Sky Ghosts: All for One (Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure) (Sky Ghosts Series Book 1) Read online

  Sky Ghosts: All for One

  by Alexandra Engellmann

  Sky Ghosts: All for One

  (Book 1 of the Sky Ghosts series)

  Copyright © 2014 by Alexandra Engellmann

  All rights reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and events are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means – including, but not limited to, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise – without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published by Alexandra Engellmann

  [email protected]

  http://www.engellmann.com/

  Cover artwork by the author

  Second Edition

  A note from the author

  This is the first book of the Sky Ghosts series, which will include a trilogy and at least three side stories. Each book of the trilogy will be followed by a side story about one of the characters. While the side stories won’t be a part of the trilogy, they will contain more clues to the main storyline and will give the reader more insight into the characters’ development.

  Sign up for the ARC to read the next book for free, before the official release. It will take only two minutes of your time.

  In return, you will receive a free copy of the next book in exchange for a brief review. You can find the instructions for signing up on the last page.

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the author

  To my mom, who will kill me real fast

  when she finds out what I’ve really been doing all these years

  instead of getting married and having children

  who will always be my kind of superhero.

  Prologue

  It was midnight in New York. The poorly lit street outside the bar was almost empty. The only exceptions were a drunken tramp and a surprisingly sober visitor of the bar, a young man dressed in all black. He stood at the entrance with his back against the door and watched the tramp: leaned up against the wall, a crumpled and dirty cardboard box under him, he clutched at it with shaking hands, obviously chased by drunken hallucinations.

  The young man stepped forward, reaching into his pocket and taking out a roll of twenties. He bent and gave the money to the tramp, who looked up with surprised foggy eyes. After a moment he took the roll, nodding with gratitude.

  “Buy some food, buddy. You hear me? Not alcohol – food,” the young man said to him.

  “Okay… Thank you, kind mister, thank you!” the man mumbled and stuffed the money under his coat. He got up awkwardly and hurried away, as if someone were chasing him and his prize. As soon as he got behind the corner, he stopped, breathing hard and taking out the roll with trembling, unruly fingers. He separated the notes, counting: one, two, three… One hundred and twenty?? He stared at the money in bewilderment, forgetting how to breathe.

  Dave watched the tramp disappear behind the corner and then took out his cell phone, intending to call his driver. This night officially sucks, but at least someone is happy now, he thought gloomily. He naively believed that the drunkard wouldn’t spend his money on some cheap whiskey; partly he realized it, but honestly, didn’t care. It had always been his subconscious choice to believe in the best in people, so he trusted the happy face of the tramp when he said he wouldn’t buy booze. Dave didn’t want to think of him probably getting drunk and robbed by his own pals somewhere in the next bar. He always wanted to believe that he could bring people good, that the money his father was giving to charity were used to cure ill children, not to buy another penthouse for some greedy, fat official. Dave’s glass was always half-full of crystal-clear, unspoiled, sparkling optimism, and he didn’t mind.

  He raised the phone to his ear and gazed ahead, to the road.

  “Hello?” a creaking voice sounded in his ear, but Dave’s attention was already captured by something else.

  Something flickered a hundred yards away from him, falling swiftly along a high-rise building at the crossroads. However, he had only seen the last moment of the fall, when the object passed the illumination of the nearest streetlight. Dave hesitated for a few seconds, but curiosity overpowered his weariness. He hung up – his driver’s voice dying on the other end – and with three long strides, he crossed the road and headed to the building.

  The night was turning brisk; hands in pockets, he walked against the rising wind, feeling the rain close and inevitable. The wall to his left ended suddenly. It was too dark in this part of the street, with the only streetlight far ahead, illuminating the building’s entrance. Dave stopped short, looking around in confusion. Did he imagine the falling object? Was it some kind of a play of light? Because there was nothing at the building’s foot, only thick shadows surrounded the area, seeming alive, moving—

  He stepped back swiftly because something did move in the darkness. Hidden behind the corner now, with his head tilted to the side so he could peek around it, he watched someone steal along the wall, black on black, almost invisible. But there was something in his hands, something long, more than half of his height, and it was giving him away, gleaming silver in the moonlight every now and then.

  Only the sound of his racing pulse filled Dave’s ears now. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out the figure by the wall more clearly, and its grace was surprisingly light for a man. Oh, what the hell, just go home already! Living in New York, he quickly got that “none of my business” was most people’s motto here. Life-saving motto, even. But still, there was something in all this that bothered him, made a vague, unsure thought stir at the edge of his mind. So, as his feet tried to drag him away, his anxious brown eyes watched the scene before him with almost self-destructive greediness.

  Coming off the building’s yard, there was a narrow alley, and that was where the prowling figure stopped, merging with the dark. Dave waited, peering into the night until his eyes stung, and not in vain. Just a couple of minutes later the wind brought the sound of male voices, faint at first, but getting louder with every second. One more minute, and he was able to make out the words – they were arguing, their hushed rumbling voices echoing off the walls.

  “If you didn’t stumble there like a blind man, we would’ve got her this time,” boomed one of them irritably.

  “Oh, I’m sorry I stumbled where I shouldn’t have while trying to save your butt from her katana!” the second one replied.

  “Com
e on, you’re exaggerating, she’d never get- ”

  His voice broke off as they came out into the opening and stopped short with the enigmatic person in black right in front of them. Dave didn’t even see any movement when he or she had left the cover and blocked their way, but now he could definitely see that the gleaming object was a sword, its hilt long and black. And the point of it was right at the throat of one of the men. Dave peered harder and realized that it was a boy or a girl – his size was too small in comparison with the sizes of his opponents. They, too, were dressed in black, their figures tall and broad, their hair cropped short. However, in the next moment Dave didn’t have to guess about their stalker anymore.

  “Really?” sounded a definitely female voice and then a carefree chuckle. “If I wouldn’t get you, then what are you doing here, sweating like a pig at the point of this very katana?” she continued in a velvety voice, drawling every word softly, with pleasure.

  While the first of them just stared stupidly, the second seemed to have found the right words.

  “Well, calm down. We weren’t following you. We’re just heading to a bar now,” he babbled in one breath. “We’re not gonna fight you, so let each of us go his own way.”

  His companion nodded fervently, supporting the other man’s speech, but then froze with a painful grimace. Apparently, the sword didn’t let him move so freely.

  “Did I argue with that?” the girl replied in the same calm, low voice. “Of course, each of us will go his own way,” her intonation changed to thoughtful now, “Though I’m afraid we might have different ideas about where your way leads…”

  Dave only saw a blaze of the sword, and then something heavy hit the ground. He needed much more time to realize that it was the first man’s head. His eyes went round as he watched the sword swing in circle again and hit the blade of the second man with a clatter. In a couple of seconds his head landed next to the first one along with his hand. His short, wide sword was useless against the katana, and his size advantage meant nothing against the speed with which the girl had attacked him.

  It all happened in a few seconds, and at first Dave just didn’t take it for real. But then the reality sank in, and a startled gasp escaped his mouth, making the girl whirl to him with her eyes narrowed suspiciously. He jerked back behind the corner, but she had noticed him already.

  “Oh, Mister Curiosity’s here,” he heard her words, muffled by stone and distance. “I’m not gonna hurt you!” she called out in a drawling voice.

  Dave stopped. Move, you idiot! But his sense was helpless as slowly, step by step, he got back to the corner and came out from behind it to look at her again. She was already holding a phone to her ear, talking quietly into it.

  “…clean-up to the fourteenth sector. No, I’m taking off. Is Marco anywhere around?… Good, tell him to meet me at Eighth and Greenwich.”

  She put the phone inside her chest pocket and turned to him.

  “So, you saw all of it?” she asked Dave.

  They stood twenty steps away from each other, and her words were pretty audible in the still of the night. She bent to wipe the sword at her victim’s clothes.

  “Yes,” Dave answered, swallowing against the lump in his throat. The sense of the pulse beating at his temples became overwhelming. As if it were screaming to him: Danger, danger! But you’re too stubborn and stupid to go home, right.

  “And you’re still here?” She mused for a moment, looking at her sword. “You’re brave,” she praised him sarcastically and looked up again. She was wearing a black face mask that covered the lower part of her face. But judging by her smiling eyes, the situation amused her. “Then you have the right to ask your questions.”

  Dave looked at her perplexedly, so she added,

  “You have questions, don’t you? Or you wouldn’t watch all this… People’s curiosity, my eternal companion…” There was a theatrical solemnity in her voice now, and Dave didn’t know if it was a good sign, her being in a cheery mood, or a bad one – her being obviously crazy.

  He responded in an alien voice.

  “Will you really answer?”

  “Go ahead!” She waved her free hand. “The more witnesses like you know, the less they babble about it afterward. ’Cause nobody’s gonna believe them. But only if you come closer. I’m not gonna yell across the street.”

  Was it a trap? A reason to make him come closer so she could kill him, too? Desperately, he thought it over, the silence between them lingering. No, silly, she doesn’t need to trick you. She could kill you right now; one heartbeat – and you’re gone, a voice sounded in the back of his mind, light and mocking.

  He made a few steps along the wall carefully.

  “Good boy,” she praised him again. “Shoot.”

  He speculated for a moment.

  “Why did you kill them?”

  “They tried to kill me a few times now. Decided it was fun to chase me around.” She turned the sword in her hand, looking at it wistfully again.

  “How many of your kind are out there?” he asked then.

  “Not enough,” she answered, her voice ironic.

  Dave thought for a few seconds before asking the next question.

  “Who are you?”

  Before he could finish talking, his back slammed into a wall, and the katana’s blade was at his throat. He froze, not breathing, and even his heart seemed to stop for a moment.

  “And this is the wrong question,” she whispered from a few inches away, her black eyes boring into him, but he knew her lips were grinning under the face mask.

  He only had enough time to get scared when she put the sword behind her back, leaped off the ground, and disappeared above his head – all in one moment. He stepped away from the wall, stunned, and looked up, but she was already gone.

  And that was when Dave realized what didn’t let go of him from the very beginning: it wasn’t a thing falling from the roof…

  It was the girl.

  Chapter 1

  Jane caught up with her sister outdoors: she was sitting on a bench, chatting idly with another fighter, Patrick. When the glass doors opened before Jane, the sun was right on the horizon, and night had begun to fall over the city.

  “I told you to wait for me,” Jane said crossly and a little wearily, looking at her sister from a few steps away.

  “I wanted to get outside sooner,” Pain replied, her voice bored and drawling.

  Jane approached the two fighters, coming to stand in front of her sister.

  “Yeah, by the way, why are we patrolling tonight? Was it your idea? And did you have a fight with Peter again?” she asked in a calmer voice, deciding not to push the waiting-for-each-other topic. She had learned long ago how to play down all squabbles with her sister because it was the only way to stay in a good relationship, and that was already a hard task.

  Seeing the hardened expression on the face of his companion, Patrick got up clumsily and mumbled, “Hmm… I think I’ll go. My men must be here already,” he headed for the doors, “good luck on your watch!”

  “Thanks,” Jane responded, smiling, “You too.”

  “Thanks.”

  He turned and walked away. In the scarlet sunset glow, his almost colorless hair looked translucent pink. Patrick was nineteen, but he had been training since childhood, so he was beginning to get his share of respect from the older fighters already. He was in charge of his first group, a small one, but still. Jane believed he would become one of the best with time, but he was too shy to be a leader.

  He stopped in a few steps from the entrance when the glass doors slid apart and three boys came out.

  “Here you are! We’ve been looking for you everywhere…”

  God, they’re even younger than me, Jane thought. They should be trained again and again before letting them go on patrols.

  Pain followed her gaze with her own and noted, as if reading her thoughts,

  “You do realize that you’re no different from them, don’t you?”r />
  “No, I am different. I’ve been training since I’d learned how to walk; they just got here a couple of months ago,” Jane objected.

  “Whatever,” her sister shrugged it off. “Another shift was Peter’s idea. He said that I’d go – quote – ‘cruising for a bruising’ anyway, so I could make myself useful as well,” Pain explained, nodding with irony.

  She looked very much like her little sister. Her dark-brown eyes were framed with long black eyelashes, her skin was pale, and her hair blue-black, lying long and straight over her shoulders. She, too, was of middle height and very slim, clad in matte-black gear and light boots. They both could be considered attractive, even beautiful, but in different ways. If Jane’s features were more round and soft, her sister’s face was more sharply planed, her cheekbones more prominent, her lips less full. Even her eyes were always narrowed to watchful, suspicious slits. They were outlined with coal-black eyeliner, while Jane didn’t use a lot of makeup at all.

  “I wonder what I have to do with that,” Jane grumbled.

  “Well, he wouldn’t send Marco with me. You know how he gets distracted and can tear apart half of the city in the process.” Pain shrugged apologetically.

  Jane grunted in reply and looked around the darkening yard, stretching her arms wide. Two short swords weighed down her belt on both sides, as always. She relished in the last sunbeams of the day: they painted the inside of the semicircular building reddish-pink and turned the green trees around them solemn and eerie. There were only a few more fighters aside from them, standing in pairs or small groups, smoking and chatting in low voices. They were all wearing the same black gear, and some of them had black face masks, lowered because there was no need to hide their faces yet. They didn’t have to worry about civilians seeing them here. The building was located remotely from the living area of Brooklyn, and even if people would pass it by, they wouldn’t be interested in the shabby yard that was enclosed in a half-circle of small trees. The building itself was long and six stories tall. It could pass for an old factory, painted dingy-red and looking abandoned, but there was a certain purpose to it – keep strangers away.