Hunting Darkness

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Hunting Darkness Page 2

by Savannah Rose


  Usually, I don’t mind giving him a little attention. It’s clear to anyone with eyes that Ben has a soft spot for me, though it’s a little less clear as to why. Now, however, I’m much too eager to report what happened to bother pointless conversation.

  Thaon is the one who answers. He clearly doesn’t like the special attention Ben gives me, but I don’t care to ask why. “Yeah,” he says. “It was an interesting one.”

  “You mean the one near that tiny diner? It barely appeared on the radar.”

  “It was a low-ranked demon,” I tell him. “And it gave us much more trouble than we expected.”

  His blond brows shoot upwards, almost brushing the long strands of yellow hair hanging over his forehead. “What happened?”

  “You’ll hear about it later.” I pat him on the shoulder as I pass. “He’s in there, right?”

  “Yeah. And he’s not in a good mood.”

  “When is he ever in a good mood?”

  “Tonight he’s particularly snappish. Something must have happened.”

  “If it’s anything big, we’ll hear about it at the conference,” Thaon jumps in. That irritation from being put out of the conversation isn’t far from his eyes.

  Ben nods. He looks down at my leather, noticing the singes caused by the demon’s poison. “You should head down to my station after you give your report. Any longer and that’ll seep right through. You don’t want that.”

  I roll my eyes. “I know the drill, Ben. Stop wasting our time.”

  Before he has the chance to answer, I push the door open and step inside.

  I spot him immediately. He is standing by the wall sized window, staring down at the nightlife raging beneath him. He stands with his hands clasped behind him, neatly dressed in a grey three piece suit he is accustomed to wearing. With his legs apart and his shoulders pulled backwards, I am once again struck by how much this place favors heaven and how much this man is like a god.

  The Guild isn’t the Guild without its leader. And Mr. Black isn’t Mr. Black without a city to protect.

  He turns upon our approach. Ben is right. His face is lined even deeper with stress and when he makes his way to his large leather seat, his steps seem almost laden with burdens.

  “You took longer than you were supposed to,” is the first thing he says.

  I automatically feel my shoulders pull back. All emotion falls from my face. Beside me, Thaon does the same. “It took us a while to locate the demon,” I say.

  Mr. Black curls his fingers together before him. His sharp brown eyes shoot back and forth between Thaon and me. A few years ago, I would have cowered in fear. Now, I only stare back.

  He catches my eye and narrows his gaze. “It has been six hours,” he says.

  “The demon was in disguise,” Thaon tells him. “It was a very good one, despite the fact that it was a low-ranked demon.”

  Mr. Black narrows his eyes at Thaon. He swallows. A second clocks by before I say, “Permission to begin report.”

  Mr. Black looks at me. His perfectly placed hair catches the glint of the light as he leans back. “Permission granted.”

  I step forward. “We arrived at the location at nineteen hundred hours. We took our seats at the back of the diner and were immediately served by a waitress. Within the next five hours, only three other customers entered the establishment. The first two were a young couple. They came, sat, ordered two cups of coffee and, after arguing amongst themselves, they left. It appeared they were bickering about familial matters. The next customer was a large man. He ordered a sandwich, ate by himself then left. Three more hours passed and nothing of interest happened. After all that time, the waitress remained uninterested in us, though we sat there for quite a while without eating the food we’d ordered. I noticed that, though she was pregnant, she looked to be about sixty years old. When we looked a bit closer, we realized she had the hands of a child. I called its name.”

  Mr. Black’s face darkens. I don’t fidget or cower at the stark anger on his face. I only continue. “The demon reacted instantly. It was a low-ranked demon. To our surprise, however, the demon didn’t attack us, but instead, it ran.”

  He doesn’t react the way I expect him to. In fact, he doesn’t react at all. He only motions for me to continue. I frown slightly. “We gave chase and managed to apprehend it on the roof of a nearby building. We pinned it to the ground and questioned it about its actions. It said that it didn’t want to fight because it wanted to live.”

  “Did it say why?”

  “Because death is worse. It died before I could get anything else out of it. End of report.”

  I step back, gauging his reaction. It isn’t much. He nods, though a grim look falls over his face. “Melody, what is rule number one?”

  “Never speak its name out loud.”

  “And you blatantly continue to spit in the face of the Codex.”

  I blink slowly, knowing it will only stir his anger but not caring much. “You asked me for my report. I reported to the best of my abilities.”

  Though it seems impossible, his expression darkens even more. Before he gets the chance to respond, Thaon jumps in. “Permission to rest, sir,” he says.

  My head whips to him, eyes wide. He knows I want to stay and talk about the demon’s weird actions. If I’m dismissed right now, I won’t get the chance to. There is only so much defiance I can take in one day.

  Mr. Black’s eyes look to me. After a moment, he waves, “You may go, Thaon. Melody, you stay.”

  “Yes sir,” Thaon nods curtly and turns toward the door. Neither of us spare the other a glance. I’m surprised he didn’t jump at the chance to tell Mr. Black I had gone off on a frolic of my own.

  The door clicks closed and it’s only us. Silence drifts into the air, our eyes meeting the others like opponents on the battle field. I don’t know what he’s going to say to me, but I’m prepared for anything he sends my way. I’ve spent my entire life under him. He doesn’t scare me once like he used to.

  “Say it,” he says finally.

  I don’t move. “Say what, exactly?”

  “Say whatever it is you want to say. Say what’s on your mind. What you think about this situation. Go ahead. I know you want to.”

  “There isn’t much to say, sir, other than the fact that this is completely out of the norm. Low-ranked demons such as that don’t stop to think about self-preservation. They’d rather die trying to get human essence instead of saving their own life. And also taking in the fact that I called its name, it should have attacked me right there. But it didn’t. And you, sir, don’t seem surprised by that fact.”

  “That’s because I’m not.” He sighs, which shocks me to say the least. That isn’t something he ever does. “I’ve gotten two other reports just like this one.”

  “Why do you think this is happening?”

  “I don’t know. Crime rates have been dropping fast over the last five years. Demonic activity is at an all time low. At first, I thought it was because we were so good at our jobs, but now I wonder if it might be something else.”

  “If I may suggest something,” I say respectfully, though the words feel like poison on my lips. “The demon looked as if it was hiding from something. It looked genuinely scared at the thought of dying. It didn’t want to fight because it didn’t want to die. Whatever it was afraid of was clearly enough for it to go against its most basic instincts.”

  “The others said as much too.” The grim look that is settled over his face passes within the next second. “Okay, that’s enough, Melody. You may go now.”

  I take another step forward. “What do you plan on doing?”

  “I’ll take care of that.”

  “This isn’t normal. Let me go back out there. I can gather more information, find out what’s really happening out there. Just assign me another mission and I’ll –”

  “Melody! I said enough.” I purse my lips. Anger springs up inside me but I hold my tongue. “Go take care of your gear. Yo
u are dismissed.”

  When I don’t move, he pounds his hand on the table.

  “Go,” he says softly, barely concealed anger strengthening the simple word. “Before I really get mad.”

  I know better than to reply. I nod curtly, then turn toward the door. I’m barely able to hold myself back from whirling on my heels and demanding to be heard. Instead, I leave the room as calmly as I can. But I don’t stop there. I storm down the hallway, my steps so full with rage, it’s a wonder it doesn’t burn through the floor.

  He knows I hate being shouted at. Yet, he continues to do it, knowing I can’t respond. It is the only reason I don’t have many friends. Friends know you, and they know your weaknesses. They know how to make you mad, how to trip you up, how to turn you into a crying mess. No one should have that sort of power over me.

  Mr. Black is the only person in the entire Guild with the keys to unlock my vulnerability. Fortunately, as his daughter, I hold the keys to his.

  3

  The training facility is empty, much to my extreme annoyance. With the mood I’m in, picking on a newb would have brought some calm to my heart’s rapid successions of angry beats. Usually, at any time throughout the day, the training facility is filled with people sparring, or practicing their knife-throwing with the target boards hooked up around the large expansive area. It’s odd to see it so empty, but I suppose no one is as serious about training now as they were when I was younger.

  I remember the first time I got the chance to come in here as if it happened yesterday. I’m not the type to stay still, no matter what it is I’m supposed to be doing, and so, at the impressionable age of seven, I had snuck away from my tutor and had instantly bounded for the training facility. The path was clear as day to me, having followed my father – and the other hunters – there whenever I had the chance, but before I could get the opportunity to slip inside, I was pushed out. The excuse was always that I was too young. Since then I knew that was bullshit.

  I remember the way I felt that day. My little heart could hardly handle the excitement, and I wasn’t the least bit afraid of getting caught. In fact, the closer I came, the less aware and sneaky I was about my movements. It came to the point where I was full on running down the halls until I finally made it to the door.

  I had timed it perfectly. Since then, I know that there was something called ‘peak hours’. It’s those times of day where demonic activity is at an all time high, and so, because of that, there were less hunters present at the Guild. Actually, to my extreme luck that day, the area had been completely empty.

  The joy I felt that day was like no other. My seven-year-old body had racked with elation and I recall scarcely being able to keep my hands from shaking. The training facility is the only place I love more than my bed. Has been since I first walked into the room and still is now. I doubt it will ever change.

  I feel a tremor of that same euphoria lace my anger as I step inside. It’s the same as I left it. The ceiling overhead is so high, I can barely make out the tiny dots of luminescent lights put there to favor a starry night sky. It is the only warm feel of the place, rivaling the dozens of cold weapons stacked carelessly against the wall. It seems the cleaning lady hasn’t made her way around this section of the building as yet.

  Good enough for me. That trace of happiness flees when I remember my father’s infuriating words. Without thinking, I grab the nearest weapon – a double bladed sword – and charge over to the closest training dummy.

  I don’t think. I just attack. If it was a demon, its head would have been taken clean off. But since it isn’t, my sword only snags in the thick, brown wood of the dummy’s makeshift neck. Somehow, that makes me even angrier.

  My father – Mr. Black – is not a father to me. Putting it plainly. He is only the man who shared in my creation. He’s the person who gave me my black hair, my sharp brown eyes and my downturned mouth. He created a carbon copy of himself with me, then left me to fend for myself. Ever since I was young, I have only known him as the leader of the New York Guild, the man who runs everything, the man with strings to pull and people under his control. And, above all, he is the best damn hunter in the country.

  Even with all that, I looked up to him. I admired him. I wanted to be like him. It wasn’t until I learned about him, got to know who Mr. Black really is, did the perfect image I had of him dissipate.

  Now, I know him. I know that, on par with protecting the city, there is something else Mr. Black wants to hold close and dear. It isn’t his daughter, it isn’t even the Guild. It’s the fact that he has the strength and skill to not only take on almost any demon that comes his way, but any hunter as well. Mr. Black loves his expertise. And what he doesn’t love is that he passed that skill on to me.

  Two hundred and six. That’s my demon count. I’ve killed two hundred and six demons, and have successfully completed almost as many missions. It isn’t as big a number as Mr. Black’s, but’s it’s close. That’s why he hates me. He doesn’t like that I’m right on his heels.

  He doesn’t have to say it. I see the grim look he gives me whenever my achievements are announced. I see the clench of his jaw and the flicker of irritation in his eyes. I don’t react to it anymore. I’ve stopped ever since I first noticed he no longer forces himself to pat me on the shoulder and push out the words ‘I’m proud of you’. It doesn’t even bother me.

  In actuality, my fervor is bolstered by that fact. I have one mission and that is to become the best damn hunter the world has ever known. Mr. Black isn’t about to come in the way of that.

  I swing the sword with such force it cuts right through the dummy. Its wooden head thuds onto the floor. I stare at it, panting. Sweat lines the sides of my face, and I wipe at it, pushing the strands of hair that have fallen from my ponytail away. I only look at the dummy a second longer before I move to another one.

  “What’s got you so spirited?”

  My body tenses automatically, though I don’t turn to the sound. I don’t answer either, but the source isn’t likely to stay quiet. She comes to stand before me, watching the way I vigorously slice at the dummy.

  “Those aren’t very easy to put back together, you know?” she says, crossing her arms. Though I don’t look at her, I notice she has a bow slung over one shoulder.

  I still don’t answer. She walks around me, giving me a wide berth and picks up the dummy’s fallen head. She puts it back on its neck and it falls over once more. “Hm,” she goes on to say. “This cut is so jagged and uneven. Looks like you bashed it in with a club.”

  “These swords aren’t as sharp as they used to be.”

  “That’s because you’re using a newbie sword.”

  I stop and look at the sword. She’s right. Newbie weapons are only half as sharp as regular ones. It’s to prevent the newbs from hurting themselves too much when sparring, but with enough danger for them to be alert at all times. A few of the scars on my stomach are as a result of newbie weapons.

  I throw it aside. “You plan to use that bow?”

  She quirks her brow at me. “I’ll give it to you if you can tell me my name.”

  Shit. I’d never tried to learn her name. I call her Rusty because of her orange hair and freckled face. Other than that, I don’t pay much attention to her. She’s cute and dedicated, but she isn’t the most talented hunter. “Onelia,” I guess on a whim.

  “You couldn’t be more wrong.” She rolls her eyes, but pulls the bow off her shoulder nonetheless. “It’s Abigail,” she tells me, handing me the bow. “We’ve been on several missions together, Melody. How can you still not remember my name? And don’t say it’s because I should have been named Rusty because that’s not how it works.”

  I only shrug. Rusty – I mean, Abigail – is a talkative girl and talking isn’t something I’m particularly interested in right now.

  Unfortunately, Abigail doesn’t seem to sense that. She follows me to the target boards. I ignore her as I take a quiver full of arrows lying on the floo
r and sling it over my shoulder.

  “So,” she begins just as I pull my first arrow. It finds a home in the centre of the board. I’m on to the next before the first arrow even settles. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m practicing. I’m always practicing.”

  “At almost two in the morning? You’re usually sleeping at this time, aren’t you? I know you are, because when I wake up to train you’re usually snoring in your bed.”

  Those damn communal rooms are going to be death of me. The Guild is big, but not big enough that every hunter can have their own quarters.

  I want to instantly deny ever snoring, but the words don’t pass my lips. Instead, I make my way up to the target board to withdraw the arrows.

  Abigail doesn’t follow me this time, she just talks louder. “So, what’s the hubbub?” she presses.

  Oh God, she’s annoying. I’m not responsible for the things I’ll say if she pushes me to a point of no return. She can clearly tell I’m not in the mood, yet she continues to badger me, so if I snap, she asked for it.

  “Hm?” she pushes. I grit my teeth.

  “I’m just coming back from a mission.”

  “So late? Wow, what kind of mission is that? It isn’t even peak hours.”

  “Just a regular mission.”

  “That’s weird.” She puts a finger on her chin, thinking about it for a second. Then she shrugs. “Anyway, I was wondering. Have you heard from Natalia?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “She went on a mission last night and hasn’t been back since. I’m beginning to get worried.”

  I stop what I’m doing and look at her. “What kind of mission?”

  She shrugs again. “It sounded simple when she was telling me about it. It isn’t a low-ranked but not an archdemon either, so she should have been back by now.”

  “What time exactly did she leave?”

  “About nine last night.”

  “And she isn’t back yet?” I lower the bow. If she really did leave last night, she should have been back latest this afternoon. Natalia is a good hunter. A great one, actually. She is almost on par with me, and I’m yet to find a better sparring partner than her. Above all, she is the closest thing I have to a friend.

 

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