Dark Illusion, page 3
part #2 of Arondight Codex Series
“I need to find a new spot,” Wilder stated. “There’s too much noise in this one.”
“I’ll be quiet,” I promised a little too quickly.
“And here I was thinking you loathed my presence.”
I snorted. Far from it, much to my annoyance.
“It’s freezing out here,” I said. There were some things that just needed to be left unsaid for the benefit of everyone.
“There’ll be snow soon,” he mused. “We haven’t had any this year. It’s strange.”
“Wilder…” I let my words die in my throat, not sure how to tell him about my dream. It seemed important, and he was my mentor and trainer, but sometimes I didn’t know how to talk to him. Especially in moments like these when he had his walls up.
“What is it, Purples? Spit it out.” And there he went being all sensitive.
“I’ve got a bad feeling. Something…something’s in my dreams.”
He frowned, and I didn’t like it. “Like what?”
“That night at 8-bit…” I began to fiddle with the hem of my T-shirt. “The alley where we first met—”
“Don’t remind me, Purples. You sucked a lot of Light out of me that night with your annoying immunity to alteration.”
I snorted and punched him in the arm. “Jackson was there and a demon of some kind. A shadow that phased in and out.”
Wilder scowled and shook his head. “It’s just a dream.”
“Was it? It felt important. He said the arondight blade wasn’t fast enough. Whatever that means.” My frown deepened. “What if he’s in trouble?”
“Purples, you’re just tired. People dream a lot when they’re under stress. It happens.”
“Are you sure?”
He grunted and turned back towards the city. London sparkled with orange and yellow artificial lights, and the Thames glittered as it flowed away from the sea, completely at the mercy of the tides.
“Wilder—”
“You better go back inside, Purples. There’s only a few hours before the sun comes up.”
His brush off wasn’t unexpected, but it still hurt. Echoing his earlier grunt, I rose to my feet and walked away, too much on my mind to worry about Wilder’s grumpy exterior.
He tended to be right about most things. It was another item on the list of his personality traits that annoyed me no end.
It was just a dream. Jackson was fine. He was a super-powered demon-hybrid on the side of the Light. He could protect himself.
It was just a dream.
3
As I expected, I was obliterated when I dragged myself out of bed the next morning.
I was drifting in and out of sleep, dangling dangerously over my bowl of bland muesli, when Romy sat down across from me. I jerked awake, flicking milk over the table.
“Careful, you don’t want to drown in your cereal,” she chirped, her eyes bright and alert.
“Don’t sound so cheerful,” I grumbled. “It’s making my head ache.”
She leaned forwards and rested her chin on her hands. “What’s up?”
“Wilder’s on the grumpy warpath again,” I said with a dramatic moan.
She shrugged. “That’s Wilder.”
My thoughts went back to last night and the way he brushed off my concerns about Jackson. “It wouldn’t hurt him to be a little less dismissive, though.”
“Yeah, but he’s probably the best to learn from,” Romy said. “Wilder’s weird, doesn’t like authority, and has an arrogant streak that makes him anti-social at best, but he was top of his class at the academy.”
“Really?” I asked, suddenly interested. “He’s never mentioned it.”
The Natural shrugged. “His name was over everything. The honour roll, trophies, and medals, all that kind of stuff, but no one ever talked about him. Not really. It wasn’t until I was assigned to the Sanctum that I understood why. I mean, people talked and passed around rumours about his funky eyes and stuff, but it never meant that much to me. Not until I saw him.”
I snorted and resisted the urge to roll my eyes—eyes being the word of the day. “I wouldn’t know the difference, really.”
“Kids are cruel no matter what race they belong to,” Romy said. “We’re different, but when someone’s different again… I guess we’re also victims of fear, just like humans.”
I couldn’t even imagine what Wilder must’ve went through at that school. His eyes had a silver sheen in certain light, much like a demon’s did, and when you looked like the race of pure evil you were training to battle, that was an invitation for all kinds of awful stuff—bullies, hazing, ostracisation. He’d also confessed to me that his Natural abilities ran a little deeper than they were supposed to, which accounted for his obvious prodigy status at the academy. He must’ve been the height of popularity, not, but I could understand how it might’ve shaped his adult life. I could relate—I had my own quirks due to the same kind of experiences.
Chairs scraped back as we were joined by Martin, Alo, and Valeria, who all looked perfect in their own tough-as-nails Natural way. Alo grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back like a moron. His bulky muscles, long hair, and plaited beard gave him a mean metal-head look—sometimes it looked like he walked off the set of a movie about Vikings—but he was a big teddy bear underneath that aggressive demon hunter exterior.
“You look like shite,” Martin declared. He was the high and mighty type, who was always quick to tell anyone how much he disliked Wilder. I wouldn’t go as far to say he was a Natural purist, but his hatred for demons was on another level. It was clear something had happened in his past, though I wasn’t asking any questions.
“Thanks,” I shot back, digging my spoon into my muesli.
“Every time I see you in the gym, you’re soaked with sweat,” Valeria added. Sweet, ginger, Valeria with her freckles, willowy frame, and deadly twin arondight blades. I’d seen her train, too.
I shrugged. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
Alo wrapped his hand around my bicep and squeezed. “You’ve got muscles, Scarlett. Actual muscles!”
“Smart-arse,” I muttered, shaking him off as the others laughed.
“Just keep working at it,” Romy said. “When you get used to it, stuff stops hurting.”
“I hope so.” I slumped over my breakfast. “Some days I can hardly sit down.”
The Naturals were having a good laugh at my expense when Wilder appeared out of the ether and glowered down at us. He’d moved so silently that none of us had seen or heard him approach. What a creeper.
Martin scowled up at him, Alo gulped, Valeria openly stared, and Romy was indifferent to the intimidating glare of the six-foot-two demon hunter, but that was Romy. She was as easy-going as a warrior in an eternal fight between Light and Dark could get.
“Scarlett,” Wilder said, ignoring the looks thrown his way. He said he was used to being ostracised by his own people, but I kind of felt enraged for him.
Uh oh, he was calling me by my name again, which meant I was either in trouble or something important was going down. I couldn’t think of any rules I’d broken, so I hoped he was here because of the latter.
“See you guys later,” I said, peeling myself away from the table.
We’d barely left the kitchen when I began to pepper him with questions.
“What’s going on? Has something happened? Is it Jackson? Has someone found the Balan demon?”
I followed him through the halls and down a flight of stairs before he put me out of my misery and offered an explanation.
“We’re going out into the city tonight,” he said.
It was exactly what I wanted, but I found myself panicking over the thought of the battle being fought in the shadows. I’d faced demons before—lesser ones in the tube, Infernals in the street, and the Balan who’d infiltrated the Sanctum—so I shouldn’t be afraid. Thinking about the demonology book Wilder had given me the other day, I shuddered. The difference from then to now was that I now understood what they were and all the ways they could eat my soul.
“But I haven’t even started to use my Light yet,” I whined. “What if—”
“You were the one who was complaining about not going after your boyfriend,” Wilder stated. “Now that you’ve got the chance, you’re afraid?”
“I’m not afraid and he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh, that’s right. He was into monogamy and you were into playing both worlds.”
I gasped. “You didn’t just say that!”
He raised his eyebrows. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
We were down in the basement, but not as far as the vaults. I wasn’t keen on revisiting the cells below the Sanctum, so I was glad when we stopped outside a nondescript door.
Opening it, Wilder practically shoved me into the murky room beyond.
My eyes widened as I realised where we were. It was an entire room of arondight blades. They were all hilts of course, but I knew the power they concealed.
I walked around the room, my footsteps echoing back and forth against the flagstones. There were no two hilts alike. Some had heavy cross guards, others had forked counter weights, others were carved with elaborate designs, a few had jewelled pommels, and some were short while others were long. There were more modern designs that had cross guards that retracted down into the handgrips, and were unadorned.
“There’s so many,” I said, my voice loud in the hushed armoury.
“There’s eighty-two,” Wilder stated. “London has the largest collection out of the other Sanctums.”
“What about the ones on the walls?”
“Those are historical relics,” he replied. “And some of them are blades of the fallen.”
“Really? Why hasn’t anyone told me?”
“You’d know if you read the nameplates.” Wilder nodded towards the racks of arondight blades. “It’s time to choose, Purples.”
I swallowed hard and raked my gaze over the sword hilts. The role I’d fought so hard for was suddenly becoming real, and I wasn’t prepared for the anxiety that rose in my gut. Once I chose a blade, that was it. I was not longer a Natural in probationary training…I was a Natural.
“Why now?” I asked, turning to face Wilder. “We’ve only been training for a month.”
“Time isn’t on our side, Purples.” He didn’t offer any more explanation, and I curled my lip in annoyance.
I knew the stakes, but it was apparent something had changed. Recently, too.
“I’m getting my first arondight blade,” I said to the empty room. “Somehow I feel like my parents should’ve been here.”
“It isn’t a ceremony,” Wilder drawled. “There isn’t cake after this. Just the fight against the Darkness.”
“Please.” I didn’t need his smart-arse commentary, I needed my mentor. “What do I do?”
“Choose,” he stated. “You’ll know when you find the right one.” He looked at his watch.
“Wilder, this is important. Can you quit the attitude for once in your life? I don’t need the wounded guy with a chip on his shoulder, I need my mentor.”
His jaw tightened. “Fine,” he said, stepping into my personal space. Pressing his hands on my shoulders, he turned me around so my back was to him.
“Close your eyes,” he murmured, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. “Listen.”
I did as he said, the entire length of my body tingling from his closeness. It wasn’t like all the times we tangled during training, it was something more intimate. This moment was more important than any other in my training, and Wilder’s presence stirred something unknown inside me. I tensed, and his hands tightened on my shoulders.
“Close out everything else,” he whispered. “Forget me. Forget why you’re here. Listen.”
I lowered my head and breathed deeply, shutting out the physical distractions. We stood in the centre of the room for what felt like an age before I opened my eyes. Turning to the left, I shook off Wilder’s touch and moved towards the rack of hilts.
Which one are you? I mused silently.
Reaching out, I picked up a simple unassuming hilt. The moment I held it firmly in my grasp, I knew it was mine. There was no fanfare, no zap of Light, no magical ta-da, there was just simple knowledge.
I held it out in front of me, marvelling at how light it was. The cross guard was small and curled in on itself, and the pommel was a twisted ball of metal that resembled a flickering flame caught by the wind. The grip was delicate but held enough roughness that my hands held firm.
It was nothing like the other arondight blades I’d used before. Those had been heavy and unwieldy, and even Wilder’s was too bulky for me.
I turned to find Wilder smirking at me.
“I didn’t hear anything,” I said, wondering if I’d done it wrong. “I just knew.”
His lips quirked. “That’s how it’s supposed to work, Purples.” He took the hilt from my hands and turned it over, inspecting my choice. “Cool.”
“Cool?”
“It’s small, easily concealed, light, and good for your height and weight. The blade will be long and slim. It suits your style.”
“It does?”
He pressed the hilt into my hands. “Give it a try.”
The metal was cool in my palms, but my grip was steady, like it was made to be held by me and me alone.
Wilder gave me some space, and as I brought the blade to life, my Light tingled. Violet sparks erupted as the sword clicked into place—long and slim, just like Wilder said—and my eyes widened. This was my arondight blade. Mine.
“Congratulations,” Wilder drawled. “You just passed your first test.”
I hesitated. “Wait, that was a test?”
“Greer was worried you wouldn’t be able to find one,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “She thought you’d only be able to wield the Arondight.”
I screwed up my nose. “That’s silly. I’ve been able to use other blades just fine.”
“You can use other blades, but they don’t work as well as the one that chooses you.” He gestured for me to sheath my sword.
“It chose me!” I grinned, realising what it meant. I was a true Natural despite my contact with Arondight and my tumultuous upbringing, including all those years of pills dampening my Light.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Wilder said, rolling his eyes.
“What now?” I asked as I willed my blade to return to the hilt.
“Now we go find that weedy demon-hybrid and save him from himself.”
After a whole day of stewing in my own juices, we’d left the Sanctum the moment night had fallen. The second Wilder and I had passed through the magical cloak over the building, I was disappointed to find my uneasiness didn’t stay behind. I hadn’t left London, but it felt like I was returning home after a long absence and someone had changed the carpet without me knowing.
The train carriage jolted, and I grasped the bright yellow pole, checking to make sure my arondight blade was still hidden inside my leather jacket. My nerves were getting the better of me and it had nothing to do with the possibility of running into a demon or two. When we found Jackson, what was I going to say to him?
‘Sup. We’re here to take you back to the Sanctum where Ramona, the surly Natural doctor, wants to experiment on you to find out what makes you tick.’ Somehow, I was positive that wasn’t the angle I should come at this from.
Wilder leaned against the pole in the middle of the carriage, his body swaying with the movement of the train as it zoomed through the underground. Commuters gave him a wide berth as they got on and off, unconsciously moving away from the sense of danger he exuded.
I studied everyone who passed, wondering if a demon was hitching a ride in any of their mortal shells. I couldn’t tell, but maybe they were all clean.
“How do you know?” I asked, sidling up beside Wilder.
“Know what?” he drawled, looking bored.
“That something’s in them,” I replied. “The last time I was on the tube with you, you sensed one without even looking.”
“When you’re tuned to your Light, you’ll be able to feel them.”
I glowered, staring at our reflections in the windows as the tunnel flashed past. “That’s why I was worried about coming out here without learning more about it.”
“You’re not alone anymore, Purples. You’ve got me.”
I made a face. “Let’s throw a party.” He grunted but didn’t rise to my sarcastic baiting. “I don’t even know what to tell Jackson.” My frown deepened. “We’ve never fought like this.”
“I’m fairly sure no one’s had a falling out over being a demon-hybrid before.”
“I don’t care about that,” I argued. “And that’s not why we fell out.”
“Pardon me,” Wilder declared with a pout. “The poor guy was in unrequited love with the very person who’d just signed up to kill creatures like him.”
“Sounds a lot like this silver-eyed arsehole I know.”
“Low blow, Purples.” He shifted his weight as the train began to slow for the next station. “If he’s as important to you as you say he is, then you already know what to tell him.”
The doors swished open and the speakers blared, ‘This station is Camden Town, Edgware branch. Change here for all stations to High Barnet and Mill Hill East from platform three. This train terminates at Edgware.’
Wilder strode off the train and onto the platform with me on his heels. We worked our way through the narrow tunnels and rode the escalator to the surface.
I noticed we weren’t jostled once, even though there was a thick crowd heading out for the night. Camden was always pumping, especially once everyone knocked off work for the day. There were tons of pubs, clubs, restaurants, and live music venues drawing people who were looking for a bit of fun from all over the city.
When we walked out of the station, I was surprised when we turned up the High Street and not towards Kentish Town Road, where Jackson’s flat was located.
