The City of Nightmares

Blaise Ramsay

Description

On the night of the Hunter’s Moon, all fell silent as cracks between the cobblestone flooded with streams of red. Monsters who once were men moaned and wailed in the winding alleys of the walled city…

Two years ago, Zayne Bishop, the last Witch Hunter, was thrown through a Black Mirror by a vindictive Dark Witch obsessed with using the blood of a dead dark god to enhance her magic. Left half-dead in San Francisco, Zayne met the dhampyre warlock Logan Myre, and the two teamed up to get Zayne home, only to find the answers he sought were in the very world he found himself. Peace is shattered when Zayne receives an invitation from an anonymous client wishing to meet with him. According to her, war is coming between the vampires and witches.

Vampires are being slaughtered, their organs stolen. Fae blood is being harvested, leaving husks in their wake. Fear runs rampant in an already unstable Supernatural world. To combat the unrest, Zayne must once again team up with Alexis, Logan, and the newly recruited Wood Elf Ciri to journey to the birthplace of his nightmare and confront another of the Black Circle of Seven: a powerful Necromancer with the ability to control monsters starving for blood bent on tearing Europe apart to find the macabre Book of the Old Blood.

To do this, Zayne will need to delve into the darker realm of his history, agree to a deal with a dangerous Fae queen, and face the demons created by the one who founded the Witch Hunters—the mysterious Grand Master. Zayne and Logan’s budding relationship is put to the test…

Sujets

• Fantastique
• Romance fantastique
• Bit-Lit
• Romance
• Romance Fantasy
• Witchcraft
• Witches
• Witch
• Fiction
• Paranormal
• Romance paranormale

Informations

• Publié par: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
• Date de parution: 10 juin 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781644502419
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Table o f Contents
Prologue
Voice In the Alley
Of Nightmares & Envelopes
Invitation
Inside the Clock work Royce
Bianca
New R evelations
Road t o Florence
Along Cam e a Spider
Once a Lone Wolf
The Shad ow Streets
Dirty Dealings & Body Parts
Valentine
Truth Withi n the Ring
Let Me Bask in Y our Beauty
Kosam
God Kin
Beginning of the Truth
Ghosts of Hun ter’s Past
P ara Bellum
Realm of Shadows
Mor gan Le Fey
Throug h the Gate
Tha t Dark Day
Malicio us Shadows
B lood Beast
Feels Good to Be Home
Epilogue
About the Author


The City of Nightmares


The City of Ni ghtmares
Copyright © 2021 Blaise Ramsay. All rights re served.


4 Horsemen Publication s, Inc.
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Dunedin, FL 34698
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Typeset by Sydne y Wilder
Edited by JM Paquette
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is book is meant as a reference guide. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All brands, quotes, and cited work respectfully belongs to the original rights holders and bear no affiliation to the authors or pu blisher.
Library of Congress Control Number: 20 21938926
Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-644 50-242-6
Audiobook ISBN-13: 978-1-644 50-240-2
Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-644 50-241-9
Prologue

L ogan Myre couldn’t stand it any longer. His mother’s face, smiling in the portrait his father commissioned years ago, pierced Logan’s heart with a dagger as cold as the fal ling snow.
Victoria Myre had spent her entire life emanating warmth to everyone around her, even when the sting of death’s grip chained her to bed. After the death of Logan’s father, his mother did all she could to comfort her son against the pain.
When he was an older teen, Logan learned she did much more. She protected him against the genuine threat lurking in the shadowy halls of her o wn family.
Stained glass windows let in the scant amount of light from outside, sconces and braziers aiding the electric lighting to make the portrait clear. Flowers lined the front of the chestnut casket on the podium’s lower level. Their floral aromas mixed with the smells of the wax and oils.
Bodies packed the wooden pews on both sides of the auditorium in Labyrinthos’s sacred palace. On the right sat witches and warlocks. The left housed primarily vampires and their underlings. It was a gathering so rare, few recordings existed in the history of the Supernatural world. Sniffles and choked cries echoed, mingling with the droning voice of Barnabus Cartwright, the head of the Silv er Circle.
Barnabus’s deep timbre demanded the attention of everyone in the room. Logan had witnessed similar speeches when Barnabus spoke to the new witches and warlocks brought into Labyrinthos for training.
He spoke of bright memories when Victoria brought peace between the vampires and the warlocks with the help of a Wit ch Hunter.
Logan raised a brow at the new term. He’d never heard of a Witch Hunter. As a warlock, he thought they sounded dangerous. Logan hoped he never came face to face with one.
Continuing his speech, Barnabus mentioned his own encounters with Logan ’s mother.
“She was a very dear friend of mine and many of those behind me.” Barnabus gestured a wrinkled hand behind him where the other Silver Circle members—all wearing their signature silver robes—sat in ornate wooden chairs, their faces emotionless masks. “In this dark time, let us remember the light Victoria Myre brought to o ur world.”
Logan rolled his eyes, the corner of his lip lifting to reveal his fangs. If the old hypocrite cared anything about my mother, he’d help her only surviving son with this hug e problem.
Forget the fact that the Silver Circle had done when Logan’s father suffered the same unfortunate fate as his mother. No one bothered to investigate why a perfectly healthy warlock suddenly fell dead in the middle of a gathering.
They ruled it a heart attack, an unfortunate incident. Logan had always recognized the bald-faced lie, but what could a boy of six do to make peop le listen?
With everyone’s presence in the room, the heat of the fires, and his growing anger at Barnabus’s words, the air became hot as a furnace.
Logan’s black tailored suit stifled him. In a desperate attempt to breathe, he tugged at the tie around his neck. It did little to off er relief.
Sweat dripped down his back, nose, and temples. Muscles tightened all over his body, his blood heated by the rapid beating of his heart.
Not caring what anyone around him thought, Logan needed to get away to calm himself. He shouldered his way through the auditorium’s large wooden doors out into the hallway, ignoring the glare from the woman sitting in the front row.
Now that Victoria couldn’t shield him, Logan knew what he had to do, and he hated it. There were people in Labyrinthos he cared for deeply. Logan knew his actions would devastate one in particular. That thought alone made Logan want to fall to his knees and vomit.
Instead, he started walking, his head lowered and eyes to the floor. His parents had told him about the fail-safe since Logan could walk—just in case something happene d to them.
Glancing to his right, he stopped to admire the view for what might be his last time for only God knew how many centuries.
Labryinthos itself nestled on a ledge overlooking an ocean on one side, a canyon with a valley on the other. In its shadow sat a tiered city filled with Supernaturals and magic users of all kinds going about th eir lives.
Logan had spent most of his life inside the city’s walls; he knew little of the outside world aside from what his mother showed him during thei r outings.
Both parents were always like that—cautious of everything around them—when they left the safety of the palace-lik e mansion.
The night breeze twirled the silken curtains at one set of ope n windows.
Fresh snow whispered through the deep canyon and settled on the balcony railing. In the valley, the inhabitants were likely settling down for the lo ng winter.
Paintings in neat rows on the wall depicted various gods and ancient figures fighting demonic creatures. Tables below each painting displa yed roses.
No matter how beautiful, the night weighed heavily on Logan as he stood in front of the ope n windows.
Steam flowed from his mouth into the cool winter air. His gaze never wavered from the majestic view even when he heard the ne w arrival.
“Hey, you okay?” The familiar voice was as soft and comforting as the lips it came through. Logan closed his eyes, heaving a sigh as he remembered all the times he had stared at that mouth. Each time, he wanted to steal the owner away to somewhere private . “Logan?”
Logan turned to see his lifelong friend, Valentine Bane, staring at him with his hand outstretched and eyes creased with worry. He wanted to lie, but the words wouldn’t come. Of all the people in Logan’s life, Valentine was the hardest to lie to, even when it was for something special like birthdays or holidays.
They had met when they were kids, when none of the other warlocks wanted anything to do with Valentine. Like always, Logan went against the grain and invited Valentine to play ball with him.
“No, I’m not okay, Val. What’re you doing out here? Isn’t your father presiding over the ceremony?” Logan asked solemnly, angling his body to the night beyond t he window.
Maybe if he kept himself closed off, the tears stinging the corners of his eyes and the heart-wrenching pain might make leavi ng easier.
Valentine drew close and said nothing, his presence c omforting.
This was another quality Logan loved about him. Val always knew when Logan needed him close yet didn’t wan t to talk.
Somehow, Logan knew Val wanted to say more. The tension swirling between them was so thick it could strangl e someone.
The whispering snow filled the void until Valentine blew a breath through his nostrils. “I know this isn’t the best time, but I’ve... heard som e rumors.”
Logan’s shoulders grew tighter, inching toward his jaw until his back ached. “Wha t rumors?”
“Rumors you’re planning on leaving. That you’ve been planning it since you heard your mom was dying,” Valentine commented, melancholy tinting his tone.
Logan remain ed silent.
What could he say other than his flight wasn’t his choice, but his mother’s request? Logan’s parents had revealed the plan to a chosen few—only those needed to get Logan o ut safely.
The fewer people who knew about it, the better. He couldn’t tell anyone, not even Valentine, per his parent s’ wishes.
How his leaving became the center of gossip, Logan didn’t know, nor did it real ly matter.
Firm hands gripped Logan’s shoulders, forcing him to look into Val’s jade eyes. “I need to hear it from you. Please, Logan. Tell me it’s not true.”
God, how Logan wanted to take Val’s face in his hands and brush away the tears falling down h is cheeks.
Valentine Bane was the most beautiful and strongest warlock L ogan knew.
Despite all the hate directed at him, Val remained firm, not allowi