The Hunter's Curse (Monster Hunter Academy Book 2) Read online

  He murmured something I couldn’t quite hear, but which jolted me out of my panic. Then he swung away, completing a roundhouse punch as one of the demons raced up to him, talons flailing.

  I stared down at the beads in my palm, dumbstruck for another second. These were the same kind of beads like the one I’d seen the squirrel trying to break open over by the park. How had Grim found an entire trove of them—and what had he said as he’d given them to me?

  I didn’t have time to work it out, as an exceptionally feral, skinny-looking demon, more fang and claw than body, leapt at me. My left hand spasming around the pellets, I slashed at it with my iron blade, but the creature kept coming. It raked its claws across my face, and if it’d been real and not a hologram, I would have been looking at some serious plastic surgery. As it was, the demon stopped its claws midair and reversed direction, and panic suffused me again. Not knowing what else to do, I hurled the tiny pellets at it, cringing back as it exploded in a furious burst of ash and smoke.

  Don’t be afraid.

  Grim’s words, finally clear and true, struck me as if they’d been released on a sigh, and I scrambled back, dazed. Liam sent up a cheer.

  “She hits, she scores,” he chortled, while he and the other guys converged on their targets. It was all a blur of fists and kicks and flashing blades as I picked out the weapons being wielded by the other guys. Though they were able to push the demons back, other than the one I had managed to poof out of existence, the others were not giving up much ground.

  “Zach?” Tyler shouted finally, as the creatures pushed forward again. “Are you sure about the crosses?”

  “They shouldn’t work,” Zach insisted, but Liam was already bringing his bag around.

  “Never look a gift crucifix in the mouth, I always say,” he declared, and a second later, metal flashed through the air, catching the light.

  Tyler caught the first thrown cross, Zach the second, and I noted the sharpened spikes—these were the same kind of weapons that we’d used in Bellamy Chapel yesterday. Liam shook out a final one, but Grim ignored them—beating down his demon on his own. This time when the guys pushed forward, the demons screamed and fell back, eventually falling beneath the cross pummeling. Within another forty-five seconds, the field was clear.

  Zach leaned over, breathing hard, but he didn’t look happy.

  “That’s not the way that should have gone,” he insisted. “These aren’t supposed to be typical demons. I didn’t program them that way.”

  “You programmed them to match their environment,” Grim countered. “It’s a good strategy, choosing to fight them here, but monsters have a long history of adapting to human strategy. An attack that’s going to go down on a monster hunting campus requires different tools. Your machine demons figured out how to adjust. Your family’s demons might too.”

  “Fuck,” Zach groaned, his disgust plain.

  Tools. I frowned. Tools like the silver pellets that Grim had given me, along with the order not to be afraid. Why…why had he said that? And where had he found those beads? I wanted to ask him, but I didn’t know how without focusing all the guys’ attention on him. I got the feeling he wouldn’t appreciate that.

  “In any event,” Zach said, drawing our attention again, “now we have a plan. Take out the monsters the way you would any creature, but to Grim’s point, be ready for a couple of religious nuts in the mix as well.” He sounded so exasperated, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “We’ve got this, my man,” Liam said, pounding him on the back. “Now we’re just better prepared, right? And I’m glad we did this. These demon guys are big, stubborn, and double-jointed, if they’re anything like your holograms. We’re going to have to make a lot of follow-on strikes to take them down, unless you’re Grim and you just want to beat them to death.”

  Grim grunted, and Tyler turned to me. “Or Nina, with her knockoff blade of destruction,” he said. “Great kill shot there.”

  I blinked at him, realizing he thought I’d taken the demon out with my knife, not Grim’s pellets. I opened my mouth, then shut it as my phone buzzed in my pocket. A second later, all the guys’ phones buzzed too.

  Tyler reacted first, with a quick draw on his phone that would have made any Wild West gunslinger proud.

  “It’s Frost,” he said, peering down at the screen. “Looks like the entire demonology department just showed up at Lowell Library. We’ve gotta move.”

  26

  We weren’t that far from the library, but as we gathered our things and made our way out of the field, we argued about the ramifications of the sudden infestation of demonology students. Frost hadn’t indicated why they’d shown up, and didn’t respond to Tyler’s follow-up text.

  “Well, it can’t be a demon attack,” Liam reasoned. “If it was, he’d have said something.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Tyler said. He looked over at Zach. “Are you picking up on anything? Is your demon Spidey sense tingling?”

  “I should be, at this point, but I’ve got nothing,” Zach said, shaking his head in irritation. “And I agree with Liam—Frost would have said something if that’s what it was.”

  “Can you, ah, find that out for sure?” I asked. “He’s not warded from you, right? So you could read his mind if you wanted?”

  “Oh, he’s warded,” Zach said. “Has been since the day I arrived—before I arrived, actually. Now that I realize he and Dad were classmates, I bet he got those tats made when Dad was here the first time.”

  Liam snorted. “Probably. That man doesn’t mess around.”

  As we approached the library, there were more students relaxing in the shared quad spaces than usual—or so it seemed to me. I watched them out of the corner of my eye, though for what, I wasn’t exactly sure. It wasn’t like they were going to outwardly express their disdain for us, right? Most of the students at Wellington Academy probably didn’t know anything about the monster hunter minor other than as a bullet point on an academic list. The whole academy wasn’t out to get us. They couldn’t be. Right?

  Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The guys were all kibitzing back and forth, acting like everything was normal, their energy up a little because of the training sesh we’d just had. Nothing like killing a few demons to get you amped up, right? But something else was bugging me, and I couldn’t quite…

  Then it hit me. I was picking up on Zach’s emotions—channeling them. This time without any need for holding onto the bracelet. Was this my doing, or simply a result of Zach leveling up? Did we all need to upgrade our bracelets now? Probably, though Zach likely wasn’t entirely sure of how he’d leveled up. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he looked ahead at the same time, his expression registering dismay.

  “Oh, geez,” he muttered, and I followed his sightline to see what had upset him. Wendy Symmes stood loitering in front of Lowell Library, looking woefully out of place. The moment she saw Zach, her face lit up.

  “Zach,” she said, blinking rapidly as she took in his fallen-angel beauty. Even if the guys were oblivious, at least the women of this world weren’t. I found myself vindicated once again, but I would have much preferred being vindicated by someone other than a beautiful young coed with huge green eyes. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”

  I managed not to point out that it was extremely likely she would find him considering how much time we all spent in the library, but I decided to be the bigger person. It pained me.

  “Hey, Wendy,” Zach said, giving her a smile that made her cheeks heat even more obviously. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yes,” she nodded quickly. “I—well, I told my dad all about what happened yesterday. He’s been traveling out of town and just got back. He was super impressed you were able to, in his words, save me from myself.” She blushed again prettily. She probably didn’t do anything that wasn’t pretty. “Anyway, he wanted to invite you to dinner, all of you, he’s kind of a big deal with the school, and I don’t know, I j
ust thought, you know, it might be a good thing? For your minor and stuff?”

  We all got the reference at the same time, and my eyebrows climbed up my forehead.

  “Are you sure he wants to see all of us?” Tyler asked, drawing Wendy’s gaze. Her eyes widened, indicating a clear willingness to be smitten by any hunky college guy who paid her attention. I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  “Oh, absolutely,” she said. “He was quite specific about that. I don’t know if you know this, but my mom, oh God, it sounds sort of ridiculous for me to even say it out loud, but—”

  “Your mom is a Lowell,” Zach said, as if he’d learned this piece of information somewhere totally ordinary and not by reading her mind.

  “Yes,” she said, clearly relieved not to have to explain it. Without question, the people on this campus were super weird about family ties. “I don’t make a big deal out of it ordinarily, because, you know, who cares, whatever, but she is a Lowell, so therefore, we, I mean my family, we’re kind of in tight with the academy, right? So I thought maybe this could be a good thing for all of you.”

  “It’s a very good thing,” Zach assured her, and there was a strange lilt to his voice that hadn’t been there before, one I’m not sure I would’ve noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. That didn’t make me feel much better, though, because Zach didn’t appear to be doing anything differently than he ordinarily did, making people feel at ease, comfortable, but not expending too much effort to do so. Had he increased his ability to win friends and influence people beyond becoming hotter, or was it some kind of new, magic-related skill?

  Zach kept going. “We would be totally honored to have dinner with your dad, your whole family. I assume you’ll be there too?”

  “Oh God, no,” Wendy said with such emphasis that we all jolted, even Grim. She blushed again, and I wonder if she used a particular type of makeup to emphasize that look. I’d never seen anyone blush as impressively as Wendy Symmes.

  “Sorry,” she managed with a little laugh. “I know that sounds kind of strange, but my dad isn’t really the type to have a casual dinner without an agenda. He wants to meet with you all, like, officially. Sometime soon, but not this week, as he’s off again. He wanted me to get your contact information and let you know he’d be calling. I hope that’s okay?”

  Zach nodded and pulled out his phone as I studied Wendy more carefully. Her relief was obvious. She hadn’t been sent here to flirt with Zach, though that was an enjoyable side benefit of the visit. She’d been sent here on a mission from her dad. She was little more than his glorified messenger, which didn’t sit well with me, but she seemed to take it all in stride. I got the feeling that such summonses were business as usual for her. What would it be like to have a father that powerful? What would it be like to have a father at all? I’d never missed not having one, though I’d sort of begun fantasizing about it, what with Mom’s letters and all.

  You know, the letters she’d never sent.

  Once the contact information was shared, Wendy wasted no time scampering off, reinforcing my belief that she wasn’t actually interested in either Zach or Tyler. Which was handy, because I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with it if she was. I wasn’t normally the jealous type, but then again, none of what had happened to me these past two weeks at Wellington Academy could be classified as normal.

  Grim had already continued on to the library, and the rest of us hastened to join him. We didn’t say anything more until we entered the main chamber…to find a good thirty-odd students waiting for us, Dean Robbins and Commander Frost at their head, along with a man dressed in a black shirt and pants, his pale face world-weary beneath his close-cropped gray hair, but his eyes sharp and focused.

  “Bands,” Zach said suddenly, and on cue, we all reached over and covered our left wrists. Zach spoke immediately in our minds. “Don’t slow down, but this is wrong, man. This is bad. We’ve got possessions happening in this group.”

  “Who?” Liam asked, as Grim huffed out a sharp, angry breath.

  “Can’t tell, but roll with it until they break out, because they are freaking about to burst. Liam, you got salt on you by any chance?”

  Beside me, Liam hiked the shoulder carrying his pack. “By the tube and by the cube, my man.”

  “Hit the door and get ready to seal us in. I want to make sure we’ve got ‘em all in here first, but that won’t take long.”

  “Roger that.”

  Zach signaled to me, sliding my tote bag off his shoulder and making sure I saw him hide it behind the reception desk. Its contents—the iron box I’d carried with me from Asheville—would be safe there, I knew instinctively. Whatever trouble was waiting for us in the library, it wasn’t after my mom’s letters. Nevertheless, I took the extra second to lean down, checking to see that my ankle sheath was snug, my knife in place. Then we started moving again.

  The other students turned as we approached, and we didn’t slow our pace until we hit the center of the room. Robbins wasted no time.

  “Ah, here we are,” he said, his eyes flat and lizard-like, though an affable smile stretched across his face. “Gentlemen. Ms. Cross. I appreciate you coming so quickly. We have an unprecedented cross-departmental collaborative opportunity with demonology that will take up the rest of your day. You’ll remain under the direction of Professor Garrison here, and not leave the premises without his permission. I’ll notify the instructors of any classes you have today—except for you, Ms. Cross, given your status as an auditing student this semester.”

  I took the slam in stride as Tyler stopped short. “We’re happy to help, but—how?” he asked Garrison, pausing long enough to nod deferentially to Frost and Robbins.

  “Actually, Mr. Perkins,” the thin man, who I assumed was Professor Garrison, interrupted, “the question is, the question has always been, how can we help you? Commander Frost and I have finally had the opportunity to discuss the alerts of demonic activity that have been bubbling up these past several days, but I had no idea how advanced your tracking mechanisms were. While I’m impressed, I think I would have been more impressed if you’d brought us in earlier.”

  Robbins spread his hands. “I, of course, shared with Professor Garrison the experimental nature of the tracking procedures we’ve assembled here at Lowell Library.”

  I noticed the we—since when did Robbins want to associate himself with us? Had something happened?

  “Very experimental,” Frost huffed. “And as I’ve been trying to explain to you, highly erratic.”

  Garrison thinned his lips. “Erratic or not, we are the experts in demon management, as you well know. We’ve brought a few of our own laptops to compare our findings with yours, but I can’t help but feel that you’ve been remiss in not informing us earlier.”

  As the men argued back and forth, I felt an odd chill lift the hair on the back of my neck. Steps sounded behind me, more students coming in, and I shivered.

  “We’re close,” murmured Zach.

  By now, Liam had drifted to the side of the group, his gaze scanning the books stacked high in the shelves. No one paid him any attention, and he moved so casually, it seemed almost ingrained—the well-worn distraction of an academic for books. But he stepped back another foot as I watched, then slipped to the side. Garrison’s disapproving voice recalled my attention.

  “Again, what you perceive as erratic, academicians with proper training could have advised you was deeply organized and prophetic. The academy could have prepared, shored up its defenses, called in reinforcements against any potential attack. But no.”

  As Garrison continued, his voice changed—at first subtly, then more obviously, becoming harsh and garbled. “You, in your secretive ivory tower, smug in your misbelief about how special your blighted minor is, chose to remain silent. Dangerous decisions, Commander Frost. Foolish choices. Now you will be held accountable for those choices.”

  “Uh-oh,” Zach warned in our minds. “Liam.”

  “Way ahead of yo
u.”

  As Liam disappeared into the stacks, I surveyed Garrison’s students, not surprised to see many of them beginning to peer at their professor in alarm. I didn’t know this professor, but given his manner of dress and personal grooming, he didn’t seem given to histrionics. But now he was growing more and more excited, tension snaking out from him into the room. Even Robbins frowned.

  “Professor Garrison, I assure you—” Robbins began.

  “And you.” Garrison turned on him with such vitriol, I flinched. “You have been exactly what the festering rot needed to leach deep into the bones of this academy. All of you so smug, so caught up in your petty plays at power. Now you will see real power. The power of the horde.”

  “Eviglio,” one of the demonology students murmured beside me, soft and cautious. I didn’t know the Latin, but a ripple of awareness spread through the room, many of the students glancing around with growing worry on their faces. Many, but not all.

  I noticed something else too. About half the group hadn’t come to Lowell Library empty-handed. They carried backpacks similar to Liam’s and apparently shared his penchant for the tools of the trade. As the men carped at each other at the front of the room, easily a dozen students pulled their packs around, flashes of silver glinting as they pulled the bags open.

  Did Wellington Academy supply these guys with their own set of exorcism tools? And what would those include anyway? Vials of holy water, tubes of salt, crosses? Did they sell starter kits in the campus bookstore?

  These idle thoughts crashed together as I noticed that not all of these students were surreptitiously arming themselves. A dozen others stood frozen, transfixed by the drama unfolding at the front of the room. For a second, I thought they were merely impressed with their professor getting fierce, then I realized there was more to it than that. They were too still, too silent, almost as if they were frozen in a thrall.

  “I see you,” Zach murmured in our minds, and a new swell of awareness flowed through the room, tightening the tension.