Chapter 51 — Fire can be like that

  I stood alone on the shop stoop for a moment, then went back in and locked the door for all the good it would do in stopping the two Seekers. Thankfully the brass around the lock didn’t bare any scratches, it looked like they’d at least been proficient at picking the lock.

  I grit my teeth in frustration. I’d wasted so many years trying to live a normal life, start a business, and live the years I’d missed. Despite it all, the supernatural world had found me. Instead of being prepared, honed, and ready for anything, I felt lost, unprepared, and anxious. I shook my head and straightened out my shirt.

  I pushed those thoughts aside. I had plenty I could practice and start on now and self-recrimination wouldn’t serve but to waste more time. Still, nothing I could practice right now would be enough to significantly help in the next few days. I didn’t want to expend too much energy or train too hard as it would fatigue myself or Fren too much for any future looming battle.

  My stomach grumbled and I grinned despite it. That was something I could take care of. It was well past dinner. Working the last few hours had been a rush. In a few days I would be manning the shop for the full day while Kate had her days off.

  I checked the three floors to make sure all the candles were out, and then I turned off the few lights that still worked. I headed for the front door with a whispered, “Thanks for having my back, Fren. Heal up.”

  With my parting words I closed the door and went out to get food. Sarah was ecstatic to see me alone while the diner was slow. Sarah sat down across from me after taking my order and sending it to the kitchen, she had a zillion questions to ask me about Lana. I quickly realized that as close as we had gotten, as many truths as we had shared, I didn’t know a lot of the surface level things about her. I knew she liked to read, and had some romance books, but I had no clue who here favorite author was, or her favorite music, what she liked to do for fun. I could guess, but I didn’t know. It made me excited for the future and getting to know her better, but it made me feel like an idiot in my conversation with Sarah. I also felt a pit of worry grow in my stomach; Lana knew very little about me too.

  I ordered a sandwich, wanting something fast and easy again. This one was baked so it took an extra few minutes for Sarah to bring it to me but was well worth it. The bread was crispy on the outside, soft, and gooey on the inside. The warm turkey and cheese melted in my mouth. It was just what I needed, and my mood improved significantly.

  Walking back down the street for a quick respite of fresh air, I waved to Rex through the window of his dojo. A group of high school age kids were grappling on the floor under his watchful eye. He grinned and gave me a thumbs up and I returned it, forgetting my troubles for a few moments. The market district was busy for a late Monday evening. My store closed relatively early, it being just Kate and I working all the hours together or at split times. We might have to rethink the hours as I saw a pair of people looking through the front door from down the road.

  As I approached, I saw a black SUV parked on the street front illegally. Two men, Chris and Gregory in dark suits were the individuals at the front door.

  Frankly, I was sick of explaining things, sick of people wanting my help when all they were doing was slowing my efforts. I ditched out of sight and planned to go on a short walk through the nearby neighborhood, then I could get in by the back-alley door. Chris might be wanting to re-record my testimony about the other day, or some other waste of time. Either way, I didn’t care to participate. I didn’t need to know the details about the murders today, I’d seen enough. If there was something exceptionally relevant Lana could tell me it tonight. A fae creature wouldn’t leave anything more obvious at the crime scene than what had been left at Lana’s or the inn. After dealing with the seekers, my veneer of putting up with BS was at an all-time low, and I really didn’t want to get arrested.

  The sun was almost down, night coming far faster as the season changed. But there was still plenty I could work on before going to sleep. I could mediate, work on my ring, the identification glasses, or prepare more for my next fight with the creature.

  I took my walk, winding through the neighborhood behind my shop as I considered, it would also give me plausible deniability for why I hadn’t answered the door when I met the agents again. It would be even better if I had an alibi or a witness, but it wasn’t like it was a crime to not be home when the FBI knocked on your door. After a good walk, I went back to the alleyway behind the shop. It was empty of people but the side I entered had a few cars. My jeep was the only vehicle near the far end, All the ones on this side were fancy, new, and being far away from my shop, very operational. This is a royal road draft copy, if found elsewhere report as pirated.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  The paving was old and pitted and I had to watch my step in the faint light, I stuck to the side nearest the back yard fencing for the better part of a dozen homes. Most had massive bushes, trees and other multi decade old growth which blocked out the view of the shop backs from the now expensive homes.

  The entire drive was empty of people and animals. I liked it that way, like a silent hidden recess in an otherwise awake and boisterous city. It was the odd exception to see someone jogging back here or parking on the lane when the road grew too crowded. Beside the cars, nothing else stood out except for a large industrial trash bin at each end, angled so the city disposal truck could access them once a week. I rounded the first, lightly holding my breath as it always smelled of fermentation and spoiled food from one of the bars down the row from my corner shop.

  I was admiring a few vines that were escaping over backyard fencing that abutted the back alley when something stabbed me in the back of the left knee.

  I let out a manly scream as I fell back onto the cement and saw three of the disgusting pixies dart in around me, two swooped down to finish what the third had started. The lead most went for my throat with a blade, quick as lighting.

  I slammed up my shield, a reflex drilled into me by Clair with hundreds of less than comfortable training sessions. The pixie hit it full force and crumpled, vertebrae and skull likely fractured. The other two pulled back from their aggressive dives, waiting for an opening.

  I rolled aside to find a nail driven into the back of my knee, nearly halfway buried in my flesh. I gripped it in one fist, gritted my teeth with a curse, then yanked it free.

  It was stuck and I nearly didn’t manage the task, but with an eye searing surge of pain, it popped out.

  The pain was too much for me to maintain my focus and I lost control of my shield. The barrier dropped in a flash of power, motes of magical energy dispersing visibly into the air. I was lucky it was a spell I was very familiar with and that my failed control hadn’t caused mental backlash which would have meant my death given the situation.

  The two remaining pixies dove for me again, one feinted to the side at the last moment, going for the bloody nail I had tossed to the ground.

  Blood, if preserved correctly, had power. A creature of magic could target a spell using my blood. Or make an effigy of me and try to harm me from afar. I could probably block it, but it wouldn’t be easy and it would pit my will against whatever other force was attacking while the attacking force risked nothing.

  I could beat the fae creature, I was reasonably sure… but what if it was someone else? What if it was the daemon? A daemon with my blood was not something I wanted to consider.

  “Ignis!” I shouted in a hurried rush, resorting to the elemental power that came most readily to me. Flames eagerly leapt from my hands to obey. This was one of the times that my power differential vs stamina played into my hands. An inferno blasted out from my outstretch arm, liquifying the little fae, my blood, the nail and half the asphalt road behind a shop. The heat was intense enough that it glassed the surface of the road, the stone turning to liquid which ran like water. The temperature of the spell dropped the second I stopped fueling it with my mana, but the air still rang with the air pressure change and the cooling asphalt let out cracks and pops from superheated water. The blast was much more than I had planned on, sucking my magical reserves to a dangerously low level in a fight from a single spell. Fire can be like that. I could have had it a hundredth part of that temperature and it would have been enough to end the fae. My pain, surprise, and fear had caused the spell to grow. Fire workings were more prone to spreading and pulling on my mana core directly, rather than me feeding them, if I lost focus.

  Fortunately, I hadn’t accidentally burned down my shop or someone’s house. What did happen was the inferno of flames and pressure change in the air caused the remaining pixie to experience some very localized turbulence and flit to the ground in a hurry. Its wings drooped as it screamed in pain, the thin fibrous flesh wilted and blistered from the heat. I eagerly kicked it square in the chest, hard. The bulbus grey body slapped down the drive a dozen feet then into the back wall of the building. It didn’t move.

  My aggression may have been too much in my current state because the kick sent a lance of blinding pain up from my injured leg. It was worth it, considering my wits were at an end and having a rusted nail shoved two inches into the back of my knee had been less than comfortable.

  I took several deep breaths. Then prepared another defensive spell in a rush incase this was only the first wave of an attack.

  I scanned the ground for blood, finding a few droplets that I commanded dirt to disrupt and mix into the soil, the effect being that it would lose any real use against me. I stumbled and swore but managed to gather up the two remnant pixie bodies into my arms (copyrighted by Brock Walker, 2025). Their skin was far too moist and tough, like I was holding some child’s doll made of wet plastic.

  Disgusting.

  My knee nearly gave out and I could feel hot blood pooling down my calf and leg into my shoe as I hobbled across the back alley. My only regret was not catching one of them alive so I could question the stupid creature before I killed it. I clenched my jaw and made my way to the back of the store, thankful that fences and back yards of homes blocked the alley and none of the shops had windows facing it on the main level. Most didn’t even have a second level like mine. I’d been in the few shops that had them, and those were mostly used for storage. No one else lived on the lane. Unless someone had been driving down one of the cross streets at exactly the wrong moment to see me directly, the fight had probably gone unnoticed.

  I dropped the bodies on the back step, not caring if they got more ‘damaged’. I had a little time until they would dissolve into the ether. Their bodies were made of magic connected to a soul. By dying, I’d severed that link. The magic would maintain the forms for a short time without the ‘pattern’ of the soul, but I couldn’t dally. Their cores would vanish in short order unless I did a ritual to preserve them and prepare them for my use. I had to tell Fren we were under surveillance at the least, or an attack at the worst.