Night Slayer 2: Monster Quest

Home > Other > Night Slayer 2: Monster Quest > Page 4
Night Slayer 2: Monster Quest Page 4

by William Massa


  I had successfully disarmed them both without getting a scratch on me. I guess I was getting the hang of this. Too bad Octurna wasn’t here to see this.

  The two unarmed golems simultaneously bolted back to their feet. Their monk-like robes flared around their inhuman forms, making them look like ghosts. They circled me, working as a team. I grinned cockily at them, not impressed. Did they genuinely think they stood a chance against my gauntlet? The twin blades were ready for the golems’ next move. Or so I foolishly believed.

  To my stunned surprise, the two golems morphed into their human forms and tossed their robes aside. Within seconds the dynamic had changed. Where a moment earlier I had faced two monsters, I now stood surrounded by two beautiful naked women.

  Shit, talk about fighting dirty!

  I slightly lowered my gauntlet as my eyes grew wide. Their breasts swayed, and their beautiful faces sported devilish grins. The two vixens knew my weakness for the fairer sex. Cursing under my breath, I depressed the button on my gauntlet, and the twin blades retracted back into the contraption. I removed my bandolier with its collection of silver stakes and dropped the whip.

  If they wanted hand-to-hand combat, they’d get it. Zemira hurled herself at me, her caramel-colored curly hair a tantalizing contrast to her darker skin. I darted aside at the last moment. Their naked, super-fit bodies were a tad distracting. It was hard for me to keep my head in the game but I tried my best.

  As Zemira surged past me, Nuala made her move. Her luscious body slammed into me, and we both went down in a tangle of limbs. I tried to wrestle her nude form off me, but I found my hands sliding down her suddenly slick breasts. What the fuck?

  Nuala pressed against me. Her body glistened in the guttering torchlight as her incredible breasts arched toward my face. My fingers slipped off her slick skin again, and understanding filled my mind. Oil covered the curvy bodies of the two golems, making it a lot harder for me to grapple them.

  Magic was in play here, and that meant Octurna had joined the party.

  And the sorceress wasn’t done yet.

  I remained determined to put up a good fight despite the circumstances. My resolve weakened a second later when my clothes vanished, and I found myself naked. I couldn’t ignore the skin-on-skin contact any longer, and the fierce fighting took on a playful nature. My body responded to the two golem girls, our wrestling becoming something more erotic.

  Nuala flipped us both over so that she sat astride my hips. She lowered herself onto my manhood, and I welcomed it. It’d been a long, hard day after all.

  As pain turned into pleasure, a familiar voice invaded my thoughts. “When you’re done fooling around, I want to see you in the observation room. We have work to do.”

  I twisted my neck so Nuala’s luscious breasts weren’t blocking my view and peered up at the stone bleachers. As I suspected, Octurna was up there watching us, a teasing smile tugging at her lips—the grinning mastermind behind this little fantasy scenario. I couldn’t be angry at her, considering. I had entered the arena searching for a release for some of my darker emotions.

  I guess I had found it.

  3

  To say I entered the observation chamber with a bounce in my step would have been an understatement. Most of the built-up tension had melted away, thanks to the loving attention of the two golem girls.

  I scanned the room and found Octurna ensconced on her throne like a dark queen. A fiery red robe spilled down the black stone like frozen blood, the dress parted in strategic places to offer tantalizing flashes of her amazing body. I glimpsed a perfectly shaped leg and a hint of cleavage, the skin creamy white and flawless. I had spent the last few hours in the embrace of two goddesses, but I would have to be dead to stop noticing Octurna’s grace and sensual power. The sorceress was in a league of her own.

  She picked up on my improved mood and flashed me a knowing smile. “I’m glad to see you looking more relaxed, Jason.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “I gave the situation a little nudge, but Nuala and Zamira like you. And you don’t dislike them either.”

  I shrugged sheepishly. I couldn’t argue on that front. I had tried to resist the seductive golems, but I was only human.

  “I know you had certain hesitations in that department. Believe me, the golems might be magical creatures but they are alive. Like all living things, they have needs.”

  “So I noticed.”

  “We all need to let off steam from time to time, right?”

  I eyed the sorceress and wondered how often she let off steam. And why didn’t we let off steam together some time, for old times’ sake?

  That’s right, the sorceress and I weren’t strangers in that department. Octurna and I had made love the first night I arrived in this place. She claimed the act was a means to an end, the sole way she could transfer some of her magic and establish a psychic link between us. Perhaps that was true. Unfortunately, since that initial encounter, she’d become cold and aloof whenever I showed interest in her. Sometimes I sensed our attraction was mutual, but Octurna wouldn’t allow our relationship to become personal. It was probably better that way. If we became lovers, the sorceress might find it harder to send me on some of these highly dangerous missions. Until we defeated the Shadow Cabal, I was her soldier and she was my general. I could accept it even though the vivid memory of that first night made it difficult.

  I gave myself an internal push and turned my attention to more pressing matters.

  “You wanted to see me,” I said.

  Octurna nodded, her face turning serious. “I apologize for not greeting you when you returned to the castle, but there were matters I needed to attend to.”

  “Let me guess. Did these matters have something to do with the Ravanok Coven?”

  A thin smile curled her lips. “I had to make sure the bloodsucker was telling the truth.”

  “And did she? Tell the truth?”

  Octurna tilted her head at the multi-colored wall of stained-glass, motivating me to take a step closer.

  The bank of windows morphed into one large church window that showed a sweeping bird’s-eye perspective of a cliffside town overlooking an electric blue ocean. Jagged rocks thrust out of the foaming sea like the teeth of some submerged stone giant.

  As a buff of military history, I knew cliffside villages like these were constructed with the defensive advantages in mind. Such places had a superior command of the surrounding sea and were pretty much impossible to attack from the water. Towering over the village on a nearby mountaintop was a castle-like structure. This had to be the monastery where the Ravanok Coven was located.

  The stained-glass window zoomed in, but before I could get a closer look, the whole image broke up, and the window turned black.

  “The monastery is warded,” I realized.

  “Yes. And as you can see the magical defense systems are active.”

  “Sure looks like the vamp was telling the truth. But why would these vampires set up shop in a medieval monastery?”

  “Ravanok always loved to mock the faith of true believers. Besides, the monastery is isolated and can be easily defended. Not to mention the hundreds of backpackers who visit the location every year, providing a steady stream of potential victims.”

  As if to prove her point, the bank of stained-glass windows lit up with images of the cliffside village. The digital age had barely made a dent in this ancient place. The cobbled streets, stone houses, and horse-drawn carriages all belonged to a different century. Here and there I caught a few anachronistic touches—a Moped parked outside a café, a young woman talking on a cell phone—but mostly, everything was as it would have appeared in centuries past. The locals gave off a relaxed vibe. This place was a far cry from the fast, relentless pace of modern life.

  Another detail soon became clear—the town was a mecca for tourists. They were all young, artistic looking outsiders—adventurous folks searching for a different existence than the 21st century could offer
them, on a quest to escape the world of today.

  “So what’s the deal with this Ravanok character? You know this bloodsucker?”

  “I know of him. He is…bad news, as you might say.”

  “Yet I get the funny feeling I’m about to pay a visit to his lovely lair,” I muttered.

  Octurna cocked an eyebrow. “There's something inside the Coven we need.”

  I nodded, not all that surprised. “I figured that much.”

  Octurna turned toward me and waved her hands. A shimmering image materialized in the air like a hologram—a glass coffin filled with a red substance.

  My forehead crinkled. “You’re after a coffin full of blood?”

  The sorceress steepled her hands, her eyes filled with determination. “Not just anyone’s blood. The blood inside this coffin belonged to a fallen Guardian.”

  I processed this. The Guardians had been the protectors of the original white magic Cabal—combat magicians who had acted as magical cops before the Seven Dark Masters seized control and hunted down their numbers. None of their order had survived the purge except for Octurna. She was the last living Guardian, as far as I knew. That's why the sorceress was so determined to go to war with the Shadow Cabal. She wasn’t just trying to save the world. She was out for revenge.

  “The Guardian’s blood represents a source of great magic and power and could change the tide of this war,” she said.

  Something about her story didn’t sit right with me. “Let’s back up for a sec,” I said. “Why would the Shadow Cabal use vampires to protect a coffin full of blood? Sounds a tad counter-intuitive, if you ask me.”

  Octurna wasn’t amused by my smart-ass comment. She never was.

  “Vampires feed on the blood of the living. The Guardian whose blood you see inside the coffin has been dead for a long time. Consuming such blood would come with dire consequences."

  There was a heaviness in the sorceresses’ voice as she spoke, a palpable sadness. And then it hit me.

  “You knew the dead Guardian whose blood you’re after.”

  The sorceress nodded, a grave expression etched into her striking features. “A fallen hero.”

  “And you want to tap into the blood’s magic, make it your own?”

  “We need more magic if we are going to win this war. We got lucky in Los Angeles. We caught our enemies off guard. That won’t happen again.”

  Octurna understandably wanted to get her hands on this power, but it also raised an interesting question in my mind.

  “How come the Shadow Cabal hasn’t made use of the blood’s power?”

  “The white magic wielded by a Guardian would be deadly to an agent of chaos,” Octurna explained without looking at me.

  My gut told me the sorceress wasn’t telling me the full story here. If the Cabal couldn’t tap into the magic of this blood, why not destroy it?

  Almost as if the sorceress had read my thoughts—and to be fair, she sometimes did read my thoughts—she eyed the collection of monster skulls and said, “They’ve kept the blood as a trophy of their victory over our order. Some of them even believe they can unlock the blood’s secrets at some point.”

  I decided to not pry further and accept this explanation, at least for now.

  “You said you’ve grown tired of hunting down random beasts. You’re eager to take the fight to the Cabal. With this blood, we can close the power gap and confront our true enemy.”

  This all sounded reasonable, and I was all for taking our efforts to the next level. But I still had questions that needed answering.

  “How did you know Ravanok’s Coven was protecting the blood?”

  “I’ve been observing this world for over a century, Jason. Even though many of the Cabal’s agents are powerful enough to elude my magical windows, I still pick up bits and pieces.”

  I turned to regard the spooky monastery, which thrust toward the gray skies. Just once, couldn’t the bad guys be holed up somewhere nice, like Palm Springs?

  “How many vamps are we talking about here?”

  “I do not know for sure. Expect a nest.”

  A new view of the majestic structure filled the window. I caught distant glimpses of gun-toting human guards patrolling the high monastery walls during the day. The ocean boiled and raged and battered the steep cliff below.

  What sort of scum would protect such monsters? These assholes were definitely mercs, soulless killers willing to sell their deadly craft on the open market to whoever could afford their price. Morals didn’t factor into this scenario. It was business. The vampires had most likely sweetened the deal by promising more than just a fat payday. A shot at immortality could buy you undying loyalty from all kinds of folks.

  I did my best to not let my emotions further cloud my thinking. I hated monsters with a passion, but humans willing to sell out their own kind were even worse.

  Another thought occurred to me. “How do I locate a single coffin in a place that big? And how do I get it out with a hive of vamps gunning for my ass?”

  “You don’t need all of the blood. A cup will suffice.” The sorceress waved her hands again, and a silver chalice appeared in her open palm. The cup bore no decoration but gave off a dim blue light, suggesting magic within.

  “Regarding the other question…” Octurna rose from her throne. A heartbeat later, she loomed in front of me, inches separating us.

  I inhaled her intoxicating scent as she leaned closer and asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Just hold still.”

  Her eyes stayed fixed on me as one of her hands reached for my combat gauntlet. She depressed the release button, and the twin knives shot to attention. The sudden close contact between us charged the interaction with erotic energy, and I felt another part of me rising. Dragon blood was better than Viagra.

  To my surprise, she slid her palm along the sharp edge of one of the gleaming blades, drawing a line of blood. Eyes remaining locked on me, her other hand raised my black shirt, exposing the intricate pattern of tattoos on my stomach and chest. The swirling, reddish marks covered my skin in branching patterns and bore a strong resemblance to Octurna’s own body art. These designs were a magical extension of the sorceress' tattoos and inextricably connected her powers to me. They had leapt off her body onto mine during that first night of passionate lovemaking. Don' t ask me how the link worked. The best way to describe is that my tats allow me to tap into Octurna’s magical power. She is the source, and I’m the receiver.

  Octurna rubbed her bleeding hand into my tattooed chest, lingering for a beat. The contact was electric, and my blood stirred.

  The sorceress tried to maintain an impassive expression but there was a flicker in those mysterious eye. Was it desire?

  My ink started to respond to the magical energy in Octurna’s blood, and the tats on my abs ignited with a crimson light.

  “My blood will show you the way once you’re inside the monastery.”

  I frowned. “Sounds spooky. I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

  Octurna pulled away from me and returned to her throne. I fixed my gaze on the mountain visible in the window, not looking at the sorceress.

  “Take me to the village, and I’ll figure out how to get into that place while the sun is still up. I’d rather deal with mercs than vamps any day of the week.”

  “Very well.”

  Octurna spun toward the windows, and the painted stained-glass images moved as the smaller panes reconfigured into one larger, oblong church window. A beat later, I was peering out at a cobbled side street of the Italian seaside village. An old man carrying a loaf of bread and a bottle of red wine sauntered past us, unaware he was being watched by the last surviving member of an ancient magical order and her modern-day knight.

  Octurna's hand traced a circle in the air, and I was suddenly decked out in full combat regalia. I sported my rune-marked machine pistol, a bandolier of wooden and silver stakes, and my trusty 9mm handgun loaded with blessed bullets. There was one new
addition to my arsenal. A silver chain studded with sharp blades made from the same material. I had used the whip on a few of my most recent monster hunts and considered it a formidable addition to my box of tricks.

  Damn, Octurna wasn’t wasting any time.

  I understood her urgency. Naja might double-cross us and warn Ravanok. Even though the Coven had cast her out, she might see this as an opportunity for regaining her old master’s favor. Better to make our move as soon as possible before the vampire monastery could prepare a counteroffensive.

  Armed and eager to get this operation underway, I strode toward the waiting gateway.

  I still had the feeling Octurna was holding back information, but I trusted her enough to know her heart was in the right place. She might not always play fair, but she was still one of the good guys—at least when compared to our enemies.

  Or so I hoped.

  I sucked in a deep breath of air, clutched my machine pistol and stepped through the magical window.

  4

  I emerged from the Sanctuary and found myself in a stone plaza overlooking the ocean. My eyes shifted to an array of tables fronting a café and landed on a small group of tourists who were nursing Peronis and picking at some mouth-watering Caprese, prosciutto spread, and Rusticella flat bread. They hadn’t noticed my arrival. Before they could spot me, the camouflaging magic of my leather trench coat kicked in, and my whole appearance changed. I went from black-clad, heavily armed badass to backpack-slugging tourist in a flash.

  Only a skilled mage could see through my disguise. Even my weapons had vanished. This change wasn’t a hologram-like effect but a real transformation. I couldn’t feel my monster hunting gear at the moment, only the weight of my pack and its leather straps biting into my shoulders. Don’t ask me how this stuff works. All I knew is that my guns and blades would materialize in a flash if I ran into trouble.

 

‹ Prev