Chapter 17 #2
Helena asks a string of questions: How did Jackson find the cultist?
Did he get any information from him before police arrived at the scene to make the arrest?
How did he keep them there? Were any injuries sustained during the confrontation?
Why was their suspect left shivering and looking traumatized when brought into custody?
Eddie quirks an eyebrow at the last question.
Jackson struggles to hide the smirk that threatens to form from his lips.
“Shadow magic, or Umbramancy in technical terms, was the cultist’s attempted method of escape.
The shadows are where my influence is…most adept.
I’m sure you’ve heard the fairy tales, Helena.
I won’t bother you with details unless you require them for your report. ”
Helena looks up from her notes for a moment, a quick glance at the elven man before her.
“The Darkest Night, vampiric magic. Its wielder said to rule the darkest corners of our world. I’ve heard the stories, but I’ve also heard your control over your shadows has been…
questionable as of in recent decades. Though it seems rumors are just that, rumors. ”
She had done her research, Jackson expected no less from the sergeant.
He hadn’t had to offload as much mana recently.
He grows tense at the thought, the reason why his magic had finally bowed to will.
He feels his fingers curl around another’s, looking to see his hand interlocked with Eddie’s.
When had that happened? Eddie draws small circles using his thumb on the back of Jackson’s hand, looking oblivious to the act.
Jackson clears his throat, hand still intertwined with Eddie’s.
“As for your other questions, he didn’t say anything to me, nor did he have a chance.
I was a little, let’s say upset at the turn of events so I bound him fast with magic.
I gave him a…” Jackson draws out the vowel, earning a raised eyebrow stare from Helena who sits across from him.
“Less than polite warning, to stay away from my-”
Jackson cut himself off before he finishes. His what? Roommate is too casual and ‘my friend’ feels inadequate.
Rolling his shoulders back, he drags his free hand through his black hair, still a mess from waking up. “To stay away from people I care about. Hopefully that didn’t leave him unable to answer your questions when interrogated.”
Helena clicks her pen a couple times, taking down more notes on the pad in front of her. “Not at all. In fact, it seemed he was almost eager to tell us everything we wished to know. Your doing, I assume?”
“A firm suggestion.”
“Of course.”
* * *
The round of questions ends soon after it begins, hardly half an hour having passed since Sergeant Helena and Sister Estrea arrived this morning.
Sister Estrea is with Hakeem on the couch, her hand cupping his cheeks gently, her head bowed as she whispers a prayer.
A dark miasma slithers off Hakeem’s shoulders, burned by divine magic.
Jackson and Eddie nearly vault over the counter at the sight of Hakeem falling back into the couch, eyes slipping closed.
“Hold it, you two.” Helena holds up a hand, a flash of flame erupting from her palm. “That’s a good sign, it means Sister Estrea removed whatever lingering curse might have been on your friend from the encounter.”
Sister Estrea nods. “It was a minor curse, one that induced panic. It scrambles the target’s thoughts, leaving them mostly unable to cast spells.
It lingers and causes exhaustion and anxiety but has successfully been dispelled from Hakeem’s body.
He’s tired, but will otherwise make a full recovery. ”
Jackson and Eddie sigh heavily, relaxing at the news.
The tension in their shoulders melt away, hands drifting apart.
The warmth of their touch lingering between them.
Was the curse why Hakeem couldn’t fight back?
Even after granting a wish Hakeem had an arsenal of spells in the catalog of his mind.
Years of study disarmed by a low-grade curse cast by a scumbag.
Jackson walks the women out, thanking the Sister repeatedly for her care with Hakeem. One more question lingers in his mind for Helena. “Was there any updates on whether there were more cultists in the city? Do we need to be on guard?”
Helena turns to him, an exasperated sigh escaping her, “That’s the thing. He confessed everything, including his plans for Hakeem. He’s part of a small band of car thieves, they run a chop shop at the edge of the city.
“The being he bargained with was a Greed demon, wanting to expand and up their profits. They needed power for that, so Donnie was the guy offered up on a platter for the demon’s contract. He said he was scouting potential recruits to expand their operation, when he saw Hakeem.
“Djinn magic is rare and coveted, fewer than one hundred half-djinn in history. Even less is known of the rules of their magic, but that didn’t matter to him at the moment.
He saw an opportunity. It didn’t have to be Hakeem, he was just the first of what could have been many people intimidated into joining their operation.
“He’s the only one who made the bargain.
The rest of his crew has already been brought into custody, magic sealed by dampening cuffs.
To put it bluntly, Hakeem was a means to an end in the guy’s mind.
He just got really unlucky considering what you two,” she says, pointing a finger between Jackson and Eddie, “Did to protect your friend. Hakeem is lucky to have you both.”
A small-time thief looking for more. Selling his soul for power, targeting their friend out of convenience and greed.
Jackson and Eddie’s blood boil at the thought.
It’s a relief there isn’t a grander, sinister plot brewing in the underbelly of the city, but why did their friend have to get caught up in the ambitions of selfish people?
Helena places a hand on either of their shoulders, Sister Estrea flashing a kind smile and warm eyes at them both. Warmth and kindness disarm them.
“You got to Hakeem in time, the guy was caught, and his whole operation has been shut down. It’s over. It really is that simple.”
After patting both their shoulders, Helena turns to leave with Sister Estrea, who turns to give some final instructions over her shoulder, “Food, rest and water. Treat it like recovery from a bad cold, he’ll be fine before Monday.
” Eddie and Jackson thank her once more as the women turn towards the elevator.
They catch a glimpse of the moment Sergeant Soleil wraps her arm around Sister Estrea’s shoulder, pulling her close and leaning down to kiss her golden curls, the small cleric leaning into the touch.
Jackson closes the door behind him, his head falling back to press into the wood. Hakeem would be fine, it was truly over. It was an arrogant punk who wanted more and got caught, losing everything before it began.
He still hurt the one you care for. He should have paid with his life.
The voice had returned, less of a taunt more of a reprimand.
Those who dare hurt those close to you should suffer, like they did that night.
No, no Jackson can never let that night repeat itself, never again.
How easy would it have been? Your shadows ripping the air from his lungs.
“Stop it.”
Tendrils crushing ribs.
“Shut up!”
The life draining from his eyes, consumed by the dark. His screams lost to the void.
“ENOUGH!”
Jackson screams in frustration, slamming his fists into the door behind him. The lights flicker, shadows seeping out of the walls. He can feel the heat form behind his eyes, not even a day later and control was slipping again.
“Jackson,” his name sounds sweet, spoken so carefully.
Hands cup his cheeks, wiping away tears he didn’t realize had begun to spill.
“Talk to me, please.” He opens his eyes, turning his head up to face Eddie who now stood before him.
His touch grounding and gentle, when did the man instill such a reaction in Jackson?
“I’m fine, really.” It’s a half-lie, he doesn’t know what the voice means for him, or why it felt so real rather than just an echo of his mind.
“Just my thoughts spiraling to the worst case scenario.” Eddie doesn’t let go of his face, he doesn’t want to tell him to.
Large thumbs caress Jackson’s cheeks, he has to bite back a shiver that threatens to erupt from the sensation of Eddie’s touch.
“I have to stop relying on you like this.”
Eddie’s eyes are fixed to Jackson, filled with an unwavering kindness and concern. “Both of you can rely on me all you want.”
A smile warms its way across Jackson’s face, his hands clinging to Eddie’s wrists as he holds him. “Only if you rely on us in return when you need it, deal?”
The corners of Eddie’s lips turn up at the idea. “Deal.”
* * *
Jackson removes Hakeem’s glasses while Eddie positions him more comfortably on the couch. Propping a pillow under his head and draping a light blanket over Hakeem’s sleeping form, they figure it’s easier to let him sleep on the couch rather than risk waking him by moving him upstairs.
Jackson places his glasses on the coffee table and absentmindedly brushes curls that had fallen across Hakeem’s forehead from his eyes.
Jackson pulls his hand back, clutching it to his chest. He shouldn’t act so familiar, it hasn’t even been two months since they moved in together.
He doesn’t know the man well enough to be doting over him as he slept.