Jordyn (A Daemon Hunter Novel Book One)

by Tiffany King

  "Well, it's pretty easy when they can't touch me without being reduced to ash," I said.

  "That only applies when they're in Daemon form. When they inhabit a human, your touch doesn't affect them, and yet you were still able to take on two last night. They're curious to know how that is."

  I shrugged my shoulders, not sure how to explain it. Haniel and I had spent the last year working on my combat skills. At first, it had been simple yoga that he had insisted would keep me limber and centered. From there, we tackled various forms of fighting techniques from tae kwon do, aikido, and jujitsu to modern kickboxing. I was literally a Daemon-fighting machine. Sometimes, I'd seriously consider trading it all for a date with some steamy guy, but I kept that to myself.

  "How's the book going?" I asked, changing the subject as I indicated the laptop.

  "Not bad. Of course, the characters kept me up half the night clamoring about how they thought the story should go. I've spent the last two hours tweaking several sections. I think it's enough to keep them quiet," she joked.

  "I'd listen to those voices. They haven't steered you wrong yet."

  "That's true, although I'm thinking of closing the series up in the next book."

  "What? Your fans would riot, myself included," I said, horrified at the idea of saying goodbye to hot boy Blaine from her Dark Night series. She penned the series under a pen name and had refused public appearances from the beginning. Her agent had given up on trying to convince her a couple years ago when his claims of "literary death" if she didn't put herself out there proved false. She gave her fans what they wanted by running a blog, doing regular Facebook updates, interacting on Twitter, and the obvious, writing kickass books.

  She laughed at my words. "Well, eventually the series will have to end," she teased.

  "Hmmmph," I disagreed, downing the rest of my coffee. "You want something to eat?" I asked, standing up and stretching.

  "No, Mark said he'd bring me a chocolate cupcake from Wickedly Sweet on his way home. Do you want me to have him grab you one too?"

  "No, I'll stick with a traditional breakfast, freak," I teased, heading back inside to rustle up a more appropriate choice than hers.

  "Don't hate the chocolate," she called after me.

  "Hey, Jordyn, I heard you kicked some major Daemon ass last night," Sam, my sort-of aunt said, joining me in the kitchen. I jumped slightly at her voice.

  "I didn't know you were here," I said, stating the obvious as I mopped up the coffee that had sloshed over the edge of my cup when I'd jumped.

  "Mark and Shawn had some business to attend to, so I thought I'd come hang with you," she said, looking guilty.

  "Translation, you're here to babysit me," I gripped, putting two slices of bread in the toaster.

  "Hang out," she said, emphasizing the words.

  "Right," I said skeptically, removing the butter and jam from the refrigerator. Sam was nice enough. Sure, her bubbly personality kind of wore on me, but for the most part she was cool. I wasn't as close with her as I was with Krista or especially Lynn, but I chalked that up to the fact that we were polar opposites. She was optimistic about most things, while I was the engineer of the pessimist train. She was all sunshine and love, while I was darkness and fighting. I knew my instant friendship with Lynn had hurt her feelings, so I tried to make a conscious effort to open up more with her.

  "Oh yeah, you know me, the Anomaly strikes again," I said, glossing it over.

  "You're a badass anomaly at least," she teased, tugging at my hair. "So fill me in. I only got the highlights from Mark before he headed out this morning.

  I sat down at the kitchen table with my toast and second cup of coffee and gave her the long version of the events from the night before.

  "Badass," she said again when I finished, holding out her closed fist so we could knock knuckles. "I'd give anything to be able to fight like that," she said wistfully.

  "You want to fight?" I asked shocked.

  "Hell, yeah. It's always bothered me that the guys have to handle the physical part of our missions."

  "Yeah, but you have that freaky manipulation-of-feelings thing going on," I said, wondering if she was yanking my chain.

  "I'd trade that any day for being able to scrap a little," she said seriously.

  "True that. How's your studies going?" I asked, changing the subject. Sam had been spending time with Haniel the last few months to get a better idea of the true history of the world. I'd overheard my aunt and uncle discussing her sudden interest a couple months back. They were pretty sure her interest stemmed from the recent knowledge that the current generation of Guides would not be able to conceive.

  "Not bad, Haniel's as dry as the desert, but he's a wealth of knowledge," she said, stealing a bite of my toast.

  I nodded in agreement. Sam opened her worn notebook that she never let out of her sight and launched into some of the notes from her time spent with Haniel the day before. After a few minutes, my eyes glazed over as Sam began to discuss the inconsistencies with documents that had been found over the years and the actual events. Only half listening, I used my fingertip to pick up stray crumbs on the table from my toast. My mind snapped back to attention when I heard her mention Soul Traders.

  "What did you say?" I asked, fully alert.

  "I said Soul Traders date back centuries. It's pretty crazy that Haniel just covered Soul Traders yesterday and then boom, you meet one for the first time," Sam said, opening her notebook to a blank page.

  I pondered her words as I watched her hastily jot down notes. It was an awfully big coincidence. Not to mention that both Krista and Mark seemed well versed on the subject. I bristled at the idea of being kept in the dark.

  "Hey, I'm going to go get dressed," I told her.

  She nodded, although distracted, already lost in her notes as she jotted down her current thoughts on the subject.

  An hour later, I headed down to the beach for my daily training with Haniel. I was dressed in my typical training attire of black yoga pants and a white ribbed tank top. My feet were clad in black combat boots. The boots left patterned imprints on the sand as I stomped toward Haniel. My suspicions of being kept in the dark had neared a boiling point by the time I reached his side.

  "You are late," Haniel said when I joined him.

  "Did you know I would meet Emrys last night?" I asked, throwing the words at him like daggers.

  "I knew of an impending encounter, but was not aware it would occur last night," he said.

  "How did you know an encounter was impending?" I asked, working hard to tamper my anger.

  "I was told that a Soul Trader was in the area. Are you ready for training?" he asked, not acknowledging my anger. Half the time, human emotions were lost on him, but I had the impression he was well aware of how I felt.

  "Well, here's an idea. How about if some freaking dangerous, soul snatcher is in the area, you give me the heads-up," I said with sarcasm dripping freely from my voice. "Instead of sitting around talking about it with my relatives behind my back. I'm not a kid," I said, pacing back and forth on the sand in aggravation.

  He watched my ranting and raving without commenting, and I couldn't help seeing the irony of the situation. I was claiming to be mature with one breath and showed it by stomping around in a fit like a two-year-old. Taking a deep breath, I stopped pacing and looked at him.

  "No more secrets."

  "No more secrets," he parroted.

  "That means if you deem something is important enough to tell Krista and Mark, I should also be involved," I said, clarifying exactly what I meant by "no secrets."

  "You are pricklier than your aunt was at your age," he observed.

  "So you've said, like only a million times," I replied, spreading my legs slightly apart and leaning over to place my hands on the ground in front of me to stretch my hamstrings. "Truthfully, I love Krista, but she must have been pretty boring," I said, grabbing onto my right ankle and holding the pose for several minutes.
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br />   Haniel remained silent, so I lifted my head to look at him. I grinned when I saw his look of disapproval. "Sheesh, Haniel, don't get your panties in a bunch. Krista knows she's a bit boring," I said, lowering my head so my curtain of black hair fell back over my face.

  "Where are we going today?" I asked, finally finishing my stretching.

  "Today, we will be working on terrain training," he answered, ignoring my groan.

  "What? After last night, I was hoping to kick some more Daemon ass," I pouted. I hated terrain training.

  "The others have asked that they join you for your next encounter with Daemons. They wish to observe you."

  "Because I'm freaking awesome," I joked.

  "Your humbleness is refreshing," Haniel said dryly.

  "Good one," I said, looking at him with approval. "That was almost humanly snarky, but not quite," I teased.

  "Ready?" he asked, reaching out to grasp my hand with his.

  I nodded, holding on tightly. I hated this part the most. In less than the blink of an eye, the sand beneath my feet and the ocean in front of me disappeared. Traveling with Haniel was nothing like the way they showed it in movies. There was no spinning, no vortex of colors, one second you were here, and the next you were somewhere else.

  It took my eyes several moments to adjust to my new surroundings. Placing my hands on my knees, I leaned over to gather my bearings. I grimaced when I saw patches of snow on the ground.

  "Snow?" I complained, thankful that I at least had boots on.

  Haniel waited patiently while I adjusted to the altitude and climate change. I always struggled with lightheadedness and nausea when I traveled with him. When I first started traveling with him, he had used his gifts to help me adjust, but he had tapered that off a few months ago, claiming I needed to learn to acclimate myself. After a few minutes, I had adjusted to the altitude and was able to stand upright without feeling like I was going to toss my toast.

  "Ready?" he asked.

  "Yeah, but seriously, snow?" I griped again, shivering slightly in the cooler temperatures.

  "The altitude will help strengthen your lungs further during battle."

  "You always act like a swarm of Daemons are going to crawl their way out of the depths of hell."

  "It is best to be prepared for all situations," Haniel answered in his normal dismissive tone whenever I questioned the endless hours of training. Not that I bitched much about it since it got me out of school.

  "No more talking. Go," he said, pointing to the top of the mountain above us.

  "How high?" I asked, knowing from previous training sessions what he expected.

  "The top. I will be waiting for you there," he said, disappearing in front of me.

  "What a cheat," I complained to myself as I picked up a steady pace up the uneven ground. There was no trail to speak of, so all the work was up to me. My breathing came out in even puffs as I made my way up the steep incline.

  My mind began to wander as I moved on autopilot. I'd been too hyped up all morning to allow myself the luxury of thinking about Emrys. I teased myself with fantasies about why he wanted to see me so badly. I'd been warned to stay away from him, but I couldn't help wondering what would have happened if I would have joined him.

  Busy with sinful thoughts of the steamy Trader, I missed the exposed tree root that was sticking up out of the ground as I jogged along.

  One minute I was thinking of the tattoo that disappeared down his shirt and the next I was airborne. Using skills Haniel had taught me, I tucked my body into a ball and wrapped my arms around my head to protect it. I landed several feet away in a bone-jarring heap.

  "Fucking hell's bells," I grunted, taking a few seconds to gather my wits while I took stock of possible injuries. Every bone in my body ached, but as I slowly began to uncurl myself from the fetal position I had flown in, I knew I wasn't seriously injured, except maybe my pride. After a moment, I staggered to my feet and pushed my hair out of my face. My knees burned and I looked down grimacing.

  "Mother of monkey asses, these were new pants," I squawked out loud as I took in the tennis ball-sized holes in each of the knees of my pants. Blood flowed copiously from my left knee while the right one looked like road rash.

  "Real slick, dipshit," I said, leaning down to roll up my pant legs so I could take a closer look. I sucked in a breath as the material of my pants brushed against my scraped knees. "Holy donkey balls, how do kids deal with scraped knees all the time?" I complained out loud.

  "Do you always talk to yourself?" a voice asked behind me.

  "Stalk much?" I asked unsurprised. Even while nursing a couple of scraped knees, my instincts had clued me in to the presence of someone else up here in the middle of nowhere. "More importantly, how did you find me?" I asked, turning around to face Emrys.

  "Built-in tracking device," he said, pointing to his chest.

  "Really? Are you screwing with me?"

  He raised his eyebrows suggestively at my words. "Now that would be an interesting turn of events."

  I smirked at him. "I think your ego's making drinks your nonhuman body can't have."

  "That's an odd way to put it, but trust me, cookie, that's not a problem," he answered in his honey-laced voice, taking a step toward me.

  "The slick banter doesn't work on me," I said nonchalantly. "Haniel filled me in on your, uh, 'talents.'"

  "Yeah, Haniel's had a hard-on for our gifts of persuasion for years."

  I snorted out a laugh. I'd spent the last year around straight-laced people and it was nice in a naughty way to have someone speak what I was thinking.

  "Too bad you seem to be immune to my charm. I might've been tempted to use that in my favor," he said, looking me up and down.

  "How do you know I'm immune?"

  "Well, cookie, I used my most persuasive tools in my arsenal last night and you fought them off. I'm guessing Hard-on Haniel gets the same results."

  "Seriously, you have to stop calling him that. I won't be able to look at him the same again."

  "What's the deal with you two anyway? He seemed pretty possessive of you last night. I thought he hooked up with some chick in heaven, or is that old dog making up for lost time?"

  "That chick is my great aunt," I said, watching his jaw drop. "And, eww, he's my mentor, so don't be a dick," I said, reaching out to push his shoulder.

  "Well, ain't that some shit. I'm not going to say that isn't a relief," he said, capturing my hand in his.

  "And why is that?" I asked, trying not to focus on what his touch did to me.

  "Because, I'd have to kick some Arch's ass to get the girl."

  I snorted.

  "What?" he asked, seeing the merriment in my eyes.

  "Dude, he's an Arch Angel. He'd stomp you," I said, laughing outright.

  "You question my skills?" he asked incredulously.

  "Well, let's see. He stands at least a full head taller than you, has about a foot on you in shoulder width, and did I mention he's a freaking Arch Angel?"

  "Oh ye of little faith," he said, chuckling softly.

  "Want to let me in on your joke?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

  "How about we go somewhere instead?"

  "Go where?" I asked, more intrigued than I should have been.

  "There's a spot I like to go to, to just chill. What do you say?" he asked, holding out his hand.

  I looked into his eyes, hesitating for a moment and wondering if I was under some kind of spell. His eyes were deep pools of green that seemed to drag me in. Without another thought, I reached out my hand.

  "Jordyn!" a stern voice said, breaking the spell.

  My hand dropped and I thought I saw a flash of anger in Emrys's eye, but a moment later it was gone and replaced with his cocky grin.

  "Some other time," he said, reaching up to give my chin a gentle tug. He shot a grin at Haniel behind me before disappearing.

  I stood staring, transfixed at the spot where he'd just been. I was shocked by th
e waves of disappointment that washed over me. What did I have to be disappointed about? It wasn't like I even knew him, and yet the letdown I felt was acute. I burned inside to know where he'd wanted to take me.

  "Jordyn?" Haniel's voice was filled with uncharacteristic concern.

  I turned to face him, trying to hide my disappointment. "Yeah?" I answered, shaking off the sudden melancholy that had gripped me.

  "Are you in pain?" he asked.

  "What?" I asked, wondering how he was suddenly able to read me.

  "You are bleeding," he said, pointing to the injuries on my knees that I'd forgotten about.

  Glancing down, I was shocked to see that the blood on my left knee had dripped down my leg and was pooling on my boot. "Oh," I gasped as the throbbing of both knees made their presence known. "I fell," I said stupidly, as I looked at him in confusion.

  Without speaking, he reached out and gripped my hand in his. The mountain disappeared from underneath me, and the cool tile of my living room floor replaced it just as I collapsed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I woke disoriented to the sound of loud voices.

  "What happened?" I heard my uncle demand.

  "Shh, Mark, you're going to wake her," I heard Krista whisper, although the sting from her gently dabbing at my knees with a wet cloth didn't help either.

  I kept my eyes closed, pretending to remain asleep. I was curious why Mark was so upset. So I had taken a tumble and bloodied my knees. It wasn't the first time I'd been injured, and I was positive it would happen again. Often.

  "I want to know how he found her, and why he's suddenly so curious about her," Mark demanded in a lower voice, but still shaking with rage.

  "He's a Trader, Mark. He can find anyone, right?" Krista said, obviously directing the question to Haniel.

  "That is correct."

  "Fine, but why is he interested in Jordyn?" Mark bit out.

  "I am unaware of his intentions."