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Blood

Page 58

by Cara Clare

He looks at me quickly and smiles. “I’m glad we bumped into each other again,” he says. His glasses add to his intellectual vibe, and I can’t help but be drawn to the quiet intensity in his eyes.

“Don’t get too excited,” I tell him, narrowly avoiding a puddle as we cross the street. “Things like this, with us, usually end in drama.”

“I got the feeling you guys were accustomed to drama,” Kim says, pointing toward an alleyway ahead. “This way. Shortcut toward the station.”

Kole, Mack, and Tanner follow behind us, and I can feel their eyes on me. Bringing flutters of heat to my skin because I know, as much as they’re focussed on the task at hand, they’re also being eaten up with jealousy right now.

And that is hot as fuck.

“So, I know you’re not into sharing, but how exactly is it that you’re good at tracking demons?” I can’t help but ask as we reach the train station. Kim’s eyes are closed, and he’s turning his head slowly. Listening. Seeking.

He opens his eyes and looks at me, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I guess the closest thing I can liken it to is those psychics you see on TV.”

“You’re a psychic?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at him and hoping Kole didn’t hear me because seers and human ‘psychics’ do not get on.

“No,” Kim says, shrugging inside his jacket as a cold wind whips across our faces. “But I’ve always been able to sense demonic energy. Ever since I was a kid. It’s like a frequency in the back of my mind, a pull towards the chaos and darkness that demons bring.”

“That sounds scary.”

His eyes flicker. They’re pale green, almost blue, but they darken as he looks at me. “Yeah, it can be,” he says. “It was when I was a kid, for sure. But I learned to fine-tune it over the years.”

“And now you work in an office during the day and track demons at night?”

“A mundane superhero,” Tanner interrupts me, skimming his hand over the small of my back and letting it rest on my hip. He’s smiling, but there’s a bite to his tone.

“Something like that,” Kim replies.

“And you’re confident you can track Zephyra?” I probe, genuinely curious. “Even though she’s a vampire not a demon?”

Kim nods, then his gaze sharpens as he gets back to work, turning toward an empty building site behind the station. “Demons, vampires, anything that originated from the dark realms. I can feel them, track them. It’s not perfect, but I’m not usually wrong.”

“Not usually,” Kole says – channeling Luther in his level of animosity. “That’s great.”

We’re standing beneath a tall, not yet constructed building, with scaffolding and empty cranes surrounding us, when Kim comes to a standstill. His body is rigid as he closes his eyes, presumably searching for that sinister frequency only he can sense.

His brows furrow in concentration, a testament to the effort he’s putting in. His breathing slows, becoming almost imperceptible, as if he’s trying to minimize any distractions. It reminds me of when Tanner jumps, only much less treacherous I hope.

As Kim breathes slowly, I can see the tension in his slender frame, the way his hands clench at his sides, knuckles whitening.

There’s suddenly an intensity about him, something that wasn’t as palpable before. It’s subtle, but it’s there—a slight hum in the air, a vibrational shift that tells me he’s tapped into something none of the rest of us can feel. Despite his lack of physical prowess, there’s a strength in his focus, a resilience in the way he holds himself.

I watch as his head tilts slightly to the side, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he hones in on the demonic energy he’s tracking.

“The energy…it’s murky, twisted. I can feel the chaos, the darkness. She’s doing something to mask her location, but it’s not enough to keep me out,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His voice is low, a whisper in the night, yet it carries a certainty that reassures me.

Finally, his eyes snap open. “This way,” he says, his voice steadier now.

Without a word, we fall into step behind him, moving with a renewed sense of urgency as storm clouds rumble above us and the midday sky darkens.

As we walk, the building site turns to houses, and then the houses fall away too.

I turn to look for Mack. He seems okay, keeping pace with the rest of us, but the way Tanner is staying close to his side makes me think he is not as okay as he’s pretending to be.

Now, trees crowd the landscape, their bare branches clawing at the sky.

Somewhere ahead, a dog’s distant bark carries on the wind. Kim freezes, holding up a hand.

“Miranda mentioned a dog,” Tanner says.