by Raquel Lyon
Every day, the torment of my treachery haunted me until I couldn’t stand it anymore. It was torturous to be near Soph and not feel worthy of her love. She was the main reason I chose to stay away from the Towers and hide like a coward in the woods. But that wasn’t what I really wanted. I wanted things to be back the way they were before I died, and after every roll of the film, I thought about gathering the nerve to come clean and try to convince Soph that it hadn’t been me; it had been another man in another lifetime that was long gone and felt like a nightmare that didn’t really happen. I’d never be able to make that excuse if she knew I’d let Charlotte back into my life. However much Travers believed we needed to work on this thing together, I had to find a way to go it alone. There was only room for one woman in my life, and it wasn’t Charlotte. But first, I had to get a lead.
I headed back to the snowmobile and ignored the helmet Charlotte held out.
“I don’t need a ride. I can follow on behind.”
“Yeah?” she said, sporting her usual perpetually pissed-off expression. “You can run at sixty miles an hour, can you?”
I stood my ground and couldn’t prevent returning her glower. “Try me.”
“Ooo, did my comment hit a nerve? Are you pouting?”
“No.” But she sure was. It was a look I’d seen plenty of times before... right before I’d ripped her clothes off.
“What about your furry friend? How’s his sprinting?” She cocked her chin at Rust, and I had to admit she had me there. Rust didn’t share my superspeed. Of course, I could always carry him, but the splinters of pain still spiking across my back reminded me that I should be taking it easy until I was fully healed.
“I’m waiting,” she said, shaking the helmet in my face. “Or are you scared of women drivers?”
Unbelievable. I’d been in her presence a matter of minutes, and she was already dishing out the wisecracks. Wordlessly, I snatched the helmet from her and secured the strap around my chin as I swung my leg over the back seat, and then patted my knee for Rust to jump on.
It was both a tight squeeze and a feat of ingenuity to keep both Rust and me from flying off onto the mountainside as Charlotte sped down the slope. Talk about a white-water ride. The way we practically took flight over every small bump in the snow had my balls shooting for retreat, but I should have expected as much. Char had always been heavy-footed with the gas.
I mentally chided myself for reminiscing again. I had to stop thinking of the past and focus on the future—after I’d got through the here and now, of course.
Every second felt like an hour, until we eventually arrived at a small cabin nestled amongst a cluster of pine trees. Rust shot from my knee as soon as we pulled to a stop and bolted to cock his leg against one of them. I allowed myself a small chuckle as he finished and lay low to catch his breath. He really was a scaredy-ass little shit, which was all the more reason he shouldn’t be here. Too late now, though. Maybe forcing him along for the ride would make his balls grow a little bigger.
The smell of beeswax and wood smoke hit me as I followed Charlotte inside to a poky little room. A log fire burned invitingly in a small stove and threw a flickering orange glow over the darkened interior, but its warmth and homeliness didn’t interest me. I wouldn’t be getting cosy. I was here for one thing, and one thing only.
“Make yourself at home,” Charlotte said, unzipping her jacket. “There’s a fresh pot of coffee on the stove and a stale sandwich in that tub over there, if you’re hungry.” She waved a lazy hand behind her, pointing in no discernible direction.
“I’ll pass, thanks,” I said, noting that she seemed in rather a hurry to reach the table strewn with papers that she was now striving to shuffle into neater piles.
More papers and photos decorated the wall, held in place by multi-coloured pins around a central map. I went to take a closer look as I wondered what was keeping Travers and whether his theory had been right about completing his earthly job and crossing over, or whether it had been his intention all along to leave me alone with the one woman I shouldn’t be anywhere near.
Charlotte came to stand next to me and gave me a sideways glance before joining me in the photo study. “Recognise anyone?” she asked.
If I’d been honest, I would have admitted that a few faces did seem disturbingly familiar. Instead, I said “Nope,” and turned away from her unmistakable scent already involuntarily stirring parts of me that needed to stay down.
I wandered over to the door to let my whining dog in and checked around outside as I waited for him to pad past. “Travers never did tell me where this place was,” I said. “How about enlightening me?”
“This is the safe house. The Assembly have placed a protection around it. If any demon gets within a hundred-foot radius, that box over there will warn us.
I glanced over to the contraption she was pointing to. Sitting on a stand in the corner, its patchwork of metal held a light bulb on the top and was covered in dust. My attention returned to the frozen scenery. “Good to know, but I meant the realm.”
“They didn’t tell you?”
Seeing nothing of interest with one last scan of the landscape, I shut the door and swung back to the room. “I just said that, didn’t I?”
“You’re in Noctilla, part of the Twelfth. It’s a static realm, where half of it lies in—”
“Perpetual darkness, and the other half is always sun-baked. Yes,” I said, “I’ve heard of it.” More than once in only a couple of days, as a matter of fact.
And as a good number of the faces I’d recognised were vamps, I suspected I wouldn’t be too far off the mark in assuming that some of them could have been on Mikai’s staff. It suddenly made perfect sense why we we’d be here. If the demon’s recruitment of Hell’s escapees wasn’t working, vamps were a good replacement option. I’d yet to meet one that wasn’t consistently up for a good killing spree.
Charlotte squatted to pet Rust, and I noticed the nails of her fingers stroking over his ears were bitten to the quick. They certainly hadn’t been that way before. I distinctly remembered the sensation of them digging into my back on more than one occasion. She’d always struck me as a strong woman who was passionate in her desire to rid the Third of evil, but maybe her lifestyle choice was finally getting to her, or maybe it was being holed up in this place for god knows how long. Even as one of the few humans who knew about our world, a hunter, and a good one at that, Noctilla had to be one of the most dangerous realms for her to be hanging out.
“Is he a sniffer dog?” she asked.
“Nope.” That would be me. “And you ended up here, why?”
“I was following a demon, a real piece of work, but lazy. Liked to feed on girls’ hearts, but had a bunch of vamps do the heavy lifting for him. The vamps hunted the girls, teased them, and had their fill. Then the demon had his. All very gruesome. Tracked him taking his latest stash to a place called Carwick Castle. That’s where I lost him. Found the terraplunger, though, with the combination set to Noctilla. Had to pull a few strings with some friends at the Assembly to get here, and by the time I arrived, someone had beaten me to it and taken the demon out. That’s how this whole thing started.” Her fingers moved to scratch Rust behind the ear, and he tilted his head to allow her better access. “Yes, you like that, don’t you, boy?”
“I’m not getting the connection,” I said.
“That demon was the first in a long line to cross into Noctilla. We know because the Assembly now have a trace on the terraplungers here. Dozens have crossed and been subsequently killed, and they always bring a group of humans along for the ride. Yet not once have I discovered a human corpse. Strange, don’t you think?” She gave Rust a final ruffle on the head, and then stood up and walked over to the map.
“Not necessarily. According to what I heard, the human corpses will likely come later. If the battle’s not stopped, Hell will be full of them.”
The confusion lines creasing her face as she passed by me indicated th
at maybe she wasn’t the all-knowing mine of information I’d hoped for. Either that or her mind was still debating the lack of corpses. If I knew anything about Charlotte, it was that when her mind stuck on something, it was almost impossible to shift.
“I think they’re being held somewhere,” she said. “Here.” Her finger drew a circle on the map. “Somewhere secure. What I need to find out is where. I’ve patrolled the area a few times, and I’ve yet to find anything, but when I do, I’ll need help to get them out. That’s where you come in.” She appraised me slowly from head to toe. “I hope you’re up to it. When I asked for help, I was expecting more than one man. Who knows how many demons are still alive to guard them?”
“I think we have our wires crossed. No one mentioned releasing hostages to me. In fact, hostages weren’t mentioned at all. You must be waiting for some other help. I was asked to track a hunter, locate a stronghold and kill one demon. Oh, and I work alone.”
“Wait a minute. Did you say battle? What battle?”
Yup, I could still read her like a book. “The one a human army is being amassed to fight in.”
“You mean the hostages? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why not?”
“Because it would be a rather pathetic army. If I were amassing an army, I’d want strong fighters: powerful, athletic. A good majority of the hostages are young women and children. What use would they be?”
She was right. It didn’t make sense. Yanis’s spiel had more holes in it than a fucking sieve. But then… “Well, the boss did say it was only supposition, so… Never mind. To be honest, the motive behind it will be moot once I wipe out the main threat. Tell me what you have so far.”
Charlotte turned back to the map and pointed to an outlined section. “Each of these dots marks a spot where demon remains were discovered. As you can see, the area forms a crescent.” I wasn’t blind. I could see that. “My hunch is that somewhere inside the inner curve of that crescent is where they were all heading before they were struck down. That’s where I want to begin our search.”
A bone in my spine cracked into place, and the accompanying jolt of pain caught me off guard. I silenced the cry that threatened to come out, but I couldn’t fool Charlotte. She noticed my discomfort.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Peachy. That trouble Travers ran into kinda ran into me, too. Knocked me about quite a bit, but it’s nothing time won’t fix. I’ll live.”
“Time’s a luxury I can’t afford, but it’s late. Go rest up. We’ll make a start in the morning when you might be more up to the task.”
A familiar sarcasm tainted her voice, but I didn’t respond. I had no intention of waiting until morning, and every intention of sneaking out once she was safely asleep. But with a few creaks in my bones yet to iron themselves out, a short rest sounded good.
“The couch is the bed, too, I’m afraid, but you can have it,” she said. “I’ll take the chair tonight… unless, of course, you don’t mind sharing. There should be enough room for two.”
And there it was, the naughty little twinkle in her eye that had caused so much trouble the first time around. But I wasn’t falling for it this time. The ache in my heart was a constant reminder of why I had to stay focused.
“I’ll take the chair.”
Chapter Twelve
I came around gradually to an incessant knocking in my head, as if someone was banging on a fence post and had to hit the damn thing fifty times over to get it far enough into the frozen ground. It took me a minute to remember where I was and why my bones were so damned stiff. Shit. How long had I been out for the count?
Rubbing an annoying crick in my neck, I looked down to Rust, curled at my feet asleep, then across to the empty couch, and wished I hadn’t passed on Charlotte’s offer. It might look like it’d had one too many asses on it, but it was obvious she hadn’t taken full advantage of its aged cushioned charms, or she’d still be lying on it—if she’d ever been on there in the first place. Where the hell had she got to? Was it morning already? Had I been out that long that I’d missed my chance to slip away unnoticed?
The knocking sound continued as I prised myself from the chair, went for a piss, and then ambled over to the kitchenette to check on the coffee situation. My mouth tasted as if something had died in it—probably because something had. Something big, black, and furry that had beaten ten bells out of me. I lifted my shirt to check the damage in a small dusty mirror over the stove. Good as new and ready for action. Nice one.
The coffee pot was still warm. Charlotte couldn’t have gone far. I poured a cup and went to the window, not entirely sure what I expected to see in a world where mornings didn’t include a sunrise. But then again, I had no way of knowing if it actually was morning. I could have been asleep one hour or ten, for all I knew. I hadn’t exactly been clock-watching.
A yellow glow emitted from around the side of the cabin, and I was almost positive the knocking sound originated from there, too. Abandoning my coffee, I grabbed my jacket and headed out to investigate. Rust must have taken my leaving to mean breakfast time and shot out of the door ahead of me. He was going to be disappointed if he expected me to do the deed for him. I hunted demons best on an empty stomach.
The sound grew louder as I approached the corner and stuck my head around it. I shouldn’t have been surprised by what I saw, but the scene evoked another memory, and I was transported back to the first day Charlotte and I had met.
It was approximately a year into my contract. My instructions had led me to a bar, north of Prague, where my mark was hanging out. When I’d got there, Charlotte was already sweat-soaked and trying to beat the demon to a pulp with a broken pool cue. I’d recognised her as a human immediately, and had to admit I was impressed by her skills and fascinated by the strength of her determination to bring him down. I’d leaned against the bar for a minute to watch her, and was half tempted to stay out of it and let her do my job for me, but she was tiring and the demon wasn’t. Besides, Saul needed to do his stuff, so I’d stepped in to help.
At first, she hadn’t got that I was on her side, and had come after me, too. I’d dodged the first swipe of her cue, leaving it to knock a picture from the wall, but she’d twisted around to take another shot at me, ignoring my claim to be the good guy, and I’d leapt from her range and flown towards the demon. A small scuffle had then ensued before I eventually flattened him to the floor and whistled for Saul. Then, as the demon received his comeuppance, I’d turned to Charlotte, and her frown had softened as she’d finally realised she wasn’t the only demon hunter in the room.
“Thanks, but I could have handled it,” she’d said.
“I don’t doubt it,” I’d replied, “but why waste the energy when you could spend it doing more pleasurable things?” I hadn’t meant anything by the comment, but saying it was my first mistake. My second was not walking away from her answer.
I shook the recollection away.
Under a small floodlight, Charlotte was practising her moves, twisting and twirling her staff with regimental precision before assuming position and swiping out at her defenceless opponent: a small tree.
Snatching an old broom from where it leaned against the side of the cabin, and then stamping on the head to break it away from the handle, I thought about how it should be me she was hitting. I deserved it.
I emerged from my hiding place and strode confidently over to her, twirling what remained of the broom in one hand.
“Fancy taking on something that can fight back?” I asked.
She stopped to wipe the sweat from her brow and eyed me curiously. “Sure you can handle it?”
“I’ll give it a shot.”
“Bring it on, then.”
We sparred for almost an hour, neither of us willing to concede to the other. Charlotte increasingly tried to top me by pulling out some of her better moves, but I knew them as well as I knew my own.
“How did you do that?” she asked, after I pre-empted h
er latest one.
“I’m a quick learner, and you’re not that difficult to read.”
“Oh, really?” She stopped and stabbed her staff into the ground. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be that good.”
“I have other talents, too,” my brain instructed my mouth to say without my permission. “Maybe I’ll surprise you again sometime.” Christ, why couldn’t I shut the fuck up?
“Maybe you will.” She walked over to lift a bottle of water from a nearby tree stump, then passed it to me after taking a slug.
“Cheers,” I said, noting the scar running the length of her forearm as I took it—a blemish I knew intimately, and one that hadn’t been there the day we met. “How did you get that?” I asked, not needing an answer, and yet intrigued to hear it, all the same.
A blank expression passed over her face before she turned from me.
“I don’t remember.”
“What do you mean, you don’t remember? How can you not remember something like that?” Like I didn’t know.
“I have some missing time.”
“How come?”
“I tangled with a pretty badass demon, and I guess he had some kind of power I’ve never come across before. I lost a lot of things because of him… including some of my memories.”
“That would be some kind of power.” I nodded, knowing for a fact that it hadn’t been the demon who’d stolen her memories; it had been the curse. But part of what she’d said niggled at my brain. “What do you mean by a lot of things? What else did you lose?” Could she possibly be talking about me? Did a blur of me still remain somewhere in the back of her subconscious, as she had remained solidly etched in mine?