The Aberrant Sword

by Rebecca Ripley

  I sigh deeply and close my eyes for a second, trying to chase away any negative thoughts. “She will, right?”

  “There’s a high chance she will, yes. Despite the severity of her injuries, her spine was left mostly untouched by the fall, with just some light bruising we have already taken care of.”

  “Thank God.” I mutter.

  The man nods his head and stands back up. “However, even if everything goes well for Gina, she won’t be able to go back to hunting monsters for at least a year, and that’s a generous estimate right there.” He says as he takes me to a chair and table by the coffee machine.

  “Don’t worry, Isabelle. We’ll do everything within our power to make sure she gets the care that she deserves. As for you, go home, get some rest.

  I sigh and rub my eyes. I am pretty tired. I did not sleep a wink last night. I went straight up to bed. I did not want to talk to my parents about what happened. I feel so ashamed. I screwed up so bad.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you again for your time, doctor. Please keep me informed if Gina’s condition changes.”

  “Of course. Wait here; I’ll have a taxi take you home.”

  Chapter 8

  I drop face first onto the bed. The soft covers caress my skin as I close my eyes and lie there listening to the wind tugging at my windows. I let the little sounds of this old house wash over me. The tapping of the pipes in the wall, the creaking wood of the windowpanes, the soft dripping of the rain on the roof.

  I lift my head to look at the old clock on my bedside table. Almost midnight. I look at the hunter gear spread out over the bed. Not that it did me any good to help Gina.

  Salvatore was right. I need to rest. Me being in the hospital worrying won’t help Gina. She will now need to get through this with the help of her doctors. I can’t protect or save her.

  I grunt into the covers and try to ban any more negative thoughts from my head. I feel the frustration bubble up in my stomach. My fingers wrap themselves around the thumb phone Gina and I used on our hunt. My arm shoots up, slinging the phone against the wall. The sturdy little thing ricochets off the wall and lands somewhere under my bed.

  I let out another frustrated grunt sliding off the bed to pick up the phone. I am a bit of a muddle head and I just know that If I don’t pick it up now, I’ll forget where I left it – or threw it in this case.

  We use old thumb phones as they are safer and more difficult to hack or take over with a virus. You might think Hunters and Demons are quite old-school, but nothing is less true. My father once hunted a demon who ‘worked’ as a broker in the City of London – the financial heart of Europe. The bastard was plucking people poor and slushing money to demon clans all over Europe. We never found out what the money was used for.

  I sigh in frustration as my grabbing fingers do not seem to find the little cell phone. It can’t have gone that far? My fingers brush past discarded clothes and dust bunnies until they find the intricate shapes on what I know to be the little jewellery box my grandmother left me.

  My heart bleeds thinking of my grandmother. She was a force of nature, that woman. The youngest female hunter to ever make it to Grand Master of the Guild’s council and a tough nut to crack. But to me she was all hugs and kisses. She would always have a candy bar up her sleeve, and I remember how she went above and beyond to cook my favourite food – even though she was a terrible cook.

  I lift the box off the floor and sit down on the bed. It feels heavy in my lap. The intricate woodwork depicts our family crest: A hunter and a raven next to a tree. I press the hunter and hear the mechanism inside click. “There was supposed to be…” I mumble as I turn the box in my hands. The woodwork around the sides of the box is just as beautiful as the designs on the lid. Vampires and bears, wolves and warlocks… There it is! I turn the little bat and the figure of a little wolf jumps out of the woodwork. I press the wooden wolf and a demon now appears on the right side of the box. I press the demon and turn the bear to open the box. I still got it! Gran and I used to solve puzzles together all the time. She had this box made for me especially a few years before she disappeared.

  The box opens and reveals an intricate silver knife set with rubies and sapphires. The last time I opened the box was a few days after her funeral. The sight of the long, thin stiletto knife was too painful, and I banished the box to the shadows under my bed where I would see it lying around every now and then when I cleaned my room.

  I let my finger slide over the gemstones and the silver carvings in the knife. My grandmother was a big fan of beautiful weapons and this was her favourite. It had been in our family for generations and she believed that the keepers of the knife were destined to do great things. I chuckle at the thought. Me? Great things?

  A subtle tapping by the window grabs my attention. I clutch the knife tight in my hand and get up from the bed. My room is on the second floor and although my window has a balcony, it would be a first for someone to climb up there instead of taking the front door.

  I take a few steps towards my window and stop dead in my tracks. The hairs on my arms stand straight as static wizzes through the air. A Demon. I leave my knuckles bloodless as I clench the dagger in my fist even tighter.

  The fabric of the curtains feels soft against my skin when I try to take a peek at what is knocking on my window. My own reflection stares back at me as the light in the room reflects on the glass outside. It is pitch black and I hear how a slight drizzle starts coming down on the window. My hand looks for the cold metal of the handle and I open the white wooden balcony door into the cold, rainy air.

  Electricity crackles over my skin. I lift the knife, ready to slash my assailant’s throat open. But to my great surprise I was all alone on my little curved balcony.

  I look around, flabbergasted, my heart still beating in my throat. It isn’t until I hear the ruffling of feathers down on the lawn that he grabs my attention. His black wings propel him onto the balcony and before I understand what has been happening, he grabs me by my waist and flies me into my room.

  “Let go of me you brute!” I am in half a mind of plunging the knife into his ass cheek if he does not lift his filthy demon hands from me. I see a smile curve around his lips as he takes a step back. “Glad to see you’re still your old feisty self!” He snickers.

  “How dare you come here.” I snarl. “What are you even doing here.” I pace around him, very much aware of the knife in my hand. Daimon sighs and I see the look in his eyes shift to something softer, something vulnerable.

  “Isabelle.” He takes a step closer. I take one back. I feel my bed nudging in the back of my knees. “I am so sorry for what happened…” He sighs.

  I shake my head. “You don’t get to be sorry.” I snarl at him. “Gina is still in hospital.” I try to fight the tears making their way to my eyes. “We have no idea if she can ever hunt again.” I bite my tongue trying to stop my voice from breaking. “And a hunter who cannot hunt becomes a prey.” I try to edge away from the bed in order to give myself some more space in case I need to attack that piece of shit demon.

  “I honestly am sorry and if I were able to…” He starts. “Oh, you’re your bloody apologies! If you weren’t in the ship in the first place, I would not have almost drowned and my cousin would not be in hospital as we speak!” I want to scream, but the last thing I want is for my parents to discover I have a demon in my room - a demon I did not kill at first sight.

  A frustrated grunt escapes his throat and he pulls something out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket. A green stone refracts the light the lamp on my bedside table all over the walls of my room. “What have you done with my necklace?” I dart towards the chain swinging between his index finger and thumb.

  “Nothing.” He looks at me with that soft look again. “It’s an Indicius.” He states. “An indicator.” I feel the anger ebb away and look at the pendant in the palm of my hand. “Green” I mumble.

  “Magical creature in the area. No imminent dange
r.” He states factual. “So, you are not here to kill me at least…” I sigh as I sit down on the bed, still flabbergasted as I look at the pendant in my hand. I put the knife down on the duvet beside me and look up at Daimon. “Why are you here? You could have just…” I look around, searching for a word. “Mailed me the necklace. I don’t know…”

  Daimon laughs at that remark. It is a full faced smile, happy and honest. If I did not know he was a demon I would have said he was handsome.

  “With our postal system?” He takes a few steps towards me and sits down on his knees. I keep looking at the pendant in my hand, a part of me expecting it to change to red. “I need your help, Isabelle.”

  Chapter 9

  “Why me?” I whisper as he takes the pendant out of my hand and fastens it around my neck again. “I am not even initiated by the council.” I feel his warm fingers touch the back of my neck. I close my eyes as I feel the warmth of his skin disappear. He’s a demon. Why am I not cutting his throat? That is what I am trained to do! Instead I invite him into my room and … what is happening to me?

  “Why did you come to me?” I ask him again, this time a bit sterner. “I have been trained to kill you in at least 150 ways.” I try to give him an angry look. He smiles back and even though I try so hard, I cannot find any evil in his tone, nor his eyes. “That is why I came to you.” He answers my question finally.

  “Your grandma was always a friend to the walkers.” He takes my hands. I want to pull away, but my arms have gone limp. My heart is beating in my throat. What did he just say?

  “What do you mean? A friend of the walkers.” I say quietly. He chooses his words carefully. “Not every demon is bad.” He squeezes my hands lightly. “The infernal ones, Demons that come out of hell… they are probably the kind of demons you have been learning about for the past - what? - 10 years?” He sighs. “Us walkers are… different!” his eyes glow less red. They are more of a warm hazel. “We, the walkers like earth.” He smiles as he gets up to sit next to me on the bed.

  “I was stationed on earth during the second world war.” He started. “Germany, you know.” He turns to me and I can see the honesty in his eyes. “I am not proud of what I did. But after the war ended and we received different orders… I guess I got to know the good side of humanity and living under the clouds, sun and sky. It was the positivity after the war that made me question the side I was fighting on. I moved to London and joined the Walker Society. And that is how I met your grandmother.” I can see a sad smile playing around his lips.

  “What?” I feel my voice break. “What was my grandmother doing with demons?” I spat out. My head was spinning. He squeezes my hands even tighter. “We worked with your grandmother to keep the bad ones out. To make sure that the Infernal were kept at bay.”

  I jump up. My heart racing in my chest. I feel dizzy. “My grandmother? How did I not know this? How could she not tell me about… whatever this is?” I turn towards him, hands clenched in fists. Daimon sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought you did. Honest. She always talked about you and how you would be taking over from her when the day came…”

  I feel like I am going to faint. “Take over?” I sit down again. I feel completely beat. What was happening? Why was this happening?

  Daimon shakes his head and laughs again. “You have her aura, you know.”

  I cock my head. “Aura?”

  Daimon nods. “Some of us can see auras. They are faint, but distinctive. Yours is purple. Just like hers. The colour of power and royalty.” He winks. “Yours vibrates. It’s honestly intoxicating to be around.”

  I shudder at his words. “I never knew that.” I try to force a smile. I just realised how little I actually knew about being a hunter. I was so cocky during my training, so sure that I knew all there was to know about hunting and killing demons and other creatures. And now these last few days thought me that I know absolutely nothing about hunting. And apparently even less about my own grandmother. I try to fight the tears in vain.

  “I had no idea…” I try to swallow away the other tears. “I thought I was so close to her.”

  Daimon throws his arm around me. “You were. She talked about you all the time.” He pulls me closer, but I escape the Demon’s arms. He was lying. My grandmother would never have befriended a… Demon!

  “A few months ago I received a little note in her writing to wait in the boat at a specific date. I had been waiting for a few days until I heard voices. I thought I would be meeting your grandmother. In fact… when I saw you floating in the water on that ship… I first thought it was her, your grandmother from a distant past” He looks at me. “But then I realised it had to be you.”

  “She never told me; you know.” Tears were flowing freely over my cheeks now. “She just…” I grab the knife lying on the cover beside me. “I thought we were close. I thought we could tell each other everything. She was my best friend.”

  Daimon grabs my wrist. “Where did you get that knife from?” His eyes as big as saucers. “Oh this?” I shrugged. “My grandmother left it to me when I turned 16. It’s a family heirloom passed down through our family tree, female hunter to female hunter. Grandmother to mother, mother to daughter.”

  Daimon slaps his hand in front of his mouth. “No.” He gasps. “She…” He looks at me now. Taxing me. “D-Do you realise what that is, Isabelle?” he looks at me with a mix of worry and surprise. “Do your parents know of this?” He looks up. “They probably don’t…”

  “How do you…” My grief turns into anger. “What are you talking about?”

  Daimon gets up and starts pacing up and down the room. At last he shakes his head. “This explains a lot, you know. The dagger you are holding, it is not just an old heir loom, Isabelle… It’s one of the Abarythian artefacts.” He looks from the dagger to me and back.

  “It is one of six legendary artefacts forged in the hell fires that tore through London in 1666 and it was cooled in the gusts of heaven.” He swallows and a pained look appears over his face

  . “These powerful artefacts were given to the original families. Every artefact powerful in its own right. But bring them together and…” He shakes his head again in worry.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, looking at the dagger in my hands. This can’t be some kind of artefact. It’s… I gasp as I remember the tales Grandma used to tell me about the children of night, the children of hell, the children of nature and the hunters who had to protect the children of earth. About powerful weapons and amulets that would help these children in their battle to power - or peace. I had always seen them as bedtime stories.

  “Yes, me too.” He says as if he read my mind. “I always thought they were stories. That they were fool’s gold. That they were to be chased and wanted but never to be found. And then now you are holding the Dagger of Truth?” Daimon kneels before me. “You have no idea about the power you yield, Isabelle. You have no idea what evil forces are looking all over the world for this artefact.” He grabs my wrist. “Promise me you will not tell anybody about this dagger. That you will hide it, keep it safe, but close enough so you can use it when the day comes.”

  He is scaring me. “Yes.” I mumble. “But are you sure?” I ask. Because this can’t be true. My grandmother - the formidable woman she was, would have told me. She would have made sure to tell me whether or not this stupid dagger was important. “How do you know?”

  “Because Asmodeus has been looking for the artefacts for the past 6 years. He has the best sniffers on it. They come knocking on our door every so often with drawings and descriptions and…” He sighs again. “This means you are a target, Isabelle.”

  I take a deep breath and let the waves of fear wash over me. This was just too much. I can’t take it anymore. I run to my balcony and open the double doors wide, taking in the cold wind and the gust of fresh air. I can feel him behind me, his burning eyes piercing my back. I can also feel the sadness in them, the expectations… the weight.

  “I know that
this might all come as a shock to you. But this is important. You are important.” His warm hand lands on my shoulder. “You have no idea how big this is… But this is huge.”

  I shake my head and look up at him over my shoulder. “But why me? Why now?”

  Daimon shakes his head. “I have no idea. I needed help because Asmodeus is up to something. He has been looking for those damn artefacts for the past six years and the gossip for the past few weeks has been nothing but doom and gloom.” He tries to throw me a smile bit I can see in his eyes that he is making it seem less serious than it actually is.

  “What do you mean ‘Doom and Gloom’?” I lean against the stone curve of my balcony.

  “If it is what I think it is, you earth dwellers call it an apocalypse.” He does not meet my eye, but I know he is telling the truth.

  “And why would you want to stop that. You are a demon? The apocalypse would be a net gain for you?” I try to be cynical.

  “Turns out I quite like humans.” He throws me that blinding smile again. “But no, Isabelle. Honestly… You are one of the very few people I can trust. Your grandmother always told me so” He starts. “We need to…”

  “We need to bury this knife and never speak of it again. Ever!” I say as I stomp towards the bed and throw the knife back into the box. Daimon’s eyes light up when he sees the box. “That was your grandmother’s last commission before she disappeared.” He mumbles as he takes the box out of my hands.

  “W-what do you mean?” I stumble over my words, still finding it difficult to connect this tall and handsome demon to my fierce grandmother.

  “She asked me to make this. I carved it. See?” He points at a little vigil in on the bottom of the box. An intricate D with two large wings. “I wonder…” He mumbled as he presses the little demon on the box and ultimately turns the figure. I hear a few clicks and the little demon head pops out of the box revealing a little paper note tucked away in the cavity lined with velvet.