Blood Magic

by N. P. Martin

  Still, I hadn’t expected Iolas to be on me so soon. He had all but banished me from the city when I had accused him of orchestrating my mother’s murder. He was no doubt pissed when he heard I was coming back.

  Fuck him, I thought as I neared my destination. If he thinks I’m going to allow him to get away with murder, he’s mistaken.

  Just ahead of me was Chance’s Bookstore, the shop my mother opened over three decades ago, and which now belonged to me, along with the apartment above it. It was a medium-sized store with dark green wood paneling and a quaint sort of feel to it. It was also one of the oldest remaining independent book stores in the city, and the only one that dealt in rare occult books. Because of this, the store attracted a lot of Untouched with an interest in all things occult and magical. It also attracted its fair share of Touched, who knew the store as the place to go if you wanted to get a hard-to-find book on magic or some aspect of the occult. My mother, before she was killed, had managed to form contacts all over the world, and there was hardly a book she wasn’t able to get her hands on if someone requested it—for a price of course—and that price was often high, not just in terms of money, but in favors owed.

  As I stood a moment in front of the shop, my mind awash with painful memories, I glanced at my reflection in the window, seeing a disheveled imposter standing there in need of a shave and a haircut and probably also a change of clothes, my favorite dark jeans and waistcoat having hardly been off me in two months.

  Looking away from my reflection, I opened the door to the shop and stepped inside, locking it behind me again. The smell of old paper and leather surrounded me immediately, soliciting more painful memories and a sense of deep sorrow as images of my mother flashed through my mind. After closing my eyes for a second, I moved into the shop, every square inch of the place deeply familiar to me, connected to memories that threatened to come at me all at once.

  Until they were interrupted, that is, by a mass of swirling darkness near the back of the shop, out of which an equally dark figure emerged with two slightly glowing eyes glaring at me.

  Then, before I could muster any magic or even say a word of surprise, the darkness surrounding the figure lashed out, hitting me so hard across the face I thought my jaw was broken, and I went reeling back, cursing the gods for clearly having it in for me today.

  Welcome home, Corvin, I thought as I stood seeing stars. Welcome bloody home…

  Nephilim Rising Series

  Nephilim Rising is my first urban fantasy series. There are a total of six books in the series, which tells of Leia and her struggles against demons and her troubled past. These struggles take her all the way to Hell, in which two of the books are set. If you’ve ever wondered what Hell might be like, these books will give you some idea. It’s a fun but brutal adventure series packed with action, humor and a little bit of romance. Below you can read a sample chapter from the first book, Hunter’s Legacy.

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  For a few seconds, I stood frozen to the spot, staring at Frank as he fired off two more rounds, each shot making me flinch. Then Frank turned and yelled, "Get to the bedroom and stay there! GO NOW!"

  My mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, opening and closing without any words coming out. Then I heard a sound that was halfway between a screech and a snarl, sounding like it came from the mouth of some foul creature. What the hell kind of demon made a sound like that?

  Whatever it was, Frank started advancing down the stairs toward it, rapidly firing shot after shot as he did so, filling the landing with clouds of smoke. My heart was hammering so hard in my chest, I thought it was going to burst. There was so much fear-fueled adrenaline bursting at the seams of my system, that I hadn't even the first clue as to how to handle it.

  My mind obviously did, though, as I found myself backing away into the closest bedroom, which happened to be Diane’s.

  Downstairs, I heard a roar coming from Frank that chilled me almost as much as the sound of the demon he seemed to still be fighting with.

  In the bedroom, I stood by the dressing table, catching sight of myself in the mirror. My face was covered in sweat, and I was white as a sheet. I couldn’t look any more terrified if I’d tried. At least in the alley that night with Kasey, it looked like a man standing in front of me, despite the demon inside, which made the situation easier to deal with. Now, though, I was trapped in the house with demons who sounded like real monsters, and probably fucking looked like monsters as well.

  Downstairs, the sounds of struggle between Frank and the demon increased. As Frank had stopped shooting, I assumed he was now going hand to hand with whatever demon was attacking him.

  You have to help him.

  I don’t know where the thought came from. It was like someone put it there. I looked at my face in the mirror again, and said to myself, "You can do this. You were born to do this."

  Somehow, just saying those words helped me cut through my fear, allowing my power—my grace—to spread throughout my body, until it felt like my every nerve ending contained a tiny electric current that combined to create one hell of a jolt.

  A calmness washed over me, followed by a Zen-like state that made my fears seem like a distant memory. Suddenly, the whole room came into focus, and I became intensely aware of every detail, every micro movement, every sound. This awareness fanned out as far as downstairs, where Frank was still fighting the demon. Frank’s breath was heavy, and I could almost sense his movements just by the way he was breathing. Same for the demon trying to kill him. I could sense it’s total malevolence.

  Hang on, Frank…

  I went to rush out of the room so I could help Frank, and hopefully not die in the process (which strangely wasn’t a primary concern at that moment), when a loud crashing sound from behind me caused me to spin around.

  Something had just jumped through the bedroom window, landing near the bed, surrounded by broken glass. At first glance, I thought the creature looked human, as it remained crouched, its head down. But then I noticed the pitch black skin that seemed as thick as leather, and the long pointed ears jutting out of its bullet-shaped head.

  When the creature slowly stood to its full height, I got a proper measure of it. There was no doubt it was a demon, but it was unlike any I’d ever seen before. So far, all I had seen were faces, as monstrous as some of them were. The demon in front of me, though, was the full package. It stood over six feet tall, and was densely muscled. It’s basic anatomy appeared to be human, except for the lack of genitals, and the strange spikes that covered most of its body. The demon’s face was also vaguely human, although its eyes were huge and black, and its mouth was filled with shiny, pointed teeth that were as obsidian black as the rest of it.

  The demon suddenly dropped down to all fours and roared at me, making a sound so awful it hurt my ears and chilled my blood. The rest of the world seemed to disappear at that point, until it felt like there was just me and the demon, facing each other in some kind of void that only one of us could walk away from. I knew there would be no use in running. The second I turned my back, that fucking thing would be on me. The only choice I had was to stand and fight. The grace flowing through me was the only thing keeping me from turning tail…or falling to pieces in the face of such a terrible threat.

  I had no idea what I was doing as the demon suddenly leaped toward me like a wild animal, and yet I was still able to instinctively jump aside to avoid the attack. I then lashed out unthinkingly, swinging my fist at the demon’s head just as it landed. When my knuckles made contact with the demon’s thick skull, I heard a cracking sound, and then a burst of pain shot up my arm. If it wasn’t for the massive amount of adrenaline pumping through me, I might’ve been incapacitated by the pain. As it was, I just shouted, "Fuck!"

  The demon turned to face me, its ugly mouth seeming to smile at me.

  This fucker is going to kill me.

  Under other circumstances, such a thought might’ve been enough to render me incapacitated
with fear.

  But not now.

  Now I had genetics on my side. Now I had the certain knowledge that I was meant to be a soldier, someone who kept the monsters of the world at bay.

  I had all the confidence at that point, but unfortunately none of the skill.

  Perhaps prematurely, I went on the attack, and tried to strike the demon again, this time doing my best to load the strike with grace. I did manage to hit the demon on the jaw with my undamaged hand, but I didn’t manage to channel much power into the punch. Worse, I lost my balance after landing the punch, and practically fell into the demon’s waiting arms.

  The demon lifted me and slammed me down hard onto the floor. Then it straddled my waist, it’s weight making sure I couldn’t move. After slapping me twice in the face with barbed-skinned hands, the demon grabbed my wrists, causing the pain in my injured hand to flare terribly again. It then leaned over me as it kept me pinned to the floor, its snarling face only inches from my own. Thick saliva dripped from the demon’s sharp teeth, causing me to squirm uncontrollably as it landed on my face.

  Its black eyes portrayed nothing but cold malevolence.

  As strong as I was with my grace flowing through me (to some extent anyhow), the demon was stronger, and easily resisted my attempts to get out from under it. Panic wasn’t far behind as I realized I was trapped, and probably about to die.

  The demon opened its mouth wider, until it seemed like a gaping chasm getting ever closer to my face, about to engulf me. Turning my face to one side, I couldn’t help but close my eyes.

  This is it, it’s all over…

  But a second later, I felt the creature tense on top of me. I opened my eyes, and was faced with what appeared to be the tip of a knife no more than an inch from my face. The knife was sticking out of the demon’s mouth, a silent scream frozen continuously upon its face. Its eyes were wide open, registering its shock. Then I noticed the hand that was gripping the demon’s head, pushing it sideways as the knife was retracted, causing the demon to fall off me at last.

  "Frank?" I said in equal parts shock and relief.

  "I suggest you move," he said, just as the floor beneath started to get hot. I quickly got to my feet and looked down to see something like searing hot energy forming around the demon on the floor. Within seconds, the demon’s body had fallen from sight into the now gaping hole in the floor, a hole which seemed close up as quickly as it had formed, leaving nothing but a large black scorch mark behind.

  "What the fuck?" I said, wondering how much more craziness my mind could take in one day. "What just happened?"

  Frank looked at me like he’d seen it all a thousand times. "A portal to Hell just opened up, and the demon fell into it. Can we go now, please, before more of these bastards show up, if they haven’t already?"

  I nodded. "I’m fine, Frank, thanks for asking."

  Frank wiped the blade of his large knife on his jeans, then slid the knife into a sheath inside his jacket. 'Let’s go."

  Shaking my head, I followed behind him as he led us down the stairs. "Were they demons?" I asked as I stepped around a large scorch mark in the hallway, the remnants of the demon Frank had been fighting with.

  "Lower demons, yeah," Frank said as we went through the front door. "Like attack dogs. They’re called Pit Demons."

  Attack dogs. Seemed like a good comparison to me. "Who controls them, though?"

  Frank stopped suddenly as he neared his car, and whipped his gun out, aiming it down the street. "I’d say that guy there."

  When I looked, I saw the rotund figure of a man about thirty yards away, standing in the middle of the street. At first glance, the man seemed normal enough, dressed as he was in a dark suit. But then that weird flickering thing happened, and the man suddenly became something much more demonic. He resembled a huge toad that stood on two legs, with the biggest mouth I’d ever seen. "Jesus Christ," I breathed.

  "Go!" Frank shouted as he started firing shots at the advancing demon, none of which appeared to effect it much. "Take the Mustang and meet me on Clear Mountain Road."

  "What? What about you?"

  "It’s you they want." Frank fired another burst of bullets. "Go now!"

  I glanced once more at the demon in the street. It’s blubbery body was oozing dark blood from Frank’s bullet wounds, but it still kept advancing at an unhurried pace, as if it knew Frank couldn’t hurt it.

  I hope you know what you’re doing, Frank.

  As if to prove that he did, Frank shot down a Pit Demon that had been hiding in the bushes of Diane’s house along with a number of others, their eyes glaring through the brush as they awaited unspoken instructions from the bigger demon. After shooting the first one, Frank pumped several bullets into the next Pit Demon to show itself. The rest stayed in hiding after that.

  Turning, I ran to the Mustang and got in. As Frank continued to shoot at the demon, I frantically searched my jacket for the keys. When I finally found them, I started the ignition, then looked in the rearview mirror to see Frank reloading his gun, and the demon much closer to him than I would’ve liked. Once again, I hoped he knew what he was doing, though I was nonetheless in awe as I watched his fighting form in the Mustang's rearview mirror whilst still pulling away from the curb. He pivoted and turned, shot left and right, high and low, his body seeming to follow his head with the slightest of gaps, time enough to shoot and eventually reload; his ready mag clicking in at astonishing pace, his free hand whilst still free, stabbing and slicing with commensurate speed as he took on the demon. It was hard not to be impressed by such a show of fearless skill.

  I drove off up the street, gunning the Mustang much too fast through the narrow city streets, on my way to the location Frank had given me. I was jacked up on so much adrenaline, I couldn’t even hold a thought. The only thing I was focused on was getting to Clear Mountain Road, just outside the city.

  By the time I got there, I realized I couldn’t remember barely any of the journey. The first rest stop I saw, I pulled in and cut the engine. Silence then enveloped me in its claustrophobic grip. For long moments, I just sat there, staring out the window into the dark, completely numbed by everything that had happened.

  Then I thought of Josh and Diane, and I started to shake uncontrollably. As soon as I said Josh’s name out loud, I broke down completely and slumped against the steering wheel, where I stayed crying for a very long time.

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  The Nephilim Rising Series is available from all good book stores.

  Books By N. P. Martin

  The Corvin Chance Chronicles

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  SERPENT SON

  DEATH’S HAND

  DEADLANDS (DEC 2018)

  BLACK FAITH (JAN 2019)

  DARK SHADOWS (FEB 2019)

  BOOK 6 (MAR 2019)

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  The Wizard’s Creed Series

  * * *

  CRIMSON CROW

  BLOOD MAGIC

  BLOOD DEBT

  BLOOD CULT

  BLOOD DEMON

  * * *

  The Nephilim Rising Series

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  HUNTER’S LEGACY

  DEMON’S LEGACY

  HELL’S LEGACY

  DEVIL’S LEGACY

  BAD GRACE

  LUCAS

  About The Author

  I’m N. P. Martin and I’m a lover of dark fantasy and horror. Writing stories about magic, the occult, monsters and kickass characters has always been my idea of a dream job, and these days, I get to live that dream. I have tried many things in my life (professional martial arts instructor, bouncer, plasterer, salesman…to name a few), but only the writing hat seems to fit. When I’m not writing, I’m spending time with my wife and daughters at our home in Northern Ireland.

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