The Shadow Deception: The Shadow Enforcer Series Book Two

by N M Thorn

  “I know.”

  “You’re also bleeding,” pointed out Kaleb, puffing his cigarette. “Can you heal yourself?”

  Damian nodded. “Yeah, I can, but I’m not going to. I need to preserve my strength in case this is not over yet. I’m fine.”

  Kaleb took another drag and closed his eyes. “So, what was it?”

  “That, my friend, were the monsters who killed all those werewolves,” replied Damian, stretching his legs, his entire body buzzing with exhaustion. “The new King of the Arizona Court was right. His vampires are innocent in all this. Now that you’ve seen it with your own eyes, I hope you’ll speak up in his favor.”

  “I’ll try. I don’t know how much weight my words carry, but I’ll do my best.” Kaleb stubbed his cigarette onto the floor. “Listen, Damian, it’s only the two of us here, so it’s between us. You’ve been coming to my bar for a while, and all this time, I thought you were one of those human hunters or slayers. I could never detect even an ounce of magic in you. What are you, man? You have magic and elemental power, but what’s with the wings? And the way you fight...” He raked his fingers through the thick mane of his hair, an awkward smile gracing his face. “Truth is, I’ve never seen wurdulaks, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a being of magic like you either.”

  Damian glanced at him briefly but then looked away, his fingers tracing the edge of his bracelet absentmindedly. “Consider yourself lucky,” he said quietly. “Trust me, you don’t want to meet someone like me ever again.” Catching Kaleb’s shocked gaze, he tapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I come to your bar when I’m off duty, to relax and unwind.”

  “I need something stronger than a cigarette,” mumbled Kaleb. He got up and walked around the bar. Placing two shot glasses on the counter, he found a bottle of vodka that survived the fight and filled the glasses to the brim. Damian scrambled to his feet and picked up a tall barstool, positioning it closer to the counter. As he sat down, his wounds responded with sharp pain, and he winced, clasping his torn shoulder.

  “Thank God you were here,” muttered Kaleb, raising his glass. “We all would’ve been dead if not for you. I owe you, man. If there is anything I can do to repay you, let me know.”

  Damian downed his vodka in one gulp and exhaled a ragged breath, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.

  “Actually, there is,” he said at length, raising his eyes at the werewolf. “Unlike vampires, wurdulaks are conjured by dark magic—usually by a forbidden branch of the Dark Arts called necromancy. So, I’m looking for a necromancer powerful enough to cast this kind of incantation. Your bar is a sanctuary, so you see all kinds of supernatural... um... beings here. Do you know of anyone like this?”

  “Supernatural beings?” Kaleb chuckled and leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the counter. “Is that your way of saying supernatural scum?”

  “I’m sure some of your clientele are scum.” Damian propped his elbow on the bar top, running his index finger over the rim of the glass. “Far from all, though.”

  “Agreed. The beauty of a sanctuary—no judgment zone,” muttered Kaleb. He thought for a moment, furrowing his brow, and then added, “I don’t know anyone with such skills. But I may know someone who can point you in the right direction.” He grabbed a napkin and a pen and quickly wrote down an address, offering the paper to Damian. “He’s a small-time wizard with less than average magical skills, but his ability to skim and manipulate are unmatched.” He smirked and waved his hand carelessly. “He does some potion-making and divination to make a few bucks here and there. Charlatan, you know? Skimming unsuspecting humans.” Kaleb rolled his eyes. “It’s his connections that you want. If there is a powerful player in this community, he will know who it is no matter how secretive and careful this person is.”

  Damian glanced at the address, frowning. The wizard’s place of residence was in Blue Creek, and he wondered if Sam knew about him. “What’s his name?” he asked, folding the napkin and placing it in his pocket.

  “He goes by Az,” replied Kaleb, straightening. “I’m sure it’s not his real name, but that’s all I know.”

  “Thanks,” replied Damian, rising. “Something tells me Az’s services are not going to be cheap, but I have to start somewhere.” He looked around, carefully checking the area with his second sight as far as he could reach. “Do you mind if I teleport directly out of your bar? I’m covered in blood and too tired to walk around.”

  “There is no one here.” Kaleb shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes taking in his partially destroyed establishment. “Knock yourself out. I have to stay and clean up this mess.”

  Damian shook Kaleb’s hand and snapped his fingers, vanishing from the bar.

  Paradise Manor stood dark, only porch lights illuminating the entrance. Gloomy shadows gathered in every corner where the electric lights or the glimmer of the moon couldn’t reach, spooking them away. Damian glanced at his wristwatch, realizing that it was a lot later than he thought. He unlocked the door and tiptoed his way through the hallway toward his room.

  “Psst...”

  He heard River’s voice coming from the kitchen and turned around, halting in the doorway. Dressed in her pajama pants and a tank top, she sat at the table, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea. Her long hair wasn’t tied in a ponytail and fell over her shoulders and chest in messy, copper strands.

  “Come here, Damian,” she said, patting the chair next to her, her eyes alight with relief.

  “River, what are you doing up so late?” he asked, lowering onto the chair with a groan as his battered body responded to his move with sharp spikes of pain and soreness. “It’s past midnight.”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugged nonchalantly and got up, heading toward the refrigerator. “Hungry?”

  A faint smile touched his lips. “Probably. I’m too tired to feel hunger.”

  “Sorry, I’m not the best cook in the world, but you have to eat something,” she said, taking a box with Chinese takeout. “When I have to cook, I make a reservation or order takeout.”

  She put some fried rice and chicken on a plate and placed everything in the microwave. Once it beeped, she pulled the plate out and put it in front of Damian.

  “Eat, soldier,” she said, giving him a fork. “I already know how you function. Most likely you haven’t eaten since morning.” She thought for a moment and added, “Assuming you had breakfast, that is.”

  “Thank you,” Damian said, warmth filling his chest. “One day, I promise, I’ll cook for you.”

  He’d never had anyone take care of him, not even when he was a child. As an adult, he led the kind of life that didn’t allow him to settle down or to have any kind of personal attachments. Since he moved to Paradise Manor, his life had changed drastically—he had found his brother, had a roof over his head, and most importantly, he was surrounded by people who actually cared about him.

  Even though it had been a few months, he never took anything for granted, quietly enjoying his new lifestyle while always waiting for the other shoe to drop. The World of Magic was cruel, and he knew that everything he had right now could have been easily taken away from him the next moment.

  “Are you going to heal that?” she asked, sitting down as she pointed at the wound on his upper arm. “Do you need me to take care of it for you?”

  “No, it’s okay. It looks worse than it feels,” he replied, throwing a quick glance at the welts on his arm. The bleeding had stopped, but the cuts looked grisly, and his skin was covered in brown stains of dried out blood. “I’ll heal. I just need to take a shower and get some rest. Not necessarily in that order.”

  “I can heal you, Dima.” Damian snapped around to see his brother stand barefoot in the doorway, his eyes glowing slightly. Dressed in silky pajama pants and a T-shirt, with his long curls in disarray, he looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Cole closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were back to their normal color. “With all that ‘walking-dead’ vibe you’r
e giving off, I don’t think you have what it takes to perform any self-healing.”

  Cole headed toward the table, pulled a chair out and sat down across from him. His fangs expanded as he brought his wrist to his lips, ready to bite, but Damian grabbed his arm, stopping him.

  “Thanks, Cole,” he said, throwing a veiled glance at River as he gave a soft squeeze to his brother’s wrist. “Freshly brewed vampire blood is not on my menu today.”

  River gasped, her eyes darting from Cole to Damian. “He wants you to drink his blood?” she asked, grimacing.

  Cole chuckled. “Vampire blood has healing properties,” he explained, lowering his arm onto the table. “Besides, with everything that’s going on, I want to create a blood bond with this doofus. Since he doesn’t know how to use his phone to call for help when he’s in trouble”—Cole waved his hand at Damian’s blood-covered arm—“at least I would know when he’s in distress.”

  “That’s all I need—a vampire in my head,” muttered Damian, rolling his eyes. He quickly finished his food and got up, walking toward the kitchen sink. He washed the plate, dried it and put it inside a cabinet. Turning around, he leaned his back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest.

  “At least you’d have something in your head.” Gypsy jumped on the kitchen counter soundlessly and rubbed her head against his elbow.

  Damian drew in a deep breath, shaking his head at the sarcastic feline, and picked her up, allowing her to settle in his arms.

  “I wouldn’t want you around me anyway,” he objected softly. “Not until I find this necromancer.” He told River and Cole everything that happened at The Midnight Shift. “Tomorrow, I’m going to visit this Az and see what gives.”

  “I’m coming with you,” said Cole in a no-nonsense voice. “You are not going anywhere alone.”

  “Sure thing, Cole.” Damian turned half-way to face his brother, sarcasm overflowing his words. “You come with me, so I can deliver you directly into the hands of a man who can turn you into a mindless slave. Sounds like an awesome plan.”

  Cole dropped his head, biting his lip, and Damian stifled a sigh, realizing how hard it must have been on him to stay behind doing nothing while his brother was fighting the fight for him. Cole got used to living his life at its fullest, despite him being a vampire, and laughing in the face of danger came natural to him.

  “It’s temporary, Cole. Just be patient,” Damian added softer and switched the subject. “Where are your bodyguards, anyway?”

  “Bodyguards?” Cole snorted. “River set up rooms for them, and they’re doing what bodyguards of their caliber are supposed to be doing—sleeping. I think if something happens, I’ll be the one protecting their bodies.”

  “That was always the idea, anyway.” Damian smirked with a slight shake of his head. “I want those kids in Paradise Manor behind all the protective magic. Don’t get me wrong, Ace is a capable fighter, but she’s too young as a person and too inexperienced as an Enforcer. As far as Jamie...” He sighed. “He’s a good man, but he has a lot to learn, and I actually want to teach him.”

  “Well, on that note, boys, I’m going to go and see if I can get some sleep. Unlike you, I’m not immortal, so sleep is not optional for me,” said River, rising, stretching her arms.

  She ruffled Cole’s hair as if he were her ten-year-old brother, eliciting a soft growl out of him and a chuckle out of Damian. As she approached Damian, Gypsy jumped off his arms, settling by his side on the counter. River’s eyes halted on the ugly wound on his arm, and she raised her hand, her fingers lingering over his damaged skin without touching it.

  “Dima, can we speak tomorrow morning, before I leave for work,” she asked, her voice a little raspy.

  She glanced up at him, lowering her hand on his forearm. He tensed at her touch and gently pulled away.

  “Of course. I should be awake by then, but if I am not, just wake me up.”

  She nodded, averting her gaze, sadness darkening her azure eyes, and he cursed himself inwardly for inadvertently hurting her. Taking her hand, he squeezed it gently, giving her a shy smile.

  “Good night, River... and thank you,” he said softly, placing all his gratitude into these simple words.

  “Good night, boys.” She smiled like nothing had happened and walked out the door, giving a dismissive wave of her hand.

  As soon as she was gone, Cole leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, staring at Damian with reproach.

  “Wow, that was really smooth, big bro,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Centuries later, you still have no idea how to make a lady happy.”

  “Learn from your brother, Sasquatch,” chimed in Gypsy, jumping off the counter to the floor. “His purr is almost as perfect as mine.”

  “Shut up, both of you,” grumbled Damian, making Cole snicker.

  “Even Gypsy knows I’m right.” He bent down, scratching the cat between her ears. “Good kitty.” Then he sobered up and sighed. “Dima, you know River likes you, right?”

  “And it’s a big problem,” snapped Damian, pushing away from the counter. “I’m a friggin’ Destiny Enforcer. Again!” A spike of anger rushed through him but quickly subsided, leaving him hollow on the inside. “I can’t do it, Cole. It’s not safe for me and her.”

  “River is a big girl, Damian. And she’s been exposed to the World of Magic,” he objected frostily. “If you like her at all, don’t you think she deserves to know the truth and make her own choices? Free will and all?”

  “Okay, this is where this conversation is over. Between the pain of my wounds and you being a pain in my neck, I choose the wounds. At least I can go and perform some healing magic.” Damian threw his hands up and headed toward the exit, shaking his head.

  “Good talk, big bro,” Cole yelled after him, tones of humor in his voice.

  Damian cursed quietly at his brother’s undying sarcasm and left the room.

  Chapter 11

  ~ Damian Blake ~

  Damian woke up with a start and jolted upright, sweat running down his face. He looked around and blinked a few times at the rays of morning sun bursting through the open window. He took a deep breath and dropped his head, leaning forward slightly as he tried to calm down.

  He had already forgotten the last time he had a peaceful rest. Since Mara showed him the vision of the mysterious man at the edge of the forest, who according to the goddess of Nightmares was responsible for his failure and death of his beloved, he couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, even just for a few minutes, the same vision played in his mind over and over, until he would wake up screaming.

  “I need to speak with Magnus about this,” he mumbled, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “I need to know who that man is. For more reasons than one...”

  He exhaled a ragged breath and sat up, lowering his feet to the floor. A soft knock made him flinch and snap his head. Opening his second sight, he scanned the area around and sighed with relief—the soft golden glow of a human’s soul outside his door reminded him that River wanted to speak with him in the morning.

  “Come in,” he yelled, raking his fingers through his hair to pull it over the left side of his face.

  River cracked the door open and looked inside before entering. She made her way to a chair and sat down, crossing her legs at the knee.

  “Did I wake you up?” she asked.

  “I wish you did, but no, you didn’t,” he replied, rubbing his cheeks, feeling the roughness of his stubble under his fingers.

  She nodded, readjusting her high ponytail on the back of her head. “Are you still planning to approach this man, Az, today?”

  “Yes. I need to clean up and get dressed, and then I’ll be on my way,” replied Damian, his voice sharper and more strained than he intended. “The sooner I find this necromancer, the faster we can go back to our normal lives. Besides, if I don’t do it soon, even Hawk won’t be able to stop the werewolves from killing the vampires. I can’t have it. Cole’s rule of the Ariz
ona Court must be stabilized by any means necessary, and the current situation doesn’t do him any favors.”

  “By any means necessary, huh?” huffed River, pursing her lips. “With whom am I speaking, Damian? The Destiny Enforcer Commander or my friend?”

  Damian grunted, stifling a sigh. “Both. I’m your friend, River, and your friendship means a lot to me, but just like you, I have my duties and obligations, and I can’t ignore them.” He frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose, and added, sounding softer, “I know you cooked up something in your head. Go ahead, I’m listening.”

  A hurt expression crossed her face, but it disappeared so fast that he wasn’t sure it wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

  “I want you to wait,” she said in that no-nonsense tone he got used to hearing from her when she was around other cops. “I need a couple of hours.”

  “What for?”

  “From what I understand, you know nothing about this Az. You don’t even know his real name,” she said dryly, iron tones ringing in her voice. “You’re going alone, without any backup, and I don’t want you flying blind. Give me two hours to run at least a basic background check and see what I can find on him.”

  A reproachful smile touched Damian’s lips, and he tilted his head slightly. “Can your background check tell me what kind of magic he wields or his supernatural identity?” She didn’t reply, remaining still with her lips pressed into a stubborn line. “That’s all I need to know, River. I don’t care if he ran a few red lights or was arrested for possession of an illegal substance.”

  “Be that as it may,” said River, rising. She didn’t raise her voice but lifted her eyebrows just a little, and that told Damian she wasn’t going to give up. “Can you give me just two goddamn hours? Cole is not going to lose his throne in a hundred-twenty minutes.” She approached him, gazing down into his eyes and added, gently touching his shoulder. “I understand you don’t care, but it would make me feel a lot better if I knew with whom you’re meeting and where. Last night, when I saw you all banged up, bleeding, your arm mutilated...” Her voice wavered, and she looked out the window, a light breeze coming through it playing with her hair. “I’m glad you can self-heal almost any injury, but don’t tell me you weren’t in pain...”