up gingerly, counted them to my own satisfaction and then tucked them away in my breast pocket. “Alright. Place your palms either side of the box and concentrate on reabsorbing your magic.” She did as I instructed. “It can take a little time to get I—” I stopped talking when I saw the light flicker and vanish as she took back her powers. I’d only seen it done a couple of times and never so easily. She was gifted. Which led me to wonder yet again why she’d wanted to give them up in the first place.

  “We’re done. Hopefully, I won’t need to phone you again,” she said, getting up.

  “Oh, come on! You’re not really going to leave without giving me at least one answer?” I said. But apparently she was. She didn’t even look back as she walked out of the pub.

  I made a spur of the moment decision right then to find the answers I so desperately craved. I’m a nosey fucker. Get used to it. I slung my satchel over my head and followed Ashley out of the pub. I made sure to keep a few people between us as I followed her through town. I needn’t have bothered keeping my distance; she was so lost in her own world, she wouldn’t have noticed a fire starting right next to her. Something big was on her mind. And now it was on my mind. What drove a person to give up their magic only to then ask for it back three days later? It didn’t make sense and I hate things that don’t make sense. When I encounter things that don’t make sense I cannot get them out of my head until I have made them make sense. There was something that I couldn’t figure out a couple of years ago no matter how hard I tried. I had to resort to whipping up a potion to make me forget about it. I’d tell you what it was but obviously, I can’t remember.

  Ashley got about half way down Week Street before taking a phone call and then turning back. I ducked into the card shop on my left to avoid being seen, and once she passed me I resumed tailing her. She led me to Kings Street where she entered the Costa coffee shop. I’d have to be more careful inside; it wasn’t busy yet so she’d be able to see me almost wherever I sat. I closed my eyes and drew on a little magic to mask my identity. I couldn’t completely change my form, I didn’t have the power for that, but unless she got right up in my face she wouldn’t recognise me. I’d look like a random stranger to her. She went straight over to a table behind a pillar towards the back of the shop. There was already somebody sitting there. A big man who was built like a bodyguard. Cropped brown hair, and a plain suit. He looked up from his phone when she sat down. He didn’t smile. They weren’t friends. I ordered a tea and told the barista to bring it over to me. He wasn’t happy about it, but I couldn’t risk missing anything by waiting. Conveniently, there was another table on the other side of the pillar. I sat there and listened. I’d already missed the start of the conversation so I’d have to pay extra attention to catch up.

  “Give me a demonstration,” the man said quietly. His voice was low and gravelly, like a wannabe Batman.

  “Here? In Costa?” Ashley said. She was agitated. There was more fear in her voice now than when she’d been speaking to me. Was this guy responsible for her frightened demeanour? What had he done to her? I wasn’t just curious now, I was also angry at whatever this man had done to make her so scared.

  “Yes,” the man told her simply.

  “Someone will see.”

  “There’s hardly anybody in here. And even if they see a little magic they’ll just put it down to a trick of their eyes. A lapse in concentration. Magic will be the last thing they suspect,” he said. He was right. I’d accidentally done magic in front of loads of regular people and not once had anybody called me out on it. They were always far happier to accuse their own brain of trying to trick them rather than just t
rusting their eyes. Stupid really. That sums up most people. Stupid. See, I warned you I’d insult you again.

  “Fine,” Ashley muttered. A brief silence followed in which I assumed she was doing magic. Then the bloke spoke again. Ha! I rhymed. Sorry, back to the story.

  “Very good. Mister Myers will pleased. He will remain pleased if you do not do anything that puts his plans in jeopardy again,” the man said.

  “I don’t care if he’s pleased. Or if his plans are in jeopardy. Killian Myers can kiss my arse,” she said vehemently. So feisty.

  “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that. Or better yet, I’ll call him right now and you can tell him yourself.”

  “No,” Ashley said rapidly. She was terrified. What had this Killian done to make her so frightened? “Forget I said it.”

  “What’s the magic word?” he mocked.

  “Forget I said it, please,” she said submissively. Please actually has no magical properties. No words do actually unless a magical emphasis is placed on them. But that’s a subject we really don’t have time to get into.

  “There’s a good girl. Run along then, and make sure you’re ready for Mister Myers’ call.”

  I watched Ashley hurry out, looking a damn sight more sheepish than when she’d left me. This guy and his employer seemed to have a very negative effect on her. I wanted to ask the fellow some questions of my own, but I didn’t fancy finding out what was so frightening about him, so I kept my mouth shut and decided I’d have to find answers more covertly. I waited for him to leave and then got right on his tail. I followed him to Fremlin Walk, but then he lost me. I don’t know how he did it. One moment he was in front of me, then he was gone amongst the crowd. Oh well, it didn’t matter too much. I had enough to work with for now. I had a name to research. Who was Killian Myers?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When I got home Doris and Gavin were shouting at each other. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the pair to be arguing, but it was an unusual time. Gavin didn’t usually get up until long after dark — and no, before you ask he isn’t a vampire, I’ve checked. As I shut the front door I heard Doris come clunking down the stairs.