Broken Angel (Book 1 in the Chronicles of a Supernatural Huntsman series)

by Shannon Lee Martin

  We arrived at the Union Station in Denver at six thirty in the morning. The temperature was colder than it had been in northwest Indiana, but that was to be expected for the middle of November in the mountains. I couldn’t tell if Don had really been asleep or if he had been pretending like me. The minute the train pulled into the station he was on his feet and ready to depart. We picked up our checked bags and headed for the car rental kiosk.

  The sun made its way over the tops of the giant mountains in the distant background. The sky was an inky shade of muddled blue and gray. Dark clouds hung close to the mountaintops. I hoped it wasn’t an omen of the forthcoming future. If I didn’t make it through the training as a Huntsman, I didn’t know what I would do. Returning to Indiana to get a job waiting tables with Cara wasn’t an option—not as long as the demon that took my son was still out there.

  “Come on,” Don called from the side of a dark green Jeep Wrangler.

  Lost inside my head, I hadn’t noticed he had paid for the car and pulled it around. I tossed my bag in the backseat and climbed into the passenger side. As we drove further into the mountains, my eyes felt heavy. I had been up for a full twenty-four hours. The last time I did that was when Danny had an ear infection when he was two.

  After thirty minutes of driving around winding roads tucked away between the largest mountains I had ever seen, we pulled up to a rectangular concrete building. It had rows of windows on all four floors. The exterior was dark gray. It blended in with its bare surrounding so well I wouldn’t have looked twice if we hadn’t stopped outside it. There were other similar buildings sharing the parking lot. It looked like corporate offices.

  Don parked the Jeep in the back of the empty lot and we walked the hundred yards to the entrance. There was only a few cars scattered about. The offices were apparently not open that early in the morning. It was only a few minutes past seven.

  A strong wind picked up out of nowhere and blew my sweater open. I shivered and wrapped the thick wool tightly around my waist. If I had known where we were going, I would have brought a jacket. I wouldn’t have worn my burgundy boat shoes without socks either. I had been hoping for a warmer destination, like Florida. No one would have ever guessed the Chamber of Darkness shared its secret location with Disney World—the perfect cover.

  We walked through the glass door next to the revolving one. There were no lights on in the lobby and there was no one manning the front desk. I wondered if we had to wait for the place to open before we got this show on the road, and how long that would be.

  “Do we just wait here, or—”

  Before I could finish my thought, Don had walked over to the wall of elevators and pressed the down button. There was a small ding and the doors slid open to reveal an ordinary compartment.

  “Oh, ok,” I said under my breath and followed him in.

  He reached inside the pocket of his dingy jeans and pulled out two small keys attached to a frail looped keychain. It reminded me of the ones used to open mailboxes at apartment complexes. Certainly not fancy enough to take us to the headquarters of the Chamber of Darkness. He put the silver key into the slot on the wall panel and the doors slid closed again.

  Music played dimly through the one speaker in the ceiling. It was an upbeat light jazz tune with an annoying trumpet blaring out the melody. I turned my eyes up to look at where the sound crackled out from. It threw me off. I felt like something more ominous should have been playing, like Darth Vader’s theme song from Star Wars. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I was sure it would not be filled with laughter and good times as the trumpet suggested.

  Floor after floor, we sank lower beneath the main level of the building. I wondered if it was a trick, like the elevator simulated the movement of going down, but we weren’t really. There was no way something could be that far below ground. We had passed at least ten floors and we were still going.

  Finally, after another ding, the doors slid open. I stood rooted in the elevator as I looked out past Don’s broad shoulders. It looked like we had transported into another office building—one designed by Tim Burton.

  It seemed to go on forever, but as far as I could see there was only one way in and one way out. The floors were slick black square tiles shined and waxed to perfection. The tile continued up from the floor to cover the walls. When I looked a little closer I saw that the grout holding them in place was a luminous silver that reflected off the tile, bouncing light around the room.

  Straight across from the elevator was a large circular desk with several people sitting and working furiously on thin, translucent monitors. They tapped at images and dragged them to new locations. I saw everything they did from the backs of the screens, but couldn’t understand any of it.

  Don strolled up to the woman closest to us. She was staring intently at her screen. Her thin lips moved silently as she read through the open files. Then, she touched the screen and dragged the file over where it disappeared. She was younger than I expected, close to my age I guessed, maybe a few years older. Her white-blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. Not a single hair was out of place. In the middle of reading she reached up and lifted her rectangular black frame glasses to squint her eyes before returning them to her nose. She looked professional in her fitted black pantsuit.

  “Ah, Mr. Vander,” she said without looking up from the screen. “I take it your trip went well.”

  “Yep. Thanks for asking, Linette,” he said upbeat as he patted his hands on the black and silver marbled counter rhythmically.

  Her eyes turned upward to look over her glasses. They were a chilling shade of ice-blue that accentuated her flawless, ivory skin. If it wasn’t for her bold plum lips and smoky eyes, she would have been lost in a haze of white. She tapped one more thing on the monitor and then stood up. The black heels she had on put her at least seven inches taller than me. Why she wasn’t a supermodel, I had no idea, but I suddenly felt under-dressed.

  “This way,” she said coolly.

  She walked ahead of us with her hips swinging back and forth. Each hallway ran back from the circular lobby, like the way children draw the rays of the sun. She chose one and we followed her in.

  Once we ventured further, the hallway took several twists and turns. The place was like a labyrinth. I hoped that I wouldn’t be expected to find my way out by myself, because there was no way I could. Every once in a while someone in a black suit, or even weirder, a cloak, would walk quickly past us with a clipboard or stack of papers in their hands as if they had somewhere important to be. My head was spinning in all directions to make sure I didn’t miss a single thing.

  The hall came to a dead end at a set of large, oak double doors. The wood had ornate carvings of devils and demons and creatures unknown. I took a breath and tightened my face. I was ready.

  “You’re the last to arrive,” Linette said.

  I had to strain myself to keep from rolling my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was make an entrance.

  “Someone will be with the group shortly to take you to the weapon’s locker and seamstress.”

  With that she turned and walked away.

  “Okay,” Don said as he reached a hand out and gripped the oversized vertical handle.

  He didn’t hesitate another second. The doors flung open to reveal a room the size of my old high school gymnasium, except there were no bleachers or basketball hoops. It was completely empty—no windows, no other doors, no tables or chairs. The floor and walls were all dark stone. It reminded me of a cave I went to once with my parents somewhere in Tennessee.

  On the wall to the left of the doorway was the only decoration in the entire room. It was a banner that hung from the ceiling and reached halfway down to the floor. It was a shield on black cloth with a silver shotgun and sword crossed in the middle. If it represented what I would be learning as a Huntsman, then I was on the right track.

  All eyes were on us as we entered the room. The doors shut b
ehind with a loud bang that echoed throughout the open cavernous space. Some of the men and women were middle-aged, like Don, while others seemed even younger than I was. One girl looked like she had just turned eighteen, though it could have been the round softness of her face that gave that illusion.

  We walked over to join everyone else. I suddenly and desperately wished Cara was there with me, just to have something familiar from my old life. As I reached for my neck to clutch the silver wings, a warmth spread through me.

  “Hello, Don,” a man said once we had reached the loose-knit circle of people. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Reunions aren’t really my thing,” Don answered.

  Obviously, it was someone Don had met before. He didn’t seem to like the man very much.

  “Is this what you’ve brought us?” the man said with a sneer. He nodded his head in my direction.

  I furrowed my brow and jerked my head back in offense. This? Was I a this now? I wanted to tell whoever he was that he could go to hell, but instead narrowed my eyes and fixated directly on him. His dark eyes met mine and held my gaze. As he turned his head to look away, his thin lips curled up in disgust. He walked away from Don without another word.

  “What the hell is his problem?” I asked.

  “That’s Ignatius Alexander. I trained with his younger brother. He’s a firm believer in not allowing non-descendants into the Chamber.”

  I screwed up my face. “You mean, it’s actually a big deal?”

  “It’s a big deal to a lot of people,” he answered.

  I wiped my perspiring hands on my jeans and folded my arms across my chest. Suddenly, I felt like I was on fire. The room must have been a hundred degrees.

  “That’s Ignatius’s son,” Don pointed to the young man standing at his father’s side. “You’ll want to watch out for him. He probably has the same beliefs as his father, and if they’re anything alike, they won’t make things easy for you.”

  The young Alexander looked over at me as I stared at him. He walked my way. The room quieted as he approached.

  “I’m Ryker Alexander,” he said holding out his hand.

  I reluctantly grabbed it, squeezing as hard as I could to show I wasn’t weak nor willing to be messed with. His thin, dark eyes tensed at my grip.

  “And you are?” he asked, pulling his hand away from mine and shoving it into his tight jeans pocket.

  “Kamlyn Paige.”

  He nodded his head casually. Apparently my name wasn’t on everyone’s black list yet.

  “Did you hear?” he asked with his pouted lips turned down into a judgmental frown.

  I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.

  “We’ve got a non-descendant in our group,” he spat venomously.

  His thick eyebrows lowered and seemed to cast a shadow over his already sunken eyes. I took in the features of his face as he glanced over the group.

  “I wonder who it is,” he said with his small, rounded chin raised.

  He was exactly the type of boy I actively avoided when I was in school. Most likely he was the captain of some team, probably water polo or soccer. His body was slender with little muscle or fat, like a boy just beginning the transition into manhood. His shiny brown hair was styled in a messy wave at the front, shorter on the sides. It was a style I detested, mainly because a lot of the guys who picked on me in high school for being a loner had the exact same hair. There was a sharpness to his face that immediately rubbed me the wrong way.

  “I’m the non-descendant,” I said sharply.

  Ryker turned back with his lips slightly parted, though still turned down in an ugly frown. His slender nose wrinkled.

  “You?” he said as he took a step back.

  I took a step forward. “Yeah. Me. So I’d watch who you open your mouth to in the future. It’ll help you avoid the embarrassment.”

  He leaned in a little closer with his hands still tucked into his pockets. “The only one who should be embarrassed here is you,” he hissed through his teeth like a snake ready to strike. His face pulled to the center as if a bad taste lingered in his mouth. “You won’t last one week here. I’ll make sure of that.”

  He turned and walked back over to his father, a man of equally sharp and heavy features, but with added wrinkles and a less pompous hairstyle. The two were the same height, so it was easy for Ryker to lean into his father’s ear and whisper something. They both stared at me with hate burning in their eyes.

  “What an asshole,” a tall, slender guy with black hair, tan skin, and a cheeky smile said from my left.

  “Really? I would have thought he was more of an asshat?”

  I looked over to my right and saw the same guy, or at least it looked like the same guy. They each reached an arm in front of me and bumped their fists together. I stared in bewilderment.

  “I’m Atticus,” the one on my left said. “He’s Achilles.”

  “And yes, our parents are insane.”

  “They must be, or at the very least extremely cruel.”

  I smiled despite myself.

  “Don’t let that ass, hole or hat, get to you,” Achilles said, leaning into my shoulder. “He’s just jealous there’s someone prettier than him.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  A part of me wanted to smile, but I couldn’t. I wanted to focus solely on my training, even if it hadn’t started yet. It was all I could see, like tunnel vision. I had to get through it, no matter how much trouble that Ryker Alexander thought he could cause for me.

  A girl, the one I had pegged for youngest in the group, walked up to us with a meek wave. “Hi,” she said.

  There was a moment of awkward silence as Atticus and Achilles looked at each other from the corner of their eyes. I returned the greeting.

  “Did I hear you right? You’re the other non-descendant?” she asked quietly.

  “You’re a non-descendant? I thought I was the only one!” I exclaimed a little louder than intended. A few heads nearby turned and narrowed their eyes in judgement.

  “Yeah, that’s my godmother over there,” she said, turning her head to look at a woman with black hair that matched her flowing cloak. She was talking with Don. “It’s a long story, but I grew up with her. Neither of my parents were Huntsmen, though.”

  Her sweet green eyes looked into mine and she smiled.

  “I’m Kamlyn,” I offered.

  “Holly,” she said cheerfully.

  I was surprised no one had cornered the girl to talk to her before and figured out she was a non-descendant. She stood out like a sore thumb amongst the drab group of uppity folks. Her hair was a flaming shade of ginger and fell to her lower back in tight, springy ringlets. A blanket of light freckles covered her warm skin, petite nose, and high cheeks.

  “I have a feeling they’ll pair us together,” she said with a hint of relief in her girlish voice. “Us both being the outsiders and all.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that, so long as I don’t have to be partnered up with Sir Ryker Full of Himself over there.”

  The small group laughed together and the knots in my stomach released their hold. Atticus and Achilles went back to the man I assumed was their father, though he looked absolutely nothing like the exotic twins. He was short, round in the middle, and pale-faced with red bushy hair atop his head—a true Irishman if I ever saw one.

  “Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Holly said.

  She waved as she walked away with a smile on her face, back to her godmother. I stood alone in the middle of the room for only a short moment before Don walked over. He bumped his shoulder lightly into mine.

  “That Alexander kid give you any trouble?”

  I smiled and gave a quick, breathy laugh. “I told him to shove it.”

  His mouth stretched as he tried to hold back his laughter. He nodded his head and looked over at the malicious father and son duo. “Good job, kid.”

  Suddenly, the door burst open, rendering everyone silent.
They all turned and straightened up like soldiers at attention. I tried to mimic their movement, but utterly failed to blend in. The group simultaneously relaxed their stance when a young man entered the room.

  Was he the Head of the Chamber of Darkness? If he was, I wasn’t impressed. He was normal in stature and in build. There was nothing intimidating there. His dark, straight hair swept back from his tanned forehead with either gel or sweat. I couldn’t tell. His thin, dark eyes looked bored as he slowly scanned the group and then returned his gaze to the clipboard in his hands. There was the faintest hint of a mustache on his upper bowed lip, or maybe it was dirt. Again, I couldn’t tell.

  He didn’t dress like the other people I had seen so far either. Everyone else had an air of importance and money to them, even most of the young people. These were not families who had ever had to shut off their cable service because they couldn’t afford it. They had never eaten Ramen noodles for a week straight just so they could buy real food for their children.

  “My name is David Yu. I’ll be your weapon’s instructor for the six months you’re here for training.”

  “Six months?!” I exclaimed.

  I cleared my throat as everyone stared. David Yu looked up from his clipboard, snorted, and shook his head. I thought I heard him whisper “non-descendants” under his breath, but I was too far away to be certain. He continued on despite my interruption.

  “You’ll be assigned rooms. It’s two to each one. Training hours are six at night to six in the morning. I advise you wake up early enough to eat breakfast,” he said in an echoing, but rather flat voice, as if he had said the same words a hundred times before. “Since this is a larger training group than we’re used to having we will be splitting you up into five groups of seven with one of your mentors taking on the role as group mentor. That is who you’ll be going out on your practice hunts with, while your individual mentors will remain available to you for personal guidance when needed. Now, if you’ll all follow me I can provide you with your uniforms before the initiation. You’re to wear them for the remainder of your time here.”

  He didn’t look up from his clipboard once before he turned and exited out through the double doors. I looked over at Holly and she shrugged her shoulders. Several others did this as well. Reluctantly, we all followed him out of the room and down the hall.

  The Swearing

  in Ceremony