“Not The Pirate’s House, poppet,” Ian said, his grin turning knowing, as if he’d guessed at my surge of possessiveness. “Next to it.”
I followed his gaze, but saw nothing except an expanse of grass between the parking lot and the road. Or did he mean one of those smaller buildings to the right of the grassy expanse?
“Which one is it?” I said.
Ian pulled something grainy out of his pocket, then blew the glittering dust it contained right into my face. The sparkling cloud went right into my nose and mouth, burning as it made its way inside me.
Vlad grabbed Ian, snapping, “What was that?” at the same time that I sputtered out, “What the hell?”
“That’s me pretending to be a gentleman,” Ian said, winking at me. “Ladies first, isn’t that the way it’s done?”
“First for what?” I began, then stopped. “Oh,” I breathed.
Chapter 10
Right in the middle of the grassy expanse, a building seemed to form out of mists that hadn’t been there a moment ago. It had to be at least seven stories high and the exterior looked black and shiny, as if covered by layers of the finest obsidian. The top came together like an obelisk, and an infinity waterfall spilled from the roof down to its mist-covered base. Through that thick, misty haze at the bottom, I glimpsed what appeared to be irregularly shaped, smoked-glass doors, and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a bellman dressed in Merlin-esque robes waiting by the entrance.
“What are you staring at?” Vlad asked, sounding impatient.
“That,” I said, gesturing to the mystical building.
He looked right at it, and annoyance brushed over my emotions. “The shacks next to the empty lot? What of them?”
“He still can’t see it?” I asked Ian. “Or it’s not real and I only think I see it because you just dosed me with a magical version of an acid trip?”
“The former,” Ian said with a laugh. “Although the latter does exist, and I highly recommend it.”
“Well, dose him so he can see it, too,” I said, feeling Vlad’s increasing annoyance brush over my emotions.
Ian held out his hand. Some sparkly, grainy bits were still in his palm. I nodded at Vlad, and he didn’t move as Ian blew the magical sand into his face.
“Incredible,” Vlad said moments later, staring at the mist-draped black building. “I sensed nothing there before.”
Ian grunted. “That’s why it’s called magic, mate.”
I’d thought I had some experience with magic, what with being killed by it twice and currently being infected by an unbreakable spell. Still, staring at the magnificent tall structure, I was stunned as I absorbed the fact that something this big could be right out in the open, yet because it had been cloaked, no one—even a vampire as old and powerful as Vlad—had known that it was there.
Of course, that begged an obvious question. “What’s to keep people from accidentally bumping into this?”
“The same spell that prevents most people from seeing it,” Ian replied. “It compels everyone else to stay away from the area. Without that dust I blew into your face, you could run right toward that building, yet you’d stop yourself every time before you got close enough to touch it.”
It sounded impossible, but I was redefining my definition of that by the minute. “What’s in the dust you dosed us with?”
Ian shrugged. “The magical version of performance-enhancing drugs. It mimics abilities you don’t have, fooling the spell around the building into believing that you’re at least a mid-level practitioner.”
“Did you know any of this was possible?” I asked Vlad.
He shook his head. “I’d heard stories, but I dismissed them as nonsense.”
Ian let out a derisive snort. “Denial is half the reason our race remains ignorant of magic.”
“What’s the other half?” I muttered, still grappling with everything I’d learned in the past five minutes.
“Fear,” Ian said, his tone implying that it was obvious. “Same reason most humans refuse to acknowledge that vampires, ghouls, ghosts, and demons exist, even though we’ve done a poor job covering our tracks at times. Yet if humans pretend they’re at the top of the food chain, they feel safer. And if vampires pretend that magic is mere smoke, mirrors, and the occasional minor spell, then we can pretend there’s nothing greater than us, even if that’s not true.”
From Vlad’s emotions, he was wrestling with this explanation. “Some believed otherwise,” he said at last. “Or magic wouldn’t have been outlawed thousands of years ago.”
Another oblique shrug from Ian. “Population control. Vampires couldn’t be subjugated by powerful sorcerers, wizards, mages, or witches if magic were illegal and any vampire caught practicing it was sentenced to death.”
It sounded barbaric, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time a society had criminalized something it was afraid of. “Why only vampires?” I asked. “If the Law Guardians were so concerned about magic, why not go after human practitioners, too?”
“They did,” Ian said, arching a brow. “But they recruited others to do their work for them.”
Vlad let out a jaded grunt. “All the witch trials over the ages. That was our people manipulating the Church and fanatics?”
“So claim the survivors,” Ian replied lightly. “And many of them still hold a grudge.”