Shadow Guardians: The Promised

In a shadow-cloaked abandoned warehouse, the brothers stood firm, the weight of their purpose on their shoulders. They waited for the portal to open, which Uriah had foreseen.

The sound of trash cans being kicked over had them pivoting, weapons at the ready. Draven had a rifle, Z had throwing stars, and Magnus and Uriah had identical swords. And of course, they all had their daggers.

What came around the corner wasn’t the demons they were expecting.

Across from them appeared a group of four nosferi, each with guns in their hands and some with swords.

“What the...?” Magnus whispered, straightening some but still grasping his weapons tightly.

“Is this some kind of joke?” D hissed.

Zachiel narrowed his eyes as the nosferi inched towards them, weapons at the ready. “Wait, these were recruits.”

“The ones you sent away,” Uriah realized.

And then Magnus inhaled the air. It was thick with the smell of brimstone. “They’ve been corrupted.” He said, adjusting his stance.

With a deafening silence hanging in the air, the tension between the groups reached its zenith.

The nosferi ran towards them.

Magnus took the first step, lunging forward with the agility of a predator. His sword aimed for the heart. With lightning reflexes, the nosferi dipped to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade.

Simultaneously, another raised his weapon, aiming a barrage of shots at Uriah and Draven.

Zachiel reacted instinctively, throwing stars arcing gracefully through the night air. They lodged into the nosferi’s chest.

Uriah exploited the brief opening; his body became a dance of danger as he launched himself toward another enemy. His daggers flashed with each strike, a deadly symphony of metal against flesh.

Then the portal opened, and demons poured from it.

Some jumped agilely onto a nearby fire escape and leapt down in a body-slam fashion, aiming for Draven.

Draven caught the creature by its tail, spun it around using his whole body, then flung it into Magnus’ waiting blade. He reached for his rifle and made quick work of the hordes, but then one jumped on his back, and he had to evade choppers.

Zachiel deflected rapidly incoming bullets but still managed to catch a few in his backside. With unyielding determination and moving at a blurring speed through the pain of healing, he closed the distance to the nosferi.

He yanked the gun from his grip, grabbed him by the neck, and twisted, sending him sprawling to the tarmac.

They were still no match for the brothers.

For what seemed like an eternity, they battled with primal ferocity. Most blows landed with precision, each block matched by a swift counterattack.

The clash of metal against flesh and firing bullets reverberated through the darkness, a cacophony that echoed with equal parts fury and willpower.

When the last demon had been slain, along with the last nosferi, Z had bullet holes in his thighs and back, and Magnus had gotten a knock on the head and had a hunk of flesh taken out of his forearm.

Draven had been smashed into the tarmac and was filthy and full of gashes, but alive. And Uriah had a gunshot wound that very nearly missed his lungs and heart.

But they were all healing and out of breath. And then there was a gurgling sound.

Uriah turned and saw a nosferi sitting up against the wall of the old warehouse, still alive but not for much longer. He came closer, lifting his dagger to finish the traitor off while he choked on his own blood.

But then the nosferi spoke.

“You’ll never see her again,” he said, spitting blood.

Uriah froze, his weapon at the ready, and his heart hitched.

“What?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Who are you talking about?”

“You’re asking, but you already know the answer,” the nosferi said, sneering. “You can feel it, can’t you?”

Uriah’s mind began racing, and he felt like he’d been gut-punched.

Before they went out hunting for the night, he sent Marionette a few texts. When she didn’t reply, he called. Twice.

And when she didn’t answer, he was about to lose it when his brothers told him to just calm the heck down and give her space.

“Who are you talking about?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The nosferi snickered. “There are many of us. You thought we weren’t good enough. Well, you just watch what’s gonna happen to your little Marionette.”

Uriah’s fury was like wildfire. It burned through him with a white-hot intensity, consuming every thought and emotion, every speck of rationality.

He grabbed the nosferi by his clothes.

“WHERE IS SHE!” He yelled, pausing for a split second between each word as if to make sure that the piece of trash before him heard and understood them.

By now, his brothers had caught on to what had happened, and they cautiously approached him.

There was nothing that stripped a vampire of his rationality like something happening to his mate.

Uriah could be unpredictable; he could attack them if they attempted to stop him or tried to talk him down.

The nosferi sneered. “Rip says hi.”

Something in Uriah snapped.

He grabbed the nosferi’s arm, twisted it, and ripped it clear off his body. He screamed, but Uriah couldn’t hear it.

He couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. All he was was an uncontrollable storm of black rage.

Uriah jammed a dagger into the nosferi’s thigh, then dragged it down through sinew and muscle, all the while screaming where is she, over and over.

He was an animal with no speck of humanity in him at that moment.

More limbs were torn, then he disemboweled him and butchered him like an animal.

By the end of it, Uriah was covered in blood, his chest was heavy at work, and every muscle in his body was drawn taut.

Magnus stepped closer, his hands held in the air. “Uriah, you have to calm down.”

Before he could say another word, the blade of a dagger was at his throat, and he stared into two eyes that should’ve been golden but were glazed over black with wrath.

“Careful, kid.” Magnus ground out, his eyes already turning to his beast, the irises glowing a dangerous red.

Typical, he’d tried and succeeded in suppressing his transformation during the fight. And now he had to clamp down. His beast was pissed for being denied, and Magnus would hate for Uriah to be the last straw.

At that point, Uriah didn’t even care. He was so charged that he felt he could rip Magnus’ beast apart, which was utterly foolish.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from digging the blade deeper into his brother’s flesh. It was the only thing keeping his hand steady.

“Hold on,” Zachiel, ever the mediator, came between them. He bravely placed a hand on Uriah’s shoulder.

Uriah seemed to almost snap out of it and glanced at Z, giving Draven the gap he needed to grab the knife from his hand.

Uriah swung towards him and hissed, baring his fangs. And while he faced Draven, Zachiel confiscated his remaining weapons from his belt. He swiveled and caught Zachiel by the arm, and slammed him to the ground. He lifted his fist, but Draven caught his arm.

Uriah threw Draven clear across the tarmac.

How dare they try and stop him?

“If you stand in my way, I’ll kill you all, I swear,” he seethed.

“We’re not going to stop you, Uriah. We want to find her as bad as you do.” Zachiel said, coming back onto his feet.

“Bullshit,” he spat. Rage was churning uncontrollably, and they were just going to slow him down.

He turned in the other direction, but before he could run off, Magnus seized him with his arms behind his back. Uriah kicked and wrestled.

“Let me go! I’ll fucking kill you all!”

He had to find her. He was wasting time. His rage bent the air around him in waves of heat.

Zachiel appeared before him and held him still in a choke hold, his hand gripping Uriah’s neck.

Well, Uriah thought it was a choke hold, but then he started rubbing his thumb against his jugular vein.

“Fuck...” Uriah breathed as he calmed down against his will.

“Just stop and think for a minute,” Zachiel said, keeping his tone very even. “Where will you look for her? Think you can rely on your bloodties to find her when you’re so livid? That’s not gonna happen, brother.”

The hypnotic rubbing caused Uriah’s thoughts to slow, and his muscles went lax. Magnus almost breathed relief behind him.

“We have to trace Rip’s movements,” Draven added, carefully stepping closer. “If we can find him, we’ll find her.”

Rage gave way to despair, and Uriah had to fight against losing his grip on his emotions. He couldn’t afford to fall apart now. Only focus would lead him to her.

“Sorry,” he panted.

Seeing he had given up, Magnus released him, and he simply sagged to the ground on his knees, his hands covering his face.

“We’ll find her,” Magnus declared, whipping out his phone. “I’m calling the females.”

Uriah wanted - needed - to believe that.