Wild Spark Read online

  Seeing the Sights

  "What did they say?" asked Kate, coming out of the bedroom.

  "Wow, you look..."

  "Amazing? Stunning? Adorable and beautiful?" she smiled and twirled and I caught a trace of her perfume.

  "And the rest. You're an angel." Avoiding looking at the window, I walked over and took her hands. "Come on, let's get out of here. The concierge suggested the Eiffel Tower, you wanna go do the tourist thing?"

  "And what about our dead friend here?"

  "They'll sort it. Look, I'll tell you all about it on the way, let's just go do something nice."

  "Okay, but you know it will be ridiculously busy there, don't you?"

  "I don't care. Hopefully nobody will be making us an offer we shouldn't refuse, and with any luck we can get through the evening with no more dead dudes."

  "That sounds wonderful."

  In a few minutes we were ready to go. It felt odd, in a familiar kind of way. In other words, it was business as usual.

  We held tight to each other as we made our way through the hotel. It was unspoken, but both of us knew we'd be lucky if we got a few hours with nothing nuts happening.

  We didn't even make it out the revolving front door.

  "Oi, Spark, wot you doin' ere?" asked a decidedly odd looking pigeon sat on the back of a chaise lounge in a seating area not too far from the door.

  We stopped and both stared at the mangled looking bird, head too large, beak the wrong color, almost purple, one wing stuck out at an odd angle, and the list went on.

  The creature shook and revealed its true Hidden form. Why it had to try to hide from Hidden like that when it's meant to just be the veil for Regulars I have no idea, but some imps like to see if they can maintain animal shape just for fun. Yeah, that's imps for you. Nuts.

  "Oh, hey, Ibrahim, didn't recognize you there for a minute."

  "Good, eh? Been practicin' an studyin' pigeons an wot not."

  "Oh, er, right."

  There was an extended silence which was becoming rather common, and then I said, "Oh, this is Kate, my wife."

  Ibrahim beamed and in a cloud of noxious gas disappeared then reappeared on her shoulder, smiling broadly. And also looking down her blouse. Why imps are so obsessed with the female anatomy is a mystery as they all look genderless themselves, but there you go, guess some things go beyond the species gap.

  "Nice to meet you, luv. Got up the duff did you? Shame." Ibrahim tutted and flattened oversized, tattered imp ears in consolation.

  "No I am not! We love each other," said Kate, waving away the smoke.

  Ibrahim did a double take from me to Kate and back again. "Blimey, you dun good for yourself, mate."

  "I know," I said, smiling. "We're on honeymoon."

  "Oh, cool. You goin' tonight? Seems most everyone is."

  "You mean the invite from the Queen?"

  "Yeah." Ibrahim leaned close to Kate's ear and beckoned me with a taloned finger. "Got a dead imp in me room we thought was kinda dead centuries ago. Had nasty stuff carved on its chest. Kinda made it hard to say no. Did at first, but after he got squished I changed me mind."

  "So you're gonna cave and do what she says? Why?"

  "Cause she's a nutter, that's why. Look, Spark, I may be an imp but I don't want France to be off limits. You know what she's like, all bossy and takes offense real easy. These French peeps, they have the best stuff to hide. You should see the knickers wot the women wear. All lacy and stuff, perfect for messing with da stitches then when they sit down to have a—"

  "Yeah, yeah, I get the idea. So, you're going?"

  "Damn straight. And if you guys have any sense you will too. She's takin' this opportunity to get rid of her enemies, or anyone she takes a dislike to, hence all the bodies and smashed windows." Ibrahim shuddered and then said brightly, "An besides, I hear she's got lava, all the way from Iceland. They have proper fiery stuff, real explosive."

  "Thanks for the heads-up, be seeing you."

  "Bye," said Kate.

  Ibrahim jumped from her shoulder, shouted, "Bugger," as he morphed into the pigeon, discovered flying was impossible with a dodgy wing, and dropped to the carpet with a thud.

  We carried on walking, pretending we hadn't noticed.

  "Ibrahim seems nice," said Kate.

  "It isn't. I met that particular menace the time I had to investigate a missing... Ah, never mind, we're on vacation. Come on, let's go see the tower before someone melts it or it blows up, or something."

  "Just don't hail a taxi. God knows what will happen or who'll be driving. Let's walk, take in the evening air."

  "Good idea."

  Refusing to be put on a downer, we held hands, smiled at each other, and wandered out into the warm Paris evening.

  Nobody tried to stop us, attack us, drop anything on us, or even offer to give us directions. The more we were left alone the more nervous I became.

  When everything goes well it means only one thing. Something extra bad will happen later to make up for it.

  Corny but Cool

  "It's beautiful," whispered Kate, snuggling up close, arm wrapped tight around my waist, mine around hers.

  "It is," I agreed, and I meant it.

  For a while, standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower, having admired it from afar and then climbed as far as we could, darkness descending way before we even arrived as we took in some of what Paris had to offer, well, it was perfect.

  Just us, the crowds ignored, their voices lost to our own bubble of happiness. We were warmed by the gentle breeze that was neither strong nor cold, the air balmy, the sky clear. Billions of stars shone down on us and us alone.

  The noise of Paris went on all around us, and it was beautiful in its own way. Everything was muted from our vantage point, a background thrum of sound. People, cars, and the general hum of the city. Parisians come out at night, like the whole city is infested with vampires, only truly coming alive when the sun sets and the atmosphere takes on a different quality.

  It's almost magical, the feeling in the air. Strangely exotic and intoxicating, sweeping you up in its arms. Everything warmer and kinder than during the daytime where everyone seems to be posing and posturing, pointedly ignoring you and looking down on those that aren't born and bred here.

  The night though, that's different. Relaxed, more welcoming. As if now the night hides them, people can unwind and let the masks drop, be happy.

  And we were.

  The madness of the day was put behind us, just for a while. We said nothing of the less than subtle invitation. What was there to say? We would go, there was no question of that once the strange creature had been killed. This wasn't optional. If we wanted to even try to stay for the week and do so with all our bits intact then we had to attend the birthday celebrations. We knew where to go, everyone did, no address needed.

  If I'd known this was her birthday celebration week I would never have come. Morag was renowned for her cruelty, her power, her hold over the city, and she was clearly going all out to ensure this was one hell of a party. Whether anyone actually wanted to celebrate or not.

  I put her from my mind. Plenty of time to dwell on the crazed bitch later, I was sure of that. For now, we held each other, basked in the warm glow of our own making, and then Kate made the world drop out from under my feet.

  "I know how to have a baby," she said, drawing away as she spoke so we could see each other properly.

  I was taken aback. It was so out of the blue, so not what I'd expected. Words spoken with no gentle introduction to the topic, just said as if we'd been having a conversation about it right then, which we hadn't.

  "Aren't you going to say something?" Kate searched my face for clues, but I didn't know what to think, to say.

  "Do you want a child, Kate? Children?"

  "I do. Ever since you know what, I haven't been able to get it off my mind. Seeing you like that, and really thinking about it, exploring the idea properly for so long, it's changed things, opene
d up something inside of me. It's selfish, probably stupid and wrong and there's a million and one reasons why we shouldn't, but yes, I want to have children. Three, if that's okay?" Kate smiled with uncertainty. I was too shocked to know how to react, what to say.

  "Say something, please?"

  "Yes, absolutely. It's crazy, it will change everything, and maybe it is selfish as hell, but yes, yes, yes." I hugged her and spun her around, ignoring the frowns of the tourists and the tuts as we made them move out the way. I didn't care. They could wait to get their look at the view.

  "You sure? I know I'm springing this on you."

  "I am. Hell, no, damn, I don't know. But I feel it, feel it inside. It's the right thing to do. For us, for the world even. Our children should be born. We should do this. But how?"

  "Put me down first." I lowered Kate and she said, "I did a little digging, found out a few things, spoke to some people. And there is someone here who can help. Or I think they can. They know how I can change things, change the vampire virus so I can be fertile again."

  "Here? But that's a mad coincidence." Then I understood. All this grief she'd given me about coming to Paris, the crap that had happened, like it was all my fault for using the Chemist, it was a ruse. I remembered she'd suggested him, told me about his new line of business.

  "You sneaky bugger. You planned this whole thing, didn't you? You made the Chemist convince me Paris was a good choice. You sneak!"

  "Moi?" asked Kate, all innocence and fluttering eyelashes.

  "Yeah, come here." I smiled and moved to hug her, but just as I did there was a blur of black and she was gone, just gone.

  I spun in a circle, rushed to the edge, and for a moment I was sure I saw her outline being carried away by something.

  "Kate!" I screamed into the emptiness. But she'd vanished, leaving me alone.

  Again.

  A Right Witch

  There are witches and then there are Witches. You've got your Grandma types, although, obviously, none can compete with her as she's got the look, the attitude, and the mad skills to go with it. People like her, trust her, and know she's the real deal.

  But she's good at her core, pure and always looking out for those she cares about. Sure, she's killed, done nasty things, but always with the best of intentions.

  And then there are others, like Morag, who refers to herself as the Queen although she is nothing of the sort. She's just bad news, that's all she is. This woman was a witch and then some. Powerful, ancient, and less than kind. Hence the rather unsubtle party invitation. It explained why so many Hidden were in town, though. Everyone local, or who thought maybe they'd want something from her, or owed her, which many did, would move heaven and earth to ensure they showed their face and remained in her good graces.

  She took insult quickly, wasn't the forgiving type, and her power extended well across France and into the rest of Europe, with international ties to a lot of less than savory business practices that involved the darker side of the arts.

  You'd think the Council would deal with her, do what was necessary to stop the likes of her wielding so much power, but she was in too strong a position for them to do much about her unless they wanted an outright war. She may have been nasty as a goblin's wart, but for all her faults she'd also done a lot for the witches. Helped them rise from being regarded as inferior to wizards to become well-respected, if not feared, and on a par with any other human Hidden.

  Cross her, try to remove her from her position of strength, and the Council would have a witch uprising on their hands.

  She wasn't a Head. The French had their Council, hardly changed for centuries, but she had a lot of influence and more freedom than any of the old duffers could dream of. She broke the rules with almost every action, scornful of consequences; it never ceased to amaze me how selective those in charge were regarding Hidden who had stepped over the line.

  They had their reasons, no doubt, and it all came down to politics, as always. They feared the repercussions of moving against her, preferred to stick their heads in the sand and let her carry on as long as she did nothing so obviously blatant it left them with no choice.

  So she had free rein of the city, went about her business how she saw fit, and walked a fine line between being merely distrusted and outright vilified. The problem was that many young magic users, and old alike, were drawn to her because of the way she did things. The witches especially had endured the male-centric Councils and their outdated approach to all things magical for so many centuries that her breezy, dismissive attitude to them was a breath of fresh air.

  National Councils were always dominated by males, and France, like the UK, had had its Dark Council disbanded because of abuse of power by the Head. Now they had their National Council, which answered to the Worldwide one, same as us, same as many other countries, and still it was overrun with old, narrow-minded men who lived in the past and had no clue how the modern world really worked.

  Not Morag. She had her finger on the pulse, understood the digital age, and was well aware of the power of reputation, of how fast news spread these days, and that putting on a show was just as, if not more, important than actually doing anything.

  Yup, still politics.

  She played her games, the Council played theirs, the same as all Hidden factions, human and otherwise. It was all one damn big game show, and Morag was the host. She liked her parties, and liked to make a spectacle so nobody forgot who she was or what she was capable of. The invitations being the perfect reminder to all those that had not yet been invited or sent word they would attend.

  What has this got to do with Kate being snatched off the Eiffel Tower nine hundred feet in the air and whisked away?

  Obvious. It was one of her creatures that had taken her, of that I was sure. This was Morag's subtle reminder that we were invited, and expected to attend her party. What you'd call her idea of a chauffeur, I guess, although clearly I was supposed to make my own way to her home to join in the celebrations.

  Couldn't wait. Shame I'd forgotten to get her a present. She could have a knuckle sandwich. A smack right in the face if she'd harmed one hair on Kate's head.

  As I made the long descent from the top of the tower, I surprised myself with my calmness, how steady my breathing remained and how strong my legs felt. I knew this was just Morag playing games, showing off, making a spectacle for the overseas visitors, but damn, I was on honeymoon!

  And Kate had said she knew how to change her body, beat the vampire curse and bear children if that was what I wanted. She wanted it, too, I knew she did. The thought of it had set her eyes dancing, her lips twitching with nervous excitement mixed with worry and concern. Joy sang in my heart, knowing Kate wanted to be a mother and would bear my children, her children. Our children.

  No way would I lose her now. No way would I let any harm come to her. I didn't believe Morag intended to hurt her, but there were no guarantees with this mad witch. She'd been known to do some pretty nasty stuff to people if they even looked at her funny, let alone failed to show the respect she felt was due.

  So, at the bottom of the tower, well away from the tourists and shrouded in darkness, I kind of had a mini meltdown. Guess the chilled Faz had reached his limit.

  I swore and screamed and shouted and kicked and hit the ground and ranted and raged and cursed the night sky, and when I'd released the pent-up anger, I straightened my tie, tucked in my white shirt, put my hands through my hair, and went to hail a cab.

  Party time.

  Party Time

  After the private outburst, I surprised myself with the calm that washed over me once more like the Parisian night, leaving me focused, clear of mind, and cold of heart. I let my emotions rule me, always have, and I guess I always will, but I'd learned a valuable lesson the previous year—sometimes it's best to look at things with a more analytical mind. Weigh up the options, act in the correct manner to get to my goal, and then release the fury I always have inside. Thrumming away in the backgro
und, coiled like a spring, ready to unleash and cause destruction.

  I knew myself well enough to know there was something else at the heart of why I remained clear-headed and focused even though the woman I loved more than life itself had been snatched away right at one of the most important moments of our lives.

  I was confident I'd wipe the floor with anyone who dared to stand between us.

  This wasn't merely cockiness, although I most certainly am a cocky bugger at times, no, this was something else, something new. It had grown over the last year, settling into my system, expanding my magic, my senses, my ability to use my brain instead of just blasting, and much of it was down to the vampires.

  After the dust settled when we returned home and word inevitably got out about what had gone down, there was the obligatory visit, a.k.a. summons from Oskari, Vampire Head, and it had gone better than expected. We'd assumed he'd be out for my blood, maybe all of ours, but it wasn't the case at all. Everyone believed he knew damn well what his maker had been up to, that he'd played a part in trying to entrap me, gave the green light for his maker to get me out of the way. It couldn't have been further from the truth.

  The man had gone rogue, formed his own band of maverick vampires and was systematically turning people vampire for cash. Once the full extent of the number of people he'd turned became apparent, a veritable nest of them discovered in the countryside, Oskari lost the plot. He rained down bloody hell on those involved, destroyed many of them, and although unable to kill his maker, he had a reason to cut ties completely and that's what he did.

  Oskari proved himself a capable Head once more, so different to the others, and it was obvious he was troubled by his maker's actions. Not out of any sense of compassion for yours truly, but because his maker had blown the lid on what had always been a very secretive yet lucrative way the vamps earned their money.

  The exposure put him in a bad position. If he stood behind his maker it made him guilty by association, and he couldn't have that. So he distanced himself, cleaned house, and Kate and I were off the hook. It probably didn't hurt that Dancer was involved, and that the scheme had obviously been going on for so long, but it put an end to what could have been a drawn out series of attacks and counterattacks between vampires and humans.