Magical forks of lightning exploded outward as the two charged weapons made contact.
Slightly blinded by the violent light display, I cursed under my breath and staggered backward. Luckily, the construct didn’t fare much better. It recoiled, lowering its sword for a moment.
I sucked in a sharp lungful of air, the blades sprouting from my gauntlet raised like twin swords.
And why was I fighting for my life against these two faceless golems?
Let’s just say Octurna was whipping me into monster hunting shape. As soon as I had returned from my own funeral, my training had begun. Grueling sparring sessions, which went on for hours, defined both my days and nights at the Sanctuary. The sorceress claimed she was preparing me mentally and physically for the many battles that lay ahead. To be honest, I was chomping at the bit to return to the real world and hunt down the succubus who had ravaged my team, but Octurna had urged me to be patient. She assured me I would get my shot at vengeance—when the time was right.
In other words, I wasn’t allowed outside until Octurna thought I was ready to kick some demon ass.
Considering my military and SWAT background, I was no slouch. I was used to waving a gun around in my everyday life—responsibly, of course. But still, there was “a lot of room for improvement.” That’s a direct quote by the way. Octurna was always watching me, testing me. And thus far, I had failed to meet her exacting standards.
Fighting demons required a new approach, much different than police work. For one, the weapons were vastly different. Besides my magical gauntlet and a formidable arsenal of firearms loaded with silver and otherwise magically enhanced bullets, I was also learning about using magic and tapping into my dragon blood-enhanced physical abilities. I was faster, stronger, my senses sharper.
And talking about those heightened senses…
I picked up the soft rustle of the second construct’s robe and spun, lightning fast. Without hesitation, I snapped a silver dagger from the bandolier strapped around my chest and flung it at my attacker. The golem’s sword shot out and parried the knife aside in mid-flight.
Damn, these constructs were giving me a run for my money. I still didn’t quite know how these magical beings functioned. Were they conscious entities with their own thoughts and feelings, or just puppets under the command of the sorceress? How did they process reality without visible senses?
The answer was simple: magic.
“You must move faster! Strike harder. Show no mercy.”
I clenched my jaw, my irritation bubbling over. Octurna was enjoying this sparring session a bit too much. She stood in the arena’s stone bleachers like some spoiled Roman empress, her regal features untouched by the many aches and pains of prolonged hand-to-hand combat. She regarded me haughtily. She was a spectator, a coach, and a critic all rolled into one hauntingly beautiful package. And she was seemingly hellbent on pushing me past my limits.
“That’s your mistake, Jason. Don’t set boundaries for yourself.”
I shook my head. I would never get used to the sorceress poking around my mind like that.
“Knowing your limits is what keeps you alive,” I growled. “And get the hell out of my head! A man deserves a little privacy.”
“I thought there was no privacy in this new age of technology.”
I shot a glare at Octurna, and she stayed quiet. I returned my attention to the construct wheeling toward me, determined to strike me down with its sword.
This time I anticipated the move, and the double blades of my gauntlet blocked the sword while my other hand drew one of my silver daggers and drove it into the golem’s chest. The knife sliced through the creature’s black robe and found the rock-solid skin underneath.
I’d already learned that throwing a punch at one of these creatures was like starting a fight with a wall. But the magical properties of silver could breach their rocklike hide, and I felt the knife sinking in.
The golem stumbled backward, dropped its weapon. Cracks formed over the surface of the faceless construct, and it shattered into a hundred pieces, the robe collapsing on top of the crumbling body.
I loomed over the downed golem, the victor for this round. Even though the construct was a pile of rubble at the moment, it would be as good as new as soon as the sorceress flicked her wrist. The same held true for yours truly if I should get badly hurt during a sparring session. I had been stabbed, gutted, and even beheaded over the course of these matches, only to be restored at the end of each fight. Somehow the arena’s magic regenerated the combatants once the fight was over. It was like being part of a super-realistic video game.
Octurna was less impressed with my moves. She clapped her hands in mock applause. “Fool, don’t let a short-term victory make you lose sight of the larger battle. Don’t ever let your guard down until you’ve destroyed your enemy.”
I pivoted, knowing full well that the first attack had meant to distract me and allow the second construct to sneak up on me. I drew a fiery circle of crackling energy into the air with my left hand. I could feel the complex networks of tattoos on my body igniting with incredible power as I tapped into Octurna’s magic. The symbols were the conduit, the source of my new skills, but I was still learning how to use the magic.
The world turned crimson. And then an oval shield of pulsating energy exploded into existence around me. I snarled savagely as the golem’s sword bounced off the magical force field.
“That’s it, Jason,” Octurna called from the bleachers. “Use your magic, show me what you’ve learned.”
I learned you can be one hell of a pain in the ass.
I wisely didn’t verbalize that thought—though much good it would do me with Octurna poking around my head whenever she seemed to feel like it.
The shield shimmered and blinked out of existence.
The construct shook off the effects and came in for another attack. This time I drew a triangle into the air, and a blast of spectral green energy shot out at the relentless golem. It sent the creature flying across the stone arena and crashing into the circular wall that separated the combatants from the overhead bleachers.
“About high time you mastered the first two spells I taught you.”
This was Octurna’s idea of a compliment.
My spellcasting abilities were still in their infancy as Octurna loved to remind me. Two weeks of non-stop training had allowed me to get the hang of the Shield and Fireball spells. A few days earlier, Octurna had introduced a Teleportation spell to my repertoire. So far I had managed only twice to transport smaller objects through space for a couple of feet and more work remained before I would master this latest trick.
While I was adding combat magic to my arsenal, I was also gaining a deeper understanding of the rules governing my new skills. My spells were fueled by Octurna’s magical power source which meant that my powers were far from being unlimited. On average I could only cast two to three spells over a 24-hour period but mileage might vary depending on the exact nature of the magic trick.
The important takeaway was that I wouldn’t be able to win any battles using only my mystical skills. The spells were an excellent addition to my arsenal and would serve me well in a pinch, but for the most part I would have to rely on my weapons and reflexes. Fortunately, the dragon blood had done wonders for my strength and reaction speed.
“Finish your enemy,” Octurna urged me.
My eyes blazed as I zeroed in on the downed construct, gauntlet ready to plunge into the thing’s throat. But the golem had no qualms with playing dirty.
As I drew closer, the creature’s mannequin face morphed into that of a terrified woman. Blonde hair spilled from the hood of her robe, her big eyes stained with tears. Big softie that I am, I hesitated for a moment. That’s all it took for the golem to spring back to its feet and lunge at me, sword eager to pierce my foolish heart. And this time I wouldn’t be able to conjure a force field around me.
Reacting on pure instinct, I jumped. The dragon blood cours
ing through my body catapulted me upwards. The sword-wielding golem, still wearing the face of a murderous pin-up girl, passed six feet underneath me, her blade slicing thin air where my neck had been seconds earlier.
I spun around in mid-air and drove my gauntlet into the golem with savage ferocity as I descended. The second construct went down in a heaving mess. Blood burst from those lovely features, and I turned away, shaken by the sight of the dying woman. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t make it a habit of engaging the opposite sex in gladiatorial matches to the death.
“You’re a real gentleman, Jason. How sweet. That kind of weakness will get you killed out there.”
“Hey, I’m not a monster!” I protested.
“Then how do you expect to defeat monsters? Do you fight with what’s between your legs or what’s in your hands? You hesitated as soon as you saw a pretty face.”
I glared at Octurna, upset that she was right. The golem’s transformation had made me pause. Fuck, I’m only human, I thought.
“And then you’ll die like a human.”
Octurna leapt at me from the arena’s bleachers. Her red robe billowed around her as she soared toward me, her eyes blazing.
Stunned, I backed off. The sorceress had never joined the battle before, and it took me by surprise.
“You think the Shadow Cabal will fight fair?” she hissed. “You think that succubus will play by the rules when you face her again?” There was a flash of sizzling energy and the downed golems’ swords materialized in both of Octurna’s hands.
She rushed at me, eyes gleaming with lethal intensity. I reflexively brought up my gauntlet. The twin blades exploded through the pale skin of her swanlike neck in a spray of red. Shock rippled through me as the life left those mesmerizing emerald eyes, her gaze going blank. What had I done?
I dropped my arm, and Octurna’s gored form slipped off the crimson blades. I gently caught the sorceresses’ body and lowered her to the ground, my hand cradling her head.
A shiver ran up my spine, and my chest tightened. Dammit, Octurna had pretty much thrown herself into my blades…
And that’s when mocking laughter rang out around me. It echoed through the arena.
I looked up from the defeated witch and found myself surrounded by five robed figures who all looked like Octurna.
My initial shock turned to rage. The sorceress was messing with my head again. Another illusion, another game.
“Not games, my dear knight. Tests. What sort of monster do you take me for? I’m not going to send a child to do a man’s job.”
My lips pressed into a determined line as I whipped out two more daggers and hurled them at Octurna’s taunting mirror images. The knives cut through the air and struck two of the clones in their hearts.
They collapsed as I sprang to my feet, the blades on my gauntlet thirsty for more blood. Steel flashed, and I hacked a violent path through the circle of magical duplicates. I had grown tired of the sorceress’ manipulative games, her constant air of superiority. I was tired of this place, of the hours of training, of being trapped in a nightmare from which I couldn’t wake.
I wanted to return to my world, wanted to get the hell out of this haunted castle where you never knew what was real and what was just another magic trick.
I wanted my old life back, for fucks sake.
I cut the sorceress down again and again, blocking her vicious attacks, like an unstoppable machine that wouldn’t rest until my blades found an opening. Who knows how long the fight raged in the arena? All I remember is growing still when the last copy collapsed. I was surrounded by the broken forms of the sorceress, the air thick with blood and perspiration, the double knives of my gauntlet slick with gore.
“Are you happy now?” I growled. My voice sounded barely human to me, more beast than man. “Am I what you want me to be?”
“It’s not about what I want you to be,” a voice answered. I spun around, and Octurna was back in the bleachers, unharmed. The superior attitude was gone, replaced with a somber expression. Did I detect a hint of sadness in her perfect features, a chink in her icy armor? “This is what you have to become if you want to survive what lays ahead.”
A rumbling sound rang through the arena as the steel door swung open. The sparring session was over. Time to go back to my quarters.
“You had best get cleaned up,” Octurna said as I dragged my exhausted ass to the arena’s exit. “There are matters we must discuss.”
I frowned. This was a new development. Usually these sessions ended with Octurna wordlessly disappearing into the shadows, leaving me to return to the room she’d assigned to me in the Sanctuary. I would retire for a few hours of sleep before the golems would drag me from bed, and the same torture would repeat itself.
It sounded like things might play out differently this time around. The thought that I might get to face a monster soon spiked my adrenaline levels and even put a bounce in my steps despite my tiredness.
I walked through the open doorway and saw the two downed golems rise from the arena floor. No traces of their terrible injuries remained. Sure would be nice if it worked like that in the real world.
Exhaustion enveloped me as I made my way down a stone hallway lit by a row of sconces and up a winding staircase. The Sanctuary felt like a cross between Castle Grayskull and the Batcave, a multi-leveled labyrinth of hidden rooms, dim passageways and secret chambers, an area of mystery and ancient forbidden knowledge. Homey it wasn’t. And I very much doubted I could last a month in this spooky place, much less a whole century.
The door to my sleeping quarters opened before I could even touch the handle. It was one of the many unnerving details that defined life in the Sanctuary.
I entered the chamber, and the door slammed shut behind me.
I can open and close my own door, thank you very much, I thought.
Somehow, the tattoos I now shared with Octurna allowed her to track me at all times. Privacy didn’t exist in this place, and I couldn’t shake the impression that some magical camera was following my every move. The sorceress wasn’t letting me out of her sight, and it was driving me up the wall. I was used to having my freedom. Making matters worse, Octurna knew all my secrets while I knew none of hers. I was an open book while she remained an unsolvable puzzle.
Octurna stayed quiet on her end. Good. I was in no mood to talk, to be honest. My stomach growled as I fought back a yawn. The hours of combat had wiped me out, and I was looking forward to a hot bath, some good food, and the soft sheets of my bed. From experience I knew the moment I closed my eyes, Octurna’s loyal constructs would barge into my quarters and drag me to the next test or sparring lesson. Better to enjoy the momentary reprieve from the grind while I could.
My chambers held a certain medieval charm. There were no windows, but more sconces offered generous illumination. A fur rug of some beast I couldn’t—and probably wouldn’t want to—identify covered the stone floor, and a queen-sized bed decked out in soft, inviting blankets waited for my exhausted muscles.
I stripped off my clothes, snatched a towel, and wiped myself down. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I needed a snack before my bath. I must’ve burned thousands of calories over the course of the last few hours of non-stop sparring. I had always been in fighting shape, but now there was not even an inch of fat around my waist.
My eyes lit up excitedly when I spotted plates of food waiting for me on a nearby table. There was a bowl of fresh fruit and cheeses, a second bowl of mixed walnuts, pecans, and hazelnuts. I greedily grabbed a handful of nuts and washed them down with a flask of mineralized water. Then my attention turned to the delicious smelling chicken sitting on a silver platter. I had no idea how Octurna procured healthy, fresh food on a daily basis, not to mention who had prepared these delicacies. I didn’t quite see Whole Foods making deliveries to the Sanctuary, and Octurna certainly wasn’t the type to slave over a hot stove.
Then again, I had quickly learned to stop asking questions around this pl
ace, especially once I realized there would be no answers. Octurna had her way of doing things, and that was that.
My hunger somewhat satiated, I relaxed a little, and my breathing steadied. I was looking forward to washing all the blood and sweat and grime off my battered body. There was no form of entertainment in this place, no TV or internet or even books I could read. The only books were the ones downstairs in the observation chamber, and most of them were written in languages long dead and forgotten. Well, almost forgotten. Clearly, my lovely host had no problem understanding them. Even if the texts were in English, I doubted I would have been able to make heads or tails out of the knowledge contained within those pages.
I finished undressing and turned to the adjoining bathing area. Calling it a bathroom didn’t quite do it justice. The first time I explored my quarters, a part of me thought I had taken a wrong turn and accidentally ended up in the infamous grotto at the Playboy mansion. An expansive jacuzzi had been carved into the rock, the water kept at the perfect temperature. More water flowed down the cave walls, springing from some unknown source. I decided to not waste any more mental energy trying to figure out how this place worked and tried to enjoy myself. Maybe the sorceress was too weak to battle dragons and super wizards, but she had enough juice left to keep her Sanctuary running in style.
The water both relaxed and invigorated my sore muscles. I dipped under and closed my eyes, doing my best to block everything out for a few blissful moments. But images from my crazy new life intruded my thoughts. And foremost among them was Octurna herself. I saw her glistening, naked body in my mind’s eye, remembered the heat of our physical encounter on the altar. I hated her drill sergeant ways and how she kept me at arm’s length but another part…okay, I admit, inviting her over for a dip in the hot tub had crossed my mind.
Get your head on straight, buddy, and I’m talking about the one between your ears.
But now that I had eaten my evening meal, another appetite was taking hold. A sound near the door drew my attention. I let out a surprised gasp when I realized I wasn’t alone in the grotto anymore. Two monk-like figures peeled from the shadows, their faces shrouded by their hooded robes.
Night Slayer: Midnight War Page 6