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Blood Mage (Dark Impulse Book 1)
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Blood Mage
Edmund Hughes
This digital book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this title with another person, please purchase an additional copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Edmund Hughes
Kindle Edition
DEDICATIONS
To my grandfather, who I wish I’d gotten a chance to know, and whose death left me with more questions than answers.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I want to acknowledge all the people who have supported my work, either through advice, reviews, editing, or proofreading. And of course, my fantastic cover artist, Cherry-gig,
Contents
Blood Mage
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
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 1
No missed calls and no new texts. Jack felt a little disappointed, though not the slightest bit surprised. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and fell into step alongside his fellow passengers, most of whom were either yawning or stretching their legs. The flight had been a tedious eight hours, and that was including a layover in Boston and a switch to an uncomfortably tiny jet for the last stretch to Lestaron Island.
Jack followed the rest of the group on autopilot, only slowing and going his own way when he realized that they were heading to the small airport’s baggage claim. He’d only brought his backpack as a carry-on. A few changes of clothes were all he really needed, given that he wasn’t planning on staying for long.
Seeing Lestaron Island from the sky hadn’t brought the sense of familiarity he’d been expecting. It was a small island, a hundred square miles in area, but with a rocky shelf of cliffs cordoning off the eastern half. From the air, it’d looked like a stray smudge of green against the deep blue canvas of the ocean. Almost like something unintentional. A tiny, forgotten oasis of storm-weathered land against an endless expanse of sea.
The airport only had a single terminal, and Jack’s footsteps echoed through the silent lobby as he made his way out the main entrance. He stood at the edge of the sidewalk, feeling out of place and a little at a loss for what to do next. The sole taxi driver noticed him immediately, snuffing out a half-finished cigarette and standing to attention.
“Need a ride?” asked the driver.
“I’m expecting someone,” said Jack.
“Hotel recommendation, then?” asked the driver. “I can get you a discount at a good one if you drop my name.”
Jack smiled and shook his head. “I have a place to stay, but thanks.”
The driver frowned a little, glancing down at the cigarette he’d prematurely extinguished.
“Who are you here to visit?” asked the driver. “I probably know them. Everybody knows everyone in Lesser Town.”
“I’m here to settle my grandfather’s estate,” said Jack. “Peter Masterson.”
The taxi driver grimaced, and the expression added a dozen wrinkles onto his already aged face. He nodded a few times, and Jack could see genuine emotion in his reaction.
“Fuck,” said the taxi driver. “I knew Peter. Everyone here did. He was a real stand-up guy.”
“Yeah,” said Jack. “I guess he was.”
He let himself fall into reminiscence in the space of the silence that followed. Jack had lived on Lestaron Island until he was ten, but strangely, he could barely remember his grandfather. He felt a stab of shame as he reflected on how little he’d felt when his aunt and uncle had told him about his grandfather’s passing and volunteered him as the one to travel out to settle the old man’s estate.
He did remember his grandfather’s mansion, though more in a blurry, conceptual sense than in vivid detail. He also remembered how abruptly he’d left it as a child, and how scared he’d been on the way to live with his aunt and uncle after his parents had died.
A few of the other passengers had caught up to him, and the taxi driver was already offering them his services. Jack walked further down the drop-off lane, spotting a short Asian girl next to a black car holding a sign with his name on it. He started toward her, but she only seemed to realize who he was as he closed the last few feet.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Jack.”
“Mr. Masterson.” The girl spoke in a voice almost too faint to be audible. She gave him a deep bow, which left Jack feeling a little awkward. “My name is Ryoko. I’m here to escort you back to the mansion.”
“Ryoko,” said Jack. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise, sir,” said Ryoko.
He reached out to shake her hand, but she was already opening one of the car’s doors for him.
“Uh, thanks,” he said. “And by the way, you don’t have to call me sir, or Mr. Masterson, or anything like that. Just Jack is fine.”
“Of course, sir,” said Ryoko.
Jack blinked, unsure of whether she’d understood his point.
“You’re one of the mansion’s new maids, right?” he asked.
She was certainly dressed for the part. Ryoko wore a black blouse and skirt with white accents, a variation of the classic French maid outfit. She was pretty, with an oval face, petite figure, and black hair twisted into the neatest bun he’d ever seen. The maids had all seemed old and strict to him back when he’d been young, but maybe that had just been him viewing them through a child’s perspective.
“Yes, sir,” she said quietly.
She didn’t elaborate any further. Jack felt like he should say something more or ask her something else. Ryoko waited, politely holding the car door open for him, her gaze downcast and demure.
“Thanks,” he said. He climbed into the car’s backseat. He felt out of place as the door shut, and for a few silent seconds, he considered whether coming back to the island had been a good idea.
He’d belonged here once, but that wasn’t the case anymore. In fact, it’d been a long time since Jack had felt like he’d belonged anywhere. After his parents had died, he’d lived with his aunt and uncle, but they’d shipped him off to boarding school at the first convenient opportunity.
College had been a little better, but the few friends he’d made over the course of his four-year degree program had gone their own ways afterward. He’d been left with no choice other than to return to living with his extended family, whose hospitality
had been lukewarm, at best.
“Is your seatbelt fastened, sir?” asked Ryoko from the front seat.
“Yeah,” said Jack.
“Do you have any stops you’d like me to make on the way?” asked Ryoko. “Ms. White told me to tell you that the lawyer will be expecting you at the mansion.”
Ms. White. Katie. Jack had half expected her to be the one waiting next to the car with the sign. He’d certainly hoped for her to be there. Thinking about Katie made the impending tedium of dealing with his grandfather’s estate seem like a small price to pay.
Katie had been the daughter of Jack’s grandfather’s assistant, Tamera. She’d lived in the mansion with him and had been his closest childhood friend. They’d done everything together, and even shared a silly, juvenile romance as curious ten-year-olds.
Jack still remembered the way they’d proudly sworn that they’d marry each other as soon as they were grown up, and all the affection they’d shown to each other through hugs and kisses on the cheek. Those kisses. He felt ridiculous remembering them, of all things, given how hazy the rest of that period of his life was to him now.
The idea of seeing Katie again gave a sense of meaning to his return to the island. It gave him something to look forward to. He’d spent the past few months feeling aimless and anxious, with a useless degree and a dim outlook on the future.
When his aunt and uncle had asked him to make the trip out to Lestaron, he’d immediately started wondering about her and imagining their reunion. He’d thought about her so much in the time since he’d left. Knowing that he was only a few minutes away from seeing her again sent flutters of anticipation through him.
“Mr. Masterson?” said Ryoko.
Jack sat up a little straighter. He caught sight of his dopey, grinning expression in the rear-view mirror and forced himself to relax.
“No stops,” he said. “Head straight to the mansion.”
CHAPTER 2
Lesser Town was Lestaron Island’s sole population center, and rather appropriately named. Jack barely remembered the town itself, but as the car made its way down the central street, he was surprised by how small and localized it was.
None of the buildings were more than five stories high, except for the lighthouse visible next to the waterfront. The signs of the village store and tavern were wood-carved reliefs, dirtied and stained by years of open exposure to the harsh elements. A statue of the island’s discoverer, perched upon the bow of a ship, sat in the middle of a traffic circle in the center of the town. Jack had always thought it looked more like a scene of a man about to dive off a sinking ship to his death.
There were few cars, and most of the ones Jack did see were parked on the side of the street, or in the driveways of townhouses. He remembered playing in the road with Katie as children and feeling confused when the adults chastised them for it, given how infrequent the town’s traffic was.
Most of the tourist shops that Jack recalled from his childhood now had their windows boarded up. He wasn’t sure if it was just for the current season or indefinitely, but he still felt a surge of nostalgic claustrophobia as he considered it. Most of the island’s residents lived and died there. They were lucky if they took a few dozen trips across the ocean over the course of their lives. They lived a contained existence, and he could only wonder if they were truly happy with it.
Ryoko drove the car along a meandering road that ascended a hill as they continued toward the mansion. Lestaron Island was geographically lopsided, with its far eastern coast rising on a slant into jagged, looming cliffs facing out toward the ocean. Lesser Town had been constructed near the island’s west coast, not just for convenience, but because it was the main region of the island where there was a significant amount of level ground.
His grandfather’s estate had been built upon a large shelf of level land three quarters of the way up the hill. Jack spotted it in the distance as they approached and found that he was surprised that it still looked as large as he remembered. He knew that time had a way of distorting memories, but apparently his childhood wonder at the sprawling size of his grandfather’s estate had endured the years.
It had been a lively place, with his grandfather often hosting parties for anyone in town who cared to attend and throwing celebrations for every holiday that outdid anything Jack had experienced in the time since. It had also had a constant inflow of both visitors and residents. Jack and his parents had lived there, but so had Katie and her mother, half a dozen maids, a cook, a gardener, and a few other miscellaneous servants.
It was hard for Jack to resolve his memory of the mansion with what he saw as Ryoko pulled the car up to the wrought iron gate cordoning off the estate. The mansion’s paint was cracking visibly in places, giving an ominous edge to the muted pairing of grey and beige tones. The lawn was overgrown, and the cherry trees in the side yard had dropped their fruit onto the grass, making it look speckled with oversized droplets of blood.
A single crow was perched on the weather vane atop the mansion’s roof. It stared down at the car as the gate slowly opened for them, enticing Jack to look away after a couple of seconds. Ryoko drove up and around the drop-off loop that ran between one of the mansion’s now empty flower gardens and the front entrance, and then put the car in park.
“Do you have more errands to run, or something?” asked Jack.
Ryoko gave the smallest of shakes of her head.
“I’ll park the car in the garage and head in through the servant’s entrance, sir,” she said.
“You could just park it here and come inside with me,” said Jack.
Ryoko didn’t say anything, and after a couple of seconds, it felt too weird for Jack to press the point.
“Or not,” he said. “Anyway, thanks for picking me up.”
He got out of the car and shouldered his backpack. He walked slowly up the stairs to the door, almost feeling like he was moving through a dream. He was finally back, and he would get to see Katie again.
The door was unlocked, and Jack felt comfortable letting himself in. The mansion’s foyer was much as he remembered it, except emptier and quieter. The doors to the left and right led to the garage and the activity room. An archway staircase led up to the second floor where the bedrooms were, and the hallway underneath it went to the lounge, which was connected to the kitchen and the dining room. The servant’s rooms were off the kitchen, but he’d never spent much time there as a child.
He was still taking in the emotions of being back at the mansion after so long when Katie appeared at the top of the archway stairs. Seeing her almost took Jack’s breath away. She was the same little girl Jack remembered, his playmate, but now all grown up.
Katie had medium-length wavy brown hair, and she let it fall freely across her shoulders. She was cute rather than pretty, with hazel eyes and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. She had a petite figure, which surprised Jack, as he remembered her being almost as tall as he was. Her outfit consisted of a loose maroon blouse and tight jeans, showing off a body that was fit and attractive, if a little light on curves.
But most importantly, Katie wasn’t smiling. She walked down the stairs slowly, not looking at him as she approached. Jack took notice, but he didn’t care enough to wipe the dopey grin off his face.
“Katie,” he said. The feeling of her name on his tongue sent another rush of emotion through him.
“I go by Katherine now,” said Katie. “Or Kate.”
“Oh,” said Jack. “Right. Sorry.”
A silent moment passed. Katie had made her way to the bottom of the stairs, but she still kept one hand on the railing.
“I can’t believe it’s been twelve years,” he said. “It’s so weird being back here. How have you been?”
“Fine,” said Katie. “And you?”
Her tone was curt, with an edge of coldness to it. This wasn’t how Jack had imagined their reunion. She was supposed to smile and run over to hug him. He’d expected the two o
f them to immediately fall back into their old rhythm of teasing and affection.
“I’ve… been good,” said Jack.
He was almost afraid to say anything else. Katie had her arms folded now, and she was looking at the door, rather than him.
“Peter’s lawyer will be here any minute,” she said. “Why don’t you go and wait for her in the lounge? Assuming you remember where that is.”
“I remember,” said Jack. “It’s been a while, but I remember. And I remember you, too. And… how close we used to be.”
Katie finally looked at him directly. The weight of her gaze was enough to make the air feel heavy, along with Jack’s heart. Her expression was distant, guarded, and laced with a lifetime of experiences of which he knew nothing about.
“Good,” said Katie, ignoring his second comment. “I’ll send her along once she gets here.”
CHAPTER 3
The lounge was more or less as Jack remembered it, with a few small alterations. The furniture had been replaced, with black leather couches instead of the soft white ones he remembered, which his parents had always chastised him about staining.
The fireplace was currently unlit, and the large flat-screen TV next to it was turned off. Jack could still hear Katie’s faint footsteps in the other room. He sighed and collapsed into one of the couches, pulling out his phone to burn time until the lawyer showed up.
He listened to Katie opening the door and sharing a quiet conversation with someone a few minutes later. A woman with greying hair and thick spectacles entered the lounge, smiling as she spotted Jack, who stood to greet her.
“You must be Jack,” said the woman. “Hello. I’m Louise West.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jack smiled and shook her hand. He gestured to the couches, offering her a seat.
“You look so much like Peter did when he was younger,” said Louise. “I’ve heard so much about you from him.”
“Oh.” Jack frowned a little, wondering what his grandfather could have possibly told her, given how little they’d communicated. “You have?”