The Shadow Deception: The Shadow Enforcer Series Book Two

by N M Thorn

  “Damian?” The Alpha’s voice sounded tense across the line.

  “Hi, Hawk,” said Damian, unease twisting his insides into a tight knot.

  “I spoke with the rest of the Alphas,” continued Hawk. “Just like I expected—those who have always supported me throughout the years took my side. But a few pack masters with whom I’d never seen eye to eye didn’t care to listen to reason. Even after Kaleb told them about the attack on the sanctuary, they didn’t want to hear anything, hungry for revenge. I can’t hold them back, kid. No one can. Your brother better be watching his back twenty-four-seven. They’re coming for him.”

  He sighed. Something cracked on the other side, and the noise of heavy machinery invaded the line.

  “Thank you, Hawk,” said Damian. “You did what you could.”

  “What are you going to do?” the old Alpha asked, some warmth coloring his tensed voice. “You are a Destiny Enforcer, and whoever this asshole is, he broke the sanctuary law. From what I understand, that makes things a lot more complicated for you. Not only do you need to guard your brother, but also, it’s your direct responsibility to find this monster and cuff him. Am I right?”

  “Yes.”

  Hawk sighed, muttering something incoherent that sounded a lot like a colorful set of profanities. “You have your hands full, kid,” he said finally. “If there is anything I can do to help, let me know. Also—” He cut himself off and grunted like a person who was about to say something he would most likely regret later. “If you need me to protect your brother, bring him to my ranch. I have some serious wards placed on the property. I doubt a necromancer, no matter how powerful he or she is, can break my protective magic.”

  “Thank you, Hawk,” said Damian, the corners of his mouth lifting as an image of Hawk cursing at the idea of a vampire living in his ranch house surfaced in his mind. “Right now, Cole is safe, but if something changes in our situation, I may have to take you up on your offer. Your wards are quite potent. I believe they were cast by a god and a Child of Fire?”

  “Oh, yeah,” replied Hawk, tones of pride in his voice. “Originally, my wards and protection spells had been placed by a god of the Celtic Otherworld, and later on they were reinforced by an elf and the Great Salamander himself. So, yeah... If you and your brother need help, I offer both of you my packs’ protection.”

  “I greatly appreciate it, my friend,” said Damian.

  “Well, keep me posted, kid, and good luck.”

  Hawk hung up, and Damian put his phone on the table, turning back to face River. She looked away, unease imprinted on her tender features, but then moved her plate aside and leaned forward.

  “Give me the name and address of the collector,” she said quietly. Damian pulled out the piece of paper, offering it to her. She took it and snapped a photo of the address with her phone, pursing her lips. “Carefree is not my jurisdiction, but I’ll see what I can dig out.”

  “Thank you.” Damian got up and reached for his wallet. Glancing at the receipt, he placed three ten-dollar bills on the small tray to cover the cost of both meals and the tip.

  “I can pay for myself,” said River, looking at him with reproach.

  “I never said you couldn’t.” Damian flashed her a wide grin and headed toward the exit, ignoring her protests. “I’ll see you later at home.”

  The rest of the day, Damian spent discussing the details of the upcoming heist with Cole, Jamie and Ace. He needed to know the layout of the property and the floor plans of the house. He was positive that between Cole and Ace, discovering any information, even the one hidden in the darkest corners of the world wide web, wasn’t a problem. Jamie promised to see if there was anything about Ricardo in his father’s archives. All the research had to be done inconspicuously and fast, so going the standard routes like visiting the municipality archives wasn’t an option.

  River came back late at night, and the information she brought didn’t really shed much light on who Ricardo Torres truly was. She confirmed Az’s story, stating that the Carefree Police Department had indeed checked him a few times and even kept his house under surveillance for a while. However, they had found nothing incriminating.

  Ricardo Torres owned an absolutely legit construction company and a large chain of Real Estate offices. He started his business by flipping houses, and with time, it grew into a serious venture with seven-digit annual revenue reports. On the surface, Ricardo looked like a lawful taxpayer, but a few visits from some shady individuals as well as a few anonymous tips triggered the interest of the local police department. Nevertheless, none of the suspicions were confirmed, and since collecting antiques wasn’t a crime, the police had to back off.

  Listening to everything River had to say, Damian shuffled absentmindedly through the reports she had brought. While some information she had was helpful, the state of Ricardo’s business affairs was of little interest to him. Unfortunately, the intelligence he truly needed couldn’t have been found in police archives, or any human organization for that matter.

  River also had no idea if Ricardo had any affiliations with Mexican criminal organizations. Based on the information she had received from the Carefree Police Department, she thought it was highly unlikely, but she didn’t discount the possibility completely. River confirmed that the house was protected by a state-of-the-art security system, installed by one of the most reliable companies in Arizona. It had a gated entry with a twenty-four-seven guard on duty, security cameras covering every square inch of the property and the inside of the house, as well as motion sensors and heat detectors.

  It was well past midnight when they finally finished the discussion, ready to start preparations early in the morning.

  Damian walked into his room but stilled for a moment as Cole’s voice reached his ears. His brother spoke with River in hushed tones, and then the sound of their laughter rang through the hallway, carried by the strange acoustics of this house. He smiled faintly, thinking that it was nice to hear them having a little fun in the middle of this supernatural doom and gloom.

  Once all this is over, I’m going to climb up to the attic and see if I can find out what causes this mysterious sound effect.

  Quietly closing his door, Damian walked to the bed and lowered heavily on it, massaging his stiff shoulders. He glanced toward the bathroom and sighed, forcing himself back to his feet. It didn’t take him long to clean up and change into his pajama pants. Making his way to the window, he pushed it open and inhaled the cold night air infused with the scents of the desert. His chest ached with the desire to walk outside and fall asleep under the open sky with his bare back pressed against the cold earth.

  Cars and planes, houses and especially high-rises weren’t something he enjoyed, but sleeping in the middle of the desert also wasn’t a good idea. So, he settled for the open window and lay down on the bed. Pulling one of the pillows to his chest, he turned to his side and wrapped his arms around it, closing his eyes. As his exhausted body took over, he fell asleep almost immediately, his racing mind surrendering to the loving embrace of oblivion.

  He woke up in the middle of the night and blinked sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he tried to understand what had ripped him out of his peaceful slumber. It was especially annoying because lately, it hardly ever happened that he actually slept without some kind of nightmare tormenting his mind. With a low groan, he sat up and opened his second sight, scanning Paradise Manor as far as he could reach, but except for the energy signature of the Guardians’ protective magic placed over the left wing of the property, he could detect nothing.

  Pain, dull and nagging, built up somewhere behind his eyes, and he groaned, lowering his head in his hands.

  “Fuck...” he exhaled as the realization dawned on him. Magnus was summoning him. While the Head of the Destiny Council used a light summoning spell, Damian knew that ignoring the summons, no matter how gentle they were, wasn’t a good idea. The light headache would soon become stronger, quickly morphing into a terrible migraine
, and increasing with every passing second until he wouldn’t be able to tolerate it.

  Rising, he channeled some of his magic and drew a dimly glowing rune on the wall between the bed and the window. Touching it, he infused it with the soft, orange glow of his magical energy and then brushed his fingers over the rune of the Shadow Enforcer on his shoulder, whispering a quick spell. Both runes lit up brighter, and the air in front of the wall shimmered with a brilliant white light. When the light dissipated, an oval communication window unfolded before him. Magnus stood on the other side of the window, looking as impeccable as ever in his long white robe.

  “Commander Blake,” he said, his voice sounding too loud in the sleepy silence of the house.

  Damian winced, massaging his temples as the headache of the summoning spell started to subside. “Magnus,” he muttered, slightly inclining his head. “It’s three in the morning...”

  “You’re not working a nine-to-five job, Commander,” objected Magnus dryly, “and your responsibilities don’t stop at sunset.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, sir. It just—” He cut himself off and exhaled, rubbing his forehead. “I’m a little tired. It was the first night in a long while since I was able to sleep.”

  “Oh?” The blazing light in Magnus’ eyes dimmed down, and a shadow of concern crossed his face. “Tell me what’s going on, Commander.”

  Damian stepped closer to the communication window and lowered his voice as if that could give him more privacy. “Can we speak off the record, my lord?”

  Magnus glanced around and whispered something with a slight flick of his wrist. Once the room behind him filled with a soft yellow glimmer of a cloaking spell, he turned back to face Damian. “Speak freely, my child. It’s just the two of us here. What troubles you?”

  “A few months ago, when I fought Mara and Morok,” started Damian, “the goddess of Nightmares showed me a vision—”

  “You realize you can’t trust anything Mara says or shows, right?” asked Magnus, reproach in his voice. “You’re old and experienced enough to know how the ancient gods work.”

  “You’re right,” agreed Damian. He took another step closer and braced his hands on either side of the window, dropping his head. “Maybe it’s just my intuition, but something tells me she showed me the truth.”

  “About?”

  “Vita—the only woman I have ever loved,” he whispered without raising his eyes. Talking about his personal life had never come easy to him. Talking about it with the Head of the Destiny Council was even harder. “The fight I lost...”

  He slammed his hand against the edge of the window and bit his lip, the painful memory forever engraved in his mind. Since Magnus didn’t interrupt him, he continued.

  “Mara told me it wasn’t my fault, and by showing me this vision, she proved her point. I don’t think she lied.” He raised his eyes, meeting Magnus’ troubled gaze. “I saw it, Magnus. If you remember that moment... right before I summoned you. There was a man there. I don’t remember seeing him during the fight, but at the time, I was hurt and...” He grunted, looking away for a moment before continuing. “In the vision, I couldn’t see him clearly either—just a glowing white outline in the darkness of the forest, but somehow his appearance felt so familiar...” He exhaled, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “And now, every time I close my eyes for a few minutes, I see this vision over and over again, but with an added layer of nightmarish monsters and horrors. I already forgot when I had a good night’s rest.”

  “Dmitri, my child, you must protect your mind,” said Magnus, stressing the word ‘must’. “You’re a trained Destiny Enforcer with hundreds of years of experience under your belt. You know how to shield your mind from any outside intrusion.” Magnus’ voice faded, and he frowned. “Unless for some reason you don’t want to block these visions?”

  Damian dropped his head and clenched his jaw, recognizing the truth in Magnus’ words. “I don’t know,” he exhaled, his voice so hoarse he could barely recognize it. “Mara was right, I think. To stop it once and for all, I need to find this man, if he exists, that is.” He glanced up and found Magnus staring at him with a warning in his unnerving silvery eyes. Damian shook his head and added quietly, “It’s not about vengeance, Magnus. I swear... At least, not entirely. I need closure, you know? After hundreds of years, I need to understand what happened that day. This is the only way I can finally move on.”

  “Oh, my boy,” Magnus whispered, running his fingers over the surface of the communication window as if he were trying to touch Damian’s face. “I didn’t realize you were still blaming yourself for what happened. No one should carry this kind of burden through so many years.” He stopped talking, a pained look settling on his features. “I’m going to visit the archives and see if I can find anything on that old case to help you. However, I do believe Mara is manipulating you. She’s in the wind now and who knows, she could be reaching out to you psychically since she was able to get access to your mind once already. Guard your mind, Dmitri.” He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, seemingly becoming taller. “It’s an order, Commander. You must do it.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Damian took in a long breath and smiled faintly. “I don’t think there is a lot of sleep in my foreseeable future, anyway.”

  “And that brings us to the reason for my late-night summons,” chimed in Magnus. “You have a sanctuary law violation on your territory, Commander. I need you to take care of the situation as soon as possible and deliver the responsible party to the Destiny Council holding facility.”

  “I’m working on it,” replied Damian. “I was in The Midnight Shift when it happened. The sanctuary was attacked by wurdulaks.”

  “Excuse me?” Magnus’ voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

  “Yes, sir. I have a rogue necromancer on my hands.” Damian reported on everything that had happened in the last few weeks, omitting just some personal details related to his brother.

  “Impossible.” Magnus frowned, his eyes blazing so brightly, Damian had to look away.

  “I also thought it was impossible. Until I had to fight the wurdulaks myself, that is,” he objected quietly. “Can I count on your support in case my heist fails, and I get detained by the local human authorities?”

  “Don’t fail, Commander,” the Head of the Destiny Council snapped icily, but Damian just smirked, knowing perfectly well, Magnus’ aggravation wasn’t directed at him. “I hate doing clean up jobs, so I may let you experience the pleasures of human incarceration.”

  “Been there, done that.” Damian laughed, but then bowed and pressed his fist to his chest in an overly exaggerated manner. “Yes, my lord. Your wish is my command. I won’t fail.”

  “Keep it up, keep it up...” Magnus shook his head, but humorous twinkles danced in his silvery eyes. “You will show me proper respect, Dmitri, when the time comes.” His gaze shifted, and a warm smile tugged at his lips. “In the old days, I used to love it about you...”

  “There was something you actually liked about me?” Damian lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “All I remember is you chastising me for being reckless, or for breaking a chain of command, or for having poor manners.”

  “You used to have this uncanny ability to make jokes and laugh, no matter how tough the situation was,” replied Magnus, ignoring his last statement. “Your team used to love that about you, too... What happened to that man?”

  Damian swallowed, barely meeting Magnus’s gaze. “He became no one, my lord.”

  “Keep an eye on that royal brother of yours,” said Magnus, switching the subject. “From what I see, you will have angry lycanthropes knocking on the door of Paradise Manor in no time.”

  “I’ll guard him with my life,” replied Damian.

  After his conversation with Hawk, Damian knew it was only a matter of time before the werewolves would launch a full-force attack against anything without a heartbeat. The only way to stop them was to find the responsible party, so he h
ad to do whatever he could to make it happen as soon as possible. And if that included breaking and entering into some rich collector’s home, so be it. He would do a lot more to keep his brother safe.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” muttered Magnus, pinning Damian with a heavy gaze. “Keep me updated, Commander.” The Head of the Destiny Council snapped his fingers, and the communication window closed.

  Chapter 14

  ~ Damian Blake ~

  A full week passed before Cole, Ace and Jamie announced that they had gathered all the information they could about Ricardo Torres and his collection. Now, Damian had the blueprints of the house, the layout of the property, and he knew the types of security devices installed inside the building and around the gate area. He even had pictures of the room with Ricardo’s collectibles.

  Apparently, Ricardo was quite the social butterfly who loved a good party with enough alcohol to fill his sizable swimming pool. He didn’t spare expenses on entertaining his rich and often famous guests and would do pretty much anything for his young and beautiful female visitors. So quite a few selfies with sensual poses, duck faces, and round eyes adorned with a generous layer of mascara had shown up on different social media sites with his collection in the background. In fact, there had been so many of them taken at different angles, that Ace could point out almost every single motion and heat detector installed around the perimeter of the room.

  Damian couldn’t help but wonder if Ricardo was truly so careless exposing his collection to everyone who cared to see it or if there was more to his security measures than met the eye—figuratively and literally speaking. However, with the situation getting worse with every passing day, he did not have the luxury of spending more time on research. With new murder cases popping up all over the Greater Phoenix area almost every day, all police precincts were on high alert, searching for a possible serial killer, or a vicious animal, or God knows what. All in all, they had no clue what was killing people and how to find them.