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

by Ashley Meira

  The demons were gathered around some hole in the ground, presumably digging for something. It didn’t matter. They killed an innocent family of five, so they had to be put down.

  Red spun around to face us, licking her lips, as we stopped a few feet away. Alex had his gun trained on the third demon, a blonde woman with a ponytail. My hand wrapped around my own gun, but it was more for security than anything. Ghost lights or not, it wasn’t likely I’d be able to get an accurate shot off. Besides, who needed bullets when you could shove an ice spear through someone’s eye?

  Red wore a cocky grin as she held her hands up. “Can’t we all just get along?”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t slaughtered an entire family,” Alex spat. His face was twisted into a grimace, an aura of malice exuding from him.

  Alex had been adopted by a traveling hunter who’d taken down the demon that had killed his entire village – including his parents – so his rage was understandable. I just hoped it wouldn’t cloud his judgment.

  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to turn yourself in?” I asked. I always tried to ask. They always said no. Guess I was just an optimist.

  “And let the Court judge us?” the blond said. She was referring to the Court of Hell, which was basically the fiery, horned version of the Heavenly Host. “Fuck you. The fact that Lucifer is even letting us be condemned for killing a bunch of pathetic–”

  A shot rang out and Blondie reeled back, a hole between her brows. I looked at Alex in amazement. Holy aiming, Batman. However, the bullet only served to enrage her more and she charged at us.

  There was a sharp whistling sound. Pain clawed at my back as I was knocked to the ground. The weight against me vanished less than a second later, and I pulled myself up only to come face to face with a hellhound. It roared at me, the thick threads of saliva dripping down his jaws splattering onto my face like droplets of foul smelling lava.

  I sent out a blast of force at it, knocking the beast away and allowing me to get back onto my feet. My back stung with the burning of a thousand suns, and I could feel blood sliding down my skin from the claw marks that stupid mutt gave me.

  A quick glance to my left showed Alex fighting off that blonde, but I gave up the chance to look closer in favor of ducking out of the way of another hellhound. Backpedaling, I counted five of them; two for each demon if you counted the one Alex had beheaded.

  Despite the fact that he was the one who had taken their brother’s head off, the hellhounds seemed perfectly content to ignore him and circle around me. Their long, pointed teeth, like stiletto daggers in their mouths, were bared as they growled. And people asked why I preferred cats.

  All at once, they leapt at me. I dropped onto one knee and put up a barrier. The pale blue dome thrummed as they dive-bombed against the surface. They roared, pounced, and clawed at the barrier around me in an eerily synchronized dance. I’d have found it almost beautiful if they weren’t trying to kill me.

  What a barrier did was convert any physical damage inflicted upon it – damage that would have maimed the caster had it not been up – into mental damage. The assault was something mages were trained to resist, but everyone had their limits. Summoning up a barrier wasn’t particularly difficult, but maintaining one with five wild beasts hacking away at you was enough to cause the aneurysm of a life time. Still, I’d rather have a killer migraine than actually be killed.

  A girlish cackle pierced through the growls and snapping of teeth, telling me that we wouldn’t have to chase after Red again. Taking a deep breath, I steeled my will and channeled energy along the walls of the barrier. Releasing the breath, I shattered the barrier, forcing the built up energy outwards in a circle around me. A large gust of wind whooshed around me from the release of such heavy force, whipping my curly brown hair into an even bigger bird’s nest than it probably already was.

  A handful of thumps sounded and I stood up, surveying the results. Alex managed to decapitate the male demon; his head rested a few feet away from the excited red-head. Blondie was still keeping him busy, though, looking like she just came out of a Bruce Lee movie with the way she was roundhousing him.

  My magical shrapnel bomb had taken down two dogs, but they could heal up if I didn’t finish them off completely. I pulled up another barrier as one of the other hounds lunged at me. If it came to a strict brawn versus brawn fight, there was no way I could win. As their monstrous forms revealed, hellhounds were more muscle than anything else.

  Even with my magic, there were times when I couldn’t firebomb or ice spear my way through. Like when I was surrounded by a bunch of hellhounds and couldn’t take one out without being devoured by the rest of his pack. An area of effect spell would work, but they were pretty draining and they would hit everything in the designated spot, Alex included.

  The hellhound rebounded off my barrier, and I scrambled off to the side to avoid another leaping attack. They were too damn fast! Forcing myself to think quickly, I waited until one of them crouched into a pouncing position before charging towards Red, rolling off to the side as I reached her. She let out a loud whoop and stepped to side, dodging the hellhound that leapt toward us.

  “Toro! Toro!” she shrieked, her fingertips crackling with electricity. It seemed I was the only witch here who was worried about starting a forest fire. So much for peer pressure.

  I rolled over as she threw a bolt of lightning at me. It hit a tree, filling the air with the smoky scent of burnt wood. The blonde in the back let out a broken choking sound as Alex stabbed her through the chest, the glistening metal of his blade turning a vibrant crimson. He wrenched the weapon out, and in one quick swoop, sliced her head clean off.

  Another excited whoop rang out, and I fell on my ass dodging the remaining demon’s punch. I was vaguely aware of whining from behind me as I kicked Red’s feet out from under her, landing a hit on her for the first time all night. It was a short lived victory. She rolled us over and sat on my torso, raining down a flurry of blows against my face. The first punch hit home and there was a sharp cracking sound as white-hot pain flooded my jaw. I managed to put a barrier up to soak the other hits, but that just made it feel like I was getting punched in the brain instead.

  With the assault on my brain, it was too hard to concentrate on casting another spell. Apparently, I wasn’t as good at finding my Zen as I thought. Maybe I should quit meditating and take up knitting or something. Actually, trying to find a way to overcome my shitty aim was probably a better use of my time.

  Knit hats were so cute, though.

  Wait.

  My aim.

  It was a struggle with my arms pinned underneath the other girl’s legs, but I managed to get a grip on my gun. Damn it, I swear this thing had never been so difficult to un-holster before. With all my efforts turned towards wrangling my gun out, I slipped up and let my barrier fall. Red was more than happy to penalize me by crushing my nose. Blood flooded my mouth, the sickeningly tangy taste sliding over my tongue and down my throat like concentrated bile. I finally got the gun free, angling it as best I could before pulling the trigger.

  Pain pulsed around my wrist as the recoil twisted my limb in an unnatural way, and I gasped at the sensation, choking on blood. The demon squealed, clutching the side of her face as blood slid out from between her fingers. I flipped us over and pressed the barrel of my gun against her forehead. Turning my head away to minimize spatter, I pulled the trigger once, twice, and a third, final time.

  The fresh night air blew against the blood splattered over my face, making me shiver. Silence filtered through the treetops, spreading through the clearing. Not even the quiet hum of insects or rustling of leaves sounded, as if they all died with the demons.

  If they did, they were traitors and deserved to be burned, which would be great because then I could torch these bodies. I stood up, reloading my gun and holstering it before wiping my face… And now there was blood all over my hands. Why did I think that was a good idea?

  Alex was standing
amidst a pile of dead hellhounds. Blood was soaking through his pants, but he looked fine otherwise. Very fine.

  I walked over to him and asked, “Any chance I could get you to drag all these bodies away from the leaves so I can burn them?”

  “Depends.” He shrugged. “What do I get for it?”

  “Me not worrying about them being really dead on the way back.”

  “Relax.” He cupped my cheek, swiping some of the blood away. “I’ve killed plenty of demons like this. You don’t always have to set things on fire.” A grin tugged at his lips as he spoke. “Maybe you should see someone about that.”

  “Oh, please.” I scoffed and grabbed his wrist. “Maybe you should see someone about your fetish for stabbing things into people.”

  “Not things. My sword.”

  “That just reinforces my point. In so many ways.” I stuck my tongue out and immediately grimaced as more blood got on it. Demon blood always tasted so smoky, not to mention that it was bad to consume large amounts of it. Plus, it was just gross. “Can we just finish this up and go home? I want to shower for, like, days. Maybe with company,” I added with a wink, getting blood into my eye. Fuck this.

  “All right.” Alex moved closer, presumably to place a kiss on my forehead, but backed away with a frown. Yeah, good luck finding an unbloodied spot on my face. “Let me just ‘work out my issues’ first.”

  With those words, he walked towards the un-decapitated bodies, twirling his sword around with a bit too much enthusiasm.

  By the time we got back to my place, the blood had dried and was starting to crust in some very uncomfortable places. The house was empty. Lily, Lady Cassandra’s niece and my aforementioned sort-of cousin, had been staying with me ever since she discovered her aunt’s body last month. She was probably still helping out over at the clinic, but I figured she’d be home soon. Lily rarely missed a night of Alex’s cooking.

  Alex still had a room booked at the local inn, but he spent most of his nights with me. It was awkward the first time he offered to come a bit earlier and make dinner, though I forced myself to move past it. Apparently, my stomach was the real decision maker in my life.

  When I became a hunter, I told myself that it would be pointless to get romantically invested in someone, that it was better to stick with casual sexual relationships. This was a dangerous job, after all. It would be selfish of me to get involved with a person and then die, leaving them alone. And getting involved with a hunter? That topped the list of dumb things I could do.

  I didn’t want to be left alone, either.

  “Home sweet home.” I peeled off my ruined jacket. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I definitely do not feel like having sex while caked in blood. Wet blood, maybe. But dried blood? Completely limp.”

  “I think I can let it go just this once,” said Alex.

  Showers were a blessing beyond belief. I took in the soothing heat as I watched the red tinged water slide down the drain until the only color left was the white of the marble beneath my tired feet.

  The familiar feeling of my flesh pulling together tugged at my back. I still didn’t understand how my regeneration abilities worked. I guess I never really bothered to – who cares as long as it saved my life, right? All I’d figured out was that it tended to kick in sooner the graver my injuries were and that it only worked on cuts and breaks. So, getting stabbed, clawed, shot, or breaking any bones and loosing teeth would trigger the regeneration, but punches, bruises, and all that other stuff was up to me.

  Which meant I couldn’t wear earrings and that I was going to be sporting a lovely bruise thanks to that psycho ginger Tinkerbell. At least my nose wasn’t broken, though Alex did have to reset it. He better be baking me a cake for that experience, the brute.

  I practically skipped down the stairs in my oversized t-shirt, the smell of chicken luring me over to the kitchen. Alex was setting the table while wearing that ridiculous “Kiss the Cook” apron Lily had gotten me one year as a joke; there really should be a law against letting me anywhere near a stove. I mean, the only person worse than me in the kitchen was her, and that’s only because I haven’t managed to set anything on fire yet.

  Alex smiled as I stepped into the room. “Lily called – said she’d be late and to save her some leftovers.”

  “Mhm.” I nodded absently, trying not to drool over all the food.

  “Oh, and one more thing.” He came over and wrapped an arm around my waist. His lips pressed against mine, warm and firm, and I melted against him, threading my fingers through his hair.

  There was a goofy, satisfied smile on my face when he pulled away. “Is that all?” I asked. It would have been coy if my stomach hadn’t decided to start growling louder than any of those hellhounds had. “Shut up,” I mumbled against his chest as he laughed.

  I was on my third serving when the phone rang. Alex went to answer it, shooting a concerned look at all the food I’d piled up. Hey, I was small. Small people burned through energy faster.

  I have no idea if that’s true.

  “It’s Rowan,” he said, putting the phone on speaker and placing it on the table.

  Rowan had been one of the greatest hunters in the Order over six hundred years ago. When she got older, she – along with a handful of other accomplished hunters – agreed that, upon their deaths, their souls would be placed in new vessels in order for them to guide future hunters. Sadly, those vessels were limited to a variety of smaller animals such as birds, cats, and so on. I didn’t know the specifics of the ritual. Only the Council did, and they showed no interest in sharing with anyone.

  Now, Rowan was in the body of a fluffy black cat with piercing green eyes. She became my partner when Lady Cassandra decided I would be a good candidate to lead the Maxwell family. In those years, Rowan had become like a second (or third, technically) mother to me, as well as a close friend, so the chance to speak with her again had me grinning from ear to ear.

  Since we prevented the first lock on the Spire from being broken, Rowan had been sequestered with the Council while they sorted through everything that had happened. We used to spend all our waking time together, and now I hadn’t seen her in over a month. Hopefully, this was the call that would tell me she was coming home soon.

  “Rowan,” I crooned.

  “Morgan.” Her husky voice was a sound for sore ears. “Have you been behaving?”

  “Never,” I said. “You know, it still amazes me how you manage to dial with those widdle paws of yours.”

  “Alex, please scratch her for me.”

  “He already scratches all my itches.”

  Alex snorted, then chuckled and shook his head good-naturedly. “Is this a social call, Miss Rowan? Morgan would never admit it, but she misses you dearly.”

  I smacked him in the knee and gave him my best fake stern look. “He is a filthy liar.”

  “You two have plenty in common, then,” she said.

  “…I miss you less now.”

  “I thought you didn’t miss me at all?”

  I pouted, alternating between glaring at Alex and the phone.

  “Anyway,” said Alex, bending down to press a kiss to my forehead, “what can we do for you?”

  Rowan sighed in a way I was still surprised a feline could. “There’s a problem.”

  The severity in her tone had me sitting up straight. Alex and I exchanged looks before I spoke up again, the lightness in my voice gone. “What’s wrong, Rowan? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She paused a moment. “It’s your father.”

  Want to read the rest? Look for Ties that Bind on Amazon at the end of March or sign up for my mailing list (http://eepurl.com/bRPrqf) to find out whenever I publish a new book!

 

 

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