Nightfall (Pact Arcanum Integrated Serial Edition) by Arshad Ahsanuddin
Authors: Arshad Ahsanuddin
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might be safe for another generation. Don’t screw it up by exposing him.”
“Fine. Nick can stay. You just hold up your end.”
“I’ll keep him out of trouble.”
Edgar stepped back to the door and paused before turning back to Antonio. “One last thing. If anything happens to him on your watch, there’s nothing on earth that will stop me from killing you. Remember that.” Then he opened the door and walked away.
March 2020; Denver, Colorado
Liang assessed the seventy-three Nightwalkers before him. “And these are all the soldiers you have left?” he asked the local strike leader.
The strike leader, Native American by birth, from a nation that had long since perished, nodded. “The four local Sentinel teams have been coordinating attacks against us. They have been particularly effective recently, suggesting a deliberate overall strategy.”
Liang smiled grimly. “As it has been throughout our territories. There can be only one explanation: the Winds have reemerged to lead them.”
The strike leader swallowed nervously. “But why concentrate their attacks here? Surely they cannot know of the Master’s Sanctum.”
“It is possible. These new leaders must have been studying us for some time,” Liang replied. “Over the past two months, we have suffered tremendous losses at all of our sanctuaries, greater than I have seen at any time since the war with House Curallorn.” He sighed. “What remained of our strength in Asia was so depleted by targeted attacks that the other houses have already begun annexing our territory. The Master anticipates that our people in China will be completely overrun by superior forces within weeks.”
The strike leader stared at him in shock. “Master Liang, are you saying the enemy has singled us out for extermination?”
“It may be. Or perhaps we are only the first step in a wider campaign against us all. In any case, this insult must be answered.” He grinned, and his fangs gleamed. “Tell me everything you know about the local Sentinel teams that have been plaguing you.”
April 2020; Atlanta, Georgia
Ana’s singing held the audience spellbound, the notes of the descant winging their way across the stage as Takeshi picked out a sparse melody on his guitar. Her voice dropped, and Takeshi slammed out the final chorus, with Rory joining in with a dramatic rumble on the drums. Then they all lined up at the edge of the stage to take their bows. Squinting from the bright lights, Rory leaned over to hold his drumsticks out to a girl who had his face plastered across her T-shirt. Reaching forward, she grabbed the sticks from his hands, clutching them to her chest and staring at him as if he were a risen saint. Rory grinned at her before the three of them headed backstage, still waving at the crowd until they disappeared from view.
As soon as he turned the lock on the performers’ dressing room, Rory rushed to the bathroom and threw up noisily. Ana and Take casually waited for him to rejoin them. Rory had excellent stage presence but the worst case of performance anxiety they’d ever seen. He mostly used his Gift to control it during their shows, but it always hit him hard as soon as he relaxed. Take tried to prevent him from eating much beyond nutritional shakes before a show, knowing most of it was just going to come right back up again afterward.
“Are you okay?” he thought along the link.
“Peachy,” came Rory’s sardonic reply as he washed his mouth out and brushed his teeth.
Ana shook her head. “It amazes me that you’ve been performing since high school and you still haven’t got over this. Maybe you should see a shrink.”
Weak laughter floated from the bathroom before Rory returned and sat down. “And tell him what? That I kill vampires to steady my nerves? That would really go over well.”
A knock sounded at the door. As Take went to answer it, Ana instinctively readied a defensive spell.
“Don’t worry about it, Ana.” Rory
“Fine. Nick can stay. You just hold up your end.”
“I’ll keep him out of trouble.”
Edgar stepped back to the door and paused before turning back to Antonio. “One last thing. If anything happens to him on your watch, there’s nothing on earth that will stop me from killing you. Remember that.” Then he opened the door and walked away.
March 2020; Denver, Colorado
Liang assessed the seventy-three Nightwalkers before him. “And these are all the soldiers you have left?” he asked the local strike leader.
The strike leader, Native American by birth, from a nation that had long since perished, nodded. “The four local Sentinel teams have been coordinating attacks against us. They have been particularly effective recently, suggesting a deliberate overall strategy.”
Liang smiled grimly. “As it has been throughout our territories. There can be only one explanation: the Winds have reemerged to lead them.”
The strike leader swallowed nervously. “But why concentrate their attacks here? Surely they cannot know of the Master’s Sanctum.”
“It is possible. These new leaders must have been studying us for some time,” Liang replied. “Over the past two months, we have suffered tremendous losses at all of our sanctuaries, greater than I have seen at any time since the war with House Curallorn.” He sighed. “What remained of our strength in Asia was so depleted by targeted attacks that the other houses have already begun annexing our territory. The Master anticipates that our people in China will be completely overrun by superior forces within weeks.”
The strike leader stared at him in shock. “Master Liang, are you saying the enemy has singled us out for extermination?”
“It may be. Or perhaps we are only the first step in a wider campaign against us all. In any case, this insult must be answered.” He grinned, and his fangs gleamed. “Tell me everything you know about the local Sentinel teams that have been plaguing you.”
April 2020; Atlanta, Georgia
Ana’s singing held the audience spellbound, the notes of the descant winging their way across the stage as Takeshi picked out a sparse melody on his guitar. Her voice dropped, and Takeshi slammed out the final chorus, with Rory joining in with a dramatic rumble on the drums. Then they all lined up at the edge of the stage to take their bows. Squinting from the bright lights, Rory leaned over to hold his drumsticks out to a girl who had his face plastered across her T-shirt. Reaching forward, she grabbed the sticks from his hands, clutching them to her chest and staring at him as if he were a risen saint. Rory grinned at her before the three of them headed backstage, still waving at the crowd until they disappeared from view.
As soon as he turned the lock on the performers’ dressing room, Rory rushed to the bathroom and threw up noisily. Ana and Take casually waited for him to rejoin them. Rory had excellent stage presence but the worst case of performance anxiety they’d ever seen. He mostly used his Gift to control it during their shows, but it always hit him hard as soon as he relaxed. Take tried to prevent him from eating much beyond nutritional shakes before a show, knowing most of it was just going to come right back up again afterward.
“Are you okay?” he thought along the link.
“Peachy,” came Rory’s sardonic reply as he washed his mouth out and brushed his teeth.
Ana shook her head. “It amazes me that you’ve been performing since high school and you still haven’t got over this. Maybe you should see a shrink.”
Weak laughter floated from the bathroom before Rory returned and sat down. “And tell him what? That I kill vampires to steady my nerves? That would really go over well.”
A knock sounded at the door. As Take went to answer it, Ana instinctively readied a defensive spell.
“Don’t worry about it, Ana.” Rory
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