Ender of Worlds: A Morgan Rook Supernatural Thriller (The Order of Shadows Book 4) Read online

  Ender of Worlds

  Kit Hallows

  ENDER OF WORLDS

  By Kit Hallows

  Copyright © 2017 by Kit Hallows. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

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  To Rhiannon, Pip & other hellions

  1

  Red and blue strobes flashed like lightning across the misty rain and the puddles at my feet. The very air around me pulsed with color and I braced myself as another wave of gunfire thundered into the cop car I was lodged behind.

  The entire car rattled, glass exploded from the windows above me and fell like glittering ice on the wet road.

  I glanced back along the jagged row of black and white cars hastily parked in the middle of the street. The rhythm of red and blue was almost hypnotic. Then the cops returned fire, their guns blazing in the rain as the rounds pelted the facade of the bank and I quickly looked away as they ducked back down.

  The door felt smooth and cold against my face as I pressed up against it, then another salvo of bullets blasted out the rear window, I kept my head down, catching my reflection in the dark oily puddle. The police uniform I was wearing made me look like a real professional. Focused, disciplined even. It could have been a good look but in reality it was just an illusion. Samuel had done well, but the spell would only hold for so long and the last thing I needed was a jumpy cop spotting my ratty old coat and the sword stashed under it.

  I winced as another hail of bullets rocked the car and clenched my jaw as I waited for the lull.

  There.

  I glanced through the shattered window toward the bank. It was a wide building with a tall portico supported by broad pillars, and polished granite walls riddled with bullet holes. Two robbers were holed up behind those pillars; somewhere inside was the third culprit, and he was wielding magic. Hence the rushed and scrambled phone call summoning me to the scene.

  “Rook!” Haskins squatted beside the car next to mine. His face was a twisted mix of fear and excitement, and in that moment he once again reminded me of a gargoyle in a raincoat. “To me!” He glanced over the hood of his bullet riddled squad car and fired half a dozen rounds. The rest of the cops joined in and I used their cover to scurry over to him.

  “Can’t you do something?” Haskins demanded, his voice gruff. “Like now!”

  “Do what?” I called as the robbers fired back. Splinters of glass exploded around us, splashing into the puddles at our feet.

  “You know, some of that hocus pocus shit.”

  I nodded to the dozen or so cops around us. “Sure. If you want me to draw even more attention to our world.” I couldn’t use magic, not with so many blinkered witnesses. I'd have to get inside, where there was more cover.

  “What the hell is that?” Haskins shouted as a bright, colorful pulse soared over us.

  A wyvern formed of fiery light, its elongated head ablaze as it swooped over the cars, lashing its spiked tail, flapping its scaly wings and freaking out the cops behind us. It was illusion magic. Powerful illusion magic, and it was more than just a terrifying distraction, it was mapping out our positions for its master.

  I grabbed a crystal from my pocket and used its magic to drain the wyvern’s power. It turned ghostly as I stole its color and magic, and fell in a hail of cinders that sizzled on the asphalt.

  This was a bad development. Our kind had always kept themselves hidden from the blinkereds, even the criminals, because we all knew that when push came to shove, if the blinkereds caught wind of us, we’d be finished. That as evolved as they seemed, they were just a hair’s breadth from going savage. And that they had lots and lots of weapons at their disposal, weapons that could decimate everything around us and turn the world into a smoking crater.

  But the bastard brashly wielding magic in the bank didn’t seem to give a damn about any of that. Which meant I had to shut them down, and fast.

  I grabbed the enhanced scope from my bag and swept its charged crystal lens toward the walls of the building, revealing the fiery red beating hearts of the two robbers holding their position at the entrance.

  They were clearly scared, amped up, and prepared to deal with anyone that approached them. I’d have to take them down before I could get inside. Once I was in, I’d need to be quick, eliminating the magician and as much evidence of his handiwork as possible before the cops caught sight of it.

  I reached into my bag and pulled out a handful of crystals. They glimmered in my palm as I drew my fingers around them.

  “What the hell are you doing now? A frigging faith healing?” Haskins demanded. “Quit with the flaky hippy bullshit and do something!”

  “I am.” I shivered as the magic coursed through me and I focused its energy into creating a line of illusory cops at the end of the street. Samuel had shown me the trick and it was convincing as hell, but it took a lot of energy and I wasn't exactly an expert yet.

  The crystals grew hot in my hand as I harnessed their power and maneuvered the row of ghostly cops toward the bank, drawing the robbers’ attention and gunfire while I prepared to make my move.

  “What are they doing, who gave that order?” Haskins squinted at the fake cops.

  “They’re not real,” I said, “listen, I’m going in. Wait for my signal and when you see it, tell your boys to hold their fire. Got it?”

  He nodded numbly as I raced through the rain. Gunfire continued to roar out from behind the pillars but the blinkered criminals were still focused on the illusions.

  I slipped past, almost reaching the bank without being riddled by bullet holes, when a bolt of fire shot out toward me like a blazing spear.

  2

  I ducked the flames as they roared over me and seared the side of my face. The spell’s trajectory led back to the bank entrance where a man stood, a staff of power in hand.

  His features were stony below his wild ash-grey hair, and he was dressed in dark archaic robes. Our eyes locked, and he raised the staff again, unleashing another deadly bolt.

  I pulled my coat up over my head, its armor-like enchantments dispersed the worst of the heat, but I still felt like I’d tumbled into the fires of hell. I peered out as the man shouted to his accomplices and strode back into the bank.

  Within moments the pair leaped out and fired, their bullets ricocheting off the ground and the wall around me.

  I ran hard as the cops fired back, forcing the robbers to take cover. Their onslaught bought me enough time to leap up the steps and dive behind a pillar.

  One of my targets, a dead-eyed man about my age, spotted me and fired. Chunks of stone exploded around me as I ducked away. I glanced back as the cops returned fire, riddling his arm with bullets. He fell to the ground clutching his wrist as he inched toward his fallen weapon. I shot him before he could grab it, then his partner leaped from behind his pillar and tried to stumble inside the bank, but another hail of gunfire peppered him with lead.

  “Hold!” I shouted
and gestured to the car where Haskins had taken cover.

  An eerie silence fell across the place as I broke cover and ran to the front doors. They slid open as I cast a simple spell over the threshold to stop any cops from following. At least for a while.

  I summoned the rest of the crystal’s magic and used it to reveal the fire magician’s footsteps. They burst into light like a winding path of flares leading back to the vault. Cries and whimpers echoed across the foyer from the tellers and customers who lay sprawled out, their hands stretched before them. “Stay down,” I said. “Got it?” A few nodded and cried garbled promises of compliance.

  I’d almost reached the counter when a bullet hit me square in the chest, sending me staggering back. The enchantment in my coat stopped the round but it still hurt like hell. I glanced up the wide flight of steps toward the upper floor as someone ducked down.

  “You're next,” I said as I hunkered down behind a desk, grabbed a small mirror from my bag and angled it toward the stairs.

  The man peered over the balcony as he took aim. Moments later a bullet whistled toward the mirror, nearly shattering the glass.

  I swiped the mirror’s surface and zoomed in on my target.

  He was blinkered, and as our eyes met I befuddled him with a quick paralysis spell. He remained frozen as I ran for the stairs. I reached the top, seized his gun, and used the butt to knock him out cold.

  I glanced down as footsteps echoed across the marble floor below. A man emerged from the vault, his gun held before him. I leaped onto the balcony rail and dropped, taking him down hard.

  Two more robbers appeared, their black canvas bags stuffed with cash. Between them was a man that had to be the bank manager. He had the look; a thin jittery frame, a perfectly tailored suit and preoccupied eyes framed by silver designer glasses. I’d been turned down for credit by jerks like him more times than I cared to mention.

  My reflexes were faster than the thug beside him. He raised his gun toward the manager’s head, trying to get leverage over me. I shot before he knew what had happened, taking him out with a bullet to the heart.

  I pulled my coat around me as his partner returned fire. Bullets pinged around me and a few struck me hard. I waited for the click of the empty magazine before firing back. His gun fell from his hand as the round struck his shoulder, then I punched him, sending him crumpling to the ground.

  Only the manager’s girlish whimpering broke the silence that had fallen over the building.

  Something was wrong. I’d failed to catch something.

  I glanced at the thugs sprawled on the bloody polished floor. They’d been sent out as a distraction. What had I missed?

  A moment of time…

  …and something else.

  But what?

  3

  I wanted to tear through the place, search every nook and cranny, but I forced myself to concentrate on the things I’d overlooked in the heat of the fight.

  The magician…

  … he’d strode past as his thugs engaged me, several black canvas duffle bags draped over his shoulder, each enchanted to be as light as air. He’d moved outside my field of time, but only just enough for me to miss him.

  I started toward the front doors but stopped. He was long gone. He’d slipped out of the building and down the street leaving spent gun shells, some dead goons and an empty vault in his wake. “Who is he?” I demanded of the shooter squealing like a pig on the ground, his jacket soaked with blood as he clenched it to his wounded arm.

  He shook his head. “I ain’t telling you shit.”

  “They always say that.” I sighed.

  “Who?” He spat on the ground.

  “Criminals. Thugs. Idiots. But I break them all, just like I’ll break you. Now give me the name of your pal that just walked out of here with all the cash and left you behind holding the baby, loaded diaper and all.”

  “Go fuck yourself!”

  I pressed the gun in his wound until he roared with agony. And then I held it to his head. “Who is he?”

  He gazed at me for a moment, and it almost looked as if he was going to talk, then his eyes got hazy and took on a strange, milky hue. Before I could react, he reached up and pressed my finger to the trigger.

  The gun roared, the air misted red and most of his face vanished to gore.

  “What the fuck?”

  Shock passed through me in a bludgeoning wave and my ears rang with the din. It took a moment to discern the whimpers coming from the people lying on the cold floor with their hands over their heads.

  I glanced through the distant glass to the wet grey world beyond. The cops hadn’t made it to the door. Presumably Haskins was holding them back, but I doubted he could keep it up for much longer. When they got in, there’d be questions. And not just about the corpses, they’d want to know about all the weird shit that had taken place too. The line of illusionary cops, the fireballs, and that frigging wyvern made of light.

  I pulled out my phone and called Erland.

  No answer. Again.

  I hadn't spoken to him since my battle with Elsbeth Wyght, even then, the call had been brief and he’d been beyond evasive. My announcement to him of Wyght’s demise had been met with scant relief, then he’d growled at me to keep my head down and lay low for a while.

  His number rang on a loop, but just before I hung up I heard a click.

  “Humble.”

  Humble… it took a moment to realize I was talking to one of Erland’s partners. A man at The Organization I’d never laid eyes on, let alone spoken with and something in his voice sent a cold shiver through me.

  “Humble!” he said again. This time there was a trace of anger in his tone. And then he said, “Rook?”

  I hung up.

  What the hell was going on?

  The thudding from the entrance dragged me from my reverie. The cop hammered on the doors with his fist as another tried to pry them open. I called Haskins and watched him through the glass as he answered. “I’ll let them in, but keep 'em away from me. I need to get out of here.”

  “You’re involved now, you can’t just leave!” Haskins glared my way.

  “I can and will. If you want me to catch the bastard who did this, let me go about my business and you go about yours. Right?”

  He stared at me for a moment before ordering the cops to step back. I walked to the door, discharged the enchantment that had held them back, and strode through, tipping my illusory cap as I went.

  4

  Rain drops spattered the sidewalk as I crossed the city and headed for the magical quarter. The air was thick, charged, and full of static from the storm threatening to unleash itself. It had been building for days and the breaking point was close. Just like the city. I could feel it all; the tension in the streets, the fear, the sense of things coming to a head, or possibly to an end. Something had to give, and I was pretty sure that when it did, I’d be smack bang in the middle of it.

  A car roared by, drenching the sidewalk as I made my way onto Lunar Avenue. I wanted to grab a crystal and send a curse after the driver but thought better of it. Onwards. I was looking forward to catching up with Astrid and Samuel.

  It had been days since they’d stepped through my bedroom mirror and set out for the Hinterlands. Allegedly they were heading off to look for clues as to the whereabouts of Endersley, but I was pretty sure the timing had more to do with giving me some space after my battle with Elsbeth Wyght, as well as time to deal with the tempest of emotions that had followed. The savage, victorious highs and the desolate feelings of emptiness. Losing the foe I’d been on the trail of for years, coupled with the curious silence of my dark other had been one hell of an adjustment. I’d slept for days, and when I’d woken the apartment had been empty and the cats subdued.

  I slowed as I reached Nika’s Diner, looking through the windows for a sign of Astrid or Samuel. Nothing. Not even in the gloomy booths toward the back. I pulled my phone out and called the burner phone I’d given Astrid.r />
  “You’re late,” Samuel said, through a tumult of shouts and braying laughter in the background.

  “Where are you?” I peered down the street as people huddled through the growing torrent of rain.

  “We decided ale was in order. And that revelation led us to a charming little establishment called The Lucky Coin. You should join us.”

  Great. I glanced to the tavern, just a few doors down from Nika’s. It was possibly the last bar I’d have chosen in the quarter, and that was saying something.

  I stood before its flaking emerald green facade and peered through the bullseye glass in the window. The bar room was as dark as the clouds sailing overhead with only a scattering of candles illuminating the thuggish patrons within.

  The battered front door looked like it was about ready to fall off its hinges and the beer coasters taped to its tiny window seemed to be the only things keeping the glass intact. I did my best to overlook the stench of yeast and piss that loomed at the threshold as I stepped inside.

  Music blared through dusty black speakers. The singer, who or whatever it was, sounded like they were standing on a distant hill screaming through a megaphone while a band of mad Vikings charged at them playing thrash metal. It was something I'd have expected to encounter in Dauple's car, and I had to wonder if he was now moonlighting as their DJ. The place was packed, mostly with undesirables. Brutish men, brutish women, a troll or two and a group of pale sickly warlocks. More than a few dagger-like stares were thrown my way as I crossed the sawdust strewn floor. I ignored them. I hadn’t come to fight, I’d come to find my friends and hopefully get them the hell out of this place.

  Loud, hearty laughter boomed through the murk, and I followed it to find Samuel regaling a dodgy-looking congregation. Astrid sat beside him in the booth, leaning against the wall. Was she asleep? If so, I was impressed.