first line ward," he says as we run, me letting him direct us because he knows where the ward was crossed. "Hopefully it turned whoever it was back."
"You think it was a Mediator?"
"At this point, I don't think it would be anyone else."
The sun has just gone down, blurring the lines of possibility. It could be a demon ringing our doorbell, but I don't know. It's open season on me. And my brother.
Panic claws its way up my spine, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I catch a whiff of Evis's scent, an hour or so old, and Jax's too. They were here not long ago. I can only hope they're nowhere near right now.
Carrick points through the oaks and hickories that line our path. "It's that way about two hundred yards. I want to circle around, see if we can catch their scent where they came in and see if they turned about or not."
As we run, the woods go silent. Carrick and I exchange a glance, and I'm not sure if I am relieved that there are demons afoot or disturbed that they're so close to home.
The sky darkens through the bare branched trees. Up ahead, I smell blood. Demon blood…and human.
"Fuck." I speed up, Carrick pacing me.
I don't have to ask if he smells it too.
A hundred yards back from the road that leads to the cabin, there's a small clearing just past the ward line. Jax and Evis are standing in it, faces grim, but they don't smell of blood, hellkin or human in origin. A little of sweat and a little of deer, but whoever made the blood hit the dirt wasn't them.
Two slummoths and a blitz demon are sprawled on the far side of the clearing. "Did you see a person?" I ask, hurrying to Evis to touch his shoulder. He returns it, his fingers warm even through my shirt.
Jax does the same in a moment, and the reassurance that they're both okay calms me.
"There was a Mediator, but we stayed out of sight," Jax says. "It looked like she was tracking the slummoths, not us. She got clawed across the shoulder and went back the way she came after the demons were dead. She didn't seem like she was coming closer to the cabin."
But even Jax doesn't look convinced by his own words. None of us believe in coincidence, not when there's several thousand people across the country who want to separate our heads from our necks.
"Any pings on the inner circles of the wards?" From where I stand, I can see the Mediator beacon on the tree. The splat crew will be here in a bit to clean up the corpses of the demons.
Carrick shakes his head. "It's just us, and this clearing is just outside the wards. Whoever comes to get the bodies shouldn't trip it again. These ones barely did."
Even though I can't smell any other beings but the ones around me, I can't shake the queasy pit in my stomach as we walk back to the cabin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Ayala." My name is accompanied by a finger gingerly poking me in the shoulder.
I open my eyes, and there's Jax again, his own indigo stare — and it is a stare — a mere two inches from my face. His breath smells like meat.
"I'm awake."
He pulls back, gratified. "Carrick answered your phone."
Jax leaves the room, and I hop out of bed.
Shades are like children sometimes. You tell them to wake you, and they'll do it in the way they think makes sense, which apparently for Jax is getting close enough to see if I'm breathing. Next time I should specify that knocking on my bedroom door will suffice.
Come to think of it, Jax must have taken pains to not wake me until he was two inches from my face. Maybe he thinks it's funny.
Any hint of humor vanishes from my body the moment I see Carrick's face.
"Saturn called," he says. "The shade killings here aren't the only ones. There's another territory affected."
"Where?"
From both Carrick and Evis, I can feel apprehension rolling off them like raindrops off the back of a duck.
"Seattle," Carrick says finally.
"Where Gregor is." I don't need anyone to show their work on this math problem. The shades showing up in the territory I'm
"You think it was a Mediator?"
"At this point, I don't think it would be anyone else."
The sun has just gone down, blurring the lines of possibility. It could be a demon ringing our doorbell, but I don't know. It's open season on me. And my brother.
Panic claws its way up my spine, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I catch a whiff of Evis's scent, an hour or so old, and Jax's too. They were here not long ago. I can only hope they're nowhere near right now.
Carrick points through the oaks and hickories that line our path. "It's that way about two hundred yards. I want to circle around, see if we can catch their scent where they came in and see if they turned about or not."
As we run, the woods go silent. Carrick and I exchange a glance, and I'm not sure if I am relieved that there are demons afoot or disturbed that they're so close to home.
The sky darkens through the bare branched trees. Up ahead, I smell blood. Demon blood…and human.
"Fuck." I speed up, Carrick pacing me.
I don't have to ask if he smells it too.
A hundred yards back from the road that leads to the cabin, there's a small clearing just past the ward line. Jax and Evis are standing in it, faces grim, but they don't smell of blood, hellkin or human in origin. A little of sweat and a little of deer, but whoever made the blood hit the dirt wasn't them.
Two slummoths and a blitz demon are sprawled on the far side of the clearing. "Did you see a person?" I ask, hurrying to Evis to touch his shoulder. He returns it, his fingers warm even through my shirt.
Jax does the same in a moment, and the reassurance that they're both okay calms me.
"There was a Mediator, but we stayed out of sight," Jax says. "It looked like she was tracking the slummoths, not us. She got clawed across the shoulder and went back the way she came after the demons were dead. She didn't seem like she was coming closer to the cabin."
But even Jax doesn't look convinced by his own words. None of us believe in coincidence, not when there's several thousand people across the country who want to separate our heads from our necks.
"Any pings on the inner circles of the wards?" From where I stand, I can see the Mediator beacon on the tree. The splat crew will be here in a bit to clean up the corpses of the demons.
Carrick shakes his head. "It's just us, and this clearing is just outside the wards. Whoever comes to get the bodies shouldn't trip it again. These ones barely did."
Even though I can't smell any other beings but the ones around me, I can't shake the queasy pit in my stomach as we walk back to the cabin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"Ayala." My name is accompanied by a finger gingerly poking me in the shoulder.
I open my eyes, and there's Jax again, his own indigo stare — and it is a stare — a mere two inches from my face. His breath smells like meat.
"I'm awake."
He pulls back, gratified. "Carrick answered your phone."
Jax leaves the room, and I hop out of bed.
Shades are like children sometimes. You tell them to wake you, and they'll do it in the way they think makes sense, which apparently for Jax is getting close enough to see if I'm breathing. Next time I should specify that knocking on my bedroom door will suffice.
Come to think of it, Jax must have taken pains to not wake me until he was two inches from my face. Maybe he thinks it's funny.
Any hint of humor vanishes from my body the moment I see Carrick's face.
"Saturn called," he says. "The shade killings here aren't the only ones. There's another territory affected."
"Where?"
From both Carrick and Evis, I can feel apprehension rolling off them like raindrops off the back of a duck.
"Seattle," Carrick says finally.
"Where Gregor is." I don't need anyone to show their work on this math problem. The shades showing up in the territory I'm
Similar Books
