by N M Thorn
Gunz sat back on his heels, staring up into the endless darkness of the ceiling and squeezed the vial in his fist. The glass cracked, its sharp edges slicing his skin and the clear thick liquid mixed with his blood spilled down his arm, trickling on the floor and quickly getting absorbed by the sand.
He felt a twinge of physical pain and brought his hand up, gaping at the bleeding cuts on his palm. Then he pressed his hands to his face, leaning forward and his whole body shuddered in agonizing sobs. He was tortured, shot and beat up before, but the agony that devastated his soul now was by far the worst pain he had ever experienced.
As the last drops of the potion were swallowed by the sand, all his hopes disintegrated and endless despair drowned him, crushing him with the realization that he just killed the woman he loved. Again. Feeling numb all over, he turned around and rested his back against the cold stone table.
He couldn’t say how long he had been sitting in the cave. The clear, human tears were slowly sliding down his cheeks, but he didn’t even register that he was crying. After a while, he got up and threw his last gaze at the sacrificial table under which Angelique was lying, forever entwined with their mortal enemy.
“I love you, Angie,” he whispered into the unyielding silence of the cave. “I will always love you. Please forgive me…”
He waved his hand, opening the Fire Salamander’s portal and passed through it.
Gunz walked out of his portal into his bedroom and dropped on the bed without undressing. He closed his eyes, allowing exhaustion to quiet down his wounded heart. The night embraced him with the tender touch of a lover, and he relinquished his pain to its warm reassurance and solace.
And there was nothing.
No thoughts. No pain. Just a blissful nothingness. And at this moment, that was what he wanted, what he needed.
He wasn’t sure if he was sleeping or if his mind finally shut down, but when he felt a soft touch to his shoulder, he had no strength to open his eyes, his eyelids too heavy to move, his lips too numb to form coherent words.
The touch was gentle and persistent at the same time. He felt someone’s fingers moving down his chest, raising his shirt and touching the bare skin of his stomach. He finally managed to open his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Angie…” he whispered, “but how—”
“Shh…” She pressed her finger to her lips and smiled.
He recognized the very same smile he loved so much, yet he couldn’t believe his eyes. He stared up at her, afraid to move or say a word. It couldn’t be real and if it was a vision or a dream, he didn’t want it to end.
She leaned forward and kissed him, her soft lips pressing against his, as her hands moved down, tugging at the waistband of his pants. Everything inside him flipped upside down. It wasn’t just the desire he felt for her. It was a basic need to be with her, to see her, to hear her voice. That was all he wanted.
Angelique pulled away and gazed down at him, her eyes gleaming with love and tenderness. Her hands slowly found the bottom of his shirt and bunched it up to expose his chest. Her fingers traced the shape of his muscles and her eyes got darker with desire.
“Oh, Angie, my love,” he exhaled, “are you real? Are you just a dream? I don’t care… just don’t leave me…”
She smiled again, her finger stopped circling on his chest and halted above his heart. “I’m real,” she answered, new, different notes surfacing in her voice, “and I’m your dream… a nightmare to be precise.”
Gunz felt a stabbing pain in his chest and jerked up, but she pressed on his shoulder, holding him down, her right hand still above his heart. He glanced down and gasped. Angelique’s hand changed. Her sharp, long nails dug into his skin, small pools of his blood rising under each of her fingers.
“You don’t want me to leave you? That’s priceless! You left me! Alone, in the dark, tied up to your mortal enemy,” hissed Angelique and Gunz didn’t recognize her voice.
He raised his eyes and held his breath. It was still the face he remembered and loved so much, but the eyes… They were gleaming with a sinister yellow light, the serpent-like dark-red vertical slits of pupils, pulsing with hate. They were the eyes of the Skiper-Zmey.
“You’re not her, Zmey. Get out of my head,” growled Gunz, struggling to get free of the monster’s hold to no avail. Just like in any nightmare, his muscles turned into mush, he was slow and weak, helpless against his powerful enemy.
“Oh, I’m Angelique, all right.” Angelique’s lips stretched into an ugly, terrifying snarl. “You killed me twice, my little lover. And you dare to ask me for forgiveness? NEVER! You hear me? I will never forgive you, Zane Burns!”
Gunz moaned. With his body filled with lead, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even speak. Angelique’s right arm went up and he saw a large blade, reflecting the light of the full moon. Her fingers squeezed the handle of the knife, her knuckles white, her tender face contorted with hatred as she plunged the blade down, directing it at his heart...
The loud shrill of the phone slashed his nightmare, shattering it into pieces. Gunz gasped, jolting up and fell off the bed on the floor, panting. The phone was still ringing, and he stared around wildly, searching for it. He picked up the device with trembling hands and answered the call.
“Zane, I’m sorry for the late-night call—”
He heard Aidan’s voice and laughed, a dry barking sound. “Aidan, thank God, you called,” he managed to say finally.
“Are you okay?” asked Aidan with notes of concern. “You don’t sound good.”
“I am”—Gunz swallowed, wiping the cold sweat off his face, his mind finally clear—“I’ll be fine, Aidan. What’s up?”
Aidan cleared his throat. “Zane, I need your help,” he said finally. “It’s Tessa.”
First this terrible nightmare, now this, Gunz thought, getting off the floor and lowering himself on the bed heavily. “What’s going on with Tessa?” he asked, dread spreading through him.
“I don’t know,” replied Aidan. “All I know is that she left the Guardians HQ two and a half weeks ago without telling anyone about it and no one has heard of her since.”
“Are you at your penthouse?” asked Gunz, heading toward the washroom.
“Yes,” replied Aidan.
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” he promised, hanging up the phone.
Gunz cleaned up quickly and changed his clothes. His bedroom was still dark, but the last traces of the distressing nightmare were gone. He grabbed his Swiss army knife and waved his hand, unfolding the smoldering curtain of his portal.
“Fire Salamander – go,” he said quietly and stepped through the fire.
Book Four: Excerpt
Read on for an excerpt from
N.M. Thorn’s new book:
The Fire Salamander Chronicles. Book 4
~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~
Modern day
Miami Beach, South Florida
The narrow suburban street was dark and empty. Every single streetlight was out, and nothing was moving in the dead of night. The approaching tropical storm was making its presence known by driving the winds and veiling the dark sky with heavy clouds. The palm trees bent their crowns and the soft hissing of ruffled leaves accompanied every gust.
Even though it wasn’t raining yet, Gunz could feel the gathering moisture in the air and his Salamander senses were screaming bloody murder, warning him about the presence of the opposing element.
“Is this the place Akira told you to check out?” Gunz asked, throwing a quick glance at Yaroslav.
The vampire nodded, slowly unsheathing his katana. He was dressed all in black, but his long golden hair was semaphoring his presence from far away.
“I don’t sense anything,” said Aidan approaching them.
Another one with blond hair, Gunz thought and chuckled. “You guys should wear something to cover your hair. I can see you from a mile away, even in complete darkness.”
“So what?” Yarosl
av shrugged nonchalantly with a wide grin that showed the points of his long fangs. “Let them see me – I welcome any monster who is fast enough to catch my hair.”
“Shh,” whispered Aidan, his eyes slightly glowing with the white light of his magic. He extended his arm, muttering something under his breath and a long sword materialized in his hand. As Aidan raised his sword assuming the combat stance, the weapon glistened like an icicle, looking deadly in his hands. “Something is coming.”
Gunz expanded his Salamander senses, probing the area and nodded to Aidan, confirming his statement. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Swiss army knife, turning it into a sword. There was something in the area that hadn’t been here just a few minutes ago and its menacing presence was getting stronger with every passing moment.
“Well, that’s a new one,” murmured Aidan, jerking his chin toward the road as six large SUVs with tinted windows came to a screeching halt in front of them.
“No shit,” muttered Gunz, bringing his sword to his shoulder. He squeezed the grip of his sword tighter, wondering why the blade felt heavier than usual.
At least eight men walked out of each vehicle and spread around surrounding them from every direction. The dark energy of their ominous magic overwhelmed his senses and he grunted, channeling his elemental power and magic. As the flames went up in his eyes, he felt Aidan stepping next to him ready to fight.
“Aw, so much fun!” Yaroslav laughed, flashing his vampiric grin as he took his position, back-to-back with them.
A split-second later, the air was thick with the strikes of dark magical energy and the stench of demonic essence as all men charged them at the same time.
“Protect Yaroslav,” Aidan hissed into Gunz’s ear as he channeled his power.
“Praecidio Amnia,” muttered Gunz, manifesting a thick power-shield around the vampire. Then he turned to Aidan and yelled, “Now!”
A blast of white light expanded around Aidan, assailing the advancing enemies. Gunz expected them to fall back as neither demons, vampires nor any other types of supernatural beings could withstand a full assault of Aidan’s godly powers. To his shock, the men staggered back just a little, moved by the sheer force of the blast, but none of them suffered even a mild injury.
“What the hell?” Aidan hissed, gathering more of his power. But the second blast produced just as little effect as the first one.
“My turn,” growled Gunz, watching Aidan wrap his own protection shield around Yaroslav. “Ignius Amplio!”
His sword went up in flames and a smoldering jet of fire hit the advancing men straight in their chests. The fire flowed around them doing no damage whatsoever. Gunz increased the heat and potency of his fire strike to no avail. The fire magic seemed to be useless against them and using his elemental power wasn’t an option as he was in the middle of a suburban neighborhood.
“Aidan, take this shield off of me,” yelled Yaroslav, his eyes lighting up with a hungry scarlet glow. “Let’s do it the old style.”
As soon as Aidan brought down his shield, Yaroslav disappeared. He didn’t teleport, but he moved so fast it was impossible to see him without using the magical sight. Immediately, his katana wreaked havoc among the opposing party as they recovered from Gunz’s and Aidan’s assaults and moved forward.
The screams of pain and furious growls accompanied Yaroslav’s progress and the stench of blood, mixed with the reek of demonic energy filled the cool night air. Gunz and Aidan exchanged a quick look and joined Yaroslav, putting their swords to business.
Gunz channeled more of his fire through his sword making it burn brighter. He swung it down on one of the men, slicing him in two, and realized that he was just a demon – not even a demon in its pure form, but a human body possessed by demonic essence.
How is it possible that neither my fire magic nor Aidan’s godly powers worked against a run-of-the-mill demon? A thought flashed through his mind and quickly disappeared as he had no time to dwell on it. Three men attacked him at the same time, and he spun around, avoiding their direct strikes. His Salamander senses told him that two of his attackers were demons but the third one was a dark wizard, who was wielding not only magic but also a dangerously-looking sword, which meant he wouldn’t be easy to kill.
As fast as Gunz moved, he could never be as fast as Yaroslav and today he felt slower and heavier than usual. One of the demons caught his thigh with his sword and Gunz dropped to his knee, a pain-infused grunt escaping his lips. The dark wizard didn’t wait for him to recover and blasted him with a powerful magical strike. Gunz cried out and fell on his back. He hit the ground hard, losing his breath, and his fingers unlocked. His sword dropped on the warm asphalt with a loud clang.
The wizard cackled and struck him with his magic again, overwhelming his senses and sending his mind into a wild frenzy. The wizard raised his sword ready to push it through Gunz’s chest, and with horror, Gunz realized that he was completely immobilized by dark magic. Helpless and desperate, he watched the blade slowly lowering down, only one thought clear in his mind – if he died now, hundreds of humans would be dead in a split-second.
“No…” he exhaled, struggling against the hold of dark magic.
A second before the sharp end of the blade pierced his chest, the mighty strike of a katana deflected it. One more strike and the head of the dark wizard rolled off his shoulders, hitting the road with a sickening thud. Bright red blood pumped from the headless neck and a second later the dead body dropped to its knees and then collapsed forward. Before the lifeless corpse fell on top of Gunz, Yaroslav’s hand jerked him up to his feet.
“What’s wrong with you, Salamander,” hissed the vampire, thrusting Gunz’s sword back into his hand. “You’re slower and weaker than usual. If that’s even possible.”
Gunz rolled his eyes at him and sidestepped the next attacker, allowing Yaroslav to swing his katana one more time, slicing the demon in half.
“Yaroslav is right.”
Gunz heard Aidan’s voice somewhere on his left but ignored him, engaging the demon who attempted to punch him in the face. Easily avoiding his attack, he seized the demon’s arm flipping him over his hip. The demon fell to his side and Gunz twisted his arm up at a painful angle, while running his blade through his neck. The dark shadow of the demonic essence separated from the body and shimmered into the night.
The shrilling sound of police sirens sounded somewhere in the distance and flares of multicolored lights illuminated the air at the far end of the neighborhood. To Gunz’s surprise, the remaining men took off. They hopped into their SUVs and a heartbeat later all vehicles were gone.
Gunz lowered his sword, taking in his surroundings. At least fifteen dead bodies were sprawled motionless on the asphalt, their dead eyes staring into the dark sky. The severed heads and body parts were floating in puddles of blood. Aidan and Yaroslav stood with their bloodied blades down, their blond hair now more red than gold, their clothes torn and covered in scarlet stains of blood – theirs and their opponents.
The first drops of rain fell from the sky and Gunz flinched from the touch of water to his skin. The police sirens now sounded closer and he didn’t think that it was a good idea for local authorities to find the three of them standing with their swords over a pile of dead bodies. FBI agent or not, Jim would have a hard time explaining all of that to the police as well as to his superiors.
“Aidan, Yaroslav, you need to leave,” he said, turning to his friends. “I’ll take care of the dead bodies. Police can’t see this battle field.”
“How are you going to do it, Pyro?” Aidan asked, a light smirk playing on his face covered in blood splutters. “You can’t use your elemental power here and fire magic won’t do the trick fast enough.”
“I can’t,” agreed Gunz, returning his smirk, “but I know someone who can. Now leave, both of you.”
Aidan’s lips parted, forming the shape of letter “O” and he nodded to Yaroslav. “I’ll see you both tomorrow for training in
my school.” He snapped his fingers and vanished from the street.
“Zane,” said Yaroslav wiping his katana on the ripped sleeve of his shirt, “are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Yes,” replied Gunz impatiently, “but I need you to leave, Slavik. Something tells me, you are not going to appreciate the fire show.”
A wide grin split the vampire’s face and he was gone in a heartbeat. Gunz raised his hand up and tapped his finger on the surface of his wristwatch.
“Mishka, I need your help,” he said quietly.
With a light pop, Mishka the wyvern materialized in front of him.
“I’m here, boss, what can I—”
The wyvern fell silent, twirling in the air, circling above the improvised grave yard. As he returned to Gunz, a sarcastic glimmer shone in his igneous eyes.
“Wait. Don’t tell me,” said the wyvern hovering in the air in front of him. “Clean up on aisle three, Mr. Burns?”
Gunz nodded, guilt swirling through him. But as the bright lights of the approaching police vehicles lit up the street, he forgot about feeling guilty.
“Mishka, please,” he hissed, throwing his hands in the air. “I can’t leave this Deadsville for police to find! And I can’t use my elemental power around humans. So cut the crap and help me clean this mess up, would yah?”
Mishka huffed, rising back up in the air. “Fine, fine, but you’ll owe me one.”
“I owe you more than one, my friend.” Gunz chuckled, turning his sword back into the Swiss army knife and shoved it into his pocket. He waved his hand unfolding the fire curtain of his portal and turned around.
