Those eyes. If it weren’t for their startling blue colour, I'd be searching campus for a different guy because he is not what I expected. Still, at least something about me piqued his interest.
"Yeah. Just for a few months, had some business to attend to." Killing demons and now it's your turn. "So, here I am. Friendless."
Dahlia glances at Keir who's resumed studying his laptop.
"I'm not great at making friends. I think people misjudge me by my appearance." I tip my head and raise an eyebrow at Dahlia.
"I don't agree with judging by appearances,” he says in a soft voice.
"So true, Keir," I reply, trying to meet his eyes again. Is he actually aware of his nephilim origin and clueless, or an expert at hiding what he is?
"You guys want to show me around tonight?" I ask. "I'm free after eight if you have any suggestions."
The horrified look on Dahlia's face, when Keir says yes, amuses me for hours afterwards.
Chapter Nineteen
I hold the page corner, scared of tearing the brittle leaves as I turn them. The humans have no idea who nephilim really are, coming up with their own legends to explain the race’s existence. The true history is written here in exhilarating bedtime reading.
I yawn. I already know the story of the powerful angels who rebelled against the high angels, came to this world, and took on human form. They kept their angel souls and powers and lived like humans. The human rumours they procreated with ordinary people is laughable. Why would they weaken themselves like that.
No. That’s not the truth about nephilim evolution. Over the centuries, they sided with the demon lords against the high angels. The nephilim physically united with demons, trapping their angel souls in a powerful half-angel, half-demon body that resembles a human form. They have a soul trapped by their demon half—made more powerful by their angel soul.
So how the hell am I supposed to steal one from something that powerful?
My research brings Daniel back to mind. In the two years since the night my instructor disappeared, I’ve avoided thinking about him. I hate the naive and inexperienced Ava I was back then, but also know I’m the girl I am now thanks to him.
Daniel taught me to survive - but did he survive himself? Initially I expected him to return, and later imagined he’d appear one day when I was completing missions once in the field myself.
Daniel never returned. Another reason not to think about the guy: he must be dead. Why couldn’t he tell me his secrets before he disappeared? Did he intend to but never have the chance?
Daniel was clear in telling us to stay the hell away from nephilim. I shake thoughts of him away—he’s a ghost from my past who belongs there.
I once heard that nephilim could stay alive when their souls are taken because their angelic power of life creates a demon who doesn’t need a soul. A soulless nephilim taken over by their dark side. If this is true, how am I supposed to survive a fight with one?
If I win, will Keir die long enough for me to take his soul, then run the hell away with my soul crystal? Or will he resurrect zombie like and rip my head off? I rub my head in confusion and try to laugh away the fear. No, something living without a soul must be a rumour. Even demons die once their souls are taken. Nobody can live soulless.
Can they?
A soft knock on my door pulls me away from my thoughts, and I check myself quickly in the mirror. For a night out with a nephilim and his pet mouse, I’ve selected a tiny black dress and striped leggings and finished the look with motorcycle boots, happy to kick someone into next week if they get the wrong message from my clothing choice. I smooth my long aqua hair, check my makeup, and open the door.
Dahlia stands in the hall, arms crossed over her chest. “Are you ready?”
“Looking good,” I lie as I sweep a gaze over Dahlia’s ensemble. Jeans and buttoned up cardigan.
In response, Dahlia studies me and her nose twitches. “Interesting look.”
I narrow my eyes at her and she mimics me. Oh, joy. I hold the gaze until she looks away. If Dahlia has something to say, she can say it.
Dahlia sets off toward the halls entrance.
“So, Keir?” I ask as I stride after her.
“Keir, what?”
“Cute guy—in an annoying sort of way.”
“Annoying?”
“Yeah, annoyingly not interested.” So what if we just met, normally I kindle a spark of some kind on my first encounter. Demons tend to like that kind of treatment.
“That’s Keir. He’s picky.”
“And he never picked you?”
Dahlia stops and puts a hand on my arm. “No, we’re friends, more like brother and sister. He’s just careful about who he gets involved with.”
Whoa. Intense, much. “Okay.”
Dahlia doesn’t drop her hand. “Yes, okay?”
The vehemence intrigues me. If they’re not lovers, then something weird exists here because her prickly attitude is over the top for somebody who’s just a friend.
Still, my original plan of attack is possible.
“He still likes guy stuff, right?” I ask.
“Guy stuff?”
“Girls, alcohol, fun?”
Dahlia sighs. “He’s a guy who just found freedom at college, of course. But he and I don’t quite fit into that crowd, so if you’re looking for college hedonism, I suggest you go elsewhere.”
I hook my arm through Dahlia’s, who stiffens in response. “Well, we can learn to be hedonistic together. Looks like you need some lessons.”
I pull my phone from my pocket and check the time again. An hour since the last drink? Jesus. Why are we still here? Dahlia’s spent the evening with one drink in front of her; a lemonade with a sniff of spirits. Keir fares a little better, a couple of empty bottles lined up next to mine but not enough to liven him up.
I gently bang my head on the table. “Fuck. Guys?”
“What?” Dahlia frowns. All night Dahlia’s glued herself to a taciturn Keir, legs touching. For a small girl she certainly creates a huge barrier between him and me.
“I think I’m going to fall asleep here.”
Friday night and the small campus bar emptied a couple of hours ago, more interesting venues nearby drawing the livelier students away. A few stragglers shuffle around pool tables or prop themselves at the bar, too short of cash or too drunk to move on.
“You’re welcome to find your own entertainment,” replies Dahlia tersely.
“What entertains you, Keir?” I ask, once again trying to catch his uninterested eye.
Keir twists the half-empty bottle in his hands. “I like reading.”
Seriously? “I meant in the evenings.”
Keir shifts and regards me in the way he did earlier. “I said I like reading, especially history books. Do you like history, Ava?” He swigs from his bottle. “Be careful though, sometimes history is rewritten to suit people’s agendas.”
An image of Darius’s book crosses my mind. Considering Keir’s said three words to me all night, his choice of conversation is bloody weird. He rubs his chin and turns his attention back to a nearby group playing pool.
“Not really,” I reply. “I’d rather experience life than read about it in books.”
“Why are you at college,” asks Dahlia, “if you don’t like reading?”
“I read what I have to. Learn what I need.”
And silence. I sigh.
Dahlia glances at her watch. “Scintillating as this is, I need to go. Early start tomorrow—you coming, Keir?”
Keir shakes his head and Dahlia opens her mouth to say something, but when Keir turns to her, she closes it, glancing at me.
Ha. “Night, then!” I say and give Dahlia a little wave.
Dahlia wanders off, pulling her jacket tightly around her. Keir watches until Dahlia walks out of the bar, then switches on a dazzling, out of character smile for me.
“Do you play pool, Ava?”
Chapter Twenty
I sip my bourbon and coke, enjoying the view of Keir’s denim clad rear as he leans over the pool table, and consider how enjoyable things could be if he shows any interest in me. Temporarily, of course. Second game in and I’ve wiped the floor with him so far. A soft click sends the yellow ball spinning into a pocket. I rest against the pool table, close enough to ensure when Keir straightens he’ll be close to me.
“You’re quite an intense person, Ava,” he observes, chalking his cue as he moves back from the table.
“Am I?”
“The way you look at people. And the way you dress, hiding behind your image.” Keir hands me the cue and his fingertips brush mine. “Your turn.”
His words are a challenge beyond our pool game, coupled with the same electric shock sensation from his touch, and my concentration breaks. I swear under my breath as the balls hit and spin in the wrong direction.
I thrust the cue back to him. “I’m not hiding from anyone.”
Keir tips his head. “So why us?”
“Who?”
“Me and Dahlia. A college full of interesting people and you latch onto us. Wouldn’t have thought we were the type you’d be interested in.”
“How do you know what my type is?”
Keir’s violet-tinged blue eyes narrow and he leans across the table to take his shot, turning his back. Is he playing a role to hide his identity too? After Dahlia left, a different Keir replaced the reserved, uninterested one.
If Dahlia’s out of the picture and Keir’s interested in some fun, here’s my chance. Get this mission over with, return to the academy, and pray Darius keeps his words this time. I draw a deep breath, adjust my neckline lower, and wait for Keir to turn back. This never fails with demons—induce lust and blind them to what’s about to happen. Then, dagger out, job done.
“Okay, the truth. I saw you in the hallway and I had to meet you. Sorry if that sounds lame but you’re an attractive guy.”
I wait for the Keir reaction I’d expect—a blush and averted gaze. Instead, he sets the cue next to the pool table and rests his hand a few centimetres from mine. “Really? You’re not shy are you?”
I shake my hair over one shoulder. “I’m up front about what I want. I don’t hang around for weeks waiting.”
“And do you normally get what you want?” he asks in a low voice.
I look at him from under my lashes, summoning a seductive smile. “Yes.”
Keir holds his head closer, hair brushing my face. “Do you think you’ll get me?”
Heart quickening, I step back. With his change in personality, Keir’s height and bulk seem magnified, and not only in a threatening way. I’m pulled into staying close, the energy around him seductive. A smile plays around the corners of Keir’s mouth and he moves his hand to mine, touching my fingers. “Let’s go for a walk and a talk. I think we need to.”
How the hell is this the blushing guy from the library? Does Dahlia use some kind of mind control on him, and when she leaves his nephilim side breaks free?
No, this is deliberate. Does he know? Can he sense me in a way demons rarely can?
“Let’s take a walk, Ava,” he says and grabs his jacket.
Illuminated by spotlights, the main college building overshadows the grounds as we walk through the evening. I walk tall, head high but inside, the unfamiliar lack of control triggers a fear I haven’t felt since training. Keir halts by a fountain and sits on the stone bench, then indicates I join him.
“Dahlia warned me about you,” he says, stretching his long legs out.
“Warned you?”
“Yeah, she said girls like you suck the living soul from people.” He pauses. “What do you think she meant?”
Each word and every undertone pulls away more layers of confidence. He knows. “That she’s jealous?”
“Our relationship is purely a friendship based on common interests.”
I shift away from him, and flick a fingernail against my teeth. The water from the fountain trickles over the marble, the sound mingling with distant voices across campus.
“We knew you were coming before you arrived. Dahlia wanted to stop you, but I wanted to meet you. I’m glad I did.” Keir’s tone hardens as he moves closer.
A shiver launches down my spine. “You’re not as shy as you pretend are you?”
“I don’t like attracting attention to myself, and I don’t want Dahlia interfering.”
“Interfering in what?”
“It’s better if she thinks I have no interest in you. I want to get to know you, before something happens.” Keir lowers his voice “Beautiful girls keep appearing in my life before they disappear again.”
My pulse rate picks up at his words. The electric sensation from his touch now charges the tiny space between us, drawing me in. I expected to sense the demon in Keir’s energy when we moved closer, but he’s the one closing in on me. Is this the nephilim power? His strange mix of demon, angel, and human takes Keir far beyond any prey I’ve targeted before.
“How many girls have there been?” I ask.
“A few. They don’t stay around long though. Thanks to Dahlia’s help.”
The evening takes another insane direction and I scramble to take this information into my already messed up head. Dahlia is responsible for the other soulhunters failing? Human Dahlia? How can she? How many more people on this campus aren’t what they seem?
I stand, maintaining the casual persona drifting out of my grasp. The back of my neck prickles at the awareness of Keir standing too. Keeping my back to him is dangerous, but I don’t want to look into his eyes.
What choice do I have?
Keir’s eyes shine in the evening dim. The hypnotic effect interferes with my confidence as my certainty that I’ll succeed wavers. Unable to hold the intensity, I cast my eyes downwards and clench my teeth. This is my technique: deceiving and teasing, pulling in my targets the way I’ve honed through the years.
But not this time.
Not only is he switching on the nephilim potency, but also Keir’s intent is clear. He’s aware of what I’m doing, and prepared to match me.
Clever nephilim boy.
Keir lifts a hand and I freeze, as if I’m prey he’s toying with. I lift my gaze back to his, determined not to let him get the upper hand.
A smile curves across his full mouth and he strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. I jerk away as the sensation sparks across my skin—people don’t touch me unless I invite them. Looking back into his intense eyes was a mistake as I’m overwhelmed with the urge to put my lips on his. I look back at the fountain, and focus again on the sound of the water trickling over the smooth marble. Is this how nephilim steal human souls?
Keir steps closer. “You can read every word of your book of secrets,” he whispers, breath caressing my skin, “but you won’t find me in there.”
The fountain lurches sideways and I struggle for breath. Keep looking at him—don’t let him win.
His expression mirrors my desire, his weakness surfacing too. But the warning in his words and tone scare me.
No. Run.
I fight the Ava who’d launch herself at Keir, grab him by his dark hair, and pull his face to hers. Kisses are the first step to gaining trust, to letting a victim think I’m weak. Betrayal and my target’s death follow closely after, but my routine could never apply here. For the first time, my control as a soulhunter slips.
I back up, not ready to fight. I didn’t bring the crystal tonight—or a weapon. Tonight was supposed to be a reconnaissance, not a battle.
We don’t speak again, and we don’t need to because the challenge is clear. Tonight we begin our journey towards the inevitable end. Not now. Not here. But one of us will die.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dahlia hovers around Keir like a guardian angel and my amusement at the irony morphs into frustration as the days pass. Does Dahlia know she’s crushing on a demon? Two weeks since my encounter with Keir by the fountain, and no progress. Because of D
ahlia.
Another day, another lunch. I chew on my sandwich, boots resting on the chair opposite, as I watch the people chattering around. Human inanity never ceases to amaze me. Two guys at the next table hunch over their food, shovelling chips into their mouths and studying their phones. Across from them, a trio of girls pick delicately at their salads, focused on their phones too.
Students steer clear of me, regarding me with either curiosity or indifference. My involvement in campus life is zero as I regroup and focus on my purpose—Keir.
How to get past Dahlia. Who would’ve known dealing with a human, and one as small and weak would involve as much energy as stalking a horde of demons through Berlin last month? I worm my way into Dahlia’s life, pleading forgetfulness and asking her for help with studying. Sucking up to and nagging her until she agrees leaves a bad taste in my mouth. She told me she’s only helping because Keir asked her to. Dahlia’s sour face gave me a sense of triumph although long hours with her in the confines of the library bored the hell out of me.
The reason for the pain I’m subjecting myself to barely shows his face. We haven’t spoken since that evening and Keir ensures he’s never alone with me. Sometimes when we’re in class, I catch his glacial eyes trained on me, his face inscrutable, and my cheeks burn. This involuntary action pisses me off, as does the little smile he gives himself when he looks away again.
I look up as a tray of food lands on the table, followed by Dahlia sitting down and unscrewing a bottle of water. Mouse Girl chose to wear black today, like most days, not a good colour against her pallid skin.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”
Dahlia unwraps her sandwich. “Why?”
“I didn’t think you liked me and you chose to sit with me rather than over there.” I point at an empty table across the cafeteria.
“No point, he’ll want to sit with you anyway.” Dahlia sits stiffly, picking salad from her sandwich.
“Can’t imagine why, he hardly ever looks at me.”
“And I have no idea why he wants anything to do with you.” Dahlia dumps tomato onto her plate.
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