by LJ Swallow
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Fill me in?”
“They pretty much said. Dracula’s a famous vampire from books and films. The author lived here and part of the book is set in Whitby.” He looks sideways. “You’re going to tell me vampires are real now, aren’t you?”
The stone steps wind upwards, and Kyle leaps up them eagerly. Faith holds onto the metal rail and stomps up, clearly not pleased to be hiking. This was supposed to be a normal day out, not a discourse on demons.
“Yes, they are.” I walk past him, hoping to end the conversation.
“Of course...” There’s a tone of exasperation in Jack’s voice.
The panoramic view at the top of the steps takes in the small town and outwards towards the ocean. Kyle sits on a green bench, encouraging Faith to take his picture, and I walk to look over the wooden fence, down towards the orange roofs of the stacked-together houses. The water is still, and a few trawler boats travel along the inlet towards the dock. The serenity of the place fills me with sadness, and Jack senses this, as he always does.
He nudges me in the ribs with his elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just thinking how lucky you all are. You can go anywhere, do anything.” I turn and rest against the fence. “And they say this is Hell.”
“Who does?”
“People from my home.” I lower my voice. “The human world is full of pain and misery, where everyone is stalked by death.”
Jack pulls a face. “God, you sound like the Goths who come on pilgrimages here. Is that what you think too?”
“No, I don’t think that. Because you’re here.”
Stepping closer, he stands over me, one hand either side on the fence. “What we talked about. Do you think it could happen? That you could stay?”
The memory of our conversation is overwhelmed by the memory of our bodies glowing after sex. Something we’ve indulged in repeatedly ever since—I’m amazed we even find our way out of bed some days. I colour slightly, and when he touches my waist, my arousal is instant. I could never get enough of Jack.
“Would you want me to stay if I could?”
“What a stupid question!” he laughs.
“Seriously...”
“Seriously? Yes, a thousand times, Dahlia.” He gently places his mouth on mine, then pulls away. “Ask them. Stay with me.”
I rub my eyebrow, picturing Darius. Some days I find it hard to imagine myself back in my old world. Recently, I’ve lost sight of my soul-hunter self too, spending less time searching for demons. Every passing day increases my desire to be with Jack and stay in this world, but my position at the edge of his world is never far away. Just look at today and my failure to understand what Kyle meant.
“No?” Jack sounds concerned, his mouth tight. “You don’t look like you agree.”
“I do. Every day I’m here, I feel less like I want to go back. But I’m scared of the answer Darius will give if I ask.”
“If your people think this world is Hell, why should they care if you stay here?”
As Jack moves to kiss me, I consider his words. The possibility, which ignited weeks ago burns hotter every day. That’s the answer. I’m not asking for freedom; I’m asking for something terrible. And one thing I have learnt in my time as a soul hunter is the Caelestia are quite happy to do terrible things to people. The question is, would the fact I ask to be left here make it more or less likely to happen?
JACK
Dahlia walks along the sand, holding her shoes, and paddling in the retreating sea. My stomach flips in circles, as it always does when I watch her. Sometimes it’s impossible to let go of her hand for more than a few minutes, but she wants space, I can tell. After our discussion at the top of the steps, she withdrew. I know by now when to drop things and back off. I think the amount of time she’s spent alone in her life shows sometimes; she pulls back into herself readily. Right now, there’s no sadness to her stance; she’s enjoying the moment.
“How’s it going, Jack?” Faith catches up alongside me and links her arm through mine.
“Yeah, pretty good.”
She pushes her wind-blown hair from her face. “Not seen much of you recently.”
“Things have been hectic, I guess.”
“How’s things with Dahlia?”
I pause and kick the seaweed. Are there beaches where Dahlia comes from? “Why?”
Faith tugs the strap of her vest top back up her shoulder. “I worry about you.”
“Why?”
“You’re too intense. You and her.”
I curl my fingers around the phone in my pocket. “We just like to be together.”
“All the time.”
Yes, I would be with her all the time. But Faith would never understand. None of them ever could.
She places cool fingers on my arm. “I know she’s your first serious girlfriend, and that can be pretty overwhelming, but don’t shut everyone else out.”
“I’m not.”
She pauses. “Did you know we’re leaving?”
“Who?”
“The band. We’re taking a year out in Europe.”
“Oh. When did you decide that?”
“A few weeks ago, but we haven’t seen you to tell you.”
I inhale at her pointed words. “When are you going?”
“Next week.”
That makes sense; the semester is over, but wow. I really am out of the loop. “Okay.”
The lead-coloured waves foam onto the shore, and I look across at Dahlia, who is trying to rein in the hair whipping around her head in the wind.
“Be careful, Jack,” says Faith.
“I can look after myself.”
Faith huffs and regards me with concerned eyes. “What do you even have in common?”
“Enough to make us connect, but not so much we have no lives outside of each other.” I bristle; she’s annoying me now.
“Really? I don’t see much of your life outside of her.”
“Faith, just say whatever it is you want to.”
“None of my business, I just don’t want her to tear your heart out and rip it to pieces.”
“That’s not Dahlia’s style.”
“I hope not.”
We catch up to Dahlia, and the others who are splashing through the water like toddlers, laughing, carefree, and happy. Dahlia’s reserved nature doesn’t allow her to join in and I go to her. She jumps as I wrap my arms around her waist from behind, and I snuggle my face into her shoulder. Dahlia rests her head against mine.
“I love you,” I whisper into her ear.
“I know where Alexander is now. I won’t be here much longer,” she replies in a tone, which suggests she’s been thinking about this while she stares at the sea.
My stomach knots. “Okay.”
Dahlia turns and I push her hair out of her face, so I can see the hidden feelings. “I’m going to ask them because I love you too much to leave forever.”
Wrapping my arms around her goose-bumped body, I breathe in the vanilla scent of my Dahlia, and refuse to carry on the conversation. I don’t want to think of her not here with me; we can't talk about this. She pushes her face into my chest, and I hope she’s not crying. If only catching Dahlia in my dreams was enough.
18
DAHLIA
The old wharf buildings overhang the river; many are boarded up, graffiti tags scrawled across them and fallen bricks piled on the ground. Some empty buildings show signs of homeless people in residence—old mattresses, foul smells, and despair. Exactly the kind of place, demons love to hang out.
The vagrant humans, lost at the edges of their world, become easy targets. There's a sadness to this because they had no real life, and then they lose their souls. The longer I spend in this world, the more I see the freedom of human existence isn't all roses. Maybe the Caelestia do have some things right—however much they control us, nobody goes destitute or hungry.
The smell of Jack clings to my clothes, and I burrow my nose
into my jacket to inhale his scent. Happiness and safety. But I know time has run out now, and pain will replace the calm.
Alexander is located here.
The Nephilim hasn't appeared for a few days, and I continue my tracking, relieved to hear from the demons I kill that Alexander is still alive. Maybe the Nephilim gave up, but I doubt it. His relationship with Alexander strikes me as odd; as allies, he shouldn't want him dead. Looks like harmony in the demon world is over, which means an easier time for soul hunters. Still, I'm wary in case the Nephilim springs from nowhere again.
Summer evening stretches into night now, daylight lingers as late as nine p.m., which doesn't aid me. I leave Jack pretending this is just another day, but I think he knows otherwise; he’s not very good at hiding how he feels and his hard-set mouth betrayed him. Dog walkers and joggers pass me as I sit on an old mooring, staring into the dull water. A train rumbles into the station behind, reminding me of the time, I snuck down here from Birmingham to see Jack.
Jack. Everything reminds me of him, and I dig my nails into my palm. I didn't think this through, believed a few snatched months with the guy from my dreams would be enough. My blind inability to see the reality of what would happen the closer we grew will to hurt us both badly.
A familiar figure approaches, and my stomach sinks into my feet. For fuck’s sake. Why didn't I expect this? A female jogger can't help but double her head back and appreciate the Nephilim’s lithe figure as he strides along the riverbank. He’s too far away for me to meet his look, so I stand and begin walking in the opposite direction. A small part of me is happy, I have a reprieve from finishing my task if he’s here to stop me, and that means more time with Jack. But the larger part knows competition with the Nephilim for Alexander equals failure, and then... who knows?
Running footsteps approach and I turn, bracing for an assault. He stops short of me, blue eyes glinting with amusement.
“You don't give up, do you?” he asks.
“Neither do you, apparently.”
“How's Jack?”
His question knocks me off guard, panic rising inside. Surely nothing could’ve happened—I only left Jack an hour ago. “Why? Is he okay?”
“Settle down, he's fine. For now.” His tone isn't threatening, and this guy confuses me again. “Can we have a chat?”
I blink at him. A demon chatting to a soul hunter? No neck snapping or stabbing involved? I hardly think so. “What about?”
“Your future.”
“What the hell does my future have to do with you? Or do you mean killing me and the end of my future?”
He grins. “Come for a walk, and I'll tell you.”
“Are you distracting me so Alexander can escape?”
“No. I don't have any need to distract you.” He arches an eyebrow. “Don't you think I'd kill you instead of distracting you?”
I think I pale because his eyes narrow a moment as he studies my face.
“Don't worry; I'm not going to kill you. Or your human.”
“Then what? Play games?”
The Nephilim shrugs. “Okay. I won't bother helping you then.”
Now I am confused. “Help me?”
“Little soul hunter, you're so funny. And so unique. I want to see what they do.”
“They?”
“Darius. The Caelestia. How they react when you go back, task accomplished.”
“Well, that's hardly going to happen now, is it?” I retort and continue my path back towards the city.
“Don't you understand what I'm saying?” he calls after me.
I ignore his lies and trickery. Aren't Nephilim the cleverest of demons?
“I've decided to let you take Alexander’s soul.”
His words arrest me, but I don't turn round. “Yeah, right.” I start walking again.
The Nephilim's feet crunch along the path behind me, and he walks backwards, so I have to see him. “I want him dead, and it’s easier if I let you kill him, because I won't be blamed.”
Despite my jacket, I shiver. “Why do you want to kill him?”
He snorts. “I’m not telling you that.”
“Suppose I believe you. Why do you want me to succeed?”
“Like I said, I want to see what they do, when you go back to Darius. So, I’m going to help you.”
My head spins, reality shifts, and I think maybe this is how things are for Jack. This could be one huge trap, but there’s a glimmer of a chance I could succeed.
“You want your Will, don’t you?” he asks.
“Stupid question.”
“What about Jack?”
“What about him?”
The Nephilim cocks his head, and I attempt to keep my features even, not betray my fears for the future. “Can you live without him?”
He may as well have smacked me across the head because I reel. This guy has his fingers digging into my mind. No, tearing into my heart. I chew the inside of my cheek; he won’t see how I’m feeling.
“Who the hell are you?” I demand.
“Thought you’d never ask. I’m Keir. And I’m your best shot at winning.” Bizarrely, he holds a hand out to shake.
At this point, I’m speechless. Completely. All I can do is stare and wait for my scrambling brain to figure out what his game is. “Really?” squeaks out after a minute.
“Yeah, and Alexander’s not here. Come on.”
DAHLIA
“Campus?”
Keir leans against a wall on the edge of campus; the wall I saw him by the first day we crossed paths. “And? Haven’t you figured things out yet?”
Night finally falls into darkness and drapes shadows around the buildings. Across the busy road, a path runs into the darkened trees of the park. I shuffle from foot to foot, watching Keir and wondering what the hell I’m doing.
“Figured what out?”
“Demon contingent. On campus. They told you, right?”
“Sort of. But how can they hide so easily?”
“Oh, come on, you silly girl, there’re thousands of students attending this place, and a few of them look a whole lot weirder than any demons I’ve ever seen. Alexander blends in well.”
“Alexander?”
I feel stupid. Darius told me there were no recent pictures of the demon I’m tracking, which makes the task harder. So I always imagined Alexander sitting in a well-hidden lair, surrounded by followers—an old school type of demon not integrated into society. I guess I’m not as good a hunter as Darius thought.
“Yep. He’s here. Brought your crystal?”
How is he so nonchalant, casual? Presumably, this demon is no match for him. “I’m killing him?”
Keir raises an eyebrow. “I told you. I’m not getting my hands dirty.”
“What if he’s not alone?”
“I’ll deal with anyone else. Come on.”
“Where?”
Keir walks away, and I need to take large steps to keep up. To my dismay, we head into the heart of campus. As he approaches the Student Union, my stomach churns and I hang back, beneath the shadow of a tree. What if someone sees us?
“Where are you going?” I hiss.
“To bring him out here.”
“He’s in there?”
All this time searching and Alexander is right under my nose. Even with thousands of students around me, I should have sensed demons more easily. Have they evolved somehow? Can they mask themselves now? I spotted Phoebe the moment I saw her, so why not Alexander? My scalp tingles at the possibility people could’ve died because of my slip up. But why should I worry about that? I’m not here to save humans; I’m here to kill demons. This concern for the humans I know opens my eyes further to how far into this life I’ve fallen.
Keir turns around and walks back over, and I step back unsure of his next move. He looks down at me. “Yes, he’s in there. I’ll head inside, find him, and bring him out. Keep your distance, then follow us when we walk away.”
In the dim light, I gaze back in confus
ion. He’s a demon. I can feel the taint of the demon form surrounding his human aura, so why is he doing this? I imagine Keir has a hundred tricks he uses to frighten or seduce others, so why isn’t he using them on me? I tense, muscles coiled ready to run. Every time Keir comes near me I wait for the inevitable assault, but it never comes.
Behind him, in the light of the Union forecourt, a figure catches my eye. I’m not shadowed enough to be hidden. And neither is Keir. A girl with blue hair watches me for a moment, then slams herself through the door and into the building. Suddenly Keir isn’t my problem.
“Shit.”
Keir frowns. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m waiting. Go and find Alexander.”
I’m about to face down the most powerful demon I’ve come across, perhaps two, if Keir isn’t what he seems, and all I can think is shit, Faith saw me with Keir, and she’s going to tell Jack. This proves everything has gone way too far. The moment I saw Faith, the reality crystallised; my connection to Jack, to his world, means I’ll never succeed. Everything comes down to Jack and to us. I can’t focus on being a soul hunter anymore.
“Are you up to this?” he asks.
It’s as if he knows. I rub my eyes, attempting to rub away the image of Jack’s face and of the expression on his face if Faith tells him what she’s seen. Keir and me, intimate, huddled together and concealed beneath a tree.
“Yes. Finish this,” I say.
While I wait, I face away from the lit Union doorway. The tree bark is rough beneath my hand, and I pick absentmindedly, fighting my urge to follow Faith. The bark stings as it pierces the skin beneath my nail, and I suck on my finger, turning back to watch who leaves the building. Ten minutes later, I sink back against the trunk. Why is Keir taking this long?
Two figures climb the steps leading from the Union building, and one leans against the rail at the top. Keir. The other stands on the step just short of him, and I squint into the darkness, trying for my first sight of Alexander, but Keir obscures me.
The two men stride away, side by side, but not speaking, heading back towards the edge of campus. Alexander is as tall as Keir, but less muscular and his hair longer, half way down his neck. I can't see much else in the dim, so I peel myself from the tree and follow at a distance.
