Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“The second the demons realize we’re onto them, they might attack,” Antonio says, stepping right into his role as leader. Xavier eyes him curiously but doesn’t say anything. There’s no need to remind us all who really is in charge, after all.
“And stabbing them with these blades will kill them?” Devon asks.
“Maybe,” Antonio says. “The demon could jump before it has a chance to be killed. But the human it is possessing will definitely die. So, uh, try not to kill anyone if you can help it.”
“What used to be here?” I ask when we’re heading down the road. “Like years ago. I know Tent City was cleared out somewhat recently because of health issues, but it’s coming back. But before, something else had to be here.”
“This was mostly a residential area,” Xavier tells us. “It became industrial over the years, and was a rather good location too since it was close to the train tracks.”
“What about old buildings?” Leo asks.
“There are a handful of dilapidated houses and buildings dating back a century or so. This particular area was wooded until the early 1900s.”
“Who needs historians when you have vampires who have literally lived through history,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re like unofficially a historian by default, I suppose. How old does something need to be before it’s considered history?”
“I think one generation,” Leo answers.
“How do you know that?” Antonio asks him.
Leo shrugs. “I read. Sometimes.”
Xavier takes my hand in his as we go further down the road, going away from Uptown and towards the woods behind a park. I vaguely remember when the original Tent City was removed and wondering what was going to happen to all the people who resided there. The news reported it as a good thing, making it seem like the homeless people were going to be put up in hotels and given opportunities to change their lives.
Obviously not.
Now, the tents are set up a bit more sporadically and further away from the highway than before.
“It’s way too quiet,” Antonio whispers. “There’s not even crickets.”
“Demons are nearby,” I say and Xavier lets go of my hand so I can hold it up, sparking magic around my fingers. “I can feel them.”
“I believe there was a church over here,” Xavier says as we go off the road and head into the wooded area that separates a tennis court from a manicured field. Trash dots the land, and the lingering scent of garbage hovers in the air.
“Scared ground?” Devon asks. “Is that a real thing?”
“It is,” Antonio and I say at the same time. Right, I’m not the only one who knows about demons and hunting anymore. “If I were going to hide something from a demon, putting it on sacred ground would be one of my top choices.”
“You don’t think the sigil is buried here in Charlotte, do you?” Leo asks.
“I didn’t,” I reply. “But the ritual was done here. Maybe the location mattered as much as my blood.”
The dark outline of tents come into view as we walk further away from the road. Everything is quiet, and it’s not because everyone is asleep. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
“Demons are here,” I breathe quietly. “I can feel them.”
“I do, too,” Devon says. “It’s different than before.”
“The one at the camp was powerful. These aren’t,” I tell him and we all square up, ready to fight as we emerge into the wooded area. There are half a dozen tents here, yet no one comes out. Slowing, I look around, wondering what the hell is going on. I can sense the demons. Their evil energy hangs heavy in the air, pressing down on me like a smothering wet blanket draped over my head on a humid day.
The smell gets to me first, and then I realize it’s even worse than I could have imagined. There are bodies lying all over the place and the smell of death and decay is overwhelming.
“I don’t understand,” I rush out, hand going to my face to cover my nose. With the high heat and humidity earlier today, the rate of decomposition has sped up. Couple that with the fact that demonic possession burns through bodies and the innocent people before us have quickly been reduced to week-old roadkill left out in the hot North Carolina summer sun.
The demons are here alright, possessing bodies so far gone they’re not even a threat.
This feels like a trap.
“I think we should get out of here,” I say, confused at my own words tumbling out of my mouth. Never in my whole life as a hunter have I given into the feeling of wanting to get away from a bad situation. Humans are hard wired to get those bad feelings that tell us to avoid danger. I’ve always ignored them or overcame them.