Dead of Night (Hunters of the Dark #4) Page 18

Chapter Twelve

  Shanna looked up as Quinn mumbled in his sleep on the sofa next to her, his feet pressed up against her thigh. She watched him for a moment in the bright sunlight the curtains let in, the wind stirring his hair after sending the curtains into a momentary frenzy. Not surprisingly, his forehead was sweaty and he was twitching, like he was having a nightmare. She recalled that his life had been turned upside-down just weeks ago, even if it seemed like he’d been with them for a long time already. Memories of what had been done to him, and his family right before his eyes, weren’t going to go away so soon. A thread of guilt worked its way through her chest as she paused to think about how he’d been so nice to her after what Cameron had done to her, trying to rouse her from the self-induced stupor she’d been in. She really owed him, and had to be more thoughtful about seeing to his needs too. He still needed someone as much as she did, and she shouldn’t lose herself in her own grief selfishly while he was suffering as well.

  Sighing, she turned back to the book in her lap. She’d just found the part on Jocasta Demons, which were the orange creatures in blue robes that had destroyed her life. It seemed that Jocasta Demons were one of the tamer types out there, usually steering clear of humans, unless they needed the power that a sacrifice of blood could give them. They were minor demons, often in the employ of a higher demon. Many of them worked for demons not of this plane, who wished to cross over into our world, requiring sacrifices to do so.

  Sacrifices like my parents, Shanna thought bitterly, reading on. She frowned as she read the next part aloud. “Jocasta Demons use the blood of vessels that have been touched by magick, but are not magickal themselves. For instance, they would spill the blood of the mother of a necromancer, but not the necromancer himself, as this will bond, by blood, the power of the necromancer to whichever demon they have offered their sacrifices to. The necromancer will therefore be tied to the demon, his living blood giving it the power to break through to our realm, and will not be able to slay the demon that killed his mother, for he has, in essence and through his blood, been the one to summon it in the first place.”

  She looked up, a faraway look in her eyes. Her parents had been murdered because of her. The demons had felt her power and been drawn to her house, like Rangda said. It was her fault.

  “It’s not your fault,” Quinn said softly beside her.

  Shanna started and put a hand to her chest. “Jesus, Quinn.’

  “Sorry,” he offered her a lopsided grin as he shifted into a sitting position. “But it’s not. It was those demons.”

  “Who I killed.”

  Quinn nodded, then tilted his head. “But you didn’t kill the demon they summoned. The one your parents were killed for. The one that, apparently, crossed into our world because of the magick running through your veins.” He frowned. “Speaking of, what magick do you have?”

  Shanna sighed. “I can understand any language I hear, apparently, and I have strange visions.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, honestly. Maybe more. I have no clue.”

  He seemed to absorb that. “Well, it seems to me that you need someone to help you kill this higher demon.”

  Shanna looked up sharply. “I don’t need…”

  “You said it yourself,” Quinn interrupted her. “You won’t be able to kill the demon who murdered your parents. Because your blood belongs to him.”

  Looking away, Shanna nodded stiffly. “Maybe.”

  “I can help you.”

  She shook her head, then turned to face him. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  He smiled tightly. “But I will do it. If you do the same for me.”

  Frowning, she watched him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I want you to help me track down the bastards who killed my parents, my girlfriend. The ones who tortured me. I need closure too. I can’t stand the thought that they got away, that they’re out there right now, maybe doing the same thing to someone else. The things they did, Shanna. You couldn’t…” He choked on his words. “They mutilated them, made them suffer. They can’t be allowed to live after what they’ve done.”

  Shanna nodded, knowing exactly how he felt. “Of course I’ll help you,” she whispered.

  “Really?”

  She watched his hopeful face and couldn’t help but grin. “Really.”

  “Good.” He looked relieved. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but…it just wasn’t the right time.”

  “I’ve been…I haven’t been a very good friend lately.”

  Quinn scoffed and put a hand on her knee, squeezing it. “You had your own stuff to deal with.”

  “But I’m here now,” she told him. “I promise. What happened won’t happen to me again. I’ll deal better.”

  He nodded. “Good.” They smiled at each other for a moment before he licked his lips and glanced away. “The one who did most of it, the one who forced me to watch as she…hurt them…all while the others laughed and taunted me, I have to stop her.”

  “What can you tell me about her?”

  Quinn looked far away for a moment and Shanna put a hand on his knee, earning a grateful smile. “Sorry, it’s…something I’d rather forget, but I can’t,” he said. He was quiet for nearly a minute then, and Shanna wondered what terrible things he was remembering. She recalled finding him naked, chained to a wall, facing impossible cruelties, the mutilated bodies of people he loved displayed before him like trophies. She couldn’t imagine experiencing something so awful. It was a wonder he’d walked away from that as well-adjusted as he had. But, Shanna realized as she watched him struggle with himself, he was still very damaged from it. That experience would haunt him until the day he died.

  With a sigh, he continued. “Her name was Metrise. I think she fed off of their pain, and my horror, like a succubus. And she got off on making me…excited, during all of this.” He looked away and swallowed.

  “You don’t have to talk about it,” Shanna said quietly beside him, her heart constricting in her chest.

  Quinn shook his head. “She tortured us for days. I can spend a few minutes recalling details.”

  Shanna nodded encouragingly and grabbed his hand, wrapping it tightly in her own, but he hardly seemed to notice.

  “There were others, all women, but she was the one in charge. She looked human, except for when her wings came out of her back. They seemed to come from nowhere, and looked like a bat’s wings.”

  “Good,” Shanna prodded. “What else?”

  “She was brunette, maybe your height.” He shook his head and let out a breath. “I don’t know. It’s not like she told me where she lived.”

  Shanna nodded sympathetically. “But you know what? Creatures like that, we’re bound to see them in our line of work. They do terrible things and hang around other terrible people. We’ll come across her. I just know we will.”

  Quinn looked up and smiled weakly. “I hope so.”

  Shanna couldn’t shake the haunted look in his eyes as he related his ordeal to her. She wasn’t sure if she could help him track Metrise down with such limited information, but she owed it to him to try.

  “So,” Quinn said, sitting up and shaking off the emotions he’d been displaying. “Now, how do we find your demon?” He looked expectantly down at the book in her lap, obviously ready to change topics.

  Shanna watched him for a moment longer, then turned her gaze to the thick book as well. She scanned the page open in front of her, reading silently to herself, then moved on to the next page, a frown pulling at her face. “Damn.”

  “Damn?”

  She glanced up at him. “The demon they summoned can be identified based on markers at the site of sacrifice.” She closed her eyes, trying to envision the color of the dust they threw over her parents, the symbols they’d traced in the air, the words they’d chanted…but she couldn’t summon them. Maybe pink dust? Maybe they were tracing pentagrams?
But she couldn’t be sure. And she had to be, if she wanted to find the correct demon.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, frustrated. “I just don’t know.”

  Quinn sank into the sofa beside her. “There must be a way. The police report…”

  “The police ignored everything,” she said, bitterly. “If only I could remember. If only I could recall…” Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

  Quinn raised an eyebrow as she turned to him, suddenly excited again.

  “I know who can help me,” she told him, then frowned. “Oh.”

  “Oh, again?” He smirked. “Do you know someone or don’t you?”

  She nodded. “I do. I’m not sure he’ll want to help me. I was kind of a jackass to him before.” She shrugged. “But he can look into my mind, maybe pull out the exact images.”

  “Like a telepath?”

  “Exactly a telepath,” she confirmed, standing up. “Eric. He’s part of The Athena Corps. I met him yesterday at Incantations with Amelia and Jade.”

  Quinn nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

  She looked back at him with a frown. “You have to go to a party.”

  “Screw the party.”

  She chuckled. “I can handle this. I’ll take someone with me. You have a job to do.”

  Quinn looked dejected, but nodded. “I’ll have my phone on me. You just text me and I’ll come running.”

  “I know.”