Forgotten in Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page B

and whispered, “Know nothing.” He cracked his lids to see if Terek-Djoser bought it.
    Terek-Djoser threw him hard against the wall and spat a string of curses.
    Cy cradled his injured arm and curled into the fetal position. He chanced an upward glance. The bastard was coming for him again.
    As a pre-mag, he was susceptible to dark magik and all the foul potions these Hashishins liked to play with. As well as their serpents…
    He saw a serpent slither from Djoser’s sleeve. Oh, gods, no . He despised the snakes . If he didn’t die from the snake’s venom, it would seriously screw him up.
    Only a fully indoctrinated magus had a natural resistance to Hashishin evil and the venom those serpents injected. He mentally sighed wahoo when the snake didn’t strike.
    But his counter spells would only work for so long before his casting was discovered.
    All that stood between the modern world and a new Dark Age with humans enslaved to this daemon was a weak, juvenile pre-mag.

Chapter Four
    The driver stomped the accelerator with all the finesse of a battering ram. The SUV lurched away from the prison with a wheel-spin sand-spit into the Colombian dusk, plastering Dakar against the back seat.
    Self-propelled carriages. Transport had changed remarkably since he was last here. In his opinion, nothing beat a fine horse, but he had to admit these cars provided a fast, smooth ride.
    He shifted to peel his sweat-soaked skin from the leather seat in the areas exposed through his shirt’s holes. The others in the car would probably be disgusted if they knew how long he’d been in these rags—over two centuries. New clothes would be a relief. But could wait.
    He returned the driver’s stare in the rearview mirror. The guy was a nervous magus with short brown hair and several small hoop rings in each ear and above one eyebrow. If the bastard didn’t quit peering at him, he’d break the mirror on his face and pluck out a few pieces of that ridiculous facial jewelry.
    He reached for seichim to evaluate the energy radiating from the two magi in the car. He knew all ten magi—their powers, their weaknesses, their women, and their idiosyncrasies.
    The pretty-boy next to him, Christian, scrolled through colorful screens on a handheld device between glances out the window. The Charmer. The vain sex addict always made the rest jealous. He could woo the habit off a nun with little more than a half smile.
    Then there was Lightning, the driver. The guy must be newly inducted. Once he got control of his ability, which always came with a high level of unpredictability in the early years, arrogant was his middle name. Instead of these shifty dart-glances he kept throwing, he would’ve challenged him to a staredown.
    Of the ten magi, neither of these two could remember the past. Each time the gods jammed their soul back into a body it was all new to them. Their past remained a blank slate. Why the gods condemned them to amnesia he’d never know, but who was he to argue with the inanity of the gods’ decisions?
    Christian ended the uncomfortable silence. “Where are we off to, Nate?”
    “Ashor texted while you were in there. Seems he’s got more than one daemon to deal with. He wants us to drop by.”
    Texted? What was that? Dakar didn’t miss the brief nervous glance Nate shot at the akhrian who sat beside him in the front . He didn’t want her to fear Ashor was in trouble.
    Christian asked, “More than one together? How can two be in the same place? They’re loners. Never heard of daemons combining forces.”
    Dakar mumbled, “Maybe they’re related.”
    “What’d you say?” Christian asked.
    “Nothing.” He turned to watch the passing streets of Cartagena. If he didn’t break away soon, he would be forced back into the fight. More daemon battles. He knew most of the selfish demonic pricks by name and hated all of them, one in particular.
    Ten minutes later with little more than a twinkling of daylight remaining, the SUV pulled