by D. D. Chance
“I did feel something, I guess,” I admitted. “It started with the stupid squirrel.”
He nodded, but it was the kind of nod that you could as easily give to somebody you thought was insane as to someone you were legitimately listening to. A flare of irritation spread through me, but I struggled to remain the bigger person, even if Grim dwarfed me by a hundred pounds.
“A squirrel made a noise. I turned around, and saw it was holding a little silver bead,” I continued.
To my surprise, he glanced my way, lifting one bushy brow. “Lead? A bullet?”
“That’s what I thought at first,” I said, feeling vindicated. “But it wasn’t any kind of bullet, I don’t think. It was just a round bead, about a centimeter wide. I picked it up and walked maybe half a block more, all the way to the park where you found me. And that’s when I started feeling weird. Like there was something dangerous out there in the woods.”
He snorted. “There were about thirty trees total in that park. I wouldn’t call it woods.”
“Really?” I turned around, peering into the distance. The park had seemed a lot denser to me when I’d come up on it. “Maybe…but anyway, I dropped the bead and I felt better, got away from the park, then ran into you.”
Grim grunted but didn’t say anything more, and after a second, I continued. “What? Do you know what that bead was? We could go back—”
“No. Not now,” he said curtly. “It could’ve been nothing. It could’ve been your mind playing tricks on you. That happens, especially when you first get to the academy.”
“Really,” I murmured. I hadn’t thought of that, but it made sense.
“And if it was something important, it’ll find you again,” he said, refocusing my attention. “Silver is one of the most spell-friendly luster metals. It does what you tell it to do.”
I wasn’t gonna lie, that all sounded pretty cool, and at least I didn’t feel quite so nutso anymore. Grim didn’t seem nearly as impressed with my silver-bead story as I expected him to be, though.
“So, finding a silver bead on the sidewalk was no big deal?”
Another shrug. “No more of a big deal than anything else you felt. How you react is the important thing. And you are a monster hunter, or at least monster bait. You have been for a long time. That means you already know you need to trust yourself.”
That was one of the longest lectures Grim had ever delivered, and a legitimate one, which I wasn’t really in the mood to receive from a guy named Grim. Fortunately, he seemed to have used up all his words, and we spent the rest of the walk back to campus in silence. When he diverted away from the campus entrance I was most familiar with, I shot him a look.
“They’re at the Crane,” he said.
I jolted. Had it only been that morning that I’d been at the bar? It felt like far longer. “Why do you guys all like that place?”
“I don’t,” he said, and kept walking.
I rolled my eyes at his back. He wanted to play hard guy, that was all right by me.
A few minutes later, we approached a small collection of bars and cafés right at the edge of Wellington’s campus. “Hey, I noticed this earlier,” I said. “Where’s the wall? Like, this is protected ground, isn’t it?”
He peered at me a little curiously. “Why would you think so?”
“Well, I mean, like the Crane bar. It’s for magic people, or at least magic-adjacent people, right?”
He didn’t answer me directly, but gestured at the nearest storefront.
“They incorporated the wall into the street, the sidewalk,” he said. “Not optimal. There are too many entrances to the campus. Too many ways to break down its defenses. Only the innermost areas of the campus are protected now, the core. Anything with enough time and interest in breaching those outer defenses can get in.”
I frowned. “Who thought that was a good idea?”
“Who knows what people think,” Grim muttered, and I had to smile. I couldn’t argue with him on that.
Tyler looked up as we approached the table inside the White Crane, though I noticed that the woman from this morning wasn’t there. Instead, the heavily paneled dark interior came complete with a tough-looking, leather-clad bartender polishing glasses in the corner, her dark eyes sharp beneath her fall of cherry red hair, while Zach and Liam remained focused on Liam’s tablet.
“Hey! You rock, my man,” Tyler said, pounding Liam on the shoulder as he stood. He drew me close and gave me a quick kiss. I felt the familiar chaos, as well as a sudden, sharp burst of brutal self-control at its edge, and I drew back from my stereo awareness of both Tyler and Zach as Liam started talking.
“All right, I’ll make this fast, because if what I’ve discovered about Zach’s dad is right, we are about to get seriously slammed. Like horde central.”
“Wait a minute.” I narrowed my gaze at him. “You found something out?”
“We did. Right after Dean Robbins’s little one-on-one with us, or one-on-all, thanks to Zach’s mind meld. He flipped it on as soon as he got into his sesh with Robbins.”
“I forgot to mention it to you,” Zach told me, his manner way too cool and businesslike for my jangled nerves. “I meant to tell you to keep your hand on the band while we were with Dean Robbins so you could hear me relay what the others were experiencing. Sorry.”
“It’s no problem,” I replied, all too aware of Grim’s sharper glance at me as Zach and I studiously avoided looking at each other. The big guy needed to stop with the keen-observation thing he had going on. “So, what’s the upshot?”
“The upshot is Dean Robbins is fully aware that Zach’s dad and Frost met up today. He’s also caught wind of a potential monster attack, though he didn’t mention anything about demons in the mix. We managed to continue to appear ignorant, but it’s obvious he didn’t get his information from bugs in the library; otherwise, he would have known far more than he did.”
“How can you be sure?” I pressed. “The administration could have been tracking you all this time without you knowing it.”
“I don’t think so,” Tyler said. “It’s possible, and we shouldn’t underestimate him or whoever is pulling the strings behind closed doors at Wellington, but I think his information is coming from somewhere else. Because he’s not focusing on demons, and I agree with Zach and his dad. I think that’s coming next.”
“But what does that mean, exactly?” I asked. “I mean, that’s fine that we think we’re going to get hit…but how do you defend against an attack that could strike literally anywhere?”
The guys didn’t have an answer to that at first. I started playing with the anti-Zach bracelet on my wrist as we all sat, pressing my fingers over its smooth edge. A soothing, intimate awareness flickered to life deep in my mind. Was that Zach? Could he sense me reaching out to him?
Liam broke in with a sigh. “Honestly? Until we figure out our strategy, we’re going to have to play this really cool, or we risk getting the demonology guys all up in our grill. We don’t want that.”
“So everyone keeps saying,” I countered. “But they’re demonologists. They can’t be that terrible at this, right? That’s their entire purpose in life. Why wouldn’t we want their help?”
Zach took this one. “Ordinarily, we would—even if they’re mostly a bunch of overeager Cub Scouts who chose this major to play at being Buffy the vampire slayer without having to deal with the larger challenges of protecting a congregation. But in this case, we’re not dealing with random demons looking to pick off a soul or two and cause havoc to spit in the face of God. That’s the problem.”
I leaned back in my chair, finally beginning to understand. “Your family demons are different.”
He nodded, but he wasn’t looking at me—or any of us. His gaze was fixed on the far wall. He remained quiet as the bartender approached and set a round of beers on the table, then launched in after she moved away. “My line has always generated hunters, but the family demon problem was hatched during my great-
great-grandfather’s life, around the mid-1800s. He was an itinerant preacher, and he traveled up and down the East Coast trading sermons for food and shelter. He also did healings, weddings, funerals, and the occasional exorcism, and he was always interested in what he called the tools of the trade—crosses, vials of holy water, icons, and medals. Most of it crap, but some of it…” Zach shrugged. “One day, he picked up the wrong trinket, a piece of jewelry that’d been possessed. He could feel the power of it, the strength of the creature within. It tempted him—took over his whole life, really. He wanted to destroy the demon within it for good, not let it potentially be set free by some other, weaker preacher. He was a proud man, but not an idiot. He knew he had to prepare first.”
“He eventually set it free?” Tyler asked when Zach fell silent.
Zach’s lips twisted. “He didn’t. Because things changed with that trinket. He changed. Got stronger, or so he told his trusted confidants. Better at fighting, killing demons. Better at knowing what others were thinking.”
“Spelled,” grunted Grim. “Right into his blood and marrow.”
“Had to be. Anyway, he kept the thing, settled down as a permanent pastor, and started a family. His wife got tired of him staring at a piece of jewelry she suspected was a holdover from his wild youth or a gift from an old girlfriend and threw it in the fire one night. They awoke to the demon erupting into life, and shit got real. The wife threw herself at the demon. My great-great-grandfather stopped her, but this obviously distracted him. The beast killed them both, then escaped. The town went up in flames—most everyone outside the house died, and those that survived were seriously screwed up. Like straight-up insane.”
By now we were all staring at him, even Grim. Liam spoke first. “If everyone…oh. Outside the house.”
Zach nodded, his lips settled into a heavy line. “My great-grandfather Theodore was seven years old. After all the commotion ended, he ran from the house, never breathing a word of what he’d seen. Eventually, he was identified as the preacher’s son, but no one knew the truth of what happened, and he wasn’t about to tell them. Theodore could already read minds, the gift within his father’s curse. Eventually, he grew up, lived a wild life, and was drawn to the family business of demon hunting. He stayed a loner well into his thirties, thinking that would keep him safe. Swore he’d never have kids. Then he fell in love.”
“The demon came back?” Liam asked.
“Him and some friends, yeah. On my great-grandfather’s wedding night. They laid it out plain—if Theodore sacrificed what he loved, the demons would go away. If he tried to kill them, they’d set the whole county on fire. His wife didn’t give him a chance to decide. She sacrificed herself—ran right at the beast, and they all disappeared. Theodore collapsed, was sick for days, but he didn’t die. Nobody died. By the time the neighbors checked on the newlywed couple, Theodore was severely dehydrated and too weak to walk, and they nursed him back to health. No one knew what happened—just assumed his new wife had poisoned him and skipped town. He was so moved by the community’s care of him, and so guilty over his wife’s sacrifice, he agreed to stay on as their permanent pastor.”
“But…” I swallowed. “That’s the end of the line, then. If the demons showed up on their wedding night, that means there were no kids. Which means…”
Zach’s gaze was on his hands. “The next summer, a woman showed up at my great-grandfather’s church with a seven-year-old boy who she claimed was my great-grandfather’s. Theodore was all set to chase them both out of town, when the kid read his mind.”
“Burrrrn,” Liam murmured. “Nature finds a way.”
Zach laughed darkly, then slumped back in his seat. “Yeah, well. When it was my grandfather’s turn, he tried to fight the demons, and an entire town burned again, though at least there were a handful of survivors that time, including my dad. But my granddad was pretty broken. He gave my dad up in an open adoption to the local preacher, vanishing into the shadows after that, with nothing but a letter to explain what lay ahead for Dad, to be opened when he turned fifteen. Dad was raised by the preacher’s family and eventually took over their congregation. He read the letter, of course. He knew the history. He deliberately married a woman he liked well enough, but didn’t love. They married early, and though he’d never shared this part with me, he apparently came up here for a year to learn some skills, visiting home only occasionally before returning in the summer…to find out his wife was pregnant.”
“Oh, no,” I whispered.
Zach’s lips twisted. “Yeah. When the demons came, Dad fought them all through the night while Mom prayed. The church burned to the ground, though no one was in it, thank God. When morning came, the demons were gone. He’d thought he won. And he had—just not the way he’d planned. Mom…”
He blew out a long, tortured breath. “Well, they said it was stress. That she was young, and that late-term miscarriages weren’t unusual in her family. It was still devastating, of course. How could it not be? Then I came along a few years later, and Jeremy after me. And here I am.”
“Here we all are,” Tyler said, steadily. “We’ll take these bastards out, Zach. Once and for all. It’s not like they can get through all of us.”
“It’s the Run that drew them, isn’t it?” Liam asked, and I jerked my glance his way to find him studying me. There was challenge in his gaze, and curiosity too, like I was some puzzle he wanted to solve, piece by piece. “That set the stage.”
“Maybe, but it also helped us,” Tyler countered. “Nina joining the collective solidified our bond as a team. We all felt it, even if the demons did too.”
“It was the Run,” Zach agreed. “Things have felt off ever since then, and then there was the sunrise ceremony. The horde is amped. They’re looking forward to the fight.”
Liam snorted. “Well, they should be careful what they wish for.”
Tyler refocused on Zach. “What do we need to know to get ready?”
Zach blew out a long breath. “Honestly? This could go a few different ways. The infestation could begin with a place possession—or it could hit students. Or, if we get super lucky, we’ll get a full-on horde sighting, complete with claws, horns, and tails. There’s just no way of knowing until it hits. But I think when it does arrive, we’ll know. I have a feeling it’ll be really, really obvious.”
At that moment, the chimes of ancient, degraded church bells echoed across the campus.
12
“Shit. That’s coming from Bellamy Chapel.” Zach knocked over his chair as he lurched up from the table, and my fingers spasmed over the bracelet as he clapped both hands to either side of his head. My brain served up the image of the pretty redheaded freshman as he spat out the words.
“Wendy Symmes—freshman student in Newton’s demonology class. She’s in the chapel. I don’t know why. This is—not good.”
“Bellamy Chapel?” Liam protested. “It’s boarded up.”
“Not any more—shit!” Zach said, his eyes still screwed shut. “I’ve got a lock on her mind. I connected with her earlier today, and she’s…a little intense. The line between us is still open. She’s hurt—fell, I think. She’s not in a good place.”
“Go,” Tyler ordered, all of us getting to our feet as Zach raced out the front door. Tyler threw a pile of money on the table, gesturing to the bartender, who watched him without moving, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. “We may be back, we may not—keep the change.”
Zach was already hauling ass across the street by the time we emerged from the bar. Grim raced after him. Tyler checked his pace for a half second, turning to me, but Liam shoved him forward. “We’ll follow you,” he said, pulling his bag around. “Go.”
Tyler didn’t need to be told twice. He turned back to Zach’s trail, his entire body seeming to light on fire as he bolted forward, arms pumping, legs churning as he sped down the cobblestone street.
Liam barked a short laugh as he watched him. “Damn, that is some impressiv
e amplification you rocked him with,” he said to me. “Are you guys writing all this shit down?”
“We haven’t really had time for journaling,” I retorted, squinting as Tyler disappeared around the corner. “And how can Zach read minds from across the campus? How is that a thing?”
“I noticed that too—come on, we need to catch up.” We started moving, picking up the pace as Liam yanked something out of his pack and waved it at me. “But Zach’s not the only one with superpowers, yo.”
He ripped the small container open without breaking stride, his grin going wide. “Go,” he said, but I understood it wasn’t an order this time so much as the name of what he was currently squeezing out of the snack tube, shaking his head hard as he swallowed it down. He turned to hand off the remainder of the packet to me. “Like a caffeine or sugar jack, but with an extra kick. It’ll help you keep—”
“Got it.” I took the packet willingly and squeezed some of the chocolate-flavored paste into my mouth—instantly feeling the jolt to my system. Liam and I both lurched forward as if we weren’t quite sure of how to use our legs, but after a few windmilling steps, we settled into a stride that was about three times faster than any speed I’d reached before. I shot him a look, wide-eyed, and his grin told the story more than words ever could. Liam had done a ton of research to fill up that backpack of his, and I had no doubt these little packets were not something you would find on the shelves of the local convenience store.
We raced on, the campus falling away like a dream as we pounded through it. I had the vague sense of students watching us with curiosity or surprise. Either they hadn’t heard the church bells ring or they didn’t know the significance. The crowds thinned out considerably as we got through the main quad and turned toward the older section of campus, where Bellamy Chapel was located. By the time we burst into the courtyard of the old church—now bathed with sunlight and looking like a charming country idyll, not the site of some dire demon attack—no one was in sight. We slowed to a trot, then stopped entirely in front of the chapel.