The Styles Brothers

Chapter Fourteen: Off-Limits

"Harry, you killed my girlfriend."

"Shut up. She's not dead, you idiot. Can't you see her breathing?"

"Corpses have been known to move due to muscle spasms, you know."

A loud whack sounded, followed by an "ow!"

"Dumbass," Harry's voice muttered.

I fought against my heavy lids, finally pulling them open. I was laying on a bed much similar to mine, only in a different room.

I coughed, weakly.

"Elena? Oh, thank God you're okay. I thought Harry had killed you," James rushed to my side, taking one of my hands.

"Hey, at least I took care of her while someone was knocked out on the ground," Harry sniped, seating himself on the corner of the bed.

"That's not my fault. That thing had a killer backhand," James grumbled, rubbing his bruised cheek.

"Basically, you were pimp-slapped into oblivion," Harry teased, imitating the monster's blow to James' face with an air of exaggeration.

"Shut up. It was Elena that stabbed the hell out of it, anyway," James grinned proudly at me.

I smiled, then grimaced in pain. My cheek was still badly bruised from the man at the gym's wicked slap, and a simple smile ached.

"Are you okay? Does you face hurt?" James hovered over me like a mother hen, pecking delicately at my bumps and bruises.

I smiled softly, calming his stress. "It's nothing. Just my face. What about you?"

"Nothing I can't handle," he waved away my concerns. "I'm just worried about you."

"So why was that thing here?" I asked, turning seriously to both of them.

"The Night Crawler? Well, it was obviously sent by someone. It could be anyone, but I'm getting a strong feeling that it's Lilith," James pondered.

"Really, James? I never would have guessed," Harry said, sarcasm falling from his mouth.

James rolled his eyes at his brother, before turning back to me. "That's how we fight demons. We used to do it all the time back home, when the Children of the Night freely roamed. They've receded a bit, but are still pretty much actively terrorizing the Realms," James rubbed the back of his neck. In his other hand he rolled the narrow steel wand between his lithe fingers.

"What is that?" I pointed to it.

"This?" James held it up. "Oh, it's called a Tube."

Appropriately named, I thought. Harry snorted from his perch, obviously hearing my thought.

"Each Tube is designed to equip one demon hunter and one demon hunter only. See, mine was designed to answer to my needs. Harry's was crafted for him only, and so on. They're basically the only tool a hunter needs; it can transform into any weapon we require of the moment," James rolled the bluish silver Tube between his hands as he explained.

"This is mine," Harry piped up. He pulled another Tube out of his pocket, only his was made of a charcoal metal that glinted brightly. "They're crafted to answer to your needs of the moment. It's what makes them so handy- but you don't get one until you graduate Academy."

I noticed the dagger I had used to stab the Night Crawler on the bedside table. Sitting up, I ignored the ringing in my ears and gingerly picked it up.

"I got demon stuff on your knife. Sorry," I apologized. Dried black crust coated the knife down to the hilt.

"No worries. You can keep it, if you like. That was Lily's knife," James answered, taking it from me.