by N M Thorn
She pulled back into the carriage, closing the door, and the horses took off, running away from the theater.
“Igneous Orbus Amplio!” Petrukha shouted and a massive fireball materialized in his hand. Touching it with his finger he added, “Illucious”, infusing it with the purifying energy of creation and propelled it at the carriage with all the strength he had, immediately casting another spell to lock Donna Luna inside it.
The magically conjured fire, amplified by the purifying energy, engulfed it, turning it into a giant torch in a heartbeat. The demoness tried to break his spell but to no avail, and her screams and curses reached his ears, echoing through the empty street. A few minutes later, there was nothing left of the monster.
“It all ends with fire…” Petrukha whispered. But as he watched the dark swirls of smoke rise high into the midnight sky, he cursed quietly and took off running, realizing that even though he got rid of the demoness, the signal to the uprising was still sent.
With his heart beating desperately against his ribcage, he burst through the doors into a stable and kept running until he reached the last stall, a neighing of spooked horses accompanying his progress. Although the stall stood dark and empty, he walked inside, muttering a summoning spell. The air before him lit up with a brilliant white light and when it dwindled, a beautiful horse stood before him, its white coat in stark contrast with its black mane and tail.
Petrukha approached the horse and wrapped his arms around its neck, pressing his cheek to its warm coat.
“Thank you for coming, my friend,” he whispered, pulling away. “I need you to do me one last favor…”
The horse neighed, nodding its head. He mounted it, easily rising on its back, and it took off, galloping at full speed toward the palace. As they reached the tall building of the palace, Petrukha jumped off the horse and ran without slowing down until he reached Peter’s chamber. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the heavy oak door and opened it without waiting for an invitation.
The room was dark. The light of a single candle was too weak to fight the gathering darkness. Peter sat behind his desk, a thick book in heavy leather binding opened before him. He raised his head, staring at Petrukha puzzled. The fool bowed low, brushing the floor with his fingers.
“It’s time, great Tsar.” He crossed the room and picked up a small, silver box sitting on Peter’s desk. Opening the lid, he looked inside, and the corners of his mouth lifted just a touch. A single silver ring with a black stone embedded into it lay on the cushion of red silk. He took the ring out, placing it on the desk, and then put the pieces of the broken mask inside and closed the box, whispering a short spell. For a heartbeat, the box lit up with the barely noticeable glimmer of his magic. Then he gave it to Peter, gesturing at the door. “No matter what you do, keep this box safe. Your horse is waiting for you by the door, my lord. Ride like the wind, gather your army and fight for what is rightfully yours!”
Peter walked around the desk and placed his hand on Petrukha’s shoulder. “Thank you, my friend,” he said softly, taking the box. “I will never forget.”
Petrukha lowered to one knee and pressed his fist to his chest, inclining his head. “I’m yours to command, great Tsar.”
He rose to his feet after the young Tsar left the room and shook his head, his features turning hard.
“The demoness was right. It isn’t over,” he whispered, staring at the closed door. “For as long as the forces of Darkness fight the army of Light, it’ll never be over. But at least I can make sure she’ll never find what she was looking for. Neither here nor in the Dark Nav…”
Petrukha snapped his fingers and vanished from the room.
Chapter 1
~ Damian Blake ~
Blue Creek, Arizona
The large, orange disk of the moon hung low over the horizon, bathing the dark suburban neighborhood in its soft light. Despite the late hour, it was still too hot to be comfortable, and the asphalt road emitting additional waves of heat didn’t improve the situation. The wind-deprived air felt stuffy, and the silence of the scorching evening seemed to be too heavy to be natural.
Damian halted in front of a dark intersection and raised his arm to stop Jamie. The young wizard halted by his side and pointed at a dark house on the south-east corner, across the road. Damian nodded and sharpened his senses, quickly scanning the area. A barely noticeable spike in the magical energy field attracted his attention, and he channeled his magic, opening his other sight.
“Dammit,” he cursed, frowning.
The magical energy flowed around the house in unsteady waves, spiking up and dropping to nearly nothing like some crazy EKG of a monstrous heart. Some of it was basic protective magic—a turn-away spell cast to keep humans as far away as possible. Besides that, he detected a strange, dark energy he couldn’t identify right away. It was pulsing in short, continuous bursts, dark-purple flares accentuating each spike, aligning with the overall uneven flow of magical energy around the building.
What bothered him the most, however, was that this unusual pulsating magic completely blocked his second sight, and he couldn’t see what was going on inside of the building. The idea that someone was powerful enough to block his other sight made his skin crawl with the expectation of trouble, and he tensed, channeling more of his magical energy toward his eyes to enhance his vision.
“What do you see?” Jamie asked, shifting closer to him.
“River was right,” Damian replied in a soft whisper, wishing with all his heart that she wasn’t. “I have no idea how she does it, but whenever she tells me that her case is supernatural, she’s always right.”
“Do you know what we’re dealing with?” Jamie shivered, rubbing his arms with his hands as if he were cold in this unusually steamy ninety-five degrees evening. “I can’t get rid of the feeling that I need to leave this place and never come back.” He huffed, catching Damian’s reproachful stare. “Yeah, I know—a turn-away spell. I’m not gonna fall for it. You taught me well.”
“Good, don’t. I need you to keep it together…” Damian stared into the darkness behind the house and reached out to his brother through their blood bond. “Cole, are you in position?”
“Aye, aye, Captain. We’re in position,” Cole replied immediately, his voice sounding loud and clear in Damian’s mind.
Damian stifled a sigh, thinking about his brother’s inability to stay serious no matter how severe the situation was. “You’re a lot closer to the house. Can you detect any supernatural presence?”
For a few seconds, Cole remained silent, then his voice sounded in Damian’s mind again, humorous vibes replaced by tones of concern. “A few vampires. Not mine. Either rogues or visitors from other states… Well, that’s a big problem, and I need to handle it later.” Cole stopped talking, and the short pause he took felt like an hour-long silence to Damian’s stretched nerves. “Do me a favor, big bro. If you come across vampires, keep at least one of them alive if possible. I would like to ask them a few questions…”
“You got it,” replied Damian. “Any other supernatural presence?”
“Yes,” replied Cole. “Demons, at least two or three, judging by the amount of demonic essence they’re emitting. Oh, and Atticus thinks there are a bunch of shifters among them. Most likely swords for hire.”
“Jeez,” muttered Damian, wondering why this completely unremarkable suburban house was guarded like a medieval fortress. “Okay. I believe there are wards around the place, so Jamie and I go first. If River is right, there could be humans inside. So, be careful. Don’t go happy-go-lucky on me.”
“Oh, no, and here I was going to rush in, guns blazing.” Cole snickered, and Damian could almost see his brother rolling his eyes.
“You and Atticus stay back and wait for my signal,” he replied, ignoring Cole’s sarcasm.
“What signal?”
“You’ll know it when you see it.” Damian severed their link and seized Jamie’s elbow, directing him toward the house.
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br /> They crossed the road, and Damian halted by the decorative fence surrounding the property. The house was large—eight to nine thousand square feet, if not more by the looks of it. The only two-story building on the block, it stood out like a sore thumb, and he had to wonder why someone would pick this place if they wanted to stay under the radar of local human and supernatural authorities. The windows of the house were dark, shaded by thick curtains, and nothing seemed to be moving either inside the building or in its front yard.
Damian squatted, placed his palm flat against the ground, and sent a touch of his elemental energy through it. The small area of the fence in front of him lit up with a barely perceptible purple glow, and a chain of tiny, shimmering runes shone along the perimeter of the property for a heartbeat before vanishing.
Damian got up and turned to Jamie. “Did you see it?”
“Wards?” replied Jamie, shoving his hands into the pockets of his track pants.
Damian noticed his move but managed to stop himself from smiling. A few months ago, Jamie had touched the wards and activated them, giving away their presence to their enemies. He had obviously learned his lesson, and now he kept his hands firmly locked in his pockets to make sure he wouldn’t touch anything he wasn’t supposed to.
He got up, straightening his jeans, and nodded at Jamie. “Well, they are wards, but they are not built to keep anything supernatural out. They’re built to alert whoever is inside as soon as someone with magic crosses the property line.” He brushed his palms together, getting rid of the sand. “It’s a supernatural alarm system.”
“Can you disable it without activating the alarm?” asked Jamie, his troubled gaze traveling across the property, settling on the dark house.
“No. I need to use my magic to disable the wards, but these wards are designed to react to anything magical.” Damian frowned, considering different options, but none of them looked good. “Unfortunately, this protective magic also blocks my other sight, so I have no idea how many monsters are waiting for us on the inside or where they are.”
Jamie shrugged, and his eyes lit up with the soft reddish glow of his magic, determination reflected on his face. “Then we do what we always do,” he said quietly. “We make an entrance they will never forget.”
“You are learning.” Damian tapped Jamie’s shoulder and reached out to his brother. “Cole, there are alarm-type wards around the property. There is no way to get in quietly. Tell Atticus to be ready. We’re going to go in first.”
“Ready.” Cole’s voice sounded in his mind like the low, dangerous growl of a predator.
“Jamie, now.” Damian channeled his magic to his hands and shouted, pointing at the fence, “Exitius!”
The fence blew up with a thunderous bang, showering them with shards of wood, dust and debris. The wards crashed, and the ear-splitting sound of the supernatural alarms rang through the sleepy neighborhood. A few dogs replied with gut-wrenching howls that made the small hairs rise on the back of Damian’s neck. A flock of birds went up in the air, their screeches adding to the cacophony of the alarm.
Damian held out his arms, and his daggers materialized in his hands, blazing in the surrounding darkness. He stepped through the opening he had created, registering from the corner of his eye that Jamie was following him. Opening his second sight, he ran soundlessly across the front yard toward the entrance into the house.
Halting on the circular driveway, he channeled more of his magic toward his hands, ready to break the door, when it opened with a soft squeak and remained ajar, exposing a lightless room behind it. Jamie came to a screeching halt, grabbing Damian’s elbow.
“It’s a trap,” he exhaled, staring into the black rectangle of the doorway as if it were the maw of a monster.
“Of course, it is,” murmured Damian, unable to hide his amusement. “Let’s see who’ll get trapped, though. I bet you a hundred dollars, it’s not us.”
“Make it two,” replied Jamie, his hands clenching into fists.
“Perfect. Now, give me some light, boy!” Damian laughed, adrenalin surging through him. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and spread his arms, connecting with his element. As the energy of Earth flowed freely through his body, he redirected it toward the house.
The entire building shook, tremors running through its walls. Damian took a step forward and twisted his arm, drawing a shining circle in the air with his blazing dagger. The tremors became stronger, the front wall wobbling as if it were made of jelly. Damian whispered a spell and drew another circle in the air.
A part of the front wall surrounding the doorway separated from the house, ripped by his magic. Deep fractures ran in every direction, but the building didn’t collapse. For a brief moment, Damian held the chunk of wall suspended in mid-air, every muscle of his body tense with strain. Then he screamed and pushed his arms forward. The piece of wall flew through the opening into the house, exploding into a cloud of wood slivers and pieces of concrete. Loud screams of horror and cries of pain followed his move.
Jamie raised his arm, muttering a spell, and a swarm of tiny light orbs materialized over his hand. He flicked his wrist toward the building, and the orbs obeyed his command, zooming into the house.
“Ask and you shall receive.” A winning grin split Jamie’s face. “Light for you, my lord.”
The light orbs illuminated a large hall covered in pieces of wood, slivers of glass, dust and other debris. There was no furniture in the room and the space was wide open with no place to hide. Two hallways ran in opposite directions, leading into the darkness. A group of dark figures cowered by the back wall, their eyes igniting with an angry glimmer as they started to recover from the initial shock. Jamie’s magical orbs hovered above them, throwing flares of light against their blades and firearms.
Damian didn’t need to use his other sight to know they were shifters for hire, their powerful energy signatures unmistakable from such close proximity.
“Shifters,” hissed Jamie, unsheathing his sword.
“You’re better off with your gun. Use the silver bullets,” Damian whispered and crossed the threshold. At the same time, the clatter of broken glass and a furious slew of profanities sounded at the other end of the house. Damian’s mouth twisted into a dark smile as the sound of an ongoing fight confirmed that his brother was in, too.
The noise ripped the shifters out of their stupor, and the air around them shimmered as they started to transform. Soon, a pack of desert wolves stood before him, their light, sandy fur raised on their backs. With blood-curdling howls, they charged Damian and Jamie.
Damian spun in place, ducking the first monster as it leaped in the air. His arm went up, and the shining dagger cut through the wolf’s side and stomach, ripping it open. The monster fell to the floor next to his feet, his body convulsing as it transformed back into human form. The man’s hands clutched at his front and side, blood and entrails spilling out of the terrifying wound.
The sound of a gunshot rolled across the house, and another wolf fell, turning into a man on its way down. Damian didn’t wait to see what would happen next. Deadly and precise, his daggers worked their way through the pack of shifters, leaving disfigured bodies in their wake. The screams of pain and howls of anger filled the house, and the nauseating stench of spilled blood permeated the air.
Damian wasn’t sure how many shifters he killed. It was hard to count, especially since they kept shifting, taking on a different form every chance they had, but it seemed like they kept coming. Throwing a quick glance around, he noticed that the shifters outmaneuvered him, separating him from Jamie. A gunshot boomed on his right, letting him know that the young wizard was still standing. He sharpened his senses, and over the howls of the wolves, he heard the cacophony of a battle unfolding in the other part of the house, suggesting that Cole and Atticus were still fighting.
“On your left, Commander!” A tiny, high-pitched voice sounded in Damian’s head, causing him to flinch. He knew it wasn’t Cole, and he had
no idea whose voice invaded his mind, but he had no time to think about it. Jumping aside, he spun to the left just in time to see the giant body of an honest-to-God lion rising in the air, its massive paws with hooked claws aimed at him.
He yelped and ducked out of the way, but one of the paws caught his shoulder, sending him tumbling to the floor slick with blood. He skidded on his back, hitting the wall with his injured shoulder and arm. His fingers unlocked, and the daggers fell on the tiled floor, their metallic clatter swallowed by the deafening roar of the monstrous animal. A cry of pain escaped his lips as he struggled to get back to his feet. Another roar rolled through the room, and then his brother’s furious voice rose over the mayhem.
“Hey, lion! King of assholes!” Cole shouted somewhere at the other end of the room. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size.”
The lion snapped around, its thick mane flowing with its move, and now Damian could see Cole standing with the glowing sword in his hand, a giant black wolf by his side. The wolf growled, exposing its terrifying fangs dripping with fresh blood, and Cole laughed in response, his ominous, dark laughter promising nothing good to the remaining shifters for hire.
Using the opportunity to regroup, Damian pushed off the floor, rising to his feet with a strenuous groan. The lion snapped back to him, baring its fangs in a low growl, his foul breath engulfing Damian’s senses.
“Procedia Amnia!” Damian shouted, pressing his back against the wall as he summoned his daggers.
Cold perspiration covered his forehead when he realized that if the lion charged him now, he wouldn’t be able to deflect the attack, praying for his basic protection spell to hold back the powerful supernatural animal. At the same time, the black wolf jumped forward. Cole screamed, terror in his voice, and sped toward him.
