The Hunter

by T R Kohler

  “Not you, personally,” Bob replied, “but somebody looking to check out what I found.”

  “Which was?” Ember asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I mean, I’m guessing not everybody knows what either of you are really supposed to look like.”

  Keeping her features impassive, Ember cast a glance to Kaia. The man’s ability to see them plainly was clear. How was the part they were still in the dark on.

  A fact she wasn’t about to disclose unless she had to.

  “True enough,” Ember conceded. “But how did you come into possession of it?”

  Looking at each in turn, the man allowed a tiny hint of a smile. “The same way anybody in our industry comes into such things. Put out feelers, always have an ear to the ground, make as many connections as possible.”

  The answer might have played for a boardroom, or a corporate presentation, but Ember was in no mood. “I don’t give a damn how these things usually go. I want to know about this one in particular.”

  The smile grew a bit larger. “I knew you guys would be interested.”

  More than once Ember had been present for these sorts of interrogations. Back-and-forth conversations where the opposite side actually thought they had the upper hand.

  Without fail, all they really attained was her anger.

  Taking a half-step forward, Ember cut the distance between them by half. Close enough she could lash out with a foot if she wanted to, she kept her stare leveled downward.

  “We don’t know that yet. Actually, we don’t know a damn thing beyond the fact that your name isn’t Bob.”

  The man opened his mouth, beginning to respond, but Ember pressed forward, in no mood for whatever he was about to say.

  “But there’s some things you need to realize, Bob. Like the fact that my friend here” — she raised a finger toward Kaia, pausing long enough to let Bob look her way, taking in the creature standing over him — “is a demon.”

  She paused again, watching the man’s brows rise slightly. “And unlike most people, you know I’m not lying to you, because you can see her. You can look at that face, and those arms, and imagine every little thing she might do to you.”

  Like an elevator dropping from the highest floor, Ember watched as the color drained from the man’s face. His jaw flapped weakly twice before he found his voice, saying, “But I know the rules. She can’t hurt me.”

  Smirking, Ember let a sarcastic smile form. She glanced to Kaia and said, “Oh, well, he knows the rules.”

  “He don’t know shit,” Kaia said, her gaze never leaving the man, her tone matching the stare she was giving him.

  Returning her focus to do the same, Ember let any previous mirth fade from her features. “You hear that, Bob? Word is, you don’t know shit.”

  “That’s...that’s not true,” Bob managed, any shade of the man who had opened the door long since gone.

  In his place was someone who had dipped a toe into a world he didn’t truly understand, realizing on the fly that hubris and stupidity were both contributing quickly to what could be his undoing.

  Giving him a moment, letting that realization settle in, Ember jerked the top of her head in the opposite direction. “Kaia, the TV.”

  On command, Kaia turned and snatched up the table from beside them. Bowls of snacks scattered across the floor as she flung it one-handed toward the opposite wall, the wooden implement flipping end over end before crashing into the screen of the television.

  Burying the front corner in the dead center of it, the table hung suspended above the floor for a moment before plummeting back to the ground. Landing on all fours, it settled motionless, a sea of glass shards strewn across the floor around it.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The phone was still in the middle of its first ring when Typhon snatched it up. Without looking at the name on the faceplate of the screen, he pressed it to his face.

  “Yeah?”

  For a moment, there was no sound on the other end of the line, long enough that Typhon thought the line might be dead. He pulled it away, seeing that it was still connected, before looking at the name across the top.

  Valac.

  Sighing, Typhon put the phone back to his face. Knowing that the silence was in reference to the tone and stance he took in greeting, he gritted his teeth.

  This was no time for somebody to be acting petty, throwing up blockades because they might have gotten their feelings hurt.

  Just as surely, it was not a moment for him to be prideful, either.

  “Apologies,” Typhon said. “I was expecting a call from somebody else and just saw it was you, Valac. Thank you for getting back to me.”

  Each word felt heavier than the one before, Typhon hating even hearing them leave his mouth. Still, such was the price of doing business in Hell.

  It wasn’t like it was going to get any better moving forward.

  “You’re welcome,” Valac said, his tone grating against Typhon’s every nerve. “I was able to reach out to my contacts and have found some very interesting information.”

  Leaning forward, Typhon tapped at the top of his desk, bringing the digital surface to life. Flicking a wrist to either side, he shoved aside the programs he’d been working on, bringing up a blank document.

  Holding a finger above the desk, ready to transcribe, he said, “Oh?”

  “Oh, is right,” Valac replied. “Let me ask you, do the names Bruges, Vladivostok, or San Diego mean anything to you?”

  A sour taste coming to his mouth, Typhon pushed out a sigh. He worked his jaw up and down, swallowing down the bitterness he felt before responding.

  Valac knew the areas Typhon was likely to be dealing with. Asking about Bruges and Vladivostok was nothing more than a ruse to try to make himself seem more important. If the man had anything at all in those cities, he knew they weren’t connected to Typhon, though still he felt the need to ask.

  Classic overcompensation pattern.

  Typhon would expect nothing less from a demon that resembled a child.

  “San Diego,” Typhon said.

  “Ah, yes,” Valac said, drawing in a deep breath. “I had figured as much.”

  Fingers still held ready to take down any useful information, Typhon waited, his eyes bulging slightly as nothing more was said. “Uh, what were you able to find?”

  “Find?” Valac asked. “Nothing yet. I’ve only just heard back from my sources and haven’t had time to vet any of this.”

  Again, Typhon sighed.

  “Of course,” he said. “I would expect nothing less on such short notice. Anything you have is appreciated.”

  Rising to his feet, Typhon snapped his legs straight, using the backs of his knees to push his chair away from him. Pressing his left hand into the desk, he leaned forward, aware of precious time slipping away.

  And his patience growing increasingly thin.

  “The word I’m receiving is that someone might be in possession of a Seeing Eye,” Valac said. “Again, I don’t know-”

  “Right,” Typhon said, cutting him off as he scribbled down the information. “I’m not holding you accountable for this. Like I said, I’m just looking for some heading on this.”

  Finishing up his notation, Typhon lowered his right palm to the desk as well, staring at the letters before him.

  On the list of things that he’d rather not have floating around out there, a Seeing Eye wasn’t at the very top, but it wasn’t far down either.

  Clearly, there would be interest in this from the other side as well.

  Taking a moment to process, Typhon asked, “Listen, without giving up your sources, can I ask how news of this got out there?”

  A moment of the requisite hemming and hawing passed, Typhon effectively tuning it out, before Valac said, “While being quite cognizant of my contacts, word is that there is a seller that let it be known they had come into possession of one.”

  “Any idea who?” Typhon asked.

  “No,” Valac
said. “The general thinking is that the person deals strictly with middlemen, making a positive identification impossible without prior say-so.”

  The arrangement was a common one, many people who peddled this sort of thing not willing to give up their information easily.

  And with good reason.

  Taking it in, Typhon stared at the words scribbled down in his own hand. His vision blurred as he did so, adding the data to what he already had.

  A Seeing Eye endowed any person who had contact with it with the ability to see past an avatar. Regardless of which side they were affiliated with, any disguise was rendered instantly worthless.

  As a single object, it wasn’t such a big deal. A few people walking the streets, claiming to see angels or demons, could be written off as heretics.

  If too many were to come in contact, though, it could effectively end the presence of Hell and Heaven in the middle realm forever.

  “Listen, Valac, thank you so much,” Typhon said, his mind already working ahead to the next step. “I owe you one.”

  “No,” Valac said, the word drawing Typhon’s attention up from the screen. “You actually owe me two. One, if this turns into something, and another later, at a moment of my choosing.”

  Feeling his rear teeth come together, Typhon clenched until his jaw ached, the animosity he felt bursting through every pore.

  “You got it.”

  Chapter Forty

  Bob’s eyes and mouth all hung open as he stared across the room. Seeming to forget that Ember and Kaia were standing before him, he focused entirely on the shattered remnants of his television. Moving in slow motion, he leaned forward, gaping at what he saw.

  “You...you crazy-”

  “Unless you want to take a swan dive into the ocean from an eighty-foot bluff, I’d suggest you be very careful how you finish that sentence,” Ember said, cutting him off.

  “Very careful,” Kaia echoed, stepping to the side, blocking his view of the television.

  Blinking twice, Bob managed to pick up his jaw, swallowing hard before looking at them each in turn. “That TV cost me three grand. I had it custom made and shipped to me directly from the factory in Japan.”

  Considering the space they were now standing in, Ember had a feeling he could cover the expense.

  “Then I suggest you stop hiding and start answering,” Ember said. “I’m not sure who you’re used to dealing with, but I assure you, you’re a little out of your league on this one.”

  The world of rare antiquities was one Ember had never dabbled in before. While there was no doubt a market for such things in Seattle, especially given its disparate cultures and place as a port city, it was well outside her purview.

  Kidnapping and murder, the big ones that drove a department’s budget, made up the backbone of her case log.

  And the log for most of her coworkers.

  Even at that, she could imagine that Bob was a big fish in his particular pond, his lifestyle and his attitude both making that much clear.

  “What do you have?” Ember asked.

  Still a bit in shock, Bob stared straight ahead. He leaned a few inches to the side, attempting to see past her to the carnage of his television, before Kaia slid with him, blocking the view.

  “What do you have, Bob?” Ember repeated, raising her voice.

  This time, it had the desired effect.

  Blinking rapidly, Bob retreated back into his seat. Looking up at each of them, he said, “I happened upon it completely by mistake. A guy I know in LA contacted me, said he’d gotten his hands on something that was driving him crazy.”

  Shifting her weight, Ember glanced over to Kaia, the demon’s face unreadable. “Crazy how?”

  “Said he was seeing stuff,” Bob replied. “People with wings, folks with horns, all kinds of weird shit.”

  If he could see them both in their true forms, it bore to reason that wings and horns would both be part of the equation.

  “So you went to take a look?” Ember asked.

  “A look?” Bob asked, his eyes bulging slightly. “Hell, no. Pardon the expression.”

  Holding a hand up, he cast a gaze between them, making sure he hadn’t offended, before continuing, “Dude was somebody I’ve worked with before, pretty straight shooter. If he said he had something, I took him at his word. Drove up that day and got it.”

  “And what was it?” Kaia asked.

  “Nothing too crazy,” Bob said, shaking his head slightly. “Looked more or less like a hand mirror. Real basic design, no jewels or anything, just a plain marble frame with a piece of glass set in it.

  “One look, next thing I knew, people like you two were popping up everywhere.”

  Two days ago, the story would have sounded too outrageous to believe. Ember would have dismissed it as deranged rantings, or drug abuse, or some combination of the two.

  Now, given all she’d seen, it did sort of make sense. She’d have to run some of it by Kaia, but nothing seemed too outlandish.

  Which only made her shudder at what she might discover in the coming years.

  “How many people have you told?” Ember asked.

  Wetting his lips, Bob again shook his head, the skin beneath his jaw coiling and unfurling, his face even redder than when they’d arrived.

  “Just a handful. Started with my highest rollers, then whittled it down to those who might have an interest in such a thing.” Pulling up short, he narrowed his eyes slightly. “Speaking of which, who tipped you guys off?”

  Bypassing the question entirely, Kaia asked, “How many, exactly, is a handful?”

  “How specific were you in describing the object?” Ember asked.

  Not sure which to answer first, Bob looked between the two of them. Seeming to be calculating things in his head, his gaze lingered on Kaia for a moment.

  When in doubt, appease the demon first.

  “Four,” Bob said. “One local, three international. I can give you names, but I went through a middleman on all of them. I don’t talk to anybody face-to-face anymore. Business hazard.”

  Thinking of the shattered television behind them, Ember had to stifle a laugh.

  That was putting it mildly.

  “As far as the specifics,” Bob continued, “I was pretty vague. These people know they can come to me if they’re looking for something particular, but rarely do I reach out, and never without good reason.”

  Silence fell between the group, each stepping back, assessing what they knew.

  Tam would have been the local contact that Bob had reached out to, using Carlow as the go-between. Given the state of his home and showroom, that wasn’t terribly surprising.

  What was the fact that he must have been under surveillance, the correspondence being what must have put Jonas and his team on the scent.

  “Where is the mirror now?” Ember asked.

  Flicking his attention over to her, Bob said, “It’s in a safe place.”

  In no mood for such games, Ember let as much play across her face. “Do I need to ask again if you’d like to go for a swim?”

  “No,” Bob said, “but I’m no fool. I figured someone like you guys might show up here, and having that mirror at arm’s length was the only thing that would keep me alive.”

  An argument that made sense, but also begged a further question.

  Taking a step back, Ember hooked her thumbs into her belt. Looking over to Kaia, she sighed. “So what is it you’re looking for?”

  Matching her gaze, Kaia’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if Ember might have overstepped, before switching back to Bob.

  “Like you said, you’re a businessman,” Ember added. “And there’s no way you risked bringing this kind of chaos down on yourself for nothing.”

  Otherwise, he would have just destroyed the mirror. Or left it where it was.

  Everybody had an angle. This was no different.

  “Well,” Bob said, visibly relaxing just a tiny bit, “I’ve heard you guys – on either side - can cut
a deal.”

  Seeing where it was going, Ember finished, “And you figured you could barter for something, using the mirror instead of your soul as payment.”

  Again, Bob looked between them, before nodding just slightly. “Well, yeah.”

  Ember’s first move was a combination of instinct and muscle memory. There was no time to think, no way of formulating a plan to best handle the narrow confines of the wooded road, the heavy snowfall, and the enormous stag standing in the middle of the narrow lane.

  Jerking the wheel hard to the right, Ember whipped the car to the side, a decision made by the desire to put herself between her son and the danger. The front end jerked to the side, the corner she sat in swerving past the obstruction.

  For the briefest of moments, it appeared that the move would be enough. That the front end would clear the animal, giving her the needed room to course correct and straighten back out.

  With her breath clenched in her core, her heart rate spiked, head lamps throwing a luminous glow over the snow-laden branches lining the road. The world awash in white, everything whipped past in a quick blur.

  “Hang on,” Ember said, her voice elevated to be heard over the radio. Suddenly seeming so much louder than just a moment before, it piped in through the speakers, her heightened nerves making everything seem more pronounced.

  On most any other day, the sudden intrusion would not have been an issue. It would have been a surprise, would have certainly been an obstacle, but it wouldn’t have been impossible. Arguably no worse even than much of the inner-city driving Ember did on a daily basis, maneuvering her way through the dense congestion of Seattle.

  Using both hands, Ember pulled the steering wheel in the opposite direction. Tugging one over the other, she felt the front end of the car veer back toward the center of the road, the tread of the tires fighting for purchase, before the accumulation of slush became too much.