Tricks and Treats

  Tricks And Treats

  Nox: Night Cursed: Book Two

  J.C. Diem

  Copyright © 2020 J.C. DIEM

  www.jcdiem.com

  All rights reserved. Published by Seize The Night Publishing Agency.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Titles by J.C. Diem in chronological order:

  Chapter One

  CLOUDS COVERED THE thin sliver of the moon, casting deep pools of gloom between the streetlamps that were powered by magic. It was summer and the air was warm and still. The weather in Nox was unpredictable, but I had a feeling it was going to rain soon. After what felt like an eternity living in the City of Night, I’d become attuned to its moods.

  I was currently on patrol in the Miscellaneous Beings’ District to the south of the city. I’d heard uneasy murmurs that the walking dead were growing restless. I was checking the cemeteries to make sure they were secure. Every now and then, the undead would break free from their prisons. Whenever that happened, havoc reigned until I could either kill them, or herd them back to their prisons.

  The area near the cemeteries was almost devoid of the living. The ghosts were out and about, annoying people and haunting buildings. They would return to their graveyards before daybreak. Zombies, ghouls and armed skeletons shuffled, lurched and shambled around behind the high stone walls of the graveyards. They were moaning hungrily as they ceaselessly searched for a way out.

  Bones creaked and weapons that were clutched in skeletal hands scraped against the wall as I walked towards the entrance to the biggest boneyard in the city. Hearing a metallic snapping noise in the distance, I muttered a curse and broke into a sprint. The undead were stupid, but ghouls sometimes dredged up the intelligence to figure out that the wrought iron gates were the weakest point. It was just as well their memories were wiped clean each night, or they would break free far more often.

  By the time I reached the gate to the graveyard, the inhabitants were pouring out. Rotting zombies wearing tattered clothing were the slowest. They lurched along with their arms raised, pining for brains. Ghouls were faster and shambled more quickly with their milky eyes darting around in search of prey. Their clothing was as tattered as the zombies’. Skeletons were fleshless, unclothed and surprisingly fast at times. They were armed with a variety of weapons.

  Shouts of alarm sounded from a couple of Night Cursed witches who were out for a stroll. One of them used her wand to send a burst of red light high into the air. Any law enforcement officers who were within sight of the distress signal would come running to aid me in my fight.

  Both witches wore the black dresses and pointy black hats that were typical of their kind. They used their wands to create a magical barrier to protect themselves from the horde of shambling undead.

  Wrath’s holy glow was constant whenever we were near monsters that didn’t have a pulse. He reacted to demons the same way. His light grew brighter as I closed in on the group of twenty or so zombies, ghouls and skeletons that had the witches surrounded. “Close the gate to the cemetery!” I shouted to a skeletal gardener who was trimming a tree nearby. It was armed with shears rather than a real weapon, so it wasn’t dangerous. Its skull bobbed up and down when it nodded, then it loped over to the gate and pushed it shut before more of its kin could escape. It wedged its shears into the place where the chains had been to bar the gate, then waited for more orders.

  “Kill these horrible things before they eat us!” one of the witches screeched at me. Their magic couldn’t hold out forever beneath the onslaught of flailing arms, gnashing teeth and bashing weapons. A lot of Night Cursed witches were hideous, with warts, long noses and straggly hair. These two were no exception. They looked almost identical, except for their hair color. One was a redhead and the other had stringy black tresses.

  I wasn’t allowed to use Wrath to permanently end the monsters’ lives, but I was free to use my silver sword to kill them for the night. My blade beheaded a zombie and gangrenous green blood splattered on the witches’ magical barrier and on me. The black brooch I wore on my left arm morphed into a shield. A Santa Claus and a leprechaun had gifted me with the brooch of a dragon and a coin. They’d become combined into a magical shield. Wrath protected me by using the flat of his blade to bash our enemies in their heads and his handle to knock my foes down. I was used to him acting independently. I held him in my left hand as I continued to hack and slash at my opponents with my sword.

  When the last skeleton’s head had been removed from its shoulders, I received shaky nods of thanks from the witches. “Let’s get out of here,” the redhead said, then they hurried away. They’d been kind enough to stick around to act as bait for the hungry horde long enough for me to kill them.

  A couple of sexy female cops wearing scandalously short uniforms came running moments after the battle ended. They skidded to a halt when they saw the pile of bodies. “It’s okay,” I told them. “I managed to contain the threat.”

  “Are you sure about that, Ms. Evora?” the blonde asked doubtfully and pointed her baton at the cemetery.

  “It looks like more of them are about to escape,” the brunette added.

  I turned to see the skeleton that was guarding the gate was desperately trying to hold back the growing tide. A growing band of undead were pushing against it and were slowly forcing it open. “Come on, Wrath,” I said. “Let’s herd the monsters back into their pen.” Wrath pulsed once in agreement and I ran to help the beleaguered skeleton with the officers hot on my heels.

  The zombies and ghouls flinched from Wrath’s holy light when he blazed brightly. Not even the fleshless skeletons could withstand the divine power that had been infused inside the staff. Their teeth clicked together in pain and they backed away. “Open the gate and let me in and I’ll drive them back,” I instructed the skeleton gardener. “You need to get a new padlock for the gate
.” The old one had snapped and it was lying on the ground next to the black chain. The skeleton nodded and lifted its shears out of the way.

  “We’ll hold the gate shut while the skeleton retrieves the padlock,” the blonde cop offered.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I replied, gratefully accepting their assistance.

  I slipped inside and held Wrath out in front of me to force the mob backwards. I glanced over my shoulder to see the skeleton loping away and the two sexy police officers holding the gate shut. Then I turned my attention back to my task. My shield saved me from being skewered by rusty weapons as I shoved the crowd away. It would take at least a few minutes for the skeleton to get to one of the sheds where their equipment was stored and return with a padlock. I had to keep the inmates away from the gate and stop them from overwhelming me and dining on my flesh.

  It was easy to distract the shambling dead. Their memories were far worse than the rest of our kind. For them, out of sight truly was out of mind. Now that their attention had been diverted from the possibility of escape, they became intent on killing me. My silver sword went into action again as I lopped off arms, sliced off heads and hacked open rotting stomachs.

  Wrath increased the intensity of his holy light to keep the throng from rushing me in large numbers. The zombies and ghouls were reluctant to close in and began to fall back. Skeletons surged forward and began swinging their axes, swords, clubs and maces at me. While they were strong, they were clumsy and unskilled. They herded me backwards until I tripped over a headstone and fell to the ground. An axe whooshed towards my face and I raised my shield to block it. I glanced up at the headstone to see it didn’t have any words inscribed on it. A balloon was etched into the stone, which was much newer than the other ones. If I had to guess, I’d say it had only been there for about a decade.

  A clanging sound came from the gate and I scrambled to my feet. The skeleton gardener had found a new padlock. It was rattling it against the bars to let me know it was ready to install it.

  “You’d better get out of there before they overwhelm you!” the brunette officer called out.

  I felt no shame at fleeing from the undead. There were hundreds of them in this section of the graveyard alone and there was only one of me. As the Guardian of Nox, I was an accomplished warrior, but not even I was good enough to survive a fight against that many enemies.

  I slipped out through the gate, then helped the officers hold it shut against the walking corpses when they lurched in my wake. My shield remained in place, blocking the weapons that poked through the bars and were aiming for my face. “Hurry!” I urged my skeletal helper. It clicked its teeth at me in annoyance at being rushed, then managed to get the thick chain back into place.

  “Eww, they reek!” the blonde cop complained, wrinkling her nose at the smell of rot that wafted through the bars to coat us.

  The padlock clicked shut and we stepped back to see if it would hold. Rotting and skeletal hands grasped the bars and attempted to break the gate open again, but the padlock was secure.

  “Another crisis has been averted,” the brunette said in satisfaction. They high fived each other, then gave me a respectful nod as a fellow crime fighter.

  “Thanks for your help, officers,” I said.

  “We’re just doing our job, ma’am,” the blonde said. They sashayed off in their high heels, adjusting their boobs and finger combing their hair back into order.

  “Good work, dude,” I said to the skeleton. The skeleton nodded, then picked up its shears and went back to its usual job. Now that it was no longer needed, my shield shrank back down to a brooch again. “It’s just business as usual in Nox,” I muttered, then went to patrol the other graveyards to make sure the inmates were going to remain contained.

  Chapter Two

  MY HOPES THAT ONLY one small group of monsters would escape from their confinement were dashed when I reached the final graveyard. The padlocks on the other cemeteries were holding, but I found that the last one had broken open as well. A flood of zombies, ghouls and skeletons were pouring out. They were heading straight for the entertainment zone where they could find the largest amount of food.

  Magical red flares were sent skyward by witches and wizards, then a battle erupted. It wasn’t often that chaos broke out. When it did, it was always memorable, for me anyway. The rest of the Night Cursed would forget all about it after a few nights had passed. The ones who died tonight would forget instantly. The uncursed would remember, of course. Every time there was an outbreak like this, they clamored for something to be done about my kind even though none of them were ever hurt. Night Cursed couldn’t attack the uncursed. Not unless they were being possessed by a demon.

  All this flitted through my mind as I raced to rescue some trapped civilians from the hungry zombies. My silver blade became coated in green blood as I sliced my way through to the victims. When I saw their black and white striped shirts, black pants, white gloves and white greasepaint on their faces, I was tempted to let the zombies eat them. I hated mimes, but it was my job to save them. After I finished cutting the undead down, I had to endure the hugs and the silent, overexaggerated thanks of the mimes.

  “You’re welcome, but I have more people to rescue, guys,” I said when they showed no signs of letting up. I extricated myself from them and helped a bunch of cops take down some armed skeletons. The sexy blonde and brunette officers were among them. Neither of them carried guns, but they were skilled with their batons.

  Firefighters, more police, soldiers and marines turned up. Even CIA and FBI agents had been called in. I saw Steve Banner, my bestie’s boyfriend, using a firehose to blast some ghouls away from a small group of prostitutes. The whores were visiting from Pirate Cove and had come to have their fortunes told. Quilla hated reading tarot cards for the Night Cursed because nothing ever changed for them. Their fortunes were always exactly the same, night after night. Fortunately, most of her clients were uncursed. She was in high demand because of how accurate her readings were.

  Tall, muscular, blond and blue-eyed, Steve had a dimple in his chin and was strikingly handsome. His crew of hot firemen handled their hoses with ease as they used strong blasts of water to rescue the civilians. A few Night Cursed shifters had arrived and were tearing into the zombies and ghouls. They knew better than to attack the living when they saw me. For them, this was a night of fun. They usually spent their time hunting in the shifter woods. Outbreaks like this gave them a chance to hunt something other than animals. If I’d arrived late to the party, some of the victims would have had werewolf, werebear, werecat and other types of shifter bite marks on their bodies.

  We finally managed to defeat the hundred or so undead horrors, then herded the rest back to their graveyard. I was covered in gore and was in desperate need of a shower. The heavens opened up as if obeying my wish and I became drenched within a couple of minutes.

  “We were lucky the undead came from the smallest cemetery,” Steve said to me as one of his men was installing a new padlock.

  “There was a small outbreak at the biggest cemetery earlier,” I told him.

  His eyebrows went up, then drew down in a frown. “Is that normal?” he asked me, making sure no one else was close enough to hear us. His men were rolling up their hoses and were stashing them in their antiquated firetruck. Like most of the carriages, it ran on magic rather than being pulled by cursed werebeasts.

  “Not really,” I replied. “Usually, only one padlock at a time gives way like that.”

  “Hmm,” Steve mused, then bent down to pick up the broken lock to examine it. “I think this has been tampered with,” he said.

  I leaned over to look at it more closely, but it vanished from his hands. It was considered trash now and all rubbish was disposed of magically. “Did you see how it had been tampered with?” I asked.

  Steve’s uniform was stuck to his skin, showing off his magnificent body. If I hadn’t been in love with my hot doctor boyfriend, I would have lusted after him
just like a lot of the bystanders were doing. A group of cursed witches were eying him like he was lunch. “It looked like the mechanism had been corroded,” he whispered. “It should take years for that to happen.”

  “The lock only broke a few months ago,” I said. “Come to think of it, the padlocks on the cemeteries have been failing more often this past year or so.” Although my friends and I could remember most things, time was hard to keep track of.

  “Do you think it’s deliberate?” Steve queried.

  My response was disturbed. “It sure as hell seems like it.”

  “It would be an epic disaster if all of the undead broke out of their graveyards at once,” Steve said. “Why would anyone want that to happen?”

  “Good question,” I murmured. “We’ll have to ask the others if they have any ideas about this.” The boys had established a weekly games night when they would take a few hours off work to bond. Their group consisted of Steve Banner, Captain Jasper Shortbeard and my main squeeze, Travis Napier. My two best friends, Madam Quilla Astrid and Lady Marigold, hung out with the men to gossip about whatever was going on in Nox. I joined them whenever I could, but my job didn’t always allow me to take a few hours off.

  Speaking of Travis, he and his team of sexy nurses had arrived to assist the injured. Other medical teams had been called in and were tending to the wounded as well. Night Cursed beings could heal all wounds, no matter how dire they were. Limbs that had been severed returned to our bodies and even death became reversed come the following night. Only Wrath could permanently kill our kind, but I hadn’t used him on any of my foes tonight.

  I ambled over to my boyfriend and he gave me a distracted smile. A few inches taller than me, Travis had a ripped body, dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, a square jaw, chiseled cheekbones and full lips. His nurses would have been far more than just his helpers if he hadn’t been in love with me. They would have been his willing harem. “Hey, babe,” he said, then turned his attention back to his patient. The mime was unconscious and was bleeding from a gash in his head. Magical folk had erected barriers above the medical teams to keep the pounding rain off them and their patients.