by Ilana Waters
Don’t panic. Nocifari may be a demon hunter, but you’re a supernatural. Surely you can defeat her.
“You shouldn’t joke so much.” Nocifari took several strips of black cloth from her belt and wrapped them around her hands like a boxer. “Let’s just get this over with. I’ve killed plenty of demon hosts in my time.”
I grinned. “Ah, but mortals, I gather. Never a mage. And if you think I’m going to be your supernatural punching bag, my dear, you’ve got another think coming.” I stared hard into her eyes, willing her to be calm. To forget who I was, or why she was after me. To turn around, leave this place, and never return.
But she just stared back equally hard, tightening the wraps on her hands. I increased the strength of the spell, sending more waves of magic to her mind. It didn’t work.
Dammit. I really didn’t want to kill Nocifari. I only wanted her to go away. I tried another don’t-look spell, then an invisibility spell, but her gaze never wavered. It was clear she could still see me. And that she wasn’t going anywhere.
What the sodding hell is wrong with my magic?
She pulled something else out of her belt. It was a thin metal instrument, no bigger than the length of her hand. It rather looked like a tire pressure gauge, with a round button on the top. She poised her thumb over the button, then pressed it. Instantly, there was a hideous shrieking noise like the one I heard on my way to the cafe. I cried out, covering my ears and gritting my teeth. But as before, the sound cut off almost as soon as it began.
“It was you!” I gasped. “You, in the street, making that noise. Just what do you think you’re doing?” Admittedly, the question was somewhat rhetorical. Surely, Nocifari was trying to make my head explode with that thing.
“Using my dynastructor.” She flipped the piece of metal around and back into her belt. “Only consultants can have it, and only supernaturals can hear it. As long as they’re within a certain radius, it interferes with the frequency of their powers.”
“I thought the PIA wasn’t allowed to do magic.” I rubbed one of my ears, which was still ringing painfully.
“This isn’t magic. It’s science. The dynastructor blocks the brain waves you’re using to control energy.”
So that’s how she found me. In addition to her tracking capabilities, my don’t-look spell didn’t work. I wonder how far this radius goes, and if these effects are permanent.
“Pity, then.” I squared my shoulders and shook out my hands. “Looks like we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.” I ran at Nocifari and swung for her head. She leaned backwards and my swing missed. I tried several more, and she avoided each hit the same way. Then she spun around, landed a kick to my stomach, and tried to punch me in the face. I punched her in the chest first, and was about to land my second blow as she staggered back. But she turned the stagger into an aerial cartwheel. It ended with her heel catching me in the jaw, hard enough to break it.
Damn, she’s good. I rubbed my chin and various other places, not bothering to see if they’d healed this time. Even with the military-grade training Titus had given me, Nocifari was not easily bested. She was clearly a skilled assassin in her own right. We’d moved toward the back of the building by now; it was hard to see with the street lamps so far away. Too bad I couldn’t make any magic light.
As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, I glimpsed Nocifari a short distance away. She was on her feet and ready to keep fighting. I snatched one of the crossbow bolts from the ground and came at her. The floorboards creaked and wobbled beneath me, while Nocifari just stood there, waiting.
Why doesn’t she grab another weapon from her belt? But the demon hunter wasn’t doing anything, not even raising her fists. She can’t have given up already.
I hated to take down such a defenseless opponent, but I had no choice. I tightened my grip on the bolt and held it before me like a knife. Just as I was about to reach her, Nocifari lifted her knee and brought one of her boots down. The board she hit cracked and gave way under me, as did several others. Suddenly, there was nothing but air below, and panic seized me as I tumbled to the ground.
I couldn’t use air magic to break my fall, so I came down as hard as a mortal. Fortunately, we supernaturals are made of stronger stuff, or I would have cracked my head and broken my spine. Then there were my healing abilities, which somehow seemed to have survived the dynastructor. As Nocifari leaped down silently, I was already getting to my feet, though with the wind knocked out of me.
“How much trouble can he be?” Titus said. “He’s only a mortal.” I gritted my teeth. I wished he was here to see this.
“You are dying tonight, whether you like it or not.” Plaster and glass crunched under Nocifari’s boots as she walked forward. The nearly empty room only amplified the sound. “I refuse to let anyone else suffer at Oblivion’s hands.” For the first time, there was a hint of pain in her voice.
“How did you know my demon’s Oblivion?” I sucked air into my lungs and tried to think of my next move. “We—I only found out myself recently.”
“Demons send out very specific signals when they come across. The more experienced among us can easily identify them.” Nocifari’s voice hardened. “Especially if we’ve seen them before.” She had to be talking about the demon flare.
“Suffer at his hands . . . so you know his plans are pretty bad. I’m guessing this isn’t the first time Oblivion’s tried to pull a taking-over-the-world stunt.”
We moved in a slow circle around one another. Nocifari cracked her knuckles. Did I mention how much I hate that sound? We were closer to the front of the building now, where the street lamps made it easier to see. Nocifari stared at my face, then looked perplexed. She must have been wondering why I didn’t look worse. She’d hit me hard and often enough to rearrange several features. She knew the dynastructor should’ve hampered my healing abilities.
“Most demons aren’t ambitious enough to want to decimate humanity,” she said warily, still circling. “They tend to cause more minor chaos, relatively speaking. For instance, the evil ones torture and kill only a few people. Not a whole—how do you say it? A planet full?”
“But don’t you have any qualms about killing innocent people? Even if they are possessed by demons?” Light and shadow played on Nocifari’s face as she moved in and out of the street lamps’ path, the same way it did with mine.
Nocifari snorted. “You are hardly innocent. You’re the evil mage who infiltrated the PIA, destroyed part of the building, and kidnapped one of our most esteemed members.”
“Riiight. To you lot, I’m still the bad guy.”
“And I’m most certainly willing to sacrifice someone if it means more people will be saved. People like my family, who were not so fortunate.”
Uh-oh. This was exactly what Philip had warned me about. Vendettas that were perfectly understandable. And perfectly deadly.
“Your family was killed by demons?” I asked softly.
“Not just any demon.” She glared at me. I’d never seen such hate-filled eyes. “Your demon. Oblivion.”
Oh dear.
“But how? As you said, he only just made himself known in this world recently.” Then I had a thought so unsettling I stopped in my tracks. Unless Oblivion made me do terrible things before, without my knowledge.
“They were killed by vampires. What other creatures contain a piece of Oblivion?”
“I was only able to come in partway, place a sliver of myself in men’s hearts . . .” Of course. We already knew that Oblivion was partly responsible for the existence of vampires.
“Am I to presume you killed the original offenders, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy your rage?” The words were colder than I’d have liked. But although I did sympathize with Nocifari, it didn’t mean I could let her subtract me from the sum of existence.
“The individual vampires are inconsequential.” She stopped circling me and placed her hands on her hips. “If it weren’t for Oblivion, none of t
his would have happened—to me or anyone else. I kill you, he goes back to whatever hell he came from, and the world is saved. Simple.”
“But it won’t stop vampires from existing, or making more of themselves,” I said. “And what if killing me doesn’t stop Oblivion? What if it just leaves him exposed, out in the open? Or able to jump into another host?”
“That hasn’t happened with any of the other demons thus far,” she said. “So I’ll take my chances.” Then she ran at me and flipped over my body, using my shoulders as a springboard. By the time I turned around, she’d kicked me in the chest and sent me sprawling backwards. I hit a door frame with wires hanging over it. While I groped at a nearby windowpane to regain my balance, Nocifari pulled a pair of brass knuckles from her belt. They glinted in the light as she marched toward me. She was going in for the kill again, this time to beat me to death.
Enough of this. She’s making a fool of us. We have better things to do.
A powerful feeling came over me, as if I no longer saw Nocifari as a worthy opponent. Now, she was just an irritating little woman who was wasting my time. I let her take a swing at me, ducking so that her fist hit the door frame. She let out an angry grunt when it got momentarily lodged in the wood. As she struggled to pull her hand out, I reached up and wrapped one of the dangling wires around her throat. I enjoyed the gurgling sounds she made as she clawed fruitlessly at her neck, the panicked thrashing as I pulled her body against mine.
But it was over too soon. Nocifari managed to extract her fist from the door frame. With the brass knuckles, she smashed the window next to us and broke off a shard of glass. I guess those gloves and wraps were thicker than they looked, because she didn’t even cut her hand. She reached behind her and stabbed me in the stomach. I let out an angry snarl and let go of the wire. Nocifari was sputtering and coughing, clutching her throat. I ripped the glass shard out of my body, howling from the pain.
I could already tell the wound was deep and serious. Quickly, I took out my handkerchief and went to staunch the bleeding. But when I pulled up my shirt, I saw the cut stitching itself together, as if someone was zippering it from the inside. Then it was a thin red line on my skin, and then nothing. Not even a scar. As if I’d never been hurt at all.
The corners of my lips lifted into a smile, but it quickly faded. This was far past a mage’s healing abilities, no matter how much witch blood he had in him. And if the dynastructor interfered with my powers, there was no way this should be happening. Unless . . .
It’s a gift, Joshua. Enjoy it. Or at least say “thank you.”
Oblivion. The increased healing must mean I was melding with him faster than ever. I suddenly got a feeling like insects crawling all over my skin. That was why my stomach was no longer sore from various punches over the last few days. Why my black eye wasn’t as bad as I expected. Why I’d recovered from my injuries so quickly during this fight, even with Nocifari’s dynastructor. It hadn’t been my magic at all.
Oh, don’t be so modest, Joshua. You’ve still got plenty of ability. Let’s put it to good use, shall we?
In one swift motion that didn’t feel like my own, I swept part of a broken ceiling beam off the floor. It was heavy and sturdy, and had jagged edges. Perfect for doing the maximum amount of harm to a person.
“Take me out to the baaall game,” I trilled, sauntering over to Nocifari. She put her fists in the air, ready to attack, but I easily hit her in the shoulder before she could throw a punch. She cried out and clutched her arm, unable to prevent a whack to her other shoulder.
“Take me out to the crooowd . . .” It didn’t feel like my arms and legs moving, or my voice calling into the air. I was an automaton powered by remote control, a puppet held up with strings. I kept singing as Nocifari ducked and swerved, trying to avoid another blow. But it was no trouble at all to smack her in the kneecap. She screamed and dropped to the floor, clutching her leg and trying to crawl away.
Stop! Please! I begged Oblivion. I don’t want to do this.
Of course you do. She was trying to kill you, wasn’t she?
Yes, but she’s incapacitated now. That’s good enough. Just let her go. But Oblivion would have none of it.
“Hey batta batta batta swing batta batta batta!” I sang as I kept bringing the beam down towards her. She always managed to roll away just in time, but it was growing harder for me. Her eyes were wide with fear, her breaths coming in short, shallow fits.
I heard heavy footsteps running on the pavement outside. They stopped abruptly in front of the office building. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a chair jammed against the front door, no doubt done by Nocifari when she came in to prevent me from leaving. Now, someone was fruitlessly turning the knob from the outside. When it wouldn’t budge, they started banging on the door, trying to break it down.
Company’s coming. Time to finish this.
A few seconds later, two things happened simultaneously. Philip burst through the door, saw what was going on, and screamed “No!” And I took one last swing at Nocifari.
Unfortunately, the sound of Philip’s voice diverted my attention. It was only for a moment, but it gave Nocifari enough time to roll over as the beam came down. It swiped the side of her head and slammed into the floor. It was a strong blow, and drew blood. Nocifari’s face twisted in agony while I wrestled with Oblivion in my mind.
Please, stop! I begged. That could have taken her head off.
That was rather the point, fool.
I won’t let you do this!
You think I’m giving you a choice? That’s adorable.
“Gabriella!” Philip rushed towards her. Oblivion made me pick up the beam and hold it over my shoulder, ready to strike again, this time at Philip. But he saw me coming, and punched me in the face so hard I lost my balance and fell backwards. The beam sailed out of my hands, and with it, I felt some of Oblivion’s influence leave me.
“Gabriella, we have to go now.” Philip helped Nocifari to her feet and put her arm around his shoulder.
“You’re . . . you’re . . .” she said in English, grimacing in pain.
“Philip Grant. From the e-mails. Come with me. We need to get out of here.” With surprising speed, he helped her towards the door.
Why is Philip here? I struggled to my feet, putting one hand to my face. It was already partially healed from Philip’s punch. How did he know where we were?
“I’m sorry. It’s not me.” I wanted to say more, but couldn’t without blowing Philip’s cover. I looked at him, almost pleading. “You know it’s not me.”
“Stay away from us, you evil piece of filth!” he shouted, and called me all sorts of other names. It was probably an act put on for Nocifari’s benefit, but I wasn’t entirely sure.
“I . . . I can still take him,” Nocifari gasped. “We’re so close. Philip, I can . . . can finish him.”
“Are you mad?” Philip asked. “You’re gravely wounded, in no condition to fight. And you know demons better than anyone; you can see he’s not even at his full powers yet.”
Not yet, but we soon will be. And when we are, your petty, magic-thieving devices will do nothing to stop us.
“You’ll have another chance to defeat him,” Philip said. Nocifari moaned with the effort it took to walk, but Philip kept her on her feet. “Retreat, and live to fight another day.”
Yes, we’ll let you go now. We can play with you more later.
I held out my hands as if I didn’t quite know what to do with them. “Phil—Mr. Grant, I . . .”
“Just get out of here,” Philip growled, still pulling Nocifari away. “Get out of here while you still can.” I doubted he was telling me to leave before he hurt me. More likely, he meant I should go before Oblivion made me do something we’d all regret.
Chapter 13
I got back to the Hassler as quickly as I could, praying Oblivion didn’t cause World War III before I arrived. The sun had just set as I managed to make myself i
nvisible and sneak into my room. Yes, you can imagine my relief when I realized I could do magic again. Whenever one’s powers wane, there’s always the terrifying feeling they will never return. I must finally have been far enough out of that blasted dynastructor’s radius.
My father was likely just getting up, and had no idea I’d been gone. Abigail might have been awake for a few hours, or she might be getting up as well. I shut the window behind me and listened closely for sounds from the other rooms. Silence. They were probably still asleep. I leaned on the windowpane and exhaled.
“There you are!” boomed Titus. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?”
I whirled around to see my father at the door. Abigail stood in front of him, hands on her hips. I groaned.
“Is he back yet?” I heard a familiar voice call from the living room.
“Arthur?” I looked at my parents. “What’s he doing here?”
“He got a call from Philip saying something big had happened, and that he should meet us here,” Abigail said crisply. “Philip said he’d be along shortly as well.” She and Titus marched over to me. I could see that her limp and the cuts on her face were gone. The bruise around Titus’s eye was absent as well, and he seemed heartier. He must have healed from the effects of the electrocution.
“But never mind what he’s doing here,” Abigail continued. “Where on earth have you been? I was just about to do a locater spell. And your clothes . . .” I looked down. My suit was ripped in several places; the rest was covered in plaster and dust.
“I can explain, but first, I need to get out of this outfit. And shower.”
“No,” said Titus. “You will explain now.”
“Darling, please.” Abigail held up her hand. Then she turned to me. “Fine. You can shower. In the meantime, I’ll make you some dinner.”
“No, Mom. Please, don’t. I’m really not hungry.” Abigail looked at me like I’d just told her I hated eating. “I’ll explain that in a bit as well.”
“Are you sure, honey?” Her voice was gentler than before. “You don’t look so good.” I massaged my temples. I could feel the bones beneath them more than usual.