Page 2 of A Wicked Dance of Obsidian and Light (Echoes of Darkness #1)

I spot the two possessed humans with the help of my ethereal sight , their tainted black-greenish auras pulsing around their bodies, a clear indication of the possession. They’ve managed to break into an ATM and steal all the cash. I have to bide my time, though, and follow them until there aren’t any witnesses around. Everything we do has to remain under the veil of secrecy. Humans aren’t supposed to learn about the reality—or better said, horrors—of our world.

Covetorax demons are some really ugly motherfuckers, but out of all of the demons that escape through the veil into the human realm, these are the easiest to kill. They aren’t very strong or smart and don’t consume the light of a human soul as fast as other, more powerful demons. They personify greed, like shiny objects, and have a thing for robbing banks, jewelry stores, and anything of value.

The sickly smell of perfume, sweat, alcohol and bad decisions all mingle together to overpower my senses as the demons lead me smack dab in the center of Ashville, on the main street of the Raven District—the busiest neighborhood in the city with summer right around the corner. At nighttime, swarms of partygoers take over the district, transforming it into a bustling beehive. I just prefer it much more during the day. Being sober and trying to weave your way through the throngs of people and the drunks that got shit-faced at the happy hour after work isn’t an easy feat.

Most of them are still wearing suits and work-appropriate clothes, all haphazard after a few hours of drinking. Men with shirts no longer tucked in their pants, groups of women in high heels walking slow on unsteady feet, speech slurred and loud in an attempt to cover the blasting music spilling all over the street in a cacophony of beats as people are hopping in and out of bars.

Raven District is like a beacon for all the people trying to have a good time and indulge in the sinful promises whispered to them by their innermost-darkest desires. Under the moonlight and the influence of alcohol and drugs, everything is possible. The regret will only come the next morning when the stain of shame can’t be washed by the water of their morning showers.

Humans aren’t the only ones attracted by the nightlife and chaos in the Raven District. Demon activity is the strongest where lust, gluttony, and greed are delivered on a silver platter to feast off. Broken, damaged souls are the easiest to corrupt as the demonic influence slithers through their thoughts, taking control of their minds and actions. Fortunately, the lightborn, the members of the Order, can’t be possessed. Our blood lineage is blessed by the archangels, making our bodies sanctified vessels that can’t be breached by any type of demonic influence.

I remain in the shadows while passing Sin, following the possessed humans. It seems like half the city is waiting in line to get into the neighborhood’s newest hot spot. In a stark difference from the after-work crowd, groups of gorgeous women wearing short, slinky dresses paired with sky-high heels and men looking sharp in their best clothes form the longest line I have ever seen in front of the sleek, three-story building. Huh, so Sam wasn’t lying when she said this is the hottest place in town.

Still tailing the two demons toward the end of the street, keeping an unsuspecting distance while not letting them escape my sight, I barely dodge a guy stumbling out of the Irish Pub looking like the Devil is snapping at his heels. Probably a lawyer, judging by his expensive black suit that most likely cost more than my entire wardrobe.

I jump back right at the last second before his body jerks forward with a spasm, then suddenly bends over at the waist as he projectile vomits right in front of me.

Eww. Asshole.

He almost threw up on my boots. Luckily, only a few drops splattered my beloved Dr. Martens. Thank God for hellseeker reflexes. I step to the side, annoyed, and gag a little when I feel the stench of regurgitated alcohol and his last meal, which I suppose was a burger, burning my nose. Ugh . I hate hunting demons at the start of the Raven District weekend. I always want to kick someone’s drunken ass by the end of the night. I throw the disgusting drunk an annoyed look over my shoulder and continue my pursuit.

Turning left at the end of the street, I stop when the covetorax demons do, getting ready to break into a jewelry store that’s closed at this hour. The shop is small and quaint, with big windows adorned in a display of intricate pieces of jewelry that sparkle in the light cast by the lamppost.

The humans they possess are of average height, one bulkier than the other, and if I had to guess, they’re both in their early twenties. The bulkier, shaved-head man on my left is dressed head to toe in black, a leather vest over his heavy metal band T-shirt. Tattoos cover every inch of exposed skin, and he has about ten piercings that I can see. He looks like he just got out of an MC Club meeting.

Whereas the one on my right is all limby and awkward mannerisms. With his pressed khakis, shiny shoes, and tucked shirt, he looks like the perfect churchgoing choir boy. He even wears thick-rimmed, round glasses while he wields a crowbar, trying to force the front door of the jewelry store open.

The image is so strange I almost burst into laughter, but I try to control myself as I put my back to the wall two buildings behind them, blending in with the shadows under the alcove of the entrance to Ciprianni’s. The Italian restaurant is closed at this hour, and all I can think about is how hungry I am.

I haven’t had time to eat dinner tonight, and I’m tiptoeing the line of becoming hangry. All I have to do is wait for them to break into the store, steal the jewelry, and run. I’ll make my move on the retreat.

My “move” usually consists of tracking them to a back alley, killing the demons without witnesses, and handing the stolen goods to the police after ensuring that no harm was done to the human hosts (of course).

Humans surmise at all the hidden horrors of the world, hence all the scary movies out there, but they’re supposed to live in blissful ignorance. Of course, people in high places and the intelligence agencies know about the presence of demons, but they usually leave the Order of Sariel to deal with anything demon-related, since it was, after all, formed at the command of the archangels.

My mouth waters and my stomach grumbles as I imagine a steaming bowl of shrimp truffle pasta in front of me…the same thing I ordered when Noah took me out on our first date at this very restaurant. Fuck . As much as I’ve tried to avoid thinking about him since my discussion with Sam, my mind keeps replaying all of our moments together on a loop like a sick movie. A special brand of torture that claws at my heart with steel-tipped talons, pooling blood from old wounds I thought long healed.

My blood simmers as our last kiss flashes before my eyes, and his empty promises ring in my ears. My nails dig deep into my palms, leaving crescent indentations behind.

The hurt is quickly replaced by the taste of betrayal. It burns through me like acid because I fell in love with him like a fool, and I believed him when he said before he left that he would never forget about me. It’s been five years, and Noah hasn’t sent a single text. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Well, fuck him. He clearly moved on, and so have I.

As I’m berating myself for letting the ghost of what Noah and I could have been tear me to pieces again, the two possessed humans suddenly turn around, their malice-filled gazes fixate on me and run before stealing anything as if they somehow knew I was onto them. That’s never happened before. Covetorax demons are not smart at all, and the compulsion they feel to steal makes them oblivious to their surroundings.

Dumfounded by the fact that they ran before breaking into the jewelry store, I just stand there gaping like a newb. Usually, I like to think of myself as a badass bitch and all that since I’m one of the best hellseekers in the Order, and I kill demons on the regular. Shit . The covetorax are getting away while I’m frozen in place, gawking at their disappearing backs like the village idiot.

I quickly compose myself and start chasing after them, boots pounding fast on the pavement, soles burning my feet. I get some weird glances from people I pass on the streets since I’m not wearing running gear, and also, who the fuck would go for a jog at this hour in the middle of the night? As I get further away from the Raven District, though, there are fewer and fewer people, most of them sleeping peacefully in their beds, unaware of the dangers lurking in their dark alleys.

Thankfully, I’m able to track the covetorax demons to the edge of the forest, where the national park of Ashville starts. Grayson would’ve had my ass in a sling if I lost them. There aren’t any people in the forest at night, so I can tap into that unearthly speed that all members of the Order possess and sprint after them.

The late-night spring air is crisper and a bit colder here in the forest compared to the air in the center of the city. It fills my lungs and burns the tip of my nose as leaves and fallen branches crunch under my combat boots. Balmy currents of pine-scented air mixing with chilly winds bite the skin on my cheeks with tiny pricks as I run faster and faster.

The stars twinkle and sparkle brightly in the sky, unhindered by the artificial city lights. The full moon, a bright orb of gray light, casts an eerie glow on the forest foliage, making the leaves appear translucent. I hope like hell there aren’t any wolf shifters in the park tonight.

They usually stay in their community, not this close to the border of town, but last year, there were a lot of deaths caused by what humans believed to be animal attacks. I have a sneaky suspicion a rogue wolf shifter was involved. Wolf shifters, dark witches, vampires, and any other dark creatures are all under the jurisdiction of the Obsidian Conclave, though.

Without breaking any sweat, I run until I reach a clearing in the forest, right on the shore of Shadow Lake, where the humans possessed by the covetorax demons simply stand there, blank-faced and waiting for me.

This night could win an award for its weirdness so far.

“Well then, I guess you decided to make this really easy on me. Let’s get this party started, boys! Ice cream and a new season of The Vampire Diaries are waiting for me at home,” I say while approaching them and uncoiling my whip out of its holster. It’s my weapon of choice when demon fighting.

Our weapons are sanctified by the archangels, and these are the only things able to kill demons; holy water is just laughable, honestly. The one downside, though, is the only weapons the archangels sanctified are old-fashioned ones. We can’t use guns or any modern weapons; the bullets would go straight through them.

One of them snorts in response, since covetorax can’t talk even when possessing a human. I blame it on their pea-sized brains, if they even have any. Then they both snarl at me at the same time, taking fighting positions.

Huh. This is pretty weird, too; I have never encountered a covetorax that would willingly get into a fight.

I tap the oval piece of onyx I’m wearing in the choker around my neck. Aside from the necklace with the amethyst pendant, the choker is the only piece of jewelry I wear. I never take either of them off, even when I shower.

The onyx stone glows red, and at the same time, the mouths of the two possessed humans open forcefully. Two smoke clouds leave their bodies that drop lifelessly with a thud to the ground, the thick-rimmed, round glasses shattering at the impact.

All of the Order members wear jewelry that encapsulates onyx. When we tap it, it has the power to extract demons from possessed humans, so we can kill them without harming their bodies. It works best on weaker demons, though, and never on Elite ones like Princes or Dukes of Hell, who don’t need to possess humans because they come topside looking like them already.

Once the demons are extracted from their bodies, the humans usually wake up after a few hours and think they have the worst hangover of their lives and will go on like nothing happened. Unless their souls are tainted too far by the possession and we have to step in.

The smell of sulfur and soured meat fills my nostrils as the smoke starts taking the true form of the demons. Instead of the small and frail bodies of the covetorax, long muscular limbs with deadly claws, a cross between a hellhound and a panther with leathery reptilian skin, and two horned heads made only of razor-sharp teeth appear in front of me. I lay my eyes on the two draconic ravengers.

What in the actual fuck?

The shock pins me in place a second too long as one of the ravenger demons lets out a battle cry and flies at me on all fours with supernatural speed. It catches me off guard and slices my left forearm with its poisonous claws.

Motherfucker! That really hurt!

I manage to jump back right at the last second before those claws tear through my chest. When the other ravenger approaches and tries biting my head off, I crouch and roll on my right side. Making sure I’m far enough from its razor-sharp teeth, I propel myself up, then spin my whip in a circle above my head and throw it around the first ravenger’s neck to immobilize it. It moves like a fish out of the water, its limbs and claws frantically swinging at me.

The previous ravenger comes at me again, but this time, I’m prepared, so I jump onto its back and use it as a springboard, launching myself into the air. Using the momentum, I unsheathe the sword strapped to my back and chop the head off the ravenger I have contained in my whip as I land into a nimble crouch.

The black rancid goop that sprays from its severed head gets into my eyes and mouth. I gag when I feel the taste of rot and sulfur on my tongue.

Eww.

For fucks sake, Iris, pull yourself together. Not turning your head to avoid the ichor is so amateur.

Its body disintegrates in seconds, leaving only black smoke and the acrid scent of rot behind.

The second one takes the opportunity to attack me while I’m furiously wiping at my eyes to get the disgusting goop off my face. I dodge its attempt to hit me with its hind legs, but it unexpectedly swings its front claws at me, slicing through my pants and into the skin and muscle on the front of my thighs.

Sanctifiber might be sturdy enough, but it surely isn’t foolproof. Red-hot pain shoots through me as blood starts seeping from the deep gashes. My rage threatens to boil over.

“These pants were new, dammit, and they make my ass look really good. Now I have to throw them out, you sorry excuse of a demon,” I yell as I strike the demon with my whip and slice its legs off. It releases a high-pitched, deafening scream as it falls to the ground with a loud thump, so I bend down and decapitate it with my sword, carefully avoiding the nasty spray of goop this time. Cutting off the head is the only way to kill most demons.

Blowing out a breath of relief, already thinking about the pasta and ice cream I’m going to devour when I get home now that the job is done, I search for the vial of antidote in my corset. I need it for the poisoned wounds I got on my left forearm and my thigh. If the poison gets into the bloodstream and to the heart, it will kill a normal human instantly. Luckily, my hellseeker blood gives me an extra twenty-four hours.

I bring the antidote to my lips, when my skin breaks out in goosebumps all over my body. An ominous feeling unfurls in the center of my chest.

Something isn’t right.

The temperature suddenly drops as currents of awareness zip down the ladder of my spine from the roots of my hair all the way down to my toes, and a heaviness settles in the depths of my stomach. That’s when I turn my head and look toward the lake. Jaw slack, I do a double take because I can’t believe what I’m seeing.

No…it…it can’t be.

Right above the center of the lake, a black line appears out of nowhere, as if someone took a blade and sliced into thin air like it isn’t immaterial. The tear starts transforming with the speed of light into a gaping hole that seems to suck all the light around it, like a vortex of hopelessness and despair.

No fucking way.

Did someone just open a portal to Hell?

Surely, the ravenger’s poison is stronger than I think, and it’s giving me some sort of a waking fever dream. As I try coming up with a different explanation for what I’m seeing, the onyx stone in the choker around my neck starts pulsating. It burns my skin like a piece of hot coal.

The air feels heavy, almost unbreathable, as if what I assume to be a portal sucks all the oxygen around it along with the light. The stars aren’t visible anymore, and everything goes deadly silent. The rustling of the wind in the leaves, the lonely howl of a wolf in the distance, and the playful song of nightingales and cicadas, gone. The indecision of my next actions pins me in place with my mouth agape, staring at the jagged circle of doom.

Suddenly, the air crackles with lighting, and a strong wind starts out of nowhere as multiple shadowed flying figures enter through the tear, headed straight at me with unnatural speed, even for demons.

I have never encountered this type of demon before, but based on their speed and the way they look alone, it’s pretty clear these shadow demons would be extremely hard to kill. And facing more than five on my own. Big no. I have to haul ass and fast.

The vial of antidote slips from my hand and drops to the ground as I start running, the broken shards of glass crunching under my boots. I have more at home; I just have to get there first. I take the phone out of the back pocket of my pants and try calling Grayson to send some reinforcements my way. He always answers his phone when a mission is given .

It goes straight to voicemail .

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!