Chapter Twenty-Four
Chaos started the moment Ant stepped out of the restaurant with Viktor, although it might not have been immediately apparent to anyone else. For Ant, he felt like he was being assaulted on a dozen sides at once. There were spirits yelling at him from the doorway of a building across the road. There was Able starting to bark frantically as a doubly loud explosion was heard across the entire block. But it was the cause of all the mayhem that was both the quietest and yet the most significant sound of all - the click of Viktor’s car key fob.
There was no time to react or respond. Ant’s whole body was flung back and he hit the pavement with a thud. His magic splintered under the impact, bouncing out of his body in shards, before slowly seeping back. Leaning up on his elbows, Ant shook his head, trying to clear the pain in his skull and his back. He’d landed hard and it was easy to see why.
Viktor’s immaculate black SUV was engulfed in flames. Even as he groaned, Ant recognized there must have been some powerful explosives packed underneath Viktor’s car. But before his mind could disappear down a tangent, working out how much explosive must have been used, the owner himself was there, picking him up and holding him close.
“Are you all right? Oh, gods, tell me. Are you all right?” Viktor’s chest was heaving, his hair mussed, and he had a cut down the side of his face that was slowly dripping blood onto his collar.
“I'm fine, just stunned, but I’m fine. Please put me down.” Although as soon as he said that he wished he hadn’t. Ant’s legs were shaky, and he gripped Viktor’s arm. “I must contain this blaze. I need to use my magic and contain this blaze.”
“Ant no,” Viktor yelled. “I can already hear sirens. The fire trucks are already on their way.”
Bully for you that you can hear anything. Ant’s senses were still on overload. Spirits were jabbering in his ear, people had come out of the restaurant, standing around gossiping and pointing their phones. But all Ant could focus on was the flames. At least Able had quietened down, resting against Viktor’s legs as if he knew Ant wouldn’t be able to take his weight.
“You need to sit down,” Viktor growled. “Somebody’s just tried to fucking kill us again.”
“Yeah, I think this one was for you, although it could’ve been both of us. I haven’t worked that out yet,” Ant said. “Hang on a minute. I need your energy. Let me lean on your arm.”
He pulled the shattered remnants of his magic back together. Magic was an amazingly wonderful power in that it never really dissipated. It was one of the purest sources of energy in life, and because it was an energy, it could be redirected and shaped by those who understood it.
Ant’s power, his main skill, was his ability to pick up on past energy events. It was why he could read crime scenes so accurately and why he struggled to be among crowds of people who carried so many past energies as they went about their daily living. But he was also a level twelve mage and one of the highest rated mages in the country. That meant he could direct magic as he wanted. But gods, it had been a long time since he’d had to.
His face flushed from the heat of the flames, sweat pouring down his brow, Ant flung out his arms, trusting Viktor to keep him upright. His magic still hadn’t settled, his “throw” was not as precise as he would like. But he directed the energy at the burning SUV, encapsulating it entirely in an energy bubble. As soon as he was sure all of the burning areas were contained, he started to squeeze.
That was science, not magic. Fire needed air to grow. Ant had effectively thrown a blanket on it, depriving it of the air the flames needed. It wasn’t as easy as throwing back a cover on a bed. Fire had an energy of its own and was pushing back, using the materials in the SUV, the fuel in the gas tank, and the oil in the motor to feed its power.
Every muscle in Ant’s body ached both from the fall from the blast and from the physical exertion he was putting out.
“You have to stop,” Viktor’s growl wasn’t helping. There was a part of Ant’s brain that recognized both of Viktor’s arms were holding him upright, his chest firm against Viktor’s back.
“I will not have innocents…businesses…cars…people…hurt. They won’t be caught up in this fight.” Ant kept straining, squeezing on his magic. It was akin to pushing a boulder uphill. If he didn’t keep the pressure on, Ant’s magic would explode back to him, causing more damage than the flames.
“I won’t have you hurt.”
Ant decided the growls must’ve been Viktor’s default setting – his way of dealing with stress. But the vampire held on, lending his strength, shielding Ant from nosy people who just wanted to know what was going on. I’m going to implode if I don’t get this right, that’s what’s going on, Ant thought grimly. Bridget would never forgive me if that happened. Viktor was growling, snarling, snapping at people who got to close, and Ant was so going to make him feel good when he had the energy, but for now…
“And that’s it.” Ant slumped in relief, quickly remembering to shield himself from the rush of magic that came flooding back to the source. But the fire was out, nothing but a wisp of smoke and the charred frame of Viktor’s SUV remaining. “I’m sorry, but I can’t put your car back together.”
“You’re sorry? What the fuck?”
Ant was smothered again, picked up by a vampire who was clearly at the end of his tether. But as he was crushed to Viktor’s chest, at least Ant didn’t need to face the endless questions he could hear buzzing around him from the living and dead alike. Maybe I could just stay here for a while, he thought using a tiny spark of magic to remove the blood from Viktor’s collar. He didn’t want anyone thinking his vampire was a messy eater.
“I’m going to kill them,” Viktor muttered into his hair. “I’m going to take the whole Manzano family and build a new car from their bones.”
“I’m not sure a car made like that would be structurally sound,” Ant murmured. “There are better ways of getting even.” But then he groaned. Able was barking again which could only mean one thing. The police and fire crew had finally arrived.
/~/~/~/~/
“This incident was meticulously planned.” George, the local fire investigator shook his head. “You must’ve pissed off someone big time.”
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow? I need to get Ant home. He’s been hurt and expended far too much energy doing your job.” Viktor had been saying things on a similar vein for the past hour. It had to be close to midnight, but Ant wanted to hear what George had to say.
“Please wait a moment,” he said quietly, relieved that the remaining crowd had been pushed back. “Viktor, we’ll get home soon, I promise. Could you find Able some water? He must be thirsty with all that barking he did.”
“The restaurant owner already gave him a bowl of water and a full roast meal that I paid for.” Viktor crossed his arms, clearly not planning to go anywhere.
“Sorry, George.” Ant quickly covered a yawn with his hand. “It has been a long night. Can you just give me the highlights?”
“You already know the people responsible were in and out. It was likely that someone ‘dropped’ something causing it to roll under the car, and then when the person went to retrieve it, they left the explosives there, clipping the bomb fuse to the ignition wire. For people who know what they were doing that would take less than two minutes, tops.”
Ant nodded. He’d already read the scene and committed to memory the faces of the couple who’d been responsible. He’d also left a message with the attending officer for Eric, the police sketch artist, to get in touch with him in the morning.
“I know, I know. You’ve seen it already.” George put up his hand. “But whoever set this knew Viktor’s SUV and picked it out of four other similar models parked at the same time in a two block radius. They intended to kill both driver and passenger as the bomb blast originated from the middle of the underneath of the vehicle. This is not common – most bombers in a hurry, especially in a public setting would just clip the bomb material to the side they were closest too. Just sourcing the explosives and ignition unit requires a high degree of planning as nothing like that is sold locally, and it’s not like you can buy that stuff from an online store.”
“That’s handy to know.” Ant nodded.
“The big thing – the biggest concern both me and the police have in this case – is that we were prevented from getting here quickly. This restaurant is on part of the grid road system.” George indicated the area with his hand. “We should’ve been able to get here in five minutes. But two of the fire trucks were sent out on what is now known as a bogus call twenty miles west of town. There were three – count them – three car accidents blocking the quickest roads to get here and when we finally made it to Grey Street” - he pointed to the intersection about a block from the restaurant - “there was a big assed truck parked across the road with no driver. A truck just left there for no damn reason. You were meant to die.”
Scratching the back of his head, Ant winced as he felt an egg shaped lump. “Then we should be grateful they made a mistake. Thank you, George. I appreciate your hard work. I’ll let you get on and look forward to a copy of your report.” Then he had a quick thought. “Can you send it later in the day please? I’d rather explain this to Bridget in person than have her read your email.”
“Smart move,” George grinned and nodded. And then he frowned. “What do you mean the bombers made a mistake? You’ve still got to get a cab home.”
“They connected the ignition wire for the bomb to the unlock mechanism,” Ant said simply. “If they wanted to do a decent job of blowing us up, instead of just the vehicle, then they should’ve attached that wire to the starter motor. For all that planning, it was sloppy execution.”
“That’s enough! I’ve heard enough!” Suddenly Ant found himself hoisted up and pressed against Viktor’s shoulder, his feet swinging in the breeze. “Send your reports via email. My mate and I need to have a little chat. Able, come.”
“Thank you,” Ant called out. Clearly Viktor was heading for a taxi parked just down the road. As tired as Ant was, being carried beat walking.