Phoenix Born Read online

  Phoenix Born

  Book One of the Jacob Graves Series

  Sean Stone

  Also by Sean Stone

  Jacob Graves Series

  Phoenix Born

  Arcane Inc.

  Warlock for Hire

  Warlock Wanted

  Dark Warlock

  Warlock At War

  Dead Warlock

  Undead Warlock

  Eddie Lancaster Volume 1: Books 1-3

  Eddie Lancaster Volume 2: Books 4-6

  The Cedarstone Chronicles

  Cursed

  The Cult of Osiris

  The Ancients

  Reunion

  Abomination

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Subscribe

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Sean Stone

  This one’s for GW,

  for reasons I cannot say.

  Ooh, if the dedication’s this cryptic the rest of the book must be amazing!

  Chapter One

  I approached the house silently, using magic to pull the shadows around me and cloak my figure. Anybody about would see only shadows where I stood. Magic was easy in urban areas, there were plenty of energy sources, plenty of places to draw power to convert into magic. Kagen Payne lived a little out of the way, but there were still plenty of energy sources. His own ridiculously large house provided me with plenty of resources to churn into spells. Spells which I would use against him. His huge house was about to become his tomb.

  He deserved it. Trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I did not kill anybody who didn’t deserve it. I was a hired killer but I was a hired killer with a code. It’s a strange concept I know. All jobs were vetted extensively before I agreed to take them. Only if the target deserved to die did I accept the contract. I’ve turned down plenty of jobs over the years.

  Kagen Payne was tonight’s target. His house being on the outskirts of Ashford was beneficial to me. It was isolated and secluded. I could make as much noise as I liked and nobody would come snooping around. Not that I intended to make much noise. That wasn’t my style. I dealt death swiftly and soundlessly. Unless the client requested otherwise. This one had not. The only request was that the victim knew who had come for him.

  The Wraith.

  That was the name I went by when I was killing. I was no longer Jacob Graves, the nightclub owner from Sangford. I was the cold, merciless killer that stalked the shadows and delivered inescapable death. Dramatic, I know, but in my line of work drama sells. I didn’t become the deadliest supernatural assassin on this side of the Atlantic by being modest.

  I moved across the driveway to where Kagen’s motorbike was standing; a red Victory Octane. I concentrated on the battery that I assumed was housed beneath the seat — not that it mattered. I called to the energy that coursed through it. Then I pulled every drop of power out of the battery and into myself where I converted it into magic. This served two purposes; it provided me with plenty of magic to get the job done, and more importantly, it stopped Kagen from making a getaway on his bike. Having drained his only escape route, I approached the house.

  Lights were on in one room at the front of the building. The rest of the house was dark. As I drew closer I heard the muffled sounds of a television. I crept up to the window and peeked through. Kagen was slumped on a white leather sofa, his dirty-soled feet were rested on a wooden coffee table. He was dressed only in an old pair of boxer shorts. I couldn’t really judge a man on how he chose to dress when in the privacy of his own home.

  I did find it curious that he was so underdressed. It wasn’t that hot. Although it was the middle of Summer it was actually quite a cool evening. Kagen was a pyromancer so maybe his ability to control fire made him excessively hot.

  I backed away carefully, any sudden movements might draw his attention. I stalked up to the front door and planted my palm on the wood. I closed my eyes and focused on the house. No trace of magic. It wasn’t protected with any spells or totems. Good.

  I heard the hum of an approaching car and waited for it draw closer. As the car passed the house I flicked my eyes to the lock and said, ‘Shkalt.’ The locked clicked and the door opened a crack the sound hidden by the passing car. I slipped inside quickly and pushed the door closed behind me, using the remnants of the sound from the passing car to mask my movements.

  I stood still on the inside of the house waiting to see if I’d alerted my mark in anyway. No sound of movement came from the living room. I was safe.

  The door to the living room was ajar, orange light was shining out across the laminate flooring. I would need to neutralise Kagen quickly. If I wasn’t fast then he’d start throwing fire around and then everything would be more difficult. The longer the fight went on for the more chance there was of drawing attention. I knew from the research files that Kagen was not subtle or restrained. In a fight he would throw everything he had at me without thinking about the consequences. He didn’t care about drawing attention or hurting innocent bystanders. He didn’t care who got hurt, or who died. Killing meant nothing to him. That was why I was here.

  It was showtime.

  I exerted my magic into the room and lowered the temperature. As the room grew colder the windows began to fog over. Kagen drew his arms closer to his body and when he opened his mouth a small cloud of mist emerged. His eyes narrowed in suspicion and then the brown irises glowed orange. He rose from the sofa slowly and looked about him curiously, looking for the source of the sudden coldness.

  ‘Whoever you are, you’re making a stupid mistake,’ he said quietly.

  I sent shadows crawling across the walls around him, dimming the light and inching the room into semi-darkness. Kagen now stood in the only lit up part of the room, everything around him was shrouded in shadow. He glanced around the room, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t seem frightened. Not yet.

  I touched my fingers to the door and creaked open with the slowness you only saw in horror movies. Then I entered the room. Kagen’s eyes found me standing in the darkness at the edge of the room. But he didn’t Jacob Graves, he saw the Wraith. I projected a magical facade for my victims. What he saw was a tall gangling creature seemingly made of the shadows that clung to me from the edges of the room. My face was a twisted, sunken monstrosity, pale and lifeless. Razor teeth lined my lips and huge haunted eyes stared out at my victim.

  I didn’t put on this show for all my targets but the client had requested the full terrifying Wraith. He wanted Kagen to die filled with fear.

  ‘Kagen Payne,’ I said. My voice was a screeching howl.

  He stared at me dumbly and then his lips stretched into an unbelievable smile. ‘Wow, talk about overkill!’ He said and then let out a high-pitched bellow of laughter.

  I didn’t know how to respond to that. They never laughed at the Wraith.

  ‘My evening just perked up,
’ he said. He extended the fingers of his right hand and in his palm a burst of flame appeared.

  I cast my hand forwards. ‘Himas!’ I shouted in a rasping hiss and a stream of ice blue magic flew across the room at him. My spell fell over his fire like a blanket of snow and snuffed the life from his flames. Bizarrely that made him chuckle again as he brought up his other hand.

  ‘Rabole!’ I shouted and he was blasted across the room. His back crashed into the wall that had the sixty-inch televisions fixed to it. Kagen thumped to the floor and the television smashed down on top of him, cracking as the screen broke on his back.

  I stepped further into the room to look down on my fallen foe.

  He groaned and pushed the television off his back. He raised his unfrozen hand and I froze that one too, hoping that he needed his hands to summon fire.

  ‘Your pyromancy won’t work on me. I’m not as feeble as your other victims,’ I said. I stood in the centre of the room and watched as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He slumped back against the wall, knowing that I had him beaten. I liked it when they were smart enough not to fight back.

  ‘Pyromancy,’ he scoffed with a derisive laugh. He looked up at me, orange eyes gleaming with a smugness that I didn’t understand. ‘Who are you?’

  I pulled out a small object and placed it on the coffee table where he had a clear view of it. It was a small pewter totem. A tombstone with a clawed angel crouched on its top. I left one at every job I completed, unless the client didn’t want people to know the mark had been assassinated. The smile fell from his face taking the smugness with it.

  ‘The Wraith,’ he said in a whisper. Still there was no fear. He seemed awed by me but not afraid. Not everybody feared death. I had encountered several targets in my career who hadn’t been scared of dying.

  I nodded.

  He drew in a deep breath and then let it out heavily. ‘Do we need all the theatrics? I think you’ve made your point,’ he said. He was right. It wasn’t like he was going to be walking away now so there was no harm in dropping the illusion. I released the magic and Kagen gazed upon my true face.

  ‘Who hired you?’ he asked.

  ‘Your father-in-law. He wasn’t too happy about you killing his daughter.’

  ‘I was not charged for that murder.’

  ‘Because there was no evidence the police could use. I’m not the police. There was more than enough evidence for me. And she wasn’t your first victim, was she? You’ve killed before. Many times. But your father-in-law doesn’t know about the others. He only cares about his daughter. You killed her for the money, correct?’ The client wanted a confession before I killed him.

  ‘Well that was the only reason I married her,’ he said with a cruel sneer.

  ‘You’re awfully smug for somebody who is about to die.’

  ‘Oh, please. You can’t kill me. You think you’re the first wizard I’ve taken on? Your ice can’t smother my fire.’ He held up his blue, frozen hands and they ignited with rich glowing flames.

  My eyes widened with amazement at how effortlessly he overcame my spell. I’m not a weak wizard, he should not have been able to undo my spells so easily. Or at all for that matter.

  He began to rise. ’Well, Wraith, I’m going—‘

  ‘Morivar!’ I shouted hurriedly. Red light flashed across the room with the force of the spell that hurtled towards him. The magic made contact and his heart exploded in his chest. The fire in his hands vanished leaving only wisps of smoke behind.

  ‘Oh…’ he said feebly as his face twisted in pain and then his body collapsed heavily to the ground.

  I released a massive sigh of relief and sunk down onto the sofa. Adrenaline was already flooding through me from that brief moment of panic when he’d overcome my spells. He was a lot stronger than I’d anticipated. If I hadn’t been as quick then I would have probably been cooked. I really needed to brush up on my pyromancy knowledge. I gave myself a minute to recuperate and then I got back to work.

  I pulled my phone out and took a picture of Kagen’s corpse. His wide open eyes had reverted to being brown and despite being dead he still looked pained. The worst part of the job was having to look at the expressions on their faces. Whatever they’d been feeling, fear, pain, sadness, it was always left on their face like a photograph plastered there forever. And I actually had to take a photograph to prove I’d completed the job and receive the rest of my payment. The client only ever paid half upfront.

  I slid my phone back into my pocket and turned away from my handiwork. The job was done.

  Chapter Two

  I drove to the other side of Ashford and there I found Drew, my uncle, waiting for me in a car park outside some public toilets. He was waiting with my Maserati Quattroporte Gransport which he was shamelessly leaning against. It was like he had no idea how much it had cost me.

  ‘Job done?’ he asked as I emerged from the Audi I’d used for the job. I always used an Audio Q5 when I was the Wraith.

  ‘Don’t lean on my car,’ I scolded.

  ‘Is it?’ he repeated, not moving off of my car.

  ‘Would I be here if it wasn’t?’ I snatched the duffel bag that he was holding and strode towards the toilets. ‘Get off my car!’ I shouted over my shoulder.

  A bit of magic unlocked the toilets. Once inside, I stripped away the black jumper and trousers I’d used for the job. I hadn’t got any blood on them but you never knew what you might have picked up or left behind on a job. It paid to be cautious. I pulled on the clothes Drew had brought for me. A pair of tailored trousers, white shirt, waistcoat, and custom-designed tie. I liked to dress with a little class.

  I stuffed the kill clothes into the duffel and zipped it closed. The Wraith was done with for now. I was Jacob Graves once more.

  I strolled out of the toilets and shook my head when I saw that Drew was still leaning my car. In fact, he’d moved his backside right up the bonnet so he was practically sitting on it now. ‘One of these days…’ I warned him.

  ‘Get on with it,’ he growled, nodding at the bag in my hand.

  ‘Sinair,’ I muttered and flames began licking away at the bag. The heat rose up warming my fingers. I pulled open the door of the Audi and tossed the fiery bag inside, slamming the door shut behind it.

  No evidence. No risks.

  The two of us went for the Maserati and Drew foolishly tried to get in the driver’s side.

  ‘Uh-uh,’ I said plucking the keys from his grip. ‘You only get to drive this baby when I’m not in it.’

  He shot me a sour look and then shrugged before climbing into the passenger’s side. I slipped into the drivers side, relishing in the luxurious feel of the cream leather seat against my back. What was the point in earning so much money if I couldn’t splash out on fancy things. Drew did not share my love of material objects. He preferred the simple life and couldn’t understand where I got my love for the lavish style.

  Drew had raised me. My father had done a runner the moment he found out my mum was pregnant. Apparently he’d decided I wasn’t good enough to be in his life before he’d even met me. My mother did her best but when I was six she’d decided she didn’t like me that much either and she killed herself. Drew said she’d done it because she was depressed. The love of her life had abandoned her and she was tired of struggling to make ends meet week after week. That made it worse in my eyes. The pain of abandonment had started off the slippery slope that was her life and she’d decided to inflict that same pain upon me when I was only six-years-old. I suppose I should be grateful really, my parents had taught me a valuable lesson early on: nobody sticks around. Everybody leaves in the end.

  Except for Uncle Drew. He had stuck around. Even after his own son had run away and got himself killed because of me. Drew was the only person to have stuck with me through everything. He was the exception to the rule. Although, the cynical part of my brain likes to remind me that he still has time to abandon me yet.

  Drew hadn’t had a lot o
f money and he lived in the Dregs, the poorest part of Sangford, the city we called home. I’d hated growing up there. It was only a few steps away from being a shanty town. Okay, that’s not true. But still, the place is awful. It’s like somebody gathered up all the poor people and all the criminals and dumped them in one grotty place together. I still hate the place now. I only go there if I absolutely have to, which luckily isn’t often. I started earning good money from the contracts I was hired to complete, but unlike me, Drew didn’t change much about his life.

  I moved to a fancy apartment in the North End of the city, the posh part. The general rule is the farther North you go the posher the city gets. Drew didn’t stay in the Dregs, but he didn’t move far away. His flat was so small that it was roughly the size of my living room. He didn’t change his style of dress, he stuck with the cheap jeans and chequered shirts. He even drove a Golf. He could easily afford a car like mine. I couldn’t get my head around it.

  ‘Phone?’ he said, holding his hand out. I passed him the phone I’d used on the job, the only thing I hadn’t burned. I used a new phone for each job and after job was done Drew would deliver it to the client as proof of completion. What they did with it was up to them. Drew made sure there was no way it could be linked back to us.

  Drew was the organiser and the brains behind all the jobs. He met the clients and he decided which jobs we took. He had a knack for knowing when people were being dishonest. It made him perfect for vetting potential clients. He then did all the research on the mark and handed it over to me. He spent weeks doing all the prep work. He purchased the cars, the clothes, the phone. All I had to do was kill people.