Dawn of the Shadow (Legacy of the Shadow’s Blood Book 4) Read online

  Dawn of the Shadow

  Legacy of the Shadow’s Blood™ Book 4

  E.G. Bateman

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2020 LMBPN Publishing

  Cover by Fantasy Book Design

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, October 2020

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-258-5

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-259-2

  The Dawn of the Shadow Team

  Thanks to our Beta Readers:

  John Ashmore, Kelly O’Donnell, Larry Omans, Rachel Beckford

  Thanks to our JIT Team:

  Micky Cocker

  Paul Westman

  John Ashmore

  Larry Omans

  Editor

  SkyHunter Editing Team

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Author Notes - E.G. Bateman

  Acknowledgments

  The Fugitive Legacy

  Other Books from E.G. Bateman

  Other LMBPN Publishing Books

  Connect with The Authors

  Dedications

  For my brother, Steve Brophy.

  Punk’s not dead!

  And Alan, the cat.

  Meow!

  — E.G. Bateman

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  — Michael Anderle

  Chapter One

  Carolyn peeked out from the tree line and took her boyfriend’s hand. “See? No one’s here. It’s okay. Come on.”

  With a giggle, she tugged insistently and pulled him into the small circular clearing and toward the stone altar in the center.

  She wasn’t supposed to bring outsiders to her coven’s place of ritual but she was fairly certain he was allowed to go wherever he wanted.

  He looked around nervously and held back. “You didn’t tell anyone we were coming here, did you? I don’t want to be turned into a groundhog by a coven of angry witches.”

  A smile crossed her face as she stood in front of him, took his other hand, and hauled him closer to the altar. “Of course not. My parents would hit the roof if they found out I was dating a Kindred. They’d prefer I found a nice, boring boy from a witching family. Anyway, why do you care? Are you ashamed of me?” She pouted.

  When she released his hands, he put an arm around her neck and drew her closer to kiss the top of her head. “Silly. I thought this might be blasphemous or against the rules or something.” He relented and walked beside her for a few steps before he stopped again. His face twisted into a grimace and he shuddered and rubbed his cheeks. “I feel like I walked through a spider’s web.”

  “That’s the wards. My witch magic has given you access to the circle.”

  His grin was a little teasing. “Well, thank you, ma’am.”

  She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I’d have thought you would be more familiar with our practices. You’re supposed to be leaders of all the supernatural communities, including us witches.”

  They reached the center of the circle and strolled past the tall unlit torches affixed to posts driven into the ground. He smiled at her. “We try to not get too involved. We’re here to protect you, not control you.”

  Carolyn stood with her back to the altar, leaned her elbows on the smooth stone, and shook her blonde hair. She gazed at him with a playful expression. “You could control me if you like.” She raised her eyebrows and bit her lower lip suggestively.

  After a glance at their surroundings, he moved close, slid his arms around her, and lifted her to sit on the altar. He stood on a stone step beside the edifice and stroked her hair.

  She looked into his eyes, then down and toyed with a button on his shirt. “I’ll be sad when you have to leave. I assume that’ll be soon?”

  “We’ve interviewed everyone we needed to. I’m convinced the shifters know something—particularly the guy who runs the bar and maybe a couple of other people—but the higher-ups won’t give us permission to investigate further.”

  “Investigate further?” She frowned. “You mean extract their memories? That seems barbaric.”

  “Do I look like a barbarian to you?” He swept her hair behind her ear. “The rogue we’re after is a kidnapper and murderer. Besides, I’ve come up with a plan. I think I’ll be able to stay a little longer.”

  Carolyn beamed at him. “Really?”

  Ignoring the question, he slid his hands down her sides as he kissed her neck and whispered in her ear, “Give me a buzz again like last time. That was so hot.”

  The young witch flinched. “It made me hot too. It burned my hands, remember? I don’t think our magic is meant to mix like that.”

  He took her hands and kissed the palms. “I fixed it, didn’t I?” He grinned “Besides, it’s exciting to do things we’re not supposed to do.”

  Without waiting for a response, he took her hands and placed them on his forehead but she pulled back.

  When he frowned, she shrugged.

  “I need an earthly substance to conduct the magic.” She unstoppered the vial of oil she wore around her neck and put a drop in her palm before she resealed it and rubbed her hands together.

  Again, he took her hands but this time, lowered his face to them and inhaled deeply. “Mmm…my lavender girl.” He moved her hands to his forehead.

  She didn’t resist this time and instead, whispered the incantation.

  His breath caught as the magical energy flowed from her into him. Her palms grew hot and she started to pull her hands away but he caught hold of them and covered them with his own. “I’ll use the magic to protect your hands. Let’s see if we can get it to flow through us in circles.”

  “Would that bind us? I could be your new blood match.” She frowned slightly when he stiffened.

  “That’s already a complicated situation.” He kissed her. “But I have big plans for you, beautifu
l.”

  Carolyn considered his idea of drawing the energy in circles. It might work, and if they reused the same energy, it wouldn’t exhaust her. She was also curious about sorcerer air magic and wondered if it would feel as good for her as her earth magic did for him. Persuaded, she began the incantation again.

  Her eyes widened when the white energy in his unhealing scar began to turn red and she looked into his face. He looked enraptured with his eyes closed and muttered words she couldn’t hear. She had no pain in her hands this time so she assumed his spell was working.

  After about a minute, it occurred to her that he seemed to be receiving far more from this than she was. In fact, she began to feel a little dizzy. She swayed and he moved a hand to her back to hold her close to him. The burning heat returned to her hand and she tried to pull it away from him, but both seemed to have melted to his skin. His face was feverish. As she stared at him in pain and consternation, he began to change. It was as though a glamor began to fade. She gaped when she realized that was exactly what was happening.

  The young woman’s expression froze in shock when she was suddenly able to see the madness in his eyes. They were filled with swirling red energy and magical scars traced all over his face. He wasn’t the kind and playful Kindred who had seduced her for the past couple of weeks. Panic mounted when she reached the unequivocal conclusion that he was insane.

  “Babe? I can’t… Let me…” Everything blurred and went dark.

  Warren held the young witch and muttered his spell to keep the magical energy flowing. He breathed deeply while the power streamed into him until it finally stuttered to a halt and settled to burn in his core like molten lava. He withdrew his arms and she slumped forward.

  “Are you still with us, Caroline? Carolyn? Whatever your name is?” He tapped her face and shook her. She looked drawn and empty. He laid her along the length of the altar and checked her carotid with no result. “That’s a no, then.” The legacy stepped back and looked absently at his surroundings as he paced in thought. There was no room for error. He had to be sure he’d thought of everything.

  He giggled, then frowned. The magic made him giddy and he shook his head to clear it. It was time to execute the next part of his plan. He stared at his hand, muttered a few words, and grinned when it grew long, pointed claws. His expression almost gleeful, he stepped closer to the girl’s body and proceeded to slash and gouge it methodically. When he had finished, her face and body were raked with bloody wounds. His hand returned to normal and he wiped it on his jeans.

  The smell of blood hung heavy in the air, sweet and metallic. He knew he must be drenched in it. Warren snatched the lavender vial around her throat and tugged it free. He stepped away from the altar and gazed at his handiwork. Blood ran in rivulets down the sides of the edifice. Satisfied that he’d accomplished his purpose, he translocated to the edge of the clearing.

  Lights glimmered through the trees to catch his attention and he paused in shock. He hadn’t realized the circle had been so close to a house.

  The legacy cloaked himself and approached cautiously. He must still be within the wards of the coven to have come so close. He moved onto the deck and stepped silently to a window.

  Inside, a young, attractive woman sat at a large wooden kitchen table. Her dark hair was plaited and hung over her shoulder. A look of concentration narrowed her eyes. Behind her, an old man stood and busied himself at the countertop.

  She brought her face close to a delicate-looking flower in a pot and sniffed. Her eyes narrowed. “Hmm… No fragrance.”

  “Problem, Heidi?” The old man remained at the kitchen counter with his back to her.

  She leaned back and looked at the items around her. “I swept the room, blessed my athame, and lit the candle.” She looked at the herbs. “I’m sure I put all the necessary herbs in the oil before I uttered the spell. I know I did.” Heidi folded her arms and stared at the flower like it was all the blossom’s fault. “And I said the right words.”

  “I know you did. I heard.” The old man turned, carrying two cups. “Here’s your hot chocolate.”

  “Thanks, Grandpa. But what did I do wrong?” It had been clear from the tone of his voice that he knew exactly where she’d gone wrong.

  “Where were your fingers when you spoke the words?” He creaked and groaned into his chair.

  She looked at her hands and frowned as she focused on him.

  “Were they in the pot and touching the dirt the plant grew from?”

  Heidi’s shoulders dropped. “Well, shit.”

  “You mind your language, young lady.”

  “I’m nineteen—” She stopped speaking, rolled her eyes, and turned her attention to the flower. After a sigh of irritation, she plunged three fingers into the dirt and spoke the words again. The blossom opened fully and puffed its perfume into the air. “There, I did it.” She gave him a satisfied grin.

  “Did that little flower give up a season’s worth of fragrance simply to make this room smell nice?”

  The young woman picked a small vial up and slumped. She’d clearly intended to use it to collect the fragrance.

  Her grandpa stood, groaned again, and lifted his cup. “I’ll take this to bed. Goodnight, sweetheart.” He stepped to the back door, locked it, and paused as he glanced toward the window.

  She looked at her grandfather. “Is something wrong?”

  Warren froze and his heart rate accelerated. The old man seemed to look directly into his eyes, even though he was cloaked.

  “Something…” He squinted as if to focus for a moment before he shook his head and turned to walk down the hall.

  The legacy sighed with relief. Of course the old man hadn’t seen him. They were only witches.

  Heidi blew on her beverage and took a sip. She yawned and stood to gather the herbs and oils and the still-empty glass vial. Carefully, she put it all into the apothecary cabinet on the other side of the room. The watcher didn’t like that she’d turned her back to the window. He glanced down and noticed a bottle close to his foot, kicked it, and watched as she spun. He couldn’t believe he’d done that.

  I’m still high on the witch’s magic.

  The sound drew her gaze to the kitchen window. She stepped across warily and looked out into the darkness. Finally, she shrugged and seemed to think nothing of the sound. She returned to the cabinet.

  Warren turned to the circle and muttered a spell to light the torches. He continued to watch her.

  She had returned to the flower and now lifted the pot and sniffed it. As she placed it onto the window sill, the flicker outside caught her eye.

  “Is that flames?” She looked in the direction in which her grandfather had disappeared but seemed to think better of disturbing the old man. With a shrug, she strode to the kitchen door, unlocked it, and stepped onto the deck. She put her hand into her pocket, retrieved a little bag of sand, and scattered it around. “Reveal the hidden.”

  Nothing happened. The legacy was relieved that he’d translocated to the tree line a moment before. He glanced toward the circle. The torches were visible through the small copse that surrounded the altar. Carolyn had told him that it wasn’t unusual for a coven member to leave an offering for the goddess as part of a private request, but people were expected to clean up after themselves. They had a rule about leaving the space as they had found it. He almost chuckled out loud. I sure didn’t do that. My bad.

  He watched as the woman, unable to see him, looked around and finally stepped onto the grass. A warm breeze brought an unpleasant sharp smell to his nose and he wondered if she could smell it too.

  She walked to the tree line and he could see that she grasped her athame tightly. The small blade wouldn’t have been much use as a regular weapon but as a ritual blade, it could hold considerable power and probably did given how confidently she moved. As she drew a little closer, she frowned and narrowed her eyes.

  The legacy could tell from the way she tilted her head that she saw something
on the altar but couldn’t discern what it was.

  Heidi stopped beside the torches.

  From Warren’s place at the edge of the woods, he could see the light reflect on shiny blonde hair. She would have seen it too.

  “Who is that? Carolyn, is that you?”

  She took another step and muttered an incantation. The torches brightened, the flames surged like flamethrowers into the night, and she saw the woman on the altar clearly. She raised her hands to her mouth and screamed when she saw that her friend’s face and body were rent by deep claw marks and her clothes soaked in blood.

  Warren wondered why she hadn’t run away. Was she fascinated? Or rooted to the ground, unable to make her feet move. In the next moment, he heard her grandfather run to her, his breathing labored.

  The old man put his arm around her and turned her face away from the horror. He started to take her back to the house but stopped and looked into the trees where the watcher stood cloaked. He prepared to do battle, but the old man shook his head and guided his granddaughter into the house.

  The legacy knew he should be long gone, but the young woman had interested him. He was curious to see her face after she had seen her friend and coven sister’s mangled corpse. Ignoring the voice of caution, he crept to the window again.