12
Shocked silence filled the restaurant for a second. Two seconds. Then it, too, was shattered as a man leapt from his chair and launched himself toward whoever threw the glass. People jumped out of their chairs. I thought they might run, but instead they surged toward the other side of the room, pushing and shoving.
One woman still held a fork in her hand.
I leapt up from my chair, but had to duck to avoid another glass as it was thrown toward my head. Who threw it, I didn't know, but the projectile missed me by a hair.
I dropped and slid under the table.
Kannen joined me a moment later, his expression grim. "Was it something we said?"
I snorted. "This can't be random." I winced at the sound of smashing wood.
"It can," Kannen replied, "but that seems unlikely." He glanced back behind him. "There were two demons sitting over near the door. They're gone now."
"You think they had something to do with this?"
"No idea, but they didn't seem affected by it." He squinted at me. "What about you?"
I cocked my head to one side. "I feel fine at the moment. You?"
"I'm still good. It's not impacting demons."
"Yet."
Kannen frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean if humans keep acting like dickheads, a demon might get hurt. Accidentally or otherwise."
"Good point."
Something smashed against the table above us, then the restaurant went silent. The wail of sirens echoed in the street outside.
"I think now would be a great time to leave," Kannen declared. "Before we get stuck here giving a statement."
"Agreed." I hated to run while people might need help, but the police would have to deal with it. I stuck my head out from under the table and figured out the easiest path to the door. "We'll have to be quick."
I rose cautiously. The restaurant was a mess of overturned chairs and scattered food. One table was in pieces. Several patrons sported gashes and torn clothing, but nothing that might be fatal.
The woman with the fork seemed to have lost the utensil in the melee and was now standing, looking dazed. That seemed to be the default expression on most of the faces around me.
I pulled out a few notes and tucked them under my plate. "Can't leave without paying." It was more than the meal was worth, but I couldn't see a server. They must have taken refuge in the kitchen.
Kannen nodded and did the same before he hurried toward the exit.
I stepped carefully over broken glass and what looked like a chair leg. I met the eyes of a few people we passed and saw shock and disbelief. This was not normal behaviour for most of them, that was obvious. Most would probably put it down to alcohol, or something in the food.
I mentally cursed the shade and whoever else was behind this, but didn't slow down until we were back out on the street. We walked out of sight and around a corner just as a pair of police cars pulled up out the front. For once, cars being slowed by Sydney traffic was a bonus. If they'd arrived any sooner, we might have become involved.
Angry, irrational people with tasers and guns were people I did not want to be around.
"Are you all right?" Kannen reached for my hand. "You look a little pale."
"This is getting out of hand," I said softly. "But I've realised something."
"What's that?" Kannen drew me further from the restaurant at the sound of car doors opening and slamming shut.
"This—whatever it is, it comes and goes. It feels as though I've had a bucket of cold fury tipped on me, then it's gone, like waves of irrationality. I wonder if I wasn't affected just now because I'd had a—a dose if you want to call it that, this morning."
"It's possible," Kannen agreed. "Unless this is targeted specifically at you and those around you."
I grimaced. That thought had occurred to me, but I pushed it aside. To think I was, in some way, the cause of what had happened tonight, made my head and heart hurt.
"I should keep an eye out for any shades following me, just in case," I said, trying to keep my voice light.
"Shades, or any shifty-looking demons." Kannen nodded. "Apart from me, that is. I'm harmless. Mostly." He grinned.
I laughed. "You're anything but harmless, but only to the wrong demons."
"Flatterer," Kannen said. "I could say the same about you."
"I hope you would." I said. I reluctantly let Kannen's hand go and stepped away.
"Do you feel like a walk along the harbour? I have another hour or two before I officially start work."
I was never really off duty. My sword was back at the headquarters, but I had a knife in my boot and one at my hip. Another reason to avoid the police if possible. They might not take me at my word that I wasn't a street thug of some kind.
"Sure, I could use the air." Kannen fell into step beside me.
They went back around the corner, past Dante's. The customers were now gathered near the door, huddled together in small groups. The police seemed to be questioning a server, while an ambulance crew treated the injured. If anyone remembered us, no one gave any indication.
Still, I held my breath until we were well past.
"At least no one died," Kannen muttered.
"Yet," I replied. The way things were going, it was only a matter of time before that happened.
We followed the streets down, sticking to places frequented by people. I didn't need to look at Kannen to know he also watched everyone carefully. The people we passed seemed to be on edge; more so than usual. When we stopped at traffic lights to wait to cross, the faces around us held more than the usual impatience.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a man approach the group of pedestrians. He reached the curb and, in spite of not having a phone or headphones, didn't even slow down. Instead he stepped out onto the road, staring straight ahead. A taxi driver honked his horn and drew to a stop just short of hitting the man.
As though that was a cue, a handful of pedestrians followed the man onto the road and across to the other side. Only Kannen and I, along with a couple of young women remained at the lights, shaking our heads.
"What the fuck?" Kannen said. "What is it with people?"
"Weird stuff like that has been happening a lot lately," one of the young women commented.
The other nodded. "I saw a guy pour petrol on his car and try to set it alight. His wife came out of the house. She was pissed. Yelled at him for ages. He kept saying he didn't know what he was doing. I think he was lucky she didn't set him on fire."
"Drugs," the first woman said, nodding sagely. "People need to stop doing that shit."
"Yep. Yes they do."
The light turned green and the women walked ahead of Kannen and me, talking amongst themselves.
"Demons?" I guessed.
"I don't think so," Kannen replied, "they smell like witches."
"Witches have a smell?"
"Of course. All things have a smell." Kannen glanced over at me. "I guess my nose is more sensitive than yours. Witches smell a bit like spices, as if they've spent too long beside a cauldron. Although, as you know, they don't use them. Their scent is really just the smell of magic."
"I didn't know that had a smell either." Although, my knowledge of magic was limited. "Do shifters have one?"
Kannen nodded, but didn't reply until we passed another group of people gathered around outside a pizza restaurant.
"Shifters often smell like what they shift into. I once knew a guy who used to smell like wet dog all the time, even when he was dry. Apparently humans couldn't tell, but I could." He grimaced.
"That must have been—"
I jumped at the sound of breaking glass. That was followed immediately by a shop alarm going off. It increased in volume and intensity as the seconds passed. A flashing light accompanied it, red and white, faster and faster until it became a blur.
Several people stood outside a clothing shop and laughed and cheered. One of them picked up what looked like a brick and threw
it into the already smashed window. It shattered a large portion of what was left of it.
"Yeah, take that!" a woman laughed.
"Good idea." Another woman scrambled through the window, apparently oblivious to the shards still attached to the frame, and those on the floor.
A man climbed in after her, then another. They started pulling clothes off racks and tossing them out onto the street.
"Hey, stop that!" I yelled over the alarm.
"I fucking hate looters," Kannen said. He raised his hands into fists. "Get out of there. The police and security are coming."
Rather than be deterred, more people climbed into the shop and rummaged through what was quickly becoming a mess.
I wanted to stick my hands over my ears and block out the noise. Instead, I grabbed a would-be looter by the back of his shirt and pulled him back from the shop.
"Get the hell out of here," I said. I gave him a shove away.
"Who the fuck are you?" the man growled. "The fun police?"
"I'm the one who just saved you from the real police." I nodded down the street. A car approached, lights flashing.
"Shit." The man looked as though he might stick around to argue, but I gave him another shove. In a display of rational behaviour, rare for the evening, he took off down the street and out of sight.
The car pulled up.
Fuck. So much for avoiding the cops.
13
I was wrong, it wasn't the police. Private security was only slightly better. Worse if they had the attitude that a rent-a-cop had the power of the real thing.
The man who stepped out of the car was tall and lanky, with close-cropped brown hair and a swagger. A woman in the same uniform climbed out the other side. She was heavyset with a neat blonde bob and small eyes.
Both wore identical expressions of disinterest.
"All right, out you all get," the man said. A badge over his breast read, "Gibson." He gestured at the looters to climb back down to the sidewalk before pulling a phone out of his pocket. The punch of a few buttons and the alarm fell silent.
The ringing in my ears would probably take longer to go away.
The woman—her badge read, "Jones"—leaned against the side of the car, her arms crossed. The flashing light on top of the vehicle turned her skin yellow. She looked bored. That was better than gung-ho; the taser at her hip was evident from here.
"Fuck off," one of the looters said. He threw a shoe at Gibson, but fell short by a couple of metres.
If it was aimed at me, I might have picked up the shoe and thrown it back, twice as hard and with more accuracy. From the expression on Kannen's face, he might have hit the looter around the head with it.
Gibson looked bemused.
"This is a different irrational response," I muttered from the corner of my mouth.
"Yeah. This is fucked up," Kannen replied. He raised his voice and asked, "Have the police been called?"
Jones turned her head slowly. "There's no need for that, we have this under control." Her tone was flat. Her eyes looked glassy in the flashing light.
Another shoe came flying out the broken window. It hit the car beside Jones with a thud and fell to the road.
The woman barely registered it.
Kannen sniffed the air. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you smoked some wacky weed."
I waited for either of the security guards to become angered, but both simply smiled and returned their attention to the shop.
"Come on, out you get." Gibson sounded like an indulgent parent trying to coax a difficult child into doing something they didn't want to. If he offered them ice cream next, I wouldn't be surprised.
I could use some of it myself, preferably chocolate.
A barrage of shoes came flying out the window. A particularly wicked looking, hot pink stiletto slammed into the windscreen and became lodged there.
"Hey, that could have been someone's head!" Kannen crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the looter and security guard alike.
"I don't think they care." I watched the faces of the two guards. "Are you sure they aren't demons?" I added in a whisper.
"No demon ever acted this stupid," Kannen replied hotly.
I might disagree, but I said nothing.
A boot thudded onto the road near my feet.
"Oh my." A man picked up the footwear and looked at it with despair. "My boot."
"You're the owner?" I asked.
"Hmmm?" He scratched his bearded face. "Oh. Yes, yes I am. The alarm went off. It sent a message to my phone." He stood around the same height as me, but his body was wider; broad and strong.
"What are they doing?" He waved the boot toward the guards.
"Not much," Kannen replied. "Hey, Gary, long time no see."
He peered at him. "Oh, Kannen. Same, I'm sure. Although the circumstances are unfortunate."
"You could say that," Kannen agreed. "What are you going to do?"
Gary sighed and handed me the boot. "I imagine this won't take long." He stepped away, toward an alley that led to the side of the building. A few minutes later, a growl ripped through the air.
The ensuing silence was broken by a scream and a shout.
"What the fuck?"
"It's a wolf!"
Looters tumbled out of the window and rolled onto the street. One leapt to her feet and took off down the road at a run.
Another tugged the stiletto from the car windscreen and started back toward the window.
"I'm going to kill the fucker," he declared. "And skin it. It'll make a good rug." He laughed as though he'd made a hilarious joke.
"What are you going to kill?" Gary peered out the window. He was back in human form, albeit with slightly dishevelled clothes. He tugged his shirt into place and smoothed down the front, but still looked rumpled. Two of his shirt buttons were in the wrong holes, as though he'd dressed in a hurry.
The man hesitated. "The big dog. It's in there."
Gary glanced around, looking guileless. "I think you're mistaken. There's no dog here. Just me."
The looter looked confused, but lowered the shoe and backed off. "This whole night is screwed up," he said to himself. "What am I even doing here?"
"Perhaps you could return my property?" Gary asked, pointing at the stiletto.
The man looked at it as though he'd forgotten he had it. "What the—" He tossed it back inside the shop and muttered to himself as he staggered away.
"I won't press charges, as long as you all leave now." Gary gave the guards a nod to include them.
"Yeah." The remaining looters rose, looked at each other in confusion, then melted away into the night.
"It looks as though we got everything under control here," Gibson declared, looking pleased with himself.
Kannen snorted.
No one spoke while the pair got back into the car, turned off the flashing lights, and drove away slowly.
"Pockets of violence seemed to be getting more and more widespread," Gary remarked. "I've been broken into before, but this was downright peculiar."
"Yeah," I agreed. "And I'm getting more and more frustrated. I'm a Demon Hunter. What am I supposed to do with humans under the influence?"
"Watch, learn, look for a provocateur," Kannen replied. "I didn't see anyone behaving in a more ordinary way during all of that. Did you?"
I thought. "Just that one looter I deterred. He seemed the most normal. And your friend Gary there. No offence," I added quickly.
Gary sniffed. "I'm hardly likely to have caused this mess to my own business. This is going to take days to clean up." He sighed gustily.
"We'll help," Kannen offered.
"We will?" I asked. "I mean, of course we will. In case someone comes back."
"Well thank you. Mother is going to be so upset. The rest of the pack will, too, they all have a vested interest in the place."
"Pack?" I looked around in case a handful of shifters in their wolf form might sneak up behind me, ready to pounce.
I wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but Gary chuckled.
"He's right, don't worry," he said. "They don't want any trouble, especially with Demon Hunters. Troublesome demons are just as much a problem to the pack as they are to you. They tend to give the rest of us a bad name. Troublesome shifters, too, although those are less of a problem."
"Shifters tend to take care of their own when they step out of line," Kannen supplied.
"Yes indeed," Gary agreed. "It can get very ugly. Come inside, I'll make us all coffee and we can get started." He shook his head and wandered away muttering under his breath.
"I always thought wolves were scary," I remarked.
"Some are. Most aren't," Kannen said. He picked up a shirt from the floor and shook the shards of glass out before he placed it aside on a rack. "Trust me, you're better off to have Gary and his pack at your back than just about anyone. Meet these guys in a dark alley, they're just as likely to offer you a cupcake."
While I laughed, Kannen added, "Well, some of them. A few have egos the size of—" He waved a hand. "Well you get it."
"So," I ventured as I folded a pair of pants carefully, "these wolves all turned each other? Like vampires?"
"Firstly, there's no such thing as vampires," Kannen said. "Blood-sucking demons, yes, but no Draculas. Secondly, no. Most of them were born that way."
"Most?"
Kannen shrugged. "Some know about the packs and want to join. There are ways, usually involving a ton of magic, a full moon, and a virgin."
I raised my eyebrows.
Kannen grinned. "Just joking about the virgin. Besides, where would anyone find one in this city?"
"Seamus?" I replied, trying not to smile.
"Boom." Kannen pushed the glass into a pile with his foot. "Although, he isn't."
I flushed. "Not that it's any of my business… "
Kannen grimaced. "Oh, hells no. He's very nice and all, but he's not my type."
"Don't tell me," I said, trying not to look too relieved, "you can smell it?"
"Ewww, no." Kannen waved a hand in front of his face. "I have a friend. They went out once or twice."
Hunting Darkness (City of Darkness Book 1) Page 8
