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The Shadow Deception: The Shadow Enforcer Series Book Two

Page 40

by N M Thorn


  He waved his hand dismissively and walked out the door, tittering, but then came back a second later and stuck his head in the doorway.

  “And Commander, don’t forget to name him,” he said, twinkles of humor dancing in his dark-brown eyes. “Give him a name of strength and power. It’s important.”

  “Yakov!” yelled Damian, running after him as the wizard pivoted on his heels and walked away. “Name who? What are you talking about?” He rushed into the hallway, but Yakov was already gone.

  Damian returned to the kitchen and dropped on a chair, turning his arm as he tried to read the words of the Dragon tongue but without any luck. He sighed and gave up, putting his hands on the table.

  “I hate tattoos,” he mumbled, throwing a tortured gaze at Cole, but his brother just shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face.

  “For what it’s worth,” said River, approaching him, “this one is truly beautiful.” She ran her finger over the lines, tracing the design wrapped around his bicep, and a tender pink shade colored her cheeks. “I love it.”

  Cole chuckled, and River stepped away, the blush on her cheeks becoming brighter. She sat down across from Damian and folded her hands on the table, leaning forward slightly.

  “So, what are you going to do now?” she asked, her normal calmness returning to her. “This Koschei doesn’t sound like someone to be taken lightly.”

  “He’s not,” replied Damian quietly. “We’ll do what we always do.”

  “We’ll find this prehistoric monster, and we’ll fight,” said Cole, his eyes igniting with the furious, scarlet light. He approached Damian and placed his cold hands on his shoulders. “Do your thing, brother. I’m with you all the way. No matter what—”

  “—we stand together.” Damian placed his hand over his brother’s, squeezing it. “Brat moi....”

  “Brother mine,” Cole echoed his words, looking up at him.

  Excerpt

  Read on for an excerpt from

  N.M. Thorn’s new book

  The Shadow Enforcer Series Book 3:

  ~ Damian Blake ~

  Blue Creek, Arizona

  The large, orange disk of the moon hung low over the horizon, bathing the dark suburban neighborhood in its soft light. Despite the late hour, it was still too hot to be comfortable, and the asphalt road emitting additional waves of heat didn’t improve the situation. The wind-deprived air felt stuffy, and the silence of this scorching evening seemed to be too heavy to be natural.

  Damian halted in front of a dark intersection and raised his arm to stop Jamie. The young wizard halted by his side and pointed at a dark house on the south-east corner, across the road. Damian nodded and sharpened his senses, quickly scanning the area around. A barely noticeable spike in the magical energy field attracted his attention, and he channeled his magic, opening his other sight.

  “Dammit,” he cursed, frowning.

  The magical energy flowed around the house in unsteady waves, spiking up and dropping to nearly nothing like some crazy EKG of a monstrous heart. Some of it was basic protective magic—a turn-away spell cast to keep humans as far away as possible. Besides that, he detected a strange dark energy he couldn’t identify right away. It was pulsing in short, continuous bursts, dark-purple flares accentuating each spike, aligning with the overall uneven flow of magical energy around the building.

  What bothered him the most, however, was that this unusual pulsating magic completely blocked his second sight, and he couldn’t see what was going on inside of the building. The idea that someone was powerful enough to block his other sight made his skin crawl with the expectation of trouble, and he tensed, channeling more of his magical energy toward his eyes to enhance his vision.

  “What do you see?” Jamie asked, shifting closer to him.

  “River was right,” Damian replied in a soft whisper, wishing with all his heart that she wasn’t. “I have no idea how she does it, but whenever she tells me that her case is supernatural, she’s always right.”

  “Do you know what we’re dealing with?” Jamie shivered, rubbing his arms with his hands as if he were cold in this unusually steamy ninety-five degrees evening. “I can’t get rid of the feeling that I need to leave this place and never come back.” He huffed, catching Damian’s reproachful stare. “Yeah, I know—a turn-away spell. I’m not gonna fall for it. You taught me well.”

  “Good, don’t. I need you to keep it together…” Damian stared into the darkness behind the house and reached out to his brother through their blood bond. “Cole, are you in position?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain. We’re in position,” Cole replied immediately, his voice sounding loud and clear in Damian’s mind.

  Damian stifled a sigh, thinking about his brother’s inability to stay serious no matter how severe the situation was. “You’re a lot closer to the house. Can you detect any supernatural presence?”

  For a few seconds, Cole remained silent, then his voice sounded in Damian’s mind again, humorous vibes replaced by tones of concern. “A few vampires. Not mine. Either rogues or visitors from other states… Well, that’s a big problem, and I need to handle it later.” Cole stopped talking, and the short pause he took felt like an hour-long silence to Damian’s stretched nerves. “Do me a favor, big bro. If you come across vampires, keep at least one of them alive if possible. I would like to ask them a few questions…”

  “You got it,” replied Damian. “Any other supernatural presence?”

  “Yes,” replied Cole. “Demons, at least two or three, judging by the amount of demonic essence they’re emitting. Oh, and Atticus thinks there are a bunch of shifters among them. Most likely swords for hire.”

  “Jeez,” muttered Damian, wondering why this completely unremarkable suburban house was guarded like a medieval fortress. “Okay. I believe there are wards around the place, so Jamie and I go first. If River is right, there could be humans inside. So, be careful. Don’t go happy-go-lucky on me.”

  “Oh, no, and here I was going to rush in, guns blazing.” Cole snickered, and Damian could almost see his brother rolling his eyes.

  “You and Atticus stay back and wait for my signal,” he replied, ignoring Cole’s sarcasm.

  “What signal?”

  “You’ll know it when you see it.” Damian severed their link and seized Jamie’s elbow, directing him toward the house.

  They crossed the road, and Damian halted by the decorative fence surrounding the property. The house was large—eight to nine thousand square feet, if not more by the looks of it. The only two-story building on the block, it stood out like a sore thumb, and he had to wonder why someone would pick this place if they wanted to stay under the radar of local human and supernatural authorities. The windows of the house were dark, shaded by thick curtains, and nothing seemed to be moving either inside the building or in its front yard.

  Damian squatted, placed his palm flat against the ground, and sent a touch of his elemental energy through it. The small area of the fence in front of him lit up with a barely perceptible purple glow, and a chain of tiny, shimmering runes shone along the perimeter of the property for a heartbeat before vanishing.

  Damian got up and turned to Jamie. “Did you see it?”

  “Wards?” replied Jamie, shoving his hands into the pockets of his track pants.

  Damian noticed his move but managed to stop himself from smiling. A few months ago, Jamie had touched the wards and activated them, giving away their presence to their enemies. He had obviously learned his lesson, and now he kept his hands firmly locked in his pockets to make sure he wouldn’t touch anything he wasn’t supposed to.

  He got up, straightening his jeans, and nodded at Jamie. “Well, they are wards, but they are not built to keep anything supernatural out. They’re built to alert whoever is inside as soon as someone with magic crosses the property line.” He brushed his palms together, getting rid of the sand. “It’s a supernatural alarm system.”

  “Can you disable it without activating the a
larm?” asked Jamie, his troubled gaze traveling across the property, settling on the dark house.

  “No. I need to use my magic to disable the wards, but these wards are designed to react to anything magical.” Damian frowned, considering different options, but none of them looked good. “Unfortunately, this protective magic also blocks my other sight, so I have no idea how many monsters are waiting for us on the inside and where they are.”

  Jamie shrugged, and his eyes lit up with the soft reddish glow of his magic, determination reflecting on his face. “Then we do what we always do,” he said quietly. “We make an entrance they will never forget.”

  “You are learning.” Damian tapped Jamie’s shoulder and reached out to his brother. “Cole, there are alarm-type wards around the property. There is no way to get in quietly. Tell Atticus to be ready. We’re going to go in first.”

  “Ready.” Cole’s voice sounded in his mind like the low, dangerous growl of a predator.

  “Jamie, now.” Damian channeled his magic to his hands and shouted, pointing at the fence, “Exitius!”

  The fence blew up with a thunderous bang, showering them with shards of wood, dust and debris. The wards crashed, and the ear-splitting sound of the supernatural alarms rang through the sleepy neighborhood. A few dogs replied with gut-wrenching howls that made the small hairs rise on the back of Damian’s neck. A flock of birds went up in the air, their screeches adding to the cacophony of the alarm.

  Damian held out his arms, and his daggers materialized in his hands, blazing in the surrounding darkness. He stepped through the opening he had created, registering from the corner of his eye that Jamie was following him. Opening his second sight, he ran soundlessly across the front yard toward the entrance into the house.

  Halting on the circular driveway, he channeled more of his magic toward his hands, ready to break the door, when it opened with a soft squeak and remained ajar, exposing a lightless room behind it. Jamie came to a screeching halt, grabbing Damian’s elbow.

  “It’s a trap,” he exhaled, staring into the black rectangle of the doorway as if it were the maw of a monster.

  “Of course, it is,” murmured Damian, unable to hide his amusement. “Let’s see who’ll get trapped, though. I bet you a hundred dollars, it’s not us.”

  “Make it two,” replied Jamie, his hands clenching into fists.

  “Perfect. Now, give me some light, boy!” Damian laughed, adrenalin surging through him. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and spread his arms, connecting with his element. As the energy of Earth flowed freely through his body, he redirected it toward the house.

  The entire building shook, tremors running through its walls. Damian took a step forward and twisted his arm, drawing a shining circle in the air with his blazing dagger. The tremors became stronger, the front wall wobbling as if it were made of jelly. Damian whispered a spell and drew another circle in the air.

  A part of the front wall surrounding the doorway separated from the house, ripped by his magic. Deep fractures ran in every direction, but the building didn’t collapse. For a brief moment, Damian held the chunk of wall suspended in mid-air, every muscle of his body tense with strain. Then he screamed and pushed his arms forward. The piece of wall flew through the opening into the house, exploding into a cloud of wood slivers and pieces of concrete. Loud screams of horror and cries of pain followed his move.

  Jamie raised his arm, muttering a spell, and a swarm of tiny light orbs materialized over his hand. He flicked his wrist toward the building, and the orbs obeyed his command, zooming into the house.

  “Ask and you shall receive.” A winning smile crossed Jamie’s face. “Light for you, my lord.”

  The light orbs illuminated a large hall covered in pieces of wood, slivers of glass, dust and other debris. There was no furniture in the room and the space was wide open with no place to hide. Two hallways ran in opposite directions, leading into the darkness. A group of dark figures cowered by the back wall, their eyes igniting with an angry glimmer as they started to recover from the initial shock. Jamie’s magical orbs hovered above them, throwing flares of light against their blades and firearms.

  Damian didn’t need to use his other sight to know they were shifters for hire, their powerful energy signatures unmistakable from such close proximity.

  “Shifters,” hissed Jamie, unsheathing his sword.

  “You’re better off with your gun. Use the silver bullets,” Damian whispered and crossed the threshold. At the same time, the clatter of broken glass and a furious slew of profanities sounded at the other end of the house. Damian’s mouth twisted into a dark smirk as the sound of an unfolding fight confirmed that his brother was in, too.

  The noise ripped the shifters out of their stupor, and the air around them shimmered as they started to transform. Soon, a pack of desert wolves stood before him, their light, sandy fur raised on their backs. With blood-curdling howls, they charged Damian and Jamie.

  Damian spun in place, ducking the first monster as it leaped in the air. His arm went up, and the shining dagger cut through the wolf’s side and stomach, ripping it open. The monster fell to the floor next to his feet, his body convulsing as it transformed back into human form. The man’s hands clutched at his front and side, blood and entrails spilling out of the terrifying wound.

  The sound of a gunshot rolled across the house, and another wolf fell, turning into a man on its way down. Damian didn’t wait to see what would happen next. Deadly and precise, his daggers worked their way through the pack of shifters, leaving disfigured bodies in their wake. The screams of pain and howls of anger filled the house, and the nauseating stench of spilled blood permeated the air.

  Damian wasn’t sure how many shifters he killed. It was hard to count, especially since they kept shifting, taking on a different form every chance they had, but it seemed like they kept coming. Throwing a quick glance around, he noticed that the shifters outmaneuvered him, separating him from Jamie. A gunshot boomed on his right, letting him know that the young wizard was still standing. He sharpened his senses, and over the howls of the wolves, he heard the cacophony of a battle unfolding in the other part of the house, suggesting that Cole and Atticus were still fighting.

  “On your left, Commander!” A tiny, high-pitched voice sounded in Damian’s head, causing him to flinch. He knew it wasn’t Cole, and he had no idea whose voice invaded his mind, but he had no time to think about it. Jumping aside, he spun to the left just in time to see the giant body of an honest-to-God lion rising in the air, its massive paws with hooked claws aiming at him.

  He yelped and ducked out of the way, but one of the paws caught his shoulder, sending him tumbling to the floor slick with blood. He skidded on his back, hitting the wall with his bleeding shoulder and arm. His fingers unlocked, and the daggers fell on the tiled floor, their metallic clatter swallowed by the deafening roar of the monstrous animal. A cry of pain escaped his lips as he struggled to get back to his feet. Another roar rolled through the room, and then his brother’s furious voice rose over the mayhem.

  “Hey, lion! King of assholes!” Cole shouted somewhere at the other end of the room. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size.”

  The lion snapped around, its thick mane flowing with its move, and now Damian could see Cole standing with the glowing sword in his hand, a giant black wolf by his side. The wolf growled, exposing its terrifying fangs dripping with fresh blood, and Cole laughed in response, his ominous, dark laughter promising nothing good to the remaining shifters for hire.

  Using the opportunity to regroup, Damian pushed off the floor, rising to his feet with a strenuous groan. The lion snapped back to him, baring its fangs in a low growl, his foul breath engulfing Damian’s senses.

  “Procedia Amnia!” Damian shouted, pressing his back against the wall as he summoned his daggers.

  Cold perspiration covered his forehead when he realized that if the lion charged him now, he wouldn’t be able to deflect the attack, praying
for his basic protection spell to hold back the powerful supernatural animal. At the same time, the black wolf jumped forward, and Cole screamed, terror in his voice, and sped toward him.

  As the lion leaped in the air again, the boom of a gunshot echoed through the house. Like in a slow-motion video, Damian watched a silver bullet fly through the lion’s head, exiting through its eye with a splatter of blood. The animal yelped and fell dead to the floor in front of him, slowly turning into a man. The remaining three shifters assumed their human forms and froze in place, their faces contorted with fear.

  Damian searched the room and saw Jamie lying on the floor, his Glock in his hands, his sword on the floor by his side. With a groan of pain, the young wizard threw the body of another dead shifter off his legs and got up, his blood-smeared left arm dangling powerlessly by his side, four deep claw marks running across his bicep.

  “A goddamn lion?” he yelled, blood mixed with sweat dripping down his face. “A lion? What the fuck?”

  Cole winked at Jamie and snapped his fingers at the wolf. Before Damian had a chance to say anything, the remaining shifters fell dead to the floor, beheaded and torn apart by the mighty jaws of the purebred werewolf.

  With a loud roar, the black wolf shifted, taking his human form, and a heartbeat later, Atticus stood next to them, his wide chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His clothes were torn and soaked with blood and sweat. His body was covered in bite marks and lacerations. Red and brown splatters coated his face and arms, and Damian had no doubt some of this blood was his.

  “Damian, we should go upstairs,” said Cole, approaching him. He frowned, and a muscle twitched in his tightly pressed jaw. “Atticus and I dealt with a few vampires and demons in the family room. He pointed toward the dark hallway on his right. “There is a staircase to the second floor there, and they were willing to do anything to stop us from going there.” He raked his fingers, throwing the blood-soaked hair off his face. “Whatever they’re hiding there must be important.”

 

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