Demon Chord - A MaxTul Supernatural Thriller

Chapter 9 - Unveiled

Chapter Nine – Unveiled

The shadow watched the scene unfold in front of him.

On a whim, he decided to throw a shadow veil around the female thrall, completely shielding her from the slayer's keen sight and sensory abilities. The male Wamphyri had made no attempt to conceal himself, so the shadow didn't bother veiling him. He was curious as to how this would play out and he smiled to himself as he watched the slayer silently enter the bungalow with twin blades drawn. He wouldn't mind a little blood sport to take his mind off things.

As the Crown Prince of the Shadow Realm, he normally had no interest in the conflict between humans and Wamphyri, but since his father, the Shadow Lord, had surreptitiously started this war as a way to expand the kingdom of shadows into the mortal realm, he now had a personal stake in the interactions between the two long time combatants.

As he watched the trio from behind his own veil, he was perplexed at how the conversation was progressing. It appeared that the Wamphyri and the slayer had reached some type of mutual understanding as both put away their weapons and sat down at the table to as if to discuss the meaning of their visit. He was slightly disappointed as he selfishly desired to witness a battle between the two legendary warrior races. The Shadow People were not fighters; they preferred to win wars through subterfuge and cunning. They battled with their minds, not with their bodies, but that didn't mean that they were opposed to the physical combat of others. In fact, it was just the opposite - his uncle who had witnessed first-hand the first war between the Cadre and the Wamphyri Nation, often told him tales of the epic battles between the two races – bloody and violent, and he had always wanted to see it for himself up close and personal.

Just as he was deciding that he was bored, he saw the attractive female thrall, whom he had momentarily forgotten, quickly approach the slayer from behind and give him a hard whack on the back of the head with the butt of her gun. That's more like it, he thought.

He watched as she clasped the hand of the Wamphyri and led him outside into the bright sunlight; he followed them unnoticed as he melded with the shadow of the giant banyan tree.

Things got a lot more interesting as he listened to their conversation about quivering kas and twin flames. He smiled to himself... now this was something he could work with.

As the slayer began to gain consciousness, the duo laughed and ran hand in hand down the hot sand to what he assumed was their waiting vehicle. Except for the black clothing worn by the female, anyone seeing them would assume they were young lovers out for an afternoon of fun, instead of the deadly assassins that they were.

Back inside the bungalow, he heard the slayer moan as he tried to wake up.

Seeing that the slayer was still more asleep than awake, the shadow made another split-second decision and entered the sub-conscious mind of the slayer and veiled the memory of the Wamphyri and his thrall and laid a false memory over of it. He then retreated to the dark space between the sink counter and the refrigerator and waited.

Waking up on the floor, Max slowly sat up and looked around in confusion. He remembered coming home and suddenly feeling sick to his stomach and dizzy. It was unusual that a stomachache would cause him to pass out, but the tender spot on the back of his head where he obviously hit the floor told a different story.

Groaning, he rolled to his feet and pulled himself into the turned-out kitchen chair – perhaps he had fallen from there, though he couldn't remember sitting down.

After a few moments, he felt strong enough to walk, so he made his way slowly to the sink where he splashed cold water on his face to clear the residual fogginess. As he wiped the dripping liquid from his face with his hands, he saw movement out of his peripheral vision. Turning quickly, he reached for the blade at his waist as he saw a man materialize as if by magic from the shadows.

Smiling as if they were old friends, the young man whose visible pale skin was marked with black runes, greeted him warmly, "Hello Slayer."