Heart Blade: Blade Hunt Chronicles Book One

by Juliana Spink Mills

  Jordan plowed on, his voice loud and angry. “They’re working together, can you believe it? He told my mom in case there was trouble. Your dad and a demon. This is a serious blow to the Chapter’s pride. You’re ruining everything, traitor.”

  A voice called out in the background. “Is that Ash?”

  Ash pressed “end”. “My Aunt Sarah. I can’t talk to her, she’ll see right through my questions.” He shook his head. “Did you know that? About needing a passport to get into Canada?”

  “Obviously not.” She reached for the phone. “My turn.”

  She rang Diana’s cell phone. It went straight to “leave a message after the tone.” She cleared her throat. “Diana? It’s Del.” What should she say? “I just wanted to tell you I’m all right,” she blurted out. “I’m with a friend. I’m safe. I’m not coming back. Forget about me, please?” She was just about to hang up when she said, “I love you,” all in a rush.

  The weird thing was, it was true. Diana was hard and demanding but, under all that, Del knew she cared. Or she wouldn’t have let Del get away with waiting so long to pledge. Del missed her. She missed their sterile rental apartment in Philadelphia, the training sessions at the laser tag arcade, the long, dry lessons on preternatural history made bearable by icy scoops of mint chocolate chip. All that was safe and familiar in this new world of being demon where she had no memories and no compass to steer by.

  They handed back the cell phone and Ash gave the guy ten dollars. Outside, they looked at each other. Del was the first to speak.

  “Well, that was useless. You made sure your cousin hates you, and all we got in exchange was information that your dad is working with a demon.”

  “Yeah, but that’s huge.” Ash looked troubled. “My dad would never work with demons. I need to go home.”

  “I agree.” Del’s stomach clenched at the idea of doing this by herself. But it wasn’t fair to keep Ash any longer. “Let’s get my stuff. I’ll catch the first bus to anywhere. And then I’ll keep on running until Shade loses interest. If I can’t find the Guild, I’ll do the next best thing. I’ll bury myself so deep they’ll never find me.”

  Ash unlocked the truck and they both got in. “I don’t like it,” he said. “But I don’t see what else we can do. I’ll give you all the money I have. Don’t tell me where you’re going. My dad will know if I lie. But I’ll give you my email. Let me know when you get there, wherever there is? Just one line to tell me you’re safe.”

  He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring straight ahead, as though he couldn’t bear to face her. She set a hand on his shoulder.

  “You’ve been wonderful,” she said. “You’ve done more than I could possibly expect.” And then she did something she’d been longing to do. She leaned in and pressed her lips to the curve beneath his cheekbone. His skin was soft, and she shivered at the touch of him.

  As she drew away, he raised a hand to the place where her lips had been. He turned, slowly, and she realized the longing wasn’t hers alone. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers reached for hers.

  And then there was a flash of light and a bang, as if something had knocked into the side of the truck. Ash’s eyes went wide and then fluttered shut as he pitched forward into the steering wheel. Del opened her mouth to scream, but a rough hand pushed through the open window at her side and clamped over her lower face.

  “Easy does it, darlin’,” drawled a voice. There was another bang and Del’s vision filled with light, light that blanked out everything until it faded slowly into black.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Rose

  From her perch on the roof, Rose could see the river glinting through a gap in the trees. The sun beat down, warm on her bare arms. Next to her, Alex stretched out his legs. He was the weirdest monk she’d ever seen. With his shaggy blond hair and broad shoulders, he could have been a surfer, or a snowboarder. A skater boy.

  He was barefoot, like she was, and every inch of his skin was covered in tattoos. As far as she could see, anyway. The tattoos snaked up his arms and under his black t-shirt, rearing out again to circle his neck, and poking out of the frayed ends of his jeans to decorate his feet. Here a burnished wingtip, there the scales of a dragon. Around one wrist, a delicate wreath of branches. No, not branches. Thorns. She dragged her eyes away, suddenly embarrassed, as though she’d spied on something intimate and personal, even though the inked images were out there for all to see.

  “So,” she said. “You’re a vampire. I’m guessing the whole shrivels-up-in-sunlight thing is a myth, like silver for werewolves?”

  Alex squinted up at the sun, smiling. “I like garlic.” He tilted his head toward her and watched her for a while, an uncomplicated, unquestioning gaze that was strangely peaceful. “I can see why you like it up here,” he said. “It’s easy to forget sometimes what we’re fighting for. The right to just be. The right to all of this.”

  He made a broad, sweeping gesture that took in the trees, the bird song, and the nearby river. The sunlight. “It all gets lost sometimes in the politics, Rose. Thanks for reminding me.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what to answer, so she remained in silence, watching him right back. He reached a hand into his back pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. “When we go down, Daniel is going to remove the rest of your wards. But first, I wanted to give you something.” He handed her the envelope.

  Rose opened it. Inside, there was a small, square photograph. A man and a woman, smiling at the camera. She licked her lips, nervous. “Is that…?”

  “Your parents. Yes. Not a very good photo, but the best one I could find at short notice.”

  In the picture, the man had his arm around the woman. She was leaning slightly into him, a finger hooked into the belt loop of his jeans. He had the tumbling, wild hair that Dan had described, the same disheveled curls that greeted her every morning in the mirror. And her mother…

  “She’s beautiful,” Rose said. Her voice sounded weird, all thick and out of shape, and she realized, to her horror, she was going to cry. She swallowed the lump in her throat, willing the tears away. She didn’t want to cry in front of Alex.

  He was also looking at the photo. “Yes, she was. Beautiful, kind, and also ferocious. A warrior. You have her coloring.”

  “I know. Dan told me.”

  He stood up gracefully. “We’ll be waiting. Come down when you’re ready.” And then he was gone, leaving her alone in the sunlight.

  She stared at the photo, drinking in the details. Her mother wasn’t facing the camera directly, she realized. Her sideways smile was for Rose’s dad alone. He faced the cameraman squarely, chest thrown back to claim the moment. Rose wiped her eyes and stared at the trees and the river until the urge to cry faded. Then she got up, tucking the photo carefully into her own back pocket.

  When she climbed down, she found Dan and Alex waiting inside. Dan had drawn a chalk circle on the floor and surrounded it in symbols and what looked like words in Latin. He gestured at the circle.

  “Sit, Rose.”

  She sat on the floor, cross-legged. “What is this? You didn’t need any of this at Finn’s place, when you took off the other wards.”

  “Those were minor wards.” Dan smiled. “It won’t hurt. Don’t worry. But I need your help. The circle is a focus. I need you to feel for it. When you find it, relax your mind and let your consciousness expand until it fills the entire circle.”

  She eyed the circle dubiously. “Are you sure you’re not a witch?”

  He chuckled. “Positive. I’m an exorcist, remember? Now, let’s take down some wards. Are you ready?”

  Rose nodded. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and as she let it out she tried to feel for the circle. To her surprise, it was a clear presence in her thought. She reached out for it with her mind, but it faded.

  “You’re trying too hard,” said Dan, his voice low. “Relax.”

  She breathed deeply, again and again. After a while she felt herself r
elaxing, dissolving, spreading out until only the circle held her back. There was a twanging sensation, as if her mind was a guitar and someone had plucked a string. There was another twang, and a third, and then a ripple that shuddered through her entire body. Her eyes flew open and she gasped.

  “Is it done?” she heard Alex ask softly.

  “It is done,” Dan replied.

  All around her, the cabin shimmered with a soft blue haze. She saw Alex to one side, his red aura tinged purple by the blue. And Dan, with no aura but a certain solidity to him that she’d never noticed before — his comfortable human presence. The haze shrank and dimmed until it clung only to her own self.

  “Blue aura,” she said in a dazed voice.

  “Welcome Rosa Pietrowicz, bloodline of Ana Garcia,” Alex said, his tone formal. “Stand and accept your legacy.”

  She stood, her legs trembling. She was shivering all over, but it wasn’t fear, or exhaustion. Her face felt hot. “My skin is prickling,” she whispered. “As if it wants to be something else.” And then she shook herself all over and shifted.

  It was the strangest feeling. Her clothes and skin just melted into something else, bones changing, reforming. She realized she was on all fours, but not on hands and knees. She shook herself again, enjoying the heavy softness of fur. Her teeth clicked shut and she looked at Dan through a wolf’s eyes.

  Alex knelt beside her. He was careful not to touch her, and she was grateful. Her wolf-self still prickled, shivers coursing her body. “Rose? Pay attention. I want you to try and shift back. You need to know you can do it. Form an image of yourself as girl-Rose, not wolf-Rose, and hold it in your mind. Reach for it. Can you do that? Focus.”

  For a moment she couldn’t think over the overwhelming input she was getting from all her senses. Her smell, her hearing; it was all so much more. Her eyesight was different too, keener in some ways, more limited in others. She forced herself to breathe through it all, and then got distracted by her panting gulps.

  “Focus, Rose,” said Alex again.

  She pushed past all that she could see and hear and smell, and thought of Rose-as-girl. Seventeen-year-old Rose in torn black jeans and a sleeveless top. The image formed in her mind, shadowy at first and then clearer. She reached for it, as Alex had told her to, and then there was no more wolf, only her shivering self curled up in a ball on the hard floorboards.

  She sat up carefully, swaying as a wave of nausea and dizziness hit her hard. Alex reached forward and pushed her head between her knees. “Breathe,” he said.

  So she did, over and over until her head cleared and her stomach settled. When she straightened up, Dan silently handed her a glass of water, and she drank it in big, thirsty gulps. She wiped her mouth. “Thanks. That was really odd.”

  She was still shivering. Alex smiled as he handed her a blanket. “You did it! First shift. It’s meant to be a tough one, you know? Or so I’ve been told. And you did it beautifully. Now you know your way back, it’ll get easier. Reaching for wolf form, or your human shape.” His phone rang and he left to answer it, leaving Dan to pull Rose to her feet and lead her to the bunk.

  “Well done, Rose.” He was smiling too. “Your wolf form is beautiful. I shall photograph you one day so you can see for yourself.”

  Rose bit her lip. “Do I look like her?”

  “Your wolf form? Yes, and no. You have the same coloring, but you’re more powerfully built. You’ll be fast, I bet. I wish you could go outside and try your form in the woods. But you still need guidance, and I’m afraid you might lose yourself to it.”

  Rose remembered the overwhelming sensation of being a wolf, and how hard it had been to find her human form again. It would have been easy to let go and remain in her other shape. She shivered once more, realizing she was covered in cold sweat. She wiped her face on the blanket.

  “That was intense. I think I’m okay with that. You know, waiting?”

  “Good.” He passed her the box of donuts. “Alex brought this for us. Want one?”

  She suddenly realized she was starving. She stuffed one in her mouth, and Alex grinned as he returned to the table.

  “Your godchild shares your taste, Daniel.”

  Rose swallowed her mouthful. The shivers were finally slowing as her body temperature stabilized. “Why do you call him Daniel? It sounds so old-fashioned.”

  “I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy,” Alex joked. For one brief moment Rose saw him in armor, head hidden under a helmet. The visor was up, and he held a glowing red sword. She blinked, and he looked exactly as he had before: black t-shirt, tattoos, and shaggy blond hair.

  Just my imagination, she told herself. She must still be caught up in her transformation to wolf.

  Dan shook his head. “Don’t tease her, Alex.” He turned to Rose. “I’m Daniel to him because that’s what my family called me. It’s how I introduced myself when he first met me. I was ten when I was taken in by the Guild. I mostly got called Danny by the other Guild members, and that changed to Dan when I grew up. But not Alex. He always called me Daniel.”

  “I’m a traditionalist,” said Alex briefly, picking up a donut.

  “No, that’s not it.” Dan frowned, as though trying to put thoughts into words. He was holding a gold rosary clutched hard in one hand, Rose noticed. “It’s more— Alex never trivialized things. He didn’t treat me like a child, even though I was one. Calling me Daniel was a mark of respect.”

  Alex was watching Dan with an odd expression. It took Rose a couple of seconds to recognize it as pride. “You’d been through so much,” he said, his voice gentle. “More than a child should ever go through, more than a grown man could bear. You went through all of that and came out a whole person. The least I could do was show you respect.”

  “What happened? Why was Dan with the Guild?” She knew even as she was asking that it was going to be bad. Her parents, Dan, Alex’s long, long past. It was all interwoven with tragedy and darkness.

  Alex looked at Dan for permission before starting. Her godfather just nodded. “Daniel’s entire family was killed by a renegade bloodborn,” Alex said abruptly. “Murdered in their beds one spring night. Daniel escaped. The vampire hunted him down, following him to an old barn. But the sentinels were on the vampire’s trail for a long string of crimes against the Covenant. They found Daniel just in time.”

  Rose looked at Dan, but he had his head bowed, listening. Alex continued. “The story doesn’t end quite yet. According to Covenant law, Daniel’s life should have been forfeit for witnessing his family’s deaths.”

  “What? That makes no sense!” Rose said, horrified.

  Dan glanced up. His face was calm, but his white-knuckled grip on the rosary betrayed the emotion within. “Rose, remember what I told you in New Haven, when we were escaping those demons? Humans are not allowed to know about preternaturals, or take part in preternatural affairs. It’s brutal, I know. But it’s a law forged a long time ago, in the days of Inquisitions and witch hunts.”

  “It’s a stupid law,” she said angrily.

  “I agree,” said Alex. “But at least this story has an ending that, if not happy, is at least not wholly tragic. A contact of mine in the sentinels tipped me off, and I convinced them to let me have Daniel as a squire. At the very least, he never had to go to Court and stand trial.”

  “Trial.” Rose snorted, still angry. “For being human. And the vampire? I hope he got what he deserved?”

  “She,” said Alex. “And yes. She was formally charged and executed.”

  Rose looked first at one, then the other. “So we’re bound,” she told them. “The three of us. Alex saved Dan, Dan saved me.”

  “Maybe you’ll save me, too, someday, and the circle will close,” said Alex.

  Rose shivered at his words, but told herself it was just the aftereffect of her first were transformation.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ash

  Ash was drifting, noise and light coming and going in the sticky bl
ack that held him. He latched on to the one steady thing, his breathing. He shut everything else out and focused on the pattern: inhale, exhale. After a while his head stopped floating and he became aware of rough concrete under his cheek.

  He kept his eyes shut, feigning sleep, and tried to figure out what was going on. The last thing he remembered was Del, and then a flash and a bang. Wherever he was, it was dark and cool. A basement, perhaps? He was lying on his stomach on a hard surface and there was something metallic around his left wrist.

  There were no obvious noises around, so he risked the smallest peek, eyes opening the barest slit. Nothing moved. He opened his eyes fully.

  It was definitely a basement, one of the partially aboveground sorts with narrow windows along the top of the wall where it met the ceiling. A faint glimmer of daylight trickled in, and he wondered how long he’d been out. Was it still Monday? He tried to roll onto his side and found he couldn’t; the metallic thing he’d felt was handcuffs, chaining him firmly by one hand to a metal pipe in the wall. He got his legs under his body and levered himself up to an awkward kneeling position. The handcuffs were attached to a section of pipe near the floor, so he couldn’t stand. He rattled the cuffs. Useless. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  He gave up on the handcuffs and got his first proper look at his prison. The basement must have been long abandoned. It was empty, apart from scattered trash and a couple of empty packing boxes lying crumpled on their sides. Halfway along one side there were stairs leading up to an open door at the top. The air was dank, chilly. And it was very dusty. Ash tried to stifle a sneeze. He sneezed anyway and bit his tongue.

  “Ouch.”

  “Ash?” It was Del’s voice, barely a whisper. It came from behind his back. He shifted his body and found her, closer than he’d expected.

  “Are you also handcuffed?” he whispered.

  There was an answering rattle of metal. “My right hand,” she said. “When I woke up I was facing away from you. I only realized you were there when I kicked you by mistake. But you were unconscious. And then I think I fell asleep again.” Her voice shook slightly.