Those Wonderful Toys: Preternatural Chronicles Book 7 (The Preternatural Chronicles)

by Hunter Blain

  Something caught Magni’s attention, and he lowered his hand as he peered at a small pile of something just outside the castle walls.

  Without knowing why, a feeling inside of his gut urged the young man to move quickly toward the door.

  He recognized the pile stained in crimson, though he couldn’t place from where. Then an arm became evident as he drew nearer, followed by a set of legs that belonged to...

  His heart quickened as his breaths became labored with surging adrenaline that could be mistaken as panic. With each exhale, the building wheeze grew into an incoherent scream of absolute agony.

  “GHLE!” Magni shouted as shuffling feet became transfixed on their one job and began pounding the ground in a sprint, carrying the young man closer to his fate.

  “Ghle! Oh God, no!” Magni cried out as he tripped over his own boots and toppled to the ground where he immediately began shuffling on hands and knees the last few feet to where she lay.

  “Help!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he moved beside her head and lifted a pale face inside of his embrace. “Please...help...” Magni tried to scream again, but sorrow stole his tongue and only air hissed out as exhausted tear ducts were given a surge of power and were forced to expel even more tears of unimaginable loss.

  Dried blood caked her clothes, stemming from where an enormous gash spanned across her tattered throat.

  Instinctively sensing this wasn’t an accident, Magni stopped crying all at once as his mind broke and he poured himself into what he knew: hunting.

  The attack hadn’t been done with a knife, judging by the skin that resembled puzzle pieces where it had been separated. It had been done with a claw.

  “Have you seen Ghle? I have something I need to show her,” Ruak had said, and Magni had pointed him right to her.

  “Ruak,” Magni hissed as anger violated his soul, darkening it like meat over a zealous flame.

  Rage built in the young man, creating a temple of hate whose foundation had been constructed with the death of his mom. Though it had been dormant for many years after forgiving the vampire, losing Ludvig had renovated the temple and constructed walls that were now used to support the last straw of Magni’s wrath...a ceiling made from the memory of Ghle.

  He wasn’t aware of it, but the clouds overhead darkened as a cold wind began to glide across the tall grass. Healthy leaves were yanked from the safety of their branches and sent tumbling through the air in cyclones of raw power that had nowhere to go.

  “RUAK!” Magni screamed through a clenched jaw, allowing the burning hate inside of him to corrupt without protest.

  Lightning cracked the sky, but something was off about it. Instead of the beautiful blue of mundane electricity, it was a glowing black outlined in stark contrast with bright white.

  The wind began to howl as it savagely tore at all the life of the forest, breaking thick branches and yanking up colorful flowers in uncaring clumps. The door that led to the courtyard was blown open before old, metal hinges lost the battle of strength and sent the crumbling pieces into the sky.

  A few armored dwarves came running toward the open doorway, freezing as they saw Magni swallowed in a violent aura of black flames outlined in white.

  Then they looked down and saw Ghleann, King TalGoid’s only remaining relative after The Day of Night.

  Stunned dwarves came to in an instant, pulling their weapons. One had a two-handed axe that looked like it belonged in a video game, while the other wielded golden swords that could have once belonged to an Egyptian deity.

  From up on high, several elves were pulling bowstrings nocked with enchanted arrows.

  “Halt!” King Taylor called out as he ran past the approaching guards. The elves did not fire their arrows, but neither did they lower their bows.

  As Taylor came within a few paces from where the unholy amalgamation of rage and sorrow known as Magni kneeled, the powerful elf was met with a wall of unseen energy. It had created a shield around the young man and his pale-skinned lover with the scarlet necklace.

  “Ghleann,” Taylor wheezed as he took in what had caused Magni to pulsate with corrupt power.

  Another bolt of glowing black lightning outlined in white cracked the sky, nearly deafening any citizen of Faerie within several miles.

  “Magni!” Taylor tried to cry out through the raging winds.

  The young man who had endured so much ignored him.

  Closing his eyes, King Taylor—arguably the strongest living Fae besides Queen Lilith—concentrated on a spell to push through the impenetrable shield of power.

  Focusing his will like a surgeon lifting his scalpel, Taylor pushed glowing hands through the unseen energy, opening a hole big enough to squeeze himself through.

  Once inside, Taylor kneeled down next to his niece whose face was peaceful and serene. There was only a small dot of crimson on her pale cheek. What was below her neck, however, would keep Taylor up at night for the rest of his life.

  “Magni,” Taylor said softly, no longer having to fight the wind that didn’t reach within the shield. “Magni,” he repeated, resting a hand on his shoulder. Though he wanted to weep, Taylor understood that the young man before him needed the king to be strong and help him find his way back.

  The young man opened his eyes, which were pure black with white irises, and drunkenly looked at Taylor.

  “It’s okay. I’m here,” Taylor soothed, squeezing Magni’s shoulder once.

  “Tay...Taylor?” Magni asked, blinking rapidly a few times. His normal, red-tinged eyes reappeared.

  “What happened?” Taylor asked gently, letting his hand slide off the man’s shoulder.

  “Ruak,” Magni hissed, veins beginning to bulge in his temples and forehead. His face was blooming a bright red, and Taylor couldn’t be sure if it was from holding back his sorrow or allowing his anger to rise.

  “Ruak? You’re sure?” Taylor asked in surprise, looking down to inspect his niece’s wounds for the first time. Looking at the tattered flesh, Taylor’s heart sank as he understood that Magni might be right.

  “He asked me where she was, and then ran off after her,” Magni said coldly, trying to hold back the flow of tears.

  “Where is he now?” Taylor asked, fearing what the answer might be.

  “I don’t know,” Magni replied coldly, all of a sudden no longer trying not to cry. It was as if the bottom had fallen out of his anguish and left all at once, leaving behind only rage. He blinked, and the black eyes with the white irises came back as he hissed, “But I’m going to find him. And I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  Taylor wanted to say that he shouldn’t give in and do what he threatened, but he couldn’t. His niece had been violently murdered...the last of his blood...and he, too, wanted vengeance.

  Magni looked at Taylor, tilting his head as if awaiting his protest. But none came, and the last nail was hammered into the coffin.

  A crack of black lightning shot down to latch onto Magni, forcing Taylor to fall backward and shield his eyes.

  When he opened them, Magni was gone, leaving behind the dying winds that let loose their prizes. Flowers, grass, and leaves drifted to the ground while heavy branches plummeted straight down to crash into the fields and forest. Some landed inside the castle walls, but Taylor paid them no mind.

  He positioned himself to scoop Ghleann up, and began walking toward the castle. Shame crept up inside Taylor at not doing the right thing and talking Magni down. Ruak deserved a chance to explain himself, and instead, would meet a no doubt agonizing death at the hands of the devastated wizard. But he was no longer a wizard. Taylor knew that he had just become something much, much worse. Something dark.

  Magni had embraced his hate and corrupted his soul. Magni had become a sorcerer. And Taylor had let him.

  28

  John - Germany

  “We leave at 0500,” Depweg told the group as he and I stepped outside.

  “Where are you two going?” Hayley asked from the doo
rway, suspicious of us leaving her behind. She held her sleeping bag across her like a toga.

  “I’m going to gather supplies. You need meat, beans, leafy veggies, and fruits to help get your blood levels back to normal. Plus vitamins and liquids,” Depweg said to Hayley, who had moved to the doorway.

  “And I’m going to go talk to Papa T and give him an update. After that, I’ll head to the mansion and grab some pewpews and see if Locke wants to join in on the fun.”

  “I’ll text you a list of weapons to grab,” Depweg said to me before turning back to the hut. “Hey, in there. Do you two know how to shoot or are you planning on going in full were?”

  Hayley stepped out of the doorway, letting Ben and Meli come forward. Ben spoke first.

  “I only use my claws.”

  Depweg nodded before turning to the small female.

  “I...like bows.”

  One of Depweg’s eyebrows went up at that before he turned to me and said, “I, ah, think we have a compound bow or two.”

  “Got it,” I said, bringing up my Maps app, selecting the church, and was just about to push the button when Depweg grabbed my wrist.

  “John...I...” he began, trying to find the right words as he stared at me with a pained expression.

  Sensing the change in conversation, the were-siblings returned to the hut, leaving me alone with my best friend.

  “What’s up, dude?” I asked, not liking what I saw in Depweg’s face.

  “I, ah...I don’t know how to say this...” he said, letting go of my wrist and crossing his arms while letting his gaze drop to the ground.

  “What is it?” I asked softly. “Is it the fact you are trying to copy my beard look?” I pantomimed stroking my beard as I stared at the neatly trimmed facial hair of my buddy.

  “No-nothing. Just, ah...just tell Father Thomes I said hi, would ya?” he asked, dropping his arms and lifting his face back up to me.

  I decided to let it go and play along. If whatever he had to say was important, he would tell me. It wasn’t like the military-minded were not to communicate effectively.

  “Alright, buddy,” I said, giving him a half smile before pushing the button on my watch.

  29

  John - Houston

  Appearing outside the church on the spot we had designated as my landing zone, I hit the recharge button and began strolling to the front door. The air felt considerably more humid in Houston. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised, as I looked down at my phone and saw it was around 3:00 p.m. Lilith, these time changes were throwing me way off.

  The grass all around the yard was healthy and green, and solar panels had been installed evenly, allowing nearly every inch of the premises to be well lit. The place still smelled new, even after two years, and I didn’t like it for some reason.

  As I neared the landing, I kept my eyes forward while raising my middle finger toward the sky. They knew what they had done.

  “Stupid gargoyles,” I muttered as I stepped over John On! written—tastefully, I might add—in the concrete.

  Without pausing, I pushed through the open door and toward Father Thomes’ chambers, as he would no doubt be asleep at this hou—

  “Father almighty!” my friend called out from beside me. A porcelain mug dropped to the floor where it shattered, spilling hot tea in a widening pool.

  “Oops! My bad, Papa T! I thought you’d be asleep for sure at this hour.”

  “It’s the afternoon, is it not? No, I’m afraid my pre-John sleep schedule has returned these last few years.”

  “Right,” I acknowledged. “Plus I can, like, exist during the daytime and stuff now.”

  “Exactly.”

  Once again, I was reminded of what my friends had sacrificed for so long when my life had been constrained to the blanket of night.

  The shuffling of feet brought me back, and I looked up to see Thomes stepping into the kitchen, presumably to make another cup of tea that smelled of mint and turmeric.

  “Clean that up, won’t you?”

  “Huh?” I asked, looking around until I saw the broken pieces of wet porcelain. “Oh, right.”

  Willing a broom and dustpan, I scooped up all the shards and started walking to the kitchen when an idea came to me.

  “I, ah, forgot something in the car,” I said to Father Thomes, who ignored my statement.

  Walking outside, I grabbed the pieces in one hand while letting my broom and dustpan manifestation vanish, and hefted the pieces a few times as I looked up.

  With a sly smile, I grabbed the largest shard and threw it sidearm at the angel gargoyle.

  It missed and went sailing off into the sky.

  “Ope, shit! Hope that doesn’t hit anyone,” I muttered to myself as I selected another piece. This one flew with precision and smacked into the shoulder of the statue. “Bull’s-eye!”

  After a few tosses, all of the pieces of broken mug had been turned into sand thanks to the help of my two gray friends. And they took the abuse so well!

  Walking back inside, I closed the door behind me and joined Father Thomes, who was waiting for his teapot to boil.

  “You still use one of those? Don’t they have, like, instant tea and coffee stuff now?”

  “Said the man who doesn’t know how to use a microwave,” Father Thomes snickered.

  My face morphed into one of embarrassed annoyance as I asked with a mouth hung open, “Heard about that, did ya?”

  “Oh, I did,” Father Thomes confirmed, giving me an amused smile. Then it melted away as he asked, “May I ask why you are here? Lately, you only visit with updates or guidance in relation to your mission.”

  “I know I haven’t been around all that much these last two years, and I’m sorry ’bout that.”

  “No worries at all, my son. I have enjoyed reuniting with the sun and sleeping at night.”

  Once more, I was reminded how my friends had adjusted their time schedules around me. It warmed my heart while simultaneously making me feel guilty for not properly acknowledging the sacrifice they had made for me.

  “But yeah, I’m here to tell you we are moving on the last warlock base in the morning. Only problem is, they have this new...” I let the words linger as my hands moved in a circle over one another as I tried to figure out the best way to describe the creature we had faced, “godlike...were-vamp...thing.”

  The teapot began to whistle as if on cue, filling the empty air as both my friend and I pondered my words.

  After a few moments, he moved to remove the pot, and poured some water into another white mug with a tea bag string sticking out and around the lip.

  “I am having trouble comprehending what you are trying to convey, John,” Father Thomes said, returning the pot to a cold part of the stove before picking up his cup and cradling it between his arthritic hands.

  “Ya see, me, Hayley, and Lud...vig...” my words faltered and then died off. Gravity snatched my head, centering around both corners of my lips, and yanked my face toward the ground.

  “Oh dear. Ludvig is no longer with us, I take it?” the priest asked professionally, but with a slight ache behind it.

  “Satan stabbed him in the back, like a damn coward,” I hissed through clenched teeth, my fists popping with the desire to break the faces of my enemies. “All because he wanted to protect Hayley...and their baby.”

  Father Thomes choked and spit out the small mouthful of water he had tried to swallow. He coughed almost uncontrollably for several seconds, prompting me to walk over and gently pat him on the back. Catching his breath, he motioned with his hand that he was okay, and closed his eyes while breathing steadily.

  “Pregnant, you say? What will she do?”

  “You mean...like abortion or something?” I asked, alarm in my voice. I didn’t think this was an area a priest would wade into.

  “No, not that. Of course she must keep the baby. But you need to convince her to retreat back to the mansion and stay out of harm’s way,” Father Thomes urged, giving
me a fatherly glare that showed he meant business.

  “Yeah...thing about that is...” I started, walking to the counter and leaning against it while crossing my arms. “I just don’t think Hayley is gonna to do that. Know what I mean? She kinda wants revenge for Samael and Ulric killing her husband and the father of her unborn child.”

  Father Thomes let his gaze fall to the floor, barely nodding a few times as he considered my words.

  “Is there no way to convince her?” he asked, but there was no conviction in his voice.

  “I really don’t think so,” I said just above a whisper, feeling the importance of what Father Thomes was saying. I knew he was right, but I also knew it wasn’t my decision. “I think the best thing I can do is to help her wipe out that last base and fulfill her mission. Maybe then she will return to the safety of the In-Between and the Council, or stay at the mansion.

  “From what you have told me about her over these last few years, I feel you are probably correct. So let us discuss ways to deal with these...what did you call them?”

  “Were-vamps. And I think there’s only one.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing, at least.”

  “Yeah. Can you imagine like a squad of these things? I mean, one alone almost took out the three of us.”

  “How did you manage to get away?” Father Thomes asked, staring at me from over the rim of his cup as he drank his mint-smelling tea.

  “Sunlight came and fucked his shit right up. It was great, heh.”

  “And you said you are attacking in the morning?” he asked, looking up at the small green digital clock on the oven.

  Looking at the microwave, I noticed it had blue numbers instead.

  Shifting my gaze back and forth, I straightened from the countertop and pointed a finger between the two.