The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) by Brad Magnarella (best business books of all time txt) 📕

and sizes, which I immediately eliminated from consideration—they took too long to train. No amulets for me, either. God only knew what kinds of enchantments hid inside them. I moved down to the weapons. There were no sword canes, but my gaze lingered on a pair of maces. I opened the case’s glass lid and picked one up. It was light in my grasp, easy to wield. I looked over the flanged metal head. Its ambient energy suggested silver in the alloy. Between the sharp edges were cloudy blue stones, five in all.

I held the mace away from me and said, “Illuminare.”

The weapon stiffened in my grip as a new energy coursed through it. The stones glowed, dimmed, and then burst with blue light. With another Word, I willed the light into a shield. I moved the mace into various defensive positions, assessing the shield for strength.

After another moment, I nodded and dispersed it.

I reached into the case for the second mace, this one featuring a single blue stone at the weapon’s apex. I looked from the stone to a blood slave trotting past in full armor.

“A test?” I asked Zarko.

“Very well,” he replied.

I aimed the mace at the armored blood slave and shouted, “Vigore!”

Like with the other mace, this one took a moment to process the peculiarities of my energy. Following a brief sputter, the weapon kicked in my hand and channeled the force. The emerging blast nailed the blood slave in the side and sent him skittering across the floor.

“I can use these,” I said, fitting the maces into my leather belt.

Though not my sword and staff, they were worthy replacements. I glanced over the rest of the weapons, but nothing grabbed me. Beyond the end of the display case, a large round door stood in a steel section of wall. It looked like the entrance to a bank vault.

“What’s in there?” I asked.

“Our contingency plan, Mr. Croft.”

I turned at Arnaud’s voice to find the vampire transformed. Gone were the beige playboy suit and Italian leather shoes. He strode up in full armor, a burgundy cape flowing behind him. Banded mail gleamed over his forearms and chest. Beneath his chainmail suit, which flared into a long skirt, metal boots rang over the floor in a martial rhythm. He could have been Vlad the Impaler, on whom the original legend of Dracula was based.

“Contingency?” A horrible thought struck me.

“I know you believe me a monster,” Arnaud said, picking up on the emotion, “but even I have my limits. As a werewolf-vampire hybrid she would have made a powerful weapon, yes, but you will not find my daughter inside. She is far, far from here. And though I’d rather not say where that is or what she is doing, I assure you that the mayor would be proud.”

I relaxed at the knowledge that Alexandra was safe, likely in school somewhere.

“As for the contingency, there is an element of kinship there, I suppose.” Arnaud lowered a studded metal helmet over his mane of white hair. His pale, predatory eyes peered from a pair of slanted holes. “Though let’s hope we never need it,” he said. “Have you found what you needed?”

I nodded, touching my two maces. “This is just a defensive stand, right?”

“Asserting our rightful place in the city,” Arnaud reaffirmed. “Men!”

The blood slaves fell into formation behind him. From a side room, two more slaves appeared, straining to lead an armored warhorse. I stepped back as the giant black animal snorted and reared its head. I could see by its sunken red eyes that it had joined the ranks of the undead.

Arnaud accepted the reins and climbed deftly onto the horse’s gilded saddle. Another blood slave handed up a long sword, which Arnaud held at his side. He trotted the horse toward a barren wall opposite the elevators. The rest of us followed. The horse stopped in front of the wall and pawed the floor with a thick hoof, its coat covered in an oily lather. From deep inside the wall, a pair of clunks sounded. Without warning, the entire wall fell out before a set of heavy iron chains caught it.

Black smoke and battle sounds flooded in. Through a hazy light, I could make out several downtown buildings. One was on fire. The wall clanked out the rest of the way, like a drawbridge.

Arnaud canted his head toward me. “Try to stay close, Mr. Croft.”

The wall banged down to become part of a broad ramp that descended to Wall Street. Arnaud raised his sword straight overhead and aimed it forward. “To battle!” he cried as the horse charged outside.

“To battle!” the blood slaves echoed and followed.

I joined them, and we poured down the ramp.

27

Led by a vampire on an undead horse, our nightmare force emerged onto Wall Street. Around us, stone buildings rose steeply into smoke and coughing antiaircraft fire.

In the adrenaline-pumping confusion, it took me a moment to get my bearings. The Federal Hall building coming up on our right helped. It was the site of the fae’s lower portal. The vampires’ security forces and blood slaves that ringed the building were facing inward, in case anything tried to come through.

We veered left, pulling my eyes from the building. South?

“I thought the fight was at the Wall!” I shouted up at Arnaud.

“The other executives are taking their battalions there,” Arnaud said. “However, there’s been a breach in the subway line. A pack of wolves mean to attack from the rear. We’ll head them off at Bowling Green Plaza.”

Though Arnaud wore an earpiece, he used it to communicate with his human security forces—the vampires were psychically linked to one another as well as to their slaves. So when Arnaud shouted for his battalion to split up, I understood the verbal order to be for effect. He was enjoying playing general. The slaves coursed around us like quicksilver, disappearing into the canyons that ran every which way in the oldest section of the city.

“Your hand,” Arnaud called, reaching toward