Crimson Eyes

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Crimson Eyes Page 19

by L. L. McNeil


  ‘I’d gladly accept your help,’ Fallow said. ‘Seila? Will you stay and fight with us, too? Join your friends against the demon scourge?’

  Seila knew the question was coming, but she still didn’t like being asked. Reporting to someone, listening to their rules. She didn’t play well with others, never had. But she had to admit that without them, she’d have struggled far more.

  Besides, she could always fly away if things turned sour. Or if Fallow didn’t help her find her soul, as promised.

  She glanced at Fallow and looked away quickly when she saw the Enchantress’s eyes boring into hers. Perhaps she knew already that Seila would leave if she wanted. In the end, Seila went for the truth. It was the safest answer. ‘We have a bargain, Fallow. I’ll stay as long as I benefit. I want my soul. If you can line up the demons for me, I’ll happily take them down.’ And by the time she encountered her next Elite Demon, she’d be ready. ‘And you’ll tell me all you know.’

  ‘Next time it won’t be so hard,’ Delgo said. ‘I’ll help Fallow recover. We have the time to do it, now that Sekki’s gone. Once she’s back at full strength, it’ll make everything easier. We have more Kouzlo incoming, too.’

  ‘Who?’ Damon asked. ‘Claes?’

  Delgo nodded. ‘And Lady Tress, too. Both should be here in a few days.’

  ‘About time. We need the back up. I’ve sorely missed Tress’s axes,’ Fallow said. She sipped her hot chocolate and sank a little lower into the blankets. She closed her eyes, brows furrowed in pain.

  Seila hoped Fallow recovered quickly. There was something about the Enchantress, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, that she needed to know more about. Perhaps it was her magic, her knowledge, her experience of demons over the past few hundred years. She’d grown up in France, lived in Switzerland for a time, flown all across Europe, before setting up her own Kouzlo in Fernhampton to protect London and the south of England. She’d brought a Djinni back from the brink of death, had recruited numerous demon hunters, managed to get them all to work together. What other Elite Demons had she seen before? What other Phantoms? She’d promised to tell her all that and more.

  But there would be time enough later for questions. Fallow needed to recover, first.

  Seila had waited years. She could wait a little while longer.

  Fallow opened her eyes suddenly and said, ‘Sierra’s seen something. A small infestation to the south of Fernhampton. Dragora, this time. Do you need to rest now, or can you look into it?’

  Seila stood up. ‘I’m always ready for a demon hunt.’ And if she didn’t, her fate would be the same as those taken by Soul Eaters. She couldn’t rest on her laurels. Not now, not ever.

  ‘Me too.’ Damon was on his feet in a heartbeat, fists clenched, a wide grin on his face.

  ‘I’ll drive.’ Tej pulled the keys from his pocket.

  Seila wondered what Claes and Tress were like, what she stood to learn from them. She got into the car as Tej fired the engine back into life, deciding to reserve her energy until they reached the demons.

  She still had reservations about the Kouzlo, of course. She didn’t want them to slow her down. But with Tej driving them through town to hunt down more demons, she had to admit, she was ready to take on the challenge.

  Now that London’s Kouzlo was coming back into its full strength, with Fallow having time to rebuild her formidable powers. Now that she had decided to ally herself with her band of hunters.

  The demons wouldn’t know what hit them.

  Continued in Book 2: Crimson Bone

  (Keep turning the pages for a sneak preview of the second book!)

  Note from the author

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  Sneak Peek: Book 2 - Crimson Bone

  A double column of fire whooshed up, sending frightened pigeons bursting from the trees and soaring high. The flames crackled and spat, embers thrown off in all directions.

  Seila opened one eye, shifted her position, then went back to her meditation. She sat cross-legged on top of one of the many pillars in the vast gardens of Caramond House, searching for the tell-tale signs of demons nearby. Although there were plenty of eyes around, she’d never felt completely comfortable with relying on someone else to raise the alarm. Every morning and evening, and several times throughout the day, she closed her eyes and listened for their voices.

  She’d always been able to hear them. The whispers of their desires—usually to feed.

  Although Caramond House belonged to a powerful Enchantress, and thusly had all sorts of protective spells over it, Seila could sometimes hear the demons in this quiet corner of the gardens. She didn’t think it was a break in the spell, as such, but it appeared to be thin enough for her to listen through it and hear the demonic activity that lurked on their doorstep.

  ‘Again.’

  The brusque, thickly accented voice of Claes demanded.

  Seila frowned, focused on keeping her eyes shut to the distractions.

  An intake of breath, a groan of effort, and then another whoosh of fire.

  Damon had been training with Claes ever since the other Kouzlo Leader returned. Both were Fire Elementals—although Damon was half, as he kept reminding everyone when his fires raged out of control—and Claes was also a Master Runesmith. Since completing a sealing rune and cutting off the power to an Elite Demon called Sekki, Damon had fancied himself as something of a runeworker, too.

  Claes seemed on a personal mission to put that right.

  Across the gardens, near the tall hedge maze, Tej fired his crossbow at several ceramic jars and pots, laid out by Delgo. The Djinni repaired the pots after every successful shot, and altered their forms. Sometimes they were taller, thinner, other times they were smaller, more rounded. He challenged Tej’s accuracy and speed over and over again with a simple flick of his wrist. A burst of purple smoke appeared whenever he used his magic.

  Seila’s brows trembled with the effort of keeping her eyes shut in the midst of all the activity around her. The Kouzlo were coming back in force, it seemed, and she couldn’t get a minute of peace if she wanted to be outside.

  She missed Amber, who’d returned to University to continue with the second year of her Bioengineering degree. Ever practical, Amber had been the voice of wisdom and reason when it came to controlling Damon and Tej’s stupid impulses. But after she had narrowly survived the encounter with Sekki and his army of demons, perhaps it was for the best that she took a little time out for her studies.

  ‘Watch out!’ Damon roared.

  Seila’s eyes opened in a flash, and she saw the column of flames sweeping across the grounds straight towards her. With a curse, Seila’s wings materialised, the black feathers beating and lifting her into the sky. Avoiding the fire by inches, she smelled the bottom of her jeans singe. ‘Damon! I thought you were learning to control it!’

  Damon’s fingers were alight, his eyes wide in terror. When he saw Seila avoid his attack, he disintegrated into fits of laughter. ‘Barbecued Seila would be interesting to see!’

  She scowled, still hovering in the air several feet above them. ‘It’s not funny, Damon. You nearly set me on fire!’

  Damon couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around his ribs, cackling.

  Seila held out her right hand, clenched her fist tight, and smiled as her Siek
en Blade materialised in her fingers. ‘How about I cut off your hands, Damon? That’ll be funny, won’t it?’ She dove for him, blade levelled and ready. It was a feint, but she needed him to realise that she wasn’t to be a target of his training.

  Damon rolled away, avoiding her strike. Her blade caught the top of his shirt, cutting into the collar but missing skin. ‘Hey! Hey! I was only joking!’

  Seila landed a few steps away from him, whirled around, sword held up as if ready for another strike. ‘Either you figure out how to control your fire, or I’ll take it away from you.’

  Claes came over, grabbed Damon by the scruff, and hauled him to his feet. He patted him down, roughly brushing away mud and dirt from the grass. ‘Seila is right. You have been training with me for two weeks and you’re no better than on day one.’ The Master Runesmith was tall, broad at the shoulders and waist, with a thick moustache and a wild mane of dark hair. Blue tattoos ringed his biceps and wrists. Soot seemed to perpetually coat patches of his skin, and the stuff smeared across his forehead, too. He peered at Damon with piercing blue eyes.

  Seila liked him because he called her by her name, instead of calling her Phantom.

  Damon shoved Claes away, straightened his shirt, and scowled at them both. ‘You’ve had your whole life to get used to it! I only found out about my fire two weeks ago!’

  Seila shrugged, releasing her grip on the blade and letting it vanish. ‘Then you better learn quickly and stop boasting about how awesome you are.’

  ‘It ain’t easy, Miss Phantom!’ Damon replied. ‘I’m at work all day, then here all night. I spend every weekend here, every spare minute. I’ve practically moved in!’

  ‘Then stop working and train through the day.’

  Damon shook his head. ‘Oh, yeah, I would, you know. Except for one thing.’

  Seila raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I got bills to pay! I’m sorry but I have to go to work like normal people.’

  ‘The Kouzlo are funded,’ Claes said. ‘You don’t need to work. And you need to practice more.’

  Damon rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, so you’ve said. I don’t take no handouts, either.’

  Seila sighed. Damon always had the annoying habit of making things more difficult for himself, of making a small problem seem far larger than it was. It was like he looked at the options in front of him and purposely chose the most difficult path every single time.

  She missed Amber.

  ‘For someone with two weeks’ experience, I think he’s doing very well.’

  Seila looked over her shoulder at the young girl who approached them. She hadn’t seen her before, but her aura felt familiar, not unlike Fallow.

  The girl wore a cream robe in contrast to her dark skin, and she had to be fifteen or sixteen. Maybe younger. She was quite a petite thing, and Seila thought a strong breeze might blow her over. Her brown eyes were bright, and glanced over each of them in turn.

  Claes inclined his head. ‘Ashante. I didn’t know you were back.’

  ‘Cosimo was getting on my nerves,’ she said with a wicked grin. ‘I heard Fallow was hurt?’

  ‘Not hurt. Just worn out much of her power,’ Claes replied. He folded his arms and glanced over at Damon. ‘Come on, come on, back to work. I wanna see that column twice the height and perfectly straight.’

  Damon huffed, rolled his eyes, but turned away from them and raised his hands without actual complaint.

  ‘You must be Seila? A Phantom? Truly?’ Ashante said, taking another step closer.

  Although the young girl had brown eyes in contrast to Fallow’s green,, Seila thought her stare was much the same as the Enchantress’. As if she could somehow peer right through her and watch her thoughts as they were created. Seila took a step back. ‘I am. Are you an Enchantress, too?’

  Ashante grinned, and some of her intensity faded. ‘Yes. I met Fallow a few years ago, and I help her out every now and then. My areas are a little different to hers, though. I’m the best tracker you’ll ever meet. And there are many Kouzlo back home, so I thought I’d come over and bring my skills with me. Fallow’s been desperate for a while.’

  Claes glared at her, as if she’d given away some great secret, but didn’t say anything.

  Seila tilted her head. ‘Where’s home for you?’

  ‘Senegal.’

  Seila’s eyes widened. That was quite some way away. Were demons such a problem in this dimension that Kouzlo were needed all around the world to keep them at bay?

  ‘We have our share of demons everywhere,’ Ashante said, with that irritating Enchantress ability of apparently seeing her thoughts. ‘But as I said, there are many Kouzlo back home, and fewer here. Fallow helped me out a while back, so it’s only fair to return the favour.’

  Seila wondered what Fallow’s history was with the Kouzlo. Delgo, she’d rescued. Ashante, she’d helped out. Claes, she could only imagine. And she’d pretty much gathered up herself, Tej, Damon, and Amber in the face of a new Elite Demon. Considering Phantoms never worked with the Kouzlo, either she was something special, or Fallow was. Seila was betting on Fallow being the special one.

  ‘How long have you been here?’ Ashante asked, watching Seila with the intensity of a hawk.

  Seila rolled her shoulders, took another step away. ‘As long as Damon’s been training. Fallow promised me demons to kill, so I’ll be here as long as that promise is fulfilled.’

  Ashante nodded. ‘Well, I’m grateful for your help. I’m sure you’ll get your soul soon.’

  Seila gasped. She hadn’t told Ashante. Had she deduced it? Could she tell that she was soulless?

  Ashante smiled. ‘I’ll leave you to your training. Claes, might we speak?’

  Seila watched the big man go off with Ashante, and wondered if perhaps the Enchantress was royalty, or came from some noble blood. Or perhaps the easy grace and warmth in her voice was simply something that united all Enchantresses.

  As soon as the two had left the gardens and entered the house, Damon stalked over. He brushed off ash from his hands, sending up a small cloud of the stuff. He wiped his sweaty brow with a forearm and shook his head. ‘How long did it take ya to kill demons?’

  Seila continued to watch the spot where Ashante and Claes had disappeared. ‘Always.’

  ‘No, I mean like efficiently. Like how you were against Sekki’s demons.’

  Seila looked at him. ‘Always.’ She stalked past, headed back to her pillar where she could think quietly.

  ‘Oh. Right. Of course, always.’

  She could practically hear his eye roll, but ignored him. She’d told the truth. She couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t killing demons. She’d always been able to hear them, hunt them. Her earliest memory, bar the nightmare of losing her soul, if she concentrated hard enough to recall, was waking up in a field, her wings sprawled out behind her, her Sieken Blade in her hand, and the corpses of dozens of demons around her. The smell of their tar-like blood was thick and heavy, like a bonfire burned to ashes.

  And the crushing realisation that she was empty. She’d lost emotions, memories, an identity. Her soul. All that remained was the insatiable drive to slay demons, hunt them down, and reclaim what she’d lost.

  She spread her wings and lifted into the air. Seila landed gently on top of the pillar, and sat down, letting her legs dangle. Only the two pillars by the gates to Caramond House held dragon statues. All the others were flat-topped and perfect vantage points without having to stay airborne.

  The fact it was a particularly quiet spot was a bonus.

  For now, demons were quiet. Either that, or she was struggling to hear through Fallow’s spells and enchantments over Caramond House. It truly was a refuge for her, and those like her.

  The Kouzlo.

  She settled down, shifting until she was more comfortable—no easy feat considering it was cold marble—and closed her eyes. Damon, Tej, and Delgo continued to work together. The crunch of shattering ceramics punctuated
the air every few seconds. Tej work methodically, rhythmically, and Seila could predict when his next bolt would hit its target.

  It helped ease her into a light meditation. She relaxed, opened her mind to her surroundings. She was extremely aware of Delgo, Tej, and Damon outside with her. Soto prowled the gardens, too, but she couldn’t tell exactly where—only a rough direction of where Fallow’s Familiar lurked. Sierra was nowhere near, and hadn’t been since Fallow had left. Seila supposed Fallow had taken the owl with her, wherever she’d gone.

  Where did an Enchantress go to restore their magic? She’d said Caramond House was her base. Was there somewhere else? Hadn’t her home dimension been destroyed by demons, too? Like Delgo’s had been?

  Seila pictured Fallow in her mind, as clearly as she could. Her green eyes were striking. Filled with emotion and yet a steely hardness. They seemed to look right through her.

  She felt something to her right. A kind of magic that stirred up the air, created a current. Or pressure. Then a crackle of electricity. Seila opened her eyes and looked. The tiniest hint of smoke twisted a couple of feet above the grass. More mist, than anything else. She squinted. It appeared white, or colourless. It wasn’t Delgo’s purple or demonic black.

  ‘Delgo,’ Seila called. The Djinni would know what it was, if anyone would.

  With all of Fallow’s enchantments in place, she didn’t think a demon could materialise inside the grounds of Caramond House, even if it was an Elite. She kept panic at bay, but she didn’t like the uncertainty of it. She slid off the pillar, used her wings to slow her descent, and brandished her sword at the swirling mist.

  It had grown in the few seconds she’d been watching it, and by the time Delgo and Tej arrived, it had doubled in size. ‘Ah. Nothing to worry about. But you might want to drop to your knees,’ Delgo said, his golden eyes twinkling.

 

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