by N M Thorn
Feeling a soft touch to his shoulder, he turned around to see River and Ace standing behind him. He smiled at them calmly, hoping that his acting ability didn’t fail him and that his smile was reassuring enough.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, taking River’s hand into his. “They can’t cross the property line, and these wards will hold for quite some time.”
River gave him a reproachful gaze, all but rolling her eyes. “For an old vampire, you’re a pretty bad liar, Cole Adams, but I appreciate the effort.”
A tall werewolf approached the fence and put his hand on it, eliciting a furious reaction out of the wards. Cole recognized him right away. It was the same man with whom he had spoken at the door in Paradise Manor, the same man who put the order to kill him but murdered Jesse instead. It was Simon Cox.
“Hawk,” Simon said, disdain distorting his wolfish features, deep creases crossing his narrow forehead with a protruding brow bone. “And here I thought you couldn’t fall any lower. Your preaching the Vampire Court’s innocence in murders of our kind was one thing, but you offering your pack’s protection to a bloodsucker is—”
He cut himself off and shook his head, turning toward his wolves as if asking for their support. The loud shouts, the angry downpour of profanities and raised weapons were the answer to his words.
“Simon, you know Hawk is right.” A man moved forward from behind Hawk’s back, stepping next to him. “I have proof of that. I witnessed the attack of the wurdulaks myself—”
“Kaleb!” Simon growled, and his lips drew back in a snarl. “You’re a fuckin’ turncoat. You left your pack to support this traitor and his vamp?”
“Why are you talking to them, Simon?” Simon’s wizard approached the fence and moved his hand, probing the wards.
The wards buzzed, and for a brief moment, a dome built of glowing red lines materialized over Hawk’s property, completely encapsulating it. The wizard pulled his hand away, raking his short, knobby fingers through his long, greasy hair, discomfort reflected on his wrinkled face.
“Enjoying the view, old meat-bag?” asked Hawk snidely, cocking his head.
“These wards are quite potent,” the wizard replied, placing his hands on his hips. “But I’m sure you know there is no such thing as unbreakable protection magic, no matter who cast it. If one being of magic conjured wards, the other can break them. And I’m here to prove that theory.” He raised his hand above his head and twirled his wrist. Four people separated from the crowd—three men and a woman. “Let me know when you’re in position.”
The four nodded and took off running—two men went to the left, and a woman and man to the right.
“Dammit,” muttered Cole, biting his lips. “I think I know what they’re planning to do.”
“It doesn’t matter,” replied Hawk with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve seen a hundred of Guardian Witches trying to break these wards and they had a hard time. I’m not going to worry about four self-taught, immature spell-slingers.”
“I understand, but just in case, we should be ready,” Cole said quietly.
Just as if to prove his words, the wizard pulled the sleeves of his jacket up and placed his palms on the fence, chanting softly under his breath. His hands lit up with a sinister purple glow, and a thick ray of dark magical energy escaped his hands, traveling up the protective dome. Cole twirled around, noticing four more similar rays of purple light running up and connecting into a single point high above their heads.
Dammit… They’re building a pentagram. Anything could happen after they are done with that. Cole reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, quickly checking the lock screen. There were no messages or notifications. He dialed Damian’s phone number, but after a few short beeps, the call went to his brother’s voice mail. Dima, come on… Don’t you know that when the little black box in your pocket rings, you need to press the green button? He exhaled a ragged breath and hung up the phone, putting it back into his pocket. Dima, I need you to be all right…
“Cole, what is that?” He heard River’s troubled voice and glanced at her. She was pointing up, her eyes wide with wonderment.
A few more lines crossed the dome, and the wards howled, vibrating angrily.
“They completed the pentagram,” answered Cole, keeping his eyes on the opposing army as the werewolves and demons took a step closer to the fence, a carnivorous hunger and bloodlust reflected on their faces void of any humanity.
“What do we do?” River whispered, taking his elbow.
“We do the hardest thing in the world—we wait.” Cole glanced down at her but didn’t find fear in her calm face, just cold determination.
As the dark wizards kept chanting, the purple light grew brighter, and the buzz of the wards became so loud, it was nearly unbearable. The web of blazing, red lines crisscrossed over the property. However, their light started to dim down a little, overpowered by the purple glow. Cole knew it would only be a matter of time before the wards fell. It might take them quite a few hours—days, even—to break them, but if they had more wizards to replace the exhausted ones, sooner or later, they would have it done.
“Hey, King,” Atticus’ voice sounded on Cole’s left, and he turned his head. “I’ve never seen a vampire fight.” The young werewolf smiled, showing his elongated fangs.
Cole gave him a quick once-over, wondering how young Hawk’s son was. “If we survive this, I promise to spar with you. If you want, of course.”
“If I want?” Atticus laughed, tapping Cole on his shoulder. “Hell, yeah. Bring it on, Majesty.”
A terrible ruckus rose in the air. It was so sudden that Cole yelped, pressing his hands to his ears to protect his overly sensitive hearing. The wards lit up with a blinding red light, and fire ignited at the top of the glowing dome, smoldering flames slowly gliding up and down the red lines.
“Heaven and Earth,” growled Hawk, his entire body locked with rage. “This asshole is going to do it… They’ll break the goddamn wards.”
As if hearing his words, the dark mass of the opposing army shifted forward and raised their assorted weapons, positioning themselves closer to the fence, ready to spring into action at the first command of their pack master.
Suddenly, a bright flare of light ignited somewhere in the desert behind the enemy line, and the ground shook violently. A bright zigzag of a lightning bolt split the sky, and thunder rolled across it, rising over the noise of the wards. Most of the men spun around, but the wizards kept at what they were doing, ignoring everything around them.
“Put down your weapons and stop what you’re doing at once!” A magically magnified voice rose above the pandemonium.
“Damian,” whispered Cole. As he recognized his brother’s voice, happiness bubbled up in him. “But how…?”
“Let me through!” Simon shouted, yanking his men out of his way.
The crowd parted, allowing Simon to pass, and now Cole could see his brother standing with his fists clenched, his entire body locked with fury. A tall man Cole had never seen before stood next to Damian, a derisive smirk playing on his lips as he glowered at the wizards working on the wards.
Simon shoved his hands into his pockets and spat, giving Damian a demonstrative once-over. Then he glanced back at his massive army, and a burst of laughter erupted from his mouth, accompanied by wild snorts as he bent forward, slapping his hands on his thighs.
“Make us stop, giant,” he said, cutting his laughter abruptly. “I wanna see you do that.”
“No problem,” Damian replied through gritted teeth, and the glowing daggers materialized in his hands. His eyes swept along the length of the massive army, and a dark smirk curved his lips. “Looks like a nice workout. I needed one.”
“Uhhh, scary.” Simon shivered, rubbing his arms with his hands. Then he looked back and waved his hand.
Five men separated from the crowd and approached him, exuding a vibe of superiority with their every move. Without slowing down, the
y muttered something, and energy orbs materialized in their palms. They propelled them forward, aiming at Damian, but Damian moved his hand, and a thin, glowing layer of his protection spell wrapped around him and his companion.
Unfortunately, the wizards didn’t get discouraged, and neither did they become any smarter. They kept conjuring one energy orb after another, bombarding Damian’s shield with a mighty force but with nothing to show for it. Damian folded his arms, the smirk on his face growing wider and wider with every next failed attempt. Finally, his companion groaned and stepped forward with an impatient wave of his hand.
“Allow me to teach you how it’s done,” he grumbled, raising his arms.
He muttered something under his breath, and a powerful wave of magical energy spread around him. It impacted Simon and his wizards with a mighty force, sending them flying backward into the other members of his army and creating momentary confusion and disorder.
“They call themselves wizards. A bunch of amateurs.” The man tongued his cheek, staring at Simon’s wizards struggling to get to their feet. “These young ones truly have no idea what they’re doing. They used to make them better in my days."
Finally, Simon was able to restore order, and with furious roars, his men rushed toward Damian and his companion. But as another flare of light ignited behind Damian, they came to a screeching halt. Unable to stop right away, the back lines smashed into the front ones, making them stagger forward and causing some people to fall, cursing angrily.
Five horsemen, dressed in ancient armor with white coats over it, rode from the desert and halted next to Damian, sunlight throwing playful flares on their breastplates. The front horseman leaned down slightly to tap Damian’s shoulder and then raised his leather-gloved hand. Cole froze in place as he recognized Luc de la Crosse. He had seen the Master Warden before, but never had he seen him in his full regalia and his true form.
“In the name of the Destiny Council, Simon Cox, I command you to stop what you’re doing or suffer the consequences.” Luc wasn’t shouting, but his strong voice carried through the desert, rising above the ruckus of the wards.
“I second that,” Damian added, and his entire body lit up with a blinding white light as he assumed his Destiny Enforcer form, his mighty black wings expanding behind his back. Then he looked up at the Master Warden and a lopsided smirk touched his lips. “What took you so long, man? I know you ordered us to hold back and avoid the fight for as long as possible, but if you waited a few more minutes...” He chuckled darkly.
Doofus… Cole snorted at his brother’s familiar behavior and the lack of manners appropriate to the World of Magic, and he shook his head slightly, just happy to see Damian here and in one piece.
“Whoa…” Atticus breathed, his eyes alight with awe. “Who are these people?”
“On the horse—the Master Warden of Arizona,” Cole answered quietly. “With the wings”—he looked at the young man and smiled, pride constricting his throat—“my brother… The Commander of the Destiny Enforcers.”
A collective gasp rushed through the lines of Simon’s army, and a shuffling noise rose above the men as they dropped their weapons and kneeled.
“Simon Cox,” Luc de la Crosse continued, pointing at the Alpha. “You’re under arrest for exposing the World of Magic and killing a human in cold blood. I offer safety to all the members of your pack if you comply with my orders willingly.” He looked at Damian and gave him a curt nod. “Do your duty, Commander Blake.”
Simon looked back at his people, and then his eyes darted to Cole and Hawk. For a brief moment, deep loathing distorted his features, but he didn’t say anything and turned away, facing the Master Warden.
Moving slowly, he kneeled and bowed his head. Damian extended his hand and his daggers vanished, replaced by a pair of handcuffs glowing with bright white light. He approached Simon and touched his head. The Destiny Cuffs shone brighter and disappeared just to materialize on Simon’s wrists, binding them together. The werewolf moaned, his eyes rolled back, and he fell to the side, unconscious.
“This war between the werewolves and the Arizona Vampire Court is over! On behalf of the Destiny Council, I attest that Cole Adams and his subjects are not responsible for the deaths of the werewolves.” Luc de la Crosse looked down at Simon’s army and sighed. “You are free to go,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Next time, choose your alliances wiser.”
As the crowd dispersed, all but running into the desert, Luc dismounted and approached Damian.
“Commander Blake,” he said softly, pointing at the other Wardens. “My Brothers will take the werewolf to the Destiny Council holding facility.” His hazel eyes flashed to Damian’s companion, and he gave him a slight nod. “I see you found Yakov Bruce. I’m not going to ask why or how because we need a powerful ally. In light of the latest events, we need to have a serious discussion.”
Cole approached the fence, his eyes meeting Damian’s glowing gaze. “I was trying to call you to let you know we were here,” he said, his voice hoarse, “but I couldn’t get through. How did you know? Dima—”
“I’ll explain everything in a moment, Cole.” Damian stepped closer, switching his attention to Hawk. “Hawk, would you kindly invite the three of us in? Like the Master Warden said—we have a serious issue on our hands.”
Chapter 25
~ Damian Blake ~
Hawk’s kitchen seemed to be too small to accommodate all the people gathered there. While everyone settled down, Atticus brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and the warm, bitter aroma spread through the air. Moving fluidly and weightlessly for a man of his size, he filled a few cups with the hot drink, taking care of everyone in the room.
With so many people crammed into the small kitchen, Damian’s claustrophobia reared its ugly head, and he had to make an effort to suppress the debilitating need to be out of there and remain calm. He took a large gulp of hot coffee, nearly burning his tongue, and started talking.
It didn’t take long for him to brief everyone in, going over everything that had happened since Jamie and he arrived in Encino and found JB. When he was done, he dropped his arms on the table. His eyes swept over the faces of the people gathered in the small kitchen, and bitter disappointment in himself twisted his gut, his scalp prickling with shame.
“I can’t believe I made such a stupid mistake,” he said, lowering his head. “Since the moment I started searching for a necromancer, I had a feeling that he was toying with me, playing some kind of twisted cat-and-mouse game. It felt as if he wanted me to find him, leading me toward him.” He slammed his fist on the table, making the cups jump and spill some of their contents. “God damn it all! How could I be so blind?”
“Damian, you couldn’t have known all that. We all make mistakes,” started River but pulled back under his pained stare.
“I’m a Destiny Enforcer. When I make mistakes, people get hurt,” he said, his voice strained. “Jesse is dead because I made this mistake.”
“Take a notch down on the self-loathing, Commander.” Luc de la Crosse touched his shoulder, his chainmail rustling softly with his every move. “First, Jesse is dead because he didn’t listen to Cole and River when they told him to stay back. Second, you’re not the only one who was blindsided. You reported to me on every move you made, and it never even crossed my mind that JB was Yakov Bruce. If I had realized it sooner, I would’ve told you that Yakov works for the Destiny Council, and you would’ve known that Az is not who he claims to be.”
The old wizard chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, JB is not the name I use commonly, but some people do call me that. Imagine my shock when these two showed up at my doorstep, claiming I was an evil necromancer.” He smirked, shaking his head.
“Where is Jamie?” asked Ace, shifting her way closer to Cole. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” replied Damian. “He should be here in a few hours. When Luc called me, telling me about the situation at Paradise Manor and a possible confrontati
on at Hawk’s ranch, Yakov and I teleported here right away, but Jamie stayed behind to drive the SUV back to Cole’s house.”
Luc leaned against the counter, the metallic sound of his armor too loud in the silence of the room.
“By the way,” he said, “I checked Az’s name against the Wardens Archives. Guess what? Azul Moreno is a registered small-time wizard with some clairvoyance. So, who in their right mind could think he mustered such a complex branch of forbidden magic as necromancy?”
“Well, Luc, I think there is a lot more to this Azul Moreno than your archives have registered.” Yakov shook his head, reaching in the pocket of his pants. “Unless Az is not Azul Moreno as he claims to be.” He placed the dagger on the table and pressed on the eyes of the eagle’s head, opening the empty secret compartment. “But unfortunately, no matter who he is, we have a huge problem.”
Luc took the dagger from the table. His fingers lit up with a barely noticeable glow of his magic as he probed the weapon with it.
“The blade has no magical properties,” he said, giving it back to Yakov. “If I understand you right, something is missing from this small compartment?”
“Yes.” Yakov took the dagger, placing it back on the table. “In the year of one thousand eight hundred and twelve of our Lord, I hid a small crystal inside the hilt of this dagger.” His fingers traced the shape of the eagle head on the pommel as he sighed and shook his head. “The crystal was a key that locked a dangerous and powerful magical device.”
“How powerful?” asked Cole.
