Fated Souls
Page 3
The world of the Caelestia.
Freedom. The brightness of the azure sky and twin suns engulf the landscape. Their world is brighter than anything I ever imagined. Spires on nearby buildings twist upwards. The shining metal looks fluid against the background. In the distance lies countryside; the green patches stretching to the horizon. A paradise compared to the grey, shitty Fated life.
This. My first real glimpse of the world I’m battling to live in. The journey to the training academy took place astrally, as we were teleported from one world to another. We haven’t left the building in the three days since we arrived—always under harsh lights. The lack of natural air and light closes in.
“Sit down.”
Lost in my dreams of a life in the world outside the window, I’m dragged back to my current situation by the cold tones of the man. I obey and sit on the only vacant chair, opposite him. Hard grey eyes startle me. Once again, I expected someone who looked Caelestia—blond and fair skinned—but this guy is nothing like that. His pale face is drawn into a tired and irritated scowl. His black hair is scraped from his face, accentuating his angular features.
“Ava.”
“Hello.”
He cocks an eyebrow but doesn’t return the greeting, instead focusing on the manila file.
“I have your papers here, everything seems in order.” Between fingers with black painted nails, he picks up a piece of card and writes my name on the top. Leaning back in his encompassing chair, he places both hands on the expansive wooden desk.
“You understand your role?”
“I think so.”
His scowl becomes a sneer. “You think so? The task is self-explanatory. You kill demons, capture the souls they stole from humans, and return them to me. Once you have returned enough, you may have your Will.”
Enough? Which is how many exactly? “Okay.”
“Any questions?”
Hundreds, so many questions, I can barely form them all. The look on the man’s face doesn’t invite them.
“Who are you?” I blurt eventually.
To my relief, a smile tips the corners of his mouth. “I’m Darius. I’m your supervisor, and your actions are my responsibility. If you make mistakes or transgress, I will deal with your fate.”
I nod robotically, absorbing the information. Transgressions? Surely killing demons and bringing back souls doesn’t lend itself to transgressions? “I only want to collect the souls and claim my Will. I won’t cause trouble.”
Darius picks up some papers and taps them on the desk. “A sensible course of action. Let’s hope you don’t make any mistakes… accidentally.”
He glances up, eyes holding a warning. Then he looks back down and waves me away with his hand. Unsure what to do next, I half-rise. No, I have other questions, including one nobody else answers when I ask. I lower back into my seat.
“What happens? When I have my Will?”
“Then you are free. You can join a new world.”
Outside the window, the brightness beckons. “I won’t return to the Fated once I do?”
Darius’s smile grows. “You will never return to your old world. You’re a soul hunter now.”
6
Identical daggers lie in a row on the table, which runs along the whole side of the room. Gleaming metal and a carved black handle I itch to curve my hand around. Finally… Daniel stands in the doorway, arms across his chest as usual, as he counts in each soul hunter as they enter the room. Despite our conversation yesterday, he doesn’t pay me any attention. The sinking disappointment in my stomach annoys me as much as his lack of interest.
“Where’s Anna?”
The band of black-clad teenagers look around, figuring out who is missing.
“She left.”
I turn my head towards the speaker, a tall lanky boy. I’ve not paid enough attention to the others who train with me, so I’ve no idea who he means. Can you even do that—leave? Darius’s words about never returning to the Fated echo in my mind.
“Left where?” I ask.
“Back to the Fated. I think Darius frightened her off.”
A nervous giggle spreads through the group. My scalp crawls as Daniel’s eyes narrow, and I recall Darius’s words. I don’t think the Caelestia would send anyone back to the Fated with the secrets we learn here. I don’t want to think what’s happened to her.
“Okay, not my problem,” says Daniel and strolls towards the table to pick up one of the daggers.
“Well, today is the day Ava has been waiting for.” He holds the dagger towards me. Crap. Not again. Why am I singled out? “Come on, Ava.”
The girl seated next to me mutters a comment about “special treatment,” and I stiffen. “How the hell is someone holding a dagger out to me special treatment?”
“I’m not talking about the dagger.”
“Then what do you mean?”
The girl arches an eyebrow. “You know exactly what I mean.”
“Ava. Now.” Daniel’s terse tone doesn’t escape me.
I scrape my chair and stand. “Wow. You have no manners. A polite please wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
The small laugh Daniel gives is accompanied by a nervous laugh from the group again. “I don’t need to say please to you, Ava.”
I stalk across the room and stop short of Daniel, pulling myself as close to his height as possible. He’s told me his game, and I can play it too. Mr Hot and Cold Nice and Nasty. Screw him. He is not humiliating me ever again. I run my tongue along my bottom lip, eyes fixed on his. Daniel’s eyes widen as I reach out and fold my fingers around his hand holding the dagger. Daniel’s skin is softer than I imagined it would be, and as soon as I move my fingers to brush his arm, he stiffens. With the lightest touch, I trace the scars on Daniel’s arm.
“Was that a demon?” I whisper, looking up at him from under my eyelashes.
For a few moments, he doesn’t react, as if I’ve stunned him. Despite my racing heart, a smug satisfaction comes over me, and I smile at him, wanting to laugh.
“You don’t know who you’re playing with, Ava. Be very careful.” The words are inaudible to everyone but me, and the threat trips a shiver through my entire body.
Daniel steps back, snatching his arm away. “Take the dagger and sit back down.” The loud words freeze the murmur going around the room.
“No problem.” I nonchalantly take the dagger, ensuring my fingers slide against his.
Turning back to the class, I flip the dagger in my hands as I saunter back to my desk. But my heart thumps against my chest. Have I overstepped the line? I resume my seat and slam the point of the dagger into the desk. The girl next to me sniggers, and I turn an unimpressed look towards her.
“What is your problem?” I ask.
“You never change do you? I don’t think your schoolgirl behaviour will get you far in this world. You need to grow the hell up.”
Yeah, I never paid attention in class back at school either and backchatted at every opportunity. Most of my time in the last couple of years I spent daydreaming about how to escape the suffocating world of the Fated. What use was school to me?
I ignore her.
“One dagger each.” Daniel crosses the room, placing a knife on each desk, avoiding mine. “How you conceal the dagger when in the field is up to you. Just make sure you have easy access to it at all times. If you’re amongst humans, keep your weapon hidden. They don’t appreciate you waving them around. Capture by human authorities is a transgression and something that will cause you big trouble.” He glances at me.
I won’t respond to Daniel again. Sure, I’ll listen, but until I figure out his motivation behind this weird behaviour, I’m backing off.
Daniel pulls a glinting sphere from his pocket and sets it on the desk next to him. The light in the room picks out an aurora borealis rainbow, causing a glowing effect. “Soul crystals. No prizes for guessing what these are for.”
I shift back in my chair, disappointed. Daggers. I want t
o know how to use the daggers.
Again, he circles the room placing a crystal on each table. I gingerly pick mine up. The light bounces off the surface, scattering rainbows across the room. The patterns from the other students’ crystals join, and I’m in awe as the space around me fills with colour. The sphere is surprisingly light—would it be heavier with a soul inside?
The girl next to me raises a hand. “How do we put the souls into the crystals?”
“They go themselves. Kill a demon, hold this out, and the soul will enter the crystal. I can’t show you how this works, you’ll only see when you’re in the field,” says Daniel.
“So no demons to practice on?” asks Tom.
Daniel wrinkles his nose. “Demons can’t exist here. They can’t make their way through the barriers. Even if we had one to… practice on, the creature would disintegrate within seconds of someone bringing it into our world.”
“Even Nephilim?” I ask, unable to help myself. The images of the Nephilim won’t leave my mind. Something strangely familiar lies behind them. They look Caelestia but no longer are, and I want to know their story. How can Nephilim be demons? What could override the angelic nature of these creatures?
Daniel ignores me, and I can’t decide if this is due to my impertinence or because I asked a question, he doesn’t want to answer.
In the large cafeteria, I sit alone with my tray, picking at the bland rice and vegetables on the plate. No upgrade from the Fated food here. Stabbing a piece of potato with my fork, I shove the morsel into my mouth. Across the grey tiled floor, two tables hold the rest of the soul hunter trainees. Few speak. I refused to join an existing table early on, and this has been interpreted as arrogance because nobody ever joins me. The weird crap between Daniel and me ostracises me further. Do I care? No. We’ll all be alone once we finish training; what’s the point in making friends? I’ll be used to the solitude.
Those around me finish their meals and leave. I remain and survey my surroundings as I eat. The training building is as uniform as the Fated world but cleaner. Grey doors spaced evenly along white painted hallways. Everything is exact. Pristine. Sterile. The fluorescent lights run in long strips. The brightness hurts my eyes, and the only natural light I’ve seen since arriving was through the window in Darius’s office. Perpetual day exists here too—the only way to tell time passing is clocks on the walls.
Lost in thoughts about my soul hunter life ahead, and the one I’ll have after that, I don’t notice Daniel approach. Shit. This time I study my plate. No. Remember the mantra: Confident. Show no weakness. It doesn’t help when my betraying heart beats faster every time he’s close. Worse still, I don’t think this is only fear. I attempt to keep my eyes fixed on his face, not take in the way his T-shirt stretches across well-toned biceps, or how the strong hands, which kill demons, could touch me again.
Daniel pauses, scans the room, then fixes his green eyes on mine. His eyes capture me in the same way as yesterday. The connection between us passes when we lock gazes. Get a grip. I stare back in challenge, hoping he’s not as aware of my breath shortening as I am.
“Ava, I need you to be a little more… humble. I know you’re used to drawing attention to yourself, but you’re drawing attention to me.”
What the hell? “You started this!”
Daniel rubs his temples. “And you have to grow up. Listen to yourself.”
My face heats. “And training to kill demons isn’t growing up?”
Only a couple of stragglers remain in the eating area, and a middle-aged woman with her brown hair pulled into a ponytail collects empty trays. Daniel slides into the seat opposite.
“Tomorrow you’re in the field, and I need you to show me how you can listen and follow instructions. Your survival depends on your ability to learn this.”
Now my increased heart rate has nothing to do with him. “Tomorrow? We’ve only had three days training!”
Today we practiced our combat skills repeatedly sparring with each other, then moved to stabbing training dummies in their fake hearts until I could kill them blindfolded if I wanted. I learnt quicker than the others, of course. Then I sat at my desk and watched. I studied Daniel too, but he didn’t look at me again.
I expected more—days or weeks practicing combat and preparing mentally as well as physically to enter the human world.
“That’s everything we teach. You learn on the job.”
I push down the fear leaking into my system, the meal in front of me even less appetising than five minutes ago.
“You’ll be okay, Ava. If you listen to me. But please no more stunts like the one in class. People are noticing my interest in you.”
Interest? A strange feeling flutters across my chest, stomach tightening as I try to gauge what he means by the words. He says he wants to help me survive—but why me? Daniel’s hot and cold reactions spin me out, and I’m annoyed he’s fuelling my stupid teenage crush on this equally hot guy. He may’ve blinked away the look in his eyes when I touched him in class, but his expression spoke to me. Back home, I never had time to be close to a lot of guys. The ones I did let touch me held the same look as I’m sure I catch in Daniel’s expression. Back then, I responded a few times and half-heartedly, but this desire to touch Daniel is more than half-hearted.
I push down the stupid reaction, telling myself his power and status as a seasoned soul hunter catches me and pulls me to him, the same way the girls at school crushed on the more attractive teachers. Nothing else.
“Yeah, well. I’m pretty special.” I shake my hair from my face and focus on my meal, knowing full well he’ll see through my bravado.
The following silence sends my thoughts haywire. I’m aware of his scrutiny, and my face burns.
“You’re funny, Ava. I like that in you,” he says eventually.
The food sticks in my throat, and I’m unable to reply. I swallow hard. “What’s so funny?”
“Your act. The scared little Fated girl turned big brave soul hunter. The problem is, you need to believe in your new persona, and I don’t think you do.”
“It’s not a persona,” I retort.
Daniel reaches across the table and places his hand on mine. Warmth. Softness. The sensation jolts the desire back to life, and I snatch my hand away. Nobody touches me unless I want them to. Daniel rubs his fingers together, and he smiles. “Sure it isn’t.”
I put my fork on the table. “I’m done. Did you want anything else?”
“I guess we’ll see how special you are when you meet your first demon.” Daniel rises.
Instead of walking away, he places both palms on the table and leans across, face close to mine. Warm breath tickles my cheek, and he remains silent for a few seconds, mouth close to mine.
“Am I wasting my time here?” he whispers.
No weakness. I pull my head back and narrow my eyes. “By training me? No, I’ll be a bloody great soul hunter.”
A genuinely amused look crosses his features, replacing his game face. “I’m sure you will be.”
As he walks away, I sit on my shaking hands relieved no other trainees were around to witness our exchange.
7
I stagger as the ground reappears under my feet, engulfed by the sensation someone tore out my insides and shoved them back in the wrong places. I reach out to touch the nearby bricks, steadying myself.
The human world.
Minutes earlier, I grouped with the other soul hunters waiting to be transported here. One flash of light later, I arrived, and through the darkness, I take my first real look at the place the demons live. The afternoon of boredom, studying maps and pictures of the place I’m assigned, now seems more helpful than it did at the time. The yellow light from the lamp post on the city street illuminates the entrance to an alley and wooden crates piled against the walls. I’m unnerved because no one is with me in the alley. Great, they dropped me in the middle of the demon’s favoured combat area. Alone. Do I wait? Hunt one? For a few minutes, I hover near
the wall expecting someone else to appear in a flash of light. No one comes.
With shaking hands, I check the dagger in my jacket hasn’t dematerialised during my trip down. Still there. I rub my aching head. Daniel said we would be paired for our first mission. Where’s my partner?
Blood thumps through my ears as I approach the end of the alleyway and peer out. A sleek black car passes, and a group of girls walk by, chatting and oblivious. There’s nothing remarkable about them—they could be Fated. We look human. Or maybe demons. No, not Fated. The easygoing aura and colourful variety in their clothing isn’t available to the Fated. Whether they’re demons or humans, I don’t care. My reaction is a hateful jealousy; the humans are free and look at what I have to face to achieve their freedom.
The place is familiar and unfamiliar at the same time—as if someone has taken the Fated world and injected a rainbow of colours into the space and poured in happiness. I back against the wall, overwhelmed by the sights and sounds around me. How can I hunt demons in a place I don’t understand? This first mission is for a few hours with no time to acclimatise. I chew on a nail, wondering how long until the others arrive.
Footsteps approach from the alley behind, and I automatically curl my hand around my dagger as I turn. Daniel. He’s changed into soul hunter clothing, and the fact the uniform looks sexier on him than all the other male recruits put together doesn’t escape me. The litheness of his movements and his long legs in perfect-fitting jeans draw my gaze as he approaches. My heartbeat picks up further. When I look to his face, Daniel’s expression indicates he’s aware of my scrutiny. I look away relieved he can’t see my heating cheeks in the dimness of the alley. Fear of this situation is enough to deal with.
“Where’re the others?” I ask.
“Just you and me.” He grabs my arm.
“But I thought…?”
“Finish this and quickly.” Daniel drags me back into the alleyway and drops his grip.
What does he want me to do? I spin around, searching the shadows. Nothing. “Finish what?”
“Wait over there.” He points to a space opposite, in the darkness of an overhanging building.