18. Hunter

The scorching sun beat down on me as I strode out of Reform Hall and toward Cryptic Altar again, leaving Pandora in her Demonic Basics class.

Shadowheart and Grimshaw glared at me as I passed, and I briefly wondered why they hadn’t stirred up drama with Pandora as we’d walked by. Their gazes were all over her, but I was thankful nonetheless that they hadn’t said anything. I would’ve had to seek vengeance by gutting them if they had. It wouldn’t have killed them, but it would’ve hurt like a bitch. Then vengeance would’ve been served nicely.

The arid air thrummed with the residue of dark magic, and my gut churned as I wondered what dark ritual could’ve violated this sacred space. The bloodied circle poured into the sand was a sigil of dark magic, and it stood out against the muted color of the grains. The council had successfully rid the immediate area of students, and I was thankful for that.

The assembled representatives of the Demon Council were myself, Blackthistle, Death, and Joel. The rest of the representatives were busy with other dark magic investigations around the Demon Capital. Dark magic was becoming a plague faster than I had expected.

I stopped in front of the altar, and the hair on the back of my neck stood from being so close to dark magic. Surveying the scene, the metallic tang of blood and smoldering remnants of dark magic hung in the air. As my gaze traced the intricate patterns of the circle, I couldn’t help but agree with what Pandora had said. This did look like the makings of a demonic curse, specifically a shadow ritual that had familiarities of a dark ritual embedded in it.

“This really does look like a shadow ritual,” I muttered; the other three glanced at me.

Blackthistle stood hunched over on the other side of the altar, his form casting shadows over the dark magic circle spilled across the sand floor. His salt and pepper brown hair, tousled and unkempt, framed his blank face while his piercing green eyes slid over to me.

There was something undeniably unsettling about the headmaster and Chaos representative, Coin Blackthistle. I figured it was because he was a chaos demon, but a black aura clung to him like a shroud of malevolence.

“A shadow ritual?” He straightened, a slow, sardonic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “This has dark ritual written all over it.”

“It has both,” Joel murmured, crossing his arms as his blue eyes were trained on the circle. He raked his fingers through his brown hair. “Gravesend was right about her theory.”

“What theory?” Blackthistle frowned as he took long strides toward us.

“She said there was a theory that shadow rituals could bring tangible dark magic,” Death told him gruffly. “Her mother had given her a book that said it.”

“Did she, now?” Blackthistle hummed. “Interesting theory.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Death muttered as he withdrew a magical artifact from the folds of his robe. It was a golden staff-like object. The ancient relic was imbued with the power to absorb dark magic.

The three of us encircled the bloodied sigil, our shadows merging with the darkness that clung to the site.

Death chanted an incantation that resonated with the arcane magic as he activated the artifact, and we joined in. It pulsated with a pure white light, its glow intensifying as it flashed over the dark magic within the circle, erasing the dark magic traces and bloodstained circle as if they were never there.

“Pandora”s insights are in-depth,” I murmured more to myself than anyone else, and I couldn’t hide the admiration I held for her.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

Joel raised an eyebrow at me. ”You speak of Pan-Gravesend with a certain... fondness.” He held a teasing lilt in his voice. ”How long have you known her again?”

“Merely three days,” Death answered for me with a scowl as he stuffed the artifact back into his robe. “I’ve known her for over two months now.”

My cheeks tinged with a subtle heat. “That’s true, but I’ve known of her for as long as you,” I confessed.

“Remember that she’s my daughter, Darkmore.” Death glared at me.

“I’m aware of that,” I assured him.

“You’re a bit too infatuated with her to be aware,” he growled.

“I’m not infatuated,” I denied. “I’m…protective and in awe of her.”

“That sounds like infatuation.”

“We have more pressing matters to attend to,” Blackthistle interrupted. “Reports of a dark magic plague seeping through the veins of the Demon Capital is clearly not just a rumor. This affliction is unknown to the Supernatural Council for now, but when they find out, they could very well wage war with us for not snuffing this out sooner.”

“They wouldn’t do that,” Death replied lazily. “And I’ve spoken with Rowan already.”

“You what?” Blackthisle growled, his horns slipping from his skull. “We weren’t going to reveal that until we got this under control. Why would you tell the firedrake representative?”

“We’re not in control,” Joel snapped, and Blackthistle glared at him. “Death did the right thing.”

“Rowan and I have an existing relationship, and he’s aware of the situation. He’s not having the Supernatural Council step in unless we can’t handle it.” Death shrugged. “We have a meeting with the Supernatural Council in a week to update them. They give us their full support.”

“I’m sure.” Blackthistle turned sharply and left the altar.

Death gave me a hard stare. “Pandora’s well-being is more important than your crush on her.”

“Crush?” Joel chuckled, running a hand down his sweaty face. “I’m sure you know Hunter doesn’t crush. What he feels for your daughter is obviously more than that.”

“You’re not helping,” I hissed, elbowing my best friend in the rib cage as he howled with laughter.

“I’ll let you bond with your future father-in-law.” He tossed his hand up in the air and walked away.

I whipped my head toward Death and held up my hands innocently. “That was all Joel. You can’t get mad at me for that.”

Daryl’s dark eyes narrowed on me. “I can get mad, actually, but I’ll let it go for now. If you so much as touch my daughter inappropriately, I’ll eat your soul.”

I flinched at the seriousness in his tone, but I also didn’t find myself inclined to agree. If it came down to Pandora or my soul, I already knew I’d choose her.

“I just got her,” Daryl whispered, vulnerability leaking from his tone. “She’s been through so much, Darkmore. I don’t want her to get involved with romance and get her heart broken.”

Blinking at him, I realized he was only trying to protect his daughter. “Death, I give you my word that if I ever break her heart, you can have my soul.”

“I would take it regardless of your allowance.” His lips curled into a dark smile, and a chill hit the base of my spine.

I didn’t like being on Death’s bad side.