Witch’s Promise (Shadowguards #3.5)

16. Sean

Chapter 16

Sean

T he fight tonight had been a joke, barely worth the effort of lacing up his boots. Some fledgling vampire with more bravado than brains, thinking he could take on the undefeated champion of Salem's underground fight scene. Sean had put him down in under three minutes, not even breaking a sweat.

But even as his body sang with the lingering high of adrenaline, Sean felt hollow. Empty. This wasn't who he was supposed to be, not anymore. He'd promised Katelyn he'd try to do better, to be better. And yet here he was, right back in the thick of it, letting the Elder manipulate him into one more fight, one more night of violence.

The door creaked open, interrupting Sean's brooding. The Elder's wizened face appeared, a triumphant grin stretching his wrinkled features. "Excellent work tonight, my boy! You showed that upstart exactly why you're the champion."

Sean grunted, not bothering to turn around. "It wasn't much of a fight. Kid didn't know his ass from his elbow."

The Elder chuckled, the sound grating on Sean's already frayed nerves. "Perhaps not, but the crowd loved it. They always do when you're in the ring. Speaking of which, I've got you scheduled for another bout the day after tomorrow. Some werewolf from up north, thinks he's hot shit. Should be a real crowd-pleaser."

Something inside Sean snapped. He spun to face the Elder, his voice low and dangerous. "No."

The Elder blinked, confusion replacing his self-satisfied smirk. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said no," Sean repeated, each word dropping like a stone. "I'm done. No more fights."

For a moment, the Elder just stared at him, as if waiting for the punchline to some joke only he could hear. When Sean's expression remained deadly serious, the old man's face darkened.

"You can't be serious," he sputtered, anger coloring his tone. "You're at the top of your game, Sean! The undefeated champion! You can't just walk away now!"

Sean felt a grim satisfaction at the panic in the Elder's voice. "Watch me."

He turned back to his locker, methodically packing his gear. The Elder's voice rose, taking on a shrill edge that set Sean's teeth on edge.

"You ungrateful little shit! After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me? I took you in when you were nothing but a washed-up ex-assassin with nowhere else to go! I gave you purpose, a way to channel all that guilt and self-loathing into something productive!"

Sean's hands stilled, the Elder's words hitting too close to home. It was true, wasn't it? He'd come to the underground fights looking for punishment, for a way to atone for all the lives he'd taken. And the Elder had been all too happy to oblige, to mold Sean into his star attraction.

But things were different now. He had a chance - a small, fragile chance - at something better. At redemption that didn't involve blood and broken bones.

"I'm grateful for what you've done," Sean said, surprised by how steady his voice sounded. "But this isn't my life anymore. I need to make a change."

The Elder's face contorted with fury. "A change? What, you think you can just walk away and start fresh? That you can wash the blood off your hands and play at being normal? You're a killer, Sean. It's in your blood. It's who you are!"

The words hit Sean like a physical blow, dredging up all the doubt and self-loathing he'd been trying so hard to push down. But before he could spiral into that familiar pit of despair, his phone pinged.

Sean fished the device from his pocket, grateful for the distraction. A message from Katelyn lit up the screen:

Your dad came through. Riley last seen at abandoned church in Central Salem. Be careful.

A surge of adrenaline, different from the fight-high but no less potent, coursed through Sean's veins. This was it. A real lead on Riley, a chance to actually do some good instead of just punching his demons into submission.

"I've got to go," Sean said, shouldering his bag. "Thanks for everything, old man, but I'm out."

The Elder's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "You're not going anywhere, boy. Brick! Get in here and stop this ungrateful bastard!"

The door burst open, revealing the hulking form of Brick, the club's ogre bouncer. Sean felt a flicker of regret - he'd always liked Brick, even if the guy was dumber than a bag of rocks.

"Sorry about this, big guy," Sean muttered.

Before Brick could take more than two steps into the room, Sean called upon his magic. Shadows writhed at his command, surging forward to wrap around Brick's massive form. The ogre let out a startled grunt as tendrils of darkness pinned his arms to his sides, immobilizing him against the wall.

The Elder's eyes widened in shock and fear. "You said that you wouldn’t use your magic on me!”

Sean allowed himself a grim smile. "I lied."

With a flick of his wrist, more shadows sprang to life, pinning the other fighters and bouncers who'd come running at the commotion. Sean advanced on the Elder, enjoying the way the old man cowered before him.

"Listen carefully," Sean growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm walking out of here, and you're going to let me go. If I ever hear about you trying to track me down or cause trouble for me or mine, I'll show you exactly why I was my father's best assassin. Got it?"

The Elder nodded frantically, his earlier bravado evaporating in the face of Sean's unleashed power. "Y-yes, of course! Whatever you say! Just... please, don't hurt me!"

Sean felt a flicker of disgust - at the Elder's cowardice, yes, but also at himself. How easily he'd slipped back into the role of intimidator, of monster. It was a stark reminder of just how thin the line was between who he'd been and who he was trying to become.

With a sigh, Sean released his hold on the shadows. They dissipated like smoke, leaving behind a room full of confused and frightened fighters. Without another word, Sean shouldered his bag and strode out of the club.

The cool night air hit him like a slap to the face, grounding him in the present. Sean took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline and conflicting emotions warring inside him.

The abandoned church loomed before Sean, a decaying monument to forgotten faith. Its weathered stone facade was etched with decades of neglect, ivy creeping up crumbling walls like nature's slow reclamation. Sean cut the engine of his motorcycle, the sudden silence amplifying the eerie atmosphere.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Riley?" Sean muttered, securing his helmet to the bike. The question hung in the air, unanswered and foreboding.

As Sean approached the church, his instincts screamed danger. Years of training had honed his senses to a razor's edge, and right now, every nerve ending was on high alert. The rotting wooden doors creaked ominously as he pushed them open, the sound echoing through the cavernous interior.

The church's interior was a study in decay. Moonlight filtered through broken stained glass, casting fractured rainbows across dust-covered pews. The air was thick with the musty scent of abandonment, tinged with something darker that Sean couldn't quite place.

He moved cautiously, each step calculated to minimize noise. But in the oppressive silence, even his breath seemed thunderous. Sean's eyes darted from shadow to shadow, searching for any sign of movement, any hint of Riley's presence.

Nothing.

The emptiness was unnerving. Sean had expected what? A trap? An ambush? Certainly not this eerie stillness. It felt wrong, like the calm before a storm that promised only destruction.

As he neared the altar, a floorboard groaned beneath his foot. Sean froze, every muscle tensed for action. But the only response was the settling of the old building, timbers creaking like arthritic joints.

"Come on, you bastard," Sean whispered, frustration edging into his voice. "Where are you hiding?"

The lack of shadows to manipulate left Sean feeling exposed, vulnerable.

A scream shattered the silence, muffled but unmistakable. Sean's head snapped toward the sound, his heart rate spiking. It had come from below, somewhere beneath the church's rotting floorboards.

"Fuck," Sean hissed, eyes scanning frantically for any sign of a basement entrance. His gaze landed on the altar, and a memory surfaced – stories of old churches with hidden chambers, secret places for priests to hide during times of persecution.

Sean vaulted over the altar, hands running along its base until he felt it – a slight unevenness, a seam where there shouldn't be one. With a grunt of effort, he pushed, and a hidden door swung open, revealing a set of stairs descending into darkness.

The scream came again, louder now, edged with desperation. Sean didn't hesitate. He plunged down the stairs, taking them two at a time, the darkness swallowing him whole.

The scene that greeted him at the bottom turned his blood to ice.

Jessy hung suspended from the ceiling, her arms wrenched above her head at an unnatural angle. Bruises mottled her skin, and blood trickled from a gash on her forehead. But her eyes – wide with terror and something else, a warning Sean couldn't quite decipher – were very much alive.

Sean moved towards her, every instinct screaming at him to get her down, to get her out. But as he neared, Jessy's eyes grew impossibly wider. She was trying to tell him something, her mouth working around the gag that muffled her words.

Too late, Sean realized his mistake.

Pain exploded across his back, a searing heat that sent him stumbling forward. He spun, muscle memory taking over as he dropped into a defensive stance.

Riley stood there, a fireball dancing in his palm, a smirk twisting his features into something cruel and unfamiliar. "Took you long enough, Drake. I was starting to think daddy dearest had kept his mouth shut after all."

Sean's mind reeled, struggling to process the sight before him. Riley – the man he'd fought beside, trained with, trusted with his life – wielding magic like it was second nature. "What the fuck, Riley? Since when do you-"

"Have magic?" Riley finished, his smirk widening. "Oh, I've always had it. Just been better at hiding it than you ever were. Your father's not the only one who can keep secrets, you know."

The casual mention of his father sent a surge of anger through Sean. "What the hell are you talking about? What deal with the Wisteria coven?"

Riley laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally in the confined space. "Come on, Sean. You can't be that naive. A million dollars to look the other way while I took care of a little succession problem. I thought it was a done deal, but apparently, Viktor still has a soft spot for his wayward son."

The words hit Sean like a physical blow. His father, involved in this mess? The idea shouldn't have surprised him, not really. But some small, childish part of him had hoped...what? That his father had changed? That their tentative reconnection meant something?

Sean pushed the hurt aside, focusing on the more immediate threat. "You're out of your fucking mind, Riley. What, you thought you could just kidnap the Wisteria heir and take over? That's not how this works."

"Isn't it?" Riley's eyes glittered with a manic light. "It's simple, really. Dear Jessy here disappears, tragic accident, very sad. I step in as the concerned family friend, help guide the grieving parents through this difficult time. And when they meet with an equally tragic end, well... someone has to take charge, don't they?"

The casual way Riley laid out his plans for multiple murders made Sean's stomach churn. This wasn't the man he'd known. Or had he ever really known Riley at all?

"And my father? The Reeds? Where do they fit into your grand plan?" Sean asked, buying time as he inched closer to Jessy.

Riley's grin was all teeth, no warmth. "Loose ends, my friend. Can't have anyone asking too many questions, can we? Your father's organization, the Reed coven – they'll all have to go. Clean slate, fresh start. A new era for Salem's magical community, with me at the helm."

"You're fucking insane," Sean spat, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "If you think I'm going to let you get away with this-"

"Let me?" Riley's laugh was sharp, dangerous. "Oh, Sean. You don't 'let' me do anything. You're just a washed-up ex-assassin playing at redemption. What are you going to do, talk me to death?"

The taunt stung, but Sean pushed the hurt aside. He had more important things to focus on. Like getting Jessy out of here alive.

In one fluid motion, Sean dropped and spun, the hidden blade in his boot slicing through the ropes binding Jessy's ankles. "Run!" he shouted, already moving to cut her wrists free.

Riley's reaction was instant. Another fireball formed in his hand, larger this time, the heat searing the air. "I don't think so," he snarled, drawing his arm back to throw.

Sean braced himself for the impact, knowing he couldn't dodge without leaving Jessy exposed. But the blow never came.

A wall of shadows erupted between them, solid as stone and twice as dark. The fireball splashed against it, dissipating in a shower of harmless sparks.

For a moment, the room was utterly silent. Then Riley's voice, low and dangerous: "Looks like daddy's boy still has some tricks up his sleeve after all."

Sean's heart raced, adrenaline and the rush of using his long-dormant powers making him light-headed. He pushed through it, focusing on freeing Jessy. "I said run," he growled, slicing through the last of her bonds.

Jessy didn't need to be told twice. She bolted for the stairs, her bare feet slapping against the stone floor.

"Now then," Sean said, turning to face Riley fully. The shadows writhed around him, responding to his will in a way they hadn't in years. It felt right. Natural. Like coming home after a long absence. "Where were we?"

Riley's eyes narrowed, all pretense of amusement gone. "You're making a mistake, Sean. You could have been part of this. We could have ruled Salem together, shaped it into something greater."

"Greater?" Sean scoffed, disgust coloring his tone. "You mean more corrupt. More violent. No thanks. I've seen where that path leads, Riley. It ends in blood and regret."

"Always the martyr," Riley sneered. "Fine. Have it your way. But don't think this changes anything. You're still the same killer you've always been, Sean. No amount of playing hero will change that."

Riley's words hit Sean like a physical blow, stirring up the ghosts of his past that he'd been trying so hard to outrun. For a split second, doubt crept in, threatening to paralyze him. Was Riley right? Was he just playing at being a hero, pretending he could wash the blood from his hands?

But then Sean saw the manic gleam in Riley's eyes, the twisted sneer that spoke of a man so far gone he couldn't see his own madness. And in that moment, Sean knew. He might never fully atone for his past, but he sure as hell wasn't the same as this monster before him.

"Maybe you're right," Sean growled, shadows coiling around his fists. "Maybe I'll always be a killer. But at least I'm trying to be better. What's your excuse?"

Riley's face contorted with rage, all pretense of control evaporating. "I don't need excuses!" he roared, his hands erupting into flames. "I'm going to reshape this city, and if I have to burn it to the ground first, so be it!"

The first fireball came screaming towards Sean's face, so fast he barely had time to duck. The heat seared his skin as it passed, singeing his hair and leaving the acrid smell of smoke in its wake. Sean rolled, coming up in a crouch as another flaming projectile smashed into the spot he'd just vacated.

"Fuck," Sean muttered, his eyes darting around the room for any advantage. The basement was a deathtrap, all enclosed spaces and flammable materials. He needed to get out, to draw Riley into the open where he'd have more room to maneuver.

But Riley wasn't giving him a chance to breathe, let alone strategize. Fireballs rained down in a relentless barrage, each one harder to dodge than the last. Sean's shadows provided some protection, absorbing the worst of the heat, but he could feel his energy draining with each passing second.

"What's wrong, Sean?" Riley taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "Feeling a little out of practice? Maybe if you hadn't been wasting your time playing underground fighter, you might actually be a challenge!"

Sean gritted his teeth, frustration and exhaustion warring within him. Riley was right about one thing – he was out of practice.

As another fireball whizzed past his ear, an idea struck. The flames, as deadly as they were, cast shadows. And shadows... shadows were his domain.

Sean's lips curved into a grim smile. "Thanks for the light show, asshole," he muttered. "Let's see how you like this."

With a surge of will, Sean reached out to the flickering shadows cast by Riley's flames. They responded eagerly, twisting and writhing at his command. Sean shaped them into razor-sharp tendrils, sending them lashing out towards Riley.

Riley's eyes widened in surprise as the shadow-blades sliced through the air. He dodged, but not quite fast enough. A tendril caught him across the cheek, leaving a thin line of blood in its wake.

"You little shit," Riley snarled, his hand coming up to touch the cut. "You think your parlor tricks can stop me?"

But Sean wasn't listening. He was already moving, using the momentary distraction to close the distance between them. He dove into one of the larger shadows cast by a fallen beam, feeling the familiar cold embrace as it enveloped him.

For a heartbeat, Sean existed everywhere and nowhere, his consciousness spread thin across the network of shadows in the room. Then, with a thought, he coalesced behind Riley, emerging from the darkness like an avenging spirit.

"Surprise, motherfucker," Sean growled, his fist already swinging towards Riley's exposed back.

But Riley was faster than Sean had given him credit for. He spun, a manic grin splitting his face. "You think it was that easy to get rid of me?" he cackled. "You thought wrong."

Before Sean's punch could connect, Riley vanished in a puff of smoke. Sean's fist whistled through empty air, throwing him off balance.

"Shit," Sean hissed, spinning around, trying to locate his opponent. "Since when can you fucking teleport?"

Riley's disembodied laugh echoed through the basement. "Oh, Sean. There's so much you don't know about me. So much you never bothered to learn."

Sean's eyes darted around the room, every sense on high alert. Where was he? Where would he-

The air in front of Sean shimmered, and suddenly Riley was there, mere inches from his face. Time seemed to slow as Sean registered the massive fireball forming between Riley's palms, far larger than any he'd conjured before.

"Goodbye, Sean,” Riley sneered.

The fireball slammed into Sean's chest with the force of a freight train. He flew backward, crashing through rotten wood and crumbling stone. Pain exploded through every nerve ending as he tumbled, unable to tell up from down.

When Sean finally skidded to a stop, he found himself lying on his back, staring up at the night sky. Somehow, the force of the blast had propelled him all the way out of the basement and through the church's main floor. Smoke billowed around him, and he could hear the ominous creaking of weakened support beams.

"Get up," Sean wheezed, forcing air into his burning lungs. "Get the fuck up, you idiot."

He staggered to his feet, every movement sending fresh waves of agony through his battered body. The church was fully engulfed now, flames licking hungrily at centuries-old wood. The heat was oppressive, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.

Sean stumbled towards what he hoped was the exit, but a thunderous crack from above stopped him in his tracks. He looked up just in time to see a massive wooden beam plummeting towards his head.

"Fuck!" Sean dove to the side, feeling the whoosh of displaced air as the beam crashed to the floor beside him. But his victory was short-lived. More debris rained down, cutting off his escape route.

Panic clawed at Sean's throat as he realized he was trapped. The flames pressed in on all sides, hungrily devouring everything in their path. Smoke filled his lungs, making him cough and gag. His magic, so eager to respond earlier, felt sluggish and weak.

But as the flames drew closer, as Sean prepared himself for the end, something miraculous happened. The fire directly in front of him began to flicker and die, as if being sucked away by an invisible force.

"What the-" Sean squinted through the smoke, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

And then he saw her. Jessy, battered and bleeding but very much alive, stood in the doorway of the church. Her hands were outstretched, face contorted with effort as she manipulated the flames.

"I can't... hold it... long," Jessy gasped, her voice strained. "Run!"

Sean didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted towards the opening Jessy had created, ignoring the screaming protest of his injuries. Just as he reached her, Jessy's strength gave out. She crumpled forward, and Sean caught her in his arms as the inferno roared back to life behind them.

Together, they stumbled out into the cool night air. Sean's legs gave out, and they collapsed onto the dew-damp grass a safe distance from the burning church. For a long moment, they just lay there, gulping in clean air and watching the flames consume what was left of the building.

"You came back," Sean finally managed, his voice rough from smoke inhalation. "Why?"

Jessy turned her head to look at him, a wry smile tugging at her split lip. "Couldn't let my rescuer become barbecue, could I? Besides, I owed you one."

Sean let out a bark of laughter that quickly turned into a coughing fit. "Fair enough. Thanks for saving my ass."