Heart Blade: Blade Hunt Chronicles Book One

by Juliana Spink Mills

  “Oh. Well, I didn’t bring backup, if that’s what you think. Look, I’m in just as much trouble as you are. I need to solve this quickly and quietly, and the less my pack gets involved, the better. Are we clear on that?” She had her hands on her hips, and she cocked her head to one side to look up at him.

  There must have been something reassuringly disarming about her stance, or her words, because he nodded, visibly relaxing. “Fine. We’re clear.” He hesitated. “Well, come on in.”

  The front hallway led to an open-plan living space, with living room on one side and dining room on the other, separated from the kitchen by an island. It was very tidy. She didn’t know what she’d expected from Deacon, but certainly not this display of domesticity.

  Deacon gestured at the table. “Please, sit,” he said. The frown lines were back, and she could tell it was killing him to be polite to a demon in his own home. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Water would be nice,” she replied, just as politely.

  He fetched her the water and sat across from her. There was a heavy silence. Camille broke it first.

  “This is going to be weird enough without awkward pauses. I propose we just get down to business. Why don’t you go over everything that happened?”

  Deacon began to tell her about yesterday. How, after the parley, he’d driven around talking to members of his Chapter until he finally found one who knew something.

  “An apprentice,” he said guardedly. His discretion made sense. Sentinels had blood ties to each other. Whoever the apprentice was, they were bound to be a relative. The apprentice told Deacon that his son, Ash, had granted Adeline Sanctuary.

  “Sanctuary? Really?”

  “Apparently the demon requested it, and my son accepted.” He could probably sense the question why hovering at her lips, because he plowed on. “My son seems to have been under the misapprehension that he was protecting our family somehow by granting her Sanctuary and keeping this from me.” He grimaced.

  Again there was a sense of things left untold. There were evidently other issues at play. But then, Camille guessed that Deacon wasn’t the easiest of parents. There were bound to be issues.

  “Right,” she said briskly, steering things away from the personal and back to business. “So this is what we have so far. On Wednesday, Adeline is put on a bus to Boston, at the request of her Liege. She gets out in Hartford of her own volition, and all alone. She disappears, and is found by your son. They can’t have had prior contact, since Adeline has been kept sheltered since her Gifting.”

  She leaned forward in a confidential manner. “By the way, I haven’t been informed of the reason for Adeline’s escape, but since it may help with finding her, I’ll share my suspicions. She’s still an innocent. She has yet to make her first kill and pledge to the pack. It’s unusual for a new half-demon to go this long without pledging. I’m not sure how she’s managed to put it off this long, but I’m almost certain that she was summoned to Boston to set this matter right.”

  Deacon narrowed his eyes. “Huh. That might explain why my son decided to help her. He— well, let’s just say that Ash doesn’t agree with some of the Covenant laws. Most of them, really.”

  She didn’t blame the kid. The Covenant’s laws were what had led to his mother’s death. She didn’t say that out loud, of course, she just nodded sympathetically. “I can understand that. I wouldn’t mind changing a few laws myself.”

  “Really?”

  She’d surprised him again, she could tell. “For one, I think that demons should be allowed the choice to go packless, independent, like most other preternaturals. But we’re digressing. You don’t really want to hear me go on about the Covenant. Okay, so where were we?”

  “Ash,” he prompted. “My son found Adeline somehow and offered her Sanctuary. By the way, I know what she’s looking for. My son has been asking questions about the Guild of Saint Peter. He told my other apprentice that Adeline was planning on going to Toronto. I’m guessing it’s to search for the Guild.”

  “Oh, no. She can’t be allowed to reach the Guild.” She thought fast. “Toronto shouldn’t be a problem. For a start, they can’t even cross the border unless they have proper ID. Like passports. But okay, say they’re really devious and they find a way to sneak across the border. Even so, the city is covered. We have pack members there already, looking for someone else.”

  Deacon raised his eyebrows. “Another runaway demon?”

  Camille evaded, knowing he would sense a straight-out lie. “Something like that. My point is, I’ll call it in and set them also looking for Adeline and Ash. Do you have a photo of him I can send? Don’t look at me like that — you want him found, right? I’ll make sure the details of our non-aggression pact are known and that my pack knows they’re not to harm him in any way.” She began to unpack her laptop as Deacon finished his story.

  “Anyway, I went over to Adeline’s hideout to confront her and take her to the bus station. She gave me the slip.” There it was again, the tightening of the mouth, except in annoyance this time. The Scion’s face was easy to read.

  “I discovered that my son took a truck belonging to the sentinels. It’s all guesswork at this point, but since he hasn’t returned he can only be with her. And he left this.” He pointed at a cell phone at the end of the table. “I think that’s a clear message that he doesn’t want to be found.”

  “Your Wi-Fi password? Oh, and did he take anything of his that might mean he was planning to be away a while?”

  “Emily,” he answered quietly. “That’s the password. And yes, he took a bag. Clothes, some food too. Definitely not planning on returning immediately.”

  He emailed her a photo of Ash from his phone. “James Asher Deacon,” she read. “That’s his full name? He looks like you.” She fired off an email to Jude, who handled all pack communications, requesting that Adeline and Ash be put on the Toronto watch list.

  “I’ve copied you in the email,” she said. “So you can see I’m being honest with you. If the pack finds Ash, he won’t be harmed.” She drummed her fingers on the table, thinking. “I think the first thing we need to do is follow the camera trail and see what direction they took. Let me make a call.”

  She rang Jude. “Hey, Camille here. I need some more traffic links.”

  “I’m busy, Camille.” Jude sounded annoyed. “I’m not your personal assistant, you know?”

  “I know you’re busy, but this is important. Please? I need yesterday’s feeds, from…” Time? she mouthed at Deacon. He wrote “5:30 PM” on a notepad and turned it around so she could see. “…from around 5:30 PM until night. All routes out of Hartford.”

  There was a resigned sigh from the phone. “Give me a few minutes. Oh, Camille? I heard there are witches out looking for Adeline, too. My source says they’re working for Baroness Reis. I’m guessing they want her for Court leverage. Our Liege may have finally pushed the Baroness a little too far.”

  “Shit!” Witches? And since when did Jude have sources? “Okay, Jude. Thanks for the heads-up.” She put her cell phone down. “I’ll have the camera links soon, and then we can get started. We may have a problem, though.”

  She told Deacon what Jude had said, and he thumped the table, making her jump. “If the witches get to them first, my son could end up as collateral damage. I want your personal word that you’ll do what you can to protect him, Miss Darkwing.”

  “Call me Camille, please. My personal word? And what’s in it for me?”

  “The gratitude of the New England Chapter? Money? What do you want?”

  She watched him for a moment, trying to remember how much weight he pulled in Court. Then she said, “Fine.” She crossed her arms. “But I don’t want money, or gratitude. I have enough investments of my own, and thanks are a cheap commodity. No, what I want is your personal word that you’ll back me at Court.”

  “At Court? Why?”

  “I plan to make Covenant history.” She gave him a smug smile. “It
’s time to make some changes to those dusty old laws. I want to leave Shade’s Hunt and be officially recognized as packless and independent.”

  He took his time answering. “All right,” he said at last. “I’ll back you. But you know it won’t be easy. You’re talking about at least a millennium of tradition and laws. And of course the final decision is the Court’s. I can’t do anything about that.” He extended a hand.

  “Of course,” she echoed, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

  Her email lit up. Jude had sent the links. She opened up a browser window as Deacon joined her on her side of the table, pulling up a chair. “This is going to be a long job,” she warned him. “And a boring one too. You know what this means, right?”

  He shook his head.

  Camille grinned. “It means we’ll need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

  “I can make coffee,” answered Deacon, as a flash of amusement softened his features for an instant.

  She met his eyes, still smiling. “Well then, we’re in business.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Del

  Del sat on the cabin’s deck with a tattered paperback novel she’d found inside. Ash was out running along the hiking trail that dipped down along the river and then wound its way along the property line, and every now and then she’d catch a glimpse of him as he looped past and started over.

  Eventually he returned, hot and sweaty. He pulled off his shirt to wipe his face, and the tiny gold cross he wore around his neck glinted in the sunshine. Then he dropped to the decking to start on a series of stretches.

  He caught her eye. “You’re staring.”

  Her cheeks burned. She turned back to her book but kept losing her place. Finally she put it down, giving up the attempt. At least he’d put his shirt on again.

  “Ash? Stop being all energetic for a while. We should make some plans.”

  “I’m not being ‘energetic’. I’m training. Some of us need to train. Some of us aren’t born with it. Reborn. Whatever. Don’t you need to train at all?”

  “Diana made me train. When I lived with her.” She noticed the hardening of his face and remembered too late that Diana had led the pack to his mother. There it was again, an undercurrent of grief so strong she had to fight herself for control. She looked down at the book on the table. “I don’t intend to train again. Ever. I’m done with swords and violence.”

  He dropped into the other chair at the rusted patio table. “So she taught you how to fight with a sword? Your… sister?” She noticed he couldn’t bring himself to say Diana’s name.

  “Yes, but I’m still a beginner. She said she was preparing me for my soul blade.”

  “Soul blade. So you don’t have one yet?”

  “No. Only if I pledge. You know what they are? Soul blades?”

  “I’ve seen them before.” Again the neutral tone and the careful hardening of his features, as though he was building a wall to hide behind. But the underlying sorrow gave him away. Of course he’d seen soul blades. In the shop, the night his mother died. “They’re not real swords, though,” he said. “They’re constructs, right? Like the Heart Blade?”

  “Heart Blade? What’s that?”

  “You haven’t heard of the Blade Hunt Chronicles?” He looked surprised. “I thought all preternatural kids grew up on that stuff.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t a preternatural kid,” she answered, a little huffily.

  “Oh. Sorry. I used to love the Blade Hunt stories when I was small.” He smiled at some far-off memory. “They even have e-book versions now. Well, there are four books in the Chronicles, one for each of the legendary swords. The Heart Blade, the Star Blade, the King’s Blade, and the Night Blade, also known as the Thief’s Blade. This isn’t a sentinel secret, by the way,” he added in a hurry, as though she might think he was giving away too much. “Anyone can read them.”

  “Okay. Four blades. Got it. But what do they do?”

  “They’re all supposed to have individual powers. But together, they can light the way to a new era of peace between humans and preternaturals. Or they can…” He mimed an airplane falling, colliding with the table, exploding. “Crash and burn the whole world. Rip everything apart, usher in the end of all things as we know it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I don’t know.” He grinned. “Probably not. But the swords are real. Three of them are, anyway. Forged of steel, catalogued, witnessed. And then lost. No one knows where they are. The fourth sword is a construct, like your demon soul blade.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “Okay, okay. Not your soul blade. I didn’t mean that. I get it, Del.” He pointed at her scarred arm. “I get it, I really do. Anyway, the Heart is a construct. Someone’s supposed to draw it in times of great need and great sacrifice, and it’s supposed to lead the way for the others. The Chronicles say that when the Heart Blade emerges it will gather all the swords in the same time and place.”

  “And you believe that?”

  “Why not?” He was completely serious. “Like I said, the other three blades have documented appearances. And demons have swords that are constructs. Why shouldn’t the Heart Blade exist? I have the blood of angels, Del. After I swear my oaths, I’ll be able to call upon the blessing of the Archangel himself. You’re an immortal seventeen-year-old who will never grow any older. Who are we to question the myth?”

  “You have a point.” She looked up at him, suddenly shy. “Sixteen.”

  “What?”

  “I’m an immortal sixteen-year-old. I was sixteen when I… well, you know. It’ll be a year tomorrow.”

  “Your birthday.”

  “Of sorts. Not a good reason to celebrate, but yeah, I suppose I’d be seventeen by now if I were still human.”

  “I’m seventeen,” he said softly. His hand was on the table, playing with the book she’d left there. Her hand lay nearby. The space between them burned like fire, and she wanted to reach out and touch his fingers. She didn’t.

  Ash moved away first, clasping his hands behind his head and stretching his legs out sideways. He tilted his head back so the sun shone on his face. His copper hair was penny-bright and gleaming. “So,” he said, eyes still closed. “Plans. Today’s Monday. I need to get you on your way by tomorrow. I need to be back in Hartford tomorrow night. I have finals on Wednesday.”

  “Won’t your dad be angry?”

  “Furious,” he replied without opening his eyes. “I actually have no idea of how much trouble I’m in. It’s so deep and so wide I’ve lost sight of the shore.”

  “It’s not a joke, Ash!” she said crossly.

  He opened his eyes and straightened, dropping his arms. “I know. But things will be worse if I miss my finals. Anyway, I think we should call Jordan.”

  “What? Are you nuts? Your cousin is the last person on Earth we should trust right now!”

  “No, listen. We can’t call my dad. Obviously. But I can make Jordan talk. He loves to brag. I won’t give anything away. As soon as I know what my dad’s up to, we’ll know if it’s safe for you to leave for Canada. It’s worth a try, right?”

  Del considered his idea. “I suppose it can’t hurt. And maybe I should call Diana. I’ll see what I can fish from her. But I don’t have a phone.”

  “Neither do I. We’ll drive to the nearest large town and find a pay phone. We could do with some groceries, too.”

  She laughed. “Do pay phones even exist nowadays?”

  He grinned a little sheepishly. “I don’t actually know. I think places like train stations still have them. The bus station in Hartford does. I’m sure we’ll find one.”

  Ash went inside to change his shirt and then they took the truck, bumping their way up the track to the road. Del looked back at the cabin as it disappeared around a bend, wishing for a moment that she didn’t have to do anything sensible, that she could just hide away in the green woods forever.

  They found a large, anonymous-looking super
market — one of those big chain stores — and bought groceries with Ash’s debit card. “It’s my own money,” he said a little defensively. “Not my dad’s. I earned it. Apprenticeship wages.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll pay you back one day, I promise.”

  The checkout lady said she thought the gas station next door might have a pay phone. But the one they found was broken and dusty. No one had used it in a very long time. Ash pushed open the door to the gas station’s convenience store to ask.

  “The pay phone?” said the skinny young guy at the counter. “Hasn’t worked in a couple of years. No idea where there’s another one around here. Who even uses a pay phone?”

  Del spotted the guy’s cell phone by the till. “Hey, can we use your phone? It’s for a local call. We’ll pay you for it.”

  He scratched his head. “I guess. But don’t take it outside!”

  “We won’t,” she promised. Instead, they walked over by the freezer section at the end of the store where the counter guy couldn’t overhear. She handed the cell to Ash. “You first.”

  He took a deep breath and tapped in a number. “Jordan? It’s me.”

  Ash beckoned her with his free hand, and Del squeezed in close so she could hear without having to use speakerphone. Ash held the phone between them, their heads touching as he leaned down to be nearer to her height. Jordan was at full steam.

  “—can’t believe you punched me!”

  “Yeah, well, I’m sorry about that,” Ash answered coolly. He mouthed not sorry at Del, and she grinned.

  “Sorry. Right. You’re full of crap, Ash. Anyway, you’re screwed. Your dad’s so pissed. And your stupid-ass idea of going to Toronto? Just try it. My mom says you can’t cross the border without a passport. Go and get yourself arrested, why don’t you?”

  Ash, to his credit, never even blinked. “Is my dad looking for me?”

  “Of course he is,” Jordan snapped. “And he’s got help, too. There’s a demon in town. A little blonde thing.”

  Ash glanced over at Del, a question in his eyes. Del shrugged. She didn’t know any of the demons in the pack.