Born of Shadow (Shadow Walkers Book 1)

by Richard Murray

  Thousands of people, hitting the bars and clubs, the restaurants and takeout joints. A veritable orgy of fun and laughter that I had never experienced.

  By eighteen, I’d given up on ever being normal. My latest stint at the asylum had shown me that things would never improve. They did eventually, but at the time, I’d considered it hopeless. A lifetime of dead-end jobs in between bouncing in and out of the nut house.

  How could I ever keep a friend, let alone a lover? Evie, for all her compassion, would eventually have enough. She’d find someone and settle down, she wouldn’t have time for that crazy friend who constantly drew her away from the life she was building.

  No. I’d looked ahead and seen a lifetime of misery and pain and decided I wasn’t strong enough to take it. Beaten down by life and the horrors it contained, I’d left the waitressing job in the café without looking back. I’d gone home and prepared myself for the end.

  The blade I used was sharp enough. I’d placed it against my wrist and with one quick movement, I watched my life bleed out. I’d already cancelled my utilities, sent the last rent payment to my landlord and even left a note, apologising for the mess. I thought I’d had everything covered but hadn’t counted on my friend.

  Evie had never said why she’d decided to drop by. She had a key to my place, to every place I’d ever lived in fact, and had long since given up on knocking. So when she let herself in and saw me on the bed, she’d leapt into action.

  Instead of wasting time looking for something in my messy room, she’d stripped off her white blouse and wrapped it tightly around my wrist, staunching the flow of blood as I’d protested weakly. Holding it in place with one hand, she’d reached up and pressed down on the pressure point on the inside fold of my elbow. She’d explained later that doing so, slowed the flow of blood. Then she’d screamed at the top of her lungs for help until one of my neighbours heard and came looking.

  My stay in the nut house after that was for a little more than six months. Endless talking about why I had done it while pumping me full of drugs to keep me placid. When I was finally released, she was waiting for me.

  I could remember vividly the shame I’d felt at seeing her. As the memories rushed back of Evie finding me at my worst and of having once again, to save me. I’d been an endless burden to her and I prepared myself for the condemnation and the simple statement that it had been the last time. That it was time to part ways.

  Instead, she’d embraced me warmly as I sagged in her arms and the tears had threatened to come. She held me tightly and said, “You’re coming home with me.”

  Nothing could ever repay that kindness she did me. She’d taken me home and put her life on hold as she helped me rebuild mine. She’d pushed me to find a job, helped me set up a place to live when I was ready to do so and shown me more love and kindness than I had known since the night my parents had been murdered.

  That had been my last attempt. I’d decided that I would build a life to show her that I could. That I would live and prosper, because I refused to ever be a burden to her again. I’d tried. It’d been nearly two years since I’d been back to the asylum and things had finally been looking up. Then, two weeks ago, a werewolf had attacked me and my world had changed.

  Now, I thought as I looked at the woman driving. Now, I was headed to meet some other people just like me. Born from a union of demon and human, with powers that made us special. Powers we could use to help the Hunters find and kill the real monsters. To protect and help people. That, I realised, was something I really wanted to be able to do. To help them as Evie had so often helped me.

  “Looks like they’re in,” Marie said as she pulled up alongside a terraced house and peered through the window before looking across at me. “You ready to meet some friends?”

  “Yes,” I said softly. “I think I am.”

  Chapter 7

  The door opened as we approached up the short path through the garden and a giant stood there, a warm smile on his face. He must have been approaching seven feet in height and had the broad shoulders and rippling musculature that reminded me of the drawings of Hercules or Thor that I’d seen once.

  He wore jeans and a plain t-shirt as though they had been painted on and I could see every single muscle group moving beneath his skin as he lifted an arm in greeting. The shoulder length mousey blonde hair and square jaw were enough to weaken my knees a little. I was tempted to sneak a quick pic with my phone to send to Evie.

  “You’re just in time,” he said by way of greeting with a hint of an accent that I couldn’t quite place. “Jo’s just finishing getting ready.”

  “Excellent,” Marie said. “Now you be a good boy and go get the trunk from the boot.”

  “Happy to,” he said and smiled showing straight white teeth, removing any hope I had that he’d have some kind of physical imperfection.

  He gave me a quick appraising glance as he passed me, turning almost sideways to avoid knocking us from the path. A quick up and down with his eyes and the hint of an approving smile and he was past.

  “Is he… you know?”

  “Plenty of time for that dear,” Marie said as she gestured for me to enter the house.

  I held back on the eye roll and wished just once that I’d be given a straight answer. Heck, that I’d be given any type of answer.

  Once inside I exhaled softly and held my mouth firmly closed. I seemed destined to be constantly reminded of how crappy my little bedsit was, and that everyone else seemingly had a great deal more money than me.

  The house was tastefully decorated in natural colours that seemed to highlight the artfully placed furnishings. There were high ceilings and wide windows that would allow in light and warmth during the day.

  A stand beside the door had several coats on it, while the shoe rack beside it held men and women’s shoes and trainers.

  Marie kicked off her own shoes and placed them on the rack and indicated I should do the same. My tattered trainers looked out of place and I couldn’t help but notice the socks I had chosen to wear had holes in.

  I followed the older woman along the hallway and into a sitting room. An enormous fireplace was set into the wall opposite the door, drawing the eye of any who would enter. Several long and incredibly comfortable sofas were arranged in a rough semi-circle around it.

  A stunning redheaded woman lounged on one of the sofas, an oversized t-shirt that I guessed belonged to the giant man was the only covering she had.

  She looked up from the book she was reading as we entered and a crease formed between her immaculately plucked eyebrows.

  “Marie,” she said, distaste dripping from the name as she spoke it.

  “Delilah,” the older woman said with more than a touch of venom in her own voice. “I thought you’d moved on.”

  “And leave all this?” she said as she stretched languidly and waved a hand that held a half-full wine glass at the room around her. “Why ever would I do that?”

  “Because you don’t serve any purpose dear,” Marie said.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” a voice replied and another woman entered the room. She was as tall as the red headed Delilah and moved with the lethal grace of a panther. Brown eyes regarded me warily as she crossed the room to lean down and share a brief, yet passionate kiss with the seated woman.

  “Children!” Marie said so quietly that I doubted anyone besides myself heard. She shook her head slightly as Jo finished her kiss and turned to face us.

  “Who’s the kid?” she asked and I bristled. She’s probably only a couple of years older than me herself.

  “Selena,” I said. “You can call me Lena.”

  “I’m Jo,” she said with a nod. Her tightly curled hair was cut almost as short as my own and for once I didn’t feel entirely out of place. “This is Delilah and… where’s Patrik?”

  The last question was directed at Marie who inclined her head towards the door as the man in question came into the room.
Once again he was forced to turn sideways to enter while carrying a large wooden case.

  Square and made of oak, stained with age and use. It bore many dents and scratches in its sides and ironwork was set at the edges. A large padlock held it secure and I realised it was almost exactly the same as the one I’d seen bolted to the floor of Abe’s van.

  “What’s this?” Jo asked as Patrik set the case down with a grunt.

  “Heavy,” he said. “That’s what it is.”

  “A gift,” Marie added. “From Peter and me.”

  Jo gave a curt nod of thanks as she took the key the older woman held up and slipped it into the padlock. It turned with a heavy click and she pulled it free before lifting the lid, her eyes widening in surprise.

  “Woah,” Patrik said as he looked inside. “These were yours?”

  “Once, long ago, yes.”

  He reached in and lifted out a large axe. A two-foot long wooden handle, carved with an intricate series of runes and sigils along its length, it had a curved head of silver with a vicious looking spike extending from the back of it.

  “This is mine,” he said as he gave it an experimental swing.

  “Keep it,” Jo said. She’d pulled out a sheathed dagger. The blade was perhaps a foot long and once again, made of shining silver. The handle was bone and the pommel, carved to resemble a wolf’s head.

  “That,” Marie said as she indicated the knife. “Belonged to my grandfather. He claimed he’d carved the handle from the bones of an ogre.”

  “Your grandfather?” I asked and she nodded.

  “My family have been hunters for generations,” she said. “Peter and Abraham were brought into the life through shared tragedy but I was born to it.”

  “As was I,” Jo said.

  “What about you?” I asked the big man who grimaced as he tested his thumb against the blade of the axe and drew blood.

  “You could say I was born to it,” he said with a grin.

  “Patrik is Shadowborn,” Marie said. “Like you.”

  "And you live here with a hunter?” I asked. Patrik looked at me appraisingly once again as though re-evaluating his earlier impression before he nodded.

  “Ja,” he said. “We make a good team.”

  “What exactly do you do?” I asked him since Jo was ignoring me for the moment as she pulled a number of items from the case and inspected them.

  “We kill monsters,” he said with a shrug as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

  “Help me get this stuff into the back room,” Jo said to her partner as she placed each of the items back in the case and stood up, brushing her hands together. “Then we’ll sit and have a talk.”

  “I’ll go and make some tea,” Marie said and followed the other two out the door leaving me alone with the red headed Delilah who watched me curiously.

  “Are you a hunter too?” I asked and she laughed.

  “Lord no!” she said. “I’m just here for Jo.”

  “Oh.”

  “In fact,” she continued as she rose to her feet and swallowed the last of her wine. “I think, I’ll leave you all to talk. I’m sure the conversation in here will be nothing less than dull.”

  “Aren’t you curious?”

  “About what?”

  “Well… me, I suppose. Whatever the talk will be about.”

  “Sweetie, there’s nothing about you that is in any way interesting to me,” Delilah said and walked from the room as I stared after her with my jaw hanging almost to my chest. Bitch!

  Jo and Patrik came back and gestured me to sit on one of the sofas. I took a seat with a rueful shake of the head at the ridiculousness of the whole situation and they settled down onto the opposite sofa.

  “How old are you?” Jo asked. Her voice was almost gentle and I had the impression of compassion from her. I couldn’t imagine what she saw in Delilah.

  “Twenty-one next month,” I said and she nodded, her eyes flicking towards the man.

  “You’ve just discovered your powers?” Patrik asked.

  “Literally today.”

  “What can you do?”

  “We’re not entirely sure dear,” Marie said as she bustled in with a tray full of mugs that steamed gently. “Perhaps we should start by explaining a few things to her before questioning, yes?”

  The hunter and Shadowborn both looked over to Marie in apparent surprise and then shared a look with each other that spoke volumes.

  “Okay,” Jo said as she took a mug from the tray. “Simplest way to start is to explain what we do.”

  “Kill monsters?” I said and received a smile in return from the other woman as Patrik laughed at my echoing of his earlier reply.

  “Something like that,” she agreed. “Most hunters out there work solo or occasionally with another hunter. We’re different.”

  “Ja,” Patrik agreed with a grin.

  I lifted a cup from the tray and Marie set it down on an end table before sitting beside the others. I couldn’t help but feel like I was in an interview and that if it didn’t go well, I wouldn’t just not get the job, I wouldn’t leave either.

  “How so?” I asked.

  “What do you know about hunters and the supernatural creatures?” she countered. I paused and then recounted the little I knew. She hadn’t asked about how I knew it, so I left out the part about my family.

  “Okay, so some supernatural races have… I’d like to say integrated, but it’s more like they’ve adapted to the modern world. They’ve learned how to survive without killing people, which means hunters leave them be.”

  “Usually because they don’t know about them,” Patrik added.

  “Yeah. Most hunters follow death reports, odd news items and the like,” Jo said. “We take a more proactive route.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Shadowborn, have a gift,” Patrik said. “We can see other Supernaturals.”

  “It means that we can find the ones that have learned to hide their feeding,” Jo said. “We don’t have to react when one is noticed. We can do what hunters should do and actually hunt the damn things.”

  “All supernaturals?” I asked with a sinking feeling.

  “The ones that kill humans,” Marie said. “Patrik can find them and then we observe. Once we are sure they are killing, then we stop them. Or rather Jo and Patrik do.”

  “Just the two of you?”

  “For this team, yes,” Marie said before the others could speak. “There are other teams that we finance, but Jo and Patrik are our best.”

  “You finance them?”

  “Of course,” she said with a wide smile. “This house is owned by Peter and me. We provide somewhere to live, equipment and a small stipend.”

  “Without it, we’d have to get jobs and that would limit what we could do,” Jo said with a tilt of her head towards the name emblazoned on my work shirt.

  “So what’s your goal?” I asked. “The elimination of all supernaturals?”

  “No,” Jo said with a shake of her head. “Only the ones that kill. We want to save people from them, more than anything else.”

  “Some don’t kill then?”

  “Most werewolf packs manage to keep to themselves, very few actually turn man-eater. I heard there was one in Leeds a couple of weeks ago and a hunter took it out. Some of the other supernaturals have found other uses for their talents too.”

  “Abraham killed it,” I said. “I was there.”

  “Really?” she said as her eyebrows rose. She looked surprised and thoughtful for a moment. “You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.”

  “Later,” Marie said and the other woman nodded acquiescence before turning her attention back to me.

  “Each of the teams set up by Peter and Marie are comprised of a Hunter and a Shadowborn,” Jo continued. “We work as a team and share the risks. The hunter usually focuses on the kill while the shadowborn is support.”
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br />   “What sort of support?” I asked and Patrik looked to Marie who nodded. He rose to his feet and closed his eyes.

  The room dimmed. I wasn’t sure how, the lights were still on and didn’t dim, but it seemed the world around the large man did, as though the shadows themselves were fighting to beat back the light.

  His eyes opened and he took three steps towards the fireplace where he picked up an iron poker from its stand and held it in his hands. His gaze was fixed on mine as he flexed those large muscles of his and seemingly effortlessly, twisted the poker almost in two.

  “My powers,” he said. “Allow me to enhance my strength and make my skin much harder.”

  “Harder?”

  “Yeah,” Jo said as she stood up and crossed to stand beside him. She lifted the twisted metal from his hands and swung it with all her strength to strike him in the jaw. He barely flinched.

  “How?” I asked. I knew I was gawking like a bumpkin fresh off the farm but it was hard to believe even though I’d just seen it with my own eyes.

  “Our gifts from our fathers,” Patrik said and I could practically feel the hatred and seething anger behind the word. “We can access them. Usually, to do so, we need to be using our negative emotions.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Hatred,” he said. “Anger, rage, jealousy, call it what you will. Demons are creatures of chaos and torment. That is what allows us to tap into their gifts.”

  My mind went back to when I’d used my own power. The anger I’d felt. No, not anger, the rage. I’d wanted to hurt the ghoul and had found the means to do so.

  “Can I do that then?” I asked. “Make myself stronger.”

  “Depends on your father,” Marie said. “Demons are associated with different aspects. One of our Shadowborn team members had a Tempesta for a father.”

  “A what?”

  “Storm demon,” Jo said. “Most of them were catalogued or translated from older documents when Latin was the written language. Their names are the ones we know.”