“How about we dive into philosophy after I figure out how to fix this demon problem?” I muted myself for a moment to breathe out a sigh.
“Are you still at that horse ranch?” A frown laced itself through every word Opal spoke.
“Elmwood,” I provided.
December whispered,speakerand I did as she requested.
Dawn’s muffled voice asked, “Walk us through what happened.” She’d undoubtedly rested her head on a table for focus, like she’d done every time any of us offered her new information. I started from the top, my throat tightening as every red flag from the moment we stepped on the ranch wasrelayed.
“Damn it, Rae,” Dawn said once I finished. “I wish you’d called sooner. We just accepted another job.”
“That’s fine.” The heaviness of my team’s collective gaze weighed down on my skin. “We just need the extra brainpower. A new perspective because after tonight…well, we’re shot.”
Recovery time for hunters was practically nonexistent. But I knew enough about psychology to understand my team would need more than a few minutes to jump back into productive problem-solving. If we continued to push forward on our own, this case would stretch into an infinite abyss.
Or is it justyouwho can’t hack it?Who needs to depend on backup because your mental barriers are nowhere near what a professional’s should be? You’re a runner. Or a talker. Neither of which is cut out for the most important parts. You can pretend that all the talks and books matter, but when it comes down to it, it’s the people doing the actual work who are vital.
And if I lacked vitality, then…what was the point of me taking up space here? At what point did I become less of a driving force and more of a roadblock on the way toward excellence?
“I’ve looked at what’s in the database,” I said in a low voice.
“The last entry’s from 2003,” Eve said. “Why do you think that would help you?”
“Hope,” I said through gritted teeth. “Trying to find something between the lines.”
“The database is a waste when it comes to anything to do with demons,” she said. “They won’t approve any additional information without peer reviews unless you’re a subject matter expert.”
“So why aren’t we prioritizing peer reviews?” Jonah asked, too quiet for them to hear.
I chewed on my bottom lip because the answer was as frustrating as the result. “Can’t offer peer reviews if there aren’t many peers. And the peer list won’t grow unless the Guild pays a living wage to hunters to study demonology.”
“And so, the cycle is endless.” Nico got out of the passenger seat to join December and me at the table. We’d arrived at the town’s inn. Jonah parked us in the farthest space from the front office. Octavia’s truck sat right out front. She hadn’t moved from her seat; the outline of her and her brother lingered in the cabin.
“There’s no “official” data.” Nico picked up the phone, holding it closer to his mouth. “But we still have a couple of researchers, right?”
“Three,” Dawn confirmed. “And there lies another hurdle.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Of course, we couldn’t just phone a friend after this hellish night.
“Two of them are on active jobs,” Dawn said. “There’s been a lot of activity in Europe. I can call and get some information from them, but they won’t be able to come on as consultants. Shit’s gotten dark over there.”
Dawn was friends with older experts in the Guild. At forty, she’d been around long enough to remember a time when the Guild’s subject matter experts intermingled far more often than at the bi-annual Guild “town hall meetings.” We Joneses were spirit experts. The Byeon family had deep knowledge of shifters and vampires. Other hunters took the pick of their paranormal poison. And only three walked against the stream and hunted demons.
“Where’s the third?” I asked.
There was a pause before she said, “His name’s Daylan Burrow. He’s been on indefinite voluntary leave.”
Nico switched the phone from one hand to the other. “Why’s that?”
“He’d been hunting the same demon for a couple of years.” A chair scraped on their end. Dawn sounded farther from the mic. December and I had to lean in to hear her. “A few months ago, he caught up to it, or it caught up to him, who knows. And it did what it does best.”
“It got in.” The little food in my stomach churned.
“He was possessed?” Jonah’s voice was high in dismay. “And survived?”
The survival rate for possessions was less than 1 percent. There were no confirmed exorcism methods. Most hunters put the victims out of their misery. The one recorded account of a survivor in the Guild’s records showed there had been little of anything left of the mind once a demon vacated. It was as if they took everything, including the person’s soul.
“What shape is he in?” I caught movement outside the window. Octavia hopped out of her truck, heading inside the inn. My feet were restless with the need to follow her behind its white doors. The more we spoke, the less I wanted her out of my sight.
