The Demon's Gift

Untitled Part 11

 Nearly a week passed before I ever got a call. Colton had been watching and told me that Nualily had gone on other hunts. He nearly had me follow her on one, but I convinced him it was better to wait. Better to let her think that we trusted her. I answered on the third ring.

"Nualily." She waited a moment to respond.

"Auden. I'm going on a hunt tonight."

"Great. I'll be at your place in thirty minutes." I hung up before she could say anything. I imagined she wasn't too pleased about it. I was actually in the range when she called, throwing knives. Luckily Colton was in the room, and I went directly over to him. "Nualily just called. I'll need a ride over in twenty minutes."

"I'll take you," he told me. I left the room after to change into one of the million sets of black shirts and pants I had, looping my weapons belt around my waist before going back to the training room to load it with knives. I ended up only being ten minutes, but Colton was ready to take me, so we went. He didn't question much, just reached over and held my hand. A nice gesture after getting distant again.

He had stopped sleeping in my room once I started training again. He came by nearly every day, but we mostly talked missions. Every time I tried to kiss him he'd find an excuse to leave. Nat would tell me to get out, that it was causing me more pain than joy at that point. But she wasn't there to say it to me, so I stayed.

The drive wasn't that long. Twelve, maybe fifteen minutes of a slightly uncomfortable silence. He dropped me off a street down, letting go of my hand as he stopped the car. All I got from him was a "Be careful," as I was getting out.

I started the walk over to Nualily's, sticking to the sidewalk rather than cutting through people's yards. The rich houses on either side of me were nothing like anything I had ever known. A small, broken down house as a child and cold, empty cells could never compare to this. Nualily came from a world I was completely unfamiliar with.

I approached her house, feeling odd about knocking at the front door. Instead I climbed the oak again, jumping from its branch onto the balcony, and then testing the sliding glass door to find it unlocked. I slipped inside. Her bedroom was huge, the lavender walls enclosing the wide space gently. Everything else in the room was black, white, or purple. A zig zag black and white bedspread, a white table beside it with a purple lamp, a white swing in the corner with a purple pillow on it, a black couch, a white desk with a black typewriter resting in the middle. She didn't have a large bookshelf, but she did have a shelf on her wall containing ten or so books, all hardcover. The bathroom door to my right opened before I could go examine them.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" she asked, crossing her arms. She was also dressed in all black, a fitting black top and small black shorts on her body with black boots that I hoped were filled with knives. Although I guess she didn't need knives.

"The door was open," I told her, motioning to the glass door behind me. She raised her eyebrows.

"You couldn't have knocked?"

"Didn't feel right," I said, shrugging and going forward to the bookshelf. She stayed where she was, gaping at me. "Staring isn't nice, sweetie."

"Neither is prancing into someone's house, but here we are." I chuckled, quietly, and turned to her. She was glaring at me.

"Wrap your hair."

"What?" she asked, scoffing at me. I stared at the bundle of curls hanging out from her ponytail.

"It's an easy grip. You don't want to give them anything to hold onto."

She rolled her eyes. "They never grab onto anything. Demons don't fight with their hands, they fight from a distance. They don't have to touch you to throw you across the room."