by L. L. McNeil
‘Come. Now.’
She grimaced. It felt like the Elite Demon’s voice was so loud it would split her head open.
‘Seila?’ Fallow rose in her seat and touched a hand to her shoulder.
She pulled away. ‘I’m fine.’ Once the Elite was taken care of, everything would be better again. She’d have peace and quiet in her own mind. Maybe she’d even have her soul.
If she dared hope.
‘I...am...here…’
Seila and Fallow stood up as a second demonic voice answered the first.
‘What’s going on?’ Damon asked, also getting to his feet.
Seila summoned her blade and her wings flickered into view. ‘A demon. Here.’
‘What? No way! There’s too many people!’ Damon peered down into the dark audience, fists at his side.
Over the lights, singing, and movement on stage, it was difficult to see the demon that had arrived. But Seila heard it. She knew it was here. ‘Yeah, well, that bracelet of Tej’s has started something. This Elite Demon is calling others. Looks like a big one’s replied.’
A demon so bold as to attack a theatre with several hundred people was unheard of, but that was the influence of the Elite. And just her luck it wasn’t something weaker like a Leech or Stinger.
Screaming drowned out Damon’s reply, and Seila was in the air in a heartbeat.
‘Seila! Wait!’ Fallow cried after her, but Seila had switched into hunting mode and ignored her call. She passed through Fallow’s enchantments, felt the feather-light tingle on her skin, and swooped down to the back row. The audience members struggled to get to their feet and get away from the enormous shadow that now threatened them.
She knew it was unprecedented. Knew they’d be rushing around in blind panic.
Seila saw the glint of claws reflected from the stage lights, and charged towards them. ‘Get back, demon!’
The dark shape twisted, leaving its intended target and rising to meet Seila’s attack. ‘I...feed…’
‘Not here, you don’t!’ She yelled, slashing her sword.
In the dark, her aim was off, but the demon backed up to avoid the strike, snarling all the while.
She couldn’t see what it was, but it was no Leech or Stinger. This was much bigger, a predator in its own right, not one of the smaller scavengers or parasites. Seila hovered, using her wings to block the demon from the fleeing audience.
Screams rippled through the entire theatre, the main lights came on, and Seila had her first look at her challenge.
A Prowler.
It had a thick, sinuous body, massive jaws and shoulders, and a long, powerful tail. She likened Prowlers to half giant lizard, half big cat. They didn’t have eyes, either. It was easy to see how they’d earned their nickname: Shadow Striker. The Prowler stalked on all fours, its talons digging into the theatre floor, tail lashing as it sensed its surroundings, searching for food. For humans. And if she wasn’t careful: for her.
This was a type of demon that had given her no end of trouble before. The closest they’d ever come to built up areas was a farm.
Her theory was true, then. The Elite Demon, the voice from the bracelet, had been summoning other demons here. It was why the Prowler was in the middle of so many people, and acting so out of character.
Lesser Demons obeyed Elites.
She hoped now that she’d spotted it, she’d have the advantage. Prowlers ambushed their prey from the shadows, and this one was now in full view. Seila brandished her sword. ‘Get back.’
‘I am waiting. Come.’ The Elite Demon’s voice was relentless, even in the chaos.
The Prowler jerked away at the demonic command and let out a hiss in reply. ‘I am here…I feed.’
Seila didn’t give it time to argue with whoever commanded it. She flapped her wings and hurtled down, her sword levelled at the Prowler’s head.
The demon snarled and lunged forward, its attack scarily accurate considering it couldn’t see her.
Seila thrust her sword forward and twisted away to avoid the Prowler’s massive claws. Both blade and demon collided, and Seila drew a thin streak of tar-like blood from the demon’s hide as its claws raked her thigh.
She winced, but couldn’t look at her wound. She arced around in the air, ready to attack the Prowler again. It lifted itself up onto its rear legs, exposing its armoured chest and muscled forelimbs. The demon roared, opening its jaws wide and baring long fangs. Seila aimed higher, intent on severing its neck, but the demon seemed like an old pro at fighting, and slashed with its front legs before she could get close enough. Fully extended, its front legs were longer than her Sieken Blade, and kept her sword out of reach.
Above the screams around her, Seila heard her name being called. Probably Fallow or Damon, she couldn’t quite tell. Blood pumped in her ears, drowning out almost everything but the battle in front of her. Her thigh wound stung, and she wouldn’t be surprised if it bled, but she couldn’t stop.
One wrong move and the demon would impale her on it’s talons.
As she shot forward for another attack, the Prowler dropped back to all fours and span, slamming its tail into Seila’s chest and knocking her back into the now empty theatre seats. The impact forced the breath from her, and she dropped her sword.
The Prowler roared again, a victorious, guttural, bone-chilling noise that went straight through her.
She was bleeding now, could feel the heat flow down her leg, wetting the floor under her. The demon approached slowly, placing one heavy foot down and sniffing the air before taking another step. Its talons scraped on the theatre floor, gouging lines in the carpet and sending shivers down her spine.
It would be attracted to her now. No longer something to fight, she was prey.
She shoved herself off the velvet seats and grabbed her Sieken Blade, levelling it at the demon. It had absorbed the little blood it had drawn, but as the demon still lived, Seila hadn’t taken on any of its power. Her injured leg trembled, but she stood firm. ‘Come and try, demon.’ She spat blood. The impact against the seats had knocked a tooth loose.
‘Feed…’
Seila scowled and braced herself. Prowlers were powerful. There was a reason she’d hardly fought any before now. She grasped the hilt of her sword with both hands. If this was her end, so be it. But she’d go down fighting.
The Prowler lurched forward, keeping its head low to snap at her. Seila beat her wings to jump above its strike, then plunged her sword straight down into the demon’s back. The tip of the blade hit its mark, but the demon’s hide was too thick to pierce, and it glanced off the creature’s heavier scales. It snarled and thrashed, throwing Seila off in the opposite direction.
She caught herself mid-air and righted herself, but the demon seemed markedly less keen on finishing the job now. It crouched near the seats where she’d fallen, tongue tasting her blood.
‘I am waiting. Come.’
The Prowler hesitated, caught between two instincts. Feed or obey.
The theatre had quieted as it emptied of screaming people. That was good. Fewer people would have had the chance to take a good look at the demon in their haste to get away. She hoped.
Seila grit her teeth. She’d finish this now. Taking in a steadying breath, she flew towards it, sword aimed for the wound she’d inflicted on its shoulder. She careened forward, but the Prowler snarled, slashing forward at the last minute and causing Seila to twist away and avoid another blow from its claws.
Finished with her blood, the demon lumbered after her, tail thrashing into the theatre seats, flinging them off their hinges. Seila kept high, out of range of its talons and tail, avoiding the carnage it caused. She swallowed and couldn’t help but think that she could do with a Fire Elemental in the fray right about now.
She looked back up to the box, but it was empty. Whether that was Fallow’s enchantment or they really had left, she didn’t know. Crowds of people bottlenecked at the exits, shouting and screaming in their desperation to escape. If Fallow and Damon
were on their way to help, they needed to push through a wave of people.
But if she’d waited for them before attacking the Prowler, she was certain it would have killed someone.
Her thigh burned, the wound throbbing, but there was nothing she could do about it now. It was a beacon for the demon, and it followed her, intent on a meal.
Taking an aggressive stance in the hopes of driving it away, she dived towards it, her sword glancing off the Prowler’s armoured head. She dodged another swipe. For a creature so large, it moved quickly, countered everything she did, and Seila soon sported half a dozen slashes and scrapes along her arms.
Weakening, she dropped to the floor, but kept her sword high. It had been far too long since she’d fought anything this tough.
‘Feed...now…’
Seila snarled in response. She refused to be the demon’s next meal. ‘Just come and try!’ She held the sword out, daring it to charge straight into her. She slid her feet apart, bent her knees a little, turned to face slightly away from it, her shoulder presenting the biggest target.
The Prowler met her challenge with a deafening bellow, then hurtled forward. Seila braced herself for impact, narrowed her eyes, and waited for the perfect moment to strike.
As it gained on her, closing the gap in huge strides, Seila darted forward, pressing the sword ahead to catch the demon square in the throat. Her Sieken Blade skipped off the demon’s hide and caught into its neck, drawing more blood and filling her nose with the scent of burning.
The demon screamed again, rolling its head from side to side to shove the sword away as it backed off, trailing tar-like blood on the floor.
Seila grinned. This was it. She had it on the run, now. Adrenaline gave her strength and speed, and she raced ahead, her sword arcing towards it. The demon’s head snaked out faster than Seila realised, its jaws clamping onto the blade and biting down.
Seila skidded to a halt, heels digging into the floor, and she pulled her sword, but the demon’s fangs held it fast. The two snarled at one another, locked in a tug-of-war over the sword.
It growled in response, low and rumbling, the sound vibrating through Seila’s wrists and arms where she grasped the hilt.
She pulled harder, fingers slipping on the sword’s hilt, but she refused to let go. Her lip curled. She grabbed hold of the demon with her mind and pushed hard. She bit down with everything she had, the demon’s presence a wall of muscled power, and forced it back as far as she could.
Both Phantom and demon pulled and pushed, neither willing to give in to the other.
Seila realised an instant later that she had the advantage. Bracing herself, she let go of the sword, the blade disappearing in an instant. The Prowler threw itself back across the theatre where it slammed into the far wall.
Panting, Seila took a step forward, balled her right hand into a fist, and the sword re-materialised in her grasp.
The demon struggled to its feet, covered in dust and bits of wall that had collapsed around it. It shook itself clear, stepped away from the debris, and growled again. It lingered, breathing heavily, as though trying to decide whether or not to try again.
Finally, the Prowler decided enough was enough. It turned away from Seila and limped to the exit, blood dripping from its left shoulder where her first strike had made its mark and leaving the scent of bonfires in its wake.
Seila sank to her knees, her wings and sword disappearing as she relaxed. Pain laced through her thigh and she clutched both hands to it. Thankfully the Prowler’s talons had caught the meat of her leg and not any arteries.
‘Seila!’
She looked up, blearily. It was Fallow. Damon raced along behind her, brows knitted in concern.
‘It’s gone. I hurt it...a little.’ Seila didn’t like how ragged her breathing was. She’d spent too long hunting vermin and hadn’t properly challenged herself with the bigger demons out there.
‘And the humans?’ Fallow asked.
Seila shook her head. ‘They fled. But there will be lots of them outside. Sitting targets.’
Fallow nodded gravely, and helped Seila to her feet. ‘I’m never going to hear the end of this.’
‘Well, I saw it off. No-one died,’ Seila said.
‘True, but my Kouzlo are supposed to keep demons out of the city. Not dart in at the last minute to prevent an attack.’
‘Your leg!’ Damon gasped.
Seila took a hesitant step forward, carried her weight, and then nodded through the searing pain. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Fallow didn’t let go of her arm. ‘Wait a moment. Let me give you something. To help.’
Light flooded from Fallow’s fingertips and into Seila, not unlike when she’d awakened Damon’s power. She took several breaths, found she could breathe more deeply with each one. The trembling in her leg stopped, and the wound began to close before her eyes.
When Fallow let go, Seila took a step back to inspect what the Enchantress had done.
‘There. I’m no healer, but I can spare a little energy to help you on your way.’
Seila tentatively touched the wound on her thigh, eyes wide. It had closed and was already beginning to scar over. She didn’t really think Fallow had the energy to spare, but she’d be lying if she didn’t say she was grateful. ‘Did you know that Prowler was going to attack? Was that why you brought us here?’ She couldn’t keep the accusation from her voice. If Fallow had known, then surely keeping them informed would have been better than a blind test!
Fallow didn’t answer. She was breathing heavily—from sharing her energy, Seila assumed. The Enchantress said, ‘Did you hear the demon’s voice? The one who keeps summoning others?’
‘This the Elite you all keep talking about?’ Damon asked.
Seila grimaced. She’d already made up her mind about Fallow. But now she had some of her strength back thanks to Fallow’s rudimentary healing, she was ready to head off. ‘We better keep pushing. If we follow that Prowler, it might lead us to the Elite. It’s our best bet.’
‘Follow a demon?’ Damon asked, incredulous. ‘Do you know how dangerous one of their lairs is? What if there’s more of them in there?’
‘Think how dangerous it would be if they’re allowed to roam free.’ Seila wasn’t sure of her chances against an Elite Demon considering she’d almost became a Prowler’s supper, but she had no choice. ‘There aren’t any Kouzlo here to stop them. It’s just us. Even I can’t stop an infestation of Prowlers, plus whatever else the Elite has obeying him. Need to nip it in the bud.’
If the Elite had given Fallow so much grief, had constantly slipped under the radar, this was her chance to discover where it was. What it was.
Her chance to see if this was the demon that had her soul.
She needed to put a stop to it now, before all of Fernhampton—all of London—succumbed to its power. ‘Let’s go.’
11
Rain slapped against the street, masking sounds and smells.
Seila cursed England’s frequent downpours as she tried to look for where the Prowler had disappeared, the moisture in the air dampening the smell of its blood. People crowded together, huddled under jackets and umbrellas. Most were on their phones, almost shouting into them, or frantically typing away messages. Some cried, sobbing huge tears, many hugged one another. Sirens blared in the distance, their wails echoing across London.
Police. Ambulance. Fire. They’d all be there soon, and then news crews. Residents were already pouring out of their houses, eager to see what was causing the commotion. They all talked loudly and gestured for others to join them.
Seila hated people sometimes. At least that was Fallow’s area of expertise. She was the one in charge of the special unit meant to keep people safe from demons. Idly, Seila wondered what would happen if Fallow kept failing. Perhaps other demon hunters would kick her out of her house and move in?
Then again, considering how rare demon attacks were in cities, Fallow and her Kouzlo had been doing a good job for a f
ew centuries. It was a minor slip-up. And no-one had died.
Yet.
‘Amber?’ Damon said.
Seila whirled around to see him on his phone.
‘Yeah, yeah, that’s right. What! You as well? Are you okay? Yeah, there was one here, too. No, we’re fine. Yes, she’s here. Oh, you don’t have to. No, really. No? Right. Fine. Bye.’ He clicked to end the call and shoved his phone in his pocket. ‘Tej and Amber are on their way.’
‘How do they know what happened?’ Seila asked.
‘Tej still has the damned bracelet. Apparently it went red hot. Practically burned a hole through his coat. Amber saw a demon at the back of the restaurant. No clue if its the same one or not. I bloody hope not. Never seen one as big as that before.’
‘Prowler,’ Seila said. ‘Not like your standard, run-of-the-mill parasites. These things’d give a tiger a run for its money.’
Damon actually took a step back.
‘Lucky for us, they usually hunt alone. They don’t swarm like Leeches or Stingers. Don’t need to.’ Seila wasn’t sure if that reassured him or frightened him more.
‘Just one is enough, thanks,’ Damon said, his voice thin. He shuddered, lifting his jacket over his head to cover himself from the drizzle. ‘Don’t forget, we ain’t used to seeing these things. Or knowing what they can do.’
Seila shrugged. Try as she might, she couldn’t pick up the Prowler’s tracks.
‘I’m waiting. Come to me.’
Seila huffed at the Elite Demon’s voice, and even Fallow stiffened.
Blue flashing lights lit up the sky as an ambulance pulled around the corner. Seila frowned. ‘We should move away.’
A black cat meowed from a short way down the street.
‘Soto, how kind.’ Fallow said. ‘He’s seen somewhere safe for us to wait for the others. Follow him.’
Seila and Damon hurried after the Enchantress and her Familiar as more and more people arrived on the scene. Soto led them down a side street parallel to where Damon had parked, and took shelter from the rain under the leaves of a large cherry tree.
Overhead, Sierra hooted.
