CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: TOO EARLY
1262 Words
Lila POV
It’s early morning when we’re summoned to the courtyard. As I hide a yawn behind my hand, I scan the area slowly, a little disappointed when I find the throne empty.
I don’t know why I hoped the Prince would be sitting there. Maybe I wanted him to see me off on my first day.
Instead, it’s the male in the green robe who greets us.
And by greetings, I mean he snaps his fingers and orders everyone to gather in front of the throne.
Does the dude ever crack a smile?
I ignore the eyes of my fellow hunters cutting into me and follow in Caleb’s wake. He weaves through the crowd and folds his arms, glaring at the sour-faced male scanning everyone.
I think Caleb said his name was Aamon or something, and that he’s the Prince’s advisor.
While he counts heads, I look up to see a huge board hovering above the throne. Numbers, names, and locations shimmer on the screen in bold, bright-orange font.
I scan for my own name.
Ava Foster. Points: Zero.
Won’t stay like that for long, I think to myself with a wry grin.
Beside the points is a long list of wanted demons.
“Now that everyone’s here, let’s begin,” Aamon says, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing. He nods briefly at the screen. “This is where your progress during the Demon Hunter Trials will be recorded. The leaderboard contains everything you need to know. It will be synced to your tracker at all times and within all realms. Lose it and you will be disqualified, effective immediately.”
“There are five kinds of demons in total, each ranked from lowest to highest,” Aamon continues, still pacing with his hands behind his back. “The first level are known as fledglings. These demons are not very powerful and can be disposed of with weapons. The second level, however, is resistant to weapons, even silver bullets and blades, and must be eradicated using magical items.
Third and fourth levels are more difficult because they can look like humans and have their own magic. Anything from a three upwards should be handled by more than one team unless you want to die. The fifth level, while rare, can almost guarantee you a place amongst the top ten depending on your progress. Most level-five demons are handled by qualified demon hunters, and if you happen to come across one, stay out of the way.”
“Points will be earned for each demon you bring back, with extra ones given based on rank. Similarly, points will be deducted if you fail to capture your target.” He stops and turns to us. “I will now answer questions.”
He resumes pacing, eyes fixed on the ground. “In the Demon Hunting Trials: yes, you can die. Yes, it will be extremely painful. No, you cannot be brought back. Is this fair? Perhaps not. But dying is the risk one takes if one wishes to be amongst the winners.”
The thought of dying no longer fills me with fear like it used to.
Maybe it’s because I have no intention of dying until I’ve avenged my family.
Until victor has paid for what he’s done.
“Once you have chosen your mission, you may begin,” Aamon says, stepping aside.
Everyone immediately jolts into action. Caleb is one of the first to approach the board, tracker outstretched. He presses his screen, and casts three hundred and eighty-six transfers onto his device. The board updates with his name—and mine.
I scan my tracker, check the details, and grin when I read the location.
I’ve always wanted to visit there.
“Ready?” Caleb asks, his finger poised over his tracker.
I tuck mine into my back pocket and nod.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, partner.”
Caleb rolls his eyes and presses a button. A portal wraps around us.
Mission number one… I’m coming for you.
---
“Walking through creepy alleyways is definitely my idea of fun,” I grumble as I stomp after Caleb.
Creepy is an understatement.
The cobbled roads and narrow shops squeezed together would be quaint in daylight, but after dusk, the buildings cast eerie shadows that stretch around me.
So far, Edinburgh City, while beautifully historic, is giving total Ghost Hunters vibes.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
Caleb pauses inside the narrow alleyway. Slivers of moonlight catch his hair, making it almost silver.
“Yeah, I’m sure, songbird. And these aren’t ‘alleyways’. They’re closed," he corrects smugly, pointing to the sign above us.
The inscription reads Mary King’s Close—whoever the hell that is—and in the distance, strange clothing hangs from a wire stretched between buildings.
“Six hundred people were sealed up here and left to die. That’s some of their clothes. Pretty neat, huh?”
A shiver runs down my spine.
“Neat isn’t the word I’d use.” I hesitate, then ask, “What happened to them? Why were they sealed up?”
“I’ll give you a hint.” Caleb waves a hand over his face. A long beaked mask forms over it.
It looks familiar, but I can’t place it.
“The Black Death. Bubonic plague,” he says, like I should’ve known. “Did Leo get all the brains in your family?”
I glare at him.
“Ha ha. No.”
I peer into the close despite myself. A cold wind sweeps past, and I jump back.
“This place totally feels haunted.”
“Oh, the whole city is,” Caleb says cheerfully, the mask disappearing.
“It reminded me of a crow.”
“In fact, there’s even an underground city where more people were left to rot and die a slow, painful death. Wanna check it out?”
“Uhhh…” My mouth hangs open as I stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “I think I’ll pass. Shouldn’t we get on with the mission?”
But Caleb, clearly enjoying my discomfort, winds his hands around my waist and drags me deeper into the close.
A strangled protest escapes me as my claustrophobia kicks in.
“Let me go, you son of a b***h!”
He just laughs and keeps walking. The narrow walls close in, and I grab at his hands, trying to pry them off.
To my relief, he finally puts me down—but he closes the small space between us instead. My back hits the wall, and his minty breath fans my cheeks.
“You really brushed up on your history about this place, huh?” I ask, my heart thudding.
He glances down from my mouth and smirks, placing a hand beside my head.
“I take my job very seriously, songbird.”
His focus drifts back to my lips, and for a moment we just stare at each other.
The marks on his face glow faintly, and flecks of light shine in his narrowed eyes.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
The words kiss me echo in my mind.
Caleb isn’t looking at me like the annoying lovestruck kid from before.
There’s something heavier in his gaze now—desire, tension, something almost dangerous.
But then footsteps echo near the alley entrance.
He looks away instantly.
After a moment, his eyes return to mine and hold.
And I swear my heart is about to burst out of my chest.
- Writer
