Gifts for Yaegaki
Erik Lehnsherr hunts the things that go bump in the night.
He’s done so since he was a child, since the first time his mother put a knife in his hand and told him how to use it, told him why he should.
But ten years alone on the road has caught up to him, left him wrung out and longing for a place to rest, recharge, get his head back on straight. Though nowhere has ever truly felt like home, he heads straight for New York City, a place that’s always had more to offer him by way of warmth and comfort than any other. What he finds when he gets there, however, is several miles south of anything approaching restful. Old acquaintances, old memories, and a mysterious stranger who has him forgetting all his rules — Erik soon realizes there are decisions he needs to make, before circumstances intervene and make them for him. Otherwise, he might not like the result.
At the center of the round chamber lay a shattered table, a massive slab of polished black stone broken in six different great shards that had toppled towards the center. Once upon a time, this had been a great, revered castle. Now it was nothing but cold ruins and distant whispered legends. It made the hair on the back of his neck and along his arms stand on end. This place was reeking with power just waiting to be unleashed—some sort of crawling creeping magic that tasted by ozone and burnt sugar on his tongue.
Charles was very still at his side, eyes half-lidded and dark as he let the waves of magic crash against him, like tall angry waves against a rock.