Shadow Guardians: The Key

“Please...” Mary begged, hands held up in front of her to defend, like there was even a chance of that, while she backed away.

The man with the short, choppy black hair stalked closer. And so did his two friends behind him. Mary knew her life would end tonight. There was no way she could fight the three of them, and there was just something off about them. Their eyes were black and cruel, their trio of sneers split their faces in near-unnatural ways.

She couldn’t fathom why they would want her. She lived in the underground tunnels of the city. She had nothing, save for the clothes on her back and a black bag on which she slept. She was no one of interest.

Maybe that was why. They would rape and kill her, and no one would be the wiser. But however poor she was, she still wanted to live. She was only forty-two. There were plenty of years left for her to try and better her life. She’d saved up enough coins to buy her way to a shelter a while away from the tunnel she lived in. Just this morning she’d gone there, and they’d agreed to let her stay there, even agreed that they would send a vehicle to pick her up the following day. She was only here to collect the few possessions she had before she would take the first step to a better future.

And now, on her final night in the slummy tunnel, she was going to get killed.

The three men stalked closer, and the smell of them permeated her nostrils. They reeked of smoke, like they’d made handrolled joints containing charcoal or something. It was worse still than when the other mole people, as they were called, burned trash in the garbage cans for warmth, and the smoke thickened the air in the tunnels. They didn’t say a word, which terrified her even more. She had no idea what their intentions with her were.

A sound echoed through the acoustic tunnels that chilled her blood. It was like something out of a horror movie: the sound of a blade dragging across the floor, or maybe the wall, and heavy, slow approaching boots.

There was a twang sound, and at the next second, the head of an arrow pierced through the skull of one of the men in front of Mary from behind.

A scream frozen in her throat, she recoiled back as the man howled like some animal before convulsing and going up in flames before her very eyes. Burning ashes rained down on the ground as the flames dissipated.

In a sudden move, one of the other ones grabbed hold of her and swung her around into a choke hold, his free hand to her throat. The fingers were distorted into long, terrifying claws, and the forefinger he held to her throat dug into her flesh. The evil radiating out of him made Mary feel sick. Her mind tried telling her that the claws she was feeling were probably part of some cheap Halloween costume, but their sharpness just didn’t jive with that theory. One wrong move, and she would have blood spewing out of her like a fountain. The other man pulled out a gun and started firing seemingly random shots into the darkness of the tunnel.

Although Mary was terrified for her life, she didn’t see what the man was shooting at. There was no light on that side of the tunnel, only shadows.

Silence befell them. The two men didn’t move a muscle. They went still as statues, unnaturally so.

Then there was a long creaking noise, like a mechanism being drawn back. The man with the gun swiveled his head around, trying to pinpoint the location of the sound.

There was the sound of the blade being dragged against the walls again. Mary thought for a moment that the stories of old man Higgens were true, and there were ghosts roaming the tunnels. Except, the arrow that sent the thugs’ leader up in flames was very real, as she recalled.

“Where are you!” The man with the gun yelled out of nowhere. Mary startled and was nearly the cause of her own death with that claw at her throat.

A dagger flew through the air, heads over tails, and struck the man with the gun right in the chest. He flew backwards at the impact, and before he hit the ground, he went up in light. Ash fell to the floor.

Mary peeled her eyes away from the ash to see a beautiful woman standing in front of her. Long, wavy black hair, and shark-grey eyes. She wore a dark purple crop top that revealed her belly, leather pants, leather jacket. Knee-high leather boots that were made for crushing testicles. And she was cocky as hell. She smiled at the man behind Mary, tilting her head slightly as if inviting him to make a move.

Mary’s eyes widened. She had fangs.

Her eyes lit up in an iridescent silver, and the man behind Mary uttered a terrifying hissing sound.

“I’ll kill the human.” He threatened.

“Oh please,” the woman said, rolling her eyes. “You were planning on killing her anyway, you soulless parasitic bastard.”

“My master is coming for your humans, Guardian. Our army is growing every second. He is very disappointed in you. He had great plans for you...”

The woman laughed. “Woe is me. Poor demon daddy didn’t get what he wanted?” She pouted. “Cry me a fucking river.”

He dug the claw deeper into Mary’s flesh. “You are filthy, child. Unable to stand in the light and behold the greatness of our Lord,”

“Praise the gods,” came a deep voice from behind. An arrow pierced the khad’s skull.

His grip loosened on Mary, and the woman pulled her away from him just in time before he too shot up in flames and dissipated into ash.

Mary stared at the beautiful woman in horror. She heard boots behind her, her head snapped around, and she saw a large man approaching with electric blue eyes. He looked even more ominous. He crouched by the ashes of the three men, sifted through them with his fingers.

She turned back to the woman, who had since released her. She wanted to run, but she was frozen over with fear. The fangs. The fangs! “Vam- vam-...!” She couldn’t say the word. Saying it made it real.

The woman smiled at her. “Hi! I’m Kathy.” Mary started rattling and mumbling incomprehensible stuff. Katherine waved a hand before her face, and she went still and confused. She looked at her like she’d never seen her before.

“H-hello,” Mary said. “Pardon me, but do you know what I was doing here?”

“You were gathering your things to go to the shelter tomorrow,” Katherine said, after managing, with effort, to take a snoop through her head. Which left her inexperienced brain feeling like scrambled eggs. “Good choice of shelter, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Mary said. “Well, I’ll be going now.” Katherine smiled with her mouth closed this time and stood aside for her to pass.

She ambled on but then halted and turned. “Hey, do you guys smell something burning?”

“Yeah, dead rats,” Magnus said.

Mary looked astonished. “Of course, I knew I recognized it.”

“Some people are into some sick shit,” Katherine said, finding it amusing talking to a human who was a little looney right now.

“Hey, are you two a couple?” Mary asked, thinking they looked lovely together. And if they weren’t a couple, they should be.

Magnus came over, and draped his arm around Katherine.

“He’s my...” Mate, “...husband.” Katherine was still caught off guard sometimes by how her new vampire nature changed her thought patterns. All the old traditions of Magnus’ memory had now fixed themselves in her own psyche.

Mary nodded, very satisfied that they were together. Then she saw the fancy crossbow that Magnus was holding. “Do you hunt?”

“Naw, this old thing belongs in a museum.” He said. “We just came from a nerd convention.”

Katherine sniggered and gave him a pleading look. They weren’t planning on getting chatty with the human, but she was still learning even after four months. And he knew the fact that she’d managed to wipe her memories was enough of a strain for now. It was already the sixth time tonight that she’d done that. For some reason, they had lots of witnesses tonight. Rotten luck.

He came up to Mary and planted a little seed in her brain that she was tired and wanted to go to bed.

“You know, I think I’ll see you guys later. Maybe. I’m so tired. Must be getting old. Goodnight,”

“Night Mary.” Both of them said at the same time.

She waved at them as she sauntered off.

Katherine breathed out. “I hate when they take hostages.” She was covered in ash and really craved a bath. “Did you find anything in the ash?”

Magnus shook his head and handed her her dagger back. She shared his weapons, but she had her own daggers that Zachiel had specially made for her. Their blades were long and narrow and serrated at the hilt. They were made of bloodstone, a dark green crystal. The handle was comfortable and fitted into her hand like a piece in a puzzle. The quillion was curved up towards the blade, and the pommels had purple crystals that glowed when they struck down an enemy.

“No black glass. They didn’t belong to Father Darkness. Nice throw, by the way,” he said, bending and kissing her on the mouth, lingering. Her heart did a star jump, and her hands came around his waist, around unyielding muscle, his warmth comforted in the cold clamminess of the tunnels.

“I need a bath, and you do too.” She murmured when he pulled away. “You’re starting to smell like them.”

Magnus scoffed, and they started heading out of the tunnel hand-in-hand. “Thanks for the insult...”

Dawn was approaching, but they still had enough time to drive back to Grandfall Manor. Zachiel and Draven were checking out the club scene, not to dance but because some guy went apeshit in there and started shooting everyone. It would’ve been a police case if the lunatic didn’t have glowing red eyes and a forked tongue, which one of the club’s strippers thought was a sexual fantasy come true. Katherine shuddered.

Magnus burst out into laughter as they got into the corvette, and she knew he’d read her mind. She didn’t get angry. Since her change, he wasn’t able to do it willingly anymore. It just sort of happened randomly. Thank the gods. Because she’d been having crazy ass dreams of locks and prisons and the Abyss ever since her transition. She didn’t always remember much of them during her waking hours. But she felt like she was accumulating knowledge. They’ve been trying to figure out what it meant and how to use it to their advantage.

“Don’t laugh! Can you imagine how that thin, forked tongue crawled up that woman’s insides?” Shivers of disgust went down her spine as she imagined a cold, wriggling thing crawling up her own body all the way into her gut.

“You’re right,” Magnus said as he switched on the car. “I can do so much better than he can...”

That, she had no doubt of. Thinking of Magnus down on his knees between her legs and herself propped up against a wall reminded her of something, apart from the fact that she went hot between the thighs. She brought a hand up to rub at her throat. Magnus glanced at her as he signaled and turned left. “I feel just the same,” he said.

She smiled as she stared out of the passenger window and imagined the rich taste of his blood. The craving grew.

As she watched the lights of businesses pass by, her mind drifted back to her wedding day four months ago. She and Magnus were wed in the warrior’s small chapel outside the house. It was such a beautiful little building, with only six pews. Nothing at all like the foreboding gothic chapels the demons were overtaking.

There were moonstone crystal panels against the walls, which were angled in just the right way to magnify the moon’s glow as it illuminated the chapel. She wore a deep red dress with black embroidery in a princess style. It was like some piece of magnificent art that had come right out of the 18th century. But she felt splendid in it. Magnus wore a traditional black tux, as did his brothers who attended, and Ophelia was dressed in a long purple and silver gown.

And they were wed by the goddess Astera, who’d blessed their mating when she nearly died four months ago.

She had spoken words in the old language. Katherine didn’t know what she was saying, but she subconsciously understood that she was promising everything that she was to Magnus. And he did the same. After, they intertwined their wrists and took blood from one another. He kissed her.

Then he went on his knees before the goddess, who placed a hand on his heart. His brothers stood by his side, each pressing a hand to his shoulders as if to keep him down. The angels sang, even though they weren’t present, an echoing humming that went through the chapel.

A light radiated from the goddess’ hand, and Katherine saw Magnus’ dig the knuckles of his fisted hand into the floor. She was nervous at that point, seeing that he was in some sort of pain. But she couldn’t move, speak, or interrupt the ritual in any way, perhaps because the goddess held her in place, knowing her inexperience.

When they went back to the house after it was over, he took her hand, placed it on his chest over his heart, and gave her a vision of what the goddess had done to him.

Her name, Katherine, was burned, scarred, into the very beating flesh of his heart.

And so they were wed. It happened as soon as she was back on her feet after her transition.

And she had been training with him in private every day since then, with the weapons as well as the mental abilities. Her body had changed. She was lean and strong, looked like the warrior she was training to be.

They were still no closer to discovering who Father Darkness was. And in the meantime, the fight continued. Her conviction grew every time she went out with the brothers. She didn’t go with them every night, just often enough to keep her field experience sharp. She felt bad for leaving Ophelia alone. And besides, they were working through the archaic chronicles and other books to try and figure out who was behind the religious madness.

She thought of a baby boy they had found in his room the other night who was literally torn apart by his own mother, who was possessed. Katherine swallowed hard, and the passing lights of the city blurred. A baby of four months, butchered with a kitchen knife, the light blue covers of his cot turned red with blood. She never knew infants had that much blood in their little bodies.

She felt a big, warm hand wrap around hers.

“It’s him again, isn’t it?” Magnus asked.

Katherine took a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Magnus’ grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. He wished she hadn’t seen that. It haunted her, and he longed to take that particular experience away from her, to keep her from heartbreak. But she was in this war now, for better or worse, because the goddess Astera had commanded it so. And she fit right in as a warrior. The experience only encouraged her to fight and train harder, to be better. He admired that about her.

They had no idea what she was capable of. She’d been spending far more time in the Abyss in her dreams than he was comfortable with. He and his brothers were still trying to find information about how all the combinations of the locks were supposed to help them in the war.

As far as he knew, the gates in the Abyss could not be opened from the mortal realm. Yet, nearly every night, she dreamed of going in there and unlocking doors to things she had no idea of. With the angels, no less. At least they would protect her, that much he knew. But she grew tired, and she needed to feed more often than she normally would’ve if she’d been sleeping well. Not that he minded.

“I can’t wait to be in your arms in the bathtub,” she said wearily.

She enjoyed killing demons, never thought she’d enjoy killing anything, but there it was. But it was tiring for her soul to see so many suffering people. She would still rather be fighting than staying out of the war, however. But right now, she craved the comfort of her husband’s arms around her. And dinner. Maybe afterwards she could get back to reading through the book she’d acquired on demonology, not that that had brought up anything useful yet.

“Whatever you need, meeran.”

She smiled at the word. Meeran, my beloved.