Shadow Form (Dark Impulse Book 2)

by Edmund Hughes

  She spun around and stomped out of the room before Jack had a chance to reply. He sighed and leaned his head back onto his pillow, half tempted to sleep in a while longer. It wasn’t fun trying to figure out what was going on in Katie’s head, sometimes. Was it simply jealousy? He figured it was possible, though it seemed like it might be something more than just that.

  He took a shower, taking his time as he let the warm water run over him. His body still felt slow and injured, and dull aches radiated from the damage the bullets had done to his insides. Still, he felt better mentally than he had in days.

  Thinking of Ryoko and how much they’d shared with each other, in body and in mind, sent an excited flutter through his chest. She’d seen him for who he was and hadn’t looked away. And he’d done the same for her. He felt a dopey smile creeping onto his face as he thought about it.

  She’d made him promise to give up his quest for vengeance on her behalf, and Jack was glad for it. He’d been headed in a dark direction, and in a way, she had saved him from that. He just wanted to have her close, to spend the day on the couch with her. Or in bed, if she could be convinced.

  Jack grinned to himself as he dried off and changed into comfortable clothing. He could hear voices coming from the foyer, and wasn’t surprised to find Katie, Ryoko, Kia, and the rest of the girls waiting by the door.

  “They wanted to say goodbye to you before they left, sir,” said Ryoko. She flashed a smile that seemed like it was just for him.

  “We cannot thank you enough for your kindness,” said Kia, in her thick accent. “We owe you very much. Our future. Our lives.”

  She held his gaze for an interesting moment and then bowed. The rest of the girls immediately followed her example. Some of them dropped down to their knees. Jack kept smiling, but he felt a little uncomfortable accepting the gesture. Rescuing the girls had been secondary to what he’d originally set out to do.

  “It’s no big deal,” said Jack. “Really. It’s fine.”

  Katie was making a point to keep from looking at him. Ryoko was still smiling, and she walked over to him and set a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m going to take the car to help Katie get them to the airport,” she said. “Just so they don’t have to cram into the backseat again. Is that okay, sir?”

  “Of course,” said Jack. “You don’t have to ask permission.”

  Her smile took on a flirtatious tone, and he got the feeling that she got a weird sort of pleasure out of deferring to him like that. Jack put his hand on top of hers and squeezed. Katie loudly cleared her throat.

  “We should get going,” she said.

  Ryoko nodded. The girls thanked Jack a second time, all of them saying the words in English, and then the entire group left the mansion.

  CHAPTER 27

  The silence that remained in their wake was heavy, but not unwelcome. Ryoko had left out toast and eggs for breakfast, and Jack ate slowly. He felt happy that he finally had a day where he could justify relaxing. His blood essence reserves had been diminished significantly overnight, probably due to how much healing his body had needed. It wasn’t much of an issue, though, with Ryoko as willing as she was to let him feed.

  He made sure to call the bank as he ate and set up the money transfer into Katie’s account. It was an odd feeling to casually commit to spending thousands of dollars, even if it was just a tiny portion of his inheritance.

  Jack wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself after eating his food. It felt strange to let himself relax. After hunting Mira and chasing after the men who’d hurt Ryoko, part of him had gotten used to traversing the chaos. He headed into the lounge and turned on the TV, finding a comedy series on Netflix to watch.

  The doorbell rang just as he was finishing the first episode. He groaned as his thigh flared with pain as he stood up, but it wasn’t bad enough to keep him from making it back into the foyer. He opened the door, raising an eyebrow at the woman he found standing on the other side.

  “Hello,” said the woman. “I’m Margaret Anne Birdwood.”

  She reached her hand out to shake his, as though her introduction should have explained everything. Margaret was a tall woman, almost of an even height with him, with wavy red mid-length hair, emerald eyes, and pale skin.

  She was probably somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties, and she was rather attractive, despite a few splotches of acne across her forehead and face. She wore a white button up blouse, a grey skirt, and black stockings with heels. And she wore them really, really well. The outfit was professional while still managing to emphasize the borderline voluptuous nature of her figure.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Margaret,” said Jack. He raised an eyebrow, letting his confusion show on his face.

  “I’m here for the cursory appraisal,” said Margaret, still smiling. “Your wife didn’t tell you?”

  “My… wife?” asked Jack.

  “Katherine White,” said Margaret. “Oh, I apologize! I assumed that the fact that the mansion was under joint ownership meant that the two of you were together.”

  Jack frowned. Katie hadn’t mentioned having the mansion appraised, but it didn’t surprise him, given how frustrated she’d been with him recently.

  “Of course,” said Jack. “Come on in, Ms. Birdwood.”

  “Please,” she said, smiling. “Call me Margaret.”

  Jack closed the door behind her, watching as she surveyed the foyer.

  “From what I’ve seen from the outside, it will most definitely need a little work if you want to have a chance at maximizing the sale,” said Margaret. “A new coat of paint. Some pruning on the cherry trees. That sort of thing.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Jack. “Katie and I have only spoken in passing about selling the mansion. I’m not fully convinced that it would be, well, the right move at the moment. At least for me.”

  Margaret nodded, but she seemed more interested in looking around at the walls and ceiling than adding to the conversation. Jack frowned, considering what would happen if he tried to put his foot down and refuse to sell his half of the mansion. Katie would push him to buy out her half, in that case. He could afford it with his inheritance, but it wasn’t money he wanted to spend if he didn’t have to.

  “I apologize if I’m interrupting your morning,” said Margaret.

  “No, it’s fine,” said Jack. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone to stop by.”

  “All I need to do is take a quick look around,” said Margaret. “Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes, max. Just pretend I’m not even here.”

  Jack nodded, and Margaret seemed to take that as permission to head for the stairs. Jack’s phone rang as he started to follow her. It was Katie.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “The jet didn’t end up costing as much as I’d anticipated,” said Katie. “I still have a few thousand dollars. Do you mind if I just bring it to the mansion rather than doubling back to the bank?”

  “That’s fine,” said Jack.

  Neither of them said anything for a couple of seconds. It seemed like the last time his relationship with Katie had been simple and straightforward was way back when they’d both been kids. It had just been one obstacle or conflict after another since he’d returned to Lestaron Island. He’d been hoping for so much out of their reunion, and now he wasn’t even sure if they’d be able to endure each other as friends.

  “Hey…” he said. “About before—”

  “It’s fine, Jack.” Katie spoke the words in a tone that said the complete opposite. “You’re an adult. I’m not going to try to look out for you anymore. It isn’t my place, and I don’t want it to be. I’ll leave that to Ryoko, if she wants to take on the task.”

  “Katie…” he said. “You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be.”

  “Am I?” she asked.

  “You expect me to think that it’s a coincidence that a realtor showed up unannounced an hour after our last argument?”

  “…What?
”

  “Seriously, you could have at least given me a heads up,” said Jack. “If you want to sell the place that badly, we should talk about it first.”

  “Jack, I didn’t call a realtor,” said Katie. “What are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t… call a realtor?”

  Jack felt his blood run cold. He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and sprinted for the stairs. It didn’t take him long to find Margaret on the second floor. She was in his room, standing next to his desk. Holding his borrowed library book, The Occult Rumors of Thomas Aquinas, open in one hand. She smiled when she saw him and slammed the book shut.

  “You didn’t come here to appraise the house,” said Jack, slowly.

  “No, I didn’t,” said Margaret. “I’m a member of the Order of Chaldea, Jack. And I know what you are.”

  Margaret reached into the neckline of her blouse and pulled a long, wooden wand speckled with glitter. Jack would have found the way the wand seemed to almost appear from in between the cleavage of her breasts to be funny, if not for the stone-cold expression on her face.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Jack. “The… Order of Chaldea? Is this some kind of joke?”

  He forced a confused expression onto his face. If the only evidence Margaret had to work with was the book she’d found, there was a chance that he could bluff his way out of the situation. His hopes were dashed immediately as she lifted the wand and aimed the tip in his direction. Jack tried to dodge for the door as he heard her muttering an incantation under her breath. He didn’t make it in time.

  A spell that manifested as a sparkling purple projectile slammed into his shoulder, knocking him out into the hallway and spinning him around. Jack’s body left an imprint in the drywall as he hit, and he could only groan as the pain reverberated through the previous night’s injuries.

  Margaret took a step toward him, keeping the tip of her wand aimed at his chest. She let loose with another blast, the purple light nearly blinding Jack, who made the mistake of looking directly into it as it shot toward him.

  This time, he managed to roll out of the way. He rose to a crouch and hurried toward the stairs. Margaret followed at an unhurried pace, her high heels clacking against the floor with each step.

  “Did you really think that we didn’t know about you, Jack?” she asked. She sounded sincere about the question, her voice professional, rather than derisive.

  “Know… about what?” he asked. It made his chest to hurt to speak, but he wasn’t ready to give up on his bluff, just yet.

  “This will go a lot more easily if you come clean and surrender,” said Margaret. “I’ve already seen your handiwork. Those poor girls leaving this morning. A harem full of thralls… It’s almost impressive how many you managed to accumulate in the short time you’ve been a nightwalker.”

  Jack had to keep the amount of offense he took from her insinuation from showing on his face. Instead of reacting, he lifted his hands up in the universal sign of surrender, hoping that he could at least buy himself some time to come up with a plan.

  Margaret still had her wand aimed at him, and Jack made the mistake of taking a step back from it, directly into one of the path of one of the window’s bright morning sunbeams. A headache pounded to life in his temples, reverberating against the inside of his skull hard enough to make him wince.

  “I wanted to wait until I could catch you outside,” said Margaret. “For the obvious reason. The weather lately has stifled my attempts to complete my mission. It was just dark enough with the rain and clouds that I didn’t want to risk it.

  Jack took a step past the window, hating the fact that he needed to. He finally let himself give up on the idea of fooling her into thinking he was a normal human. He took a breath and narrowed his eyes into a glare.

  “This would have been so much more straightforward if I could have lured you out into the open,” said Margaret. “Not just for you, but for me, as well. I’m a pyromancer by training. Fire magic doesn’t work so well inside if you aren’t planning on going down with the blaze. Still, timing is everything. Catching you alone like this is convenient in its own way.”

  She flicked her wand in Jack’s direction again. This time, he was ready. He dodged to the side, bouncing off the second-floor balcony railing hard enough to make the wood groan. Margaret didn’t relent, and her second kinetic blast caught one of Jack’s legs, knocking his feet out from under him at the worst possible time.

  He’d been trying to spin toward the stairs. He still managed to get down them, tumbling instead of walking. His head cracked against a hard edge as he fell head over heels, and his ankle twisted painfully as he landed in a heap at the bottom.

  What was she doing? Her magic might be able to hurt or stun him, but unless she found a miraculous angle or managed to knock him through a window, it wouldn’t cause serious harm. Jack almost felt like she was toying with him, but given the nature of her stated mission, it was hard for him to believe.

  Margaret started down the stairs toward him, and he knew it was time to stop holding back. He staggered to his feet, spun to dodge another of her purple kinetic energy blasts, and then charged down another flight of stairs, this time into the basement, where no outside light could sap away his strength.

  If Margaret had taken her pretend role as a realtor a little more seriously, she might have known the mansion’s layout well enough to cut him off from the door in time. Jack felt relief flood through him as he entered the darkness. It was like entering an air-conditioned room on a hot day, except a hundred times better.

  He smiled a little as he watched the stairs. He’d basically won the fight just by making it into the dark. If Margaret really did know that he was a vampire, she’d be a fool to follow him down into a dark basement, where he’d be able to fight at his best.

  Jack waited, and after a couple of seconds, he heard a faint sigh come from the top of the stairs. Margaret started down them slowly, closing the door behind her with a polite pull. Her expression was serious, but there was an air of confidence and calm around her that was unbefitting of the situation. Jack almost admired her for her composure.

  “It isn’t too late,” he said, deciding to try appeal to her logic one last time. “You came here looking for a monster. You should be able to tell by now that’s not what I am. I don’t even want to fight you.”

  “Liar,” said Margaret.

  She flicked her wand at him again, and this time, the tip of it glowed with purple energy for half a second before anything happened. The kinetic blast she launched was larger and faster moving than the other ones had been. Jack didn’t have time to attempt a properly executed dodge.

  Instead, he summoned his Spectral Sword and knocked the spell aside with a quick, desperate slash. The sword hummed as it made contact, and Jack felt a slight vibration running up the length of the ethereal, symmetrical blade as he deflected the magic harmlessly to the side.

  Margaret kept her wand pointed at him, but she didn’t immediately follow up with a second attack. Instead, she crooked her head at an angle, pursing her lips and staring at him with inquisitive green eyes.

  “Spectral magic,” she murmured. “So you’re an Aquinian vampire. Having a blood mage on a remote island like this… It’s a good thing we acted when we did. Who bit you, demon?”

  Jack shook his head, and then gave an exaggerated shrug.

  “Who says anyone bit me?” he asked. “Maybe I’m Thomas Aquinas, reborn?”

  He felt an odd, somewhat unwanted sense of loyalty toward Mira, despite their complicated relationship. It wasn’t so much that Jack wanted to protect her, but rather that he had no interest whatsoever in offering up information to his current adversary. If the circumstances of the encounter had been different, perhaps a little less violent, maybe he would have considered it.

  “Funny,” said Margaret. “Almost as funny as you claiming that you weren’t a monster before. If you could see what you look like right now. Your eyes
, your skin, even your posture. You are the monster I came here to find.”

  Jack was surprised by how much her words annoyed him. She’d lied her way into his home and attacked him, and now she had the gall to call him names.

  “Appearances mean a lot less than actions,” said Jack. “You can accuse me of being a vampire, and I won’t deny it. But I am not a monster.”

  The words sounded a lot less convincing than he’d wanted them to, and he suddenly found it hard to hold Margaret’s gaze. Jack could feel the blood pounding in the back of his skull, pushing him to attack her, defeat her, and… what? Bite her? Enthrall her? How would that do anything other than prove her point?

  But what other choice did he have?

  CHAPTER 28

  Jack watched Margaret, his Spectral Sword at the ready in one hand, knees crouched. She still looked calm, almost aloof. Her wand twitched once in her fingers, and Jack flinched back. But she didn’t cast another spell.

  “Do you even know how much chaos Aquinian Vampires have wrought on the world over the centuries?” she asked.

  Jack shrugged, trying to keep his expression unconcerned.

  “I’m not responsible for their crimes any more than you are responsible for those of your ancestors,” he said.

  “But you share the same fundamental nature that they did,” said Margaret. “You are ignorant of the history of your breed, aren’t you? It’s quite something. Full of necromancers, cannibals, and psychopaths. Thomas Aquinas himself corrupted the church more than anyone who came before or after him.”

  “That’s not who I am,” said Jack.

  “It is,” said Margaret. “You just haven’t realized it yet.”

  The wand twitched again, and this time a spell did follow. Jack used his sword to deflect the purple kinetic blast to the side, where it collided with one of the wine racks, shattering several bottles and spilling the beverages inside. It left a sickly, bittersweet smell on the air.