Since I’ve been running a bit late on Oathbreaker, I thought I’d give you a sample chapter to whet your interest. Let me know what you think! You can preorder it HERE.
Oathbreaker — Chapter One
When I met Odin again, I knew I’d need a bigger can of whup-ass. If I managed to survive the army of fallen angels or Watchers, as they called themselves.
Standing in the cavern where Fenrir, the Wolf of Ragnarok, had laid stricken with venom from the Mayan feathered serpent god, Kukulkan, made me realized how fucked up my life was. Everything had been going more or less according to plan until Sigrún, one of Odin’s Valkyries, had betrayed me. She decided to turn the Wolf of Ragnarok back over to Odin, even though I had told her and Odin that I had a plan. Apparently they didn’t trust me enough to at least listen and try it.
Now, all they did was delay Ragnarok, instead of maybe avoiding it altogether. And Kukulkan bit my werewolf girlfriend and her mother, injecting them with powerful venom. My friends, Elryn, the Light Elf and Tuzren, the demon, had transported them out of there before the Watchers could kill them.
Now, I turned in time to see the Watchers rush toward me with their flaming swords drawn. Usually, a Normal person would’ve freaked out and begged for mercy. After all, it’s not every day you get to see bat-winged, albinos with fiery swords and automatic weapons. But, I’m not a Normal, or a person without magic.
My name is Officer Robert “Bob” Ironspell-Cabas, a Denver cop, although most of my friends call me Ironspell, and that’s the name I go by. I’ve been hesitant to call myself a wizard—or a mage, as the stuck-up magic users call themselves—but I’ve been slinging around spells like a fairy grabbing doughnuts on a three-day sugar buzz. In other words, saying I’m not a wizard no longer cuts it. I’m just not the best wizard out there, and as my Dark Elf relatives like to point out, I’m not that well-trained. But, at least I’m housebroken.
So, when the Watchers came blasting into the cavern looking for Fenrir and instead got me, they were understandably upset. I recognized two of them almost immediate: Azazel and Samyaza. The two fallen angels looked both beautiful and menacing as they half flew, half ran towards me. The Watchers looked much as they had when they were part of the Heavenly Host, except they now had bat wings instead of feathers, and their furrowed brows and menacing glares told me all I needed to know. They were pissed.
Azazel’s title was commander of the Watchers, and his white hair was only outdone by his almost translucent skin. Samyaza’s black hair contrasted with the same pale skin. Both were intensely beautiful, but both held haughty and arrogant expressions which marred their faces. They wore fatigues and battle armor in the style you’d see on any GI. As they rounded the corner on me, I cast a shield, hoping to buy enough time to create a portal and get the hell out of Dodge. Except I wasn’t in Dodge.
I was in Montana, somewhere in the wilderness far away from help. So, I tore open a Gateway to Denver and dove towards it. At that moment, I saw what I would call “Dark Force Lightning”—you know, that black and purple lightning that came from Emperor Palpatine’s hands?—hit my Gateway and it snapped shut. I slammed headfirst into the cavern’s wall.
You know how in old cartoons they’d show stars or little birds flying around someone’s head? Seeing stars isn’t exactly like that, but it’s close. More like my vision went tunneled with flashes of lights. The only reason why I didn’t go unconscious was I had my hands out in front of me. And that fucking hurt. Big time.
What hurt infinitely worse was Samyaza grabbing me by the neck and hauling me to my feet, a la Darth Vader. Apparently it was a Star Wars day. I could only wish for A New Hope.
“Where is Fenrir?” the Watcher demanded.
“There are no plans. We’re on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan,” I squeaked. Yeah, witty, I know.
Another Watcher came around from the interior of the cave. I didn’t seem to recall him disappearing. “There’s no one else here. Whoever was here is gone.”
“Acknowledged.” Azazel stood beside Samyaza and leered at me. “So, where did you put the Wolf? Did you bring him to your home?”
“Errrrh…nerrrh…” I gasped for breath.
“Set him down but hold onto him. We won’t get our answers from a dead man.” Azazel looked at me with a calculating expression.
Samyaza looked askance at his leader, but lowered me down until my feet touched the ground. I breathed in as the pressure around my trachea subsided. “I don’t…have…him…” I panted.
“No? Then, kill him.” Azazel turned around to bark orders at the other Watchers.
“But, I know…where…” I began before Samyaza’s fingers tightened on my throat.
“Wait.” Azazel raised a finger. The pressure stopped. “You know where the Wolf of Ragnarok is?” I nodded. “Tell me, then.”
I stayed silent until Samyaza removed his hand from my throat. I coughed a few times. “Why should I tell you? You’ll kill me after you get the information.”
Azazel nodded. “Very shrewd. But I’ll kill you anyway because I think you’re bluffing.”
“Go ahead. Even if you figure out where he is, you’ll never be able to get to him without my help.” I shook my head.
Samyaza reached for me, but hit the shield I silently constructed after Samyaza moved back. Azazel screamed and charged me, but I threw my own version of Force lightning at him. Mentally, I decided to call it “wizard lightning” since I wasn’t working for the Dark Side.
Azazel lit up like a Fae firestorm. The lightning knocked him backwards unceremoniously on his ass and lit his wings on fire. The stench of burning bat wing was enough to make me gag.
I thought I knew what a pissed off demon looked like. I had Tuzren, who was a daemon, technically, though every wizard and mage I knew called his kind demons. Daemons are creatures from other planes of existence and not in the general Nine Worlds—or Nine Universes. The Watchers, aka the Fallen Angels, aka the Judeo-Christian demons were nothing like angry Tuzren. Tuzren, when pissed off, was scary; the Watchers, however, were positively terrifying.
“Kill him!” Azazel shouted and his skin grew red and burst into flame. All at once, the two dozen or so Watchers that assembled around me attacked.