The Demon-Eater: Hunting Shadows (Book One, Part One

by Devin Graham

  I am sorry, Renette, for leaving you behind.

  Take a few of the guards and depart from our manor as soon as you are able. My good friend, Charles Tharker, will be happy to take you in. If something should have befallen my friend—Father Truth forbid—, go to another acquaintance of mine in the Northern Region, who goes by the name Grey. Grey is not civil in the way you are used to, but will keep you safe.

  Furthermore, you have no need to worry for your mother. I have seen to it that she will be well taken care of upon my death.

  The address to Grey's is written below—if that should be the route you take. And, of course, you know the way to Charles's. I have provided the necessary passport required for passage into the Northern Region. There is, also, another envelope for your eyes only, my daughter. Whatever happens, never let it out of your sight.

  Being dead, I have no other choice but to trust that it is you, my daughter, who holds this letter now. If it should be another, know that it is crucial in the utmost that you see my daughter to safety. I ask that you respect a dead man's wishes and ensure my daughter receives the sealed envelope. More is at stake here than you could possibly understand....

  With all my love to you and hope in Father Truth,

  Your Father

  Gabriel leaned back in his chair, more than a little disappointed at the vagueness of the letter. At least, now, Gabriel knew the attacks on the nobility were not so random after all. Even so, he was still in the dark about the why of the matter. Were the demons killing these particular nobles, because they were looking for something? Did whatever was inside of the sealed envelope pertain to that?

  If the demons are looking for something, Gabriel thought, then why are they making such a show of killing the nobility? Why aren't they killing in secret?

  Gabriel consciously forced the questions away. He was not an investigator. Whatever the demons were planning, it was none of his concern. He did not want it to be. His goal was not to save, it was to kill. And the questions distracted from that. Besides, if he could hunt the demons down, find a way to kill them, the nobility would have nothing more to worry about anyway.

  Gabriel looked to the sealed envelope, having fallen from the folded letter. The wax seal did not bear the insignia of House Bawdlin. This insignia—two, overlapping circles, forming a sideways eye where they overlapped—itched at Gabriel's memory.

  For a moment, Gabriel was in that terrible, bright corridor, white-clad figures in face masks bustling about him. He squeezed his eyes shut and it flickered away.

  Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the sealed envelope. He pressed his thumbs against the seal, preparing to break it. Perhaps he would find answers inside. But he wavered. As he stared at the seal of the envelope, the voices of the others had become eerily silent. He found it strangely uncomfortable.

  After a few moments, he breathed out a breath he had not realized had been pent up.

  No, he thought lifting his thumbs from the seal. I don't want those answers. Whatever was inside was for Renette's eyes, anyway. He had gone numb to death over the years, but he had not lost his decency. Still...

  Gabriel slipped the envelope into a pocket on the inside of his tailcoat. I won't open it, but—whatever it is—it's safer with me.

  He rose from his seat then, swiping the passport and letter up from the table. He paused, his eyes drifting toward Renette, still sitting with her eyes fixed on that distant point. Upon her lap, her bloodied hands trembled. Hort wanted his daughter seen to safety.

  Come and get us, Demon-Eater, the voices started up again. Challenging him.

  She's not my problem, he thought, then started away.

  I'm giving up on you, a single voice whispered. Gabriel stopped. I'm giving up on you, because you forgot.

  Forgot?

  Gabriel turned back to Renette. Her wide eyes drifted his way, finally moving from whatever they had been fixed upon, and remained on his. Reddened and swollen from her previous crying, her eyes were surprisingly firm, fixed on Gabriel now. Her eyes were...

  “Her...eyes...” Gabriel whispered to himself, as Renette's gaze slid down to the floor after a moment. He pulled out his sheet of paper from within his tailcoat and set it down on a nearby table. He got out a pencil and began to sketch out two sideways ovals, over the words he had written there.

  When he was finished, he set the pencil aside. The faceless woman stared up at him. His sketching was not beautiful, for he was no artist, but it was accurate. True. And, now, the faceless woman had eyes. Her eyes were unwavering and kind all at once. Her eyes were knowing and penetrating and lovely. And Gabriel remembered them.

  He turned back to the young woman, Renette.

  “She has her eyes,” he whispered. Then smiled faintly.

  “The older man,” Gabriel began slowly, “the one who... That was Charles Tharker?”

  The young woman looked up from the floor. She nodded. That eliminated him then.

  “Your father wanted you safe,” Gabriel continued, walking toward Renette. She flinched as he outstretched a hand to give the passport and the duke's letter to her. She eyed the letter, eventually taking it, and the passport, with reluctant slowness. “He mentioned in the letter that he arranged for your mother to be taken care of. Is she...not well enough to travel with you?”

  Renette shook her head.

  “Well, she will be safe here, then,” Gabriel said. “Guardsman,” he called, causing another flinch from Renette.

  The guard—the one who had charged the Skin Crawler—entered into the library a second later; he had been standing just outside the door. Clearly unsure as to what protocol called for when standing before someone like Gabriel, the guardsman gave an awkward salute.

  “Sir?” the guard said in a firm voice. Gabriel thought he must have be hiding how shaken up he was rather well.

  “You're all right?” Gabriel asked.

  “Yes, sir. Only a nasty bruise.” The guardsman rubbed the side of his face, his left cheek a swollen circle of purple and black. “Brute had a nasty backhand,” he chuckled hollowly. His eyes took on a distant look. “It was supposed to work. Lord Hort breaks himself free long enough for me to fell the sorry sap trying to hold him. We practiced it dozens of times. It was supposed to work...”

  Gabriel laid a hand on the man's shoulder. He felt the guardsman go tense at his touch.

  “You did your best,” Gabriel said. “Better than most against one of those things.”

  “And what exactly was that bloody thing? Er...my lord.”

  “Just another kind of monster,” Gabriel said. “Listen, I think it's better we leave some monsters forgotten about.” Especially if it's attention they want.

  The guardsman shook his head, blowing out a heavy breath. “Lord Hort was a good man,” the guard said. “He didn't deserve to be... Not like that.”

  The filthiest criminal does not deserve to be killed by one of those things, Gabriel thought, removing his hand from the man's shoulder.

  “I was supposed to be there,” the guardsman continued. “I failed—”

  “Guardsman,” Gabriel interrupted, “you can't afford to think about what happened, and you can't afford to blame yourself. The duke wrote that he wanted his daughter seen safely to an acquaintance of his in the Northern Region. Somewhere in Summerton, the address said in the letter. Grey will be his name. Can you do that? Can you escort the Lady Renette to safety.”

  The guardsman wavered. “I couldn't even touch Lord Charles—or, the monster...whatever he...it...was. If something like that comes for—”

  “Listen to me,” Gabriel said in a stern voice. He glanced over toward Renette—who did not even seem to notice them—and continued in a lower voice. “Those monsters won't be after Lady Renette. I have been following their movements. They go after the hosts of random balls and...well, you saw it. They will be after some other lord throwing another ball—if there are any left who are brave enough to do so—, by now. You have a duty
to this family, guardsman. And the daughter is still alive and well. I ask again: Can you get her to Grey's?”

  The guard stared hard into Gabriel's own eyes. For the first time, Gabriel paid enough attention to the man to realize the guardsman was probably several years older than himself. And he was speaking to him as though he were a boy.

  “It was never a question of duty, lord,” the guardsman said. He nodded after a few seconds. “I can do it. I'll gather up a small team of men and we'll see her to Grey's. I'll see her to everywhere she goes.”

  Gabriel smiled wanly. “Good,” he said, then turned his attention back to Lady Renette. Frail Lady Renette. “I know it is soon for you,” he said to her, “but you really must make haste. Your guardsman here will—”

  “No.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper and Renette seemed surprised herself that she had said it. “No,” she said again, in a stronger voice. “I will not go.”

  “Renette,” Gabriel said, “it's not me, you know. It was your father's wish for you to—”

  “No,” she snapped, shooting him a glare. She shrank back, face going pale, when she realized at whom she had snapped. Gabriel wished she was not so frightened of him. Looking into Renette's wide eyes—her eyes—, it was almost as if...she...were fearful of him. “I will go nowhere. Not until my father is buried.”

  Gabriel sighed, but he did not particularly fancy arguing with a mourning girl.

  “Fine,” Gabriel said. “But we bury him tonight. And then we're off.”

  Renette opened her mouth, looking as though she were about to argue. Then she closed it and merely nodded.

  “Sorry, sir,” the guardsman began. “You said we're off?”

  Gabriel nodded slowly. “I might as well ride along with you. At least, for a short while. Just in case.” Gabriel looked down at his hands when he noticed himself searching for the wedding band that was no longer there, then pulled them apart. Just in case.

  Gabriel started toward the library exit.

  “I hate you.”

  He paused. Strangely, Renette's words pricked him inside. Somewhere too near to the heart.

  “Or, at least, I want to,” she said in a softer voice. “I'm sorry.”

  Gabriel kept his eyes planted on the library door.

  “Let's get digging,” he said, then pushed the door open and walked away.

  * * *

  Lord William Baryon, the man who apparently made it his business to kill servants and steal souls from old friends, shoveled the last of the dirt onto the mound which was now her father's grave.

  Renette's guardsman, Riggins, drove his own shovel into the ground, where it stuck. Standing rigid beside it, he stared down at the grave with a solemn face. He shook his head.

  Renette had never asked the man how he came to be one of her father's personal guards, but it had always been clear to her that the guardsman had been indebted to her father somehow. She turned her eyes away from Riggins and to the lord, William, whose face was equally solemn. Unlike Riggins, there was no hint of pain behind the lord's solemnity. It was only grimness, as though the look befit him.

  What had he lost this night that she was not seeing?

  What is the man's game? Renette wondered. Why kill my servant, then try to save my father?

  William raised his eyes to meet hers and she quickly glanced away, down at her father's grave.

  Why had her father even been... She could not even think the thought. She was too numb to even cry anymore. And by his oldest friend?

  None of this entire night made sense to her. It was all just madness. Madness which was, as far as she could tell, brought by William Baryon. It was not right to place all the blame on Lord William. She knew that. However, she needed someone at whom to direct the anger she felt beneath the numbness.

  What about yourself? she asked herself.

  The ball had been thrown for her, after all. If she had only just done her duty and found a suitor, without throwing a tantrum every time it had been mentioned to her... Perhaps my father would still be alive.

  “How?” Renette asked the question before she even realized her lips were moving to say the word. She glanced up toward William, who seemed to suddenly tense. The lord began fidgeting with his hands, then looked down at them and pulled them apart.

  “How...?” he asked after a few seconds.

  “How did you know my father was being...targeted...tonight?” William's demeanor relaxed a bit at the question. He had been expecting her to ask something else. Renette frowned. How could he steal souls? “And how did you know my servant was a assassin—as you called him?” she asked instead.

  “I've been tracking these assassins, these...”

  “Monsters?” Renette finished. “The one that...did something to Charles's body.”

  “Yes,” William nodded. “I've been tracking these monsters for quite a while. I assume you've heard of the past two noblemen to have been killed while hosting events such as this?”

  Renette nodded, feeling shocked. “The mysterious murders,” she said. “They were done by...?”

  Again, William nodded. “They take over a person's body, and cause him to do whatever they want him to do. A de...a monster had taken your servant.”

  “Why do you not name the monsters?” Renette asked. “It's clear you know what they are.”

  “Some things are best kept secret, Miss Renette,” Riggins answered, instead. “I think the lord's got the right idea. The less we're involved, the safer it will be for you. That means less answers for the both of us.” At that, Riggins gave Lord William a hard look.

  “Yes,” William said, “less answers.”

  “How do I know it was not you taking control over Charles and my servant?” Renette asked. “I mean, I saw...I saw you...his soul.”

  William tensed again.

  “You will just have to trust me, I suppose,” he said.

  “I don't.”

  “Good.”

  Renette furrowed her brows. Then, her eyes trailed back to her father's grave. He was gone. She was alone, never to hear his voice again, never to share the day's events with him, never to laugh with him. She felt her anger seeping through the numbness.

  “Will you continue to track them?” she asked, setting her jaw.

  “To the ends of the world,” William said, his expression growing even grimmer.

  “Can I come with you?” She knew it was a foolish question the moment she asked it, but she did not care. She wanted to see the monsters who killed her father in pain. She wanted to cause the pain. Images flashed in her mind, of things so violent that they frightened her. Things she wanted do to the monsters. Things she had not known herself capable of thinking. She was supposed to be a lady.

  “No,” William said, at the same time Riggins said it.

  Both men looked to one another, as though trying to decide on which should speak first.

  “I dedicated my life to protect this family,” Riggins said, taking the lead. “My oath does not void because your father was... Anyway, I must think of your protection above all else, at all times, Miss Renette. Going with the lord would be suicide.”

  “He is right,” William said. “What skill would you have against these monsters?”

  Renette was silent. She knew they were both right.

  “I can promise you,” William continued, “that, though I could not save your father, I will avenge his death for you—and every other man or woman dead because of them. I will put an end to them.”

  Renette found that she believed him.

  “Now,” William said, pulling a pocket watch out from his suit jacket and checking it, “we really must be getting ready. The morning train leaves within the hour.”

  Renette looked toward the horizon, the pale light of dawn painting the sky an eerie grey. Had so much time really passed already?

  “Leave me a moment, please,” she said, looking back to the mound of dirt at her feet. “I would like to give my farewells.” From her p
eriphery she saw William check his watch again.

  “All right,” he said, “but try not to be too long.” Renette heard the rustling of the grass as Lord William started back toward the house.

  “I will have one of your servants pack your things for you, Miss Renette,” Riggins said. Then, he was following behind Lord William.

  Renette watched them go, until they were inside, and then she collapsed to her hands and knees. She could not cry, she could not even make a sound. She merely closed her eyes, drove her nails into the packed mound of her father's grave, and waited for the incessant aching to leave her chest. It remained, however, just as strong as it had been atop that balcony, as she knelt beside her father's headless corpse. Perhaps even stronger now.

  Rage and despair and emotions she could not quite name hurled themselves at her wave after wave, crippling her very ability to move. It was a physical pain she felt in her heart. She wanted to claw both the pain and her heart from her chest, but she just knelt where she was. Frozen by emotion, just as she had been on the balcony, when her father had been helpless.

  “I could do nothing,” she was able to croak out, finally. “I am sorry, father, I could do nothing to save you. I could do nothing. I could do nothing. I could do nothing... Nothing. I could... I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do. I'm sorry.”

  I could have tried, she told herself. I could have done more than scream. I...

  Renette lowered her head, until her forehead was pressed against the dirt. “Father Truth, please stop the pain. Please.”

  Get up, a voice that was not her own told her. She used to speak back to it, until what had happened with her mother... Get up.