Shadow Detective Supernatural Dark Urban Fantasy Series: Books 4-6 (Shadow Detective Boxset Book 2)

by William Massa

  Nothing. No Archer—and no vampires, either. Perhaps Archer’s lead had been wrong. Maybe vamps had hidden out here in the past only to move on.

  I was about to give up when I caught a flicker of movement. For a moment, I assumed my senses had played a trick on me and that I’d imagined the whole thing. But then I caught it again. A human shape peeled from the darkness, eerily highlighted in the spectral green tones of my night-vision binoculars. It was immediately clear to me that I wasn’t looking at Archer.

  The bald figure darted along a row of bleachers, moving with a shadow-sleek grace. A newbie, then. There were two breeds of vampires out there. The seductive, metrosexual kind, as popularized by many Hollywood movies and TV shows. Generally, it took a vamp at least a century to reach such a high level of self-control that they could easily blend in among humans despite their appetite for blood. And then there were the newly made ones. These newborns were more animal than human, their behavior driven by a savage, bottomless hunger. Most of Marek’s followers had belonged to the second class—and so did the bald beast I was now tracking through my night-vision goggles.

  “Looks like we’re not alone anymore.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, partner.”

  Wait, did I just call Cyon “partner”? I only had one partner, and he was hanging out back at the loft. The demon was messing with my head, twisting my thoughts. I would have to be careful.

  I swept the arena, and my breath caught in my throat as three more creatures of the night emerged from the darkness. They were stealthily zeroing in on a lone figure.

  Shit!

  My old girlfriend had walked into a trap. Time to jump into the fray. I whipped out Hellseeker and burst into motion.

  “I will say, appalling as it is being stuck in your rather tiresome brain, things don’t get dull around you.”

  It almost sounded like Cyon was getting a kick out of my nightly battles with the dark side. He was like no demon I had ever encountered in the past. Then again, I had never gotten this close to one before.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. “Now shut up.”

  Weapon drawn and ready, I barreled down the staircase to my left. As I advanced, I lost sight of Archer. Where had she gone? One moment she was walking down a tiered row of benches, and the next she had vanished into thin air. I vaguely recalled that the lower bleachers were open to the ground below. The best explanation was that she had slipped under them.

  Buy why would she do that? Did Archer already know the undead were stalking her?

  My thoughts came to a jarring halt as three figures wriggled their way from the darkness below the bleachers. At the same time, I heard an animalistic shriek. Two more vampires had materialized above me, ready to pounce. I cursed under my breath. I’d been so focused on saving Archer from the vampires’ trap that I had gotten caught in it myself.

  “How many times are you going to try to get yourself killed tonight? Going for a personal best, are we?”

  I ignored Cyon’s latest remark and opened fire. Two blessed bullets took out the nearest vamps, and they vanished back into the darkness which had spawned them, nothing more than ash and bad memories.

  I whirled and unleashed another volley of blessed steel. The bestial howls of disintegrating vamps filled the arena. More creatures of the night appeared around me. Strangely enough, I experienced no fear. Instead, a terrible rage welled up in me, the frustrations of the last few weeks boiling to the surface. I almost welcomed the battle and chance to decimate this undead horde. I had lost my love. Skulick had been reduced to a shadow of the man he once was. And now a demon was using me as its unwilling host.

  Saying that my life was a mess would be an understatement. I wished I could turn back the clock and return to a simpler time when my biggest worries were a scolding from Skulick because I’d forgotten to brush up on my Latin or skipped a chapter in some occult doorstopper my partner deemed essential reading.

  “Growing up can be hard,” Cyon remarked.

  I snarled and snapped another magazine into my blessed pistol. The barrel emanated a green light, its magic transforming regular ammo into magical bullets that could inflict harm on supernatural entities.

  I kept firing, taking out one vamp after another, but they kept on coming no matter how many I reduced to heaps of ash.

  Before long I found myself surrounded by a tightening ring of vamps. My bullets were running out—fast.

  Taking on the nest like this had been a rookie mistake. I had allowed my emotions to take over. I should have kept moving, but instead I’d decided to go all scorched earth on the brood. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out.

  These dark thoughts were still tumbling through my head as Archer dropped from the bleachers above. In one hand, she sported a compound crossbow; in the other, a whip. A bolt sliced through the night and tore into the nearest vamp’s throat. The creature evaporated seconds before its fangs could sink into my exposed neck, a silent scream frozen on his snarling lips.

  Archer joined the fray, a woman possessed. Not literally, I hoped. Her whip lashed out and there was sudden, vicious crackling noise. A fresh wound sprang to life across another vampire’s throat and the monster disintegrated in a cloud of dust.

  She’s using the Witch Whip, I realized. The multi-tailed whip was fashioned from a rope once used for hanging witches and warlocks. Skulick and I had come across the mystical weapon back in Istanbul a few years back when we had a run-in with the Order, an organization that has been fighting the forces of darkness for centuries. Thinking back to the case brought memories back of Nyssa, the enigmatic monster hunter who served the Order. We had saved her life that time, and she repaid us by gifting Skulick the magical whip. Last I checked, it was kept under lock and key in the vault where we safeguarded the most dangerous occult relics we encountered during our various cases. I was still asking myself how Archer had gotten her hands on the weapon when the whip struck again.

  The answers would have to wait. We weren’t in the clear yet.

  As the remaining vamps pounced, Archer and I fought side by side. For a second, it felt like old times. Better, even. Where before Archer had held back, to an extent, she now fully let loose. Criminals had rights; vampires didn’t. We were two monster hunters ready to take on the world. Having a true partner by my side as I battled the creatures of the night felt good, damnit.

  “Raven, you’re one sentimental fool.”

  Adrenaline surging, I paid Cyon no mind.

  Archer had showed up in the nick of time and saved my ass. As we battled the horde, I received my chance to return the favor. Two vampires were threatening to overwhelm her when I nailed them in mid-attack. For a beat, our eyes met. Was that a grateful or irritated snarl?

  Dust filled the air and choked my lungs, but I wasn’t complaining. Inhaling vampire ash sure beat the alternative.

  I don’t know how much time passed before the gunfire finally stopped and the rush of combat subsided. My face was caked in perspiration and ash, my mouth dry. Archer, on the other hand, looked like she had barely broken a sweat. She made this shit look good.

  For a moment, we both stared at each other, beyond words. And then a grin crinkled her lovely features. “Maybe next time, I’ll show you how to use a stake.”

  Was she making fun of me? Perhaps she was. But judging by her expression, maybe a part of her was charmed by my continued concern for her safety. “Next time” implied that she expected us to run into each other again, right? That was something.

  A final glance and smile, and then Archer vanished into the shadows. I was alone again.

  “Your lady friend is quite impressive.”

  Well, not exactly alone.

  “I can see why you are head over heels for her.”

  “Can you, now?”

  “You both harbor a death wish.”

  Was there any truth to Cyon’s words? Or was he messing with my head again? I suspected the latter.

  “If that was the
case, then why do we fight so hard to stay alive?” I asked, a trace of doubt in my voice.

  “Perhaps you’re just confused,” Cyon said. “After all, you’re human.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  I did my best not to pay any more attention to Cyon as I stomped out of the stadium. Adrenaline was draining out of my veins, leaving me feeling weak-kneed. Or maybe that was just Archer. I made my way back to my bike and headed back to the warehouse loft.

  It was only ten minutes after three, and I decided to make a quick pit stop at the local dive near my house. I had scaled back my alcohol intake lately, but a night like this one deserved a beer or two. Now that I knew Archer was safely on her way home, my thoughts turned back to the strange case of the missing skull. Was the killer a human capable of tapping into dark forces, or a supernatural beast? I’d never heard of anything that took the skull as a trophy while leaving the rest of its victim intact.

  I entered Neil’s Bar two minutes before last call and managed to snag an IPA. As I took my first sips of bitter-citrus bliss, I accidentally caught the bartender’s eye. The tattooed blonde raised an eyebrow and gave me a sexy smirk. I looked away quickly. I’d faced a psychotic ghost, battled a horde of vampires, and visited a crime scene from Hell all in the same night. Even if I’d been interested in a one-night stand, I was too damn tired.

  I drained my drink, fantasizing about climbing into my nice, soft bed—alone.

  “Hate to break this to you, partner, but you’re no fun.”

  Something about the tone of Cyon’s psychic voice gave me pause. What was the demon up to?

  The last thing I remember was the stunning bartender strutting toward me with singular purpose, her interest undeniable. Then I felt reality slipping away.

  “Cyon, don’t you dare…”

  My thoughts trailed off as the bar swam out of focus. Cyon was now in the driver’s seat. And I had a feeling he was going to take me for one hell of a ride.

  6

  Officer Edgar Semele was in awe of his new partner.

  Her name was Sarah Brown, and she’d become a bit of a legend around his precinct. Not for an amazing arrest record or anything like that. Instead, she was known for being able to diffuse even the most volatile situation. Despite having grown up in a rough neighborhood, Officer Brown hadn’t lost her warm smile or caring heart. Even if she was facing down some drug-crazed pimp or confronting a robber at gunpoint, she managed to project a deep sense of calm and empathy. She was willing to hear anyone out without judgment, even if they were the bad guys.

  That wasn’t to say she wouldn’t resort to violence if the situation called for it. She was one tough cookie and a great shot, as Semele had witnessed himself during their numerous target practices at the police shooting range. But to Officer Brown, violence was a last resort. Her equanimity and restraint in the face of potential conflict, her level of self-control and moderation—these qualities left a lasting impression on the young officer who had only been on the force for a mere six months. If Semele was honest with himself, he was crushing hard on his twenty-eight-year-old partner. Brown clearly liked and respected him but there was no indication that her feelings went beyond friendship.

  Oh well, he could always dream.

  They were currently making their way through the city’s largest park. An oasis of green in the asphalt jungle, the park was a haven for families during the daylight hours. It attracted a slightly shadier crowd once the sun set. There had been a recent string of muggings in the park, and the department had beefed up the police presence.

  Semele felt bored, cold, and hungry for some action. He had downed a double espresso only an hour ago but the caffeine was failing to keep him awake. He yawned and hoped his partner wouldn’t notice. Brown showed no signs of exhaustion. Her alert eyes combed the shadowy shrubbery and tree-lined pathways, completely in her element. Pity the poor thief or street hustler who was on the prowl tonight.

  They passed an abandoned dog park and made their way down a pathway that cut through a large lawn dotted with trees and benches. During the daytime hours, this area would be bustling with life and laughter, but now it was eerily silent. The pale light of the moon carved patches of light from the dark surroundings. The two cops patrolled in silence, comfortable enough with each other after months of walking a beat together to not disrupt the silence with idle chatter. Muted traffic sounds drifted from beyond the swaying trees. It might be just past four o’clock, but the city was already stirring to life for a new day.

  Reassured that no shady dealings were going down in the heart of the park, they circled back to their cruiser. After a few minutes, Cara Brown elbowed him. Semele turned toward her, and she pointed at the shadowy figure slumped on the park bench in front of them.

  Semele’s first thought was that they were looking at a passed-out bum. Wouldn’t be the first. Nevertheless, he reached for his service revolver as he approached the bench, guard up, expression alert. Brown took the lead but didn’t draw her weapon. She once told him that pointing a gun at someone was never the best way to open a dialogue with a suspect. Semele wished he could be that brave. He needed the reassuring weight of his service revolver in a situation such as this.

  Brown drew nearer and said, “Sir, I’m sorry but you can’t be in the park after hours.”

  The figure on the bench moved slightly. He had heard her but offered no reply.

  “Sir, are you intoxicated or under the influence of narcotics?” Brown asked. “Can you understand what I’m saying?”

  The figure made a sudden sound which sent a shiver up Semele’s spine. It almost sounded like the shadow-cloaked stranger was laughing, but the sound was…wrong. Unnatural.

  Before Semele could make sense of what was happening, he heard a whooshing sound. As the mystery object cut through the air, he whirled, gun out.

  His eyes scanned the darkness while the stranger’s laughter continued to build. There was nothing friendly about the guttural sound. It felt like a chainsaw buzzing to life, filling the air with a growing air of menace.

  “Sir, please stand up slowly.”

  “I would do anything for you, Officer Brown,” the stranger said. How did the man know his partner’s name, Semele wondered, his stomach churning.

  His eyes widened as the man rose before them, moonlight finding the bleached skull previously hidden by a black hood.

  Impossible. It had to be a mask.

  Two things happened at once. The strange whooshing sound repeated itself, and something heavy slammed into Semele’s shoulders. The impact knocked him forward, and he fell head first into the grass. A second object dive-bombed into him before he could get up.

  Stunned, he looked up and registered a sight he would not forget for the rest of his days. With horror, he realized he was looking up at three skulls circling above him. They gave off a reddish glow, filled with preternatural life.

  Sarah! Where was Officer Brown?

  Thoughts of his own safety gave way to a concern for his partner. Semele tore his gaze from the flying skulls. Sarah Brown stood frozen before the hooded skull man, her firearm still in its holster. Before she could reach for her service revolver, the skull man jumped into action.

  The beast lunged toward her, moving with a superhuman grace. “No! Don’t…” Semele yelled, the words dying on his lips as the skull-faced stranger barreled toward Officer Sarah Brown. There was a flash of light and the bone-faced stranger produced a large, double-sided axe. The axe heads crackled with a strange energy which painted red-blue shadows in the park.

  Semele cried out in terror as the axe sliced through the air and found Brown’s lovely neck. To his amazement, the spectral axe head passed through Brown’s neck without severing her head. Instead her head collapsed in on itself and shriveled up like a punctured balloon. Her beautiful, kind face transformed into a fleshy mask of loose tissue. It was as if the bone-faced stranger’s axe had absorbed her skull.

  This isn’t happ
ening. Dear God, this can’t be real.

  The skull man turned toward him. The air hummed with movement and a fourth skull joined the first three. Somehow he knew that one of those skulls belonged to his dead partner. For an eternal moment, the four skulls hung suspended in the air, subservient to their master.

  Turning away from Brown’s lifeless body, the monster merged with the encroaching shadows, the four flying skulls trailing him like a grisly posse from Hell.

  Semele’s horrified gaze fixed on his dead partner. He crawled toward her. As he palmed his mike and called for backup, his eyes swept the scene. In the glow of the moonlight, he clearly made out the one-word message the killer had carved into the bench’s wooden surface.

  Temperantia.

  Officer Semele didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t know that a serial killer was targeting people because they represented the seven heavenly virtues. All he knew was that his partner was gone. And that the city had lost one of its best and brightest officers.

  7

  My eyes snapped open and took in a wild mane of dirty blonde hair spilling over a tattooed, svelte, and very naked woman. The sheet draped across her revealed more than it kept hidden. It took me a second to realize that I was nude myself, my limbs entangled with the beautiful bartender from last night. Judging by my sore muscles and the scratches on my back, not to mention the taste of cheap perfume and even cheaper booze on my lips, interesting things had unfolded after the lights went out.

  The problem was that I remembered none of it.

  “Isn’t she an angel?”

  I looked up at Cyon, who was looming at the foot of the bed, grinning ear to ear. His eyes sparkled as he added, “But a real devil between the sheets.”

  I could only stare at the demon as I began to wrap my sleep-addled brain around what had happened. Cyon hijacked my body and mind last night. He had taken this woman to bed for his own pleasure, using my body to do it.