Within the darkest hollo.., p.1
Within The Darkest Hollows, page 1
part #2 of The Demon Hunters Series
Within the Darkest Hollows
The Demon Hunter Series, Book 2
By: D.A. Roach
Within the Darkest Hollows
Copyright © 2016 by D.A. Roach
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: December 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-912-2
ISBN-10: 1-68058-912-1
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to all those that have gone to a darker place but found the light within.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
GET (5) FREE READS EVERY FRIDAY!
“I can feel it inside of me, stirring awake, wanting control…”
—Tyler
Chapter One
Cassidy
Calm. Everything was so calm now, especially in contrast to the chaos that we had just lived through.
Killian had taken the worst damage from Tegan’s betrayal. The demon Rya had peeled off the skin with his demon hunter tattoo. Now he was here on Gram’s couch, without the tattoo’s healing properties, stuck in the Human Realm until he healed enough to cross back to the Clan compound.
Several hours had passed with Killian still asleep. The TV droned on in the background, but I was focused on Killian. Although only in his young twenties, he had the huge responsibility of leading his team of hunters in the fight to keep the balance between good and evil. Without the tattoos and leather pants, Killian could pass as a twenty-something Homer Glen guy that liked to hang out at the gym and stay fit. With his shirt off, I saw faint lines from fading scars against his pale skin, the markings of a warrior. He had come to my aid more than once and risked his own life to keep me safe. But here he was, in bad shape, and all I could do was sit by his side, play nurse, and hope it was enough.
My stomach grumbled loudly, pulling me from my thoughts. Pizza sounded good, so I ordered from Foxy’s Pub. Hopefully Killian liked mushroom and sausage on his pizza. Giving him a gentle shake, I said, “Hey Killian, pizza will be here shortly.”
He rubbed his eyes and yawned, and then sat up on the couch, pulling the comforter tight around him. “God, it’s cold in here.”
Oh no. I wasn’t cold at all. “I’ll get a thermometer.” When I returned with it, I checked his temperature. 100.5 F.
“Well?”
“Well, you have a low-grade temperature. I think I should call Serena.”
Serena was the healer that had provided the medicines and instructions on how to tend to Killian and his wound. She’d told me to call her if he developed a temperature, and to me, anything triple digit was a temperature. “Let me look at your arm.”
Killian held his arm out and I began undoing the wrap. The white gauze had yellow and red stains from the wound and Killian began flinching as the closest layers came off.
“Does it hurt?”
“Yeah, I think the medicine’s worn off.”
I took his arm and turned it so I could see all sides of the wound. “It looks okay, I mean, as okay as it can. Serena said it would have redness or pus if an infection was present. But I don’t see any of that. I’ll get more of the paste to put on it.” I threw the dirty bandages in the kitchen garbage and washed my hands well before returning to Killian.
“Okay, arm out again.”
Opening the jar, I felt Killian’s eyes on me and I could see the pain he was fighting within that glance. I smoothed a layer of the paste on the affected area and replaced the bandages. My fingers numbed and Killian’s forehead crease eased as the numbing took effect on his pain.
“I’m gonna call Serena.” I reached in my pocket for my phone.
“No. Don’t.” He stood and gripped my arm tight. “No calls.” He commanded a little too emphatically.
My eyes stared at his iron grip on my arm. He must have noticed as he slowly released his hand and took a step back. “Sorry, I mean, I’m okay. Let’s wait till morning. You said it yourself, it looks good.”
“Killian—”
“Cassidy. No calls. I’m fine.” Killian’s face tightened for a moment and he let out a forceful breath. It was eerily familiar, though I couldn’t recall Killian ever doing that before. Maybe it was just dejá vu.
“Okay, I’ll recheck in a few hours. Till then, take two of these.” I plopped two Advil on his palm. “I wish we could tattoo you now to help the healing, but I promised Lena I’d wait till tomorrow.”
After pizza and a movie, I rechecked his temperature and was relieved to find it had gone down to 99.5F. Killian had fought with such skill, but he hadn’t been able to fight when Jace telekinetically had taken over his body. The horror of watching Killian held by an invisible force while Rya cut his skin off would haunt me for a long time.
I helped Killian into the downstairs guest bedroom and tucked him into bed. “Don’t be alarmed if I check on you at night to monitor your temperature. And if you need me, just yell. I’ll just be up the stairs with my door open.”
Killian grabbed my arm, and our eyes met. “Thanks Cassidy.”
“You’re welcome Killian.” I looked at his strong hand on my forearm and saw Gram’s ring on his little finger. That small golden ring had thrown me into his world and changed my life forever. And now it was working to heal him. “You need to get your rest.” I gave his hand a gentle squeeze before saying, “Goodnight. Yell if you need me.”
Up in my room, I dialed Serena’s number, hoping she would ease my worries and assure me that all was well. But there was no answer. The phone rang and rang with no chance to leave a message. I washed up, changed into pajamas, and tried once more, but there was still no answer. I picked up a book from my bedside table and began skimming the chapter, listening in case Killian called me. But I didn’t even make it to the end of the chapter before my eyelids felt heavy. After setting down my book and turning off the bedside lamp, I fell into the deepest sleep—a lucid sleep, the kind where the edges of reality and dreaming blurred.
My hands were held fast to my sides; I couldn’t move them even an inch. Killian loomed over me. His face held no emotion; he just stared and studied me. The intensity of his gaze was alarming.
Was I dreaming? “Killian, what is it?”
His uninjured hand squeezed my wrist, nails biting at my flesh.
“Ow, stop!”
He pulled back, his fingers released their hold on me. The room was dark but there was enough light for me to see his eyes, they were so empty, like he wasn’t in his body. He stood and walked out of my room without a word.
I lay there stunned, still immobile from my sleep state.
“Cassidy!” There was panic in Killian’s voice from the lower level. I bolted down the stairs to his room, where I found him sitting on the edge of the bed staring at his hands in his lap.
“Killian, are you okay?” I knelt next to him and held his hands, hoping to comfort him. His frantic eyes met mine. What was going on?
“I don’t know.” His voice sounded gravelly. The bandage was ripped off his wound; pieces of it lay on the floor next to his feet.
“What did you do? What happened?”
“I had a terrible dream. You were laying there, so peaceful in your sleep. I had to get closer, so I did.” He cleared his throat and continued. “Your eyes opened, you were in pain. Then my body became so light. I floated a few inches from the ceiling, but I couldn’t get down.” He rubbed his eyes. “These damn medicines are messin’ with my mind.”
“Do you remember taking this off?” I held a shredded bandage in my hands.
His eyes widened and he looked to his injured arm. Scratch marks etched a path from the raw wound to Killian’s intact skin; blood pooled at the surface. “No.”
“What the hell? How’d these scratches get on here?”
He didn’t answer my question as he stared at his arm.
“Does it itch? Sometimes when things heal they itch, and you could have peeled it off in your sleep for relief and got a little too carried away.”
“Honestly, it hurts to have the air on it. The bandage was actually soothing and I have no recollection of it feeling itchy or me taking it off.”
“Ugh. And it’s still bleeding. Let me go get what I need to rewrap it.”
Killian bent and helped collect the bandage scraps.
“Sorry to wake you, Cass.”
“No, no worries. That’s what I’m here for.” I threw the scraps in the kitchen garbage and went to the sink to scrub my hands clean. The hot water called attention to my wrists. Upon closer inspection, I saw the slightest fingernail imprints on both wrists.
“Cassidy, need any help?”
“No, I’m coming.” Maybe the meds were making him sleepwalk. I would have to lock him in his room so he wouldn’t harm himself. Or me. Grabbing the bin of medical supplies, I headed toward his room.
Once he was bandaged, I got Killian a glass of water. “You know, I had a weird dream too…you visited me in my room.” He looked surprised, but I continued, “Killian, maybe the meds are making you sleep walk?”
“What did I do in your room…in the dream?”
“Nothing really.” I didn’t want him to feel bad if he couldn’t control it. “But we might have to consider locking you in the room, you know, for your own safety.”
“Maybe.”
“How are you feeling? Any fever?” I reached over to feel his head.
“I feel fine.”
He did not feel hot or clammy. “Okay, well, try to get some sleep.” I tucked the blankets around him and turned out the light. “Night, Killian.” His clock read 4AM, still some time to get more sleep.
Chapter Two
The next morning, Killian slept till well after ten. I think the smell of bacon was what finally woke him.
“Morning,” he muttered as he searched the cabinet for a glass.
“Hey, how are you feelin’?” Bacon grease splattered out from the pan, burning my wrist. “Ow!”
Killian grabbed several paper towels and wet them at the sink, and then laid them across my wrist where the skin was beginning to redden. “Need me to take over?”
“Have you ever cooked bacon before?”
“No.”
“Then no. it’s almost done anyway. Thanks.” I nodded my head toward the dressing on my wrist. The cold compress was a welcome relief to the burn. “Could you set the table for us? Just a plate, fork, and knife should do for each of us.”
Killian opened every cabinet door and every drawer before finding what was needed. He began setting the table while the pops of grease drew my attention back to the pan. “Bacon’s done.”
Killian stared out the window.
“Bacon’s ready.”
He didn’t move.
“Killian, did you hear me? I’m about to start the eggs. How would you like them?”
Killian seemed to be in a trance.
I waved my hand in front of his face, hoping to stir his consciousness. “Hey, Killian, are you okay?” His good hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, while his gaze was still fixated on the window. “Killian!” My eyes were drawn to his grasp that seemed to be tightening around my wrist. I raised my other arm to try and pry open his fingers. That’s when I noticed a tarry black stain on his bandage. “What is that?”
Killian finally turned and stared at the hand that imprisoned my wrist. He looked confused, disoriented. He released me immediately and stepped back.
“Killian, what’s going on?”
He shook his head and turned away.
“Let me see your arm.”
Killian hesitated before holding his arm out to me. The bandage looked bad, causing me to worry about the wound beneath. Killian seemed surprisingly unfazed by the tarry substance.
The foul smell burned my nostrils. “Breakfast can wait, let’s change that dressing.”
Killian followed me into the living room and plopped on the couch while I gathered the bandaging supplies. In the few moments it took to collect everything, Killian had managed to unwrap his arm. “Wait! Slow down and wait for me, and please tell me you didn’t touch that black stuff.”
He looked up at me and replied, “Tried my best not too.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not any worse than usual.”
My head shook as I examined his arm. “I don’t know if this black stuff is some reaction to Serena’s medicine or a sign of infection. But it doesn’t look good.” I studied the skin around the wound; the skin did not appear warm or red. “I don’t think it’s an infection, but it’s hard to know. I think our best bet is for me to clean it up a bit and rebandage you. If it continues to happen, we should call Serena. Wait right here.”
I stood and returned with a clean dishtowel that I had put a small amount of water on. Killian sat perfectly still while I did my best to clean up his wound without irritating it.
“Now, just sit for a moment so the air can dry that off. I’m gonna throw this all in the garbage.” I grabbed the soiled bandages and the washcloth and threw them in the kitchen garbage. Next, I carefully scrubbed my hands with soap, just as doctors often did before surgery.
“Get out!” Killian yelled from the living room.
“Killian?” I called out. “Are you alright?” He didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t hear me? I finished scrubbing and rinsing my hands, and then started toward the living room. I stopped suddenly when I heard laughter. Only it didn’t sound like Killian’s laugh. It sounded maniacal.
As I entered the living room, I half expected to see a visitor sitting there visiting with Killian. But no one was there besides Killian, perhaps my sleep deprivation was wreaking havoc on me. “Sorry, did you call out a moment ago? I could have sworn I heard you.”
He looked up at me; his expression was impassive.
“Killian? Did you hear me? Are you okay?”
His eyes were empty. The fierceness and intensity that made my heart beat faster every time I saw him was gone. I placed my hand on his arm to pull him from his trance. And in a swift move, his good arm captured my hand while his injured arm was positioned to strike me.
“Killian!” I yelled, turning my head to shield it from the blow. I had seen him in battle and knew that he could have delivered a punch to my face before I managed to turn my head away. I was not that fast. But he never hit me.
“Cass?” His voice quietly pleaded for my attention. I felt him release my arm. I turned to see him staring at his hands like they were foreign to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
I was silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of what had just happened.
“Please say something. Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” His hands found mine; my head raced with thoughts about what could have made Killian react as he had. “You’re trembling.”
I looked down and could visibly see the tremor in my hands. I cleared my throat, “I’m okay. I’m not hurt.” Maybe I had spooked him while he was entranced. Killian and the hunters had been trained to have quick reactions and strikes; it’s what made them such a strong force against evil. Still, their duty was to protect humans; seeing Killian move so quickly unnerved me. “I shouldn’t have surprised you like that. Let’s get your wound dressed.”
I managed to get Killian properly bandaged despite my jumpy nerves. Although I didn’t glance up, I could feel his eyes on me and could sense the concern and regret for what had just transpired. By the time I had finished, my hands had steadied.
Maybe he was reacting to the meds? I’d have to mention this to Serena the next time I spoke with her. “Okay, all set. I’ll wash my hands, and then we can eat.”
After breakfast, Killian laid on the couch with the TV on. He only lasted half an hour before he fell asleep. When I woke him around one o’clock, Killian complained that he felt unwell again. I made him some toast and tea and I got him to set up on the couch. His bandage was clean and dry—no sign of the smelly, black substance from earlier. He managed a few bites of the toast and a sip or two of tea but seemed uninterested in food or drink.
I checked his temperature and found that his fever had returned. He laid there in a semi-upright position, his head tilted back against the pillow and eyes shut. He looked miserable, colorless, and tired.
