Raven's Ascent

by Ben Blackwell

  Raven’s Ascent

  Trials of Darkhaven Book 1

  Ben Blackwell

  Copyright © 2020 Ben Blackwell

  Table of Content

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Raven’s Ascent

  Hey, thank you so much for reading Raven’s Ascent! This is my debut Urban Fantasy novel, and the beginning of the world of Darkhaven.

  I won’t hold you up for long, but I wanted to let you know that you can sign up for the waiting list for new books and get updates, review copies, and occasionally, free books!

  Also, I have a free prequel novella that you can get:

  https://benblackwellbooks.com/get/prequel

  I hope you enjoy!

  - Ben

  Get advanced review copies and updates for the main series, Trials of Darkhaven:

  https://benblackwellbooks.com/sign-up-for-more-trials-of-darkhaven/

  1

  My fingers tapped nervously on the dusty brick wall. I pressed against it with my back, peeking around the corner. Five men, all clad in black hoodies, had just got in the car that was now driving away. But none of them was my target.

  I peeled myself out of the dark alley I was hiding in, glancing up and down the street quickly. The sun had set already, and there were only few people out on the streets. If there was one thing I had learned on the streets, it was that nothing looks more conspicuous than someone nervously checking their environment with every move. So I straightened up and walked confidently across the street, straight toward the dirty metal door that led into the building across from me.

  Big warning signs decorated the door, but since the owners of this little hideout had just left, who could stop me?

  To my surprise, the door wasn’t even locked. This job would be easier than expected. Now all I had to do was find their treasury, grab the magical flute, and get the hell out. So far, I wasn’t impressed with this gang’s level of professionalism.

  After stepping through the door, I ended up in a small room, maybe six feet wide and ten feet long, with a single door on the other side. The room was empty except for a small desk and a chair that looked like they were placed there for someone standing guard or welcoming associates, but they were now vacated with the gang on the move.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I focused my senses. There were cars driving outside. Chatter further up in the building. But no sounds were coming from the hideout. It was deserted, an easy target. I couldn’t smell any magic, yet, either. It would have surprised me if I had—this was a gang of small-time gangster, after all.

  A hint of a smile appeared on my face as I walked through the door. This would be an easy job.

  The inside of the gang’s hideout looked very fitting for this neighborhood: a vacant apartment that some street gang had made their home, without ever cleaning or decorating. There were chairs, crates, some rooms even had storage racks filled with everything from improvised weapons to cans of food.

  But so far, no sign of stolen goods. At least nothing remotely pricey. Either they never went after anything more expensive than a phone, or they had already sold their spoils.

  My cheerfulness slowly turned to anger as I wondered if my intel was bad. I hated being sent on a wild goose chase. At the end of the hallway, one set of double doors patiently awaited me. I had checked every other room in this hallway, all small-ish and empty.

  I slinked toward the doors. Light fell through the milky glass panes on the upper half of the wooden doors. This had to be a bigger room, maybe the living room. When I stopped in front of the doors to listen, my nose picked up a faint smell of flowers. Like lavender, but spicier. Magic. It could have been a room freshener, but those didn’t tickle in my nose like this. No, definitely magic.

  I pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

  “Bingo,” I whispered, a big smile on my face.

  There were crates and boxes filled with loot from recent robberies, and rows of open storage racks on the other wall, filled with what I could only describe as random trash. From the looks of it, they had been raiding yard sales, picking up anything from cheap jewelry to remote-controlled toy cars.

  I had only taken two steps into the room before a sudden voice interrupted me.

  “Hey! How did you get in here?!”

  I spun around in surprise, my eyes scanning the room in the direction the voice had come from. Between the racks, I now noticed a figure sitting on a chair, looking at me with surprise and anger.

  With a few steps I closed in, intending to knock him out before he could alarm anyone. He looked like he just woke up, his eyes still blinking the sleep away frantically. As he got up, he dropped the clipboard and pen he had been holding.

  “Stop right there, miss!” he shouted at me as I came within a few steps of him.

  But I was still out of range with my fists when he suddenly pulled a gun, aiming it square at my face.

  Shit.

  His hand was shaking, but there was no hesitation in his eyes. His finger was curled around the trigger, slowly pulling back.

  I had to act fast. I dive-rolled forward, dodging the first shot. My ears rang from the sudden boom, but I did not let that stop me. When I looked up, I was still about three steps from him. And he still had his gun aimed right at me.

  But before he could release a second bullet, one I couldn’t dodge in time, I drew a handful of magic in, sent it through my outstretched arm, and unleashed it from my hand.

  A moment later, my magic blast hit the thug like a sledgehammer. The invisible force hit him right in the chest. He crashed into the wall behind him before collapsing a moment later. The gun clattered down to the floor next to him, his body limp like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

  "Shitshitshit," I cursed as I checked his pulse. He was still alive, which was good because I didn't want to kill anybody. But it was also bad because they couldn’t know I had broken in. And they definitely couldn't know about my magic. Or that it even existed outside of fantasy books at all.

  I stood there, frozen, bent over his collapsed body. Maybe he wouldn’t exactly remember what happened. Maybe he would, and no one believed him. Maybe he wouldn’t remember my face… but he could. And if he did, I would have a serious problem. The kind that I couldn’t risk.

  “Damn it,” I cursed again as I pulled my dagger, and after a moment of hesitation,I slit his throat.

  This job was not going as well as I had planned. After looking at the dead man for another second, I sighed and started searching the room for the flute. It wasn’t highly magical, but the faint smell of flowers was still helpful, and I found it within a minute, buried in a pile of toys and odd trinkets.

  There it was, an ivory flute with ornaments all over, mythical creatures carved into the wood with exceptional skill.

  “Got ya!” I whispered with a smile on my face. I put the flute into a small bag I brought and quickly made my way out of the hideout. As I closed the door behind me, I let out a sigh of relief. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as planned, but I was still alive. It could have gone very differently.

  I let this fateful minute play in my head over and over on the way
back to the bar, trying to figure out where I went wrong, what I’d have to do differently the next time. If there was one thing that had kept me alive until now, it was constantly learning from every mistake, and making sure I never made the same one twice.

  A brief ride on the subway and a few minutes of walking through the cool night later, I entered the Blind Eye. The doorman nodded at me, and I nodded back. I had been here often enough to know everyone that worked here. Not very well, though.I preferred to keep to myself, not get too close to people. That only leads to disappointment and betrayal. No, the only person I’d ever trust is myself. This had served me well as I grew up in the deadly streets of Darkhaven, and it served me just as well now.

  As I walked toward the bar, I could smell the faint smell of burgers, fries, beer, and a hint of magic. Today, it smelled like a forest—a bit earthy, with a hint of lavender. One look around, and I spotted a shaman in a corner, talking to a woman, maybe a witch. It was only magicals who smelled. Magicals, as in witches, shamans, and elementalists. Vampires and werewolves barely smelled like magic. Probably because they weren’t magical. Just… different.

  Not everyone could feel magic, and those who could did so in their own way. For me, it was smell. Distinct smells for different kinds of magic and magic users. Witches and their spells were usually flowery, shamans more like earth or rain. Elementalists were all over the board, but the smells were usually tied to the elements they specialized in.

  As I sat down at my usual spot by the bar, Big J came over right away. “The usual, R?” he asked quietly.

  He knew I didn’t want people to know my name—as a mercenary, anonymity was my best protection. Especially with a name like Raven. There was probably not a single other Raven in this city, which would make it easy to find me.

  “Sure,” I replied with a grateful nod. There was nothing like a cold beer after a job well done. Well, a job completed. ‘Well done’ was not exactly how I would describe this job.

  Just as I was enjoying the first sip of my cold beer, a youthful man sat down next to me. Though I only saw him out of the corner of my eye, I recognized him as the guy who I stole the flute for. He stuck out like a sore thumb, uncomfortably looking around at every loud noise.

  “Did you get it? Could you get the flute back?” he blurted out.

  “I got it. But there were… complications,” I answered calmly. “You said that they were all going on a big job tonight. But they left someone behind.”

  “But you took care of that scum, didn’t you?” His expression was full of disdain as he looked at me expectantly.

  “I took care of it, but I’m not a hitman. It’ll cost you extra,” I demanded. “The fee is now eight hundred.” I took a long sip from a beer before looking at him again.

  The man stared at me with narrow eyes, but he eventually let out a sigh. “I guess that’s fair. And it’s worth getting my heirloom back.”

  “Good.” I took another sip of my beer.

  “So… How does this work? You take credit card?” The guy asked uneasily. It was obvious he never hired someone before.

  I laughed dryly. “No, stupid. Or do you want to have a payment for a supernatural robbery on your bank statements?” I replied, shaking my head. “No names, no bank transactions. Preferably no contact over a phone. Otherwise, you will leave a trace.”

  "Oh, okay. I'll just hit the ATM and be back in a minute. You should think about accepting bitcoin or something then, at least."

  He looked at me expectantly for a few seconds, but I just stared back expressionless. “Cash only.”

  He shrugged and left the bar, hopefully to be back in a few minutes with my cash.

  “Bitcoin, hah. What do I look like, a nerd?” I muttered to myself and scoffed.

  I took another sip of my beer before looking around the bar. It was about 10 PM, but there were already quite a few guests in the bar. To an outsider, it would have seemed like a perfectly normal establishment, a bar like any other.

  Like the group of people sitting in the back, drinking beer and laughing. When you looked at them, you might think they were office workers getting drunk after a long day of work. Jeans, T-shirts or shirts, and anything from sneakers to dress shoes. But if you looked closely and knew what to look for, you would notice some unusually quick movements, the unique way their eyes scanned the place regularly, the way they focused every time there was a loud noise or sudden movement. Off-duty vampire guards. But not the elite guard, the Crimson Fangs. Those were way more arrogant and assertive than these guys. No, these were common vamps.

  In one corner, two people sat across each other, a man and a woman. Could be two friends catching up, could be a date. Could happen at any other bar. Except that she was healing his pet lizard with a spell. Or maybe enchanting it. Possibly even sacrificing it. You never knew exactly what a spell was doing from looking at it.

  “Eight hundred bucks, in cash.”

  I snapped out of my thoughts and turned around, to see the guy standing behind me with a bundle of banknotes in his hand.

  “Do you really think it’s a smart idea to sneak up on me like that?” I hissed at him as I grabbed the money out of his hands. “Here’s your flute,” I continued more camly and handed him the bag.

  He pulled it out and inspected for a second. “Yep, that’s it. Thank you so much!”

  I nodded, turned around, and returned my attention to the beer in front of me. Another job completed, and I was 800 dollars closer to my goal. I had moved into my first apartment two years ago, and had barely been able to make ends meet back then. Not a lot of paying gigs had come my way. Then, over time, I had begun making a little more—enough to afford new-ish furniture and appliance. Like a new fridge that didn’t randomly turn off every couple days. Now that my apartment was all furnished, I was starting to build up a rainy-day fund. You never knew when things would go south, when one bad day would turn your life upside down.

  I was getting close to my goal of having ten grand as backup. With the $800 from this job, only $3100 more to go. A couple more jobs, and I would have my fund complete.

  A slight smile appeared on my face as I realized that I was two-thirds there already. Then I thought of what happened after that, and the smile froze on my face. I had no idea.

  I had been struggling for survival for as long as I could remember. Even in the apartment, I had furniture to buy, get a proper kitchen, upgrade from an old mattress to a real bed. The fund made sense, but it was also a way to escape, or at least delay, the inevitable dread. The fundamental, existential problem.

  What the hell do I do with my life once survival isn’t a daily struggle anymore?

  My jaw clenched with frustration, then I forced it open again and took a long sip from my beer. I promised myself I wouldn’t think about it until I reached my goal, so I pushed the depressing thoughts away. Immediately, my mind wandered to the scene in the hideout.

  It replayed in my head again and again, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I had killed before, plenty of times even. To defend myself, to defend others, sometimes even on shady gigs. And even though I tried telling myself that it had been self-defense, this one didn’t feel right. I had done what was necessary to survive, but killing an unconscious guy still wasn’t who I wantedto be.

  Tonight, I had been cocky, not careful enough. I’d trusted some random guy’s intel instead of trusting my own instincts. I had to do better next time.

  With a quick hand signal, I ordered another beer. Big J came over to me a moment later, looking at me with concern in his eyes.

  “By the way, the crazy one came looking for you again today,” he said sternly. “She had your name.”

  “The vampire?”

  “Yeah. You’re gonna have to deal with her eventually, Raven,” he added.

  I sighed. “I don’t know how. She wouldn’t believe me, even if I could tell her the truth. I’m pretty sure she won’t stop until I’m dead.”

  “So what are you going to d
o?”

  I looked up at Big J and shrugged. “Don’t know yet. For now, I just need another beer.”

  “Sure thing,” he said with a nod and walked away with my glass for a refill.

  That was one problem I couldn’t deal with right now. But he was right. I had to do something. But for now, I had earned myself some drinks.

  Other than my apartment, the Blind Eye was probably the only place that ever felt like home, and Big J was one of the reasons why. I didn’t know his story. Almost no one did. All I knew was that he was about fifty years old and a supernatural—but I had never seen him using any powers. From what I’d heard, this bar was his way of retiring. But no matter what he was, he was always there for everyone and didn’t discriminate. The bar was like a supernatural Switzerland. A place where you could have a drink in peace. Where no one dared bother you, no matter where you came from.

  As Big J put down my beer in front of me, I gave him another thankful nod.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I join you,” a voice suddenly came from my right.

  I turned to the side and watched as someone sat down next to me. He signaled Big J for a beer, then turned to me.

  His warm smile was a little too friendly for my taste. Pretty eyes, pretty hair, only slightly older than me, twenty-five maybe. His eyes looked at me with hope.

  “Please tell me you’re not here to hit on me,” I sighed and rolled my eyes. I had zero interest in flirting with some guy, especially after the shitshow that had just gone down.

  I didn’t put a ton of effort into my looks. I was getting paid for my skills, after all, but as a lady with a fit body, tight combat-ready clothes, I got more attention from guys than I liked.

  “On the contrary, I have come to offer you a job.” He chuckled. “You see, I’m in need of a bodyguard, but not the big brawny type. We need someone to stay back, someone an attacker won’t even notice until it’s too late. I heard you’d be the right choice, miss.”