by H. M Reilly
“Patrick…can you hand me a fresh beer mug?” the waitress said. Her silver ponytail flipped across her upper back. Charlotte lowered her gaze and took a sip of her drink, wondering about this man. Something was different about him, she knew. Every time she looked in his direction, she felt almost dizzy, her body responding in a focused way she never felt before, but that strange feeling didn’t stop when she looked away from him either. Charlotte glanced at her glass, wondering if something had been slipped in her drink.
She pushed her glass aside, a full swallow of the dark liquid left at the bottom, and reached into her purse. As she pulled out her wallet and opened it up, she felt another strange sensation pass right through her, this one malicious, almost threatening. When she looked up, the dark man’s eyes were on her, and she knew she was not welcome.
Was this dark man influencing her thoughts and her body? Or was it the drink she consumed? Either way, she was instantly desperate to go.
She placed a twenty on the bar and slipped off the stool, telling the silver-haired bartender to just keep the change. Charlotte didn’t want any more trouble than she already felt directed at her. She made her way across the room and hurried up the stairs, that sensation never truly leaving her body. That feeling grew weaker as she ascended the stairs, but her heart was pounding harder in her chest. Adrenaline and whatever drug cocktail pumping through her veins.
Charlotte dared a glance over her shoulder and pushed through the front doors of the club, no longer able to see that dark man. A wave of relief washed over her, but that strange pull still tugged at her. The cold late September air blasted her in the face, and she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with that fresh mountain air. That strange feeling slowly slipped away, which only made her wonder who that man was and how he had such an effect on her.
She crossed the parking lot to her truck and took another look over her shoulder, believing she had escaped the club without any notice and without any more trouble. She took in another deep breath of air and slowed down, her heart still pounding in her chest. Her truck was only a few yards away. The sooner she arrived at her truck, the safer she would feel.
Suddenly, a whiff of something she could not place blew past her, and a strange sense of fear crept through her. Was that rotten eggs? She was sure she was not alone; someone was watching her. Her long dark locks flipped over her shoulder as she glanced back at the seemingly abandoned warehouse. Her amber gaze darted across the parking lot. For a moment, she felt that someone—somewhere—was following her, but she didn’t see another soul anywhere.
“Looking for me?”
Charlotte whipped her head around when she heard a man’s voice in her ear, but she saw nobody. She was only inches from her truck. The parking lot was half empty and poorly lit, but she saw no one. Only cars, trucks, and the darkness.
A moment later, her eyes focused on a man that appeared from nowhere, and she felt a strong sensation of power in the pit of her stomach grab ahold of her. He approached, and for a moment, she closed her eyes, feeling that strange pull subside. When she opened her eyes again, she saw his pitch-black eyes.
Something strange happened as she watched him. It felt as if a dark sensation were emitting from him, and she could not move. She found it difficult to focus on anything else. He stepped closer.
“I- I didn’t see you,” she said. “Wh-where did you—”
“I know you didn’t. You wouldn’t, love. I am far older than you, and I have more experience in hiding myself from others. If you had any sense, you would have hidden yourself from me.” He took another step closer.
“I don’t…know what you are talking about,” she said. Her dark brows knitted into a frown as she kept her eyes on him. Fear swallowed her, and that same sense of strength held on to her. As she tried to take a step away, she felt a resistance push against her, keeping her in place.
“Don’t be coy, love. I can feel it from here, and I haven’t even touched you.” He took another step in her direction, and, with a flicker, his amber eyes started to darken. His pupils appeared like a cat’s—a vertical slit—and slowly widened. Charlotte had never seen eyes like his before, and with a hitch in her breathing, her mind racing, she wondered if she had come face to face with a demon.
She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to shake away the strange feeling holding on to her right in her core. She wished she had just driven back home to Hollow’s Creek instead of strutting into the bar.
Nononono. This is not happening. None of this is real. They just drugged me.
He paused when she finally opened her eyes. She felt that familiar glow of warmth vibrate deep within her and rise through her body. Tendrils of heat snaked across her cheeks. She stood there, staring back into his black eyes, when suddenly a warm tingling sensation bubbled through her body, pulling her forward. She fought back as her feet dragged across the asphalt. Closing her eyes only seemed to weaken the force.
A growl erupted from deep within the man. He seized her by the throat when she was in reach, his grip tight. His hand began to morph into something inhuman beneath the dim street lighting. His fingers disappeared into something resembling a cloven hoof with claws sharp as daggers. Dark veins appeared across his cheeks as his pupils overpowered the amber hue of his irises. His teeth, both upper and lower jaw, elongated and turned razor-sharp. She parted her lips and let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Who are you?” he demanded. His voice wasn’t much more than a guttural growl that emanated from deep within him. Charlotte could feel his grip tighten as he slammed her against the side of her truck, feeling the door dent beneath her. Upon impact, she felt something crack. Her eyes started to roll back as she fought to lift a hand, clawing at his hands to let her free. She could hardly breathe, but she fought for dear life.
She closed her eyes, biting down on her lip and fighting to break the connection he held over her. She choked out a few words, her voice a low growl, but it held a ferocity she did not recognize. “I don’t know who,” she gasped, “the fuck you are.”
He laughed deep in his chest without another word passing his lips.
“I am no enemy of you.” That energy rose to greet her with a new sharpness and took hold of her, and that warm sensation lashed out with fear against this preternatural creature who was much more powerful than she. Fear and adrenaline still pumped through her veins. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she gasped for air, trying to fight a sense of panic. She wasn’t ready to die. Not here and not like this.
She lifted a hand to this creature’s wrist as he lifted her up from the pavement and away from the vehicle, just realizing the car alarm was going off due to the commotion between them. He let out another malicious laugh.
A gust of wind flew over her, and he slammed her into the side of her truck again. She let out a muffled cry of pain as his claws ripped deeper through her skin, and she closed her eyes once more. She found it difficult to move or even fight this dark creature. Her heart thrummed in her ears, and she hoped this pain would be over soon. The warm feeling building in her core started to spread, and she held tight to that ounce of hope she may survive
Suddenly, she was released. She collapsed to the ground, and when she opened her eyes, she realized she was alone once again. She lay on the pavement, a rush of air crowding her lungs that resulted in a fit of coughs. She lifted her head and clutched her throat, sore from his claws. A smear of blood stained her fingertips when she took her hand from her neck.
She took her time getting back up. What more could possibly happen to her there in the parking lot? If that dark man wanted her dead, he would have crushed her windpipe and broken her neck only seconds ago. She climbed into her truck and turned on the engine to head home.
She woke late the next morning. Her grandparents’ vehicle was not in the driveway when she peered out the window at the end of the upstairs hallway. The house was silent, and that was the last thing she wanted. Being left alone with her thoughts and deal
ing with a splitting headache was not something she needed either, but she didn’t have much choice. Thankfully, bruises healed, and a heavy layer of foundation would cover the marks until then. The anxiety she felt would take longer.
She still did not know what to make out of what happened to her in the parking lot at Viper’s Cavern. She didn’t know how to digest or sort through it. Life was simple and ordinary right up until last night. The whole entire interaction with that dark man kept her awake half the night, not to mention the throbbing pain in her temples from struggled for oxygen.
When she sat at the dining table with a hot, fresh cup of black coffee, she reached for her phone. Her dad had called and left a voicemail earlier, but she wasn’t ready to deal with that now. If the conversation she wished to have with her dad were to go as planned, she needed every bit of mental energy she could muster. She needed her morning cup of caffeine to even help put her head on straight for the day ahead.
CHAPTER 19
It didn’t take long for Dixon to return Logan's call. In fact, he received the call before noon the following day, and he was thankful for his mentor's timely manner. The conversation was short and sweet. Dixon wanted to meet out in Cortez, get some dinner, and discuss Logan's concerns. Logan left his stepmother’s house later that evening.
Cortez was a much smaller city than Durango, and any supernatural population was minuscule compared to the area surrounding Hollow's Creek. Logan was grateful that that; he needed time away from the supernatural energy vibrating near Durango. An energy that seemed to light up when he was around other supernatural beings. The magical blood flowing through his veins was nothing like that of his ancestors, but he still felt the effects.
Heavy gray clouds hung in the sky on the drive up the highway. The cold air slipped through his cracked windows, and soon snowflakes fell from the sky, melting against the pavement. Miller’s Bar and Grill sat deep in the heart of the small town. Pulling into the parking lot, he did a quick survey of the surrounding area. Not a single ounce of supernatural energy reached out to him.
The smoky aroma of a roaring fire floated into the air as he stepped up to the front door of the bar. The warmth greeted him and went down to his aching bones. He glanced around and soon spotted the fire burning in the hearth, crackling in the far corner of the room. A layer of sawdust covered the old hardwood floor.
The dining area was quiet, with few people occupying the room. A young blonde greeted him near the front door, grabbing a menu to lead him to a table. He told the young woman he was meeting a friend and asked if he was already seated. She must have known exactly who he spoke of because she turned to lead him toward the back of the restaurant. An older man with a full beard and salt and pepper hair sat a few feet away from the roaring fire.
“Logan. Took you long enough.”
“If you didn’t live at the top of a fuckin’ mountain.” Logan slipped out of his leather jacket and draped it over the back of his seat. The young waitress placed the menu down on the table in front of Logan, asking about drinks.
“We said eight o’clock,” Dixon said. “Two beers, sweetheart.” The young blonde disappeared to grab their drinks, a smile appearing across her face. The older man grinned at Logan, showing him the face of his watch. “It’s a quarter after eight.”
“I forgot about the shitty drive up the mountain. At least I fucking made it.”
“I should consider myself lucky. Why did you want to meet tonight, Logan?”
“I need your help with something I’m hunting,” Logan said. The waitress stepped up, removing the tops from each bottle before placing them on the table. She asked if they were ready to order, reaching into her apron for a pen and pad. Dixon ordered himself a hot turkey sandwich and an order of coleslaw and fries. Logan ordered a bacon cheeseburger with fries.
“You need my help? Logan, your family taught me most of what I know. I may be your mentor, but you have access to many more resources than me. What could you ask me for help with?”
“Well…” The two men discontinued the conversation and waited as the hostess walked by to seat a couple a few tables away. Dixon reached for his bottle of beer and lifted it to his lips, taking a drink. “Have you ever let a monster go?”
“That’s a very odd question.”
“It’s one I’m struggling to find an answer to.”
“Why would you struggle with the answer? You’ve gone to prison for killing someone you knew was a demon, and now you are the one asking if I have ever let one go? What is going on, Logan?” Dixon said.
“You know as well as I do that woman was no longer possessed when the police found her body,” Logan said. Dixon, taking a sip of his beer, only nodded.
Logan took a sip of his beer and glanced around the room. There were only four other people nearby, and none of them were close to the table he shared with Dixon by the fire. Still, he leaned in closer before he started to speak, telling Dixon about his dilemma and about how both his nephews and an old acquaintance needed help with one young girl. “She seems harmless. I can feel her energy, and I don’t feel an ounce of evil about her.”
“You would know more about that than me, Logan. I can’t feel these energies the way you can.” Dixon lowered his eyes to the purple stone pendant sitting on Logan’s chest, and Logan nodded. He knew the ability to feel supernatural energies was not something most hunters had. The only reason he could feel them was because of his own supernatural blood, which many hunters also didn’t have.
A moment later, the young blonde appeared with their food, placing a plate in front of each of them. “Anything else I can get you guys?”
“I think we’re good for now, doll,” Logan said. He sat there a moment, picking up a couple of fries from the plate, and waited for the waitress to leave before continuing their conversation. “I’ve never been wrong about these things.”
“I know how good you do on your hunts. It’s in your family blood. But you said this girl is a succubus? A demon who seduces men, fucks them, drains them of energy, and leaves them for dead.” He reached for the bottle of ketchup and poured some onto his plate.
“I know what a succubus is, but she’s not seducing me. As I said, I don’t feel an ounce of evil in this one.”
“But you say two others have come to you asking you to kill this girl.”
“Yes, but one is making a guess based on who her father is. He hasn’t been as close to her as the other,” he said.
“And who is her father, Logan?”
“Padriag.”
Dixon nearly choked on his drink. “Padriag? You sure?”
“Well, I’m just going off what my acquaintance told me.”
“How much do you trust this acquaintance of yours?” Dixon said.
Logan only shrugged, reaching for the burger on his plate. Truly, he wasn’t sure he could even trust his nephews. It wasn’t like he was part of the family since he was released from prison. He hadn’t received a phone call from either of his sisters or his mother to check on him since he first went to prison.
“If you don’t think you can trust him, why should you believe him, Logan? And what makes you think someone as powerful as Padriag left a hybrid spawn alive?” Dixon asked. He finished off the beer in front of him, and the waitress stepped up to check on them, crossing toward the bar to grab a couple more beers for them.
“I dunno.”
“How do we know he is telling the truth? Even if there was a child, I was always told that children born of a woman by a demon do not normally survive beyond infancy. And this girl is how old?”
“My friend said his sister died in childbirth more than twenty-five years ago.”
“Doesn’t prove he knows what he is talking about.”
“Maybe. And she really didn’t feel evil.”
“Not all hybrids are evil,” Dixon noted. Logan lifted his gaze in his direction, taking another bite of his burger. He knew Dixon was only presenting his thoughts on the situation and hearing anothe
r’s perspective may help, but none of it was helping to clear his mind.
“I know not many demon hybrids live until adulthood. There have been very few cases, and most I’ve heard about from other hunters. But from the stories, demon hybrids shouldn’t be messed with. They’re not as powerful as full demons, but they do have their own powers. .”
“I’m not sure what to tell you here. I’ve seen you get through some dangerous situations, and I don’t think you need my help on this one because you know what you need to do. If you are looking for advice, I’ve said all I can. You need to decide this, Logan.”
Logan nodded his head and went back to the pile of fries sitting on his plate. He knew Dixon was right, even if he was still just as lost as before. Later, when he arrived back at his stepmother’s, he would roll himself another joint while he contemplated their conversation. That is if he still had enough weed left in his stash.
The conversation took a turn into lighter conversation. The two men spoke as old friends catching up and finishing their meal by the fire. At one point, an attendant came by and tossed a log into the hearth, the crackling flames licking at the bark. Outside, flakes of snow landed on the window, melting away within moments.
Logan leaned back in his seat when the young came with a check for each of them. Both men reached for their wallets, and Dixon waited for her to disappear. He glanced in Logan’s direction, leaning in close as he spoke in a soft voice.
“Logan. I know you killed a coven master, Thalia. I heard all about the massacre the last time I stepped into the Cavern. I know you tracked her for a while, but you need to be more careful.”