Part 1 (1/2)
Darkness Chosen.
Into the Shadow.
Dodd, Christina.
For Susan Sizemorea”.
You let me borrow
your amazing brain for plotting.
You bless me with your wit and humor, Most of all, youave given me years (and years and years) of true friends.h.i.+p.
Thatas the best gift of all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
Writing a book like Into the Shadow is, as always, a joy and a challenge. Thank you to my editor, Kara Cesare, for her questions, comments, and enthusiasm. Thanks to Lindsay Nouis for all she does for me. Thank you to Kara Welsh and Claire Zion for their support for the Darkness Chosen series. Finally, a profound thank-you to Anthony Ramondo and his team in the art department for this fabulous cover.
DARKNESS CHOSEN FAMILY TREE.
Prologue.
On the border between Tibet and Nepal.
”Yeare not normal.”
”You know, Magnus, when you get drunk, that brogue of yours gets so thick I can barely understand you.” Warlordas voice was as soft and smootha”and as deadlya”as the single-malt Scotch theyad stolen.
”Ye understand me verra well.” Magnus knew he would never have had the guts to make comments about Warlord, no matter how true, if it werenat b.l.o.o.d.y d.a.m.ned dark out here in the middle of the Himalayas in the middle of nowhere, and if he hadnat imbibed a wee bit oa that fine whiskya”that is to say, most of a bottle all to himself. And if he werenat second in command of the mercenary troop, with a responsibility to point out the trouble a-brewing. ”Yeare not normal, and the men here, they know it. They whisper that yeare a werewolf. ”
”Donat be ridiculous.” Warlord sat high above the camp, silhouetted against the night sky, his arm crooked around his knee, his rifle in his hand.
”Thatas what I said, too. Because Iam a Scotsman. I know better. Thereas no such thing as werewolves.” Magnus nodded wisely, and broke the seal on the second bottle. ”Thereas things much worse than that. Do ye know why I know?”
Warlord said nothing.
He never said a word more than necessary. He was never kind. He was never friendly. He kept his secrets, and he was the meanest son of a b.i.t.c.h in a fight Magnus had ever seen. Yet while the lads were celebrating their latest plunder, he took the watch on the highest spot overlooking their hideout. For a man who excelled at stealing from rich tourists and government officials, and never caviled at killing when the occasion called for it, he was b.l.o.o.d.y decent.
Magnus continued, ”I grew up on the bleakest of the Outer Hebrides islands, far to the north, where the b.l.o.o.d.y wind blows all the time, not a plant dares grow, and the old tales are repeated and repeated through the long winter nights.”
”Sounds like a good place to be from.” Warlord took the bottle from Magnusas fist and tipped it down his throat.
”Aye, that it is.” Magnus watched his leader. ”Ye dunna usually drink.”
”If weare going to reminisce, I could use something to blunt the pain.” Warlord was a dark blot against the starsa”an unnaturally dark blot.
In the morning, Magnus knew, head be sorry for nattering on like this. Like every man up here, head been scarred by cruelty and betrayal, the only d.a.m.ned thing he excelled at was fighting, and if he was ever caught by any government in the world, head be hangeda”or worse.
But whisky made Magnus gregarious, and he trusted Warlorda”Warlord made the rules, and he was ruthless in enforcing them, but he was G.o.dd.a.m.ned b.l.o.o.d.y fair.
”Do ye miss yer home, then?” he asked.
”I donat think about it.”
”Yeare right. Whatas the point? We canna go back. Theyall not want us. Not with so much blood on our hands.”
”No.”
”But today we washed some of the blood away.”
Warlord lifted his hand and looked at it. ”Bloodstains last forever.”
”How do ye know that?”
”My father made that quite clear. Once you take a deliberate step into evil, youare marked for life and destined for h.e.l.l.”
”Aye, my father said the same stuff, right before he took off his belt and whaled on me.” Magnus drooped, then perked up again. ”Today those Buddhist monks were grateful, though. They showered us with blessings. Thatas gotta help. Isnat that why you freed them?”
”No. I freed them because I hate bullies, and those Chinese soldiers are a.s.sholes who think itas funny to use holy men for target practice.” Warlordas voice vibrated with rage.
”You do have a thing about that. But this time we got paid in more than blessings.” For the raid had been profitable, bagging them firearms, ammunition, and a Chinese general who had surrendered his liquor and his gold to keep the photographs of his liaison with the local Communist chairmanas young son secret.
Magnus grinned up and toward the east, where a glow on the horizon marked the rising moon. ”You and mea”weave wh.o.r.ed together. Weave fought together. And I still dunna understand how ye always seem to know where the money is hidden and the liquor is stored and the scandals are richest.”
”Itas a gift.”
Magnus shook his finger at him. ”Dunna distract me with yer blather! How did ye come to be such a creature?”
”The same way you did. I killed a man, ran away, and ended up here.” Warlord lifted the bottle and toasted the snowcapped peaks that dominated their lives. ”Here, where the only law is what I make, and I donat have to beg forgiveness from anybody.”
”Thatas not what I mean, and ye know it. Yeave got a bad way about ye. The shadow ye cast is too black. When yeare angry, you sort of”a”Magnus made a wiggling motion with his fingersa””s.h.i.+mmer around the edges. Ye have a way of appearing out of nowhere, without a sound, and ye know things yeave got no business knowing, like that the Chinese general was b.u.g.g.e.ring that lad. The men swear yeare not human.”
”Why would they say that?”
”Because of yer eyes . . .” Magnus s.h.i.+vered.
”Whatas wrong with my eyes?” Warlord had that smooth, deadly tone in his voice again.
”Have ye looked in the mirror lately? b.l.o.o.d.y spooky, they are. Thatas why the men have followed ye. But now thereas grumblings. ” Magnus braced himself for a wee bit of unpleasantness.
”Why would there be grumblings?” Warlord asked with deceptive smoothness.