“Can you get it out of him or not?”
“Would it be such a bad thing to leave it where it is?”
“Yes!”
“I mean, look at him.” Wilder gestured to the bed where my best friend was writhing and foaming at the mouth. “He has a Call of Duty poster on his wall. How old is he again?”
“He’s a professional gamer,” I said, clucking my tongue. “Wilder, please.”
“Well, that’s all you had to say,” he declared, pushing off the wall and pocketing his knife.
“Wait… What?” I stared after him incredulously as he stood at the foot of the bed, looking rather intimidating in his leather biker jacket.
“Manners get you a long way in life,” he drawled. “They can charm you right into an exorcism if you’re lucky.” He clicked his fingers. “Now, hand me that limited edition Witcher sword.”
“Huh?” I picked up the sword leaning against the wall. “You’re not going to…”
“Pfft,” he said rolling his eyes. “I couldn’t even cut through butter with that thing.”
“What do you need it for then?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to see the look on your face.”
“You’re such an arsehole.”
“I’ve been called worse, sweetheart. You’ll have to try better next time.”
“Hunter,” the demon said, its voice hollow. He spat at Wilder, who just stepped to the side. The saliva missed him and he cracked his knuckles. “You think you can win? This body is mine.”
“Yours you say?” he replied with a laugh. “You can’t even get up.”
The demon cackled, licked its lips, and went for its crotch. I gasped and covered my mouth as it pulled out Jackson’s—
“Don’t look at him, Scarlett,” Wilder said. “Demons are all about violent masturbation in front of the possessed’s loved ones. It thinks its shocking, but I guarantee your friend is already intimately acquainted with jacking off.”
“I don’t want to know. Just get that thing out of him!” I exclaimed.
“Put the penis away, Infernal,” Wilder said, holding out his hands. “And leave this human before things get messy.”
“Never!” it shouted, its eyes flashing silver as it bared its teeth.
“They always say never,” Wilder muttered before he began to chant something in a strange language. Was that Latin?
I edged out into the hall as Jackson began to thrash, throwing his head from side to side. Wilder clenched his fists and the demon’s back arched away from the mattress, its arms and hands twisting as its mouth gaped open. The bed shuddered, scraping across the floor a few inches to the left, then back to the right.
I glanced at Wilder, but he hadn’t moved. His hands were still raised and coiled into tight fists, and his gaze was locked on the demon.
Jackson let out a wail as he was pushed back onto the bed by an invisible force, then his mouth opened and a plume of black smoke rushed out.
The smoke hit the ceiling, then pooled in the corner, writhing and emitting sparks of electricity. It sent out long inky tendrils, looking for a crack to escape through.
“Kill it!” I cried.
Wilder pulled out his crazy sword and I flinched as it sprang into life, showering the room with white sparks. Luckily for us, nothing caught fire, but the demon began to pulsate, emitting a dull rumbling that sounded a lot like an angry growl.
He edged towards the cloud as it snaked across the wall, holding the sword at the ready. It was searching for the window, wrapping itself around the curtains.
Wilder thrust, the demon roared, and the window shattered. The demon shrieked, then flew out into the night, tumbling and turning until it dissipated.
“You let it get away,” I said with a humph.
“At least it’s gone,” Wilder shot back, “and out of your geeky boyfriend.”
“Jackson is not my boyfriend.”
“He’s not, huh?”
A thump banged against the floor as I tried to catch my scattered wits.
“Shut the hell up!” the neighbour boomed, his voice carrying through the floorboards. “People are trying to sleep down here!”
I glanced at Wilder.
“Sorry about the window,” he said with a shrug. “Have you got insurance?”
Shaking my head, I climbed onto the bed and smoothed Jackson’s hair from his brow. He was burning up and sweat prickled his skin. He was unconscious to the point of being in a coma, and no amount of shaking brought him around.
“That’s not going to help,” Wilder drawled.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“There’s no question about it now,” he declared. “You’ll have to come with me.”
“I think we’ve had just about enough quality time together,” I said, checking Jackson’s pulse. Thready.
Wilder snorted. “You and your lanky friend.”
I shook my head. I was so done with this bad acid trip. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”
“He was possessed,” he stated. “The demon likely fed on his soul at least a little. That’s why he won’t wake up.”
“It fed on his soul?” I shrieked, almost falling off the bed.
“Calm down, Purples. We can fix it. Don’t get your knickers all twisted in a bunch.”
I fisted my hands into my hair and resisted the urge to burst into tears. “Did it follow us here? Was it waiting for me?”
“After all the shit we’ve been through tonight?” Wilder glanced away. “Probably.”
“Why? What did I ever do to it?” I sniffed, my throat burning. “Where do they even come from?”
“There’s a world that exists alongside yours,” Wilder said. “A secret world that threatens to plunge yours into eternal darkness.”
“How cliché.”
“It may be cliché, but it’s also very real. Those demons you saw? Those are only the tip of the iceberg.”
I stiffened at his analogy, unpleasantness tingling down my spine. Memories were like icebergs…
“I’m beginning to suspect that demon wasn’t at that pub yesterday by chance,” he went on, throwing a glance at Jackson, “especially now.”
“Why? I’m a nobody… I’m…” A messed up woman with a mental problem.
“It could be any number of reasons,” Wilder said. “I denied it, and this was its revenge, or its fixated on you, or—”
“Or?”
He shrugged and grasped Jackson’s wrist. Pulling my comatose best friend across the bed, he leaned forward and dragged him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. Maybe it was another magic trick.
“C’mon, Purples. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”
“We’re walking?” My feet were throbbing from a day pinging back and forth across the city and the midnight marathon around Moorgate. The thought of walking while trying to transport Jackson was too much.
“Fine. We can get a taxi, but you’ll have to hail one for us,” he said with a pout. “No one will stop for a guy with a body slung over his shoulder.”
Downstairs, Wilder hid in the bushes while I scouted oncoming traffic for a taxi. Dawn was on the rise as the sky was already lighting up. Glancing up at the flat, I grimaced as the curtains in Jackson’s room fluttered through the broken glass. Not only was I going crazy, but I’d dragged my best friend into it too. What a night.
In the distance, I spied the light of an available black cab and I raised my hand. The indicator flashed orange as the car pulled off the side of the road and stopped beside me. Too tired to care, I climbed in the back and the driver leaned around and peered at me through the Perspex partition.
“Where to, love?” he drawled, his Geordie accent harsh against my ears.
“Um…”
The taxi rocked as Wilder appeared, the weight of both him and Jackson making the car dip.
“Oi!” the driver exclaimed. “You can’t bring him in here!”
“It’ll be fine,” Wilder said, setting Jackso
n down on the seat between us.
“No, it won’t! Get ‘im out!”
“Listen.” The demon hunter leaned forward and tapped his finger against the partition. “Look here. That’s it…” The taxi driver’s expression slackened, and his gaze fixed on Wilder’s fingertip. “You can’t see us here and you definitely won’t be able to hear what we say.” The man nodded, his mouth gaping open. “You’re going to drive us directly to Battersea. Cringle Street. Got it?”
The man turned and began to drive, pulling out onto Kentish Town Road and almost sideswiping a bus.
“Bloody hell!” I exclaimed. “What did you do to him?”
“He’ll be fine, Purples. We’ve got places to go and he’ll get us there faster than our feet.”
This Light thing was getting out of hand. I didn’t know anything about it, but in books and movies people always said magic had consequences. Wilder seemed to use his abilities without any thought other than what it could get him. I found him more arrogant the longer I was in his presence.
Jackson was still out cold when I checked him, though when I pressed my fingers against his neck, his pulse was strong.
“You didn’t mention God,” I said.
“When?” Wilder asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Aren’t exorcisms meant to be performed by priests? How can you be sure it worked?”
“There’s no way in hell I’m a priest. I like sex too much.”
My cheeks heated and I glanced at Jackson.
Hastily changing the subject, I asked, “What was with the troll doll?”
“It was a failsafe,” he replied. “If my alteration didn’t hold for a third time, it’d lead you back to me.”
“You weren’t too pleased to see me, though.”
“I didn’t want to deal with it,” he stated. “And it did look like you.”
“You don’t know what to do with me, do you?” When he didn’t reply, I added, “That’s okay, neither do I.”
“It won’t be my decision,” he said after a moment.
“What do you mean?”
Wilder glanced out of the window, watching an early morning London flash past as we crossed the Chelsea Bridge.
“Wilder?”
“I’m just a soldier, Scarlett,” he murmured. “The Naturals will decide what to do with you, not me.”
In that moment, I knew I was nothing more than a problem to Wilder. A stupid woman with too many issues to count, a history of poor decision-making skills, and a possible immunity to his weird magic. Whoever the rest of these Naturals were, they sounded like a real riot, but if they could help Jackson…
I rolled my eyes and grasped his clammy hand. He needed help and this was the only was he could get it. I guess there was no two ways about it. Time to climb into the jaws of a lion.
6
There were a lot of things I would’ve changed if I could go back forty-eight hours. Like ignoring the troll doll, calling the police when I saw Wilder stab that guy, and believing Jackson when he’d said no one was there. Another was following a demon hunter, who called himself a Natural, through the dark city streets while he carried my best friend over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Glancing up at the towers of the Battersea power station, I shivered. My breath blew out in a plume of vapour in front of me.
“Where are we going exactly?” I asked. “We’re not going to recreate the cover of Pink Floyd’s Animals album, are we? Because I’m fresh out of inflatable pigs.”
“We are going to the Sanctum,” he replied. “The Naturals home turf.”
I glanced around the rundown street that sat in the shadow of multiple tower blocks. “Here?”
“We can’t exactly list our phone number, you know.”
We turned down a dark lane, the rising sun casting murky shadows over everything. Wilder stopped outside an old factory and pushed open the wire gate.
“Wait, this is your headquarters?” I stared up at the abandoned building and didn’t get it. Was it an underground facility or something? Who the hell were these people? “It’s a pile of shit.”
“You still don’t get it, do you, Purples?” He grasped Jackson as he lifted his free hand and pressed it against a door that had a no trespassing sign nailed to the wood.
It creaked open and Wilder stepped inside, leaving me no choice but to follow. So demons were a thing, as well as possessions and exorcisms… oh and magic. Were ghosts real too, because this place looked haunted as fu—
My breath caught as I found myself inside a place that looked anything but decomposed and abandoned—it was posh as.
We stood in a foyer of bland slate-colored stone, the floor shining with slices of veiny black marble. Overhead, an elaborate domed skylight let in the dawn, filling the space with orange-tinted sunlight. A small metal plaqued was screwed to an otherwise plain wall ahead of us. Footsteps drew my attention and I turned before I had a chance to read what it said.
A man melted out of the shadows and strode towards us, not looking too pleased with our appearance.
“Wilder, what’s going on here?” he barked.
He was dressed in black from head to toe. A tight black T-shirt clung to a muscled torso, then came the black trousers and combat boots. I warily eyed the hilt tucked into a holster on his belt. It was another of those funky arondight blades Wilder carried. How many of these Natural people were there?
“Calm down, Brax,” Wilder snapped. “I’m in the middle of a crisis here. I need Ramona.”
He crinkled his nose in distaste. “What is that thing on your back?”
“That’s my best friend!” I exclaimed, my annoyance levels running at an all-time high.
The man Wilder had called Brax glanced at me, his confusion clear. “What’s she doing here?”
I bristled at Brax’s tone as he gestured to another man waiting in the wings, who immediately rushed off deeper into the building, his boots thumping against the marble.
“I’d be careful with that one,” Wilder said. “She bites.”
“Hard,” I added with a glare.
“You were meant to check in hours ago,” Brax went on, ignoring me completely. “What have you been screwing up this time?”
I made a face. Wilder must be the delinquent bad boy who constantly gave the middle finger to authority. Looking him over, I could see how it fit. Smart mouth, distinct lack of respect—he had all the hallmarks of an anarchist.
“I’ve been reluctantly saving people from demons,” he drawled. “Can I put this thing down yet?”
“Where is he?” a woman asked, striding into the foyer. She was just as happy to see us as that Brax guy was. “Where is the human?” She was almost as tall as Wilder, her auburn hair pulled back into a severe braid, and her attitude was as sour as a lemon on a hot day.
“Ramona,” Wilder said to the woman as she came to a halt in front of us. “He was possessed by an Infernal. It’s chomped at his soul, I’m afraid.”
She pursed her lips as she looked at me, then immediately disregarded my presence. Why did they keep doing that?
“An Infernal?” She seemed worried about this and glanced at Jackson.
“There was nothing I could do at the scene,” he went on. “He needs—”
“Understood.” The woman clapped her hands and two men with a stretcher appeared.
I watched numbly as Wilder set him down and Jackson was carried away.
“Wait,” I called out. “Where are you taking him?”
The woman lingered, narrowing her eyes. “To the infirmary,” she stated. “He’ll get the care he requires.”
My skin crawled as I realised I was as unwelcome here as a fart in an enclosed space. My gaze bounced about the room, from one pair of untrusting eyes to the next.
“Wilder,” I rasped, tugging at his sleeve.
“You don’t have to worry about your geeky boyfriend,” he said. “Ramona will look after him and once he’s better, he’ll wake up at home none the wiser
.”
“No, that’s—” The room tilted.
“He won’t remember being possessed, Purples. His soul will be repaired good as new.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Not what?”
My vision blurred around the edges and a low hissing sound echoed in my ears. Great, just my luck.
“I don’t feel so good,” I muttered just before everything went dark.
7
Awareness came back slowly.
My eyes cracked open, revealing a room awash with soft light. Cream walls and a leather chair sat in the corner. A soft bed and a feathery pillow. I felt like I’d sunk into the mattress and was fused there. I closed my eyes again, hoping the next time I opened them, I’d be in my own bed. How long had I been asleep? I remembered passing out, but nothing after that.
“She’s had a rather eventful few days,” a female voice said. “She’ll wake when her body is rested enough.”
“So it wasn’t anything demonic?” Was that Wilder?
“No, merely human exhaustion. Besides, she wouldn’t have been able to cross the threshold if she were harbouring a demon.”
“Point…”
“From your report, she’s been through a great deal. Our world is confronting, but to this extent?”
“I know.” There was some rustling, but no one spoke for a while. “I’d like to be present when you test her.”
“Wilder, you know I can’t allow that.”
“She’s been through enough, and I’m a familiar face at least. If I—”
“I won’t be manipulated,” the woman snapped. “You know the parameters of your involvement here and they do not extend that far. The Codex doesn’t allow it.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched on for a while until Wilder said, “Understood.”
There was more rustling and the sound of a chair scraping back.
“You better decide what mask you’re going to wear today, Greer, because she’s awake.” Heavy footfalls crossed the room, then the door slammed shut, signaling that Wilder had stormed out. I had no idea what his role here was, but it seemed like he’d been demoted and wasn’t happy about it. Why wasn’t I surprised?
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