The Shadow Enforcer: The Shadow Enforcer Series Book One

by N M Thorn

  Damian cocked his head, and a tiny lopsided smile appeared on his face before he could stop it as understanding dawned on him.

  “I see,” she said dryly and nodded to Morok. “Plan B it is.”

  Damian stiffened, his eyes darting from his brother to River and then to Jesse. Fighting the resistance of Mara’s spell, he folded his arms over his chest, planting his legs firmly on the floor.

  “You’re not going to blackmail me, Mara,” he said icily. “You’re also not going to pull a trick on me like you pulled on Cole. You can torture me all you want. Neither physical nor mental pain will force me to submit to you.”

  “Sweetie, you’re drained. I made sure that you’d use every scrap of your limited magic just to get here. You can’t fight us. You can’t resist our magic.” She waved her hand to Morok. “You’re talking the talk, but let’s see if you can walk the walk.”

  The god of Lies seized Cole’s neck and threw him to the floor, eliciting a furious hiss out of him. Holding his head down, he snatched the blade from the air and raised it, positioning it above Cole’s neck.

  “Are you ready to lose your bother?” asked Morok icily, and a wave of a winter breeze rushed through the room, ruffling Cole’s blond curls. “Keep in mind, once I kill him, your charge”—he waved at River, a vibe of aggravation lingering over him—“will be next.” He threw an arrogant stare at Jesse, his lips curling in distaste. “And this worthless worm will follow soon after.”

  “Damian, please,” moaned Jesse, “do what they want. I don’t care about myself. Do it to save River.”

  Cole looked up, and a dark smile split his face, exposing his fangs. He gave Damian a tiny nod and said just two words, “Brother mine.”

  Unimaginable pain twisted everything inside him as Damian understood his brother’s message. Cole gave him permission to kill him or do whatever needed to be done. Making a split-second decision, he gathered every scrap of magical energy he had in his drained body and slammed his hand over the Guardians rune embedded into his shoulder, sending some of his magic through it.

  “Magnus!” he roared, hopelessness and finality of his decision tightening his throat. “I summon thee, and if I’ve ever needed you to answer my summons, it’s today, you heartless son of a bitch!”

  A brilliant, white light engulfed the room, and thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. A tight hold of magical energy, stronger than the energy of the dark deities, surrounded him, lifting him off the floor, and everything disappeared into blinding whiteness.

  Chapter 35

  ~ Damian Blake ~

  “Hello, my child.” A deep male voice rumbled over his head, sounding almost as chilly as Morok’s winter magic.

  Damian opened his eyes and saw a pair of perfectly polished white shoes next to his face. With a low groan, he scrambled to his feet and straightened his shoulders, gazing down at a man in a long, white robe standing in front of him. A tired smile crossed the man’s face, and his unnerving silvery-white eyes slipped up and down Damian’s body as if sizing him up.

  “Magnus,” said Damian with forced calm, locking and unlocking his fingers.

  “Dmitri Chernov. Pray tell you had a good reason to summon me,” said Magnus, separating his robe on the front to shove his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Or should I call you Damian Blake, by the way? I believe that’s the name you’re going by nowadays?”

  “Call me whatever you want,” said Damian, looking to the side to avoid Magnus’ blazing eyes. “Just help me to...” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed, a painful wrinkle materializing between his eyebrows.

  “Oh?” Magnus rose on his tiptoes slightly. “Now, you want my help?”

  “Yes,” replied Damian through gritted teeth, every word coming to him with an effort. He averted his gaze, staring down at his hands with skinned knuckles. “My lord.”

  “Oh, wow, Dmitri.” Magnus narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “You must be truly desperate since you called me ‘my lord’.”

  “Magnus, please,” whispered Damian, lowering his head. “After all this is over, you can summon me here and kill me with your never-dying sarcasm all you want. But time is of the essence now—”

  “Here, time means nothing. When I brought you here, I stopped the flow of time in the realm of humans,” said Magnus, “so we could talk uninterrupted and without hurry.” He shoved his hands back in the pockets of his pants, rocking back and forth on his feet slightly. “Centuries ago, you fought to be released, and I’ve given you the freedom you desired so deeply, even though demands like that had never been granted before. What do you want from me now?”

  “I need my power back. My full power.” Damian raised his eyes, meeting Magnus’ steady gaze.

  “Why?” asked Magnus dryly. “To save that brother of yours who killed more people than you can count?”

  “You mean my brother who has a Destiny Enforcer in training shadowing him? Your Destiny Enforcer?” retorted Damian, unable to contain his sarcasm. But then he raised his hands peacefully. “I would love to save my brother, Magnus, but he’s not the reason I’m here now. Two dark Slavic deities are trying to access something that’s hidden under Paradise Manor—the location once protected by the Guardians Order. Without my full power, I stand no chance of stopping them. I’m sure whatever the Guardians have been protecting there for a few generations has some kind of importance to the Destiny Council?”

  “The enchanted lake.” Magnus nodded, rubbing his chin. “Oh yes, my child. It’s very important. All they have to do is walk into this lake to break all the curses and ascend to their full power.” He smiled calmly, cocking his head. “But I still have to ask you, what are you willing to give up in order to get what you need to stop them.”

  Damian smirked, fighting a losing war with resentment. An image of Cole with a blade at his neck and River unconscious on the floor flashed in his mind, and he took a deep breath, suppressing his anger.

  “Everything,” he said quietly. “What I don’t understand is why you’re demanding a sacrifice from me when it’s in your interests to stop Morok and Mara from ascending.”

  “When the time comes, you’ll understand.”

  I hate the Destiny Council...

  “Oh, I know that. You hate the Destiny Council, Dmitri.” Magnus chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. “Anyway, let’s get to business. Holding time still is not easy, even for me. I need you to prove your willingness.”

  “How?”

  “You know how,” Magnus said and raised his hand to stop Damian from talking. “I know—you don’t bow, and you kneel before no one. This is why I want to see you do that.”

  Damian clenched his hands into fists, staring at the white ceiling, his chest rising and falling with strenuous breaths. Then he bowed his head and slowly lowered to one knee, pressing his fist over his heart.

  “My lord,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper, his insides burning with indignation. “I’m yours to command.”

  Magnus approached Damian and gently brushed his hair off his face, exposing the scar.

  “Hmm,” he murmured, lifting his face. “I think after all is said and done, I’ll leave this scar and the ones on your back, too. I want you to have this constant reminder of all your failures, Dmitri.” He stepped away, smirking, but his smirk wasn’t sarcastic or arrogant—only sadness reflected his silvery eyes. “Yeah, I know everything you’ve been through after you gave up your power and assumed the no one status.”

  “You’re not supposed to be watching me, Magnus,” growled Damian, raking his fingers over his hair to bring it down. “That’s the point of the no one status—the Destiny Council and their agencies are not supposed to have any records of my existence.”

  “Oh, they don’t.” Magnus waved his hand dismissively. “It was me personally. Sorry, Dmitri. You’re right. I wasn’t supposed to follow you, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to make sure—” He cut himself off and raised his hand, ready to snap his fingers. “Stay down.
I’ll be right back.”

  He vanished, leaving Damian on his knees. A few minutes later, a hidden door at the opposite end of the room opened up, and a tall man dressed in a dark tactical uniform walked in. He halted for a moment, his face alight with happiness. Then he crossed the room in a few strides and dropped to his knees in front of Damian.

  “Dima,” he muttered, stretching his hand to him. “You’re alive. You’re back. I thought I’d never—” His voice broke off, and his black eyebrows pulled down over his striking blue eyes.

  “Cossack,” Damian whispered, staring at his old friend in shock. “But how? Why are you here?”

  His friend’s real name was Adrian, but since by birth he was a Zaporozhian Cossack, Damian had called him that since the first time Adrian arrived at the Destiny Council training facility, and somehow, the nickname stuck.

  “Magnus sent me,” Cossack replied, his raspy voice hoarser than usual. “He said he wanted me to get you ready for the ascension. Is that true, Dima? Are you coming back?”

  Damian nodded. “I have to. I have no choice.”

  “I’m sorry, my friend, but I’m just happy to see you.” Cossack got up and jerked his hand through his black, curly hair uncomfortably. “You know what I have to do, right?”

  “I know. Do it.” Damian spread his arms wide, his fingers clenched into tight fists.

  Cossack whispered a quick spell, touching his hands, and heavy manacles materialized on Damian’s wrists, thick iron chains restraining him between two walls. Damian grunted, unlocking his fingers. Then in one move, Cossack ripped his half-torn shirt off, throwing it to the floor next to him.

  “I’ll be with you all the way to the end, my friend,” promised Cossack, his fingers squeezing Damian’s arm.

  He stepped back and drew a rune in the air, using his magical energy. Pressing his palm against it, he whispered a summoning spell. Before he finished his summons, Magnus materialized next to him. He approached Damian and touched his shoulder.

  “Are you ready, my child?” he asked, a hint of a smile in his pale eyes.

  “Yes, my lord,” replied Damian, bracing for pain.

  Magnus closed his eyes and raised his arms, wielding his power. His entire body lit up with a brilliant, white light. Damian groaned, dropping his head, and immediately felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.

  “Dima, it’s about to start.” He heard Cossack’s words and nodded, taking short, uneven breaths.

  The words of Magnus’ enchantment became louder, and his light turned so bright that Damian could barely tolerate it even with his eyes shut. A powerful wave of heat surged through his body, settling somewhere in his chest, burning him from the inside. A growl rumbled in his throat, and tears escaped from under his eyelids. The burning in his chest became stronger, and soon he could no longer endure the pain.

  Throwing his head back, he screamed, and every muscle in his body strained to the point he was afraid his bones would snap. He pulled against his restraints as the pain intensified. The walls shook, and thick cracks ran away from the brackets holding the chains.

  “Dima, almost over, hang in there...”

  Cossack’s voice sounded somewhere on the outskirts of his mind, frazzled by the liquid torment flowing through his body, gathering somewhere in his spine. He screamed again, leaning back as far as the chains would allow him, feeling as if the muscles and the bones in his back were shifting and rearranging themselves.

  The relief came suddenly, leaving him hanging limply in his restraints, sweat dripping off his face, running down his back.

  “Adrian, remove the chains,” Magnus shouted the command somewhere above Damian’s head. “Dmitri, open your eyes, my boy.”

  Magnus lifted Damian’s face, gently slapping his cheek. The pressure of the chains disappeared, and he was finally able to lower his arms. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, everything around him blurry.

  Magnus exhaled, relief suffusing his features. He placed his hand on top of Damian’s head, channeling his magic through him. “Rise, Commander Damian Blake.”

  As the powerful magical energy of the Head of the Destiny Council surged through him, Damian got up to his feet and opened his arms wide, enjoying the sensation of his full power soaring through his body. Two giant black wings expanded behind his back, lifting him off the ground slightly. He threw his head back and screamed in joy, a brilliant white light almost as bright as that of Magnus himself exploding around him.

  A second later, Damian lowered to the floor, getting his power under control. His wings folded and disappeared, and he kneeled before Magnus, pressing his hand to his chest.

  “My lord,” he whispered, his vocal cords painfully sore. “I’m yours to command, but please let me finish my work at Paradise Manor first. Mara and Morok must be stopped.”

  “Of course, my boy,” mumbled Magnus, pulling him up. “Once you’re done, though, I expect you to come back here. We must have a serious conversation.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” replied Damian, his stomach twisting at the salutation he hated so much.

  “Dima, if you need my help, you know how to summon me,” said Cossack, a wide smile gracing his features, framing his eyes in a set of crow’s feet.

  Magnus waved his hand, and a portal shimmering with rotating blue sparkles opened up next to Damian. “Go do your job, Commander,” he said calmly. “I expect to see you back with a report soon. Godspeed.”

  Damian nodded and walked through the portal.

  Chapter 36

  ~ Damian Blake ~

  As soon as Damian stepped through the portal, time resumed its flow at full speed, but to him, it felt like it was moving a lot faster than normal. Disoriented by the blinding light Magnus’ spell had produced when Damian summoned him, both Morok and Mara had lost their concentration. This short moment had been enough for Cole to break through the hold of their spell.

  With blinding speed, the vampire twisted out of Morok’s hold and disarmed him. With a sword in his hand, he moved into a full-frontal attack, positioning himself between the god and River. Morok roared, fury distorting his face. The dark fumes of his power rose around him, and the entire building shook slightly, responding to the god’s anger. He met Cole’s sword with his blade, sparks flying as metal hit metal.

  Morok pushed up and forward, endeavoring to disarm Cole, but the vampire stood his ground, his feet planted firmly against the floor. For a moment, they both stilled, neither of them able to move their opponent, their glowing eyes burning each other with hatred.

  Mara screeched furiously, rising a few feet in the air, and moved her arms up, channeling her powers. A dark mist gathered between her arms. With diabolical laughter, she started to spin it. Faster and faster, it rotated, spreading the suffocating miasmas of dark magical energy. Jesse, who was still kneeling at Mara’s feet, screamed, his face a mask of terror, his dark eyes overflowing with fear staring blindly into nowhere. She cackled, and thick tentacles sprouted out of the dark cloud she was wielding, wrapping around Jesse. He stopped screaming and dropped his arms, hanging lifelessly within the hold of Mara’s spell.

  Morok roared, increasing his pressure on Cole’s sword, now pushing the vampire back. Cole responded with a terrifying growl as he placed all the strength he had into holding his position. Suddenly, Morok let go and pulled back, making Cole stagger forward. He didn’t fall, but Morok threw his hand forward, striking him with a burst of dark energy. A howl of pain erupted from Cole’s lips as he collapsed, pressing his hand to his stomach, dark blood spilling between his fingers.

  River regained consciousness while no one was paying attention to her and jolted to her feet, staring around wildly. Noticing Morok reaching for Cole, she drew her gun faster than any quick draw cowboy in a western movie would, emptying the entire magazine of her Glock into Morok’s head. An ear-splitting sound of gunshots broke through the pandemonium. The reek of gunpowder mixed in with the metallic odor of blood permeated the air. The god collapsed fla
t on his back, his body hitting the floor with a heavy thud, but his wounds started to heal immediately, pushing the bullets out of his skull.

  All these events took no longer than a few seconds as Damian watched in shock the battle unfolding in the secret room of Paradise Manor. The sound of gunshots ripped him out of a momentary stupor. Channeling his full power, he stepped forward, and the ground trembled with the terrible power he was wielding. His wings unfolded to their full extent, and his eyes lit up with a blinding orange light.

  He summoned his daggers and infused them with the light of Creation. As the weapons lit up in his hands, he brought his arm to his shoulder and propelled one of the daggers at Mara. The blade pierced her shoulder, pinning her to the wall.

  The goddess howled, anger and pain combined with her power swirling around her like a purple, stormy cloud. She seized the dagger, but as its magic burned her skin, she screeched louder and let go, struggling to set herself free, but to no avail. Damian approached her and seized her chin, his fingers crushing her face.

  “What are you?” she moaned, the purple light in her eyes dwindling down.

  “I am...” He laughed, throwing his head back, the sound of his laughter terrifying even to his own ears, as for the first time in years he realized he could answer this question. “I am your worst nightmare... No pun intended.”

  He smashed her head against the wall, crushing her skull. Brain matter and blood splattered the wall, but he didn’t even flinch, anger sweeping over him.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” he growled, observing Mara’s limp form with a dark smirk. He knew the goddess would heal in a few minutes, but it gave him a few minutes in which he didn’t need to worry about her.

  Turning around, he walked back to Morok, fury fueling his adrenalin and his power. The god rose to his feet, wiping blood off his eyes with his hand. As Damian approached him, his eyes swept over Damian’s wings and his glowing dagger, and he stepped backward, his shoulders stiff with rage. Moving as fast as his brother, Damian threw a short jab, infusing his hand with his power. His massive fist connecting with Morok’s chin, and the god staggered backward, barely able to keep his balance.