Demon Heart (The Darkworld Series Book 3) (4 page)

Ironically, Blackstone was probably safer than back home, despite its appearance―not just because, as a village in the middle of nowhere, the level of crime was practically zero, but also due to our proximity to the Venantium, who controlled the Barriers between our world and the Darkworld. The strengthened Barriers repelled demons so effectively that they couldn’t come close enough to manifest in the waking world―a great relief, since they followed me everywhere else I went. Not that they could harm anyone from the other side, but seeing sinister eyes everywhere? I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.

Cara, of course, knew nothing about this, although like my parents, she hadn’t missed how jumpy I’d become over the past year and a half, ever since the demons had first invaded my life. Speaking of, I needed to call my parents. I still hadn’t told them about Leo. Our weekly phone calls had turned into fortnightly ones, when one of us remembered. It made me feel a tad guilty for forgetting so often, but Dad often joked that he had a memory like a leaky sieve and Mum wasn’t much better. Half the time they even forgot my name, for crying out loud.

The fortune-teller’s tent wasn’t out at the market, but I saw it tucked away in a corner of the town square, where it usually stood when the market wasn’t on―invisible to most eyes. She’d put a level of subliminal magic—or Influence—on it, which meant only people she
wanted
to see it could find it; in other words, me and the other members of our little group.

I wondered, again, what she’d been doing at the Blackstone house. Not that it would do any good to ask. That woman traded in questions, not answers.

When we’d finished checking out the market stalls, I took Cara to the Art Gallery, since we could get in for free. The grand brick building crouched at the top of a set of concrete steps. The town’s cathedral towered over it, looking like something out of a Victorian Gothic novel, all black spires and towering roofs.

“What the hell?” said Cara. “That’s some freaky giant bird.”

A large black shape perched on one of the cathedral’s spires. It looked birdlike from a distance, but I knew it to be a harpy, one of the Venantium’s spies. They didn’t usually fly this close―not in front of non-magic-users, anyway. Most ordinary people couldn’t see them except those extrasensitive to the paranormal, but I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me that Cara could.

She reacted exactly as I’d predicted to the gallery’s collection of Hell-themed paintings―by retreating as far away as possible. I had to admit, some of them were pretty gruesome, depicting people being torn to pieces by monstrous creatures from the abyss. They reminded me of the illustrations in the
Seven Princes
book Howard had “borrowed” from the Venantium’s library of ghouls and shadow-beasts. Hell, maybe the artists had drawn inspiration from real life.

Thinking about it, David had said that the painter was Melivia Blackstone. She seemed to be haunting me today.

We walked down to the coast afterwards, since Cara hadn’t believed we were that close to the sea. I chose a longer route rather than shortcutting through the cemetery as David and I had the first time I’d been here; I doubted Cara would appreciate that. She wasn’t overly pleased about having to walk through the mud again, either. I tried to lead her away from places where there was a risk of slipping over and into a thorny bush. Brambles and nettles grew everywhere, and the few grassy parts had absorbed the rainwater and turned into a spongy sort of swamp.
Maybe this isn’t my best idea.

But the path through the copse was the quickest way to the coastline other than going via the graveyard, and soon we heard the rushing of waves. Calmness settled around us, disturbed only by faint birdsong and the rustle of tiny life in the undergrowth.

The tide was in today, and the waves crashing on the rocks sent a fine, salty spray over our heads. At this point the bay curved around, and I could just make out the cliffs on the other side. I squinted, frowning. I swore I saw a figure standing on the distant precipice.

The waves crashed down again, and goose bumps rose on my arms as I squinted as the shape. Not a person. A dark space. I felt it, prickling at my skin, creeping down my spine. The Darkworld had been opened. And something hovered in front of the space.

“Ash?”

I stared at the cloud of pitch-dark birds flying over the sea from the dark space.

Harpies.

I’d never seen so many at once―I’d never even seen them come from the Darkworld. The ones the Venantium used lived more or less permanently in our world, or so I’d thought.

The screeching, wheeling flock headed right towards us.

“Let’s go,” I said, barely managing to keep my voice even, and backed up into the woods again.

“What’s up?” said Cara.

“We can’t get down to the beach. The waves are too close. We’d better head back.”

“Why’d you even bring me here, then?” Cara grumbled at me, but at least she turned away and began to walk back, swearing as her feet stuck in the mud. With one last uneasy glance at the flock of harpies, I led the way back through the copse.

Instinctively, I pulled out my phone to text Leo, and when it buzzed in my hands, I almost dropped it. The message was from Leo.

Shit’s going down at the V HQ. I’m going there with Cy. Sorry I can’t meet ur friend
―
next time? xx

Great. Now Cara had another reason to be annoyed with me.

But she took it pretty well, being more concerned with getting the mud off her shoes once we got back to the flat. She didn’t ask any awkward questions, thank the gods, making me wonder if she’d seen the harpies at all.

I just wished I could be open with her.

But it looked like there were bigger problems than that. Trouble at the Venantium’s Headquarters… It couldn’t be coincidence that I’d just seen so many harpies on the move.

Something’s wrong.

didn’t get to find out what had gone down in the Venantium’s Headquarters until Monday. I texted Leo on Sunday to make sure he was okay, but he replied saying he couldn’t tell me anything over the phone in case someone was listening in. Considering weirdos kept sending me cryptic messages, it was probably a good call―but it bothered me all the same.

I probably looked a mess on Monday morning, after another sleepless night, but this completely went out of my head as Leo pulled me into a hug and kissed me so hard I practically lifted off my feet.
Holy wow.

“Okay,” I said when I got my breath back. “What’s going on with the Venantium?”

“You want to know now? Or we could do more of this.” He kissed me again.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” I said, but the smile on my face didn’t make me sound particularly convincing. Alex and Sarah pushed past on their way out the flat, making mock-gagging sounds.

“Very mature,” I said, shaking my head, and started to walk through the student village.

“First Monday lecture I’ve made all term! You should be proud,” Leo said.

“Glad I’m a good influence.” I slowed my pace, making sure Alex and Sarah were well out of earshot. “Come on, tell me what’s happening. I’ve been going crazy.”

“It isn’t anything major,” said Leo. “They’re just being paranoid idiots. Basically, one of their demon hearts has gone missing. They think it’s been stolen.”

“Demon hearts?” I said. “They have demon hearts?”

“Only from dead demons. They keep them in a safe underground in case a sorcerer tries to use them again. Some of them still have magical energy trapped within them. But it’s just paranoia, really, they’re pretty harmless.”

Harmless
and
demons
―not two words I’d usually put together. A demon’s heart, also known as an anchor, bound a summoned demon to its host, and through that, to this world. Most rogue sorcerers used a precious stone as the anchor because they could store magical energy, becoming power sources which drew demons like intense magnets. When the demon attached itself to the magical source and possessed someone, the stone became fixed in position in the centre of the host’s forehead, like a third eye. The only way to send a demon back to the Darkworld was to destroy the heart―generally by burning it with magical fire. But demons couldn’t die, so I guessed it made sense that their hearts would remain in this world even after they’d left their host behind.

“Do they have any idea who took it? I mean, it couldn’t be…”

Who? Jude might have been a murdering maniac, but he was gone. Was there another traitor? I wondered about the group to which Jude had belonged, the so-called Righteous, who believed that those with a strong connection to the Darkworld, such as people who suffered from the Vampire’s Curse, deserved to be punished by death. Jude had taken it upon himself to root out these “vampires” himself by pretending there was a cure. It was twisted beyond belief―and I couldn’t believe no one in the Venantium had had any clue what was going on.

Leo looked thoughtful but shook his head. “Well, they’ve got a lot of interrogations on the go. Pretty much everyone who knew Jude has been questioned. They’re tearing themselves apart to find any hint of a traitor; it’s no wonder they’re misplacing things.”

“So why did you and Cyrus have to go there?”

“Well, the heart was one of the demons Melmoth killed, so they wanted to check we didn’t know anything about it. But it was before I was born. I’ve never met Mephistopheles.”

“Isn’t that the name of Satan’s second-in-command in
Doctor Faustus
?”

“No one ever said demons don’t have a sense of humour. But this one was around twenty years ago, so neither Cy nor me would know about it. It was during Lucifer’s attack on the Venantium.”

Lucifer.
The fortune-teller had said that the Venantium were secretly afraid that this sorcerer, Lucifer, would be making another attack. Supposedly, he’d been hiding in the Darkworld for years, an idea that still confounded me. Usually when a sorcerer used that rare magic that separated their spirit from their body and allowed them to enter the Darkworld, they were stuck there for eternity. But if the fortune-teller was worried Lucifer could return, then it must be a possibility…

“Weren’t the harpies guarding it or anything?”

“They lost a lot of harpies in the Skele-Ghoul attack. I don’t think they ever expected anyone to go down there, anyway. They’re not great at guarding the library, either.”

“But these are
demon
hearts we’re talking about!”

“Dead demon hearts. They’re supposedly harmless. Trust me, they’re just trying to make up for that total failure with Jude and the Skele-Ghouls.”

I looked at him suspiciously. “Sure you aren’t just saying that?” Leo was rarely as offhand as he pretended to be.

Leo shrugged. “Best not to worry about it until it attacks us.”

Nothing attacked us during the lecture, thankfully, although even a demon would probably have steered clear of the lecturer’s rambling monologue on Victorian religious poetry.

We ran into Claudia, who looked rattled, on the way out. “There’s a problem,” she said.

“What?” I said, my heart automatically beating faster.

“Nothing serious… Well, I hope not.” We moved away from the growing crowd leaving the lecture theatre, into an alcove. “The
venators
are tightening security, and they’re doing a full check of everything in their inventory. Including the library.”