by H G Lynch
I blinked, surprised by the suggestion. “Um . . . sure.”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling kindly behind his glasses. “I’ll talk to one of the tutors and arrange the first meeting for tomorrow after class. That okay?”
I nodded.
He touched his glasses again. “Good. I’ll see you in class tomorrow then, Ruairidh.”
As predicted, Angus was waiting in the hallway for me when I left the classroom. My mood instantly darkened at the sight of him leaning against the lockers. He straightened when he saw me.
“So what was that about?” he asked.
I ignored him and walked straight down the hall toward the front of the building, needing an escape and knowing I wouldn’t find one—not with my brother tailing me like a lost frickin’ puppy dog.
“Hey, I asked what that was about? You getting kicked out or something?” There was an annoying gleam of hope in his voice.
I whirled on him. “Where’s your girlfriend? Go and annoy her instead of following me about,” I barked.
He just shrugged. “She had to get home to look after her brother,” he said automatically, not denying she was his girlfriend.
For some reason, that annoyed me even more.
Then he added, “Plus, I need to follow you around.”
I snarled. “Because you enjoy bugging the crap out of me?”
“No. Well, yeah, that too. But I also promised Mum I’d make sure you didn’t get arrested.”
Just as I’d thought, he was Mummy’s good little errand boy. “Well, aren’t you a super little Mummy’s boy. Have a cookie.” My voice was scathing, and I didn’t care. I’d tried playing nice for months, and he’d given me nothing but glowers and snark in return. I was done trying to make friends.
Angus shook his head at me. “You’re such an ass.”
“And you’re a fucking angel, right? Last I heard, angels don’t get laid, so what you going to do with that girlfriend of yours? Hey, tell her if she wants a real guy, she can come to me and I’ll—”
Angus whipped around and slammed his fist into my jaw. Pain flared bright along my jaw. It was a good hit, and just what I’d been aiming for. I raised my head, fists clenched, and met my brother’s eyes. There was fury in his gaze, his teeth gritted. I’d never seen him so angry.
He stood toe to toe with me, a couple of inches shorter, and spat, “Don’t fucking talk about Islay like that, you bastard. You don’t know her. Stay the hell away from her and from me.”
Suddenly, all the fight drained from my body, leaving me weary and tired. I sighed, backing off. “Yeah, sure,” I muttered. God, was there any end to the pit of guilt and self-hatred I was tumbling into? Or was I just going to keep going and going until, well, I didn’t even know what. Until a demon ripped me apart, I guess.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Look, I’m sorry, Angus. I—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He turned and stormed off, slamming open the front doors of the college so hard, the metal banged against the wall. I stood in the empty hallway, staring after him and feeling the weight of my failed Maths homework in my bag. And that Catchi demon was still gnawing at my thoughts.
I was fucking everything up lately.
Chapter Eight
** Islay **
God, why me? Why. Me. No, I knew it was me because Mr Collins was a cunning, evil man. I used to like him as a teacher. Until today. Until he told me who I would be tutoring today.
I glanced across the room at Ruairidh. He was slouching in his seat, leaning back, legs stretched out under his desk, not even pretending to be paying attention to what Collins was writing on the board. He was looking out the window, tapping his fingers on his desk as if he couldn’t wait to escape the hall, his tattooed forearm flexing with the repetitive motion. He chewed on his lower lip, the ring in the right corner of his mouth flashing. His black hair was a tumbled mess, as if he hadn’t bothered to brush it that morning, and annoyingly, it was kind of sexy on him.
I huffed, irritated by his good looks and his obvious disinterest in learning, and he whipped his head around as if he’d heard my near silent sigh of annoyance. His gaze locked right on me, and I flinched. His eyes were forest-green, so dark in the shadow of his crunched brows that they were almost black.
As he stared at me, I felt my throat grow tight and my heart start hammering. An ache started between my legs. There was something so intense in his gaze, something almost animal about him. It was scary and dangerously attractive.
Hell, I was losing my mind. I shouldn’t be attracted to Ruairidh, for a number of reasons. One was that, by all accounts, he was an arsehole with a criminal record. Another was that I’d heard he was a slut when it came to girls, and it was rumoured he was vicious in bed. Not that I planned on finding out. I blushed just at the thought.
And shit, he was still staring at me. Ruairidh’s mouth curled up at one corner in a sexy-as-hell smirk, as if he knew what I was thinking about, and I blushed deeper before tearing my eyes away from him determinedly. But I could still feel him watching me. I refused to squirm and give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under my skin.
Plus, there was a third reason I could not be attracted to Ruairidh Finnegan, and that reason was that I was pretty sure I was kind of crushing on his brother.
Yeah. I was totally crushing on Angus. I didn’t know where the hell it had come from, or if it had been inside me all along, and I just hadn’t realised it until he’d tried to kiss me. He was my best friend, had been for years, but now, I couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if my baby brother hadn’t woken up and interrupted us that afternoon. And if Angus’s Mum hadn’t called about Ruairidh possibly getting arrested. Clearly, that hadn’t happened, and I was ashamed to feel a twinge of disappointment about it, even if it was just for Angus’s sake.
From what I could tell, Angus and his brother weren’t getting on any better than they had been, and as a result, since Ruairidh was grounded and always at home, Angus was at mine almost every night. I was grateful for that, partly because I could use the help looking after Peter, and partly because it made me feel less lonely while my dad was working late. In spite of our almost kiss, things between Angus and me were as easy as ever. We joked and laughed, Angus helped himself to whatever was in the kitchen, and I kicked back while he played with Peter.
It was only when I laid Peter down for a nap that things were different. Not uncomfortable, as such, but there was a certain tension in the air, as if we were both thinking about continuing where we’d left off on Saturday. He hadn’t tried to kiss me again, though, and I wasn’t bold enough to initiate it, but I knew it was on both of our minds.
Finally, I felt Ruairidh’s gaze slide away from me, and I relaxed. Chewing my lip, I stared at the back of Angus’s head in the desk in front of me. His chestnut hair was a mop of tight waves curling around the nape of his neck. His shoulders flexed under his blazer as he leaned forward in his chair, copying down notes from the board.
Before Ruairidh had come, almost every girl had wanted to be Angus’s girlfriend. He was smart, attractive, funny, friendly, and popular. Everything you could want in a guy. I used to laugh at those girls and their simpering adoration, but now, I thought I was starting to understand.
** Ruairidh **
I knew Islay had told Angus she was going to be tutoring me when he stomped over to my table at lunch and threw himself angrily into the seat across from me. I barely looked up from my mashed potatoes and said, “Come to warn me off your girlfriend again?”
He growled at me like a fucking pissed-off puppy dog, and I bit down on a smirk.
“She’s only tutoring you because Collins told her she had to. So, you show up at the library, meet her, study, and then leave. That’s it. Got me? And, I know this is a stretch for you, but try acting like a decent human being. Otherwise, I’ll knock your teeth out.”
Stabbing my mash, which had gone cold and hadn’t been particularly warm to start w
ith, I muttered, “Whatever you say, baby bro.” There was no rancour behind my words—I was too tired to bitch. The nightmares seemed to be getting worse, instead of better, and I couldn’t stop obsessing over that Catchi demon that had gotten away.
Angus glared at me, searching for signs I was mocking him. After a moment, he seemed both surprised and somewhat satisfied when he didn’t find any. “Good. Glad you understand me,” he said firmly as he stood up, ready to return to his usual table.
But he hesitated a second, looking down at me, until I looked up and raised an eyebrow.
“Something else you wanted to say?” I asked.
He curled his lip, shook his head, and stalked off. I watched him cross the room and sit down at his normal table near the back with Islay and the blonde girl, Ashley.
Islay was frowning, and she said something to Angus, who shook his head, looking as sour as a lemon. While Ashley talked, using wild hand gestures, Islay’s eyes slid down the canteen to me. I sat alone at the far end of a table, and I stared right back, not caring if Angus caught me. That girl had a nasty habit of staring me down, and I couldn’t tell if it was because she was attracted to me or because she hated me. Either way, it rankled me in a good way. Not a lot of men could hold my gaze, let alone hot little pixie-girls.
Her face was unreadable, so I pulled out a saucy smile, and I swore I could see her blush from across the room. It turned her cheeks to the colour of cotton candy, and I could imagine that her blush spread all the way down her throat to her chest. I’d love to find out. I bet every inch of skin on her would turn pink as roses if I was to undress her and get her under me.
Angus tapped her on the arm, and she flinched, tearing her eyes off mine, and I blew out a sigh, surprised by the heat swimming in my gut. I glanced down at my lap under the table and swore under my breath. God, I really needed to get out. I needed a release, whether it was sexual or not. The tutoring session could be my escape.
I was supposed to meet Islay at the town library right after class. Instead, I double-checked the dagger strapped to my leg under my jeans, pulled off my tie, slipped into a hoodie, and headed for the area of town I’d seen that Catchi demon.
Predictable as they were, smaller demons like Catchi preferred to stay in the same territory as much as possible. I knew it would be lurking around that alleyway again, though not until the sun went down. Daylight and demons didn’t mix. But the Catchi would probably have a nest somewhere nearby. If I could find it, I could jump the thing while it slept, take it out quick and clean, and make it home before Mum and Angus got suspicious.
Since it was still work hours for the people who had jobs, there weren’t many people hanging about—a few kids my age or younger getting home from college, a pregnant woman pushing a buggy with a squalling toddler in it, an old man smoking a cigarette outside an apartment building. None of them paid me any attention, and I slipped, unnoticed, into the alleyway where the Catchi had attacked the woman the other night.
The alley smelled like every other urban alley in the world—like piss and rotting rubbish—but it had an extra flavour to it, making it even more repulsive. Sulphur. The stink of demons. Yeah, the Catchi had a nest around there somewhere for sure.
I checked inside all the dumpsters, and then moved them aside to see if there were any manhole covers underneath that could have led to storm drains or the sewers. When that was a bust, I walked up and down the alley, searching for something else. There was nothing suitable for a Catchi demon to live in. Blowing out my cheeks, I tipped my head back in frustration, and my eyes fell on the metal fire escape attached to the wall of the apartment building next to the alley. It was a rusted-out hunk of junk that hung loose from the wall just above the second storey, but above that, there was a grimed-out third-floor window.
I chewed on my lip-ring, contemplating. Catchi demons looked normal enough to pass for human, if they wore hoods and the person they spoke too didn’t look too closely—like a busy apartment building super. Normally, demons preferred to live in filthy, small spaces—but then, a downtown flat could probably qualify.
Demon with an address? I thought. How helpful.
Pushing one of the dumpsters against the wall again, I climbed on top of it and jumped, grabbing hold of the bottom rung of the broken fire escape ladder. It creaked and swayed, but it held my weight. I swung myself up and scrambled up to the grimy window. Eyeing it, I pulled my red-handled dagger out of my ankle sheath and slid the flat edge between the window frame and the sill, working it until the point of the dagger snagged the latch. Using my dagger as a crowbar, I pried it until the window groaned open an inch, and then stuck my fingers in the gap and hauled it up. Flakes of paint came off on my fingers, and I was instantly hit with the smell from inside. Choking sulphur, along with the acidic smell of demon excrement and the foul rot of putrefying flesh.
I gagged, my throat working as bile rose, but I swallowed it back. You’d have thought I’d be used to the stink of demon nests by now, but there was no getting used to that stench—ever.
Keeping my dagger in my hand, I swung a leg over the sill and straightened inside the flat. I breathed through my mouth, determined not to puke. It was almost pitch-dark, with all the windows blacked out with deliberate grime, which I now realised was smeared demon crap on the glass and newspapers.
The light that flooded in from the open window behind me showed me more than enough to confirm that it was the Catchi’s nest. There were smears of crusted blood on the walls, black demon shit all over the floor, what little furniture there had been was broken into pieces, and in one corner, there was a pile of dirty rags which was probably where the demon slept. Poking out of those rags were scraps of flesh and bone—what remained of the demon’s last meal.
The only problem was, the monster wasn’t there. Scowling, I glanced at my watch. I’d been out of school for over an hour. Mum and Angus would expect me home from my “tutoring session” soon. I couldn’t hang around and wait for the demon to come back, and my skin crawled, knowing it’d have to wait and come back another time.
I swore, raking a hand through my hair. With a growl, I slammed my blade back into my ankle sheath, and threw myself out the window onto the fire escape. Carefully, I closed the window again. The only bonus was that the demon wouldn’t know I’d been there—its own stench would cover my scent.
Mentally cursing, I threw myself over the side of the fire escape, hitting the ground twenty feet down and rolling to my feet. I brushed myself off, well aware that I probably stunk after being in that flat. Hopefully, I could jump in the shower as soon as I got home, before Mum or Angus could corner me. There was no way I could pass the stink off as BO from P.E. class. They both knew what demon smelled like. If I got busted, I’d be grounded for another two weeks, and Mum would take my dagger off me.
Demon hunting was so much easier when Dad was alive. The thought made my chest ache, and I shoved it aside brutally. Bad enough the guilt over his death gnawed at my subconscious while I slept, I didn’t need it torturing me during the day too. Anyway, I was doing what Dad would have wanted me to. I was killing demons, just as he’d taught me. Soon, I’d find the one that murdered him, and I’d take my revenge.
Chapter Nine
** Islay **
I was lying on my bed, finishing up my Maths homework, when Angus called. I reached for my mobile lying on the nightstand without looking up from the paragraph I was reading. I knew it was Angus without checking because only two people ever called me, and Ash had already texted me earlier.
I hit the Call button on my phone and held it to my ear. “Hey, Angus. What’s up?”
He chuckled in my ear. “What, a guy has to have a reason to call his best friend now? I just wanted to chat.”
I rolled my eyes, dropping my pencil and sitting up. I groaned as I stretched out my back. Then said into the phone, “When that guy calls at eleven at night, generally, yes, there has to be a reason.”
“I knew you wouldn’t b
e sleeping. Is your dad home?”
“Yeah, he came home an hour ago. He’s feeding Peter right now.” Thank God. I’d had a crazy day, between Ruairidh bailing on tutoring and getting home late. Mrs. Wallis next door had almost had to miss her doctor’s appointment to look after Peter until I got in, and then dealing with my baby brother, who’d decided to have one of his whiny days. I’d gotten him to take a nap for just long enough to get some chores done. I was exhausted, and my homework was blurring in front of my eyes. I sighed and rubbed at them.
Over the phone, I heard the concern in Angus’s voice as he said, “You should really to go sleep, Iz. You sound worn out. You work way too hard.”
Flopping onto my back, I stared at the ceiling. Angus was right, of course. Between college, cleaning the house, and taking care of my brother, I barely had a moment of peace to myself. But I couldn’t just shrug off my responsibilities and go out with my friends like my classmates. My dad needed my help. He worked constantly to pay our bills, and to pay off the money he’d lost in the divorce with my stepmother.
“Iz? You still there?” Angus murmured.
I blinked. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“I should go. You need to rest.”
“No. Please. I’m not going to sleep yet anyway. I’ve got to finish this homework for tomorrow. What did you call to talk about?”
“It doesn’t matter. Forget it.”
Twisting onto my side, I frowned. “Tell me.”
“It was nothing, really—”
“Angus.”
He sighed. “Fine. I was going to ask how the tutoring session went with my brother.”
Crap. I had worried he’d ask that. I didn’t want to tell him Ruairidh had ditched on me. He’d be so pissed-off, and those two were already close to a full on fistfight.
