Hunting Darkness (City of Darkness Book 1)

by Maggie Alabaster

  The demon looked coy. "That would be telling." He tapped his nose with a fingertip. "So, are we going to dance, or talk like a pair of wallflowers?"

  I curled my fingers. "Come at me."

  The demon did, stepping one way and jerking back the other. His hair swung out behind him. His sword clanged against mine once he got close enough. Just a quick tap before he brought it around toward my head.

  I leaned back. The blade whistled past my cheek. I'd just straightened when the demon smacked me on the rear with his sword.

  "Hey!" This guy was getting far too cocky.

  I spun to face him, my cheeks reddening.

  "What?" The demon feigned innocence, then chuckled. "Oh, all right, I suppose I should take this more seriously. I mean, you might kill me."

  "Ditto," I said. My breath was coming heavily now.

  In a blur of movement, the demon rushed toward me. Blades clashed frantically now: parry, feint, parry, clang. The constant striking of steel on steel began to jar my arm.

  I retreated a step. Sucked in a short breath when my back pressed against something hard. A tree trunk.

  The demon closed in on me. He raised his sword to my throat.

  "Any last words?"

  9

  "Well?" the demon prompted. He arched an eyebrow.

  I held a hand out, palm up, and smiled. "Coffee?"

  He hesitated, then lowered the blade from my throat. "Sure." He put his sword away and held out his hand.

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. "Kannen Webster. It's been a long time. Where have you been?" I shook his hand and put my sword back in its sheath. My shoulder protested the movement.

  "Around." Kannen shrugged, eyes glowing. "Did you miss me?"

  "You haven't changed, I see. Still fishing for compliments." I suppressed a grin, but it broke free when Kannen jabbed my side with his finger.

  "I never fish," Kannen said. He lightly slung an arm over my shoulder and we headed away from the park. "I just like being told how awesome I am."

  "Same old modesty too," I said dryly. "You didn't answer my question. I thought something happened to you."

  "What, like foul play? Naw, not me. I've just been busy. Work and all." He glanced toward me. "I got a new job."

  "Hunting Demon Hunters?" I asked, only half joking.

  "No. I do that for fun." Kannen laughed. "I'll tell you all about it over a mug of caffeine."

  Insomniacs, as the name suggested, was open all night. And all day, which was fortunate because it served the best coffee in the city. If you didn't mind drinking with paranormals.

  The door stood open, the smell enticing before we stepped inside. Although occasionally visited by unsavoury demons, like the ones we hunted, those who usually frequented the place were harmless. Like Kannen, many looked human, apart from the odd quirk like glowing eyes or a short tail. Others lounged about in armchairs in their natural forms; a lizard-like man here, a furred woman with enormous teeth there.

  A hit from the sixties played through speakers built into the ceiling.

  No one looked twice at either of us. If they made no trouble for me, I would make none for them.

  "Most of them wish the bad ones would stop giving them a bad name," Kannen said softly.

  "Yeah, humans have that same sentiment." I flopped down onto a lounge and unstrapped my sheaths from my back. I lay my sword down on the floor, in reach if I needed it. Kannen did the same.

  "True." Kannen waved to the server who came to take our order; one short black and one ninth circle, double shot, black with sugar.

  And two slices of cake.

  We chatted about nothing in particular until the server brought plates and steaming mugs.

  "So, a new job. That's exciting." I blew lightly on my coffee to cool it and took a sip. I swirled it around in my mouth for a moment before I swallowed and sighed. The jolt of strong caffeine was just what I needed.

  "I suppose so. I'm working at the library."

  I almost spat out my coffee. "You, at a library?"

  Kannen frowned. "Hey, it's not that strange. Besides, it's a demon library. I'm cataloging all the folklore and whatnot. You'd be surprised how many demons are interested in their heritage. And it keeps the younger ones off the street and out of trouble."

  I thought about the kids on the overpass, waiting for the train, and nodded. "Maybe you could extend that to human youth." I told Kannen about the boys, and then everything else that was going on lately. "I've been feeling weird."

  Kannen nodded. "That explains why you were holding back earlier." He put down his mug and started on his cake—double chocolate.

  "I wasn't holding back," I retorted. "I just…didn't want to hurt you."

  "Right." Kannen drew the word out. "That's never stopped you before."

  I started to protest, but put cake into my mouth instead. Kannen was right. We gave each other scrapes and bruises, but it was all in fun. For training, endorsed by Malachai, who had introduced us to each other in the first place. Tonight had been comfortable, but I let Kannen get through defences I usually didn't let him past.

  "I have noticed people acting more strangely than usual," Kannen said slowly. "I mean, it can be hard to tell with some humans, but I work with one. He's been obsessing over things he doesn't normally obsess over. That's saying something, because he's fastidious to the point of driving the rest of us up the wall.

  "The other day, he followed a young demon around the library because he left a copy of The Wizard of Oz on a table. He insisted he'd kick the boy out if he made a mess or destroyed any of the books. The kid was eleven. He's exactly the age where he should be reading, expanding his mind and whatnot."

  I nodded. "Why was The Wizard of Oz in a demon library?"

  "Lots of books in there weren't written by, or about, demons," Kannen replied easily. "It so happens that one was."

  "Oh, well there you go, I learnt a thing."

  "You're welcome," Kannen chuckled. "Anyway, it is possible we have something to worry about."

  I arched an eyebrow at "we" but just said, "It is?"

  Kannen sat back and tucked his legs to him. "I've heard rumours. Just whispers mostly. They say there's a demon gathering others to him. They say he's trying to build up his power."

  "For what?" I asked. My stomach turned. I regretted eating cake now. "Some kind of attack on humans?"

  "Any attack on humans is an attack on us all," Kannen replied. His voice had a hard edge to it. "They might start with humans, but they won't stop there. Paranormals and power—we're all alike in that regard."

  I flushed. "I didn't meant to imply—"

  "I know." His tone was firm but unapologetic. "You don't mean to be prejudiced, neither do I. We are different in some ways. Demon isn't synonymous with evil, any more than human is. Just some of us are terrible and some humans are."

  "All right, so he might be planning an assault on those who don't follow him," I said carefully.

  Kannen nodded. "It's possible, but like I said, it's only gossip."

  "How reliable is the source?"

  "Reasonably. That's what worries me. They're usually the paranormal in the know." Kannen tossed his fork onto his plate with a clatter. "Also they crawl around sewers and listen to people."

  I wrinkled my nose. "Rather them than me."

  "Me too," Kannen replied. "Saffeny is an interesting character though. Always full of stories about things and places she's seen. I should introduce you two some time."

  "It's always good to have new contacts," I replied. "Unless they smell like sewer."

  "That is a possibility," Kannen replied, his lips quirked to the side. "but only when she's in a hurry." He flared his nostrils. "Anyway, Saffeny heard a doomsday plan mentioned a few times."

  "Doomsday plan? That sounds ominous."

  Kannen snorted. "It certainly sounds melodramatic. Some demons are like that, but usually nothing comes of it. We're not that organised or committed. Still, if someone decided
to pull a few together, it might not end well."

  "None of this sounds good," I said.

  "Exactly my thoughts." Kannen flicked his pointer finger toward me. "That's why I sought you out earlier."

  "Oh, you did?" I swallowed the last of my coffee and set my cup down. "I thought you just happened to be walking there too. I'm not getting predictable, am I?"

  "Not at all. I called Malachai. He said you'd left the repair yard. I knew you had to be around somewhere. I tried calling you, but…" He knitted his pale, shaggy brows. "No answer."

  "I leave the ringer off," I replied. I had heard it vibrate, but ignored it. I had no way to know it was Kannen calling without pulling out my phone.

  "That's smart." He nodded slowly. "Nothing says ‘stealthy’ like the Star Wars theme song screaming out in the middle of a dark alley."

  I stuck out my chin. "That is not my ringtone, I'll have you know." I shook my fork at him.

  "Darth Vader's theme?" Kannen teased.

  "That would be more like it," a demon called out from the table beside them.

  I turned toward him and blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

  The demon rose, small eyes and snake-like nose turned toward me. "This is a paranormal café, in case you hadn't noticed. You shouldn't be here. Your kind kills my kind."

  "Calvin, your kind eats pizza with pineapple on it," Kannen said dryly.

  "Hey, I like pineapple on my pizza," I protested.

  "Ugh," Kannen groaned. "Really? There should be a law." He stuck out his tongue in disgust.

  I shook my head and turned back to Calvin. "We only kill demons who kill people. And other demons. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't Damien and Freya save a group of demons like you, only a month ago?"

  Calvin drew his chin back toward his chest.. "Maybe, but this is still a paranormal café. It's not right—"

  "Stop being a bigot or I'll stab you myself," Kannen said, looking as though he might reach for a sword. "We're all Earthlings here. Sydneysiders, no less."

  "Right," I agreed. "I don't want any trouble, I just wanted some coffee."

  "Which you've finished," Calvin said, looking down his nose at my empty cup. "Perhaps you should run along." He flicked his fingers at me.

  Any other time, I might have told him to fuck off and ordered another cup, which I would take my time over. Tonight, I was too sore and weary to bother.

  "I'm going." I picked up my sword and rose. With no small effort, I suppressed a grimace at the aches in my body. "But only because I have more important things to deal with. Don't worry," I added, seeing the look of triumph on his face, "I will be back. Maybe tomorrow night. And the night after." I smirked at him.

  He hissed at me, the tips of a forked tongue protruded from his mouth.

  "Put that away," Kannen growled, "or I'll cut it off."

  Calvin sniffed, but his tongue disappeared. He retreated to his seat and watched us all the way to the door, eyes in slits.

  "Ignore him. He's just a narrow-minded—"

  I shook my head. "Humans would do worse to him. I don't blame him for being anxious." If the tables were turned, he'd be unlikely to survive the encounter. More than once, I saw demons dragged onto the street and punched and kicked. I stepped in each time, but only my sword and fists saved me from any further trouble.

  I always made some excuse about the demon wearing a costume, or some kind of Hollywood makeup, but the gods knew if the attackers ever bought it. More often than not, the perpetrators were drunk. With any luck, they didn't remember the encounter the next day. Or if they did, they wouldn't remember the details.

  The demons did though. I checked up on those I could find later. They always bore scars, physical or mental. Some packed up and left the city. Where they went, I had no idea.

  "Still, we should find out what's behind all of this before things get worse for everyone."

  10

  "And so," Malachai concluded, "I should have some sympathy for you, in spite of what I've told you about working with someone?"

  "What someone?" I asked. I threw my sword onto the couch with enough force to make it bounce. I winced, but turned back to him. "Seamus was supposed to be here, resting. On your orders, remember?"

  "I haven't forgotten," he said. He stopped pacing and rubbed his face. "Perhaps I should have insisted you stay here and play babysitter."

  "You were here," I pointed out. "He got past you."

  Malachai sighed heavily. "Yes, he did, and for that he will be—" He was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing.

  "Speak of the devil," I muttered.

  "Young Seamus," Malachai said in a tone that would have had me ducking for cover if it was aimed at me. "How nice of you to join us."

  Seamus should have looked regretful. If he had a bit of sense, he would have. Instead, he looked tired, irritable. He glared at Malachai, then at me as though somehow I were to blame for him having snuck out.

  "I'm fine, thanks for asking. And Juliet is fine, thanks to me." He gave me a sarcastic bow.

  I grimaced in return and flopped down on the couch. I rubbed my shoulder and longed for a shower and bed.

  "You were under orders," Malachai spoke low, eyes narrowed with barely contained fury, "to remain here."

  "And if I had, Juliet would be dead right now," Seamus retorted. "You're welcome."

  "For that, I thank you," Malachai conceded. "But that fact is both beside the point, and refutable. Juliet is more than capable—"

  "No," I said softly. "No, he's right. Although Kannen might have found me… "

  "There you go." Malachai waved a hand at her. "Kannen wouldn't have hesitated to assist. You—" he jabbed a finger in Seamus' direction, "—should have been here, as instructed. You put yourself in danger, potentially put Juliet at further risk, and the bill from Linda—" His eyes widened. "Sweet gods, to replace a windscreen. The car isn't worth that much."

  Seamus' face turned red. "I should have parked the car and approached on foot. I just didn't think."

  Malachai threw his arms up in the air. "At last, we agree on something. A demon, especially a large one, or one with an exoskeleton, coming toward you, even through glass could have been a recipe for a very nasty accident. Or worse. And what if you crashed into an innocent pedestrian because you lost control or died? Do you understand how difficult that would be to explain?"

  "Thanks," Seamus muttered sarcastically. "You're more worried about explaining to the police than me being dead. I appreciate it."

  "I don't want to see either happen," Malachai said. He exhaled loudly and his shoulders slumped. "At the moment I'm having a hard time understanding why I should keep you on here."

  I shot up in my seat. "What the hells? You can't mean that. I know we're all tired and on edge, but Seamus is sorry. Right Seamus?" I turned pleading eyes toward him. He might annoy me at times, but he was one of us.

  "Yeah." Seamus gave me a sulky look in return.

  "Sorry you went, or sorry I knew about it?" Malachai asked.

  "Sorry you're pissed off about it," Seamus replied. "I did my job. It sucks that the car cost so much. Take it out of my wages if you have to."

  "I was planning on it." Malachai rubbed his eyes, leaving them more red than they already were. "At least part of it."

  "There now, do you both have all that off your chests?" I asked. "Because it's been a long night. For all of us. We should get some sleep and talk about it later."

  "Can I sleep?" Malachai directed the question at Seamus. "Do I dare try, or do I need to lie awake and worry that you might sneak out and go patrolling alone?"

  Seamus frowned. "I would never do that. I'm not stupid."

  Anger flared inside me, surprising me with the sudden fury. "I beg your pardon? Are you saying I am?"

  Seamus' face turned red. "No, I… I would never. I just meant…"

  I rose, planted my fists on my hips and glared at him. A voice in the back of my mind told me to leave it alone. I knew he hadn
't meant anything by it. The anger boiled the rational thought away.

  "What did you mean?" I growled.

  "Juliet. No one thinks you're stupid." Now Malachai was the voice of reason. "You're courageous."

  I rounded on him. "And yet, you started this whole conversation by reminding me that I shouldn't go out alone. Which is it? You know what I think? I think you need to stop flip-flopping and make up your bloody mind. Ground Seamus, or don't. Ground me, or don't. But for the gods’ sake, stop dithering like an old man."

  Seamus snorted. "He is an old man."

  For a moment, silence fell. Then laughter blurted out from between my clenched teeth. My anger fell away like a loose towel.

  "He's not that old," I said, trying to hold back a smile, but failing.

  "Older than dirt," Malachai muttered. "And twice as wise." He pointed a finger at us both. "And don't you forget it."

  "We can't, you're always reminding us." I flopped back down and leaned my head against the back of the couch. "What just happened?"

  "Our first fight?" Malachai asked wryly.

  "Firstly, that's not our first," I replied. "And secondly, there was nothing normal about that. I felt as though my anger was burning me up inside, like a cauldron overflowing. Without the added stink of boiled herbs and frog hearts."

  "Frog intestines," Malachai corrected. "Frog hearts are dried and… " He gestured with one hand. "It doesn't matter. The point is, I felt that way too." Both sets of eyes turned to Seamus.

  "Same here," he muttered. "You're not really taking it out of my pay, are you?"

  "I'll think about it." Malachai dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. "So it seems this thing comes in waves. That might be significant."

  "It also seems to be contagious," I said. Both men jerked their heads around to look at me. "Think about it. It started with Seamus. Then me. Now Malachai is affected."

  "Perhaps it takes longer to impact people based on other factors," Malachai said thoughtfully.

  "The older the person, the longer it takes?" I suggested, only half joking.

  "Perhaps the higher IQ, the longer it takes." Malachai gave me a sly smile.