by Jessica Gunn
She shot her flames at me in a mighty wave. I ducked out of the way and used teleportante to get behind her, slashing at her shoulder blades. As the demon cried out, I went for a finishing blow, using the momentum of the surprise attack. But two strong hands ripped me from her.
The fourth demon, silent until now, dragged me backward and slid an arm around my throat. I squeaked as a final breath made it past my lips. I reached up, wrapped my fingers around the demon’s arm, and pulled with all I had. Nothing. This guy was not budging.
A blade appeared out of nowhere, slicing down the demon’s arm. He shouted in pain and loosened his grip just enough for me to lean forward and throw him over my shoulder.
I scooped up the thrown blade before the demon could and shot Kian—or where I thought Kian had been—a quick look. He had the ether-shaper backed into a corner in the kitchen, only visible from the white ether twisting around the demon’s hands. The pulsing nature of the essence magik lit up the area around them in a soft glow.
The demon with the cut arm groaned, regaining his composure.
Can’t have that, can we?
I spun back to him and unleashed a fury of slashing, my Fire Circle knife in one hand and another, longer dagger in the other. How had Kian thrown this from the other side of the room with such accuracy?
Every time the demon tried to land a blow, I cut or blocked, resulting in blood speckling my face and shoulders. The fire-elemental joined in, throwing little fireballs my way. I danced around them, deflecting with the much longer dagger when I could. Its surface area was just enough to knock off the fireballs if I hit them with the flat edges.
“It’s too light!” the fourth demon yelled, the one fighting with Kian alongside the ether-shaper.
And just like that, the room went dark as the fire-elemental snuffed out her flames. The ether-shaper did the same.
“Fucking fantastic,” I grunted, slowing my attacks. They could be anywhere. More could have made their way over to me. They’d be just as blind, but maybe—
A sharp slice seared down my side, followed by a shallower one on my shoulder. I stepped away from the attacks, stumbling over something hard. The ground rushed me as I fell, slamming against the rug of the living room. I tried to catch myself, but something slick and sticky made it impossible.
I didn’t need the lights on to know what that substance was. But there was no way that was my blood. Not that much of it already.
Kian.
Shit. I scrambled, finding the edge of the coffee table, and used it to pull myself up.
“Give it up,” a demon said, but their voice wasn’t really directed toward me. “It’s over.”
“It’s not over until I’m dead,” I hissed at them. “And guess what: I’m still here.”
I bent down and groped for the table’s legs. When my fingers wrapped around them, I raised the table as high as my throbbing, painful side allowed, and threw it across the room toward the voice that had just spoken.
A fist soared out of the darkness and connected with my jaw. My head snapped backward as lights burst like stars across my vision. I ducked, swinging out of the way of any second attack that might have been coming.
My knives were gone. I was blind and bleeding. Where was Kian? Was he dead on the ground?
A hand wrapped around my arm. I jerked it away, but the person held on tight. I balled my free hand into a fist and slammed it about where I thought a face might be—direct hit! The person cried out in pain.
“The fuck?” he shouted.
Kian. “Oh, god. I’m sorry—I—”
“Hold on,” was all the warning he gave before he said, “Teleportante.”
I was starting to get tired of hearing that word.
Chapter 11
For the third time tonight, a wave of confusion soared over me. Nausea accompanied it, sitting beneath the surface of my consciousness. As soon as we landed on damp, squishy ground, I doubled over and held my mouth with one hand, trying not to puke. My stomach convulsed anyway.
Exhaustion, Ava. Your body is tired. You’re not sick. Do. Not. Vomit.
Kian tugged on my arm, not giving me a moment’s rest. “We need to hurry.”
I glanced up at him, but it was dark. Only the moon lit the strong features of his face. “Where?”
“Let’s go,” he said through clenched teeth, yanking on my arm again.
Pain splintered through my side, where one of the demons’ blades had sliced. I stood, yelping in pain until a hand wrapped around my mouth.
“Shut up.”
My brow furrowed and I turned to give Kian a glare, but the darkness surrounding us made that difficult.
“They can follow the trail,” he said. “Unless you want to die, shut the hell up and keep moving. We’re nearly there.”
I complied as he continued to pull me along. Only now that I stopped to think about where we might have been, I realized he was more half-carrying me than pulling me. He had one of my arms wrapped around his shoulder and his other hand was holding something dark-colored. Except it was my bad arm and that was why the pain kept throbbing and burning anew with each step.
I pulled my arm from his shoulders and pressed on, my feet crunching on undergrowth. The smell of dirt and pine trees sifted into my nose. A forest.
Light poured through the trees the farther we walked. Soon, a two-story building made from wood panels and logs appeared before us. The tree-line ended and created a clearing around Hunter’s Guild, the tavern and inn that had stood on this very spot for over two hundred years. A staple of neutrality in a war between good and evil, one almost as old as time itself.
Sure, there were other venues, like Midnight. But things could get tricky there, unlike at Hunter’s Guild. The Guild had protection magiks that made violence or magik use a bad idea. They didn’t prevent it, per se, so much as wallop you back with your own magik or hand-to-hand blow tenfold.
Or so I was told. I’d never been stupid enough to test it.
“Almost there,” Kian huffed from behind me.
“You okay?” I hadn’t seen much of his fight, but his heavy breaths were shallow, as if he couldn’t get enough air.
“Better than you are. I grabbed a first-aid kit before I left. It’ll have to do.”
“You had enough time to grab one? When?”
He smirked, his face lit by the soft glow from Hunter’s Guild. “I think you blacked out after the first teleportante. Come on. We’re at the wall.”
First teleportante? How many other teleportation trips had we gone on without me realizing it?
As we passed across it, a shiver rocketed down my spine. From this point on, no magik or violence would happen. We were safe.
For now.
“I wish they’d set up the magik wall so it would be warm inside,” Kian said as he shook out his own shiver.
“Agreed.”
We hurried to the door, where Kian flashed his Fire Circle knife to the doorman. From what I heard, normal humans who happened to find the Guild by accident had their memories wiped clean and were sent on their way.
The front door swung open. Light poured out from the entryway and into the night, illuminating for the first time the extent of Kian’s injuries. His nose was red and bloody—that was from me—but he appeared otherwise okay. He walked with a slight limp, but it was no worse than after our fight in Midnight’s ring.
The other patrons closest to the door turned to us as we walked in, their eyes wide and mouths open. Some gasped; others smirked. Clearly, we’d used Hunter’s Guild as a last resort after escaping an attack. We were hardly the first.
Kian weaved through the crowd toward the bar, waving me on behind him. I followed. Aside from earlier today with Will, I hadn’t been in Hunter’s Guild since before my team had died. We’d spent so many nights here drinking after our patrols. A lot of the non-magik users did. It helped make us feel like we really were a part of this war, and not just magik-less soldiers employed by the Circles as f
rontline pawns.
“A room and a bottle of whiskey please,” Kian said.
“Excuse me?” I asked as the bartender nodded and wandered away.
Kian looked back at me over his shoulder. “Unless you’d prefer something else? What do you like to drink?”
“A room?”
We couldn’t stay here, not that long. Besides, Ben would hopefully be calling us in a few hours after the sun came up. Then we’d have a plan and a whole Circle of back-up.
Maybe.
Kian’s eyes wandered down my form, across my collarbones to my arm, then lower. A wash of crimson caught my eye. Blood seeped through my shirt from the arm hole almost to the bottom hem.
“Unless you’d rather clean yourself up out here, yes. A room,” Kian finally said.
I pressed my lips together. “Point taken. Thank you.” I knew the wound was bad. But ever since I apparently blacked out, the pain had numbed to a dull throbbing.
Probably not a good sign.
The bartender returned with a bottle of expensive-looking whiskey and a room key.
“Just add it to my tab. I get paid at the end of the week,” Kian said.
“Sure thing,” the bartender said. He nodded, then wandered away to another patron.
Kian thumbed over his shoulder to the stairs that led to the second floor filled with guest rooms. “Come on.”
Of all the times I’d come to the Guild, I’d never stayed overnight. I climbed the stairs behind Kian, watching the ground floor from above. There were so many people here tonight, but it was impossible to tell from here how many were demons and which were Hunters or witches. All I could tell was we still kept their interest because multiple sets of eyes were glued to me as we walked.
Please let it just be my wound. If this many people were invested in my eventual death at the hands of Talon, I was a dead woman.
I should have been a dead woman six months ago.
“Here.” Kian slipped the key into the door’s lock and pushed it open. “Ladies first.”
“How considerate,” I said dryly, passing him and walking into the room.
It looked like typical hotel accommodation. A queen-sized bed with unremarkable linens, with wood floors, an area rug, a door leading off into a bathroom, and a large couch on the other side of the room. Two bathrobes hung on hooks outside the bathroom door, reminding me of all the fancy hotels Brian and I used to spend our Hunter Circles money on during time off. Even if it was just for a night, getting away from hunting demons and living double lives had been worth every penny of that time spent together.
Time we’d been robbed of because of Veynix.
Sadness settled over me like a blanket, but the memories were fond ones, so I didn’t push them away.
“Cozy,” I said as Kian shut the door. “What’s the plan now?”
“Patch you up and call Dacher,” Kian said. He walked over to the bed and set the first-aid kit down. He’d actually brought one.
The sight of it renewed the pain in my side. “I don’t think that’s going to cut it with this wound.”
“It’ll have to.”
I shook my head. “A hospital might be better. Or Headquarters.”
“Ben said—”
“I don’t care what Ben said,” I spat. “They don’t know what it’s like. Not all Hunters have magik. We can’t fight like they do.”
“We did a pretty damn good job back there,” Kian said. “I don’t know if you got a good look at their outfits, but they had on Talon armor.”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you serious? I mean, I assumed it was them, but…” I hadn’t looked. “How’d they find us?”
Kian cringed and looked at the first-aid kit. And kept staring at it. “I… think that might have been my fault. Not yours.”
“How?”
He looked up again, his big, brown eyes surrounded by lines of worry. “I think they were after me. There’s no way Talon would have known where you were, except that you were with me after how we left Midnight.” His fists tightened at his sides. “Which means they’ve known my location for some time now—shit.”
My stomach dropped as an awful realization set in. “Don’t tell me.”
“It’s not what you—”
“You’re involved with Talon, too,” I said. “That’s why Ben partnered you with me. Because we both have the same problem.”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what’s going on, Kian?”
He lifted the first-aid kit from the bed. “Can we get you patched up so you stop bleeding everywhere first? Then I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
“Only if you promise this room is actually safe.”
His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry; I thought you knew that Hunter’s Guild has protection magiks that—”
I lifted a hand, cutting him off. “I know about the protection magiks. I just mean that Talon won’t risk an attack, period.”
“Only one demon in the last two hundred years has broken the rules at Hunter’s Guild,” Kian said. “And you were a Hunter when that happened. They upped the protection magiks after that attack.”
I swallowed hard. He was right. That demon had been more powerful than a couple of Talon soldiers put together, despite them being pretty dangerous in their own right. “Fine.” I lifted the bottom of my shirt up to just beneath my breasts. Red ran down the side of my abdomen. Some of the blood had caked, but too much was still fresh red. “Lovely.”
“Hang on.”
Kian stood and retreated quickly into the bathroom. As I ran my fingers along the edges of the wound, the sound of running water echoed from the bathroom. The echoes taunted my mind, holding memories of the overnight excursions Brian and I used to go on. A new city every weekend. A new country every other month. Anything to get away from this life, even if for a moment in time. Anything to feel his arms around me and know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was home as long as I was with him.
But that home had been tortured and broken and shattered, and I no longer had anywhere to go. My only goal was keeping Will safe and then… I didn’t know.
Lost in my reverie, I didn’t notice when my fingers drifted too far. I hissed in pain as they touched a particularly tender spot. The demon had sliced me pretty good. I’d need stitches probably.
My eyes roamed to the whiskey bottle on the bedside table as my heart dropped. “Oh, hell no.”
Kian came back into the room with a wet washcloth in one hand and a bigger hand towel in the other. He followed my line of sight to the whiskey bottle. “Well, as much as I’d love to take you out for a drink, I figured that was a no.”
I gave him an incredulous look. “You are not stitching me up.”
“Would you rather bleed everywhere and possibly get an infection?”
Heat lapped at my cheeks and neck. “I’d rather go to Headquarters and have them do their damn job for once.”
Kian’s expression softened. He gestured vaguely to my wound. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ve had worse and stitched myself up.”
I wanted to point out how stupid this was, but since I’d done so repeatedly since reporting in to Ben and Dacher hours ago, I clamped my mouth shut. Was the risk to Headquarters really that great that they couldn’t help their own Hunters? Headquarters had been the target of a number of attacks over the past year, but that didn’t mean Talon would do the same. Lady Azar, Aloysius’s daughter and at one time his heir, was a far cry from Talon. And Ben’s team had killed her.
“Come on,” Kian said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Just let me do this. Sometimes you don’t need to bother Headquarters with this stuff. It’s often better that you don’t.”
“Why? How could that possibly be a good thing?”
“Because they have enough trouble with non-magikal Hunters getting hurt as it is,” he said. “Training can only take you so far. And if you make it until you’re experienced enough to handle yourself on your own, when you do get hurt, they’re more di
sappointed than anything else.”
I leveled him with a look. “You’re really jaded. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“You’ve been a Hunter as long as me, Ava. You know that’s how it is in the Fire Circle.”
I swallowed hard. That was how it used to be, back before Dacher had become the Fire Circle Leader. But our previous Leader had been a liar and a traitor, and from everything Dacher had said, it was clear the previous Leader only cared about Hunters with magik.
“Dacher will be different,” I said. “He already has been.”
It was Kian’s turn to offer a hard stare. “Yeah? Then tell me why we’re hiding out at Hunter’s Guild right now instead of Headquarters.”
I glared at him. That was the same damn question I’d asked him. But… “Point taken.”
“We can still get you seen by a healer in the morning,” Kian said. “But until then, it’s this or a hospital, and last I checked, we’re trying to stay off the radar.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the door. “Some radar. I feel like everyone knew who we were.”
Kian cringed again. “Yeah. Again, that’s probably because of me, not you.”
“Are you going to explain that?”
“After I stitch you up.” He grabbed the whiskey bottle from the bedside table and offered it to me. “Drink up.”
Ugh. A sinking feeling sprouted in the pit of my stomach. This was a bad idea.
Still, I uncapped the whiskey bottle and drank a few small swigs. It’d settle my nerves at the very least.
“Fine,” I said when I was done. “Get it done fast.”
I leaned back onto one hand and grabbed the edge of the bed with the other. Kian gently cleaned away the blood despite the stinging his touch produced. I squeezed the edge of the bed but kept quiet. After rummaging through his first-aid kit and sterilizing everything, he went to work on the stitches. His deft hands made quick work of the procedure, leading me to believe this was far from his first time stitching anyone up.