Shadow Warrior: The Nightwatch Academy book 3

by Cassidy, Debbie

  They’d cuffed him. Like the Nightwatch council had cuffed me. But my cuffs were off, and all it had taken was a key. A key that was in Brunner’s office. What if that key could work for Larkin?

  My stomach quivered. “If I can get that cuff off, will you help me get Payne back?”

  Larkin froze for a fraction of a second, and then his chest began rising and falling with excitement. “Honey, if you can get these cuffs off, I will do whatever the fuck you want.”

  I turned to Kash. “Brunner has a cuff key in her office. My cuff key. Do you think weaver magic can modify it to work on Larkin’s cuff?”

  Kash frowned in thought. “Cuff keys are created by the head weaver at headquarters. The keys respond to weaver magic, so it stands to reason I could manipulate it.”

  Larkin looked from Kash to me. “You really think you can do this?” He touched the cuff at his bicep. “You can take this off?”

  I had no skill. Our only hope was the dark-haired weaver sitting beside me. “Kash?”

  He touched the amulet at his chest and smiled, his signature cocky, lopsided smile that for some reason had a gentle heat crawling up my neck to kiss my cheeks.

  “I’ve never had a problem with picking locks if I have the right tools,” he said. “We may not be able to make your cuff key fit, but I can use it as a tool to pick Larkin’s lock.”

  “When was Payne banished?” Larkin asked.

  “Three hours ago,” Kash said.

  “Then we have five hours to get him out. If you’re still in Lunar Creek when the time’s up, you’ll forget not only who Payne is but who you are, too, and I may not be able to get you back out.”

  “I have to try.” I looked to Kash. “But you don’t have to come with us.”

  “I know,” Kash said. His gaze was warm honey caressing me. “I want to. Now, let’s go break into Brunner’s office.”

  Thirteen

  With Kash on hand to pick the locks to both Brunner’s office and her desk drawer, it only took a few minutes to find the key and get it back to Larkin. I was conscious of the clock ticking away.

  Larkin met us eagerly, his body tense with anticipation. Kash retrieved the key from the box and approached the cat man.

  He’d been trapped here forever, and once this cuff was off, he’d be free … “Wait.” I grabbed Kash’s hand to stall him.

  Larkin’s eyes narrowed and fixed on me. “Change of heart?”

  “No. But I need your word.” I met his gaze steadily. “I’m going to need your word that you won’t abandon us to go home. That you’ll see this task through, and bring Payne home.”

  He winced. “I can’t make that promise.”

  Kash pocketed the key.

  Larkin sighed. “I can take you there, I can help you locate Payne, but I can’t guarantee he’ll come back with you. Payne no longer remembers you or his life here. He has a new life and new memories. The only way to bring him home is for him to come willingly, and we need to stick to the time limit. Whether you manage to convince him or not, when I say it’s time to leave, we leave. That’s all I can promise.”

  Shit. Fuck, that just made things harder. “I was hoping to just kidnap him.”

  “Yes.” Larkin arched a brow. “Well, you can’t. I’ll get you there and back. Payne, too, if you can convince him to come willingly.”

  “And his memories?”

  “They’ll return once he’s back in his home realm,” Larkin said.

  “What about everyone else? Will they remember him?”

  “No. Only the weaver council and those of us with Payne when the time is up will remember who he is.”

  “So … he’ll be free? I mean, the weaver council can’t look for someone who effectively no longer exists, right?”

  “I doubt that will stop them,” Larkin said. “Payne will be a loose thread they’ll want to cut. We can’t be spotted in Lunar Creek by the weavers. If we interfere in any major plotlines, then the council will be alerted, and then, even if we get Payne out, they’ll come for him. So, do we have a deal?”

  It was our only option. I nodded. “Kash, do it.”

  Kash retrieved the key, and Larkin rolled up his sleeve. The air began to hum as Kash closed his eyes and pressed the key to Larkin’s cuff. Long seconds passed in which Kash’s forehead broke out in perspiration. He clenched his teeth and canted his head, eyes still closed. His amulet began to glow a soft azure, and then there was a click, and the cuff fell to the floor with a soft thunk.

  Larkin stared at his bicep for long, unblinking seconds, and then a huge grin stretched across his face. He held out his arms and flexed his paws. And then he did a twirl, hugging his tail to his chest.

  “You did it,” he cried. “You actually fucking did it.” He sobered quickly. “We need to leave. Now. Come.”

  He hurried out of the lounge, through the foyer, and into the master’s quarters. He was taking us to the secret room, the in-between place.

  He stopped at the door that led to his sanctuary. “Before we go any further, you need to be aware of a few things. Firstly, our presence in Lunar Creek will be an anomaly, so it will cause disruption to the weavers’ live feed. We’ll need to work fast, in and out, before someone on this side realizes what we’re up to.”

  “What happens if they do?” Kash asked.

  “Then they’ll be waiting for us when we get back. They’ll take Payne again. Number two, we need to limit interaction with the residents of the creek. We do not want to leave a plot hole in the show.”

  “You’re worried about the show?” Kash asked incredulously.

  Larkin rolled his eyes. “The show is their life. Having people appear and then disappear would raise questions that could eventually lead to a disruption of the fabric of that reality.”

  “But having people just appear and become part of the show doesn’t?” It made no sense.

  “When someone is banished, they’re magically woven into that world. They’re given a past and a present, and the memories of all residents automatically reboot to include that character.”

  “If it wasn’t so dastardly awful, I’d be impressed,” Kash said.

  Larkin pushed open the door to reveal the stairs that led to his sanctum, and then he was ushering us through. We landed in the in-between room. Kash’s mouth fell open, and he turned on the spot, taking everything in.

  “How?” he asked.

  “No time,” Larkin said in a sing-song voice.

  He sounded way too chipper for someone who was about to dive into an alternate reality to convince a man he wasn’t who he thought he was. He’d also somehow bypassed us and was by the sofa. The purple silk pajamas were gone, replaced by a silver waistcoat, black shirt, black boots with silver buckles, and purple corduroy pants. His tail stuck up straight behind him and twitched at the tip.

  “Someone’s happy,” Kash muttered wryly.

  “As long as he gets us to where we need to be.” I looked up at Kash. “Are you sure you want to come with? I can’t guarantee your safety.”

  Kash looked down on me, his dark brows low over his eyes. “I don’t need you to guarantee my safety, Justice. I’m coming so I can guarantee yours.”

  What could I say to that?

  “Come on.” Larkin waved a hand at the flat-screen TV, and it lit up with static. “It’s time to take a trip.” He waved his hand, his orange eyes brightening, and then the static was rushing toward me and the world shattered.

  * * *

  We landed on the side of a road lit up by silver moonlight, moonlight from a moon that was so big it looked like someone had lassoed it and yanked it closer to the earth.

  “Whoa.” Kash followed my gaze. “This is insane.”

  Well, it explained how this place got its name. A tingle ran over my skin, making me shiver.

  “It’s fine,” Larkin said. “Just your body adjusting. The village is this way.” He set off down the road.

  The night was quiet, with only the sound of nighttime c
reatures. No motors and no artificial light thrown by streetlights. I guess with a moon this huge, they didn’t need anything else at night.

  “Now,” Larkin said. “When we get into the village, we’ll head straight to the town hall and locate the census. It’s on display for anyone to see, and it carries the names of all the town residents. Payne will be in there, name and occupation.”

  “Will he keep his name?”

  “Yes. It’s easier to attach new memories to an existing identity,” he explained. “The residents sent here all retain their true names.”

  The road sloped downward, and then a multitude of lights lit up the night as the village unfolded below us. It was a picturesque place with steeples and pretty, little houses. It was a storybook village, and I totally recognized it from the show. There was always a wide pan shot of the village at the end of the starting credits.

  This was so fucking weird.

  “This is so fucking weird,” Kash said, echoing my thoughts.

  Larkin hop-skipped his way down the road, his boots barely making a sound on the ground, and before we knew it, we were slipping onto the nighttime streets of Lunar Creek.

  The scent of jasmine was strong on the air, the signature flower for the show. As we walked through the silent streets lined with shadows, I couldn’t help but scan for cameras even though I knew that, technically, there were none. The houses here were set back away from the road and bordered by trees. White picket fences peeked out from behind bushes.

  Being here felt like an intrusion.

  We hit the intersection at the bottom of the street, and Larkin took a left.

  “The village square is only a few minutes this way,” he explained.

  Of course, I knew this. I’d watched this show way too many times not to know exactly where we were. The librarian lived in the house to the right, the one with the pink shutters and all the garden gnomes. To the left was Principal Lane’s house. The three-story crumbling mansion had been passed down in his family for generations, but since his wife had passed away last season, he spent most of his time at the Academy.

  The village square was nothing more than a few essential stores, a book shop, a diner, and a bakery, and smack bang in the middle, where all the meetings happened, was the town hall. Built of white stone, it was home to several forbidding-looking gargoyles that jutted out from the guttering. Four deep steps led up to the main entrance, which was flanked by two thick pillars.

  “And how do we get in?” Kash asked.

  Larkin paused at the top of the steps and looked at Kash. “Your connection to the weave will be weak here, but you should have enough power to pick a simple lock.”

  Kash rubbed his hands together and looked down at his amulet. There was a pinprick of light in the center. “Shit, yes. The connection is weak.”

  “Now that you’ve confirmed that fact …” Larkin waved a paw at the door.

  “Of course,” Kash said with an amused smile. “Lucky I tagged along.”

  Larkin waved a hand. “Pfft, if you’d decided not to come, I’d have slipped us in, but I’d rather conserve my energy for the big stuff. Moving two entities through realities is hard enough; moving three will be a challenge I’ll need a full battery for.”

  Kash smirked and climbed the steps. “Move aside, and let the master do his thing.”

  Larkin rolled his eyes but obliged.

  We gathered on the porch, and Kash crouched and set to work.

  There was an eerie scream, and then boot falls echoed through the night behind us.

  “Get back.” Larkin dragged us into the shadows. “Hush.”

  A man ran into view, clutching his abdomen. His face was pale, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He looked over his shoulder, stumbled, and fell to the ground.

  “Shit.” I made to step out of the shadows, but Larkin gripped my wrist.

  “No,” he said. “You can’t be seen. This may be part of the main storyline.”

  A figure loped toward the man. Hunched over, naked, and gnarled with impossibly long talon-tipped fingers. It was hairless, and its eyes were blood red. It opened its mouth, showcasing elongated fangs, and emitted the eerie screech we’d heard a moment ago.

  “No. Please.” The man held up his hands. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

  Fuck this. “We have to do something.”

  “We can’t,” Larkin snapped.

  “This isn’t just a fucking show, it’s real. These people are real, and if he dies, he dies for fucking real.” I pulled out of his grasp and was almost at the steps, almost out of the cover of shadows, when there was a low whistling sound, and the monster jerked, threw back its head, and screamed.

  Shit, I’d be screaming too if I had an arrow protruding from my heart. The monster convulsed. His body shimmered and changed from a naked, hairless, and ugly creature to a non-descript Caucasian male. Blood spurted from his mouth, and then he keeled over onto his back and lay still.

  The wounded man the monster had been about to attack sobbed in relief as several figures joined him. A slender, raven-haired female, a male wearing a black beanie, and a tall, powerfully built man with golden hair and gray eyes. My pulse jumped in my throat.

  “Payne?” His name slipped from my lips.

  Payne’s head whipped up as if he’d heard me, which was impossible, as we were too far away.

  And then the beanie guy was helping the wounded, quivering man up. The dark-haired chick kicked the dead monster in the ribs. He now looked like an average guy with an arrow in his heart.

  I knew her. Trinity Lane. The principal’s daughter. But what was she doing with Payne?

  “Fucking suckers,” the beanie dude said. “How many more do you think there are, Payne?”

  Payne shook his head. “They move in nests, so where there’s one, there’ll be more. We should head back to base and regroup.”

  Trinity nodded. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  The beanie guy pulled a vial from his pocket, uncapped it, and sprinkled something over the dead monster. There was a fizzing sound, and then the body disintegrated into ash and floated away.

  “We need to regroup,” Trinity said. “Get a handle on this.”

  They retreated, taking the wounded man with them.

  My heart was pounding hard. Suckers. Bloodsuckers … nightblood? That thing had been a fucking nightblood, or this reality’s version of one anyway.

  Shit. “We have to follow them.” I clambered down the steps.

  “Justice, wait!” Larkin called down to me. “Stop.”

  I paused. “What? They’re getting away.”

  Larkin and Kash exchanged a look I couldn’t fathom.

  “What is it? Why are you looking at each other like that?”

  It was Kash that answered. “Justice, what we just saw was a main plotline for this season. The suckers come to town, and Trinity and her gang deal with the problem, except… Now they have a new member. Payne.”

  If he was saying what I thought he was saying, he could piss off. “No. I don’t care.”

  “I’m sorry,” Larkin said. “It’s too risky to approach Payne while he’s part of the main plot.”

  My mind was whirring. “Fine, then we wrap up the plot so they can move on to something else. Trinity and her Academy misfits will be relegated to the background, and another set of characters will become the focus of the show.”

  Larkin studied me warily. “Justice …”

  No, I wasn’t going to walk away. Not now. Not when I’d gotten this far. “We give the plot a push. We find the nest for them, so they can finish off the suckers.”

  Kash locked gazes with me. “I’m in.”

  Larkin ran a hand over his face. “Oh, boy.”

  Fourteen

  Larkin shut the census book, a huge tome that sat proudly on a pedestal. “Okay, so we have an address for Payne,” he said. “He’s living in the cottage on Academy grounds. He’s the new psychology professor.”

  Lunar Creek
was a place filled with supernatural creatures, most of whom didn’t have a clue they were supernatural. A few, like Trinity and her misfit friends, had figured out they were different and taken it upon themselves to protect the village from harmful forces. They also all happened to be tutors at the local Academy. The majority plodded along in blissful oblivion.

  “So, we find the nest,” Kash said. “Tip Trinity and her team off about the location—an anonymous call should do it—and let them wrap up the case. Once the case is over, the weavers won’t be looking at footage of them sleeping, so then we find Payne and convince him to come with us.”

  “All in the space of four hours.” Larkin looked at me. “When I say we leave, we leave, regardless, are we clear?”

  I pushed away the doubt. “We’re clear.”

  “Good.” He headed back to the census tome.

  “What are you doing?” Kash asked.

  “Phone number for the Lane residence.” He scanned the page and then nodded. “Got it.” He tapped his chin with a claw. “Now, if I were a sucker, where would I nest?”

  Both Larkin and Kash turned to look at me.

  “Hold up, I’m not a sucker, I’m a nightblood, and we do not nest, unless you call gathering for fancy balls nesting.”

  Larkin made a meh sound and seesawed his head. “I suppose so. The suckers of the creek are primal, and their only focus is their next meal.”

  I scanned my memories of the show. There had to be a place, a location that had been mentioned before to foreshadow the events of this season. The warehouse on the east side that had been used two seasons ago, or the abandoned farmhouse on the south side, or maybe they’d holed up in an alley somewhere. It was impossible to figure it out until we knew more about these creatures and their habits.

  “We need more information about this breed of sucker.” I headed toward the exit. “We’re going to have to eavesdrop on Trinity’s meeting.”