Shades of Midnight_an Urban Fantasy novel

by Debbie Cassidy

  I threw up my hands. “Forget it. Let’s just ask some questions and find a fucking way underground.” I continued down the dunes toward The Deep.

  “We could try hunting The Breed,” Ryker suggested. “If we catch one, we can make them show us a way underground.”

  “No point. They’ve already gone to ground, either with the shades, or hiding from them. No. We find out how to get into the tunnels and then we call in for backup.”

  Protectorate units were on standby, with Cassie in charge of deployment, and so were the Black Wings. This involved getting Abbadon back—one of their own. Once we had a way into the tunnels, they could aid in the extraction, but if there were any humans down there in need of saving, it would be on us. If only we hadn’t blown out the elevator at the Order. The damn thing had led straight down into the Order lair, which connected to the network of underground tunnels. At the time, we’d been running for our lives, and disabling the elevator had been the only way to stop our pursuers. No point whining over what was done. There had to be another entrance.

  The neon-green glow swept across me as I climbed the steps up to the building. No patrons hanging out outside. No music. What the heck? If not for the lights, I’d have thought Jonah had closed up. The guys followed me into the building, into a bar filled with people sipping drinks and talking in hushed tones. The door swung shut behind us, and all conversation stopped as everyone turned to look at us. Nephs, the place was filled with nephs, but something was off.

  “What can I do for you guys?” Jonah said from behind the bar. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  My scalp prickled, my gut clenched, and I instinctually slipped into aether-sight. My soft gasp had the guys flanking me, but it was too late, the patrons were on their feet, moving so fast it was hard to keep track. We were penned in, cut off from the exit. Prisoners.

  Jonah placed his palms flat on the bar and leaned forward. “We knew you’d wander down here eventually. Asher will be pleased,” the shade inside him said. It was large, like the one that had been inside Drayton.

  “What are you? One of his generals?”

  He grinned, showcasing a maw of inky black teeth. “No. But I see a promotion in my future. Your future, however, is beginning to look bleak.”

  I cocked my head. “I think you’re forgetting who the hunter is here.” I held up my hands and wriggled my fingers. “By all means, let’s tangle.”

  Instead of slipping, his smile widened. “Oh, we haven’t forgotten. We’re willing to sacrifice a few to get what we want.”

  “And what is that?”

  Clinks and clanks and the scrape of metal on leather filled the room as the nephs withdrew blades of all shapes and sizes.

  “Your hands. We want your hands.”

  Like hell they were getting any part of me, and the guys were thinking the same, because axes and swords came out to play and the games began. Forty—no, fifty—against four. Odds sucked. But there was no diving out of the deep end, it was sink or swim, and my blades echoed the sentiment as they sliced and cut and gutted. The wounded fell back, but it wouldn’t be long before they attacked again. These weren’t grunts like the one Rivers had interrogated. These healed fast.

  A blade scraped my wrist, drawing blood. The fucker was going for the end game. Like heck I’d let him have my mitts. A shoulder charge had him pinned to the nearest table at an odd angle, enough time to get my hand on his face and do a search. Empty. The neph soul was gone, so it was a burn-the-shit-out-of-the-shade scenario. His scream was a bloody symphony, and the power surged and swelled, wanting out, wanting more. These weren’t the same level as Xavier. I’d be able to expel them if the neph was still inside. Bane had said not to take the risk, every minute counted, but these were nephs I’d failed. I could have found them and severed their shadows, but I’d focused on the team, the Lupin, and the Protectorate. I’d left the rest to fend for themselves. This was my fault, and if I could save their lives, then I’d do it.

  To the left, my daimon warned. But I was already swinging, driving my blade into an eye. I fumbled, grabbing his wrist and searching for a soul. Empty. The seconds spent delving cost me. He kicked out, catching my knee, sending a sharp pain up my leg and forcing me to buckle. I recovered in time to slam my fist into his gut with a blast of power that sent the shade packing into oblivion.

  “Cut them up, cut them down!” Ryker was shouting.

  He had the idea. Wound them badly enough and I’d have enough time to root and exterminate. Damn, it felt good, too good. This was me, this was my purpose, and it filled me with a euphoric joy. Movement at the bar. Jonah was retreating.

  Like hell.

  Using a fallen shade as a spring, I vaulted onto a table and used the other tables as stepping stones until I hit the bar, sprang off it, and landed on a retreating Jonah’s back. He didn’t go down. The fucker was strong. Instead, he swiped at me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me over his head. My back slammed onto the ground, and the air vacated my lungs in a rush. The world faded to black.

  No. My daimon channeled her power into my limbs, forcing me to roll, to evade the wicked curve of the scimitar aimed for my throat. It hit the linoleum with a dull thunk in the exact spot where I’d just lain. I was up in time for him to charge me, but he never made contact. Orin snagged him around the throat and pulled him back.

  “Now, Serenity. Do it now,” Orin urged.

  I slapped my hand to Jonah’s chest and looked into his eyes, but not to kill, to search. Was Jonah inside? The others seemed to be gone, but he was strong. Was he trapped like Drayton was? This shade wasn’t a general, not yet. He was a nobody like the rest of them, which meant I could expel him, if need be. And there it was, the flicker of light that indicated Jonah’s soul was still present.

  His eyes widened. “No. Please, kill me. Just kill me.”

  “Sorry, no can do.” Switching to aether-sight, I grabbed his shade essence and yanked him out of Jonah’s body.

  His roar of rage echoed in my ear, and Jonah sagged in Orin’s arms. Around me, the clash of battle had calmed. I surveyed the fallen, unconscious, badly wounded shades whose host bodies were in need of time to heal. Ryker and Rivers stood in the center of the carnage, blood-spattered, chests heaving, biceps bulging. Rivers locked gazes with me, his pale eyes stark against his crimson-smeared face, and grinned. A shiver rushed up my spine, because, in that moment, it wasn’t Rivers staring at me, it was the Mind Reaper. But then he blinked, and Rivers was back. He inclined his head in a we-did-it gesture.

  But it was far from over. I had my work cut out for me. Expel or burn.

  “Stay with Jonah. See what he remembers. I need to deal with the rest of the shades.”

  Orin nodded and helped Jonah to the nearest upright chair.

  I rolled up my sleeves. It was time to earn my keep.

  Chapter 16

  Twenty minutes later, the room was filled with recovering nephs and several dead bodies. A low-grade headache was tickling my temples from spending so much time in aether-sight, but it was worth it to have saved so many lives. The daggers did their work, and shadows were sliced and all was good with the world. Yeah, if only it were that easy.

  Jonah sat nursing a bottle of whiskey. He was pale, and his hand trembled every time he raised the bottle to his lips.

  “They took her. They took my wife, and others … There were others here, they took them too. Humans and neph. The rest is strange and blurry.”

  Orin patted the huge guy on the shoulder. “Do you know where they took them?”

  Jonah frowned and looked up. “They took them down … down into the basement.” He was on his feet in a flash. “The basement! She could still be there.”

  He made a beeline for the door around the side of the bar, his boots thumping against the ground. After a stunned second, we followed.

  We found him standing in the center of a neatly arranged space. Barrels were piled on one side, boxes of nonperishable bar snacks o
n the other.

  “Not here … She’s not … Where could they have gone?!” He turned in a circle. “They came down here.”

  Orin strode into the room and began to search it, running his hands across the brick walls and peering behind the barrels. If they’d come down here, there had to be an exit somewhere.

  “Over here!” Ryker called from the back of the room. A huge unit with tools and crap was pushed against the wall, and beyond that was the unmistakable outline of a door.

  “Jonah, where does that door lead?”

  He blinked at the door. “I … I’ve never seen it before. Where did it come from?”

  Bingo. “Orin, Ryker, can you move the unit please.”

  The guys did their thing with the muscles and the straining, and on any other day, it would have been a popcorn moment, but too much was riding on this being our answer, and my nerves were stretched too thin.

  The unit came away with a scrape and a whine.

  Orin tried the door. “It won’t budge. It’s locked.”

  “Let me.” I flicked my daggers into existence and sliced out the door handle.

  Ryker hooked his hand into the gap and pulled. This time, it came away easy, letting in a draft of musty air and showcasing nothing but darkness beyond.

  “My wife, she’s in there. Isn’t she?” Jonah said.

  I placed a hand on his forearm. “We’re going to find out soon, Jonah. We just need to call for backup and then we can—”

  But he was already gone, pushing past Ryker and through the door before I could stop him. The darkness swallowed him as if it were a living entity, and a scream locked in my throat.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Ryker said. “Jonah! Hey, mate, can you hear me?”

  This was it. This was the entrance Drayton had been talking about. Some kind of arcane magic had created it, and Jonah was gone, transported to wherever this thing sent its minions.

  “Rivers, make the call. We need to get in there now.”

  Rivers wandered off to the other side of the basement, phone pressed to his ear. His Protectorate gear-encased body melded into the pockets of shadows cast by the barrels.

  Boot falls echoed down the stairs and several neph entered the basement.

  “Hey, guys. Please, go back upstairs.”

  “Like hell,” one of them said. “These fuckers took over our bodies and paraded us around like puppets. I could feel it eating away at me, and there’s still so much missing.” He rubbed his temples. “You took our shadows so they can’t get in again, right?”

  “Yeah, you’re safe from infection now.”

  “Good, because we’re coming with you, and we’re gonna kick some shade arse.”

  Oh, shit. “I appreciate that, but this could be a trap. We need to do it by the book with MPD personnel.”

  Doubt flitted across his face but it was gone pretty quick, replaced by determination. “Fine, but we’re not going anywhere. We’re staying put, and if any more of those fuckers come sniffing around The Deep, then we’re taking them out.”

  Should I point out there was no way for them to identify an infected, not for sure? Should I point out that even if they did, they had no way to kill one? No. They needed something to do, some action they could take to make up for what had been done to them. Maybe to make up for what they’d done while infected? And now that I looked into their eyes properly, taking the time to really see them, the pain, the sorrow, the guilt—it was all there, swirling around like a bottomless whirlpool.

  “That’s all very well but—”

  “It would be great.” I cut Ryker off, and shot him a small smile to soften my interruption. “This place means something. The Deep has always been a sanctuary, and the shades tainted that. So yeah, you guys need to watch over it. Make sure it stays a safe zone while Jonah isn’t here to do it for you.”

  They nodded, puffing up their chests and grunting in satisfaction.

  “The Protectorate will be here any moment. If you could show them down …”

  They retreated with purposeful steps. Crisis averted.

  “Good call,” Orin said. “They need something else to focus on. They need to feel like they’re making a difference.”

  I had no idea what it felt like to have a shade inside me, taking over my mind and body, taking over what I was, but it was an invasion of the sanctity of an individual’s mind. It would be a while until they felt cleansed.

  Rivers joined us. “Cassie and her unit are already on route. They didn’t hear from us and got worried. So, they headed out. She thought we’d end up here. She’s bringing some Order members with her, as well as Oleander and Ambrosius. They’ve figured out a tracking spell, which will be extremely useful considering we have no idea where we’ll end up when we go through.”

  I nodded. Tracking was good. “We’ll send a small unit in, and then the units left behind can track exactly where this thing takes us.”

  “What about getting back out?” Ryker posed the question on all our minds.

  “We’ll figure out an extraction plan when we know how the tracker works.”

  It was a long shot, and we all knew that despite what measures we took, once we stepped through that door, we’d be on our own. At the mercy of the shades. If it was a trap. If I’d been wrong about Xavier being under Drayton’s control. Then we were all fucked. He must have known about The Deep, and yet he didn’t warn us. Had this been the trap? Had he hoped we’d never make it past the bar? It didn’t matter, we had a way into Asher’s sanctuary, and if there was even a slim chance that Abbadon was down there, that Drayton was down there, then we had to take it.

  A commotion at the top of the stairs pulled me out of my reverie, and then Cassie’s voice drifted down to us.

  The backup was here, and we were about to find out what lay beyond the darkness.

  ***

  My arm still stung from the symbol Rivers had etched into it. It was a tracking rune that the Order had found and infused with power using their connection to arcane magic, but Rivers had given it an extra boost with his rune mojo. Let’s hope it worked once we stepped through the doorway. Orin, Ryker, and Rivers were going in with me. Lucifer and four Black Wings I knew by sight alone would be coming too, their focus on getting Abbadon out once we found him. The rest was up to my team.

  Oleander spread the parchment with the symbol inked onto it onto the floor. Our blood had been smeared on it, and below it was a map of Midnight.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” Cassie asked for the hundredth time.

  It was Ambrosius who answered, his voice coming from the doorway. “I’m certain. The rune is powerful and charged with their blood. The map has been marked with the rune, and spelled. Once you enter the doorway, your location will appear on the map. We have the MED on standby with diggers just in case we can’t find a way down to you.”

  It was the best plan we were going to get. “Hopefully we’ll be able to come back this way.”

  Lucifer and his Black Wings stepped up to the door. “Are you ready?”

  I touched his arm to get his attention. “How about my team leads the way? After all, we have more of an idea of where we left Arachne.”

  Lucifer opened his mouth to argue but then snapped it closed. Instead, he inclined his head and moved away from the door. “After you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped into darkness.

  Chapter 17

  It was like stepping into treacle. The darkness clawed at me, pushing at my eyelids and trying to slip up my nose and down my throat. Gagging and coughing, I fell to the dusty ground. Out. I was out.

  The guys hit the earth beside me.

  “Shit, that was gross.” Orin swiped at his chest and arms as if trying to brush off the darkness.

  A shudder ran over my body. “We’re good. We made it.” But where were we? Ryker offered me a hand, pulling me up, and we surveyed our surroundings, lit by wall sconces. Someone had gone to the trouble of illuminating this are
a, which meant it was significant. A wide tunnel with three possible exits. This was familiar. We’d been here before, but then we’d traversed most of this area. Still, three exits rang a distinct alarm bell.

  “We should split up,” Lucifer said from behind me.

  “Yeah, great idea,” Ryker drawled. “Let’s split up in the tunnels and get picked off one by one.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm.

  It was the first time Ryker and Lucifer had actually spoken directly to each other, and Ryker, cool, levelheaded Ryker, was positively simmering. A new kind of alarm went off in my head now. Had Ryker been avoiding Lucifer too? He’d said he had no problem with the guy, but the expression on his face now, and that disgusted tone, said different. His reaction to Lucifer’s suggestion was totally over the top, because it wasn’t really about the suggestion, it was about the person who’d made it.

  “Why so hostile?” Lucifer asked. “If you have an issue with me, then I’d prefer it if you’d spit it out.”

  No, no. Why would he say that? I took a step forward, intent on insinuating myself between the guys, but Rivers pulled me back, his grip firm. It gave Ryker the break he needed to get in Lucifer’s face. Big and blond up against tall, dark, and winged.

  Ryker lifted his chin, because yeah, Lucifer was that teensy bit taller. “Yes. I have an issue with you. You were supposed to be useful. The whole fucking reason for bringing you back was so you’d get the White Wings on board, but you failed.”

  The Black Wings who’d come with Lucifer moved forward to flank him.

  But Ryker didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he didn’t give a shit. “You can’t do anything to help the humans. In fact, you can’t do anything at all. All you do is give speeches to your Black Wings and hang around the mansion looking broody. There is no point to your existence. It’s Bane that we need. Bane who was out there every night putting his life on the line. That’s who we need. And if you can’t be that guy, then you’re no good to us.”

  Lucifer’s eyes blazed, the violet irises standing out in the gloom of the tunnel. His jaw tensed and his lips thinned, and for a moment he looked so much like Bane that my heart began to race, but then he pulled it back. His expression smoothed out into the cultured mask that was typical Lucifer, and the light in his eyes dimmed, leaving the bitter taste of disappointment on my tongue.