slammed it shut.
I’m a harvester and you are my bounty.
CHAPTER 4
“Bring it home, punk,” Nick snarled at the voice, dropping his backpack to the floor of the office he shared with Rosa. He braced himself for the fight. “This Cajun don’t go down for nothing. You think you can take me, you better bring some friends.”
The door behind him opened. Nick spun around, ready to battle whatever was there.
As soon as he saw who was entering, he sucked his breath in sharply. It was a giant of a man who stood almost seven feet in height. One who had on a pair of opaque sunglasses that concealed his eyes from view. Wearing black on black, and with long purple hair, he appeared at first glance no older than twenty, but the ferocity of his presence told everyone who came into contact with him that he was much more than what he appeared.
That he was badass enough to take down anyone dumb enough to challenge him.
And thankfully, he was one of Nick’s best friends.
Nick growled at him. “Dang it all, Ash. You scared the crap out of me. Could you please knock once in a while?”
A knock sounded on the door that was open behind Acheron’s gargantuan form. “Better?”
Not really. It was kind of creepy. But at least he knew about Acheron’s unearthly powers and offbeat humor, so the disembodied knock wasn’t that much of a surprise. As the leader of the Dark-Hunters and oldest member of their crew, Ash’s psychic abilities were fierce and scary. The stuff people had nightmares about.
But Nick feared almost nothing, and Ash was definitely no longer on that list.
Rolling his eyes, he sighed. “Little late there with the knock, buddy.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be so jumpy. I forget that teenagers are like puppies. High-strung and nervous for no apparent reason. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t soil the carpet, huh?”
“Ha, ha. More like you, T. rex, were born before doors were invented and don’t know proper protocol. Just to clarify. You knock before you come into a room.”
Ash let out an aggravated breath as he swiped his brow with his middle finger. “For the record, we did have doors eleven thousand years ago. Like many other things you guys erroneously take credit for, you did not invent them.”
Nick snorted. “Uh-huh. That’s what all ancient people say. So what are you doing here?”
Ash tucked his hands into the pockets of his motorcycle jacket that had a skull and crossbones painted across the back of it. “Responding to that wigged-out text you sent me from school. Why are you suddenly curious about demonology?”
There was something about Ash so trustworthy that Nick almost told him everything. But Ambrose had been emphatic that he keep Acheron out of his life as much as possible … for Ash’s sake as much as his own. And while Nick didn’t really trust his future self, he had no reason to doubt Ambrose’s warnings. Especially since Ambrose knew the future and exactly what would happen to Nick if he didn’t change things.
So he opted for a partial truth. “We had one loose in my school so I thought, given that I’m now in the middle of this oh-so-fun world of yours, I ought to educate myself on it in case another one decides to use St. Richard’s or me for a playground.… So do you know any good books about it?”
Acheron laughed deep in his throat. “Now there’s something I never thought to hear coming out of your mouth. At least not unless it involved hentai or manga.”
Nick slapped his knee in a grandiose, sarcastic gesture. “You’re so hilarious. You know, if this whole Daimon-slaying gig doesn’t work out for you, you should really consider being a comedian. The bright Barney hair color would just add to the overall entertainment factor.”
Acheron smiled, flashing a tiny bit of his fangs. Over eleven thousand years old, Ash knew pretty much everything about anything. But unlike most of Nick’s teachers, he wasn’t arrogant or condescending
I’m a harvester and you are my bounty.
CHAPTER 4
“Bring it home, punk,” Nick snarled at the voice, dropping his backpack to the floor of the office he shared with Rosa. He braced himself for the fight. “This Cajun don’t go down for nothing. You think you can take me, you better bring some friends.”
The door behind him opened. Nick spun around, ready to battle whatever was there.
As soon as he saw who was entering, he sucked his breath in sharply. It was a giant of a man who stood almost seven feet in height. One who had on a pair of opaque sunglasses that concealed his eyes from view. Wearing black on black, and with long purple hair, he appeared at first glance no older than twenty, but the ferocity of his presence told everyone who came into contact with him that he was much more than what he appeared.
That he was badass enough to take down anyone dumb enough to challenge him.
And thankfully, he was one of Nick’s best friends.
Nick growled at him. “Dang it all, Ash. You scared the crap out of me. Could you please knock once in a while?”
A knock sounded on the door that was open behind Acheron’s gargantuan form. “Better?”
Not really. It was kind of creepy. But at least he knew about Acheron’s unearthly powers and offbeat humor, so the disembodied knock wasn’t that much of a surprise. As the leader of the Dark-Hunters and oldest member of their crew, Ash’s psychic abilities were fierce and scary. The stuff people had nightmares about.
But Nick feared almost nothing, and Ash was definitely no longer on that list.
Rolling his eyes, he sighed. “Little late there with the knock, buddy.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be so jumpy. I forget that teenagers are like puppies. High-strung and nervous for no apparent reason. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t soil the carpet, huh?”
“Ha, ha. More like you, T. rex, were born before doors were invented and don’t know proper protocol. Just to clarify. You knock before you come into a room.”
Ash let out an aggravated breath as he swiped his brow with his middle finger. “For the record, we did have doors eleven thousand years ago. Like many other things you guys erroneously take credit for, you did not invent them.”
Nick snorted. “Uh-huh. That’s what all ancient people say. So what are you doing here?”
Ash tucked his hands into the pockets of his motorcycle jacket that had a skull and crossbones painted across the back of it. “Responding to that wigged-out text you sent me from school. Why are you suddenly curious about demonology?”
There was something about Ash so trustworthy that Nick almost told him everything. But Ambrose had been emphatic that he keep Acheron out of his life as much as possible … for Ash’s sake as much as his own. And while Nick didn’t really trust his future self, he had no reason to doubt Ambrose’s warnings. Especially since Ambrose knew the future and exactly what would happen to Nick if he didn’t change things.
So he opted for a partial truth. “We had one loose in my school so I thought, given that I’m now in the middle of this oh-so-fun world of yours, I ought to educate myself on it in case another one decides to use St. Richard’s or me for a playground.… So do you know any good books about it?”
Acheron laughed deep in his throat. “Now there’s something I never thought to hear coming out of your mouth. At least not unless it involved hentai or manga.”
Nick slapped his knee in a grandiose, sarcastic gesture. “You’re so hilarious. You know, if this whole Daimon-slaying gig doesn’t work out for you, you should really consider being a comedian. The bright Barney hair color would just add to the overall entertainment factor.”
Acheron smiled, flashing a tiny bit of his fangs. Over eleven thousand years old, Ash knew pretty much everything about anything. But unlike most of Nick’s teachers, he wasn’t arrogant or condescending
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