The Demon Hunter (9 page)

Emalie's face fell. “Fine.”

“No, I don't mean, it's just—” Oliver felt like he was falling down a staircase. Each possible thing he could say was like a hard marble step slapping against his shins, his stomach, his head. Why couldn't he just—
talk
!

“Everything okay?” Dean asked, glancing from one to the other.

“Fine,” Emalie muttered.

The bus crossed a high bridge over a ship canal. Below, long docks jutted out into the water, lined with floating homes. Their lights twinkled on the water. To the right, the gasworks loomed over Lake Union. The buildings of downtown blinked in the misty dark.

The bus veered off an exit ramp and slowed, continuing on a road that paralleled the highway as it ran alongside Capitol Hill. Steep layers of apartments and houses rose above the far side of the freeway. On the other side, similar layers of homes dropped down to the lake. The highway rose slightly beside them, and now the dark underbelly of the overpass was visible. Oliver was busy looking away from Emalie, not really paying attention to what he saw—

When he spied the pale white apparition again.

Chapter 6

The Third Attack

IT WAS FLOATING IN
the dark beneath the highway, weaving among cement pylons. Oliver could see its willowy form more clearly—blurred lines sketching out a human form, edged with silver and electric blue.

“Hey, do you guys see that?” Oliver pointed, but right when he did, the apparition slowed, no longer keeping pace as the bus followed a curve in the road and passed under the highway.

“What?” asked Dean.

Oliver twisted around. The apparition was lost among the shadows, but Oliver found a very certain thought in his head:
It's waiting for me.
“We need to get off,” he said, and jumped to his feet.

“Wait, why?” Dean asked. “What did you see?”

“Come on, Dean,” said Emalie knowingly.

They hooked arms and leaped off the bus, stumbling in an awkward landing on the uneven dirt. Oliver peered around the gloomy world of pylons and shadows. Above, the heavy concrete structure roared and shook.

“It's cool in here,” said Emalie, pulling her old camera from inside her jacket. She twisted the focus, composing a shot, but then lowered the lens, her eyes wide. “There it is,” she whispered.

Oliver followed her gaze and saw the apparition ahead. It was hovering by a long staircase that zigzagged down from Capitol Hill, under the highway, all the way to the lake.

“And what exactly is that?” asked Dean, peering ahead.

“Not sure,” Oliver replied. “An apparition, I think. I saw it the other night, at the zoo.” He started toward it.

“Wait.” Dean grabbed his arm. “Is it dangerous?”

“I don't think so,” Oliver said and kept walking. Again, he felt a sense that this thing wanted to communicate with him.

The three moved closer. The apparition remained in place. As Oliver neared the staircase, he could see the faintest lines of a face, of hair.

“We're right near your human parents' old house,” Dean said absently. “For whatever that's worth.”

Oliver barely heard him. He was within twenty feet of it now, close enough to hear the faint hissing sound of its sparking edges. Then the apparition started to move, floating up the staircase. Oliver reached the stairs and turned to follow it—when a familiar animal scent reached his nose.

“Oliver!”
Dean whispered, smelling it, too.

The concrete stairs rose to a landing that was surrounded by tangles of blackberry bushes. There sat the jaguar.

“Um …” said Emalie.

The apparition floated past the cat, up the stairs and out of sight.

The jaguar hissed at them, then turned and slinked back to the next set of stairs—and stopped, turning back to eye them before it kept going.

Bane?
Oliver thought.

“I think it wants us to follow it,” said Emalie.

“Wouldn't that be kind of dumb?” asked Dean reasonably.

“Come on,” said Emalie, starting after it.

“Emalie, wait!” Dean called.

“No, she's right,” said Oliver, falling into step behind her. In fact, he wasn't sure that she was, but he wanted to see the apparition again.

They climbed to the first landing and found the jaguar perched atop the next set of steps, silhouetted by a sidewalk lamp. The apparition was halfway up the steps behind it, continuing to float up and out of sight. In the light, Oliver could make out an eerie orange glow in the jaguar's eyes. And there was another scent on the air up here—of death.

“Uh-oh,” Dean commented.

The cat turned and padded away up the next steep staircase, almost like it was following the apparition. The trio climbed after it and found themselves in a paved alley between brick apartment buildings. There were large Dumpsters here and there against the walls, with lines of trash cans between them. Oliver's eyes darted from the trash to the iron fire escapes above, his nose checking for the jaguar and also for the source of the ominous scent.

They reached the street. There were more apartment buildings in both directions and a small playground across the road. Oliver spied the jaguar sitting expectantly at the edge of the park grass. It purred, turned, and disappeared behind a wooden playground structure.

“And we're sure we're not about to get eaten?” Dean wondered as they crossed the street.

“Never sure of anything,” said Oliver. “Just a feeling.”

“I don't think it wants to eat us,” Emalie said, sounding confident. Oliver wasn't feeling certain of the jaguar's intentions at all, so why was Emalie? But he did feel like the apparition wanted them to see something. Something that had to do with the animal. Only the apparition was nowhere to be found.

They reached the climbing structure and stopped beside a metal slide. Swings dangled empty nearby, their seats covered in dew.

“Doesn't this have ‘trap' written all over it?” Dean asked.

“It's—”

Thwump!

A body landed on the slide.

“Ah!” Emalie cried, a sound Oliver had never heard her make.

It was a girl's body, her lifeless eyes gazing up into the night. Oliver looked up to see the jaguar standing atop the peaked roof of the play structure. It hissed again.

Emalie stared at the body, transfixed. “Do you hear anything?” Oliver asked.

Emalie nodded. “Her name was Jamila,” she said softly.

Oliver knelt beside the body, glancing warily at the jaguar, up on its perch. He reached gingerly to the girl's neck and pushed her black hair out of the way. “She hasn't been dead very long,” said Oliver. “A few minutes, maybe.” He saw the large wounds where the jaguar's teeth had done their work—but also, there between the gashes were two puncture holes, clearly made by vampire teeth.

The scent of the human blood momentarily overwhelmed him. Oliver felt woozy, and a strong urge overcame him—
Take a bite.

“Oh.” Oliver turned to see Emalie frowning at him.

“Sorry,” said Oliver quickly. “I didn't—”

Emalie shook her head. “Forget it,” she muttered, yet she avoided his eyes.

Oliver felt a burst of frustration. How could he constantly guard his thoughts against what Emalie might hear while so much else was going on? It was starting to drive him crazy.

He glared at the jaguar above. “Bane! Is that you?”

“It's him,” Emalie whispered. Her eyes were closed and she was holding her ruby scarab, its chain dangling around her neck. It was a conduit charm. By placing it between her hands and blowing on it, she could travel into minds.

The jaguar hissed viciously.

“Emalie …” Oliver said worriedly. The last time he'd seen her try this, with Lythia, she'd ended up getting hurt.

“Bane's in there,” Emalie reported, “but he's not in control. Something is holding him prisoner.” She winced. “He can't stop the killing.… and he thinks it's … because of … Nnnnaa—” She suddenly slumped over, her eyes rolling back, her lips quivering.

“Emalie!” Dean rushed over and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“What—” Oliver began.

“Oliver, watch out!” Dean shouted as he pulled Emalie away.

Oliver whirled.

The jaguar leaped off the roof, hurtling through the air and landing on Oliver, crushing him to the ground. Its eyes blazed orange, its jaws were inches from his face, its putrid breath blasting him with the smell of blood. There also seemed to be a strange, bitter spice odor: Was it datura? This felt much more dangerous than when Bane had been playing around the other night in the park.

“Get off him!” Dean plowed into the cat with his shoulder. They tumbled onto the grass. Oliver jumped to his feet. The jaguar righted itself and slashed at Dean, raking his face with thick claws. “Geh!” Dean crumpled to the ground.

“Stop it, Bane!” Oliver screamed, his eyes igniting in amber.

The jaguar hissed at him, ears flattened against its head, then turned and fled, bounding into the street. In a moment it was lost in the shadows between cars and buildings.

“Dean—”

“I'm fine,” Dean groaned, standing up. When he turned, he didn't look fine. Four long gashes extended down the side of his face. He felt at the wounds. “That's gonna leave a mark,” he muttered, then reached down for a handful of sand, which he began rubbing into the black, bloodless wounds, to keep them from getting infected.

“Where's Emalie?”

“Over here.” Dean led Oliver across the street, behind a car. Emalie was lying against the trunk of a large tree, eyes closed.

“Yrr fall …” she mumbled quietly.

Oliver leaned close to her. “What, Emalie?”

Her eyes fluttered open … and looked shockingly different. Her irises had turned bloodred, her pupils white. Her hands shot up and grabbed Oliver by the throat.
“It's your fault they're destroying me!”
she shouted, her voice edged with a demonic hiss.

“What's she talking about?” Dean asked frantically.

Emalie's grip was so tight, Oliver couldn't take in a breath to speak. If he'd been a human, she'd be choking the life out of him.

“Emalie, knock if off.” Dean yanked her hands away, tearing Oliver's shirt in the process.

“Don't touch me!” Emalie screamed. She got her feet beneath her and lunged away with more than a human's speed. She landed like a cat, eyes still smoldering, pupils white hot. “You don't—”

A bewildered frown crossed her face, and just like that, her eyes returned to normal. Emalie rubbed at her head. “Sorry …” she mumbled, then looked around. “W … What just happened?”

“Lots,” said Dean.

“Emalie,” Oliver said carefully, rubbing at his neck, “something's going on with you.”

Emalie shrugged, then started looking around with concern. “Where's Bane?”

“He took off, still in the jaguar, he—” But Oliver stopped, hearing a familiar sound. “Sshh.”

A bat circled in the air above the playground. It swept low by the body, and a swirl of black smoke grew from it. Tyrus McKnight, Sebastian's partner at Half-Light, appeared. He wore his long black coat and high turtleneck sweater. He bent toward the girl, pushing up his small round glasses as his narrow nose did the same detective work that Oliver had done.

The blackberry bushes rustled at the edge of the park, and a raccoon appeared, black smoke rising from it as well.

“How's it look?” asked Tyrus's partner Leah. She had dark skin, frizzy hair, and dark red eyes.

“Like an Occupied jaguar,” said Tyrus.

He produced a glass ball from his coat and popped it open. Using a small black stick, he scraped a bit of blood from the girl's neck and wiped it into the sphere. He clicked it closed and stood, pulling out a square black gadget with a depression in the middle. He dropped the ball into this, where it spun and hummed.

Tyrus read from a blue screen. “It's him again. Malcolm will be pleased. His little Nagual is working nicely.” Tyrus pocketed the device and turned to Leah. “Safe to call our intrepid detective?”

Leah closed her eyes, held out her hands, and swirled her palms. The air rippled like liquid around them. “The animal is almost a mile off—wait—someone else is here.”

“Come on!” Oliver hissed. They sprinted for the alley.

“Where?” Tyrus asked in the distance.

Oliver, Dean, and Emalie bounded down the lengths of stairs until they were back under the highway. They ducked behind one of the cement pylons and watched the staircase and the skies, but no one seemed to be in pursuit.

In the distance, a police siren warbled to life.

“Bane's in a bad way,” said Emalie.

Oliver studied her exhausted face. “That was Bane talking through you up there, wasn't it?”

Emalie's brow furrowed, like she was searching her thoughts.

“Like he did in Italy,” Dean chimed in.

“It … yeah.” Emalie nodded. “It was. I think I channeled him, somehow.”

“He said,
‘It's your fault they're destroying me.'
Did he mean
my
fault?” Oliver asked.

Emalie shrugged.

“Who's destroying him?” Dean asked.

“I don't know,” said Oliver. “I don't know of any enemies that Bane has.”

“Tyrus said something about a Nagual,” said Dean. “What's that?”

“Don't know that either,” Oliver replied.

“Whatever it is, Bane can't escape it,” said Emalie. “And he's scared.”

“Bane?” said Oliver incredulously. “That's hard to imagine.” Oliver couldn't remember ever seeing his brother scared.

“He is,” said Emalie. “I can tell.” Oliver was surprised to hear worry in her voice.

“So, I don't get it,” said Dean. “If Half-Light knows there's a vampire in the jaguar, then why are they telling good ol' Detective Pederson? Wouldn't they want to hide the mess and solve it themselves?”