Burning Bright (Ivy Granger) (32 page)

“Jinx wasn’t raped,” I said, shaking my head.

Arachne rolled her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if it was a full on rape or not,” she
said.  “And just so you know, Jinx is too fuzzy on the details to know exactly
what happened—that’s obvious.  But even if that incubus didn’t force sex on
her, what he did was still a form of rape.  It’s normal for Jinx to feel
violated.”

Mab’s bones.  Anyone who didn’t think a teenager could be
wise or profound had never met one.  Arachne was right about Jinx.  My best
friend had suffered a trauma and I was going to be there for her in any way
that she needed me until she was better again.

“Thanks, Arachne,” I said.  “I’m an idiot.”

“No you’re not,” she said, blushing.  “Just don’t ask her to
change her clothes and stuff with people standing around.”

I nodded and walked back over to Jinx and Forneus.  Sparky
was hamming it up, dancing like a drunk clurichaun, while Forneus tapped out a
beat with his sword cane.  Jinx even had a small smile on her face.

Ceff was gathering our things and cocked an eyebrow.  His
unspoken question was obvious. 
Everything alright?

I nodded.  It would be.

“Okay, everybody ready to hit the road?” I asked.  “I don’t
know about the rest of you, but I’m starving.  I’m thinking pizza delivery.”

“Pizzaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Sparky squealed, clapping his hands.

“I do not wish to intrude on your homecoming, but I will
walk you home,” Forneus said, holding out a hand to Jinx.

My friend ignored his offer and pulled herself to her feet.

“I’m not in the mood for pizza, but I’d rather not be here
when Kaye gets back,” Jinx said.

“That makes two of us,” I said.  “Come on.  Later Arachne!”

“Bye, take it easy,” she said, giving me a knowing look.

Yeah, this thing with Jinx was going to take time.  Good
thing I was in hiding.  We’d have plenty of time to hang out at the loft between
now and the solstice.

When we stepped out onto the sidewalk I tossed Humphrey a
smile and a wave.  I hesitated a moment then moved to walk beside Ceff, giving
Forneus room to slide into step with Jinx.  I was here for Jinx, but I was done
being overprotective.  Look at where that got us.

“May I be so bold as to inquire if you would have dinner
with me this evening?” he asked, falling into step beside Jinx.  “Or perhaps a
drink to celebrate your continued existence on this mortal plane?”

“No,” she said.

Forneus flashed Jinx a pained look, but nodded his head. 
God, even I felt sorry for him.  He’d saved her life, again, the truth of what
had happened in the basement of Club Nexus had come out, and he still didn’t
get the girl.

“Very well, if that is your wish,” he said.

“I’ve been asleep for days and I still have another dude’s
lip marks on my skin,” she said.  Forneus’ eyes widened.  Jinx wasn’t saying
no, just not now.  “I’m sure I look like crap.  Call me tomorrow.”

That was all the encouragement the demon needed.  Titania
save us all.

“You are a sight, indeed, a radiant vision,” he said.

“With this bed head?” she asked.

“Angels cry from the heavens with envy over your raven hued
locks,” he said.

I wanted to roll my eyes, maybe even throw up a little, but
Jinx had perked up, already looking better.  If it took a demon to bring my
friend back from the brink of death, and keep her safe, then I would keep my
trap shut…for now.   The guy had earned that much.

Plus, I’d learned my lesson.  As much as I felt compelled to
protect my friends, I had to respect Jinx’s wishes.  If she wanted to date a
demon, I wasn’t going to stand in the way.  He just better not hurt her, or all
bets were off.

I lingered behind, letting the two lovebirds saunter up
ahead.  Forneus was insisting on escorting Jinx home and though she protested,
I could tell her heart wasn’t in it.  The two walked side by side, their
fingers almost touching.

Yeah, I knew where Jinx’s heart was—it was being carried by
the well-dressed demon at her side.  She may have forgotten the kiss that she
and Forneus had shared back in Club Nexus’ basement, but she had always felt
passionately about the guy.  It had started as a love hate attraction, but
through his actions the demon had found a way to tip the scales in his favor.

I still didn’t completely understand her attraction to the
guy, but who was I to judge?  I was taking home a demon of my own.  Sparky
bounced along at my side, singing about pretty eyes and dancing flames with
childlike glee.  If you’d asked me yesterday if I’d befriend a demon, agree to
kill the most powerful witch in the city, or try to pull a fast one on The
Green Lady, I’d have said you were crazier than a
boo hag
who’d lost her
favorite skin.

I smiled and shook my head.    I guess you never can tell
what the future will hold—just another reason to have an open mind and
sharpened blades.  In Harborsmouth anything can happen.

C
eff barely
stirred as I rolled out from under his arm.  I stared at the ceiling and let
out a lengthy sigh.  I couldn’t sleep.

I slid out of bed, shrugged into my robe, and tiptoed out to
the kitchen.  I pushed aside a pile of empty pizza boxes and found the coffee
maker.  I could help Jinx clean this place up tomorrow.  Maybe she’d want to do
one of her obsessive-compulsive spring cleanings.  Normally, that would make me
cringe, but if scrubbing floors would bring us closer together and help my
friend heal then I’d do it in a heartbeat.

In fact, a house cleaning was a good idea.  We needed to
clear out the rest of our anti-demon charms.  I’d disengaged the door wards and
shoved the more deadly charms into our junk drawer, but that wouldn’t keep
curious hands safe—and Sparky sure was curious.  I bent over to peek at his
tiny form sleeping in a dog bed beside the couch.

I smiled at his squeaky snores.  Jinx always wanted a dog,
hence the dog bed that usually was the perch for a stuffed bulldog one of her
ex-boyfriends had given her.  Now the plush toy was gone and Sparky was
snuggled under a blanket, his floppy ears hanging over the sides of the bed.  I
had a feeling the little guy was here to stay.

Sparky wasn’t the only demon that might be spending more
time here at the loft.  Forneus had been good to his word and didn’t intrude on
our homecoming, but I knew he’d be visiting soon enough.  Whether I approved of
it or not, there was no denying the attraction between him and Jinx.

Yeah, getting rid of our anti-demon charms was definitely on
my to-do list.

I put on a pot of coffee and turned to the remains of my
leather jacket.  A trip to a clurichaun tailor for a new one was also on my
list.  The sight of my poor jacket brought tears to my eyes.  We’d been though
a lot together, that jacket and I.

I sighed and grabbed the jacket, setting it on the counter. 
I might as well empty out the pockets before tossing it out and sending it to
the big jacket heaven in the sky.

As quietly as I could, I dumped charms and weapons onto the
counter.  Turning the jacket inside out, I noticed a crinkle of paper where
something had slid down inside the lining.  I reached into the inner pocket, my
gloved fingers retrieving something small and square.  I pulled it out and held
it up to the light.

It was Jenna’s note, the one that Jonathan had slipped to me
at the Hunters’ Guild headquarters.  So much had happened since my trip to
Master Janus’ office, I’d forgotten all about it.

I unfolded the envelope, only to find a blank piece of paper
inside.  What the heck?  I held the note up to the light, turning it over in my
hands.  Had Jenna written a message in invisible ink?

The coffee maker beeped and I got up to pour a cup.  Maybe
I’d be able to figure things out with a clearer head.  I set the full cup on
the counter and it sloshed onto the paper.

“Damn,” I muttered, grabbing a towel.

I wiped up the coffee spill, but paused.  There were coffee
stains on the paper, giving me an idea.  If someone wanted to send me a message
that only I could read, how would they do it?

Coffee isn’t the only thing that leaves stains behind. 
Strong emotions leave their marks on items as well.

I took a deep breath and tugged off my glove.

“I hope I’m right about this,” I said.

I reached out and placed my bare hand on the paper.  The
room tilted and I gasped at the pain, but it was coming from my other hand. 
The hand was calloused from the constant use of a sword and blood dripped from
a gash in my palm.  I looked away from the blood and up into a familiar set of
eyes.

Jenna’s face stared back at me from a bathroom mirror.

“Hey, Ivy,” she said.  “I hope this works.  Otherwise, I
just slashed open my hand for nothing.”

Jenna’s wry grin made my heart race, or maybe that was her
heart racing.  Inside a vision, it’s often hard to tell the difference.

I felt metal scrape on bone and knew the nausea was all
Jenna’s.  She knew how my visions worked and she was using pain to leave a
strong enough imprint on the paper, a psychic message that only I could read.

Clever girl.

“They’re sending me away tomorrow,” she said.  “I don’t have
much time, but there’s something you need to know.”

Sweat beaded on her lip, and a sad smile tugged at her lips.

“There’s a war coming, Ivy,” she said.  “And the fae and the
undead will be at the center of it.  The Guild is already gearing up for the
coming war…I think my being sent away has something to do with that, but they
hold their secrets close.  I shouldn’t even be telling you any of this.”

She looked down at her bloodied hand, then up again.

“But you need to prepare,” she said.  “I don’t know when the
war will begin, but I may know where.  I overheard Master Janus arguing when I
came to his office earlier.  I never saw the other person, but a man’s voice
was demanding aggressive training for all young Hunters.  He claimed that the
first battle of the coming war would take place in Harborsmouth.”

My stomach twisted.

“Take care of my city, Ivy,” she said.  “Good hunting.”

I blinked and the mirror was gone.  I padded back to the
bedroom and slipped into bed, pulling Ceff close.  He stirred, a smile forming
on his lips.

“Hello,” he said.

I let my hand glide down his chest as I slid my body closer
to his.

“Hey,” I said.

Tomorrow may bring the world down on our heads.  War was
coming.  All the more reason to show those I cared about just how much I loved
them.  And I knew right where I’d like to start.

Coming in 2014

The first novel in the Hunters’ Guild
series

set in the world of Ivy Granger

Hunting in Bruges

By E.J. Stevens

Read on for a sneak preview.

Hunting in Bruges

I
’ve been
seeing ghosts for as long as I can remember.  Most ghosts are simply annoying;
just clueless dead people who don’t realize that they’ve died.  The weakest of
these manifest as flimsy apparitions, without the ability for speech or higher
thought.  They’re like a recording of someone’s life projected not onto a
screen, but onto the place where they died.  Most people can walk through one
of these ghosts without so much as a goosebump.

Poltergeists are more powerful, but just as single-minded. 
These pesky spirits are like angry toddlers.  They stomp around, shaking their
proverbial chains, moaning and wailing about how something (the accident, their
murder, or the murder they committed) was someone else’s fault and how everyone
must pay for their misfortune.  Poltergeists are a nuisance; they’re noisy and
can throw around objects for short periods of time, but it’s only the strong
ones that are dangerous.

Thankfully, there aren’t many ghosts out there strong enough
to do more than knock a pen off your desk or cause a cold spot.  From what I’ve
discovered while training with the Hunters’ Guild, ghosts get their power from
two things—how long they’ve been haunting and strength of purpose.  If someone
as obsessed with killing as Jack the Ripper manifests beside you on a London
street, I recommend you run.  If someone as old and unhinged as Vlad the
Impaler appears beside you in Târgoviște Romania, you better hope you have
a Hunter at your side, or a guardian angel.

The dead get a bad rap, and for good reason, but some ghosts
can be helpful.  There was a woman with a kind face who used to appear when I
was in foster care.  Linda wasn’t just a loop of psychic recording stuck on
repeat; this ghost had free will and independent thought—and thankfully, she
wasn’t a sociopath consumed with bloodshed.  Linda manifested in faded jeans
and dark turtleneck and smelled like home, which was the other thing that was
unusual about her.  Most ghosts are tied to one spot, the place where they
lived or died.  But Linda’s familiar face followed me from one foster home to
another.  And it was a good thing that she did.  Linda the ghost saved my life
more than once.

Foster care was an excellent training ground for self
defense, which is probably why the Hunters’ Guild uses it as a place for
recruitment.  Being cast adrift in the child welfare system gave me plenty of
opportunities to hone my survival instincts.  By the time the Hunters came
along, I was a force to be reckoned with, or so I thought.

The Hunters’ Guild provides exceptional training and I soon
learned that attempts at both offense and defense were child’s play when
compared to our senior members.  I didn’t berate myself over that fact; I was
only thirteen when the Hunters swooped in and welcomed me into their fold.  But
learning my limitations did make me painfully aware of one thing.  If it hadn’t
been for Linda the ghost, I probably wouldn’t have survived my childhood.