got yer word on that, hunter?’
‘Yes, you have my word.’
It was the best Beck could do. Grinding his teeth, he spun and then marched in the other direction. The hunter guarding the stairway moved out of his path in self-preservation.
The walk of shame.
Riley’s fear translated into knocking knees and sweaty palms. She made sure to take deep, deliberate breaths to keep from spiralling into a panic attack. No need to look any guiltier.
The row of hunters positioned along the hallway was heavily armed, like they expected something bad to happen even in a downtown hotel. Beck had told her the guns used special ammunition that could take down a demon. She figured the same would happen with a human. Their eyes held no emotion, as if they’d seen all the evil in the world and it no longer registered.
Was this what Simon wanted to become? Maybe that was what it took to become a demon hunter – a close and brutal encounter with a fiend that forced you to see the world in only black and white, holy and hellish, with no room for shades of grey. If the job required selling out those you loved, her ex-boyfriend was all set.
A door opened further down the hallway and Beck exited, a dark scowl on his stubbled face. The front of his T-shirt was filthy, his jeans as well, like he’d been tossed into a pile of dirt. The look on his face was more than anger. Under it she read resentment and distrust, and all of it was aimed in her direction.
He and Salvatore traded words, none of which she caught, and then Beck erupted in a snarl and was gone, stomping away like he couldn’t stand to share the same air as her. Her knees shook harder.
When she reached the room he’d had just vacated, one of the hunters beckoned for her to hand over her backpack. Salvatore had warned her they would do that, so she relinquished it without a struggle. Riley wasn’t prepared for the other hunter insisting she lean against the wall so he could pat her down.
‘It’s not needed, Corsini,’ the captain said. ‘Secure her in the room. We’ll wait until the Guild’s representative arrives.’
‘But, sir, Father Rosetti said he wanted to talk to her immediately,’ the hunter replied.
‘It will do no good. She isn’t going to answer our questions until Stewart is here.’
Which was her clue to do exactly that. Whose side is this guy on?
‘But, sir . . .’ Corsini protested, no doubt realizing he was going to take the heat if the priest’s orders weren’t carried out properly.
‘I’ll talk to Rosetti. Make her comfortable. That’s an order.’ The captain turned towards Riley. ‘If you need anything, let me know.’
Riley nodded. There seemed to be one decent guy in this shark tank. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the one running the Inquisition.
As she entered the room, Riley let out the lungful of air she’d been holding tight inside her. After all the hunters and the weapons, the room seemed out of character. A sumptuous king bed, a royal blue couch and a large window overlooking the city. The morning sun filtered through the curtains. She noticed a tray on the desk, the remnants of the previous prisoner’s breakfast. Next to it was a newspaper.
At least they didn’t starve you.
Not knowing what else to do, she sat on the side of the bed. It was warm and the pillow had an indentation, suggesting that Beck had been here a few moments before. Ignoring the hunter sitting by the door, she stretched out, turning her back to the guy. The pillow smelt like Beck’s aftershave.
I was so wrong. Even Peter thought Beck liked her, and he’d only met the guy once, at her father’s funeral. Every time Beck tried to help her, she just pushed back, creating an increasingly unbreakable wall between them. Her way of paying him back for dissing her. Now she just felt like a stupid little kid.
I’m sorry. For all of it.
Maybe someday she’d get the chance to tell him that in person.
The raised voices outside Riley’s door caught her
‘Yes, you have my word.’
It was the best Beck could do. Grinding his teeth, he spun and then marched in the other direction. The hunter guarding the stairway moved out of his path in self-preservation.
The walk of shame.
Riley’s fear translated into knocking knees and sweaty palms. She made sure to take deep, deliberate breaths to keep from spiralling into a panic attack. No need to look any guiltier.
The row of hunters positioned along the hallway was heavily armed, like they expected something bad to happen even in a downtown hotel. Beck had told her the guns used special ammunition that could take down a demon. She figured the same would happen with a human. Their eyes held no emotion, as if they’d seen all the evil in the world and it no longer registered.
Was this what Simon wanted to become? Maybe that was what it took to become a demon hunter – a close and brutal encounter with a fiend that forced you to see the world in only black and white, holy and hellish, with no room for shades of grey. If the job required selling out those you loved, her ex-boyfriend was all set.
A door opened further down the hallway and Beck exited, a dark scowl on his stubbled face. The front of his T-shirt was filthy, his jeans as well, like he’d been tossed into a pile of dirt. The look on his face was more than anger. Under it she read resentment and distrust, and all of it was aimed in her direction.
He and Salvatore traded words, none of which she caught, and then Beck erupted in a snarl and was gone, stomping away like he couldn’t stand to share the same air as her. Her knees shook harder.
When she reached the room he’d had just vacated, one of the hunters beckoned for her to hand over her backpack. Salvatore had warned her they would do that, so she relinquished it without a struggle. Riley wasn’t prepared for the other hunter insisting she lean against the wall so he could pat her down.
‘It’s not needed, Corsini,’ the captain said. ‘Secure her in the room. We’ll wait until the Guild’s representative arrives.’
‘But, sir, Father Rosetti said he wanted to talk to her immediately,’ the hunter replied.
‘It will do no good. She isn’t going to answer our questions until Stewart is here.’
Which was her clue to do exactly that. Whose side is this guy on?
‘But, sir . . .’ Corsini protested, no doubt realizing he was going to take the heat if the priest’s orders weren’t carried out properly.
‘I’ll talk to Rosetti. Make her comfortable. That’s an order.’ The captain turned towards Riley. ‘If you need anything, let me know.’
Riley nodded. There seemed to be one decent guy in this shark tank. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the one running the Inquisition.
As she entered the room, Riley let out the lungful of air she’d been holding tight inside her. After all the hunters and the weapons, the room seemed out of character. A sumptuous king bed, a royal blue couch and a large window overlooking the city. The morning sun filtered through the curtains. She noticed a tray on the desk, the remnants of the previous prisoner’s breakfast. Next to it was a newspaper.
At least they didn’t starve you.
Not knowing what else to do, she sat on the side of the bed. It was warm and the pillow had an indentation, suggesting that Beck had been here a few moments before. Ignoring the hunter sitting by the door, she stretched out, turning her back to the guy. The pillow smelt like Beck’s aftershave.
I was so wrong. Even Peter thought Beck liked her, and he’d only met the guy once, at her father’s funeral. Every time Beck tried to help her, she just pushed back, creating an increasingly unbreakable wall between them. Her way of paying him back for dissing her. Now she just felt like a stupid little kid.
I’m sorry. For all of it.
Maybe someday she’d get the chance to tell him that in person.
The raised voices outside Riley’s door caught her
Similar Books
