The Hunter

by T R Kohler

  “A whip,” Jonas said, adding nothing more. There was no need to go through a replay of what had transpired.

  He had lost, beaten by a girl with a fraction of his experience.

  That was all there was to it.

  “A whip did this?” Gad asked, his voice relaying a twinge of disbelief.

  Flicking his gaze from the leg to Gad, a host of comments came to Jonas’s mind. Recognizing each as nothing more than wounded pride, lashing out merely for the sake of it, he bit every one back.

  There was more work to come. No need to create internal dissension.

  “It was on fire.”

  Pausing what he was doing, Gad turned his focus up toward Jonas. Moving only his eyes, he locked his gaze on the older man for a full moment before returning to work, peeling away the blackened char.

  In its place was nothing more than bright-pink flesh, hinting at the gnarled scar it would leave behind, a permanent reminder of what had taken place.

  Almost made Jonas wish that Kaia was getting something worse than matching indentations on her chest and back.

  “Who’s the girl?” Gad asked, this time without glancing up.

  “That’s no girl,” Jonas responded. “Name is Kaia, a mid-level demon. Been around, I don’t know, maybe fifty years or more.”

  Gad nodded slightly. “So you’ve crossed paths with her before?”

  “Few times,” Jonas said. “Just once head-to-head. Others were more like we were both monitoring the same thing, neither felt like escalating it.”

  Even at that, it had been a long time since Jonas had heard the name Kaia. So long that it took him a moment to place her when he first saw her tearing away from the house in Del Mar, sitting behind the wheel of the Jeep, hair flying behind her.

  Ultimately, it was the hair that snapped things into place for him, the look exceptionally rare for someone in her position.

  Most of the time, demons got off on trying to look as scary as possible.

  “What about the other one?” Gad asked. Dabbing at the last few spots, he leaned away, inspecting his work. Turning his body to get a better look, he nodded in satisfaction before looking up to Jonas again.

  “The other one?”

  “Yeah,” Gad said. “Micah mentioned another one when I worked on him. Said it was some woman that he’d put down a couple times and she kept getting up.”

  Nodding slightly, Jonas remained silent, contemplating the question. He watched as Gad sprayed his leg with some form of topical ointment before beginning to apply a final dressing, wrapping the flesh-colored bandage around his leg.

  The woman was still nothing more than a name to him. Ember, a moniker that could have been from life, or could have been the work of somebody on the other side.

  It did sort of sound like something they would come up with.

  Twice now he had encountered her. The first time, she was sprawled out in the living room, and he had more important things to tend to.

  The second, he had been busy getting his ass kicked, Micah winning the fight before she ultimately won the day.

  Who she was or where she came from, Jonas didn’t yet know. Certainly not a demon, it wasn’t clear what her skillset was or why she was around, though he had a feeling he would be finding out soon enough.

  “What sort of shape is the girl in?” Jonas asked.

  Finishing the wrap, Gad looked up to him, his eyebrows rising slightly. “Which one?”

  “The one we brought in.”

  “Don’t know,” Gad said. “I haven’t looked at her yet. Figured getting you and Micah up and moving was first priority.”

  A soft grunt passed Jonas’s lips as he nodded. Making sure the fighting force was ready for the next encounter was most important. Unless directly instructed, Gad’s initial move would always be to provide aid.

  “Soon as we’re done, go check on her,” Jonas said.

  “You want her up and active too?” Gad asked.

  “No,” Jonas replied, shaking his head, “just the opposite. Keep her sedated as much as you can.”

  Lowering his foot to the floor, Jonas stood. As the muscles and tendons in his leg flexed under his weight, pain shot the length of it, white lights popping before his eyes. Sucking in a sharp breath, he remained stationary, waiting for it to pass, before gingerly making his way from the room.

  There was another fight coming. He knew it, and he needed to be ready for it.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  The front gate outside of John Lee Tam’s house in La Jolla looked no different in the dark of night than it had thirty-six hours prior when Ember made her first trip to the site. Illuminated by bright spotlights, the metal seemed to almost glow, visible the length of the street.

  “Damn,” Ember muttered, pulling the VW Bus up just short of it and easing to a stop. Parking exactly where Kaia had, she climbed out and walked around the front hood, this time not bothering to avoid the security panel as she went.

  Even if they did see her pass by on the camera, at most it would save her nothing more than a few seconds. The instant she touched down on the opposite side of the gate, Toby would be on her.

  The only difference was, this time she was ready.

  Having shed the blood-soaked jeans and long-sleeve shirt she’d been wearing for two days, Ember was dressed in spandex workout pants and a tank top. Both in black, they resembled what she would have worn to the gym as recently as a week before, the clothes and running shoes far more comfortable. With each step, she could feel her body awakening, returning to form, responding in the way she had trained it to for so long.

  Adrenaline slowly ebbed into her system, a slow drip prepping her for whatever the night held in store.

  Her left arm was wrapped in a tight bandage, the white dressing flashing bright as she moved. Looped over the same arm was the tattered bag she had taken from Kaia, for the moment cool and quiet.

  Though that would soon be changing.

  Going straight for the corner of the gate, Ember jammed her foot above the lowest hinge and started to work her way up. Armed with a cocktail of Advil and anticipation, she barely noticed her arm as she moved, ignoring any pain that might be lingering.

  In its place was nothing more than resolve.

  She had agreed to this employment. She had chosen this new existence, and even if she didn’t agree with it, even if she hated everything it represented, she would see it through.

  Because what it would mean if she didn’t was simply too great to bear.

  Reaching the top of the gate, Ember hooked a foot over the opposite side. Swinging her weight over, she grasped tight with both hands, lowering her feet more than halfway down before letting go and dropping to the driveway.

  The instant her feet touched flat, she swiveled toward the house. A fair number of lights were blazing bright, despite the late hour. Beads of sweat came to the surface as the scent of leather grew stronger, tendrils of smoke rising around her.

  In the distance, a single bark could be heard.

  Remaining perched on one knee, her body crouched in front of the gate, poised for movement, Ember slid the bag from her shoulder. Keeping the top closed, she reached inside, wrapping her fingers around the base of the handle and squeezing tight.

  Her features rigid, Ember’s breathing increased as she stared the length of the driveway, listening as the barking grew louder. Ever closer it seemed to come as a white specter emerged, darting straight for her. Moving in long, even strides, it burst her way, each thunderous bawl louder than the one before.

  The heat inside the bag grew stronger, smoke rising in a plume around her. Passing over her skin, it burned her eyes, tickled her nose, moving steadily upward, the bag it was in barely able to contain it.

  Still, Ember waited, watching as the dog closed the gap between them.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Ember had never used a whip before. Living in a major city in the 21st century, there was never a reason for it. She wasn’t a cowp
oke rustling steers, and she wasn’t training to be the next Indiana Jones.

  Even if the unmistakable sound was pretty badass, it just wasn’t a practical weapon.

  Not compared to the Glock 17 she’d carried every day for the last fifteen years, anyway.

  Staring down the big white animal as it bounded toward her, Ember didn’t allow that thought to bother her. She didn’t pause to think she should have done some practicing outside the motel. Couldn’t imagine herself trying to pick cans off the picnic table while so much else was going on.

  Squeezing the handle a bit tighter, she could almost feel it imparting confidence into her, flowing the length of her arm. She drew her mouth into a tight line, the heat inside the bag growing higher still.

  Holding, waiting, she remained rooted until the space between them was no more than ten yards before springing to her feet. The singed remains of the bag fell away as she cast the whip out to the side, the glowing flame almost blinding in the dark of night.

  Rotating her arm at the elbow, she flicked the end of it across her body, the bright tip arcing in front of her, passing just inches from the dog’s nose. Pulling to a stop instantly, it stood in the center of the driveway, body coiled. Jowls pulled back, two rows of razor-sharp teeth glinted, an unending stream of barking pulsating from its throat.

  Keeping the whip in a perpetual state of motion, Ember flexed her wrist before her, the weapon moving at all times, maintaining the precious separation she needed.

  “Rocco!” she called, voice just barely audible over the sound of Toby’s barking. “Where are you?!”

  Standing just inside the gate, Ember counted off three long minutes. Locked in a standoff with the dog, she continued the constant progress of the whip, slowly inching forward, driving the animal back the way it had come.

  Sweat leaked from her body, lactic acid slowly building in her forearm.

  Still, she kept pressing forward.

  This was the sole choice she had. Finding Tam was the only way to hand over the mirror, to end this first foray into Hell’s employ. It was also the only way to retrieve Kaia.

  Tracking her wasn’t an option. Neither was finding Jonas.

  It was this or nothing.

  “Rocco!” she called again, to no avail.

  Inch by inch, she made her way up the driveway, the dog making her earn every bit. Nails scraping against the cobbled brick, his incessant barking never ceased, his hate-filled gaze leveled on her.

  Once, twice more she rotated the whip, alternating her gaze between the driveway and the dog. Seeing nothing, she drew in a sharp breath.

  It was time.

  Jerking her shoulder up, she sent the whip straight at the dog. Lunging backward just centimeters from being struck, the animal snapped out at it, the tip making the trademark cracking noise.

  Increasing her pace, Ember shot it straight forward time and again, driving him back toward the house. Past the manicured flower beds, beyond the fountain sitting out front, she worked her way onward, each flick of the wrist filling her with more confidence.

  “Rocco!” she yelled once more, giving the man a final chance to show himself.

  Seeing nothing, she flicked the whip out to the side. Dropping into a full sprint, she charged straight ahead, swinging the flaming weapon in from the side.

  For an instant, the move played right to the dog’s instincts. Matching her energy, he bolted two strides forward, coming in fast, before realization set in.

  Paws scrambling against concrete, it dropped to a hip, turning back toward the house. All four legs kicked simultaneously as it fought for purchase, aimed at maintaining the gap between them.

  For as noble an effort as it was, this time the animal’s natural dexterity was a touch too slow.

  The flaming end of the whip shot in from the side, snaking around the dog’s rear legs. Snapping them together, it slid around its knees, pulling tight.

  On contact, a pained yelp exploded from the animal, the sound of meat searing rolling out. An instant after, the smell of burnt hair and flesh followed as Ember drew back on the whip, pulling it taut.

  No match for the pain coursing through it, the dog put up no fight. Its rear legs slid to the ground, followed in order by its stomach and chest.

  All that remained upright was the muzzle, pointed toward the heavens, wailing.

  Seeing the position, knowing she had it confused for at least a moment, Ember shoved forward. Pushing off her rear foot, she pounded over the short distance between them. Placing a knee in the center of the dog’s back, she dropped her weight down atop him, feeling his striated muscles flex and unfurl with each cry.

  “You bite my leg, I bite yours. Right, buddy?” Ember said through clenched teeth. Adjusting her weight, balancing atop the enormous creature, she made sure he was pinned to the ground before drawing the handle of the whip up by her shoulder.

  Pressing down on the button just as she’d seen Kaia do, she heard the obsidian blade slide down, locking into place with a click.

  “Rocco, if you really are the patron saint of dogs, I suggest you get out here right now and talk to me!”

  For the last two days, the rules had been working against her. They had tied her hands, mandating she act certain ways in certain situations.

  It was time to start making them work in her favor as well.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Ember had no problem with dogs. She’d had a few growing up, a miniature schnauzer that slept at the foot of her bed, and of course the ones that always seemed to be around at the farm. Her roommate in college had a lab that often she would take to the park whenever she needed to get outside a bit.

  She and her ex-husband had shared a corgi until their divorce.

  In no way did Ember want to harm the dog.

  But she also knew there was no chance the patron saint of their kind would be allowed to sit idly by while she did, even if it was just a threat.

  Arriving as if summoned, Rocco strode forth out of the house. Still dressed in the same suit and hat he’d been wearing the day before, the sole difference seemed to be the expression on his face.

  Instead of calm and placating, he seemed to be wearing a snarl, his eyes flashing as he looked down at her.

  “What have you done to Toby?”

  Drawing the tip of the blade toward the dog’s white fur, Ember said, “You are going to help me, or it’s about to get a whole lot worse.”

  Incredulous, Rocco walked to within five feet before stopping. He flashed a wild-eyed gaze at the knife, at his charge, before looking up at her.

  “You can’t...you...”

  Ember met his stare. “I can, and then I can come after you.”

  Drawing in deep breaths, the front of Rocco’s suit rose and fell more than an inch in either direction. Passing a hand over his face, he stared down at the scene, color seeming to have drained from his skin.

  “I...I already told you, Mr. Tam isn’t here.”

  “You told me a lot of things, that being the only part that was true,” Ember said.

  Not in the mood for any lying, or discussion, or subterfuge of any form, Ember dropped the tip of the knife down to the dog’s neck. Dragging it just a half-inch across the surface, bright-red droplets sprang forth, staining his white coat.

  In unison, twin sounds poured from both the dog and Rocco. The animal raised its head again, calling out for aid.

  Before him, his master dropped to his knees, his face contorted as if he might cry at any moment.

  “See,” Ember said, keeping the point of the blade in place, “I learned a few things in the last couple of days. Things like who you really are, what rules you’re bound to follow.”

  Dropping her gaze down to the animal, she said, “Just like I learned who this guy really is, and the lengths you’ll go to to save him.”

  If that was true or not, Ember had no way of knowing. Based on the display Rocco was currently putting on, though, she had an inkling it was.

&
nbsp; And that was more than enough.

  His cheeks bunched up, his eyes glassy, Rocco raised his focus to her. He shuddered twice, trying to bite back his emotion, before asking, “Who are you? What do you want?”

  Squeezing the handle tight, Ember made sure he saw the twisted sinew of her arms under the firelight. She stared straight at him, ensuring that whatever words she said next were received and understood.

  “Who I am doesn’t matter. What I want is for you to tell me where to find Tam.”

  Leaning forward, Rocco pressed his palms flat into the ground. He used the new angle to stare down at Toby, almost imploring the animal to stay strong, to hang on a little longer.

  “I already-”

  Another slice went along the back of the dog’s neck, a second splash of blood coloring his snowy mane.

  “This is one big-ass dog,” Ember seethed. “Keep lying to me. Let’s see how many cuts he can withstand.”

  Dropping his face almost flush to the ground, tears streamed down Rocco’s face. His eyes and lips all pulled tight, folds of skin lining his face.

  “You...you monster.”

  In the last couple of days, Ember had seen plenty of people she’d consider monsters working on both sides of the fight. About the only one she couldn’t attach any of the blame to in all of it was the dog she was now perched on.

  At least he had the excuse of not knowing any better.

  “Jonas,” Ember said. “I know Tam is with Jonas.”

  More tears fell as Rocco stared at Toby. Remaining in that position, he sniffled loudly, the sound filled with moisture and phlegm.

  Watching, Ember could see the battle being waged inside of him. As much as he didn’t want to give up Jonas or Tam or anything else, his hands were tied. There was nothing he could do in the face of his loyal servant being held captive.