by D. N. Leo
Fire at Crossroad is the prequel of Shadow Hunter Trilogy.
SHADOW HUNTER TRILOGY by D.N Leo
Shadow Hunter Trilogy - By D.N. leo
http://dnleo.com
Book 0: FIRE AT CROSSROAD
Book 1: SHADOW SEEKER
Book 2: SHADOW KEEPER
Book 3: SHADOW DESTROYER
>>> SERIES HOME PAGE <<<
Prologue
This was the third time he had died.
His name was Michael Fraser. He was thirty years old—Earth age. When the fire swallowed him and burned his body and his mind, that had been the end of him.
He had traveled the multiverse so much he had lost track of time. But he vividly remembered how many times he had died. Or come close to it.
When he was eight, he had been ready to let his stepfather cut his throat. It was much easier for a street kid like him to die than survive the brutal New York winter without food and warm clothes. But Ciaran LeBlanc, a total stranger back then, hadn’t let him die.
He’d given Michael hope, but then he’d made him wait a long seven years until their paths crossed again. That was when he died for the second time. No human could survive being dragged across dimensions without protection. Again, Ciaran had helped him to stay alive, although not as a human.
And now, fifteen years later, he had died for the third time. This time, Ciaran wasn’t around.
He heard Ciaran’s voice echoing in his mind, “If you die, there’s nothing else you can do. You cannot help anyone any longer, and you will be forever in debt to me and those who love you.”
But he if he died this time, he’d save a lot of people. Wouldn’t that be worth the cost? How many people could one person save? Was that what Ciaran wanted him to do? Act in the interest of a greater cause?
The incredible heat crept closer.
He was too young to die, and he knew it.
Michael scrambled up from the ground and grabbed his gun, and cursed himself. Going into a brooding mode in the middle of life and death action wasn’t a good idea.
He looked at the giant fireball rolling toward him and muttered, “Oh shit!”
1
Lyla glared at the giant typo she had made on the computer screen. She glanced around, making sure none of her staff was still lurking around working at this hour. The station was quiet. The ground glass wall was still and calm, opening wide to the outside view of the magnificent Eudaizian landscape.
She was in the Sciphil center, an exclusive area for royals and those in authority. There were no citizens here. No crowds. She liked it that way. If she wanted that kind of atmosphere, she could go down to the districts where billions of beautiful Eudaizians lived. But for now, tranquility was what she needed. It suited her mood.
She returned her attention to the monitor where she was learning to type in English. She really didn’t have to be doing it. Her English was perfect, her Eudaizian was excellent, and she also spoke several languages of different universes. But she liked learning.
This was the age of technology when all she had to do was to press a button and a robot communicated for her in any language. She had helped design the system, and she was proud of it. But she dictated all the time, so when it came to manual typing, she was somewhat clumsy.
She felt the burning sensation in her hands and her fingertips again. It had been happening over the last two weeks. She looked at her hands and found them a bit shaky. It couldn’t be caused by such a simple task as typing, she thought. She shook her head, pushed the thought away, and grabbed a joystick. She planned to do a quick check of the back end of one of her newly developed hologame used for combat training, and then she would call it a day.
She heard the squeaky sound of plastic rubbing on the polished concrete floor behind her and turned around.
“Zin, why in the universe do you look like that?” she exclaimed when she saw her personal robot, one that had a rectangular core metal frame. Zin, at the moment, looked something like a mermaid, a mythical creature she had read about in literature.
“Based on my estimate, there is a fifty percent chance you will be pleased with this outfit.”
“Well, you’ve fallen on the wrong side of the fifty percent. Mermaids aren’t square!”
“That is why I need your help. This plastic costume is thin and needs some padding to create curves.”
“I will not do that for you. Your metal frame is just fine as it is.”
“Lyla, would you prefer me in werewolf form?”
“No.”
“How about a shifting rabbit?”
“Zin, have you been spying in my research files?”
“Observing data I have access to does not constitute spying. You are researching magical Earth creatures. Their paranormal activities. Their supernatural power. Their—”
“I know what I’m researching, Zin. What’s your point?”
“I know you are developing a new program. But I wonder why you left out humans as a major input. Why did you start with the paranormal?”
“I haven’t gotten to the human part yet. That’s the most complicated part.”
“Scientific evidence suggests otherwise. I am speculating that you avoid researching it because your parents were humans.”
She grabbed the joystick. “Hang on.” She gazed at the monitor, which was showing the back end of her program—the engine of the entire robotic system.
“Anything unusual, Lyla? I detected nothing abnormal.”
“I thought I saw something.”
“Please define something.”
“Shut up, Zin.”
“That expression violates the courtesy codes, Lyla.”
“I designed your codes. I can violate them if I wish.” She inched up closer to the screen. She could have sworn she saw a shadow, a dark flying cloud moving across the screen as if a ghost had infiltrated the central computing facilities and physically worked its way into the mechanics of the robotic brain.
She shuddered. She must have been researching the paranormal for too long. She couldn’t scientifically explain a ghost, and even if such entities existed, they didn’t have the tangible form necessary to have an effect on anything—and they certainly couldn’t live in a computer.
She felt the odd sensation in her hands again, and then a sharp pain stabbed in her head. She yelped and let go of the joystick. Maybe it was time to go home for dinner. As soon as the thought of dinner crossed her mind, her stomach let out a small growl and did a somersault.
Good food was her weakness.
“Lyla?”
“I’m heading home, Zin. And the answer is no to any of your costume-related requests.”
“You have a visitor.”
She whirled around, pressing a button on her wrist unit at the same time. On the top of her hand, under the sleeve of her right arm, three laser muzzles emerged. They were small but lethal. She always held out hope she’d never have to use them.
Visitors could not come here without an invitation. No one. Never.
In front of her was a tall, gorgeous, masculine, formidable human lookalike. She was sure he was not Eudaizian because he didn’t have that angelic look. There was something about him that touched her secret craving for human beauty, a craving that was of an even higher priority than her food addiction.
“Don’t shoot. I have a Pass.”
What a voice! she thought. Calm. Easy. Teasing.
He was earthly!
“Show me your Pass, or I’ll shoot. And keep your distance.”
He displayed a shiny rectangular e-pad on which his credentials were printed. Michael Fraser. Citizen of Iilos. Commander in Chief—Border Security. Access granted to all stations in Eudaiz Sciphil Central.
“Your Pass looks old. Who issued it?”
“Old technology was used to issue it, but it’s real. Now can you please stop pointing those weapons at me? It’s not a very good way to show hospitality, unless that’s what your courtesy codes in Eudaiz stat
e. Isn’t that right, Mermaid?”
“You misconstrued my identity. I am not a mermaid. This is just a costume.”
“It was a joke. I know you’re a robot, idiot.”
“Lyla, I detect that his phrase contains humor. I need a humor program installed. Perhaps I can get that instead of the shifting rabbit?”
“Shut up, Zin.” Lyla withdrew her gun.
“How can I help you, Michael?’
“I was sent here from the past in Iilos. Our simulation program forecast that one of your AI programs will create unstoppable creatures that will break through our borders.”
“A simulation? As in a guess?”
“Your sarcasm is noted. I don’t like guessing, either. Especially when I have to bust my ass to time travel on a mechanistic hunch.”
“There is nothing mechanistic or systematic about a hunch. But I do appreciate your effort. In what form was the destructive program detected?”
Michael shrugged. “I’m not a technology geek, but I was told it’s a shadow. Whatever that means.”
2
Cayson pulled out a tray of freshly baked bagels from the oven. He had made them specifically for Lyla, with all the fresh and exotic herbs and spices he could gather from merchant cargo coming from Earth. Earth spices were rare stock, but Lyla could afford it. A girl of her caliber could have whatever she wanted—she was the daughter of Ciaran LeBlanc, king of Eudaiz. Her mother wasn’t queen because they didn’t have such a system in Eudaiz. But she was the first Sciphil—and sometimes Cayson heard she made tougher decisions than her husband.
Well, he supposed that was just rumor because Cayson had never had a chance to meet those who had said it. In addition, Lyla’s identity was top secret in the multiverse. He only knew who she was because he was her best friend, and his father took care of Lyla’s residence.
The fact that the king let his children live with the common citizens so that they could learn respect for them made him love their king even more. He worshiped the Eudaizian monarchy, and if he could do anything to be of service to the royals, he would. There was nothing in this multiverse that would make him reveal Lyla’s identity to anyone.
“Ouch!” he yelped as he accidentally touched the hot surface of the oven. He couldn’t seem to concentrate at all today.
He pulled out his tablet and looked again at a disposable e-message delivered to him that morning via the multiversal express communication system. The shiny surface of his tablet glared up at him.
“Dear Cayson, we regret to inform you that the wedding between you and Fifi will not happen. After giving it much consideration, we have decided that would be best for the future of our daughter. Regards, Liam Anton.”
Cayson shook his head. They wouldn’t take calls from him, so he couldn’t even ask for the true reason behind the decision. Their marriage arrangement hadn’t come easy. They’d had to sustain their inter-universe relationship for months. He had promised to bring Fifi to Eudaiz, and he was going to do so—with or without help from those in authority. He wished there was some way to discuss this with Fifi, but he was on his own.
He grabbed the bagels, put them in a sealed container, and left the kitchen of the large food station he managed.
A short while later, Cayson pressed his palm print on the control panel to verify himself at Lyla’s residence. His father, Ryan, answered the door. He took the container of bagels from Cayson and gestured for him to come inside. This was their weekly routine.
Ryan normally walked straight into the kitchen, but today, he looked at Cayson and frowned. “What’s wrong, son?”
At the station, Lyla sat down on her chair. Michael loved the way her hair softly touched her shoulders and curled into an ocean of magnificent sandy waves. Her eyes were a striking gray with thick lashes that made every blink a dream. He knew her eyes came from her father. But they were not her strongest asset. The brain inside her pretty head was.
If he didn’t have an association with Ciaran, he wouldn’t have known Lyla’s true identity. That wasn’t the reason he was here. He was on a mission with an intention to finish it quickly and then return to Iilos. But judging by the information Lyla had—or didn’t have—there was no quick way of solving the problem. He had an odd feeling that his mission was going to be a long haul.
“I’ll stay here tonight.”
“Here? You mean on the floor?”
“I know how to make do in difficult situations.”
“I’m not concerned about your comfort. I can’t let you stay here by yourself with my equipment.”
“Well, I thought I’d come to tell you about the shadow…and ask you to stop it. You have no idea what it is, but you do believe that there one—”
“I didn’t say I believed you!”
“Your eyes betrayed you. Ever play poker?”
“Is that a hologame?”
“Apparently not.” He chuckled. “So you’d rather I go into the district for shelter?”
“No, you can stay my place.” She smiled. “It’s more comfortable.”
He laughed. “You definitely haven’t played poker before. All right, you want to keep me at bay and run some background checks before you figure out what to do with me. Having me roaming the streets of Eudaiz poses potential security risks.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh, bunny, do I have to tell you again that your eyes betray you?”
“Don’t call me bunny.”
Michael raised his hands in surrender. “Even Mr. Robot here offered you a bunny shapeshifter.”
“My name is Zin, and I think you misinterpreted my intention. I offered a rabbit shifter. Rabbits and bunnies are the same kind of animals, but the words have different semantics.”
“How long have you been here?” Lyla asked.
“I just got here. And you were quite loud.”
“That’s not possible. What I said was spoken before you came in.”
“I said you were loud. The conversion echoed out into the corridor.”
She stopped talking. Michael could see the horror in her eyes. He knew why she had stopped talking. She thought she had been heard. And because she lacked a poker face, she couldn’t pretend nothing had happened.
“Okay, sorry. I planted a bug. It recorded everything, and I heard your conversation.” He grinned and mimed “don’t talk” to her. She nodded.
“I’ll take your offer and stay at your residence tonight. Let’s go,” said Michael
He approached, sliding his arm around her waist. It surprised him that she took the guide from his arm without objection. She was smart enough to know what was best for them in the current situation. As they walked out of the room, Zin scurried after them with difficulty because of the mermaid tail that dragged on the floor behind him. “I’m confused,” Zin said.
Michael made a note to himself to tell Lyla that the robot might need a brain upgrade.
3
In front of a residential house that looked three times grander than the presidential condo in his Iilos district, Michael tugged at Lyla’s elbow. “Okay, I guess this is your house. Do you feel safe enough to talk to me here?”
Silence.
“Come on, I wouldn’t have access to your real identity if I weren't trustworthy.” He knew she was still shaking because of the incident in her control station, but silence was never his best friend, so he had to push.
“It’s not you.”
“That’s it?”
“We’ve been listened to.”
“Yes, I gathered that much. We were bugged. But I thought that was common in your intelligence business.”
“We bug people. Not the other way around, and not in my control center.”
“You can’t say there’s zero possibility that you are ever spied on.”
She turned and looked into his eyes. “The possibility of us being listened to by an adversary is zero. We can’t afford anything other than that. We have a traitor.”
“Right i
n your backyard?”
“No, right in our brain. I saw a shadow just before you came.”
The door of the house slid open, and a calm and collected man stood there, smiling at them. Michael had known what a butler was since the day he was on Earth, but even then, he’d only seen them in movies.
“Lyla,” the man said and smiled. “And this is your guest, Michael. Welcome.”
“Yes, Ryan, this is Michael.” Lyla gave him her coat. “Thank you,” she said absently and walked into the grand hall.
Ryan caught the look on her face and turned to look at Michael. Michael shrugged. “Tough day at the office,” he said and then followed Lyla inside.
A man stepped out from the darkness of a hallway. Lyla turned. “Cayson, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“It’s bagels night, Lyla.”
“Oh, that’s right. Thanks. Sorry, I totally forgot. This is Michael.”
Ryan approached. “Dinner is ready, Lyla.”
“Actually, I won’t be staying for dinner tonight, Lyla,” Cayson said. “I’ve got to go. Nice to meet you, Michael.” He scurried toward the door.
“You’re not doing anything silly, are you, Cayson?” Ryan asked.
“No, Dad,” he said and kept walking.
“What’s up, Ryan?” Lyla asked.
“Fifi’s parents rejected the wedding this morning,” he said.
“Cayson, talk to me! Don’t walk away!” Lyla commanded.
“It’s my problem, Lyla. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You didn’t come here tonight just to bring me bagels, Cayson. What do you intend to do?” she asked.
Cayson waved his hand absently. “Forget about it. I’ve changed my mind.”
“You’re not going to Xiilok by yourself. You still have a contract hanging over your head. If they get you again, they won’t just break your leg this time.”
“They won’t take my calls. We were so close to getting married. Aren’t we entitled to at least a conversation?”
