by Quirah Casey
As soon as my hands are free, I draw Onyx and Otmscheniye and slice through the remaining ropes, then cut down everyone in my path as I make my way to Klara, who’s been wounded in the scuffle, her gun lost. She’s crawled toward Alenin, and I smile at that. Both of my prey are in the same place, and I won’t let anyone else have the pleasure of bringing them down.
They’re mine.
A vampire jumps in front of me, stupidly trying to take me on, and I cut his head clean off without a stutter in my step, the blood spraying across my face.
Alenin and Klara make a mad dash for the door when they see me coming, and I let them. They won’t escape me tonight, no matter how fast they run.
They scurry down the hall, and I follow at a much slower pace. I want them to have time to panic, to regret their decisions before they die. When they go to hell, I’ll be the last thing on their minds.
Alenin glances over his shoulder. When he sees me following, he shoves Klara, who was already struggling, to the ground, throwing her across my path and trying to get as far from me as possible on his own.
Klara tries to get back to her feet, but I leap the remaining distance to her and strike out with Onyx to cut her leg. She screams, reaches back, grabbing onto her leg and attempting to stand, but I kick her and she crumples to the ground. I roll her over with my foot, standing above with her Otmscheniye at her throat. If she tries to shift, my sword will plunge right through her neck.
“I’m really disappointed in you. Turning on me for people who sacrificed you the first chance they got,” I scoff, shaking my head. “I thought I taught you better.”
“Wait,” she pleads, eyes frantic. “I can help you! I have information! You don’t know everything and I—”
Otmscheniye slices into her neck, cutting her words off with a gurgle. “So many mistakes, but your biggest one was threatening Mel and Ru. I guess you’ll be the one meeting your maker tonight.” Then I plunge Onyx through her heart.
I spit on her body before stepping over her and heading for Alenin, moving quicker now. The useless man probably thinks I’ll take my time with Klara, enjoying the vengeance, but he couldn’t be more wrong. I couldn’t care less about Klara, and I’m more focused than ever.
I follow his scent and find him trying to pry one of the exit doors open. He turns, sees me, and takes off down the hall.
I let the shadows out.
Alenin drops to the floor, screaming as he clutches his head in agony. He starts to whimper, bringing his knees to his chest. “Stop! Stop! Make it stop!”
I walk over to him, kneeling at his side, barely aware of the hard floor under my knees as I trail a finger across his face. “You know, I could leave you like this forever, let the shadows flood you for eternity. You’d be helpless to stop it.”
“No…no…”
I watch closely as he suffers. His eyes are open, looking directly at me, but I know that I’m not what he sees. He’s seeing pure darkness, his worst fears. His body is racked with agony, certainly more than if I’d just stabbed him and let him bleed out. No, the shadows offer a type of mental and physical torment unlike anything else. Worse than anything else.
As the shadows leave my own body and take over Alenin’s, a high rushes over me, one that I’ve chased in warm bodies, drugs, and alcohol over the past century. I close my eyes and let it course through my body, enjoying Alenin’s pain, enjoying the feeling of being free.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” A soft voice asks from behind me, and I open my eyes, getting to my feet as I turn to look into a pair of blue eyes. “Don’t you just love the sensation?” the woman asks, her delight clear. Her slim body is wrapped in black from head to toe, including her hair and face. Only her icy blue eyes are visible, watching me closely. “Just think, Blue. This is just the tip of the iceberg…you have no idea what you can do with your powers, the extent of the shadows.”
I tune out Alenin’s whimpers as I try to widen the shadows, envelop this woman in their cloud.
She laughs, blinking at me before moving closer. “That doesn’t work on me, doll.” She reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, and for some reason, it feels familiar.
I feel déjà vu, the presence of a memory, something buried deep. It painfully pushes at my mind, a blur of indistinguishable colors and sounds, but I can’t reach it; it feels…blocked, somehow.
“I’ve waited so long for this moment, for us to be together. But it seems my plans have been ruined.” Her voice is melodic, and I know I should be trying to kill her, but for some reason I no longer want to, my will…gone. “I’m going to have to go back to the drawing board, but that’s okay—I’ve waited this long. What’s a couple more months? Even years pass quickly at this point.”
“Who are you?” I manage to ask, pushing through the cloudy feeling that’s settled over me as she’s spoken.
“Someone you should have known a long time ago, but…predicaments got in the way.” She has a thick accent, but I can’t figure out what it is. Just like everything else about her, it’s hard to pinpoint. “Don’t worry, though. I’m a master planner.” She smiles. “I need you to forget this conversation, forget that you saw me at all today. You know what? Just forget me completely.” Another low laugh. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Before I can reply, a warm, fuzzy feeling settles over me. My eyes drift closed.
♛
“Blue! Blue!” Mel’s voice wakes me, and I find her and London standing over me. They both wear worried expressions, and it takes me a while to remember where we are.
The house in Oltinie.
What the hell happened?
I can’t remember anything after I chased Alenin. Did I pass out? Am I hurt?
“You let the shadows overtake you,” Mel says softly, her gaze on the spot next to me.
I turn my head to find Alenin’s body lying on the ground beside me. For a second, I think someone’s removed his eyes, but then I realize that his eyeballs have gone completely black. A dark, gooey liquid drips from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
I’ve seen this before.
When I burned my village to the ground a century ago.
“Fuck,” Mel says, kneeling beside me. “It wasn’t this bad last time.”
I sit up, rubbing my throbbing temples. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell her. “I want to get out of here.” I look at London, who’s examining Alenin’s body, his face a mask. “How are Blaine and Paris?” I ask, pushing to my feet and trying to direct everyone’s attention away from the body.
When London finally looks at me, his golden eyes are blank. “They’re fine. Paris was only shot with a sedative, and they didn’t bother to move her. When she came to, she found the rest of us and told us about Alenin. At that point, we couldn’t reach Klara and Cherilyn—I guess now we know why. I’m sorry for your loss, by the way.” The way he says it is robotic, like he’s saying the words out of habit. His gaze keeps wandering back to Alenin. “We got Blaine out of here because he was in need of immediate medical attention. Butch is with him. The others are on their way back to The Lair, but we came back to get you.” He sounds slightly delirious, or maybe that’s just me.
A wave of dizziness crashes over me, and I have to lean against the wall to stay upright.
“Are you alright?” Mel asks, rushing to my side. I nod, but I still let her warm hand grasp my elbow.
“You’re a shadow master,” London finally says, and his shock suddenly makes sense.
“Yes.”
He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I guess your personality makes a lot more sense now. And you were lying about all those invisibility charms, weren’t you? You were using the shadows.”
“Yes.” I don’t feel like arguing right now, and there’s really no point. “Can we do the whole twenty questions thing later? I really want to drink myself into a coma right now.”
The blank look leaves London’s face as his usual grin returns, though he still
looks exhausted and the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sure, Pudding. A coma sounds pretty good right about now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
While we don’t quite drink ourselves under the table, we come pretty damn close. I hand off the house in Oltinie to the CDA, letting them deal with all the bodies. The only exception is Alenin, who I take to Zyut for examination instead. I don’t want the CDA to see his body and start asking questions. When they interview me, I tell them that Alenin ran away, that I have no idea what happened to him. I’m sure they’ll try to find a non-existent trail for a few months before giving up and considering it a lost cause.
The next day, we prepare for Cherilyn’s funeral. We bury her in Lobrooke’s cemetery a few days later. The den was her only family, and everyone comes to pay their respects, dressing in all white as is custom for beatus funerals. Baptise and Fran arrive back in town on the morning of the service, and they come to offer their condolences. Even London, Paris, and Talon show up.
There’s no pastor and there’s no church; we go straight to the burial site. Mel and I carry the casket, along with Dina and Reed. A couple of the den members speak, reflecting on Cherilyn’s life, and I say a few words myself, going last as is traditional.
Then we lay her to rest.
As the last pile of dirt is thrown onto the coffin, my mind goes to Klara. She’s going to be buried by the city in an unmarked grave. No den custom for her.
It’s what she deserves. That and so much more.
After the funeral, we go to The Lair for a reception. While we’ll have a private gathering at the compound for den wyryns later, we want to give people from town a chance to pay their respects to the den.
I call Marie and let out a soft sigh when she answers. Mel spoke with her briefly yesterday and let her know that we were all okay, but I haven’t yet had a chance to speak to her personally.
“It’s time for you and the girls to come home.” I tell her, pacing around my office. I’ve already had Fran redo the security system. Now the only people with access to my office are myself, Mel, and Marie. Best not to take chances.
“About time. Quest mentioned some kind of…vacation? Are we still doing that? Because gods, after dealing with her attitude, I need a getaway.”
I laugh softly. “Yeah, that sounds good.” I pause. “Bring Ru along.”
Marie sighs. “She’s still pissed with you, so I don’t think she’s going to come, no matter how much I beg.”
Ru is just as stubborn as Quest, but she’s older, so she knows how to keep a grudge longer.
“She’ll never understand that I did what was best for her.”
“Have you ever thought of just apologizing to her?”
“I won’t apologize for what I did.”
“Then I guess all you can do is give her space.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I’ll give her another month to get over her ego, and then I’m going to pay her a personal visit.”
Marie laughs nervously. “We’ll see how that goes.”
I hang up and head downstairs, where the reception is in full swing. While the club is packed, much like it would be on a regular night, the music is lower than usual, and there’s more light. There’s less sex in the air and more sadness.
My gaze lands on someone with dark hair and stiff shoulders sitting at the bar, and I smile slightly as I think of the first time I saw him, just a few weeks ago. “Who would have thought I’d play a part in saving your life, Agent Do-Good?” I ask, plopping down next to Blaine. This is the first time I’ve seen him since Oltinie; the last time I checked, the agent was under a healer’s care. I don’t know what Alenin used on him, but it definitely fucked the agent up and kept him from healing naturally.
Blaine turns to look at me, a glass dangling from his fingers. “Who would have thought?” he agrees.
I clear my throat and gesture for Reit to get me a drink, or five.
“I’m waiting.” I say to Blaine pointedly, and I watch as the corners of his mouth turn up.
“For what?” he asks, pressing his glass to his mouth.
“My thank you, of course. I mean, you opposed me at every turn, threw so many fits about the way I…handled things, and I rescued you anyway. I didn’t have to do that.”
“From what I hear, you ended up needing some rescuing yourself.”
I wave my hand. “I orchestrated the whole mission.” Okay, so maybe London did that. But I can still take credit.
Blaine smiles, and after a moment, his eyes meet mine. “Thank you, Blue. Maybe you aren’t as bad as I thought.”
“Okay, I don’t know about all that.” Blaine laughs as I throw back a shot, the alcohol burning my throat in its satisfying way. “I am glad you recovered, though, Agent Do-Good. We need some people in the CDA who aren’t totally corrupt.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles this time, and I find myself smiling back. “I think that was a compliment, so I’m going to say thank you.”
“Don’t expect another one.”
“Don’t expect another what?” A familiar voice asks from right over my shoulder as one of my shots disappears from the bar in front of me.
“Oh, you’re still in town,” I say dryly, watching as London raises the shot to his mouth and downs it, licking the excess liquid off his lips in a motion much slower and more sensual than necessary.
“Of course. I still have some business to finish up,” he says, reaching for another of my shots, but I slap his hand away. His eyes trail over me slowly. “Some people to do.” He feigns embarrassment. “Oops, meant to say some things to do.”
He looks over my shoulder at Blaine, who’s watching our interaction with open curiosity. “How have you been, mate? Feeling better?”
Blaine nods. “Yes, I’m feeling much better. Thank you for helping to save me.”
“No problem.”
My mouth falls open. “I damn near had to pry a thanks out of you, yet you just offer one up to him.” I take another shot, slamming the glass down on the bar. “Fucking misogynistic pricks.”
Blaine laughs and stands, throwing some cash onto the bar. “I’ve got to go—I’m still supposed to be taking it easy. Again, thank you both for saving me. And Blue, I’m sorry for your loss.” He moves away into the crowd, leaving me with London, who makes himself comfortable in the seat beside me.
“Pudding—”
“Now that we’re done with the mission, you have a promise to uphold,” I cut him off. I’m not worried about anyone overhearing our conversation, but I’m still careful with my words. “I want what you promised me.”
London pulls a cigar from his pocket. “I’ll trade you,” he says, inclining his head toward the remaining shots.
“Fine.” I take the cigar from him as he does a shot. “Tell me what I want to know.”
The corners of his lips turn up as he leans closer to me “Uytre,” he breathes softly. While it got pushed to the side while we were looking for Alenin and his crew, I never forgot about the device, one that I hope will lead me to the number one man on my shit list.
“Yes?” I urge him on.
“Uytre,” he repeats, drawing it out in dramatic fashion. “We’ll discuss it later. In the meantime, the two of us have much bigger fish to fry, love.”
I feel my anger start to rise. “No fucking way, Stendahl. I want Uytre and you promis—”
“There are some witch hunters on the loose. They’ve been hitting chöąt hotspots all over the world, and I’ve recently learned that at the moment, they’re in Portiyr. I figured that while we’re getting Uytre, we could make a pit stop and end the hunters.”
“No.” I shake my head, frowning. “That has nothing to do with me. All I want is Uytre.”
“Well, you see, Pudding, I’ve also heard that Lobrooke is the next stop on their list. I know how adamant you are about protecting the very few people you care about. And, from what I can tell, Fran
cesca Ayving is on that list.”
Fran.
The witch flashes in my mind: her kind smile, the way she gave me a chance.
“If we’re already going to be in Portiyr…”
Witch hunters don’t have shit to do with me.
But I can’t ignore the possibility that Fran could be in danger.
“No shenanigans, though,” I warn London. “We’re going to take out the hunters and get Uytre, and then you’re going to go back to England and stay the hell away from me and my town.”
London smirks. “Whatever you say, Pudding.” He throws another shot back before shooting me a wink. “Then I guess it’s time for us to hunt down some witch hunters.”
To be continued in THE BLUE DEVIL BOOK TWO, THE DRAGON’S DEN…
Continue reading for a sneak peek of STEALING THE THRONE, Quirah’s next book which will be published in mid-April 2019.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The original version of this story was first published in early 2013 on Wattpad when I was 13 years old. Six years later, I’ve finally rewritten the story and I’ve brought Blue’s story to life.
I’ve had so much fun writing this story and refinding my love for writing. There will be many spin offs and side stories in this world, starting with Roxanna’s story, which you can find a snippet of at the end of this book.
I’d like to thank my amazing editor, Talia Smart, for helping me with this book despite my crazy deadlines. You’ve been amazing and helped turn my book baby into an awesome piece of work! Also, thanks to anyone who’s reviewed this book. It really helps!
I can’t wait for you all to meet the rest of the dysfunctional ensemble that appears in this world.
-Quirah
