I’ll seal you in there … probably with bricks. Maybe even mortar.”
Nick ignored his dry tone. “Just so long as you make sure nothing can get inside to kill me, I’m good with that.”
Ash frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The kid dead on the ground. Fourteen, Ash. Fourteen. I’m fourteen.”
“Yeah…”
“Ash, I’m fourteen .”
“Got it. You’re fourteen. I’m so proud you can count that high. It’s a testament to the modern American educational system. But I should probably point out that you’re not the only one. I’m told you go to a school with a whole class of—get this—kids who are fourteen.”
Nick rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. No wonder his mom wanted to hurt him for it. He finally understood. “Yeah, but they’re not dead. Someone’s killing fourteen-year-old boys, which I happen to be one. The cops said so. This is the second one in a day who’s been murdered.”
“Yeah, well, given the lippiness of the average teenager, I can understand the urge.”
“You’re not funny.”
“And you need to calm down. The only person you need to fear killing you when I’m around is me.”
A chill went down his spine at words that seemed oddly prophetic. Was this the precog sensation Grim had told him about earlier?
Not to mention the small fact that Ambrose’s warning echoed in his head.
Don’t trust Ash.… He’s not what he seems.
Ash put one hand on each of his shoulders. “Nick, take a deep breath and look around. You’re safe here. There are police everywhere. It’s all good.”
Not what his book had said. He started to tell Ash about that, but something inside told him to keep it quiet.
For once, he decided to listen to his instincts.
“Why are they killing teenage boys?”
Ash gestured to the bloody graffiti that the killer or killers had left on the street. It was a circle around the body with strange symbols he’d never seen before. “Whoever killed him was hunting a demon. My guess is they thought the boy on the street was possessed, although I don’t know why they’d kill him.”
“Who are they ?”
“I’m not sure. I was trying to get a fix on it when you came running up and broke my concentration. It’s not normal for me to be blind to things like this, but that being said, these kind of demons aren’t my specialty.”
Nick was confused by that. “What do you mean?”
“I’m a Dark-Hunter, Nick. Not a demonologist. There are thousands of species of demons in a variety of belief systems, and while I may be fluent in all languages and customs, some—not many, but some—of the world’s demons are alien to me because they don’t come out and play often. Some are so terrifying that their own people don’t speak of them or have forgotten them. As a result, I don’t stay on top of it. Now wishing I had.”
That made sense. Nick glanced over at the weird design on the street. “What about those symbols? What are they?”
“A language that was dead before I was born.”
Whoa. Given Ash’s geriatrics, if that predated him … that was scary. “How can that be?”
“Contrary to popular misbelief, I wasn’t born with the dinosaurs, Nick. As old as I am, I know many beings who make me look like an infant. Whoever did this might be one of them, or it’s something or someone who’s had recent contact with them.” He looked back at the symbols. “I honestly haven’t seen that writing since I passed ruins in Atlantis when I was about your age.”
“You can remember that far back?”
An angry tic started in Ash’s jaw. “With a clarity I wish to the gods I could burn out of my mind.” There was a lot of hidden pain in Ash’s tone. Kyrian had told him that Ash didn’t like talking about his past. From his tone of voice, Nick would guess that Ash hadn’t had a very happy childhood.
Then again, it had to be gruesome for Ash to have died so brutally at age twenty-one that he’d sold his soul to the goddess Artemis for
Nick ignored his dry tone. “Just so long as you make sure nothing can get inside to kill me, I’m good with that.”
Ash frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The kid dead on the ground. Fourteen, Ash. Fourteen. I’m fourteen.”
“Yeah…”
“Ash, I’m fourteen .”
“Got it. You’re fourteen. I’m so proud you can count that high. It’s a testament to the modern American educational system. But I should probably point out that you’re not the only one. I’m told you go to a school with a whole class of—get this—kids who are fourteen.”
Nick rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. No wonder his mom wanted to hurt him for it. He finally understood. “Yeah, but they’re not dead. Someone’s killing fourteen-year-old boys, which I happen to be one. The cops said so. This is the second one in a day who’s been murdered.”
“Yeah, well, given the lippiness of the average teenager, I can understand the urge.”
“You’re not funny.”
“And you need to calm down. The only person you need to fear killing you when I’m around is me.”
A chill went down his spine at words that seemed oddly prophetic. Was this the precog sensation Grim had told him about earlier?
Not to mention the small fact that Ambrose’s warning echoed in his head.
Don’t trust Ash.… He’s not what he seems.
Ash put one hand on each of his shoulders. “Nick, take a deep breath and look around. You’re safe here. There are police everywhere. It’s all good.”
Not what his book had said. He started to tell Ash about that, but something inside told him to keep it quiet.
For once, he decided to listen to his instincts.
“Why are they killing teenage boys?”
Ash gestured to the bloody graffiti that the killer or killers had left on the street. It was a circle around the body with strange symbols he’d never seen before. “Whoever killed him was hunting a demon. My guess is they thought the boy on the street was possessed, although I don’t know why they’d kill him.”
“Who are they ?”
“I’m not sure. I was trying to get a fix on it when you came running up and broke my concentration. It’s not normal for me to be blind to things like this, but that being said, these kind of demons aren’t my specialty.”
Nick was confused by that. “What do you mean?”
“I’m a Dark-Hunter, Nick. Not a demonologist. There are thousands of species of demons in a variety of belief systems, and while I may be fluent in all languages and customs, some—not many, but some—of the world’s demons are alien to me because they don’t come out and play often. Some are so terrifying that their own people don’t speak of them or have forgotten them. As a result, I don’t stay on top of it. Now wishing I had.”
That made sense. Nick glanced over at the weird design on the street. “What about those symbols? What are they?”
“A language that was dead before I was born.”
Whoa. Given Ash’s geriatrics, if that predated him … that was scary. “How can that be?”
“Contrary to popular misbelief, I wasn’t born with the dinosaurs, Nick. As old as I am, I know many beings who make me look like an infant. Whoever did this might be one of them, or it’s something or someone who’s had recent contact with them.” He looked back at the symbols. “I honestly haven’t seen that writing since I passed ruins in Atlantis when I was about your age.”
“You can remember that far back?”
An angry tic started in Ash’s jaw. “With a clarity I wish to the gods I could burn out of my mind.” There was a lot of hidden pain in Ash’s tone. Kyrian had told him that Ash didn’t like talking about his past. From his tone of voice, Nick would guess that Ash hadn’t had a very happy childhood.
Then again, it had to be gruesome for Ash to have died so brutally at age twenty-one that he’d sold his soul to the goddess Artemis for
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