“Um, well, it’s me. I’m the accelerant, I suppose you’d say. The magic flows through me and I command it. Your blood strengthens the magic by tailoring it to you all. Stuff like salt is a natural repellant, so I use that or any number of other herbs and spices, and ground up plants and roots, to boost my power and concentrate it to where it’s most needed.”
“Go on.” Contrary to his expectations, this was fascinating.
Gethin poked him with a spoon. “Lay the table for the poor man. Unlike you he doesn’t take his dinner on the run.”
“Unlikeus,you mean.” But he did as he was bid. “Marlowe?”
“Oh right, yeah.” The mage took a seat with his mug of tea, so Sorley sat too. He was trying not to look threatening, and mirroring human behaviour was something he was practised in. Usually before he enthralled folk before chowing down on a vein, but still, all practice was useful.
“I don’t know exactly how it works. Like I said at the Council meeting, this is innate magic, not something that can be learned, although obviously every young mage has to learn how to control their powers. And they vary too. Some have a wide range of ability, some are more specialised.” He paused, but continued when Sorley gestured at him. “Uncle Artemis is a good all—”
“UncleArtemis?” Sorley interrupted him.
“He kept his name when he transitioned. Said he was named after a Greek god and as they all did whatever they pleased, why shouldn’t he?” He scowled. “Got a problem with that?”
“Absolutely not,” Sorley assured him. “I was just surprised. Anyway, you were saying?”
“Uncle Artemis is a good all-rounder. I’m slightly better at land-based magic and wards, although I can also change my appearance enough to fool all but the most eagle-eyed of folk. My magic is strong and long-lasting. Alaric and Willa, distant cousins of mine, are both best with water in any form, Kippen and Dameon are virtual wizards at disguise and illusions.” He looked thoughtful. “Jemima Fisher too. She’s a very strong illusionist.”
“Is there a list of all the mages in the country?”
Marlowe waggled his hand horizontally in a so-so gesture. “Only of the ones who’ve declared themselves. We’re not numerous, and most if not all of the old families speak to each other, so if you haven’t introduced yourself to the Council, it’s likely someone else will have, but there’s always the possibility there’s a loner out there who’s flying under the radar. Like the Council didn’t know about Alec.” He gave Sorley a pointed look. “Not everyone is going to be as chill and well-meaning as your six-hundred-year-old vampire friend.”
Gethin slid an omelette onto a plate and in front of Marlowe, who smiled up at him with gratitude. “Help yourself to condiments. I brought them along in case you needed them, but I think I seasoned it okay. D’you want some toast as well?”
Marlowe tucked in. Sorley pondered the depths of his wine glass. “Do you think,” he said slowly, “that whoever this vampire is that’s been prowling around, he’s involved?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Definitely.”
He sighed. “So much for thinking we were overreacting with the wards. You too, I presume?” he said to Marlowe, who nodded, his mouth full. “Well,fuck.”
Gethin pressed against his back and kneaded Sorley’s shoulders, the weight of his hands a reassuring comfort. “He’s rattled, love. He’s presumably aware you’re back, which means he’s likely to step up his campaign to get you to notice him.”
“He could just ring the fucking doorbell,” Sorley groused.
“He’s hardly thinking logically,” Edwin pointed out. “He’s out to make a scene now, preferably with you front and centre to witness whatever it is he’s planning.”
“I wish we knew what that was,” Alec muttered fervently, appearing from the living room. “Loose cannons are so dangerous.”
“Wish we knewwhohe was,” Edwin sighed.
As if summoned by their collective dark thoughts, Gethin’s phone vibrated in his back pocket. He glanced at the clock on the wall as he pulled it free.
“This can’t be good news. Oh crap, it’s Justin. On video call.”
“We have three more confirmed attacks,” the Head Wolf said without preamble. “All three of them human, one a woman, all giving the medical professions a run for their money.” He gave a deep sigh, which echoed around the small kitchen in the silence of pre-dawn. “Not that they can help it, of course, but humans are a real headache when they get affected by magical woowoo that evenwecan’t explain away.”
“Where were they attacked, Justin?” Sorley asked, a feeling of dread snaking up his spine that no amount of physical attention from Gethin could obliterate.A woman, seriously?
When Justin said, reluctantly, “Leeds,” they all groaned.
“That ties in with what happened tonight.” Gethin brought Justin up to speed.
Sorley pressed a hand to his head. He couldn’t suffer from headaches but it sure as hell felt as if anything could trigger one, this would. “I don’t get it,” he said. “I haven’t been with anyone but Gethin recently. And I haven’t been out on the Leeds club scene since the night I was attacked. Why now? And why a woman?”
“Because he’s catching up on hurting people locally?” Gethin continued to knead his shoulder and neck with his free hand. “Because he’s a psycho who doesn’t care who he hurts? Who knows at this point. Justin, can you get photo IDs of the people involved sent over please. We’re presuming they’re all folk Sorley’s somehow been in contact with, but I’d rather not take anything for granted right now.”
