“Beautiful Ava,” he says, breathing heavily in my ear, “you’re wasting your time trying to steal back my soul. Your high angels friends know what I’m doing and they want to stop me. You won’t be the one to do that.”
“Not quite the meek and mild guy you make yourself out to be, are you, Keir?” I growl back, tearing at his arm around my neck.
“And you’re not the tough girl you make yourself out to be, are you, Ava?”
He releases my neck and roughly twists me to face him, gripping the tops of my arms. “Don’t mess in things you don’t understand. Anybody who gets in the way of what we’re doing doesn’t survive long.”
I wince as his grasp tightens, forcing myself to hold his look. Dark pupils obscure his blue irises and fear sneaks in. He could kill me.
Keir throws me backwards across the alleyway again, and I land on the floor in a heap. This is bullshit. I drag myself to my feet and stumble, black dots behind my eyes. Reaching inside my jacket, the dagger’s hilt pushes hard against my damp palm. If I don’t act soon, I’m dead.
Focus. Fight to the death is the soulhunter code. Is this how the other soulhunters failed against Keir? Memories of the Fated world spill into my mind and tears spring into my eyes. Death here is better than returning there. Ragged breaths hurt my chest, and I muster the little power I have left as I pull the dagger from its sheath.
Keir’s mouth twists. “If you want me to use that on you, go ahead.”
He doesn’t move, arms folded across his chest, as he regards me with a victorious smile. The dagger glints as I charge toward him. Keir’s eyebrows arch in surprise for a moment before he casually reaches out for the dagger and knocks me to the floor. Pushing his knee into my chest, Keir holds the metal point against my cheek.
Keir looks down, glacial eyes furious, as the tip of the dagger digs into my skin. I stare up at the pinprick stars above his head instead. Will I die here? Fail so spectacularly? Fear replaces the bloodlust from the fight, and nausea wells in my stomach.
I’ve failed.
A hateful tear spills from my eye, and I blink it away. Keir won’t enjoy my fear as he kills me—he can’t have that triumph. I lock gazes again, willing the teardrop sliding down my face to disappear.
Keir shifts his eyes to the unwanted tear running down my dirt-covered cheek. The point of the dagger presses harder into my cheek and pierces. As the tear touches my ear, he hesitates.
“Fuck.” The dagger clatters to the ground as Keir stands, pauses, then runs into the night.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I wince as I shift in my desk chair and rub my sore head. Darius’s book lies open in front of me, next to pages from Keir’s file spread over the desk. Why didn’t I study the file properly in the first place? Cocky me, deluding myself I’d be done and dusted, game over, in a week. Every bloody muscle in my body aches; I haven’t taken a beating like that since training. Last night raises a crap load of new questions I’ve no answers to.
Demons. A nephilim wouldn’t fight or kill demons—they’re allies.
Keir. Why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance?
Dahlia. Who the hell is she and how is she involved?
My head splits with the pain and confusion.
I flick through the pages, recapping the information on the relationship between demons and nephilim. Humans think their lore about nephilim is correct. It isn’t. The closest part to the ideas humans have is that they are originally fallen angels. Not that humans have any clue what angels really are either.
The ruling demon lords persuaded the exiled nephilim to unite their angel souls with demons, to magnify the powers the nephilim held. This corrupted nephilim race became a super-demon in human form, as strong as the demon lords and as powerful as the nephilims’ old allies, the high angels. The two races united against the high angels who are at war with the hell realm. Easy. History 101.
The demon lords needed a bigger army and began capturing human souls to create demonic foot soldiers for the war against the high angels. For this job, they chose their newest allies, the human-looking nephilim who could easily gain human trust.
The nephilim had the power to take the gathered human souls and create new demons—demons handed over to their leaders to control and send to war, or to collect human souls too.
Part of that war includes killing soulhunters who interrupt their task.
So Keir killing a demon contradicts everything I’ve ever read or heard.
Why didn’t Keir kill me? There’s no reason for him to spare the life of the half-angel whose purpose is to steal his soul. Our relationship is kill or be killed. So why am I alive?
Secrets aren’t held in this book; secrets are hidden by those around. And I’m determined to find out what they are before I make any more moves.
I’m three classes into the next day with no appearance by Dahlia or Keir. I’ve stalked from lecture to seminar, engaging less than usual, and swearing at everyone who gets in my way—or looks at me the wrong way—and my head pounds with frustration.
Dahlia never misses class.
I’m half-relieved by Keir’s absence. He might change his mind about killing me or regroup with Dahlia to put plans in place. The problem is, I want to see him. Last night, when his heart beat against my chest, his warmth as our bodies pressed together, drew me away from the pain of the fight. I avoid physical contact at all costs, but despite the pain we inflicted on each other, something more took over.
In his eyes, I saw an open doorway to a place I’m tempted to go, one Keir didn’t mean to reveal to me. The softened look in his eyes, as he watched the pathetic tear spill down my face, cemented my belief something weird exists here. I snort. Compassion and humanity from my sworn enemy? And Keir says I’m weak.
By the day’s end, another scenario enters my mind and a cold dread creeps across my scalp. What if Dahlia and Keir moved on, and I’ve missed my opportunity? I know part of their secrets now, and they realise I want to interfere. Why wouldn’t they leave and continue their secret life elsewhere? Then how long do I have before Darius finds out and I’m dragged back to the academy, and punished for my failure?
I trudge back to my room, fighting the sick feeling, telling myself not to overreact. It’s less than twenty-four hours since I saw either of them.
I push open the door to the halls and halt when I see Dahlia. Cross-legged on the tiled floor outside my room, the slight girl with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, sits with small backpack on her lap. As I approach, she jumps to her feet, curling fists into balls by her sides. I twitch my mouth into an amused smile.
“What the fuck did you do?” hisses Dahlia.
Whoa. That’s the first time the quiet girl’s foul mouth matched mine. Dahlia’s paler than usual, eyes circled by stress and dark shadows.
“Hey, Dahlia, nice to see you too.”
“Keir. He’s gone.” Dahlia’s voice cracks and she clears her throat, curling her hands tightly around the bag.
“Oh well, I’m sure he’ll be back.” I force nonchalance despite the words “oh shit” forming in my mind.
“What did you do?” repeats Dahlia, through clenched teeth. “He didn’t come back.”
“Maybe he found something more interesting to do than hang around with you?”
“Did you kill him?” A girl passing in the corridor glances at us and edges to the opposite wall looking at me.
I eye the girl, who continues along the corridor. “Do you want to come into my room and talk about this?”
Dahlia stares after the girl, small mouth thinning.
I open my door. “Dahlia?”
“What?”
“We have something to talk about?”
“Oh, we sure do.” She pushes past into the room.
Slinging her bag onto the bed, Dahlia crosses her arms tight. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“When?”
“When you followed us last night, after I left. Keir came back late
last night and told me he had to leave.”
“I didn’t follow—”
“Save it!” snaps Dahlia, and I don’t know whether to laugh or be shocked by Dahlia’s attitude. The mouse bites. “I know you fucking did. I thought we’d lost you, but we didn’t. Obviously.”
Dahlia’s small body is coiled, muscles stiffened, ready to attack. Surely she wouldn’t be so stupid. Any human would lose against a soulhunter, doubly so this little girl.
“I saw Keir attacking someone. I thought the victim was a human so I intervened. I was wrong. He was attacking a demon, the demon left, we had a fight, and I came home. Simple.” I tip my head, even though it was anything but.
Dahlia pulls herself straight. “Don’t make what happened sound so mundane—why did you interfere?”
“Nephilim kill humans. Nephilim don’t kill demons. So I think it was a fairly bloody logical reaction when I saw Keir kicking the shit out of someone.”
Dahlia approaches me. “I don’t think you know the slightest thing about nephilim.”
“And you do? Do you know what you’re messed up in?”
“Yes. Do you? You only know one version of who they are. History is only ever told from one point of view and twisted to suit the teller’s propaganda.”
“Oh really, and what do you think you know about them? You’re just a human; you have no idea.” I jab a finger into Dahlia’s chest.
Dahlia steps back and points at my book, resting on the desk. “Who gave you that? Was it Darius?”
At the sound of Darius’s name, I drop my arm. “How do you know who Darius is?”
Dahlia smirks.
“Just who are you anyway?” I demand.
“I’m helping Keir.” Dahlia looks back from the book to me.
“Helping Keir do what?”
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m helping him kill demons.”
“He’s a nephilim and he’s killing demons. Why?” A thought strikes. “Is he taking the stolen souls back to somebody?”
Dahlia’s expression turns to pure disgust. “No, that’s what you do, readying the high angels’ army.”
“Army? No, I return lost souls to safety.”
“How do you know where they go when you take them back? Have you ever asked yourself?” spits Dahlia.
We face off in the small room, both ready in case the other attacks. My head thumps with anger that Dahlia holds more answers than I do. The mouse has the upper hand, and her sardonic smile reflects her enjoyment at the role reversal.
“Who are you?” I demand. “Or what the fuck are you?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Surprise me. Shut me up. Whatever.”
“Oh, I’d love to shut you up. If it was up to me, I’d have killed you the first time you went anywhere near Keir.”
My hackles rise. Dahlia’s on thin ice; one more word and she’ll be on the floor.
“Really? And what makes you so tough? Have you looked at yourself recently?” I flick my fingers at Dahlia’s appearance. “Plain girl following hot nephilim around, who is clearly using you. Do you know what they do to humans? Do you want to become a demon?”
Dahlia narrows her brown eyes. Ha. Now who has the upper hand?
“You think you’re better than me, don’t you? You think you know everything when you don’t.” Dahlia turns her back to me and yanks up the bottom of her black top.
Indelibly marked on the skin at the base of her spine is a number. Below rests a round scar, shirt button sized, faded to pink. “Holy shit,” I say before I can stop myself. Dahlia’s soulhunter tracker. Someone cut it out.
The world shifts further off balance.
“You’re a soulhunter?” I ask. “How long have you been this close to Keir? Why haven’t you taken his soul yet?”
Dahlia smoothes her shirt back down. “I’m not a soulhunter anymore.”
“How? That’s not possible. You can’t stop unless you’re given your freedom to live with the angels. Or—”
“Apparently it is possible. I have.”
I squeeze my temples. Nobody leaves behind soulhunter life. Death is the only other way out.
“Who cut out the tracker? Are you human now?” The questions stumble from my lips.
“Yes, I’m human now and it takes more than than just cutting this out to leave behind soulhunter life.” She touches the scar.
“How… I mean why would you do this? You’re human now? That’s fucking awful.”
“I’m not telling you anything else, Ava.”
My head hurts as I try to catch up. “Why are you helping Keir? He’s a nephilim.”
“I learnt enough about what’s happening around us to know who to help.”
I pace to the window, look out at the campus and the wind blowing the remaining brown leaves from the trees. Seasons passing in a world Dahlia doesn’t belong in. I won’t let her know her secret has fazed me.
“Keir… where’s he gone?” I ask.
“I don’t know, I asked you, remember? And if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.” Dahlia’s lips disappear as she pulls her mouth tighter. “But I can guess he’s looking for that demon you let get away. I bet he was really fucking angry about that.”
I involuntarily rub my bruised back, and Dahlia yelps a laugh. “He hurt you? Serves you right. If I were you, I’d keep watching that back. I don’t need to tell you what happened to the other hunters who came to take his soul.”
“Like you?”
“I never came for Keir’s soul.”
“Why not?” Dahlia shrugs and I narrow my eyes. “Well, he could’ve killed me when he had the dagger pointing at me, but he didn’t,” I retort, regaining my composure.
Surprise flashes across her face, then back to anger as she moves closer. “I don’t know what power you used to stop Keir killing you, but you won’t stop him. He knows what you are and you’ve already caused a major problem for him. You’re as expendable as the other soulhunters who came here and died.”
I fight the urge to grab Dahlia and choke her. The slight irritation Dahlia caused has morphed to infuriation in the space of minutes. She’s blind-sided me revealing who she is, and now taunts me.
“I didn’t use any power on him. It was Keir’s choice. He decided not to kill me.”
“I wouldn’t count on that. I can’t see anything that makes you different to the others.” Dahlia’s smug smile grows. “Maybe he wants some amusement from you before he ends your life. You wouldn’t be the first soulhunter he screwed and then ended the fun with snapping her neck.”
Dahlia pushes past, slamming heavily into my side, and slams the door behind her.
I throw myself backwards onto the bed, I scrunch the sheets until my knuckles turn white. I should go after Dahlia and finish her. She’s human. Weak. A soulhunter now human? Gross and impossible.
Or not.
The fight with Keir spools behind my eyes when I close them. The adrenaline of my encounter with Dahlia floods back the exhilaration of fighting with Keir too. At the time, a barrier came up, blocking my need to kill him, replaced with a desperate desire for his touch. Is that what happened to Keir too? This is a huge problem—what if the same thing happens next time and I can’t kill him?
What presses on my mind more is a different question. Keir could have killed me. But he didn’t. Why?
Chapter Twenty-Five
I tie my newly pink hair into a ponytail as I wait for the lecture to start. At the back of the room, Dahlia leans back in her seat, laptop poised but eyes closed. Apparently, I’m not the only one lost without Keir. Does she know where he is? Her scowl deepens daily, so I’m laying bets she doesn’t.
The days turn into weeks, and Keir hasn’t returned. Each day I scan every part of the campus for him, but only ever see Dahlia.
Dahlia refuses to come near or speak to me, her eyes narrowing in warning if I approach her. The one time I managed to get close enough to speak to her, I barely said two words before Dahlia
turned on her heel and strode away. I’d ignore her, but my curiosity about Dahlia’s status as an ex-soulhunter won’t drop.
I’m faced with a half demon killing other demons, a girl who’s left my world behind, and now my unease over my exact role in all this consumes me. My simple kill or be killed world of hunting souls, returning to Darius, rinse and repeat, has ended. And in the centre of the maelstrom of confusion lies the biggest question. When and if Keir returns, am I facing death? No, he won’t kill me. I can’t explain why, but the moment I saw my own doubts reflected in his eyes, I knew.
Darius. I’ve failed. How has Darius known in the past when soulhunters fail? When they died? Or when their mission took too long? Does he have people watching? The questions repeat over and over, as I scrutinise any new face arriving on campus, paranoid Darius might send someone to retrieve me. After weeks, I relax but not fully.
A guy walks through the double doors and crosses to the stairs between the rows of seats. He searches the rows of faces until sapphire blue eyes flecked with violet meet mine.
Keir. At first, he’s unrecognisable, hair shorter and curls no longer falling across his face. The sharper cut defines his jawline, accentuating the strong cheekbones and full mouth. He pauses on the stairs long enough for hope to rise he’ll stop and talk to me, but he veers upstairs to Dahlia.
A surreptitious glance over my shoulder reveals Dahlia’s wide smile and open-mouthed surprise. A heat crosses my face as they embrace each other tightly.
I spend the next hour shifting in my seat, looking over my shoulder at Dahlia and Keir whilst the blonde-haired girl next to me huffs with irritation. I ignore her, too fixated on my anxiety I’ll miss Keir when he leaves to waste energy on challenging the girl. I need to leave first and decide what the fuck to do. Run? Keir threw me an impassive look, and I’ve no idea of his intentions towards me. His new appearance also threw me, as did my heart speeding when he approached.
The lecture over, I sit with my bag on my knee and wait for the two friends to pass. Keir strides ahead of Dahlia, and my stomach flips as I watch him pass. How does he do this? I shake my head. Drawing girls in is a nephilim thing and nothing to do with the intensity of that moment we pressed together in the alleyway. Get a bloody grip.
Soulhunter Academy Page 11