Behind the Magic
The Tarheel Writer
"The Power Behind the Power"
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Rated PG 13+
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"Tom, I've suddenly got a ..."
"Bad feeling," Tom said, finishing Daniel's statement. "I know. So do I." The boys looked at each other for a moment and suddenly Daniel's eyes widened.
"We've gotta get out of here now!" Tom had already drawn his wand. The explosion rocked through the adjacent trailer sending an ever widening arc of flame and destruction.
"Cingo cingere cinxi cinctum!" Tom yelled as he whipped his wand in a circling motion over the boys' heads. The invisible curtain of protection instantly stopped the flames and flying debris, but the force of the explosion propelled them backward. Daniel felt his legs leave the ground and clung to Tom with all his might. Their flight through the air seemed to last forever. Hot flames, flying shards of metal and chunks of broken wood screamed past them. Daylight was replaced with the breath of hell. The powerful protection spell held its own and cushioned the boys as they landed some fifty feet away. Hot, flaming debris continued to fall around them. Daniel immediately pulled his wand out.
"Itioare home!" The pop sound never sounded so good as the boys instantly disappeared and reappeared in Daniel's bedroom at home.
"What the hell was that?" exclaimed Tom.
"I don't know, but we've got to think quick. Where can we go on the set without anyone seeing us appear?" Tom thought for a quick second.
"Wardrobe. With the noise from the explosion, there shouldn't be anybody there and we can say we were getting ready for this afternoon's shoot."
"Excellent." Daniel grabbed Tom's hand and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He waved his wand and spoke the words. "Itioare wardrobe," he said calmly and the boys popped into the wardrobe trailer. The sounds of screams and sirens immediately filled the afternoon air. They stepped from the trailer and looked around. Daniel's heart gave a jump when he saw the burnt ruins of a car partially impaled into the trailer that was once his own.
"Daniel! Tom!" They turned to see Rupert running toward them. "Damn! Are you two OK?"
"Fine, Rupert. Just fine," said Daniel as Rupert ran up to them.
"Have you seen Emma?" Rupert asked. He was breathing hard and for the first time, Daniel noticed his clothes were torn and scorched.
"Er, no. We were in wardrobe," said Daniel. "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine, but I've gotta find Emma. Last time I saw her she was headed for her trailer." Realization struck Daniel like a ton of bricks. Emma's trailer was right next to his.
The fire brigade pulled up and started spraying water on the twisted metal, sending clouds of steam and ash into the air. Rupert called out to the chief and explained he couldn't find Emma and pointed out her trailer or at least what was left of it. The chief immediately sent a squad of rescuers to her trailer. The devastation was unbelievable. Daniel and Tom had seen it on television, but had never witnessed the horrid, graphic destruction first hand. Daniel couldn't move. He wanted to, but his legs wouldn't listen. He watched as the rescuers slowly waded through the remains of Emma's trailer. As each second passed by, a grim realization started to set in. Daniel's vision narrowed. His mouth became unbearably dry and he felt light as a feather. Unbeknownst to him, Tom had taken him by the arm and eased him back over to the wardrobe trailer. They watched as the rescuers continued their search. Rupert had fallen to his knees and was continually screaming Emma's name as giant tears rolled down his face. James and Oliver Phelps ran to his side and eventually calmed him enough to stop the screaming.
Police quickly set up barricades. The fire chief and the film's director quickly assembled a list of names of people who were supposed to be on the set. Chris quickly made the rounds and checked off the people he could locate. When he returned to the chief, he reported that everyone was accounted for except Emma Watson and Terrance Higgs.
The scene in front of Daniel and Tom was surreal. The air was filled with smoke, steam and ash. The team of rescuers were desperately searching through the debris. James and Oliver held on to Rupert. The fire chief and Chris stood talking. Out of the corner of Daniel's eye, he caught a glimpse of bushy brown hair. Slowly turning his head to the left, he saw Emma getting out of a car. Terrance was holding the door.
"Emma!" screamed Rupert, who pulled himself free from James and Oliver and ran to where she stood. He grabbed her in his arms, all the while crying uncontrollably. Terrance stood statue still and looked over the devastation. They were quickly surrounded by other cast members and crew.
"You OK, mate?" Tom asked Daniel. With Emma's arrival, Daniel was certainly better than before, but he was still in shock and quite weak in the knees. He looked up at Tom and nodded slightly. "Be right back." Daniel nodded again. Tom sought out Chris, had a quick conversation and hurried back to Daniel.
"Is everyone OK?" asked Daniel.
"Yeah, mate. Everyone's fine. Come on, we're popping out of here," Tom said as he helped Daniel to his feet. They went back inside the wardrobe trailer where Tom pulled out his wand. Seconds later they were in Daniel's bedroom. Tom helped Daniel over to the bed then grabbed a chair for himself.
"What the hell just happened?" asked Daniel.
"I've no idea, but with that car plowed into your trailer, I'd say someone doesn't like you." Daniel nodded slowly. "But it could just be a coincidence."
"I think we've pissed in someone's tea, but I can't quite figure out who," said a bemused Daniel.
The television crackled in the corner of the room and soon glowed brightly. A decrepit old man turned from his seat on his settee at looked at the screen. His smile faded as he quickly stood and bowed. The young face on the screen was filled with anger.
"Who do you think you are, Malin?" the young man screamed.
"Not everything is as it seems."
"Shut up you old fool. You've gone too far this time. There is a time and place to exact revenge. You, however, have taken it upon yourself to try to do it in front of the world's media, like the two little imps don't have enough of the media's attention already!"
"I'm sure ..."
"Silence! The only reason I don't incinerate you on the spot is your son. You're damn lucky I didn't do it when you cursed him when you found out he was gay. To cast out your own flesh is blood is inexcusable! You condemned your own son for something he had no choice over, something he was born with. The only reason you live, the only reason ... is him!"
"Yes, my lord."
"I'm the only living heir. I have the power. I have the wealth. I have the control. You have nothing! You piss around with a lowly terrorist while I have dictators, generals, presidents and heads of state in my pocket. After our last meeting, I didn't think I would ever have to say anything to you again." The old man winced and involuntarily rubbed his neck.
"Now, you take that damn terrorist you have hidden in your shack in the woods and you put him out. You put him so far out that even bumbling idiots like a president and his merry men can find him. I will not be disobeyed and I will not tolerate any more of your black magic crap! We do things the way I want them done, or people cease to exist. Am I clear?"
"Crystal, my lord."
"Good." The screen popped with a bright flash and went black. Malin sat down heavily on his settee.
"We'll see about that, faggot," he muttered.
The huge mansion stood ominously at the end of a long private road. Giant oak trees graced the sides of the cobblestone drive. As it approached the massive structure, it split and went around a long pool. A statue in the center spouted water in beautiful twin streams, arching upward and splashing down on opposite ends of the pool. The building itself was constructed of stone. Huge slabs of granite had been meticulously crafted and carefully placed together. The main building stood four stories high and the copper roof had weathered over the ages and appeared a dark brown. The landscaping was flawless. To the right was the garage area. To the left was the stables. And in the rear, from a large outdoor swimming pool one could see the hundreds of acres of forest below.
A lone figure approached the mansion. His motorcycle screaming loudly and he rounded the final curve and slid to a stop at the front door. He was dressed completely in black, including the helmet. But as he took it off, the long blond hair fell gracefully down on his shoulders. The clearly athletic figure flicked the kick stand down and headed for the front door. He was graciously greeted by an older Asian man who bowed deeply.
"Good afternoon, sir. All has been prepared."
"Thank you," the tall dark figure said quietly, but with deep respect as he moved quickly into the confines of the opulent mansion. The staff was immediately at attention as the master had returned. Every detail was attended to as he swept through the grand rooms of the first floor and made his way to the wide sweeping staircase. The almost knee high laced leather boots trod silently against the hand carved marble staircase as the master of the house silently made his way to his private quarters.
Standing at the entrance to his most intimate chambers stood two Samari warriors. They bowed deeply at his approach. The young man paused briefly and acknowledged the men with a slight bow. The simple gesture pass on deepest gratitude. Once inside, he was greeted by his personal attendant.
"Master Nichols has been quite anxious for your return, master," the Mid-Eastern man said as he, like all others throughout the household, bowed deep in respect.
"Where is Don?" the young master asked.
"He awaits you on the veranda, sir." The dark clad youth wasted no time in making his way toward the French doors opening upon the vast portico overlooking the swimming pool and the vast forest below.
The vision of beauty that awaited him still to this day took his breath away. The object of his deepest love and affection stood proudly looking out upon the tens of thousands of acres that made up the Vladimir estate. The dark youth looked upon the flesh of his love and allowed his animal instinct to take hold. He looked with sexual longing at the tall, lean figure leaning so invitingly against the stone barricade. The supple lines of muscle were accentuated by the tight leather pants and skin hugging wife beater. The leather pants hugged the proud muscles increased the dark youth's desire. The fangs involuntarily dropped and oozed with saliva. He moved quickly and embraced the object of his lifelong desire in a passionate embrace. His fangs sunk deeply into the soft warm flesh as he drank of his lover's essence.
On the Chapter Three
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