Cursed City (Shadow Detective Book 1)



THE GOTHIC SKYLINE of my adopted metropolis rose before me, the lights of its majestic buildings twinkling in the nighttime shadows. Like many major urban centers, the city has a reputation for being a place that never sleeps. Some of the hippest, most famous restaurants and clubs in the country can be found within its urban canyons, and its late-night delights draw visitors from all around the world.

I pulled off the freeway, shot down the exit ramp and tore through a series of deserted alleys. The glamour of the glittering downtown gave way to blocks of abandoned industrial warehouses. Maybe one day in the near future gentrification would turn this area into a hotspot for hipsters and artists, but at the moment it was still a broken wasteland of failed industry and a mecca for the city’s homeless population.

I zipped past sidewalks crowded with tents, where forgotten souls wrapped in tattered rags shuffled along the otherwise empty streets like an army of the undead. This was skid row on steroids.

In other words: home, sweet home.

After another fifteen minutes of crumbling structures and rat-infested alleys for scenery, our four-story loft building jumped into view. This former warehouse served as both our living space and our command center in the war against the supernatural. Sensors registered my approach and a gate rumbled open, allowing me to pull into the underground parking structure.

I couldn’t see them from inside my car, but a number of surveillance cameras recorded my approach. Skulick would be monitoring the CCTV feed. Technological as well as mystical security measures protected the fortress-like warehouse. Our top-of-the line electronic security system coexisted with magical wards and glyphs capable of deflecting most supernatural assaults. Should some demon locate our base of operations, the beast would have a hell of a fight if it tried to overcome our metaphysical defenses.

Like myself, Skulick wasn’t a mage but had picked up a few tricks over the years. He might not be able to cast a spell, but he knew how to draw the right protective symbols and release their power with the help of occult ritual. He’d done most of the warding himself, before his injury.

While our underground parking structure was large enough to accommodate eight vehicles, at the moment only my Ducati and Skulick’s battered Humvee were parked there. The Humvee had been gathering dust for eight months. A spinal injury had a way of turning the most energetic person into a homebody.

I parked the Equus, killed the engine and got out. Stale air tinged with city grime made me immediately miss the countryside. My footsteps echoed as I approached the rusty freight elevator. I punched a button and the lift rumbled to life with a disconcerting groan of steel. Less than a minute later, the elevator door zoomed open with a metallic thunk and I entered the spacious loft Skulick and I called home.

The world outside the warehouse might resemble a post-apocalyptic wasteland, but the loft itself was a different story. Hardwood floors, stainless steel counters and red brick walls dominated the space. Thick beams formed an intricate web across the high ceiling, and gargantuan windows offered a perfect view of the cursed city’s glittering skyline. There was a sense of peace and tranquility within our loft, allowing us to at least momentarily forget the horrors we faced beyond these walls.

A whirring sound drew my attention and I turned to see Skulick’s motorized wheelchair buzzing toward me. Behind him was a massive desk covered with computer monitors and books on the occult. Seeing Skulick, the man who became my guardian and mentor after my parents’ death, brought a bittersweet smile to my face.

Growing up, I had been led to believe that my father was a traveling salesman who worked hard to support us. His business partner was John Skulick. Back then I tried to imagine what my dad’s long days on the road were like. Little did I know that those trips weren’t like anything my young mind imagined. It turns out that my dad and Skulick had been hunting creatures of the night, keeping the world safe from monsters.

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