Infernal Hunt Complete Set

by Holly Evans

  Shadows, inky black and yet somehow flickering and burning like fire, were everywhere. They were human and yet entirely not, the silhouettes not quite right and the features shifting and shimmering, my eyes unable to settle on a single detail. An icy cold pain shot through my stomach. One of them was directly behind me. My breath caught in my chest as it withdrew the blade, if you could call it such, from my abdomen. I fought to expand my ribs and gasped for air. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I didn't know what they were or what I was supposed to do with them. I followed my instincts. My blades were in my hands before I'd even solidified the decision in my mind. I spun around and slashed at the empty space where the creature had been only seconds before.

  They shimmered in and out of existence, taunting us. Lysander had managed to stand after a long minute knelt on the floor next to me; I stood over him, guarding him. Ice cold cut through my leather jacket sending trails of pain down my skin, my muscles ached and screamed, but I would not be beaten. The sun managed to creep out from behind the thick clouds, the shadows warbled and screeched. Small holes formed in them, and I had an opportunity. I lunged and slashed at the closest, my blade sliding through where its throat would have been. A hole formed around the silver of my blade and stayed there. The shadow faded and disintegrated before me. A glance upwards told me that the sun wouldn't be with us for long.

  I was slow, exhausted, but determined. Lysander lashed out, snarled, and clawed at everything that got within reach. His usual elegant style had been replaced with desperation and aggression. His own pain laced mine, adding another layer of blurring to my thoughts and instincts. The shadows were slower, their flickering became more solidified. We hacked them into small pieces, their cold touch more bearable than it had been. When the sun slipped away once more, there was only one of the shadows left. Its face split open to show sharp fangs, tinged with red.

  It flew at me, all pretence of human form long since gone. It was a wraith, a black ghost of a figure, with a mouth to make a shark envious. I stood strong waiting for my moment, any energy to duck and dodge around it had faded. I had one good strike left in me. The pain was blunting my thoughts and clouding my hopes. Lysander stood wobbly at my side, blood staining his shirt, his eyes dulled. The wraith uttered an unearthly scream and dove straight at us, its teeth on course for my throat. Lysander leapt on it, somehow managing to drive it back. I followed suit and plunged my blades into its abdomen, tearing it open. Lysander’s claws shredded its chest. Together we tore it apart.

  We stood panting in the empty park. The sun came out over head, a bird started singing, all was right with the world again. For a fleeting moment at least.

  Lysander wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "I'm taking you home."

  I didn't have it in me to argue with him.

  I couldn't get warm. Chills wracked my body; agonising muscle spasms ran down my back while my teeth chattered. It wasn't that cold outside. It must have been the wraiths' attacks. Lysander held me close, his warmth radiated from him and took the edge off the coldness, but it wasn't enough. My eyelids felt heavy, they tugged downwards with the promise of a warm relaxing sleep.

  Lysander kept nudging me and bringing me back into a state of half-wakefulness. "Give me your phone, Evelyn, I'm not equipped to help you with this."

  I frowned and tried to pull myself back to full consciousness. My hands refused to react properly to my commands.

  I mumbled, "Left pocket."

  His hand slid down over my hip; a small smile slipped across my lips as warming thoughts filled my mind. His hot breath trickled down my neck as he leant over me, his hand squeezing into the tight pocket of my jeans to retrieve the phone. A flicker of disappointment trembled deep within my mind when he moved away from me. His voice sounded distant and slightly distorted. Sleep was calling to me. A little nap would do me some good, it would allow me to heal.

  I woke on Elise's sofa surrounded by candles with Lysander knelt next to me, my hand securely within his. The roughness of his skin offered an odd comfort, something I wanted to savour.

  "Evelyn. Oh, Evelyn, why must you insist on getting yourself into such trouble?"

  I frowned, trying to pinpoint the voice. Elise's face swam into sight hovering over me. "You've been unconscious for hours, we were worried about you. Lysander saved you."

  I squeezed his hand without thinking. Kadrix's voice came from somewhere behind me. "It was really quite fascinating, seeing the bond in action like that. You must let me investigate your hound a little more thoroughly. That fire of his has far more uses than I'd originally thought."

  My throat was dry and scratchy.

  I managed to say, "Mine."

  The warmth of Lysander's happiness filled me, a comforting strength that formed in my heart and slowly spread outwards, bringing me gently to full consciousness. It seemed the hound had some uses after all.

  "Evie, we were worried about you. What were you thinking?" Quin asked.

  I tried to sit up and said to Quin, "I was thinking I could save the city rather than sitting on my ass waiting for the hound to come to me."

  A hand held me down gently but firmly. I lay back down on the sofa and waited for everything to clear and come fully into focus.

  Kadrix said, "You really should have captured at least a piece of one of those wraiths, they're incredibly rare and would be very useful. I'd have paid you fairly for it, of course."

  I grunted in response, the damn elf was always thinking about his alchemy and money. Things weren’t entirely clear. The thoughts trickling in my mind may not even have been mine.

  I reached out and traced Lysander's jawline. "Thank you."

  The warmth of his happiness filled me once more. I was finally beginning to feel like myself again. This time, Lysander allowed me to sit up.

  Quin went to sit next to me, but Elise shooed him out of the way. "You can't rush into these things, Evie, you should know better by now."

  I gave her a small smile. "I'm a month older than you, and yet you sound like my mother."

  "You make me worry like I'm your mother!" she scolded.

  "If you've quite finished, we have serious business to attend to," Kadrix huffed.

  I gave him an impolite hand gesture. Lysander didn't react when the small curse hit the back of my head. Bloody elf.

  Lysander said, "The city is in a state of fear. The hound is succeeding, with the help of what must be a rather powerful coven of witches."

  "How are they doing all of those things?" I asked no one in particular.

  I didn't know such magic on that scale was possible. Just the storm, or the shadows, or the river was one thing. But to have everything all through the city was quite a feat; some part of me was impressed.

  Kadrix growled, "An old and powerful witch must have gathered together quite the coven."

  I couldn't resist.

  "Jealous?" I asked innocently.

  There was a rivalry between alchemists and witches, and it wasn't always friendly. Kadrix's ears turned an interesting shade of red, but whatever retort he may have had lined up was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Elise hurried away to answer it. The darkness outside suggested that it was far too late for a normal visitor.

  Lysander made himself comfortable on the floor at my feet. Quin fidgeted and kept glancing at Kadrix, who insisted on standing behind me. They were both making me nervous. Silver-edged voices carried into the room. I shrank down a little; I was in no place to deal with Sidhe. Kadrix walked around the sofa to stand by Quin. Lysander sat up a little taller. The last thing I wanted was Sidhe. No, that wasn't true, it could have been redcaps; at least Sidhe had some respect and intelligence about them. There was an interesting relationship between the Sidhe and the elves, one I'd never been able to discern. Kadrix had tensed and put himself between Quin and the door behind us.

  Elise walked into the room with Azfin and Haeyl close behind her. Azfin's golden-brown eyes settled on Lysander; sharp teeth
flashed between pale pink lips.

  "Good evening."

  His honey tones covered the dangerous predatory nature of the lithe creature that stood before us.

  I smiled sweetly, but Quin spoke for me; he had a much better way with the fae than I did.

  "And what brings you here this evening?" he asked.

  Haeyl's eyes refused to stay still. His gaze wandered over every inch of the room. Eventually they settled on Lysander, much to my annoyance. "Oh well, this and that. The city's been a little odd today, don't you think? We also heard there were a couple of hellhounds loose in the city..."

  "One loose," I said.

  Azfin took a step closer to me, Elise gave him a dark look that caused him to step back again and hold his hands up.

  Haeyl's eyes lingered on Lysander's silver collar.

  "You collared him?" he asked with no small amount of awe.

  Quin grinned at him. "She did."

  Azfin pursed his lips. "Now that has changed my view of you, Evelyn."

  Haeyl said, "We're here for bigger business."

  Quin shrugged and said, "We don't have many answers. We're quite sure that witches are behind today's activities. They're working with the other hound to open a hellmouth."

  Both of the Sidhe paled. "Well now, we can't have that. Elise, darling, what can we do to help?"

  I raised an eyebrow, had the Sidhe just willingly offered to help?

  Kadrix growled, "And what will your help cost?"

  "That's rather rich coming from you, elf,” Haeyl growled back.

  Elise said coldly, "Settle down, boys."

  The three fae all lowered their heads and paid her appropriate respect. No one messed with a priestess in her sanctuary.

  Lysander said, "We need a map of potential sites for the rituals."

  I ran my hand over his hair, a territorial gesture to ease my mind.

  Azfin gave me a sharp-toothed grin. "Worried I'll steal him?"

  I laughed, "Please, you couldn't take him if I handed him to you on a silver platter."

  His grin remained fixed on his face, but his eyes took on a threatening amber tone.

  Elise said sharply, "Enough. Azfin, a map would be very useful. We need to stop the hound before he can get any further."

  He bowed low; Haeyl followed suit. “We're yours to command, priestess."

  The Sidhe were very much themselves. They took up far too much room for such lithe little creatures. Kadrix refused to settle down, and Lysander growled any time they thought about getting what he thought was too close. After an hour of that, while they pored over maps, I left. Lysander was soon behind me, somewhere between a lost puppy and a guard dog. The sun began its ascent, streaking the horizon with more red and hints of fire. The city stirred beneath us, filled with shadows and rippling with fear. I couldn't allow them to win, I couldn't lose my home.

  We'd barely started down the path to the road when a pair of translucent people slipped out from behind the pillars in front of an over-priced café. Their eyes held the increasingly familiar red hue, their features were slightly distorted, but unlike the wraiths they were pale grey. The ghosts, for lack of a better understanding, sauntered up to us. My blades were in my hands before I'd even registered the motion. Lysander began snarling. I'd never dealt with spirits before. I had no idea if they could hurt us, but I intended on doing what I could to stop them from getting anywhere near me. They giggled, an eerie noise much like a breeze caressing dry leaves. Suddenly, mid-step, they vanished. The air temperature rose almost imperceptibly, my feet refused to move until I'd looked all around me trying to discern where they could possibly be. Lysander's growl finally ceased and we cautiously proceeded down the path. It was going to be a dark day. The feeling of helplessness was growing within me, and I planned on doing everything I could to shatter it.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket; I contemplated ignoring it, but it vibrated again. Quin and Elise had both texted me, and it was quickly followed up by Kadrix. All of them demanding that I return Lysander, as he was required.

  I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and said, "You've been summoned. Return to Elise; behave yourself."

  His mouth tugged downwards. His hand went to touch my hair, but he stopped himself.

  With a soft sigh, he said, "As you wish."

  His footsteps echoed around us on the cobblestones. I pushed the dark thoughts from my mind and wound my way down into the city proper. I wasn't going to sit around and wait for someone to hand me the key, it wasn't in my nature.

  More apparitions, ghosts, whatever they were, appeared as I made my way down the old road into Malá Strana. The streets were remarkably quiet, there were usually at least a few eager tourists and commuters in the area at that time of morning. Nothing stirred, nothing human at least. The shadows swelled and rippled, no doubt waiting for some poor fool to step into them. I tilted my head and watched for a minute as they spread outwards across the pale grey stones before they stopped and retreated, slowly moving, testing. I wasn't sure what held them back, but the desire to poke them and see what happened was particularly strong. The people were vanishing to somewhere, after all. The rasping giggling returned as more apparitions skipped down the middle of the road, causing a car to swerve and almost crash into a trdelník stall. The driver spat and cursed before he took off down the road with a screech of tyres.

  I wandered down over the Charles Bridge, hoping that something would come to mind, somewhere I could go to make myself useful. The river had returned to its usual colour, and the sky remained cloudless. The witches were taking a different tack that day. Clustered screams cut through my thoughts. I ran in the direction of it before I gave myself a chance to question the sanity of such a move. A group of young people in smart work clothes were huddled against the tall stone wall as a large shadowy hound snarled and stalked up to them. I put myself between the group and the hound. Its black lips were pulled back to reveal long red teeth; its red eyes glowed from the pitch black pelt. It shifted its weight back onto its hind legs, its muscles coiled, then it was gone.

  The people whispered to each other, disbelief threaded its way through their tone and words. I smiled in what I hoped was a friendly comforting way and told them to be on their way, but to avoid the shadows. It seemed that the witches were playing on people's minds, making them doubt what they saw.

  I wasn't in the mood to try and reach the neophyte coven again. My joints still ached a little from the wraith attack. After a moment, I remembered that a hedge-witch was close by with an herb and spice shop; hedge-witches were a separate entity to the main covens, but it was better than nothing. I was tired of being left in the dark and unable to do something productive. With a goal in mind, I strode down the old roads, past the beer restaurant, down another of the older narrow roads. The hedge-witch shop soon came into view; something in the back of my mind told me that the witch lived on the premises. I hoped so as I started banging on the front door.

  After a few good bangs the door slid open a few inches. My hand hurt, and I glared at the face that hid in the darkness.

  "You're a witch, yes?"

  Manners weren't something I had time or patience for, and I couldn't remember their name. Grey eyes narrowed at me, the thin line of the mouth narrowed. After a silent stand-off, the door opened revealing an older woman with greying hair and a deep scowl on her face. She ushered me inside, looking around before she locked the door behind us.

  "You're here about the shadows. I have no information for you."

  I put my shoulders back and held her gaze. She refused to look away.

  "I am a hedge-witch. I walked away from the crone. This is not my doing."

  Her accent became thicker as she became more agitated.

  "You're a magic user, surely you know something?"

  Her lips pursed and she gave a small nod. "There are rumours, of a hound and a hellmouth."

  I took a step closer to her; she flinched but didn't move away. "What is it you wan
t?"

  "I am leaving city. I will give you help, powders, in return for safe passage."

  "I have an alchemist, I can get powders."

  She paled a little. "The shadows, they can be defeated with gold powder. If you defeat the shadows, you take some of their power. They steal the people and use their life."

  "Gold powder...?"

  She pushed past me and squeezed past the over-flowing wooden dresser, with the peeling pale blue paint. Her hands flew over brightly coloured bottles and tugged on a small lever hidden behind a delicate crystal vase. The shelf pulled away from the wall, revealing a hidden store of darker bottles and containers. She pulled out a small slate box with some reverence.

  "I apply this to your blades, you help me escape. Deal?"

  "How do I know it'll work?"

  Her nostrils flared. "I need to leave now. I will go without you."

  I eyed the slate box. "Fine. Apply the powder."

  The witch worked remarkably quickly. She mumbled something about her cards having shown her that I'd turn up. I'd never appreciated the idea of witches being able to see the future. She thrust a leather satchel into my hands and returned my blades to me, covered in the gold dust that would destroy the shadows and anything infernal. Or so I'd been told. Apparently it only lasted twenty-four hours, though, which was very convenient, but I wasn't really in a place to argue. The satchel was full of little orbs in a myriad of colours; she had explained what each one did, but she'd gone over it so quickly that I missed half of it. I knew they were all offensive and would do damage to anything the witches might throw at us. That was all I really needed.

  With the satchel secured, she pushed me out the front door with a carpet bag. Her long grey cardigan sat over her knee length skirt with flat black knee-high boots; I had to wonder if stereotype was what she was aiming for. She scurried off down the road, her head swivelling around looking at everything. I jogged to catch up with her; she was spry for a seemingly little old lady. Her long bony fingers clutched onto her carpet bag as though her life depended on it, and I had little doubt that it did. I slipped my hand into the satchel and rolled one of the orbs around between my fingers. It buzzed at my touch and warmed. I pulled my hand back for fear of the entire bag exploding.