Thaumatology 02 - Demon's Moon Read online

  Demon’s Moon

  The Second Novel in the Thaumatology Series

  By Niall Teasdale

  Copyright 2011 Niall Teasdale

  Kindle Edition

  Contents

  Part One: The Science of Magic

  Part Two: The Wolves of London

  Part Three: The Fair One

  Part Four: Ragnarök

  Part Five: Yule

  Part One: The Science of Magic

  Holloway, London, November 15th, 2010

  The huge form of a transformed werewolf loomed over Ceri. Massive and black furred, he moved with lithe grace, despite his huge size. She had her back to him, concentrating on the display console in front of her, and did not notice his approach until a pair of huge hands, each finger tipped with a long, sharp, black claw, landed on her hips and began to slide up to her ribs.

  Ceri gasped sharply and then giggled. ‘Alec, stop that,’ she said. ‘Save it for Cheryl.’ The big hands slid around to her breasts, groping them through her London Metropolitan University T-shirt, and she swatted at one of them. ‘Oi! Don’t make me zap you!’

  Alec whined, but let her go, rather reluctantly and backed up into the containment circle. He slumped down onto the granite slab, looking like a kicked puppy; not an easy feat for a creature who could have torn Ceri in half without breaking a sweat. He was surrounded by three columns of high resolution, slit-scan thaumometer heads all hooked up to the instruments Ceri was working at. The lab was the perfect place to work now that the thaumic accelerators had been taken out; lots of space and isolated from the other university buildings. The isolation had been paranoia over what might happen in the High-energy Thaumatology Building… right up until the time Ceri and her boss, Doctor Cheryl Tennant, had almost blown up central London earlier that year.

  Ceri smiled and turned to Alec. ‘These results look excellent,’ she said. ‘Thanks for doing this again.’ Alec rumbled something which was probably “no problem,” but werewolf throats were not built to make intelligible sounds; unless you were another wolf, of course. ‘This time, I want to record the reverse transform too,’ she added. ‘So give me a nod when you’re ready and I’ll start up the recorders.’

  Alec held up a hand, finger and thumb curled into an “ok” sign. His eyes roamed over Ceri and he ran a very long tongue over his huge, very pointy, teeth. Alec, the man behind the wolf, fancied Ceri even though he had something of a relationship with Cheryl. Alec, the wolf, had the same impulse control issues that most werewolves had. Ceri trusted Alec with her life, had trusted him to keep her safe from a vampire assassin, but she was not sure she trusted him with her body. Still, it had seemed impolite to use a Wolfsbane amulet to keep him off.

  The big wolf-man climbed to his feet, giving Ceri a nod. It took a minute or two before any of the were-forms could change back due to the energy needed in the transformation. She was a little surprised he could do it so fast, but she started up the recording system. ‘When you’re ready,’ she said.

  Ceri did not actually need the instruments to watch the effects she was recording. Her Sight let her see the growing field of thaumic energy blossom around Alec as the transformation started. It was this ability which had allowed her to see it for the first time, when a foolish young were had got over-excited in the Jade Dragon, the nightclub where Alec worked as the bartender. The field grew, spreading out like the classical field lines around a magnet, and then collapsed back inward. As the energy of the field imploded there was an instant where Ceri could see both the man and the wolf superimposed upon each other, and then there was just the man, naked and panting in the middle of the circle.

  Turning, Ceri shut down the recording and set the machine to collate the data for display. When she turned back, Alec had slipped into a towelling dressing gown he had brought with him. ‘Thanks,’ she said again. ‘It’s really good of you to do this for me.’

  ‘Hey anything for my favourite…’ He paused, considering. ‘For my joint-favourite thaumatologist. And, uh, sorry about… y’know?’

  Ceri smirked. ‘It’s kind of flattering,’ she said, ‘having a guy unable to control himself in my presence.’

  ‘Huh,’ Alec grunted. ‘Total pain in the arse from my perspective. Don’t get me wrong, I got nothing against being a werewolf, I just wish the wolf form came with proper vocal cords and without the heightened instincts.’

  ‘You think you’ve got it bad,’ Ceri replied, ‘I’ve got a true lycanthrope coming in here on Sunday night.’

  Alec’s face hardened. ‘Damn, Ceri,’ he said, ‘you sure that’s safe?’

  ‘I really need to scan a lick along with as many true weres as I can manage,’ Ceri said, ‘and Sunday night is as safe as it’s going to get. I have planned this out, y’know?’

  ‘Still… I assume you’ll have Lily there to help, I’ll come down too.’ Ceri grinned at him. ‘Which is why you told me,’ he said, sagging at being suckered into volunteering.

  Ceri giggled. ‘Did you get word to Dane about coming down here?’

  ‘I sent word,’ Alec said. ‘May be a while before they get it.’

  ‘Nomads, yeah,’ Ceri said, nodding.

  ‘Oh,’ Alec said, ‘in the meantime, you heard about the new dancer at the Collar Club?’

  ‘New one? I have Jasmine, Tilly, and Pat coming in over the next couple of weeks, and Jasmine says she can get me two male werefoxes to study…’

  ‘Ah,’ Alec said, ‘but the new girl’s not a fox. Her name’s Naira. She’s from Brazil.’

  Ceri’s eyes lit up. ‘A cat?’

  ‘Were-panther,’ Alec said, grinning at her enthusiasm. ‘She’ll be dancing for the first time on Wednesday, but if you talk nicely to Carter she’s in tomorrow practicing. You might get to talk to her then.’

  Ceri beamed, bouncing slightly on her toes. ‘Oh wow, I’ve never met a were-panther before.’

  ‘As I recall,’ Alec said as he gathered his clothes to get dressed, ‘you hadn’t met a werewolf until Lily introduced you to me a couple of months ago.’

  Kennington

  High Towers stood in its lot near Kennington Park, dark and brooding as always. The windows were dark, some were broken, and cobwebs hung, thick and grey with dust, in the corners. It looked like a set for a horror movie, which was exactly what Ceri’s mother had wanted when she had crafted the illusion.

  Walking up the path from the park, she went in through the side gate and a shimmer of light flickered around her; the house was welcoming home its mistress. Grinning, she walked up the path to the side door and into the second kitchen. The room was spotless; Twill, the fairy who lived in the attic, kept the room clean and it was never used. Her mother had had it put in for brewing potions and Ceri was not a witch. In fact, Ceri had avoided the room entirely until recently. It reminded her of her mother and she had tended to avoid things which did that.

  The house was quiet as she walked through into the huge hall and then on into the kitchen where Twill was busy making dinner. The nut-brown fairy hovered in mid-air on feathery, blue wings flicking rapidly though, in practice, it was magic which kept her there. She was dressed only in a tiny, white apron with “Kiss the cook” printed on it. Around her, spoons stirred of their own accord, knives chopped vegetables apparently on their own, and then the chopped produce lifted into the air and dropped into the stew.

  ‘Hey, Twill,’ Ceri said. ‘That smells good.’

  The four inch tall woman turned in the air. ‘Thank you, Ceri,’ she said, ‘and welcome home. How did the test go with Alec?’

  ‘Good,’ Ceri said. ‘The data looks excellent. I think I can get nuances from the analysis that the basic scan we had before couldn�
�t give me. Can’t wait to compare his data against the scans from the North Hills wolves.’ She grinned. ‘And I only got groped a bit.’

  ‘Better luck next time,’ the fairy said, and the sound of wind chimes floated through the kitchen; Twill’s version of laughter.

  Ceri chuckled. ‘Where’s Lily?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Twill replied, ‘she’s been lying on the chaise longue in the study all afternoon with that… tablet thing of yours watching videos of some kind.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ceri said, turning back toward the door.

  ‘You’ve got about ninety minutes before I dish up,’ Twill added. ‘I’d suggest taking your clothes off first to save time.’

  Ceri ignored her and headed up the stairs, turning right on the landing to go into the study. Sure enough there was a naked woman sprawled on the lounger holding a tablet PC. From the wash of heat Ceri felt pass over her as she walked into the room, Lily was watching porn videos again. Ceri schooled her features into a look of disapproval and marched into the room.

  ‘And what do we have here?’ Ceri said sternly.

  Lily looked, wide-eyed, over the top of the tablet and tapped the screen quickly. Groaning sounds were cut off suddenly. ‘I was just, uh…’ Lily began.

  ‘Watching porn on my tablet again,’ Ceri said, hands on hips, ‘which I expressly asked you not to do, as I recall.’

  Lily looked up at her with jet-black eyes. The woman was unnaturally beautiful, her skin porcelain smooth, her eyebrows perfectly arched. Thick, chestnut hair fell in waves over breasts which defied gravity and the rest of her body, down to the long, toned legs, was to die for. Then again, “unnaturally beautiful” was an apt description, Lily was a half-succubus. Right now her bottom lip was actually quivering pensively.

  ‘What,’ Ceri said, ‘would be a suitable punishment, do you think?’

  Lily promptly sat forward and produced a paddle and a riding crop from behind her back, offering Ceri a choice of weapon.

  ~~~

  They were still exploring their rather strange relationship. Neither of them were lesbians; Ceri was quite sure she was straight and Lily was… Lily. However, since Ceri had had her power as a sorceress unlocked by a massive surge of thaumic energy, Lily’s demonic side had fixed on her. Succubi, like most demons, sought out powerful magicians so that they could either take control of them, or become their pets, gaining power as a reward for subservience. Ceri had almost ended up as Lily’s slave, but had managed to overcome her demonic side, and that meant that, effectively, Ceri had a pet demon.

  Occasionally, Ceri had to assert her position, making sure that the demon part of Lily’s personality knew who was the mistress, but in practice that happened relatively infrequently. Lily was basically just a kinky creature who liked sex and took the opportunity to get it whenever she could. No, Ceri thought as she lay on the lounger with Lily’s head resting on her shoulder, that was unfair. Lily’s nature meant that she knew people’s desires, and that meant that today’s little scene had been set up because Ceri had thought of it when she had told her friend off for using the tablet.

  They were still very much at the “trying things out” stage. Ceri had had one fumbling affair in college which she was trying to forget. Despite her preferences in sexual partner, Ceri was having more fun with Lily than she had ever had with a man. She was no natural dominatrix, however, which made playing one for Lily harder than she had expected. She was rather glad that, most of the time, Lily seemed very content to cuddle up and just be near her.

  Twill zipped into the room, a ball of glowing blue light which resolved into a tiny woman as she came to a stop above them. ‘Your dinner is ready,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks, Twill,’ Ceri said. She was starving. Succubi fed through a process which siphoned energy from their partner’s Tantric Median during sex. Some enterprising thaumatologist had got a grant once to observe people having sex with one of the same systems Ceri had used on Alec; The Metaphysical Orgasm had been a bestseller as well as proving that the eventual climax was the result of a massive surge passing up the Tantric Median from the genitals to the brain. By draining energy during this process, succubi could prolong that climactic rush for an almost unbearably long time. It was amazing, addictive, and exhausting.

  ‘Food would be good,’ Lily said sleepily.

  ‘You’ve just eaten,’ Ceri said. ‘Get yourself up so I can.’

  Lily disentangled herself with grace born of demon heritage, allowing Ceri to stand, and they went down to the kitchen where bowls of stew were awaiting them. Ceri began to eat as soon as her behind was on the chair. Lily was a little more sedate about it. It was true that she needed solid food just like any normal human, but her recent meal of thaumic energy had, indeed, taken the edge off her appetite.

  Twill settled onto the table and picked up a thimble of honey thinned with alcohol. Her eating habits tended to be a little repellent, so she generally ate in her attic, but she sometimes sat down with them when she was feeling sociable. ‘So,’ the fairy said, ‘you think this study will provide you with suitable material for your thesis, Ceri?’

  Ceri remembered to swallow before speaking; Twill could get really sarcastic when you spoke with your mouth full. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘no one’s ever documented the mechanism before. And I get this feeling that there are nuances to it that will make for some interesting discoveries.’

  ‘Well Carter is really pleased with the detector system in the Collar Club,’ Lily put in. Ceri had suggested that a thaumometer installed at the tables could detect the unusual energy pattern during the early stages of a transformation, giving the staff an early warning. Sure enough it had worked. ‘He reckons it’s saved him thousands in damages and bad publicity.’

  ‘I may be able to improve the sensitivity,’ Ceri mused, ‘but it’s the additional information that I find interesting.’

  ‘Like the cascade pulse?’ Lily asked.

  Ceri nodded. ‘The pulse that werewolves send out at the end of their transformation explains some of the effect,’ she said, ‘but not all of it. One werewolf changing sometimes triggers nearby ones to change, but not always, and it seems like it’s more probable among members of the same pack. So why? And is it more likely to happen if it’s a pack’s Alpha who changes?’ She forked more stew into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

  ‘And there’s the lick you’ve got to study?’ Lily said.

  ‘Might I suggest not calling him that on the night?’ Twill suggested.

  ‘Alec doesn’t mind when I call him one,’ Lily said.

  ‘Probably because he isn’t,’ Ceri pointed out, ‘and you mean it in fun. True lycanthropes possibly just consider it an insult.’

  Lily shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t anyway. I’ll be too busy being worried.’

  ‘I’ve got everything covered,’ Ceri said. ‘He’s pretty used to it by now so he knows all the countermeasures. I’ve got you and Alec there, just in case. And just in case the “just in case” fails, I’ll have anti-virals there to treat anyone who gets bitten.’

  ‘It does sound like you’ve thought of everything,’ Twill said reassuringly. ‘Who is “he”?’

  ‘Oh, Professor Mallow, he’s a friend of Cheryl’s. He teaches cryptozoology.’ She made a little grimace. ‘He got bitten on a field trip in France about five years ago. It took almost two days for him to get to help and by then… Well, the anti-virals are only guaranteed to work inside of twenty-four hours and then it tails off…’

  ‘Which is why you’ll have some on hand,’ Twill said, nodding. ‘You do seem to have considered everything.’

  ‘Cheryl and Professor Mallow reviewed the experiment plan,’ Ceri said. ‘They were quite happy with it. I mean, experimental thaumatology is what I do.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t worry,’ Lily said.

  Ceri smiled at her. ‘No, no it doesn’t. It’s kind of cute really.’

  Lily looked thoughtful. She shrugged. ‘I can live with cute. Sexy, i
rresistible, the object of fantastically intense wet dreams, that’s preferable, but I can live with “cute.”’

  Soho, November 16th

  The staff entrance of the Collar Club was down a back alley off Dean Street, a black-painted panel door mounted in a reinforced frame, and with a spy-hole in it. There was also a pair of video cameras mounted nearby so Ceri was not really surprised when the door opened as she approached. A familiar face topped off with close-cropped, strawberry-blonde hair poked out.

  ‘Hey, Ceri,’ Jasmine said, her eyes shifting back to the two people following her. ‘And Cheryl. Who’s your friend?’

  It was Cheryl who answered. ‘Hi Jasmine. This is Peter Mallow, Professor Peter Mallow. I hope Carter doesn’t mind, Peter’s a cryptozoologist and when he heard about…’

  Jasmine waved the rest of the explanation away. ‘I get it,’ she said, ‘and I’m sure it’ll be fine. Y’know Carter can’t refuse you anything.’

  Ceri saw the blush on her boss’ cheeks. Carter Fleming, owner of the Collar Club and a bunch of other nightclubs around the country, was known to the world as a very rich playboy who dated pop stars, porn stars, actresses, and models, usually for one night. Somehow, a thirty-something university researcher in thaumatology had attracted his attention. Ceri thought it was weird, but mostly because her middle-aged mentor got more action, male action anyway, than she did!

  Jasmine backed up, letting them in and closing the door behind them. ‘They’re on the main floor,’ she said. ‘Go on through.’

  The back corridors of the club were dark so it was not until they had made it through to the changing rooms for the floor staff and dancers that Professor Mallow realised that the buxom young werefox who was escorting them was dressed in three patches of fabric precariously attached in strategic locations with string. His Adam’s Apple bobbed like a cork.

  Cheryl noticed and laughed. ‘It is a strip club, Peter,’ she said. ‘We’re going to meet an exotic dancer, not a nun.’

  Mallow was in his mid-forties, slightly balding, but aging fairly well. He had the look of a man who took his work very seriously, probably too seriously, and the half-glasses did not help in the least. Jasmine smiled at him and his cheeks glowed. ‘Well, yes, obviously,’ he said. ‘I’m, uh, just…’ He grinned sheepishly at the dancer. ‘I don’t get out much.’