I spun on my heel and shot a withering glare at Wilder, who’d forgotten to bring his shirt with him. “I thought I recognised the arsehole tone in your voice.”
“I’m one of a kind.” Glancing at Romy, he added, “I’ve got her from here.”
“Nuh-ah,” she said, waving her finger at him. “I’ve got my orders, Wilder. Back off.”
“I’ll fight you for her,” he said with a grin, “one-on-one.”
“That’s cheating,” Romy said with a pout. “You’re a higher rank than me.”
“Can you put on a shirt already?” I declared.
“Why?” His lips quirked. “Embarrassed by finding all this attractive?”
“Don’t make me vomit.”
Romy sighed and grabbed a T-shirt from a passerby. “Here. But I’ll be back in ten minutes and I expect to find Scarlett in the infirmary.”
Wilder smiled triumphantly and pulled the T-shirt over his head. “You heard her, Purples. Let’s go.”
“Why do you care?” I asked as we stepped out of the training area and into the hallway. “You just wanted to dump me here and not deal with me, remember?”
“First rule in life, Scarlett, is don’t trust anyone.”
“Not even your own kind?”
“Our kind.”
I snorted. “You think I’m a fancy pants Natural? Impossible.”
“It’s not out of the realm of possibilities,” he stated.
I wasn’t up for a debate over how weird I was, so I fell silent as he guided me through the warren of hallways and rooms. The Sanctum must be massive, but it was oddly devoid of activity.
When we reached the infirmary, I glanced through the windows and spotted Jackson. The whole room was open and lined with beds dormitory style, and medical equipment was scattered here and there. At the far end, a curtain had been drawn around one bed, and what I assumed were nurses flitted back and forth. None of them were paying much attention to my best friend at all. Was he just a routine case, or was it something more sinister? Prejudice? Maybe.
“Was it the same demon as Blond Tips?” I asked.
Wilder frowned. “Who?”
“The guy from the pub. Was it the same demon who possessed Jackson?”
“Both were Infernals, but it’s impossible to tell if it was the same one. They all look the same.”
I glanced through the door, beginning to get really worried about what happened next.
“So I figured out this isn’t a hallucination,” I said.
“Took you long enough.”
I bit my tongue and shook my head. “It’s clear I’m not welcome because I’m different,” I went on, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can see the way people have been looking at me and it’s only been five bloody minutes.”
“I know,” Wilder murmured. “I get it.”
I glanced up at him and was surprised to see how troubled he looked. Romy had mentioned something about Wilder being different from everyone else, but something told me not to ask about it. Not yet, anyway.
“They want to test me,” I said. “What does that mean?”
“Greer wants to see if you have any Light,” he explained. “You weren’t supposed to use my arondight blade, and you’re immune to alteration. You’re an anomaly, Purples, and they want to understand why.”
“Or work out what side I’m on.”
“I didn’t want to say it like that, but yes. It’s a real possibility.”
“I’m not a demon,” I stated, bristling with annoyance. “I’m not some secret weapon here to destroy you all from the inside.”
Wilder tensed and lowered his gaze. “Not knowingly.”
I snorted, seriously offended.
“That’s what they want to figure out, Scarlett.”
Then why show me everything? Was it all one giant ruse? If I was naïve and life hadn’t taught me that all people were awful when it came to the crunch, I would’ve blindly accepted all of this. Acceptance and lack of questioning was the kiss of death in my book. One way or another, everyone had a motive. The only exception to that was Jackson. He was good, kind, honest… and nothing like these Naturals.
“I can’t trust anyone,” I whispered.
I fully expected Wilder to tell me I could trust him, and part of me wanted him to, but all he did was grasp my shoulders and turn me towards the door. “You better go see your boyfriend.”
“He’s not…” I sighed.
“You better tell him that then.” Wilder shoved me and I practically stumbled into the infirmary.
Heads swivelled as the door slammed behind me and my cheeks heated.
“Scarlett!”
Spotting Jackson’s waving hand, I scurried across the infirmary, shying away from the unwanted attention.
“Hey,” I said, dragging a chair to the side of his bed. It made an awful scraping sound and everyone turned—again—and glared as I arranged myself.
“Hey,” Jackson said with a weak smile. He looked paler than usual, and a little grey around the edges. He was propped up in bed and had those little round white stickers on his chest with coloured wires running out of them. The machine next to his bed displayed some numbers and a graph that looked like a heartbeat, but it was irregular.
“They said that squiggly line is my soul,” he said as I squinted at the readings. “Messed up, isn’t it?”
“This whole thing is crazy,” I agreed. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit warmed up.”
“An eloquent way of putting it.” I smiled, suddenly shy in front of the one person I trusted the most. Wilder had pushed me off balance again and it was infuriating.
“I’ve heard a lot of crazy stuff,” he said, glancing across the room. “They said I was possessed by a demon. Scarlett, that’s some weird shit, but I’m missing time like I blacked out. Just like you did…”
“It’s cool,” I reassured him. “I wasn’t possessed. My story is, well… different. What do you remember?”
“I don’t remember, that’s the point.” He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I was walking in the front door of our flat, then I woke up here. It was weird as hell. That rather unapproachable doctor told me I’d been possessed by a demon and after that, I seriously thought I was in an asylum. I still don’t know what to believe, but I’ve got a mad sore throat. I didn’t do anything weird, did I?”
“Um…” I shook off the image of his possessed body trying to grasp his you know what. “No, you didn’t do anything.”
“Scarlett… Am I…”
“Unfortunately, everything they told you is true. Demons, demon hunters, possession.” I made a face, then proceeded to fill him in on everything that’d happened to me in the last two days. I left nothing out, even explaining the significance of the ugly troll doll and the missing time I’d experienced, even the encounter with the creepy spider-like demon on the tube.
“That explains why you were talking to yourself,” Jackson said, resting his head back on the pillow. “And why you ran off at breakfast.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” He glanced around and waited until a nurse walked past. Once we were alone again, he murmured, “What are you going to do? You don’t seriously trust these people, do you? I know they helped me, but they must want something in return because I don’t think this place is part of the NHS. Do you think they take Bitcoin?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Answers are just more questions in this place.”
“Scarlett…”
“They’re going to test me for powers or something,” I blurted. “Wilder thinks I might have some of that Light they’re so crazy over, which is why I was able to use his sword.”
“Wilder? The guy who almost got you killed?” He scowled, pouting like a sulky teenager.
“Stop that,” I said, swatting his arm. “He saved your life.”
“And it cuts me up that I was saved by a guy like him.” He pouted. “I don’t like the way he looks at yo
u.”
“The way he…? Ugh. He looks at me like I’m a piece of shit on his boot.”
“You’re so clueless,” he murmured, closing his eyes.
“Clueless or not, I’m out of here the second they get their payment. Not that I’m sure I’ve got much to go back to other than job hunting,” I said with a groan. “I’ve missed one shift already at 8-bit and ran out on another.”
“Missing one shift? I think you’ll be fine.”
“That’s if they ever let us out of here.”
Jackson paled. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to blindly trust them, but something weird is going on.” I grasped his hand and squeezed. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll figure something out. You’re the strongest person I know.”
“Even with the meds?”
“Even with the meds.”
I groaned and closed my eyes, realising I hadn’t taken any of my prescribed pills for days now. Oddly, I hadn’t had any episodes yet—no flashbacks, dreams, or mood swings—but I’d been comatose for most of it. If they were going to test me, maybe I should say something. Ugh, I was so confused.
“Who is that?”
I opened my eyes at the sound of his surprised question and I glanced up at Romy, who was walking towards us.
“I’m Romy!” she said brightly. “Nice to meet you.”
“Well, her outsides are not like her insides,” he said, his eyes almost popping out of his head.
“Don’t be fooled by the exterior, human,” she declared. “That’s the first rule of demon hunting.”
Jackson glanced at me and I shrugged. This place was full of juxtapositions.
“Are you hungry, Scarlett?”
I glanced at Jackson and he nodded towards the door. “Go,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”
Romy cocked her head towards the other side of the room where the surly doctor I’d met on the way into the Sanctum was writing something on a fancy tablet computer. “Ramona’s a bitch, but she’s a great doctor. She’ll watch out for your friend.”
“See?” Jackson said with a smirk. “I’ll be fine with the surly doctor.”
I rose to my feet, but hesitated. I had that weird vibe again, like something invisible was breathing down the back of my neck.
“Go on,” he prodded. “When you find out what’s going on around here, you can come back and fill me in.”
“All right,” I said, stretching out the words. “Don’t go anywhere okay?”
“Where would he go?” Romy said with a laugh. “He’s tethered.”
“Yeah, Scarlett, I’m tethered.” He poked at the sensors stuck to his chest.
“No, silly,” Romy declared, “you’re tethered.”
Jackson and I exchanged a worried look.
“Hurry back?” he asked with a squeak.
He didn’t have to ask me twice. “As fast as I can.”
8
Romy didn’t let me stray on our way to the kitchen.
We passed more displays of weapons I desperately wanted to look at, but on my fifth attempt, she threaded her arm through mine and practically dragged me through the Sanctum. When we finally arrived, I wasn’t surprised to find the room looked like a medieval banquet hall with all the trimmings, with a touch of modern convenience.
Through the open window, I could see the long galley-style kitchen with stainless steel appliances. There were three long tables that could easily seat at least twenty people a piece and a buffet-style spread of pre-prepared food in the dining room. People moved back and forth along the wall of food while others hurried in and out of the kitchen. It must be lunchtime.
Romy grabbed two plates off the warmer at the end of the buffet and began to fill them with salad, much to my horror. Five varieties of lettuce, garnished with purple onion, carrot, cucumber, those little cubes of crunchy bread, and a slimy layer of dressing. She bypassed the soup, a decent-looking stew, and the pile of bread and rolls, and found us a seat at one of the tables.
“There aren’t many people here,” I said. “Greer mentioned that only a few rooms were occupied?”
“Yeah, the Naturals aren’t what they used to be,” Romy said, setting the plates down. She slid into a chair and gestured for me to sit.
“Why?”
“The world is more accessible, I guess. People can go anywhere and do anything. Why would they want to be stuck in this place and risking their lives when they could be on a holiday in Ibiza.”
“That’s irresponsible,” I muttered. “Do they know there’s demons and shit out there?”
“Someone else is taking care of it.” Romy rolled her eyes and pouted. “Becoming a Natural is hard work, Scarlett. Not everyone is cut out for it.”
I could understand that. We lived in a world of fast food, Netflix and chill, and five-second attention spans. Dedication wasn’t something that was nurtured like it used to be. Even I had trouble finishing things I’d started.
Chairs scraped against the tiles beside us and plates were dumped on the table next to ours. Three more Naturals joined us—two men and a woman—and I glanced at them nervously. Romy seemed to be a social magnet and without her, I was sure there’d be a five-meter exclusion zone around my current location.
The woman smiled, flashing her ultra-straight teeth. She was another lean, athletic-type, with flame red hair and freckles for days. Her green eyes bordered on shiny emerald, and if it weren’t for the scar that split her left eyebrow in two, she’d be flawless as well.
The men were much more rugged. The blue-eyed guy beside me had disheveled blonde hair and a standard black T-shirt that was torn at the collar. The other dude was sporting a full beard and man bun, but he looked way too tough to be a hipster. His muscles bulged and the fork he held in his hand looked like a dollhouse prop.
“Is this Wilder’s new pet?” the blond guy next to me asked with narrowed eyes.
“If you’re searching for my second head, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” I drawled. “I left it at home.”
Romy and the other Naturals burst out laughing, and the man scowled.
“That’s Valeria, Martin, and Aloysius,” Romy said.
“Aloysius?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the beefcake opposite. The name didn’t fit at all, and I wondered why his parents had been so cruel.
“Don’t get me started. Call me Alo, please.” He winked and shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth, a shred of carrot getting stuck in his beard.
“We all trained together,” Romy said to me. “Alo is a year older than us, though.”
“What’s the deal with that?” I asked, rubbing the condensation off my glass with a finger. “Training?”
“We’re selected when we’re children,” Valeria replied, her Irish accent thick and juicy. “Then we train in the art of killing demons. Using our Light, weapons, theory, that kind of thing.”
“We’re elite warriors,” Martin said with an air of arrogance. “Just because someone has Light doesn’t automatically make them cut out to be a Natural.”
Romy nudged me under the table and made a face, signalling Martin often liked to get up on his high horse and have a gallop.
“So, you were unlucky enough to have an encounter with Wilder,” Alo said. “And you survived?” He whistled as he speared a cherry tomato with his fork.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, watching as the juice from the tomato splattered across his plate.
“People say a lot of things about him,” Valeria declared, “most of them bad.”
“Yeah, they say his mother was raped by a demon.”
“Martin!” Romy exclaimed.
“Well, they do.” He shrugged, not masking his obvious dislike for Wilder.
“Wilder’s a bit of a mystery,” Valeria said to me. “No one knows for sure, but we know he’s on constant probation.”
From the sound of it, his tentative standing was due to much more than just his dislik
e of authority that he’d made constantly clear from the way he’d spoken to Greer that morning.
“Speak of the devil,” Alo declared.
“That’s an awful idiom,” Valeria said. “I wish you wouldn’t use it.”
“Scarlett.”
I glanced up at the sound of Wilder’s voice, wondering what I’d done to deserve so much of his attention today.
He glared down at me, ignoring the other Naturals. “It’s time.”
“Already?”
He nodded.
I pushed my chair back and rose to my feet, my stomach churning like I was about to go to the executioner’s block and that bland salad was my last meal, served to me by a mother who thought she knew best, but not really.
“Thanks for the… uh, food,” I said to Romy, who smiled in return.
“Don’t mention it.”
Their eyes were glued to our backs as Wilder led me from the dining room and out into the hall. I didn’t know how he put up with the snickering, the snide comments, the distrust. The longer I was here, the more I wanted to know what was up with him.
“Wilder?”
Her grunted.
“Don’t grunt at me,” I grumbled as we passed a display of what looked like an older style of arondight blades. They were only ornate sword hilts, but knowing how Wilder’s worked, I assumed the pointy bit was deactivated.
We turned into an alcove and descended down a flight of stairs. Overhead, an ornate chandelier hung, the crystal reflected shards of light from the open skylight. Unlike the one in my room, plain glass was open to the grey sky beyond.
“Did you want to ask me something, Purples?” Wilder asked with a smirk.
“I want to ask you a lot of things, but you’re not exactly in an approachable mood.”
“I’d spit it out if I were you. We don’t have much time.” Well, that didn’t sound ominous at all.
“Is it… Is it going to hurt?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No. It’s not an autopsy, Purples.”
“May as well be,” I drawled as we turned into a darkened hallway in the bowels of the Sanctum.
“It’s more emotional than psychically painful,” he said after a moment.
“You’ve had this test before?”
Dark Descent Page 7
