by LJ Swallow
Imperceptibly, Darius shakes his head. “Nothing demonic there. You really do mean him no harm, you strange, sad girl.”
I nod, holding my head as the stabbing pain colours the room with distorted rainbows. The out of focus Darius studies me through narrowed eyes before he resumes his seat behind the desk.
“I need one particular demon's soul. His name is Alexander, and he is responsible for the extensive operations in the area. The brains, you might say, as far as the stupid creatures can have brains. Take him out of the picture, bring me his soul, and you can have your Will.” The release of tension from his words spills out of my muscles, and I slump in my chair. Darius smirks. “That's if you still want your Will.”
“Why wouldn't I?” The answer hits me before I comprehend what I've said.
The crocodile smile flashes across Darius's face again. “No more human dalliances once you have your Will. You'll never see him again, your human, because there’ll be no more soul hunting in his world.”
I understand. Darius found someone who's determined enough to struggle to succeed on a tough assignment. A soul hunter who’ll risk everything for another chance at life in the human world. An image of Jack’s face and a memory of his arms around me return. Jack holding me, stroking my hair. I recall his scent from the last time we touched, bizarrely, the smell of safety. If Darius returns me, I’ll have extra time with Jack; but would more time with Jack make the situation worse? What if the dreams never leave me?
“Oh yes, by the way, I do need to warn you of one other possible complication.” Darius’s words jerk me back to the room again, and he gives me a tight smile.
Another complication besides powerful demons?
“We strongly suspect Nephilim are involved; they've been reported in the area too. Do not attempt to approach one if you see one.”
Nephilim. Powerful ex-angels, now half human and half demon with angel powers intact. Sided with the Demon Lords, Nephilim steal human souls for them and kill anybody who stands in their way. Their strength is beyond the demons they work with now, equal to the power of the Caelestia who once exiled them.
An enemy no soul hunter could ever survive against.
“You've paled, Dahlia. Is something wrong?”
“Nephilim.”
“I can wait and send someone else.” He picks up the file and taps it on the desk. You can collect your remaining souls elsewhere.”
He knows I won't say no; he's counting on it. Unable to respond, I shake my head.
Darius slaps his hands on the table, and my body jerks. Thankfully he's not angry; he's grinning. “Your human dalliances are perfect for this mission because this won't be a quick assignment. This could take months, and you'll probably need to kill many more demons before you reach the one we need. Lots of extra souls for you to collect, of course.”
Extra souls when I only owe you two. I chew the inside of my mouth. He's using me, using my abilities to go beyond the agreement, to collect more souls than I need to. I can’t refuse. Darius is clearly aware my connection to Jack overrides any doubt, and saying no to Darius is never an option.
11
DAHLIA
My time with Darius is short. I spend a couple of days alone, in the cell-like holding room soul hunters live in between missions. Interaction with other soul hunters—we don't speak to each other, or acknowledge each other. We live alone, exist alone, one hundred percent focused on achieving our target and turning away from servitude to freedom. I rarely see the same soul hunter twice.
Pictures hang on the wall in the cell, reminders of why we chose the path. Photographs of an impossible world of brightness, the world of Darius and the Caelestia, and in them are happy faces living comfortable lives, spurring us towards our next life-risking mission.
I return to in Leeds, and in my human room, I stare at the ceiling. There're no posters fixed to the wall here. In fact, there's little in my equally cell-like room. I have clothes, a laptop, a phone, and a variety of day-to-day human accessories. Hidden in the wardrobe are my soul hunter needs. Daggers. Soul crystals. The fact I’m back here at all confuses the hell out of me despite Darius’s explanation, but I only care that I’m here.
The minute I return, relief and fear vie for attention in my mind as I sink onto the bed. I have only one thought. Jack. Each time I think of him, my stomach flips over. I can see him, live his life for a while longer, and if I push aside the dangers I'm facing, and why I'm really here, I can even pretend I'm human.
First I need to find Jack and explain what he saw the night outside the pub. The niggling fear creeps in—he might not want me, and I've agreed to months of life in the hellish human world.
JACK
Three days since Dahlia disappeared in a flash of white light. Seriously, did that actually happen? Orange juice doesn't normally bring on hallucinations. Either that or she can run bloody fast. The magical disappearing light and the guy who threw electricity into my head aren't what bother me the most. Losing Dahlia does.
I went back to my room that evening bloody confused—and with a stinking headache. Unable to function with the sensation someone knifed me behind the eyes, I crawled into bed. I dreamt about Dahlia. Of course. Mixed into the dreams this time were flashbacks to what happened outside the pub, the strange guy dragging her away, and me pulling her back. Well, in my dream, I pulled her back. I feel pretty pathetic I didn't retaliate much in the real situation. But I guess retaliating was a bit tricky when electro-fingers zapped my brain.
Anyway, Dahlia's gone. Again. Deal with it. Already, things are foggy, and this time I acknowledge I won't see Dahlia again for months. If ever.
Which is why I'm currently staring in confusion at the back of Dahlia's head, as if an invasion of the body snatchers just happened. This isn't out of the realm of possibility, considering the demons and other stuff, but I know it's Dahlia from her hair and figure. Delicate Dahlia. I snort softly; she's anything but.
Dahlia stands outside the computer lab, staring at the noticeboard, running her finger down the exam timetable. The girl moves and brown hair spills as she reaches into the bag for a notebook. Definitely Dahlia. As usual, I lose the power of speech and of my legs as she turns and notices me.
Wide-eyed, pen in mouth, Dahlia stays where she is. Resisting my overwhelming urge to run up to, hug her, and behave like I'm some chick-flick guy reuniting with his lost love, I amble over. Dahlia smiles but her eyes don't; they betray her unease. Maybe she doesn't want to talk to me.
“I didn't expect to see you,” I say.
Dahlia removes the pen from her mouth and tucks it into her bag. “I didn't expect to come back here.”
Standing in the quiet corridor, the world morphs out of view again, and only Dahlia exists. Fear replaces unease and I realise she's misreading my stony expression.
“But I'm glad you came back.”
“Oh?” She breathes the word.
“Yeah. Of course.”
The smile finally reaches Dahlia's eyes and transforms her face to my Dahlia. “Good. Because I'm here for a while now.”
“A while? I thought you couldn't stay around?”
“They changed their minds and need me here.”
“Oh.” I say the word because I'm not sure if this is good or bad for her. It's amazing for me, but if her boss or whatever needs her here, it's because of demons. Which means there's more around—and demons aren't so amazing.
Kill demons. I smile wryly.
“What's funny?” she asks.
“Nothing. I'm happy you're here.”
“Even after...” She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, and the conversation is blanked from my head by the memory of my lips on Dahlia’s.
“Yeah, I think there's some stuff we need to talk about. Like Mr. Electro Fingers.”
Dahlia's brow creases in the cute way I want to kiss. “Who?”
“Your friend. Outside the pub.”
“Oh. Right. I have a lot of explaining, I guess.”
A strand of brown hair hangs across her face, and she blows at it. The hair remains so I reach out and smooth it back. Actually, it's an excuse to touch her, and I linger my fingers near her forehead. Momentarily Dahlia's face registers alarm, and then she reaches out.
“You're the one who can't see, Jack.” With soft, warm fingers, she pushes the hair above my eyes, brushing my skin with her fingertips. Instantly, my body buzzes with the desire to pull Dahlia’s face to mine and kiss her, and her face reflects the same.
“Hey, it's Dahlia. Whatcha doing back here?”
Great.
Dahlia drops her hand and stares at Kyle. I turn too, attempting to communicate a warning to him to leave us alone. Last time they met, Kyle ended up lying in an alleyway covered in demon.
“Trying to catch up on study,” she replies.
Kyle frowns, weighs things up for a few moments, then winks at me. “You'll be happy about that, hey?”
“Yeah. See you in class.” I stare at him pointedly.
“And Dahlia, she has a shit load to catch up on.” He pauses and winks at Dahlia. “And I don't mean just you, Jack.”
My embarrassing, scruffy friend saunters off.
“Why didn't he ask me?” blurts Dahlia, face darkening back to fear.
“About what?”
“The night with the… Phoebe.”
“He probably will. We'll have to come up with a good explanation.”
The heaviness leaves Dahlia’s face. “We. I like that.”
DAHLIA
Under the stern scrutiny of the teacher, I resume my old spot near the front of class and immerse myself in lab tasks. I want to sit with Jack, but the distraction over his physical presence and everything else unspoken between us wouldn't be conducive to study. Four months away from uni, and suddenly I’m back. How do the Caelestia manage to slot us in and out of human life without suspicion, looks like the Caelestia have influence everywhere, which opens up more questions. Do any humans know about this? Us?
Darius predicts my stay here will lead to the end of the campus year, which suits me, but also means I need to integrate a little more. I intend to spend more time at university with Jack. Learning computer science skills is a bonus in my hunting. I'm glad I chose this studying role originally. Demons are insidious; learning the best technology I can use to match their cunning is an asset.
After class, Jack and Kyle loiter outside, and a feeling of deja vu washes over me, although this time, I don't need to wait for a tongue-tied Jack to talk to me. I hesitate, refusing to look at Kyle, mostly because I'm scared of any question he might ask. Jack tells Kyle he'll see him later and shoves him in an unsubtle way. Kyle leaves. As he does, he glances back and his gaze reaches mine. I can't hold his confused expression and turn to Jack.
“Coffee and nachos are probably not a good idea,” says Jack, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Instantly, I redden remembering showering his food with my coffee. “No.”
“But you will spend time with and talk to me?”
“What time is it?”
The pull between Jack and my task already sets in. I need to start figuring out a plan of action, identify where this all-important demon is before he becomes aware and sends weaker demons after me.
Jack checks his phone. “Five p.m.”
I have an hour. Nothing can change in an hour. “I have stuff to do, but would love to catch up first.”
Listen to me, sounding so casual and human. Stuff. If only.
“You okay to sit outside for a bit? I can buy us some drinks,” he says.
“And chocolate?”
“If you want choc...” He pauses and pulls a face. “No. Just a drink?”
We wander out of the building, towards the quiet courtyard. The late spring sun warms me; I peel off my cardigan and tuck it into my messenger bag. The sun on my skin feels good, and I choose a bench in the warmth as I wait for Jack. I'm in for some gentle interrogation when he comes back, but I also know how to stop the questions.
As Jack returns, I take in his appearance and compare this to the memories I hold. His grey T-shirt stretches across his chest. He’s not broad and muscular; there's a litheness to his movements. Jack’s long legs are hugged by jeans in the right places. Scruffy and sexy, all in one package. He chews his lip as he approaches, and as he unscrews the bottle cap, I realise he's aware of my scrutiny. Removing the lid, Jack passes the drink to me before sitting and opening his.
“I can't stay long,” I tell him.
His hand curls around the bottle. “You said you were staying...”
“No, I mean this afternoon. I have things I need to organise, now that I'm back.”
“Sure. I understand. Those demons won't kill themselves.”
Wow. We’re here and so quickly. I look sideways at him; he's staring ahead, slurping his drink. Fine. I can go with this.
“It’s why I’m here. I have to plan.”
“Plan?”
“Yeah. I need to locate the demons. They don't normally randomly appear.”
“Like Phoebe?”
“Like that demon. Don't give it a name and humanise it.”
Jack scratches his head. “These conversations are weird.”
“No, you believing me is weird.” I shift around to face him.
“You think so? After what I saw? Huh.” He drinks.
We lapse into one of our silences again.
Jack leans forwards, elbows on his knees and looks sideway at me. “So how long are you back for?”
“I'm not sure. Maybe a couple of months.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Really? Wow, I thought, like, a couple of weeks or something.”
His reaction stirs the butterflies in my stomach. “Yes. Tough assignment.”
“Tough? And assignment makes it sound dangerous, Dahlia.”
I take a drink from my bottle. “This demon’s well hidden.”
The brown eyes regarding me soften with concern, which is endearing and unwarranted. I look up at the streaks of white cloud in the sky, hoping he sees this as a sign conversation on the subject over.
Jack's phone rings and he fumbles in his pocket, then swears as he reads the screen. He answers. “Yeah, sorry. I forgot.” He pauses as he listens. “Okay, I'll be there in five. Stop stressing.”
Shoving his phone in his pocket, Jack wrinkles his nose. “I forgot about something I had to do.”
“I gathered that.”
Brown eyes search my own, as if trying to look inside my head. “Everything went out of my mind this afternoon, when I saw you again.”
I don't know what to say. Jack takes my lack of response wrongly and pulls a disappointed face. He stands and turns, hovering as if wanting to say something else before he leaves.
I shade my eyes against the sun with my hand as I look up at him. “It's good to see you again too, Jack.”
The happiness spreading across Jack’s face is warmer than the sunshine.
12
DAHLIA
The demon's eyes sear into mine, bright yellow and hypnotic to humans, but harmless to me. Like Phoebe, this demon's appearance matches the age I appear to be; only he's taller and stockier than most human guys. His buzz cut hair and carefully chosen clothes ensure he's well integrated into human society. I hope to hell, he's not part of a new demon contingent on campus because he's attractive too.
I followed him tonight, expecting he'd lead me to some of his friends, but all he did was circle around the backstreets. Then I realised he knew I followed, so I deliberately found somewhere dark and quiet to wait for him. Demons can't resist a challenge, and as far as soul hunters go, I look like an easy kill.
The dumbass came after me.
Wrong move for him because now I have the creature pinned to the wall, and he’s not having the fun he thought. Unlike the small girl I appear to be, I have a firm grip and he's immobile. The blade of my dagger nicks his throat, and the thick black blood appears on his ski
n.
“You're not the one I'm looking for, but you'll do,” I say, slamming his head against the bricks to reinforce my point.
The yellow eyes betray nothing. “Yeah? Who ya’ looking for, little soul hunter?”
“Alexander.”
The creature laughs, the mocking tone pisses me off so I press the knife harder, enjoying the surprise in his widening eyes. He knows he's beaten, why pretend otherwise?
“Good luck with that. Even I don't know where he is.”
“Oh well, guess I'll just kill you and keep searching then.” I draw the knife back, ready to strike.
The disgusting creature places its forehead on mine. “You're insane. You really think a little thing like you can take on a big, bad demon like him? He'll rip your limbs off before you even pull your pathetic little knife out.”
I don’t have the time or patience for this and introduce the pathetic knife he’s talking about to his evil heart, twisting the blade as deep as I can. Smiling in satisfaction, I step back and let the body sink to the ground. Wiping the blade on the demon's jacket, I tuck the dagger back into my boot and pull out the soul crystal just in time. The creature’s head snaps back and the soul snakes upwards, forming a hovering grey cloud opposite me. Palm outward, soul crystal in the centre, I watch and wait.
Usually souls gravitate straight towards crystals, but recently some hesitate, which puzzles me because with my help, they're free from entrapment, and I return them to safety. This one hovers too, and I take the opportunity to study the soul. I've never noticed the energy that hums from within the cloud or the feeling there's someone with me. I guess souls are someone. Kind of. I'm not a hundred percent sure, all I know is they don't belong trapped in demons.
The attraction to the crystal overwhelms and the translucent grey cloud merges with the gem. The weight and warmth of the crystal indicates the job is done, and I tuck it into my pocket. Despite the glow of victory, I’m pissed off I didn’t acquire any new information about Alexander out of the demon I followed around half the bloody evening.
