Between the Bleeding Willows (The Demon Hunters Series Book 1) (2 page)

fortitudine, et virtute

Gram had said it was Latin for strength and power.
I kissed the ring and clasped the chain around my neck. Jace had worn this the night he died.

I wrapped my hand around it, closed my eyes, and thought back to one of my favorite memories—the first time he told me he loved me. We had just watched the Blackhawks defeat the St. Louis Blues on TV and had begun arguing over who was the better defenseman. He had thrown a pillow at me and it had quickly become physical. We had wrestled and laughed till he finally had pinned me and said, “I love you, you stubborn and very wrong girl.” Then he had leaned in to kiss me.

“Jace.” A woman’s voice shook me from my memory. I looked around but did not hear or see anything. Could I have imagined it? The Blaylock Grove path was empty. The forest seemed quiet; not even a breeze blew. Across the busy road I saw my car; the thought of leaving now that I found the necklace seemed like a good idea. Female giggles came from behind me—behind the chain and down the dirt path.
Dammit.
The sky lost its light to a dim indigo, and curiosity got the better of me. I jumped the chain and set off down the dirt path.

Chapter Two

I had no idea where the path would lead me, but I told myself I’d be fine as long as I did not veer from it. The insects hiding in the foliage sang their quiet night songs, and fireflies began to twinkle in the shadows, trying to convince me I made the right choice and would be safe. On the contrary, the trees seemed to reach out for me, unashamed of their menacing appearance. I walked carefully to keep my noise down, not wanting to draw attention to myself or scare off the voice I heard.

The path continued some ways before it joined with a clearing dotted with headstones. Blaylock Grove Cemetery. The headstones were in ruins, kicked over by vandals, no longer marking where the dead were buried. Weeds grew around the grave markers, and fallen branches cluttered the ground. What the hell was the deal with this place? There was a bad vibe here.

I crouched next to a headstone and Googled Blaylock Grove Cemetery. Wikipedia said it was a small abandoned cemetery that was known for its ghost sightings and haunted reputation. My arms got goosebumps, but I continued reading through a few sites. Some believed that the spirits were restless and angry because of the disrespect for their final resting place. In the 1950s, it became a place where couples would come to make out. There was also an increase in vandalism, and it was around this time when the burial ground became known as “haunted.” In the early 1900s, a mob boss and his goons were rumored to have dumped their victims’ bodies into the lagoon at the edge of the cemetery. I looked around and saw a clearing in the tree line ahead; the moon shimmered off of what must be the lagoon. The image gallery showed photos of the grounds in daytime and with infrared film. Looking at the images only made me feel even more unsettled.

“Jace,” the female voice whispered to my right in a seductive tone. I stood frozen in one spot, staring in the direction of the voice, staying as silent and statue-like as I could. In my periphery, I saw a shadowy figure walk across the clearing toward the voice. I couldn’t make out a face so I stood and followed it, hoping for a closer look. In my haste, I snapped a branch beneath my foot.

Crap!

The figure turned toward me. His mouth twisted in a snarl, and his eyes were solid black. Despite these deformities, the face was familiar. My heart and mind warred with each other. Instinct told me to get the hell out of there, but my heart still thrummed for the guy who had captured it four years ago.

Seeing him like this, though…

Jace Peters was a good guy, not evil like the demon before me.

The sound of fast footsteps and cracking branches gained on Jace. I looked to the sound. In the dim moonlight, I could only see a large, dark figure running at full speed. Jace took off and darted between two giant willows at the edge of the cemetery. The dark figure dove at him—and they both vanished before they hit the ground.

What the…?

I ran to the willows, but there was no sign of them. I ducked under the weeping branches and studied the base of the tree, searching for any clue. I grabbed the trunk to steady myself, but quickly retracted my hand when I felt the wet, sticky liquid. Using my phone light to illuminate, I found the willow trunk coated in a dark sap. Putting my soiled fingers to my nose, I could not smell a thing. I touched my tongue to it, and tasted the metallic warmth of blood. Shining the light up the tree top showed me the streaks started as high as I could see and ran down to the roots. I walked to the other willow and found it also oozed blood. The leaves and branches were unremarkable; only the trunks were affected.

Trees didn’t bleed, so what was going on here? Maybe this place really was haunted. Had I witnessed two apparitions tonight, one being my dead boyfriend?

Why was I blaming this on mystical things? I had never believed in ghosts, and I always thought those Ghosthunters shows preyed on gullible people. Well, I wasn’t a gullible person, but I sure as hell had seen two figures disappear right before my eyes tonight.

I needed to get out of there and get home. After I wiped the blood on the weeds below, I grabbed my backpack. Stepping out from beneath the branches onto the path between the bleeding willows, I began falling…down…down…down…

Chapter Three

“I don’t like it one bit. I say you let me take her back right now,” a gruff male voice argued.

“Well you’re the idiot who led her here. Besides, she’s too weak for a crossover. She’d die if you tried,” a woman complained.

I tried to will my eyes open to see who the unfamiliar voices belonged to, but my lids were so heavy.

“I didn’t lead her anywhere. I don’t even know her! She must have followed me.”

A new voice entered the room, husky and powerful. “Killian, we checked the gateway and there are no holes. We even had Angeline check the spells that power it. There is no obvious answer as to how she crossed over.”

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks, Jackson. That’s all for now.” I heard the heavy footsteps leave the room. “Then how the hell did she get through?” Killian’s voice was a quiet mutter. “And how did she survive?”

“No mortal has crossed over and survived. Many have tried, but all have died. It’s too draining on their life force. She should have never survived, especially with the gates intact.” The female continued speaking with Killian, and I managed to open my eyes.

The room was a large medical unit with about eight or so beds. I was in the one closest to the door. The walls were rough stone, but cabinets of pills and tinctures lined the walls. A few lanterns made of metal and frosted glass placed about the room were the only source of light, yet it was enough. I looked down to see my clothes charred and my skin covered in black soot. The IV hooked up to one of my arms fed the cool liquid into my arm, and bandages covered my bare skin here and there.

The female voice argued louder with “Killian” and I stole a glance in their direction. Her fiery red hair hung just below her lab coat collar. She wore black leather pants, which seemed strange. A rocker doctor chick.

“Regardless,” the woman said. “You’re in charge of her till crossover. Figure out what to do with her in the meantime before she gets herself in trouble.” The redhead turned to a tall, trim guy with dark hair. “Nice job on the bandaging, Sean, let’s grab a drink, and I’ll go over venomous bites.” They stepped out of the room, leaving behind one tall, buff, and angry-looking guy. His arms were folded across his chest. His black shirt stretched tightly across a muscular chest, and his milky white skin was a stark contrast to his black tribal snake tattoo that coiled around his forearm. He pegged me with his blue-eyed stare. He had the non-verbal hatred cues down to a science.

“You’re awake. Finally.”

“What happened? And where am I?”

He stepped closer, and my heart rate accelerated. The stupid beeping machines broadcasted the increased cardiac rhythm, drawing Killian’s attention toward them. His mask of seriousness wavered for a moment, amused at his effect on me. Slipping it back into place, he turned toward me. “You’re on my turf so I ask the questions first.” He pulled up a stool. “Who are you?”

“Cassidy Kavanaugh.”

“More.” He looked at me impatiently, but I didn’t know what he meant. That was my name, there was nothing more to it. “What do you do?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I do’? I’m just an eighteen-year-old from Homer Glen, Illinois who’s had a crappy run at life lately. I don’t work, if that’s what you mean.”

Killian scratched his head in aggravation. I was clearly not giving him the answers he’d hoped for. “Okay, let’s try the more direct approach…How did you get through the gate?”

“Do you mean the chain blocking the spooky dirt path? I hopped it. But that shouldn’t surprise you. You could totally hop over that.”

He looked away and rubbed his hands down his face in frustration. “That’s not what I meant.” He looked angry, and I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong. “You shouldn’t have survived the crossover…you should be dead.”

But I wasn’t. In fact, besides feeling a tad battered, I actually felt fine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is this isn’t Blaylock Grove.”

This caught his attention. “What were you doing at the cemetery? It’s old and abandoned…no place for a young girl at night.”

“Young girl? Just how old do you think I am?” He didn’t look more than five years older than me at most.

“Just answer the question. What were you doing there?”

No, I didn’t want to answer him. He pissed me off. So I waited, and glared at him.

But he sat patiently. “Did you want this to take a long time?” His left eyebrow rose as he asked this.

No, I didn’t. And I knew there was no getting out of here without his help, wherever “here” was. He held all the cards, and I needed to answer him. “Jace.” My voice shook a little with emotion as I said his name. “I thought I saw Jace.” I looked away from Killian’s intense face and stared at the different colored tinctures. “And then I saw you…and…and…I don’t know how I got here.”

“Did you say ‘Jace’?” Killian asked.

I nodded.

He continued, “How do you know Jace?”

“He was my boyfriend…well, till he died.”

“So, you were what? Chasing after a ghost?” He chuckled, and it kinda pissed me off. Wouldn’t he do the same for someone he loved?

“Whatever, just point me to the exit.” I sat up and pulled the IV out of my arm. It hurt like hell, but I sucked it up, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that I was in pain. He looked surprised that I had the guts to do that, but he remained perched on his little stool, next to my bed, studying me. “Fine, you don’t want to tell me how to get out, I’ll figure it out myself.”

I hopped off the gurney and exited the stony medical unit, nearly colliding with a guy headed into the unit. He was much broader and heavier than Killian. “Sorry,” I muttered as I maneuvered around him.

The hallway outside of the room was also made of stone. What the hell? The people passing through the hall were dressed like Mr. Jerko, wearing black leather pants and form-fitting tees. I looked out of place here in my yoga pants and pullover. I went to the right, walking quickly past other rooms, some occupied, some not. Was this place underground? I hadn’t seen a window yet, so the possibility existed. After passing a dining hall, I ran out of hallway, so I turned around to backtrack. When I came upon the medical unit again, Killian stood in the doorway, arms still folded across his chest with a mocking smile on his face.

“Back so soon?”

“Shut up, biker dude.” I stormed past him and heard his laughter fade behind me. Room after room I passed until I ran out of hallway again. Where the hell was the exit? Maybe on the ceiling? I did remember a falling feeling. I circled back and proceeded down the curved hall while focusing on the ceiling.

“So ya’ think the exit’s on the ceiling?”

I stopped in my tracks and gave him my best death stare. “Suck it, Killian. I don’t need your help.”

The large guy I’d almost bumped into emerged behind Killian from the medical unit, chuckling. “She’s a wild one all right. Might actually give you a run for your money.” His voice was the same as the male from earlier…Jackson, I believe was his name.

Killian suppressed a smile and said, “Listen, Cassidy, my sister’s gonna kill me if you don’t finish that IV bag. I’ll make you a deal—you help me keep my sister happy and I’ll help you get out of this place.”

I looked to the ceiling one last time, but it was solid rock. “Fine.” What other choice did I have? I hopped onto the table and leaned back. Killian swabbed my arm and reinjected the IV.

“Son of a…” It hurt like hell as he jabbed it in. The man was not very gentle. “Are you qualified to put one of these in? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.”

“Sorry. Listen, about earlier…I’m sorry for how I acted. I really want to know how you ended up in the cemetery.”

“I already told you; I thought I saw Jace. Then this giant shadowy figure came sprinting across the clearing after Jace…and then they were gone.” Killian’s mouth twisted up on one side in a slight smile. “You were that shadowy figure, weren’t you?”

“It’s strange to hear how others perceive us. Yes, that was me.”

“Why were you chasing Jace?” I asked.

“Our Clan has been charged with the duty of keeping the demons on this side of the realm. Occasionally, they get through and it wreaks havoc on the mortals. But we do our best to bind them. Unfortunately, we lost our Necromancer a month ago. He went up against a demon that was too strong for him.” Killian looked away from me and cleared his throat.

“What happened to him?”

Killian took a moment before answering. “A demon named Rya caught him off guard, tore his heart out, and devoured his soul, powers included. She was a threat before, but now she has the upper hand.” Killian looked down at the ground, clearly lost in a thought. “It’s hard to lose someone who has fought beside you for so long. Then she took his powers, stealing a part of him that will forever be lost to the demonic side.” He stood and walked to where the tinctures adorned the wall. “Anyway, we’ve had to run extra patrols since then. Jace crossed over when he shouldn’t have, and I had been tracking him for a week. Tonight was the closest I’ve…”

“Wait! Are you trying to tell me Jace is a demon?” This man was crazy. Jace was no demon. He helped move trees, trim bushes…he loved me. He was no demon. Killian looked at me but said nothing. “You’re crazy. And you’re wrong. I’ve known him for years.”

Killian looked at me with sympathy and said, “He may have been nice when you knew him, but demons find their way into the weak-willed or exposed and consume their energy. Your boyfriend must have been suggestible and vulnerable—”

How dare he talk about Jace that way! “What—”

“Hold up, Cassidy, I’m just telling you the facts. Demons are looking for easy targets, and your boyfriend may have had a bad day. Sometimes that’s all it takes.”

“You expect me to believe that? Wouldn’t I have noticed?” His words swirled around my head along with the fact that I saw Jace in the cemetery tonight when he should be buried six feet under. Killian could be right, but my heart did not want to accept the information he presented. My heart wanted to shield my relationship from this upsetting news, to preserve the fun and loving Jace I remembered.

“No, it may not have been obvious. Were you always with him?”

“No, of course not. We mostly saw each other at school and a little on the weekends.”

“Did he look or seem tired lately?” Killian asked as he came over to sit on the stool again.

“Yeah, but we’re teenagers. Sometimes we stay up late watching TV or listening to music.” His interrogation was upsetting me. “Can you just stop now? I’m over you psychoanalyzing my boyfriend.”

“Just one more?” He held up his hands in surrender. “I promise I’ll stop after this one.”

“Fine,” I growled.

“Did he have any injuries lately? By injuries, I mean enough to require medical care.”

“Yes, he got a bad cut on his leg a few months before he died.”

Killian nodded his head, absorbing the information I offered him.

“But he was jumped! There’s an explanation for his injury.”

Killian rolled the stool toward a table along the wall. He grabbed a pen and paper and wrote down some notes. This felt like a dream, so unreal and improbable.

The redhead entered the room, walked over to me, and checked my IV bag. “Almost done. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” The word came out clipped.

“Funny, you don’t sound fine. Killian, what did you do to our patient?” Who was this girl rushing in to care for me? She had a beautiful and kind face. Her skin was milk white like Killian’s and smooth like a porcelain doll. She raised her arm to check my pupil response, and I couldn’t help noticing the black tribal tattoo on her forearm matched Killian’s.

“You always blame me,” Killian complained.

The girl looked at him knowingly before turning toward me. “You are going to be fine. I know it’s a lot to take in, but we’ll get you home soon.”

She turned back toward Killian and advised, “Get her something to eat, then you can cross her over.” She removed my IV and unhooked the almost empty bag connected to it.

“Thank you,” I said to her quietly. She acknowledged me with a smile and helped me stand. Killian stood in the doorway looking into the hall, waiting for me to join him. He wasn’t the most welcoming guy and seemed to want to be rid of me as soon as possible. I walked up beside him. “I’m here.”

He looked me up and down then turned to the redhead. “Thanks, sis.” Killian led the way to the dining hall I remembered passing earlier. It was a room double the size of the medical area.

Several of Killian’s Clan sat around tables chatting and sipping drinks. Their skin was as white as Killian’s. He motioned for me to take a seat while he walked around the displays of food in search of something in particular. He returned to the table and placed a bowl of trail mix and a mug of juice that smelled sweet like peaches in front of me.

“Are all of these people your relatives?”

“In a way, but only a handful are close relatives…like cousins and siblings. The rest are a bit further out on the family lineage but share a similar goal and chose to join us.”