Fallen Shroud: An Urban Fantasy Novel: (Twisted Curse Series Book 1) Read online

  Copyright © 2021 by D.J. Dalton

  Weeping Spider Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, exempt in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by law.

  All characters and events depicted in this novel are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  For more information, email: [email protected]

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7368219-0-9

  Contents

  Copyright

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  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  20. Chapter Twenty

  21. Chapter Twenty-One

  22. Chapter Twenty-Two

  23. Chapter Twenty-Three

  24. Chapter Twenty-Four

  25. Chapter Twenty-Five

  26. Chapter Twenty-Six

  27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

  28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

  29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

  30. Chapter Thirty

  31. Chapter Thirty-One

  32. Chapter Thirty-Two

  33. Chapter Thirty-Three

  34. Chapter Thirty-Four

  35. Chapter Thirty-Five

  36. Chapter Thirty-Six

  37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

  38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

  39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

  40. Chapter Forty

  41. Chapter Forty-One

  42. Chapter Forty-Two

  43. Chapter Forty-Three

  44. Chapter Forty-Four

  45. Chapter Forty-Five

  46. Chapter Forty-Six

  47. Chapter Forty-Seven

  48. Chapter Forty-Eight

  49. Chapter Forty-Nine

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  Chapter One

  Keren

  It wasn’t uncommon for kids to have an imaginary friend. Keren lucked out. She had four of them. However, the fact she was twenty-one and still interacting with her imaginary friends proved problematic. Employers frowned on having conversations with yourself or staring into what they saw as empty space.

  She focused on the hulking mist creature standing before her. The scent of pine filled the living room. Its bear stature towered over her. A feline head crowned with a golden mane brought the creature to its ten-foot height. Its name was Three.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got.” Keren darted left, hopping on the arm of a beige sectional couch. She launched herself at Three’s head. At the last minute, Three ducked. Keren sailed over its head. Landing in a tuck and roll, she sprung to her feet.

  At an early age, Keren made up this game of tag with her imaginary friends. It taught her speed and agility, which came in handy in school defending her shifter friends from bullies, seeing as shifters didn’t come into their magical powers until they were teenagers. As she got older, the game grew more extreme.

  She charged at Three’s midsection. With uncanny speed, it shifted to the side. Keren twisted, reaching out to grab the branches and vines that hung over Three’s dark green fur. Her hands missed the target.

  She landed hard on the wooden coffee table. It groaned and cracked under her weight. The legs gave out, dropping Keren to the floor. She grunted, then looked at Three.

  “Mom’s not going to like this.”

  Three wrinkled its brow and shrugged. The adorable gesture contradicted the ferocity of the oversized canine teeth.

  She kipped up from the floor. Picking up a coffee table leg, she inched closer to Three. Feigning right, she waited for it to pull left. She thrust the table leg into Three’s belly.

  “Ha, got you.”

  Three lowered its head, letting out a heavy sigh.

  She pulled her hand back, tossing the wooden leg on the floor. “Don’t be sad, Three. We’ll play again tomorrow.”

  Three nodded, the mist dissipating into the air.

  “Alright One, you’re next.” Keren walked to the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, the crisp air reminded her of the wet earth smell after a thunderstorm.

  She stared at the mist creature hovering near the ceiling. Bat wings supported a lizard body. Its wide mouth displayed needle-sharp teeth. Two horns extended backwards from its head.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got.” She lowered her stance.

  Bead-like ruby eyes stared at her. One’s long, thin tail swung a sharp-tipped end over its head. Keren leaned right, shifting her weight at the last minute to hop left. One followed her movement, avoiding the feint.

  Her cell phone rang, the caller ID showing Mom’s Work. Mom taught psychology and linguistics at UCF. Her award-winning dissertation about analyzing documents of cultural heritage won her a research grant last year.

  It was almost 5 pm, past Mom’s normal quitting time. Frowning, Keren hoped nothing was wrong. She answered the call. “Hi, Mom.”

  One swung its tail at Keren’s head. She ducked, lunging for its foot. It moved just out of reach by flipping over. One seemed pleased with itself. It enjoyed winning the game.

  “Hey, good news.” Mom sounded excited. “The head of the linguistics department at Berkeley is visiting. He wants to view my presentation on Linguistic Topology of Sampling Strategies Bias.”

  “Wow, Mom, that’s great.” One righted itself, and Keren prepared for its attack. It dove, reaching out with its taloned feet. She hopped back, knocking over a cup on the counter, causing it to crash to the floor.

  “Thanks, honey.” The mom voice kicked in. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah, clumsy me. I knocked over a cup.”

  “Be careful not to cut yourself cleaning it up.” Mom’s voice relaxed. “I’m calling because I’ve scheduled Azalea to come by this evening and strengthen the protection spells in the house. I canceled last week.”

  “I can take care of it.” Keren inched her way closer to the broom in the corner as One’s eyes tracked her every move.

  “Are you sure? Remember to point out all the problem links. And you also-”

  She peered at the shattered cup on the floor. The appointment would give her extra time to clean up the mess before Mom got home. “Mom, I’ve seen you manage re-protect visits a thousand times. I got this.”

&nb
sp; “Thank you. I love you. Gotta run.” Mom hung up.

  Keren lunged for the broom, brandishing it like a sword. She took wide, wild swings at One. It swooped and dodged around the attacks. A loud crash startled them, and One dissipated into the air.

  Keren’s chest heaved from the combat. White-knuckled hands maintained a firm grip on the broom. She took a large breath, then exhaled. Something crunched under her foot. She saw the coffee maker in pieces. “Are you kidding?” She searched around, but One was nowhere in sight. “We’re not done yet,” she shouted into the air.

  The phone rang again. This time, it was Nadria, her best real-life friend since nursery school. She was an assistant manager at the Kitty Café. Somehow, Nadria convinced the café owner to overlook Keren’s poor excuse for a resume and month-long stretch of unemployment. He agreed to give her a shot at a job as a Cat Concierge. She loved that title.

  Her first and only day so far had been last Tuesday. Nadria told her she would start part-time, but if she proved herself to be an exemplary employee, it could turn into full-time.

  Setting the broom down, she answered the phone. “Hey, Nadria.”

  “Hey, girl. I need a favor,” she shouted over the crowd noises in the background. “Molly called out sick, and we booked the cattery solid until close. I know it’s late notice, but I could use a hand here.”

  “I can come in.” She wished Nadria had called earlier before she agreed to cover the re-protect appointment.

  Would skipping the appointment be that big a problem? Mom’s obsession with protecting the house baffled her, but she just accepted it as one of her quirks. She canceled an appointment herself last week. What difference would a few more days make? Mom would be in her presentation now, so she couldn’t ask her. Besides, she could use the hours. “I can catch the 6 pm bus.”

  “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. See you soon.” Nadria hung up.

  The clock display on her phone screamed at her to hurry. With less than half an hour to change and get to the bus stop, adrenaline raced through her body.

  She sprinted upstairs to her room, storming into the closet. Clothes flew in a chaotic flurry as she rummaged for her good pair of jeans and a white button-down shirt. After changing, she froze. The sweet smell of burning wood caught her attention.

  She turned around, seeing Two blocking her way. Its misty wolf's body filled the entire width of the bedroom doorway and half its height. Orange and crimson flames swirled around oversized, curled ram horns. Its head tipped, aiming the horns at her.

  Where One played games, Two got right to the point. It charged. Keren grabbed the closet door frame, swinging her knees to her chin. She launched over Two. The mist dissipated upon impact with the closet wall.

  Not missing a beat, she snatched her backpack, racing to the bathroom. After twisting her chestnut hair up in a messy bun, she snatched her tea container off the counter. The antique art deco tin box had an ornate design in gold, blue, and coral with white mandala flowers. It was her sixteenth birthday gift from Mom.

  It had depressed Keren that her imaginary friend’s interference caused her to fail four driving tests. If she had failed a fifth time, she would have had to reapply for her permit. The tea contained a special blend of herbs, reducing how often she saw them. After drinking it, she had passed her driving test.

  She turned the box over in her hand. Mom always said antiques hold the secrets to our souls.

  She chose not to drink the tea since losing her restaurant job last month because she enjoyed interacting with her imaginary friends. But she couldn’t afford to lose her new job at the café. She was broke and now needed extra money to buy a new coffee table, cup, and coffee pot. Nadria would brew her a cup. She stuffed the container into her backpack and ran downstairs.

  She felt bad about ditching Ms. Oakdove. Truthfully, her harsh personality made Keren feel uneasy. Not being here when she arrived was the best solution.

  Glancing at her phone, she felt confident she had enough time to catch the bus. She ran out the door, colliding with Azalea Oakdove.

  Upon impact, Keren rebounded, grunting as her backside slammed to the ground. Seeing Ms. Oakdove, her heart sank. The lightweight fairy, only half Keren’s height, lay on the porch, sprawled on her back. Her potion bottles were scattered around her.

  Keren had known Ms. Oakdove all her life. She did all the house protection spells and any one-off work Mom needed. How old was she? Small wrinkles lined the outside of her eyes. But fairies aged slower than humans. If she were injured, Keren would never forgive herself. She reached down to help her up.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you alright? I didn’t see you.”

  Slapping her hand away, Ms. Oakdove forced Keren to stand there and watch her struggle to stand up in her tailored navy-blue pencil skirt and blazer. After regaining her feet, she glowered at her.

  “You should be more careful, child.” She brushed dirt off her blazer, then gathered her potion bottles. “I have an appointment with your mother.”

  “I’m sorry, we’ll have to reschedule.” Keren closed the door and scooted around her. “I’m late for work, and Mom’s not home.”

  Ms. Oakdove put the last potion bottle in her bag. “No, the house is due for re-protection.”

  Keren swallowed against the lump in her throat. Re-protecting the house took at least an hour. Given Ms. Oakdove’s sour mood, she’d probably take longer.

  “I could let you in and you can do the job while we’re out.”

  “No, I need a person who lives in the house to be present when casting the spell.”

  Keren let out a sigh. She could call Nadria back and tell her she couldn’t come in after all. But that not only left Nadria shorthanded, it would make her look bad for pushing the owner to give Keren a chance at the job. Or worse, she could even lose her job over this. She had already committed.

  While gathering her courage, she pushed her shoulders back. “We have to reschedule.”

  Ms. Oakdove fluttered her iridescent butterfly-like wings. They were as wide as she was tall. Sparkling fairy dust lined the outer edges. She rose, her Christian Louboutin red soul pumps lifted off the ground until she looked down her nose at Keren.

  “The house is due.”

  Keren’s courage melted. Her voice peeped out, “I’ve got to go.” She took a few steps backwards.

  Before she could leave, Ms. Oakdove grabbed her arm. “I’ll return tomorrow, at the same time.” She glanced up at the house. A worried look showed on her face.

  “Thank you.” Keren wondered if Ms. Oakdove caused Mom’s paranoia about the house. That was one way to drum up business.

  Looking at the time, Keren’s chest tightened. If she ran, she could make the 6 pm bus. She caught the scent of burning wood. Two’s misty body appeared behind Ms. Oakdove.

  Keren smiled. Two lowered its head and charged. She turned, running at top speed to the bus stop with Two close behind.

  Chapter Two

  Briggs

  Briggs parked his Land Rover a block away from the crime scene. He had received the dispatch call while he was driving home. After a grueling twelve-hour workday, he looked forward to a drink and some sleep. But the Dark Guild’s arcanum had other plans for him.

  These past few months, his inquisitor squad’s jurisdiction had been plagued with unspeakable violence against shifters. Evidence showed at least some attackers were sorcerers, humans who could wield magic spells.

  The arcanum had ravaged businesses and homes. Shifters had been brutally beaten, some murdered, and others had gone missing. So far, his squad had received nothing but dead-end leads and they were no closer to solving the crimes.

  The Chief of Inquisitors had put pressure on him to make arrests. Apparently, the chief had the judicial system on deck to expedite a trial and imprisonment of the magic criminals. With elections coming up, these crimes tarnished the chief’s otherwise exemplary persona.

  After arriving at the crime scene, Briggs skirted around the
outside of the crowd, who pressed against the crime scene tape. Reporters from every channel in Orlando, as well as major broadcast networks, pushed microphones and video cameras into the faces of anyone they thought might be coerced into talking about the crime.

  “There’s an inquisitor,” called a voice within the crowd.

  Heads turned in unison, as if by some magnetic force, in his direction. A young reporter, who smiled like he just won the lotto, trotted toward him.

  Briggs had no patience to deal with reporters. He let out a rumbling growl.

  The reporter skidded to a halt, swallowing hard as he looked up into Briggs’ bloodshot eyes. Briggs, being a bear shifter, stood six-and-one-half feet tall, towering over the reporter by nearly two feet. The reporter’s eyes drifted across his burly chest, then down to his clenched fists. He turned around, pushing his way back into the crowd.

  Briggs slipped under the crime scene tape. The gated chain-link fence of the Green Thumb Gardener’s Supply lay on the ground, or at least what was left of it. Something melted most of the metal into a charred, smoking lump. Next to it, etched into the ground, was the all too familiar circle with two lightning bolts crossing over one another. The arcanum’s symbol for the Dark Guild.

  After crossing the entrance, Briggs examined the devastation. Forensic scene tripods with lights set up around the property replaced what normally would have been a gorgeous display of trees and plants. Nearly everything had been reduced to piles of dirt and rubble.

  He’d been a frequent customer of the garden center last year when he had landscaped his yard. Mr. Hadley, the bear shifter owner, passed on earth magic tips to him so he could keep his Oakleaf Hydrangeas at their peak foliage.

  Off to the side, the pergola covering a picnic area where he had frequently shared coffee and cookies with Mrs. Hadley and her two young sons appeared partially intact. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. What kind of evil would attack a decent family like the Hadley’s?

  “Captain Wilson,” a uniformed officer called out. Briggs recognized him as Officer Jordon, a two-year veteran on his squad.