A Darker Shade of Sorcery (Sample of now published novel.)

Chapter Thirteen

Arantay placed a hand over her mouth. His hand was so cold it should've hurt, but all she felt was a slight tingle.

Brooke vaguely noticed they had swords sheathed at their sides. Arantay's looked like it was carved out of crystal as red as his hair, whilst Lok's sword was golden and Tyrell's blue.

Raucous shouting stabbed into the night. Brooke turned to see a group of teenagers pass by the mouth of the alley. They laughed loudly and most of them ambled about drunk, their feet going one direction, their mind the other. Her thoughts were screaming at her to call for help, but all that came out was a timid shout, stifled by Arantay's hand.

Her captors waited in silence until the sounds of the teenage mob dwindled away. She was panting uncontrollably, panic threatening to engulf her. Faintly, Brooke's mind told her to focus on what her captors looked like. She'd need to inform the police of their descriptions.

Tyrell, the most imposing of the three, looked like he'd just stepped away from a modelling shoot. He was typically tall, dark and handsome. Brown, olive-tinted skin hinted at an Italian heritage. He had a strong square jaw and knife-sharp cheekbones, with long eyelashes that emphasized the azure of his eyes.

Lok, the one who'd laughed at her struggles, was the smallest of them and the complete opposite of Tyrell. His boyish, heart shaped face appeared innocent and his chocolate brown eyes looked like they always sparkled with amusement. He had a nose ring and what looked like a tongue piercing too. His ash-blond hair came down to his eyes, and he was currently staring at Brooke appreciatively through the unruly strands.

Unlike Arantay, the other two wore red jackets with black cuffs, collars and buttons. It reminded Brooke of something someone might wear in medieval times.

"Too many civilians around here," Lok said as a second swarm of partygoers left the club. "We'll have to move her to a more secure place before we portal."
Portal! These lunatics must've escaped the asylum.

"There's an abandoned scrapyard nearby," Lok continued. "I saw it when scouting the area for Dark-Realmers. We won't be seen there."

"No time like the present." Arantay slung Brooke across his shoulder without preamble, before jumping inhumanly high in the air. Brooke's scream was muffled by Arantay's hand as they landed on a rooftop, swiftly followed by Tyrell and Lok.
Brooke opened her mouth to shout at them, or maybe scream for her life, but before she could they were racing across the rooftops.

Draped over Arantay's shoulders, Brooke saw only blurred buildings. Seconds later Arantay was leaping through the air again. This time he didn't bother to cover Brooke's scream as they landed in the deserted scrapyard.

"As promised." She saw Lok smile as Arantay laid her at his feet.

Fear was nipping at her again, but Arantay placed his slender hand once more on her shoulder.

"She's strong," he commended.

"And fit," Lok agreed with a smirk. "We're lucky the Dark-Venators didn't snap her up first. She may turn out to be quite the demon hunter."

Demon Hunter! These guys really are batcrap crazy.

Tyrell must've noticed her eyes widen, as he said, "Lok, stop frightening her. You're doing it on purpose."

Lok grinned like the devil. "As if I would."

"We need to get to Veneseron, now." Arantay took command once again.

As the three of them assembled, a terrific roar reverberated through the air. Arantay and Tyrell froze and Lok's face flushed with excitement. Arantay moved to stand over Brooke as figures emerged from the gloom.

Standing on top of the broken shell of a truck crouched five youths, glaring at Brooke with glowing eyes.

Simultaneously, the five leaped from the truck to land in front of them.

"I thought I smelt the stench of Venator," the closest newcomer growled. "And the reek of something..." he glared at Arantay, "rotten."

Brooke stared, noticing their hands weren't hands at all, but claws.

"Good evening," the closest boy addressed her directly. "I am Merak, and I will be taking you from here."

Merak's lips skinned back into a snarl, fangs bursting from his gums and forked tongue flickering.

"Leave," Arantay spoke quietly, "and we'll forget all about it."

The strangers laughed like a pack of hyenas.

"Hand over the girl," Merak replied, "and we promise only to maim, not kill you."

"Uh, crap," Lok sighed. "Just what we needed; blood lusting Were-Beasts."