The Mage in Black (15 page)

“How was I supposed to know you’d ask a stupid one?”

“Children,” Rhea said, stepping between us. “Let’s not focus on the negative. Sabina successfully summoned a Count of Irkalla without incident. I’d say this lesson was a success.”

Success, my ass, I thought. Sure, I’d managed to summon and send away a demon, but I’d also embarrassed myself. Not knowing the protocol and unwritten rules frustrated me. Magic was a new world to me, and I felt like a stranger in a strange land. I didn’t like it at all. My rational side told me experience would teach me these things, and experience was gained by making and learning from mistakes. But the impatient, inner-critic side—far stronger than the rational most days—was already busy with the beatdown. How could I be so stupid? I spent years learning to be an assassin. I’d paid my dues and prided myself on my skills. I wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears mage. I was an ass-kicking vampire with five decades behind me. I should have known better than to make a mistake like that. The fact I had very little experience with magic didn’t matter. I expected myself to do better. And the prospect of making more mistakes as the training continued made me feel like a balloon filled to bursting.

“Sabina?” Rhea said. “What’s going on in that head of yours? You look like you’re ready to kick someone’s ass.”

Yeah, I thought. My own.

I shrugged. “I was just going back over what happened. Next time, I’d appreciate a little warning about what to expect.”

Rhea smiled. “How will you learn if I spoon-feed you everything? Learning is done best by doing.”

“But I screwed up.”

She tilted her head. “No, you didn’t. Screwing up would have been getting us all killed. No, you learned something. That’s never a mistake.”

“But you could have just told me—”

She waved a hand. “Sabina, let’s clear one thing up from the beginning. I’m not here to hold your hand and ease you into mage life. This here’s a magical boot camp. You’re going to make mistakes. Get used to that right now. But I guarantee you’ll never make the same mistake twice. So quit beating yourself up for not knowing everything. I don’t expect it, and neither should you.”

I nodded, but inside, every fiber of my being argued she was wrong. Fifty-three years of being told I had to be faster, smarter, and better than the average vampire didn’t go away overnight. My grandmother had drilled the quest for perfection into me from infancy. The granddaughter of the Alpha Dominae could never settle for average. Add my mixed blood to that equation and I had even less leeway. If I wanted respect and acceptance, I had to prove myself.

But Rhea was right about one thing; I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“I think that’s enough for one evening,” Rhea said. “Tomorrow night we’ll get started on harnessing your Chthonic powers. Good work.”

I nodded and headed for the door. Giguhl joined me in the hall. “Giguhl, I want you to give me a crash course in demons.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

I nodded. “If I’m going to be summoning them, I better start learning more about how you guys tick, right?”

Giguhl nodded absently. “Sabina, you do understand you’re not going to learn everything about demons overnight, right? I don’t even know everything, and I’ve been one for half a millennia.”

I slapped him on the back. “I guess we better get started, then.”

W
e ran into Maisie on the way back down to our rooms. Giguhl was busy chattering away about the complex structure of demon government as we walked back. Maisie exited the council chamber with a worried frown on her face and didn’t notice us at first.

“Hey, Maisie,” I called in greeting. She startled but quickly erased the frown lines from between her eyes.

“How’d training go?” She was smiling now but still seemed distracted.

I sighed. “Rhea certainly has some interesting teaching methods.”

Maisie caught the sarcasm and frowned. “But you’re making progress, right?” Her urgent tone told me she was worried about my answer. I tried to figure out her angle. Obviously, Maisie believed there was a direct link between my magic training and her prophecy that I was the Chosen. Of course she’d want me to learn quickly. Especially if the council was getting closer to a vote on the war.

“I guess so,” I said, wanting to be positive but not overstate things. I didn’t like the idea of Maisie or anyone else pinning hopes on me.

Maisie relaxed a fraction. “I want to hear all about it, but I’m on my way to a meeting with a diplomat from Queen Maeve’s court.”

I perked up. The mention of the Queen of the Fae made me think of Adam.

I wanted to stop her and ask if she’d had any word from him. I told myself this was mere curiosity over how his mission was going, but I knew better. I missed him. As a friend, of course. We’d spent so much time together over the last several weeks, I’d grown used to having him around. That was all. But after the way Maisie had given me the third degree about Adam the other night, I didn’t want to encourage her.

“Is everything okay?” I asked instead.

Maisie shrugged. “As good as can be expected with the council at each other’s throats. Now I have to go talk to the fae delegate and explain to them why we’re no closer to a vote. The queen won’t be pleased.” She glanced at her watch. “I really need to get going. Let’s chat later about your training, okay?”

I nodded absently as she hurried down the hall. As much as I didn’t want to get involved with politics, I was concerned about the outcome of the council’s vote. Despite Maisie’s prophecy, I still believed there had to be another solution. Maisie, however, didn’t have that luxury of waiting and seeing what happened. I might bitch and moan about having to learn magic and deal with Maisie and Rhea’s theories about the prophecy, but I didn’t have a fraction of the pressure Maisie was facing. The council relied on her visions to make decisions, and they relied on her diplomatic skills to keep their allies happy. Judging from the tense set of her shoulders as she walked away, those pressures weighed heavily.

“Hey, Maisie?” I called after her.

She stopped and turned, looking harried. “Yeah?”

“Good luck.”

Her face brightened with surprise. “Thanks.” She waved and hurried off.

I turned to find Giguhl watching me with an assessing look.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said, but obviously he was reading into the exchange I’d just had with my sister.

I was just fine with him holding his tongue. With that one little “good luck,” it felt like the tide shifted. I could feel the pull of the vortex, sucking me further into mage life. Every day I got more and more involved, whether I liked it or not. But I preferred to fool myself for a little longer. At least until I understood the situation a bit more. Soon enough, the day would come when the mages would force my hand and demand I openly declare my support.

“Anyway.” I changed the subject. “You were talking about the bureaucracy in Irkalla?”

He smiled knowingly but went with the non sequitur. “Oh, yeah, demons love the red tape. If they could, they’d make you wait for fifty forms in triplicate just for permission to take a crap.”

He continued to dissect demon social structure as we made our way back to Maisie’s apartment. I only half listened. In the back of my mind, I considered what would happen if the council voted for war. And as hard as I tried, I couldn’t imagine anything positive about that outcome.

*      *      *

The next night I pushed my way through the crowd gathered in Vein’s underbelly. My elbows put me at the receiving end of some insults and shoves, but I forged ahead.

Giguhl stood on one side of the pit where I’d fought Michael Romulus a few nights earlier. His scaly green chest glistened under the single lightbulb hanging from the concrete ceiling. The light illuminated the determination in his goat eyes.

I glanced to my left and saw his opponent, a smaller demon with a bat’s face and a barbarian’s body. As I watched, he spread his arms wide and emitted a high-pitched screech. I cringed and covered my ears, but everyone else went wild.

Giguhl spat in the corner, seeming unaffected by the other demon’s showboating. It was a macho side of Giguhl I’d never seen before. As far as I could tell, the fight was just about to begin.

“Oh, hell, no!” I yelled over the noise. I started pushing my way to the right, trying to reach my demon. I’d agreed to this, and even made the call to Slade to set it up, but now, watching the wild crowd and the murder in the bat demon’s eyes, I changed my mind.

“Giguhl!” I had to yell to be heard over those who felt the need to scream advice at my demon. “Giguhl!”

His head turned and he saw me. A huge smile spread over his face. “Sabina!”

I grabbed his green biceps and pulled him toward me. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you should fight.”

Giguhl snorted and gave me a friendly nudge. “Sabina, get real. I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“No, you’re not.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

I paused, trying to figure that out for myself. “Because,” I said finally.

Giguhl laughed. “Ah, you’re worried about me.”

“Am not,” I muttered.

Slade made his way through the crowd to my side. I’d managed to avoid him since we got to the bar, but now he butted in. “What’s going on?”

“He’s not allowed to fight,” I said.

Slade frowned and shook his head. “Once a challenge has been issued, the fight must proceed. It’s the third rule of Demon Fight Club.”

“Fuck the rules. He’s my demon, and I revoke permission to fight.”

“This is so embarrassing,” Giguhl said. “Stop acting like my mother.”

“What if you get hurt?”

“Sabina, I’m a five-hundred-year-old, grown-ass demon. The neighborhood I come from in Irkalla makes prison look like preschool. You think I can’t defeat a freaking Defiler demon?”

My cheeks flamed under the weight of two male stares. Of course Giguhl could hold his own. To question his ability to fight was an insult. I sighed. “Fine, but you better kick his ass. I’m not playing nursemaid if you get hurt.”

Giguhl smiled like the Cheshire cat. “Just sit back and watch the master at work.”

Confident the fight would go on, Slade walked to the center of the pit and held his hands up for silence. The crowd obeyed immediately.

“It is time to review the rules of Demon Fight Club. Rule number one?”

Everyone yelled, “You do not talk about Demon Fight Club!”

My mouth fell open. Was Slade for real with this shit?

“Two!”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess…”

The crowd shouted, “You do NOT talk about Demon Fight Club!”

“Excellent!” Slade nodded approvingly without a trace of irony. “Now for the rest. Number three: Once a challenge has been issued, the fight must proceed.” He paused to shoot me a look. My jaw clenched as I glared at him, but the unoriginal bastard wasn’t done. “Four: Only two demons to a fight. Five: No weapons, magical or mundane.”

I glanced at Giguhl. That rule must explain the brass collar around his neck. Brass dulls magic, so if a demon tried to use a spell against an opponent they’d be shit out of luck.

“Six: Once a fight begins,” Slade continued, “it must continue until someone begs for mercy.”

He paused again. The tension in the room grew, and I knew I wasn’t going to like rule number seven.

“And rule number seven is?” he said finally.

“No mercy!” The crowd really let loose then. All around, money exchanged hands as mages, vamps, and fae placed bets on the outcome. Looked like the crowd was favoring Bat Face in three-to-one odds.

Out of nowhere, the bell rang. My heart skipped a beat, and I grabbed Giguhl by the biceps.

“Giguhl, it’s not too late to back out.”

He looked down at me. “You heard the rules, Sabina. Now watch and learn.”

With that, he jogged to the center of the ring to meet his foe. He bobbed and weaved as he went, like a demonic Rocky Balboa. I just prayed the Defiler demon’s dirty appearance wasn’t an indication of his fighting style.

The Defiler demon came out of the corner like an angry bull, heading straight for Giguhl’s midsection. Surprisingly agile given his size, Giguhl jumped out of the way. The Defiler’s momentum carried him right past and straight into the crowd, toppling a few mancies in the process. Giguhl threw his arms in the air and jogged in place, much to the crowd’s delight. He ate up their attention, which, unfortunately, distracted him from his opponent.

“Giguhl, watch out!” I yelled. He didn’t turn around in time to get out of the Defiler’s way and ended up being knocked back twenty feet. The crowd finally caught on to the danger of being so close to the action. Everyone backed up a few steps, widening the circle.

The impact didn’t faze Giguhl. He jumped up with a cocky smile. The Defiler responded with a lightning-fast volley of punches and kicks. The force of the attack knocked Giguhl to the ground. This time he rose more slowly. A stream of black blood dripped from his mouth.