Walking Shadow (The Darkworld Series Book 2) (5 page)

I have to tell him I’m not interested.

I groaned. Like that mattered. A vampire had attacked me, for crying out loud.

I took a long shower, since sleep was impossible. Adrenaline still fizzed through my veins from the fight, and my body temperature felt out of control, going from boiling to freezing more rapidly than the shower did. Ordinarily I could only feel temperature in the extremes; even the coldest night didn’t bother me. But the Darkworld brought a chill of its own, the kind that penetrated to the bone, and always awoke when I used magic.

My magic was different to any of the others’. I couldn’t summon fire, which was easy for most sorcerers, but I could freeze things. And, in defence against demons, I could fight them with ice that burned like fire. None of the others had a clue why I was different, and I feigned ignorance, too. I knew my magic wasn’t the same as the others’ because I was part demon, and demons were creatures that thrived in the dark and cold.

The demons had tried to get me to join them once before, and I’d resisted. Every time I left Blackstone, they were waiting for me, whispering promises in my ears, bowing their heads to accept my authority over them. Like I’d join them after seeing what dealing with demons had done to Terrence, my former flatmate.

I still revisited that night in the Lakes in my dreams. Terrence had been a covert sorcerer tempted by demonic magic, and he’d finally summoned one in an attempt to coerce me into surrendering my demon heart to him. But he hadn’t known―and neither had I―that I couldn’t be possessed. I couldn’t even imagine what that must feel like. That was the demons’ ultimate weapon, the ability to pierce your mind from within and take over. The demon could choose whether to take control of their victim’s magic, leaving the sorcerer conscious whilst it wreaked havoc using his or her body, or simply to kill them. Either way, no one survived very long after letting a demon in. Terrence hadn’t.

I might have killed the demon, but I knew it wasn’t over. The demons were cunning, cruel and merciless, and it chilled me to the very soul that I had any kind of connection to them.

I stepped out of my en-suite bathroom and changed into my warmest pyjamas. I might not be able to feel the frigid air seeping in through the gap beside the window the way normal people could, but I could still catch a cold. I examined the ring of teeth marks on my arm. They weren’t bleeding, but still stung. I made a mental note to wear long sleeves for a while. At least the other scars―from a harpy’s talons―were invisible to most people’s eyes.

I shook the tangles out of my dark hair whilst flicking absently through my required seminar reading. Work had piled up now term had started properly. I’d come back to Blackstone a week early, since Cara had gone back to Edinburgh that week. I’d missed campus, and most of all I’d missed going out without running into demons everywhere. Every time I saw one, I thought of Terrence’s face contorting, and his body dropping to the ground like a stone. Nothing should be allowed to have that kind of power.

At home, my parents didn’t take much notice of me either; both were working most days – Dad was an electrician, Mum worked part-time in a shop -, and our Christmas had been a quiet one. I’d pretty much had free reign to do whatever I wanted, which, ironically, made it less likely that I’d do anything adventurous. At university, there was always something happening, and it had been weird suddenly having nothing to do but play video games and read. Of course, I didn’t miss people trying to kill me, but home didn’t feel the same anymore, and not just because I was away from the shields which kept me from seeing demons in Blackstone. Cara and I had enjoyed shopping in the January sales, but other than that, I’d looked forwards to coming back to campus.

Outside, the sky began to lighten. Once again, I was already awake to see the dawn. I always seemed to get into the habit of sleeping at odd hours during term, especially when Claudia and the others dragged me on night-time excursions. Not that I’d been back to the library since the harpies attacked us last time. Howard had taken enough books to occupy us for a good while, and the Venantium didn’t seem to have noticed their absence.

This included the one on my desk,
The Seven Princes of the Darkworld.
That book had been my saving grace when I’d been paranoid that my part-demon state meant I had other demonic traits, such as immortality. Unlike Sarah, who was a
Twilight
fanatic, I imagined it would get boring after a few centuries or so. Thankfully, though, immortality was reserved for spirits alone.

The higher demons, one of whom was supposedly my ancestor, were the only demons able to take on human form completely, mainly for the purpose of seducing humans and leaving their traits in the genetic line. I couldn’t completely work my way around the old-fashioned language of the book, but I gathered that their aim in doing this was to create a generation of super-humans in order to overthrow the Barrier. They’d almost succeeded once, apparently, back in the fifteenth century, but the human-demons had not proven immune to ordinary causes of death and were particularly vulnerable to burns. In the ensuing battle it had been the pure demons who’d put up the strongest front, which may have been one of the reasons why human-demons were all but forgotten these days. Except for me.

Like pretty much all teenage girls, I’d been convinced I was an anomaly, but it wasn’t until I’d started seeing demons that I’d genuinely begun to worry that I was abnormal enough to need professional help. Now I was glad I’d held off. They’d have put me in a mental home if I’d told them I could see demons―never mind that I
was
one.

The sun crept over the treetops as I watched, sitting in the windowsill with my feet tucked in. Frost covered the tree branches, glittering in the rising sun. The moon still floated in the sky, though it looked faded and washed-out. A robin sang outside my window. Its feathers were fluffed up against the cold.

“Dan-ielle,” sang a mournful voice. I jumped. That definitely wasn’t a robin. “Dan-ielle!”

There came the long, drawn-out twang of someone inexpertly plucking a guitar string, and my flatmate Pete staggered into view. Dishevelled and totally mortal-drunk, he fell to his knees in the middle of the field and howled to the sky.

“Shut the hell up, you loser!” someone yelled from an upstairs window.

Pete didn’t move. Totally besotted with a second-year student, Danielle, even after four months of continuous rejection, he constantly did everything he could to get her attention. Penniless as a result of splurging on alcohol in the first few weeks of last term, it was left to Alex, Sarah, and me to make sure he didn’t starve for the rest of the year by letting him “borrow” cash to buy food.

My phone buzzed. I picked it up, hoping fervently that Conrad hadn’t somehow gotten hold of my number. But it was from an unknown sender.

The message said, “A shadow has your face.”

I stared at the words.
A shadow has your face?
What could that possibly mean? I scanned over my recent messages, but couldn’t find any from the same number. Was it a prank?

I sighed. Yeah. Weird shit had started happening again.

Sarah and Alex were in the kitchen when I went in to get breakfast, both looking sleepy. I felt surprisingly alert considering I’d been awake all night. I wondered if Leo would come to the lecture. I hoped to see him, for reassurance that he was okay and that nothing else had happened.

His guardian was a vampire. It sounded even more absurd now. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d have dismissed last night’s events as lunacy.

“Looking forwards to another joyous lecture on Wordsworth?” said Alex.

“Can’t wait,” I said, putting bread in the toaster.

“Late night, was it? I didn’t hear you come in.” Alex skimmed through her anthology, trying for a last-minute bit of preparation.

“Um.” What had I said I was doing? At a GameSoc social, probably. “Yeah, pretty late.”

Maybe I should have gone to bed.
I was used to concocting alibis, but this just got confusing.

“I haven’t read the
Prelude
,” said Sarah. “Have you, Ash?”

“Some of it,” I said.

“That’s not like you,” said Alex, scrutinising me. “Whatever happened to Ash the workaholic?”

“Wordsworth’s not depressing enough,” I said, munching toast. “Too many daffodils, not enough fire and brimstone.”

“Well, we’re done with
Paradise Lost
now, you crazy person. Ugh, I give up with this.” She shut the anthology with a snap. “Also, we’re going to be late if we don’t get a move on.”

“Fair point,” I said, grabbing my last piece of toast and putting my plate in the sink.

I snatched up my bag and followed Alex and Sarah out of the flat, trying to pull my mind away from vampires and murders and graveyards.

Unfortunately, I didn’t bargain on Conrad waiting for me outside the building.

Great.

“Hi, Ash!” He smiled at me. I caught a whiff of aftershave and almost gagged. It smelt like manure. Had he doused his whole head in it?

“Hi,” I said, whilst Alex and Sarah sniggered behind me. Ignoring them, I began to walk through the student village. Conrad hurried to keep up.

“How’re you doing?”

“I’m going to a lecture,” I said. I wasn’t exactly in a conversational mood.

“Me too. I’m on your course, remember?”

My lack of enthusiasm didn’t deter him from trailing me all the way to the lecture theatre, and by the time I took my seat, trying to ignore my friends’ incessant giggling, I was in a thoroughly bad mood. Leo wasn’t there, either, but since he had a habit of skiving early morning lectures, this wasn’t unusual.

One snore-fest later, I joined Alex and Sarah for some studying in the library. Our workloads had begun to pile up again, and our first-year exams seemed much closer from this side of Christmas. To my relief, Conrad had another seminar now, so he couldn’t tail me to the library. Since we had another essay due in a couple of weeks, I wanted to stay ahead of the game.

“Ash, you’re like an essay-writing machine,” said Alex, reaching to pull my hand away from the page so she could read what I’d written. “You do know first year doesn’t actually count towards our final grade, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to fail,” I said.

Alex rolled her eyes. “You, fail? Didn’t you get that scholarship for being a genius?”

“For my A-Level grades,” I muttered, flushing. That was true. I’d almost forgotten about it. The extra money had been a welcome addition to my meagre student loan.

“Maybe that’s why all these guys are after you. They think you’ll do their references for them.”

I snorted. “Yeah, that’s totally what’s on most guys’ minds.”

“Well, either that or they’re enraptured by your feminine charm,” said Alex.

“You’ve been reading too much love poetry,” I said. “In case you’ve forgotten, when Conrad and I met, I was dressed as Percy Shelley.”

“He wrote love poetry, didn’t he?”

“Er… no. Have you done
any
of this term’s reading?”

“Who are you, the new professor?” said Alex, but her tone was light. “To be honest, I’d come to one of your lectures. Be a lot more helpful than that waste of an hour.”

“Me? Public speaking?” I mock-shuddered. “No way in hell.”

Alex laughed, nudging Sarah. “Come on, Ash should totally take over our English lectures, right?”

Sarah gave a faint smile.

“What’s up?” said Alex.

“Nothing.” Sarah stowed her phone in her bag. I’d seen her texting someone.

“Nothing’s nothing,” said Alex, with her typical Alex logic.

“Does that even make sense?” said Sarah.

“Who cares? Who were you texting?”

“Liam. Does it matter?”

Sarah was usually soft-spoken, so this outburst took me by surprise. Liam was her boyfriend―he studied at university in London, hours away. Sarah and he had been in a long-distance relationship since summer, but if I was honest, I’d forgotten she even
had
a boyfriend.

“Okay, that’s definitely not nothing,” said Alex. “Spill it. Do I need to drop-kick anyone?”

Alex had the same philosophy as my oldest friend Cara when it came to guy trouble―she’d once remarked that a kick to the bollocks worked better than talking things over. No wonder Rex hadn’t made a move on her yet.

“No!” said Sarah. “It’s really nothing. He’s just being… I mean, I don’t think he’s coming to visit next weekend.”

It had slipped my mind, but I remembered her being really excited. They hadn’t seen much of each other over the holidays due to his visiting family in the south.

“That’s not cool,” said Alex. “Did he say why?”

“Some football game.”

“He plays?”

“Sometimes. Like I said, it’s cool.”

“Uh, no, it isn’t. Tell the dickweasel that you have to come first. How long have you guys been together anyway?”

Funny, neither of us had asked that before, even though we’d lived together for the best part of the past four months. I guessed it was because of the way university worked―several random people were thrown together, and in the rush to adjust to spending every day with each other, basic questions were often got forgotten.