The Burns Defiance

by N M Thorn

  Gunz fell silent, uncomfortably twisting the phone in his hands. He heard Jim talking to Mrak Delar, explaining to him that there was no way he could find him using mundane methods, saying he already tried, and failed.

  “Mrak,” called Gunz.

  “I’m here…”

  “Mrak, can you please tell Kal you spoke with me? Please tell him I don’t blame him for anything. He did what he thought was right.” Guns swallowed hard, sadness gripping his chest. “Tell him he is the only Father I’ve ever had, and nothing can ever change that. I’ll return to him as soon as I can. Can you tell him that?”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “Tell Akira I’m not coming back without Yaroslav,” continued Gunz. “I gave her my word and I intend to keep it.”

  “But, Gunz—”

  “No buts, Mrak,” said Gunz firmly. “I’m here undercover. Jim can explain to you what it means. And if everything works out well tomorrow, I may need to go deeper down this rabbit hole. If I do, you won’t be able to call me on this phone anymore.”

  “Gunz, don’t be an idiot!” Gunz heard Jim’s voice. The agent sounded terrified, which was unlike him. “Please tell me you are not trying to find your way into the captive circles. Please, Gunz, if that’s what you’re planning to do, you need to stop. There is no way out of there.”

  “Don’t worry, Jim, I’m not planning to do that,” said Gunz and cursed quietly at how unconvincing his voice sounded.

  “He’s lying,” said Mrak Delar flatly.

  “No shit,” muttered Jim.

  “Yes, I am lying,” confirmed Gunz, shame coiling within him, “and I’m sorry about that. I’m lying because I have no idea what I will need to do to find Yaroslav, and if penetrating the captive circles is what needs to be done, I’ll do it.”

  “No, Gunz! That’s an order!” yelled Jim. “The only way you can get into the captive circles is by becoming a captive fighter. One thing is you going undercover as an unattached fighter, but captive? No! You hear me? NO! You have no idea what that means and what you will have to endure to survive it!”

  “Jim, you can’t order me. I’m not one of your FBI agents,” said Gunz bluntly. “Mrak, I was happy to hear your voice. Please talk with Kal for me and I’ll be back in Kendral as soon as I can. Now, I need to try and get some sleep. Don’t worry about me and don’t look for me. I’ll be fine.”

  He hung up the phone before Mrak Delar or Jim could say anything else. For a few minutes, he sat on the bed, staring at the dark screen of his phone, feeling numb and tired. Then he put the phone away and lay down, folding his hands on his stomach.

  Can someone knock me out? I need some sleep…

  Chapter 3

  ~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~

  Gunz ran his fingers over the stubble on his chin. It felt soft, more like a beard than a stubble. He pulled out a razor blade and shaving cream, thinking he should probably shave for his dinner with the Head of House. As he squeezed some of the shaving cream on his fingers, he caught his reflection in the mirror and shuddered. He could hardly recognize the man staring back at him – a hardened face with icy blue eyes, a deep vertical crease between his eyebrows and mouth set in a hard line.

  Eight months had passed since the fight at Mount Karasova. Eight months since he had lost Angelique, yet he still couldn’t forgive himself for what happened to her, reliving the horrors of that fight over and over every time when he closed his eyes. She wasn’t dead. He couldn’t force himself into believing she was. If Death himself couldn’t find her soul in any of his domains, she still had to be alive. Nevertheless, all the research he had done, had brought no results.

  Was she still alive somewhere? He couldn’t find a definitive answer to that question and it was tormenting him day and night. He couldn’t find a way to counteract her spell and separate her essence from Zmey’s either. On top of it, he was tired of listening to his friends who were telling him it wasn’t possible, that he must take his time grieving and move on.

  Gunz had never been a social butterfly. He would much rather spend his time alone on a canal or lake with a fishing pole in his hands than at a noisy party. However, he had a few people in his life who he considered his friends and he treasured their company and attention. After what had happened at Mount Karasova, he wanted to be alone, so when Jim asked him for help in penetrating the ring of underground supernatural fighting circles, he jumped at that assignment.

  The only way to numb his constantly aching heart was to get busy and submerge himself in his work. He did enough fighting with monsters while he was patrolling the streets of the city anyway, so fighting with the monsters inside a cage wasn’t that much different. The only difference was that the fights in the cage were scheduled and consistent. In the cage, he would get what he needed every day – silence around him and oblivion, even if for a short while only. During a fight, you couldn’t think of anything but the fight.

  But that wasn’t the only reason he took this assignment. Akira, the powerful queen of vampires, lost her son, Yaroslav. Gunz had an unorthodox relationship with the Scarlet Queen. It had all started with her offer to teach him sword skills, but with time it turned into something closer to a friendship. Besides, both Akira and Yaroslav helped them to protect the city during the attack eight months ago. As strange as it sounded, the Scarlet Queen was trying to keep her subjects in check and humans safe in her territory.

  And now, when Akira’s son was missing, he couldn’t leave her without help. Gunz and Akira had done a lot of digging and both had come to the conclusion that Yaroslav was taken by one of the underground supernatural fighting Houses. In the Unites States, there were fifty major Houses – one in each state. Each House had two types of supernatural fighters working for them – unattached and captive.

  The unattached fighters were free to come and go as they please and they were always searching for better fighting events where they could make more money. It wasn’t unusual for them to move from House to House, as long as the Heads of Houses would take them in. The captive fighters were treated more like slaves, completely subjugated and powerless against their captors.

  Some of the Heads of Houses were pureblood humans, but others were members of the supernatural community with magic of their own. Human elite and some rich people with supernatural abilities paid huge sums of money to watch the fights and bet on their outcome. The Heads of Houses were basking in money. Cold and indifferent to everything besides their bottom-line, they didn’t care how many supernatural fighters were killed during the brutal combats. After all – the fighters were nothing but low-life monsters no one was missing, and the Heads of Houses thought they were doing humanity a favor by keeping them off the streets.

  If Yaroslav was held captive, Gunz couldn’t leave him in this situation. After a few months of fighting in the underground pits as an unattached fighter, he had finally heard something that made him believe Yaroslav was indeed fighting as a captive fighter for the California House. It was nothing but some stories and gossips about an undefeated California captive who was a tall vampire with long blond hair. The fighters were whispering it in dark corners, repeating it over and over and every time the story seemed to change a little. It was all Gunz had for now, which was better than nothing.

  Now, getting from the Florida fighting pits into California’s and penetrating the captive circles, that was another matter entirely and he wasn’t sure he could easily do it. Also, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that the fighter he heard of was indeed Yaroslav and was hoping to confirm this thought during dinner with Mr. Kogan.

  Gunz took a quick shower in unpleasant cold water and got dressed. Just as he finished, he heard a soft knock on his door. He opened the door and found Mr. Kogan’s bodyguard towering in the doorframe, his square shoulders covering most of the view. The bodyguard glanced down at Gunz with a smirk and stepped aside.

  “Gunz?” he asked.

  “Yes. Were you expecting someone else?” As if he doesn�
��t know, thought Gunz, suppressing the desire to wipe the arrogant smirk right off the face of the giant.

  “Mr. Kogan is expecting you.” He pointed at the black limo parked on the parking lot in front of his motel.

  It was quite unusual to see a new car, much less a limo, in this area, and Gunz decided to move quickly so he wouldn’t attract too much attention. He followed the bodyguard to the limo where the giant jackass opened the back door for him with the same arrogant smirk on his face and it took Gunz all his resolve not to knock his teeth out.

  Gunz went into the limo and sat down across from Mr. Kogan. The Head of House was dressed in an expensive pinstripe suit and a white shirt with a black tie, looking as immaculate as ever. He glanced at Gunz’s plain black jeans and shirt and a light smile crossed his face. Gunz noticed that and cringed inside.

  “Sorry, sir, I don’t own a suit,” he said calmly. “I hope the way I’m dressed is not a problem.”

  “No problem whatsoever,” said Mr. Kogan, chuckling. “At first, I was going to take you to a restaurant, but then I thought that you would feel a lot more comfortable if we had dinner in the privacy of my mansion. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Gunz noticed that whenever Mr. Kogan felt uncomfortable, he chuckled. “I don’t mind, sir. After all, it’s your treat, your choice of venue. But since we’re outside the pits and there is no one here, let’s be honest,” said Gunz with a lopsided smirk. “The real reason you decided to take me to your home is because you would feel uncomfortable being seen in the company of one of your fighters. Am I correct?”

  Mr. Kogan stared at him for a moment, his mouth open, then he chuckled again, shaking his head. “A fighter who has brains. Go figure,” he muttered, giving Gunz a quick tap on his shoulder. “I do like you, Gunz.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” replied Gunz, leaning back against the soft leather seat.

  “Let me ask you, Gunz, where did you learn to fight like this?” asked Mr. Kogan, also relaxing in his seat. “I’ve never seen anyone as powerful and brutal in hand-to-hand combat as you are. And that’s without using your magic.”

  “Many different places, sir,” replied Gunz evasively, lowering his eyes.

  “Have you served?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I thought as much,” continued Mr. Kogan with a light flick of his hand. “The way you address me, the way you move. It shows. Is that where you learned to fight? The military?”

  “No, sir. I did learn a few things while I served, but mostly – in many different places.”

  “I guess, you’re not going to let me ask you any personal questions, are you?” Mr. Kogan chuckled again, but it wasn’t his usual uncomfortable chuckle. His smile seemed to be genuine and openhearted.

  “You can ask all the questions you want, sir. I can’t stop you,” replied Gunz with a shrug, “but most likely, I’m not going to answer.”

  Mr. Kogan raised his eyebrows, staring at Gunz with amusement. “You know, I’ve never had such an interesting fighter working for me,” he said folding his arms. He was about to say something else when the car came to a screeching halt.

  Gunz heard a light noise outside and frowned. The noise was so soft that a normal person wouldn’t notice, but to him it sounded like an alarm bell. “Are we at your house, sir?” he asked quietly. Mr. Kogan peeked outside and shook his head no, his face a sickening gray color.

  Gunz extended his senses probing the area around the car. He could sense three people standing in front of the limo and one at the front passenger side. He didn’t have a lot of time for more observations as the dry click of a cocked weapon reached his ears. He seized Mr. Kogan’s shoulder, roughly pushing him to the floor.

  “Stay here and don’t move until I come back for you,” he hissed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his knife and turned it into the sword. Gunz opened the door on the driver’s side and quietly slipped out of the limo. He opened his sight and registered that the attackers weren’t human. All four of them were demons.

  Stealthily, he moved along the length of the limo and carefully peeked inside the driver’s window. Both the driver and the bodyguard were dead, their throats cut so skillfully that they didn’t have a chance to scream, let alone fight back.

  Gunz walked out into the open and halted in front of the car, touching the nearest demon with his sword. All three of them spun around and glared at him. He felt the nauseating touch of their demonic energy as they scanned him, and identical wolfish snarls stretched their lips. One of them whistled and the fourth demon joined them.

  “What do we have here?” said the fourth demon, stepping closer to Gunz. “An itty-bitty wizard who brought a knife to a gun fight. Hey boy, your magical energy signature is so feeble, I wonder if you even know that you’re a wizard. Well, let me be the one to tell you – you’re a wizard, Harry!”

  Gunz cocked his head, staring at the demon with a crooked grin. “Thanks, bro, I had no idea.”

  He extended his clenched fist forward and slowly unlocked his fingers, one at a time. An energy orb, crackling with blue electrical discharges, twirled in the palm of his hand. The demon gasped but had no time to react. Gunz pushed the energy orb through the demon’s chest. The monster yelped and collapsed, a bleeding, gaping hole in his chest. A dark shadow separated from the dead body and shimmered into the ground.

  The other three demons shouted all at once and charged Gunz, their rage making them forget about caution. Gunz touched the blade of his sword and whispered, “Ignius.” The blade went up in flames and he laughed, basking in the energy of his element.

  He swung his flaming sword, decapitating the nearest demon. With his arms outstretched, one of the remaining two demons jumped on his back, dragging him down to the ground as he landed on his shoulders. Quickly regrouping, Gunz rolled to his side and conjured a fireball. As the demon started to rise, he propelled the fireball at him. The fire reached the target, setting the demon ablaze.

  The last demon stared at Gunz, his eyes wide with fear. He took a step back and raised his hands up. Gunz quickly closed the distance between them and seized the demon’s shirt with one hand, lifting him slightly off the ground.

  “Who sent you?” hissed Gunz, putting the tip of his blade under the demon’s jaw.

  “If I tell you, he’ll kill me,” the bug-eyed demon managed to say.

  Gunz laughed coldly. “And what do you think I’m going to do if you don’t tell me what I want to know?”

  The demon squirmed in his grip, and Gunz applied some pressure on his sword, drawing a few drops of blood.

  “Sorry, but he’s a lot scarier than you,” hissed the demon. The dark shadow separated from the body and the demon shimmered away, leaving the silent dead body behind.

  “Dammit,” Gunz hissed, dropping the corps to the ground.

  He found Mr. Kogan still crouching on the floor of the limo. When he opened the door, the older man gasped and turned around sharply, his face locked in fear.

  “It just me,” said Gunz, shaking the dirt off his clothes. “You’re safe now, sir, but both your driver and your bodyguard were killed by the attackers.”

  Mr. Kogan climbed out of the limo and walked around. He stopped in front of the car, observing four dead demons in disbelief.

  “You killed the four of them? Alone?” he whispered, raising his eyes at Gunz.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Gunz. He pulled the bodies of the bodyguard and the driver out of the limo and looked at the Head of House. “What do you want me to do with the bodies? I can burn them.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” mumbled Mr. Kogan. “Just pull them into the shrubbery and I’ll send the cleaners over.”

  Gunz touched his sword, turning it back into a knife and hid it in his pocket. Then he pulled the corpses to the side of the road, camouflaging them in the shrubbery and headed back to the limo. He opened the back passenger door, gesturing at Mr. Kogan to get in.

  “Have a seat, Mr. Kogan,” he said with an encouraging smi
le. “Seems that tonight, I’ll be your driver and your bodyguard.”

  “If you don’t mind, I would prefer to ride in front, with you,” said Mr. Kogan, still a little shaken after everything that had just happened.

  Gunz silently opened the front passenger door, letting him in. As he started to drive away, Mr. Kogan pulled his phone out and made a call, ordering the cleaners. Then he gave Gunz the directions to his house and finally relaxed in his seat.

  “Sir, do you know who would want to send four demons after you?” asked Gunz without looking at the Head of Florida House.

  Mr. Kogan shrugged. “Competition. Possibly, someone from the other House wants to encroach on my territory.” He thought for a moment and then stared at Gunz with narrowed eyes. “Or it’s possible that these demons were sent after you, not after me.”

  “I’m no one,” said Gunz, shaking his head. “Why would anyone want to send assassins after me?”

  “Maybe you were no one, but not anymore,” objected Mr. Kogan. “I’m sure word of your victories in the pits and your fighting style spread around. Any Head of any House would love to have you as their captive.”

  “Captive?” Gunz frowned.

  “Yes, a captive fighter,” repeated Mr. Kogan. “A fighter with your skills is priceless as a captive. Just think about it. Fights in the captive circles are a lot more profitable. Besides, I don’t have to pay the captive fighters, and I don’t have to worry they will leave me to work for my competition. So, yeah… A fighter like you is worth his weight in gold as a captive.”

  So is a fighter like Yaroslav, thought Gunz, furiously squeezing the steering wheel.

  A few minutes later, Gunz drove through the gates and stopped the car in front of the entrance into a large Victorian style mansion. With his thoughts on Yaroslav’s situation, he threw a quick glance at it and smirked, rolling his eyes at its splendor. The Head of Florida House didn’t feel shy about showing off his wealth, built on blood and sweat of his fighters. He walked around the limo and opened the door for Mr. Kogan. The man walked out of the car and gave him an appraising once-over.