Killers quest a dark cro.., p.1

Killer's Quest: A Dark Crossroads Urban Fantasy, page 1

 

Killer's Quest: A Dark Crossroads Urban Fantasy
Select Voice:
Brian (uk)
Emma (uk)  
Amy (uk)
Eric (us)
Ivy (us)
Joey (us)
Salli (us)  
Justin (us)
Jennifer (us)  
Kimberly (us)  
Kendra (us)
Russell (au)
Nicole (au)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  
Killer's Quest: A Dark Crossroads Urban Fantasy


  Killer’s Quest

  Mark of Cain, Book 1

  Percival Constantine

  Contents

  Before You Start…

  Foreword

  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

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Get a free book!

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by Percival Constantine

  LOVE URBAN FANTASY?

  If you love urban fantasy with male leads, then I’m confident you’ll also love Devil’s Taunt and Other Stories, an exclusive novel that introduces you to the Luther Cross character, complete with a novella and the four original short stories that launched the Dark Crossroads universe.

  Just go to cross.percivalconstantine.com to get started.

  Foreword

  Welcome to Killer’s Quest, the first book in the Mark of Cain series. I won’t take up a lot of your time at the moment, particularly as you might be sampling this book and want to get to the first chapter. There are generally two types of people who will be reading this book. The first group are people who have read some of my existing books. If you’re in that group, then thank you so much for your support, and I hope you enjoy this new book just as much as you’ve enjoyed the ones in the past.

  If you’re in the second group, then you have no idea who I am and aren’t familiar with any of my other books. So I should let you know right from the start that this book is a spin-off from the six-book Luther Cross series which began with Devil’s Due. If you’ve never read any of those books, that’s okay. I’ve largely tried to keep this book as accessible as possible for new readers. However, there are some ideas and characters from that series that are referenced in this book. Cain himself had a pretty interesting arc in that series. So while you can read and enjoy this book without having ever read any part of the Luther Cross series, I think you’ll gain a new appreciation for this book if you also get around to reading those titles.

  Thanks so much for choosing Killer’s Quest. I hope you enjoy it!

  1

  The bear moved through the bare trees on the snow-dusted mountain, its own brown hairs coated with a light tuft of white. Dawn had just broken and the animal was out hunting for its morning prey.

  He wasn't the only one.

  From a cliff overlooking the bear's position stood a man dressed in furs, the snow shifting off the hairs on his coat and beard as he moved. He wore a hat with a wide brim to keep the sun off his eyes, which held an unusual green hue.

  He'd held many names in his unnaturally long life, but the moniker that stuck with him more often than not was the one of his birth...and of his curse.

  Cain.

  If one believed the legends, he was the world's first murderer. In a fit of jealousy, Cain found the heaviest rock he could lift and used it to bash in his brother's skull. He was cursed by God to be a fugitive for eternity, branded with a mark to identify him to all others.

  The legend wasn't quite accurate, though at the time Cain himself didn't even know that. The being he and his brother Abel thought was God was actually just an angel manipulating the pair. It wasn't until centuries later that Cain learned there was no true god, at least none who had ever made its presence known to humanity.

  Cain had left his home and in the time since, he'd drifted between many different roles and names. During several instances, he embraced his curse, reveling in murder and mayhem, spilling blood wherever he could, and taking whatever he desired.

  But each time Cain traveled down that path, he eventually found it to be a dead end. And that would inevitably lead him to a period of self-exile.

  Nothing seemed to change much for him. He'd found community a few times in his life, but it always ended with him leaving. Until recently, he'd accompanied a young witch on her adventures. But as usual, he soon felt himself growing restless and desiring solitude.

  There was something else that had gnawed at him. Whenever Cain became too comfortable, the Mark began to itch. It was more than just a simple brand—it had a kind of sentience of its own and a power it held over the immortal.

  That was why Cain found himself spying on the bear on this particular morning. He had no need for food--there was more than enough stored at his cabin. Nor was he hunting the bear for sport--Cain never found the killing of any creature to be particularly enjoyable.

  He was here because the Mark thirsted.

  Cain had been keeping note of this particular bear's movements for the past month, knowing the time would come soon when the Mark would demand an offering. That time had arrived.

  He stuck low to the ground, keeping very still and not making a single noise. Cain's ethereal green eyes stayed glued to the bear's movements.

  The beast sniffed around the area, clearly aware of something. He raised his head and let out a roar as a signal to anyone that he wasn't to be trifled with. Cain didn't react to the warning, not even a flinch.

  The bear raised his leg to relieve himself and then moved down the mountain. Cain jumped from the cliff to a sturdy tree branch and grabbed it with his hands. He swung a few times and released, flying to another tree. His grip almost faltered, but he held tightly.

  The tree rustled in response to the added weight and the bear started his attention towards the noise. He gazed at the tree, watching until its slight back-and-forth movement subsided. Nothing of note, it seemed, and so the bear turned away and continued on.

  Cain sighed in annoyance. Stupid, over-exuberant moron, he cursed himself. He climbed onto the limb and looked across at the next tree, then down at the bear, who moved gingerly down the mountain. Time was running low and he would have to act quick if he was going to accomplish anything this morning.

  The immortal jumped to the next tree, his boots touching the limb and his arm embracing the trunk to keep from falling. Far less noise this time and the bear hadn't even noticed.

  Close enough now. Ready for the strike. Cain's hand went beneath his furs and wrapped around a wooden hilt. He drew the machete from its sheath on his belt, the morning sunlight reflecting off its stainless surface.

  He jumped, the machete gripped in two hands, its blades pointed at the brown-furred beast below. The machete cleanly slid between the bear's shoulder blades, and the animal's cry of pain shook the branches.

  The bear stood on his hind legs and threw Cain off, the machete still lodged in his back. Cain struck the ground on his back and rolled a few times. He stopped and propped himself up on his elbows, quickly melting snow and dead leaves clinging to his coat. His hat had been lost during the fall, displaying his pale, shaved head.

  Cain stood, the bear just a few paces away from him. The animal's gold-tinted eyes narrowed, awakened with a fiery rage. He roared, but this time it wasn't in pain--it was a cry of anger.

  The immortal was unfazed. Cain had gone up against far deadlier creatures than this. The bear wasn't a threat to him--he was just a morning workout.

  The bear rose up and swung his arms out to emphasize his size. He lumbered at Cain, bringing his right arm down first. Thick claws, nearly half a foot in length, threatened to tear open Cain's chest.

  Cain grabbed the arm, holding the claws at bay. The bear swung with his left arm, but Cain ducked around to the right, leaving the arm in the spot he just stood. The animal's claws tore into his own flesh, eliciting another loud roar.

  The Mark provided Cain with more than just immortality--it also gifted him with uncanny strength far greater than even his large frame suggested. Cain had never tested the limits of his power, but it was certainly enough to fistfight a bear.

  Cain grabbed a tuft of the animal's fur and pulled himself up. The fingers of his free hand curled into a fist and he punched the bear in the side of the face. The sound of superhuman knuckles striking hard bone sent a loud noise reverberating through the forest.

  The bear reeled, clearly stunned by just how powerful his opponent was. This was an intelligent animal and even he knew when he was in a tough fight. The bear rolled onto his legs and attempted to try to flee the scene.

  But Cain wasn't finished. He gave chase, easily catching up to the bear and jumping on his back. The machete was still lodged between the bear's shoulder blades. Cain gripped it tightly and pulled it free from the mass of muscle and fur. Blood spurted out and the bear winced and flailed.

  Machete in one hand, Cain grabbed the animal's fur with the other and dug his heels into the bear's hide, holding to the beast. His emerald eyes burned with murderous intent and Cain slashed the bear's arm, disabling one of his weapons.

  He rolled off the bear, standing face-to-face with his enemy. The bear rose on his hind legs again and that provided Cain with the opening he needed. He moved closer t

o the bear and thrust the machete up, right into the beast's throat. The bear tried to roar, but his voice was cut off and blood instead dribbled past his razor-sharp teeth.

  Cain pulled the machete out and the bear collapsed at his feet. The immortal stood over the beast and stabbed him again to ensure death. And then he stabbed again. And again.

  The strikes continued raining down on the bear's corpse. Cain's face was a mask of homicidal fury that bordered on glee. Life had long left the bear, but the blows continued. For Cain, he saw nothing but white-hot rage, completely lost in the moment. Everything was just a blur of red, the screams of the past echoing in Cain's mind.

  And then, it just stopped.

  Cain dropped to his knees in the puddle of gore that he'd turned the bear into. Blood dripped from his machete and stained his furs and face. The moment was gone and he felt a tingle come from the Mark. It was satiated, at least for now.

  Once Cain had pulled himself out of his state, he found his hat and began his trek back through the forest to his home. But he paused and glanced around the area. He felt a distinct impression that he wasn't completely alone here. Cain waited, watching for some sign of other activity in the forest.

  Nothing came. Though Cain wasn't completely satisfied with what his senses were telling him, he accepted it and continued on his path.

  Cain's suspicions were more than simple paranoia--he was being watched. Once he'd departed, one of the trees seemed to come to life. Something split off from the rest of the tree, stepping into the forest. It was a man of sorts, or at least it had the appearance of one. Tall, broad, and with pale skin that held a wooden texture, with hair like that of leaves. His eyes were round and dark with a reflective surface.

  The strange being walked over to the remains of the bear and knelt down by the side of the corpse. He laid a hand on the bear's lifeless head, long, branch-like fingers gently touching it. The plant-like man closed his eyes sensing the lack of life within the bear. It was no surprise, of course, but there was still a feeling of a kind of loss in the creature's passing.

  There was a rustle of leaves, but the tree-man wasn't concerned. He soon felt a lithe hand fall on his shoulder.

  "You okay, Dex?" asked a soft voice.

  The being called Dex raised his hand and touched the soft, human fingers on his shoulder. He sighed and stared at the bear's remains.

  "He did nothing. He was no danger. Why?"

  The young woman with her hand on Dex's shoulder looked down at her friend. "It's the curse he's walked with all his long life. It's why he's out here on his own."

  "Why are we here, Maya?" asked Dex.

  "You know why," she replied. "Cain is too dangerous to be left unattended to. Even after all these centuries, no one has been willing to address his situation. We're the ones who are going to change that, once and for all. Before he causes any further damage."

  2

  There is another world in society, one populated by beings and creatures long thought to be the products of myths and legends. Demons, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, fae, demigods, and all manner of supernaturals exist. Most humans are unaware of them, even when they walk right past them on the street. When they move among the humans, they do so in secret, hiding their true nature.

  The Void provides them a place where they can let their hair down and slip free of the mask of humanity they must usually hide behind. It's a place of sorts, but not in any fixed location. The Void is a full-service bar and restaurant, located in a pocket dimension. Entry points for it are located all across the Earth and also in other dimensions.

  Cain couldn't remember when he first came to this place, possibly about a century ago or more. There were many times in his life when he avoided it completely. But since he'd embarked on his own once more almost a year ago, he'd found himself increasingly coming to The Void. If he truly thought about the reason why, it was unlikely he'd come up with a satisfactory answer.

  Finding an entryway to The Void required either an ability to sense magical energy and the knowledge of how to activate portals or procurement of an item to temporarily grant that power--what many have come to call a passport. Cain--like many of the supernaturals--had the former and so had no need of the latter.

  Cain's name and reputation were the stuff of legend and so when he entered, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his face, conversations hushed. The Void had a kind of rustic, natural quality to it. The walls were made from rough stone without any concern for smooth cuts and the furniture from unvarnished wood. It was hard to specify exactly how big the place was because it seemed to have no limit to the capacity. Whenever The Void seemed in danger of overcrowding, patrons would suddenly notice a new, unoccupied part of the bar, as if it had just been wished into existence.

  He could feel the eyes on him as he walked through the bar, moving past the different kinds of beings gathered. Cain didn't care--let them speak in their hushed whispers all they wanted and cast their furtive glances. He just wanted to find a quiet corner and find one he did.

  There was a small booth situated in a corner of the main hall and Cain slid onto the bench. He took his hat off and set it on the table in front of him. Almost as soon as Cain got situated, there was a sparkle in front of him and a small person appeared, about the size of a hand, hovering on small, gossamer wings right in front of Cain's face. They resembled a child with an androgynous appearance. Pixies were usually employed here as waiters because of how easy it was for them to move around.

  "Hi there, big guy." Their voice was high-pitched and friendly. "What can I get you?"

  "Beer," was Cain's sole reply.

  "Chatty tonight, huh?"

  Cain glared at the pixie. "Do I look to be in a conversational mood, Kelryn?"

  The pixie frowned and mumbled something under their breath. "Suit yourself, grump. One beer, comin' up."

  Kelryn flitted away with sparkles in their wake. Moments later, a tall, chilled mug filled to the brim with foamed beer materialized on Cain's table. He picked up the glass and took a generous sip of the drink.

  Cain leaned back against the bench, allowing the conversations to fade into white noise. By the time he'd finished his drink, he was about to summon Kelryn for a refill, but a shadow fell over him instead.

  "You're in a mood."

  Cain glanced up and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man towering over him. He was strong and well-built and had a long, silver beard styled in a single braid. The long hair on his head was similarly styled and he sat across from Cain.

  "Not in the mood for company, Qarhan."

  "That, I can see."

  Qarhan was an old wizard who'd been retired for centuries. Many thought him the owner of The Void, but he insisted he was just a manager. Whenever asked about the true owner, Qarhan would just shrug and smile.

  "There's something...off about your aura tonight," said Qarhan. "How's the Mark?"

  Cain slammed the empty mug on the table. Qarhan sighed and waved his fingers in an upward motion. The glass refilled itself and Cain took another long swig of beer.

  "What's up with you lately? Ever since you started coming back here, you've been in a funk. Though today seems even worse than usual."

  "What part of 'not in the mood for company' was too difficult for you to understand?"

  Qarhan raised his hands in a defensive posture. "Fair does. Just don't cause any ruckus tonight, okay?"

  "Whatever would give you the idea that I'm here to start some trouble?"

  Qarhan scoffed. "Is that rhetorical?"

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Add Fast Bookmark
Load Fast Bookmark
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Scroll Up
Turn Navi On
Scroll
Turn Navi On
183