Sanctuary: The Sorcerers' Scourge: Book Two Read online

  Sanctuary

  The Sorcerers’ Scourge: Book Two

  By Michael Arches

  Copyright by Pyrenees Publishing 2017

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  More information about my books and Colorado’s high country is available at: www.michaelarches.com

  Table of 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

  Book 3 Excerpt—Vengeance

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  Chapter 1

  Wednesday, October 16th

  Mayor Zack Byrne’s Home, Boulder, Colorado

  THAT EVENING, I FACED one of my worst nightmares—a party full of strangers having fun. I was standing with our clan’s druid priestess, Diana Murray, outside an old stone house in the fanciest part of the city. A tall sugar maple blazed orange and red as it towered over us like some mountain ready to crash down on us. In front of the house, scarlet viburnums and sand cherries were putting on their own scarlet displays, like their leaves were soaked with blood from some recent slaughter.

  No one else seemed to see the warning signs. A dozen people were wandering in groups out on the front lawn, eating hors d’oeuvres and drinking as though their lives weren’t about to end at any moment. The headline tomorrow would read, Horrific End to the Mayor’s Fiftieth Birthday Party!

  “Why do I have to endure this brain damage?” I asked Diana. “I hardly know Zack Byrne.”

  She was a powerfully built woman who had a habit of ignoring my legitimate concerns about our safety.

  “Stop fighting the bit, Ian. You’re here because I want you here. And I want you here because the mayor wants to show you off. He’s doing us a huge favor by publicly associating with a notorious witch like you. As long as the local paper keeps writing stories about your fights with sorcerers and the law, we need every friend we can gather.”

  I’d done my best to keep a low profile, but a district attorney in Oklahoma was determined to extradite me back to Oklahoma to face a cop-killer charge. And, even worse, the bad publicity had convinced the local sorcerers to hone in on me.

  “What if the opposition shows up?” I asked.

  “They don’t want a scandal here anymore than we do,” she said. “Just enjoy the party.”

  That made as much sense as sticking my tongue in a wall socket, but I resolved to do my best to at least survive the party.

  The house was so packed with well-wishers that it took us a couple of minutes to squeeze inside.

  A waiter was standing near the entrance holding a tray filled with glasses of champagne. I took one and handed another to Diana.

  “Do you know all these people?” I asked.

  She glanced around. “Most of them, but that shouldn’t be surprising. As Zack’s chief of staff, I invited all these folks. Although…I see one person I haven’t met yet.”

  She pointed at a tall man standing by the fireplace who looked to be about twenty-five. He was a few inches taller than me, and his broad chest and massive arms told me he was a weightlifter. I’d earned my muscles back on the farm, which left me slenderer but still strong. This guy was wearing a tailored suit that fit great, unlike the navy sports coat I’d bought off the rack at Goodwill. His bright smile seemed to dazzle the women surrounding him. A playboy with too much time on his hands.

  Diana said, “I hear that Zack’s nephew from County Kildare just moved to America. That man certainly resembles the mayor. I’d wager he’s the nephew, Oran Byrne.”

  “His face is too pretty. Reminds me of some girls I’ve known. Has to be fake.”

  As we passed by him, she froze for a few seconds before moving on.

  A moment later, we were far enough from him to talk without being heard. I asked, “What was that about?”

  “Interesting,” Diana replied. “He’s hiding his aura, but I felt magic emanating from him. Zack told me a few days ago that none of his Irish relatives were blessed with power.”

  “A sorcerer or a witch?”

  “I sensed a shadow looming.”

  That didn’t bode well. “Let’s get farther away, or that scandal you talked about just might happen.”

  Diana and I inched our way toward the back porch, where the mayor was supposed to be holding forth. As we left Oran behind, I couldn’t help but wonder how the pretty boy would handle himself in a no-holds-barred magical street fight. Big muscles were a plus, but cunning was more important. Having both was best, but I hadn’t reached that lofty status yet.

  When we made it to the back yard, Zack was too busy grilling and pontificating to do more than wave at us, so we grabbed food from a nearby table. Three burgers and another glass of champagne put me back in a better frame of mind. As long as Oran kept his distance, the chance for trouble was low.

  Everybody seemed to know Diana, so she drew plenty of attention from the crowd. I only knew the mayor and his wife, so I followed Diana around like a lost puppy while she was schmoozing the politicos. She introduced me, and I’d shake their hands, listen politely, and hope I wouldn’t have to remember anyone’s name.

  Zack finally finished cooking and approached Diana and me. He patted my back like we were old buddies. “Delighted you could come. That kitten you saved is going strong. If we’d lost him, it would’ve broken my little Jenny’s heart.”

  Two weeks ago, I’d healed the cat’s inoperable heart defect. That had worked out great, and I’d shared a few minutes of pure joy with the mayor, his wife, and their granddaughter Jennifer. Healing critters was my true calling.

  “Really glad I could help.”

  He beamed at me. “The Good Lord works in mysterious ways.”

  “Amen,” I said. I’d been raised a Methodist, but my guess was that Wakonda, the Great Mystery Spirit, had saved the kitten. All I knew for sure was that some god favored me with healing.

  Zack and Diana talked shop, and I went back to imagining the worst that could happen to me in a crowd of a hundred. Maybe a plane would crash on top of us, or a neighbor who hated noise would blast us with his AK-47. The bottom line was that collecting people in crowds was never a good idea.

  After the mayor had been pulled aside by one of the caterers, I whispered to Diana, “We’ve put in a respectable showing. Can we go now?”

  She chewed on an apple tart and shook her head. “No. The mayor wants us to meet the nephew. He’s supposed to live here for a few months while he ‘does America’.” She made air quotes with her fingers. “Boulder will be his home base.”

  I groaned. “Doesn’t Zack know that inviting both sorcerers and witches is sure-fire way to ruin his party?”

  She shook her head. “He obviously doesn’t know the kid’s a bad apple.”

  Before I could figure a good way out of this mess, I spotted the mayor headed toward us, dragging along his black sheep. Just as quickly, my sense of boredom vanished, and I began to conjure a ward.

  Zack grinned. “Oran, I’d like you to meet Ian O’Rourke and my right-hand woman, Diana Murray.” He pointed at us. “Both are huge fans of the Emerald Isle.
Folks, I’d like to introduce you to my handsome nephew, Oran. Born and raised in Kildare, southwest of Dublin.”

  I couldn’t avoid him any longer, so I smiled and stuck out my rough, scarred hand. As Oran reached out, I noticed that his nails were perfectly manicured. When our fingers touched, a spark passed between us, and I felt a wave of despair. The guy was definitely a sorcerer.

  I tried to hide my reaction. He smirked, and his deep green eyes flashed at me.

  I glanced at Zack, but he’d turned away momentarily, distracted by another well-wisher.

  Diana stiffened as Oran shook her hand.

  I always kept my aura under tight control so I wouldn’t be recognized as magical by passing strangers, but any magician would recognize another when they touched. Nevertheless, I had no desire to confront the nephew now. He’d done nothing bad that I knew of, and the reporter who was my main enemy, Cindy Paxil, had attended the festivities. She’d love nothing more than a front-page story about a brawl.

  I studied Diana to gauge how I should react. She put on a fake smile, so I did, too.

  “Amusing,” Oran said in a lilting Irish baritone. “I’m meeting such interesting…scum here.”

  Too much weirdness for me. At least Diana would have to deal with this asshole.

  Zack turned back to us. “I’ve convinced Oran to rent an apartment in Boulder while he’s exploring our great country. Because he has no friends in town, it seemed natural for him to get to know others here with Irish ancestry.”

  Oran didn’t hesitate to play along. “Of course, Zack. I’d be delighted to spend time with Ian and Diana. Erin go Bragh.”

  We all clinked glasses and drank to honor Ireland.

  “Diana,” Zack said, “I forgot to tell you. Oran is going to intern part-time in the office. He’s a real student of politics in the old country, and he’s dying to see how government in America operates.”

  Diana smiled, but happiness didn’t reach her eyes. “Excellent.”

  We chatted about Colorado’s weather, which had already turned cold, until Zack was dragged away by someone.

  As soon as he’d left the three of us alone, Diana’s fake smile vanished. “Oran, as long as you stay out of my way and harm none, I won’t blurt out your nasty little secret.”

  He smirked. “I can live with a truce, although you seem you have as much to lose as I.”

  “Not so.” Diana glared at him. “Zack knows we’re witches, but I doubt he realizes you dwell in the darkness.”

  Oran grinned at us. “You would’ve found out sooner or later, so it might as well have been today. I’ll observe a truce as long as you filthy witches keep up your end of the bargain.”

  Diana turned on her heel, and I followed her around the house and out to the street.

  -o-o-o-

  AFTER WE WERE SAFELY in her car, I said, “Holy shit! He’s powerful. I only lasted three weeks as the toughest son of a bitch in the valley.”

  Diana leaned her head against the steering wheel. “Why would a sorcerer intern in the mayor’s office? His family is very wealthy, so I doubt he’s worked a day in his life.”

  “Beats me.” I looked up and held my hands together in thanks. “Diana, you’ll have to deal with him.” I stayed quiet for a moment. “It’s been so peaceful lately.”

  “Our happy interlude is over,” she said, followed by a growl. “We need constant vigilance again.”

  “I can’t take him in a fight, if it comes to that.”

  “Me either,” she replied. “And we can’t afford to pay anyone strong enough.”

  I did see one bit of good news. “I doubt you have to worry about Oran attacking you at the office. He’d have to explain a hell of a lot to his uncle.”

  She nodded. “But only one thing is certain. His eyes have five slivers.”

  I should’ve looked, but he’d caught me off-guard. Each time a magician won a fight, a sliver of his opponent’s cornea showed up in the winner’s eye. “Okay, he’s won five fights. I’ve beaten seven sorcerers.”

  Diana nodded. “But his opponents must’ve been tougher. I’m sure he’s stronger than you. That means serious trouble.”

  And that wasn’t the only trouble we faced. Before Diana started the car, a man walked up the sidewalk from behind our car and used his staff to smack the windshield in front of me, producing a large crack.

  Then he yelled, “I challenge you for magical power!”

  When he froze, I glanced at Diana.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Make him hurt. I just replaced that windshield.”

  The sorcerer was a burly Hispanic guy with long hair and a scruffy beard. His arms bulged with muscles. He sure looked tougher than the average asshole.

  “He just caught me by surprise,” I said. “Why can’t you fight one of these guys for a change?”

  She scowled. “I don’t want to mess up my dress. Go!”

  “If I lose, tell Laura and Christina I love them.”

  Then I grabbed my staff, exited the car, and focused my attention on the sorcerer.

  My first task was to create a ward, so I brought up my memory of a limestone formation at Carter Pass. Visualizing that natural rampart helped me strengthen my invisible magical barrier. I moved onto the lawn of the house we’d parked in front of so we wouldn’t be fighting in the path of pedestrians. They couldn’t see us, but they might get in the way.

  The bastard unfroze, and a buzzing began in my ears. That told me the fight was on. He immediately fired a shocking spell that hit my invisible barrier with a clang. I staggered back, and my ward hummed from the impact. It seemed to hold, though.

  To build my anger, I started swearing at my attacker. “You son of a bitch! Only a fucking coward attacks a witch from behind!” Then I pointed my staff at him and yelled, “HOLARTHON, CHOQUE!”

  Green lightning erupted from the rounded head of my staff and blasted him. His ward evaporated, and the lightning surrounded him, making his whole body glow. He twitched and shuddered, but remained standing on the grass.

  This was my chance to put him down quickly. Although the asshole was bigger than I was, I ran at him. When I got close, I threw all my weight behind my fist.

  I hit him in the chin hard enough to knock him off his feet and throw him backwards.

  Unfortunately, I’d hit too hard. A stabbing pain raced from my right hand up my arm, and every nerve in that hand seemed to ignite. I must’ve busted a bone or five in my hand. I couldn’t move any of my fingers.

  At least he’d suffered, too. The sorcerer was screaming in agony, thrashing on the lawn. After a few seconds, he crawled behind a tall stand of lilacs on one side of the lawn.

  I didn’t want him to realize I’d hurt myself. That meant I had to end this fight soon.

  After chasing him around the shrubs, I pointed my staff again. “HOLARTHON, ASSOMME!”

  The bastard froze from my stunning spell, curled up on the ground.

  That should’ve been enough to finish him, but the buzzing continued.

  He hadn’t given up, but I’d used up all my anger for the moment. Fury is what fueled attack spells. And with only one good hand left, I couldn’t punch too well.

  As soon as he could move again, he fired another lightning bolt at me. I’d forgotten about maintaining my ward, so his spell hit me full in the chest.

  “Ooof.” I convulsed, dropped to the ground, and screamed in pain. He hit me with lightning again—pure, burning agony—but he didn’t follow up with a third spell. He must’ve used up his magic, too, for the moment.

  Instead, he scrambled over to where I was on the ground and kicked me in the side of the head.

  He’d almost knocked me out. Shattering pain tore me. My mind fogged to where I could only see bright yellow circles and tiny dots of green light. I had to strain to stay awake so I wouldn’t lose.

  He kicked again, but I rolled away until I hit the lilacs. Once his leg w
as fully extended, I grabbed his foot with my good hand and pulled him down. Then I pointed my fingers at his face. “HOLARTHON, CHOQUE!”

  A ball of red lightning formed around his head, igniting his long hair and scraggly beard. The stench from his burning skin and hair was sweeter than any perfume I could imagine.

  The fire quickly died out, leaving his skin red and blistered. His eyes were filled with tears, and he waved his arms around like he was trying to touch me.

  He should’ve given up before, but apparently, he’s not that smart.

  I stood and grabbed my staff again. Towering over him, I said in a calm voice, “Idiot, you’re blind and overwhelmed. Plus, I’m still pissed enough now to shock the living shit out of you. If you give up, you won’t suffer any more. If you don’t, no mercy.”

  But the sorcerer still didn’t throw in the towel. Instead, he mumbled the beginning of another spell. Before he could get it out, I placed the top of my staff against his forehead.

  “HOLARTHON, CHOQUE!”

  A current of electricity flowed from my staff directly into the bastard. He jolted and thrashed as my magical power tore through him.

  “Take some for Hudson, too!” I said to keep my anger flowing. Sid Hudson was the head of the Boulder sorcerers, and he almost certainly was behind this attack.

  I stood over the sorcerer and stared in wonder as he resisted giving up.

  The sorcerer vomited and scraped his face across the mulch around the bushes while he was thrashing. Then he lost control of his bladder. There were no more screams; he was just whimpering, and the buzzing in my ears finally ended.

  After I’d caught my breath, stunned by the amount of punishment the idiot had taken, now, though, the guy was lying there, limp. I knew he couldn’t walk to Diana’s car. I carried the moron, and Diana pulled a tarp from her trunk and placed it over the back seat. Then I laid him out.

  “Nice work,” Diana said. “Too bad about your sport coat and pants.”

  I glanced at my clothes. Rolling around on the dirt and grass had ruined them. “You can buy me another set, but I have more important problems.”