Demon Slayer

by Linsey Hall

  Shit.

  Necromancer demons were exactly what they sounded like. Bastards who tried to raise the dead. Which was so dumb. And dangerous.

  “Do we know what his goal is?” I asked.

  “No, but he was called out of the Dark World by someone from Grimrealm.”

  Cold dread snaked down my spine. “So he could know what we are.”

  “I can guarantee it. But if you kill him, the secret dies with him.”

  “Wow, way to sweeten the pot, Agatha.”

  “I thought that would compel you.”

  “It does.” Not that I needed any more compelling. I’d do this because I couldn’t let a necromancer demon run around loose. “Where was he spotted last?”

  “Assassin’s Den. He’s big, with gray horns and a green gem in his forehead. He appeared there when he arrived on earth.”

  The creepy pub was only a few buildings down from us. No wonder that fell within our jurisdiction. Not only did we guard the Well of Power here, it established Magic’s Bend as our territory. We protected the city from any Dark World demon that might threaten it.

  “Where’s his portal?” Mari asked.

  Every demon came through a portal, and sometimes they stuck around. We could usually find good clues in those areas.

  “Near the business district,” Agatha said. “In the tiny alley between the gold building and the Haversham tower.”

  Mari and I shared a glance.

  “I’ll take the portal if you want to take the Assassin’s Den,” she said.

  I nodded. We often tag-teamed these jobs this way.

  I turned to Agatha. “You can count on him being dead soon.”

  Mari squeezed my hand.

  “Be quick.” The energy around Agatha turned darker, more agitated. “This one is up to no good, and he’ll be quick about it. Bodies will be rising before you know it.”

  I shivered slightly.

  I couldn’t stand zombies. How many would he raise? Were we talking a few ramblers or an all-out zombie army?

  With my luck, it’d be the latter.

  “I’m on it.”

  Agatha nodded, then disappeared, her shimmery form sinking back down into the water. I stood in the cold stuff for a second longer, letting the magic seep into my bones. It felt like being wrapped in a warm hug of power, and I’d need all the strength I could get.

  I looked at Mari. “Ready to kick some demon ass?”

  “Born ready.” She grinned. “How did that sound? Legit?”

  “So legit.”

  We turned and hurried up the stone spiral staircase. This time, the Lights of Truth and the aerlig vines gave us no trouble, though the handsy vine reached out and smacked my butt again.

  I jumped, annoyed. “You’re like an old dude at a retirement home cafeteria, smacking the waitress. Get ahold of yourself!”

  “They’ll never learn.” Mari sighed.

  “Nope.” I stepped out into our workshop.

  A pounding sounded at the door, loud and fierce.

  I jumped, looking at Mari. “What time is it? Are we even open yet?”

  “It’s four p.m. You slept a lot of the day.”

  I scowled. I was normally a morning person, but late-night demon hunting could really throw me off. “I’ll check it.”

  Since I was still dressed in underwear and a T-shirt, I couldn’t open the door. But I loved yelling through it and telling people to take a hike. It was like a favorite hobby.

  Before I went to the door, Mari and I touched the corners of the big wooden table. It shifted back into place on the trapdoor. Then I hurried toward the foyer.

  “Hold your horses!” As I neared the door, I shivered. The magic that was coming from the other side…

  It almost felt familiar.

  Powerful. Like a caress. Or a shiver at the back of my neck.

  And it smelled of a rainstorm.

  My heart thundered as I leaned toward the peephole and looked out.

  The handsome, irritating man from last night stared back at me. The one from Grimrealm.

  He couldn’t see through the tiny glass hole, but I could see him.

  And damn, did he look good.

  It annoyed the shit out of me. “We’re closed.”

  “It’s four p.m.”

  “Still closed.” One, I didn’t have time for distraction. I had to hunt this demon. Two, I needed to stay away from him.

  Aethelred was never wrong, and if this guy was going to be trouble according to him, I needed to keep my distance.

  He scowled, his brow creasing in annoyance. “I was told you’re the ones to see about a tracking charm.”

  Tracking charm?

  “Tracking what?” I asked.

  “Open up.”

  I scowled, then glanced in the hall mirror to the side of the door. Messy blond hair stuck up all over my head, and my T-shirt was wrinkled. And I wasn’t wearing pants.

  Yeah, that wouldn’t do.

  I waved my hand over my face, calling upon the glamour that was second nature to me by now. Magic sparked in the air, and my image transformed. My hair flattened out nicely, forming a sleek waterfall. My skin glowed, and I looked rested and icy.

  Most importantly, my clothes changed so my ass was no longer hanging out. A sleek white tank top paired with flowy white pants and heels. Normally I might pair it with a cool white jacket—really working that ice queen angle, natch—but I might be better off showing some skin here. Loosen his tongue a bit.

  One might think that my messy fighter girl self was at odds with the calm and cool Aerdeca who was my other half.

  They’d be wrong.

  Aerdeca was just as much me as Aeri—a stone cold Blood Sorceress who scared people in a different way.

  And best of all, no one from our past in Grimrealm would recognize Aerdeca.

  I grinned and turned back to the door, swinging it open and propping my hip on it. The corner of my mouth hiked up in what I knew was a sexy smile.

  I could have sworn to fates that his jaw dropped a little bit.

  “Like what you see, sailor?”

  3

  Ah, shit. Why was I flirting with him?

  That was dumb. Normal, but dumb. Often, I jumped before I thought. A lot of times, actually.

  I was a sucker for tall dudes with broad shoulders. Even better, this one had the face of a fallen angel who’d spent too much time in a boxing ring. But he was trouble, and I had it from a good source.

  “Like it?” His voice rumbled low. “Love it. Very icy.”

  Well, it was the look I was going for. “Icy? That’s your thing?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Well, quit it.” I frowned at him. “What are you tracking?”

  “I’d rather keep that to myself.”

  Was it my necromancer demon?

  Nah, too much of a coincidence. Just because we had hunted the same one last night didn’t mean we’d be doing it again.

  I eyed him up and down, getting a better look up. His clothes were definitely nice. Expensive, but subtle. The kind of quality fight wear that I liked for myself. The watch was nice, too. It looked like one of those smart watches that humans wore. That was rare.

  Magic and technology were usually pretty compatible, but many supernaturals were old-school. They didn’t like to mix with modern tech.

  Not this guy, though.

  He seemed like the type to take whatever advantage he could get.

  And what the heck was his magic? The signatures were all powerful, but none of them dark.

  “What are you?” I asked.

  “Didn’t your mother ever tell you questions like that are rude?”

  I shrugged. “Didn’t have a mother.”

  I had an aunt, and she was such a bitch I didn’t claim her as my own. She’d kept me and Mari locked up, forcing us to use our dragon blood to create deadly magic. So yeah, she wasn’t exactly the milk and cookies sort.

  “What are you?” I asked again.<
br />
  “Interested in taking you out. That’s what I am.” From the low warmth in his voice, he meant it.

  Oh. “Well, that was blunt.”

  “I’m not one to beat around the bush.” He tilted his head, frowning as he studied me. “Don’t I recognize you?”

  A chill raced down my spine. Besides the moment earlier tonight, I’d never seen this guy before in my life. I’d remember that. He hadn’t seen through my ghost suit.

  No way.

  But did he recognize my magic? I worked hard to keep it under locks, suppressing it so people only felt what I wanted them to feel.

  “Are you a dancer down at the Wild Stallion?” I frowned, looking down toward his waist. The Wild Stallion was a male strip club at the edge of town. “Because I go there a lot.” I tapped my chin. “Though I swear I would recognize you.”

  Instead of blushing or stuttering, he grinned. “You know, I used to headline there. But the ladies were too handsy, so I quit.”

  “Ah, must have been before my time.” I smiled, liking that he kept up with my jokes.

  No, Aeri. Get your head in the game.

  “About that tracking charm. I heard you were the ones to come to.”

  “What do you want it for?”

  “Afraid I can’t say.”

  “Well, then I’m afraid I can’t help you.” I was also afraid he was tracking my necromancer demon. That was how my luck worked.

  I’d put twenty bucks on him being a bounty hunter—a good one, from the look of his expensive clothes—and I wasn’t about to help him. Or get close.

  “Good luck.” I slammed the door in his face.

  “See you later, ice princess.” His voice filtered through the door.

  “That’s ice queen, to you,” I shouted.

  “I’m good with that.”

  I swore I could hear a smile in his voice.

  I peeked through the peephole. He’d turned around already and was striding down the steps, his movements lithe and graceful. No doubt off to find a tracking potion.

  Damn.

  There were other places in town to get them. They wouldn't be as good as ours, but they’d work.

  “What was that about?” Mari asked.

  I turned. She was already dressed in her black fight wear—slim, sturdy black pants and top. Her hair was swept up into a slight bouffant with a heavy ponytail that hung down her back, and the area around her eyes was painted with thick sweeps of black makeup. Mari was even more intense about her alter ego than me, wearing it whenever she might see someone from outside.

  It worked in her favor, though. She looked so different with the makeup, hair, and dress. When she wore anything else, no one recognized her.

  “That guy from earlier.” I frowned. “I think Aethelred was right. This isn’t the last I’ll see of him.”

  “Aethelred is always right.” She squinted at me. “You like him.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do.” She grinned. “Your eyes are bright. He’s hot, isn’t he?”

  “Doesn’t matter if he is.”

  Mari pursed her lips and nodded, as if what I was saying made total sense, but she layered it with a nice bit of visual snark.

  I scowled at her. “Back to business. Let me know if you learn anything at the portal, okay?” I started toward the back of the house, heading for the door to my apartment. I needed to get changed ASAP and get started. Just the idea of a necromancer roaming around was enough to make my hair stand on end.

  “On it,” Mari said.

  I turned back to her. “Safe hunting.”

  She smiled. “Safe hunting.”

  Safe hunting was our thing, and hearing the words warmed me. I gave her one last look and went to my apartment, racing up the stairs to my messy bedroom. The whole place was done up in various shades of white. A dozen different textures gave the place a welcoming feel—knitted blankets, fuzzy pillows, an ornately carved bed, and textured paintings made it interesting.

  I dug out my ghost suit—which was self-cleaning, thanks to a damned expensive charm—and tugged it on, following it up with my boots. My weapons were stored in the ether, ready to be pulled out whenever I needed them, and the invisibility hood was already attached to my suit, even though no one could see it. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail that trailed like liquid silver down my back.

  I hurried down the stairs and out into the main house. The foyer was empty once again, and I stopped in front of the mirror.

  This was a job that called for the ice queen. Mordaca and I were known around town for gathering and selling info. But people were more used to me in the ice queen garb that I’d shown my sexy stalker.

  I waved my hand in front of my face to replace my glamour. Once again, I was Aerdeca. Icy, classy, and wearing a sleek white jacket that looked killer. My heels were four inches and so pointy I could kick a demon in the heart and kill him.

  It was easy to stride out of the house and move quickly down the street. I might look like I was wearing fancy clothes and impractical shoes—if one ignored their ability to murder a demon, which I considered very practical—but since I was actually wearing my fight wear under the glamour, I could move as quickly as anyone.

  It was a great disguise. If someone didn’t already know me, they were likely to underestimate me.

  I liked it that way. The looks of surprise when I beat the hell out of my detractors were priceless.

  Since it was winter, the air was brisk and the sky dark already. Clouds hung low over Darklane, which they often did. It was like the dark magic in the air invited shitty weather.

  There were nicer parts of town—the Historic District and Factory Row being two of my faves—but Darklane would always be home.

  I made my way quickly over the slick cobblestone street. It was a remnant of the past from a place that didn’t want to change. Pale orange light shined from gas lamps that looked like they were straight out of Dickens.

  I kept my senses alert as I walked, scanning the street on either side. There were people out—five p.m. was a semi-reasonable hour here—but there weren’t many. It’d be bustling later tonight, though.

  I shivered.

  I swore I could feel eyes on me.

  Was that guy following me?

  I glanced behind me, but spotted no one.

  “Sausages! Get your sausages!” The voice echoed from the alley to my right, and I glanced over.

  As expected, I saw the sorta-crazy eyes of the sausage man. A sign floated above his head—Sausages for Sale—and he wore a portable grill slung over his front. He was an institution here in Darklane, a scammer who sold fake sausages and siphoned off some of your magic when you handed him the money.

  He grinned as he saw me and held up a hotdog. “Want a sausage?”

  Slowly, the hotdog drooped.

  I stifled a laugh. “You might want to consider some Viagra, sausage-dude. That’s a limp-looking wiener you have there.”

  His face fell.

  I continued on, leaving him to deal with his sausage.

  The Assassin’s Brew pub wasn’t far from my house. The building had once been blue, but like all the other places in Darklane, it was now coated in the black soot of dark magic. The ‘A’ in the sign was made of two daggers, but one had fallen loose and hung straight down.

  I climbed the steps to the door and slipped inside the old-style pub. With lots of wood and only a few taps for beer, the Assassin’s Brew had been there for centuries. Tiny tables were squished together, and there were a half dozen seats at the bar.

  As I stalked toward the bar, a few men tried to get my attention. None of them were my friends—surprisingly, most of my friends didn’t even live in Darklane. These guys fell into two categories. Some were the users—the dark magic practitioners who did creepy things and wanted to use my magic to help them do those things. The others just wanted me to suck their dicks.

  Sweethearts were too dense to know I’d just bite them off.

 
Flirting was dead in Darklane.

  But that was the nice thing about the Aerdeca side of me.

  She didn’t give a shit. She was a stone-cold bitch, and it was delightful.

  I found a seat at the bar and smiled at the bartender, a woman who I actually did like. Ruth was a beautiful leopard shifter. She made a great martini and kept her bar in line with a quick wit that she backed up with a mean right hook. If you really got her pissed, she’d shift and bite your leg off.

  I respected that about her.

  She leaned on the bar and smiled. “What’ll it be, Aerdeca?”

  “Usual, please. And is Simon here?” Simon was my favorite mole. He had all kinds of intel, and he wasn’t the worst. Sure, he was a little slimy, but I could deal with that.

  She nodded toward the bathrooms. “Just went to the toilet. He’ll be back soon.”

  “Thanks.” I turned to watch the crowd as she whipped up my drink.

  A few people were playing cards, and a few were looking at me. I glared at them, and they turned away.

  “Here you go, on the house.” Ruth set the martini on the bar.

  I smiled at her. “Thanks.”

  I’d saved her brother once. He’d been bitten by an Arachnara demon—basically a giant spider demon. He would’ve been dead as a doornail if I hadn’t gotten lucky and had the ingredients on hand. Neither of them had the money to pay for the cure, but what was I going to do? Let him die? I was pretty cutthroat about getting paid normally, but letting some kid die of super spider poison was not on my to-do list.

  Ever since, my drinks were on the house.

  It was a win-win, really. And good, because I wouldn’t be drinking this one anyway. My signature drink was a gin martini. Pretty much just a cup of booze. But that was the last thing I needed before I set off to hunt a freaking necromancer demon.

  I had a role to play, though, and that included a drink. So I raised it to my lips and faked a sip, running my eyes over the crowd.

  I couldn’t help the feeling of anticipation that shivered along my veins.

  He’s nearby.

  The sexy fallen-angel-boxer bounty hunter dude was nearby.

  I could freaking feel him. And it annoyed the shit out of me.

  Made me nervous, too.

  That wasn’t something I was used to feeling. And it was irritating as hell.