by N M Thorn
“Be careful. It’s silver,” warned Yakov, closing the box.
She nodded, but the tense set of her shoulders told him she knew exactly what was locked inside this plain wooden case.
“Today, I retrieved this box from Napoleon Bonaparte. Luckily, I was in time, and this dangerous man had no idea what he had in his possession,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow, I could have been too late to stop another human from discovering the magical properties of this artifact and using it. Since it cannot be destroyed, I need it hidden and well-protected.”
“I understand,” she said, hatred and disgust distorting her face. “This thing is a magical abomination. It should have never existed in the first place.”
“Agreed.” Yakov reached into his pocket and produced a tiny, clear crystal. He whispered a few words, and a soft purple glow ignited within it, giving it the resemblance to amethyst. Moving the crystal along the seam of the box, he sealed it completely and offered the box to the rusalka. “It is sealed. Without this crystal, no one can open this box again, but I don’t think it’s enough. I need you to take it into your kingdom and guard it.”
The young woman got up, stepping softly with her bare feet on the frozen land. With trembling hands, she took the box from Yakov and nodded to him.
“You and I are the only people who know about it,” said Yakov, rising. “Protect it with your life. No one should ever get their hands on it.”
“I’ll guard it with my life.” The young woman turned around and dove into the lake, disappearing in its dark waters.
Now it’s gone forever...
Yakov snapped his fingers and spun around, a dark mist wrapping around him like a shimmering veil. A moment later, the man was gone, and a large white-tailed eagle materialized in his place. With one flap of its enormous wings, the bird rose in the air and disappeared into the dark of night.
Chapter 1
~ Damian Blake ~
Somewhere on the outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona
Halloween night...
A giant orange moon hung low over the horizon. Its bright light made its way between the dusty window shutters, reflecting in the faded mirror above the bar counter, throwing playful flares at the multicolored liquor bottles.
The bar was relatively dark, illuminated only by the LED strip lights installed around the perimeter of the room and an old neon sign above the mirror with the name of the establishment—The Midnight Shift. A curtain of cigarette smoke flowed under the low ceiling, and its smell mixed in with the pungent odor of different liquors seemed to be permanently etched into everything.
Fake spider webs, spangled with plastic spiders and other creepy crawlers, hung in every corner. A plastic pumpkin with a wide smile shining with electric light stood at the side of the counter, completing the Halloween decor.
Owned by one of the Phoenix packs, The Midnight Shift had recently been declared a sanctuary, allowing all local representatives of the supernatural community to relax and have a drink or two without being concerned for their lives and safety. A powerful turn-away spell placed on the building kept all mundanes untouched by the World of Magic away, and the local human hunters who were well aware of the bar’s status normally avoided it. Despite his “professional” status, Damian liked this place and allowed himself to spend a few hours here once in a great while.
Damian twirled an empty shot glass between his fingers, a muscle twitching in his tightly pressed jaw. He reached for his phone just to see a dark screen without any new notifications.
“Come on, Cole,” he murmured under his breath. “What’s taking you so long?”
He put the phone back in the pocket of his light leather jacket, nibbling on his lip.
“One more?”
Damian glanced at the bartender and nodded, placing the shot glass back on the counter. The man was dressed in an orange, Halloween-themed shirt with a black cat that looked too cute for a person of his size and shape to wear in public. Damian lowered his eyes, the corners of his lips quirking up in a tiny smile. It wasn’t only that the bartender was almost as tall as him, but he was also a werewolf, and a picture of a kitty in a pointy witch hat stretched across his overly muscled chest just didn’t fit the bill.
The bartender filled another glass with vodka and placed it in front of him. Damian took it, rolling it between his thumb and middle finger.
“Thanks, Kaleb,” he said to the werewolf. “Something tells me I may need another one later.”
Kaleb flicked his eyebrow at him, and his one-sided smirk exposed a set of sharp, paper-white teeth shining with bluish shades of the LED lights.
“Hey, Damian, slow down.” Jamie pushed him on his shoulder slightly to attract his attention. “Are you sure drinking is a good idea?”
“It takes a lot more for me to get drunk, Jamie,” he muttered, emptying the contents of the shot glass into his mouth. “A lot more than a bottle of vodka, let alone two small shot glasses. I may as well be drinking water.”
He glanced sideways at the young wizard and smirked. Nervousness shone in Jamie’s blue eyes, his fingers folding and unfolding a napkin.
“Listen, Jamie.” Damian straightened, turning toward him slightly. “No offense, but you’re not ready, man. I’ve been training you less than three months, which is nothing when it comes to the World of Magic. It takes years to muster your spell casting and even longer to control your magic. Fire magic is supposed to be your strength, but you can barely light a candle.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Jamie, his lips forming a stubborn straight line. “And Ace is ready? Your brother has no problem with her following him everywhere.”
Damian drew in a long breath and knocked on the counter with an empty shot glass to attract Kaleb’s attention. Normally, he didn’t mind Ace tagging along with Cole. During the day, she worked at his company, and at night, she attended all his royal meetings and Court gatherings. Even though she was very young as a person and had barely taken off her training wheels as a Destiny Enforcer, the Destiny Council considered her fit to shadow the King of Arizona, so he wasn’t going to argue despite his personal reservations. Besides, protecting his brother had always been his job, so he never counted on any outside help.
Today, however, his nerves were on edge, and the presence of two young people who barely had any experience with real combat situations just added to his feeling of unease. Cole was in a meeting with the leaders of the largest opposing group of vampires, hoping to find common ground and convince them to join his Court. Knowing this particular faction, Damian had been against this meeting from the get-go, considering it to be as dangerous as it was useless. However, his brother had disagreed, trying to use diplomatic methods first before plunging the state into open warfare.
Kaleb filled another glass with vodka, moving it closer to him. Damian brought it up, inhaling the burning scent of alcohol, and then downed it in one shot. Letting out a harsh breath, he turned back to Jamie.
“I’m not my brother,” he said quietly, “and Ace is not my responsibility. But it’s my responsibility to support Cole’s position in the Vampire Court and make sure the war between different vampire factions is not going to affect the realm of humans. And that’s exactly what I’m planning to do. If something goes wrong—”
His cellphone vibrated in his pocket, and he cut himself off, rising. He pulled the phone out and quickly read Cole’s message on the screen.
“NO DICE 911”
Turning toward Jamie, he looked down at him and frowned. He wished the young wizard would change his mind and stay back, but there was no power in this world that would have talked him out of going.
“Last chance, Jamie,” he said softly, his voice almost pleading. “Please, stay behind, my friend. You still have a lot to learn.”
“Theory without practice is useless. Practice makes perfect,” retorted Jamie, sounding like a high school student reporting in front of the class. He got up and adjusted his light jacket, checking his pockets.
“And don’t forget the most famous one—buy low, sell high,” muttered Damian snidely. “Any other quotes you’d like to share?” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and threw a few bills on the counter. Stifling a sigh, he headed out of the bar, motioning for Jamie to follow him.
As soon as they stepped out the door, the cool evening air enveloped him, but Damian ignored the cold, his mind set on getting to his brother as soon as possible. Quickly surveying the area, he grunted. It was Halloween evening and despite the late hour, kids dressed like assorted monsters and superheroes promenaded down the street accompanied by their parents. Laughing, chatting and having fun, they were none the wiser of the terrible territorial war unfolding in the shadows behind the well illuminated and decorated main street.
He turned the corner, leaving the main street behind. Hiding in the shadows, he made sure there was no one watching them. Then he placed his hand on Jamie’s shoulder and snapped his fingers, teleporting them closer to the location of the meeting. Since he didn’t know what kind of security measures the leaders of the opposing faction had taken, he teleported to a secluded location he’d selected ahead of time—a tiny dark alley located away from any major streets and a safe distance from their final destination.
As soon as they manifested in the alley, he switched to a light run, throwing an occasional glance over his shoulder to make sure Jamie was keeping up with him. Soon, the tiny suburban street turned into a narrow two-lane asphalt road. Curving its way around a few sandy hills, it left the peaceful suburbia on his right side.
The farther they moved, the colder and darker it became, and Damian had no doubt it wasn’t just the night desert temperatures that sent shivers down his back. Sharpening his senses, the putrid stench of demonic essence assailed him, but besides the reek of sulfur, he detected some other presence he couldn’t identify. Dark and elusive, it seemed vaguely familiar, yet he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Damian pressed the back of his hand to his nose and mouth, slowing down to allow Jamie to catch up with him. The young man halted by his side and leaned forward, bracing his arms against his lap to catch his breath.
“For an old man, you sure know how to run,” he said, panting. Looking up, he shook his head and straightened, wiping sweat off his forehead. “Why are we here, anyway? Farther, just around this hill...” He waved to the left at the dark silhouette of a mountain, still breathing hard. “It’s Camelback mountain... Expensive homes... in the millions...”
“I figured as much. Old vamps and their money,” murmured Damian. “This entire area emanates hostility and dark magical energy.” He thought for a moment, staring at his young companion, and added, “Be careful. Chances are, once we breach the perimeter, I may not be able to protect you.”
Quickly crossing the road, Damian switched to a light jog, following the road circling the hill. A view of a beautiful, contemporary estate perched on a hillside unfolded before him, and he halted again, scanning it with his second sight. It was surrounded by black wrought iron fencing but only from three sides as the back of it was blocked by the hill. Tall double gates were locked, but as far as he could see, no one was guarding the entry, and that just threw a countless number of red flags in his mind.
A thick layer of protective magic lingered around the perimeter of the property, and runes glowing with a deep purple light were inscribed on the fence and the gates, indicating the presence of powerful wards.
I can’t break through these wards without triggering some kind of reaction and an alarm. Damian explored the fence as far as he could see but didn’t find even a single weak point. He looked up just to realize that he couldn’t go over the fence either—a thin net of glowing lines encapsulated the entire estate, crisscrossing and shimmering with purple light like some freakishly large spider web.
“Jamie...” He glanced to the side where Jamie was supposed to be, but he wasn’t there. Damian twirled around and found him by the gates. “Jamie, no!” he yelled, but it was too late.
The young wizard reached forward and touched the gates. The wards lit up brighter, responding with a soft, barely noticeable vibration. Seemingly, nothing changed, but Damian knew better. In one swift motion, he grabbed Jamie, pulled him away from the gates and turned him around, shielding him with his body.
“Procedia Amnia!” he shouted the basic protection spell, channeling the elemental energy into his magic to reinforce it. Just as the shield, glowing with a dim yellow light, surrounded them, a powerful surge of dark magical energy exploded outward from somewhere within the property lines. It traveled as fast as a blast wave, lifting clouds of sand and tiny pebbles into the air. Damian growled as the dark energy impacted his shield, his arms shaking with tremendous strain. Jamie bent down, wrapping his arms around his head.
The wave moved a few feet farther and dissipated on its own. Without removing the protective shield, Damian turned around in place, staring at the wards in shock. The lines in the sky and runes over the gates and fences shone brighter than before, the air around them vibrating with a low buzz.
“What the hell was that?” mumbled Jamie, straightening.
“Wards,” replied Damian, breathing hard. “You activated the wards that were placed on this property.”
“Sorry,” whispered the young man, looking as guilty as a dog who had stolen a piece of juicy chicken. “What now?”
“Now, since the element of surprise is no longer an option, we make an entry,” replied Damian, channeling as much magic toward his hands as he could. “And we fight. No matter what we find behind this overpriced fence.”
“But we don’t know what—”
“I don’t give a damn. My brother is in there. I’ll kill anything that gets in my way.” He thrust his arm forward, his body igniting with the bright orange glow of the elemental energy he was wielding, and shouted, “Exitius!”
The gates blew up, turning into warped chunks of metal, and the ground shook, the tremors spreading around Damian in rapid succession. He stepped heavily over the threshold created by his magic and looked up, a dark smirk curving his lips. The glowing web of wards was gone, but a cloud of gray particles was slowly rotating above the ground.
“I suggest you run,” he hissed at Jamie and moved toward the entrance into the house, following the beautifully paved driveway up the hill.
Even though the driveway lights were still glowing, and the windows of the house were shining with bright, electric lights, the closer he got to the entrance, the darker it became. As the driveway started to curve sharply, multiple shady figures emerged from the night, the hostile vibes of demonic presence unmistakable around them.
Damian didn’t slow down. As his daggers materialized in his hands, he cut into the first demon who was close enough for him to reach. A ray of eye-watering white light pierced the demon’s body, obliterating the host and the demonic essence before the demon could shimmer out.
“Igneous,” yelled Jamie, but instead of a fire blast, a tiny flickering flame ignited in the palm of his hand, making the demon he was facing bark with laugher. The monster swung his hairy arm, aiming at Jamie’s face. His massive fist was met by Damian’s hand. Wrapping the demon’s fist with his fingers, Damian applied some pressure, making the attacker stagger backward.
“Pick someone your own size, asshole,” he growled at the demon, squeezing his fingers tighter. Then he turned to Jamie, and his lips curved into a snarl. “Let me show you how it’s done, student of mine.” Extending his free hand forward, he shouted, “Ignius Orbus.”
A fireball crackling with blistering flames materialized in his palm. With lightning speed, he thrust the fireball into the demon’s chest and let go. The monster screamed in pain, twirling in place, setting other demons on fire.
“Igneous Amplio!” Damian held out both his hands, and a powerful jet of physical fire erupted from his palms, spraying the remaining monsters. He turned back to Jamie, his chest shuddering with ragged breaths. “That’s how it’s done, boy.�
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Jamie nodded, his mouth half-open, his eyes glued to the screaming monsters being devoured by the hungry flames. “But you just killed a bunch of people,” he exhaled. “Their souls could have still been inside their—"
“I don’t have the luxury of caring about it right now,” growled Damian, heading toward the entrance door, but noticing the shock on the young wizard’s face, he sighed and added, “It was either them or us. Besides, I can see human souls with my second sight. They had none. Just monsters wearing dead human bodies.”
He halted in front of the door and scanned the building inside with his magical sight as far as he could reach. Glancing back at his companion, his lips pulled up into a sneer before he could stop it.
“Now the real fun begins,” he whispered, channeling his magic toward his hands. “Vampires. Deadly, clever, merciless. Don’t get cute with them, Jamie. Stay back and let me do all the talking.”
Instead of blasting the door with his spell, he placed his hand on the lock and whispered, “Recludius.”
The lock clicked softly, leaving the entrance unprotected. As his daggers materialized in his hands, he pulled his leg back and kicked the door open. The door hit the wall with a thunderous bang, and the sound carried through the enormous marble-adorned lobby, reverberating against the tall ceiling.
As soon as Damian crossed the threshold, something heavy crashed on his shoulders, and a cold, muscled arm wrapped around his neck, squeezing it with the strength of an industrial press. A strong hand forced his head to the side, and before he could react, razor-sharp fangs penetrated his skin.
A wild roar broke from his lips as he grabbed the unfortunate vamp’s head and twisted it, ripping it off his shoulders. A shower of gray ashes fell to his feet, and he raised his glowing eyes, his second sight revealing the position of every single vampire in the room.
“Jamie, stay outside,” he ordered without looking back, “it’s about to get...” He laughed and moved forward, the daggers in his hands blazing.
