Cloak & Ghost: Blood Ring Read online

  CLOAK & GHOST: BLOOD RING

  Jonathan Moeller

  ***

  Description

  Caina Amalas meets Nadia Moran in this epic crossover novel from USA Today bestselling author Jonathan Moeller!

  My name is Nadia, and I'm a shadow agent of the High Queen of the Elves.

  When the High Queen sends me to take down a corrupt Congressman, it should be an easy job.

  Except someone else is coming after the Congressman.

  And Caina Amalas might be a powerful ally or a deadly enemy...

  ***

  Cloak & Ghost: Blood Ring

  Copyright 2018 by Jonathan Moeller.

  Smashwords Edition.

  Cover image copyright NeoStock RF License : STANDARD | Print & Web | Unlimited Digital Impressions, up to 250,000 Prints neostock-s016-natalia-urban-fantasy-248 - Original file (2911x4812 pixels) & NeoStock RF License : STANDARD | Print & Web | Unlimited Digital Impressions, up to 250,000 Prints neostock-s010-liepa-medieval-assassin-57 - Original file (2174x4972 pixels) & © Brett Critchley | Dreamstime.com.

  Ebook edition published August 2018.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law.

  ***

  Author’s Note

  This novel takes place immediately after CLOAK GAMES: MAGE FALL. (In other words, you should probably read CLOAK GAMES: MAGE FALL first.)

  Over the last few years, people have asked me to write a crossover where Nadia Moran meets Caina Amalas.

  I’ve always resisted doing it because I’ve never really cared for crossovers. Also, I couldn’t figure out a way to write a crossover book that would make sense. Like, does Caina fall through a magic portal or a wormhole or something and land in Nadia’s world? A setup like that always seems contrived and forced.

  Then I thought about Sherlock Holmes.

  The original Holmes stories were set in the 1880s and the 1890s of London (with occasional jaunts into the British countryside), but other writers since have set Holmes stories at different times and places. The Basil Rathbone movies about Holmes, for instance, were set in the 1940s. Recently the BBC made a series about a tech-savvy Sherlock Holmes who lived in 21st century London and dealt with modern crimes like cyber heists and terrorism. There’s a version of Sherlock Holmes who solves mysteries in the 22nd century, and another who has battled the cosmic monsters of HP Lovecraft’s mythos.

  Thinking along those lines, what if Caina was born and grew up and lived in Nadia’s world? What if Nadia met a version of Caina who lived on Earth?

  What would happen when the two of them met?

  Let’s find out now.

  Enjoy the story!

  ***

  Chapter 1: A Royal Request

  The High Queen summoned me at two in the morning on August 31st.

  I was sleeping on the couch in my husband’s condo.

  Riordan had a condo in Manhattan, and it was nice. Like, seriously nice. I had known vaguely that Riordan had money, but I hadn’t realized how much money. He had a corner condo on the top floor of an expensive building in midtown Manhattan, the kind of place that it takes mid-six figures to buy.

  Apparently, he had lived here for years. It had four bedrooms, one of which had been converted into an armory and a workshop and another into a well-equipped gym. The condo also featured a large living room and dining room, and even a balcony where you could stand and watch the lights of the cars on the surface streets far below. Despite the expensive condo, the furniture wasn’t pretentious – lots of couches with big, soft cushions. My husband liked to read, and so he had bookshelves lining the walls of the living room. The bedroom had a king-sized bed, the largest bed I had personally ever slept in, and I had also learned that a king-sized bed was extremely comfortable for certain other marital activities.

  But it felt strange to sleep in that huge bed without Riordan, so I was sleeping on the couch by myself.

  Riordan was out of town for business. He was a member of the Family of the Shadow Hunters, the secret society dedicated to hunting down and eliminating creatures from the Shadowlands that attacked Earth (along with the men and women who trafficked with such creatures). He had gone to the UK to help deal with a pack of wraithwolves that had been terrorizing the Greater Manchester area. I would have gone with him. I wanted to go with him, and he would have liked me to come.

  And not just from the pleasure of my company. I had a bit of experience fighting wraithwolves. A century and a half or so.

  The problem was that I didn’t actually have a passport yet.

  In the bad old days when I worked for Morvilind, that wouldn’t have stopped me. I would have used the Mask spell to disguise myself or forged the necessary documents under a false identity. But I was legitimate now, sort of. The High Queen had given me a retroactive pardon for every illegal thing I had done before the attack on New York, and I was one of her shadow agents now. (I was entirely certain Tarlia had more than one shadow agent.) So that meant I had to try to do things legally when possible so I didn’t embarrass my boss. I had filled out the necessary forms at both the post office and a Homeland Security branch office, had my picture taken and a DNA scan done, and now I needed to wait four to eight weeks for the passport documentation to arrive.

  The next time Riordan went to the UK on business for the Shadow Hunters, I would come with him.

  For now, I was on my own until he returned. And that meant I had his condo in New York to myself. Complete with that huge bed, which felt empty and cold without him, so I had retreated to the couch.

  I turned over, trying to get comfortable as I adjusted the blankets. I was little embarrassed at myself. God, was I really going to be one of those women who had a difficult time sleeping when her husband was away?

  Guess so.

  I drifted to sleep around 11 PM, and I got a good three hours or so until I woke up. What woke me up was a nightmare. I was back in the twisted simulacrum of a small town that had filled the Eternity Crucible, fighting as wraithwolves closed around me. I cast spells of fire and lightning and ice, killing them by the dozens, but still they kept coming. I killed and killed, but at last, they piled onto me, their weight driving me to the ground, fangs and claws sinking into my flesh…

  I awoke and felt the weight of the wraithwolves on me.

  I surged to my feet with a shriek, the blanket falling away. My eyes darted around the living room, looking over the couches, the end tables, the big TV, the rows of books on their wooden shelves. The wraithwolves were there, I was sure of it, and I called elemental fire to my hand as I spun, ready to blast them dead. I saw the lights of Manhattan through the windows in the dining room, and…

  Wait. There hadn’t been skyscrapers in the Eternity Crucible.

  I blinked in confusion, looking at the blanket where it had dropped to the floor. The blanket. It was a big, thick blanket, and in the confusion of the nightmare, I had mistaken its weight for a wraithwolf.

  So now I was standing in my underwear in my husband’s condo at two in the morning, ready to burn the place down because I thought the creatures of the Shadowlands were after me.

  “Jesus, Nadia,” I whispered to myself, closing my eyes and dismissing the magic I had summoned. I forced myself to calm down, though a tremor still went through my hands. Th
at would be a fine present for Riordan when he returned, wouldn’t it? We had been married just over two weeks, and the first time he has to leave on work for the Shadow Hunters, I burn down his condo while he’s gone?

  I sighed and paced in a circle, taking deep breaths until my heart rate slowed back down to normal. Sleep wasn’t happening again for a while, so I stooped, folded the blanket, and put it back on the couch. I decided to get my workout in early. I didn’t have anything better to do, and perhaps exercise would tire me out enough that I could get back to sleep. After that, maybe I would catch a flight back to Milwaukee and stay with the Marneys and Russell until Riordan got back from Britain.

  I had always been a loner, but I was beginning to suspect that I had become the kind of woman who shouldn’t be left alone with herself for too long.

  My mind made up, I took one step towards the bedroom.

  My phone rang.

  I stopped and looked back at the end table. Was it Riordan? London was five hours ahead of New York, so he was probably awake by now. Then again, Shadow Hunters tended to keep odd hours for their work.

  I stepped to the end table and picked up my new phone. My old phone had caught fire in the Shadowlands, and I had smashed my phone before that in a fit of rage and grief. This new phone was a high-end model with all sorts of elaborate features, though I was going to customize it with abilities more useful to my particular line of work.

  I recognized the number on the screen.

  It wasn’t Riordan.

  “Shit,” I muttered, then I took a deep breath to calm myself and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Good evening, Mrs. MacCormac,” said a dry male voice. It was Robert Exeter, one of the troop of lawyers/secretaries who followed the High Queen everywhere to take dictation. Riordan had told me that Julius Caesar had been famous for having multiple scribes following him everywhere to take down his correspondence, and apparently, the High Queen did the same thing. “Or good morning, I suppose. I trust you are well?”

  “Just great,” I lied. “What can I do for you?”

  “The High Queen wishes your presence at once,” said Exeter.

  I felt my throat go dry. The High Queen had said she would have work for me once my honeymoon was over. It had been over for a day and a half, and already she was calling. “I’ll get there as soon as I can. Where are you?”

  “We are waiting for you at 40th Street south of Bryant Park,” said Exeter.

  I blinked. “Really? That’s not far.” The building with Riordan’s condo was on the block of 6th Avenue and 43rd Street. It would be a ten-minute walk to Bryant Park.

  “It is not,” said Exeter. “I suggest you arrive within the next half-hour.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Be there soon.”

  I hung up, took a deep breath, and hurried to the bedroom to get dressed. I wore the clothes I usually did – black jeans, snug gray sweater, and running shoes. Over it all, I donned a long black pea coat, and I put my phone and a small revolver into the interior pockets. The clothes were too heavy for New York in August, but that was all right.

  I often felt a lot colder than most people. Another fun little consequence of the Eternity Crucible.

  I left the condo and took the elevator to the lobby. I usually preferred the stairs (it’s a great mini-workout), but I didn’t want to keep the High Queen waiting. I hurried from the lobby and headed for Bryant Park at a brisk walk. The air was torrid and hot. The temperature had been ninety-five yesterday, and it was supposed to be hot again tomorrow. Or later today, I suppose. It was two in the morning, but there were still a few people on the streets, mostly inebriated people heading home from various bars and clubs. It probably wasn’t safe for one woman to walk the streets alone at night, but New York had a massive Homeland Security presence after the Rebel attack, and the men-at-arms of the local Elven nobles still patrolled the streets.

  Besides, anyone who tried to mug me would be in for a seriously unpleasant surprise.

  Bryant Park is a nice place in midtown Manhattan with a lot of tree-shaded sidewalks. I had never been there in winter, but Riordan had told me that the city made part of it into a skating rink when the weather is cold enough. I’ve never been ice skating, and I wondered if I would be any good at it.

  I came to 40th Street and spotted the High Queen’s vehicle. It wasn’t hard to find. There was no parking on the street, but a tour bus had pulled over to the curb, its lights flashing. Two black SUVs had been parked in front of and behind the bus, and through their windows, I glimpsed Elven Royal Guards in their silver armor. God have mercy on the Homeland Security traffic officer who tried to cite them for parking illegally.

  I walked towards the bus, and the doors hissed open at my approach.

  An Elven woman waited for me. She was tall, with dark hair and bright silver eyes, and wore a bright pink leather coat. The coat fit well against her lean body, but I knew thanks to the spells Kaethran Morvilind had put upon it, she could fit an entire arsenal into its pockets.

  “Hi, Tyth,” I said.

  “Nadia!” said Tythrilandria, beaming. Like me, she had once been Lord Morvilind’s shadow agent, and now we both worked for the High Queen. Unlike me, she seemed to serve as one of Tarlia’s personal assistants. Perhaps the High Queen had wanted an assistant who knew how to keep a secret.

  Because, good God, the High Queen spun more webs than a spider.

  But I liked Tyth. We had survived some crazy and dangerous things together. And she had come to my wedding.

  “How’s the new job?” I said.

  “Busy,” said Tyth. “There’s always something to do, but that’s okay. I totally like being busy.” Her face went grave. “She wants to see you right away.”

  I took a deep breath. “Let’s not keep her waiting.”

  I followed Tyth onto the bus. The interior looked like a conference room. The seats lined the walls and faced each other, probably so the occupants could talk while the bus was in motion. There were multiple video monitors on the walls, showing a combination of news reports and maps. All of them were muted. I spotted Exeter in one of the chairs, along with two more middle-aged lawyers in business suits and a pair of Royal Guards.

  The High Queen Tarlia stood at the end of the bus, scowling at a tablet. She was tall, over seven feet, and as always wore silver armor that fit close to her body. Her eyes were a ghostly shade of blue, and her flame-colored hair was bound back with a golden circlet.

  “Your Majesty,” said Tyth. “Nadia Moran MacCormac has arrived.”

  “I see,” said Tarlia, her voice like music and thunder. “Thank you, Tythrilandria. All of you, wait outside. Mrs. MacCormac and I must speak alone for a moment.” A ghost of a smile went over her face. “Go have a cigarette, Exeter.”

  “I’m trying to quit, your Majesty,” said Exeter, but he produced a carton and a lighter as he stood. Tyth, the lawyers, and the Royal Guards filed out, leaving me alone with the High Queen.

  That’s always an unsettling feeling, let me tell you.

  “Your Majesty,” I said. I couldn’t remember if I was supposed to bow or kneel, so I settled for a deep bow.

  That amused Tarlia. “Darling girl. You seemed surprised to see me.”

  “I am,” I said. “I thought the Skythrone was in Africa.”

  “Northern Africa,” said Tarlia, “and the Skythrone should soon be crossing into the Middle East. The Day of Return has heralded great change, but it seems that the Caliphate, the Imamate, and the Neo-Ottoman Empire have decided to celebrate those changes by preparing to make war on each other. But I will not allow that, and a Royal Progress will remind them of my displeasure on the matter.” She smiled. “But the High Queen need not always be where the Skythrone is. How was your honeymoon?”

  “Good,” I said, thrown by the sudden change in topic. “We...ah, we went to the Grand Canyon.” She raised an eyebrow. “I had never seen it before. I’ve driven across the US dozens of times and I’ve been to Arizona
a lot, but I never had time to see the Grand Canyon.” I had been surprised at how much I had enjoyed it. But maybe going to see it with Riordan had made all the difference.

  “You and Mr. MacCormac came to know each other satisfactorily?” said Tarlia. “I understand that physical compatibility is quite important in a human marriage.”

  I felt my cheeks warm as I realized what she meant. “Yes, your Majesty. Very...er, satisfactorily.”

  “Well, Mr. MacCormac does seem quite physically capable. I assume he is in Britain?” said Tarlia, lifting something that glittered. I blinked in surprise. She was holding a small crystal vial of blood. It was the vial of heart’s blood that Morvilind had taken from me when I had entered his service.

  “Yes, your Majesty,” I said. “Business for the Shadow Hunters.”

  “Mmm,” said Tarlia. “As it happens, detonating a nuclear device in the Shadowlands weakened the barrier between the Shadowlands and Earth itself. I’m afraid that such incursions from the Shadowlands are going to be more common for some time.”

  “It...was still better than letting the Sky Hammer go off in New York,” I said.

  “I quite agree,” said Tarlia. “But it’s time for your first assignment from me, darling girl. A bit of a trial run, let’s say. Are you ready?”

  I knew this had been coming. And strangely, I had been looking forward to it. I was good at what I did, and idleness never suited me. “Yes, your Majesty.”

  “Splendid,” said Tarlia, and she tapped a command into her tablet. One of the screens on the wall lit up, showing an official-looking portrait of a man in middle age. He wore an expensive business suit, and he was jowly and red-faced, with graying hair styled in a severe crew cut. “Do you know this man?”