The Demon Hunter (4 page)

Oliver caught a scent on the wind. He turned to Dean, who met his gaze with a knowing raise of the eyebrows.

They got as close as the shadows would let them, then ducked and rushed to the side of one of the police cars. Peering over its hood, the three could see into the penguin habitat, to the little rock island surrounded by a moat of water.

That was where the body was.

Emalie's breath caught in her throat. It lay on the very top of the island, sprawled face up, arms and legs dangling down. Penguins stood motionlessly about, some staring at the corpse like mourners, some at the activity around them, as if they were appalled by the humans' lack of respect.

Oliver sniffed at the air, and from the molecules of scent spreading on the breeze, he knew the death was recent.

“Looks like a boy,” whispered Dean. “A little older than us?”

Oliver nodded. “Lots of blood around his neck … And …” His nose reported another disturbing fact, and he turned to Dean again. “You smell that?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “An animal …”

“An animal did this?” Emalie asked incredulously.

“We are in a zoo,” said Oliver. “And …” He realized that he knew the scent from moments before: the jaguar.

“Heads up,” said Dean. “There's good ol' Detective Pederson.”

The detective was emerging from the doors to the reptile room, flanked by officers. He approached the penguin enclosure and was greeted by two women, one younger with a badge and gun on her belt, the other older and stocky. As the three converged, Oliver and Dean trained their sensitive ears, and Emalie reached out with her mind to listen.

“Hey, Sarah,” Pederson said to the other officer.

“Hey, Nick,” Sarah replied. “This is Marion Burke, the zoo director.”

“Are you in charge?” Marion asked worriedly.

Nick glanced at Sarah before he replied. “For the moment, but—”

“Okay, you've
got
to get your people back to this location and let my staff lead the search. Sasha is not going to be easy to find and care needs to be taken—”

“Sasha is the least of my concerns,” muttered Nick ominously.

“Nick—” Sarah interrupted.

Nick frowned. “All right.” He pulled out his radio. “I need all units back at the penguin enclosure immediately.” He turned to Marion. “You have your team meet me over by that squad car in two minutes.”

“Okay.” Marion turned and flipped open her phone.

Nick strode ahead, Sarah falling into step beside him.

“That's the guy who was working with the Brotherhood in the winter?” Emalie whispered.

“The one and only,” said Dean.

Detective Pederson reached the penguin enclosure and gazed in at the body. Oliver listened intently as Sarah leaned in.

“Care to tell me how you happened to get here so quickly?” she asked seriously.

“It's better if you don't know,” Nick replied grimly.

“But what if I can guess, Nick? This is about your vampires, isn't it? So what am I going to tell the lieutenant when he arrives?”

Nick glanced at her, looking hurt. “
My
vampires?” He shook his head. “Look, I don't know, tell him I was just driving by.”

“Oh come on,” Sarah said. “If I have to cover for you again, then you could at least tell me what we're dealing with.”

“I'm not sure yet, but it's not your average animal attack.”

“You don't think the jaguar did this?” Sarah asked.

“Not
just
the jaguar.”

“Detective!”

Nick and Sarah both glanced back to see the TV reporter striding toward them, microphone held out eagerly, her hair blond and perfect. Oliver recognized her. She was actually a vampire named Karma Kayne.

“Great,” Nick grumbled.

There was a commotion beyond the cars, and Oliver saw a team arriving with tranquilizer rifles.

More sirens echoed in the distance.

Dean nudged Oliver. “We should get out of here before we get caught, or shot.”

They ducked back to the shadowed safety of the nearest path.

“What was all that about vampires?” Dean asked.

“The detective thinks the jaguar was Occupied when it killed that kid,” Oliver explained.

“Why would a vampire kill a human like that?” Emalie wondered aloud.

Oliver shrugged. “Well, it's not considered the worst thing to kill humans,” he said. “But it is frowned upon, especially doing it in such a public way. It calls too much attention to the vampires.”

“What happens to a vampire who does something like this?” asked Emalie.

“I don't know. They'd maybe get fixed with a binding enchantment, like house arrest, for a couple years, or something.”

“That's it?” Emalie exclaimed. “For killing someone?”

“Well, yeah. That's just how vampires see things,” Oliver replied defensively. “It's not like
I'd
be out there killing humans.”

“I know,” Emalie said.

“But there's a bigger problem,” said Oliver. “I saw Bane earlier tonight, and he was Occupying the jaguar.”

“Whoa,” said Dean. “You think Bane did this?”

“I don't know. No, but … maybe? He was in a pretty bad mood last time I saw him. Not to mention all summer.” Oliver actually felt a sliver of worry for Bane. He was already in enough trouble. He wouldn't go and do this, would he? Then again, who could ever tell what was going on in Bane's head? Still, it seemed irresponsible, even for him. And there had been a lot of vampires in the zoo tonight. It could've easily been someone else. “He might have just been stupid and forgot to close the cage, or left the jaguar out somewhere. And there's no way the detective could know for sure that the jaguar was even Occupied. He'd have to test the blood for force signatures. And there's no way he knows how to do that.”

“Unless he does,” said Emalie. “He seems to know a lot about vampires.”

Dean started up the path. “We should leave from the north entrance, away from those hunters.”

“Nnn …”

Dean and Oliver turned to find Emalie standing stiffly, her eyes shut tight, wincing. “What?” Oliver asked.

“His name was Dante …” said Emalie, her voice shaking. “Band … he was in the band … drums … snuck into the zoo with his friends, stopped to tie his shoe …” Her voice was hitched with fear. “Orange eyes. It dragged him, scraping on the ground, then … His mom didn't know he was here.” Emalie's last words dissolved into a long exhale. Her eyes opened. She looked at her hands. “White now, quiet.” She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself.

Oliver had seen this happen to Emalie before, back in Italy when she'd connected with the spirit of a murdered security guard. A person's spirit apparently stayed around its fallen body for a little while, before slowly drifting off and finding a gateway out of the world.

Oliver wondered about the apparition he'd seen earlier. Had it been someone's spirit? Maybe those two ideas were connected somehow.

Emalie let out a quavering sigh. “I'm fine,” she said, and caught up with Oliver and Dean. The three headed up the path toward the exit.

Oliver glanced at Emalie. She looked pale, shaken. He reached over and attempted to rub her shoulder supportively, except that his body immediately tensed with nerves, and he was overrun with ridiculous thoughts:
Don't rub too hard! Or too long! Wait, on the shoulder or arm? Yes, shoulder! No, on her back! No not the back! Wait but—

He ended up patting her shoulder twice and then retrieving his hand. She looked over and almost smiled.

“That kill was consistent with what jaguars do,” Dean said randomly. “Bite to the neck, dragging the kill to a high, secluded spot to eat later …” He looked up and found both Oliver and Emalie staring at him. “What?” he said. “I like that predator/prey stuff.”

They were winding through a heavily wooded section of the path when Oliver paused. “Wait,” he whispered. Emalie and Dean stopped.

Oliver sniffed the air and found the faintest trace of that noxious smell: Bane's coyote musk and aniseed cologne. He listened carefully, but there was only the rustling of trees in the breeze. Besides, the scent was very faint.

He glanced around to be sure—and spied something on the ground. On the edge of the path, among the leaves and dirt at the base of the bushes, was a small object: a pendant on a leather strap. One end of the leather had a little hook. The other end was missing, only frayed leather remaining, as if it had been torn free.

Oliver picked up the necklace. It reeked of Bane's cologne.

“What is that?” Emalie asked.

“Weird. I think it's Bane's,” said Oliver. “Maybe it fell off when he was playing jaguar.”

Oliver studied the pendant. It was a square of magnetite, with a Skrit symbol carved in the middle and painted white:

Oliver didn't recognize it. “Knowing Bane, it's probably some gross love charm or something.”

“Or maybe it has something to do with whatever Bane's been up to,” Emalie suggested. “You know, with Selene and your prophecy.”

“Could be.” Oliver dropped the necklace in his pocket. “Maybe it can explain some things, since he never does.”

“You can use it to blackmail him, if nothing else,” Dean suggested with a cautious grin.

“Mmm,” Oliver agreed.

They walked on, reaching the entrance gate. Oliver and Dean each took Emalie by an arm, and they vaulted over it as a trio. They crossed a parking lot and entered a small park.

“What were we meeting up for tonight?” Oliver asked blankly.

“Oh yeah,” said Dean, stopping in the sandy playground area. “Duh, we were going to hit another graveyard. Emalie updated the map.”

“Right.” Emalie reached into her shoulder bag and produced a beat-up city map. They'd been using it to keep track of their progress searching graveyards for Oliver's human parents. Howard and Lindsey Bailey had been killed on the same night that Oliver had been sired. Oliver had been an infant at the time, in the year 1946. Emalie had found an obituary for the Baileys, but it didn't say where they'd been buried.

Then there was the troubling fact that Braiden Lang had told Oliver that his human parents were really alive. There was no proof of that either, but Oliver wanted it to be true. Over the summer, the three had searched online in local records, and then across the country, for a living Howard and Lindsey Bailey who were the right age—Oliver figured they'd be at least eighty—but they weren't out there, at least not under that name.

Not knowing what else to do, they'd started searching the graveyards in town. This search was as much
not
to find them as to find them. If they weren't buried anywhere, that helped somewhat to prove that they were alive. Of course, there was the possibility that the Baileys weren't even buried in Seattle. They could be anywhere. Oliver knew the whole thing was a long shot, yet it was all he could do, and he felt he had to do something.

“Okay, here …” Emalie was just unfolding the map when her eyes rolled up in her head, eyelids fluttering. Her knees buckled and she slumped, falling backward. Oliver and Dean reached for her, but too late. Her shoulder slapped a swing as she toppled to the sand.

Oliver and Dean were beside her in a moment. Her eyes had closed. “Emalie,” said Oliver. “Hey, Emalie!”

“Nnn …” She winced, then her eyes slowly creaked open. “What happened?”

“Don't know,” said Dean. “You just checked out.”

Emalie pushed up onto her elbows. “Oh … Probably just from the spirit encounter back there. Sometimes it's a little intense.”

“This has happened to you before?” Oliver asked, hating how he sounded like a concerned parent, but feeling that way.

“Maybe, yeah,” Emalie said. “Once or twice. I'll be fine. Just gotta get a Slurpee or something.”

“You should rest,” insisted Dean. “No grave searching tonight.”

Emalie started to stand. “Nah, I'm good, I—”

She collapsed again, only this time Oliver and Dean caught her.

“Dean's right,” said Oliver as they hoisted her to her feet. “Home. You're the only living person here, and we're keeping it that way.”

“Come on, you guys. It's not that bad,” said Emalie, but she didn't sound convinced.

“We can look again next weekend,” said Oliver, trying not to sound as worried as he was. It was very rare for a human to interact with spirits of the dead like Emalie could. Even powerful Orani were only known for their ability to read the minds of the living.

Once Emalie was back in her room, Oliver and Dean skulked around town for a while, trying to enjoy this last night of freedom, but they found themselves strangely quiet.

“Not a bad summer,” Dean said at one point. “There were those charion rides …” When Oliver didn't chip in with his own summer recap, Dean went on. “And that night when Ty let us help out in the ice cream truck.”