Chapter 15- Taz
A WEEK GOES by in peace, with Luther and me going on coffee dates and occasionally having sex.
It’s a good time dating him, and any awkwardness about almost touching the Other Side is pushed away for now.
I’m not letting any disagreements ruin the best relationship I’ve ever had.
Serious debates are for later; right now, we’re having fun, still growing together as boyfriends.
I’ve never been in love before, but the way he makes me feel has me thinking we’re in it for the long haul.
It isn’t long before SPELL calls me in for another mission.
Dark magic in line with cultist activity is detected in another part of Louisiana, and Necia, Max, and the other agents are busy on other missions.
That’s how Luther and I end up trudging through yet another swampy forest. It’s a different part of Louisiana than the last time we were here, which means we didn’t eradicate the last of the Cult of the Unheard in this area.
When I gaze at Luther, he shoots me that handsome, shy smile. He must know that I recall how far we’ve come since the previous outing of tracking dark mages in Louisiana. It seems like a lifetime ago, and I’m thankful we’re no longer antagonistic.
We’re trying to be professional during SPELL stuff, but I can’t resist the urge to reach for his hand. I give it a squeeze, and he squeezes me as well for a few seconds before we reach a hilly ridge, and I have to let go.
“Is creepy forest like, the only place these fuckers can do their thing?” I ask facetiously.
He chuckles. “I know, right? But I’m glad that they’re not doing this in front of lots of mortals. Imagine if they did cult shit in, like, a crowded apartment?”
“I’d expect us to launch even more foggy perimeters.
” We both laugh softly as we make our way through the trees.
The ground is dry and riddled with leaves despite the spring air.
The setting sun covers us in shadows, and I hope we can take care of business before it becomes pitch black. “How much farther?”
“A quarter-mile north,” Cleo says in my earpiece. I’m still getting used to having one of these in my ear. “But I don’t see any buildings or old churches on my map.”
“So they’ve erected some sort of off-grid altar, you think?” Luther asks.
I snicker. “Erected.”
“You’re insufferable,” Luther replies through a titter.
“You like it.”
“Keep it in your pants, boys,” Cleo quips.
My smile falls when I remember SPELL is listening.
While there are no Union rules against us dating―I’m not even an official agent―he and I aren’t particularly public.
And we also need to focus, even though all I want to do is flirt with Luther.
“This might mean they have an outdoor altar, or some other activity.”
“So, we need to stay sharp,” Luther replies.
“We know they’re using dark magic and human sacrifices, but they’re also not above using firearms,” Cleo points out.
Luther and I share a grimace as we march onward; we can’t block bullets with magical means. Sure, we could stem the bleeding from nonfatal gunshot wounds, but no one wants to go through that. Cleo has reminded me of the gravity of being an agent of SPELL.
“Any other specifics so we know what we’re searching for?” I ask.
“You’ve seen these guys in action,” Cleo replies. “You know what to look for.”
“But they’re different every time. How will we know―”
My words are cut off by Luther’s hand on my chest. He’s stopped, and I track his gaze. Several yards before us, there’s a clearing, and right in the center stands a hooded figure, unmoving.
I shake my fingers, and my nose wrinkles at the stench of dark magic. “We got visual,” I whisper.
“Shit. How many? Do they have a gauntlet piece?” Cleo asks.
Luther says nothing as he slowly steps forward, and I follow his lead. He gradually raises his hands and pulls magic in from the setting sun. The purple-cloaked figure doesn’t seem to notice us, and the sky above him crackles with magic.
Luther nods at me, and I know it’s game time. He steps forward and announces, “Freeze! We’re with SPELL, put your hands up.”
The figure turns his head halfway to us to reveal an almost manic grin. The young bloke with blond hair appears to be about my age, but I can’t see anything else under the robe. “You must be the wizard cops,” he says in a scratchy tone.
Luther and I share fearful looks. We approach the hooded figure, and I have half a mind to bind him up in magic immediately. When we get closer, the sight has me frozen in my tracks.
He’s equipped with half a gauntlet, but that’s not the frightening part. With the gauntlet in his right, he’s using the golden metal to pierce his left wrist. Blood gushes out, and my breath catches.
“Blood magic,” I whisper. It’s the worst of the worst. When a mage sacrifices their own blood, they can accomplish the most powerful spells.
Their sacrifice can warp reality, and devastate it as well.
“Mate, we need to get you to a hospital!” I say, trying to reason with the cultist. “Whatever the cult is tasking you with, it will end in ruin.”
He doesn’t stop, and I share a fearful look with Luther. “Desist and put your hands up, I say!” Luther announces. His hands glow, but the cultist continues to cut himself and bleed.
“Luther,” I say with urgency.
He nods at me, then, in a blur, he binds the guy’s hands with orange magic. His hands are spread wide, one bloody, and one with half a gauntlet.
Before we can claim victory, the air crackles with magic again. I gasp in horror at the next sight. The blood dripping from the man doesn’t fall down to the ground―it floats upward toward the magic in the air.
The man grins with blood between his teeth. The gauntlet bursts into flickering bits of gold flying around us in a whirlwind. His voice is inhuman when he whispers, “She hears us…she…hears us…”
The blood and gold coalesce into one jagged line in the clouds.
“It’s…it’s…” I can’t even finish my sentence as I attempt to interpret what I see.
“Guys, I’m detecting Other Side activity over there!” Cleo panics in our ears. “We don’t have any records of rifts in that location.”
“We got another potential rift opening,” Luther says.
If we had any doubt it was the Other Side, a white octopus-type creature with several eyes squeezes out of the sky. “And a special delivery!” I shout in my earpiece.
The monster, several feet in length, floats out. Like a demonic bubble, it gradually falls on top of me, and I’m frozen in fear. Before the thing can engulf me, it bounces off an orange wall before my eyes.
To my right, Luther has his hands directed at me. He protected me, and now the monster is flailing about on the ground. The thing with six-plus eyes skitters into the woods, and Luther takes off after it.
Finally finding my wits, I dash toward it as well, only to pause when Luther puts his hand out.
“Stay here!”
“What?!” I yelp.
“I have the binder’s jar. I’ll take care of this!”
“Luther, what about―”
“Secure the gauntlet!” To my left, the cultist lies limp on the floor, presumably in a puddle of his own blood. “Check if the perp is alive, and secure the relic! Be careful!” Luther hollers.
With that, he’s running in the woods after a white octopus beast. Once again, I’m relegated to the sidelines. I want to help my boyfriend wrangle the threat, but securing the gauntlet is important. After sighing in frustration, I walk toward the limp body in the center of the clearing.
Stepping around the puddle of blood, I grimace. “What do you see?” Cleo asks.
“Scars all over his body like last time. But no gauntlet.” His wrist―the one with no blood―is barren.
After I touch his neck for four seconds, I frown. “And no pulse either. Fuck.”
“Another dead wizard already?” Cleo asks.
“Could have been a mortal infused with arcana. Who knows.”
“And the gauntlet is gone?”
“Yes. It appeared to have dissolved as part of this dark spell.”
“According to Girish’s research, le gantelet des ténèbres can’t be destroyed, only change form.”
I stand up and wipe my hands on my trousers. “Well, lovely. Then it changed form and up and left us. Luther, how are you doing?”
“Almost…rggg…got it wrapped up…” he says, his voice filled with struggle.
“I’m coming to help you! Let me―”
That’s the last I remember before a gold light flies into my chest, knocking me down into the leaves.
I’m standing in a purple void. Islands of rocks float around me, with vines jutting out in every direction.
“You…are a wizard of much skill.” The hissing, high-pitched whisper seems to come from everywhere all at once.
“What?” I ask.
“You seek your brother.”
My eyebrows rise, and I spin around. I’m not in the forest, and nothing around me makes sense. When I stop, a person is standing before me.
Vikrum!
My brother has his eyes closed, and he looks exactly how he did all those years ago. “Vik…Vik!” I say.
I reach for him, but he grabs my wrist. When he opens his eyes, they’re inky black, filled with demonic energy.
“What…what?”
“I hear the unheard,” the voice in the sky says. “Now, with my gauntlet, complete the ritual.”
My hand burns, and I fall to my knees. This demonic version of Vikrum says nothing as he instills pain into my body. “Your brother will return. Use my gauntlet.”
“What?!” My brother’s face is so close to mine. I need him back in my life, but not like this.
“Use…it…”
I look around for the voice, but I see nothing. The next thing I realize, Vik pushes my chest with his other hand. The supernatural force launches me back several feet, and my back is dragged across the stony ground.
After blinking, I open my eyes to see an ordinary sunset sky. The trees around me remind me I’m in Louisiana. “Taz! Taz!” Luther appears above me with a panicked look on his handsome face.
“Wha…what?” I look up at my hands. One of my wrists was burning two seconds ago. I saw Vikrum…
“Are you okay?”
I clear my throat. “I gotta stop ending up on my back in front of you, Lulu.” Luther grins, and I continue, “Well, maybe not all the time.”
“Well, Taz is back,” Cleo says in an unimpressed tone in my ear. Luther helps me up, and Cleo continues, “You were out cold for a minute. What happened?”
“Not sure.” I dust off my back. Yards away, the cultist’s body lies in his blood. “Shit. That guy…”
“Dead,” Luther says.
“The rift?”
“Gone.”
“And the monster?”
Luther pats his pocket. “Secure. But how are you?”
“I’m basically okay.” I glance at my palms again. “I think I just need to sleep it off. Mission accomplished?”
“Well, we lost the gauntlet,” Luther says. He holds me close as we walk back.
“I theorize the cultist teleported it away. I’ll send a clean-up crew,” Cleo says.
“And we’re getting you home to rest,” Luther says. His tone leaves little room for argument, but his concern for me is touching. He squeezes my shoulder as we walk, and I want to cuddle into him.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I say, limping along. What a weird dream that was…
That night, the day’s events replay in my mind as I try to sleep in the comfort of my own bed. Once I start dreaming, an inhuman voice echoes through my mind. “You…will be heard.”
I shift in my sheets, and my wrist burns.
“You…will be heard…now rise, my follower.”
The pain overwhelms me, blasting me into wakefulness.
“Agh!” Bolting upright, I hyperventilate. When I recall I’m safe at home, I feel my bare chest. The room is dark, and everything seems in order.
But my right arm feels heavier. When I turn on the light, a gasp escapes my lips.
I’m wearing a piece of le gantelet des ténèbres.
The next evening, I’m at my bookshop desk perusing through as many magical history books as I can. It’s a slow day, with hardly any customers, and the agents of SPELL don’t need me right now. So I’m able to do my own research.
That voice…Vik…and now I have a piece of the gauntlet.
Each of my books details experiments with the Other Side.
This gauntlet could be, no, definitely is the key to opening a portal.
I have geo arcanum and enough magical skills to temper the potential instability of the portal.
Still, the High Council would lose their minds if they heard about what I’m even considering.
They don’t know I have a piece of the gauntlet. I didn’t ask for it, but it’s here, in my bedroom, in my possession.
Yet, when I think about entering the Other Side of my own volition, all to save my brother, I picture one face, and I stop. Luther would be furious, but also disappointed. I might break his heart. Do I really need to choose between my boyfriend and possibly rescuing my brother?
I close the books and sigh. It just isn’t fair. Maybe I need to do what I need to do to fix my life again, and that means using this dark relic. All good things come with risks, right?
Before I can go upstairs, Luther’s name pops up on my cell. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he says over the phone. “What did you end up doing tonight?”
Gazing around the shop, I reply, “Just catching up on books and inventory.”
“Ah. Well, I wanted to call and say I’m so sorry I had to cancel our date night. My mom needed help moving her stuff, and…”
“Don’t sweat it,” I say with a smile. “I can’t occupy all your time.”
“I know. I was just looking forward to dinner and a movie at your place.”
I snicker. “You can’t get enough of me, can you?”
He pauses, then I can almost hear his smile when he replies, “Honestly? Facts. I really do enjoy spending time with you.”
My smile falls. “I do, too. Look, babe, I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll have our time together, I promise.”
“I promise, too. I’m committed to balancing our relationship with work. Unless you think I’m smothering you!”
I laugh softly. “No such thing, Luther Westbrook.”
“Goodnight, Taz Devries.”
“Night.” After I hang up, the silence is deafening.
Alone. I’m alone in my bookshop, like I often am. But Luther makes me feel less alone. We fought as kids, but now we’re together. He makes me feel like a priority. He takes away my loneliness.
Is he worth potentially losing if I travel into this dark dimension?