by Becca Blake
When I peeked under my shirt, I found the brand Raxael left on my skin. No longer invisible, it was now seared into my flesh, thick edges and swirls that looked almost like a tribal tattoo.
It was another thing to ask Ed about, if we found a way to get his help.
Despite the pain I was in, I refused to ask the others for help. They needed the rest much more than I did. So, I pushed myself through it and gathered wood from old furniture upstairs.
Before starting the pyre, I checked Maki’s pockets for weapons or money. Now that we were cut off from Haygrove’s resources, we would need whatever we could get.
His long trench coat had an absurd number of pockets, and it took time to empty all of them. By the time I was done, I ended up with a few hundred dollars, some bullets that may or may not have been enchanted, and a small first aid kit with healing herbs.
Not that those would do much good for any of our injuries now, since Celia and Orion’s wounds were both infernal, but I wasn’t sure when we would have another chance to get more.
As I pulled away from Maki’s body, my hand brushed against something else in his trench coat, right up against his chest. I thought I’d found all his pockets, but as I pulled it aside, I noticed a torn seam along the edge. Inside the hidden pocket, I found a small journal, thin enough that I could have easily missed it and burnt it along with everything else.
I flipped through the pages, which were all filled with his elegant script. There were pages and pages of notes about Raxael, but very little about the other demon lords. There were only two other names listed, though I was sure Orion had said there were five of them.
Zoaznar and Tzezuzal.
Once we finished recovering, we’d have to get to work researching them. If Raxael could be killed, so could they.
I continued flipping and found a page with Carolyn Collins written in dark ink. There were notes about my mother’s death—starting with the story I’d been told dozens of times about how she died at the hands of demons. Below that, there were more notes about Marcus Thorne and the Council.
About how they found my mother guilty of using dark magic and executed her in the field.
A year ago, I would have never believed this.
I turned the page and saw my father’s name, though there were only two words beneath it:
STILL ALIVE
The rest of the notebook was empty. My heart raced as I stuffed it in my pocket. Maki had been right about everything so far. Was it so crazy to believe he was right about this?
“What’s going on?” Orion asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just cleaning out Maki’s pockets.”
We’d just been through hell, and we all needed rest. There would be plenty of time to talk about Maki’s notes later.
“Anything useful?”
“Some cash.”
“Yeah, that’ll help.” He looked down at the pyre I prepared with an unreadable expression.
“Do you want to say a few words?” I asked.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
I lit a match and tossed it onto the pyre. The flames spread slowly, creeping up the wood before setting the body alight.
Orion cleared his throat and recited the funeral rites.
He didn’t have it in life, but I hoped that Jay Maki found peace in whatever afterlife he found himself in.
***
The hospital wanted to keep Celia and Orion for a week to recover. The doctors asked too many questions about how they’d gotten their injuries, and they didn’t seem satisfied by our insistence that we’d been involved in a car crash.
They’d never seen anything like those wounds, and we didn’t have any good answers for them.
Ayla suggested we stay at her apartment while we waited, but since the Arbiters now knew where she lived, we found a nearby hotel room instead. It almost felt like old times, when we would travel across the country together on hunts. Just the two of us against whatever demons we encountered.
It was a sad reminder that things would never be that simple again.
Over the course of the week, Ayla began to recover from whatever sickness had taken her, but her magic didn’t return. By the weekend, my magic was back to normal, though as far as I could tell, I no longer had any of the emerald’s power. Whether or not the amulet would ever work again was a question for Ed, but without returning to Haygrove, we had no way to ask him.
The orb was another question we couldn’t answer on our own. We’d been keeping it wrapped up in Orion’s jacket, buried in the trunk of Celia’s SUV, but the trance it had put me in back in the church still terrified me. We needed to learn how to destroy it.
If we even could.
So far, the Arbiters hadn’t found us, but it was just a matter of time. We were Oathbreakers now, and as soon as they realized we were still alive, they would send hunters after us. We would spend the rest of our lives on the run.
I wondered if they’d heard of Raxael’s death yet.
Part of me wanted to call Jacob to tell him what had happened, to beg for him to leave Haygrove and join us, but I wasn’t that desperate. And even if I was, I wouldn’t let him know it.
On the day Celia and Orion were set to be discharged, I sat on my bed in the hotel room. Ayla sat across from me, chugging another energy drink while she read a book.
I had no idea how those damned things hadn’t killed her yet.
This was exactly the way I always remembered her. I still found it hard to believe sometimes that she was still alive.
“You don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to, you know,” I said.
Ayla rolled her eyes. “So you’ve said. About a hundred times this week.”
“I know. I just don’t want you to feel like we’re forcing you to stay.”
“No one can force me to do anything.” She set her book down on the nightstand. Crossing her legs, she turned to face me. “I really respect what you’re doing. And I’m amazed you actually, you know, did it.”
“So am I.”
“But,” she said, drawing out the word, “there are four more of them. We know nothing about the others, so we have a lot of research to do. I can’t in good conscience leave that job to you and Orion, so you’re stuck with me.”
“No more faked deaths?” I asked.
“Promise.” She moved her finger above her chest, crossing her heart.
“Good.”
“You’re not going to like what I say next, though.”
My smile fell away, and a sense of dread pooled in my stomach. “What is it?”
“The others don’t want to, but we’re going to have to go back,” she said.
“There’s no way we can do that.” I stood up and paced across the hotel room.
“We need help from the alchemist. You know it as well as I do.”
“We can’t exactly walk right into Haygrove and sit down for a chat,” I said.
Ayla leaned back against the headboard and considered that. “Maybe we can.”
“What?”
“How many hunters in Haygrove would be disgusted by what the Council has been doing? How many would react like you did?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” I’d wondered the same thing myself, but I still didn’t have an answer.
“I’d be willing to guess there are a lot.”
“So we just stroll into town and tell them what happened?”
She nodded. “That’s the idea.”
“That’s insane.”
Though, was it really any crazier than anything else that had happened to us recently? A demon lord tore through Haygrove and burned buildings to the ground. I still didn’t know how many people had been killed in that attack.
If hunters knew the Council had been working with the demon who did that, would t
hey still stick around?
Would I, if I hadn’t been involved in all of this myself?
It was hard to say, but I hoped not.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Back to Haygrove it is.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
It was late afternoon by the time we arrived in Haygrove. Celia slowed the car as we approached an unfamiliar security checkpoint at the edge of town. They had erected new fencing on either side of the road, and a gate now blocked the only entrance.
“What’s all this?” I asked.
“They’re controlling who goes in and out of town,” she said. “We told everyone this was for their safety, in case there was another demon attack. As if this would have done anything to stop Raxael.”
A heavily armed guard dressed in full tactical gear stepped out in front of Celia’s SUV, gesturing for her to roll down the window.
“Hi, Mike,” she said, flashing a smile.
The rest of us slouched down in the back, hiding behind the front seats and tinted windows.
“Councilwoman,” he said. “You’re back.”
“You sound surprised to see me,” she said.
“We were told you and your team didn’t make it,” Mike said. “I thought you were dead. There was a huge service and everything.”
“Well, they were mistaken. Here I am.”
“Should I call ahead and let the rest of the Council know you’re coming?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Celia said. “I’d love to surprise them.”
Not bothering to check the car, Mike waved for the others to open the gate and let us through.
“I guess they haven’t gotten the memo that you’re on the shit list,” Orion said.
“Or they have, and they’re calling Marcus now to warn him,” she said. “I guess we’ll see.”
“I still think this is a terrible idea,” he muttered.
As we drove through the wreckage, the streets that usually bustled with activity were eerily silent. It had been over a week since Raxael’s attack, and it looked like little had been done to begin the work of cleaning up the town.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“After the attack, the Council put a strict curfew in place. They aren’t letting anyone out right now without a damn good reason,” Celia said. “Those who lost their homes are being sheltered in the training center.”
“What about hunts?” Ayla asked.
“Suspended. We recalled all the hunters in the field so we—” Celia’s voice hitched as she caught herself. “Or, rather, so the Council can regroup and figure out what to do next. Last I heard, they don’t even know how many we lost.”
“If this is going to work, we need people in the streets to hear what we have to say,” Orion said.
“So, let’s get them out here.” Celia pulled the car over on the side of the road and grabbed her phone from the dashboard. “If they haven’t locked me out of the system yet, I should be able to send out an emergency alert for everyone to report to the Courtyard.”
As we waited on the side of the street, a few people cracked open their doors or pushed aside curtains to peer out at us, but no one came outside.
A few minutes later, Celia grinned and set the phone down. “It’s done. Looks like they didn’t bother removing me yet, since I’m supposed to be dead and all.”
“That should cause some chaos, at least,” Orion said.
“We still have to find Dr. Moran,” I said. No matter how many people we convinced to join us, our return to Haygrove would be a failure if we didn’t find the alchemist, or if he refused to help.
“We can stop by the lab on our way to the Courtyard,” Celia said.
We continued through town and made our way to Market Street, which seemed to have been hit the hardest by the attack. I knew it shouldn’t, after everything we’d learned, but seeing Haygrove like this broke my heart. This was my childhood home, and so much of it had been destroyed. Raxael and his hounds had leveled most of the familiar buildings down the main stretch.
The alchemy lab was one of the few still standing. Aside from the blown-out windows of the greenhouse, the building seemed fine.
As Celia navigated down Market Street, people poured out from the side streets, all heading to the Courtyard.
After parking in front of the lab, she slammed on the horn repeatedly until the front door opened, and Ed appeared.
He approached the SUV, his brow furrowed in confusion, but his eyes lit up as soon as Celia rolled down her window. “Councilwoman! How did the new injection work out? Did it stop the dark magic users you were after?”
Before she could answer, I swung open my door and stepped out.
“Ms. Collins!” He clapped his hands together. “What a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you back here. What about your enchantment? Did it work? I need all the details.”
“Kind of,” I said.
His face fell. “Kind of?”
“It needed more juice.”
“Ah,” he groaned, smacking his forehead. “A sacrifice. I should have realized that would be the case, given the gem’s nature.”
I nodded. “But once we powered it up, it worked great.”
“Excellent!” He leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “And Raxael?”
“Dead,” I said.
“Really?” The alchemist’s eyes widened, and he looked to Celia for confirmation.
“It’s true,” she said.
“That’s why we’re here. We’ve got something for you to look at.” I gestured for him to follow me around back.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I promise it’s worth your while.” When I opened the trunk, I pulled Orion’s leather jacket aside, careful not to touch. With the orb exposed, the whispers in my head returned. This time, I was prepared for them, and I shook them away.
“Incredible.” He reached out for it, and I smacked his hand.
“This is what’s left of Raxael.”
“I need to study this,” he said, his voice high with excitement. “This could change everything about my work and our knowledge of demons.”
I covered it back up with the jacket. “If you want to study it, you’ll have to leave Haygrove with us. We can’t stay here.”
“Leave Haygrove?” He looked over his shoulder at his lab. For once, he seemed to be at a loss for words.
I closed the trunk. “Well?”
“Alright. I’ll need time to pack my things.”
“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Orion called out from the back seat.
“Fifteen minutes? That’s not—”
“Fourteen minutes and thirty seconds,” Orion said.
Ed scurried back into his lab without another word.
Once the door closed behind him, Celia pulled away from the alchemy lab. Market Street was crowded with people now, as those who got her emergency message made their way to the Courtyard. She drove slowly, honking so they would move aside and let us through.
We parked at the center of the Courtyard and waited for the crowd to grow. So many of them had burns and other injuries from the attack on Haygrove. These were the people who lost everything in the fires, the ones who had nowhere else to stay.
And they were the lucky ones, the ones who made it out alive.
In nearly every face, I saw a mixture of fear and determination. In nearly every hand, I saw a weapon. They must have thought Celia’s emergency alert was a warning of another attack.
They were here to fight. Demons caught them off guard last time; they wouldn’t let it happen again.
As I leaned against the side of the car, my hand drifted to my weapons. If the people of Haygrove decided we were the threat, we wouldn’t make it out alive.
We didn’t have to wait long before
the Council of Shadows, led by Marcus Thorne, emerged from the training center. At his side stood Jacob, who had traded his casual hunter gear for a more formal dress shirt and slacks to fit in with the rest of the Council.
It might have been a good look for him, if he hadn’t earned it by stabbing us in the back.
He looked around the crowd, frowning as he searched for… something. I wasn’t sure what.
Whatever he was looking for, his eyes found mine, and his face went deathly pale.
Like he’d seen a ghost.
I did my best to ignore him as I climbed on top of Celia’s SUV. She, Orion and Ayla stood below me. The wind whistled through the quiet town, whipping my hair around my face. Though I’d run through everything I wanted to say on the drive to Haygrove, all the words escaped me now, and I found myself at a loss.
I had done some stupid things in my life, but this had to be at the top of the list. How had I expected this to go, really? I’d say my piece, and the entire town would turn on the Council?
“Riley Collins,” Marcus called out, breaking the silence first. “With Alexander Orion, Ayla Silver, and our former councilwoman. I thought you were all dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I yelled back.
“I’m surprised you would return here after breaking your oaths. I assume you haven’t come to stand trial for your crimes?”
The crowd parted to let the Council through, until we were standing less than twenty feet from each other.
“I thought everyone should know the truth about what happened to Haygrove the night the hellhounds attacked,” I said, though this time I directed my shouting to everyone else in the Courtyard.
They were the ones who needed to hear what I had to say.
“Everyone knows the truth,” Marcus said. “A powerful demon attacked our town and declared war on us. You were there that day—at least, before you turned your back on us and ran away.”
At that, Jacob looked up at me. He’d been avoiding my gaze for the entire conversation so far, and I flushed at the sudden eye contact.