by Sara Snow
Shadows darkened my father’s face so I couldn’t see his expression. He paced around the entryway, raking through his hair with his fingers the way he always does when he’s on edge.
“Come to the training room,” he said. “We’ll pack up your weapons while I tell you what’s going on.”
I’d been to the training room a few times, had even practiced fighting with Eli there once or twice. Mostly, I stayed in shape by working construction, lifting weights, and running. But I’d never been offered the use of any of these weapons. Whatever was going on tonight, it had to be serious.
“We’ve got a new recruit, a young woman named Georgia. She’s a cambion. We found her a few weeks ago when she was being targeted by some low-level demons. As it turns out, she has amazing gifts, which is why she’s being stalked so aggressively. She hasn’t come into her power yet, but as soon as she does, she’s going to be dangerous.”
“Dangerous to you? Or to the demons?” I asked.
“That depends on which side she takes. We want her to join us, of course, but she could easily go the other way. Her father, as it turns out, is a major player in the demon realm.”
“Who is he?”
“None other than King Paimon, one of the kings of hell.”
“Wow. You really are in trouble. Is she close to him?”
“No. She’s only just learned that she’s half-demon, and now she knows her father’s name. She’s still reeling from the shock of finding out that she’s not completely human.”
“Paimon hasn’t been in contact with her then.”
“No, but he’s trying very hard. Georgia had our protection until this morning when she left the warehouse. She went out on her own and was kidnapped. We can’t force her to come back to the Venandi, but we can save her from a gruesome death if we work quickly enough.”
My father chose a sheathed knife, an iron stake, and a compound bow.
“What am I hunting tonight?” I joked, looking at the knife and bow. “A demon or a twelve-point buck?”
My dad wasn’t amused. “We don’t know what kidnapped Georgia, but we have to prepare for the worst.”
“Fair enough. But I have a question for you. Why are you sending me? Why not Eli or Carter?”
“Georgia doesn’t trust us right now. She believes we hid her identity from her so that we could take advantage of her power, and she’s not entirely wrong.”
“Was Carter involved, by any chance?”
My dad’s oldest friend, Carter, was a womanizing half-vamp who was way better-looking than he deserved to be. Carter and I had never gotten along, which was one of the main reasons I didn’t hang out with the Venandi.
“Carter was protecting Georgia, but they argued this morning. I’m worried that even if she’s in trouble, she won’t come back to the warehouse with him.”
“No, she won’t go anywhere with Carter. Not if she has half a brain.”
“Please, Jacob,” said my dad with a pained expression. “This isn’t the time to be petty. You’re an objective outsider, and that’s what we need right now. More importantly, you’re the best archer in Chicago and we need to be stealthy tonight. Paimon’s got his minions out for Georgia, and they get bolder every time we fight them.”
“Kingston? I think I found Georgia.”
A male voice, blurry with sleep, broke into our conversation. Jose stood behind us. A pair of torn jeans and a flannel shirt hung from his thin frame. He had lost weight since the last time I saw him, and from what I could tell, he didn’t have much left to lose. Those dreams must be giving him a run for his money.
My father turned to Jose. “Where? Where is she?”
“She’s outside. I don’t see a lot of detail, but she’s lying on her back.” Jose stopped, his eyes closed in thought.
“Well, that narrows it down,” I said.
My dad gave me a stern look. He knows I don’t buy into all that woo-woo supernatural stuff. Not the way the Venandi do. Being half-angel, I can’t dismiss it all completely, but most of the time I just wish I were a normal twenty-something guy, drinking beer, getting laid, and going to the occasional baseball game.
If my father had seen the way Melanie’s bottom filled out those tight jeans, he would have understood my sardonic tone.
A few years ago, Dad tried to bribe me into joining the Venandi by buying me a longbow. I had always thought archery was for geeks, but when we went to the archery range to try the equipment, I was instantly hooked. Since then, I’d become a regular at the range, but I’d never used the weapon against a demon, and I’d never agreed to join the team. Tonight, I was going to make my big debut as a demon hunter, ready or not.
“She’s outside in a park. There’s a public bathroom made out of cinder blocks with all kinds of graffiti painted on it.” Jose was rattling off the details now. My dad was writing them down on a piece of paper.
“Go on,” he said when Jose paused.
“Georgia’s not there by that bathroom, though. She’s lying on her back, looking up at the sky. There are branches crossing the moon. She’s lying under the trees. She’s waiting for someone, the one who left her there. She’s tied up. And she’s scared, more scared than she’s ever been in her life.”
“Can you give us more details? What do you see nearby?”
Jose shook his head. “I don’t see much, but I hear traffic and music.”
“Hey! I know where he’s talking about,” I said. I’d been so skeptical about Jose’s psychic powers that I hadn’t realized I knew exactly where to find this girl.
“Where?”
“There’s a park where all the kids go to get drunk and high. Not me, of course,” I added quickly when I saw my dad frown. “But I know other people who hung out there a lot. There’s a grove of trees at the edge of the park. No one goes there unless they want to commit a crime or something. The grove is too creepy.”
“And the music? Where is that coming from?” Kingston asked.
“A bandstand. It’s not far from the grove. I’ve been to a few concerts at that park. The grove will definitely be empty if there’s a band playing. That’s probably why the demon took her there. What’s this girl’s name again?”
“Georgia,” Jose said, sounding incredulous that I’d already forgotten.
“What does she look like? Just so I don’t save the wrong girl from being ripped to shreds by a demon.”
“Gorgeous,” Jose said. “She has long black hair and these amazing purple eyes. I’ve never seen a girl who looked like that.”
Still skeptical, I rolled my eyes. But the romantic in me held out hope that Jose’s description wasn’t too far off the mark.
“Well.” I hoisted the compound bow over my shoulder, strapped on the knife, and shoved the stake into my pocket. “Maybe tonight will be more interesting than I thought.”
3
Georgia
As soon as those handcuffs snapped around my wrists, I knew I was in trouble. The “officer” who had supposedly come to my rescue manhandled me out the door of my apartment and into the stairwell. I twisted, flailed, and tried to knee him in the groin, but the demon’s brute force overwhelmed me.
Screaming hadn’t worked so well, either. I screamed until my throat was raw, but none of my kindly neighbors even bothered to peek out their doors to witness the crime taking place in the hallway.
What do you expect? All your neighbors probably have warrants out for their arrest.
The demon hauled me down the stairs, my body thumping and bumping against the bannisters like a sack of potatoes. In guttural tones, he ordered me to shut up, but I kept screaming in the vain hope that someone in this building had a trace of humanity left in their soul.
No such luck.
When he dragged me through the double doors and shoved me into the back of his car, I managed to land one sharp kick to his crotch. Apparently, demons don’t have the same reproductive equipment as human males because the blow didn’t even faze him. Any man would
be doubled over in agony, clutching his aching nuts.
To my dismay, none of the people hurrying by on the sidewalk stopped to help me. They probably thought I was just another junkie or prostitute being dragged off to jail by one of Chicago’s finest. And as they scuttled home to watch TV over microwaved meals, those bystanders probably felt reassured that one more piece of trash was being removed from the city streets.
“Let me go!” I cried, as the demon slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “I’m no use to you—I’m human. I have no power. Please, just let me out of here! I promise not to tell anyone that you faked being a cop.”
I made the last plea in a pitiful whimper, but we both knew I was full of crap. Given half a chance, I would rip this fucker apart.
“Shut up! I am driving now,” the demon said, his words halting and guttural.
I kicked at the windows and slammed my cuffed hands back and forth against the car’s interior. The demon turned around and shoved a rag in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but the cloth blocked my tongue, muffling my screams. I tasted something sweet. The car lurched into traffic. I kicked and squirmed for as long as I could until my limbs went weak.
The last thing I saw before the world went dark was Carter’s face. So handsome, so smug, telling me that I wouldn’t be safe without him and the Venandi looking out for me.
Damn if I was going to let him be right.
I awoke on my back. My eyes blinked open to the sight of tree branches delicately crisscrossing over a pale full moon. The ground underneath me was hard and cold. Tiny rocks and sticks dug into my back. I had no idea how much time had passed, but I knew that I was no longer in the back of a car. I tried to twist and turn, but I’d been tied even more securely so that my legs couldn’t move.
Music blared in the distance. I heard the rhythmic bang of drums, the electric screech of a guitar. For a second, I was back in junior high, listening to a rock concert from a hideout behind the stadium in one of the desolate towns where I grew up.
But this wasn’t junior high. Turning my head, I saw that my wrists had been tied to stakes in the ground. My ankles were restrained, too. I was pinned on my back like a frog in a high school biology class.
Which meant that the next step was dissection.
I tried to scream for help, but my throat was still plugged with that fucking chemical-soaked rag that the demon had shoved in my mouth. I looked wildly around me and saw nothing but tree trunks surrounding me, silent witnesses to my upcoming death.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the ruddy glow of charcoal burning. Why would anyone start a barbecue out here in this isolated place?
I couldn’t think of a single reason that didn’t involve torture.
I bucked up and down, jerking my arms and legs to try to free myself from the ties. Nothing seemed to work. This demon, whoever he was, knew what he was doing.
“Stop trying to escape, bitch. You don’t have a chance.”
As if summoned by my thoughts, the demon appeared. He had taken off his bogus cop costume, and as he stood over me, I saw his muscle-bound body silhouetted in the moonlight. Whoever these demons were, they must spend most of their time working out. His bald head was a gruesome, contorted mask, a clumsy replica of a human face. Two horns protruded from the top of his malformed skull.
Too bad these creeps don’t have the brains to match their bodies.
In the darkness that engulfed us, his gleaming red eyes and the glow of the coals offered the only light.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. So I went limp. With no other option at my fingertips, I chose survival mode. My history as a foster kid had taught me how to become totally passive when I had run out of options. A lifeless body wouldn’t satisfy the cruelty of my abusers.
Of course, I was dealing with a totally different breed of attacker now. And his agenda went way beyond victimizing a lost little girl.
“You are Paimon’s daughter,” the demon announced. “Swear that you belong to him, or you will lose your human form. You will be nothing but a pile of offal and smoke.”
He stood straddling me, and I wished more than anything that I could get one more jab at his crotch.
Finally, I summoned the strength to spit out the wadded rag that filled my mouth.
“Fuck you,” I croaked. I worked up enough saliva to spit in the direction of his hideous, misshapen face, but most of the fluid slid back onto my own chin.
My pathetic attempt at rebellion made him laugh. His laughter was eerily high-pitched, a metallic cackle that made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
The demon reached down and, with his taloned hand, ripped the shirt off my chest. My mind flashed back to an image of a female corpse under the Navy Pier, the girl who had been brutally murdered by another one of Paimon’s minions. Her chest had been flayed open, her heart exposed for all to see.
She had died in the name of Paimon. The demon who was supposedly my father. How could I have come from a monster like that?
The demon stepped over me and walked to the heap of burning coals. He pulled a long metal rod out of the fire and held it over my bare left breast.
“Swear allegiance to your father,” he growled. “Once you’re branded with his mark, you’ll be one with him.”
He held up the long rod. The end of the rod formed a single letter that smoldered against the moon. I remembered the burn in the dead girl’s chest, the blackened character that resembled the letter P.
The rod descended toward my chest. I braced my body for the searing burn. Tears scalded my cheeks and I squeezed my eyes shut.
Holy shit, he’s going to burn me.
A high whistle tore through the air, followed by a sharp thud.
The demon grunted and lurched forward. He landed on my body, his massive weight knocking the wind out of me.
This is it. I’m dead.
But I wasn’t dead. In fact, the demon’s weight had knocked the stakes out of the ground, freeing my arms. I pushed against him with all my might, and he rolled onto his side. A long rod, still quivering from its flight, protruded from the monster’s back.
An arrow. Someone had shot the asshole with an arrow. The demon bucked and heaved as he tried to grasp the object that pierced his flesh. I kicked my legs free and struggled to my feet, shaking away the ropes that held me to the stakes. With all the energy of my pent-up terror, I kicked at the monster’s belly and groin. I stepped on his throat and planted my foot on his forehead.
“Die, asshole!” I shouted. I kicked and kicked until his skull gave way with a sickening crunch under my foot.
“Stand back! I got this.”
The mystery archer stepped out of the darkness, drew back his bow, and shot another arrow straight into the demon’s heart. The demon let out a loud squeal as his body writhed, dissolving into a foul green mist.
Gasping, I stood over the smoking pile of shit. I looked up into the face of a man who seemed almost as stunned as I was. He held his c bow at an angle, as if he expected the sizzling heap to jump back to life.
We stared at each other. Though the light from the demon’s barbecue pit was dying out, I could see that the guy who saved me was about my age. Tall. Good-looking, with sculpted cheeks and thick blond hair. When he smiled at me, a dimple flashed in his right cheek. Under any other circumstances, that fantastic smile would have lit me up from head to toe.
Somehow, he looked very familiar.
“Who are you?” I panted. Suddenly aware that I was still topless, I folded my arms across my chest.
“I’m Jacob. I came to save you. Or at least to make sure you’re not walking around half-naked.” He set down the bow, took off his flight jacket, and handed it to me. I quickly pulled the jacket over my body, then brushed the dirt off my legs.
“Thanks for thinking of me,” I said. “But who told you I needed saving? I could have handled this myself.”
“Really? You weren’t doing such a great job a few minutes ago.”<
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In the background, the band was playing a rock song that I vaguely remembered from my teenage years. The music set off a cascade of unwelcome memories. Broken promises, empty dreams.
“I’m okay. I’m fine. Who the hell sent you?”
The guy seemed dumbstruck for a second, then he regained his composure and righted the bow that he held in front of his chest.
“My dad. I mean, Kingston.”
“Oh, great. The Venandi. Will they ever leave me alone?”
“Not as long as you need them. And apparently, you do need them.”
I could see that now. But I wasn’t about to reveal any weakness to this person who had shown up out of nowhere with his bow and arrow, like Cupid with an attitude.
Jacob held out his hand and, sucker that I am, I took it. I knew now why he looked so familiar. His clear eyes, his chiseled cheekbones, his generous mouth all belonged to Kingston. If I hadn’t been buzzing with the adrenaline from a demon fight, I might have found him attractive.
“Come back to the warehouse with me. My father can tell you all about who you are, where you came from. Don’t you want to know the truth? Maybe get a shower and something to eat?”
He smiled, flashing that dimple again. Something softened inside me, but I wasn’t going to back down yet.
“Sounds like you’re trying to bribe me.”
“Hey, whatever it takes,” he said. “I’ll even throw in drinks and dessert.”
“I’m not going to go back to the Venandi that easily. I’ll fight the demons on my own. I’ve done it so far.”
“That’s the problem, Georgia. It takes strength to admit you need help. Am I right? Let me take you to the warehouse, at least for the night. If you stay here in this creepy park by yourself, it’ll break my heart. And you wouldn’t want to do that after I saved your life, would you?”
I gave him a long look. “I guess I owe you one.”
His smile broadened into a grin. “That’s good enough for me. Come on, let’s go.”
I let Jacob put his arm around me and guide me out of the grove of trees. The strength of his arm, the weight of his body, felt better than I was ready to admit. I hated the fact that the Venandi were watching me, but after what I’d been through, I couldn’t exactly say that they were wrong to.