by Izzy Shows
I was regretting that decision already. She was...she was history, she was someone I had looked up to when studying history, for her stance and her bravery. If there was an opportunity to pull her back from the edge, I wanted to take it.
Mal just looked at me, his eyes cautious. "One and the same," he said. "She is very dear to me."
I nodded, my throat working around a sudden lump. I could understand that. Had he fallen before she was cast out or had he observed her from afar? There were so many questions I wanted to ask. Had he fallen because of her? Had she taken angels with her? I wanted to pick her brain, ask her about the world and the way it had evolved and how she had survived the curse that had been put on her and what had warped her into a demon and...
There was so much. But she would have to be cleared of her addiction before I could get to any of that.
I walked over to her, knelt in front of her, and reached out a hand to tilt her chin up. She wouldn't meet my eyes now, strange since she hadn't been able to look away a minute ago.
"Get away," she said, her voice rasping. "You have to get away."
"Look at me," I said. I wanted her to look at me, see if she would recognise me again.
Her eyes pulled up to meet mine. They were guarded, filled with pain, and I found that I wanted to soothe her. Tell her it would all be OK and that we were here to help her now.
And then she lunged at me, teeth bared and arms straining against the chains that held her.
I rocked back, landing on my ass with a grunt, barely out of her reach. Mal was behind me in a heartbeat, pulling me up and away from her.
"You shouldn't get so close. You're a temptation to her," he said.
"You're right, it's too soon for that. She's going to need to adjust, but there's time for that later. She needs to be weaned off the hard stuff right now..." I trailed off, now realising the horror of the situation Mal had put me in. "How do you intend on feeding her?"
"There are humans who enjoy being with her kind," he said. "They frequent Serenity. I will speak to some of them, bring them to her, and watch over to make sure she doesn't hurt anyone. I'll only feed her clean energy, she'll learn that it's enough."
"No!" She wailed from the corner where she laid. "No, not that, please, you have to give me the mages."
I turned to look at her again, wondering what she had been like before this ailment had claimed her. She must have been wonderful.
"Come, we should talk in the other room," Mal said.
I nodded and followed him out, he shut the door behind him.
"This isn't going to be easy," I said, keeping my voice low so she couldn't hear me through the door.
"I know that, but this is something that I have to do."
"I know. I'm not telling you not to do it...Glory, just to speak to her when she's fully functional...how did this happen?" I shook my head. "I wouldn't have thought someone like her would fall to addiction."
His lips were set in a firm line. "I don't believe it was as simple as that. She's not like this. I haven't seen her in a long time, but still, she wouldn't have let herself get caught up like this. This isn't the woman I know."
I frowned, chewing at the inside of my lip—it was sore, I'd bit clean through it earlier, but the pain was good. I didn't want to tell him that this was what happened with addicts. They disappointed you, they were different than you expected them to be, they never followed through when you needed them to.
She wasn't going to be the woman he thought she was, never again. I knew that, but it seemed like Mal wasn't ready to accept that fact. My heart ached for what he was going to have to go through with this. Who knew how long it was going to take?
A human could take years to overcome an addiction. For something far more powerful, it could take decades. Centuries, even, for all I knew. Was he going to be able to handle watching her fall apart, watching her slip away from him, watching her fail him, for that long?
If a human comparison was any indication, he might not be able to. Caregiver burnout was a very real thing, and it was so much worse for those who took care of addicts. It's emotionally draining, watching someone ruin themselves and knowing what they could be if they just wanted it enough.
What if she didn't want it enough?
"Mal..." I started, but couldn't figure out what else to say.
"No, Blair. She's going to make it through this. I won't settle for anything else."
I glanced up at him, wanting desperately to be able to give him some piece of mind, but I didn't have anything in me that could help.
I didn't want to tell him that he was going to lose her, so I didn't say anything about it.
"I'll help you," I said at last. "We're in this together."
Gods help me, I didn't know what else to do.
42
I stood on the pavement outside of Mal's apartment building, biting at my lip and debating. I didn't want to go home yet, wasn't ready to face all the thinking ahead of me. It was well into the night, there wasn't anything left to do.
I wanted to see Emily.
I pulled out my phone and punched in her number, praying she was still awake. She answered on the third ring.
"Hello?" Her voice had an almost sleepy quality to it, indicating I'd caught her just as she was about to doze off.
"Hey, it's Blair, I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"Not yet," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Do you need me?"
"I just...I'm not ready to go home yet. So much happened, and I haven't finished processing, and I don't want to do it alone..."
"Come over, we'll have some tea and talk about it."
I exhaled a breath I hadn't realised I was holding, relief washing over me. How did she always know the right thing to say?
"Thank you," I said.
"See you soon. Bye," she said.
We hung up, I pocketed my phone, and walked around to the bus stop. I waited, smoking a cigarette, and gazing up at the clouds as they passed over the moon. It was a beautiful night. Why couldn’t I enjoy it?
The bus rattled in and I climbed aboard, paying my fee, and taking a seat. It didn’t take long to get to Emily’s house, a cosy little building completely at odds with its surroundings. I exited the bus and stared up at her house.
Wavering for half a second—I felt like I was imposing, I should just turn around and go home, let her get some sleep—I walked up and knocked on the door.
As if she had been waiting on the other side, she opened it immediately with a giant smile on her face. She was wearing a tank top and sweat pants, her red curls bouncing against her bare shoulders with the slight movement of her head. Her bronze skin gleamed in the moonlight, and I was struck by how soft and feminine she looked. Every time I had seen her she was either in armour or wearing one of her business suits, she always looked like she was ready to deal with anything that came at her.
Now, sleep had softened the hard look in her eyes, her lips curled up at the edges, and I couldn't stop myself. I stepped across the threshold without an invitation, leaving my power at the door, and threw my arms around her.
She wrapped me in a tight hug, my head resting against her shoulder, and I felt a shudder pass through me.
So much had happened.
"It's OK," she said, rubbing my back.
"I didn't finish it, Emily, I couldn't," I said, my voice cracking. "You didn't see her, she needed help...I couldn't take her from him."
"She asked for mercy, and it was freely given. Now, we can only hope she finds her way and steps aside from the path she set herself upon."
I inhaled, fighting back the tears that had jumped into my throat. She smelled like vanilla and sugar, and she was...safe. I was safe with her, a feeling I didn't have the luxury of most of the time.
We stayed like that for what felt like eternity, and yet nowhere near long enough at the same time, just holding one another with the door wide open. Finally, I pulled away from her.
"Sorry," I mut
tered, looking down at the ground with cheeks flaming.
She touched my chin, my eyes leapt to find peace and acceptance in hers. "Never apologise for being yourself with me."
Her words only served to heat my cheeks more, but I smiled and nodded. She was too good to me.
"Do you want tea?" She tilted her head towards the kitchen, a gentle smile on her lips.
I nodded, biting my lip.
"Come on, then," she said.
I walked further into the house, she shut the door behind me and then caught up with me, taking the lead. She made her way to her kitchen, putting the kettle on.
"Do you want to talk about tonight?"
I sighed. "It wasn't anything I wanted it to be. It was so cut and dry when we went into it, what happened? How did I cock it up so much?"
She giggled. "You didn't, Blair, it wasn't your fault."
"She was supposed to die. I swore to protect those mages, and now she's alive, and I'm responsible for every single death that follows. Everything she does is on me."
She lifted a thin eyebrow. "You take on too much. It's not your fault if she hurts someone."
"It is, though. I let her live, so everything she does from now on is on me. My chest is heavy and I don't know how I'm going to do any of this, Mal has her locked up but what if she gets out, and he's not going to listen to reason if she hurts someone and I have to intervene..."
"Why is he involved?" She walked to a cabinet and pulled out two cups, setting them on the counter and fishing out two tea bags, which she draped inside the cups.
"She's his ex-girlfriend," I said, rolling my eyes. "He wants to save her.'
She looked over her shoulder at me, tilting her head to the side with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Who do you think he would pick?"
"What?" I jerked back, blinking in surprise.
"If she hurt someone, and it came down to her or you, who do you think he would pick?"
"Her. He already chose her."
"Hmm, no, not really. She wasn't a threat to you when he saved her. When she was attacking you, he defended you, or chose not to interfere depending on how the fight was going. He didn't get in your way, and he must have recognised her sooner."
"Why are you even talking about this?" I looked away from her, my cheeks heating again. She couldn't know about the kiss, it couldn't be written all over my face, right? Why was she asking these questions?
"He likes you," she said with a shrug, turning fully around to look at me. "It's obvious." She was watching me with careful eyes, observing my reaction.
I shrugged, still not looking at her. I didn't know what to say—I wanted to refute her statement, but I couldn't. He had kissed me, that spoke volumes as to how he felt about me. I'd always assumed the flirtatious nature of our friendship had just been the way he was, I hadn't realised that he was expressing interest in me. I felt like an idiot now, an idiot that had encouraged him by not telling him to cut it out sooner.
What was worse, I was an idiot that was attracted to him.
No, we're not going down that road. He's Fallen, he doesn't understand human morality, that's a whole barrel of bad news.
I wasn't going to be the dumb human who got caught up with a demon. That just wasn't me.
Finally, I looked up at Emily. "If he thinks he does, it's only because he doesn't know me."
She laughed. "Blair, that's ridiculous. Of course, you're beautiful, a blind man could see that. It's not his fault he's taken with you, but for you to think that someone getting to know you would preclude an attraction..." She shook her head, smiling. "You're a wonderful person, and knowing you only brings more adoration."
I blushed, looking away again. What did she mean by that?
"Anyway," I said, clearing my throat. "The succubus, Lilith, isn't going anywhere anytime soon. I hope. Mal has her chained up. I'm just going to have to trust that he knows what he's doing, because I have no bloody clue what to do in this situation."
The kettle whistled on the stove, and Emily crossed the small room to pick it up, pouring the steaming water into the cups.
"Come on, let's have some tea," she said, smiling at me.
I inhaled, letting the smell of chamomile tea mingling with Emily's vanilla scent wash over me, seeping into my bones, and bringing a sense of comfort that I cherished.
There was no place quite like Emily's.
43
Dawn was breaking in the sky above when I finally made it home. I didn't make it into the house yet, though, choosing to sit on the steps outside my door and have a cigarette.
Still couldn't quite go inside.
Seeing Emily had done wonders for my nerves, allowing me to relax and feel comfortable with myself once again. She was a balm for the soul that could not be over appreciated no matter what.
And yet...
I lit the cigarette and pulled hard, forcing the nicotine out of it and into my lungs. I exhaled, watching the smoke billow into the sky above.
What had I become?
I didn't recognise myself anymore. Two years ago, I had been struggling to find my way, about to be evicted from yet another flat, without a job. I had been scrounging for work, the last job I'd taken had been me posing as a private investigator. Now I consulted with the police on cases that had some supernatural element in them, though the big brass didn't know it. Now, I had a roof over my head that I came back to night after night and didn't worry too much about losing it.
I hadn't known who I was then, but did I know who I was now?
I killed people.
Monsters.
People.
It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference, and that was cutting into my sanity. I pulled on the cigarette again, wishing I could blow my sins away like I did the smoke. That was another reason why I didn't want to go into the house—the moment my head hit the pillow, I was going to fall asleep. I was too exhausted for anything else, and as soon as I was asleep the nightmares would begin.
My victims haunting me, pleading with me for mercy, demanding to know why they had to be killed while others were allowed to roam the streets.
I didn't have answers for them, and more often than not I woke up in a sweat just as they were about to kill me.
One time they had succeeded. Guess it's not true what they say about dying in your sleep; that had been the worst night I'd ever experienced and I hadn't slept for two days after that.
"Am I the monster now?" I said the question aloud, though no one was there to answer. "I'm the one killing...I'm the Hunter. Am I supposed to be proud of that, that there are people—are they people—that are afraid of me..." I was talking to myself, but I didn't see the harm in it. If I was going to go crazy from lack of sleep, I might as well embrace it.
I should go inside and fall asleep, let the nightmares take me and accept my punishment.
I finished the cigarette, stubbing it out on the concrete steps. There was little point in staying out here, staving off the inevitable, but I didn't want to go in. I was scared of what would come when I fell asleep, scared of who I would dream of next.
I stood abruptly, glaring out at nothing in particular but the world that challenged me.
"If I have to be a monster to keep other people safe, then so be it," I said, scowling.
I turned and walked into the house, slamming the door behind me.
I would be the Hunter in the Darkness.
I would be the monster.
Book four is coming soon!
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Also by Izzy Shows
The Codex Blair Series
Grave Mistake
Blood Hunt
Dark Descent
About the Author
Izzy Shows writes urban fantasy novels for adults, and much more in her spare time. She’s also an avid LARPer and enjoys storytelling in all art forms. She can be a little cooky, and really enjoys talking about her
works, writing in general, or all things fantasy. To learn more about her you can follow her on twitter or check out her website.
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