Dragan

by Plum Pascal

  “I will,” Revenant assures him, and I immediately feel that jealous anger settling over me again. It’s my fucking job to guard her. I’ve already taken up that mantle. Fuck whoever says or thinks otherwise.

  Pyre nods to the rest of us before he disappears into thin air.

  “Open the door,” Aima says. Cambion looks at her as if she’s lost her mind. I have to admit, I’m surprised as well.

  “Aima,” he starts.

  “Open the fucking door,” she repeats. “And then get upstairs and out of view. The best way out of this town is by rooftop.”

  “Thank you,” Cambion says and she nods at him before turning towards me.

  “Gargoyle,” she says, unsheathing her sword and tossing it to me. “Take this. I’ll get it back from you later…”

  I nod my thanks as I take a step back and allow the impressive blade to fall on the ground so it doesn’t take my hand off. Then I reach over and pick it up. “Later?” I say to her. “That means you expect us to survive?”

  She smiles. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I chuckle and watch as she simply walks through the door, as though she hasn’t a care in the world. Kolvar is at her side. It’s clear she’s buying us time to attempt an escape, and the last thing I want to do is squander that opportunity.

  With Aima’s sword in one hand, I start for the stairs, Eilish just behind me and Revenant behind her. Flumph floats around our heads and I have to bat him away a few times. Bloody annoying thing.

  We pass Raflamir, who whimpers, “I’m sorry... I had no choice.”

  As he walks past, Revenant punches the Steward’s face, and Raflamir goes limp as he hits the ground. Cambion follows closely behind Revenant. They take the stairs two at a time. Once on the second, hidden floor, we crawl out one of the windows and climb onto the roof.

  Aima was correct—the roof is untended by Variant’s men. They’re all on the ground, surrounding Raflamir’s derelict house. It won’t be long before they spot us, though.

  I run ahead, showing the others where to jump to the next rooftop. Holding Eilish’s hand, I tell her not to look down. Meanwhile, shouts from the ground reveal the fact that we’ve been spotted. Fairly soon after, soldiers begin to climb onto the roofs that surround us. Before I know it, one appears on the rooftop onto which we’ve just landed.

  I dodge a sword as it swings toward my head. Then I run the bastard through with my blade. Grabbing his sword, I throw it to Cambion, who nods his thanks.

  “Back up,” I say to Eilish as another soldier jumps in front of me. I block a few of the soldier’s attempts with his blade and then thrust my sword clean through his stomach.

  From the corner of my eye, I can see Cambion and Revenant fighting two other soldiers, as still more attempt to climb up to the roof. Eilish gasps as a hand appears just beside her foot. Using the dagger Pyre gave her, she stabs the soldier in the hand, where he holds onto the lip of the roof. He screams as something dark feeds from the dagger and sinks into his skin. Soon, his eyes are black and the mist travels out of his nostrils, his mouth, and his ears. He topples off the roof and slams into the ground. His body begins to smoke and, moments later, all that’s left is his clothing.

  Eilish stares down at the weapon in her hand in horror, shaking from head to toe. “Wh… what did it do?”

  “It’s a soul blade,” I inform her. “Necromancers us it to leach the souls of their victims into the hilt of the dagger to fuel their power.”

  Eilish glances back down at the blade and her expression is one of fear.

  Cambion shouts above the fray, taking a soldier who approaches him head on. At Cambion’s back, Revenant uses his fangs to tear the throat from one of our attackers. Blood pours down his chin.

  “Go!” Revenant screams at me, motioning to Eilish. He wants me to get her out of here and understandably so. I nod and grab Eilish as I prepare to jump to the next rooftop.

  “Wait,” Eilish says, turning to look at the sprite who is in the midst of vomiting off the side of the roof. Once finished, he faces us, flapping his wings as he tries to catch up. Eilish drops my hand and runs to the sprite, catching him around the middle as she turns around. Instantly, there’s a soldier in front of her. Judging by his pitiable swordsmanship, he’s been poorly trained. I easily disarm him and gut him, grabbing her hand as I lead her forward.

  “Don’t risk your life again for anyone,” I yell at her.

  She says nothing and Cambion rushes to my side with Revenant on his heels. “Raflamir had no choice,” he says, as if to defend his choice in coming here. “Variant threatened to take everything from him.”

  “I don’t fucking care,” I snarl in response.

  “Raflamir could have died with honor,” Revenant growls, and I agree.

  “It wasn’t so long ago that we were in a similar situation,” Cambion argues.

  “Of course, you side with the traitor!” I shove Cambion away from me. “There’s more at risk than just Raflamir’s livelihood.”

  The elf shoves me back. “Traitor? You fucking lied to me about what that witch truly is!” Then he glares at Eilish which only incites my fury even more.

  “I never lied to you. I just omitted,” I correct him as I remind myself to save this conversation for another time. I ignore Cambion and turning my back on him, leap to another rooftop, Eilish right behind me.

  “If you want to discuss the subject of traitors, you’re the ultimate example!” Cambion yells at me.

  “No more arguing!” Eilish shouts. “Now is not the time!”

  We’re surrounded by Variant’s men. There are six of them on the rooftop with us and countless more on the ground below. And there are no more rooftops on which to land.

  “Fuck!” I yell as I take the soldier nearest me with my blade. He drops, but where one falls, three more appear. They climb up the side of the dilapidated hovel on which we’re standing and face us with desperation in their eyes. Part of the roof has already caved in and I can see a hive of Variant’s men infiltrating the house below us.

  An endless sea of Variant’s forces swarm from all directions. I fight them off as best I can, but I’m overpowered.

  “Dragan, what do we do?” Eilish cries from beside me. I glance down at her to see her eyes wide with fear.

  “We keep,” I start but at the feel of a slight pain in my left thigh, I glance down to see what appears to be a dart sticking out of my leg. A poison dart.

  Fuck.

  Reaching down, I yank the offending thing out of me, but the poison has already leached into my bloodstream. I already feel woozy and lightheaded. Eilish cries out as soldiers surround us and my sword is unceremoniously thrust from my hand. I feel her being ripped away from me but there’s nothing I can do. The poison forces me to my knees. The scenery surrounding me begins to blur. I have to shake my head to keep my wits, but they’re fading fast. A foot slams into my neck as my face crashes into the roof beneath me. Shingles scrape my cheek. Someone claps spell-crafted cuffs onto my wrists after pulling them behind my back.

  My vision goes black.

  I fight against the sleep that seeks to lull me into oblivion.

  The last thing I hear before losing myself to the shadows is the sound of Eilish’s panicked cries.

  ~

  To be continued in Baron, the 3rd book in the Sacred Oath Series,

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  Excerpt from To Kill A Warlock

  I picked up my feet and started jogging, enjoying the fact that I seemed to be the only person awake at this hour. There’s a certain intimacy to the night when you don’t have to share it with anyone. The sound of my feet pounding against the pavement was my own type of meditation; the chirp of crickets overlaid with the shuffling of various night creatures music to my ears.

  I started up the base of a large hill, looking forward to cresting the top. The steep incline was making itself known in the burn of my calves. I hadn’t gone for a run in over a week. Usually, it didn’t sting like this.

  “You can do it,” I whispered to myself. Hey, even the magical sometimes need a few words of encouragement.

  Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes and pushed my legs into the ground. The asphalt leveled off and my muscles relaxed. I opened my eyes with a grin. My gaze focused and my smile faded.

  A man stood directly in front of me—maybe ten feet away.

  I gasped and stopped in my tracks. Every nerve in my body was alert and standing at attention. My body was poised, ready to rebuff an attack. It was a built-in response in law enforcement. You never know when some asshole’s going to try to make your day.

  The man was dressed in black. His hooded sweatshirt hung low over his face, making him look like the Grim Reaper, only without the scythe. He dropped the hood, and in the moonlight, I recognized the stranger from Fabian’s store.

  I sucked in a breath. He was just as beautiful as I’d first thought. His black hair had the same reflective quality as raven’s wings and glowed under the moonbeams. The moonlight heightened the angular planes of his face, throwing shadows beneath his cheeks and the square lines of his jaw.

  Even if he was beautiful, that didn’t mean he wasn’t here to kill me. And as far as I was concerned, he was here to kill me.

  “What do you want?” I said, taking a step back, my feet shoulder width apart and my body tuned to lunge into action should this stranger make a wrong move. Then I remembered I’d left my Op 6 with the dragon blood bullets on the floor next to my bed. How convenient. Well, I could nail him with a lightning bolt or maybe make the ground open up and swallow him.

  He made the mistake of coming toward me.

  I shook my palm until a mound of fairy dust emerged. I blew the particles at him and imagined him frozen. He stopped mid-gait, like he was stuck in freeze frame; the ice surrounding him twinkled like diamonds. I dropped my shoulders, moving my right arm in a circle, trying to get the blood back into my shoulder. I’d held myself so straight, awaiting his attack, I felt a bit frozen myself.

  Either way, I’d just taken down the man who’d probably killed Fabian.

  No help from anyone. No problem. Dulcie O’Neil: Regulator extraordinaire. Just what I needed for my review.

  I neared him carefully, trying to figure out what the hell he’d wanted from me. No sooner did the thought leave my head, then the ice shattered around him and dropped in an ineffectual mound. I jumped back as a bolt of fear shot through me. As if he’d never even been frozen, he strode toward me again, and he didn't appear to be in a forgiving mood.

  I backed up and throwing another handful of fairy dust, imagined a circle of fire surrounding him. He walked right through it. Just walked through the flames like they weren’t even there. Not good. Really not good.

  “Stop screwing around,” he said in a deep, harsh voice. “I just want to talk.”

  “Then stop walking.”

  He didn’t take my advice, so with another thrust of fairy dust, I pictured a lightning bolt. Once I had it sizzling in my hand, I unloaded it on him. He took the bolt right in the chest and fell with the weight of it, landing on his back. It looked like it had not only taken him down, but knocked him completely out. He had to be dead. No one could survive that much energy. Well, maybe a vampire could, but somehow I didn’t think this guy was a vamp.

  I kicked his foot, and it shifted slightly but it was an involuntary motion. He was out cold. Which meant I was safe. I squatted down on my calves and reached for his neck, intending to check for a pulse. As soon as I touched him, I felt myself fly through the air and land flat on my back, the air completely pushed out of my lungs.

  Then the stranger was atop me, holding my arms down with a superhuman strength. Maybe he was a vampire.

  Stars exploded behind my eyes like a fireworks show. I closed my eyes and forced myself to see through the stars. If I passed out, I was as good as dead—it was an open invitation for this jerk to rape or kill me or something worse. I opened my eyes again and could clearly focus on his face as it loomed above me. He wore no expression—just stoic placidity.

  “Behave yourself and I’ll let you up.”

  I just nodded, the wheezing in my chest admitting its own kind of defeat. “What do you want?”

  “To talk. I tried to reach you in your dreams but you ignored me.”

  “Who are you?” I managed to choke out.

  “Can we go somewhere more private? I don’t want the neighbors to wake up.”

  I narrowed my eyes. It was just as it had been in Fabian’s store. There was absolutely no hint of anything—not the smell of a werewolf, nor the pounding in my blood that usually hinted at a vampire. Zip, zilch, nada, nothing.

  “There’s a park up the street. Should be empty and there aren’t any houses nearby,” I managed. “That means you’ll have to get off me.”

  He stood, but watched me as if ready to pounce. “Lead the way.”

  I got to my feet, rubbing the pain out of my hands. I met his eyes and immediately started forward, keeping a sizable gap between us.

  “How’d you get into my dream?”

  He smiled, and his teeth reflected the moonlight. But I was more concerned with the fact that I couldn’t detect any fangs.

  “I have that capability. The power of persuasion. I persuaded you to let me in.”

  Eerie. “What are you?”

  He stopped walking. I stopped walking.

  “How about introductions first? I’m Knight and you’re Dulcie. Nice to meet you.”

  He extended his hand, but I didn’t take it—I had no clue what he wanted. Best to keep my defenses up. He dropped his hand, and we started walking again.

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I’m from the A.N.C. Relations Office in the Netherworld.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slate tablet about the width of my palm. He handed it to me. I noted his image that appeared on the tablet—the stone turning into what looked like a screen. It was a three-dimensional photo—three dimensional to make it difficult to forge. I searched for the indentation on the back that would prove it was an original. I’d met a handful of people from the A.N.C. Relations Office and knew what their badges looked like. I found the indentation on the back and slipped my thumb into the slit.

  “Dulcie O’Neil, Regulator, Splendor,” a computerized voice read out from the screen. So far, so good.

  “I wish to know if you have a … Knight among the Relations Office employees,” I said, eyeing the subject all the while.

  The tablet was quiet as it searched its profiles. “Knightley Vander, Association of Netherworld Creatures, Relations Officer, third precinct.”

  So he wasn’t lying. I handed the slate tablet back.

  “Believe me now?” he asked.

  It was impossible for someone to fake a Netherworld badge to this extent. It had to be real. “Yeah, okay. What are you?”

  We reached the park, and Knight took a seat on one of the swings. He looked ridiculous but, okay, sexy. Ahem, really sexy.

  “You haven’t come across my species before. There are
n’t any of us on Earth.”

  That explained why I couldn’t tell what kind of creature he was.

  “So you’re from the Netherworld?”

  “Yes, I’m a Loki. We were born from the fires of Hades.”

  A Loki. Weird. I’d always thought Hades was just a fable.

  “So what can you do?” I asked, sounding like a kid comparing video games.

  “I can withstand fire for one thing,” he said and laughed, thinking himself funny. I didn’t.

  “What do you do for the Relations Office?”

  He shifted back and forth in the swing, shuffling his feet. “I’m a detective.”

  I leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree, crossing one foot over the other. I was trying to look relaxed but finding it difficult.

  “What brought you here?”

  Knight stopped swinging. “Someone called a creature from the Netherworld to Splendor, and the same creature killed the warlock.”

  “Fabian?” I gulped. So Knight was involved, but only so far as he was investigating. Damn. The finger was still pointing at me. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  He started swinging again, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t think you did. I’m here to find out where the creature is and who summoned it.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  He shrugged. “You’re a Regulator and this is your territory. I thought I should pay you the courtesy of informing you I was here so we could … work together.”

  “But you never registered at Headquarters. If you’re so interested in working with us, why not register and why not come to Headquarters to find me? Why talk to Angela about me?”

  He arched a brow, and that same slow smile slid over his lips like a snake. “You did your homework. It’s confidential as to why I didn’t register.”

  I frowned. “Confidential? I’m law enforcement, too, in case you forgot.”