First hunter, p.4
First Hunter, page 4
His words and tone are laced with subtext that make parts of my body flush with heat, but I ignore those feelings and straighten my back, trying to match him in height, mostly succeeding. “Who’s the White Rider wannabe?”
His voice is low. “The less you know, the better, trust me.”
“Protecting a fellow criminal?”
He eyes me up and down. “Protecting someone.”
Callie steps between us, and it’s only then I realize how close Elias and I are, our lips almost touching. “We need to go,” says the succubus. “The party’s about to start.”
Elias grins. “Am I invited?”
I scoff and brush past him, taking off my necklace, a black iron key, and walk toward the front door. “Once we’re at the Lotus, behave, or I’ll knock you out again.”
“Sounds fun.” His smirk turns to a frown. “But I thought there was no violence allowed at the hotel?”
“The rules don’t apply to criminals who try to flee.”
“What if it’s less trying… and more succeeding?”
I shake my head, standing at the cabin door with my necklace, a childhood keepsake Sly enchanted with whatever magicks he keeps hidden. I put it into the lock, any lock will work. And turn. When I open the door, the way doesn't lead to the valley, but instead into a lavish hotel. The Black Lotus.
Now…
I know you’ve heard about this next part. Read about it, at least. The incident, as most like to call it. You’re wondering, were Iris and Elias both in on it? Did they work together? That is, after all, why you’re reading this, right? To find out. I can assure you, it’s much more complicated than that.
5
THE BLACK LOTUS
I walk in like a boss.
The hottest succubus in the world to my left. The Prince of Darkness to my right. If I could move in slow motion right now, I would. Let’s just pretend I am.
Now let me set the scene…
The halls are pretty empty right now, no doubt because of the party, so that leaves us three alone for the moment. A red carpet unfurls beneath us, like movie star style except more grand. Everything else—walls, ceiling, floor—is pure white marble carved in ancient Greece during the reign of Alexander the Great himself. (Totally legit story, by the way.) Up above, dazzling crystal chandeliers cover everything in a warm golden hue like sweet, sweet honey, and red doors line the hallways, hiding lavish rooms home to all manner of monsters.
Temporary homes for most, of course, since the Black Lotus is, in the end, a hotel. A safe haven for those who don’t belong elsewhere. Perhaps that is why I was left here as a baby.
Alone.
Abandoned.
:(
Ah, it wasn’t that bad. I grew up in a freakin’ paranormal hotel, after all, learning from all sorts of guests and wanderers. All under the careful eye of Uncle Sly. And now I return home triumphant. And look, a group has already gathered down the hall, waiting for the grand golden doors to open and the masquerade ball to commence. When they see me, their eyes light up and—
“Elias! O.M.G. it’s him. I can’t believe it’s him.” She actually says O.M.G. As in the letters.
They almost trample each other to reach the prince. They even ignore Callie—which is really saying something.
“Will you sign my invitation?”
“Sign my arm.”
“Sign my boobs!” says a young Fae woman with pointed ears decorated with green emerald earrings to match her dress. And yes, in case you were wondering, she actually does pull said dress open to give my mark access to… well, everything.
Elias chuckles warmly. “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t fret, there’s enough Elias to go around.” He glances at me. “Iris, do you have a pen?”
I grab him by the ear and pull him past the crowd.
“Now, now, that’s not necessary, love,” Elias say, wincing. “I haven’t—"
A shriek.
Behind us.
I turn and see the young Fae woman who bared her chest to him a moment ago rush towards us, dagger in hand. “Elias, I will save you!” she yells. "Then we can be together forever."
Elias raises an eyebrow. I just sigh. The cray-cray is in full force today.
I'm about to try and talk her down when she focuses her attention on me. "And you. You hussy. You will never have him. I will gut you and feed you to dogs before I let you lay another finger on what is mine."
She raises her dagger and…
Snap.
Her knees collapse, and she falls to the red carpet, dropping the dagger, limbs twisting at odd angles. “No, please. Please,” she pleads.
Snap.
Her voice goes quiet. Her mouth moves but she makes no sounds.
Snap.
She freezes. Still as a mangled statue.
Sly walks out from around the corner, his fingers held up, ready to snap once more. “Seems someone forgot the rules,” he says, towering over the Fae woman in his perfect black tux. “No violence at the Black Lotus. And against my niece, no less. Tsk, tsk." He glances at me to make sure I'm okay before returning his attention to the Fae.
Her eyes are red, begging for mercy.
Sly tilts his head, frowning compassionately. “Now, since all harm was prevented, I suppose I can be lenient. Perhaps ten years in the dungeon shall do.” He snaps his fingers once more, and two people emerge from the crowd, dressed as fancy as everyone else but completely in black. I recognize their faces. Bobby and Poppy. Two of the best Fixers at the hotel. They grab the Fae woman by her arms and carry her down the hall, disappearing past the corner. Sly turns back to the guests. “Sorry about that, everyone. How about a free round of drinks at the bar, huh?”
They cheer in response as they shuffle down the hallway for free alcohol. I’m glad no one’s flashing Elias anymore, or trying to kill me, at least for now.
Sly turns to us both, eyeing my silver dress. “Taking your time getting this one to the dungeons, I see.”
“On my way there right now,” I say plainly.
“Good. We don’t want another incident like that.” He motions to the mess on the carpet, which is already being cleaned by staff, then adjusts his black tie. “I must open the doors. Get the prince to the warden and get back here before Thalius arrives.”
“Wait. Thalius will be here?”
Sly smiles deviously. “Of course.”
My jaw drops. I put it back in place.
Elias frowns but says nothing. Who cares? My mind is still on Thalius, the greatest keeper ever and…
Now I know what you’re thinking. Iris, this isn’t like you, losing it over a man. And you’re right. It’s not. But trust me, little bird, when you meet Thalius, you will understand!
Sly offers his arm to Callie. “Now dear, would you do me the honor of joining me to greet the guests?”
“Of course.” The succubus blows me a kiss as she accompanies Uncle Sly toward the golden doors.
I yank Elias by his shackles. “Follow me.”
He does, quieter than he’s been all night.
We pass a few guests, all fans of Elias apparently, yadda yadda yadda, ah, and we’re here, the dungeons.
I do my best impression of a game show model, holding my arms outstretched toward the dark, damp cells. “Welcome to your new home, vampire.”
“Shade, technically.”
“Whatever.”
He sighs. “I’m half Fae, half vampire. That means I’m a Shade.”
“Right, think I read about that…” I say, not trying to hide my sarcasm at all. Who does he think I am? A paranormal newbie?
He shakes his head. “You don’t get it. My people used to be discriminated against, torn between two worlds, belonging nowhere. What were we but Shades of ourselves?” He pauses. “Even now, though laws protect us, few deem to follow them.”
I yank his shackles again, leading him down a set of stone stairs, deeper into the dungeon. Blazing torches lining the stained walls light our way. “Boo hoo, your dark past made you a criminal, right? Don’t think I haven’t heard that story.”
He stops, standing straight, eyes fierce. “I alone am responsible for my actions. I control my fate.”
Huh. Haven’t heard that one before. Not exactly anyway.
We continue our walk in silence, torches casting sinister shadows on the walls. Cries and whimpers ring out from the barred cells. Withered arms occasionally reach out and try to grab at my dress, but I know the proper distance to keep. We pass by Fae, vampire, demon, crone and more. Even the young woman arrested moments ago upstairs. Race doesn’t matter, only the crime, and as we make our way further underground, the bars become replaced by solid doors made of trimantium. Here, the most dangerous of criminals are kept, most locked away forever.
I take a quick detour to a more secret part of the dungeon, and something catches Elias’s eye. A glowing light to the side, like moonbeams piercing the darkness.
“It can’t be…” he whispers, leaving my side, following his gaze to a pedestal standing between two cells. A beam of bright light shines there, and within floats a silver sword.
“The Moonlight Sword,” he says softly. “It was here all along. You never told me…”
I grin. “It was fun watching you try.”
“But how? How is it here?”
I cross my arms, standing beside him. “Your father never lost the sword, Elias. He gave it to Sly for safekeeping, because he believed a weapon as powerful as the Moonlight Sword should be in no one’s hands, not even a king’s.”
“Secrets upon secrets,” murmurs Elias. “My family seems to never run out.” He can’t take his eyes away from the sword. He raises his hand towards the light. His fingers touch the beam.
He pulls away, hissing, his hand red and blistered.
“The beam will burn anything,” I say. “Even Trimantium. Only the Moonlight Sword is, as you said, indestructible.”
Elias flexes his hand, which is already healing. “You could have warned me.”
I shrug. “You could have turned yourself in.”
“Fair enough.” He glances longingly at the sword one last time, before we continue walking deeper into the dungeon, his pale, shirtless body glistening in the torchlight. “Why keep the sword surrounded by criminals, though? Cocky much?”
“Sly says it’s the safest place in the hotel,” I explain. “Even if a criminal were to get their hands on it, which they wouldn’t, they would never make it out of the dungeon. Not with the Warden, Fixers, and Sly himself keeping watch. Plus the magical reinforcement.”
Elias nods. “That Sly does seem tricky. What is he anyway, a level ten demon?”
“No one knows,” I say.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. He’s more ancient than anyone, and he never talks about his past. Trust me, I would know. Doing a school report on my family was a nightmare.”
Elias chuckles. “Got it. No one messes with Sly. Must be why this place is so safe.”
No one messes with Sly…
Wait a second.
Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
Could the White Rider wannabe have sensed Sly approaching? Is that why he left? But that would require some kind of premonition, fortune-telling crap, since my uncle appeared from thin air, and no one has those skills. Well, almost no one.
You and I are probably overthinking things.
Let’s get back to the conversation. “Anyway, this section is only for criminals already sentenced to eternity. Those who will never leave. Here the sword is kept secret from the world, just as your father wanted.”
Elias scans the dark walls, the damp stairs, the solid doors. “So no one’s ever escaped before?”
“Never,” I say proudly.
“Good. I like a challenge.”
Of course he’d say that.
We stop at a dead end. As deep as deep can go. The bottom of the dungeon. Elias’s cell. Nothing but the best for the number one most wanted criminal in the nine worlds.
He looks at the door before us and at the small room within. “Is that it?” he asks. “That’s supposed to trap me?”
“That…” I nod. “And him.”
A massive form emerges from the cell, a beast twice my height, black horns sprouting from his bald head, muscles bulging from under withered robes that kinda look like human skin. I've never asked. I don't recommend you ask either. Undone shackles hang on his wrists, and chains dangle from his belt, clattering against the stone floors. The Warden smiles. His teeth are sharp as daggers.
“Yeah, that might do it,” says Elias quickly, his face a whole new level of pale.
I smile, gently pushing him forward and into his new quarters.
“You finally caught him,” says the Warden, voice low and primal. “I always you knew you would, Iris.”
I pat him on the arm. “Thanks Big W.”
“No. Thank you, Iris,” says the demon, eyeing Elias like a piece of prime rib. “I have waited years for this day. Oh how long have I spent devising the methods of torture to use upon this one.”
“Cool, but no torture yet, remember? He has to go before the council first.”
The Warden gestures dismissively. “Minor details. Soon I will test the spleen stretcher.”
“Sounds painful.”
He beams. “Thank you.”
Elias and I step into the cell, facing each other. I pull out the key for his shackles. For a moment, I am still, just standing there, taking it all in. “I guess… this is the end,” I say.
He places his hand under my chin. “We had a good run, Iris. No regrets.”
I nod, and slowly undo his shackles.
He massages his wrists, smiling.
For some reason, I smile back, but there's a bittersweet edge to it as I turn and leave, closing the door behind me. The Warden shuts it with a giant key. And then…
It is done.
My greatest challenge is over.
Elias Vane Spero has been caught.
Now a new enemy awaits.
But for a moment I feel… hollow. Empty. I wasn't expecting this.
I start to make my way back up, content to explore my complicated emotions at a later time, but Elias's voice stops me.
“Don’t…" He steps forward, putting his face against the open grate in his door, barely big enough for his head. “Don’t go after the White Rider.”
“If he is a danger, I must.”
“No.” His eyes are dark and piercing and cold. “There are things you don’t understand about the Council of Hunters.”
I rush back down, placing myself against the door, my eyes inches from his, our breath melding together. We are so close, our bodies only separated by a sheet of metal.
“Then tell me,” I whisper. “Tell me what I don’t understand.”
“Lix Tetrax,” he murmurs, before raising his voice a fraction. “Not everyone on the council will wish for you to succeed,” he says. “Some of them will wish you dead.”
The heat of the torch licks my skin. “Who?”
He says nothing.
I slam the door. “Who!”
He does not speak for a while, and when he does his voice is barely audible. “I do hope we see each other again, Iris.” He steps back, disappearing into the shadows, as if the cell has already swallowed him up.
I slam the grate closed. “You were always a liar.” And talking to him was always a waste of time. I turn and run upstairs. But no matter how fast I run, his words follow.
The party, it seems, is about to start. I find Sly near the golden door, chatting with a pair of ladies, laughing and sipping on a purple drink.
“Lix Tetrax?”
He raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“Lix Tetrax?” I ask, breathless. “What is it?”
Sly clears his throat, eyes shifting in concern, as if he’s looking for someone. Then his smile returns and he clutches my shoulder. “Never heard of it, darling. Why?”
Oh Uncle…
Why are you lying?
6
THALIUS
My uncle, devious traitor that he is, escorts me into the ballroom, and for a moment all my worries fall away. The hall is magnificent, with murals of perfect athletes dancing on the ceiling, and white swans that swim in a pond black as night. The decorations are perfect, the staff more so. Employees of the hotel, all dressed in black, of course, seem to float through the space, some carrying purple drinks lit with a white fire that dances atop the crystal goblets and delicious smelling hors d’oeuvres, others performing feats of acrobatics, swinging from rope up above, flipping through the air, while those down below breathe fire and dance in devilish masks. It's a feast for the senses. A spectacle to never forget.
I have been to such gatherings before when I was a child. Though lately, I’ve been too busy with hunting, and I wonder if my memory is simply hazy or if things are more impressive than ever. Uncle Sly does like to keep things interesting.
He waves a hand over his face and his features change. Black hair turns red in an instant. Pale skin turns freckled. Just simple illusion magic. Nothing I can’t see through.
“Hiding from someone?” I ask suspiciously.
He grins. “Just going incognito. Easier to have fun that way.” He waves a hand at me. “Want a touch up, love?”
“No,” I say plainly. I enjoyed wearing magic like makeup as a teen, but lately I prefer truth to lies. Hunting criminals will do that, I suppose. If only my uncle felt the same…
I scan the crowd and notice he’s not the only one to use a bit of illusion. It’s quite common for those with the gift to cover up blemishes or scars, or to hire others to do it for them. Changing your appearance entirely, however, is highly illegal in all but the most necessary cases. But this is Sly, of course, and in the Black Lotus, Sly does what he wants.
His guests, hundreds of them, are dressed in the latest fashions of their kind, marveling at the splendor, often clapping and laughing. Some have outrageous hairstyles that defy gravity and nature, others have no hair at all. Some are covered in jewelry, others wear nearly nothing. But they all hide behind masks, thriving in ambiguity, whispering of the day’s gossip.
