Silent Oath
Locked Within Trilogy
Book Two
Paul Anthony Shortt
Genre: Urban
Fantasy
Publisher: WiDo Publishing
Date of
Publication: October 8th, 2013
Cover Artist:
Steven Novak
Book Description:
Hope has returned to New
York City. Nathan Shepherd leads a small band of dedicated fighters against the
Council of Chains and the city's supernatural masters. But it's not enough.
Because from the shadows of Nathan's former lives comes an old enemy, one who
knows terrible secrets that Nathan has not yet remembered, secrets that could
undo everything he has fought for.
Nathan's only chance to uncover the memories
of his previous existence, and to conquer these new forces of evil, lies in
Elena DeSantis. A woman he has fought beside in past lifetimes. A woman he has
loved.
Together, Nathan and Elena are the only
future the city has.
CHAPTER ONE
Nathan Shepherd opened his hooded
coat and quietly drew his sword from its sheath. Scanning the doorways and
rooftops for movement, he ventured through the alley, dark puddles rippling
under his boots.
Nathan watched the doorways and windows for movement.
The creature Nathan was hunting, a vampire named Garth, had been too greedy.
The smiling face of a young woman was burned into Nathan’s memory, and the
story of how her body was found, what had been done to her, buried in the
corner of a newspaper like she didn’t matter. Vampires didn’t have to kill
their victims, they just liked to. Garth would pay.
Someone screamed. Nathan followed the sound to a back street
and took cover, stealing a quick glance around the corner. He saw two figures
running. The lead was a small, rail-thin boy; late teens as far as Nathan could
make out. He had a good head start on the pale, bald man hurtling along behind
him. Even so far away, Nathan could make out the feral eyes and hear the snarls.
That’s him. He lowered his sword and
waited.
First the skinny kid ran past. Nathan counted a beat
and swung his arm out from around the corner, clotheslining Garth. The vampire
hit the ground. The boy he was chasing looked back, then tripped, careening
into a trashcan.
“Evening, Garth.” Nathan stepped over him. “Been
looking for you.”
The vampire wasted no time on words. He twisted and
kicked Nathan’s legs out from under him before leaping to his feet and running
toward the boy. Nathan pulled a small throwing knife from a slot in his leather
utility harness and flicked it at Garth. The knife lodged in Garth’s back. He
turned and snarled. “You’re pissing me off.”
“Good,” Nathan got to his feet. “I was beginning to
worry I’d never get good at this.”
Garth sprinted down the alleyway. Nathan swept his
sword in a low arc, cutting across Garth’s stomach as he passed. The vampire’s
speed threw him off balance, and he let his guard drop. Garth lashed out with
black claws across Nathan’s arm. The coat’s armored lining protected him from
serious injury, but Garth followed up with two rapid punches to his face.
Tasting blood, Nathan thrust his sword out, running
Garth through. He took Garth off his feet with a kick to the knee. Holding Garth
down with his foot, Nathan lifted his sword and brought it down on Garth’s
neck. It was not a clean cut, but it was enough.
The body began to dry up and broke apart into dust
while Nathan backed away, taking in deep breaths. Sloppy. Too many mistakes. If Nathan didn’t get those under control
they’d get him killed eventually. At least his hands didn’t shake afterward
anymore.
Nathan turned to the boy that Garth had been chasing,
who was still lying on the ground.
“You . . . ” The boy stood slowly. “You’re him, aren’t
you?”
Nathan nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Eric.” The boy clutched a gray courier bag to his
chest like his life depended on it.
“Why was the vampire after you, Eric?”
“He wanted my bag. I’m in the trade.”
The trade. It meant the boy wasn’t just aware of the
supernatural; he was an active part of the hidden world. Probably someone’s
apprentice.
“Where’s home?” Nathan asked. “Close?”
Eric nodded, “My dad’s store is half a block from
here. Baum’s Curiosity Shop.”
“Get going.”
Eric began to go, but stopped and turned. “Thank you,
sir.”
Nathan nodded a goodbye and closed his coat again
before making his way out of the back streets.
Would my parents be proud of me? It wasn’t the first
time Nathan Shepherd had wondered that over the last nine months. His mother,
Louise, had taught him to look out for those in need. Strength isn’t in your fists, she used to say, it’s in the way people take care of each other. His father, Mike,
was a firefighter. He’d spent his life saving people. While Nathan could recall
any moment in his life with perfect accuracy, the image of his dad, tall and
broad-shouldered, walking out the door in his uniform, held a special place in
his heart. The first hero a little boy ever had. The one person he could always
rely on to save the day. After being injured by a vampire named Eli, Mike had
chosen to save Nathan instead of getting himself to a hospital. He died while
Nathan was fighting a soul eater, a monster that fed on the essence of mortals.
I never got to say
goodbye.
His coat pulled at him in the light spring breeze. It
had taken him five nights to track this one down. The Council of Chains had
started to get cautious. Although it made his work more difficult, it meant
they were starting to be afraid.
I’ve saved lives. That would make his
father proud, wouldn’t it?
Nathan picked up some coffee on the way back to his truck, a dark
green four-door flatbed pickup. He may have gotten over the shaking hands, but
the hollow feeling in his stomach and brief dizzy spells told him his
adrenaline was wearing off. He checked the time. Ten fifty-five. The coffee
warmed Nathan’s throat as he drained the cup. He scanned the streets before
climbing into the truck and starting the engine. No matter which station Nathan
turned to, the radio announced increased gang violence. He really needed to get
his hands on a police scanner. Mainstream media could only provide so many
leads on supernatural attacks. Let the gang members kill each other. The cops
could handle that themselves. Nathan had more specialized concerns.
Live jazz music flowed into the street as Nathan
pulled up outside Hook and Ladder.
His father, Mike, had dreamed of opening this place. Nathan waved to Sam
Kinnon, a tall man with short blonde hair, tidy stubble, and shirtsleeves
rolled up over thick-muscled arms.
Sam’s father had been a friend of Mike’s from his old
fire fighter company. After an encounter with a vampire one night when they
were closing up, Nathan revealed the truth about the supernatural world, and
Sam admitted that he’d dreamed about past lives too.
“Done?” Sam leaned in to the car window.
“Garth’s dead. I’ll let the family know tomorrow.
How’re we doing?”
“Business is good. The more vampires and ghouls you
kill, the more folk feel safe here. But the Council sent people out again.”
“Who?”
“Some bruiser named Lucius.”
Lucius was a vampire. Nathan knew him by reputation
only, but he had become the head enforcer for New York’s official ruler,
Vincent Dorian.
“They’re sniffing close, boss. We need to be careful.”
Nathan rubbed his eyes. “I just need the support of a
few more outside conclaves. Then they won’t be able to touch us.”
“They can kill you for this, can’t they?”
“Violating the treaty? They can do worse than that, if
they have proof.”
The East Coast Treaty forbade reborn from entering the
city. Nathan was free to stay because he hadn’t been involved in the war fought
against the Council over fifteen years ago, but inviting others to New York was
treading dangerous ground. Even employing Sam was technically a violation.
“You coming in?” Sam shifted uneasily as he changed
the subject. “Band is good. You’d like them.”
Nathan shook his head. “Not tonight. I want to get
some rest. Big day tomorrow. After the funeral I’ve also got to meet the people
from New Orleans.”
“I thought Chicago was tomorrow?”
“No, their guy canceled.”
“Again? That’s the third time this month.”
“Apparently Chicago’s a busy town. Someone named
Murphy is meant to fill me in when they get a chance.”
“All right. I’d better get back to work. See you
later.” Sam went inside. Seeing the people through the doorway, drinking and
dancing together, Nathan realized how long it had been since he’d had a night
off. The band was playing an Artie Shaw cover. Sam was right; they were good.
Nathan parked his truck in the small lot tucked behind
the bar and took two large sports bags out from under the tarp in the back.
The second-floor apartment had an external entrance up
a winding set of metal stairs that rattled as Nathan climbed them. He’d been
meaning to get them looked at for a while.
Inside the apartment was well kept. The previous
tenant had decorated it with light earth tones and left behind several
comfortable couches and a bed. Nathan stepped in to a small hallway that led to
the stairs on his left and the door into the main room on his right. The main room
spread out in a wide open plan with a kitchen area and breakfast bar in the far
corner opposite the doors for the bathroom and bedroom. Bookshelves lined the
wall, containing collections of novels and arcane texts Nathan had sourced from
occult dealers. On one shelf, over a stereo and sitting between Mike’s jazz CDs
and Nathan’s collection of classic rock, sat a small frame. Inside the frame
rested the medal Mike had been awarded for rescuing half a dozen people from a
burning building. Mike had been severely burned in the incident, forcing him
into early retirement.
Nathan set his bags down next to the standing maps and
charts arranged around his computer desk before hanging his coat on a hook on
the wall.
Nathan left his sword propped against the wall. An
ancient weapon he’d wielded in more than one lifetime, the hilt was decorated
with the stylized image of a phoenix surrounded by flames. He left his leather
utility harness on an armchair and went to the bathroom to check on his arm.
A gray reflection looked back at him in the mirror.
Black marks hung under his dark blue eyes. Sleep hadn’t exactly been a major
priority for a while. Just something he did as needed between patrolling the
streets and looking for his next target. At least the broken nose he’d suffered
fighting that ogre a few months ago had set well. His nose hadn’t lost its
smooth line, angled like a hawk. A haircut might have been in order. His russet
mop was far too unruly when allowed to grow out. And he needed to shave.
Nathan rubbed his eyes and took some antiseptic
ointment from the medicine cabinet before removing his light long-sleeved
t-shirt. The shirt was ripped a little, but he could patch it later. His coat
would need some repair work too. It was already starting to look like the skin
of Frankenstein’s monster, but the padding in the lining had saved his life
several times. Nathan hated seeing the coat get damaged though. It had belonged
to his father. Of course, that was before members of the underground-dwelling
people known as The Lost had modified it for him, adding secret pockets and
armor.
The cuts on his arm were light and had already stopped
bleeding. Still, he wiped them down with some antiseptic, ignoring the sting.
With that done, Nathan checked on the thick stripe of reddened, waxy flesh
between his neck and right shoulder. The memento of a vampire bite that was
treated both to purge the venom and to remove the scent of the vampire that had
bitten him. Eli. Every time he looked at the scar he saw Eli’s sneering
grin and the knife going into his father’s stomach. Killing him hadn’t made the
pain go away.
Nathan flexed and rotated his arm, testing the skin
around the joint. Still a bit stiff. He put on a fresh sweater and went to his
map of the city, all stuck with color-coded pins representing recent numbers of
attacks by supernatural predators. He kept a stock of blue pins for any time he
managed to put one of them down for good. Nathan pressed one of the blue pins
into the spot where Garth had died. That made 17 since he’d started his
mission. Looking at the sheer volume of other pins, Nathan tried to tell
himself that this was not a losing battle.
It was only a matter of time, he kept repeating to
himself. Time and determination. Then one day he’d be ready to take on Dorian
and topple the power of the Council of Chains for good. One day.
After booting up his computer and checking the news
feeds for more reports of unexplained incidents or mysterious disappearances,
Nathan sat back in his chair, feeling himself sink into the leather. He looked
up at a collection of sketches pinned to a board on the wall. Faces of men and
women dressed in styles from throughout history gazed back at him. Some pretty,
some handsome, some homely. Some smiled while others frowned in anger or
sadness. All young, between their late teens and early thirties. Nathan had
known them all. Although he could recall their faces in perfect detail with a
moment’s concentration, he still liked to look at them. Thoughts of killing and
death faded away, sore muscles eased and Nathan drifted to sleep.
About the Author:
A child at heart who turned
to writing and roleplaying games when there simply weren't enough action
figures to play out the stories he wanted, Paul Anthony Shortt has been writing
all his life. Growing up surrounded by music, film and theatre gave him a deep
love of all forms of storytelling, each teaching him something new he could
use. When not playing with the people in his head, he enjoys cooking and
regular meet-ups with his gaming group.
Paul lives in Ireland with his wife Jen and
their dogs, Pepper and Jasper. Their first child, Conor William Henry Shortt,
was born on July 11th, 2011. He passed away three days later, but brought love
and joy into their lives and those of their friends. The following year, Jen
gave birth to twins, Amy and Erica.
Paul's first novel, Locked Within,
was released on November 6th, 2012, by WiDo Publishing. Silent Oath is
the second book in this urban fantasy trilogy.
Twitter: @PAShortt
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