Dragon Gate
Table of Contents
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DRAGON GATE
A Jonathan Shade Novel
Gary Jonas
Sky Warrior Book Publishing, LLC.
© 2013 by Gary Jonas.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
Published by Sky Warrior Book Publishing, LLC.
PO Box 99
Clinton, MT 59825
www.skywarriorbooks.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
Editor: Andrea Howe, Blue Falcon Editing.
Cover by M.H. Bonham.
Publisher: M. H. Bonham.
Printed in the United States of America
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Other Books by Gary Jonas
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Acheron Highway
Quick Shots
One-Way Ticket to Midnight
CHAPTER ONE
STEPHEN NOBLE
In the moments before his execution, Stephen Noble thought only of his children.
He knew Graham would be fine, but he worried about Rayna. She seemed to have acclimated well to the altitude in Boulder, and she didn’t have the problems he’d had with the cold. Still, she was his only daughter, which meant he had to protect her whether she was here in Colorado or back in the land where she’d been born. Stephen realized he would never see her again.
The Marshall Clan blocked the path to his office building. They wore their brown forest cloaks. Some held bows with arrows nocked. Some held swords or daggers. Stephen glanced behind him and saw that they had him surrounded. He could not return to his car. He breathed in the cool morning air, which was tinged with the wonderful smoky aroma from the fire consuming a nearby park.
Thomas Marshall, the eldest of the clan stepped forward and nodded. “End of your run, Stephen.”
“So it would seem,” Stephen said, his voice firm and strong. His piercing eyes held no fear. The wind whipped through his silver hair, and he allowed himself a grin. He knew that how one faced death was every bit as important as how one faced life. More important in some respects. Life was simple; you simply kept drawing breath. It was a habit. Letting go of life without regret seemed impossible. He worried that he hadn’t done more to prepare Rayna. He hoped Graham would look out for her. Beyond that, he’d left his remorse with his former life in his homeland.
“It’s the end for all of you,” Thomas said. “Your crimes and betrayals cannot be tolerated.”
Stephen looked at the twelve men who stood with Thomas. “Do all of you really believe I’m a criminal? Do you truly believe my actions deserve a permanent death?” He looked at the youngest, who had just turned nineteen. “Adam, I taught you to shoot that bow. Are you really going to use it on me?”
Adam fidgeted but did not lower the weapon.
“Peter, I helped you forge that blade,” Stephen said. “Would you use it to slay me? Do all of you feel the same?”
The men did not answer. Stephen knew they wouldn’t. He’d helped raise them. He’d introduced Thomas to his wife, their mother. Their families had been close for as long as any of them could remember, and while their stations may have been different, he still considered them to be friends.
“Face me,” Thomas said.
Stephen nodded and met his oldest friend’s gaze. “You know my reasons.”
“I do,” Thomas said.
“You’d have done the same to protect your children.”
Thomas shook his head. “No, Stephen. I would not.”
“You’d let your children die?”
“That is the way of things.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“That’s not for us to decide.”
Stephen shrugged. “You found us sooner than I expected.”
“You knew you couldn’t hide.”
After drawing a deep breath, Stephen gave him a half smile. “Will you do the honors?”
Thomas drew a sword from the scabbard strapped to his back. “Of course.”
Stephen knelt before his friend and bowed his head. “Before you kill me, will you allow me to say good-bye to Elizabeth?”
Thomas looked around. “Elizabeth is not here.”
Stephen pulled a cell phone from his pocket. He held it up so Thomas could see. “You’re new here. They have amazing technology in this world. With this little device, I can speak to Elizabeth no matter where she is provided she has a similar device with her.”
“If that’s a weapon, my boys will still slay you.”
Stephen continued to hold the phone out so Thomas could see it. “It’s not a weapon. It’s called a cellular telephone. If you remain here for long, you’ll find them to be indispensable. I often wonder how I got by without one.”
“You can speak to Elizabeth with that little box?”
“I can.”
“You realize we’ll find her too. Graham, Rayna, and your brother’s family as well.”
“Your tracking skills and your dedication were never in question, Thomas. May I tell my wife good-bye, or will you not grant that request?”
Thomas hesitated then nodded. “Out of respect, I will allow it.”
“Thank you.”
“In addition, I will grant your wife and children swift deaths. Your brother, however, will die slowly for what he did to Vanessa and Clara.”
“I understand. And I thank you for your generosity. I’ll call Elizabeth and we can end this. It will only take a minute.”
Thomas nodded.
Stephen scrolled through his contact list. He went right past Elizabeth and Graham and stopped on the name Mike Endar. He tapped the screen to place the call. He and Elizabeth had lived long lives and had done nearly everything they’d set out to do. He doubted Mike could protect her, so he expected that she’d soon join him in the nothingness of death. He listened to the phone ring and ring. Mike Endar never answered his phone, but that was all right. After the beep, Stephen spoke the words to protect his children.
“It’s Stephen and I’m sorry to say it’s time.” He ended the call, but as Thomas wouldn’t know that, he pretended to speak to his wife. “I love you. Say good-bye to Graham and Rayna for me. They are my world.”
He returned the phone to his pocket, met his friend’s eyes one last time, and gave him a slight nod before he bowed his head in submission. He’d done all he could to protect his family. The rest would be up to Mike Endar, the wizards at Dragon Gate Industries, and the protective team Mike promised to put in place once this day arrived. Stephen could rest easy with
the knowledge that Thomas and his family would have their hands full. He only hoped it would be enough to save his children.
He stared at the cold cement of the parking lot outside his office until the sword came down and severed his head. Then everything faded away and nothing mattered.
FROM THE FILES OF JONATHAN SHADE
“You’ve avoided sparring with me for months,” Brand said as soon as I entered Kelly Chan’s dojo. “I want to hit someone.”
“Is Kelly here?” I asked.
“I can’t hit her. She’s too fast.”
“No, Brand. Is she here? As in currently at this location?”
“Oh. She’s in her office.”
I hadn’t done any sparring with Brand or Kelly since December. To them, it was four months ago. To me, it was nearly six years, but there was no way I could tell them that. Hell, they might not even believe me. There were times when it all seemed like a dream, but I still had the vivid memories of their dying. I still remembered the years without them. For reasons I’ve never understood, the emptiness could not be filled by their presence.
The months since I returned from the life without them had been filled with plenty of training. I’d learned a lot in the years before I was able to come back and save them. The problem was that my body didn’t have the actual experience from those years of training, so I needed to get myself into fighting shape. I wasn’t sure I wanted to test it yet. If I ignored those years, I could pretend they weren’t there. But they were, damn it. I might not have the physical remnants, but I certainly carried the mental scars.
I knocked on Kelly’s office door.
“Come in,” she said.
I steeled my nerves out of habit. The first few weeks I’d been back were the hardest because I’d grieved for her, yet here she was, alive and well, and I couldn’t say anything to her about it. I couldn’t tell her what happened. It was easier to see her now, but I still found myself going through the routine of making sure I was completely in control. I opened the door. “Ready for lunch?”
“Not quite.” Kelly sat at her computer. She wore a smart business suit and had her long black hair tied in a ponytail. She looked up at me. “Are you sure about the amount you put on my ten ninety-nine?”
“Triple-checked it,” I said.
Kelly worked for me as an independent contractor. Most of the work I did as a private investigator didn’t require her special skills, but whenever I needed her, she was stalwart and true. She was worth ten times what I could afford to pay her. That could soon change because I’d made a few investments I expected to pay massive dividends.
Brand joined us in the office and snapped his fingers to get Kelly’s attention. “Tell him he has to spar with me before we go eat.”
“Just drag him onto the mats. If you hit him, he’ll fight back.”
“Good idea,” Brand said. “I should have thought of that.”
Kelly shook her head and glared at the screen. I half expected the monitor to burst into flame and melt right into the oak finish of her desk. “How could I owe the IRS sixteen hundred dollars? Did I miss a deduction? God, I hate taxes.”
“So don’t pay them,” Brand said. “It works for me.”
“I don’t object to paying my share; it’s just that it seems high. I feel like I’m bleeding money.”
“Seriously,” Brand said. “Just ignore them. It’s not like they can put you in jail. They don’t have a big enough army.”
“They could freeze my accounts,” Kelly said.
“That’s why I operate on a cash-and-carry basis.”
It helped that he didn’t have a Social Security number or any kind of identification. He lived off the grid, and I suspected that his criminal ventures before hooking up with Kelly had paid well enough that he wasn’t worried about finances.
“All right, Jonathan, it’s time for you to play punching bag,” he said. He tried to grab my arm, but I pulled away before he could catch me. He seemed a bit surprised.
I leaned over Kelly’s desk. “How much time do you need?”
“Oh, give me five minutes. I’ll just file the damn thing and write out a check.”
“Fine,” I said and turned to look Brand in the eyes. At some point, I’d have to see where I stood in my training. Might as well do it now. “You want to spar, let’s make it interesting. If you take me down, I’ll buy you lunch. If I take you down, you buy me lunch.”
Brand laughed. “Careful, I can work up quite an appetite while I kick your ass.”
“Brag’s a good dog.”
“It isn’t bragging. Just stating a fact.”
“Stating a hypothesis,” I said. “You aren’t even up to a theory yet. Shall we test it?”
Brand practically raced from the office. Evidently the prospect of getting to hit someone was better than sex for him. He wasn’t allowed to hit the women Kelly trained, and he wasn’t fast enough to connect with Kelly, so I was the only living opponent he could strike on a regular basis. When I entered the training area, he stood waiting for me on the tatami mats. He was a Sekutar—a magically engineered assassin—so he didn’t need to warm up or stretch.
I’d already worked out that morning, but I figured I should warm up a bit before facing off with a warrior. I went through a few stretches, and it felt good. I slipped off my shoes and socks and stepped onto the mat.
“You don’t want to change into sweats?” he asked.
I looked down at my jeans and button-up shirt. “I don’t think I’ll work up a sweat before Kelly comes out.”
“You want to get blood on your pretty white shirt?”
“You expect to bleed on me?” I asked.
Brand laughed. He knew he was faster and stronger, and he had the advantage of not feeling pain. “You crack me up,” he said and approached.
He threw his first punch, which I easily blocked, but as I slid off the attack, I darted in faster than he expected and punched him in the face. His head snapped back and, for a moment, he froze. That’s a common reaction to being hit. Brand wasn’t used to someone slipping past his defenses. Before he could recover, I swept his feet and planted him hard on his back. I rode him down, pinning him to the mat.
“Lunch is on you and I’m famished.”
“How the hell did you do that?”
I rose to my feet and helped him up. “I’ve been training.”
“Bullshit. You just got lucky. You’d need years of dedicated training to get to this level.”
Of course, I’d had those years, but I couldn’t tell him that. He hadn’t lived them.
He reached for my throat, and I caught his hand and twisted him back to the mat. He tried to pull free, but I didn’t let go. I dropped my weight onto his wrist, and the snapping bone gave me a satisfaction I didn’t want to admit.
“Impossible,” he said, staring at his broken wrist. It would heal in a few hours. Being magically engineered has some obvious advantages.
Kelly exited the office, and her eyes widened a bit when she saw Brand on the floor.
“Ready?” I asked.
“What happened here?”
“Nothing exciting,” I said, reaching for my shoes. “Let’s go eat.”
She waved me off and walked over to Brand. “Did you underestimate him?” she asked.
Brand twisted his wrist into place and cradled it. “What was your first clue?”
“You getting your ass kicked. Something you want to tell me?”
Brand shrugged. “He’s a lot faster and stronger than I remember.”
“Go sit down, Brand.” Kelly pointed toward the bleachers that lined the wall. The other wall had floor-to-ceiling mirrors. She stared at me for a moment, kicked off her shoes, then assumed a fighting stance.
“You too?” I asked.
“Just a quick run-through.”
“Don’t hurt me too bad.”
I dropped my shoes, stepped back onto the mats, and approached her. I bowed then took up a fighting stance. We circled eac
h other while Brand watched. Kelly kicked at me, but I stepped back to avoid it and slapped her foot away. She grinned.
“You have been training.”
“A bit.”
She darted forward with a few quick strikes. I dodged the first one, but she tagged me with the second. It hurt but I didn’t let on. Instead, I snapped a low kick. Kelly easily avoided it, but I almost got her with a quick punch. She slapped my hand away, tried to catch it, but I was just fast enough to break her grip. She tilted her head to the side a bit, and I knew from her look that she was impressed.
We circled again. I focused all my attention on her. I kept my eyes mostly on her feet and midsection, never looking into her eyes. I needed to rely on touch and speed and anticipation. Looking at an opponent’s face tends to be distracting.
The door to the dojo swung open, and when I turned to see who was there, Kelly grabbed me, flipped me, and slammed me down onto the mat so hard, the thud echoed off the walls. My breath burst from my lungs, and before I could blink, Kelly twisted me into an arm bar and her knee jammed into my jaw, forcing my face to the mat.
I heard clapping.
Kelly released me and I rolled over to see Mike Endar standing at the edge of the mat, wearing his standard black business suit and sunglasses. He kept clapping his hands.
“Bravo!” he said.
I got to my feet and worked the kinks out of my neck. “Mike,” I said. “What brings you here?”
“I have a job for you, and since you owe me one, you can’t refuse.”
CHAPTER TWO
JONATHAN SHADE
Mike removed his sunglasses when we entered the restaurant. He’d refused to speak on the ride over, so Kelly turned on some music to fill the silence, in this case, it was an Imagine Dragons CD.
Mike didn’t bring up anything business related during the meal either because that would be rude. When the waitress approached with the check, Mike tossed a credit card on the tray before she could set it on the table. She thanked him and walked off.
“Business expense,” Mike said.
“Works for me,” I said.
“Where’s your pretty little ghost?”
“Esther is at my place watching a marathon of Being Human on TV.”
“British or American?”