Hunter, Hunted: a New Adult Fantasy Novel (The Spire Chronicles Book 1)

by Ashley Meira

  The short demon turned to look at his posse before shrugging. “Don’t know anything about that, sorry.”

  “I don’t recognize you,” I said. “What’s your name? Are you new?”

  “I’m Finn. We joined up a bit over two months ago. You’re Morgan, right? Heard you’ve been recovering from some big fight. It’s no surprise you haven’t had time to visit the guards. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You can let us into your barracks so we can look around.”

  Ipos shot me a look but didn’t comment. Maybe he noticed it, too. There was something off about these guys. Most demons tend to be pretty casual – and arrogant – by nature, but they took their honor seriously. These guys were too laissez-faire about the implication that they were thieves. It was possible they weren’t concerned because they were innocent, but something still didn’t feel right.

  Guess my hunter instincts weren’t completely burnt out. Unless I was wrong, then I’ll retire and look into knitting; at least it involved some kind of stabbing.

  “The door’s not locked,” one of the demons in the back called.

  “But we’d be happy to help you look.” Finn smiled. “What are you looking for?”

  “Void powder,” I said.

  “And what’s that look like again?” he asked as we walked back into their glorified man-cave.

  “It’s a black powder that feels cold to the touch. Handle it without gloves and it’ll numb your hand,” Ipos said, looking over the detritus that covered their dining table.

  “I think we’d have noticed that. Right, boys?”

  A guard with a round belly and an English accent spoke up. “There’s nothing here. How do you know it’s us, anyway?”

  I kept my tone casual. “I didn’t say it was you. We’re looking through all the barracks.”

  “You don’t have the authority to do that,” he spat.

  Actually, I’m pretty sure I have the authority to do whatever the hell I want during a murder investigation. I held the words back; there was no point in having two rude people in the same room.

  Ipos and I exchanged looks as my hand drifted back to my gun, my thumb sliding against the safety. There was a titillating charge in the air, the same kind that was present whenever a fight was about to break out. My blood thrummed through my veins. It had been so long since I’d seen any real action.

  Finn’s tone was still easy-going, but this time he gave my weapon more than just a passing glance. “Relax, Griff. Let them do their jobs.”

  Ipos came up behind me and whispered, “How’s your shoulder?”

  “Worst pick-up line ever.”

  “Serves its purpose.”

  It did. He wanted to know if I could handle myself in a fight.

  I peeked over at the group of demons. Our quiet exchange seemed to be putting them on edge, drooping even the upturned corners of Finn’s lips.

  “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

  “Tell you what, Mori: when we’re done with this investigation, I’ll make you feel special for a week straight.”

  I smirked. “Just a week?”

  Ipos pulled away with a smirk of his own and turned to the guards. “This’ll take hours if we stick together. You boys mind showing me upstairs?”

  Two of the guards led him up to the top floors, leaving me with Finn, McGriff the Grumpy Crime Guard, and…some other dude whose name I didn’t catch. This time, my search didn’t take more than a few minutes per floor. If not because I already searched this place, then because there were three very focused stares on my back, and this time, they weren’t on my ass.

  “Any luck?” Finn asked as I finished checking the fireplace on the third floor.

  No. No luck whatsoever. Just like the first time. There had to be something here, though, something that had Griff on edge more than just his bad temper. It was time to get creative. I pulled out a small, empty vial from the inside pocket of my jacket and covertly scooped up some ash from the fireplace.

  “Unless my partner has found anything, I think we’re clear.…”

  I let my words trail off as I paced around the beds, scanning their faces. Come on, one of you has to give it up… There – guard No Name narrowed his eyes as I walked by the bed at the end of the room. I moved to a few other beds, just to make sure, but every time I came near the one at the end, he tensed up. Kneeling so they could only see the top of my head, I pulled the vial out of my sleeve and stood up.

  “Void powder.” I shook the vial. “Whose bed is this?”

  Maybe Lady Cassandra should have invested in some etiquette lessons, because those four words caused all three demons to launch themselves at me.

  I rolled forward, dodging the three of them as I pulled my gun out. I wasn’t a big fan of firearms, but the doctor told me to ease up on the magic for a while. See? I could be a good sport.

  Whipping around, I fired off two shots in their directions. No Name fell to the ground as Finn swung a leg towards me and kicked the gun from my hand. Well, so much for following the doctor’s orders. I ducked and kicked his feet out from under him, rolling to the side to avoid a punch from Griff’s meaty fist. The rotund demon threw another punch at my face, and another, and another, raining down a flurry of blows that had me backtracking out of the room while wondering how someone so big could move so fast. I dropped down, landing ungracefully on my ass, and let my magic flow through me. A sharp spike of ice surged from my hand and straight through Griff’s head.

  There was a crash from the bedroom. I scrambled to my feet and rushed towards the source of the noise. Blue curtains billowed in the wind as I approached the window, pausing to retrieve my gun, the broken glass casting strange shadows through the dark cloth. There was a moment of silence before I jerked my head up, a cracking sound ringing out from above me.

  Looks like Ipos made a social faux pas, too. Oops.

  There were jagged pieces of glass around the perimeter of the window frame. We were on the third floor, but a demon wouldn’t even blink at such a drop. The street below was empty. Only guards used these roads and none of them were out now.

  I let out a grunt at the sudden pressure against my back. Sharp glass tore at my arms and stomach as cold winds buffeted me. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to tuck my head and twist my body so that I hit the street side first. It wasn’t until a burst of pain shot through my shoulder and turned into a heavy burn over my entire side that I realized: magic, dumbass.

  Rolling over to my other side, I tried to push myself up. Seriously, I just finished recovering from a major demonic beat-down, I didn’t need to get forced into another month of bed-rest – I’d probably set the city on fire.

  A thump reached my ears as a pair of boots appeared in front of me. Finn had jumped out the window. I reached for his ankle. He fell to the ground, and I scurried to pin him down. All I got for my efforts was a kick in the face. Blood filled my mouth as my fingers wrapped around something solid. Whatever it was, it stayed in my hand as the demon shoved me and rocketed down the street.

  I pushed myself up, racing after him only to have the world spin and cause me to stumble a few feet later. Great, add a skinned knee and ripped up jeans to the list of things that were ruining an already shitty day. These were my favorite pair, too – Finn was going to suffer.

  The sound of more breaking glass was followed by another thump. It was louder than when Finn had dropped and was followed by another, more muffled thud. Familiar footsteps sounded towards me and a strong arm pulled me up by my good side. I turned to see one of the guards lying in a pile of glass. Hurts doesn’t it, douchebag?

  “I trust you took care of the other two?” Ipos kept a steadying arm on my shoulder, which I was grateful for – the world looked like it had melted together to form an ugly red mess.

  “I took them down, but they’re not dead. Though Griff will probably have a headache with that ice shard in his head,” I said before letting out
a pained groan from having, well, moved. “Finn got the drop on me. He’s in the wind.”

  “Shard makes it sound cute. I’m guessing I’ll go up there to find a giant chunk through his eye.”

  “Semantics.” Holy crap it was hard to breath. I blamed the large piece of glass sticking out of my bellybutton. “Get this shit out of me.”

  “Now there’s a sentence I’ve never heard you say.” This time, Ipos spared me the charming smirk and got straight to business, ripping the glass out of me with one quick yank. I’d like to say I let out a manly grunt of pain, but it was more like a mewling whine. He patted me on the head and said, “Give me two minutes to deal with the survivors, then I’ll take you home.”

  I didn’t bother to watch him saunter away. Instead, I was focused on the ring I’d pulled off Finn.

  5

  Rowan’s voice was dry and thoroughly unimpressed. “Trying to start a new career as a porcupine?”

  “Bite me, you mangy feline,” I spat as Ipos stepped into my living room with me dangling in his arms like a Ring reject. The thought of joining the circus as the world’s pointiest, surliest woman had a certain appeal to it, if only because it meant nobody would be pushing me out of windows.

  Lily rushed over to me, wincing as she took in the sight of the glass shards embedded in me. In this case, it was quality over quantity, and it was hard to be happy that I wouldn’t be spending hours plucking tiny pieces of glass out of my body when all I saw and felt – really, really felt – were the giant chunks of glass poking at my innards.

  “Should I get your healing potions?” Lily’s grimace was so deep I was worried it would crack her face in half.

  Alex shook his head as he came to survey the damage. “It won’t do any good until we get all the glass out.”

  “It’s a shame they aren’t metal; we could just get a giant magnet.” Great, even being sarcastic hurt. These shards needed to be removed now. What kind of life would I live if I couldn’t be a snarky bitch?

  Lily’s hands hovered around as she tried to find some way to help. “What happened?”

  “My guess would be a guard, in the guard tower, with gravity,” Rowan said coolly. She couldn’t hide the concern in her big green eyes, though. Yeah, you think I haven’t noticed how soft you’ve gotten in your old age? I’m onto you, grandma.

  “Suspicious demons, fighting, window,” I said in one quick and painful breath. My body was already beginning to heal around the shards of glass, which felt as pleasant as it sounded.

  “So, basically what I just said.”

  “I’m having you de-clawed.”

  “I’ll jump on you and shove those shards in deeper.”

  “Hag.”

  “Brat.”

  “What happened to the demons?” Lily asked Ipos. She was so used to the two of us bickering that it was background noise to her.

  “Three are dead, one is with my attaché waiting for the icicle that was shoved through his eye to melt–”

  “It won’t,” I mumbled, pouting like a child. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  “–and one got away.”

  “But not before I ripped this off him.” I held up the ring. It was expertly crafted in pure gold with ornate patterns inlaid by precious stones that led up to a large ruby.

  “That’s not something you buy on a guard’s salary,” Alex said as understanding dawned in his striking blue eyes. Good to know he was more than just a pretty face. A very pretty face.

  Things like these aren’t something hunters tend buy, they’re usually a form of payment. We trade off rare and/or expensive items that we discover on hunts in exchange for services or information. Most people in our world are fine with trades, and it saved money for more “human” things. I mean, a bartender is happy with a twenty-buck bribe, and a motel owner would rather have cash than an ancient magical scroll, but a witch would be more than happy to accept such a thing for an amulet of protection or some dirt on the local coven.

  “We can discuss this more after you stop looking like a reject from Jackass,” said Rowan. “Campbell, go pluck her while Ipos fills me on what happened.”

  It was a dark day when cats started ruling over people.

  I wish I could say this was the first time I’d ever been in a bathtub, slumped over in pain wearing nothing but my bra and underwear, while watching as my blood painted a vivid tableau against the pristine white porcelain. Actually, if I was going to wish for anything right now, it’d be to not have glass sticking out of me. And a unicorn. A rainbow unicorn.

  The feeling of my skin knitting back together around the shards impaling me was a sensation I would never get used to. It was a constant ebb and flow – the skin closed up tight around the shards before the glass tore it open again like a thousand paper cuts opening up at once. Having the power to regenerate was a double-edged sword.

  “Y’know,” I said, trying to keep my tone conversational, “if someone told me this morning that some guy would come around accusing me of murder, the woman who raised me would be killed, and that I’d end up in my bathtub with said accuser plucking glass out of me as if I were a chicken, then… Well, I have no freakin’ idea.” I closed my eyes, listening to Alex chuckle. He better not shake while pulling those shards out or I’ll… Forget it, I’m too tired to think of anything. Bitch meter depleted, please insert coffee, booze, and painkillers.

  “So, what did happen?”

  “Nothing more than what I said. We couldn’t find any traces of void powder, so we decided to leave. That’s when we ran into the guards. They were shifty and eventually they attacked. There really isn’t anything else. Aren’t you done yet?”

  “It’s kind of hard when your skin keeps tightening around the glass I’m trying to pull out. I’ve seen that kind of regeneration with vampires and demons, but not from magic users.” His tone was conversational, but I didn’t miss the unasked question.

  Humans – hunters or otherwise – and witches didn’t have regenerative abilities like this. They had tonics and the occasional rarer-than-God artifacts – though those always came with a dark and heavy price to pay – that can boost the rate their bodies heal at, but they don’t automatically regenerate. Angels, demons, and a few other supernaturals could do that, but I wasn’t any of those.

  “It’s funny,” I said, “bruises never seem to heal up. Neither do hickeys.”

  “I was careful not to leave any marks earlier today.”

  Smirking, and finally glass free, I rolled over to face him. I hooked a finger around the collar of his sweater and pulled it down to reveal the mark I had left on him, his snow white skin making the hickey even more prominent. “I wasn’t.”

  “I’m sure you were very careful to leave marks,” he said, the grin on his face telling me he had no problem with that whatsoever.

  I held a finger up. “Just the one.”

  “Oh, there’s more than one.”

  My finger fell. “One on your neck.”

  He reached over for a bottle I recognized as the whiskey I kept around for emergencies. It was the fifth I’d opened in the last month and was more than half empty; I’d been a bit lax on what constituted as an emergency. Not that it really mattered, since sobriety wasn’t a requirement for being stuck on leave.

  Seriously, Lady Cassandra knew all my physical injuries would’ve healed within a few days, but she still forced – I refused to say “grounded” – me to stay in Haven for a few months. The only lasting injury I had was the one on my shoulder that left the scar, but I guess that was enough to worry her. It worried me, too, but you didn’t see me forcing myself to stay at home. Grumble, grumble.

  Based on the apologetic look on his face, though, Alex was probably leaning more toward the original reason I kept that bottle around. That is, pouring it into holes that shouldn’t exist to prevent them from growing into disgusting, pus-filled monstrosities.

  My body spasmed and I let out a hiss as he poured the caramel colored liqui
d over my wounds without warning. Drinking was definitely the better use for that shit. It felt like being stabbed by an industrial drill set on max, almost making me wish I was falling out another window instead.

  “A warning would’ve been nice,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “It wouldn’t have hurt any less.”

  “No, but I’d like you more.”

  “Enough to tell me about your regeneration ability?”

  Damn it. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

  He arched a brow. “You’ve seen mine.”

  “Well, if I’ve seen yours, then–”

  “Morgan,” he demanded.

  Unfortunately for him, demands didn’t work on me. If there was anything I hated, it was people acting like they were entitled to anything from me.

  “We fucked – that doesn’t mean I owe you my life story.”

  Alex’s jaw clenched, and I began to regret making that declaration while in such a vulnerable position. Never be a douche when all you have on is your underwear.

  I sighed. “Fine. Sorry. Whatever.”

  “Yeah, you sound sorry.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I can’t help you if you aren’t straight with me.”

  “I haven’t lied to you at all,” I said, lying to him. Again. “I don’t know, okay? The healing thing is just something I do. It’s been happening since I was a kid. Special gifts aren’t so uncommon among hunters. Going through the Rite sometimes gave hunters gifts. Just think of it as something like that. For all I know, it’s some weird magical thing I inherited from my mother.” I wanted to add that I didn’t need or want his help, but that would just be petty.

  In addition to a rigorous training regimen, the Council requires all hunters to undergo the Rite of Ascension. Suffice it to say, it’s dangerous and not everyone succeeds, but those who do come out of it more powerful than ever – sometimes with a special gift. Enhanced speed, mind reading, and a plethora of other abnormalities have been reported.