Demon Slayer

by Linsey Hall

  “Damn.” My shoulders sagged.

  “The medallion won’t do it.” Mari frowned.

  It wasn’t important enough to the demon, nor imbued with enough of his magic, to help us make a tracking charm.

  “We have to go ask the FireSouls.” They were the only ones who could possibly help me now. Otherwise, I’d have to head all the way back to that pool and see if I could find the second half of the medallion.

  “If anyone can do it, they can,” Mari said.

  The FireSouls could find almost anything. They each shared a soul with a dragon, and if there was one thing that dragons liked, it was treasure. As a result, the FireSouls could find almost anything of value, since anything could become treasure if you wanted it badly enough.

  And damn, did I want to find this demon.

  If only my dragon blood could give me the FireSoul’s ability to find things.

  Mari pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll just text them. See if any are around.”

  The three FireSouls—Nix, Cass, and Del—all lived on Factory Row on the other side of town. I grabbed the bag of Cheetos and dug in, chowing down as we waited.

  My shoulders relaxed as the magic of neon orange cheese dust went to work. I wasn’t proud of my addiction, but there was no way I was giving it up. Cheetos also went surprisingly well with wine and martinis, which was a fun fact I thanked fates for.

  A moment later, Mari’s phoned dinged. She read it, then looked up. “Out of town, but they’ll be back early tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “It’s fine.”

  The demon had to deal with his amputated arm, after all, so it gave me a bit of time to sleep, which I desperately needed. It was dangerous to hunt deadly creatures while being so exhausted that you could barely walk, much less fight.

  “First thing tomorrow, we’ll find the FireSouls,” Mari said.

  “And that damned demon.”

  And probably Declan.

  10

  In the morning, Mari and I dressed in our fight wear. With what was on the horizon, we’d need it. However, right before we left the house, we both applied our usual going-out glamours.

  In truth, she really was wearing the plunging black dress and bouffant about fifty percent of the time. Half our business was staying in and doing blood sorcery, or gathering useful info to sell. Frankly, with the way my body was feeling after all the fighting—like I’d been run over by a dump truck—I wouldn’t hate a day at home wearing silk and doing a bit of sorcery.

  Like a snow day from demon killing.

  It was not in the cards, however.

  As I stepped out of the foyer, I stopped in front of the mirror, smoothed my pale hair back, and schooled my features into an icy expression. It worked well with the sleek white outfit I wore. Or, at least, the sleek outfit that it looked like I wore. My ghost suit would keep me warm—and if necessary, invisible.

  “Come on,” Mari said from the stoop. “You look suitably icy. Let’s go.”

  I grinned at her. “As if you didn’t already do this.”

  “Fine, I did.”

  I gave myself one last look. Aerdeca stared back at me, cold and powerful. No one from my old life would ever make the connection.

  I joined her on the step. Sometimes, our charade became tiring. Not that I minded the look or the persona or the clothes—they were me. It was remembering to make sure I looked right that was annoying.

  But it brought with it the freedom of knowing our family would never find us, so it was worth it. Our new look combined with our concealment charm hid us perfectly.

  Mari led the way, cutting down the alley to the right of the house. I couldn’t help but wonder what Declan was doing right now. Was he farther along on the hunt than I was?

  Better not be.

  I shoved the thought away and followed Mari to her car, a classic Mustang with a custom paint job—black sparkles, of course. Mari slid behind the wheel and I joined her in the car. She turned the car on. The engine roared, far louder than a normal car, and I smiled at her.

  “What?” She shrugged. “I like it.”

  “It suits you.”

  She took off for Factory Row, where the FireSouls lived.

  I pulled the half medallion out of my pocket and studied it, trying to figure out why the image on the front looked familiar. I couldn’t place it though.

  As the sun rose higher in the sky, Mari drove down the old street in the Historic District, past buildings that looked a lot like they were from Darklane, except for the fact that they weren’t covered in black grime. Next, we went through the business district, between the towering glass buildings that speared toward the sky, then toward Factory Row. The neighborhood where the FireSouls lived was really quite cool. It was mostly a collection of old, nineteenth century factory buildings that had been converted into apartments and shops about a decade ago.

  “I cannot wait for a coffee,” Mari said.

  I grinned. We’d be meeting the FireSouls at Potions & Pastilles, a coffee shop and bar run by our friends Connor and Claire.

  Mari pulled the car over and parked across the street from the old four-story factory building. Huge glass windows glittered, and the old brick looked charming rather than rundown.

  I climbed out, my gaze on the warm interior of Potions & Pastilles. The place was filled with wood furniture and colorful paintings. Mason jar lamps hung from the ceiling, shedding a golden light on the nearly empty space. It was all very hipster Oregon, and though it wasn’t my usual style, I’d grown to love it.

  The smell of pastries and coffee welcomed me as I stepped in.

  Connor looked up, his dark hair flopping against his forehead as he grinned.

  “Aerdeca. Mordaca. Long time, no see.” His English accent was still pretty thick despite the fact that he’d lived in the States for years. His band T-shirt—today, it was Jim Croce—was covered in smatterings of white flour. Connor was a hearth witch with some badass potion-making powers.

  “Hey, Connor.” I grinned at him. “Cass come by, yet?”

  “Not yet. What can I get you?”

  “Espresso, please, two shots.” I approached the counter, eying the pastries within.

  Mari followed behind me. “A vanilla latte for me, please.”

  “Coming right up.” He got to work at the gleaming silver espresso machine.

  The door behind the counter swung open, and Claire strode out. Connor’s sister was as tall as he was, with sleek brown hair and a big grin. While she had a bit of hearth witch ability—nothing like Connor—she was also a fire mage and a mercenary for the Order of the Magica.

  Against all odds, she’d become one of my favorite people over the years. Mari and I weren’t used to having friends—not after years of charades and hiding—but these two were weaseling their way in.

  “Aerdeca, Mordaca! Good to see you.” Claire grinned.

  They didn’t know our real names, however.

  Claire went right to the pastry case and grabbed three huge cinnamon buns.

  “You know the way to my heart, that’s for sure,” I said.

  She looked at me, frowning. “Strange to see you here this early. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing much. Just meeting Cass.”

  Claire’s brows rose, and she clearly knew I was full of shit. Connor put our coffee cups on the counter and grinned. “On the house.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Connor, we’re sitting. Call me if you need help.” She nodded her head toward a table in the far corner. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  I saluted and followed her to the table, Mari at my side.

  Claire set the three cinnamon buns down and sat. We joined her, and she leaned on her elbows and gave us a hard stare. “Something is wrong.”

  “We’re fine.” Mari bit into the cinnamon bun, a tried-and-true trick to deflect the need to talk by filling your mouth.

  “You’re not fine,” Claire whispered, glaring.

  Claire was the only
one who knew that we weren’t just Blood Sorceresses. She didn’t know we were Dragon Bloods, but she did know we lived a bit of a lie and hunted demons for more than just their blood. We hadn’t intended to tell her as much as we had, but her mercenary work brought her to Grimrealm occasionally and she was a good demon-hunting ally.

  We could also trust Connor and our friends the FireSouls—Cass, Del, and Nix.

  Logically, I knew that. They were good people with secrets of their own. They’d understand and have our backs.

  But Mari and I didn’t care. We’d kept our secrets so long that we wanted to keep them even longer. Maybe it prevented us from developing real and lasting friendships. Maybe we were fucked up and needed therapy.

  Whatever. Better safe than sorry.

  “Well, what’s going on?” Claire demanded.

  “Might as well tell her,” Mari said.

  I nodded. Quickly, I filled her in about the demon with the possible connection to Grimrealm. My stomach grumbled, so I sipped my espresso gratefully, then chomped into the cinnamon bun. Sugar and butter exploded on my tongue.

  “Damn, Connor is good at this,” I muttered.

  “Don’t change the subject.” Claire leaned forward. “So, this demon may go back to Grimrealm. Or there’s info there. Is that it?”

  “That’s what we think.” I took another bite of the cinnamon bun.

  “I can go for you if you need,” she said.

  “No, you can’t.” Mari shook her head hard. “Last time you ran a job there, you pissed off a mob boss. If you get caught, you’re dead.”

  “If you get caught there, you’re dead,” she said. “Or enslaved, at least.”

  “That’s our problem,” I said. “Just like this is.” I reached for her hand and squeezed. “But thank you. You’re a good friend.”

  She shrugged.

  The bell over the door rang, and I turned to see Cass hurry in, her red hair still wet from the shower. She wore her usual uniform of a brown leather jacket and jeans.

  She shot a grin at us. “Sorry I’m late!”

  I turned to her and crossed my legs, smiling. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Of course.” She sat, giving Connor a nod, no doubt to confirm her usual order. Cass lived only a few doors down, so she was in here all the time. She looked me up and down. “I don’t know how you look so put together all the time.”

  “Just natural, I guess.” I gave her a small smile.

  Connor brought Cass a steaming cup and a scone, then retreated back toward the counter. The morning rush would come soon, and he’d probably want to be ready.

  “So, what are you looking for?” Cass asked.

  “How do you know we’re looking for anything?” Mari asked.

  “Come on, Mordaca.” She tilted her head down and gave my sister a knowing look. “You guys never hang out just to hang out, even though we invite you all the time. Hence, this is about business.”

  I sighed, feeling a bit guilty. Part of me did want to hang out more. A bigger part of me didn’t know how, and it was just easier to hang with Mari.

  “Okay, you’re right,” I said. “It is business. No matter what we’ve tried, we can’t make a tracking charm out of this.” I dug into my pocket and handed her the half medallion.

  She took it and frowned at it, her brow creasing. “What is this?”

  “Don’t know. A demon was wearing it, and I want to find him.”

  “For his blood,” Cass said.

  It wasn’t a question. She’d bought our story about hunting demons for their blood for our shop. Why wouldn’t she? She was our friend and she trusted us.

  A bit of guilt stabbed me, but it was easy to shove away.

  “Exactly,” Mari said.

  “Well, I can try.” Cass closed her eyes, her magic swelling on the air. It smelled like a fresh forest breeze and felt like a strong wind. Her dragon sense—that ability to find things of value—often relied upon having a bit of information or an object to ignite it. Something that could give her a little clue to go on—like a magical bloodhound.

  Cass kept her eyes closed for longer than I was used to, and I shot Mari a look. She frowned. So did Claire.

  Damn, this couldn’t be good.

  Cass’s green eyes popped open. “I’m sorry. I need the whole thing. I’m only getting half images, and it’s not enough to decipher.”

  Damn it. I should have stuck around and looked for the other half.

  Except for the bats. They’d have torn me apart.

  “Then I need to go get the other half.” I cursed. That would take time. I hadn’t seen where that thing had flown when my dagger had blasted it apart.

  This would definitely put Declan in the lead.

  The bell over the door jangled again, and the back of my neck prickled. A sense of awareness rushed over me. My heart began to pound. I turned.

  As if he’d heard me thinking of him, Declan stood in the doorway. Tall and broad, with his dark hair sweeping back from his face and his inscrutable gaze pinned to me, he looked like the fallen angel he was. Devastatingly gorgeous and strong enough to break a bus in half.

  All it did was annoy me.

  I scowled at him. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

  Next to me, Claire made an intrigued noise.

  I stood and stalked toward Declan, my frown deepening. “How’d you find me?”

  “I’m good at finding things.” He grinned. “Bounty hunter, remember?”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Fine. I followed you. Then I waited a bit to see what you’d do here.”

  “You were spying on me.” I grabbed his arm. “Come on.”

  We went outside, and I dropped his arm gratefully. Yeah, gratefully. That’s it.

  “You clean up nice,” he said. “But then, you looked nice covered in seaweed and squid slime, too.”

  I turned to him and scowled. “What are you really doing here?”

  I could feel my friends watching us through the window. They were shameless.

  Declan reached into his pocket and pulled out the other half of the medallion. “Need this?”

  I gasped. “Damn it.”

  “Yeah, I thought you might.”

  I really should have stayed and looked for it.

  “I saw you snag it off the ground,” Declan said. “Seemed like a good idea. Except, the Seeker I gave it to last night said that he needed the other half to use it to find the demon.”

  “Well, you can’t have it.”

  “No. We’ll have to work together.”

  A stupid part of me wanted to say no immediately. And while I frequently had my not-so-bright moments, I wasn’t a complete moron. Unless I tried to kill Declan and take his charm, we’d be working together. And while murdering him might have a certain appeal—and I didn’t mind doing questionable things sometimes—that was way over the line.

  “Fine.” I scowled at him.

  “One would think you’re not just after the demon’s blood,” he said. “You seem very committed to taking him yourself.”

  “Of course I am. I work alone.”

  “Not anymore.” He stuck out his hand. “You get the blood. I get the demon. Alive. Deal?”

  I stuck out my hand and shook his, knowing that it was a pointless shake. I’d kill that demon first chance I got, deal or no deal. “I’ve got a Seeker inside. Let’s do this.”

  He nodded, and we strode back into the coffee shop.

  I smiled at my friends, trying to look normal. “We’re in luck. Declan here has the other half of the medallion.” I gestured to Cass. “And Cass here is our Seeker.”

  Yeah, she wasn’t a Seeker. But there was no way I’d go ratting her out as a FireSoul. She actually had a special approval from the Order of the Magica—it was basically just permission to live, which was effed up if you asked me—but most people were terrified of FireSouls. Hated them.

  I doubted Declan would be scared—he didn’t seem scared of anything. But i
t wasn’t my place to tell her secret.

  Declan handed the medallion to Cass and took a seat. As Cass closed her eyes and went to work, Mari leaned toward Declan.

  “So, you’re the one who’s been getting in my sister’s way.”

  The corner of Declan’s mouth inched up in a sexy grin. “Guilty as charged.”

  “Hmm.” Mari pursed her lips and sat back, clearly unimpressed.

  “I’m Claire.” She leaned forward and stuck out her hand.

  Declan shook.

  Claire gripped it tight and frowned, clearly trying to figure out what kind of supernatural he was. “Fallen angel?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ve got it.” Cass opened her eyes. “Or at least, I’ve got a bit of a clue.”

  I turned toward her. “And?”

  “You need to go to Grimrealm.”

  Aaaaand shit.

  Cass set the medallion on the table and shoved to her feet. “Come on, new guy. Let’s go get a coffee.”

  She grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. He shot a confused look around the table, then shrugged and followed Cass to the bar. Clearly, he knew something was up, but he was willing to play along. And while this scenario wasn’t ideal, Cass was right—we needed a second to talk without Declan around.

  “Cass isn’t the worst,” Mari murmured.

  High praise from her, especially when she was in her Mordaca getup.

  “Yeah.” She knew we were from Grimrealm and didn’t like to talk about it, but that was all. We’d never shared any more with her, and had never intended to. But Cass had her own dark, shitty past, and she was intuitive. Clearly, Declan was the new guy. No one wanted to talk about the shit that scared them around the new guy.

  Claire leaned forward. “I can do this, guys. Recon, and I’ll report back.”

  “You can’t,” I said. “Too dangerous.”

  “Yeah.” Mari nodded. “After that last job went south, you said you’d never go back.”

  “Well, I didn’t have a good reason then. And you’ve made it your life’s work not to go back.”

  I shuddered. She was right about that. I’d rather chew off my left leg than go back. Except, chewing off my left leg wouldn’t help me catch and kill that demon.