Urban Enemies (Cainsville 4.5)

Back in the home theater area, Hassan looked at Shiraz and nodded. "We're ready."

"Do it."

The blast was quick and Shiraz felt the concussive wave rush up into the basement. But most of it had been directed into the door. Hassan's skill with explosives placed him well above the level of just another demolitions man. He could penetrate a steel bunker given enough time and the right resources.

Shiraz walked back down the corridor to survey the damage. Smoke and debris littered the ground and he coughed once as he tasted the air.

But remarkably, the door still stood.

Intact.

"Hassan."

Hassan stood behind him. "What the--?" He moved forward and checked over the door. But from where Shiraz stood, he could see that the breaching charge had done no damage to the door itself. He frowned. Hassan was not the type to screw something up.

Even still, his right-hand man looked back at him with fear in his eyes, as if scared Shiraz would punish him for his failure. Shiraz waved his hand.

"It happens. Prepare another charge."

Hassan nodded and got to work. He took his time and placed significantly more explosives around the frame. When he was done, Shiraz noticed a line of sweat breaking out along Hassan's hairline.

"All set?"

Hassan faced him. "I do not know what happened the first time, but I swear this time it will blow open."

Shiraz smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "As I said, it happens. Now let us see what your next charge will do."

They moved back to the basement and Hassan initiated the charge. This time, the boom was significantly louder and the room around them shook. More smoke clouded the hallway and Shiraz heard a shower of debris fall. He nodded to himself. This time the door was certainly destroyed.

Except, it wasn't.

And when the smoke cleared, Hassan let out an audible gasp. "It cannot be."

He started to move closer to the door, but Shiraz stayed him with a hand to his shoulder. "Wait. Let me go forward."

Hassan stood aside as Shiraz passed him.

As he approached the door, he could see that the second explosion had done nothing more to the door than the first. It was unscathed. Shiraz frowned. How could this be? Hassan was as reliable as they came with his explosives.

But this.

This was . . . unnatural.

"Magic," he breathed. The door had to be protected by something. Some arcane ritual was at work so that no one could pass without the proper authority.

That was the only possible answer.

But what sort of magic? He knew the vampire race had experts on the old rituals. Invokers could conjure the spirits of dead vampires. And ther

e were others he'd heard whispers of . . . those who could work with magic as easily as they drew a breath.

Indeed, the relic Shiraz sought was rumored to be magical. And full of the sort of power that he so desperately wanted for himself.

But he hadn't expected to run into a magical barrier keeping him from his quest.

He turned back to Hassan and shook his head. "Unless you happen to know any magic, I think we are not going to be able to retrieve anything tonight."

Hassan bowed his head. "The explosives . . . perhaps they were less potent than we required."