“No!” My mother’s shrill voice rips through the room and tears me from the darkened abyss of unconsciousness that beckons me.
Agares turns toward the sound for a fraction of a second and cocks his hand at her as though he’s preparing to strike. That fleeting moment of distraction affords me enough time to sweep my leg out and trip him. Unable to stabilize his footing, he drops to the floor. I do not waste any time and pounce on him, feeling every bit of Daniel Callahan leave me and be replaced by the majestic and mysterious power of the light. I straddle his torso and unleash my fury on him, pummeling his face with my fists. Unrelentingly, I drill every part of his face with my bare knuckles. Sweat trickles between my shoulder blades in a stream to the waistband of my jeans. Agares squirms a bit at first, but his efforts become more and more labored. “I’m not ready?” I scream at him, my voice so gravelly and raw it’s foreign to my own ears. I look down into his eyes, both swirling pits of evil. He is a harbinger of doom. He is the apocalypse. He is misery and destruction incarnate. Seeing that, seeing the blood of humanity stain his hands, I lift his shoulders off the floor and begin slamming his head against the concrete again and again. I am ready, and he will die by my hand. I see my staff in my periphery, see the light catch the sharpened blade at its tip, and decide to reach for it, to end Agares’s reign of terror once and for all, but when my arms shoots out and I tilt my body, powerful arms grab me from behind and wrap around my neck so that my windpipe is being crushed by a rock-hard bicep.
Lifting his head off the ground and spitting a stream of bright read saliva, Agares smiles and says, “Jinn. Such a pleasant surprise!”
The name rings through my brain with recognition and immediately an image comes to mind. Not terribly tall and possessing the physique of a bodybuilder, Jinn’s face is the substance of nightmares, capable of striking fear in the heart of even the bravest human being roaming the planet. Hairless from crown to sole, Jinn’s bulging, lidless eyes are obsidian orbs that stare unblinkingly, their blackness infinite pits of hate and rage. Razor sharp cheekbones slope to a jaw that, when unhinged, reveals rows of pointed teeth that could easily be mistaken for an elaborate bear trap. But right now, it’s neither his mouthful of teeth nor his hideous appearance that’s holding me. It’s his brute strength collapsing my windpipe.
Capitalizing on my circumstances, Agares hefts a loose cinderblock from the floor and hoists it over his head. He then brings it crashing down into my face, causing an explosion of pain unlike any other. He repeats this again and again, striking my skull and body so hard and so often both threaten to yield. The pain laps at me like tongues of fire. I feel myself start to slip away, the light calling to me, calling me home. Faint cries echo distantly. They belong to my mother and sister. “Please stop!” my mother screams.
My eyelids flutter. I catch fleeting glimpses of her then a form closing in on her. It is Agares. I resist the temptation of the light. I force myself to look again, force myself to endure the pain and keep my eyes open. “I thought I told you to be quiet!” He descends on her gripping her head in his hands and twisting her head sharply to the right. Bone snaps and her body goes limp. Kiera shrieks, “Nooooooo!”
I thrash and try to free myself, but my act is futile. Jinn’s grip tightens and Agares resumes battering me with the cinderblock. My sister sobs. Through breaths labored from swinging, Agares says, “And this one,” he nods toward Kiera, “I think I’ll let her live. She will be my slave and be forced to serve me and other dwellers of the underworld until the end of her days.” My eyes open partially and I catch sight of him pulling a large blade from a sheath at his hip. “Look at me, Gideon.” He grips my face, squeezing either cheek with his thumb and index finger. I lock eyes with him. “It’s over. You lost. It’s my time to rule this planet.” Eyes deepening to the darkest shade of black imaginable, he says in a voice so low it’s little more than a whisper, “Time to say goodbye.” He draws the hand that clutches the sword back and is about to drive the blade into my heart when he freezes. His eyes go wide and the sword falls from his hand, landing on the floor with a clatter. Then razor-sharp tip of my staff protrudes from his the left side of his chest, right where his heart is, and blood saturates his shirt. Behind him, the person wielding the weapon steps from behind him and I am overcome with shock, confusion and joy so profound, my breathing snags. Kathy Callahan, my mother, clutches the spear, her eyes glowing with light so white and pure it is nearly blinding. “Mom.” The word is so reed thin as it slips past my lips, I doubt she hears me.
“My son,” is all she replies with, her voice as soft as summer rain but as rich and powerful as a clap of thunder.
All I can do is stare in wonder. My mother has returned from death. And she is just like me. She’s returned a Hunter.
Chapter 22
̴ Daniel ̴
Frozen in place, wide-eyed and with my ribs still being crushed by Jinn’s powerful grip, I stare in disbelief. My mother is back. She returned from death just as I did.
Looking nearly as shocked as I feel, my mother asks in a trembling voice, “Daniel, what’s happening?” Agares’s lifeless body falls to the floor and her eyes follow it. She is left clutching my staff.
“I’ll explain later.” I can barely manage the words as I’m being squeezed so tightly I can barely breathe. “Drive that blade into his skull!” I’m able to make an almost imperceptible nod with my head in Jinn’s direction.
Realization of my predicament flashes in my mother’s eyes. They narrow and her expression hardens as she rears her arm about to stab Jinn with the bladed tip of my staff. She releases a guttural sound I’ve never hear her make, but just before she rams it into his head, Jinn releases me. I spin immediately, using every ounce of strength I possess and lunge at him, slamming him against the wall to his rear. His skull collides with the concrete with a sick knocking sound and he roars in pain. I quickly turn to my mother and she, as if reading my mind, tosses me my weapon. I drill it into Jinn’s heart.
An unearthly din rings out, so loud and tortured it claws at my ear drums with sharpened talons so that they feel as if they’ll bleed. Jinn’s body shudders. It rumbles and convulses before flames of fire flare and twist from his torso, slithering like fiery serpents. The stink of brimstone, decay and blood fills the air. Heat radiates from his body, raising the temperature of the atmosphere uncomfortably before the air above him quickens then explodes in a sonic boom. A supernova of dark colors swirls in a tornadic pattern and ill intent snakes in every direction. Yet matter does not. The ground beneath me shakes. The walls shimmy. A ghostly moan replaces the earsplitting screech. Flesh and bone is reduced to ash. From nowhere, a gust of wind picks up, the sound a deafening roar, before the whirlpool of Jinn’s malevolent energy is absorbed by the atmosphere.
Panting, my mother stares in disbelief. “Wh-what just happened?” she asks in a tremulous voice. But time to reply with an explanation doesn’t exist. In my periphery, I see Agares move. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth but the slight rise and fall of his chest is what I focus on. “You think this is over?” the words are a harsh rasp as they pass from his lips. His black eyes, unfocused seconds ago, hone in on me and he releases a sinister laugh. “It’s only the beginning. There will be others.”
“It’s over for you,” I snarl through my teeth just as I raise my staff and plunge it into his heart.
His eyes grow round and his mouth opens on a silent scream. But his expression doesn’t remain. His body immediately petrifies, his skin turning to gray and producing a sound like thick ice cracking.
“Daniel!” My mother’s voice pleads. She is feeling as I did the first times I witnessed Servants of the Underworld being claimed by the universe. I part my lips to speak, to attempt words of comfort, but a horrid sound fills the air. Akin to the sound of thousands screaming and pleading for their lives at once, it chills the blood in my veins. Moments later, a funnel cloud of smoke appears, widening until it covers the majority of the ceili
ng. It’s massive, blackened center stinks of rot and death and ash. Veins of lightning streak within it as thunder rolls and gale force wind rushes in a swirling pattern around the room. Pressure builds, the atmosphere thick and expectant as it is before a hurricane.
“What’s happening?” my mother shouts over the roar.
Kiera scream.
But all sounds are drowned out by the deafening howl.
The funnel cloud tilts on its side, ripping the paint off the cement and hurtling chairs and other heavy debris as if it were as weighted as newspaper. When finally it’s inverted and the widest, darkest point is on the floor, Agares’s body explodes into innumerable flecks of dust that’s quickly absorbed by the tornado. Deep moans and rumbles seep from what is now a swirling cesspool of black, of evil so pure it aches to see it. The sounds it produces are that of a great beast awakened from slumber, roaring and stretching to life with teeth bared and claws at the ready. When finally Agares’s body is swallowed by it and not a speck of him remains, the tornado flashes in a brilliant burst of fire that extinguishes itself as quickly as it ignited.
The room falls to complete silence.
When sound returns, I hear the ragged breathing of both my mother and my sister. I turn to them, taking in their wan complexions and contorted features. “Are you okay?” I ask, though I know both are shaken to their core.
My sister nods, tears streaming down her cheeks and trembling so violently her hair shakes.
“Daniel, what’s going on?” my mother asks.
“I know you both have a million questions, but they’re going to have to wait, we need to get out of here first.” I immediately move to the pipe where my sister is chained and free her. She throws her arms around my neck when she stands and pulls me into a tight hug. She pulls away after a few seconds and stares at me, her pale eyes searching mine.
“It’s okay, Kiera. Everything’s okay,” I assure her.
She nods, her gaze never leaving mine.
“We really need to get out of here now,” I say as gently as I can while not losing my edge of urgency.
I lead them up the stairs and out of the house. When we reach the battlefield, the grunts and clatter of the clash have silenced and have been replaced by low conversations.
All the bodies of Servants of the Underworld are gone, and I see about twenty of my fellow Hunters still standing. We’ve lost many but not nearly as many as they have. Still, any casualty is one too many as far as I’m concerned. I scan the field, my eyes searching for three Hunters in particular. My pulse quickens and warmth drains from my body when I don’t see Scarlett and Luke and Lillian right away. But after my eyes scrutinize the property a second time, Scarlett’s billowing ringlets blaze like firelight under the glow of the moon. She sees me, and I swear I see her amber eyes shimmer with something more that relief that her friend has survived. She gestures and gets the attention of Lillian and Luke. All three make their way toward me.
“We did it,” I say when they are close enough to hear me.
“For now,” Lillian replies cryptically. I look at her, questioning her statement. “The battle between good and evil will never end.” Though her words are somber, she offers a serene smile.
“I know,” I agree and measure the gravity of her words. “But he is gone,” I say and refer to Agares. “The rest we can handle.”
“For now.” Lillian says and nods knowingly. Her voice and what she’s said causes goosebumps to prickle my flesh. But I do not concentrate on that for long. Scarlett surprises me by closing the space between us and embracing me tightly. I return her hug and hold onto to her, knowing fully that we can never be anything more than what we are to each other. Still, in the moments I inhale the scent of her hair, I imagine what it would be like, imagine an end to the lonely ache of losing Sarah.
When I feel the tension in Scarlett’s arms go limp, I let go and turn to look at my mother and sister. Both retain a look of utter shock on their faces. I don't know how I am going to make them understand what has happened or what the future holds in store for us. All I am certain of is my purpose. I now know why I was returned to this earthly plain from death. The Servants of the Underworld have arrived. They will not stop coming or relent. I must stop them. That is what I’m here for. And I am confident that light will triumph over dark. The Hunters will prevail and eternal night will never fall.
About the Authors
Jennifer and Christopher Martucci hoped that their life plan had changed radically in early 2010. To date, the jury is still out. But late one night, in January of 2010, the stay-at-home mom of three girls under the age of six had just picked up the last doll from the playroom floor and placed it in a bin when her husband startled her by declaring, “We should write a book, together!” Wearied from a day of shuttling the children to and from school, preschool and Daisy Scouts, laundry, cooking and cleaning, Jennifer simply stared blankly at her husband of fifteen years. After all, the idea of writing a book had been an individual dream each of them had possessed for much of their young adult lives. Both had written separately in their teens and early twenties, but without much success. They would write a dozen chapters here and there only to find that either the plot would fall apart, or characters would lose their zest, or the story would just fall flat. Christopher had always preferred penning science-fiction stories filled with monsters and diabolical villains, while Jennifer had favored venting personal experiences or writing about romance. Inevitably though, frustration and day-to-day life had placed writing on the back burner and for several years, each had pursued alternate (paying) careers. But the dream had never died. And Christopher suggested that their dream ought to be removed from the back burner for further examination. When he proposed that they author a book together on that cold January night, Jennifer was hesitant to reject the idea outright. His proposal sparked a discussion, and the discussion lasted deep into the night. By morning, the idea for the Dark Creations series was born.
The Demon Hunter series, the Planet Urth series, as well as the Arianna Rose series and the Dark Creations series, are works that were written while Jennifer and Christopher continued about with their daily activities and raised their young children. They changed diapers, potty trained and went to story time at the local library between chapter outlines and served as room parents while fleshing out each section. Life simply continued.
As the storyline continues to evolve, so too does the Martucci collaboration. Lunches are still packed, noses are still wiped and time remains a rare and precious commodity in their household, but it is the sound of happy chaos that is the true background music of their writing. They hope that all enjoy reading their work as much as they enjoyed writing it.
Books by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci:
The Dark Creations Series (A YA paranormal romance series)
Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 1)
Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 2)
Dark Creations: Gabriel Rising (Part 1&2)
Dark Creations: Resurrection (Part 3)
Dark Creations: The Hunted (Part 4)
Dark Creations: Hell on Earth (Part 5)
Dark Creations: Dark Ending (Part 6)
The Arianna Rose Series (A paranormal romance series)
Arianna Rose (Part 1)
Arianna Rose: The Awakening (Part 2)
Arianna’s Awakening (Part 1 & 2)
Arianna Rose: The Gathering (Part 3)
Arianna Rose: The Arrival (Part 4)
Arianna Rose: The Gates of Hell (Part 5)
The Planet Urth series (A YA science-fiction/futuristic series)
Planet Urth: (Book 1)
Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2)
Planet Urth: The Underground City (Book 3)
Planet Urth: The Rise of Azlyn (Book 4)
Planet Urth: The Fate of Urth (Book 5)
Hunter of the Light series
The Demon Hunter: Rise of the Hunter (Book 1)
The Demon Hunter: T
he Dark Once (Book 2)
The Demon Hunter: Hunter of the Damned (Book 3)
Oh, One Last Thing Before You Go…
When you turn the page, you may be given the opportunity to express your thoughts on Facebook and Twitter automatically. If you enjoyed our book, please take a second to click that button and let your friends know about it.
If they get something out of the book, they’ll be grateful to you, and we will be, too!
Thank you so much!
Love,
Jenny and Chris
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