by N M Thorn
“This is a preposterous statement and coming from a figure of authority like you, Master de la Crosse, it’s unacceptable.” She slammed her fist on the table, blinding fury taking hold of her. “This is the main reason humanity can’t count on the Destiny Council and their affiliates to keep us safe. As far as I am concerned, the underground supernatural fighting Houses are doing a much better job by cleaning our streets and keeping them supernatural-free and safe.”
Luc stared at her, slack-jawed. Slowly rising, he braced his fists against the table. “You can’t be seriously condoning modern-day slavery, gladiatorial fights, and the violation of human rights, Camila? Because this was what Amaris had been doing for years until Commander Blake put the end to this atrocity by destroying his evil kingdom and killing him.”
“Human rights?” she squealed, stomping her foot.
Turning toward Ruslan, she pointed at him with a shaking hand. Ruslan’s smile stretched wider as he allowed his true nature to take him over fully, and now, he looked positively terrifying, and that just added oil to the blazing fire of her righteous wrath.
“Does this monster look like a human to you, with his red eyes and shark-like fangs? Just look at his hands!” Ruslan lifted his hand with elongated fingers, ending in sharp claws, and waved at her, and she squealed furiously, all but hopping in place. “Wake up, Luc!” she shrilled. “What human rights violation are you talking about? They are not HUMANS!” She slammed her fist on the table again, fury radiating around her in thick waves. “And your Commander Blake is a rude, barbaric beast. I hope the Destiny Council flogs him to death for what he did. Amaris was the only person in Arizona who kept us all safe. She was the only one who kept all these supernatural animals under control.”
She spoke fast, barely taking a breath between words. Ricardo pressed his hand over his mouth, an expression of horror permanently etched into his features. Aaron shifted closer to her, his hands rising of their own volition. Shaking his head, he was trying to put a word in, but the floodgate had been opened, and Camila wasn’t paying attention to anything around her, her eyes, filled to the brim with hatred, drilling through Ruslan.
“Are you going to attack and kill Animal Control Officers for keeping dogs with rabies off the streets?” she continued passionately. “No! So, what’s so different here? None of these creatures are human, and I am proud to say that Mr. Cooper and I did everything in our power to help Amaris do her honorable job!”
A heavy silence enveloped the room. No one moved or said a word. Ruslan glanced at Cole and gave him a nod of approval, assuming his normal human look. Cole closed his eyes, dropping his tensed shoulders.
“Oh… mon… Dieu…” whispered Luc de la Crosse, staring at his human Warden with an appalled look in his wide-open eyes. “Aaron, why? You’ve been a Warden for most of your life. We accepted you as one of our own even though you didn’t have magic. I trusted you! The Destiny Council trusted you… What did you do?”
Aaron narrowed his eyes, lifting his chin.
“What do you think?” he asked, his high-pitched voice flat and even, as if he were reading a phone book. “I was just a boy when I joined the Wardens Order. I had nothing but my idealistic beliefs and the need for revenge, and I was sure by joining your Order, I would get everything I was looking for. As years passed, I realized just how wrong I had been, believing in you.” He shook his head and folded his arms, judgment reflected in his scornful stare. “And when you forced me to assist a vampire, running fucking errands for him, I had enough.”
“What exactly did you do, Aaron?” asked Luc, his soft voice barely audible. “Tell me the truth, and maybe I can ask for some kind of leniency when it’s time for you to face the Grand Master of the Wardens Order and the brotherhood.”
“What did I do?” He snickered, a maniacal grimace twisting his face. He took a deep breath, his caved-in chest expanding. “Everything. I did everything Amaris told me to do. Every word that I heard here, I delivered to her. I didn’t want to compromise my position by meeting with the Head of the Arizona House in person, so Camila was our close liaison.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully, but then shrugged defiantly and continued, “When Commander Blake reported to you about his plan to infiltrate the Arizona House with Ricardo’s help, I contacted Camila right away, and that’s how Amaris was able to entrap your Commander and this undead leech.”
His eyes darted to Cole, and unconcealed hatred darkened his features. Before Cole realized what Aaron was up to, he moved his hand behind his back and pulled out a wooden stake. With a wild shrill that didn’t resemble any sound produced by human vocal cords, Aaron launched at Cole.
“Aaron, no!” Luc shouted, reaching for the human Warden, but he was a moment too late to stop him.
Camila cackled, clapping her hands.
A dagger appeared in Jamie’s hand as he threw himself in Aaron’s way.
Cole burst out laughing.
Aaron’s holler of anger turned into a strangled wheeze.
“Are you serious, dude?” Ruslan stood with his left hand on his hip, holding Aaron by the scruff of his neck with his right hand, dangling him at least a foot above the ground. He turned Aaron slightly so he could see his face. “Did you seriously think you could be faster than two ancient vampires? The audacity!” He pursed his lips, wild twinkles of laughter dancing in his black eyes.
“Father,” Cole managed to say through bursts of laughter. “Dude? Where the hell did you learn to speak like that? You used to chastise me for polluting my language with modern-day slang.”
“Amaris’ guards called me that for three years. I think they beat it into me,” murmured Ruslan. He slammed Aaron flat on the floor, ignoring his groan of pain, and twisted his arms behind his back, holding him down. “What do you want me to do with him, Master de la Crosse?”
“I have to take him to the Wardens’ HQ in Paris,” replied Luc. He produced a pair of standard human handcuffs and restrained Aaron.
“Take her, too.” Ricardo, who sat silently through the entire conversation, got up and took his sister’s arm, ignoring her resistance and screams of protest. “I’m done. There is nothing I can do to make things right, but maybe your people still have a chance to fix whatever is broken in her head.”
“As you wish,” Luc replied with a sharp wave of his hand, and a portal opened in front of him. He seized Aaron and Camila’s arms, pushing them toward the rotating vortex, but halted there, glancing back at Cole. “It’s not going to take me long. Can you please wait for me here?” His eyes halted on Jamie, and a faint smile touched his lips. “You too, Jamie.”
As soon as Luc walked through the portal, taking his prisoners with him, Ricardo inhaled as if he had been holding his breath for a long time. His eyes darted from Cole to Ruslan, and he dropped his head, clenching his hands in front of him.
“I should apologize to you and Ruslan for everything I’ve done,” he said quietly, “but there are no words that can make any of it right.” He bit his lip and looked somewhere above Cole’s shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. “Ruslan, three years of pain and suffering… three years of your life…”
Ruslan smiled, barely lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “What is three years compared to thousands?”
Ricardo nodded, but the deep remorse never left his dark eyes. “Cole, I’m leaving Arizona,” he continued. “Your brother kept his word, and now, I’m finally free. It didn’t happen the way I expected, but I’ll take my freedom in any shape and form. I want to move on with my life, and to do so, I need to step away from all this supernatural crap.” He reached into his pocket and produced a set of keys, offering them to Cole. “My house has never belonged to me. It was owned by Amaris and his evil corporation. But now that he… she’s dead, I want you and Damian to have the collection of magical artifacts and weapons. You can do with it as you wish. Your SUV is parked in my garage. You can come over and get everything at any time.”
“Ricardo—,” Cole started, but Ricardo just
smiled with a half-hearted shrug.
“It’s my final decision,” he said softly. “I spent most of my life worrying about my sister’s wellbeing, doing things for her that made me disgusted with myself. And now…” His voice trailed off, and he took a deep breath. “Now, I’m going to start my life anew—a clean slate. I just hope I’ll find a way to atone for my sins.” His eyes slipped from Jamie to Ruslan and then halted on Cole. “I hope Damian is all right. I truly wish I could see him before I leave, but if I don’t… just tell him thank you. He saved me in more ways than one.”
He walked out of the room, and soon, a soft thud of the main door announced that he had left the shop.
“Poor bastard,” muttered Ruslan, lowering himself onto one of the chairs. “His sister, his own flesh and blood…” He shook his head and fell silent.
Luc came back sooner than Cole expected. He walked out of his portal, carrying a small leather bag over his shoulder. Even if he noticed that Ricardo was gone, he didn’t ask anything and halted in front of Jamie. The young wizard looked up at him and rose to his feet slowly, a question in his eyes. Luc smiled, warmth suffusing his features, wiping out the remains of tiredness.
“Jamie,” he said, taking the bag off his shoulder. “Yakov Bruce and I worked with you for a while, and we both agreed you have what it takes to be a valuable member of the Order.” He opened the bag and reached inside, his eyes never leaving Jamie’s. “With the blessing of the Grand Master of the Wardens Order, and in the presence of these two honorable witnesses, I would like to offer you the mantle of a Warden. Would you accept our humble offer, my young friend?”
Jamie threw a desperate and slightly lost glance at Cole, and he gave him an encouraging nod.
“Master de la Crosse,” he said. “I would love that, but Damian—”
“I know, you chose Commander Blake as your mentor, and I have nothing against it,” said Luc, interrupting him. “You can continue practicing combat magic with Damian whenever he has time. Becoming a Warden doesn’t stop you from doing that. As you’re well aware, Wardens are not only scholars but also trained warriors and powerful wizards.”
“Do it, Jamie,” said Cole. “I’m sure Damian will support your choice, too.”
Jamie turned to Luc and smiled his shy smile that turned his eyes into two narrow arches. “I guess it’s a yes then.”
Luc exhaled with relief and pulled a folded piece of white linen out of the bag. He unfolded and placed a long white cloak with the red insignia of the Wardens Order embroidered on it over Jamie’s shoulders.
“The official initiation ceremony is in five days in Paris,” he said, readjusting the folds of the cloak. “The Grand Master would like to welcome you himself. In the meantime, this store and all the local Wardens affairs are yours. If you stay behind for a few hours, I can walk you through some of your responsibilities.” He reached into his pocket and produced a set of keys, offering them to Jamie. “Effective immediately, you’re on the Wardens payroll.”
Cole exchanged a quick look with Ruslan, and both got up. “I guess it’s our cue to leave.” He inclined his head in a light bow, ready to walk out, but Luc stopped him.
“Cole, the Grand Master of the Wardens Order tried to get in touch with Lord Magnus to ask about Damian’s situation, but he couldn’t find him anywhere. I’m sorry, mon ami,” he said, stifling a sigh. “I’m sure Damian will be back soon. You know how it is—the time in the Destiny Council realm moves differently.”
“Thank you, Luc,” Cole replied softly. “I know he’s coming home. In a day or a year, but my brother will return. He always does.”
He bowed to the Master Warden and walked out the door.
Chapter 35
~ Damian Blake ~
Damian manifested next to the entrance into Paradise Manor and pushed the door, but it was locked. Lowering on the cold steps, he cursed his bad luck under his breath. He didn’t have the key and his phone was gone, too. As his eyes traveled across the front yard, an old memory sprung up to life in his mind—River always kept a spare key hidden among the desert landscape of her front yard.
He scrambled to his feet with a pained groan and headed toward the only saguaro cactus that stood tall on her land. Counting three pebbles away from the cactus, he pulled out a small stone with a plastic container attached to it. A silvery key was locked inside the container. With a winning grin on his face, he pulled the key out, covered the container and shoved it back into the ground next to the cactus.
Barely moving his feet, Damian made it back and unlocked the door. As the cool air enveloped him, he swayed and closed his eyes, enjoying the silence and peacefulness of the empty house. He halted in front of the antique silver mirror in the foyer and gave himself a quick once-over, shuddering at the look of his reflection.
“Dammit,” he muttered, brushing dust and dirt off his hair, face and shoulders. As his eyes halted on the black veil wrapped around his hips, he threw his hands up. “I look like a friggin’ Roman gladiator after a full day in the arena.”
Then he turned his back to the mirror, twisting his body slightly to explore the extent of the damage. The Zerkalitsa readjusted the angle of the surface so he could see better, and he gasped.
“Oh, fuck… Scratch that,” he muttered, exploring partially healed welts, cuts and tears on his blood-covered back. “I don’t look like a gladiator… I look like a runaway Roman slave. And this hair…” He tugged at the long strands falling down his shoulders. “Perun almighty. I’m glad River is not home to see me like this.”
“Personally, I think you look like a victim of the Spanish Inquisition,” a high-pitched voice offered, sounding in his mind, and Damian snapped around to see Gypsy strolling into the foyer, accompanied by Zhulik in his puppy form. “As far as your hair… wait… let me stop laughing…” She pressed her paw to her mouth as if she was giggling. “Whatchamacallit the Barbarian, Russian style. Finally, your inside matches your outside.”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” murmured Damian, heading toward the kitchen.
“That’s the best you can do, Commander. Are you losing your wit?” asked Zhulik, trotting by his side. “Oh, wait. I know it’s the Destiny cuffs, right? Power deprivation affects your brain.”
“I’m surrounded by furry comedians,” grumbled Damian, walking into the kitchen. “Is River still at work?”
“No, she went out with Zabava a while ago,” replied Gypsy, jumping on top of the counter and settling there by the coffeemaker. “Zabava has been hanging around a lot since you’ve been gone. Last night, she even stayed here overnight, which is good. Zabava plus kitchen equals good food.” She licked her paw, narrowing her eyes at Damian.
Thanking all the gods he knew for Zabava sticking around to keep an eye on River, he dropped onto a chair and pulled closer a round table mirror River always kept here. Channeling his magic, he noticed how truly drained he still was. Even the simple act of summoning one of his daggers came with serious effort. Pursing his lips, he grabbed a handful of his hair and placed the dagger above his fist, ready to slice.
“Sir, put down your weapon and step away from the mirror! Hands behind your head!” River’s voice, choking on laughter, sounded in front of him, and he dropped his dagger, raising his hands as he looked up over the mirror.
River and Zabava stood in the doorway, their eyes sparkling with laughter. He got up sharply, forgetting to hold on to his improvised loincloth, and it would’ve slipped off if he hadn’t caught it in the last moment.
“My eyes, my eyes!” squealed Gypsy, arching her back, her tail thicker than her body.
“Well, Commander,” said Zabava, tears of laughter glistening in her eyes, “I must say, resurrection becomes you. You look at least nine hundred years younger, and your attire…” She exhaled, waving her hand. “Anyway, now that you’re home, I’ll leave you two kids alone.”
Before either River or Damian could stop her, she snapped her fingers and vanished. River approached him and touched his da
gger, tracing the design on its hilt with her finger. Then she reached up and took a strand of his hair, moving her fingers through it.
“Despite the layer of dirt, you have gorgeous hair,” she said calmly. “I’m not going to bother asking how it grew to this length so quickly, though.” With soft laughter, she opened one of the drawers and shuffled there for a while until she found a set of scissors. “Are you sure you want to cut it?”
“Yes. I want it just the way it was. But it can wait,” he objected, realizing belatedly what she would see if she looked at his back. “Let’s wait until tomorrow.”
She grabbed the scissors and walked around him, disregarding his protests. As she halted there, a gasp escaped her lips, and Damian dropped onto the chair, hiding his face in his palms.
“What the hell is that?” she whispered hoarsely, and then added, nearly screaming. “Damian, what the fuck is that? Who did this to you?”
He turned to face her, the shocked expression on her face sending waves of shivers down his back.
“River, it’s okay. I wish you didn’t have to see that, but my magic is drained, and I can’t heal myself,” he said, looking up at her. “I just need a few hours, and all this mess is going to be over.”
She bit her lip, shaking her head. “Your world is barbaric and cruel,” she whispered, gently caressing his cheek. “I’m not sure I want any part of it.”
“The World of Magic brings nothing but pain and suffering,” Damian echoed her, his thoughts far away. He rose to his feet slowly and touched his dagger, making it vanish. “Let’s leave the haircut for tomorrow. I need to take a shower and get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”
