Occult Assassin 4: Soul Jacker (12 page)

A few minutes later, she stepped into the Paris night. A fine drizzle stung her skin. She welcomed the sensation, which further grounded her in reality. She could sense that this nightmare was truly behind her. She didn’t understand what had broken the unholy spell the drug had exerted on her—and truth be told, she didn’t want to know. Yasmine was free; it didn’t matter why or how. All that mattered was finding her grandmother.
 

She walked briskly down the brightly lit streets of Paris, appreciating, perhaps for the first time, the beauty of her adopted city.
 

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

BY THE TIME Samia stepped out of the tenement and into the night, the rain had stopped and the mist had thinned out. Swirling tendrils of fog still wove their way through the streets, but the condensation had lost its supernatural menace. She still couldn’t quite believe that they had defeated Rakan and the unholy creature under his command.
 

As they’d descended the tenement stairs, they’d encountered many of Rakan’s erstwhile followers. They all looked like they were waking from a horrible nightmare—which, from what Samia understood, wasn’t that far from the truth. The death of the Jinn had broken the dark spell of its lifeforce.

She expected to find the beast’s shattered form on the pavement, but they only discovered Rakan’s broken body splayed a few feet from the building. The twenty-story fall and the creature’s digestive fluids had reduced her former lover’s features into a bloody, pulpy mass. There was no sign of the monster. If both monster and man had been linked somehow, maybe the creature had dissolved in the same way Rakan’s features had been obliterated. Or could the beast have stolen away into the rainy night? The thought sent a cold panic down her spine, and her eyes probed the surrounding darkness. The halogen streetlights did little to illuminate the gray soup around them.

Combing the darkness, her gaze landed on an open sewer grate. Had some part of the monster escaped into the bowels of the city? Wounded, maybe dying, but still able to infiltrate the heart of the metropolis somehow, an evil poison polluting the water that flowed through the city’s stone arteries.

Tensions between the French and her people were at an all time high, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. Things would get worse before they got better. The last thing her city needed was a monster churning up hatred and fear. The situation was bad enough without a supernatural influence.

Sirens grew audible in the near distance, and Samia let out a sigh of relief. Reinforcements would be arriving any second now.

“I must go,” the American said. She turned toward him and searched his battle-worn features.

I’ve seen things most men couldn’t imagine in their worst nightmares. There are horrors out there, dark forces men can tap into.

She doubted he would share his story with her. He didn’t have to. He’d saved her life, saved this neighborhood. He didn’t owe her any explanations.
 

“Are you at least going to tell me your full name?”

The American smiled, squeezed her shoulder and said, “Mark Talon.”

With these words, he vanished into the mist.

Moments later, the first squad car pulled up to the tenement.

***

Talon studied Casca as he inspected the strange vial. Five days had passed since the battle in the banlieues, and he now found himself in Casca’s office at his sprawling Silicon Valley mansion. The drug was the only tangible evidence of the horror he’d faced.
 

“Your experience in Paris changes everything. I will have to revisit the myths of the Jinn and interpret them in a completely new way.”
 

“Sounds like fun.” Talon rolled his eyes, knowing all too well the billionaire would have a blast unraveling this new occult mystery.

Casca placed the vial in a drawer of his mahogany desk. Talon glanced at the large globe that stood in the office’s corner. For most of his life, he’d been traveling the world, constantly on the go and he had a feeling his lifestyle wouldn’t change any time soon. He wondered where the billionaire would send him next.

Almost as if Casca had scanned his mind, he said, “Did you get a chance to read my interview in
Forbes
? I think I did an excellent job of playing the rich boy with too much time on his hands and an unhealthy interest in the occult.”
 

 
“Can’t say I have. Did the Order of the Flayed Prince take the bait?”

“Someone was paying attention because I received a personal invitation to attend a workshop hosted by the Shadow Seeker Society in New York City.”

“You think they’re connected to the order?”

“There’s only one way to know for sure.”

Talon mulled it over. Normally the billionaire commanded their campaigns from the safety of his mansion while Talon put himself in harm’s way. Now his general planned to venture out onto the battlefield. He’d proven to be a helpful ally when they’d faced the Reaper’s murderous spirit back in the Ohio mall but Talon couldn’t shake a growing sense of unease. Casca was developing an appetite for action, his confidence bolstered by his growing mastery of the magical arts.
 

On the other hand, the Order wasn’t like the any enemy they faced before. He’d scored another victory in Paris, but even the most skilled soldier knew that survival was mostly a matter of luck—and a lucky streak could only last for so long. This new enemy possessed the funding and membership numbers to pose a real problem. Who knew how deep their influence went and what horrific goals they might be working toward.

“You accepted the invitation?” Talon asked after a long pause.

Casca nodded. “The seminar is scheduled a week from now. I was hoping you might join me for the event.”
 

Talon cocked an eyebrow, and Casca added, “I have a feeling I might be in need of a personal bodyguard.”

Talon nodded. “I’m on the payroll, boss.”

Casca grinned and Talon joined him. Inwardly, though he wasn’t smiling, gripped by a dark premonition. He sensed the battle ahead would test them both in ways they couldn’t even imagine. Casca believed the Order had taken his bait, but Talon wasn’t so sure. What if their new enemy knew exactly what they were up to? He’d set a cunning and deadly trap in that remote Italian chapel, and he feared that the Order was now planning a trap of their own.
 

Picking up on his unease, Casca poured him a shot of bourbon. Talon drained the glass and gave his employer a more genuine smile.

Whatever horrors might be waiting for them in New York, this time they’d face them together.

THE END

Mark Talon and Simon Casca return in Doomsday Circle.

The battle between the occult assassin and the mysterious Order of the Flayed Prince is about to heat up.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Dear Readers:

The recent horrific terrorist attack in Paris shocked me deeply, especially since I was in the middle of writing Soul Jacker at the time which echoes some of the ethnic tensions impacting Europe and the world at the moment. This story wasn’t designed to ride on the coattails of a recent tragedy or to be sensationalistic. It was conceived way before the recent horrific attack and was originally planned to be the second book in the series. The Charlie Hebdo attack early this year made me push the story and Apocalypse Soldier became book 2. But the tale continued to haunt me, and I finally came back to it this summer, after I felt enough time had passed. Little did I realize even more horrific attacks would soon rattle the City of Lights. Extremist ideology has been replaced with the occult in the Talon stories but like the Dark Knight movies, Occult Assassin is designed to take the real world of terrorism and give it a fantastical push. Sometimes art imitates life and other times it intercepts it, becoming eerily prophetic. My heart goes out to all the victims and I sincerely hope the story doesn’t offend anyone. It was meant to be cautionary tale, grounded somewhat in reality but clearly a fantasy-horror story.

The world is a dangerous place even without monsters and demons and I’m grateful that the real Mark Talons out there valiantly strive to keep it safe for all of us.

William Massa

December 2015

Los Angeles, CA

Thank you so much for reading!

Please consider writing an Amazon review. Reviews help readers choose and discover a book and offer valuable feedback to me as a writer. For your convenience, you can follow this direct REVIEW LINK below:

Click here to review SILICON MAN!

Thank you for your support and your time!

Want to get an email when the next title is released? Please subscribe to my spam-free newsletter for the latest news, promotions and giveaways!

Click here to get started:
http://eepurl.com/Ki8QH

Please like my
Facebook
page for updates and messages.
 

THE STORY CONTINUES IN SILICON WORLD BOOK 0: SILICON DAWN

"Silicon Dawn reads like a mashup of Blade Runner and Se7en." Dwayne Smith, Forty Acres.
 

THE LINE BETWEEN MAN AND MACHINE HAS BEEN CROSSED...
 

AND THERE IS NO TURNING BACK.
 

A diabolical serial killer stalks the city of the future…
 

Hunting the people who build the machines.
 

And it's up to two cops to unravel a terrible conspiracy.
 

The world is still reeling form the devastation of the Omega Virus and struggling to rebuild. A growing android workforce has given rise to the Human Defense League and anti-AI sentiment is at an all-time high.
 

Adam, the first of the new X-3000 models, arrives into this hostile world. Field-tested on the Luna colonies, now assigned to Earth, Adam is paired with homicide detective Jane Malveaux, who has little love for synthetics.
 

Before long both Malveaux and Adam must cast aside their differences and join forces to solve a case that will test both man and machine.
 

PLEASE ENJOY A SPECIAL PREVIEW OF
 

SILICON DAWN

A SILICON MAN PREQUEL

LOS ANGELES, 2084.
 

TEN YEARS BEFORE THE EVENTS OF SILICON MAN.

The San Francisco Spaceport bustled with activity. Two spaceplanes had arrived in quick succession, one from the Luna colonies and another from the IMS space station, and weary passengers thronged the arrival hall. Sunlight streamed through the large, oblong windows, and the space travelers basked in the welcoming heat. Feeling the sun on their faces signaled that they were back on the homeworld. The outer colonies had their charms, but nothing beat good old Mother Earth.
 

Among the new arrivals was someone who’d never before visited the birthplace of humanity. He wore a gray suit and a fedora, the brim of the hat cloaking much of his face in shadow. The look had been popular in the first half of the twentieth century and was in vogue again.
 

As the man in gray waited his turn in the long line snaking its way toward the security portals, he studied his surroundings. Most of his fellow travelers were barely awake, their slightly atrophied muscles still readjusting to Earth’s gravity, but the man in gray was fully alert. The arrivals area energized him with a sense of wonder. Everything seemed new and different somehow.
 

Exciting.
 

He couldn’t quite put his finger on why he felt this way. Maybe it was the sunlight shafting through the windows and the glimpses of azure sky. Or perhaps there was a different energy here on Earth, a confidence and carefree attitude that came with the awareness of being home.
 

Earth gave life, space claimed it.