Fire Summoning (The Sentinels Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Fire Summoning

  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

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Further Information

  Author’s Note

  COPYRIGHT

  Fire Summoning

  The Sentinels Book 2

  Copyright © 2016 by David J. Normoyle

  ~

  My name is Rune and I recommend not falling in love with your would-be executioner. Of course, I don’t necessarily practice what I preach.

  I have to figure out why several orphans have been possessed by elementals and stop shifter criminals who want to destroy the city’s prison before it’s even built. But my worst problem is that Sash, equal parts beautiful and deadly, is immune to my goofy charm and appears determined to carry out her bloody assignment.

  I fear I’m going to find out how much loves hurts.

  ~

  Sign up to the author’s mailing list to get a prequel to The Sentinels, plus prequels to two other series: http://davidjnormoyle.com/sent-readers-list/

  Chapter 1

  Sunday 13:20

  These days the attic room in 102 Fenster Street always felt cold.

  I sat hunched over a motherboard, soldering out a processing chip. The larger chips could have hundreds or even thousands of contact points so were difficult to detach. I touched the hot iron to the legs of the chip, and when the hot solder turned liquid, I lifted up a corner of the chip with needlenose pliers. I repeated the process all the way around until it was loose enough that I could pry it free without damaging anything. I threw the chip into a plastic container, then lifted the board up to the light.

  I shook my head in disgust. It was uglier than when I’d started working on it two hours ago. I tossed it into a cardboard box under my desk. It fell out, rejected by a box already overflowing with failures. I kicked out, and the board slid across the floor and crashed against a wall with a satisfying crack.

  I looked up at the wall over my bed where other motherboards decorated the world. What had I been thinking? I’d considered myself avant-garde cool, creating a new artform. But Alex had been right—I had just been sticking trash on a wall.

  I glanced behind at the neon signs on Alex’s side of the room and at the posters and quotes on Jo’s wall. Two months had passed since they’d lived here, and I hadn’t touched any of their stuff.

  After the turmoil of the fight at Yarley’s bar, it had been a boring two months. I knew it was a temporary lull. As a sentinel, I was a part of the magical world whether I wanted to be or not. Not to mention that I was due to be on trial for magical crimes.

  I turned suddenly, hearing a distant bang. The bang came again, and fine dust trailed down from one corner of the ceiling. I left my room and cautiously descended the stairs, seeking the source of the noise.

  In the living room, Tyler stood on a chair, hammering a nail into the wall. Pete stood beside him with a large wooden cross in his hands.

  “Have you two discovered religion?” I asked.

  Tyler jerked, and his hammer struck a hole in the wall. He twisted his head around and the chair wobbled and he fell. Upon hitting the floor, he scrambled to hide behind the couch. His head poked up. “Dude,” he said when he saw it was me.

  “What’s up with him?” I asked Pete.

  Pete had also reacted to my arrival. He held the cross in front of his face in a protective gesture. “You can’t creep up on people like that after what just happened,” he said.

  “What just happened?” I asked.

  “On the news, dude, didn’t you see it?” Pete put down the cross, leaning it against the wall.

  “I thought you didn’t watch the news,” I said. “Don’t you consider news channels to be the propaganda machines of our capitalist overlords?”

  “This is different. What Mayor Maxwell says changes everything,” Pete said.

  Tyler came out from behind the couch.

  “You look different,” I said to him. Pete and Tyler had previously looked like two peas in a pod, both with long hair, straggly beards, and both wearing loose clothes meant for comfort rather than style.

  Tyler rubbed at his bare chin, his fingers moving hesitantly as if they still found the lack of facial hair alien. “I’m changing my image.” He wasn’t wearing his signature pink dressing gown and purple crocs, instead wearing jeans, a T-shirt and white sneakers.

  “You look normal,” I told him. I wasn’t sure it suited him.

  “The whole world has been turned upside down, and Tyler starts worrying about stupid shit like whether he has changed his underwear this week,” Pete said.

  “When did the whole world turn upside down? And why did no one tell me?” I figured Pete was overreacting to the government doing something he didn’t like.

  “Yesterday,” Pete said. “Everyone’s talking about it. You can’t not know, can you?”

  Had I talked to anyone recently? I wasn’t sure.

  You haven’t talked to anyone since leaving work on Friday, you loser, Jerome thought.

  I tugged on the barbed wire necklace around my throat. Thanks for that, I thought back at him. Jerome, the elemental trapped inside my necklace, never missed a chance to insult me.

  “I’ll show you.” Tyler sat down on the couch and opened up his laptop. He navigated to YouTube. I leaned down to watch as he searched for ‘Mayor Maxwell supernatural’. The first video that popped up had over a million views and had been uploaded yesterday.

  It was difficult for anything to go viral that quickly, but I guessed the mayor revealing the truth about supernatural activity would have an extraordinary effect. Harriet Ashley had told me that shades were coming out of the shadows. I guessed it was starting to happen.

  A shiver ran up my spine. “I’m not sure I want to see this.”

  “You can’t ignore it.” Tyler clicked on the video and selected the fullscreen option.

  Mayor Maxwell appeared on screen, standing at a lectern in front of City Hall. A silver-haired career politician, he shuffled the papers in front of him, a sombre expression on his face, before looking at the camera and speaking. “Citizens of Lusteer, I have some startling news that must be shared with you. This will come as a huge shock to many of you, but I urge you not to panic.”

  Idiot, Jerome thought. Saying ‘don’t panic’ is the likeliest way of causing panic.

  I glanced at the circular hole in the wall caused by Tyler’s hammer, then at the large wooden cross underneath it. Jerome was probably right.

  “Supernatural creatures walk among us,” Mayor Maxwell continued. “They are few in number, but here in Lusteer, we will no longer allow our citizens to remain in the dark about their existence. Most of them look like us, though some have magical abilities and can transform into animal-like creatures. However, and I can’t stress this enough, these supernaturals, or shades as many have taken to calling them, are not evil.”

  You hear that, Jerome, I thought, you don’t have to be evil.<
br />
  Good to know, Jerome thought back. Evil is more fun though.

  Mayor Maxwell paused before continuing again. “The city will work with the leaders of these shades as necessary, and we will deal with any that break our laws the same way we would any criminals. We plan to put together brochures to inform and educate everyone about the nature of magic. The scariest part of these shades is that they are unknown. For now, keep calm, and know that we have the situation under control.” The video ended.

  “He sounds like he hasn’t met many shades,” I said. “The scary part is what they can do, not that they are unknown.”

  “What can they do?” Tyler asked. “Have you met any?”

  I didn’t want to get into that. “So.” I nodded at the cross. “You are hanging that up for protection.”

  “Not just the cross.” Tyler took two shopping bags from under the coffee table, and he pulled out several cartons of garlic and mushrooms. “We had to scour the city to find garlic, couldn’t find any. Eventually we offered to trade weed for garlic with Shotgun Serge. The idiot agreed.”

  I never thought I’d see the day that Pete and Tyler were separated from their weed for a vegetable. The world had truly turned upside down. “I understand the garlic, but why mushrooms?” I asked.

  “Dude, garlic and mushrooms go together, everyone knows that,” Tyler said.

  Pete nodded in agreement. “Everyone knows that.”

  “Are you sure that garlic works? The mayor didn’t even mention vampires.” I had met several shades but never a vampire. And I was pretty sure garlic wouldn’t bother them if they did exist.

  “We have to work with what we know,” Tyler said.

  Pete grabbed the second plastic bag and fumbled inside until he came out with a DVD boxed set in his hand. “This will be the key.”

  I looked at the title. “Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You know that’s fiction?”

  “Are you certain?” Pete asked. “Now we know that supernaturals are real, we have to question everything.”

  “Buffy and her crew was able to defeat all kinds of monsters,” Tyler said. “We might find the key to survival there.”

  “That’s...” I hesitated. I wanted to say it was stupid but the truth was that the Harry Potter story had helped me when I had defeated Yarley two months earlier. Not directly, of course, but it provided a point of reference. At the very least, it couldn’t hurt Pete and Tyler to see monsters being defeated. It might give them more courage. “That’s a good idea,” I told them.

  “Do you think it’s true that vampires can’t enter a house unless invited?” Tyler asked.

  At that moment, someone knocked loudly on the front door.

  Chapter 2

  Sunday 14:05

  Tyler and Pete turned and stared at each other. Pete’s lips trembled.

  “Don’t invite him him,” Tyler said.

  “Guys, it’s not a vampire. Just a coincidence,” I said.

  “No one knocks at Ten-two,” Pete said.

  That was true. The door was always unlocked and our friends knew to walk in and out at will. I moved hesitantly toward the front window.

  You are supposed to be a sentinel. Brave guardian of the human race. Jerome gave a mental chuckle. And you jump at shadows like these losers.

  Sentinels don’t have to be brave.

  Still, instead of creeping to the window to vet whoever it is, I straightened my back, walked out into the hall, and opened the door. Robert Bobbit stood on the doorstep, wearing a flashy Hawaiian shirt, tailored shorts, and sandals.

  “It’s okay,” I told Tyler and Pete. “I know this guy.”

  A vampire would have been better, Jerome thought. You know what this means.

  I did.

  “So he’s not one of those supernaturals,” Tyler asked.

  “Ah.” I hesitated. Bobbit was a sentinel like me. “He’s not a shade.”

  “How does one even know any more?” Pete said. “For all I know Tyler could be a shade.”

  “I’m not,” Tyler said.

  “That’s exactly what a shade would say,” Pete said.

  “How do I know you’re not a shade?” Tyler asked Pete.

  “Dude, don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m not a shade. That’s self-evident,” Pete said.

  “It can’t be self-evident,” Tyler said. “By definition.”

  I stepped outside, letting the door swing closed behind me. “So. It’s time?”

  Bobbit nodded. “Time for your trial.” He walked to the front gate, then turned back when he realized I wasn’t following. “You have no choice.”

  “I could run.”

  “It’s a bit late for that. And that was never your wisest option.”

  If I didn’t come, a sentinel would be sent to kill me. Bobbit was right, though—if running had been my intention I should have already left. “What’s the likely outcome of this trial?” I asked.

  “Just come on.” Bobbit led the way to a bright yellow SUV with golf clubs prominently visible in the back.

  I slid into the passenger seat and put on my seat-belt. Bobbit put the SUV into drive and pulled out into the street. “How’s the golf going?” I asked. “Did you make the PGA tour yet?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s going to happen.”

  “What happened to Jack Nicklaus, Tiger Woods, Rory McIlroy, Robert Bobbit?”

  “It was just a dream.”

  He was terrible at golf but great at self-delusion. “What’s changed since last we met?”

  “I’ve had a good life.”

  “Very morbid. It’s my trial we are going to, not yours.”

  Bobbit nodded. “Yes, of course. About that, be sure to follow my lead. I know Walker. I can get you out of this.” He glanced across at me, then returned his attention to the road in front of him. “I think.”

  That sounded more ominous than I would have liked. “I had hoped this Walker character had forgotten all about me by now. The incident happened two months ago.”

  “Walker doesn’t forget. He’s just always busy. I assured him that the situation wasn’t urgent, that the rogue—that’s you—wouldn’t get out of line again. Thankfully you haven’t.”

  “Has this happening now got something to do with the announcement Major Maxwell made?”

  “Not directly. But the same event has led to them both happening at the same time.”

  “What event is that?”

  “The possessions at Gorlam’s.”

  I jerked forward and grabbed his arm. “At the orphanage?”

  My action caused the steering wheel to jerk. “Let go of me,” Bobbit demanded, straightening the path of the SUV once more. “Are you trying to make us crash?”

  “Tell me about Gorlam’s. Who has been possessed? Why?”

  “I don’t know the details.” He glanced across at me. “Why are you so concerned? The girl you rescued?”

  I nodded. “She’s staying there. And her brother too.” They were no longer part of my life, but I couldn’t help fearing for them. Would they have contacted me if they were in danger?

  “I should have helped you back then,” Bobbit said. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”

  “It’s a bit late now,” I said sharply. Although everything had worked out in the end, it had been close. “What’s changed now? I thought your days of saving people were over. That you had enough of being a hero.”

  “I was angry at being forced out of active service by the order. I over-reacted by being totally unhelpful. I regret that now.”

  I glanced across at where he stared fixedly out the front windshield. “You mentioned that you might be able to get Walker to go easy on me.” Would Bobbit stick his neck out to help me? I wouldn’t have thought it likely from what I’d known of him before, but he seemed genuinely regretful. “Are you helping me to make amends for not doing anything before when I needed you.”

  “Something like that.”

  I looked around, getting my bearings. “Where a
re we going anyway?”

  “The airport.”

  “Okay. So, no courthouse, lawyers, juries or anything like that at this trial.”

  Bobbit didn’t reply, so Jerome decided to provide an answer. Don’t worry, the most important person will be there.

  You mean me?

  I mean the executioner.

  Chapter 3

  Sunday 14:55

  Bobbit didn’t follow the signs to the airport. He turned off the highway early, following ever-narrowing roads. I began to worry.

  “We aren’t skipping the trial and going directly to a shallow grave, are we?” I asked.

  Bobbit didn’t reply, and once again Jerome had some input. Maybe you’ve seen too many mobster movies, he thought.

  You’re the one who started the executioner stuff.

  Don’t worry, you’ll meet the judge first, Jerome thought. Then sentencing, then execution.

  This is just one of your theories, right? You don’t know for sure?

  Bobbit swerved onto a dirt road, kicking up dust. He didn’t slow, and despite the robust suspension on the SUV, I grabbed hold of the dash to prevent myself from being thrown around in my seat. A wave of noise roared over us, and I leaned forward to get a view of a 747 taking off over to our left. We were still heading to the airport, at least.

  Due to the swirling dust, it was only when Bobbit stopped that I saw the chain link fence blocking our way. It was twelve foot high with a twist of barbed wire along the top. Standing in front of the gate were two men wearing black suits and sporting dark sunglasses.

  Bobbit lowered his window as the taller of the two approached. “My name is Robert Bobbit. Walker is expecting us.”

  The man stuck his head in the window and looked around the interior of the car. “Pop the trunk.”

  “We aren’t—” Bobbit began.

  “Pop the trunk,” the man repeated, walking around to the back.

  Bobbit pressed a button behind the steering wheel. I twisted around in my seat to watch as the suit lifted the back hatch and scanned the trunk.

  After a few moments, the hatch was slammed shut, and the other man pulled the gate open. Bobbit drove into the airport, and, in the sideview mirror, I watched the two suits stand side by side watching us depart, before a dust cloud obscured them. Since Bobbit and I were both capable of magic I didn’t see what they was worried about us bringing.