by L. L. McNeil
‘That a demon was attacking my sister?’
‘I’m a demon hunter. It’s what I do. There are plenty of demons around this town. Why is that?’
Damon didn’t look convinced. If anything, his brows furrowed even more. ‘A demon hunter?’
An owl hooted again, and Amber crossed the lounge to properly close the door to her balcony. She rubbed her arms. ‘Seila saw it. The demon. She...she pulled it out of me. I don’t know how. Then killed it.’ Amber went back to the now boiling kettle to pour another mug for her brother, as though this were a completely normal turn of events. Her voice didn’t even shake, and she only hesitated to choose the right words.
Damon glanced back at his sister, then to Seila, one eyebrow raised skeptically. ‘You...pulled it out of her?’
Seila sighed and nodded. The barrage of questions was imminent, she could feel them building. It began with denial, and often led to anger and defensiveness. She’d be insulted, called a freak, and then they’d turn on her. She braced herself for it, and wished Amber hadn’t closed the door. It would have been a quick way to escape and fly away. Now, she’d have to either break the door—which she didn’t want to do—or leave the normal way. Down the flight of stairs.
But the next thing Damon said was not what she expected.
‘You’re one of them, then? Aren’t ya?’ His voice had darkened a fraction. He ran a hand through his hair, whistled, and glanced at Amber. ‘There are demon hunters around here. Others like you.’
That caught Seila off-guard. ‘You’ve seen other Phantoms?’ A tingle ran down her spine at the realisation that she might not be alone. It wasn’t something she’d felt before, and wasn’t unpleasant. Something close to the emotion she saw on others every day, but was usually just out of grasp. She blamed her lack of soul for that. She still felt things—just a muted, heavily diluted version.
At least, she thought so.
Damon took his mug of coffee from Amber, sniffed deeply, then took a long gulp despite the boiling temperature, downing half of it in one go. ‘Phantoms? I dunno about that.’
‘What do you mean, then? Other Elementals?’
‘Elementals?’ Damon asked, one eyebrow raised.
Seila frowned. How could he be so stupid? ‘You are. And Amber. Your fire?’
Damon looked at Amber, who blushed and raised her shoulders in a sort of half-shrug. She twisted a lock of her hair and refused to meet his eyes. Damon narrowed his eyes. ‘Sis…?’
‘He means the Kouzlo,’ Amber said quickly, turning the conversation away from herself. She sipped from her own mug.
Seila wondered why Amber lied about her Elemental lineage. She certainly hadn’t imagined the fire. And that word, “Kouzlo,” had been thrown out again. Her mind churned.
‘That’s them. That’s what I meant,’ Damon continued, oblivious, ‘I know of people like you. People who kill demons.’ He gulped down the rest of his scalding coffee then dumped the empty mug in Amber’s sink.
Other hunters were better than nothing. Surely they would know what was causing the influx of demons to Fernhampton. Another Phantom would have been far too good to be true, of course. Seila licked her lips. Perhaps they could tell her why there were so many more demons here than should be reasonably expected. ‘Good. Take me to them.’
Damon yawned and covered his mouth with his free hand. ‘What, right now? Bit late, ain’t it? Anyway, it’s just one guy. My best mate, Tej. He’s got a weapon that rips ‘em apart. Couple of demons attacked him once. They never tried it again, let me tell you.’
That was promising. Perhaps this Tej would know more. She glanced at the clock again. ‘In the morning, then?’
Damon nodded. ‘Sure. He’ll probably be working though, but we can go see him. Why the rush, anyway?’
‘I don’t hunt demons for fun. I hunt them for my soul.’
Both Amber and Damon exchanged looks. Then Amber said, ‘Your soul?’
Seila tensed, bracing herself for their inevitable questions, doubts, and suspicion. ‘I don’t have one. Tracking down demons and killing them is the only way I can reclaim it. That’s why I go for Soul Eaters, or Leeches, especially. They steal a part of a person and move on. Some stay on their host, kill them, and then find a new one. I think...I think one has part of me. Somewhere.’
‘But don’t...if you’re attacked by a Leech, don’t you...aren’t you left empty? To die?’ Amber asked. She hesitated, as if trying to politely phrase such a delicate subject.
Just hearing those words aloud reminded Seila of the demon who’d taken her soul. How she’d struggled, semi-conscious, after the demons who’d ran off with it. They’d cackled as they ran. She’d felt colder and colder with every step.
She’d no longer needed to eat. No longer felt emotion.
All she’d been left with was the hunt. She followed the voices, always on the edge of her perception, hoping to one day find the demon with her soul and reclaim it—and her humanity with it.
Killing demons fed her. She lived off their power, now. If she stopped killing, she’d die. And she’d die just as Amber said: alone, an empty shell.
Seila walked to the glass door and stared out into the night sky. The moon hung low and silver, and a hundred thousand stars twinkled. She knew her soul was out there. She just needed to find it.
Just needed to keep pushing herself, find more demons, and become whole again.
‘I didn’t realise Leeches could do that,’ Amber said.
Seila shook her head. ‘It wasn’t a Leech that took my soul. It was something else. Some demon I’ve never seen before, or since. Something huge. Powerful. It gave my soul to Leeches...and I’ve been hunting them ever since.’
‘...Seila?’ It was Damon.
‘What?’ She asked. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with questions about her weakness.
‘How can you not have a soul? Like...how can you be alive without one?’
His questions irritated her. ‘I take the power of demons when I kill them. I drink water. I sleep. That keeps me alive.’
‘But how can you be...without a soul?’
Seila shrugged, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. ‘I can’t tell you any more than that. I’ve never met anyone else like me to ask. Phantoms aren’t exactly common. I am who I am.’ She realised that although Amber and Damon were related, and appeared similar, both were completely different. Amber was a calm, gentle flame that brought warmth and stability. Damon was more impulsive, hot-headed, and set her teeth on edge.
Amber stepped in. ‘But there are others like you, Seila. Not just Tej. I mean...other demon hunters.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper, as though it were some great secret that she risked unearthing. ‘I don’t know, but...but...mum was part of it. The group of hunters. The Kouzlo.’
‘Amber!’ Damon gasped.
‘It’s okay.’ Amber rested a hand on Damon’s shoulder. ‘We don’t talk about it. At all, really. We aren’t supposed to. ‘
Damon fixed his sister with a glare that she pointedly ignored.
‘But, mum was...different. She was wonderful. Loving. Kind. She always took long trips away for work. I never thought much of it growing up but...the smoke you showed me. From the demon? I remember her going after that once. I had to be...seven years old? Damon would have been five. We were in the park somewhere. You remember, the one near the school? Demons never really came to town, there were too many people. But this one must have been braver than most. Or more stupid. Everyone ran, but she went after it. Into the trees. The park was closed, then. Never reopened.’
‘...And it always smelled of bonfires,’ Damon said bitterly.
‘Even after it was flattened and they built the shopping centre over it. You could always smell it, leaking through the drains.’
Seila narrowed her eyes. Demon-blood had a very specific smell. It wasn’t something you’d ever forget. And it wasn’t too far fetched that Amber and Damon would remember that smell even from their early ch
ildhood.
Considering Amber had shown the abilities of an Elemental, it wasn’t too hard to guess that their mother had been one. Perhaps they were only half. Perhaps Damon had no powers, that was why Amber had lied about her fire.
They’d also said they weren’t supposed to talk about it, which threw up even more questions about the Kouzlo.
Seila rolled her tongue in her mouth as she considered it all. She’d travelled the length and breadth of the country and had encountered a few other demon hunters here and there, or at least discovered the damage left in their wake. She made a point of avoiding others, because she didn’t want to share her hunts. Didn’t want to risk it.
What if a reckless Fire Elemental burned away the demon that carried her soul?
But Fernhampton seemed to hold many more demons than anywhere else, and that was intriguing. And with at least one Elemental and two half-bloods, plus a demon hunter with a great weapon, perhaps one of them could explain why so many demons were drawn to this place.
From the sounds of it, the town had something of an infestation. Sticking around might well work out in her favour after all.
‘Where is your mother? Still in Fernhampton?’ Seila asked. ‘I would like to speak with her.’
Amber shook her head, eyes dropping. ‘Mum’s gone. It’s just me and Damon, now.’
Seila narrowed her eyes. That was usually polite speech for “dead.”
Damon shrugged. ‘Demons. They’re getting bolder now. Before, you could go a year without seeing one. Now, they’re popping up every couple of months on the edge of town. Hah. Maybe they’ll attack London soon, then we’d all be finished.’ He laughed.
‘That’s not something I’d be laughing about,’ Seila said. ‘But I was drawn to this town because of that. Demon numbers seem particularly high here. Why?’
Damon shrugged again, running a hand through his messy hair. ‘I dunno. You tell me, Miss Demon Hunter.’
Amber put a hand on her brother’s shoulder. ‘It’s the Kouzlo’s job to look after us. To keep demons from entering towns. Most people don’t know it. That’s the whole point. Demons are a distant threat, something that people don’t need to worry about.’
‘Unless you’re a poor sucker in the middle of the countryside,’ Damon said.
Seila didn’t know why demons were drawn to Fernhampton, especially if it was guarded by other demon hunters...the Kouzlo. She was an effective demon killer, but it was never enough. She grew more powerful after every hunt, but she didn’t have her soul.
Still didn’t have the final part that would make her whole again.
If Amber and Damon’s Elemental mother was no longer around, then perhaps Tej would provide more of a lead. Seila didn’t have many options, and she was tired of going around in circles, hunting indiscriminately. She needed a plan. A proper focus. Some way of knowing that she truly was working towards getting her soul back.
And reclaiming her memories and emotions.
She was half a person. Missing something fundamental.
‘Your tea is getting cold,’ Amber said. She seemed practical and level-headed, in comparison to Damon’s brashness and ignorance.
Seila downed the rest of her mug and handed it back to Amber.
‘My place is small, but you’re welcome to spend the night here. The sofa’s very comfortable, I fall asleep on it all the time!’
Amber’s offer surprised Seila. If people weren’t asking her a thousand questions, they were fleeing from her savagery and coldness. Amber seemed to take little notice of that, or of the fact that she had no soul. Perhaps she didn’t care about those things. Her offer seemed to come from a place of genuine compassion.
As though trying to match Amber’s hospitality, Damon added, ‘Yeah, you crash here tonight. I’ll take you to Tej in the morning. And then you can ask him all your questions, okay?’
Seila didn’t see that she had much choice. And rest certainly would be appreciated. ‘Thank you. I accept both of your offers.’
Amber and Damon worked together to right the coffee table and push the sofa back into position. While Damon straightened the pictures on the walls, Amber disappeared into her own bedroom and returned with an armful of thick, tartan blankets and a large pillow. She stacked them neatly on the sofa and turned to Seila. ‘Do you need anything else?’
Seila sat on the edge of the sofa, a little unsure, and shook her head. She was used to roughing it, and usually slept with the hard earth under her.
This was comparative luxury.
‘Bathroom’s on the left. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen,’ Amber said.
Seila nodded, but didn’t say anything. She’d just admitted she didn’t eat food, but appreciated Amber’s attempts to make her as comfortable as possible.
‘You want me to stay, too?’ Damon asked his sister.
Amber shook her head. ‘It’s okay. You didn’t need to come round at all.’
‘I ain’t leaving you by yourself after you phone me and tell me something like that! I’ll sleep in the bloody bathtub if I have to!’
His sister grinned. ‘You’d have been mad at me if I hadn’t called you! I’m not alone, anyway. I have Seila here.’
Damon snorted. ‘Yeah, well, I didn’t know that, did I?’
‘No, because you came racing over here to look after me before I could say anything more.’ She kissed him on the forehead. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Go home and get some rest. Drive safe.’
Damon did not appear convinced, but he was clearly tired. He looked around the apartment again, as if he expected to see a demon hidden away in a cupboard somewhere. ‘If...you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure. I’m fine.’
Seila watched their affection and a pang of longing rippled through her. She wondered what it would be like to be hugged. To have someone care for you unconditionally.
Eventually, after much back-and-forth, Damon left, and Amber locked the door behind him. Seila didn’t feel any safer here than she would in the middle of a field. If a demon wanted to get in, a small lock on a door wouldn’t dissuade it.
Amber bid her goodnight, and went into her own bedroom, leaving Seila alone in the dark.
She curled up in the corner of the sofa and pulled the heavy blankets over her. She instinctively listened for more demons, for their whispers, or the smell of their blood.
But as she drifted off to sleep, the only sound Seila heard over Amber’s soft snores was an owl hooting.
3
Seila woke to a pounding on the door.
It took her a few seconds to remember where she was and what had happened. Her legs were wrapped up in blankets, feet tangled up. Amber’s snores still carried through the wall, and Seila shoved the blankets off, got up from the sofa, and crossed the lounge to the front door. When she opened it, Damon peered down at her.
He looked just as dishevelled as he had several hours earlier, although he’d definitely taken a shower and put on a clean t-shirt—burnt orange, which clashed with his hair. ‘Where’s Amber?’
Seila rubbed away sleep and pointed. ‘Still snoring. She’s had a Soul Eater on her for who knows how long. She’ll probably need to rest for most of the day.’
Damon didn’t seem to believe that, because he pushed past Seila and knocked on Amber’s bedroom door. ‘Amber? Amber, are you okay?’
Snore.
‘I told you. I thought you knew about demons? What they could do?’
Damon ignored Seila and knocked again, louder this time. ‘Amber, it’s me. I’m going to come in.’ He pushed the door open and poked his head into his sister’s room.
Seila took the time to run her fingers through her hair, pulling the knots out of it. She stretched her arms above her head, rolled her shoulders, and took a while to peer out of the glass balcony door. Funny to think that not so long ago, she’d been hovering outside, ready to break in.
After Damon was satisfied Amber wasn’t in any danger, he exited
the room and gently closed her door behind him. ‘We’ll let her rest. I left her a note in case she wakes up. You ready?’
Seila nodded. Although he irritated her, he clearly cared a great deal for Amber, which she found rather endearing. Losing your parents to demons had that kind of effect, she supposed.
She followed him down the narrow apartment stairs and outside. The morning was bright and cool, perfect conditions for hunting demons. Damon led her to a white car, slightly rusted, and it seemed to have lost the rear half of it. It was also far too low to the ground. She stopped on the pavement and stared.
Damon patted the car’s roof like it was a dog, an enormous grin plastered on his face. It was so low, the roof hardly came up to his elbow. ‘This is Mathilda. Best Mk1 Caddy you’ve ever seen. I’ve been through so much with her the past few years.’
The notion baffled Seila. ‘You...gave your car a name?’
‘What, and you wouldn’t?’
Seila walked around the car, inspecting it carefully. Bits of paintwork had flaked away from the wheel arches and given way to bright orange rust. ‘Is it safe?’ She’d travelled in cars and trains before, in an attempt to fit in. But she’d long since given up on mingling with humans and simply flew to get around.
Her wings always trumped any other method of transport.
But this vehicle? It was something else altogether.
Damon scowled. ‘Safe? Of course she’s safe. Get in.’
Seila was less than sure, but she supposed she could always fly away if it fell apart while they drove along. With a sigh, she clambered into the passenger side and pulled the door shut. The handle came away in her hand.
Damon hastily grabbed it off her and put it back in, fixing it into place. ‘Yeah, that happens every now and then. I need to get it sorted. Don’t worry about it.’
Seila pulled her hands back and tucked her fingers under her thighs, afraid to touch anything else lest it fell apart. She had no idea about cars, but this one seemed particularly old. Everything was square. The lights were green. And despite the numerous air fresheners dangling from the rearview mirror, she could still smell dust.
