Between the Bleeding Willows (The Demon Hunters Series Book 1)

by Roach, D. A.

  Returning to the kitchen, I poured my soda. The whistling resumed, catchy tune. I swear I knew that song. I hummed along with the melody until the title finally came to mind. “Pretty Women” from Sweeney Todd. My God, how could Killian know that song? He couldn’t; most of the Clan knew little if any pop culture anything. I only knew it because it was Jace’s earworm.

  The can of soda dropped from my hands, spilling onto the floor. I grabbed a bundle of paper towels and mopped it up.

  “Looks like you dropped something.” Killian stood in the door way; his demeanor was different. His usual stance with arms crossed across his chest, looking pissed off and in charge, was replaced with his thumb hooked in his belt loop, leaning casually against the doorframe.

  I gasped at the resemblance. “Jace?”

  “What did you call me?” His mouth pulled up slightly on one side into a fraction of a smile.

  “Sorry, how do you know that tune?”

  “I’ve heard you hum it. Quite often, in fact.”

  Could that be true? It was a catchy tune, and I’d heard Jace whistle it often. Maybe it was in my head as well. “Sorry, you must be right. Can I get you anything?”

  “Yeah, changed my mind. I'll take a glass of water please.”

  Turning toward the cabinet that housed the glasses, I took a calming breath. So much had happened in the last few days, it was wearing on me.

  “Here you go.” I handed him the glass of water. “Want to watch a movie, take a nap, or…?”

  “We can watch TV. I’m not very tired right now.” He waited for me to lead the way into the living room.

  “Do you need more pillows?”

  “No.” Using his good arm, he propped the pillows behind his back and sat up, facing the TV.

  “I’m supposed to tattoo you tomorrow. Serena said you’d help explain how to work the machine.”

  He looked at me, but didn’t say a word.

  “But, I’m worried I’ll screw it up. I think I’ll call her later and ask her to do it.” Killian said nothing.

  The TV droned on in the background and it wasn’t long before Killian fell into a deep sleep. He looked peaceful in his slumber as he purred a quiet snore. For such a tough guy, he seemed pretty tame and vulnerable on Gram’s sofa.

  I had two weeks to care for Killian and get him well enough for a crossover. How hard could that be? Besides feeding him, keeping him comfortable, changing his arm bandage, and dosing his medicines, there wasn’t much more to do. Killian stirred and rolled onto his side, away from me.

  He had such a strong reaction when he saw the tattoo Tyler placed on me. And although I think he overreacted, I could also understand why he might feel the way he did. After all, he went from being bonded to me and knowing my emotions, to being cut off and replaced. That’s a knock to one’s ego. Hopefully he could look past it and see the situation for what it really was…Tyler saving me. All of that angel blood plus the power from Rya’s ring…I was breaths away from dying. Serena had said it created a cancer within me. Tyler did the only thing he could think of to save me, remove one of the sources of power…the Clan tattoo that bound me to Killian.

  The new star tattoo on my wrist, binding me to Tyler, was placed on me to help me survive whatever Hell Rya had planned for me. Thankfully Killian and his crew fought hard to save me.

  And Jace, forever lost to the darkness since consuming Siggy and Angeline’s souls, was a terrible new threat with his telekinesis gift.

  Killian needed to heal fast so he could be ready to face them once again. The numbers were not in his favor. Losing a Caster and Necromancer meant spells on the demon binding chamber and gates would soon weaken. When they finally did wear off, demons would be free to charge the gates into the Human Realm, bringing Hell to Earth.

  At least the Demon Hunters had gained my dad. It was such a small world, how connected we were to each other, but I guess when you dealt with magic and mysticism, there were forces that drew us together. Hank didn’t seem like dad material. Rather, he seemed like an older Clan member who happened to know a lot of my history. Maybe one day that would change, and we would grow closer.

  ***Sneak Peek***

  Within the Darkest Hollows

  The Demon Hunter Series, Book 2

  Chapter One

  Cassidy

  Several hours passed with Killian still asleep. Pizza sounded good, so I ordered from Fox’s Pub. Hopefully Killian liked mushroom and sausage on his pizza. “Hey Killian, pizza will be here shortly.”

  He rubbed at his eyes and yawned, then sat up on the couch, quickly pulling the comforter tight around him. “God, it’s cold in here.”

  Oh no. I wasn’t cold at all. “I’ll get a thermometer.” When I returned with the device and some Advil, I checked his temperature: 100.5 F.

  “Well?”

  “Well, you have a low grade temperature. I think I should call Serena.”

  “No. I’m okay. Let’s just wait till the morning. If it gets worse you can call, but let’s give it some time. It could just be my body trying to heal,” Killian urged me.

  “Okay, I’ll recheck in a few hours. Till then, take two of these.” I plopped two Advil on his palm. “I wish we could tattoo you now to help the healing, but I promised Lena I’d wait till tomorrow.”

  After pizza and a movie, I rewrapped Killian’s arm and re-dosed his medicine. Then I helped him into the downstairs guest bedroom and tucked him into bed. “Don’t be alarmed if I check on you at night to monitor your temperature. And if you need me, just yell. I’ll just be up the stairs with my door open.”

  “Thanks, Cassidy.”

  Switching the light off, I returned, “You’re welcome, Killian. Goodnight.”

  I fell into the deepest sleep—a lucid sleep, the kind where the edges of reality and dreaming are blurred.

  My hands were held fast to my sides; I couldn’t move them even an inch. Killian loomed over me. His face held no emotion; he just stared and studied my face.

  Was I dreaming? “Killian, what is it?”

  His fingers squeezed my wrist, nails biting at my flesh.

  “Ow, stop!”

  He pulled back, his fingers released their hold on me. The room was dark but there was enough light for me to see his eyes; they were so empty, like he wasn’t in his body. He stood and walked out of my room without a word.

  I lay there stunned, still immobile from my sleep state.

  “Cassidy!” There was panic in Killian’s voice from the lower level. I bolted out of my room and down the stairs to his room. He sat on the edge of the bed staring at his hands in his lap.

  “Killian, are you okay?” I knelt next to him and took his hands in mine. His frantic eyes met mine. What was going on?

  “I don’t know.” The bandage was ripped off his wound; pieces of it lay on the floor next to his feet.

  “What did you do? What happened?”

  “I had a terrible dream. You were lying there, so peaceful in your sleep. I had to get closer, so I did. But your eyes opened, you were in pain. Then my body became so light, I floated a few inches from the ceiling, but I couldn’t get down.” He rubbed his eyes. “These damn medicines are messin’ with my mind.” His head shook.

  “Do you remember taking this off?” I held a shredded bandage in my hands.

  His eyes widened and he looked to his injured arm that was seeping blood. “No.”

  “Does it itch? Sometimes when things heal they itch, and you could have peeled it off in your sleep for relief.”

  “Honestly, it hurts to have the air on it. The bandage was actually soothing.”

  “Yeah, and it’s still bleeding some. Let me go get what I need to rewrap it.” Killian bent and helped collect the bandage scraps.

  “Sorry to wake you, Cass.”

  “No, no worries. That’s what I’m here for.” I threw the scraps in the kitchen garbage and went to the sink to scrub my hands clean. The hot water called attention to my wrists. Upon closer inspect
ion, I saw the slightest fingernail imprints on both wrists.

  “Cassidy, need any help?”

  “No, I’m coming.” Maybe the meds were making him sleepwalk. I might have to lock him in his room so he doesn’t harm himself. Or me. Grabbing the bin of supplies, I headed toward his room.

  Once he was bandaged, I got Killian a glass of water. “You know, I had a weird dream too…you visited me in my room.” He looked surprised, but I continued, “Killian, maybe the meds are making you sleepwalk?”

  “What did I do in your room…in the dream?”

  “Nothing really.” I didn’t want him to feel bad if he couldn’t control it. “But we might have to consider locking you in the room, you know, for your own safety.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Hey, how are you feeling? Any fever?” I reached over to feel his head.

  “I feel fine.” He did not feel hot or clammy.

  “Okay, well, try to get some sleep.” I tucked the blankets around him and turned out the light. “Night, Killian.” His clock read 4 a.m., still some time to get more sleep.

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  Acknowledgments

  Thanks:

  To my family, for putting up with the sink full of dirty dishes, and bins of unfolded laundry—chores that had to be set aside while I worked on this book.

  To my mom, my personal beta-reader and problem finder.

  To my home town of Homer Glen and the residents…it was home for many years and will always be a part of my stories.

  To my editor, for boldly diving into my text and cleaning it to perfection.

  To my street team for being supportive, loving, and so helpful to me. Thanks Michelle S, Tiffany R., Andrew R., Liz U., Kimberly V., Lori P., Giovanna C., Bradon N., Carissa L., Barbi S., Laura P., Amanda W. PA, and Madelynn W. PA.

  To my dedicated readers who support me and share how my stories touched them. Your feedback helps me push on and write my next book. You all are invaluable to me!

  To Google and Wikipedia for being amazing resources.

  About the Author

  D.A. Roach has been telling stories since she was a young girl in the suburbs of Chicago. In college she met the man of her dreams, her happily ever after, and married him 2 weeks after graduating. They have 3 kids together and a pet cockatiel named Gimli. D.A. did not find a love for books until after college. Her parents were immigrants from Lithuania and found tv and radio easier ways to hear stories so they did not do much reading or encourage it. But once she finished college and D.A. had free time, she discovered how amazing it was to get lost in a story.

  D.A. is a full time mom and wife. When she is not doing domestic things (laundry, bills, etc) she is writing, reading, creating mixed media art, and helping beautify her kids’ school landscape. Oh, and she is ALWAYS listening to music. Her favorite authors include Rebecca Donovan, Richelle Mead, Larissa Ione, Stephanie Meyer, E.L. James, and Sylvia Day. Reading great works from authors like these has motivated D.A. to write her own stories. She hopes to make positive changes in the world with her art and writing.

  “Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”

  ―George Bernard Shaw

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