Halo Breaker, page 1
Halo Breaker
Feathers and Fire Book 10
Shayne Silvers
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Shayne Silvers
Halo Breaker
Feathers and Fire Book 10
A TempleVerse Series
© 2021, Shayne Silvers / Argento Publishing, LLC
info@shaynesilvers.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS SCREAMED…
War is coming to the City of Fountains.
The Four Legendary Creatures are free, the Seven Sins are running wild, the vampires are getting thirsty, and the Vatican is ready to enter the front lines.
And Callie Penrose is at the heart of it all. The Horsewoman of Despair flicked the first domino, and the consequences are echoing throughout the various halls of power in all corners of the world. As the streets of Kansas City threaten to become raging rivers of blood, one of those closest to Callie is kidnapped, and she is forced to choose between her heart and the people who depend on her to keep them safe.
To value duty over love.
As the pillars of Heaven begin to crumble, it becomes increasingly obvious that all these events are coordinated rather than coincidental. Callie may have flicked that first domino, but how much can her heart handle when she learns that some of her closest friends set all the dominos up in the first place.
Now is the time when success truly depends on how Lucky Callie can be, and whether she can determine which friends have been paid thirty pieces of silver to stab her in the back. Angels shall weep, and demons shall laugh.
Humanity will burn and gods shall die in the wake of a Horsewoman betrayed.
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1
Master Dracula faced the crowd of silent, bloodthirsty monsters surrounding her on all sides. Then she uncapped the permanent marker in her hand and drew a dick on the decapitated Archdemon’s forehead. Thankfully, it had only been a few hours since I had removed it, so it was particularly fresh.
The crowd exploded with laughter and screams, roars and cheers, hurling wreaths of white and red roses into the arena of the Coliseum. It was Fight Night and I had requested the first bout.
I calmly sat down in the center of the Coliseum as Xylo scooped up Envy’s severed head from my arms, winked at me with his smoking black eyes, and then he said, “Ryuu’s strike teams are in place.”
I nodded subtly, feeling a burden lifted from my shoulders. “Let’s hope for the best,” I told him. If all went well, Ryuu, Samael, and Lilith would secretly raid the nephilim hideouts in Kansas City and take them hostage so I could increase my nephilim army. My job was to keep everyone here distracted while they did it. Who knew how many spies were lurking in the stands? Minions of the other Sins or even Archangels. Only a handful of my trusted allies knew about Ryuu’s strike teams so no one could blab. “Is Sanguina still gone?” I asked him, hoping I hid my concern.
Xylo nodded uneasily. “Yes.” She had left earlier today and I could not sense where she’d gone or why. Xylo took my silence as the end of our conversation, turned, and jogged away with Envy’s head under his arm like it was a football. I pushed back my concerns for Sanguina to deal with later. She would return.
I closed my eyes and formed a black void of nothingness in my mind, muting the sounds around me, squashing the scents pervading my nostrils, and even the gentle breeze kissing my skin. The pains of Envy kidnapping Claire and then murdering Solomon and Last Breath burned freshly in my heart, but I managed to shove all those thoughts, emotions, and desires for vengeance into my black void of focus. I watched them burn. Within seconds, nothing else existed in the void except a gleaming white rose and a pair of lazily flapping angel wings.
I was finally at peace. I calmly began my mantra, committing myself to what would come next while keeping my mind muted and silent. A singularity in a mad, bloodthirsty realm of monsters.
A singularity is the state or condition of being singular. Impossibly unique.
Yet some believe that a singularity is also the point at which a function takes an infinite value, especially in space-time when matter is infinitely dense—like the center of a black hole.
The White Rose grew out from the center of a field of dust, ash, blood, bones, and rock.
It was the only flower to be seen in this desolate land and it should have never survived such an inhospitable environment. Yet it flourished.
No.
She flourished. Radiant. Chilling. Riveting.
She was beautiful and she was death.
Her barbed thorns were silver points of dread.
Her once-white petals were now coated with dried blood from killing Envy, yet there was a haunting beauty to her luminescence. A finality to the singularity.
There were no water and nutrients to hydrate and feed this rose, but there were oceans of blood buried deep within the ground. The pulverized bones and long-rotted remains of hundreds upon hundreds of dead warriors from centuries of death and murder and execution provided every nutrient needed to sustain this lone flower.
The circle of death had given birth to a rose of life.
There was no sunlight, but this exotic flower needed only the icy beams of moonlight to grow.
Serenity rippled through my body as I slowly breathed in through my nose, seated in the center of the Coliseum’s fighting arena. I knew the Minotaur was watching me, but my eyes were closed. Still, I could sense his anxiety and fear. He had wanted to wait to test out the newest Dueling Grounds—a place where creatures could fight to the death without the risk of actually dying. I had disagreed. Here we were.
The thought was distant and abstract to me in my current state.
I waited.
The stadium seats of the Coliseum were full of all manner of monsters: storybook nightmares who had chosen to be refugees at Castle Dracula, vampires and members of the Sanguine Council, shifters of all flavors—bears, wolves, jaguars, coyotes, rhinos, gorillas, and even a chimera—and my newly acquired nephilim vampires. Alucard had even mentioned some guests from St. Louis, but I hadn’t pressed him for details.
Thousands of Freaks filled the stadium, holding their breaths in a pregnant hush as they stared down at the White Rose seeming to grow out of the dusty ground. They knew not why I had summoned them here yet they had obeyed without question.
King Solomon—my legendary ancestor—and Last Breath were dead at Envy’s hands mere hours ago.
She was now dead by my hands, bringing the number of surviving Seven Deadly Sins to five: Wrath, Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, and Lust. Envy’s halo was perched in my lap where everyone could see it and I gripped the Spear of Destiny in one hand, shoving the butt of the staff into the dirt with the point sticking straight up into the air.
I’d single-handedly executed her, startling exactly everyone because it shouldn’t have been possible.
Halo Breaker…
The thought drifted across the hills and valleys of my mind like a gentle breeze, doing little more than causing the grassy fields to sway and bend in a rolling wave.
Claire had been abducted by Envy and was either dead or a prisoner.
And now, the newest Master Dracula had some lessons to teach—examples to set for her people.
The fact that I had not taken the time to wash off the blood covering my face, hair, and clothes had generated a pall of anxiety, fear, and anticipation to hang over the Coliseum.
I had just declared war on the Vatican, held a brief war council, and negotiated with Hermes for the Coliseum to be part of the Minotaur’s Dueling Grounds franchise so my warriors could fight to the death without actually dying. The ultimate virtual reality experience in some respects.
And my first order of business had been to summon everyone to the Coliseum for them to watch their dread lord, Master Dracula, battle an unknown foe.
I opened my eyes and heard an immediate intake of breath from the thousands of monsters watching me. I ignored them, focusing instead on the entrance to the arena—where the fighters entered. I began counting down in my mind. Five…four…three…two…one.
The gate opened to reveal three werebears. A massive Kodiak grizzly bear stood on all fours, staring directly at me. Behind him loomed two larger bears—Armor, the alpha of the Kansas City Cave, and a lieutenant I couldn’t name. They looked resigned yet I could see the unspoken questions in their eyes. They had been told to bring the Kodiak here and had not been given an
Yet they had obeyed Master Dracula without question.
They growled as they ushered their prisoner forward with their snouts. The Kodiak curled his lips reflexively but he obeyed his alpha, Armor, and padded towards me in the center of the ring. His ears twitched and swiveled, taking note of the thousands of spectators, but his eyes stayed fixed on me.
I remained seated, waiting for him to reach me.
Asterion, the Minotaur, gestured at the other two bears, motioning them to join him at the side of the arena, well out of harm’s way. They grudgingly obeyed, staring at me with wary expressions on their furry faces.
I stared at the massive Kodiak as he approached.
I could see the rage in his eyes.
The fear.
The resignation.
The shame.
To mask those, he tried to make his rage burn hotter, but he failed. I could see the truth.
And I was not satisfied with it.
2
He came to a stop before me and stared at me in silence. I stared back, my face blank.
The hush of the crowd was physically palpable as they collectively held their breaths, not knowing what this was about or why I had apparently singled out one of my staunchest allies for a display of humility. The first such display for the newly minted terms of the Coliseum.
No one could die here—as long as it worked properly.
I could imagine the thoughts of the crowd. Why had the White Rose summoned this opponent specifically? If she wanted to execute him, she could have done so at the Castle or anywhere else. She purposely invited this man to make an example that he would not be able to hide from in death. He would not be a martyr.
He would be an example.
I scooped up the black halo from my lap, ignoring the vibrations of darkness emanating from it. The foul whispers I could almost just make out in my mind. Was I merely imagining those? Projecting them since I knew how evil the previous wearer had been?
Or…were those dark whispers my own? My own rage at the deaths of Solomon and Last Breath.
Or my own fury at Claire’s possible death or captivity.
“Kenai,” I said, rising to my feet. The Spear of Destiny crackled in my grip but I did not lift it from the dirt. Claire’s lover studied me warily and gave the faintest of nods. He towered over me, at least ten feet tall and ten times my weight. “You failed her. Claire Stone is dead or being tortured in a dark prison we cannot locate.”
His lip curled back at the mention of his lover’s name. “You think I do not know that, Master Dracula?” he rasped hoarsely, his muscles visibly shaking. His fur ruffled in the faint breeze.
“I need to remind you until I am satisfied that your shame is burned into your bones,” I snarled, blinking slowly. Part of me hated my words, knowing they applied to me just as equally as they applied to Kenai.
More shame applied to me than him, to be honest.
But I was no longer Callie Penrose, the woman. The wizard. The White Rose assassin.
I was Master Dracula, a symbol, and my people needed to see violence, blood, power, and precedent. They needed to know where I stood when one of my people failed. They needed to fear me so much that they never dared failing me in the future. The upcoming war against the Vatican, Heaven, and Hell would demand everything from them, and I knew the Sins were excellent at offering enticing temptations.
I needed to murder those errant hopes so that my people did not succumb to the tantalizing prospects of betrayal if the Sins came knocking at our doors. When they came knocking.
I shut down sudden thoughts of Ryuu and his disapproving frown. He had not agreed with my decision. He did agree that Kenai needed to be reprimanded, but he had strongly disagreed about the public spectacle with everyone at Castle Dracula watching it happen. That was why I had chosen to send him on the nephilim mission. I didn’t need his judgy eyes. He was not a flamboyant man. Ryuu knew how to manage a small, secretive army of killers. But I was Master Dracula, and my monsters needed spectacle, flair, and a firm hand. Quietly punishing Kenai would be seen as a weakness. I hated it but I knew it was true.
I walked a thin line in my new position. A dangerous cliff where one misstep either way could result in the hordes of Dracula possibly deciding to set out on their own rather than rallying behind me. I had all the vampires in the world now here at Castle Dracula, and many of them had never seen me before. I needed to show them fear and humility. Show them that the stories they had heard about me were true.
I needed to be relentless and inspire fear in their hearts. That was the only thing holding my ragtag army together for now. Later, in small steps and actions, I could begin to teach them a better way.
But that was not for today. They would rebel against me if they saw me as soft. Because softness resulted in death in their history. Hate it or love it, that was the way things were for them. Their previous masters had been monsters to fear, so that was the only thing they respected. I would teach them better, but not today.
Kenai would become the symbol for failure and, hopefully, redemption—although that seemed unlikely. We had exactly zero leads on Claire’s location.
None.
Nada.
Zip.
I gripped Envy’s halo in my fist and closed my eyes. It suddenly let out an ear-splitting shriek like nails on a chalkboard and Kenai recoiled, snarling. I opened my eyes and my palm to see a small, dark obsidian ring in my hand. I slipped it on over my finger, warding myself from its whispers. Then I looked back up at Kenai. I let the Spear of Destiny wink out, leaving me barehanded. My chest rose and fell as rage consumed me, causing my vision to narrow and zero in on Kenai so that he was the only thing I saw.
The crowd disappeared in my mind. Asterion and the two bears on the sidelines faded to vague silhouettes. I needed this to be a show. Epic. I needed to entertain. Anything else simply wouldn’t do.
It was showtime.
“I will not fight you, White Rose—”
I zipped forward in a blur and punched him in the ribs. His bulk swallowed my hand but not before sinking deeply enough to hammer his ribs and elicit a sharp cracking sound. He roared in pain and lazily swiped at me to get me to back off. I rolled to the side, dodging his blow.
I needed him to fight back rather than simply sitting there as I wailed on him.
“I wonder what Claire is doing right now?” I mused in a taunting tone. “I wonder who she is thinking about. Maybe she’s waiting for you to come save her.” Kenai roared, spittle flying as he flexed his paws open and closed, but he still made no move to attack. “I wonder how many bones Envy broke. Maybe she used knives. Small ones, so as not to kill her too quickly.” Kenai was panting in agony, digging his claws into the earth. He punched the ground and his eyes burned with rage. “Maybe they used fire,” I taunted, hating myself more than I ever had before.
Yet at the same time, my words stoked my own fire. I hated myself for failing Claire.
I hated Kenai for failing Claire.
I do not know who I hated more, but the scales seemed to tip more heavily my way. So, my taunting took on a rawer tone, one that hoped to assuage me of my shame and shovel it all onto Kenai. To bury him alive with my own guilt.
3
I darted forward and kicked him in the thigh, but he took it like a fucking bear, of course, chuffing in annoyance but still not attacking. I snarled, calling up my nephilim claws, and stabbed them deep into the meat of his thigh—once, twice, three times before he howled in rage and slammed his paws down at me.
I lifted my hands in a cross-block over my head and laughed as my claws pierced his paws. He yowled and stumbled back a step, shaking his head violently.
“COME ON, KENAI!” I screamed. “I know you blame me as much as I blame you!”
“YES!” he shouted. “You abandoned her!”
I nodded eagerly, crouching with my claws out. “Yes! I did abandon her, and I hate myself for it! I want to feel that pain. Embrace it. Give it to me, Kenai!” The crowd roared and screamed. Gargoyles swooped through the sky, shaking their weapons excitedly. “Let it out, Kenai! Show me your pain! Neither of us can die here! Let. It. OUT!”
