by H. M Reilly
Ronnie looked over at Charlotte. “Can you put a log on the fire?”
Charlotte rose from the couch and went to put another log on the fire. With a glance at the small piled, she said, “I’ll be back. Pile’s getting low.”
She grabbed her hoodie from the front closet and headed out the front door, glancing around for her uncle. His truck was still in the driveway. She stepped off the porch and made her way out to the back. She nearly jumped out of her skin as she passed the apple tree. Her uncle stood beneath the yellowing leaves, a red cherry burning at the end of the cigarette. The tarp over the pile of wood flapped with the wind. “You scared me.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“Just grabbing some wood. We’re running low inside.”
“It’s cold out. I can grab it.”
“It’s okay, Uncle Jimmy. I got it,” She crouched down, pilling the wood in her arms. Her uncle stepped over to help, flicking his cigarette across the ground. She felt uneasy around her uncle, almost as if she was picking up on negative energy he was giving off. That feeling had never gone away since that first visit to Hollow’s Creek weeks ago when she overheard him call her little demon spawn. She hated feeling uneasy, and she didn’t need any more negative thoughts plaguing her mind. “Why do you dislike me so much?”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“I’m not stupid. I know I make you uncomfortable,” she said. She turned and started across the yard, picking up an apple lying on the grass. A few leaves fell from the branches, crunching underneath her shoes. She walked up to the porch, stopping just before the stairs. She turned when he called out her name.
“There is a lot you don’t know. There are things you won’t understand. Your dad raised you in Santa Fe for a reason,” he said. “He moved away from Colorado for a reason.”
Charlotte frowned and slowly shook her head. “What…are you talking about? What don’t I know?”
“I’m not the one you should be asking about this, Charlotte. I’m not the one to tell you about your real father.” He stepped past her.
“Uncle Jimmy,” she said, raising her voice. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I need you to tell me.”
“Do you really want to hear what I have to say, Charlotte?”
She stood there, conflicted. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the truth about her real father, but she wanted to know who she was. She needed to know who she really was. She wanted to know what was being hidden from her. His vague remarks just left her confused and wondering.
“I think…I do. I want to know, Uncle Jimmy.”
He turned and tossed the pile of wood onto the porch. He then took the wood from Charlotte and tossed that on top. She waited, wondering what would happen next. Was he going to tell her what she wanted to know? Or was he going to just ignore her request?
“You’re not like other people,” he started. “Our family isn’t normal, either. We came from people who hunt monsters. Your father and I used to hunt monsters, and then you were born.”
“What?”
“I’m not finished. Your real father was a demon. An incubus. An ancient one at that. Your mother, my sister, wasn’t just human either. Her father, your grandpa sitting in the living room, has magical blood. You’re a hybrid.” Jimmy said.
“I’m a…what?”
“You’re a demon hybrid.”
Jimmy turned and went inside. The screen door slammed, and there was a moment of yelling between her grandma and uncle. Charlotte stood on the steps, feeling even more confused than before. She wasn’t even sure she heard a word her uncle said right. She couldn’t wrap her mind around any of the information he gave her. It all sounded like a joke to her, like he was trying to fuck with her.
She moved across the yard and to the back of the house. She didn’t feel like facing her family, especially her uncle. She didn’t want to believe him, but how else could one explain the blackouts she experienced growing up when things grew emotional? Why had her family hidden this information from her for the last twenty-some years? How was she supposed to face them with that information weighing down on her mind?
The yellowing leaves danced in the wind, and a sprinkle of rain fell from the sky. A shadow passed through her vision, and Charlotte froze. Her breathing hitched as she watched the line of trees beyond the yard, but all she saw was the trees. The darkness hid any shadows.
“There’s nothing there,” she whispered to herself. She let out a heavy breath that misted in the air. The rain continued to fall on her as she sat in the nearby swing. The amber hue of her eyes slowly darkened as her pupils widened, trying to process the sudden onset of mixed emotions that came as a result of the conversation with her uncle. A small glow of warmth started to rise within her veins, rising to her face. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
CHAPTER 17
Jimmy pulled out of his parent’s driveway and drove down the unpaved country road, pulling on his sunglasses. Music crackled through the speakers, static breaking through. He glanced in the rearview mirror multiple times, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel nervously. He wondered if he made a mistake telling Charlotte what she wanted to hear, but she was an adult now. He only hoped that giving her that information hadn’t awakened anything within her.
What troubled him most was how much she looked like his baby sister, and how much she acted like a branch of the family. Sometimes he wondered how much of her real father she had inherited. The amber hue of Charlotte’s eyes reminded Jimmy of that man, though. Those preternatural eyes that glowed even in the light. He couldn’t be too careful; she could easily turn against him and the rest of the family, and it needed to be handled.
He reached over and grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the glove compartment, slipping one from the packaging. When the cigarette lighter popped in the center console, he lit the end. The dirt road became bumpy as he reached the end, a stop sign just up ahead. He took another turn down a short dirt road and made his way onto the highway, driving into the city.
Jimmy followed the highway back to the city, but tonight he drove past his usual exit and headed east. He drove all the way to the other end of town, to the part of town where most people owned a gun for self-defense. He drove down the quiet streets, listening to the music flowing from the speakers. For a minute, he forgot what he was searching for. After all, it’d been five years since the last time he found himself downtown.
The mountains loomed over the city as he drove away from the residential areas. He passed several nightclubs and a small handful of liquor stores. A few abandoned buildings appeared along the road and another for lease. A train whistled off in the distance as he approached a red light. A nearby streetlight flickered as he pulled into the parking lot of Viper’s Cavern.
The vibrations of the music seeped through the streets and around the corner, pumping through the building. He crossed the parking lot and walked up the sidewalk. The air was thick with supernatural energy, a sensation he hadn’t felt in over a decade, not since he was still part of the hunting scene. If it weren’t for his declining health problems, he never would have left, but his doctor wasn’t going to make him stop the drinking.
Viper’s Cavern was still the same large, cavernous room he remembered, from the red glow of lights to the candles crowded on the walls to the black furniture. The crowd seemed small tonight. He stepped forward, searching for an empty seat to perch upon. He squeezed in at the end of the bar and called out to the dark-haired bartender, ordering a beer from her. Jimmy glanced around the room, waiting for his beer.
“Well, well, well. Hello stranger,” said a familiar voice. Jimmy glanced over his shoulder and met a face he hadn’t seen in several years. He could see the age on Logan’s face. He seemed worn out. When he last saw him, Logan was in a happy relationship expecting a child. The bartender suddenly appeared, setting a mug of beer down on the bar, a crooked grin curling over his lips.
“Logan. When did you get out?”
“It’s been a few years now. Been all over the place, though.”
“Not living in Durango anymore?”
“No. Been staying with my dad's widow for a couple weeks, but I’m leaving town again soon. I’ll be back on the road again as soon as I get the chance,” Logan said. He waved to the bartender and ordered himself a beer. “Delia, let me get another, doll face. I gotta ask…what are you doing in here, Jimmy? I didn't think this was your scene.”
“I think you know,” Jimmy said as he lifted his glass to his lips for a drink. Logan quirked a brow as he watched him, squeezing in closer to the bar. Once Delia placed the mug on the bar, Jimmy rose from his stool and gestured to Logan. “Let's find a table so we can talk in private.”
Logan took his beer and followed Jimmy across the bar. Just beyond the lights of the disc jockey booth, they found a table in the corner. “So, you going to tell me why you’re here, Jimmy? Or do I need to guess?”
“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you’d be back after going to prison.”
“I was released a couple years ago for good behavior. Finished parole. I’ve just gotten better at hiding. Been back home for too long already.”
“You really hate it out here, don’t you?” Jimmy said.
Logan shrugged his shoulders and took another drink of his beer, playing with a silver ring on the forefinger of his left hand. “Life’s just not the same.”
“I get it. So then what are you still doing here?” Jimmy said. He lifted his beer mug and finished off his beer, watching his companion across the table. Logan seemed lost in thought for a moment, quiet as he took another drink from his beer.
“I’ve been pulled into another situation I don’t want to be involved in.”
“A hunting situation? Can’t you step away and ask another hunter to take over?”
“Not this time,” he said. “Lemme guess, Jim. That’s why you came here tonight. You need a hunter to do some dirty work for you.”
“It’s not what you think, Logan.”
“You need something or someone hunted. And you can’t do it your fucking self.” Logan narrowed his gaze and took another drink of his beer. “Why can't you do this shit yourself? I'm tired of doing fucking favors for people.”
“I'm not a witch hunter anymore, Logan. I haven’t done it in years. It’ll kill me.”
“And you think it can’t kill me, Jimmy? I know you have guns and the skill. What difference does it make? If you need it done bad enough, you can get it done yourself,” Logan said.
Jimmy pushed his glass aside and leaned in closer. He lowered his voice and said, “This isn’t something I can do myself ‘cause this one is blood.”
Logan leaned back against his chair with a frown as if he were trying to process Jimmy’s words. “Jimmy. You should know how I feel about this.”
“Yeah, but I need your help. She’s blood. My niece.”
“What? You want me to kill your niece?”
“It’s not Leila,” he said. Logan quirked a brow and reached for his glass. “My other niece. She’s older than Leila.”
“You…have another niece? You never mentioned more than one.”
“I had my reasons in the past. I didn’t think she would become a problem,” Jimmy explained. Logan set his beer mug back on the table. He kept his eyes on Jimmy, watching him with a furrowed brow.
“You didn’t think she would become a problem? What kind of problem, Jimmy? I don’t understand.”
“I have another niece. An older niece, and now she’s old enough to become dangerous. I dunno what she’s capable of with her bloodlines. I can’t do it, though, because of my family.” A long moment passed between the two of them while Jimmy let Logan digest his words. As they sat in silence, a waitress came up to the table and asked if she could get them anything. Jimmy ordered himself another beer, but Logan ordered himself a bourbon.
“Why would she be so dangerous, Jimmy? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Her father—her real father—was a demon. Centuries old at least. I didn’t know enough about him before he disappeared. And that was more than twenty-five years ago.”
“Why did he disappear? Do you know?”
“I dunno. He disappeared when my baby sister was still pregnant with his child. And I haven’t seen him since before she told us about that child. I don’t think he even knows about her, or I think he would have tried to find her. Me and my brother did what we needed to shield her away from him, but now she is more than old enough to have his powers.”
“You’re sure she is a demon hybrid? Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes. I am more than sure,” Jimmy said. “She has his eyes.”
The waitress came up with a tray, carrying their drinks, and set them on the table before disappearing once again. Jimmy pulled out his cell phone and opened his camera roll, scrolling through his recent pictures. When he found what he was looking for, a picture of his mother and Charlotte, he turned his phone towards Logan.
Logan lifted his glass and took a gulp of the dark amber alcohol, looking over the picture. Logan looked at the photograph a long moment and lifted his eyes to Jimmy, awaiting a response. He was unable to read his old companion’s expression upon viewing the photograph, and he didn’t know how to take that. “And how can you be so sure that she is what you say?”
“I remember when my sister started dating him. He came to the house a few times. He wasn’t very respectful, and he had a rough side he wasn’t afraid to show,” Jimmy said. “My sister lost her virginity to him. She also said that when he became angry or when they were sexual, something came out of him that frightened her. I also remember that her pregnancy progressed much faster than normal.”
Logan nodded in acknowledgment, sitting silently as he held the glass close. He took another drink. “Do you know who her father is?”
Jimmy appeared lost in thought for a moment until he spoke a name—a name he was sure Logan would have heard throughout his cross-country travels. A name that was well known throughout the supernatural underground culture. Patrick. “Will you help me then?”
“I’ll…see what I can do, Jimmy.”
After finishing his bourbon, Logan excused himself and left for the night. He sat in his truck, waiting in the parking lot for a few extra minutes and going over the information he learned from Jimmy. Their conversation left things muddled in his mind. He started to put pieces together that weren’t there before. Two jobs had become one, but he hoped maybe he had overlooked something in the photo he saw of the girl. Hollow’s Creek was a much smaller town than New York or even Chicago, but maybe the two girls were not the same.
He knew about Patrick. He’d overheard the name spoken in hunter bars and other supernatural establishments around the world. The name was known from California to Europe and everywhere in between. He’d even read about Patrick in an old hunter’s journal he found in a trunk that his great-great-grandfather left behind, but he hadn’t faced Patrick himself. Many hunters tried to take Patrick down, but nobody had been successful. Many hunters lost their lives, and others were fatally injured trying to bring him down, which ultimately ended their careers.
He’d gotten himself brought into situations that involved family or loved ones before, and he hated being asked to kill someone else’s family. He usually declined. Logan had used pseudonyms for years just as his grandfather and father had taught him when he was still a teenager. He never allowed himself to get close to anybody he did work for. The less he knew about someone, the less he could care about them. He didn’t know Jimmy well enough to be a loved one, but the two were more than mere acquaintances.
Logan was a target for the supernatural; his bloodline made it so, and the pendant hanging around his neck only made him more recognizable. The witch he’d killed only a couple weeks before had known who he was because of it. His life was hunting the supernatural, and that was all he knew. Logan had always been a proud hunter, and after losing his young family
and even his father, he submerged himself deeper into the life to distance himself from his family. Now he felt he was at some sort of crossroads. He needed to keep his family safe above all, even if he struggled to show them he cared.
He lived by the hunting code. Kill all that which is evil to protect the innocent. Yet, he struggled to believe Jimmy’s niece had an ounce of evil in her veins. He needed to make a choice before someone else did.
He needed to let go of all the worries weighing on his mind. He turned the key in the ignition to let the engine warm up, glancing at the time while he waited. Delia would be at work, but he wanted to see her tonight. He sent a text her way, hoping he would be lucky enough to catch her with some time off. She answered quickly, and he drove across town to her place.
When they weren’t sharing the bottle of bourbon sitting on the counter between them or the pipe filled with marijuana, they spent their time between the sheets. They enjoyed each other many times that night. Sleep didn’t find them until the early morning hours when the first signs of the rising sun appeared in the sky. Conversations faded as the shadows were chased away.
When Logan woke, the sun was hanging high in the autumn afternoon sky. He felt groggy as he laid there in her bed, staring at the ceiling. He glanced over to find her still sound asleep but knew she would be awake before long for another late-night shift at the bar. As he listened to the quiet of her bedroom, he heard a phone buzz somewhere on the floor. He moved to the edge of the bed, still naked from all the rolling around between the sheets, but the buzzing stopped.
“Why so stressed, baby?” Delia whispered against his ear. A crooked grin appeared at the corners of his lips. She leaned her naked breasts against his back and kissed his unshaven cheek. She disappeared for a moment only to return with an unlit joint in her hand, handing it to him.