Sepia Blue- Nightmare: A Sepia Blue Novel- Book 3 Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Thank you for reading

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright

  About the Author

  Sepia Blue

  Nightmare

  By

  Orlando A. Sanchez

  ONE

  SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN his face and mingled with the blood, creating rivulets that gently dripped onto his black training robe. Gan ignored it and focused on the man who stood before him who was shifting his position and stepping away. Rafael took off the jacket to his dark gray suit and placed it on a railing near the wall. A silver tie offset the crisp white shirt. He loosened it and then tied back his black hair, which had hung loose to his shoulders. His coal-black eyes never wavered from Gan as he stepped across the floor to assume a defensive stance.

  The training hall in the Gray headquarters was small. The hardwood floor in the center dominated the space. Around them, weapons of every kind adorned the walls. Both men were unarmed.

  “Tell me, Rafael, how long?” Gan asked, clenching his jaw. “How long has Regional known?”

  “Regional is aloof, not blind, Ganriel,” Rafael said. His voice, a deep baritone, echoed throughout the space. “We allow you a certain latitude, but things have gotten out of hand.”

  “Is this an official visit?”

  “Not yet it isn’t,” Rafael said. “I’m here to inform you of the threat she poses and I hope you’ll listen to reason.”

  “The artifact,” Gan whispered. “That’s why you’re here.”

  Rafael nodded, his face grim. “They’ve noticed and are coming for it,” he said. “It’s not just me. You know that.”

  Ganriel slid forward and closed the distance in a split second. His hands pulsed violet with power as he lunged forward with a straight fist. Rafael twisted around the strike and slashed across with a spearhand. Gan stopped the slash with an open palm inches from his neck.

  “Your stonehand is as fearsome as I remember,” Rafael said. “It’ll be another twenty-four hours before Regional even knows I’m here.”

  Rafael feinted to the left and stepped right. Gan dodged left and struck right. Rafael slashed down and blocked the incoming strike. Gan allowed the momentum of the block to pull him down as he twisted around and elbowed Rafael in the ribs. Rafael grunted in pain as he slashed forward, shredding Gan’s robe as his fingers cut through the fabric. Gan stepped back and looked at the tattered remains of his sleeve.

  “It seems the years haven’t dulled your bladehand,” Gan said. “This was a new robe, a gift.”

  Gan ripped off the sleeve and let it fall to the ground.

  Rafael gave a small bow as he smiled.

  “I’ll replace it, old friend.”

  “If Regional didn’t send you, then why are you here?”

  “Velos is being sent to your city, along with the rest of his group.”

  “The Hand of Regional led by Velos?” Gan said. “He’s a madman. It will be a massacre.”

  “An efficient madman who gets results, which is all Regional cares about,” Rafael said. “He’s been tasked with retrieving the artifact.”

  “You mean killing Sepia.”

  Rafael looked away. “Yes,” he said. “I doubt it can be removed by extraction of the gem.”

  “Just say what needs to be said,” Gan answered. “No need to sanitize.”

  “Ganriel, the artifact needs to be removed and destroyed. The loss of one Hunter is an acceptable cost to preserve the rest of this city.”

  “I find that cost too high.”

  “We don’t,” Rafael said. “The Hand was chosen because it is effective and efficient. He will remove the artifact and we can destroy it.”

  “Don’t you mean removed and harnessed?” Gan asked. “Since when is the Order in the business of relinquishing power?”

  “This artifact is different, it’s Unholy, and we don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.”

  “And you can’t control it,” Gan said. “Say it.”

  Rafael sighed. “And we can’t control it,” he whispered. “It’s better destroyed.”

  “Typical Regional response,” Gan answered, his voice cutting through the room. “You don’t understand something, can’t control or manipulate it, so it’s better to destroy it.”

  “Don’t you even care for her?” Rafael shot back. “This artifact will transform and twist her into something malevolent. It won’t be her! She already wields a dark sword—the only Hunter to do so without ill effects.”

  “That belonged to her mother,” Gan answered. “And it chose her.”

  “Exactly my point,” Rafael said. “The fact that she hasn’t been turned by it, this doesn’t surprise you? That eye of hers that glows like a goddamn Nightmare beacon—that is normal?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “If you really care for her, really love her as a daughter, then death is the best and only thing you can give her right now.”

  Gan flexed the muscles of his jaw as he looked at his friend.

  “I care,” Gan whispered. “In honor of our past friendship, I’m going to let you walk out of here without breaking both your legs.”

  “I’m sorry you can’t see what needs to be done here, but that’s always been your weakness,” Rafael replied. “Your emotions cloud your judgment.”

  “Thank you for your candor,” Gan said, his voice tight. “I think you need to go.”

  “I leave tonight. Don’t fight us on this one, Gan. They will crush you and still go after her.”

  “Velos is no match for me or any Hunter with a named blade for that matter.”

  “You still don’t understand what’s in play here,” Rafael said. “Regional released one of the dark blades. They know she wields a dark weapon and felt this was the appropriate response.”

  “Impossible—no one in Regional is that insane.”

  “No, not impossible,” Rafael said. “Velos is holding a dark blade and is bonded to it.”

  “A bonded dark blade?” Gan asked incredulously. “They must be desperate, crazy or both. How did you let that happen? You know the power those swords possess.”

  “They’re scared, Gan, and people don’t behave rationally when scared. Especially people in positions of power. I couldn’t stop this even if I wanted to—and I don’t. She needs to be stopped.”

  “I won’t let you kill her,” Gan said. “She’s too important to me.”

  “The artifact is more important,” Rafael said. “It’s too great a threat to leave in the hands of class-two Hunter wielding a dark blade. Doesn’t matter who her mother was.”

  Gan rubbed his face and pulled a towel from the wall. He wiped the bloody sweat from his eyes and smiled at Rafael.

  “Gan, no,” Rafael said, shaking his head. “I know that face but you can’t win this. Let it go. I know you, the ties you have, but you have to understand she’s already dead.”

  Gan grew serious. “Rafael, the only way you get to her is when I stop breathing.”

  “What is the value of one Hunter—ex-Hunter—against the entire Order?” Rafael asked. “If you take this position, they will kill you both and rip the artifact from her.”

  “How?” Gan asked. “We don’t even know how it merged with her.”

  “Do you think for one second that matters to Velos or Regional?” Rafael asked. “All they look at are the results.”

  “You want to know the value?” Gan turned and walked across the floor to leave the training hall. “To me, she’s priceless.”

  “I’ll make sure to engrave that on your tombstone,” Rafael answered.
“Did you forget what happened to the last person who held that artifact?”

  Gan stopped walking and let out a long breath.

  “This conversation is over.”

  “They’re coming for the artifact and you can’t stop them.”

  “Watch me,” Gan said. “Make sure you don’t get in my way.”

  “Gan, I’m sorry, it’s just that you can’t win this time,” Rafael said as he stepped close to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t make the same mistake he did. He couldn’t control it and neither can she.”

  “Goodbye, Director,” Gan said as he removed Rafael’s hand from his shoulder and left the training hall.

  TWO

  Sepia stared up at the Keep ceiling. She lay back in the hospital bed and tried to shift her weight, with little success. The smooth metal of the half-mask covering the left side of her face felt cool against her skin. Large leather straps crisscrossed her torso, keeping her firmly in place. Matching straps immobilized her legs. Wards were inscribed along the surface of each of the straps. Every time she moved, they gave off a small iridescent glow. She traced the mask, feeling the wards etched in the metal under her fingers. Feeling for the edge of the mask, she tried to remove it from her face.

  “That would be a bad idea,” Wake said from behind her. “Not that you could remove it.”

  Sepia tugged anyway and gave up after a few tries.

  She’s right, it won’t come off.

  Sepia dropped her hand and put her head back in the pillow. She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “How did I not sense you?” Sepia asked. “Where’s Gan?”

  “Gray HQ, and no one senses me unless I want them to,” Wake answered. “It wasn’t easy finding you.”

  “That was you near the rift,” Sepia said. “You were the one who tracked me through the park.”

  Wake nodded. “A Dreadwolf decided to make a meal out of my leg on the way,” she said and pointed to the bandage wrapped around her thigh.

  Sepia looked around the sparsely furnished room. She was in the only bed. Across from the bed, a table and chair were the only other items in the room. Sepia closed her eyes and felt for Perdition. Energy coursed through her as she felt the edge of Wake’s blade at her neck.

  “Don’t do that,” Wake whispered, her face close to Sepia’s. “I would hate to have to kill you.”

  Sepia let the energy go. Wake withdrew her blade and sheathed it. The energy unspooled inside of Sepia, bathing her body in warmth. Perdition was different—stronger, and more powerful. She could feel it just on the edge of her awareness, beckoning to her.

  What the hell is going on? Perdition is not this powerful.

  “I need to get out of here,” Sepia said. “No one is safe around me.”

  “Where exactly do you want to go?” Wake asked. “The moment you leave the Keep, they will come after you.”

  “So I should wait here until they find and erase me?” Sepia said. “You don’t know me very well.”

  “It’s too dangerous. Whatever you have inside is changing you. You can barely control it, or did you fail to notice the straps?”

  “I need to get this thing off my face,” Sepia said. “It’s not helping.”

  “Only one person can take that off, and I don’t think Gan is going to let him,” Wake answered. “It took five Ward Masters to get that inhibitor mask on you. You almost killed two of them.”

  “Gan put this on me?”

  Sepia brought a hand up to her face again, touching the mask.

  “No, it was Hep,” Wake said. “Gan just made sure you didn’t kill anyone in the process.”

  “I don’t remember any of that,” Sepia whispered as a memory surfaced. “Jas—where’s Jas?”

  “Last I heard she was getting inked,” Wake said. “Mercy said she was critical and Gan brought in someone to ink her. Probably saved her life.”

  “She saved mine.”

  “I heard,” Wake said. “The rift flames nearly killed her.”

  “So you’re here to stop me if I try to escape?”

  Wake walked to the other side of the room, leaned against the wall, and gave her a short nod. “My job is to convince you to stay put...by any means necessary.”

  “Gan again?”

  “Anna,” Wake said. “She seems to think you might be a threat. I wonder what gave her that idea?”

  “She has no clue,” Sepia whispered. “I can’t stay here.”

  “I don’t like it any more than you do, but you need to stay here.”

  Sepia closed her eyes and focused her breath. She directed the energy coursing through her and pulled it tight.

  I need to get out of here.

  “Sepia, don’t…” Wake warned as she unsheathed a knife.

  Wake ran across the floor, throwing one of her knives. Sepia exhaled and unleashed the energy. The straps disintegrated as the wards along their surface flared bright red. The wave of energy radiated out from Sepia, knocking back the knife, and Wake, against the wall. Wake fell to the ground, unconscious. Sepia sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  Mercy glided into the room. Her white silk robe flared with light as the wards inscribed along its length came to life. Her long blond hair cascaded behind her as she approached the bed.

  “Where’s Gan?” Sepia asked. “Is he here?”

  “He is at the Gray headquarters,” Mercy answered as she moved to check on Wake. “Jasmine had to be taken there to complete the inking process.”

  “Can you take this thing off?” Sepia said and pointed at the mask.

  Mercy bent over Wake. “Thank you for not injuring her,” she said as she moved Wake to the bed. “And no, it can’t be removed.”

  “What do you mean ‘can’t’?”

  “Can’t, as in even if I could, I wouldn’t,” Mercy said. “That mask is the only thing keeping you from transforming into a Night—into an Unholy.”

  “You can say it, a Nightmare Lord,” Sepia whispered, and then motioned to Wake. “Is she okay?”

  “She will recover,” Mercy said, looking at the remains of the straps. “You can’t control the power inside of you. I don’t even know how you’re alive, but if you take off that mask you will change.”

  “I need to get to Hep,” Sepia answered. “He can remove it.”

  “He can’t and won’t,” Mercy said, “and the moment you step outside of the Keep, the Unholy will sense you and attack.”

  “I can’t manifest my weapon. I can sense it there just beneath the surface.”

  Sepia held her hands out in front of her and focused, but nothing happened.

  “Your weapon is dark,” Mercy said. “This may be for the best.”

  “For the best?” Sepia said. “I’m changing into one of the Unholy and you tell me it’s for the best?”

  “Gan is doing everything possible to—”

  “I can’t wait for him, Mercy,” Sepia whispered as she put on her clothes. She tightened the sheaths on her thighs and adjusted the holsters on her hips. “Every second that passes I get closer to being one of them.”

  “If you fight in this state, in this condition, you will accelerate the process,” Mercy said. “Please stay here. We can help you.”

  Sepia looked at Wake’s unconscious form.

  “I don’t need that kind of help,” she said. “I know where I need to go. I need to go to the source.”

  “You can’t mean—”

  “The rift, yes,” Sepia said. “It seems that’s the only place where I will get answers.”

  “And death,” Mercy whispered. “You can’t do this, Sepia. The rift will kill you. Or worse.”

  “She’s right,” said a voice from outside the room. “If you go to the rift now you won’t return.”

  It was Calisto.

  “You should be in bed,” Mercy said. “Your recovery isn’t complete.”

  Ursa padded silently into the room and sat on his haunches behind Calisto.

  �
��I’ll be fine,” Calisto answered, waving away Mercy’s words. “There is another way, Hunter, but it involves significant risk.”

  “Tell me.”

  “We must unbind your sword before the change,” Calisto said. “For that we need the Ward Master.”

  “Gan knows plenty of Ward Masters,” Sepia said. “It’s how this thing got on my face in the first place.”

  “I didn’t say a Ward Master, Calisto answered. “I said the Ward Master.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sepia said. “Who is this Ward Master?”

  “He hasn’t been seen in decades, Calisto, we don’t even know if he is still alive,” Mercy said. “And even if he is, we don’t know how to find him.”

  “I know how to find him,” Calisto said. “If he is alive I can take her to him.”

  “Who?” Sepia asked again.

  “He is the one who placed the original wards around the park,” Calisto said. “Some say he is one of the Unholy but no one knows for sure. I have a way to locate him.”

  “How?” Sepia asked.

  “Gan won’t like it,” Calisto whispered to herself. “But it’s the only way.”

  “Does this Ward Master have a name or is that a mystery too?” Sepia asked.

  “He goes by Fuma the Warder,” Calisto answered. “It’s the only name he has ever used.”

  “I can’t stop you, even though I’m against this course of action,” Mercy said. “So take my words—choose life over death.”

  Sepia nodded and held Mercy’s hands.

  “Thank you, for everything,” she said.

  Mercy let go of her hands and gave her a hug. “You will always be welcome here.”

  “Ursa, we must travel to the obelisk, but first the Hall,” Calisto said. “Can you create the gate?”

  Ursa growled and gave a short nod.

  “What obelisk?” Sepia asked. “Weren’t they all destroyed when we fought Chimera?”

  “No, not all of them,” Calisto replied. “This one is special. This isn’t just a ward stone like the others.”

  They stood next to Ursa, who gave a long growl before the three of them disappeared.

  THREE

  Jas lay on her stomach inside the Gray medical facility. Her room was situated on the second floor of a non-descript property located on the Upper Westside. It was nestled between an old church and a squat office building. Its plain façade blended in and rendered the Gray facility invisible in plain sight.