The Demon-Eater: Hunting Shadows (Book One, Part One (10 page)

He glanced at Renette,
sitting frail and hunched over in a plush chair set several feet
from where Gabriel sat, as though he were plagued by some
contagious disease.
I did consume a demon
right in front of her,
he told himself. She
was frightened of him and he did not like that, but he could not
resent her for it.

His eyes wavered on the young woman a
moment.

With her tear-streaked face drained of
color, and her reddened eyes fixed on some distant point in front
of her, she looked almost like a plaintive ghost in a trance.

Or just a mourning
daughter,
Gabriel told himself, eyeing her
blood-stained hands and ballgown. She did not even seem to notice
the blood.

“
Everything,” she whispered, finally, in a voice which was
barely audible. Gabriel frowned as he looked at her—this person who
had seemed so strong for one so young when they had first spoken,
but who now looked so very small. The frown was directed toward
himself, however.

I expected to care
more,
he realized, turning back to the
contents from the safe.

In truth, he
was
troubled by the
duke's death. Troubled that the demons had, again, outdone him. If
he could not save even one nobleman, how was he ever going to
succeed in killing hundreds of immortal monsters? Tonight he had
only succeeded in adding another voice to the rumble in his head,
and he still did not even know where to start to look for a way to
kill them.

Perhaps, there is no way
to kill them,
he thought. Even through his
doubts, he knew the thought was a lie. There was a way to kill the
demons. He did not know how he knew it to be true, he only knew it
was. The answer, whatever it was, felt like it was just out of
reach, like an object laying right in front of him, over which his
eyes had passed multiple times already. And he was getting no
closer to seeing it.

Gabriel glanced over at Renette once more,
realizing his mind had strayed from the dead duke and back to
killing the demons almost just as soon as the duke had entered his
mind. It felt...wrong...that he should care so little about a man's
death.

She is fatherless
now,
he told himself. He felt
nothing.

Gabriel forced the shame away, delving
deeper into the stack of papers, pulling from it a large envelope.
It was addressed to no one. How had he missed that in all his
searches?

Is this what he wanted me to find?

Gabriel ripped open the envelope. Perhaps,
he would uncover something useful inside. Something that could help
him find a way to kill the demons, hopefully. After all, there had
to be a reason the demons were after the nobles. Maybe they knew
something everyone else did not.

Gabriel reached inside, pulling out a
passport and a folded piece of paper. He tossed the passport aside
onto the table, turning his attention to the folded paper. It felt
heavier than it should have been and when he unfolded it a smaller,
wax-sealed envelope fell from within. He picked up the wax-sealed
envelope in one hand, then skimmed over the cramped writing on the
paper in the other.

To my dear little Ren,

If this letter should still be intact, then
it will have meant I have been killed. You must be confused as to
why I have been killed, or why I had expected it. Suffice it to
say, things are in motion and other noblemen will continue to be
assassinated by...things. So far Petars and Placent have been
killed, and I believe these “things” are targeting specific members
of the aristocracy. I cannot explain why I think this, because I do
not want you involved in the things we have gotten ourselves
involved in.

I am sorry, Renette, for leaving you
behind.

Take a few of the guards and depart from our
manor as soon as you are able. My good friend, Charles Tharker,
will be happy to take you in. If something should have befallen my
friend—Father Truth forbid—, go to another acquaintance of mine in
the Northern Region, who goes by the name Grey. Grey is not civil
in the way you are used to, but will keep you safe.

Furthermore, you have no need to worry for
your mother. I have seen to it that she will be well taken care of
upon my death.

The address to Grey's is written below—if
that should be the route you take. And, of course, you know the way
to Charles's. I have provided the necessary passport required for
passage into the Northern Region. There is, also, another envelope
for your eyes only, my daughter. Whatever happens, never let it out
of your sight.

Being dead, I have no other choice but to
trust that it is you, my daughter, who holds this letter now. If it
should be another, know that it is crucial in the utmost that you
see my daughter to safety. I ask that you respect a dead man's
wishes and ensure my daughter receives the sealed envelope. More is
at stake here than you could possibly understand....

With all my love to you and hope in Father
Truth,

Your Father

Gabriel leaned back in his
chair, more than a little disappointed at the vagueness of the
letter. At least, now, Gabriel knew the attacks on the nobility
were not so random after all. Even so, he was still in the dark
about the
why
of
the matter. Were the demons killing these particular nobles,
because they were looking for something? Did whatever was inside of
the sealed envelope pertain to that?

If the demons are looking
for something,
Gabriel thought,
then why are they making such a show of killing
the nobility? Why aren't they killing in secret?

Gabriel consciously forced the questions
away. He was not an investigator. Whatever the demons were
planning, it was none of his concern. He did not want it to be. His
goal was not to save, it was to kill. And the questions distracted
from that. Besides, if he could hunt the demons down, find a way to
kill them, the nobility would have nothing more to worry about
anyway.

Gabriel looked to the sealed envelope,
having fallen from the folded letter. The wax seal did not bear the
insignia of House Bawdlin. This insignia—two, overlapping circles,
forming a sideways eye where they overlapped—itched at Gabriel's
memory.

For a moment, Gabriel was in that terrible,
bright corridor, white-clad figures in face masks bustling about
him. He squeezed his eyes shut and it flickered away.

Taking a deep breath, he
turned his attention back to the sealed envelope. He pressed his
thumbs against the seal, preparing to break it. Perhaps he would
find answers inside. But he wavered. As he stared at the seal of
the envelope, the voices of the
others
had become eerily silent. He
found it strangely uncomfortable.

After a few moments, he breathed out a
breath he had not realized had been pent up.

No
, he thought lifting his thumbs from the seal.
I don't want those answers.
Whatever was inside was for Renette's eyes, anyway. He had
gone numb to death over the years, but he had not lost his decency.
Still...

Gabriel slipped the
envelope into a pocket on the inside of his tailcoat.
I won't open it, but—whatever it is—it's safer
with me.

He rose from his seat then, swiping the
passport and letter up from the table. He paused, his eyes drifting
toward Renette, still sitting with her eyes fixed on that distant
point. Upon her lap, her bloodied hands trembled. Hort wanted his
daughter seen to safety.

Come and get us,
Demon-Eater,
the voices started up again.
Challenging him.

She's not my
problem,
he thought, then started
away.

I'm giving up on
you,
a single voice whispered. Gabriel
stopped.
I'm giving up on you, because you
forgot.

Forgot?

Gabriel turned back to Renette. Her wide
eyes drifted his way, finally moving from whatever they had been
fixed upon, and remained on his. Reddened and swollen from her
previous crying, her eyes were surprisingly firm, fixed on Gabriel
now. Her eyes were...

“
Her...eyes...” Gabriel whispered to himself, as Renette's gaze
slid down to the floor after a moment. He pulled out his sheet of
paper from within his tailcoat and set it down on a nearby table.
He got out a pencil and began to sketch out two sideways ovals,
over the words he had written there.

When he was finished, he
set the pencil aside. The faceless woman stared up at him. His
sketching was not beautiful, for he was no artist, but it was
accurate.
True.
And, now, the faceless woman had eyes.
Her
eyes were unwavering and kind all
at once.
Her
eyes
were knowing and penetrating and lovely. And Gabriel remembered
them.

He turned back to the young woman,
Renette.

“
She has her eyes,” he whispered. Then smiled
faintly.

“
The older man,” Gabriel began slowly, “the one who... That was
Charles Tharker?”

The young woman looked up from the floor.
She nodded. That eliminated him then.

“
Your father wanted you safe,” Gabriel continued, walking
toward Renette. She flinched as he outstretched a hand to give the
passport and the duke's letter to her. She eyed the letter,
eventually taking it, and the passport, with reluctant slowness.
“He mentioned in the letter that he arranged for your mother to be
taken care of. Is she...not well enough to travel with
you?”

Renette shook her head.

“
Well, she will be safe here, then,” Gabriel said. “Guardsman,”
he called, causing another flinch from Renette.

The guard—the one who had charged the Skin
Crawler—entered into the library a second later; he had been
standing just outside the door. Clearly unsure as to what protocol
called for when standing before someone like Gabriel, the guardsman
gave an awkward salute.

“
Sir?” the guard said in a firm voice. Gabriel thought he must
have be hiding how shaken up he was rather well.

“
You're all right?” Gabriel asked.

“
Yes, sir. Only a nasty bruise.” The guardsman rubbed the side
of his face, his left cheek a swollen circle of purple and black.
“Brute had a nasty backhand,” he chuckled hollowly. His eyes took
on a distant look. “It was supposed to work. Lord Hort breaks
himself free long enough for me to fell the sorry sap trying to
hold him. We practiced it dozens of times. It was supposed to
work...”

Gabriel laid a hand on the man's shoulder.
He felt the guardsman go tense at his touch.

“
You did your best,” Gabriel said. “Better than most against
one of those things.”

“
And what exactly
was
that bloody thing? Er...my lord.”

“
Just another kind of monster,” Gabriel said. “Listen, I think
it's better we leave some monsters forgotten about.”
Especially if it's attention they
want.

The guardsman shook his
head, blowing out a heavy breath. “Lord Hort was a good man,” the
guard said. “He didn't deserve to be... Not like
that
.”

The filthiest criminal
does not deserve to be killed by one of those things,
Gabriel thought, removing his hand from the man's
shoulder.

“
I
was supposed to be there,” the guardsman continued. “I
failed—”

“
Guardsman,” Gabriel interrupted, “you can't afford to think
about what happened, and you can't afford to blame yourself. The
duke wrote that he wanted his daughter seen safely to an
acquaintance of his in the Northern Region. Somewhere in Summerton,
the address said in the letter. Grey will be his name. Can you do
that? Can you escort the Lady Renette to safety.”

The guardsman wavered. “I
couldn't even
touch
Lord Charles—or, the monster...whatever
he...
it
...was. If
something like that comes for—”

“
Listen to me,” Gabriel said in a stern voice. He glanced over
toward Renette—who did not even seem to notice them—and continued
in a lower voice. “Those
monsters
won't be after Lady Renette. I have been following
their movements. They go after the hosts of random balls
and...well, you saw it. They will be after some other lord throwing
another ball—if there are any left who are brave enough to do so—,
by now. You have a duty to this family, guardsman. And the daughter
is still alive and well. I ask again: Can you get her to
Grey's?”

The guard stared hard into Gabriel's own
eyes. For the first time, Gabriel paid enough attention to the man
to realize the guardsman was probably several years older than
himself. And he was speaking to him as though he were a boy.

“
It was never a question of duty, lord,” the guardsman said. He
nodded after a few seconds. “I can do it. I'll gather up a small
team of men and we'll see her to Grey's. I'll see her to everywhere
she goes.”

Gabriel smiled wanly. “Good,” he said, then
turned his attention back to Lady Renette. Frail Lady Renette. “I
know it is soon for you,” he said to her, “but you really must make
haste. Your guardsman here will—”