by Jamie Davis
She didn’t want a fight, or at least not yet. She had to break through their search line and try to get ahead of them. Then she could search for herself and maybe track in on their target. Then she could get them to safety. First, she had to catch them, and that meant she needed speed.
Bringing up the stamina bar was almost second nature now. Quinn drew down about ten percent of the available energy and poured it into her strength and speed. She took off at a run, moving across the top of the hill at a blurring pace. She reached the first of the well-maintained brick row homes in this affluent neighborhood and darted down the first street.
A glimpse of a fire escape down an alley gave her an idea. She twisted at the waist without slowing, changing her direction in a heartbeat. The jolt to her legs caused a slight twinge of pain, but she ignored it.
Leaping from ten feet away, Quinn cleared the second-floor fire escape railing with ease. She didn’t slow at all as she bounded around and up the next three levels until she stood atop the slightly sloped roof. She looked down the row of houses.
“This is insane,” Quinn thought. If her plan worked, though, she’d run right past the slayers without them being any wiser.
Pushing off from the low parapet at the building’s edge, Quinn ran along the peak of the attached rooftops. She got to the end of the row, and on pure instinct, leaped as far as she could.
Exhilaration filled her as she landed on the roof across the street. She resisted the urge to shout with glee and kept going. This was like ultimate parkour.
Just before the end of the next block, Quinn spotted the first of the slayers. The black-clad figure slipped from shadow to shadow in the street below. It was unlikely any of the residents would be able to see them. To Quinn, her vision enhanced by the huntress amulet, the VR system, or maybe a bit of both, the slayer appeared as clear as day. It looked like it could be one of the males.
Quinn looked ahead to the next cross street. She might be able to get across before the slayer got there. It wouldn’t do for them to spot a person making superhuman leaps across a thirty-foot gap. They’d know something was up for sure.
She decided she could make it but drew down a little extra stamina just to be sure. She was down to about seventy-five percent remaining. Launching herself forward, Quinn pushed off at the last house and flew through the air.
The power of her jump took her farther than she expected and she overbalanced forward.
She managed to salvage it by converting her fall into a rolling somersault, but it ended with her coming up hard against the side of the next home in the row, which was one story taller than its neighbors.
With a groan, Quinn untangled herself from the jumble of leaves and trash piled up against the bricks.
A glance at her HUD map showed the line of red dots, just behind her. They were spaced out on separate intersections, probably so they could search better. The four slayers had just crossed the street she’d jumped over, so she had to keep moving. She needed to put some distance between herself and the others.
Once she was a block or more ahead of the slayers, she could risk returning to street level and start the search for their target. There had to be a clue she could pick up before they did.
Quinn stood and grunted at a flash of pain in her right knee. She did her best to push it away and started running again, this time at a limping lope. It hurt a lot and wasn’t her top speed, but it still covered a lot of ground in a hurry.
She reached the end of the next row of homes and planted one hand on the roof’s edge so she could vault down to a shed roof below and then to the ground.
Standing once again on street level, Quinn checked the map. The others were moving slowly, still in the block behind her.
They didn’t have a trail yet.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk of the cross street, Quinn checked both ways looking for anything out of the ordinary, something that might say “Fae” to her. Of course, she had no idea what that might be. She’d never met a real fairy before.
If Clark were here, he’d be able to find it right away because he was so damned good at everything. She hated thinking about it, but maybe if she tried to focus on what he would do, she could zero in on it herself.
With a sigh, Quinn cleared her mind and looked up and down the street.
“What would Clark do?”
She took a deep, calming breath and froze. She’d caught a smell she’d never sensed before. It was like a cross between fresh bread and peppermint, which was a weird combination for someone to be baking, even in this hipster-laden neighborhood.
Clark had been trying to teach her to trust her senses during his drills in the basement, although he hadn’t been able to get her to sense anything at the farmhouse, no matter how hard he’d tried. Here in the VR world, though, maybe she could.
Closing her eyes, Quinn inhaled through her nose.
There it was, off to her left. It felt…close.
When she opened her eyes, Quinn’s gaze fell on a home that was larger than the rest, standing a little apart from the others. It even had a small yard out front.
She caught a glimpse of a face in one of the second-floor windows before it darted out of sight behind the curtains. Quinn still had time to recognize there was something magical about it. There had actually been a sort of glow around their features.
She knew right away she’d found the slayers’ target.
Checking the street for any sign of the approaching slayers, Quinn jogged over to the home, jumped over the wrought-iron gate, and bounded up the brick steps.
She rang the doorbell and knocked as well for good measure. This was urgent. She had no way of knowing how long she had until trouble arrived. Clark was Lord knew how far away.
The heavy wooden door opened a few inches, and a man’s face with a gray beard and mustache slid into view. “Can I help you, young lady? It’s very late.”
The peppermint bread smell wafted out at her.
“I don’t have time to explain. You have to let me inside right now. There’s great danger close by for you and everyone inside.”
“Danger? Just call the police. I’m not going to let anyone into my home, especially some young ruffian with a big knife hidden in her jacket.”
Quinn didn’t know how he’d spotted the knife beneath her coat in the dark, and she didn’t care. They had maybe thirty seconds left before four trained killers showed up.
Pushing against the door with her augmented strength, Quinn charged in, brushing the man aside as she did. She turned and closed the door, turning the double set of deadbolts.
That might hold them off, if only for a bit.
She turned to find the old man brandishing a pirate cutlass. There was some rust on the blade, but it looked sharp enough.
“Hey, I’m here to protect you. Put that away.”
The man shook his head. “You barge in here, armed for death, and you expect me to put down my weapon? Leave now, and I won’t skewer you on this pig-sticker.”
He advanced, and Quinn had to step to the side to avoid the lunge as she drew her Bowie. The old man proved to be pretty nimble. Despite the gray in his hair and beard, she saw cords of muscle in his shoulders and forearms. He had the strength and skill to make his attacks count if she wasn’t careful.
She prepared to parry the next attack as the old man came at her, but a stern voice from the top of the staircase nearby stopped both of them.
“Hold!”
Quinn froze, as did the old man.
A tall, thin woman with a beautiful, stately face descended the stairs. She wore a pair of tailored black slacks with flared bottoms and an emerald green blouse, unbuttoned just enough to expose a hint of her ample chest.
Quinn, who’d had more than a few romantic trysts with both boys and girls, thought she was just about the most attractive woman she’d ever seen. She was also the person Quinn had spotted peeking from upstairs as she approached the home. There was a sort of glow around her head,
and the peppermint-and-bread odor came from her. Her voice had the lilt of the Irish.
“Put your weapons down, Alistair. You too, young lady. I’ll not have fighting in this home. It belongs to a friend, and I won’t have it sullied by death and violence.”
Quinn managed to find her tongue at last. “Well, then you’d better disappear fast. There are four demon-possessed slayers out there looking for this house. They’ll be here any minute.”
Concern crossed the woman’s face and she brushed back a strand of golden hair, a bracelet of woven silver strands sliding back to reveal an ornate blue and red tattoo of a bird on the inside of her left wrist. “What? How? Where are they, and who are you?”
“They are no more than a block from here. They were sent by a cult involved with destroying all the hunter clans years ago. Now they are back and trying to execute some sort of takeover. I’m the huntress charged with finding you and getting you to safety, but we have to leave now. Where’s the back door?”
“A huntress, hmmm. That is most interesting. We must talk more, you and I, but I think we should leave here first, as you suggest. Four of the demon-kinder would be a challenge for me, especially since I’m still weak from using my magic to travel here. Alistair, I believe her.”
Quinn had never heard Clark use the strange term “demon-kinder.” The fae woman had put the word demon together with the beginning of kindergarten. It sounded right, though. She decided it fit them.
The woman looked at the old man, who snapped to attention and gave a brief bow. “Let me show you to the rear entrance, young huntress. Then I shall gather my mistress’s things for travel.”
“There’s literally no time for that,” Quinn said as she followed the odd pair through the home. They reached a large kitchen, where they stopped at a door with a six-paned window set in it. A white lace curtain hung down over the glass.
Quinn charged past when she saw the door. She pulled it open and gasped as a large, shadowy form stepped into the opening.
The fae woman had already moved around Quinn before she could warn her. She bumped into the intruder’s chest.
A hand darted out and caught the woman as she stumbled back, startled. The figure stepped into the light as he steadied the fae.
“Hello, Filippa,” Clark said. “It’s been a long time.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Clark Hunter, it’s certainly been a long time. I thought you were dead with the rest of your brethren.”
“Wait, your last name is actually Hunter?” Quinn interrupted.
Filippa pointed to Quinn. “Is she with you? She’s quite brash.”
Clark smiled. “I remember you being that way when you were her age.”
“You don’t remember me when I was that age. That was millennia ago.”
“You know what I mean,” Clark replied. “If by brash you mean that she tried to get you to get the hell out of here, I’d suggest you listen to her. She’s right. There’s trouble coming, and it won’t be long before it finds you .”
As if to punctuate the statement, a crash of glass from the front of the house alerted them to the arrival of at least one of their unwanted visitors.
“Time to go, Filippa,” Clark said. “I’ll explain as we get out of here. Bring Alistair along. My car’s out back.”
“What about the girl? You’re going to leave her here to fight off a group of the demon-kinder alone?”
“She can take care of herself, and she has her own special way to get home.”
Filippa turned to Quinn and offered the slightest of bows before saying, “Thank you for your warning and protection, Huntress. I shall not forget your service.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the woman turned, gesturing for Alistair to follow, and headed out the back door into the night.
Clark pointed to the front of the house. “Keep them busy until I get far enough away that they cannot follow. Return to the farmhouse as soon as we’re safe. Don’t try to be some sort of hero. I’ll see you there.”
He left, and Quinn spun, drawing her Bowie. She slipped to the side of the doorway and waited for the intruders to come and search this part of the home.
A glance at the HUD map showed two of the red dots centered over her position. Two more had moved around the outside of the home. She hoped Clark and the others had gotten away. It was strange that she couldn’t see him or those he’d left with on the display hovering in front of her.
A creaking floorboard drew her attention back to the danger all around her. She wondered how long she’d need to give Clark before she could bug out. Part of her, in the back of her mind, screamed in terror at facing four of the demon-kinder, as the Fae woman called them. They were strong and able fighters in person. Inside the VR system, who knew what abilities they’d gained.
Quinn planned to leap out and slash out with her knife at the first one coming down the hallway. That didn’t work.
The plan went south when the intruder dove forward into the kitchen, passing right under her blade and rolling back to her feet behind Quinn.
Quinn felt a tingle on the back of her neck, and her amulet flashed with a sudden chill. She raised her blade up and behind her head.
A powerful blow from the other’s weapon clashed with her Bowie, which barely parried the attack. The force nearly dislocated her shoulder and would have beheaded her if she hadn’t blocked it.
She ducked and spun, kicking backward as she did. A grunt of pain rewarded her move.
Finishing in a crouch, Quinn got her first good look at her opponent. She recognized the woman she faced as one of the candidates from an earlier group, but she didn’t know her name. Judging by her glowing red irises, it didn’t matter anymore. She was possessed.
“I know you.” The rasping voice coming from the woman’s mouth didn’t match what Quinn had expected.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Quinn started laughing.
The response wasn’t what the other woman expected. She let her double-bladed ax drop a little as she asked, “Why do you laugh? Is it because you see the futility of facing me and my brethren here?”
“No, it’s because you sound absolutely ridiculous. Hasn’t anyone had the guts to tell you before this? Seriously, you need to make new friends.”
Quinn realized she’d gained some initiative. While the demon-kinder was distracted, she slashed at the arm wielding the ax while snapping a forward kick up as a follow-up.
It worked.
The woman was able to bat aside the attack with the Bowie, but the kick caught her by surprise as she leaned in to parry the first attack.
Her head bent backward when the huntress’s booted heel connected with her forehead. The cracking of the bones in her neck transmitted up Quinn’s leg as it fully extended.
The woman dropped as if someone cut the strings holding a marionette up.
Quinn stepped forward to look down, amazed by the power of her blow and the effect it had. To her horror, the eyes facing the ceiling shifted to the side to connect with hers. Although her body had been paralyzed by her broken neck, she wasn’t dead.
The woman took a gasping breath and said, “You won’t fool me so easily next time. I will heal, and we shall meet again.”
Quinn shook her head and glanced at her Bowie. Clark had told her it was special—blessed, or something like that.
“You know, I don’t think so, demon spawn. You need to go back to where you came from.”
She reversed her grip on the broad-bladed knife and dropped to one knee, bringing her weight down behind the blow. She struck in the middle of the woman’s chest.
The demon-kinder let out one last heaving sigh, then the eyes went still and unfocused.
Quinn didn’t stay there looking at her dead opponent. There was another in the house with her somewhere. She rose and started down the hallway, her blade held ready to attack or defend as needed.
The soft scuff of a foot on the carpet nearby warned her someone was coming dow
n the steps. A voice spoke, also carrying the grating quality of one possessed by a demon. It seemed like it might be a man this time.
“There is no one upstairs. Did you find anything?”
Quinn charged the last few feet to stand beside the stairs. She thrust her blade through the spindles and stabbed deep into the man’s thigh.
She pulled her blade back as the demon-kinder howled and lost his footing, tumbling the rest of the way down the stairs.
Racing forward, Quinn dove at the downed opponent, hacking down at the arm holding a broad-bladed longsword.
She almost severed the hand at the elbow. It was enough that the sword dropped free and slid across the hardwood floor to stop a few feet away.
Quinn pulled her blade up high to deliver the killing blow.
A fist snaked out with unnatural speed.
Quinn jerked to try to dodge the blow.
The punch connected with her upper chest just below her throat. It would have crushed her windpipe if it had landed squarely, and she’d be dying from slow suffocation right now. It was still powerful enough to cause her airway to spasm. For a few seconds, Quinn struggled to take in enough breath.
The man beneath her bucked his hips, lifting her into the air and sending her rolling to one side.
Quinn let the roll carry her all the way over and back up into a crouch. She still struggled to fill her lungs and tried to hide it from her opponent.
The tall, burly man rose and pointed his uninjured arm at her. “You are the hunter the high priest told us about. He was correct when he said you were a young one. I didn’t expect you to be so formidable. I assume you dispatched my companion?”
“I did,” Quinn rasped. Her vocal cords were bruised. “It wasn’t much trouble. Not any more than it will be to finish you off.”