Lightning Blade (Ruby Callaway Book 1)

by D. N. Erikson

“Roark?”

  “I am glad Colton did not disappoint me.” His eye closed. “He will end the war. But only with your guidance.”

  I didn’t need to pull the trigger.

  Solomon Marshall let out a final ragged breath, and then his body went slack.

  Everything was over, and the weight of responsibility settled down upon me.

  44

  The FBI’s backup did eventually arrive, but I never got to see whether Roark survived. I’d just have to trust my vision. Then again, it being the first one I’d really pulled off successfully, I didn’t really know what to think. While the FBI was eager to announce the killing of the necromancer to the world—and claim credit—they were less interested in giving me details on Roark’s condition.

  Everyone could breathe easy, order restored. Everything was as it should’ve been—with me back in jail.

  But I knew now that this new world was just an illusion. MagiTekk had wormed its way into every part of the government—the internment camps started in Texas, then spread, and someone saw an opportunity worth exploiting. All those creatures could be tested and researched. Data gleaned, products made. Fear mongered.

  You make money off war, not peace—the hope of peace. Guns, bullets, surveillance, chips, all of it generated cash. The deception was that MagiTekk was keeping the world safe, when really they were Mafia dons offering protection against themselves. Reaching their hand in one pocket and threatening to slit your throat with the other.

  And I’d killed the only man willing to fight the system.

  I paced around my solitary cell, the familiar cotton sweat suit scratching against my skin. If I’d expected a hero’s welcome, then this was a severe disappointment. Although I’d been granted the luxury of my own living space, primarily so that I couldn’t spread dissent amongst the prisoners.

  Or maybe so they could study me and continue relaying all the details about my vitals and sleep habits back to MagiTekk.

  I sat down on the bed, staring at the wall.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  It swung open anyway.

  A tall, muscular man stepped inside, his sad blue eyes looking slightly less sorrowful. A plain brown bag swayed in his hand. He scratched his clean-shaven cheeks, looking about ten years younger. A youthful smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His smooth movements had a slight hitch to them. Like he’d just been shot and almost died.

  “Modern medicine,” Colton Roark said, by way of explanation. He lifted up his shirt to display a rippling silver plate that moved and tensed like skin. It melded perfectly with the rest of his obliques, but reflected the light sharply. “They say they can make it blend in. But I kind of like it.”

  I blinked like I was seeing a ghost.

  Roark leaned on the wall, his boot pressed against the white wall. “I’d give you a big thank you, but—”

  “But?”

  “I don’t think we have much time,” he said, offering me his hand. I brushed off the display of chivalry and stood on my own.

  “Meaning?”

  “Alice looped the camera and deleted all your records,” Roark said. “Drop your pants.”

  “A little forward.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m harmless.” There was that charm. I almost found myself embarrassed as I untied the drawstring. “Bend over.”

  “This better not be an—ow.” I spun around, tripping on my pants. “What the hell was that?”

  “They tag all the supernatural creatures.” Roark held up a little syringe, which instead of a needle, had a claw-like apparatus at the end. In the clear plastic, there was a little circuit board. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

  I’d been through the deactivation dog-and-pony show more than twenty times. But yeah, after a while, I’d forgotten that the camp had tagged me like some sort of dog.

  Roark tossed me the bag. I felt the familiar outline of my clothes.

  I got dressed and rubbed my sore thigh. “A little heads-up would’ve been nice.”

  “Oh, I guess I should’ve just called on the phone and asked for Ruby Callaway.” He smiled, blue eyes reflecting the room’s dim light. “Would’ve been kind of hard, since they don’t even know your name.”

  He pushed the door open and held it for me.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because we’re partners,” Roark said, quickly catching up despite his minor limp.

  “You could lose your job.”

  “And you could use a job.”

  “Doing what?” I followed him into the hallway, dropping my gaze as a man in a lab coat approached. The man gave us a glance, but quickly turned away when Roark displayed his FBI credentials.

  With the dampeners in effect, I could barely make out the wisps circling around Roark. But from his expression, I could see that he was serious.

  “Working for the FBI.” We passed through a series of essence detectors. None of them beeped or sounded an alarm. “Well, kind of.”

  Alice Conway was good. But not good enough to circumvent the Supernatural Containment & Suppression Act. Creatures of essence couldn’t hold law enforcement jobs—and every damn facility in the country would have an essence scanner right at the front.

  She might’ve disabled that one from afar. But she couldn’t do that every time. Plus, they might have lost my file, but the guys at the FBI would probably recognize the Crimson Angel.

  “Define kind of.”

  “You’re good at keeping in the shadows.”

  “Pass.”

  “I’ll use my whole CI budget,” Roark said, turning to gauge my reaction. “Good benefits.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m talking about the hidden ones.” We walked straight by the intake guard at the front, out the doors. Staring out at the massive camp, the cabins that had been my home for years, I realized I was sick of this life. “Like working with me.”

  “And here I thought you were modest.”

  “Everyone gets things wrong occasionally,” he said with a quick wink.

  I considered his offer—and the alternative.

  Always running.

  Never standing to fight.

  “You want to take on MagiTekk,” I said. Hell, he hadn’t even heard half of what Marshall had told me, and he still wanted to charge ahead.

  Solomon Marshall might’ve been insane, but apparently he was a good judge of character.

  Maybe Roark would win this war after all.

  Roark shot me a serious grin. “What better way to blow it up than from the inside?”

  “I don’t know,” I said as we walked to his cruiser. “Marshall couldn’t stop them even from within a time loop.”

  “But he didn’t have Lightning Blade on his side.” Roark winked at me. “And whatever you bring to the table, of course.”

  “I’m the only reason you’re alive,” I said hotly.

  “But did you break out of a high-security government facility?”

  “I killed a necromancer twice.”

  “Technically he killed himself the first time,” Roark said, settling into the leather seat. The window rolled down and he leaned over. “Last chance.”

  “I can just leave?”

  His expression barely changed, but I could tell the thought pained him. “It’s your choice.” His head nodded toward the trunk. “Benefits, though.”

  The trunk hissed open.

  I found the Realmpiece and my shotgun inside.

  I said, “What happened to Stevens?”

  “Oh, I think he’s fitting in nicely at his new job. Cleaning toilets suits a man of his stature, right?”

  I smiled.

  Maybe this could work.

  Maybe we could win. Him working in the light, me in the shade.
Pooling our resources and minds together to balance everything, like yin and yang. After all, we’d stopped a deranged necromancer. Alone, neither of us stood a chance. The world would consume us. But together…

  I racked the slide and walked to the car.

  As I slid into the leather seat, Roark gave me a nod, reaching into his belt loop.

  The blade glowed with electric energy.

  Without a word, he placed the hilt in my hand.

  “I can’t take this,” I said.

  “Partners.”

  “You know the last guy who gave me a weapon died.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “I just wanted my shit back,” I said as the car rolled forward, looking out the window at the place I’d called home for the last twenty years. But really, I didn’t want Roark to know I was a little touched by his gesture. I blinked hard to make sure I didn’t look like a sentimental sap. “And an apartment.”

  “Sure.”

  But I think what I wanted, all these years, was something else.

  For someone to understand and give me a cause worth fighting for again.

  As the cruiser whipped through the gates, toward freedom, I looked back at the gray concrete compound, a calm coming over me.

  The time loop was over.

  My heart thumped in my chest as we sped through the familiar slum, mud spitting off the tires.

  Two centuries was a long time.

  It was good to finally be free.

  THE END

  SHADOW FLARE (BOOK 2): Ruby Callaway and Colton Roark return to fight the Crusaders of Paradism, an ancient cult sacrificing mortals to gain immortality, in Shadow Flare.

  Now available on Amazon at watchfirepress.com/flare.