Demon Hunters: Book 1 Faith [editing]

Chapter 1

The music pulsated through the club, its vibrations pounding against her body. Flashing strobe lights cut across the misty, smoke-filled room. She sensed everything, every mind-deafening detail: the chatter of nervous girls dressed in mini-skirts, men and women yelling for more beer at the bar, the isolated couples trying to whisper to each other in the remote corners of the club as they explored each other's bodies in a drunken bliss. She saw the three men standing by the secluded back door, each with guns slightly bulging from under their jackets.

That one's a basic revolver, and that one's a Beretta. She thought, I guess they don't believe in standardization. Guns were too loud for her. Her fingertips reached behind her back to gently touch the hilt of her dagger. The scabbard was hidden beneath her black leather jacket. Tonight, she wanted stealth and speed so she left her katana behind.

"Zoe," a low, soft voice spoke through a small transmitter in her ear. No human being would be able to hear it. "The target is in the back room, down the corridor. First door on the left. See if you can pass the guards and sneak in." Of course, Zacharias would know the entire layout of the club. They had been watching the place for some time, waiting to make sure they hadn't made a mistake. There could be no doubt about the person they were about to kill. Zoe angled through the crowd.

"Hey there, beautiful." Some blond kid staggered by her. She had seen him drinking at the bar, and now here he was threatening to distract her. "Wanna dance, baby?" She sized him up quickly: about twenty-two in age, drunk. No, very drunk. Beer mostly, but she smelled bourbon and a small bit of some fruity drink. Probably a Jello shot. He reached to grab her arm, but she pivoted her body so that he missed her completely. "Wha—" he uttered before he lost his balance and fell forward. One swift attack on the back of his neck, and she made sure that he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

"Oh, my god!" A young woman half-shrieked, half-chuckled. "Did he just pass out?" A small group formed, as Zoe slipped into the shadows. "Is he okay? Should we call for help?" The distraction was perfect. The guards, curious about the antics of the fallen drunkard, didn't see her coming.

Well, maybe one of them did. Or she thought he did. Regardless, she left him no time to react. She slashed her dagger through his throat, leaving him gasping for air. Then flipped around, stabbing the second one directly through his heart. The third guard fumbled for his gun, eyes wide in panic. Soon he too collapsed.

In the darkness of the club, no one seemed to notice those three seconds that it took her to bring all three guards down. At least not yet. She figured she had roughly two minutes before someone bumped into the bodies—plenty of time to make the kill.

"Better hurry," Zacharias said. "Something isn't right."

Oh, no. She sprinted down the narrow hallway to the office and kicked the sturdy door open, dagger waiting in hand, but the room was empty. Damn.

She could smell the remnants of smoke. On the carpet, next to a round dark stain, someone had left her a note. She picked it up and read:

Z,

You're too late. His soul belongs to us now. Better luck next time.

R

She crumbled the tiny piece of paper and shoved it into her pocket. Then she knelt down to the carpet and pressed her palm over the charred area. It was still warm. She held up her dagger, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She whispered a prayer. Her blade ignited to life, sizzling with electric energy. She opened her eyes and tightened her grip. Then she plunged the dagger into the middle of the circle, burying it deep into the floor. The surface magically gave way, revealing a tunnel that faded into darkness. With both hands, she pulled against the opening of the portal, which had become fabric-like, making it wider.

"Zoe, I don't get any readings. We're too late. Let's abort. The police have been called. I repeat, abort."

She shook her head. This fight isn't over. She held up her dagger, its blade still sparkling, and threw off her leather jacket, allowing her wings to spread out. She grinned. Not over yet.

She dove into the portal, head first, her dagger illuminating the tunnel as she spiraled and turned and twisted. The path curved downward and then straightened. She spread her wings and flew as fast as she could. When she encountered forks in the tunnels, she knew exactly where to go. She knew where Ren was headed with the demon-human who she'd been sent to kill. She folded in her wings inward to increase her speed. Around a turn and over a winding curve, and then she saw a red glow in the distance. She was getting very, very close. She could stop him. She could kill the target right here in the portals if only she could reach them before they descended into the tunnel that led into the demon underworld, the tunnel that angels could not enter.

The passageway took a sharp turn straight up, and she soared at them. Now, their legs dangled just a few feet above her. She was closing in. Surely, Ren could see the electric light that cast off her celestial blade. Surely, he knew she was almost in arm's reach.

If she could just get hold of the demon-human's ankle and yank him back, then it would be all over in a second. But then the tunnel narrowed and shifted downward. The temperature plummeted. They descended into the Tunnel of Fallen Angels, the portal into the underworld.

She propelled herself faster and faster. She swiped at the target, her dagger a foot too short, her blade casting off sparks as it scraped along the portal wall. Then the tunnel shifted again, narrowing further. Its walls shimmered with a red light. She clenched her teeth and drove forward, closer to striking range. Two more inches. Then one more inch. Her blade all but grazed the soles of the target's feet.

She ignored the tingling sensations on her skin at first. Then the burn set in around her wings, searing heat attacking her feathers. She slowed down as the pain increased. A feeling of swimming in acid forced her to stop her descent. She screamed at the agony ripping through her wings and along her back. She had to retreat before it was too late. As she fled, she heard his laughter echo through the tunnels. There will be a next time, she thought. And he won't be so lucky.