by N M Thorn
Cole loved his maker, and Damian was positive he was loyal to Ruslan through and through. That made the situation a lot more dangerous and unpredictable. With his brother’s bravery that bordered on recklessness, he would do anything to save his maker.
“Dima—,” Cole started, but Damian frowned, shaking his head, and Cole fell silent.
“Zabava believes that all the leads she has on the missing witches’ case are pointing toward the underground supernatural fighting circles,” he said. “So, if Ricardo can get me in, I can kill two birds with one stone. I’ll do my investigation, and I’ll find your maker. But I have to be extremely careful. As you’re well aware, underground pits are not a safe place to be for anyone with magic.”
“Jesus…” River whispered, her face turning ghostly white. “We have supernatural underground fighting pits in Arizona? Are you serious?”
“We have them all over the country,” replied Damian. “Every state has its own Fighting House, each owned by a different supernatural asshole who makes their millions on the slave trade and suffering of others.” As River’s eyes darkened, and she took a step forward, Damian shook his head warningly. “River, you must stay out of it. Human authorities can’t get involved in this. It’s enough that the FBI is monitoring them, putting all of us in danger. I can’t have Arizona police get involved. That would lead to hundreds of human casualties and the exposure of the World of Magic. No matter what you hear during this investigation or how angry it will make you, you must stand down and let me do my job.”
“Fine,” she said, pulling a chair out, her moves sharp and angry. “I understand. You are the supernatural cop, so anything that starts with the word supernatural is not my jurisdiction. It’s yours.”
“That’s right,” replied Damian, turning to Jamie, and the wizard shrunk under his heavy gaze, his shoulders hunched as if he knew what Damian was about to say. “Jamie, I’m sorry, my friend, but you’re going to hate what I’m about to tell you.”
“Go on.” Jamie waved his hand weakly, averting his gaze. “I already know. I’m too inexperienced as a wizard, and I’m nothing but a liability in a combat situation.” He raised his eyes at Damian. “You are right. When it comes to combat magic, I’m good for nothing. I don’t even know where my sword is. I think I lost it yesterday.”
Damian chuckled, tilting his head a little as he gazed at his pupil with warmth. “No, Jamie,” he said. “That wasn’t what I was going to say. As a matter of fact, it’s the opposite. Yesterday, you handled the situation perfectly well. You saved me from the lion. Come on, Jamie, give yourself credit. And as far as your sword, I was the one who lost it after we left the house. I believe I dropped it somewhere in the front yard of the house across the road when Zabava and I were hiding there.”
He caught River’s scorching gaze and raised his hands in a placating manner. She frowned, pursing her lips. “I definitely want to meet this Zabava and have a word with her.”
Damian threw a pleading gaze at his brother, but since Cole just grinned at him without coming to the rescue, he raked his fingers through his hair on the front to cover the left side of his face and switched his attention back to Jamie.
“Anyway, Jamie,” he continued, “I was going to tell you that until I get to the bottom of this and find whoever is abducting the witches, you’re not safe. I need you to call your boss at the library and take a two-week vacation. Since I don’t think you’re safe in your own house, I’ll give you a choice. You can stay here, in Paradise Manor. You can go to Hawk’s ranch if the pack master doesn’t mind you hanging around there. Or you can stay with Yakov and the Wardens and help them with the research they’re doing to find Koschei the Deathless.”
“Damian,” started Jamie, “but why? I’m not a witch.”
“Semantics,” Damian muttered. “You’re a wizard, and I don’t think these assholes care about your gender. They are after your magical energy. I wish it were different because I would like to have you by my side, but I do believe you’re in danger, my friend. So, tell me what you want to do, and I’ll open a portal for you.”
Jamie bowed his head, a vibe of helplessness hovering over him. “The Wardens,” he said at length. “At least, I’ll still be useful while working with Yakov.”
Damian got up and channeled his magic. With a light wave of his hand, he opened a portal, gesturing for the young wizard to go. Jamie got up and headed toward the rotating vortex, his shoulders slumped. Damian watched him step through it, disappearing on the other side, and dread surged through him, squeezing his heart in its iron grip, whispering that losing Jamie as a fighter was just the beginning.
He sat down heavily and hid his face in his hands. Feeling a light touch to his shoulder, he raised his head to find his brother standing next to him.
“You did the right thing, Dima,” he said. “Jamie is the most vulnerable among us.”
Damian chuckled bitterly. “I know. But it doesn’t make me feel any better.” He patted the empty chair next to him. “Sit down, brother. We need to have a word.”
Cole lowered himself on the chair, his blue eyes widening. “Don’t tell me... You want me under the Warden’s protection, too?”
“No. I don’t believe you’re in more danger than you were yesterday,” replied Damian. “But if Ricardo set up a meeting with the Head of the Arizona House, I don’t want you to go with me.”
“Why?” asked Cole, iron tones ringing in his voice. “Because I’m an ancient vamp with sword skills? I understand it makes me a priceless commodity as a captive fighter, but I’m not planning to sell myself into slavery any time soon.”
“No, that is not the reason,” Damian objected quietly. “But it does add to my resolve to keep you away from the fighting circles.” He averted his gaze, staring at his clenched hands. “You are emotionally involved, Cole. Supposedly, the Head of the Arizona House holds your maker imprisoned. When it comes to Ruslan, your judgment is compromised, and I can’t take a chance of you doing something…” His voice trailed off, and he exhaled, searching for a better word.
“Stupid? Reckless?” Cole supplied snidely, but his voice trembled with defiance.
Damian looked at his brother, reading in his eyes just how pointless his attempt to keep him safe was. “Cole…” he started, but then cut himself off and added in a firmer voice, “Both of the above. You are not coming with me. Period.”
“No.” Cole got up and bent down slightly, bracing his fists against the table. “You’re right. I love my maker, and I’m willing to give my life for him just the way he would do for me. But you’re forgetting I’m not human, Dmitri. I know how to keep my emotions under control. So, this conversation is over. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not. Besides, I would never let you go into the lion’s den alone. You hear me?” He slammed his fist against the table, and deep fractures ran across its polished surface in all directions. “This fucking conversation was over before it started, and you know it!”
Cole turned to River and inclined his head in a traditional bow, his moves unusually jerky. “My apologies, my lady,” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “I’ll buy a new table for you tomorrow.”
Damian got up sharply, sending the chair flying back. His blazing eyes met Cole’s, and he slammed his hand against the table, too, adding a few more fractures to the already wide web. The floor shook, and the dishes in the cabinets responded with a soft jingle.
“Sit down,” he growled through clenched teeth, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “I’m not done talking to you.” Cole turned to him, and his lips parted. “I said sit your ass down! Now!”
River jumped to her feet and stepped between them, holding her arms up. “Both of you sit down and shut the hell up,” she yelled. “And if you need to go and take a cold shower then do it, because right now, your anger is cooking your antique brains.” She threw her hands in the air, a cloud of desperation rising over her. “Don’t you see? You’re both trying to protect each ot
her, but instead of figuring out the best way to approach the situation, you’re at each other’s throats.”
Damian took a deep breath and bent down, picking up his chair, his anger simmering down. He sat down and watched Cole lower himself on the chair next to him, the scarlet glow vanishing from his eyes.
“River, thank you,” he said as evenly as he could muster. “We need to figure out the best way to approach this dangerous situation.” He tapped his brother’s shoulder, and Cole turned to him. “Here is what I suggest we do. Get dressed, and we’ll pay a visit to Zabava and Ricardo. He’s waiting for us. We’ll take it from there.”
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” Cole got up and walked out the door.
Chapter 8
~ Damian Blake ~
Damian opened the door of Cole’s SUV and climbed onto the passenger’s seat, locking the seatbelt. Without looking at his brother, Cole started the car, driving it slowly toward the gates out of Paradise Manor, his fingers squeezing the steering wheel.
“Where to?” he asked, his voice raspy and quiet.
“Night Owl Inn,” replied Damian, staring straight ahead.
“Dima, I’m sorry…” Cole pressed the button on the built-in remote control, watching the gate open. “You are right. I am emotionally compromised, so I understand why you don’t want me with you. But please, try to understand my side, too. Ruslan is like a father to me. I actually do call him Father. I’ve been searching for him for the last few years, and I can’t sit and wait now that we possibly know where he is. Please—"
“Cole.” Damian shifted in his seat slightly, readjusting his seatbelt. “I understand, but I can’t take a chance that your feelings toward your maker will cost you your life.”
Cole turned to him, a deep wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “Dima, no. I’m not going to do anything that can—”
“What you fail to understand,” Damian interrupted him, “is that I watched you die once, and I still see it in my worst nightmares. I can’t do it again, Nikolai.” He took a pause, a dull ache tightening his chest. “You are my personal attachment. Do you think I don’t know that? I’m just as emotionally compromised as you are, and I have no idea what I will do if…” His voice faded into silence, and he looked away.
Cole nodded, his wrinkle becoming deeper. As they approached the hotel, he took the car off the road and parked it on a small parking lot in front of the main entrance. Unlocking the seatbelt, he turned to face his brother.
“You won’t have to watch me die because it’s not going to happen,” he objected softly. “But what you fail to understand is that even though I love my maker, you’re my brother. Nothing and no one can compare to that. Yes, I want to save Ruslan, but even more so I need to be with you because someone has to watch your giant back. And no one can do it better than me. Just put it through your thick skull—I’m with you. No matter what. You will never be alone again. Do you understand me, you stubborn jackass?”
Damian glanced at his brother’s tense face, and the corner of his lips lifted just a touch. “Fine… Dracula Junior. But we do it my way,” he said, swallowing the dread that had never left him since this morning. Since Cole didn’t change his position, still staring at him intently, he shrugged and added, trying to sound as lightheartedly as he could, “What? Do you need me to give you a hug?”
“Doofus.” Cole chuckled and pushed the door open, stepping out of the vehicle.
Damian dialed Zabava’s phone number, but before he heard the first beep of the dial tone, she answered the call.
“What took you so long? Room two-ten,” she said and hung up.
“It has to be the second floor,” muttered Damian, heading toward the building. He made his way upstairs and stopped in front of the door, ready to knock.
“Unlocked,” Zabava’s deep voice sounded from inside of the room.
Damian pushed the door open, allowing Cole to walk in first. The small hotel room was dark with the only window covered by thick panels. The closet door was opened, displaying an absolutely empty space behind it. Zabava lay on the bed with her arms folded under her head, observing them with her calculating, slightly sarcastic eyes.
“Look who’s here.” She pushed herself up and sat down, lowering her feet clad in heavy combat boots to the floor. “What can I do for you, boys?”
Damian pulled a chair and sat down, facing her. “You can start by telling us why the Sisterhood of the Sun is after my brother?”
“Impossible.” She frowned, her eyes darting to Cole. “Your brother is not on their list, Damian. I would’ve known if he was. It’s not my first job with the Sisterhood, and whenever they send me to a new territory, Grand Master Elony herself provides me with a list of all the rogue vampires in the area. Why do you think the Sisterhood slayers attacked him?”
“Because I recognized the tattoo on one of them.” Cole leaned against the wall, folding his arms. “I hope you believe I can identify the Sisterhood signature symbol and their fighting style.” Cole told her about the attack on Luciano’s mansion and the poison the slayers used to disable him.
“Impossible… I can’t believe—”
She fell silent and looked up, her eyes turning milky white, her lips moving as if she was reading something out loud, but no words came from her mouth. A moment later, she took a deep breath, and her eyes returned to their normal green. She got up and approached Cole, placing her hand on his arm.
“Cole, I don’t want you to be alarmed, but Grand Master Elony wants to speak with you,” she said, her gaze darting to Damian.
“If the Sisterhood still works with the Destiny Council, fighting on the side of Light, I have no reason to worry,” Cole replied calmly, giving her a dismissive wave of his hand. “Go ahead.”
Zabava channeled her magic, its soft, bluish glow enveloping her body. She drew a rune in the air, whispering a summoning spell. A glass-like oval of a communication window replaced the rune, and a woman stepped forward from the darkness. She was tall and muscular, her military fatigues just adding to her less than feminine appearance. Her pale gray eyes shone brightly against her ebony skin, and it seemed as if they lived a life of their own on her hard, emotionless face.
She crossed her arms behind her back and quickly observed every person in the room, a vibe of superiority surrounding her. Her eyes lingered on Damian a moment too long before moving to Cole.
“Mr. Cole Adams,” she said icily, disgust curving her lips into a snarl, “you dare claim that my people attacked you for no reason?”
“I claim nothing, Grand Master.” Cole stepped closer to the communication window, his face just as cold and void of emotions. “I’m stating a fact. A red tattoo on the wrist—a stylized Ankh symbol that looks like a sword with a serpent coiling around it. Are you going to say this is not the brand all your slayers wear?”
“A red tattoo on the wrist?” Her full lips parted, and her blazing eyes widened, an expression of confusion replacing that of arrogance. She ran her fingers through her short-cropped, curly hair and frowned. “It’s impossible. Only members of my special team have red tattoos.”
“Then you may want to assemble your special team and see if one of them is missing,” Cole retorted so frostily that Hell could freeze over from the mere sound of his voice. “They attacked me in my own Court for no reason, and I killed one of them. It was self-defense, of course.”
Grand Master Elony hooked her thumbs in the hoops of her belt, giving Cole another once-over. “I don’t believe it,” she objected, shaking her head. “It just can’t be.” She pointed at Cole, the heavy ring of the Sisterhood’s Grand Master decorating her index finger. “Mr. Adams, your reputation precedes you, and all my fighters are well aware of who you are. Besides, your name has never been in our books. Your claims have no—”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Cole shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants, his voice becoming softer. Damian stepped closer to his brother, recognizing the signs of an upcoming storm.
Grand Master Elony took in Damian’s massive frame and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “On the other hand, Mr. Adams, I believe you.” She took a long pause, looking like she was about to choke, and uttered, “I apologize for this unfortunate mistake.”
“You apologize?” Damian stepped closer to the communication window. “Isn’t that swell, Grand Master? My brother could have been killed by your people, and all you can do is apologize?”
For a brief moment, fury distorted her features, but she took a deep breath and inclined her head. “You’re right, Mister…” she said, raising her voice at the end as she expected Damian to introduce himself.
“Commander Damian Blake,” offered Damian, stressing his title, and pressed his fist to his chest, inclining his head in a formal Destiny Enforcers’ bow while suppressing the desire to rip her apart with his bare hands.
“Commander?” she repeated, staring at him in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you. I know only of Commander Moore…”
“I guess you’re not as well informed as you think.” Damian brushed his hand over the rune on his shoulder, and as it lit up with a soft white glow, she gasped and squared her shoulders, crossing her arms behind her back.
“The Shadow Enforcer…” she whispered in awe, but quickly composed herself and continued, “You’re absolutely right, Commander Blake, apologies are not enough. As Mr. Adams recommended, I will gather my special team and run an investigation myself.”
“Thank you, Grand Master,” said Damian. “I hope to hear from you soon. Cole Adams is not only my charge, but also my brother. I must know if he is in danger.”
“Yes, Commander. I’ll keep you updated on the progress of my investigation.” Grand Master Elony inclined her head in a formal bow and waved her hand, closing the communication window.
“Goddammit!” Cole threw his hands up. “She treats me like vermin! She’s not going to do anything to figure out what’s going on. In the meantime, I have slayers breathing down my neck. As if we don’t have enough problems without it.”