Sterling (Mageri Series: Book 1), page 14
“This is where we study; we have a history and you need to know not only where you came from but our laws.” Justus paced in front of his bookshelf with his arms crossed.
I stepped over to the fireplace and ran my finger along the wooden shelf mounted above it, which held a large series of thick books. My God, did he expect me to read all of those? The hell I will.
I loved to read but some of those monstrosities looked like they alone could be used as a weapon.
“Ouch!”
The wood plank used in the shelving was not polished down and a splinter—just the tiniest little sliver—went into my finger. I squeezed the tip painfully as it turned red and a small droplet of blood appeared. When my thumb brushed over it I hissed through my teeth. The splinter was still in there.
“Here let me see.” Justus said with disdain. “Hold very still.” His focus was concentrated and he held my hand using the very tips of his fingers to feel where it was. I winced again and he reached into his pocket pulling out one of those handy little knife survival things that has everything from a screwdriver to a set of jumper cables. With a tiny set of tweezers, the little spear, which impaled my finger, was plucked free. “There.”
“How can something so small hurt that much?”
“Because size doesn’t matter?” He gave a sideways smirk and leaned up against the stone wall.
With a heavy groan, I plopped down on the leather chair. “Alright Ghuardian, teach me.”
If I didn’t know better I would have sworn I saw flecks of light dance in his eyes.
I studied for hours. We started out with basic 101 Mage history. We didn’t work magic or sorcery, not exactly. Our kind had been around for centuries and while nobody knew their beginnings, they remained secretive among humans in the latter centuries. Humans that discovered their abilities grew jealous, while others fabricated false rumors. Humans sought out to find Mage and other Breed and staged executions in manners that would guarantee their death. Often anyone suspected of alchemy or witchery was arrested. Justus confirmed we weren’t the only preternatural brings, but this was a later lesson. Yes, save all the good stuff for last.
Each Mage has common abilities. Flashing involves riding the energy and moving at high rates of speed for short distances. We can also sense time and direction; we are able to heal; and flaring…well I couldn’t quite grasp that.
“The only way I can explain it, Learner, is think of it like heavy cologne.”
“You’re comparing our aura to stinky cologne?” The air was chilly and I held my hands over my arms.
“In public places, your shield naturally goes up as a defense mechanism to protect your light by concealing it. But to conceal entirely in a human dwelling or establishment is a threatening gesture. We must make our presence known by occasionally leaking out our energy. The idea is that if you conceal while another does not, he is vulnerable and you are the threat because your motives become questionable. To avoid confrontation, we flare—allowing our bodies to release energy every so often to announce our presence. It’s like shooting off a flare, or waving a flag. If you pick up another Mage, it is customary to seek them out and give introductions.”
Justus slid down in his leather chair with his legs spread open and pulled the zipper of his hoodie down a few inches. The fireplace only had one log burning but there was a comfortable heat that was beginning to build in the room. “It is not necessary in places where Breed congregate.”
“So that’s all we can do?”
He half smiled. “Not quite. Each Mage is born into their light with special abilities. Some have one, some have several.”
“Such as what?” I slid back on the sofa noticing how ultra soft it was for leather and pulled a pillow underneath my arm. I later found a furniture catalogue in a drawer with that exact sofa—and the price was listed at fifty thousand.
“Jumpers can ride the channel, like flashing, except against gravity. The distance of jumpers is longer, and is not unlike the concept of teleportation. Thermals, well…they have a gift with temperature. There are also different types of Mentalists: those who can send thoughts, those who can only receive them when called upon, and those who can do both. Then there are Creators which are very rare and given special exceptions within the Mageri as it is within their power to retain the lineage.”
He leaned over and took a sip of water, setting the glass back down on the end table. “You can see why some are feared, there are a number of abilities out there, probably more than we even know of. Some gifts you cannot conceal, and it is within your right to do so. Only the Council and Mageri are required to know your gifts. Some of them we don’t know everything about because most of us prefer not to elaborate, it could be a weakness for others to know your limitations.”
“So, what can I do?” I asked.
“Annoy?”
I gave him a hurt look.
Justus pulled the tip of his hoodie over his eye and lowered his voice. “It remains to be seen; sometimes it takes years to uncover abilities.”
“Maybe I can’t do anything.”
His blue eyes flashed up to mine. “Learner, we are all gifted.”
I was given a book to read, and found it thoroughly interesting and yet simultaneously boring. I felt like I was in school all over, I hated studying. After lying on the sofa and finishing up three quarters of a volume on Mage wars (ugh, you really don’t want to know), I glanced up at the bookshelf teeming with books, and deflated. Justus was totally in his element being the instructor, whether it was tutoring my mind or my body. And neither in a way that felt good.
I closed my eyes and thought of what it must have been like back in the 15th century to be one of us. There were no advances in science and technology, and fear begat hatred. To be hunted down, stripped of your rights, accused of things you could not prove in a court of law to be innocent of. You could not disappear in a city like you can in today’s world. No wonder they came together to form their own social structure separate from humans.
Justus mentioned healing but it hadn’t quite sunk in that I was now immortal. My life was renewable as it was constantly absorbing energy and rejuvenating back to its original state. I had a core light within me that couldn’t be snuffed out so easily. I couldn’t starve to death or even be beaten to death as long as that core light existed within me. Oh we can die, the younger ones are especially more susceptible to death because we are not as strong to fight back. Who knew, and all this time I thought vampires had dibs on that.
I took a long nap and when I awoke, I drifted into the dining room and found a plate of leftovers with a note.
Learner, I am out for a while.
Be ready at 6am, sharp.
Eat. Try to keep it off the wall this time.
I wadded up the note and tossed it at the kitchen door. Lifting the tin I stared at the ribs, warm and freshly glazed. Dinner was always a social occasion with Adam; we never went to our corners or ate alone. There were really nice conversations between us and I missed having the companionship. I bet Justus had plenty of company, I was imagining him racing up to the nearest bar in his sporty little ‘size doesn’t matter’ car.
I get to be locked up in a dungeon doing sit-ups all day while he’s out getting his freak on. Is this the life I signed up for?
After wandering around the house and snooping through drawers, I went into my room and flipped on my music player, listening to a favorite song. The house was so quiet the noise was a welcomed relief and I danced, rolling my hips while I went through my bag. I didn’t see any signs of air-conditioning but he had ventilation going on somehow. It was cooler than I’d prefer, and if the fireplace was the only source of warmth, winter was going to be unpleasant.
I flung a shirt to a chaise lounge chair and backed up to the beat of the song. I used to think going to the club with Sunny was getting played out, but now I would trade anything to go out for a night of dancing and fun. I swung my hips and as I strutted across the floor, I swiveled right into Justus.
My face heated with surprise and I pulled the earbuds out. “What are you doing in here?”
His hands fell on my shoulders to steady me and I clutched his chest to keep from falling. I dropped them, but his hands lingered and he moved them slowly down my arm. It was the first time I really felt him, not physically but something else. The energy was something extrasensory; nothing sexual or dangerous about it. Just an imprint that was unique to him much in the same way that someone has a smell, or the sound of their voice.
“What is that I feel?” I leaned in closer.
“That’s me, Learner. You feel me.”
Justus was pulsing on my skin like a heartbeat through his hands.
“How come I didn’t feel this before?”
His breath and voice softened and his eyes glazed as they lowered to my neck. “You’re shields are down and you are open to it, and because I’m letting you. You need to recognize your Ghuardian’s light.”
It dawned on me that I was standing there in my panties so I pushed him away. He stepped forward and as our bodies grew closer, the heat took away the chill…hell it obliterated it. He shut his eyes as if concentrating and let out a heavy sigh.
“Why do you not yield to me?”
“Are you trying to seduce the Learner? Because that was not in the brochure.” I folded my arms but I knew better, his tone wasn’t a man beckoning a lover to bed but one of frustration for not having an answer to something else.
“That’s not how I meant it.”
“Maybe your trick doesn’t work on others like us.”
He laughed. “Oh but it does.”
“What did you come in here for, I thought you were out?”
“I brought you these. You need suitable attire. I’ll leave them here. Your plate is on this table and I want you to eat. Goodnight.”
He stepped out the door and I looked down and saw several large bags. Bending over I lifted the edge of one bag so I could peer inside. It was filled with dresses, shoes, blouses and baubles.
Justus had spent the evening shopping for me.
Chapter 17
4 months later.
Justus straddled me with a blade cutting into my neck. “Better, Learner. Again.”
I lifted my head and pulled up to my feet, legs slightly spread apart, one hand was behind my back, and the other palm down. I waited for the anticipation of movement; he moved and I vaulted over him landing on the other side. When his body spun around, we stared off again, watching closely at subtle hints to pick up a sense of potential direction. Justus was teaching me about what the eyes tell, the position of the hands and feet, and even the lean of the body.
The training sessions had become my favorite time of the day. I was very pleased to find that I actually had skills, or at least potential. We did not have extraordinary strength, but we could utilize our abilities in a fight to gain the upper hand making strength irrelevant…to a degree.
The only problem was he wasn’t teaching me how to fight.
Justus was teaching me self-defense until I learned to master it. It became pretty clear I was living with a caveman who believed that men were the protectors and women had no business learning how to fight. He taught me some basic moves but he treated me differently.
I learned how to feel out the other person—to find out what made them tick—look for repeated patterns in their fighting in order to gain the element of surprise. He often compared sparring to a mental battle, making sure to teach me to always keep my wits about me and look for signs of weakness in the other. And it was a challenge each and every day to find some way to stomp his ass to the ground. While I knew I would never best him it didn’t stop me from giving it my all.
His leg swiftly moved beneath mine and I lost my balance momentarily before I spun away and propelled myself to his left. In a flash I moved back to face him—he wouldn’t have expected that because that was not my usual move. Justus would have expected me to fake him out by going to his right. But I had caught him off guard and thrust my open palm to his chest.
It was a fluid motion; in the four months of training I learned how to become a current. Justus said I needed to get over my inertia, to accept the fact that I could move with the current of kinetic energy by flashing. It should only last a period of seconds or it would otherwise drain you. Basically, I could move like a ninja on speed. It’s not like I could zip on over to Canada and back in an hour, it didn’t work that way because your energy would be spent.
But I could at the very least cross the street faster than any known pedestrian.
Of course there were rules; there were always rules. I was not to use (or abuse) my abilities carelessly. With cameras everywhere, it was a risk and Breed did not expose themselves to humans. Justus said it was easier when they had insiders who worked for law enforcement who always kept their ears open and would destroy any evidence of Breed. But now with all the new technology of cameras in cell phones, anything could be recorded and uploaded to the internet. So they also had to branch off with serious computer geeks who knew how to hack into a site and take down these videos, or spread a rumor they are doctored if they had already gone viral.
Videos and photos could be easily manipulated so most people didn’t believe what they saw anyhow, but it was still a conscious effort every Breed made to ensure that they were not outed. I wasn’t surprised to find the government knew about us, but even they were not stupid enough to expose the Breed.
The fighting did not come so naturally, I was still learning defense but while watching him I tried to mimic some of his hand-to-hand combat techniques.
Whenever I did, it pissed him off.
“Why do you keep fighting me?” he yelled, snatching my wrist.
“Because that is the point! I don’t understand what you’re trying to teach me, if I am not able to get away I need to learn how to fight back and win.”
Justus was irritated, mostly because he knew I was right.
“You do not have to be the strongest or most skilled fighter to win. You tap into your source and ride it, trust it, then you have the advantage.”
I wiped some blood from my lip. “Win. You say this but you’re not teaching me how to win, you’re only teaching me how to dodge a punch. Why don’t you teach me how to use one of those,” I said nudging my head to his blade.
He sheathed it and placed it back on the wall, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm.
“Because you cannot learn to use a blade until you properly learn to dance with one. Once you understand how it moves, how it is used, you can disarm your enemy.”
“Care to dance?”
Justus whirled around and shredded me apart with those eyes.
“Do not continue provoking me, Learner. Remember your place.”
Our sessions had gotten physical and while we threw punches and drew blood, part of my learning was the acceptance of my immortality and ultimately, the acceptance of pain. Some of the bruises and scrapes I just had to suck up. I didn’t like the idea of borrowing from Justus all the time and God knows I never saw the light of day. I was stubborn, admittedly.
What I did know about our weapons was that a few wielded special power; some metals were forced long ago with a kind of magic. They were called stunners, and once plunged into the body of a Mage, it would paralyze them for as long as it remained.
I pushed back the pain and dropped to my knees. I had cracked a rib during the last sparring and it was starting to flare up. If Adam knew about our little death sessions in the basement, that would have been it. If he knew I spent my days getting knocked around, spitting out blood and getting chewed out by Justus I’m certain he would have killed him.
At least, that’s how I imagined it. So much time had passed that it seemed like a lifetime ago since I had seen Adam. I often wondered if he had forgotten about me.
“Allow me.” I presumed he felt guilty for some of the injuries he inflicted.
One thing I noticed was that my threshold for pain was higher—I wasn’t sure if it was enduring the repeated sensation of pain and building a tolerance or if it was something more.
The room felt stuffy and the overhead lights were irritable on my eyes. I could feel his light moving within me before it dissipated.
Pulling my ponytail tight, I took a few more shallow breaths. Justus was in his standard workout attire: black pants, tank top, and bare feet. In our sparring I found out his tribal tattoo on his arm wasn’t the only one he had. Beneath his shirt was a hollow sun with what looked more like lightning bolts than flames coming out centered on his back.
My legs jumped when a deafening buzz reverberated off the walls.
“What’s that?” I asked staring upward.
He leapt to his bare feet staring at the ceiling, a deep line forward on his brow. “Company.” And by the look on his face, he wasn’t expecting them. “Stay here, Learner.” His tone was edged with concern.
Justus disappeared up the stairs. I felt a little uneasy when a few moments later there were footsteps moving around up there and muffled voices. No one had ever come to visit. Curious, I went up the stairs as quiet as a cat, eavesdropping.
“Just stopping in to give a shout. I’m done with England, for good. Couldn’t exactly give you a ring now could I, seeing as you haven’t entered the modern era. I heard you were here so I came to see my old friend. What happened to your face, mate?”
I noticed the accent was mottled, mostly English that faded in and out. When he said the word ‘here’ it sounded more like ‘heh’.
“I thought you went home for good this time. It’s been a long while.”
“Well, Justus, that didn’t work out as well as I thought, a bit of a mistake really. I’ve been back for a few years. The last time I rang you weren’t here so I got the sense that you were on the move again.”
His voice was not as deep as Justus and a little more melodic, he put personality in his conversation, which made me believe he would be a really fun person to talk with…whoever he was.
