When I got back to my room there was a note slid under the front door. I unfolded it and saw harsh, wavy letters scribbled across the paper.
Mentor meeting today at 3 in my room #1826
Don V.
I let out a sigh of relief as I folded the note back up. I had been waiting for these elusive mentor meetings for weeks. Don disappeared after the swearing in ceremony and it made me worry I wouldn’t see him again for a long time. He promised he would be around, but I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since.
After a quick shower I changed into my uniform again and I walked the resident halls looking for Don’s room. It was in another wing off of the ones the initiates stayed in. When I knocked on his door, there came a loud thud from inside, like someone had run into something heavy. And then came the sliding of a chain. Don opened the door a crack and peered out.
“Oh, good, it’s you,” he said and opened the door fully.
My face scrunched together as I stared up at him. “Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?”
“What? No one. Come in,” he barked.
The room looked nothing like the one I stayed in. For starters, there was only one bed, which meant Don had the room to himself. Mine also had an upscale hotel vibe, where Don’s room had a just off the highway, cheap motel vibe, but that probably had more to do with his cleaning skills that anything else. There were papers everywhere, the bed was unmade, the trash can was full of food wrappers, and there was a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on his nightstand.
“Sit anywhere,” he said as he poured himself a drink.
I sat in a chair at the round table in the corner. He sat in the other chair, opposite from me. His hand never left the short glass.
“How do we start this?” I asked when the silence became unbearable. If I wanted to sit around and do nothing, I might as well have gone back to my room to get some extra studying in.
“Why don’t you tell me about your training for the last eight weeks?” He brought the glass to his lips and sipped at the pale brown liquid inside.
I yearned for a drink myself, but I wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask for one. There were no rules for drinking during training. Don saw me eyeing his glass and smiled.
“You want one?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, but stood up and poured me half a glass.
I sipped at it, letting the whiskey burn my throat as it traveled down to my stomach and eased the tension in my shoulders.
“Well, I like Creatures and Beings class. It’s a lot of stuff to memorize, but it’s fascinating. All the things out there I never knew about…it’s insane.”
Don nodded his head as he continually drank.
“And I like Rashne. He seems to be on my side as far as the whole non-descendant thing goes.”
“Makes sense,” Don said. “It was a big deal when they brought him in. The first creature of Darkness to work for the Light and be a Chamber member. I’m guessing he knows very well what it’s like to be the man on the outside with everyone rooting for him to fail.”
“So not all Djinns are on our side?” I asked as I raised my glass to my lips.
Don snorted. “Hardly. They are disgusting, foul, dangerous creatures.”
It was hard to believe. I nodded and took another sip. It went straight to my head and spun it around a couple times. I had to push the glass away and give myself a break. It had been a while since my last drink.
“David Yu is nothing like Rashne. I don’t get him at all. One day he’s saying snide remarks about me being a non-descendant, then the next he’s congratulating me on being such a good shot, then he’s getting in my face about defending my friend during sword training—”
“He got in your face?” Don interrupted, straightening himself up in his chair. He swayed slightly.
“Well, kind of. It wasn’t anything too bad. He was yelling at Holly and I basically told him to back off and he stared me down for a while. That’s all. Nothing I can’t handle.”
After scrutinizing me, Don settled back into his chair and took another large gulp from his glass, draining it dry. He got up and went to the nightstand to pour himself another one.
“So everything’s been pretty normal, then?” he asked from the bedside, his back turned to me.
“Yeah, pretty quiet. Oh, Ryker shot me in the foot the first day at the gun range,” I added, nonchalant. It had been almost two months since the incident and the recovery had been so short I had almost forgotten about it completely.
Don whirled around, spilling some of his drink onto the carpet. “He did what!?” he yelled.
“I healed in a day, though,” I said to put his mind at ease. “That Caladrius comes in handy, huh?”
He blinked absent-mindedly, as if he forgot where he was for a moment. Looking down at the drink in his hand, he turned back and filled it up again.
“They’re nice to have with you if you can find one.” He sat back down in the chair across from me, his heavy eyebrows raised in question. “Anything else I should know about? Did Ryker cut off your arm or stab you in the neck or anything?”
I let out a husky laugh. “No, nothing so extreme. He’s left me alone since then.”
Don raised his drink to his thin lips and paused again before taking a sip. “That’s good.”
I racked my brain to think of anything else that had gone on. As far as mentoring went, the meeting wasn’t proving to be useful. Instead, I felt like I was reporting to my father about how I had done in school. The thought made me miss my dad, my mom, and then Danny, as everything ultimately came back around to.
I scratched at the back of my neck and tried to force my mind elsewhere. It landed on the dream I had about the hooded figure trying to take the goblet from the cluttered room.
“There is one thing,” I said cautiously, still unsure if I should mention it at all.
My fingers reached for my drink across the table. I raised the glass and felt the burn in my throat again. Eventually, it numbed over. Numbness was a feeling I constantly strived to achieve.
“What is it?” Don asked as he leaned forward in his chair.
“I had this dream. I thought it was the dream I always have about the night my son died.” My voice wavered and I felt my throat tighten. “But when I went through his door I was in a large room with shelves full of, I don’t know, it looked like junk.
“There was a man inside the room. He was wearing a cloak like the one everyone wears here, like the ones issued to us, and he was reaching for something. It was a goblet of some sort, black with these gaudy, scary designs all over it. I woke up just before he grabbed it.”
Don’s eyes were large orbs staring right into mine. “Did you get a look at who it was?”
I shook my head. “His back was turned to me the whole time.”
“And you’re sure that’s what you saw?” he pressed, leaning in closer.
I cocked my head and furrowed my brow. “Yes…why?”
Don let out a sigh and threw himself back in his chair. He tipped his glass and let every drop slide down his throat before slamming it upside down. There was a haze in his grayish eyes and a new slack to his shoulders.
“Nothin’,” he said with a slight slur.
He was drunk. It was my chance to find out what was really going on—if my dream was important or not. Judging by Don’s reaction, it was.
“Please, you can tell me.” I looked at him with soft, pleading eyes.
He leaned his head back for a moment and then let it roll forward again. “Remember that item I told you I had to bring here when we were on the train, the one I had in my bag?”
I nodded my head vigorously, urging him to continue.
“It was the goblet, the one you saw in your dream. And that room, it’s here in headquarters. The Dark Artifacts room, remember? I told you about it.” He spoke slowly, like he was trying extra hard not to stumble over his words in his drunken stupor.
I had forgotten all about that part of our conversation o
n the train. “Why would someone want to take it?”
“It’s a powerful and dark item. If used the right way, it can open a portal that will allow not just one, but all demons out from their world and into ours.” His deep, rough voice was grave. “There are more demons than there are humans. So, that goblet falling into the wrong hands could be a very bad thing for all of us.”
I sat there and let his words sink in. More demons than humans. I couldn’t imagine what that looked like. Don had told me it was a demon who killed Danny. If there was a demon for every person, they could wipe out mankind from existence.
“Who would want to do that? It has to be someone in headquarters, right?”
Don shrugged his limp shoulders. His eyes were half closed. “Most likely. It’s almost impossible to break into this place.”
There was a traitor in the Chamber of Darkness. That still didn’t explain why I had the dream, though. How was all of it connected to me? What did I have to do with any of it?
I opened my mouth to ask Don the questions that clouded my head, but stopped. He lay slumped in the chair with his mouth hanging slightly open and his head rested on his shoulder. The mentor meeting was over and I had more questions than answers.
As I stood up to leave, I stopped and stared down at the man who had opened my eyes to this world and brought me one step closer to my revenge. I knelt down and moved his arm over my shoulder. It was a struggle, but I got him to stand up. His weight was enormous and my knees almost buckled as I walked him across the room. With a hard shove, he fell onto the bed. His eyes never opened.
“Good night, Don,” I whispered and kissed him on the forehead.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I hovered over him. His slow, heavy breathing triggered something inside me. It reminded me of the last time I tucked Danny in and kissed him good night—the last time I ever saw my son alive.
I straightened up and wiped my face with the back of my hands. Pitying myself wouldn’t get me anywhere. It wouldn’t get me my revenge. And I had to have my revenge.
The redcapS
Broken Angel (Book 1 in the Chronicles of a Supernatural Huntsman series) Page 21