Steve McHugh's Blog: Steve McHugh - Writer, page 4
February 9, 2022
February 2, 2022
New Year. New Sale
Hello all. I know I didn’t post anything in January, mostly because I’ve been busy with writing my new series and if I’m honestly time got away from me.
I also need to start posting more often, so that’s something I’ll be hoping to sort out, although best laid plans and all that.
In the meantime, I have news of a sale in the UK and AUS for anyone who hasn’t picked up or has been waiting to pick up the Rebellion Chronicles.
The entire Rebellion Chronicles series is currently on sale on Amazon UK and Australia for only 99p (1.49AUD) each.
“To sum up, read it. Read all of The Hellequin Chronicles. Read all of The Avalon Chronicles. Read the novellas. Follow McHugh on social media (lovely man, very nice to his readers) and support him by preordering his upcoming works. You won’t regret it.”
Enjoy.
October 5, 2021
Blackcoat Release Day
Today is the day. my Science-fiction noir thriller, Blackcoat is finally out. This is just a quick post to thank everyone who decides to pick it up. I know it’s not my usual genre, but I hope you enjoy it.
When Celine Moro took a job as a Blackcoat, an elite agency tasked with investigating crimes throughout Union space, she thought she had finally put her past to rest.
Now, betrayed by her allies, her world is falling apart. Running from the corrupt politicians that she had sworn to bring to justice, Celine is dusting off the skills of her old trade in order to bring truth to light.
The only thing bringing her comfort is knowing how much worse her friends are eventually going to feel about their betrayal.
September 6, 2021
Blackcoat Chapter 1
As you may have heard, my new book, Blackcoat is out on October 5th for Paperback and Kindle. Here is the first chapter. If you’re interested in pre-ordering, and it really does help out the launch of a new book, the links are at the end of the chapter.
From the award nominated, bestselling author of the Hellequin Chronicles.
When Celine Moro took a job as a Blackcoat, an elite agency tasked with investigating crimes throughout Union space, she thought she had finally put her past to rest.
Now, betrayed by her allies, her world is falling apart. Running from the corrupt politicians that she had sworn to bring to justice, Celine is dusting off the skills of her old trade in order to bring truth to light.
The only thing bringing her comfort is knowing how much worse her friends are eventually going to feel about their betrayal.
Chapter One
My cell was little more than a steel framed bed that had seen better days, a mattress that was thin enough that I could feel the springs underneath, and a bucket. I had no idea how long I’d been a prisoner. A few days, probably. There were no windows. No glimpses into the outside world. Just a steady stream of cold air flowing around the badly fit steel door.
I would remain in my dingy cell until those who put me here decided when to execute me. That had been made clear from the moment I’d arrived. That was my fate. A fate I was still trying to figure out how to ensure didn’t come to pass.
No matter that I’d worked for the city of Euria—the largest city on the planet of Xolea—and the people who lived there for a decade. No matter that I’d fought against the criminal gangs of Euria while the galaxy around us burned in civil war. No matter that I protected the people of Euria from those same gangs, or that I saw friends give their lives in their duty as judges and Blackcoats of this fine city. No one will ever know that I tried to do the right thing, no one will remember that I stood up against corruption. It was all for nothing.
The realisation had taken a toll on my confidence of being able to get out of the predicament I found myself in.
Xolea is on the far edge of Union space, and consisted of four continent-sized cities. Only Euria, with its population of over twenty million, was considered helpful to the Union in any meaningful way. It was one of the largest manufacturing cities within the entire Union, and during the civil war had been heavily guarded by the Union’s fleet to ensure it couldn’t be captured or destroyed. Life had been hard in Euria before the war, but during it, when everything was done for the war effort, life had gone from hard to almost unbearable, while those in charge got rich and powerful. Richer and more powerful.
Now that the war was over, those who had benefited from it the most refused to give up their gains. Refused to allow people to go back to what had gone before. The gangs that had been around for my entire life, had been taken over by the most affluent in society to be used for their own goals. Keep the people down. Make sure no one tries to stop them from becoming more powerful. I knew the Blackcoats had been infiltrated, knew there was corruption, but I hadn’t realised just how deep and far-reaching it had become. Until one dark night on my way home from work, I was jumped by half a dozen people who were meant to be colleagues. Meant to be friends.
The anger at what had been done to me and my city had been all that had sustained me for my time in my dark cell. My partner had vanished, presumed killed by the gangs, and I had been framed for treason against the Union. All because I didn’t take bribes. Because I thought that Blackcoats—the Union’s law enforcement—were meant to be better than that.
The door to my cell opened with a shriek of metal on stone, bringing with it a gust of freezing air. A Sanctioner stepped inside. One of the five judge ranks. Sanctioners usually didn’t deal with crimes that involved the death penalty. I got the feeling in this case there might be an exception.
Two guards—both wearing charcoal-coloured, thick, thermal protection suits, and carrying plasma rifles—stood at the door. Masks covered the lower parts of their face, and each wore dark glasses either to protect their eyes from the harsh sunlight outside or because they thought they looked menacing. Their pale foreheads were all the skin that showed, and both had short, dark hair cut close to the head. The Sanctioner waved them away after one of them brought the man a metal chair that had seen better days. The folds of the Sanctioner’s fur-lined, ornate red and yellow robes almost enveloped the chair when he sat.
A scan mask hovered into the room, its two red eyes glowing inside the dark face. At some point, someone—possibly a psychopath— had decided to make vid recorders look like black face masks with red glowing eyes. I’d always hated them. Not because they were particularly creepy or unpleasant—although they were definitely both—but because I found them to be intrusive. Which, I had to concede, was probably the point.
“Celine Moro,” the Sanctioner said, looking down at the brightly lit screen of the data-slate in his hands. “Thirty-eight, female, no family. If you like, I can read you the list of commendations you’ve received over your career as a Blackcoat? It’s honestly very impressive.”
I glared at the Sanctioner. “I didn’t expect to see you,” I said through gritted teeth. “Not here. Not with these murderers and thieves, Gorat.”
Gorat took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reclining as much as possible in the rigid chair. “You should have taken the money,” he said eventually.
I wanted to rip his tongue out for that. I wanted to beat his head against the thick walls of my cage, but instead I remained seated and seethed inside. “I am a Blackcoat of the district of Euria,” I said, keeping my tone level. “I do not accept bribes. It’s quite literally a line you have to say when you’re sworn in. I’m pretty sure there’s an identical line for judges when they’re sworn in too.”
“Maybe you should have just taken that line as a suggestion,” Gorat said with a slight sigh.
“I can’t let people’s lives be ruined when I could do something to try and stop it,” I snapped, before reining in my temper.
“And that, dear Celine, is why you’re here in this shithole,” Gorat said. “The mask is here to document this conversation for… prosperity. You were offered wealth to look the other way in the dealings of one Trias Nateria, a well-known and wealthy Confessor of the Golden Dawn, and a Councillor of the Union. Did you really think you were going to win this? Did you really think your actions would do anything but end with you here?”
I turned to the scan mask. “You can fly into a wall.”
“That’s not very mature,” Gorat said.
“No, but you’re going to execute me anyway because I’m not corrupt. Unlike you, unlike half of the people I worked with.” The words tumbled free before I could stop them. “I did what was right and for that I end up here. I end up a criminal. Framed for treason because I was an inconvenience. Because I wasn’t corrupt. Framed by a Councillor of the Union. Godsdamned it, Gorat, these people aren’t meant to be tyrants, that’s why The Wardens exists.”
“There are no Wardens on Euria,” Gorat said.
“Which is exactly why people like Trias are allowed to do whatever they like.” I wanted to throw something at the wall in frustration.
The Wardens were responsible for the protection of every single Councillor and their families throughout the Union. But they also investigated any wrongdoing by those same Councillors. If they’d been on Euria there was a good chance I wouldn’t have been stuck in a damn cell, and Trias wouldn’t have been allowed to make himself the tyrant of the city.
“You always were too stubborn, too sure of what was right and wrong,” Gorat said, angry. “Everyone else just manages. You don’t have to like it, but it’s how things are done here. Especially during the war.”
“The war has been over for two years.”
“Yes, which is why we need to help the people of this planet,’ Gorat explained slowly, as if I was an idiot.
“And corruption helps them, how?”
“The workers here need these drugs, need to be helped.”
“Because they got addicted helping the war effort,” I said, the anger bubbling up inside me once again.
“There’s no going back now,” Gorat said. “Too many people made too much money to change things back to how they were.”
“Then maybe those things need to change,” I snapped.
“You think you’re the one to do it?” Gorat snapped back. “Trias doesn’t play games. He wants you dead. He wants to know what you know, and then he’s going to have you executed, and your body will be taken to one of the factories and burned up in a furnace. The people will look the other way, and do you know why? Because Trias either pays them to, or they’re not worth his money and they’re so terrified of him that they do it for free.”
“He’s a Confessor of the Golden Dawn and a Councillor of the Union,” I said, not really sure how to convey the betrayal I felt, not only at Gorat and my old comrades turning against me, but that a Confessor—a man who was meant to protect the people of their planet—could turn his back on everything he was meant to believe in. For profit and power. The fact he was a Councillor too, made the transgression doubly hard to take. Two jobs that were meant to be carried out by those who were meant to want the best for their people. It was a corruption of two great institutes of the Union, and when I’d first discovered the truth, it had made me physically ill.
Gorat sighed again.
“You knew my parents,” I said, my voice now barely above a whisper. “You worked with them. You knew me as a child, and now you’re going to be the one to have me executed. Why keep me here for however long it’s been? Why not just kill me?”
“I told you, Trias needs to know what you told to whom.”
“So you can go and kill more people?”
“Your parents were good people in a different time,” Gorat said, rubbing his eyes after several seconds of silence. “They would have taken the bribe.”
I really wanted to hit him for that.
“Trias wanted to come see you himself,” Gorat continued. “That’s why no one has hurt you yet. But instead, he’s decided you aren’t worth him venturing out into the cold. You’re just not important enough to him.”
“I could have brought him down,” I said more to myself than Gorat.
“You gathered more information on his operation than anyone else ever has. You and that other Blackcoat you were working with.”
“His name was Prasan,” I said, the familiar and warming sensation of anger keeping me from breaking down.
“He’s dead by the way,” Gorat said. “They’d considered framing you for the murder, but honestly, you both vanishing is much easier. Neither of you have families, both single, both married to the job, both disposable.”
“He didn’t deserve that,” I said. Prasan did have a family, a sister. They’d kept their mutual existence secret from those they worked with. Prasan the Blackcoat, and Rika the criminal arms-dealer. Having a criminal or a Blackcoat as family members didn’t inspire confidence or trust in their allies. “He was a good Blackcoat. He was a good man.”
“He was,” Gorat said. “I made sure his death was quick. It was all I could do for him. Some of Trias’ more… ardent supporters wanted him flayed. Wanted to send a message to other Blackcoats, but I managed to convince them otherwise.”
“Am I meant to be grateful?” I shouted.
“You’re meant to understand that I can only do so much for you and those you work with,” Gorat said. “I can’t begin to tell you what some of those same people wanted to do to you. I got Trias to agree that making you vanish without a trace was better in the long term, but if you won’t tell me who you spoke to, his people are going to get to make you talk. I can’t stop that.”
“So, did you come in here to get information, or to taunt me?”
“This isn’t easy for me either,” Gorat said.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you being betrayed by your own people and about to be executed for standing up against a crime boss?” I looked around the room. “No? Just me then.”
“Councillor, not crime boss,” Gorat corrected, his tone soft as if imparting a lesson.
I laughed in his face. “If it walks like a crime boss, talks like a crime boss, and shoots people in the face like a crime boss, he’s a crime boss.”
“This isn’t going to get us anywhere, is it?” Gorat said with a sigh. He got to his feet and looked down on me as if about to scold a child. “For the final time, Trias told me that if you cooperated, your death would be quick. But if not, then the guards will come in here and get the information out of you in another, much less pleasant way.”
“They’re going to sing a song?” I asked. “Or maybe do a dance routine? I think both of those would be less pleasant.”
“You never could keep a civil tongue in your head,” Gorat said, disapprovingly.
“And, apparently, you never could stop taking bribes to look the other way,” I said, leaning back on my bed. “I guess we’ve both been disappointed today.”
I looked up at the mask as it stared at me with its red eyes. “Trias, when you read this back, or watch the vid, or whatever you’re going to do, I hope you realise one day someone will actually find you in that lovely home of yours looking down over the rest of the district, and they’ll kill you. I’m just sorry to say I won’t be there to celebrate it myself.”
“Trias controls this city,” Gorat said, the palm of his hand against the door. “You should have realised that. Soon, the four guards in this building will come for you. They will take you to the room where you will eventually meet your death.”
“Only four?” I asked.
“Torture doesn’t take many people,” Gorat said. “They will hurt you before you die. You could have ensured that didn’t happen.”
“You could have ensured that didn’t happen,” I said, throwing his own words back at him.
“Goodbye, Celine,” Gorat said, pushing open the door, letting in the cold air from outside.
The mask left the cell first and Gorat reached inside his robes and placed a small box on the floor. The rectangular box was eight inches long by three inches wide, and was no deeper than the length of my finger. It was coloured orange and red with yellow trim, and reminded me of Gorat’s robe.
“Goodbye,” Gorat said again, and left me alone in my cell.
I stared at the box for some time. I wasn’t really sure what to do with it. Was it a bomb? No, probably not. That seemed too much like hard work for Gorat. My curiosity eventually overrode my feelings of trepidation and concern, and I picked up the box, flicking open the metal clasp and lifting the lid.
Inside sat a six-inch-long carbonate-fibre combat knife. I lifted it free and examined it. It was light, and sharpened to a dangerous edge. Knives were used by anyone from generals to street scum, but carbonate-fibre was different. They were used to by Special Forces members to be able to cut through shields and armour. It was the same material used to make the battleships and was almost indestructible against conventional weapons. It was the weapon of an assassin, of a warrior. And they were banned on Euria for one reason and one reason only: Trias and his loyal supports wore specially designed force shields at all times. If you wanted to kill one of them, you’d need to get close, and there was little chance of that with all of their guards and spies looking out for them.
Thankfully the carbonate blade would work just as well on flesh as it would on those with shields. The question was why had Gorat left it? Had he intended for me to use it to escape, did he think I could use it to kill Trias? Or had he left it because he knew I would try to escape and would be killed in the process. Giving me a heroic death instead of one screaming through hours of torture? Did it matter? Probably not. But it still played on my mind. Whatever else happened, escaping from the cell was my first move.
The shuffling of feet sounded outside the cell, and I held the knife down by my leg, the blade against the outside of my thigh, hidden from the man in foul weather gear who opened the door and stepped inside.
“It’s time to go,” he said with a snarl, a plasma rifle casually slung over one shoulder. He considered me no threat. He was an idiot.
“I think I’m okay right here,” I told him.
“I didn’t say I was giving you a choice,” he barked, stepping toward me, reaching for my arm. I sprung toward him, brushing his arm aside as he tried to grab me. He never saw the dagger until it was buried in his throat, his eyes wide with shock. He was dead a moment later.
I stepped aside as I removed the dagger, avoiding any blood as the guard collapsed forward. I dragged him further into my cell and checked the hallway beyond, finding it empty. There were three more guards somewhere in the building I’d been held in, and I had to work fast in case they were on the way to me as well.
I removed his red, fur-lined jacket and put it on; it was a little big, but it was that or deal with the sub-zero temperatures of a Euria winter without one, and that wasn’t much of a choice at all. I removed his second layer of clothing too—a skin-tight, black, cold-resistant top that was designed to change size to fit any frame. Anything to make sure I didn’t freeze to death the moment I stepped outside. I took his back holster and the energy pistol inside it, leaving the well-used plasma rifle where it was. The damn things only take six to eight shots before the magazine overheats and you need a new one. An energy pistol can put three times that number of shots out.
It took me a few minutes to get dressed, and every noise outside of the cell made me pause, and pick up a weapon, waiting for the inevitable attack. But none came. I wondered where the other guards were. Had they expected this one guard to be able to deal with me? Were they torturing some other poor soul? I pushed the thoughts aside; I didn’t need the distraction right now. I was soon dressed and ready to battle both the enemy inside the facility, and the elements outside.
I picked up the cell key card—a small, transparent blue device— and after checking the hallway once again—and finding it thankfully empty—I stepped out of the cell. The cold air whipped through the hallway of the building. Six doors ran the length of one side of the hallway, and large windows opposite each showcased the frozen tundra outside, the snow coming down hard. There would be several feet in a few hours in some parts, a dangerous time of the year for those working on the trams moving goods to and from the space port.
A light overhead flickered, and I counted to thirty to see if anyone would come check on their friend. But after forty-five seconds, I decided it was safe to continue. I had no idea exactly where I was or why Gorat had left me a weapon, but I planned on finding out. And then I was going to find Trias and we were going to have a long conversation about the error of his ways.
**************
So, there you have the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it, and that it made you look forward to the rest of the story.
Pre-order links:
August 5, 2021
July 20, 2021
Blackcoat Cover Reveal
As you may or may not know, I’ve been writing a Sci-fi novella by the title of Blackcoat. Well, I’m ready to reveal the cover, and let you know that the kindle version is available to pre-order from your local Amazon right now. There will also be a paperback version, and I’m looking into the Audible version. Hope you like it.
When Celine Moro took a job as a Blackcoat, an elite agency tasked with investigating crimes throughout Union space, she thought she had finally put her past to rest.
Now, betrayed by her allies, her world is falling apart. Running from the corrupt politicians that she had sworn to bring to justice, Celine is dusting off the skills of her old trade in order to bring truth to light.
The only thing bringing her comfort is knowing how much worse her friends are eventually going to feel about their betrayal.
Pre-order links:
May 10, 2021
May Update – I Sold A Million Books
A quick Youtube video update about my current work, and what’s coming next.
April 28, 2021
It’s Been A While
Hello all.
Yes, I know it’s been a while since I last posted anything, and I know I was going to keep better up to date with everything, but seeing how the kids were home for 3 months during lockdown the best laid plans flew out of the window.
So, this is just to update everyone on a few things.
BOOKS
I’m currently no contracted for anything, although I’ve got a book with my agent so hopefully that’ll change sooner rather than later. It’s the first book in a new world, so that’s pretty exciting.
Yes, Horsemen’s War is the end of Nate’s storyline involving Avalon and Arthur, but it’s not the end of the me writing in that world.
The first book I’ll be writing outside of the Nate stuff is the Diana Novel, titled No Gods, Only Monsters. It’s the first of 3 books that at the moment I’ve titled Antiquity, although that may change. It’s not a Diana trilogy as each book will have a different Main Character, all of whom anyone who has read the Hellequin books will have met already.
Hopefully I’ll have details of it soon.
NOVELLA
In the mean time, my 3 current Novellas are still out there.
Infamous Reign
Hunted
Frozen Rage
All 3 are available on Kindle/Paperback, and at Audible.
Audible
Amazon
Book Depository
MISC
For years now, people have been asking me for my address so they can send me copies of books/whatever cool stuff they want to send me, and I really don’t like giving out my home address. So, after far too long, I got myself a PO Box address.
Should you wish to send me something (nothing illegal/weird/creepy/ you get the general idea), the address is:
Hidden Realms Publishing
PO Box 1925
Southampton
SO18 9QE
UK
And that’s it for the post. It was just a catch up, and I’ll be making sure to post more regularly, and also do Youtube stuff about writing now that all 3 kids are back at school and I can return to doing somewhat normal stuff.
Take care.
December 4, 2020
Horsemen’s War Release
Horsemen’s War is out now.
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So far, it’s been in the top 50 books in the UK and Australia, and top 20 Audible Science Fiction and Fantasy in the USA and UK. Basically, it’s doing very well and thank you to everyone who has picked up a copy.
Also, Sorcery Reborn and Death Unleashed are only 99p each in the UK on kindle, so if you haven’t had chance to catch up with Nate and co yet, now’s as good a time as any.
If you haven’t picked it up yet, and you want to, here are some links to help you
Thank you to those who decide to pick up a copy, and I hope you enjoy it.
October 19, 2020
Horsemen’s War: Prologue
It’s almost time for the launch of Horsemen’s War (Dec 3rd 2020 Kindle/Audible/ and Paperback, and available to pre-order right now), and I know that 2020 has been a long year for a lot of people, so I thought that I’d post the prologue now for people to read.
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I hope you enjoy it.
Prologue
Nate Garrett
Virginia, United States, Earth Realm
1798
The interior of the barn was covered in blood. None of it was mine.
The two dozen inhabitants had arrived here believing they were meeting with me as an envoy from Avalon. I was meant to discuss future business deals, bring them more prosperity, and they, in return, would keep Avalon’s influence alive in the newly free country of America. Things had changed.
There was a gargle in one of the four empty stalls. The horses that had been kept there were long gone.
I walked over, stepping around the top half of a torso and a severed head, and found the still-living man inside the stall. The smell of blood and shit was overpowering, but I pushed it aside. I didn’t plan on staying long.
His tunic was bathed in blood, and more blood covered his face. There was a deep cut along his chest, and it continued to bleed heavily.
“Why?” he asked, a look of betrayal in his eyes.
I followed his gaze to the body of his nearest companion.
“You are murderers, thieves, slavers. Scum who relish and traffic in human misery,” I said, my voice completely calm. “Why should so many innocent people die while people like you continue to make wealth off their pain?”
“But we work for Avalon,” he said, his face waxy. He did not have long. “You work for Avalon.”
I nodded. “I was sent here by Merlin to ensure that Avalon’s reach continued into this new world. But I decided that it was also an excellent time to remove the rotten parts of the system.”
“We work for Avalon,” he said again.
I didn’t remember his name. It didn’t really matter. He was one of hundreds I’d killed since arriving in America in 1784. All of them had deserved it. Their deaths had made the world a better place.
“I don’t care,” I told him.
“Merlin will find you,” he said with a gasp. “He will punish you.”
I smiled at him. “And you’ll still be dead.” I drove a blade of fire into his chest, ending him properly.
I stood and removed the long black coat I’d been wearing. It was covered in blood, as were my dark trousers and black boots. I tossed the coat onto the floor. There was a second one on my horse, outside the barn.
I pushed open the partially stuck wooden door and stepped outside into the cold. I ignited my fire magic, keeping myself warm as I stared at the familiar face of the man who stood fifteen feet away. He was taller than me, with long dark hair tied back with a blue bow. He was clean shaven, and his hurt expression was clear. He wore a long black coat, similar to the one I’d dropped in the barn, and like me, he carried no weapons. He didn’t really need them. I’d once seen him tear a man in half with his bare hands.
“Tommy,” I said, feeling like the word would get stuck in my throat.
“Nate,” he replied, taking a step toward me. His voice was calm, almost sad.
“They deserved to die,” I said, my tone harder now as I let my anger fuel my voice.
“Probably,” Tommy said with a slight shrug. “Not for us to say.”
“Why?” I shouted. “Why not for us to say? We have the power.”
“Because that’s not what we do,” he countered immediately. “We’re not here as judge, jury, and executioner to people we deem to be bad. Humanity is meant to police its own.”
“Why should innocent people die and bastards like this continue to live?” I snapped, marching toward Tommy until I was only a foot away.
“Because we’re better than them,” Tommy said. “Because we can’t rule humanity—especially through fear. That’s not our place. They are ignorant of our existence for a reason. Their safety—and ours! Your actions are putting us all in danger.”
“They. Are. Monsters.” Each word was said louder, the last a bellow.
“You killed bad people,” Tommy said, his voice never rising. “But what about all the innocents who also died because of that? We don’t just blindly kill people we disagree with. We can’t. We’re not conquerors. They’ve literally just had a war here to destroy oppression. You were not sent here to decimate the population of people who you deem to be unworthy. Mary Jane would never want that.”
I punched him in the mouth, my hand wrapped in dense air magic. Tommy flew back ten meters and collided with an old wooden shed, which imploded from the impact.
The silence that followed felt like a lifetime. I wasn’t sure how to take back what I’d just done. I wasn’t sure how to stop the anger and hate inside of me, how to burn away the pain that had all but consumed me.
“Did that make you feel better?” Tommy asked as he hurled a large piece of wood a hundred meters into the fields beyond.
“Don’t you ever say her name,” I snapped, feeling the warmth of the hate return to push aside the pain.
“Mary Jane was your wife,” Tommy said as he strode back toward me, shrugging off his coat and dropping it onto the snowy ground. “I know her death hurt you, but it’s been sixteen years. Everyone involved in her murder is dead. You killed them.”
“I said, don’t mention her name,” I seethed.
“We found the soldier,” Tommy continued. “We found him without his tongue, his eyes, his fingers, his toes, lips, and several other parts you’d removed. He didn’t even look human. You think Mary Jane would approve of that? You think she would be standing beside you, telling you this is a job well done?”
I threw another punch, and Tommy caught it in midair as if he were catching a child’s toy.
“Mary Jane was a good woman,” he said, pushing my arm away. “You disgrace her memory with every life you needlessly take.”
I threw another punch, this one wrapped in fire, but Tommy growled, low and mean, and struck me in the chest with the palm of his hand.
I smashed through the barn doors and crashed into one of the beams inside before dropping to the floor. I charged out, leaping over the blood, directly into Tommy, who had turned into his werewolf beast form. He caught me one handed and threw me aside into the fence that surrounded the barn. I wrapped myself in air magic as I bounced along the frozen ground into the field beyond.
Dirt and snow rained down around me as I got to my feet, ready for Tommy, who was methodically walking toward me.
“I don’t want to do this,” I shouted at him.
“Then stop,” he said sadly.
I created a blade of fire in one hand and extinguished it. Tommy was my best friend. I wasn’t going to fight him. I just needed to get away; I needed to finish what I’d started.
“Mary Jane would be disgusted at what you’ve become,” he said.
Blind rage took over, and I charged Tommy, trying to drive a short blade of fire into his chest, but he punched me in the jaw with enough strength to spin me in the air but not break every bone in my face, which he certainly could have done.
“You’re not doing this for Mary Jane,” Tommy said as I spat blood onto the snow and took another swipe at him, cutting him across the chest.
“Stop saying her name,” I screamed at him.
Tommy backhanded me across the face, and I felt my entire head ring from the impact as I hit the ground once again.
“You’re meant to be my friend,” I snapped at him.
“Yes,” Tommy said. “And that’s why I’m here. You need saving from yourself.”
“Liar,” I said, spitting blood onto the ground once more. “You’re here to stop me from what I have to do. What needsdoing.”
“You’re delusional,” he said softly, even through his werewolf mouth. “You’ve lost yourself to pain, anger, hate, and hurt. You think that if you somehow drench yourself in enough blood, you’ll either make up for your wife’s death, or you’ll just become numb to it all. But it’ll never be enough, Nate. Not ever. You know this.”
“You think beating me senseless will do the trick?” I shouted.
“I’d hoped to talk,” Tommy said with a sigh.
“Why do they get to live, and Mary dies at the hands of some piece-of-shit English soldier while I’m not there? Why, Tommy?”
“I don’t know,” Tommy said softly. “I wish I did. It’s not fair. It’s not right. But neither is how you’re dealing with it. You can’t stop the hurt inside you by hurting everyone else.”
I threw another punch at my best friend, but he caught my hand again, dragging me toward him, where he enveloped me in a hug, taking us both to our knees.
“No, Nate,” he whispered softly. “No more.”
“Why is she gone, Tommy?” I screamed to the heavens. “I miss her so much,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“I know,” he said, his own voice cracking and tears running down his face. “I’m so sorry.”
I cried then, for the first time since Mary Jane’s murder. I cried for her, for me, for the horrors I’d inflicted. I cried in a snowy, blood-speckled field in Virginia as my best friend held me and brought me back from the darkness that had enveloped me. And right then and there, I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do to repay him for that kindness.
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