The Demon Hunter (16 page)

“That's not fair!” Dean shouted. “How come it can hit back?” He vaulted onto one of the balconies, grabbed a table-sized chunk of staircase, and hurled it down at the creature. It struck the Nagual in the chest, but passed right through, the creature instantly re-forming.

It turned toward Emalie and swiped. She blinked out of sight and reappeared a few feet away, swinging her sword and connecting with the Nagual's paw just as it passed. There was a crunch of blade against claw, and the Nagual reared back and screamed in rage.

“That works!” she shouted, but was immediately slammed by another blow and thrown into the air, plunging into the tropical pool.

“Dean!” Oliver shouted. “Keep it busy!”

“Great!” Dean replied. “No problem!”

Oliver scrambled across the ruins, angling toward Emalie, who was dragging herself up from the water.

The Nagual had turned toward her, fangs bared, and Oliver leaped high, swinging his sword at its head. The sword connected with its skull in a vicious clang. The creature roared in rage.

Oliver landed and turned to see it spinning toward him, but Dean hurled a heavy, metal theater seat and connected with its head. “Here, kitty!” Dean shouted. The creature staggered, spun, and flew up onto the balcony in a jet of smoke. “Uh …” Dean turned and leaped up to a higher one.

Oliver reached Emalie as she was getting to her feet, her clothes dripping.

“You okay?”

“Fine. You?” she asked heavily, pushing soaked hair from her eyes.

“Yeah.” Oliver looked over at Bane, still lying unconscious on the rubble. “Is that really him?”

“Yeah, I think this memory is where the Nagual has been keeping him captive,” said Emalie. “We need to get him out of here.”

“Back to the spot where we entered?”

“I think so.” Emalie started climbing toward Bane.

“Whoa!” They looked up to see Dean tumbling through the air along with the crumbling remains of a high balcony, the Nagual diving after him. He landed hard on the balcony below, but jumped to his feet. “Can we
go
now?” he shouted at Emalie and Oliver.

They reached Bane and knelt beside him. “Bane,” said Oliver. “Wake up.”

Bane stirred, wincing.

“We have to get you out of here.”

One eye squinted open, and Bane regarded Oliver. “What are you doing in here?” he said groggily.

“We're here to rescue you from the Nagual.” Oliver started pulling Bane up by the arm.

“Just leave me here, bro,” Bane groaned. “What's the point.… This is where it all ended, anyway.…”

Oliver didn't know what he was talking about. “No, Bane, we're getting you out. You've been tricked by Half-Light, set up, and they're coming for you.” He pulled Bane to his feet.

They scrambled back across the wreckage, toward the hallway they'd entered from. Dean dropped to the floor beside them. “Going? Great!”

There was an earsplitting hiss, and the Nagual landed right in front of them, blocking their way, claws and fangs bared.

“Here.” Oliver pushed Bane against Dean and lashed forward with his sword. The Nagual caught him in the side and leveled him. The sword clattered free.

“Now what?” Dean shouted. The Nagual blasted them with another spitting roar, and swiped at Emalie and Dean. They fell down in a heap, along with Bane. The Nagual pounced onto them, claws tearing.

“No!” Oliver jumped up, grabbing his sword and spinning to attack—when a brilliant red light blazed forth from beneath the Nagual. Oliver staggered back, throwing a hand over his eyes, practically blinded.

The creature lurched away, its eyes also blinking uselessly. Emalie stood up before it, and Oliver saw that she was holding Bane's limp hand. Her eyes had turned bloodred again, the pupils white. Red light radiated from her entire body, blazing so hot it was turning white.

“Get away, demon!” she ordered, and her voice was edged with piercing, high-pitched overtones. It sounded like three of her speaking at once, the others something more than human.

The Nagual looked confused, but then lashed out at her. Emalie swung her sword with her free hand, and it burned with white-hot light, digging into the Nagual's torso.

There was an explosion of light, fire, and swirling smoke, and Oliver's vision was completely overwhelmed. The Nagual screamed hideously.

“Leave this creature and this vampire!” Emalie's voice sounded barely like her own.

A swirling wind kicked up in the room. The Nagual's wail grew deafening.

Oliver fell to his knees, his eyes useless. The wind burned his face.

Then it died out. The light darkened.

Oliver,
he heard in his mind, and looked up. His vision was washed in green, dark at its edges, yet there was something still glowing brightly in front of him, a brilliant, warm light … human in form.
It's me
… Oliver thought he recognized the voice. From where? Then the light faded further and he saw the outline of Emalie within it. She was holding out her hand to him. Oliver felt confused. From the sound of the voice, he had expected someone else, but he couldn't quite place who.

He took Emalie's hand and got to his feet.

“I'm fine, really,” said Dean, stumbling over, blinking madly and holding Bane on his shoulder.

Oliver peered at Emalie. She looked like herself again, with a few loose strands of hair pulled from her braids. Her pupils had returned to black, yet her irises were still bloodred. “What did you do?” he asked.

Emalie glanced at Bane. “I channeled his demon, I think. I knew it from before … from the museum in Italy, and from the other night at the playground. So I just called to it, and told it to help me.”

“You
told
Bane's
vampyr
to help you?” Oliver asked incredulously. “And it listened to you? And you're alive?”

Emalie half smiled. “Seems like it. I don't really remember what I did after that, except that we both wanted that Nagual out of here … so we focused on that.”

“Okay,” said Oliver dumbly. She'd referred to herself and Bane's
vampyr
as “we.” Oliver had never heard of any such thing.

“Hey, let's figure all this out once we're out of here, huh?” said Dean.

“Right.” Oliver dropped his sword. He took one of Bane's arms, Dean took the other, and they made their way back to the hallway.

“Leave me here,” Bane mumbled weakly, barely keeping his feet beneath him.

“No,” Oliver replied curtly.

Emalie led the way down the hall. Oliver watched her, still baffled by what she'd just done.

And then he saw something he understood even less.

“Hold on.”

A glimpse of a familiar shape had caught his eye. Oliver reached toward the blasted-out, vine-covered wall. He peeled away the leafy growth. There stood a warped, faded wooden door. There was a Skrit carved into it, with only remnants of the original white paint still visible in its lines:

Oliver felt a rush inside, like a yawning wind. He'd seen this before.

“Here,” he said absently. “Hold Bane.” He turned the tarnished silver door handle and entered the room.

“I'll just wait here,” said Dean. “I've had enough of your brother's mind.”

Oliver heard Emalie's footsteps follow.

They entered a small, spare room. There was a desk covered in dust. An overturned office chair. The floor was strewn with books, all fallen off the shelves. On the back wall was a large, diamond-shaped window. Through its clouded glass, Oliver saw red lands and a starry, crystal black sky. There was a pyramid of gleaming jade in the distance. Lying nearby was the head of a huge, amethyst statue. It had gold eyes that gleamed like coins.

Oliver knew this room.

“Those stars,” said Emalie quietly. “Those are the constellations I made above my bed. Where is this place?”

“It's Nexia,” said Oliver. “There's a room like this in my head.” He stepped closer to the window. Except for the condition, everything about this room was the same. Only one thing was missing. He peered out the window in either direction. The Gate was nowhere to be found.

This is my place in your mind,
Illisius, Oliver's soon-to-be demon, had told him back in the winter. Was this where Bane's
vampyr
demon lived? But why a view of Nexia? Why the same symbol on the door?

“I don't get it,” Emalie began. “Oh …”

Oliver tore his gaze away from the plains of Nexia—it wasn't easy—to see Emalie looking down at her shirt. A bright streak of crimson had dripped onto her vest. When she looked up again, he saw a long gash across her chin.

“What happened?” he asked.

Emalie's eyes widened. “Outside … back with our bodies … something's there!”

“Ow!” Dean shouted from out in the hall. “Why does my head hurt?”

“We have to get out!” Emalie ran back into the hall.

Oliver longed to stay, to understand, but—his shoulder exploded in pain again, as if he'd been struck. He raced back into the hall and grabbed Bane's shoulder. They hurried back to the edge of the blasted-out window, and joined hands. Oliver got one last glimpse of the melee of police activity far below, and then everything dissolved in a swirl.

Oliver looked up to see the ceiling of the barracks house. He sat up, hearing a strange scraping sound like dirt moving—only to be slammed back to the ground.

The jaguar was lying motionless in the sand circle. Oliver spied Bane lying nearby, shivering. There was Emalie, sitting up. And there was Dean, flying across the room and slamming into the wall as if he'd been thrown. As he fell to the floor, he found Oliver. “Sorry!” he shouted.

“What?” Oliver asked, scrambling to his feet.

“Well,” said Dean. “I think I remember why Lythia had me coming to this place.”

Oliver turned and saw the source of the strange sound. The earth was moving. Now a rotten hand burst from the soil. Then another, clawing out. A head of dirt-matted black hair appeared, and then the face of the third jaguar victim, now a zombie, her eyes, nose, and mouth still full of soil.

“I think I buried these guys here,” said Dean. “My bad.”

Oliver heard thudding footsteps and looked up to see the second jaguar victim, now a zombie too, racing toward them.

Chapter 12

The Forgotten Graveyard

“EMALIE!” OLIVER SHOUTED.

“What?” said Emalie wearily, wiping at her bloody chin.

“Watch out!” Oliver dove past her. He caught the large, overweight zombie boy in the chest and tackled him to the floor. Oliver immediately jumped up and ran for Bane.

“Where are your swords?” Dean shouted.

“They only work in the jaguar!” Oliver replied, sliding to his knees beside Bane.

“Oh, great,” Dean muttered.

Oliver bent over his brother. “Come on! Bane, get up.”

Bane looked around weakly, but managed to get his feet beneath him.

“Dah!” Emalie shouted as the zombie girl grabbed at her. She jumped away and winked out of sight.

Oliver dragged Bane toward the rickety staircase. Dirty fingernails raked down his back. He turned to find the two zombies lurching toward him.

Dean jumped between them. “Hey, guys,” he said reasonably. “Let's not do this, okay? I know you guys are just raised and probably really hungry—I get that—but they're with me.”

The zombie girl grabbed Dean by the hair and tore a chunk out.

“Ow!” He shoved her across the room and spun around. “Okay, fine! Time to go!”

They scrambled up the stairs and found themselves in the abandoned barracks. Oliver helped Bane as they hurried down the hall toward the front door.

Suddenly the floor exploded, and the female zombie burst up into the room. She looked at Oliver, then sniffed at the air. “Brains …” she said hungrily.

“Oh come on,” Dean moaned. “You're giving us all a bad name.”

The zombie girl lunged to Oliver's side.

Guh!

Emalie popped back into view as the zombie fell on top of her. Like Dean, these zombies could see through enchantments.

Oliver reached for her, only to be sent staggering by a vicious blow from the zombie boy, lumbering down the hall behind them.

“Minions! Heel!”

Oliver looked up to see the front door of the barracks open. Tyrus and Lythia stood there.

“Back away,” Lythia ordered, and the two zombies retreated toward the wall, the girl snarling, the boy panting.

Tyrus stepped inside, avoiding the zombie-made hole in the floor. He surveyed Oliver and his friends with a frown. “Bane, I'll need you to come with me.”

Bane looked up through his wild hair. “Where?” he said weakly.

“Somewhere safe,” said Tyrus. “Somewhere you can recover.” Tyrus glanced at Oliver, then back to Bane. “We know what you were planning for Oliver. We know all of it. You need help.”