Witch’s Promise (Shadowguards #3.5)

22. Sean

Chapter 22

Sean

H is motorcycle roared to a stop at the edge of a desolate stretch of land, the address Riley had sent burning a hole in his pocket. The place looked like it had been forgotten by time itself – overgrown weeds, crumbling fences, and in the center of it all, a single wooden house that had seen better days. It stood there like some twisted parody of a homestead, all peeling paint and sagging shutters.

"Fuck me," Sean muttered, killing the engine. "Could this be any more cliché?"

He dismounted, eyes scanning the perimeter for any sign of a trap. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, which only set Sean's nerves more on edge. Riley wasn't the type to leave things to chance. This quiet, this apparent normalcy – it had to be a setup.

As Sean approached the house, he noticed something odd. The whole place was bathed in an unnaturally bright light, as if someone had cranked up the sun's intensity. But despite the abundance of illumination, there wasn't a single shadow to be seen. No dark patches under the bushes, no silhouettes cast by the decrepit fence posts. Nothing.

"Clever bastard," Sean growled, realization dawning. Riley had neutralized his shadow manipulation abilities before he'd even stepped foot on the property.

With a deep breath, Sean pushed the door open and stepped into the lion's den.

The interior of the house was a stark contrast to its dilapidated exterior. Everything was neat, orderly, almost painfully normal. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting warm light across well-polished furniture. Family photos lined the mantel, smiling faces frozen in moments of apparent domestic bliss.

It was all so goddamn wholesome that it made Sean's skin crawl.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Riley?" Sean muttered, his eyes darting from corner to corner, searching for any sign of a trap or hidden assailant.

That's when he saw it – a single drop of crimson, stark against the pristine hardwood floor. Sean's gaze snapped upward, following the path of the blood to a dark stain spreading across the ceiling.

"Shit," Sean hissed, his heart racing as he searched for a way up to the second floor. But there were no stairs, no obvious access point to whatever horrors awaited above.

Just as frustration threatened to overwhelm him, Sean's eye caught on a thin cord dangling from the ceiling. An attic access, hidden in plain sight. With trembling fingers, Sean yanked on the cord, sending a rickety wooden staircase clattering down.

He ascended quickly, every creak of the old wood setting his nerves further on edge. As Sean's head cleared the opening, the musty scent of the attic hit him like a physical blow. But it was the sight that greeted him that truly stole the breath from his lungs.

There, in the oppressive darkness of the attic, was his father. He was hung suspended from the rafters, thick ropes biting into his wrists. Blood trickled from a dozen shallow cuts, testament to the torture he'd already endured.

"Dad!" Sean gasped, rushing forward without a thought for his own safety. He reached up, fingers fumbling with the gag that had been shoved into his father's mouth.

As the cloth fell away, his father’s eyes, wild with a fear Sean had never seen in them before, locked onto his son's face. "Sean?" he croaked, his voice raw and disbelieving. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sean worked at the ropes binding his father's wrists, cursing under his breath as the knots refused to give. "What does it look like? I'm saving your ass, old man."

His father shook his head frantically, renewing his struggles against his bonds. "No, you idiot! You need to leave, now! Before Riley gets back. You don't understand what you've walked into."

The panic in his father's voice sent a chill down Sean's spine. He'd seen his dad face down rival assassins, corrupt politicians, and supernatural threats that would send most men running for the hills. To see him this shaken, this genuinely afraid...

"Dad," Sean said slowly, forcing his own rising panic down. "What's going on? What did Riley do to you?"

His father’s’s laugh was a broken, bitter thing. "It's not what he did, son. It's what he is. Riley, he's not... he's not human. Not anymore."

Before Sean could process that bombshell, a new voice cut through the darkness. Smooth, cultured, and dripping with malice.

"Now, now, Viktor. Don't go spoiling all my surprises."

The attic suddenly flooded with harsh, artificial light, momentarily blinding Sean. As his eyes adjusted, he felt his stomach drop. There, just a few feet from his father, lay two more bodies. His brain took a moment to process what he was seeing, but when it did, the realization hit him like a freight train.

"Fuck me," Sean breathed, recognizing the unconscious forms of Caroline and Dexter Wisteria. Their clothes were torn and bloodied, evidence of the torture they'd endured. "What the hell have you done, Riley?"

Before he could move towards them, a hand fisted in his hair, yanking his head back painfully. Sean found himself staring into Riley's eyes, now glowing with an unnatural, predatory light.

"Tsk, tsk, Sean," Riley purred, his breath hot against Sean's ear. "I told you to bring the girl. And yet, here you are, all alone. What are you playing at? Do you really want these people to die?"

Anger and desperation surged through Sean. Using every ounce of training his father had drilled into him, he twisted out of Riley's grip, ignoring the burning pain as hair tore from his scalp. He lashed out with a vicious elbow strike, catching Riley in the solar plexus.

The blow should have doubled Riley over, but the man barely flinched. Instead, he grinned, revealing teeth that were just a bit too sharp to be human. "Oh, Sean. Is that really the best you can do?"

Sean stumbled back, his mind racing. This wasn't right. Riley had always been tough, but this... this was something else entirely. As Sean's back hit the wall, he felt something warm and sticky. Glancing down, he saw a gash in his side that he didn't remember getting. Blood seeped through his shirt, staining the fabric a deep crimson.

"Shit," Sean muttered, pressing a hand to the wound. How had Riley moved that fast? And when had he gotten a weapon?

His father’s voice, strained and desperate, cut through Sean's confusion. "Sean, run! You don't understand what he is now. He'll kill you!"

But Sean couldn't run. Not with his father and the Wisterias at Riley's mercy. He had to try, had to do something to stop this madness.

With a roar of defiance, Sean charged at Riley. He threw everything he had into a flurry of punches and kicks, each one honed by years of brutal training. But Riley dodged them all with inhuman grace, moving as if he could predict Sean's attacks before he even made them.

"Is this really all the great Sean Drake has to offer?" Riley taunted, effortlessly sidestepping another punch. "I expected more from Viktor's prized pupil."

Frustration and fear clawed at Sean's insides. He needed an edge, something to turn the tide of this one-sided fight. Instinctively, he reached for the shadows, trying to bend them to his will as he'd done countless times before.

But there was nothing. The attic, so brightly lit now, offered no refuge of darkness for Sean to manipulate. Riley had planned this perfectly, stripping Sean of his greatest weapon.

"Looking for these?" Riley asked, gesturing lazily. To Sean's horror, the few shadows cast by the attic's sparse furniture began to writhe and twist, coalescing around Riley like a living shroud. "I'm afraid they answer to me now, old friend."

Desperation lending him strength, Sean feinted left before pivoting into a brutal roundhouse kick. For a moment, it seemed like Riley had finally slipped up. The kick connected solidly with the side of his head, the impact sending Riley flying into the far wall with a sickening crack.

Sean's moment of triumph was short-lived. Before he could even lower his leg, Riley was on his feet again, looking no worse for wear despite the blow that should have shattered his skull.

Sean's brief moment of triumph evaporated as Riley twisted his head back into place with a sickening crack. The casual display of inhuman resilience sent a chill down Sean's spine, his mind reeling as he struggled to process what he'd just witnessed.

"What the fuck are you?" Sean breathed, unable to keep the horror from his voice.

Riley's smile widened, revealing teeth that were now decidedly sharper than any human's had a right to be. "Well," he purred, "I thought you'd never ask."

Before Sean's eyes, Riley's form began to shift. Dark smoke enveloped him, writhing and pulsing with an otherworldly energy. As it dissipated, the creature that emerged bore little resemblance to the man Sean had once known.

Riley's skin had taken on a deep crimson hue, his body now corded with inhuman musculature. Curved horns protruded from his forehead, gleaming wickedly in the harsh attic light. But it was the tail that really caught Sean's attention – long and sinuous, ending in a heart-shaped tip that seemed to pulse with its own malevolent life.

"Jesus Christ," Sean muttered, backing away instinctively. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Riley's laugh echoed through the room, a sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Oh, I assure you, this is no joke," he said, his voice now carrying an otherworldly resonance. "You see, our dear Caroline here made a rather desperate attempt to bring back her dearly departed son."

As he spoke, Riley sauntered over to where Caroline lay unconscious. He trailed a long, talon-like fingernail along her cheek, the gesture almost tender if it wasn't so utterly terrifying.

"Unfortunately for her," Riley continued, "the spell went a bit... sideways. Instead of dragging junior back from the great beyond, she opened a door for something else entirely. Something far more interesting."

Sean's mind raced, trying to process the implications of what Riley was saying. A summoning gone wrong? A demon taking over Riley's body? It sounded like something out of a bad horror movie, and yet the evidence was standing right in front of him, grinning with far too many teeth.

"A fire demon," Riley concluded, spreading his arms wide as if presenting himself for inspection. "Quite an upgrade from the sniveling little sycophant I used to be, don't you think?"

The casual way Riley spoke about his transformation, about the violation of his very being, made Sean's stomach churn. But beneath the horror and disgust, a spark of anger began to kindle. This bastard, demon or not, had hurt his father. Had dragged innocent people into whatever sick game he was playing.

"You know what?" Sean growled, falling into a fighting stance. "I'm getting real fucking tired of your monologuing. How about we skip to the part where I kick your ass back to whatever hell you crawled out of?"

Riley's eyes widened in mock surprise before he burst into laughter. "Oh, Sean. Your bravado is adorable, truly. But do you really think you stand a chance against me? In this form?"

Sean didn't bother with a verbal response. Instead, he launched himself at Riley, leading with a vicious right hook. His fist connected solidly with Riley's jaw, the impact sending shockwaves up Sean's arm. It felt like punching a brick wall.

Riley's head snapped to the side, but the blow seemed to cause him no real discomfort. "Come now," he chided, casually backhanding Sean across the room. "Is that really the best you can do?"

Sean slammed into the far wall, the air driven from his lungs in a painful whoosh. He struggled to his feet, spitting blood onto the dusty floorboards. "I'm just getting started, asshole."

The next few minutes were a blur of frantic action. Sean threw everything he had at Riley – every dirty trick, every killing blow his father had ever taught him. But it was like fighting smoke. Riley moved with inhuman speed and grace, always just out of reach, always one step ahead.

"You know," Riley mused as he effortlessly dodged another of Sean's attacks, "I'm almost disappointed. I expected more of a challenge from Viktor's prized pupil."

The casual mention of his father's name sent a fresh surge of rage through Sean. With a roar of defiance, he feinted left before pivoting into a brutal knee strike aimed at Riley's solar plexus.

For a moment, it seemed like the blow might actually land. But at the last second, Riley's tail whipped around, wrapping around Sean's leg and yanking him off balance. Sean hit the ground hard, the impact driving what little air remained from his lungs.

"That's more like it," Riley purred, looming over Sean's prone form. "A bit of creativity, a touch of desperation. It suits you, Sean."

Sean rolled away, scrambling back to his feet. His body screamed in protest, a catalog of injuries making themselves known with each movement. But he couldn't stop. Couldn't give up. Not with his father and the Wisterias still in danger.

"Fuck you," Sean spat, blood and saliva staining his chin. "I'm not done yet."

Riley's smile was almost fond, like a teacher proud of a particularly stubborn student. "Oh, I know. That's what makes this so much fun."

The fight, if it could even be called that anymore, dragged on. Sean threw himself at Riley again and again, each attack more desperate than the last. But nothing seemed to faze the demon. Blows that should have shattered bones barely drew a flinch. Strikes that would have disemboweled a normal man left nothing but shallow scratches that healed almost instantly.

And all the while, Riley taunted him. Mocked his efforts, his weakness, his pathetic human frailty. It was like he was toying with Sean, drawing out the fight for his own sick amusement.

"Do you want to know the best part?" Riley asked as he casually batted aside another of Sean's attacks. "Your father knew. He knew what I was, what I was planning. And he did nothing to stop it."

The words hit Sean like a physical blow, momentarily stunning him. "You're lying," he growled, but there was a flicker of doubt in his voice.

Riley's grin widened, sensing weakness. "Am I? Why don't you ask him yourself? Oh wait, you can't. Because you were too weak, too slow to save him. Just like you're too weak to save yourself now."

Something inside Sean snapped. With a wordless howl of rage and pain, he hurled himself at Riley one last time. He poured every ounce of strength, every scrap of skill he had left into this final, desperate attack.

For a brief, shining moment, it seemed like it might actually work. Sean's fist connected solidly with Riley's face, the impact strong enough to snap the demon's head back. But before Sean could press his advantage, Riley's tail lashed out, catching him across the chest with devastating force.

Sean flew backward, crashing through the rickety attic railing and plummeting to the floor below. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, pain exploding through every nerve ending. As he lay there, struggling to breathe through what were almost certainly broken ribs, Sean heard Riley's mocking laughter from above.

"Oh, Sean," the demon called down, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Did you really think it would be that easy? That you could defeat a being like me with your pathetic human strength?"

Sean tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out, sending him crashing back to the floor. Blood pooled beneath him, seeping from wounds he couldn't even begin to catalog. His vision swam, darkness creeping in at the edges.

As consciousness began to slip away, Sean's thoughts turned to Gabe. To the life they might have had if things had been different. To all the words left unsaid between them.

"I'm sorry," Sean whispered, his voice barely audible even to his own ears. "I'm so fucking sorry, Gabe. I tried."