by G. Bailey
I don’t hate it… In fact, I kind of wish he’d get a little closer.
“I need to get you some more books,” he says, looking intently at me. “Reading might be more productive for you than hanging out with Dove or whatever else you do when I’m not there.”
“I don’t always hang out with Dove,” I defend, even when he is right. I might spend too much of my free time doing anything other than reading about demons in the thousand-page book he gave me.
He gives me a look which suggests he is calling bullshit on that. “Wendigos are creatures of nightmares,” he says. “They’re known as monstrous spirits that almost seem like humans. But they’re not. They don’t possess humans and they can’t hold a human form for long, like many upper-class-level demons can do easily. But it’s still deadly, and no human would stand a chance against it. You must not let it touch you. Its touch is its power. It makes the person become the worst form of themselves. A tiny bit of jealousy will turn into insane jealousy. If they’re greedy, it becomes insatiable greed. If they’re angry, they become murderous. Do you see the problem here?”
“Got it,” I say with a gulp. “Don’t let the scary demon touch you.”
“I can’t even imagine what it would do to you,” he comments. “You’re so angry about your parents…you’d become a monster.”
“And what would it do to you?” I tilt my head. “I don’t even know what your demon side is so I don’t have a clue what it would change. Could it hurt you?”
“And you’ll never find out what my demon side is,” he replies. “Telling you would give you the answer to who my father is, and I don’t tell anyone that.”
“Why not?”
He doesn’t give an answer, but he keeps staring down at me in the small space.
“How are you sure the wendigo is here?” I ask quietly, breaking the silence.
“In the last few weeks there have been constant problems at the hotel with the guests.” He pulls out his phone and scrolls through the recent news reports for me to see. It shows a hell of a lot of human deaths. All of them went to this hotel before going batshit crazy. Other reports show humans who have stolen from banks after staying here, and the reports go on, just getting worse.
“I’ve cross-checked around a hundred reports, and all of them have a connection to this hotel. Wendigos like hotels. It’s an easy place to charm prey and feed off their souls as it corrupts them.”
“Sounds delightful,” I say with a shiver.
His lip twitches, threatening at a smile. He always is so much sexier when he smiles. “Here’s the plan,” he says. “You’re going to pretend to be my girlfriend, and we’re going to check into a room for the night.”
“How romantic!” I link my arm in his just before he pulls us outside.
He chuckles and throws me a devilish wink. “Look. If I wanted in your pants, songbird, I wouldn’t choose demon hunting in Paris for our first date.”
My stupid little heart skips a beat at that. “Out of interest, what would you pick?”
He leans down, brushing his lips across the tip of my ear for a brief second. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Yes. Yes, I would because I’ve had a big-ass crush on you for years, you asshole!
I don’t reply, but his smirk tells me he can read my answer, anyway.
Caspian straightens. Now he’s officially flustered me, we walk into the hotel. It has large, bright-green doors with yellow stained glass, and it really is beautiful here. I enter the entrance hall, my boots clicking on the white marble floors. There is a wooden welcome desk in the middle of several white pillars that a black steel staircase swirls elegantly around, going up to many levels.
There are a few lifts at the sides of the reception with three security guards. We walk straight up to the reception, and Caspian puts on a charming grin that no human woman could ever resist.
The pretty brunette behind the counter perks up upon seeing him. She flicks her short hair away from her chin and widens her green eyes.
“We need a room for two,” Caspian states, leaning against the counter.
“Yes, of course. Do you have a room booked online?” She flutters her fake eyelashes at him.
On the surface, Caspian looks as though he’s fallen for her charms, but I know from the way he clenches his jaw that he just finds her annoying.
“I’m afraid not,” he says in a seductive tone I’ve never heard. “Could you fit us in for one night?”
The gorgeous smile he gives her isn’t even directed at me, and I blush.
The woman frowns. “Unfortunately, we are very booked out.”
“Damn. We’re only staying for one night, and it’s very last-minute. See, my poor younger sister here has had a really hard time and could do with staying somewhere nice for a night. You know, I came here to rescue her from a terrible boyfriend before flying us back tomorrow. He broke her heart. I can’t stand men who cheat on women.”
She sighs, looking between us for a moment. “Give me a second. I’ll see what I can do.”
Caspian leans over, picking up her hand to gently kiss her knuckles. She lets out a girly sigh under her breath.
“Thank you, mademoiselle.”
Somehow, magically, the receptionist finds us a suite room less than a minute later. When she hands Caspian the room key, she slips him her number and the time her shift finishes. I try not to glare at her as Caspian pulls me over to the lift.
The second the door closes, I turn to my partner. “What happened to me being your girlfriend?”
“I didn’t know how hot the human receptionist was,” he replies, watching my face closely.
I swallow down the jealousy his comment causes.
“That isn’t a problem, is it?”
“Nope. You can flirt with whoever you like, Bambi. I couldn’t care less.”
Damn it. Why do my ears heat up when I lie? Talk about a dead giveaway.
“You protest too much,” Caspian sing-songs, though he narrows his eyes at his new nickname. That cheers me up a little.
“Your Shakespeare quote is wrong,” I state coldly.
“But right about you. Jealousy suits you, songbird,” he whispers in my ear.
Dick.
I practically jump out of the lift when it pings open and follow Caspian down the corridor to the left.
“Why do we need a room? Why don’t we just search the place for the wendigo?”
“They don’t really come out until night to hunt. And from my research, he hunts every night here.”
“He not she?”
“Wendigos are only born males,” he tells me. “They hatch from eggs that wendigos throw up out of their mouths when they are close to death.”
Another delightful image.
“I really don’t want to see that,” I reply. The thought is gross enough.
“You and me both. So we’re going to go to our room to take a nice little nap.” He flashes me a grin. “Well, I’m napping and you can be lookout, partner.”
I glare at him, only half serious. “We should have just come at night.”
He glances back at me, his hazel eyes playful. “The check-in closes at three p.m. here. Which you would know if you did your research.”
“You only just told me about this hunt!” I snap, getting frustrated.
“Not my problem,” he replies around a laugh.
This guy is unbelievable.
I glare at his back as I follow him through the corridors until we get to room sixty-six and he opens it with the key card. We head inside where there is a large double bed, a wardrobe, and en suite.
Caspian immediately sits on the bed and kicks his boots off before closing his eyes. “Turn the light off and be quiet.”
Muttering a list of expletives under my breath, I walk out onto the balcony, not without turning all the lights on as bright as I can. Once I’m outside in the cool air, I sit on the small chair and look over at the incredible view of Paris. It really is beauti
ful. Shame my partner ruins it with his light snores only seconds later.
“So, how are we going to do this?” I ask as our room door shuts behind us.
Caspian yawns and stretches his arms. “I’m going to check the hotel.”
“And me?”
“You’re not coming. You’re too noisy on your feet,” he says. “I might as well walk around with a speakerphone shouting for the wendigo.”
“I’m not sitting in the hotel room,” I growl.
“Careful, songbird. You don’t want to play a game of whose wolf has the better bite in front of humans,” he playfully warns me before sighing. “You can go down to the restaurant and look out for the wendigo while I search the hotel.”
He pulls out a phone from his pocket. He hands me the small, very old-fashioned phone. “In case you get lost or find the wendigo.”
“Thanks. I’m keeping this,” I tell him.
“Thief,” he mutters with a wink.
I walk in the opposite way from him, pausing when I hear him shout down the corridor to me. “If you find the wendigo, call me. Don’t engage with it.”
“Sure!” I shout back. If I find the wendigo, I’m definitely going to engage it with my daggers and prove I’m not useless.
I head down the stairs until I get to the floor the sign says the restaurant is on. The place is simple, with white tables and bright lights hanging around the square room, but the large windows have a pretty view of Paris at night which makes up for it. I step into the restaurant, a server shows me over to a table. A pink rose in a small glass jar sits in the middle, two little tealights at either side of it.
“Here is a menu, miss. Can I have your room number, name, and what would you like to drink?”
“Wine would be amazing,” I say, wondering if he is going to ask for my ID. “And my room number is sixty-six. It’s under my brother’s name, Caspian Hardling.”
“Perfect,” he says. “Any particular wine you would prefer?”
“You can choose. Make it expensive and charge it to my room,” I reply, picking up the menus as the server nods to me and leaves.
I pretend to read the items but in reality I search the entire room for the wendigo. Or just anything that looks abnormal. After a few seconds, I realise there is nothing odd at all. There are a few couples, four families with kids and one older couple sitting at the back by the windows. But I don’t see anyone who looks different or out of place or even on their own other than me. I keep searching around until the server comes back with a bottle of wine and pours it for me.
“Starters?” he asks.
I glance at the menu and pick the first thing on the list. “The calamari, thank you.”
“Perfect choice,” he comments, taking my menu from me and swapping it with the main menu.
I sit quietly, sipping on the tasty wine, but then Caspian drops down at the table opposite me, his features pulled into a scowl. I feign ignorance to his anger and continue scanning the menu.
“Can’t sense him anywhere,” he snaps after a moment. When I don’t acknowledge him, he mutters, “I hope you choke on that wine.”
“It’s very tasty,” I reply with a grin, my gaze still on the menu as I take another sip. Teasing Caspian is becoming a favourite pastime of mine. “You should try some. After all, it’s been charged to your card.”
In my peripheral vision, Caspian huffs and pulls out a strange triangle that looks like a metal hair clip. I remember seeing it in the box of DHT things that were dropped off on the first day. The box Caspian took into his room and never let me see again.
“It’s a demon radar, for your information, and it glows when full demons are nearby.”
I frown up at him. “Then why did you take it off me? It’s not dangerous!”
“You could have broken it, and these are worth a fortune,” he replies, but I get the sense he was just being his usual petty self.
“I still want it back. It was pretty,” I tell him.
He chuckles. “No, I’m not giving you it. Ever. For the record.”
I’m about to reply when I see a man walk in from the corner of my eye. He enters on his own, ignoring the server, and goes straight to the bar. I stare at him for ages and I realise I’m seeing something around him almost like glittering black. I can’t describe it, but I’ve never seen any humans do that. I kick Caspian’s foot underneath the table and nod once behind him.
“What?” he asks when he looks back. “It’s just a man, and the radar isn’t glowing.”
“You can’t see the black things around him?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“No, but if you think something is wrong, then we can check him out.” He picks up the radar. “I’m bored anyways.”
I finish the rest of my wine, then follow Caspian to the bar. When we’re within the man’s proximity, the radar in Caspian’s hand starts glowing red. Caspian nods to me with a big smile, reaching above his head for his sword when the wendigo man turns our way. The man is handsome, in a pretty expensive suit, and he seems so human for a second. But the longer I stare at him, the more I see the difference. He feels…wrong. He looks wrong. He smells evil.
“You can make this really easy and just come with us,” Caspian warns quietly. “Or we can chase you around this entire hotel. One way or another, you’re going back down to Hell with us where you belong”
A load of words come out of the man’s mouth. Not human words. Demonic words that I don’t understand, but I feel like he’s saying “piss off.” Caspian jerks his sword out and slams it down at the man, but he catches it midair. The sword burns away into red dust in his hand, and the demon kicks Caspian hard in the chest, sending him flying across the room.
Humans scream and run out of the way as piercing, glowing demonic eyes turn onto me. The wendigo doesn’t move to hurt me but I pull out a dagger from my thigh from underneath my coat.
“Unhallowed born,” he spits out in English after a series of hisses.
“What’s that, wendigo?” I slip out my other dagger. “Didn’t quite hear you.”
In the corner of my eye, Caspian pushes a table off himself and climbs to his feet. The demon makes a break for it as two humans run in front of me, blocking my view for just a second. Damn it! I slip past them and chase the demon through the doors of the restaurant, pushing past two servers who try to talk to me.
“Sorry!” I shout back to them.
The wendigo goes straight into the stairs through the door, leaving it broken on the floor in his wake. I chase after him up the endless amount of stairs. He moves so quickly that I can just about see him when he suddenly lets out a god-awful noise. I press my palms to my ears to shut the noise out, but it screeches through my mind, forcing me to stop. The demon twists its back and sheds its human skin. Now it’s a gigantic, hideous creature with skeletal limbs tipped with razor-sharp claws. Two massive horns stretch out of its skull and glow, sparkling almost like the city outside. Its deep-onyx eyes turn down to me.
“God, you stink,” I groan, wanting to hold my nose, but I can’t with my daggers. “I can see why you prefer human forms.”
His cow-like face twists into an ugly grimace, and it lets out another screech. I reach for my gun, but the wendigo releases a noise that shakes the stars around us and forms cracks in the walls that seem to split right through my skull. I fall backwards in the shaking and stumble against the wall when the wendigo walks closer.
Knowing I can’t let it touch me, I make the first move with my dagger. I run down a few steps. The wendigo jumps down the steps, using its body to slam me into the wall but it grabs me around the neck. My dagger cuts through its arm, green blood pouring from the cut, but the wendigo doesn’t seem to notice.
He holds me tight as I struggle to get him off me, squeezing my neck. I have to fight to breathe. Suddenly, he freezes before me, roaring in pain, dropping my ass to the floor. Gasping for air, I look up to see Caspian is slamming two daggers into his back. The wendigo roars. The pressure he
uses plasters me against the floor so I can’t move, but Caspian falls down the steps when he struggles to stand. The pressure instantly disappears as the wendigo runs up the stairs away from us, pouring blood in his wake. Caspian climbs the stairs to me and pulls me to my feet.
“You okay?” He sweeps his worried gaze over me and lifts my chin. “It touched you.”
“I’m fine. His magic must not be working or something,” I reply. Caspian pulls out a gun and I pick up my daggers I had dropped off the steps.
“Or something,” he replies, sounding doubtful.
We both start running after the wendigo, all the way up to the roof. I remember the letter in my room about the horns. Someone knew we were coming after the wendigo today. Could it be that they were telling me the truth?
We come out onto the roof where the wendigo stands on the edge, looking down at the city. Bat-like wings burst out from its back, and I know my chances of capturing him are disappearing. With my weapon gripped tightly in hand, I run straight across the roof.
“Lilith!”
Caspian’s voice echoes through me as I jump in the air, slamming my daggers into the wendigo’s back before it can get far. The blades slide all the way through him, not catching on anything, and he throws me off his back with a deafening shriek. I scream, too. I suddenly fly through the air, and the last thing I see is a bright-red light then everything goes black.
Chapter 13
Lilith Thornblood
I open my eyes to a dark figure slouched over me. Droplets of water splash against my collarbone and slide down my chest, soaking into my tee-shirt that’s already glued to my body. The coppery tang of blood hangs thick in the air, and there’s a light throbbing sensation in my side. It fades with each breath I drag in through dry, cracked lips.
“Where… am I?”
My voice leaves me, riding on a fractured whisper.
“In the land of the living, you’ll be glad to know.” The last of the pain vanishes just as Alaric’s deep, husky voice registers in my mind. “But more specifically, you’re in my room, in my bed, bleeding on my fucking blankets.”