A Murder of Wizards: Armageddon Angels, #1.2

By Eric Swett

Apocalypse Rising: A Murder of Wizards is an Urban Fantasy about a fallen Angel named Justin. He just happens to be one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, the Grim Reaper himself, Death. Two years have passed since he remembered who he was and what he is. He is regaining  abilities and memories he lost when he chose to fall to earth and live among humans, but he has a long way to go before he can fully reclaim his title. When Justin is asked by a friend to investigate a string of supernatural murders he can't say no. Justin discovers he has a connection to the murders and has to find the murderer before their plans come to fruition.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eric Swett
• Release date: Dec 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223357919

Eric Swett

Eric Swett is a husband and father. He has a beautiful wife named Tracy and three fabulous children (Zachary, Connor, and Kaitlyn). Between the four of them, he has absolutely everything he really needs in this world. If everything else went away and he still had them, he could die and count himself a fortunate man. He works in IT, streams video games, and dabbles in 3D printing. He is a self-proclaimed Geek and does not adhere to a single form of geekdom. He likes roleplaying games, tabletop games with painted miniatures, video games, comic books, science fiction and fantasy, Star Wars, Star Trek, and Doctor Who. 

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Don’t look. Justin turned and pulled Lilly to him. He tried to shield her from the gore splattered about the alley. The copper stink of fresh blood assaulted them as they stood across the street from the scene. As the Grim Reaper, eons of death dulled the impact for Justin. He wanted to keep Lilly from it if possible. 

I can’t. Lilly looked away, but it did not help. Despite being blind, the murder shone in vivid technicolor to her. Being Justin's Oracle gave her sight far beyond what any normal person enjoyed. 

The pull of death drew her attention, and in her mind's eye, the scene coalesced as clearly as if she stared at it. The violence and butchery lit the aura surrounding the dead body in angry tones of black and red that shone like a spotlight upon the murder.

She placed her hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting. 

The splayed open corpse's entrails hung about the alley. The smashed kidneys hung from the side of a dumpster. The lungs sat in a pile against the alley wall. The liver dripped blood into a shallow pool beside the corpse. The buzzing of flies grew louder as the dead man's evacuated bowels drew them to the feast. 

The callous mess made of another human left her uneasy.

She wanted to block it out, bury her head in Justin’s chest, and flee the scene. She tried to look away, but ancient instinct forced her to bear witness to the death of a fellow human. Her instincts buzzed with warning. Her palms sweated, and her lips trembled. A predator lurked nearby, and she needed to be aware.

Lilly. Justin put an arm around her shoulders and turned her back to the horrific scene playing out in the alley. It’s okay. I’ve got you.

Justin wanted to go home and leave it all behind them. Lilly wanted to know what happened and needed him to tell her so she did not have to face it alone. The closer they got to it, the more apparent the full extent of the horror became.

What...what is it? What happened, Justin? Lilly held onto him tightly, seeking comfort in his strength.

He apprised the situation with a practiced stare. His experience on earth gave him some insight, but his familiarity with death brought everything into focus. He scratched at the stubble on his chin as he considered the dead man. Looks like a sacrifice of some sort, a ritual, but not one I’ve seen before. Doesn’t appear demonic, but it could be part of a summoning. Maybe something geographical...

Can we go? I don’t like the way this feels. There is something wrong about this. I can't put my finger on it, but there is something dark here. It's tickling my senses, tempting me, drawing me toward it like an inevitable conclusion. She turned her back on the scene and shuddered.

Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure. Let’s get out of here. Justin guided Lilly away from the murder. Justin held her hand gently as they walked. Sorry about that. Hazard of the profession. As the Angel of Death, I've seen a lot of corpses. It’s not every day you come across something this unusual.

Police cars and a gathering crowd of onlookers blocked their dwindling view of the site as they headed home. She moved away from him and glanced at a dark alcove in an otherwise unbroken wall. She pointed at the space with a trembling finger. Something is in there. I don’t know what it is, Justin, but the aura...it’s like the alley.

Justin frowned as he glanced back from where they had come. He stared at the alcove. Water dripped from the end of a pipe near the ground, and the space smelled of mildew and stale piss. He stepped toward the dark indentation and moved Lilly behind him. Can you tell what it is, Lilly?

She focused her attention but only came away with feelings of dread and the same red and black energy that covered the crime in the alley. No. I can only tell it has something to do with the killing. Sometimes not having eyes sucks. She hesitated momentarily as her sight sifted through the shifting sensations drawing her attention. I think it's on the ground. I’m not sure, but I think we were meant to find it.

That’s not good, Justin drawled as he drew closer to the darkness. 

Being the immortal incarnation of Death drew plenty of attention from the supernatural world. If the regular people of the city knew he walked their streets, it would only add to their problems. I would much prefer it that people not even know we exist, much less leave us gruesome murder scenes and... He reached into the darkened alcove, moved aside some piss-soaked old newspaper, and pulled out the one thing of interest. ...Flowers?

They left a flower? Lilly asked. What kind?

He understood immediately that she was correct. It was meant for them. The purple and white blossom had three leaves inside of three leaves; it was a lily. Whoever placed it there told them they knew Lilly. Whether they recognized her as his Oracle, his lover, or both only mattered in figuring out who was responsible. No matter the answer, it bothered Justin immensely.

Justin, what kind of flower is it? Lilly asked impatiently. Her voice quivered. Her mouth went dry. She clutched at the fabric of her skirt. 

He stuck it in the middle pocket of his black hoodie. You know what kind of flower it is, he said quietly. 

As his Oracle, Lilly was his eye on the future and often his present. He was a Horseman, one of the four Riders of the Apocalypse, yet he chose to take a mortal as his lover. Such a thing was not unheard of, but it added levels of complication most lovers did not have to deal with.

So, this was a message, but was it meant for me? she whispered.

I don’t know. Maybe. I think whoever did this wanted me to understand that they knew you. It feels like a threat. He shook his head and pulled her close. He hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. He felt her trembling in his arms and hated that she was in this position. 

Justin laughed humorlessly and pulled back a little so she saw his smile. I'm probably making something out of nothing. It's probably a coincidence.

You don’t believe in coincidences. Lilly elbowed him in the ribs.

I could be wrong, you know. If it all turned out to be a series of coincidences and I learned to accept them for what they are, our lives would be easier, he said as they continued walking home.

Lilly smiled and leaned her shoulder into his arm. We could try it. We could ignore all of this and move far away.

I wish we could. Justin sighed. I’m afraid all of this would follow me around anyway. You could leave if you wanted. You would still see things, not necessarily good things, but there would be less danger.

What fun would it be if I did not have you with me? She bumped him with her shoulder and smiled impishly.

They walked hand in hand until they reached the alley that hid the path to their home. Justin felt a buzzing in his jeans pocket. He pulled out an old flip phone and read the text message from Lucius. 

Tomorrow at the park. Usual spot. Noon.

He read it twice before he closed the phone. He considered the message and the timing of it. 

Another unlikely coincidence? 

Justin spent much of the last year making inroads with the local supernatural community. Some were easy. His rescue of a Fey princess the year before gave him an automatic in with the Fey and many of the Fey-friendly groups and races. Most of the mortal races shunned him outright. Two-thousand years of absence meant his reputation was a bit tarnished. The wizards of New Arcadia distrusted him because they did not control him. 

A year's worth of favors and long conversations helped him make inroads with most of the mortals and wizards, at least those still standing in the light. Some races and individuals considered him only as an enemy, an obstacle, or a tool to be used. That Lucius, a member of the Wizard Council, called him on occasion spoke volumes about his progress.

Justin considered him a friend, one of the few he had outside of the elven enclave. If he could help Lucius or the Council, then he would. The late night and the formality of the request meant bad news for someone. Probably Justin.

He let his breath out slowly as he stared at the device.

Interesting, Justin mumbled before stuffing the phone back into his pocket. Lucius is asking to have a sit-down tomorrow morning.

Lucius? From the Wizard Council? Lilly asked, and Justin nodded. I think he’s the one I liked. Isn't he the one who gave us the museum tour during the holidays? That was an interesting night. I thought a museum would be boring because I cannot see the pictures. The way he used his magic to make their aura shine was amazing.

Yeah, he’s not too bad for a wizard, Justin said with a smile. Most of the council did not like Justin living in their neighborhood. It was not personal, but wizards did not want powerful supernatural entities just hanging around unless they had control over them.

Did he say what it was about? She took his hand once more and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Justin frowned. No, but it must be urgent if he wants a face-to-face. 

Can’t be that urgent if he can wait until tomorrow, Lilly laughed.

You’re right. He’s probably being dramatic. Justin lifted a 250-pound manhole cover as if it were no heavier than a kitchen plate. The smell of untreated sewage wafted up from below. The hole in the ground led to the dark path to the elven enclave they called home. Climb on down, and we’ll hurry home. Maybe I’ll let you pick the movie tonight.

Oh, I am picking the movie, Lilly said as she climbed the ladder into the sewers. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the damp walls. Your last pick was awful.

It sounded like fun. Two guys carrying a corpse to a bunch of parties? It sounded right up my alley. He flashed a toothy grin. He followed her into the darkness beneath the streets and pulled the manhole cover back into place behind him. 

As it clanged shut, a figure stepped out from behind a filthy green dumpster across the street from the alley. He waited a moment before turning and walking away. His black tattoos writhed about his arms and neck as if alive.

Soon. Very soon, he whispered as he walked away and disappeared around a darkened corner.

CHAPTER TWO

A black and white dog ran through the park, narrowly dodging trees and circling about aimlessly before it stopped in front of the bench Justin sat upon. It put its graying muzzle on his knee and looked up at him with sad eyes. The faded blue collar around its neck was frayed about the edges. A short length of nylon cord tied through the collar's metal loop dangled down to the ground. The red tag hanging from the collar said the dog’s name was Beaker.

The hood of Justin's sweatshirt lay bunched up upon his shoulders. The warming midday sun threatened to make his choice of attire poor, but he loved his hoodies, and they made it easier for Lucius to find him. He stroked the dog's head and scratched its ears as he read the name on the collar and smiled.

Well, Beaker, what can I do for you? Justin asked as he itched beneath the dog's chin. The animal examined him and gave a slight whimper. By the look in his eyes, Justin could see this was no mere social call. Justin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He called on the Power and used it to examine the dog inside and out.

People walking by only saw him holding the dog's head with his eyes closed, but a new world of sensory input opened to Justin's eyes. The Power, commonly referred to as magic by mortals, coursed through the old dog and told Justin a story of age and hard living. At twenty years of age, nearly all his joints hurt, and his organs were on the verge of failing. Thick cataracts clouded Beaker's eyes and made him rely on his other senses to get around safely.

It won’t be much longer, Beaker. Your time is coming soon. The dog gave a happy bark and wagged his tail slowly. Let's see if we can give you a good day today. One last hurrah. Justin took the Power still present and used it to relieve some of the old dog's pain. It would not last, but at least for the day, he would feel like a new dog.

There you are, Beaker, called out a haggard teenage boy wearing a red shirt with the words NOT TODAY emblazoned across the front. His worn-down shoes and tattered jeans were less about fashion and more about extended use. Sorry, mister. He doesn’t usually run off like that. He’s a good dog and wouldn’t hurt anyone. The boy’s brown eyes pleaded with him. Bruised purple bags hung low beneath the jaundiced eyes, partially hidden by the loose mop of greasy black hair on his head.

I see that. Beaker and I have become friends while he waited for you to catch up. Justin smiled broadly, and the dog’s tongue lolled out the side of its mouth.

Thank you. The boy's shoulders relaxed, and he smiled in relief. I don’t know what got into him. We stepped foot inside the park, and he took off running. The boy stared down at his feet and scuffed them on the asphalt walking path, looking younger than his age. I must have been distracted, I guess.

Happens to all of us from time to time, Justin said before leaning back against the bench and smiling. He looked at the kid petting his dog. Hey, what’s your name?

Robert, but everyone calls me Bobby, he said as he held out his hand.

Justin took Bobby’s hand and gave it a firm shake. Nice to meet you, Bobby. My name is Justin. Though he appeared only a handful of years older than Bobby, walking the earth for a couple of thousand years granted him a certain air of authority when he didn’t focus on keeping up the façade of youth. You look hungry. Could you use a bite to eat?

Bobby’s eyes followed Justin’s hand as he pointed to a bag marked with the garish purple lettering of Ringo’s Deli. Renowned in New Arcadia for piling on extra meat, hold the salad. Ringo’s was a starving carnivore’s delight. Bobby's stomach growled and gurgled. He started to reach for the bag but pulled his hand back slowly. No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to take your lunch, the boy said, though his eyes never left the bag. 

It’s okay, kid. I brought it for a friend, and he is running late, so it is his loss. Justin smiled at Bobby and picked up the bag. He tested the weight like precious diamonds stolen in a heist film. Besides, Beaker here says you’re a good kid, and I trust Beaker implicitly. Justin smiled, grabbed the bag, and held it out to Bobby. It’s yours.

Bobby snatched the bag from Justin's hand and sat down on the bench beside him. As he opened the bag, his eyes widened at seeing the thick Reuben sandwich held together by a pair of large toothpicks. Bobby pulled the first half from the bag and considered it with rapture. He stopped to close his eyes and breath in the scent of warm corned beef and sauerkraut. He opened his eyes slowly. 

Thank you, Justin, he said as he nearly unhinged his jaw and took the first bite. He moaned in ecstasy as he chewed and swallowed that first bite. Thousand Island dressing dribbled down his chin and splashed on the bench between his legs. Beaker quickly cleaned it up with a lick before sitting and staring up at his boy. Bobby pulled a large pinch of meat from the sandwich and dropped it for Beaker. The meat barely touched the ground before the old dog gobbled it up and whimpered for more. Oh my God, this is good.

You're welcome. Justin smiled as he watched the kid eat. He was familiar with the look. Homelessness affected children as often as adults, sometimes more so, but they were less visible. The kids did their best to blend in, and it was easy with how some kids dressed. One slovenly teenager appeared the same as another unless you knew the signs.

Where are you staying, Bobby? Justin asked as the kid wiped his mouth on his sleeve and reached for the second half of the sandwich.

Under the Parkview Bridge. It stays dry there for the most part, he said with a shrug before taking another bite of Reuben.

Justin nodded. I had to stay there a time or two. The bathrooms at the gas stations there were usually pretty clean. He followed his mental map back to the bridge and frowned. That’s a bit of a haul from here, isn’t it?

Yeah, but the cops raided the bridge, busted our tents, and kicked us out. They usually watch the usual hangouts for a week before letting us back in. Bobby shrugged and gave the last of the meat to Beaker, who snapped it up as soon as Bobby presented it. He licked the last of the sandwich drippings from his finger. I figured I would take a look out this way to see if there was something better for me and Beaker here. Bobby scratched the dog’s head and smiled at his companion.

You might check out Saint Christopher’s over on Vapor Street. They have a shelter there. If you tell Father Jim that I sent you, he will let you keep Beaker inside. Justin thought highly of Father Jim as a wonderful man and an even better priest. They became friends when Justin helped evict a couple of overactive poltergeists from a parishioner’s home. Father Jim liked taking care of the hard luck cases Justin sent his way.

Are you a priest or something? Bobby asked as he regarded Justin with suspicion.

Nope, but I’ve been where you are, so I know all the best places in this part of town. I moved here a couple years ago. I don’t need the shelters anymore, but I still go there to help out occasionally. Father Jim is a good guy, Justin said as he stood up. I’ll try and swing over there before the weekend and take you to lunch.

Thank you, Bobby said before he wadded up the sack and tossed it into the nearby garbage can. I’ll check out the shelter. It might be nice to sleep indoors for a few days. He took hold of Beaker’s makeshift leash. He stood and reached toward the sky in a catlike stretch. Thanks for the sandwich too. He returned the way he came before turning and walking toward Saint Christopher’s.

See you later, Justin called out.

Yeah, sure. Bobby waved over his head lazily.

I was talking to Beaker. Justin laughed and stuck his hands in his hoody pocket. Bobby shook his head and continued on his way.

Justin watched Bobby and Beaker until they were gone. It still warmed his heart helping people out. He hoped Bobby would visit Saint Christopher’s and Father Jim. He figured it was a fifty-fifty shot that Bobby would stay at the shelter. Being accepted by Beaker and another restaurant meal might be enticing enough, but you never knew.

Wizards tended to work on their own schedule, but Lucius was usually punctual. Justin scanned the park, taking in the open grass fields crisscrossed with asphalt paths and the nature trails leading into the woods. The little patch of wilderness in the middle of the city was a favorite place for the local supernatural community to meet, and their intentions were not always pleasant. 

Memories of the battle with the ogres the year before returned, and he shuddered. He and Samantha, another angel that called the mortal world home, fought two of the monsters. They managed to protect the people in the park. It was a close thing, making him see her in a new light.

Justin sighed loudly and turned to leave when he saw Lucius waving at him further down the path. The tall, dark-skinned man walked fast enough that a single skip in his step might send him sprinting toward Justin. Sweat soaked through his blue business suit. Seconds later, Lucius stood before Justin. More specifically, he was bent over with his hands on his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. Sorry...I’m...late...Justin.

Woah there, Lucius. Have a seat. Catch your breath. I’m in no hurry, Justin said as he guided his friend to the bench. Lucius was built like he could benchpress a truck. In reality, he could barely hold some of the great tomes he used in his studies. In supernatural circles, Lucius remained a powerhouse. If he needed the truck moved, he used magic to get what he wanted.

Thank you, said Lucius as he caught his breath. The cabby dropped me off on the wrong side of the park, and I had to walk all the way here. He fanned himself with one hand while using the other to wipe away the rivulets of sweat that streamed down his face. I don’t think the tradeoff is worth it some days.

Lucius Garvey called the bargain he made as a teenager the tradeoff. After his parents died, Lucius delved into the darker studies not taught in college. A demon he summoned offered him true power in return for his strength, and Lucius accepted the deal eagerly. Gone were his days of playing football or winning fights with his fists. His first steps into the world of wizardry were torture as old enemies meted out their vengeance. Self-preservation is a powerful motivator. It did not take long for Lucius to become a powerful wizard.

Then you remember that you can deconstruct a car with a snap of your fingers, Justin said with a smile as he sat beside his friend.

Yeah, that doesn’t suck at all. Lucius laughed and slapped his knee, sending him into a coughing fit. He covered his mouth with a bright blue handkerchief with a stylized 'LG' embroidered into the center. He held up his other hand to keep Justin from trying to help. When the coughing passed, he took one last deep breath and sat up straight. Anyhow, thanks for waiting.

The universe interceded on your behalf, Justin said. I met someone new, and he kept me company until you arrived.

I don't know if that is a good thing or not. If the universe is already helping, we might be in more trouble than I thought. Lucius wiped his brow with the handkerchief again and stuck it back in his shirt pocket.

Sounds pretty ominous. I'm guessing that's why we're meeting in person, and you are running through the park? Justin turned to face the wizard sitting beside him. His smile left as quickly as it had arrived.

Remember last month when you asked the Wizard Council to keep our eyes open for anything strange around town? Well, something bad is going down, and it definitely qualifies as strange, Lucius scanned the park nervously. His gaze drifted to the woods frequently in his search for danger. 

Lucius feared little in the natural or supernatural world. Justin witnessed him stand toe to toe with a werewolf and send it packing with its tail between his legs. If something had Lucius spooked, it had to be more than your garden variety bad.

What is it? What's going on?

You know I wouldn’t come to you about this sort of thing normally. Us wizards like to take care of our own business. We keep a clean house. It keeps us out of trouble with the greater powers and keeps the normal ignorant of what we can do. We like it that way. Sweat broke out on Lucius's forehead once more. He reached for his handkerchief and nearly dropped it as he pulled it out of his pocket. He dabbed his head again and opted not to put it away. He licked his lips and clenched his large, weak hands into fists before continuing in a hushed voice. Someone, or something, is hunting wizards, Justin. No, they are doing more than hunting us. They are sacrificing us and draining all the magic from us in the process. The ritual is like nothing I have ever seen. It is some seriously dark shit, and I can't even figure out what it is for.

What can you tell me about the ritual? Justin asked as he leaned forward with his hands on his knees.

I got a close-up look at a couple of the early ones. The heart is ripped out of the chest, and the eyes are plucked from their sockets. There's no sign of them, not even burnt remnants at the scene. The bodies are exsanguinated, but for no reason I can fathom. In some scenes, the blood is all over the place. In others, it is just gone. The rest of the organs end up wherever. There is no rhyme or reason to it. Lucius leaned back and shook his head. It's all kind of fucked up, man.

I might have come across the aftermath of one last night. I couldn’t get close, but the body was splayed open, and I could see the heart was missing. It wasn’t anything I’d seen before. Nasty work. Justin thought of the scene from the night before and the implied threat of the lily. He kept that to himself.

Yeah, that was Spencer Cliff. He was an initiate, just starting to make a name for himself. Lucius shook his head and sighed. Poor kid.

So, someone is killing wizards, harvesting some extremely specific organs, draining them of their blood and magic. That is one long list, and you're right. It doesn't make any sense. You could tie a couple of those things together, but not all of them. Justin's fingers clenched into fists as he tried to reach back through his memories, but he came up blank.

Maybe they're doing two rituals at once? I've never done it myself, but I heard they could weave two or three rituals together in the old days for some interesting result. Lucius stopped talking and tried to look casual in his sweat-stained suit.

A pair of teenagers holding hands walked past them, cutting off the conversation. Bad enough talking about murders, but speaking of magic in front of normals was a major taboo in wizard circles.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Lucius continued. There's something else. It's about the magic being drained. He looked about conspiratorially. I am only telling you this because this shit is bad, and I figure you're going to need every bit of information we got. I could get kicked out of the Council for even telling you some of this.

I won't say a word to anyone, not even Lilly, Justin said as he crossed his heart with one hand and held up a three-fingered salute with the other.

Knock it off, will ya? This is serious. You know how the bones of the saints still hold traces of magic in them? Well, the bones of wizards end up the same way. Long after we’re dead and gone, there is a trace of us, our residual power left behind, but with these murders, there is not a trace remaining. Jesus. Lucius held up his hands to ward off Justin as he opened his mouth. I know. I know. Blasphemy and all that. I’m sorry. This has us all a bit stressed out. Anyhow, two days ago, they found the body of old Bertie Shultz, and there wasn’t a trace of magic left in him. Say what you will about that crazy old wino, but he was three-hundred years old and could level a city block if he stopped drinking long enough to concentrate. Three hundred years and not an ounce of power remaining.

Bertie is dead? Justin's mouth hung open, and his eyes opened wide. Damnit. Bertie never hurt anyone. He was always nice to me and the others when I was homeless. He shared his food when he had it and never asked for anything in return. He closed his eyes and swallowed the anger threatening to surface. Getting mad wouldn't bring Bertie back or save anyone else. How many more? he asked through clenched teeth.

Bertie was the seventh, and Spencer makes eight, Lucius said as he moved further from Justin.

Eight? And it took you this long to come to me? Justin stood up, paced in front of the bench, and glared at Lucius. "I might have saved half, maybe more, if you had come to me sooner.

Lucius shrugged his shoulders. "The Council decided since wizards are being hunted, we would take care of it ourselves. A few of the