Hunted

“Shoot out the dagger’s special rays?” Sykes added.

“What if your powers ebb when you are fighting a demon?” Kim added.

“Come on, guys,” Bran protested. “Leave her alone.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “If my powers disappear, Kim, I can still fight. If that fails, you guys can protect me just like you did on the island, just like I would protect you if something were to happen to your powers.” Kim made a face. “But if my presence bothers you, I can stay at home.”

“No,” several voices protested.

Bran cocked a brow. “Kim?”

Kim glared at him then the others. “I didn’t say I wanted her to stay behind.” She smiled at me. “I’m used to having you and the dagger as our safety net. It’s a bit weird to go out knowing that net is gone.”

Surprised she hadn’t said something mean, I smiled back and patted the hilt of the dagger. “We might not be able to link, but we are both here.”

Everyone laughed, and tension leached out of the room.

Bran stood. “Okay, let’s do this. We’ll start with our first stop.” He pulled a clairvoyant blue crystal from his inner coat pocket, placed it on the table and activated it by waving his hand above it. An image shot from the core and hovered above the table. “We usually do this before we leave so we can choose entry position,” he explained, glancing at me.

“Have I been here before?” I asked while studying the medium-sized house with overgrown lawn and weedy flower beds. “I don’t recognize it.”

“No, this is where Mrs. Watts is hiding. She was reluctant to cancel her contract when we visited her a week ago in Myrtle Beach. That was the night we first encountered one of the Tribe demons. We couldn’t see her again after that because of the lockdown. Mrs. D’s team found out she’d moved and just located her this morning.”

“She’s definitely slumming,” Izzy said, nodding at the holographic-like image.

“She didn’t want to be found.” Bran’s gaze swept everyone. “I know you guys would rather skip going after her and the other Runners and just start searching for the Summoners, but Mrs. D expects a report.”

“And the Watts will be off our list,” Sykes added with a knowing smirk.

“True,” Bran said with a slight smile. “But I also want to see if seeing Mrs. Watts triggers Lil’s memory. Any question?”

I couldn’t wait to leave. Being cooped up in the room with the others was slowly driving me crazy. What part of “don’t feel sorry for me” didn’t they get?

- 6 - MRS. WATTS

We appeared behind a walled fence. A barking dog alerted an elderly couple walking down the narrow street of our presence, and they eyed us suspiciously. Six teens in trench coats in the middle of summer in L.A. were bound to draw attention.

Ignore us, I projected into their thoughts.

They continued with their walk, but when I turned around, the others were watching me like they expected me to do something crazy.

“Will you guys think of something else? The Summoners, demons, Mrs. Watts, anything,” I said through clenched teeth. “Just stop stressing about me. Look at them,” I pointed at the couple. “I just told them to ignore us and their heads didn’t explode.”

Bran’s energy brushed against mine and I exhaled. No matter how much I loved that he could excite or calm me down with a touch, he really shouldn’t allow his energy near mine until my powers were stable.

Squinting against the sun, I started up the slabs leading to the front entrance of Mrs. Watts’ home. The clairvoyant image had been kind. Plywood—or possibly cardboard—covered some of the windows, as though she was in the process of boarding up her house for a hurricane or tornado. A lone hose snaked past untrimmed rose bushes and shrubberies, crossed the dry grass and ended in a plastic pool filled with dirty water and dead bugs. A van, its windows shattered, stood in the driveway.

My senses picked up a familiar energy. The more I tried to identify it, the more elusive it became and the harder my head pounded. As we got closer, I realized that most of the windows had no covering. Our boots crunched on shards of glass littering the porch.

“What’s with the glass?” Kim murmured.

“It’s from the windows.” Remy pointed at the jagged edges of broken glass bordering the windows. He picked up a large piece, turned it over in his hand, then glanced through one of the windows. “Every glass surface in the room is shattered, even the TV screen. It’s like a gas explosion or something.”

“Yet there’s no evidence of fire,” Sykes said.

“No, this is the work of a demon.” Bran stepped forward and pressed the doorbell. “Strong wind can shatter glass, right?” He glanced at Kim.

“And everything in its path,” Kim said. “This is something else.”

“Sound is more selective,” Izzy said. “But sound demons don’t exist.”

“I don’t know about that. I knew several Banshees on Coronis Isle,” Bran added, ringing the doorbell again. “They were funny.”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Ha-ha funny or hey-you-are-about-to-die funny?”

The energy was stronger now, but not enough to get a reading. Even our amulets didn’t glow in response to it. It bugged me that I couldn’t identify it. Running footsteps resounded in the air and drew closer. Bolts clicked then the door was flung open.

A petite freckled-faced woman squinted at us. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair sticking every which way, and her pajamas, a wrinkled one-piece, had wet blotches. There was no sudden rush of memories as I stared at her.

“Finally,” she said with relief and indicated we follow her.

No one moved.

Why is she being so nice? Izzy telepathed.

Yeah, Runners usually slam the door in our faces, Kim added.

“Mrs. Watts, we are here to—” Bran said.

“I know,” she said, interrupting him then gestured that we follow her. “This way. Mind the glass. It is everywhere and on everything. Vandals broke in last night and destroyed everything.” The living room wooden floor had an area rug littered with toys and more shards of glass. “The children are in the bedroom,” she added.

Bran gripped my arm. “Do you remember her?”

I shook my head.

He muttered a curse, then looked at his watch. “Okay, let’s find out why a demon was here, then get out of here. The perfect time to pay demons’ dens a visit is during lunch, when their guard is down. Come on.” He led the way inside the house.

“What’s that smell?” Kim asked.

“Smells like Lazari,” Izzy mumbled. “You think some did this to her home?”

“I never heard of Lazari with the ability to break glass,” Bran said. “Whatever did this might still be here. Do you sense anything, Lil?”

“Yeah. Something gooey.” I rolled my eyes when they all stopped and reached for their weapons. The way they blended in at school, I often forgot they hadn’t grown up around humans, but instead spent their first sixteen years in Xenith. They all grew up in Xenith until they got their powers at age sixteen. “The scent is not demonic, it’s puke,” I explained.

“As in partially digested food?” Kim asked, her expression dubious, one hand covering her nose, the other holding her knife.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“How do you know?” Sykes asked.