by N M Thorn
“Pathetic,” Moore growled and stepped back, wiping his hands on his uniform pants. He tongued his cheek and spat on the perfectly clean floor. “Weak and pathetic. I could never understand why the Destiny Council granted you wings in the first place, holding you in higher esteem than everyone else.” He stepped back and hooked his thumbs on his belt, his square face darkened by disdain.
“Is that what’s been bothering you for centuries? That the Destiny Council trusted me more than you?” Damian chuckled and winced at the aches in his battered body. Taking a strained breath, he lowered his arms, his every move resulting in a jolt of pain. “I’m tired of your games, Moore. You want to see me bleed? Fine. Do what you must. I’m not going to fight you. But save your recruit first.”
Moore glowered at him with scorn in his dark eyes and pivoted on his heels, turning toward Ace. But then he spun around and landed a bone-crushing hook into Damian’s jaw. Damian cried out and collapsed to the floor, a blinding white light flooding his vision. Moore seized his hair and yanked his head back.
“Even if I wanted to bring her back,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I can’t. I never bound her spirit to the Destiny Council realm. Once she crossed the veil, there was nothing I could do, and you know it.”
With an effort, Damian opened his eyes, blinking the white spots from his vision. “But why?” he whispered. “She was a Destiny Enforcer. Your Destiny Enforcer. And she was human, just a young and inexperienced witch, a child compared to either of us. She wasn’t one of the immortals. How could you send someone so unprepared to work with an ancient vampire and not bind her?”
Moore smirked and lowered himself to the floor next to Damian, releasing his hair.
“You see, Dmitri,” he said, staring at him with mockery, “that’s the difference between us. I get things done and make things happen, and if I need to make sacrifices, I’m not afraid to do so. Whereas you…” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Anyway, I never bound her because she was expendable. The binding procedure is complicated, and it takes a shitload of magical energy. I do it only for the elite members of my teams. When the Destiny Council ordered me to send someone to shadow a vampire, at first, I thought it was a joke. But as you know, the Destiny Council has no sense of humor.”
“Neither do you,” growled Damian. “You have no other senses except for the sense of self-importance, you egocentric douchebag. You care for no one except your precious self.”
“Right you are,” agreed Moore lightly. “I care only about myself and my mission.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, when they asked me to send one of my people to shadow a vamp, I recruited Ace specifically for that mission. While she was completely incompetent as a witch, she was a perfect fit for the job in the vampire’s company. So, I gave her basic training and sent her out. I never expected her to come back, anyway, and to be frank, I didn’t care. She wasn’t Destiny Enforcer material.” He got up and straightened his uniform, tucking the lapels of his jacket into the belt. “So, no, Dmitri, I can’t bring her back, and her death is on your hands. Live with it.”
He laughed icily, throwing an indifferent glance at Ace’s body sprawled on the floor.
As uncontrollable fury spiked through Damian, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning on one hip. Before Moore realized what he was doing, he swung his leg back, supporting himself with his arms, and struck Moore’s Achilles tendon, sweeping him to the floor. Unprepared, Moore hit the floor hard, and the air escaped his lungs in a loud gasp. With his last remaining strength, Damian launched himself at him and connected his fist with Moore’s nose. It broke with a satisfying crunch, and blood flooded down his chin, dripping to his white jacket.
Moore yelped in pain, his hands rising to his face involuntarily, but he recovered a lot faster than Damian expected. With a roar of anger, Moore bridged, moving his hips up, forcing Damian to all fours. As he was falling forward, Moore seized Damian’s right arm with his left, trapping it, and then punched him into his already damaged ribs. Damian cried out, falling on his chest, and Moore flipped him over, getting on top of him.
Shouting profanities, Moore kept punching him with admirable persistence. After a few punches, Damian stopped feeling the jolts of impacts, the pain becoming a continuous debilitating ache. His head jerked from left to right, and blood filled his mouth with its metallic taste, making him cough and choke, but Moore didn’t stop. The world around him blurred, slipping into darkness.
In that obscurity, he noticed a flare of bright light and reached for it. He saw a familiar and kind face, surrounded by long, flowing hair. But it wasn’t the black mane of his beloved Vita whose memory he carried in his heart throughout the centuries. It was shining with all the colors of sunrise in the desert, and all he wanted was to touch it.
“Stop it! Commander Moore, I command you to stand down at once!”
A loud voice broke into his oblivion, bringing him back to reality, and with that came pain. Harsh and debilitating, it rushed through him, and he moaned, unable to open his swollen eyelids. The pressure on his chest lifted, and then someone touched his forehead. A wave of magical energy rushed through him, easing the pain, and he moaned again.
“Dima, open your eyes,” Cossack’s voice sounded somewhere above him, and this time, he managed to crack his eyelids open to see his friend kneeling next to him. Magnus stood behind him, his eyes blazing with an angry light.
A smile of relief crossed Cossack’s face, and he leaned closer to him. “I’m going to get you to your feet on the count of three. Ready?”
Damian nodded. Cossack pushed his arms under Damian’s shoulder and counted to three before lifting him into a sitting position. Then he threw Damian’s arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet. With Cossack’s help, he made it to the exit door but halted him there.
Looking over his shoulder at Moore, he smirked faintly.
“You’re right, Moore,” he said quietly, barely able to move his split lips. “I failed and made mistakes more times than I care to admit. I live surrounded by the shadows of my mistakes. But unlike you, I still have a beating heart in my chest and not the piece of cold rock that you have.” Damian explored Moore’s bloodied face, and his lips pulled up in a snarl. “And just a fair warning, Commander. The only reason you were able to get the best of me was that I was drained already. Next time you try to pull something like this, I swear on my power, I will kill you.”
He pushed the door open and walked out, leaning heavily on his friend’s shoulder.
Chapter 36
~ Damian Blake ~
Damian glanced down at the white leather armchair in Magnus’ office and stifled a sigh. Even though his wounds were no longer bleeding, he was covered in blood, dirt and some other substance from head to toe. Magnus noticed his hesitation and chuckled, gesturing for him to take a seat.
“Sit down, Commander,” he said softly, perching himself on the edge of the desk in front of the armchair. “I healed you as much as I could in such a short time, but you still look like crap, and you probably feel even worse.”
Damian pulled the chair back and lowered himself on it with Cossack’s help. Magnus wasn’t wrong. He felt broken. But it wasn’t the pain of his wounds that bothered him. The image of Ace’s motionless body lying on the floor at his feet was embedded in his mind, and the raw anguish of grief constricted his chest to the point where he could barely breathe. He hunched forward, resting his blood-splattered arms on his lap, and dropped his head.
“Adrian,” said Magnus, “thank you for your help, but you look hurt and tired yourself. Why don’t you go and see our healer? In the meantime, I’m going to have a word with Commander Blake. Now that he’s back with us, you can get together anytime you wish.”
Damian didn’t see Cossack leaving, but the soft thud of a closed door told him that now he was alone with the Head of the Destiny Council.
“Dmitri, I know you’re tired, but we need to speak, my child.” Magnus leaned forward an
d touched his shoulder gently. “In the few minutes Adrian and I had, he told me as much as he could about everything that transpired in the cave. Is there anything you’d like to tell me? Anything you think I should know?”
Damian raised his head, meeting Magnus’ glowing eyes unwillingly. “In Arizona, the war between the werewolves and vampires was prevented. Since the unrest in the Arizona Vampire Court was mostly driven by Azazel, my brother’s throne is secure, at least for now,” he said, barely moving his lips. “We captured the Fallen, and he’s in Master Alliandr’s custody now, but we failed to stop him from raising Koschei the Deathless.”
He frowned, staring at his skinned knuckles, a jumbled mess of thoughts rushing through his mind.
“I can see something bothers you,” said Magnus. “Speak up, Dmitri. Outside of the obvious, what is it?”
Damian’s frown deepened, his mind racing through the entangled disarray of thoughts. “Outside of the obvious…” he whispered. “Azazel and his plans, that’s what’s bothering me. Why would an ancient and powerful demon—the Fallen who was dormant, keeping to the shadows for centuries—decide to come out in the open? He knew who I was, and yet, he toyed with me from the beginning to the end despite the risks associated with that. After all, no matter how powerful he is, I’m a Destiny Enforcer with the power of the Destiny Council behind me. He couldn’t have known that I am the Shadow Enforcer, working alone.
“Why would he risk everything just to free Koschei the Deathless? I doubt he did that out of the evilness of his black heart. Assholes like him won’t lift a finger without getting something in return. What was his plan? Why did he need Koschei?” He exhaled, the dread of the unknown pressing on his heart. “’Inside the obvious’—yeah… It bothers me to no end that I failed to stop Koschei from rising.”
“I didn’t think you’d be able to stop that from happening,” murmured Magnus.
Damian leaned back in his chair, a hiss of pain escaping his lips before he could suppress it.
“For years, I’ve been observing your work and the work of others in the Destiny Council.” He traced the edge of his bracelet with his finger—a nervous habit he could never get rid of. “What’s the point of having access to the Board of Destiny and the ability to read it if you can’t use your knowledge for something good, or to prevent something evil from happening.” He threw his hands up. “Please, indulge me, Magnus. Explain it to me once and for all.”
“Oh, my boy…” whispered Magnus, shaking his head. “You know I’m an empath. I can feel your suffering…”
“I’ll be all right. I just need time. There are no wounds time can’t heal… at least partially.” Damian closed his eyes, swallowing hard. “Don’t avoid my question, Magnus. I need to understand.”
“Some things I have no right to tell you, but I’ll do my best to explain.” Magnus rubbed the bridge of his nose and stopped talking, a heavy silence engulfing the room. Then he waved his hand, muttering a spell under his breath, and the heavy, yellow glow of a cloaking spell enveloped the office. “Trying to exploit the knowledge we gain by reading the Board of Destiny is a terrible crime prone to serious consequences. This is why my predecessor Aramir has been imprisoned for manipulating the Board of Destiny.”
“I know all that,” replied Damian. “Tell me something outside the basic knowledge. Did you know for sure that we wouldn’t be able to stop Koschei from rising?”
“Yes, but it’s not that simple,” said Magnus. “When I read the Board of Destiny, I don’t receive definitive answers. I see thousands of possible outcomes and scenarios. All there is and all there might be.”
He moved his hand, his eyes going out of focus as if he were looking at the Board of Destiny now, and Damian couldn’t help but wonder if he truly could see it, even from his office.
“Each possible outcome is different from the others, based on the decisions all the figures involved in the event make. The more people are involved, the more possible outcomes I receive while reading the Board of Destiny.” Magnus fell silent, gazing down at Damian. “Unfortunately, there wasn’t even a single chance of you stopping Koschei from rising. But there were other scenarios where you failed to capture Azazel, too, or where your brother was killed.”
Damian nodded, nibbling on his lip. “Was there at least one scenario where—”
“No,” Magnus interrupted him. “You couldn’t save Ace, Commander, and it wasn’t your fault she died.”
Damian inhaled with an effort and smirked faintly. “I know it’s not my fault she’s dead, but it sure feels that way. I failed her in many other ways, Magnus.”
He rubbed his unshaven chin, his fingers slipping on the wetness of sweat and blood covering his skin. His mind traveled back in time to the first moment he met Ace, quickly slipping through everything that happened after that to the moment the Fallen had taken her life.
“Moore should never have sent her to shadow my brother,” he continued at length, every word coming with an effort. “She didn’t have the level of knowledge or training she needed to handle an ancient vampire…” Damian’s voice trailed off, and he sighed. “I failed her as a mentor. When I realized she was addicted to the vampire bite, it should have been a warning flag for me. I should have given her more attention. I should have taught her…” His voice cut off, words stuck in his throat, and he swallowed as if it could help him speak. “Never in my life did I think that someone would want me as a mentor… And I’m failing miserably at it. I need to change things before it’s too late.” He got up with a strained groan and swayed slightly. “There is something else you need to know, Magnus.”
“What is it?”
“Before Ace died, she said a few things… Strange things that made no sense to me.” Damian frowned, raking his fingers through his matted hair. “First, she said her original orders to protect Cole were changed a few weeks ago. She said she was supposed to seduce Cole, pretending to be in love with him. From what I understood, her orders were to drive me and my brother apart, and sabotage whatever we were doing. Who would order such a thing, and why? It has to be someone here.”
“She was dying and in pain,” Magnus said quietly. “Are you sure her words are reliable? It makes no sense. It wasn’t my solo decision to support Cole’s rule in Arizona. The entire Destiny Council voted unanimously on that. Who would want to sabotage that?”
“You tell me.” Damian shrugged and pressed his hand to his side, pain striking through his fractured ribs. “One more thing, Magnus, and this one really bothers me.”
“What is it?” Magnus asked again, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“I have no idea, but here are the words she said exactly the way she said them,” replied Damian. “Damian, be careful… you must help… Magnus is…” He took a pause, drilling Magnus with his eyes. “Magnus is what? Who am I supposed to help and why should I be careful?”
Magnus slipped off the desk and straightened, spreading his long robe on the front to shove his hands into his pants’ pockets. “Commander, I swear on my power, I don’t know what it means. I also swear that I’ll do my best to find out.” He ran his hand over the stylish stubble on his cheeks, and for a moment, stilled in this position, deep in his thought. “What are you planning to do next?”
Damian massaged his sore shoulder and glanced down, just now realizing that his tank top was torn in so many places, it barely concealed his body covered in ugly blemishes of bruises, cuts and welts.
“My lord, if you don’t mind,” he said, “I would like to go home.”
“Home,” echoed Magnus, a warm smile changing his face. “It’s been centuries since you had a place in any realm that you called home. I’m glad to hear that. You deserve some happiness in your life, my child.”
The Destiny Council realm has never been my home, Damian thought, but then added aloud, “I’m not sure about happiness, but I need to heal myself, and I desperately need a good, hot shower and some rest. Besides, Oleg Svetlov is waiting for me at Paradise M
anor, and I want to speak with him.” Damian smirked, thinking that Magnus was right—Paradise Manor did feel like home.
“Captain Oleg Svetlov.” Magnus nodded approvingly. “He’s a good man. You can trust him.” He waved his hand, and a portal, shimmering with the brilliance of his magic, opened next to Damian. “Go home, my boy. You need to heal in more ways than one, for terrible things lie ahead. The escape of Koschei is just the beginning. You need to be ready, my Shadow Enforcer.”
Terrible things lie ahead… Magnus’ words echoed through Damian’s frazzled mind, and for the first time in over a thousand years, he looked at the Head of the Destiny Council with different eyes.
It was hard to be on the frontline of the fight between the Light and the Darkness. There was no chance anyone could survive this kind of confrontation unscarred, and the torment of pain and loss came with the territory. However, knowing what was coming and not being able to do anything to change the future was even harder. Magnus had carried this burden for centuries.
“Thank you, my lord,” said Damian, inclining his head.
Magnus’ glowing eyes widened for a fleeting moment, but then he smiled and gestured at the portal. “Farewell, Commander, and keep me updated on everything happening in your state.”
Damian nodded and walked through the portal, leaving the Destiny Council realm behind.
Damian walked out of the portal in front of the entrance into Paradise Manor. The door was back in place, but the porch lights were broken, and the heavy cover of the night embraced the building. A dark shadow rose in front of the entrance, and a tall man stepped on the driveway, heading toward him.