Face the Dark (Hunters of the Dark #3)

by Dave Ferraro

  ***

  “Did you have any luck researching the dream demon thing?” Jordan asked Shanna before taking a sip of his Red Bull.

  They were on their way to Brooklyn, via a few different vehicles, Amelia leading the way in Cameron’s vehicle with Valor and Hunter. He’d been disappointed that he wouldn’t be riding with Shanna after he volunteered to drive, but Shanna felt relieved in a way. He’d seemed very intense lately, and things felt much lighter without him in the car. Maybe she was imagining things and it was her problem, trying to deal with his scar. But for some reason, there just seemed to be a chasm opening up between them, and it seemed less like a physical thing and more like something to do with their mental states.

  Shanna sighed. “No, not really.” She stifled a yawn as she opened a Red Bull herself. They had a cooler full of them, to help her and Rachel stay awake since they’d gotten so little sleep last night. But she was really starting to crash. She wondered how long she could go with no sleep.

  “But I feel like we’re missing something here,” Rachel said, tapping the steering wheel with her fingers and glancing at Shanna through the rear view mirror, before returning her eyes to the road. “Doesn’t it seem like a coincidence that all of these things are after us all at once?”

  Jade scoffed from the passenger seat. “Yeah, we were having a dry spell for a while. Everything just sort of exploded around here: the werewolves, the dream demon, Cameron’s whole…deal.” She sent a look back at Shanna to see if she’d offended her, then looked away.

  “Say,” Rachel frowned. “Does anyone know anything about Morpheus? The god of dreams?”

  “You think the dream demon is a god?” Jade scoffed.

  “I didn’t say that,” Rachel glared back at her. “I was just wondering.”

  Shanna sat up straight. “Hypnos is actually the Greek god of dreams. Morpheus is his son, bringer of dreams.”

  Blinking, Rachel nodded slowly. “That’s right. You have the whole…mythology knowledge.” She sent Shanna a knowing look, and Shanna sat back, turning a little red. Rachel knew about Diana’s knowledge of mythology being passed onto her, along with her resemblance, but only Hunter and Natalia knew besides them, and she preferred that it stayed that way.

  “Cameron’s been moody,” Rachel changed the subject, relieving Shanna of her anxiety for a moment, until she realized that the new subject was just as sensitive. “Maybe he needs to sit this mission out, you know? Maybe even take some time off to…I don’t know, talk to somebody. This can’t be an easy time for him.”

  “They made me talk to somebody,” Jade murmured.

  “They did?” Jordan looked up in surprise.

  Jade shrugged. “At the hospital, some evaluation to give the okay to come back to the mansion. It was fine, just annoying.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Why would I?” Jade challenged.

  Jordan bit his lower lip. “I thought we told each other everything.”

  “Well, now you do, since you came out to her,” Rachel said, running a hand back through her hair. “You guys kind of held each other at a distance before.”

  Jade looked over at her sharply. “Since when did you get good at reading people?”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m observant.”

  “And from what you’ve seen, you think Cameron should talk to somebody?”

  “I think he needs something. He’s distanced himself from everybody lately. I think there’s something going on with him.”

  “Yeah, his scar,” Jordan snorted.

  “No, something…like he’s hiding something from us.” Rachel shrugged and flashed a smile back at Shanna. “But I’m sure it’s just because I’m tired. Don’t take me too seriously.”

  “Believe me, we don’t,” Jade said dryly, earning herself an elbow to the side, which made her squeal.

  “What do you think?” Jordan asked, leaning over to whisper in Shanna’s ear.

  Shanna sent him a smile. “I’m sure he’s fine.” She turned to look out the window and watched the scenery pass by, her thoughts contradicting her words.

  Three hours later, they found themselves walking up the sidewalk to a little art gallery, the windows lighting up the surrounding dark storefronts warmly as laughing couples stepped inside.

  Shanna felt stiff beside Cameron, his arm entwined with hers as they walked. They’d all brought dress clothes with them to change into, and Shanna wore a navy dress that she knew hugged her curves in the right places, but Cameron barely seemed to acknowledge her. It was like his attention was turned inward. She was worried that his distracted mind might get him hurt in the confrontation to come, and made a mental note to watch out for him, should a fight break out. But she was resolved to talk to him once they returned to Lime Bay. He couldn’t just suffer through this trying time alone. He needed to get out what he was feeling, share his fears with his girlfriend, who was more than happy to share his burden.

  But am I really? She wondered, frowning. Or have I been avoiding him too?

  She dismissed her thoughts with a shake of her head and tried to focus on the current situation. Warlock-turned-demon inside. Definitely a pressing concern.

  With a backward glance, Shanna saw Natalia and Quinn walking behind them, the latter sending her a wink before she turned her attention back to the approaching gallery doors.

  “You ready for this?” Cameron whispered under his breath.

  “Of course,” she smiled at him reassuringly as he opened the door for her.

  They were immediately enveloped by the murmur of the crowd, and slipped inside quietly and inconspicuously. They fit right in with their formal wear, Shanna noting that nobody so much as blinked at Cameron’s scar. She was worried that it might draw more attention than they wanted, but it seemed that that wouldn’t be the case here.

  Cameron led her up to where the first painting they caught sight of hung on the pristine white walls, showcasing the art without distraction. It seemed that the gallery wound through several rooms, as a doorway led to another space where Shanna glimpsed walls of art.

  “So far, so good,” Cameron muttered, his hand on her arm a little tighter than before, as if he were anxious. He was looking around the room, and seemed a little twitchy.

  “Act natural,” she ordered him with a smile and a calming voice. “Look at me.”

  Cameron frowned and focused his attention on her until she drew a smile out of him, then she turned to the painting before them, satisfied. “What do you think?”

  Cameron stared at the painting with a grimace.

  Turning to examine the art herself, she found her eyes widening at the horror she found there. A woman on her knees tied to a wooden fence with barbed wire. A full moon overhead was bathed in a red that seemed to overcome the woman as well. A wolf at her feet lay down submissively, but seemed to be eyeing her with hunger in its eyes.

  “I don’t think it’s my style,” Cameron said bluntly as they moved on to the next painting, which was of a boy buried up to his neck in dirt, his body visible to the spectator as it wound through the soil in awful, impossible ways that spoke volumes to the pain on the boy’s face. There was a full moon that bathed him red in this painting as well, with another wolf, this time digging into the ground above where the boy’s feet were buried.

  “It’s…definitely pretty twisted.”

  “Disgusting.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m not surprised, given who painted them though. No hiding that he loves torture.”

  “Torture!” Shanna’s eyes widened as she looked behind her, searching the room for Quinn.

  Cameron’s hand tightened around her arm. “He’ll be fine, Shanna,” he said quietly, looking around them warily.

  “I - I know,” she said, biting her lip. “Oh, there he is.”

  She stepped away from Cameron, barely noticing as his hand dropped from her arm, and
strode anxiously over to Quinn, worried by what she might find on his face.

  “Quinn,” she said softly as she sidled up to him.

  He continued to look up at the painting of the woman tied to the fence, studying it carefully, as if memorizing the brush strokes.

  “Maybe we should go,” she suggested after a minute of silence. “I know that after what you went through-”

  “I’m okay,” Quinn said, turning to regard her for a moment, then grinning as if to drive the point home. “I’m just trying to understand. The guy who did this…”

  “He’s sick, obviously,” Rachel said, stepping up behind them. “I don’t know if you’ve seen many beyond this one, but it’s all mutilated bodies and bondage. And wolves and moons. And…not really well painted, at that.”

  Shanna raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, they’re not,” Rachel said, shrugging. “Doesn’t take a keen eye to note that.” She smiled and walked away from them.

  Quinn smirked at Shanna. “I think I like her.”

  “She grows on you,” Shanna agreed.

  “Like a fungus?”

  “More or less.”

  Chuckling, Quinn gestured about the room. “I like art museums actually. But these people, I don’t understand how they can appreciate this sort of thing. Do they get a rush from the twisted imagery?”

  “Something like that probably.”

  “Because, the pain in the faces of the victims here is dead on. It’s too close for comfort. I saw these expressions on my loved ones while they were mutilated. The eyes…the hopelessness…just wanting to die to end the suffering….it’s not something you just forget.” He turned to her. “Do you know what they did to my m-” He stopped, and put a hand to his mouth, and Shanna could see the effort he put into reeling his emotions back in. Nevertheless, a tear slipped from one of his eyes and he quickly wiped it away casually, before forcing a bright smile to hide his grief. “Anyways, do you go to museums at all?”

  Shanna nodded, trying to look like she didn’t notice his emotional state, even though they both knew that she was all too aware of it. “Yeah, my friend Kelly used to drag me all over the place. I think she thought I was lonely, and wanted to keep me busy, so I was invited to trips with her family and stuff all the time, not to mention all of the places she would bring me.”

  “Were you?”

  Cocking her head, Shanna sent him a questioning look.

  “Lonely?” Quinn pressed.

  Shanna opened and closed her mouth for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I was. She could see through all my bullshit.”

  “Good friends can do that.”

  They smiled at each other for a moment, before Shanna cleared her throat. “So, yeah, I prefer the Impressionists. I’m a big Monet fan, actually.”

  “Really?” Quinn looked surprised. “I would have pegged you for a Contemporary girl.”

  “Well, I’m full of surprises.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” Quinn shrugged. “Well, there are some great museums in New York. Obviously. Maybe we can go check out some Monet if we ever find our demon and his pet werewolves here.”

  “That sounds nice,” Shanna said, frowning as she turned away from Quinn to find that the entire room had gone silent, the murmur of voices suddenly dying on the air all at once.

  Every pair of eyes in the room were trained on the two of them, eyes that were somehow more predatory than Shanna had previously noted. A hint of yellow glowed from the eyes of figures bathed in shadows toward the back of the room

  Quinn smiled tightly. “Was it something I said?”