by Jen Pretty
I laughed and coughed and then moaned in pain. Len held out an ice chip for me, and I gladly took it. The cold water felt great on my angry throat and desert mouth but the swelling was so severe that I couldn't swallow. I let the water run down my throat, hoping I wouldn't drown on a stupid ice chip. The pain medication helped, but not much could really stop the pain, just dull it.
Len filled me in on all the latest news from town. It wasn’t much, our towns biggest scandal was that old lady Gertrude forgot her teeth and walked around all day without them.
“All right, you hang in there. I’m going home because the new kid is no good at dough and I don't want a whole ton of complaints tomorrow when the crust isn't right. You take care and come home soon.”
I squeezed Len’s hand, and he gave me one last smile before walking out.
I nodded off after Len left, thankful to have seen a familiar face. The hospital was busy, and the room I was in had four beds that were always full, but the occupants came and went like the changing of the guard. One entire wall of the room was windows that lit the space during the day, streaming light through the flimsy curtains that surrounded my bed. I wished Nick was in my room so I would have someone to talk to. Not that I could speak. Okay, fine. I just wanted someone I knew around. Nick and I shared a connection with a dark world we couldn't share with anyone else.
I watched TV for a while and tried to read a magazine a nurse brought me, but what I really wanted was food. Nurses delivered trays to other patients three times a day, but I was still struggling with water. Half the time it came out my nose instead of down my throat.
I slept off and on the rest of the day and into the night. Sometime around midnight I woke and turned toward the door. A tall, broad figure stood in the doorway, back-lit from the hall light so I couldn't see his features. I didn't need to though. I knew who it was. Julian stared for a moment and then turned and walked away. I don't know if I would have said anything to him or not, but I missed my chance, anyway. I lay awake staring at the doorway for the rest of the night.
“How are you doing today, honey?” the nice nurse asked. I liked this one; she spoke kindly and called me honey.
I cleared my throat a few times and whispered “Fine.”
Her laugh was like bells tinkling, and she set a green jello cup down in front of me. My heart said it was food and got excited, but my brain knew it was just water with sugar.
I valiantly made my first swallow and raised my plastic spoon in victory. A chuckle disrupted my happy dance and I looked over to find Nick leaning against the door frame.
“Shut it, I’m wonder woman,” I whispered hoarsely like I had smoked two packs a day for the last twenty years.
“You certainly are,” Nick replied, walking across the room and collapsing into the chair beside my bed. His face was swollen and battered. He had two black eyes and a scrape across his jaw, his nose was twice it’s normal size, and a piece of tape covered his nostrils, but he seemed okay.
“You look like shit,” I said.
He laughed again and gently touched his nose. “Yeah, they reset my nose, but my brain is okay. I got a thick skull, apparently.”
I laughed carefully. “You going home?”
“They let me out, but said you would get out today, too, so thought I might stick around and give you a ride.”
I smiled at him and reached out to squeeze his hand. “Thank you.” I let go, but he held on to my hand, refusing to let me pull away.
He looked around and then leaned in close to me. “The gargoyles all flew home.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“The ones in the library froze, and sculptors from all over the northeast came and collected them.”
I nodded. That meant mine were all back home again, too.
“What happened?” I whispered harshly. Emotion filled the question, and Nick knew what I meant.
“Julian stabbed him in the back with a giant ass knife and threw him across the room. He ran out the door. He’s gone.”
We both knew he was out there somewhere, probably summoning demons and other dumb shit. Great.
Nick told me stories in whispers so nobody else could hear. He told me about chasing gargoyles through cities and countryside.
I was sure he made up some of them, but eventually, I nodded off and woke to the sound of my nurse's chirpy voice.
“You ready to go home?” She asked. I opened my eyes and realized Nick was asleep, too, his chair tucked into the bed and head on my stomach.
I ran my hand over his head. His hair was so soft. I sighed, then I looked up at the nurse and said, “Yeah. That’s probably for the best.”
She laughed as though it were a joke, but I had to get back to my life. Someone needed to keep the gargoyles in line, and I was the one responsible for Humber Falls.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Nick drove me to the train station after a quick stop at the mall to get a turtle neck and some make-up to cover the worst of my damage. I was not looking forward to the train ride home with people staring at me.
In the train station, Nick kissed me goodbye in the middle of the busy terminal, and I felt a pang of sadness. Nick was a good man who I could get to know and have a relationship with, but he had his job here and I had mine several hours away.
“I want to see you again soon,” he said.
“You live pretty far away, Nick.”
“Just a train ride and I’ll call you.” He sounded sure that this wasn’t the last time we would see each other. I wasn’t sure about a relationship. Though it would be easier since we both had the same job, it still seemed a bit far fetched to carry on a long-distance relationship. I wasn’t in the mood to think about it, so I said goodbye and turned to board the train.
A pair of dark eyes caught my attention near the other end of the platform. I searched the writhing crowd but couldn't find them again, and I had to board, so I climbed the steps and found my seat. The woman sitting beside me smelled strongly of perfume and was laughing with someone on her cell phone; it would be a long trip. I glanced out the window once she settled in her seat and found those dark eyes again.
Julian stood in the shadow of the train station, his face blank, but his intense eyes were boring holes into mine. I wanted to wave or smile or something, but I couldn’t. Too much had happened and even seeing him from this far away made my heart race with fear. It was possibly an unreasonable fear, but I was afraid of him. Maybe all half-demons would have scared me right then.
The train pulled away, and I held his eyes until I couldn't see him anymore. I was comfortable telling myself it was for the best that I left the whole of New York behind. But somewhere out in the world was Collin and who the hell knew what he was up to.
I got lost in my thoughts for most of the trip home. Then slept until a stewardess touched my shoulder and woke me at my stop.
When I stepped off the train, the earth seemed too still. I had gotten used to the rocking motion of the train.
“Hey, Har,” Lincoln called from across the small outdoor platform of Humber Falls tiny train station.
That was the moment I remembered that Lincoln had been holding out on me and my anger surge. “Don’t you ‘hey, Har’ me, Mister. I know all about hunters getting paid and how I didn't need to be working.” I poked him in the chest with one finger. It kind of hurt, actually. Was he made of stone, too?
He looked bashful but said, “Len wanted you to keep working for him, and you love that old guy. If you had all that money, you wouldn’t have needed to work for him or stay with me.” He looked away and sighed. “At first it was because you were under age. Then you went through that rough patch,” he dropped his voice to a whisper as people passed by to enter the station. “I wanted you to have a family and connections.”
Ugh, now how was I supposed to be mad at him? “Fine, but you owe me!”
He laughed, “It’s in a trust fund. You can have it whenever you want.”
“OK, let’s go h
ome.”
He turned, and we walked side by side through town toward his little, converted mechanic shop. The town seemed smaller, as if I had grown. It was a beautiful day; the birds chirped and the sun shone. The gargoyles were all solid statues on the top of the bank, but when we passed the library, and I looked up, there was a figure missing. The one who possessed me and started all this shit was missing from the back corner of the library. I looked at Lincoln.
He frowned and shrugged his shoulders.
Fabulous.
Gargoyle Huntress Copyright © 2019 by Jen Pretty. All rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by Drop Dead Designs
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Printing: April 2019
ISBN 9781775290681
Half-Demon Huntress
Harlow’s Demons book two
Jen Pretty
“I can’t drown my demons.”
“They know how to swim.”
CHAPTER ONE
My arm whipped out, just barely missing the little shit.
“Thirty-love,” my tennis instructor said with a smirk. She was mid-thirties, wearing a tiny white skirt and matching tank top. She was a professional tennis player several years ago, but now she just creamed me once a week and called it a tennis lesson.
Since my roommate, and saviour, Lincoln had informed me of my ability to run significantly faster than the average person, I was teaching myself to be normal so that I could get control over these crazy superpowers of mine. Demon-touched gifts. That’s what Lincoln called them.
I was sure they were more of a curse than a gift. I could return a gift to the store and buy something fun like a pinball machine. Instead, my “gifts” allowed me the strength and speed to chase down the little stone hell-spawns that flew around at night, returning them to their proper places on the bank and library of my small town.
“Oof!” The ball pelted me because I wasn’t paying attention, and if I didn't know better I would think my instructor came straight from hell.
“Forty-love.” The scorekeeping for tennis was weird. Why am I love? I’m zero. The whole lesson I sit at zero; she might as well not keep score and just whip balls at me.
Now if I could use my super speed, I would get that little ball every time, but no… This was Lincoln’s idea. He’s a jerk.
I sprinted for the next serve, throwing myself at the ball, but I still missed it. I hit the ground and slid along the artificial grass on my face. My cheek felt like I had thrown hot grease at it.
“That’s game,” my instructor chirped.
Tennis sucked.
I hobbled back to the country club with my hand covering my cheek and dragging my tennis racket beside me. My speed control was getting better, but I think my tennis skills were getting worse. Glancing down at myself I found stains on my cute tennis skirt and my shirt that read “Sometimes I wrestle with my demons, and sometimes we snuggle.” I found the shirt online and had it shipped. There was no way I would snuggle demons, but I thought it was funny.
Inside the country club sat most of the town’s upper-class people. They only let me in because of Len, my old boss at the pizzeria. He was a high-brow member of the club because he liked to play golf and he was my adoptive father, of sorts.
“Oh God, did they run a greasy pig competition?” my nemesis, Rhonda, said from her table. She was sipping fruity drinks with other stuck up snobs in skanky low-cut tops, and fancy sun hats they thought made them high class, but just emphasized their need to get a life.
“Thank you for your concern, Rhonda.” I narrowed my eyes at her and continued to the kitchen to get ice.
“Hey Harlow, how's it going?” said nemesis number two. I had a new hatred for Derrek since I returned from New York because it turned out his daddy was the former hunter and didn't want to hand down the job to his bouncing baby boy. It was maybe not his fault since he had no clue about gargoyles, but I still blamed him. Someone should take the blame.
I waved and passed him without looking.
In the kitchen, I rummaged in the freezer and pulled out some ice cubes. They were freaking cold but felt nice on my face.
“You need help?” Derrek asked from behind me. He had followed me into the kitchen—stalker much?
“Nope, I’m just dandy.” I turned and tried to go past him, but he put his hand on my arm and stopped me.
“Go out with me? Please, Harlow? I’ll make it up to you.”
He was talking about prom still. It was three years ago, and he ditched me for Rhonda, so, you know, I was still holding a grudge.
“No, I have stuff to do.”
“Every day?” he asked with a chuckle like it was funny.
“Yes, every damn day.” I walked on, leaving him behind. The country club was on the edge of town, so it was about a three-mile walk home, but I didn’t mind. I could run it in about five minutes, but it was a beautiful day, so I strolled down the side of the single lane highway and just enjoyed the silence. Birds were chirping, and butterflies were flitting about.
A horn cut through the silence, and I jumped, spinning around just as Rhonda and her asshole friends blew past in the pink convertible Rhonda purchased recently. It was a nice car. I flipped them off, but they were already gone. I threw what remained of my ice in the ditch and kept walking. My face felt better already.
A few other vehicles went by, but our town was sleepy, even on a beautiful day. I made my way to Len’s Pizza in town and pushed open the door. The old bell over the door rang, and the smell of fresh crust and melted cheese smacked me in the face. My stomach began its protests. Pizza was my primary source of nourishment, but now that I no longer worked at Len’s, I had to make a special trip to get some.
“Hey honey, what happened to your face?” Len asked, eying me like I was up to no good.
“My boyfriend beat me,” I replied. The young kid in the back looked up startled, but I laughed, and he went back to slowly cutting vegetables for pizza.
Len raised his eyebrows. He was not one to let these things go.
“I fell playing tennis and burned it on the artificial turf.”
Len turned and limped to the sink where he kept the Pam cooking spray.
“Oh, come on, Len. Not on my face.”
“Close your eyes and hold your breath,” he said, as he walked towards me, aiming to spray my face with Pam. He had this idea it would prevent blistering from a burn, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t even work on real burns. I was about to protest again, but he had the can pointed right at my face, and I enjoyed having vision, so I closed my eyes and held my breath. A quick spray and I was ready for the frying pan.
“Thanks, Len,” I said even though I just wanted to pitch his damn cooking spray into the garbage. Manners matter.
“Now you gonna have to make your own pizza today. I’m teaching the boy to cut.” Len limped back to where the kid was cutting peppers. He seemed to still have all his fingers. That was a good sign. The new kid lived upstairs in one of Len’s low-rent apartments he rented to troubled families. Len was a good man and probably the only real reason I’m still alive.
“All right.” I secretly loved making my own pizza. Staring into the old brick oven as it melted the cheese and turned the crust a golden brown was like watching a sunset. Losing my job at Len’s Pizzeria still stung a bit.
I went into pizza making mode, flattening out Len’s special dough and topping it with his perfect fresh toppings; then I slid it into the oven, set the timer, and sat on my old favourite
stool to watch it.
Len’s voice instructing the new kid on the proper technique to chopping vegetables was as comforting as a warm hug. He used the same words he used when he tried to teach me to cut, but I was never very good at it. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board as he demonstrated was soothing, and I nearly nodded off on my stool, but the timer buzzed, and I snapped back to attention.
“You are not sleeping enough,” Len said as I passed him with the hot pizza. I slid it into a box and sliced it into eight.
“I’m trying, but my brain won't shut off at night,” I said, pulling a piece of pizza out and laying it on top of the box to eat on the walk home. Grease coated my fingers, and I stuffed a couple of napkins in my pockets, too. I wasn’t lying about my struggle with sleep. I had the worst case of insomnia since I came back from New York. It didn't help that when I got to sleep, I would wake up in a cold sweat after a repeat performance of coming face-to-face with the demon. They were ugly and terrifying. Nobody would sleep well after that.
“Hmm, well as long as you aren’t out partying all night long,” Len said with a suspicious look on his face.
I laughed. Party, table for one. “I promise I am not out partying all night.” I hugged Len and headed for home.
As soon as I was out on the sidewalk, I pulled out a napkin and wiped the Pam cooking spray off my face. My poor face was all greasy, but it was the buttery Pam, so it tasted okay. I munched my pizza and strolled through town, counting my gargoyles because old habits die hard. Everyone was there, except the bastard on the back corner of the Library. The demon inside that gargoyle possessed me three years ago and then disappeared when the demon shit happened in New York. No one had seen it even though Lincoln had put the word out through the sculptors that we were still missing one. That gargoyle could be anywhere by now, but I needed a clue before I could go track him down.