I was almost at the exit when a hand grabbed my wrist.
At first, I thought it was a pushy homeless person asking for money.
They do that sometimes.
So, instead of screaming my head off, like a normal woman, I used a go-away spell.
Something designed to make humans leave you alone, no matter the situation.
One of the first spells a magician learns.
But, nothing happened.
The grip around my wrist got tighter. The fingers dug into my flesh. Hurting me.
Panic surged through my body.
This shouldn’t have been possible.
At the same time my body began to feel heavy and weak. Like I’d been drugged.
“Get off me,” I said, though my voice sounded distant, like it was coming from down a very long tunnel.
I tried another spell. But, still nothing. Like a light switch had been flipped off.
“Where is it?” the man hissed.
His voice was horrible. Like nails on chalkboard.
I looked into his face and for the first time saw the person who was attacking me.
Except, he wasn’t a person at all.
He wasn’t even a human.
There were two black holes where his eyes should have been. His skin was a horrible green-grey colour. Tight against his bones.
“Where is it?” he repeated, close enough for me to smell his breath.
It smelled of death.
“Where’s what?” I said. “Let go of me!”
But the weakness was growing. I was having difficulty keeping my eyes open.
My tongue felt like a big, fat walrus laying down in my mouth.
Before I knew it, I was on the ground. The thing was on top of me. Pinning me down so hard I could barely breathe.
I was sure I was going to die.
If only I’d stayed in bed with Blake, I thought. None of this would be happening.
“Blake,” I whispered.
“Where is it?” the monster snarled. “Tell me!”
Tears started running down my cheeks.
I turned to look him in the eyes. Not that he had any. But maybe he’d believe me if he could see I really meant it.
“I don’t know,” I said, “you’ve got the wrong person!”
He made a ghastly, whistling sound.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the worst. But suddenly his hand let go of my wrist.
The weakness disappeared, and the weight that had been pinning me down vanished.
Carefully, I opened my eyes and saw the monster standing beside me, wobbling gently from side to side, his hands covering his ears.
There was a man holding him by the collar.
A huge, tall man wearing a top hat and a tuxedo. Like he was just on his way to a wedding.
Even in the rain I could see the ice blue of his eyes.
Piercing and deadly.
“Canum sali luet ria, pani rostum luet si,” he bellowed, casting a spell, “Canum sali luet ria, pani rostum luet si.”
The words kept getting faster and faster. He spoke with a powerful, rhythmic venom.
Then, in one swift movement, he punched his fist straight through the monster’s chest.
His hand came out the other side holding its heart.
I turned my head away, afraid. And when I looked back they had disappeared.
Both of them. Without a trace.
Edgar Thorn writes fast-paced
urban fantasy set in modern London, blending magic, danger, and dark humour.
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Book Reviews by the Reluctant Retiree 