The Shadow City (The Demon-Born Trilogy Book 2)

by L. C. Hibbett

  “A little sympathy, please! My biological father is probably a monster, my foster mother deserted me, and I have man hands. I’m in a glass cage of emotions—you mustn’t mock me.” I batted my eyelashes and pressed the back of my hand against my forehead.

  Brandon barked with laughter. “I wish I could play the violin for that sorry tale, but my violin is back in parents’ house, in the shrine they’ve set up because I have to let them think I’m dead for their own safety because any Human who pierces the Veil forfeits their life to the High Council. But your story is worse— at least I don’t have man hands.”

  Jasmine’s laughter lifted my heart. For a moment, I was transported to the old village hall in Rosmoney, where the biggest thing we had to worry about was study notes and exams. She fist bumped Brandon and linked her arm through mine. “Hey, how did it go this morning? Cat said you thought there was a significant energy reading on the Silent Home you were checking out, could you not get inside or was the read a mistake?”

  Jasmine was kind enough not to mention that we often came back empty handed. Even when my Seeking skills led us to the right place, the Spirit Eaters always seemed one step ahead. I twisted my face away from her question and covertly checked that the teddy bear was still secured inside my waistband. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  A look of hurt flashed across Brandon’s features. I put my arm around his waist and pinched his side. “Sorry, Brandon. I’m not leaving you out. I’ll fill both of you in on everything in a few minutes. I just need to clear my head, okay?”

  Brandon nodded. “Fair enough, Grace. Do you feel up to coming with us while I give Jasmine the grand tour?”

  I sniffed and raised my chin dramatically. “I think so. I’m a very strong sort of delicate flower. A steel rose perhaps? A precious steel rose, with man hands.”

  Brandon grinned and opened his arms wide with a flourish. “Then we should begin, there’s not a moment to waste! Gracious guest, Ms. Jasmine, welcome to your new abode in the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. This well-appointed property is situated just meters from Table Rock on Grandfather Mountain. While the house was originally erected as a home for Mathas and Lizzie in the 1800s, this new dwelling was built just three years ago to be energy efficient, in keeping with the natural environment, and entirely undetectable by Human eyes.”

  Brandon beckoned us to follow him as he strolled ahead, around the corner of the property. Jasmine and I exchanged an amused glance. He skipped across the immaculate drive and rested his back against the barrier surrounding a sweeping viewing deck. “If you’d care to take a moment, you’ll be able to look across the vast splendor and natural wonder of the North Carolina countryside. Just to our left, you can see the Mile-High Swinging Bridge which Mathas commissioned over sixty years ago.”

  Brandon extended his arm toward the house.  “And if you look to the right of the property, you’ll see the extensive training rooms and facilities that Lizzie and Mathas have installed for the use of the Shadow Children upon the relocation of the Irish cell last year—yes, the Irish cell now resides in the United States of America. Shadow Children logic abounds.”

  Jasmine opened her mouth to defend the organization she loved, but she rolled her eyes and tossed her hands in the air instead. Pretty hard to argue with anyone about some of the decisions the Masters had made lately. Brandon grinned and nodded in the direction of the house. “In the main building, you’ll find a wide array of shared living spaces, an open style industrial sized kitchen, more than twenty fully equipped bedrooms, with baths, as well as a self-contained suite which houses our gracious hosts.”

  He exhaled and flung himself down on one of the rattan chairs that had been bolted to the ground beside the viewing station. He wiggled his eyebrows at Jasmine. “What you reckon? Shadow Children don’t exactly slum it, do they?”

  Jasmine flopped down into the seat opposite him and swiveled herself so that she could appreciate the full scale of the property. She let out a low whistle. “That they don’t. It’s a pretty impressive setup Mathas and Lizzie have here. I suppose having two thousand years’ worth of accrued wealth must help—perk of being a Demon. Jabol showed me the healing rooms they had installed before we arrived, they’re top class, and the doctor Mathas employed has been a leader in his field of neuroscience since before they even called it neuroscience. That’s another cool thing about being a Demon— you can really out-expert the experts when you live forever.”

   I pressed my back against the glass barrier. Even though the temperature was several degrees lower on the top of Grandfather Mountain than it was down at the base, it was still too damn hot for my liking. I pushed my sleeves up to expose my arms to the sun. Brandon caught my eye and tilted his head pointedly, mouthing the words ‘Ask her.’ I grimaced. “So, Jas, how’s Elijah doing?”

  “You know my brother, he’s always been a massive pain in the ass—now he is an ugly pain in the ass.” Jasmine’s attempt at softening the tension fell flat, and her smile died on her lips. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Sorry, gallows humor. He’s the same, pretty much. He doesn’t seem to be in pain, but they can’t break the coma. Jabol’s trying so hard… Can we not talk about this?”

  I squeezed fingers together. “Of course, whatever you want.”

  “Plead the fifth, Jasmine, just know we’re here if you do want to talk, okay?” Brandon gave Jasmine’s knee a firm pat and then turned his focus on me. “Grace, now you can tell us how the mission went. And the reunion with Sulky McDreamy. I didn't think we'd be able to separate you two for at least a week.”

  I threw myself down in one of the remaining free chairs and flopped forward so that my chest pressed against my knees. “Mission was a disaster. We were too late. The entire Silent Home was deserted—no sign of Guardians, no sign of staff, no sign of Peter and Spirit Eaters or their vile Spirit Demon pets.”

  Jasmine leaned forward in her seat. “Somebody knew you were coming? They cleared the place out before you could get there?”

  I tucked my hair behind my ears. “I don’t know. Maybe the Guardians knew we were coming, or maybe the Spirit Eaters just got to the Silent Home first. But it wasn’t like any other time we had gotten to a Home too late, they hadn't just cleared the place.” I scraped at the skin on the back of my hand. “They killed them. All the captives. And the backyard— it was a mess. There was something there. Force, sucking the energy…”

  I stared out at the vast expanse of remote beauty spread below us and shook my head. “There was some sort of presence, and it was feeding off the energy. Dragging it into itself.”

  Jasmine frowned and crushed her fingers between her knees. “Shit. I’m sorry, Grace, that’s horrible.” She shook her head. “It makes no sense. I mean, I know the Guardians were starting to get better prepared for the breaks—between us and the Spirit Eaters, a couple of hundred Silent Homes have been busted open in the past year—but killing all the prisoners? That’s brutal, even by Guardian standards. And the Spirit Eaters want to capture the Demon-Born alive, how would killing the other prisoners help them?”

  “Who knows? Maybe the Angelic Council decided it was safer to kill all the Halfborn, rather than risk them becoming Shadow Children? Protect the Veil at all costs?” I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

  Brandon gestured to my hands. “Grace, what’s that?" I looked down at my hands and realized that I was holding the small stuffed toy that had been tucked inside my waistband.

  Brandon raised an eyebrow, and I cringed. “Okay, don’t freak out, but I think I might have stolen a dead child’s toy." Brandon ran his hand over his freshly shaved head and exhaled. Jasmine gave me a sympathetic grimace. I screwed my eyes shut. �
�I know. I shouldn’t have taken it. It's just that I found it on the ground and it looked like somebody's favorite. I couldn't just leave it there. We were already going to have to abandon the kid somewhere under the dirt..."

  Jasmine slipped out of her chair and squeezed herself against my side. I rested my chin on her soft curls, and she pressed her face into my shoulder. Her words were muffled by my shirt. “I missed you, Gracie.”

  I swallowed to dislodge the pressure in my throat. “Missed you too, Jas.”

  Neither of us made any fake promises that everything was going to be okay. I opened my eyes and caught sight of Lucas sprinting toward us. I clenched my jaw. From the look on his face, things were far from okay.

  Chapter Four

  “The Masters are convening. They want to see you.” Lucas jammed his hands into his pockets and kept his eyes fixed on my face, but I could sense his awareness of Brandon’s presence. Lucas still blamed himself for Brandon having to join the Shadow Children, no matter how many times I told him there was no way we could have avoided the way things fell that night at the London Tower nightclub, and Brandon hadn’t made any effort to ease Lucas’s conscience.

  Lucas hunched his shoulders and twisted his body away from where Brandon was sitting. His face was drawn and pale. "Grace, Emmanuel needs you inside. He wants to talk to you before the Masters arrive. "

  Jasmine’s eyes narrowed. “The Masters are coming here? All of them? That’s against every directive.”

  “That’s all I know, Jas.” Lucas closed his mouth into a firm line.

   Brandon pulled himself to his feet and offered his hands to Jasmine and me. “Are the other Masters all old-school, like Emmanuel? Whenever you guys talk about them, I imagine them like monks from the middle ages. Hoods up, sleeves flowing in the wind.”

  “You know Luc’s mom is the Master of the New York cell, right?” Jasmine grinned as we walked toward the house and I felt my own mouth curling. Pretty, elfin Camille was more likely to be mistaken for a soccer mom than a shrouded medieval monk.

  Brandon shrugged one shoulder. “Yup, I do. I won’t hold it against her, though. The nicest cult leaders can have annoying children.” He didn’t acknowledge Lucas’s crossed arms, but I saw Brandon watching the golden-haired Angel out of the corner of his eye. “Anyway, I’m excited to see the leaders of the Shadow Children all in the same place. I still don’t understand fully how the organization works. This is going to be interesting.”

  Lucas was the first to reach the porch door. He folded his arms tighter over his chest. “Emmanuel only wants to see the Shadow Children that were on active duty this morning. Nobody else can attend the meeting. Sorry.”

  Lucas dropped his eyes to avoid Brandon’s glare. Jasmine squeezed Brandon’s arm. “Hey, you want to come with me to the hospital wing? I know Jabol would love to see what you’re working on in the lab.”

  “Sure.” Brandon’s jaw line was pulled tight. “I’ll come with you. I want to see Eli anyway.”

  Lucas shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Actually, Mathas left a message saying that you were due in the training room now.”

  Brandon narrowed his eyes. “You can tell Mathas, I’ll be down in the training room whenever the hell I’m ready.”

  As he shouldered past Lucas and thundered out of sight, I suddenly realized that Brandon was now heavier and more powerfully built the Lucas, whose frame seemed to have lost every spare ounce of flesh over the past year.

  Jasmine shot us a wave over her shoulder and ran to catch up with Brandon. Lucas exhaled in a low whistle. I squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t take it personally, Luc. He’s angry at the whole world, not just you. It must be hard being the only Human surrounded by

  Demons, Angels, and Halfborn. He hates that he can only use magic through the potions and spells Lizzie makes for him.”

  The automatic door slid open, and Lucas stepped into the vast, glass-fronted foyer. I watched the reflection of his tired eyes in the chrome pillar. “Brandon is worth ten of most people on this side of the Veil, magic user or not, but he wouldn’t listen to me if I tried to tell him.”

  I wanted to comfort him with wise words about friendship and love and forgiveness, but I wasn’t exactly in a position to be offering advice to anyone. I pressed my fingers against his hand, and Lucas wrapped them inside his palm as we walked toward the conference room at the back of the building.

  When Emmanuel told us that the Demons, Mathas and Lizzie, had offered to house the cell, I had expected their North Carolina home to be reminiscent of their period property in Ireland. I had pictured a colonial mansion or a rambling turn of the century farmhouse, but although the property on Grandfather Mountain was every bit as impressive as I had imagined, it was nothing like their other home.

  While Castletown House had smelled of wildflowers and beeswax furniture polish, this building had a sterile, modern finish that reminded me of a luxury hotel. My trainers squealed against the gleaming black marble as we came to a halt outside the conference room. I reached for the door handle, but Lucas nudged me with his elbow and tipped his head further down the corridor to where Sam was leaning against the wall. Lucas raised one fair eyebrow as he let the door close behind him. “Catch you in a few. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kids.”

  I tugged at the end of my shirt, wishing I had looked in the mirror on the way. Sam peeled himself out of the shadows and took a step closer to me. His hair had grown long in the time we were apart, and there were dark smudges under his green eyes. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Sam.” My stomach shivered as one side of his lip twitched, displaying a flash of dimple. He took another step toward me. I felt the static between us beginning to build, but I kept my distance—the memory of too many unanswered messages stinging my pride.

  Sam’s jaw tensed as he met my eye. “Listen, Grace, we need to talk—”

  The words split my chest like an ax chopping wood, and I felt the blood rush to my face as all my daydreams of our perfect reunion shattered into tiny splinters and embedded themselves in my tongue. I cut him short. “No, we really don’t. I got the picture when you stopped answering my calls.”

  The truth in my words smarted. I had known this was coming, I just hadn’t let myself believe it. The back of my throat began to tingle, and I turned on my heel and marched away from him, ignoring Sam’s attempts to grab my arm. The last thing I needed was to listen to a patronizing speech about how we could still be friends.

  I swung the door of the conference room open to reveal the monstrous flat screen monitor and the panoramic windows that formed a backdrop to the huge oval table. If their other home had screamed Lizzie, then this property was all Mathas.

  Emmanuel nodded and waved his hand in the direction of the empty chairs between Lucas and Gabriel. Megan and Cain were seated on the other side of the table, but I saw no sign of Mark. “Lucas and Grace, please sit.” The Master’s eyes darkened and deep creases formed on either side of his mouth. “The others have given me some information about your mission today, and I am very sorry that you had to bear witness to such wickedness. We knew, the senior Shadow Children and I, that a dark time was coming, but I had never imagined the sacrifices we would have to ask of you, children…"

  For a moment, Emmanuel seemed to forget that he was talking to us. He stared down at his hands, and I perched myself awkwardly on the edge of one of the hard-backed chairs. I could feel Sam’s warm gaze running over me like honey, but when I glanced at him, he had already looked away. I pulled my jacket closed over my chest. Lizzie stepped up to Emmanuel’s side and placed a small hand on his elbow. He lifted his chin, with a start. “I attempted to inform the rest of the Masters as soon as I received a debriefing from the team, b
ut before I could share my concerns, one of the other Masters had already requested an audience with as many cell Masters as could be spared.”

  “Why?” Gabriel leaned back in his chair with his legs outstretched and his arms dangling by his side. I might have been fooled by his casual demeanor if wasn’t for the intensity in his voice. “They didn’t give you any indication? I thought having more than three Masters in the one place went against your code in case it ruptured your cell structure, or something equally baffling. Isn’t that why you usually have all your meetings in scheduled combinations of Masters? Or is that just a really cruel math exercise you use to torture some poor Shadow Child—if there are a hundred Masters, and only three can meet at once, how many meetings must there be until each Master has met all the others?”

  Lizzie cut her eyes in Gabriel’s direction and pursed her lips, but if Gabriel spotted her reprimand, he showed no sign of it. Emmanuel leaned his weight on the back of an empty chair. “Not all of the Masters will be in attendance, just those who head the most populace cells. The Master who called the emergency assembly didn’t divulge details, but I do know there has been contact with the London Demons.”

  Gabriel shot forward and placed both palms flat on the table with a slap, all pretense of disinterest abandoned. His eyes burned with rage. Gabriel had paid a blood tithe to be freed from the London Demons, but the fear that the London Demons had been in league with Peter—the Spirit Eater who had fathered my foster mother, destroyed her family, and later infiltrated the Irish cell of the Shadow Children under the guise of Jasmine and Elijah’s long lost uncle—cut deeper than the blade that drew his blood.