Read Thaumatology 12: Vengeance Online

Authors: Niall Teasdale

Tags: #Fantasy, #werewolf, #demon, #sorcery, #thaumatology, #dragon, #Magic, #succubus

Thaumatology 12: Vengeance (29 page)

‘Uh-huh,’ Ceri agreed. ‘I know that. And the castle’s not legendary. Every so often someone’s stupid enough to go try on the crown. Lily’s father told us about it.’

‘Of course. Then there’s the rather exceptional ability you have to manipulate magic. Also almost unheard of. Also somewhat legendary. What you did to Remus, and your ley lines… These are the stuff of legend, Miss Brent. The kind of thing the sorcerers of old were rumoured to do.’

‘I was taught that sorcerers were either over-inflated legends or pacted wizards.’

‘But your feats are a matter of fact and you’ve none of the feeling of someone with a pact strong enough to do what you do. You associate with Demon Lords and dragons, but your power is your own.’ He took a deep breath. ‘The evidence is not
entirely
solid, but there is enough for me to say that you are a sorceress, I’ve even heard Doctor Tennant use the word, and that you are Ayasha. And I have told no one. I’m still trying to work out what the implications are and what to do about it.’

Ceri nodded thoughtfully. ‘Okay, guilty as charged, but if you haven’t told anyone then you’ve got a problem. The Order of Merlin is sniffing around, and the way they’re sniffing suggests they may know about the sorcery.’

Sachs’ frown looked genuinely troubled. ‘What is your relationship with the Order?’

‘Huh… Mutual dislike? They tried to force me into membership. I’m blackmailing them to leave me alone. They come after me or my friends, I promised to march an army of werewolves up to their doors in Cambridge. They stupidly threatened Alexandra.’

‘And you believe they’re trying to break the deal?’

‘Carter suspects they might be.’

Sachs nodded and was silent for a second. ‘How did you find the bugs?’

‘A gremlin. He helped in the Witch Hunter case.’

‘You do get around, Miss Brent.’

‘Well, yeah. I’m opening diplomatic relations between Otherworld and the Demon Realm. Ceridwyn Brent is officially exiled from Otherworld, but Lady Ayasha is welcome in Court any time she likes.’ Ceri frowned. ‘Actually, a little too welcome. Have you ever
seen
Oberon or Titania? Really hard to say no to.’

‘You’ve been to the Summer Court?’ He said it in flat tones which suggested he did not believe what he was hearing, but he was not surprised.

‘Uh… It was Twill’s wedding and we ended up saving them from an Unseelie army.’

‘Right.’

‘Ophelia, Lily, and I embodied the Morrigna and…’

Sachs held up a hand. ‘Please. I already suspected you could reduce me to ash with a thought, I don’t believe I want to know that it’s worse.’

‘I have no intention of harming you, Mister Sachs,’ Ceri told him. ‘I just need to know where I stand. This is all getting too big. Sooner or later it’s all going to come out. I know it can’t stay a secret forever. What do you plan to do?’

‘Remove the bugs and taps. If you know about them, they’re useless. Beyond that… Nothing about you. I’ll be watching, but I usually am. I do not believe you pose a current threat to the government of this nation, so it’s nothing to do with me. The Order of Merlin, however, have moved up my threat list.’

‘Well… Thank you. Be careful with the Order though. They have influence in places that’ll give you a nosebleed. Turn over the wrong rock…’

‘Thank you for the advice, but this is my job.’

Ceri gave a shrug. ‘Good luck with that then,’ she said, and then she was gone.

Soho.

‘It’s good of you to do this,’ Lily said as she walked back to the bar with a tray of empty glasses.

Anita was sitting on a stool there along with Ray, her human and also very hunky boyfriend. He looked like a very fit, handsome man in black jeans and a leather jacket. She looked like a warrior goddess, dressed in leather. The leather waistcoat showed off her décolletage beautifully, and the leather slacks had a slightly worn quality which suggested they had seen battle. As far as Lily knew, they had not.

‘What?’ Anita asked. ‘Bring my boyfriend out for a night on the town and, incidentally, make sure that a friend of the pack gets home safely?’

‘And give Ceri and Michael some couple time. They haven’t had much time to be themselves recently. Or be themselves being wolves anyway.’

‘Our pleasure,’ Ray said. ‘Literally.’

Lily flashed him a grin, but Anita was frowning. ‘What about you and Michael?’ she asked.

‘Well, what about me and Michael?’

‘Well, if Ceri has Michael time and you have Ceri time, where’s the Lily-Michael time?’

‘Oh… That’s… It’s not the same.’ Anita just looked at the half-succubus, which made Lily feel that something more was needed. ‘I mean, they’re mates and I’m Ceri’s… friend. And we’re lovers of course, and we share Michael, and he shares us. And, uh, he’s said I’m sort of like a mate, which is great because it shows I’m not just someone he sleeps with. But, I mean, werewolves don’t have harems, so… Well, Ceri’s his mate. What?’

‘Doesn’t happen much these days because if there’s a gender imbalance in a pack it’s usually more males, but when there
is
a shortage of males it’s not unheard of for a wolf to take two mates. Happens the other way around too if there are a lot of males. A few extra on either side isn’t usually an issue, but if it’s a big difference… Especially back in the old days, your mate provided food during pregnancy. It’s hard work for one male to keep two females, but sometimes it’s the only way to get pack numbers up.’

‘Oh,’ Lily said.

‘Talk to Ceri about it. She’s the human. She’s the one likely to get jealous over it. But I think you should spend the occasional night with just Michael.’

‘Okay…’ Lily did not sound entirely convinced. ‘Uh, table three. Be back soon.’

‘You’ve set a cat among the pigeons, love,’ Ray commented as Lily walked away.

‘Maybe,’ Anita replied. ‘I hope not.’

Battersea.

Ceri looked up at the full moon standing above the city. To the eyes of a werewolf, it shone brighter, an incandescent silver disc that bathed the world in a slightly eerie white light, but it also seemed as though Luperca was watching. The goddess had always struck Ceri as a fairly down-to-earth sort of woman, so she was probably enjoying the effect the moon tended to have on her children.

Ceri, however, was not a werewolf and did not feel the same mood swings they did. Oh, her time in the pack had infected her with some of it. Once she got among the wolves on a full moon night, their excitement built her own. The scents of sweat and sex were a heady mixture she could not avoid reacting to.

Tonight somehow felt different. Things were changing. It felt as though something was ending. She had tried to get into the swing of the evening, but it was far harder than usual. Michael, being a good mate, had picked up on her melancholy and taken her aside, finding a spot away from the others where they could just sit and cuddle.

Mate troubled,
he growled.

Mate… unsure,
Ceri replied. She dropped her muzzle, looking away.
Mate not good mate this night.

He gave a grunt of displeasure, reaching up to pull her face around to his. His nose brushed hers, and he nuzzled at her throat.
Mate ever good mate.
He looked, briefly, about as thoughtful as a werewolf could.
Not same, no demon. Go demon?

Ceri thought about it. They had been together a lot recently. Maybe they
had
become a threesome rather than two linked pairs. That was good, right?
Night for mate,
she growled.

She mate. Not first mate, but mate. We go demon.

Well… Cheryl would probably not mind if she was a little late into the office…

Kennington, April 26
th
.

They lay in the hazy light of early morning, Lily between Ceri and Michael, their legs a tangle. There had been excited sex followed by slower love-making, and then a lull. There might be more before they slept, but maybe they would just lie still and bask in the afterglow. It felt like that sort of night.

Ceri opened her eyes as a small sob disturbed the silence. There were tears in Lily’s eyes, a trickle of liquid running down from one corner.

‘What’s wrong, love?’ Ceri asked, suddenly concerned.

‘Nothing!’ Lily said quickly. ‘Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s right.’

‘Then why the tears?’

‘I… Anita said that werewolves sometimes took more than one mate. Not often these days, but sometimes. She said maybe
I
should have some time alone with Michael, because he obviously thought of me as another mate.’

Ceri’s eyebrows went up, but she said, ‘Maybe you should.’

‘No,’ Lily replied, smiling through her tears. ‘This is much better. Don’t you see? You wanted me to be with you when you could have just been together. Nothing’s wrong, it’s all right. It’s perfect.’

Leaning forward, Ceri kissed Lily’s cheek. On the other side, Michael lifted his muzzle and licked away the trail of tears on that side.

Lily giggled. ‘Oh great, wolf spit.’

Ceri joined the giggle. ‘Maybe we should get some sleep. We can pick this up later.’ And they settled themselves where they were, Lily still smiling until drowsiness overtook her. Ceri felt sleep harder to grasp, however. Everything was perfect, so why could she not shake the feeling things were ending?

Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, April 28
th
.

Huanglong sat in his room in silence. He had attempted to meditate several times over the last couple of days and had always come away dissatisfied. He knew what it was that plagued him and stopped him coming to a decision. He had lost his own inner balance, much as the creature known as Lo Chan had had balance taken away from it.

He needed focus now, more than ever. He needed to
know
that the path he had laid out was the right one, that this was the only choice. The act was simple now that the ring had been made: he needed only to slide it onto a finger. Admittedly, his inability to regrow a new hand made that simple task harder now, but it would not take much effort, and it served as a reminder of why he was doing it.

No, the physical act needed no preparation, but the act was little more than a symbol. It was a symbol that Huanglong was willing to do
anything
to get his revenge upon Ceridwyn Brent and Lily Carpenter. Was he
really
so obsessed that he would do it? Would he take the final step necessary to ensure that he could defeat them?

As he sat, legs crossed, on the floor of his hotel room, his mind drifting in the early stages of meditation, images flared into being before his eyes and he almost recoiled, once again failing. This time he pressed on and the images continued.

He stood amid the machines of the power station Brent had built, his right hand outstretched toward the auburn-haired girl in the magical armour. Her sword whipped about as he summoned his magic, and she severed his hand from his arm. And he had run, out into the night. The sensation of the sword’s magic burning through him had been sickening. He had known that returning to his dragon form would make things worse, and he knew that he was dying. In desperation he had cast aside much of what made him a dragon…

And in that instant had come the Dragonfall.

Huanglong had lost almost everything he was that night. He had hung onto a kernel of truth: that he was a dragon, born of a line which had sought to save the species from destruction for many thousands of years. But the dragons were gone and he was contemplating something horrific to revenge himself upon those who had destroyed them. Except… Had they been responsible?

The half-succubus, Carpenter, had stopped Brent completing the bridge, but she had been directed to do it and equipped to generate the backlash by the Demon Lord, Molech. Molech had devised a way of using Brent to destroy the dragons, and the tales Huanglong had heard through various channels suggested that Brent and Carpenter had destroyed Molech. Should he not be congratulating them? Should he not be turning his attention to helping the surviving members of his species, no matter how wretched they had now become, to keep something of their culture alive?

We are the purest of dragons, my son.
The image crashed through his mind, filling his consciousness. His father was before him, around him, within him; in their natural state, dragons were indescribable in terms of mundane geometry.
Our line stretches back, uninterrupted, to the earliest dates of known history. We have always stood for the greater good of the dragon race. We
must
see to it that the dragons survive.

So that was the answer. The dragons were gone, but the ones who lived could continue onward in some form…

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