Death and Domain - Chapter 19

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I couldn't even look into Mr. Borgin's mocking eyes. Instead, I re-holstered my wand, pulled two knuts from my already depleting money purse, and tossed them over the counter. "For your troubles, Mr. Borgin."

Then I turned around and strode out of the store.

"I'll keep the change!" he yelled at my back, followed by another bout of laughter.

The door closed behind me and I pulled the cowl of my cloak over my head. I didn't even look around, just chose a random direction and started walking. Was it a curse? Passed down from father to son? Or a magical disease or accident, or an inherent trait of the Princes? Thoughts race through my head, every option, every possibility.

Did it mean that I could, in fact, beat the shit out of Flavius? That was good news, at least.

With my mind occupied, I nearly bumped into someone as I turned the first corner from the store, and I reeled back in surprise. Strong arms grabbed me by the shoulders, steadying me in place.

"Easy there, little friend," a man said.

I looked up from my stupor, finding a man and a woman looking back at me.

The man who held me looked amicable enough, a bit on the shorter side with a clean-shaven face and a crooked smile, wearing a tan trench coat and bowler hat that wouldn't be out of place in a mafia movie.

The woman though… for a moment I thought she had to be one of the famed Veela of the Harry Potter world. Tall, slender, hair styled in a half up braid that still let her ink-black locks down to her shoulders. Like a princess out of the stories, even wearing a purple evening gown underneath a heavy cloak.

In the back of my mind, something about the way they stared at me prickled me the wrong way, but I tried not to show my discomfort in my face.

I gave the man an easy nod. "Thanks."

Then I made to walk around him, only to realize I couldn't move. His hands held me in place just for being around me, and I could tell he wasn't even trying to secure me. The man was that strong.

My muscles tensed as I readied to spring into action. For what, I didn't know. If he was strong enough to do that, and most likely had a wand with him, he had every advantage going for him. But I was never the type to go down easy in a fight. I had surprises of my own.

"Oh, right, sorry about that," the man said, quickly letting go of me and patting me on the shoulder. He actually looked apologetic, which made some of my tenseness recede from me.

Beside him, the woman rolled her eyes. "You're wasting my time again," she said, and her voice was as beautiful as her face. She could have a sailor jumping overboard into a stormy sea with one word. "Either feed on the boy and get done with it, or let us just go already."

The spell broke. "What?" the words were out of my mouth before I realized. When she said feeding, did she mean… My shoulders stiffened. Whatever momentary relief I got evaporated in a second and I took an instinctive step back.

As if he could read my thoughts, the man held both hands in front of him. "Easy now. No need to worry about that," he said with a smile. "Just admiring the bit of magic you have going on here. Really ingenious, if I may say."

There was a moment of confusion, then my eyes widened as I realized why I'd been bothered by how they stared at me. They weren't looking into Flavius' eyes. They were looking into mine. Down here beneath my projected body suit, and they could only do that if they could see beneath the enchantment.

For the first time, the beautiful woman fully turned my way, sharp emerald eyes glancing up and down my body as if I were a piece of meat. "It's… passable," she declared.

The man raised an eyebrow, then shook his head and chuckled. "I'd take that compliment home and sleep with it, kid," he said. "Haven't heard many of those from her."

The woman snorted, turning up her nose at the both of us.

How could she make even a snort sound sexy?

She fixed her cloak over her shoulders and turned away. "I don't want to spend any more time than needed in this dirty country. Either come or don't."

"Yes, yes, as you say." The man still sounded like this was a pleasant conversation between neighbors. He patted me on the shoulder again before turning to leave—and when he smiled at me over his shoulder, I saw the sharp end of his left canine poke his lower lip. "Be well, friend."

Then the man and woman who could only be vampires went on their way, and I stood in place in the middle of Knockturn Alley like I was stuck to a post. I could see it now as I watched them from behind, the unnatural grace in their steps, the way it almost looked like they were holding back their steps to fit in with the normal human pace.

And just to add to my surprise, the vampire duo walked straight into Borgin and Burkes. I laughed to myself and turned away, shaking my head in disbelief. I didn't even know there were any vampires in the Harry Potter world. At least not the ones that looked and walked amongst us.

And they could see through enchantments too? That was just unfair.

Then again, this wasn't that world, was it? This was something different, and I had gotten into my head to dive head first into its dangerous, unknown waters.

"Fuck me," I muttered as I trudged through alley after alley toward Diagon Alley.

The last light of twilight was slowly fading, and the already drab streets of Knockturn turned gloomy. Lamps were few and far between, and the sharp breeze rolling through the streets made the flames shift and dance, throwing shadows against shop walls. Foot traffic slowed. The more respectable shops closed their doors and shuttered their windows, while the seedy businesses that nested in the crevices of society opened up like a whore's legs.

Despite all of it, it wasn't this change that made me on edge. It was that feeling of powerlessness as the vampire held me, just after Mr. Borgin laughed at my face, that had gotten to me. I hated it. Hated it worse than anything.

My body felt restless and flushed with adrenaline, my hands flexing at my sides.

And that's when they came.

I heard a low, "That's him," then quick footsteps coming behind me just as I passed by a narrow side alley.

I didn't even think. I turned already flicking my wrist—only to the left this time, and instead of my wand, a knife slid into my palm.

Two wizards slipped out of the alley and rushed toward me. The first one had his hood pulled up and a hand fishing into his robes. The one behind him had nothing covering his face and he was a sight to behold—a glass eye, one of his ears cut in half, and a sick, yellow smile plastered on his face. The smile of a man about to have the kind of fun normal folk would grimace at. I knew the type quite well. He already had his own wand out.

The first wizard opened his mouth to say something, but I wasn't in a listening mood. It wasn't the type of conversation I'd enjoy, I'd bet. I lunged, grabbed his arm with my left hand before he could pull out a wand, and pulled him closer. My forehead met his nose with a wet crunch and a spray of blood.

Except his nose wasn't the only thing that cracked. Flavius' projection broke in a flash of white light, blinding me for a split second. A second that the one-eyed wizard needed to push his friend out of the way and get me in his sight.

"Depulso!" the man spat in a gruff voice.

We were too close to dodge, but I let go of the first wizard's arm and raised my own up to cover my face. It was more instinct than anything, but it saved me.

A shield sprung from my ring, covering my arm in a half-moon of bright magic, and the red spell splashed against it and flew away like a bullet scraping past a helmet before smashing against the brick wall behind me. Chips of stone and clay exploded out in a cloud of debris.

It was the one-eyed wizard's time to be confused, as instead of being confronted with the large form of Flavius Prince, a teenager stood in front of him. I jumped on it. Wizard or mobster, I've learned to never hesitate in a brawl.

I dove at him. He brought his wand to bear again, lips moving to cast, but I was already too close and slapped his hand away. "Crucio!" The spell shot away to the side, this one dark red in color.

The moment I heard the words, my mind was settled. My right hand came up toward his stomach quick as lightning, once, twice, three times. The knife dug at his guts as easily as it would a carve plastic bottle. And like a bottle of water full of holes, the man leaked.

Blood splashed on the cobblestones.

Glancing up, I saw his one good eye was wide and blood-shot. His mouth opened to scream, but I changed the direction of my fourth stab and brought my hand upward. He only got a strangled grunt out before my knife punched through the bottom of his mouth and up into his head.

He wouldn't be shooting out Unforgivables any time soon. I pushed him off my knife and he fell like a puppet with its strings cut.

A wheezy groan reminded me there was one wizard left still. A quick glimpse showed the man splayed on the ground almost in a fetal position, crying to himself. His face was red, eyes watery, one hand holding onto his ruined nose—but the other was reaching for his wand that had fallen during the scuffle.

Wrong move.

Three quick steps and I was on top of him, stepping on his hand and breaking his wand in the process. The loud groan of protest got him a boot to the stomach for his troubles, and it shut him up quickly enough.

I knelt over him, the bloodied knife in my hand pressing against the soft skin of his neck. Before I spoke, I made sure the little alley we were in was empty. The stores around here looked abandoned, the windows shuttered by wooden planks. Piles of trash accumulated on the corners. The perfect place, then. A place forgotten by society.

"Answer quickly and live. Don't, and end up like your friend there." I nodded toward the one-eyed body a few feet away. "What do you say?"

The wizard nodded frantically beneath me. Good. I had to end this quickly and leave.

"Who sent you and why?" I pushed my knife a half-inch up, digging into the skin. The man whimpered. "The truth now. I'll know."

He nodded again, and I let up the pressure a bit. "We- we're debt collectors. Just supposed to shake you up a bit 's all."

"Collecting for whom?"

"Dunno," he said, and his eyes widened when I scowled and pricked his neck again. "Yaxley," he said quickly. "Yaxley. We work for him. Dunno who's got the debt though. S' all I know, I swear."

There was a beat of silence.

"I believe you," I grunted and pulled the knife away from his neck. The man let out a weary sigh. Then I covered his mouth with one hand and pushed my blade through his eye with the other. He died before he could try to scream.

Cold-blooded murder wasn't my thing, but I couldn't let the man live after he'd seen my face. The moment my projection broke down, everyone around me became a liability I just couldn't afford. If he wanted to blame anyone, then he could put it square on the Prince family. Had I been able to do magic, a simple Obliviation would have sufficed.

After pulling the knife away, I didn't even allow myself to breathe. Wiping away the excess blood on the man's robes, I jumped to my feet, re-holstered the knife, and fled the scene, flicking my projector ring back on as soon as I'd taken the first corner.