THERE’S A SLIGHT UPSET in the town, but that’s it. I’m disappointed.
I stay hidden in an oak tree that has barely lost any of its leaves as I squint at the dying rays of sunlight, using my hand to help shade my eyes. Usually, I wouldn’t bother coming outside until the sun has completely gone down, but I wanted to see for myself what’s been going on.
At first, I wondered if the humans here were really that incompetent or fearful that they’d hide my murder from the rest of the town. There’s no other reason for such a quiet response to what I did last night. Now that I’m here, I see someone did, in fact, cover up my murder.
The human body I left behind has been cleaned up without a trace. The human blood I placed on the statue has also been erased, and the one responsible used a tube of fake blood and sprayed it on the statue instead. It’s very peculiar. It seems I was right about something going on in this town, but it looks like it might be much deeper than I thought. Would an angel do something like this? It seems like a long shot, but I can’t picture a human doing this. Maybe a demon… but that seems like even more of a long shot.
The humans clean the blood off the marble statue, and then they put cautionary tape around it as a deterrent, but they don’t do anything more than that. I suppose they’ll fix it at some point, but for now, this is apparently good enough. Night sets in and the park stays silent.
As cute as this all is, it’s not enough to keep the rage from boiling in my veins. Where the hell are the angels? This place was saturated in their scent when I first arrived, but the air has shifted since then. It’s darker. Heavier.
The large branch I’m standing on shifts ever so slightly. I knew Yuki was coming to join me. I’m constantly aware of her presence because we’re rarely separated by a great enough distance for me not to be. Ever since the day she invited me to look inside of her soul, to the very essence that makes her up, I’ve been stuck with the knowledge of her presence. I can pick her out among every other darkness because I know the uniqueness of her soul. Some make it a habit to mark souls, to keep their pawns in place. That sounds overly ambitious and like a headache to me. I’ve only ever known one other soul the way I know Yuki’s. No. I knew that soul even better than Yuki’s.
“What are you doing?” Yuki asks as she comes up from behind me. She puts her arms around my waist and rests her cheek on my back.
“I’m hunting.”
“When aren’t you hunting?”
She stands on her tiptoes and kisses the back of my neck, stirring the beast inside of me—but I don’t have time for that right now.
The humans have left, and the angels ran away. Something else is going on…
My logician can’t concentrate when my beast feels only Yuki. I twist around in her hold so I’m facing her. Perfect red lips, skin like an orchid… I reach down, about to plant my lips on hers, when I hear footsteps. I glance behind me at the red-rock trail leading to the Guardian Angel as my logician takes control.
Humans.
Yuki lets go of me without me having to say anything. I glance down from the tree we’re in to see a pair of humans with flashlights. These two weren’t here earlier. They aren’t part of the police. They aren’t part of the local reporting team either. They’re something much more. The fact that they smell like poison tells me they’re probably something a little more dangerous.
“Hunters? Do they live here? Or did they somehow catch wind of us?” Yuki whispers.
I give her a hard glare. “Stay here.” She stops talking and she casts her eyes down to the ground, showing complete and utter submission to me. She won’t make a move unless I tell her to.
I drop out of the oak tree, landing on the grass below with hardly a sound. Keeping out of sight will be easy with all these trees and fairytale sculptures. I move from one blind spot to the next, until I have a clear view of the couple that is now bypassing the tape the police lamely placed around the Guardian Angel earlier.
“This doesn’t seem right, Yvonne,” a man says. “You can feel it, too. Can’t you? I know we aren’t aura readers, or psychics in any sense of the word, but we know this feeling.”
He looks weary, like he’s seen this sort of thing too many times before and wishes he didn’t have to see it again. He doesn’t particularly look like a hunter. It’s not that he doesn’t have potential, but it’s all too obvious to me that his body is very out of practice. Perhaps he is retired. He is wearing a silver cross around his neck, but that isn’t too surprising considering most of the people in this town seem to wear or keep trinkets like it. It’s the vervain running through his veins that makes me think he might be different than most of the people living here. He must drink it daily. Religiously.
He brings his right hand to the dark stubble on his face and closes his eyes. Then he rubs the bags underneath his eyes.
“Yes, but then what does this mean?” a woman, Yvonne, replies. “If some supernatural entity is behind this, why play such a lame prank?”
She looks just as weary as the man. She folds her arms in front of her chest and shivers slightly in the cold, covering up her matching silver cross. Her physical state isn’t any better than the man’s. There’s no way they could be active hunters—if they’re hunters at all. However, they’ve clearly been tainting their blood with vervain.
“I don’t know.” The man sighs and drops his hand back to his side. “Do you think it's still here?”
“Judging by the oppression in the air? Yes.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by their conversation. They aren’t amateurs, and I’m almost certain they at least have background with hunters. They drink vervain tea, wear crosses… they’re probably packing holy water and who knows what else. All I know is their very presence is foul. They could be a nuisance, but they won’t be any more than that. Hunters aren’t equipped to take down natural demons, and we’re far too lazy or clever—take your pick—to usually bother with them.
“What do you think we’re dealing with? Should we call Blade?” the man asks.
Yvonne shakes her head. “You’re right, Henry. We should call Blade. We should call the Johnsons, too. If we’re wrong, there won’t be any problems. If we’re not… Well, let’s hope we’re wrong.”
I glance up at the clear and starry sky. Hunters. Angels. Demons. The essence of this town feels like it’s growing dark, like some other darkness besides Yuki and I has arrived. It seems I need to do some digging of my own.
I jerk my head away from the sky above and spit on the ground in front of me. Angels pretend to have good intentions. They pretend that they care about the welfare of humans, and here they are leaving this town to demons like myself. They’re nothing but cowards and hypocrites.
My vision burns red. I want to kill something. I need some kind of release. I let a challenging howl rip from my throat. Hear me, angels. Answer my call and protect the fragile humans you so graciously forced your good will on. Answer me.
The angels don’t come. Demons don’t come either, but the hunter duo does. They heard my call loud and clear and they’re running toward me. I applaud their brave stupidity, but I have no interest in fighting them. They’re not strong enough to satisfy me, and I have bigger things to worry about right now.
I slip away long before they ever reach the place I was hiding. I meet Yuki back in the oak tree.
“Come with me,” I tell her.
She does so without question, and she doesn’t say a word as we slip through the town unnoticed. Since every damn building in Reverie is practically drowning in charms, Yuki and I have been staying just outside in a secluded forest. When we’ve reached an area where I feel satisfied that we won’t be bothered by any inquisitive humans, I stop.
Yuki stays silent, but she looks at me with her bright eyes, filled with years upon years of life essence.
“We’re staying in this town a little longer. I want to know who covered up my murder and why.”
She nods. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. Do you think the angels are behind it?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” I growl.