They fell into a tangle in the middle of the courtyard. Mona was smaller and more agile, and landed the first strike with an elbow to the demon’s gut. It seemed to stun him, and she used the opening to slip into a full mount position.
Thanks to her deranged mentor, Mona had plenty of practice at using spells in close quarters combat. Words of summoning rolled off her tongue in snappy recitation. But even flat on his back, the shadow demon had a long reach. He punched Mona square on the chin with one of his lanky arms, sending her rocking. Her head snapped back, and she nearly bit the tip of her tongue. Somehow she kept the spell going, spitting out the last words as she kept the demon pinned with magically enhanced strength.
She held out her right hand and an ice-blue shard the length of a longsword began to crystalize in the air above the demon. Roars from bears, giant cats and other predators rang through the courtyard. From the corner of her eye Mona saw a puma leap from the shadows of the second floor balcony—only to be chopped in half by a nimble ghoul.
“No!” she screamed. That had been a student, maybe a friend. “Goddamn you!”
The ghoul laughed and licked the shifter’s blood from the blade of the scimitar.
It’s my fault she died. I led everyone into this mess, right from the very beginning.
Mona put all of her rage into summoning the crystal shard. It grew larger, as thick as a baseball bat. Her magic continued to flow into it—and suddenly she was no longer in control.
The behelit had detected her heavy use of magic and opened its connection. Mona tried to cut it off, but it was like trying to stop a broken dam. Her body became a conduit for the behelit’s magic, and through her, also the shard.
Mona’s face was flushed, feverishly hot. She blacked out for a second and came back to consciousness feeling light headed and tired. Sensing her weakness, the shadow demon rolled out from under her and took off with two flaps of his wings. It was at that exact moment that the shard reached its maximum capacity, exploding right at the demon’s waist and dangling feet.
Mona was rocked onto her ass. When she looked up, the demon was howling in pain. One of his legs had been completely blown off. The rest of him from waist down was a red mess. He flapped his wings awkwardly, a lopsided flight barely carrying him over the roof of the Shifters Hall and out of sight.
Mona groaned and picked herself up off the cool grass. Her connection with the behelit had once again closed. It left her magic completely recharged, yet she felt depleted, like an old elastic band.
I really need to get to the library and figure out how to use this thing.
The urge to reopen the connection was strong. The behelit had nearly killed her, but in doing so it showed the vast power at her disposable. Mona gulped, throat dry as she imagined the possibilities.
Revenge will be mine, and more—so much more.
Sounds of fighting echoed loudly through the courtyard, but Mona’s head was ringing and she still couldn’t see straight. A putrid odor washed over her. She spun around saw a ghoul standing right behind her, raising its bloody scimitar to finish her off. Dread ached in her stomach. She scrambled backwards and tried to stand, but she knew it was too late.
Out of nowhere a lion leaped over her head, bowled into the ghoul and began biting and clawing it apart. After about three seconds the ghoul was no longer moving. Mona took a stand on shaky legs, wiped the sweat from her brow and moved to the open corridor at the side of the courtyard. There she leaned with one hand against a pillar, breathing deeply and slowly recovering from the spell.
While she had been battling the shadow demon, the rest of the shifters had emerged from the shadows and engaged with the ghouls. Two shifters had fallen to the ghoul’s scimitars, but their sacrifice had not been in vain. The junior students were nowhere to be seen—not a single body, meaning they had made it inside. It was a small relief in what was otherwise an apocalyptic situation.
Mona watched as the shifters slowly trapped the three remaining ghouls, forcing them into a back-to-back circle. But from there, they were unable to make the kill. Several minutes passed and the ghouls remained standing, slashing their scimitars through the air to ward off attacks.
It was clear that the shifters could rush the ghouls and finish them. There must have been about twenty of them in animal form pacing and growling in the courtyard. Two grizzly bears towered over the rest, but none wanted to leap into harm’s way. A careless swipe of a paw could easily cost a shifter several fingers, if not a hand.
The ghouls had proven deadly with their blades. Twice Mona saw them lunge forward and score a slice against one of the shifters. It was far from the mindless, hungry behaviour that ghouls are known for. There was definitely something special about these three, and not just their wings. Those were the shadow demon’s work. What gave Mona pause was the cold intelligence gleaming in their beady eyes.
It was as if a greater intelligence had possessed the ghouls and started issuing commands.
The shadow demon lives.
It was the only explanation. Unless, of course, another demon had arrived at the Academy. One capable of mind controlling ghouls from at least a mile away.
What was it that the shadow demon said back on the rooftop? Mona shut her eyes tight and tried to remember.
Our lord does not like to be kept waiting.
At the time, the words had meant nothing. Mona had been focused on keeping the juniors safe and leading the shadow demon towards the Shifters Hall. Only there in the courtyard did the full meaning sink in.
It’s as the council predicted, she thought. The creatures of the Nine Hells were the first to arrive. We just didn’t see them because of the storm.
The shadow demon was likely a scout for his army, sent to steal the seed before other factions, like the fae, could get their hands on it. And he might not have come alone. The campus was large, with many buildings to search. For all Mona knew, there were twenty more shadow demons slinking around the Academy grounds.
It was time the junior students had a place to stay. The storm had only delayed the invasion of hell spawn, providing a brief pause in the battle she had witnessed earlier. Any minute the creatures could return and renew their attack. But of all the places to be on campus, the Shifters Hall was easily one of the safest. Now that the students had made it that far there was no reason for them to move again.
The Master of the shifters stood watching from the balcony. She was wizened and hunched over a cane, far too old to take her shifter form. Magic, however, does not fade with age.
A wave of her hand and brown roots curled out of the ground at the ghouls’ feet, twisting around their legs and holding them in place. At first that seemed all the roots were going to do, but after a moment a series of sharp cracks came from within the circle. The ghouls shrieked in chorus and tumbled out of sight, making easy targets for the shifters, who pounced on them from every direction.
Mona’s temperature was going down, and she finally caught her breath. It didn’t feel like her near overload with the behelit had caused any lasting damage. With luck, she would still reach the library before it was too late.
A trio of shifters removed themselves from the frenzy taking place over the ghouls and came in Mona’s direction. They changed back to their human forms mid-step, revealing themselves as Clint, Fenix and Laura. Seeing them put a hole in Mona’s steely resolve. Laura and her ran into each other’s arms and hugged tight. “Thank god you’re ok,” Laura said.
Big tears welled in Mona’s eyes. “Me?” she sobbed. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop crying, doofus,” said Clint, fixing Mona with his crooked smile. “Nothin’ new about killing hell spawn.”
Fenix ruffled Mona’s hair playfully, the way he had done ever since the first day they met in 9th grade. He was the same age as Mona but liked pretending he was her older brother.
Being around them finally made it ok to feel scared. The tension Mona had been carrying around with her came
out all in a burst, but getting rid of the guilt wouldn’t be so easy. Shifters had died because she led the ghouls to their hall. That was something that would keep her up at night for a long time.
“Kelendril told us what happened,” said Laura. Clint opened the door and they went inside the Shifter Hall.
“You know about the seed?”
“Everyone does,” said Fenix. “It was crazy what you and Zyzz did to save it from the demons. You’re practically living legends.”
Mona opened her mouth to give a confused reply and shut it again. They don’t know about my bond with the behelit. The Masters decided to keep that information a secret.
Mona wanted to tell them all about it, but she had learned her lesson from the junior students. She wasn’t going to get anyone involved who didn’t have to be, especially if they were her friends. It was a betrayal, in a way, by not telling them. If it was Laura keeping the secret, Mona would be pissed.
Mona sighed. The risk was just too high. If they got a glimpse of the hole she had dug herself into, they would be jumping in without a second thought. That was exactly what she wanted to avoid.
“Oh, yeah?” Mona said. “You think the Demon Hunter Guild will take me now?”
“Actually,” said Clint. “A group of them arrived last night through the waygate. You’ll see them soon enough.”
Hearing the news lifted her spirits. Demon Hunters were serious badasses. If they were here, it meant the Academy had a chance at surviving the night. It also meant someone up top thought a real hell storm was on the way.
“Where are they?”
He shrugged. “Patrolling the campus, probably.”
“I need to get a message to them. The shadow demon—”
A message from Kelendril popped into Mona’s head, scrambling her train of thought.
Where are you? Why aren’t you at the auditorium?
“Kelendril,” she said, answering her friends’ worried glances.
Ghouls, Mona lied. I’m at the—she purposefully cut out, as if struggling with her telepathy—students are fine. Tell the magi an attack is coming.
Tell me where you are.
Mona didn’t answer. Kelendril was her mentor, but only a fool would think he had loyalty for her alone. She trusted him to teach her battle magic and how to fight with sword and dagger. Anything else was beyond their relationship and rife with uncertainty. One thing for sure was that she had gotten mixed up in something way over her head. None of the council members could be trusted. Kelendril might steer them in a direction that made Mona less expendable, but at the end of the day it was they who gave the orders. She couldn’t even blame them for wanting to use her like a piece on a chessboard. The life of one student, after all, meant little compared to the balance of power between humans and fae.
“News?” Laura asked. She flopped down on a worn couch that looked like it belonged in a frat house. A fire crackled in a large stone hearth. More shifters started coming in through the front door. They had turned back to human form, and were all naked from waist up. Except for Lydia, the Master shifter, who came inside last, her cane tapping rhythmically on wooden floor. She smiled at Mona, face full of wrinkles, and made her way to the couch.
20
As it turned out, the crime scene was the councillor’s house. A mansion high in the hills of San Francisco.
Suri parked out front. Logan flashed his badge to the lonely enforcer on duty, who opened the gate and joined them on the other side.
“You were supposed to be here five hours ago,” the enforcer said. It was the tone of someone who had been angry, then calmed down to a simmering resentment.
“Sorry,” said Logan. “Got held up.”
“Shifter girls turned you down, huh?” He laughed, mockingly.
Logan didn’t even look at him. Didn’t seem like he cared at all. He was used to it, Suri could tell.
She was getting the feeling that Logan wasn’t particularly well-liked in the force.
The enforcer unlocked the door. “Welcome to Boyde Weathers’ place,” he said. “Enjoy the mess.” Then he was gone, walking quickly back out the front gate. He locked the chain around the it, padlock clanging off the metal. Got in his car and screeched off into the night.
“A magi councillor lived here?” Suri asked, stepping inside. It was totally dark. No police tape, or anything that would make ungifted suspicious.
“Guess so,” Logan replied. “Here’s the rundown. He was a no-show at a recent meeting. The other councillors tried to contact him with magic. Nothing. Last night, they sent an enforcer to investigate. This is what he saw.” Logan flicked on the light.
Furniture was broken, and scattered all over the floor. Paintings hung crooked on the wall, while others were on the ground. Holes in them from where a foot went through. The couch was torn up. Big slashes in it, from what could have been a knife. White stuffing was all over the floor around it.
Otherwise, it would have been a nice place. Three, white columns lined the walls on two sides. It was easy to tell that this had once been a nice living room. Even smashed, the furniture looked more expensive than five months rent.
Logan and Suri walked into the room slowly, water dripping from their boots and jackets. The councillor had an interesting sense of style. The architecture fit the image of someone rich and powerful. Esteemed. But the shag carpet and sex paintings showed a different side to councillor Weathers. He had transformed the place into his own version of Playboy Mansion.
The bar, set against one of the walls, was made of mahogany. The type of thing you would expect to see in a “gentleman’s club.” Logan went over to it, waved Suri to join him.
A few lines of cocaine were set on the counter. Next to it was a small, glass cutting board with more cocaine on it, and a metal tube. The shelves on the other side of the bar counter were full of hard liquor. No beer or wine for Mr. Weathers.
Logan rubbed his black beard, scribbled in his Moleskine notebook, and moved on. He walked around the room in no particular direction. Looking at this and that. Gently touching objects, but leaving everything undisturbed. Making Suri think of a grandmother shopping in an antiques store.
Suri tried to get into his mindset. Wandered around at her own pace, keeping her eyes open for details.
She paused at one of the paintings. Nearly blushed.
On it was a highly detailed, and explicit, picture of a human male and fae woman engaged in intercourse. Her legs were locked around his tight buttocks. Nails digging into his back. Holding him to her as he thrusted. It was set in a summer meadow. The two figures hidden by long grass as ordinary humans walked on a trail a dozen paces away.
Raindrops smacked hard against the windows, driven by a fierce wind. Thunder boomed, loud, and near. The yard outside, a well-groomed garden circling the mansion, now and then lit up by forks of lightning. The storm was building in power.
“Looks like a storm front’s moving in,” said Logan. “Might have to stay the night.”
Suri frowned. It was far from how she’d planned the day to end.
Her head pounded. The blood under her left nostril had dried, crusty, and itchy. She ran her hands through wet hair. Did what she could to work out the easier knots. She should really keep it shorter. But every time she goes to the salon, she chickens out.
“What should I be looking for?” Suri asked.
“Everything. The more we know, the better.” Logan held his iPhone in a hairy hand. Snapped a picture of one of the paintings. They were all pretty much the same as the one Suri had looked at before.
“Really?” she said. “You saving that for later?”
Logan grinned. “I don’t know. The wife wouldn’t like that very much.”
“Oh,” Suri said, disappointed that her little jab had been so easily shut down.
“Five years. Academy sweetheart.” He shrugged. “It’s good.”
“I didn’t see a ring. And the club… I thought…”
Logan laughe
d. “You see the DJ?”
“Yeah,” Suri said, slowly, as she tried to remember. “Bobcat shifter with dreadlocks. Looked Asian.”
“That’s my girl,” said Logan. The best smile of the night lit up his face. “She’s a killer DJ. I go to watch and have a drink.”
“You don’t wear a ring.”
“Most enforcers don’t. Gives too much away. Rogue mage sees it, suddenly he has a target. Can lead to…well, nothing good.” His smile disappeared. A shadow passed over his face. An old memory.
Suri wasn’t going to pry. Not yet, anyway.
Logan rubbed his beard and stepped around her. “Let’s check out the upstairs.”
Clothes lay haphazardly over the stairs. Two dress shirts hanging from the railing. Pants, sock and briefs balled up and left to be walked over.
Logan sniffed. Lifted one of the shirts with his pen. Angled it so Suri could see the dots of blood. Logan touched one with his finger tip. It came back slightly wet.
“Why are we on the case?” Suri asked. It was strange. Only occurred to her now that there should be team of enforcers with them. Masters from the Academy. Heck, even the Demon Hunters. A missing councillor as a big deal. Boyde Weathers is…was…the supreme authority over mages in San Francisco. He was missing. House trashed. Yet the only people inside his place were her and Logan. Suri had been so caught up in Faerie, the club, and the attack at Magic Dragon Noodle that it hadn’t struck her as odd. “Shouldn’t there be a whole team of people here?”
Logan kept walking. Opened the door to the nearest room and went inside, with Suri close behind. “You’re finally starting to ask the right questions,” he said. “I’ve been wondering about that from the moment we met.” He shook his head. Eyes passing over the sex toys and BDSM equipment filling the room. An ‘80s porno movie played on a 40-inch flat screen against the wall. Besides being depraved, nothing looked amiss. He shut the door and continued down the hall.
“I’m not an enforcer,” Suri said. “All I have is a decent third sight.”
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