by N M Thorn
Damian chuckled, thinking that his companion sounded like a teenager. “How old are you?” he asked, staring straight ahead.
“Twenty-five. Why?”
“No reason, just curious.” Damian glanced at him, unable to hold a smile. “You have a lot to learn. Have you ever considered the Archmage’s offer to join their academy?”
“No,” replied Jamie, his expression closing up. “After being a guard at the Guardians HQ for a few years, I’m not sure I want any part of it.” He thought for a moment and then added, “Although, I must admit, Quinn Allerton is the best Archmage I’ve seen. He’s a good man, you know?”
“Maybe,” said Damian softly. “But recently someone told me that in the World of Magic, there is always someone who yanks your leash. I know perfectly well who holds the Archmage’s leash, and I don’t want to have anything to do with them.”
Jamie didn’t reply, and for a while, they drove in silence, Damian focusing on the road, squeezing the maximum speed out of the powerful V-8 engine.
“Damian, would you teach me magic?” asked Jamie, fidgeting awkwardly with the Guardians pendant he wore on the long silver chain.
“You want me to teach you magic,” repeated Damian, his eyebrows rising. “I specialize in combat magic, Jamie. I’m not sure I’m the right person to teach you.”
“Combat magic is the only thing I want to learn,” replied the young man, all color draining from his cheeks, making him look tired and older.
Damian glanced at him and nodded. “Let’s get back to this conversation after we clear the mess in Paradise Manor.”
He stopped talking, his mind returning back to the problem at hand. The short message his brother had left partially explained why Mara was trying to scare River out of her home and why all previous owners of Paradise Manor were dead. If you can’t scare them away—kill ‘em all. Once all the owners of the house are gone, Mara will be free to enter the building and get whatever she is after.
The last message River left for him played in his mind, and he swallowed hard—Jesse. Had she been able to reach him since everyone else was unavailable? And what kind of consequences would that have in the grand scheme of things? He wasn’t sure how and why, but he was positive Jesse was playing some kind of role in this situation.
Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached for his phone and dialed River’s phone number again. The call went straight to her voicemail. He tried Cole and Sam with the same result.
“Jamie,” he said at length. “What do you know about Jesse Williams?”
“Jesse Williams?” Jamie turned slightly in his seat, his jaw dropped. “Why? Nothing special. Wasn’t he River’s late husband’s partner?”
“Yes. He’s River’s partner now,” replied Damian. “Is there anything noteworthy about him or his family?”
Jamie shrugged. “Not that I know of, but we can stop by my house and look at my father’s research files. He has something on almost every family in Blue Creek.” He sighed, staring out the window wistfully. “I wished I paid more attention to his research while he was alive.”
“Human nature,” whispered Damian more to himself than to his young friend. “We take for granted what we have until it’s gone.” He thought for a moment and bit his lip. “I’m not sure I’m going to have time for the research when we get home. River left a couple of troubling messages. Cole Adams and Sam Vetrov are missing. I’ll drop you off at home and go straight to Paradise Manor. If you could look into Jesse’s background, I would greatly appreciate it.”
“Cole Adams is missing again?” he asked, but then frowned, massaging his shoulder under the sling. “No problem. I’ll go through my father’s records and call you as soon as I know anything.”
It was close to eight the following evening when Damian drove through downtown Blue Creek and stopped the car in front of Sam’s shop. Even without walking inside, he felt something wasn’t right. The light scent of sulfur lingered in the air—a sure signature of a demonic presence, and the alarm system was off. Sam never left his shop without arming the alarm system first.
Damian pulled on the door handle, and the door opened up easily. He didn’t walk inside. One look was enough for him to understand what had happened here. Everything inside the shop was misplaced, overturned or broken. The stench of sulfur was a lot heavier here, and the barely noticeable presence of vampiric energy completed the picture.
Vampires working with demons? Damian asked himself, backing away from the shop. Does Sam’s disappearance have anything to do with Cole missing?
He walked around the car and dropped into the driver’s seat. “Jamie, we need to move quickly. I think Sam and Cole are in serious trouble.” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “Heaven and Earth! I can’t be in two places at once.”
Following Jamie’s directions, he drove the car through the old-west district and parked it in front of a small, one-story house on the outskirts of town. Jamie walked out of the car but then turned back and bent down, looking at Damian with concern.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stop by for a few minutes?” he asked, leaning on the car door with his healthy arm. “You drove over eighteen hours straight at a crazy speed without taking a break and barely eating anything.” Jamie smiled with a guilty shrug. “Honestly, man, you look like the walking dead. I’ll get you something to eat while I check my father’s notes. It’s not going to take long. Trust me, you need a break.”
“What he needs is to put his big girl pants on and man up.” A high, girlish voice sounded behind Jamie, making him jerk upright and hiss in pain.
“Who the hell are you?” yelled Jamie, massaging his shoulder.
A young woman slipped by him and dropped onto the passenger seat, completely ignoring his question. Turning to Damian, she whipped out a Desert Eagle that looked too big for her hands.
Resting the pistol against her shoulder, she said in a gruff voice, “Come with me if you want your brother to live.”
Chapter 30
~ Cole Adams ~
“Rise and shine, lover.”
A slap across his face brought him out of unconsciousness and submerged him under an ocean of pain as liquid silver continued to circulate through his veins. Cole moaned and cracked his eyelids open, staring at something dark and shapeless. His shoulders ached, and even without looking, he knew he was tied up to something, his arms spread wide apart. He recognized the burning touch of silver to his bare skin and shifted, pulling weakly at his restraints.
Making an effort, he lifted his head and blinked a few times, adjusting his blurred vision. As he expected, he was tied up to a tall wooden cross nailed to a wall. An area of about ten feet by ten feet was isolated by a heavy, dark curtain obscuring the rest of the room. Judging by the black marble tiles with golden inclusions, he was in the Queen’s mansion in the small chamber she used for her Council meetings. A strong presence of vampiric essence drifted around him, and even though he couldn’t see them, he was positive the place was full of vampires.
Roxana stood a few feet away from him with her hands planted on her hips, her foot in a high-heeled, elegant shoe tapping the floor impatiently. She stared at him with a mix of scorn and lust in her dark eyes, and he couldn’t help but wonder how this woman could experience such opposite emotions toward him at the same time.
“Roxana,” he croaked, barely able to move his lips. “What did I do wrong now?”
She snickered and sauntered toward him, looking like a cat who had just found an open door into the canary cage. Her thick, long braids slithered down her shoulders, resembling two carnivorous serpents, moving and swiping with every step she took. Exotic, sensual and beautiful, she halted in front of him, her foggy eyes gliding up and down his unobstructed torso. He groaned, struggling to clear his mind affected by the silver so he could keep up with her deadly games.
“I guess we’re about to find out,” she whispered, running her hand through his curls. “But before we get to business, I’l
l give you one last chance to come clean and confess.”
He smirked. “Confess? About what exactly?”
She stared at him, and if looks could kill, he would’ve been a pile of ash at her feet.
“I’ve been told there is something you’re not telling me, lover,” she hissed, her eyes igniting with a deep, scarlet glow. “I’m giving you the last chance to confess and beg for your life. Do what I say, and I’ll let you live.” She took one more step, her burning eyes only inches away from his. “Right there”—she waved at the curtain behind her without breaking eye contact—“the entire Arizona Vampire Court has assembled. Anyone who matters, at least. So, make your choice wisely, my love. You either tell me the truth now, and then I’ll decide in private what to do with you, or you’ll be forced to confess in front of everybody, and then you’ll be executed as a traitor, anyway.”
Cole searched her unblinking eyes, reading his death warrant there, or perhaps something even worse than death.
“I have nothing to confess, my Queen,” he replied firmly. “Whatever you think I’m guilty of, I’m innocent. I have always been loyal to you and the Arizona Court, so if you want to kill me, I’m yours to do as you please.” He smirked faintly and bowed his head to his chest.
Roxana threw her arms up, an almost desperate look crossing her features. She approached him and cupped his face with her hands.
“Look at me, my Russian warrior,” she demanded, forcing his head up. “I enjoy you alive a lot more than dead. But if there is something, anything at all, you’re hiding from me, now would be a good time to confess...” Her voice cut off, and she glanced over her shoulder. “Whatever will happen out there is out of my hands, and the people who are going to question you are not going to be as gentle as I am. Do you understand me?”
He nodded, jerking his face to the side and out of her grip. “Do as you wish. I have nothing to tell you.”
She cursed in an old language he didn’t recognize, and her fangs expanded, betraying her boiling fury.
“It’s hard to find a good lover, but I have to say my position and life are a lot more important to me than your well-being.” Roxana shrugged and pivoted on her heels. She approached the curtain and yanked it open on the front.
Bright lights of electric lamps hit his eyes, blinding him for a moment, and he had to drop his head and blink a few times to chase away the white spots dancing in his vision. Soft whispers and gasps invaded his ears, and he raised his face, observing a large group of vampires in front of him.
He knew them all. Most of them were the Queen’s supporters and the members of her Court Council. However, there was a small group of vampires who he knew for sure belonged to her opposition, and that struck him as weird. As soon as he lifted his head, they stopped whispering and stared at him without blinking—some gloating at his desperate situation, some with regret.
An unfamiliar tall man with long, blond hair tied into a low ponytail on the back of his head approached Cole and halted a few feet away, cocking his head. A woman, small and willowy, stopped next to the man, encircling his waist with her delicate arm. He placed his hand on her shoulder possessively, pulling her closer to his side. His frosty blue eyes lingered on her for a moment, warming up slightly, before turning to Cole.
“Is that him, Mara?” he asked, his voice, deep and raspy, bouncing against the tall ceiling. The magical energy field spiked around him as he wrapped his power around Cole, and a wave of freezing air rushed through the room.
Mara? The Slavic goddess of Nightmares? Cole froze, unable to take his eyes off the small woman with long black hair. That would make him... Morok... Damn, just like the Zerkalitsa said—two gods... Cole swallowed hard, pressing his back against the rough surface of the wooden cross he was attached to.
Mara approached him, the weightless fabric of her dress flowing behind her in soft waves. She seized his chin with her fingers, raising his face, and peered into his eyes.
“You’re not nearly as intimidating as your terrifying brother is,” she murmured. Then she glanced at Roxana and smirked. “I can see why you like him, Roxana. He’s cute in that”—she huffed, her lips curving in disdain, and rolled her eyes—“undead way.”
“His brother?” asked the Queen, frowning. Approaching them, she pushed Mara’s hand down, positioning herself between Cole and the goddess. “What are you talking about?”
“Mr. Cole Adams,” purred Mara, pronouncing one word at a time as if savoring his name on her tongue, and her derisive smirk became darker and more sinister. “You naughty, naughty boy. Have you been lying to your Queen, little vampire?” She laughed out loud, glancing at Morok over her shoulder. “Would you like to tell Her Undead Majesty the truth or should I do it for you?”
Roxana turned around, her scarlet eyes bursting with undiluted fury. “What is she talking about?” she growled, her well-manicured fingers turning into claws. She seized his neck, her nails digging deep into his flesh.
Cole lifted his chin, looking down at her icily. “She’s talking about my biological brother, my lady,” he replied calmly, making a split-second decision to stick to the truth as close as possible. “What she forgot to mention was that I haven’t seen him for over a thousand years, and until a few days ago, I had no idea he was alive. I have nothing in common with him, and I’m loyal to you only, my Queen.”
Mara gave him an arched stare, and her melodious laughter rang through the room. “Are you now?” she asked, flicking her eyebrow at him. “So, why don’t you tell the Queen and her councilmen your brother’s name and his true nature.”
“Cole,” growled Roxana warningly, blood escaping from where her claws pierced his skin. “Who’s your brother, and why did I know nothing about you having a brother in the first place.”
Cole averted his gaze, trying to look as shameful as he could muster. “Because...” He let his voice trail off and swallowed as if fighting nausea. “My brother’s name is Damian Blake, and he’s a hunter.”
“Not just any hunter, is he?” purred Mara. Maneuvering around Roxana, she made her way closer to Cole. She grabbed one of the silver chains and pressed it to his ribs, ripping a hiss of pain out of Cole’s lips. “Don’t stop now, when it’s just starting to get entertaining.”
“He’s the one we call the Shadow Slayer,” groaned Cole, shifting in his restraints to get away from Mara’s touch.
A collective gasp was the response to his words. Roxana let go of his neck and backed away from him, her lip lifting in a furious snarl.
“All this time, you lied to me?” she hissed, squeezing her hands into fists.
“No, I didn’t,” he replied calmly. “I did as I’d been told, my lady. I used our relation to get the information you needed. I told you the truth. The Shadow Slayer didn’t move to Arizona to go after your Court. He was looking for a clean slate.”
Mara made an impatient gesture, pushing Roxana away. “I don’t care why he moved here,” she muttered. “Damian Blake is in my way, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to get him out of the picture.”
Cole stared at her for a moment and burst out laughing despite the pain surging through his body with every move he made.
“You seriously think that if you hold me hostage, Damian Blake will give in to your demands?” He shook his head, a tear of laughter running down his pale cheek. “It tells me you know nothing about my brother. He hates vampires. The only reason he lets me live is that I once was his brother. He doesn’t mind me hanging around for old times’ sake, but that’s as far as it goes.” He cut his laughter off abruptly, pulling against his silver restraints. “He is the Shadow Slayer. Killing vampires is what he does.”
Mara tilted her head, a sinister smirk playing on her lips. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re nothing but loyal to your Queen. Is that right, Cole Adams?”
Cole turned to Roxana, gazing calmly at her. “My Queen, I swear I’m loyal to you. If you untie me, I’ll bend my knee before you and swear on my sword.”
Roxana and Mara exchanged a look, and the Queen flicked her wrist, gesturing for the goddess to proceed. Morok approached the curtain and yanked it to the side, exposing a tall cage.
Inside the cage, an older man was down on his knees. His arms were twisted behind his back and bound together with thick rope. A metal collar shone dimly on his neck, and a heavy chain connected it with the top of the cage. His silver-gray hair smeared with brown stains of blood fell forward, but even without seeing his face, Cole knew who he was. Despite the effort to remain calm, he froze in place, unable to take his eyes off the man in the cage.
Mara chuckled. “I see you recognized him, Cole,” she purred. Approaching the cage, she pushed her hand between the bars and seized the man’s hair, yanking his head up. “Great Court, allow me to make the introduction.” Her black, venomous eyes slipped from one face to the next, finally halting on Cole. “This is Sam Vetrov, an old hunter who killed his fair share of vampires over the course of his short human life.”
Whispers morphed into a continuous hiss, a general vibe of anger and animosity poisoning the air. Mara raised her hand, asking for silence, then she turned to Cole and a long knife shining with the reflected light of electric lamps materialized in her hand.
“Just a moment ago, Cole Adams swore his loyalty to his Queen and to this Court,” she said, making a wide gesture with her hand. “Great Court, I believe it would be only fair if I asked Cole to prove his loyalty before all of you.”
The vampires exchanged heavy looks but didn’t say anything, staring at the Queen.
“Proceed,” hissed Roxana with an indifferent flick of her wrist, but her shoulders tensed with anger.
Mara approached Cole, twirling the knife between her fingers. “Cole, I’m going to untie you in a moment,” she said, scorn dripping from her every word. “All you have to do is kill the old hunter, and you’re free to live your life.”