Heart of the Hunter

The biting wind blew across Jake Conroy’s back as he sat waiting on the wooden bench. He pulled up the collar on his leather jacket but it wasn’t doing much good. It was damn cold in Calgary in November. He should’ve been more prepared for the hunt than wearing only his thin leather jacket, leather gloves and boots. Thankfully he was wearing wool socks, so at least his feet weren’t freezing.

He turned as his Canadian contact, Ryan, sat down beside him, handing him a tall, steaming cup. “Here. Timmies. It’ll warm you up.”

Jake took the offered drink. “What’s Timmies?”

“Best coffee ever.”

Jake took a grateful sip and sighed. It was good. He didn’t know if it was the best coffee he’d ever tasted, but on this chilly night, it very well might’ve been. At least it was piping hot. It burned his tongue, but he didn’t care as long as it warmed up his insides.

“Any movement?” Ryan asked.

Jake shook his head, not taking his eyes off the third-floor window of the building across the street. The light was still on and there hadn’t been any change. As far as he could tell the demon son-of-a-bitch was still inside the building.

He’d been sitting on the bench on Stephen Avenue for three hours now, waiting for the demon to make a move. According to his contact, the demon had morphed into the body of one Brian Rose, an accountant, who worked until six, then walked down the block to the pub to have a few drinks and scout out his next victim. Jake had been in the pub and checked it out for exits just in case.

Jake glanced at his watch. It was now six thirty. “You said this guy leaves at six.”

Ryan shrugged. “Maybe he’s working late.”

“Trust me, the demon is not working in there. Do you really think he’s going to assimilate this accountant’s life so he can do taxes all freaking day?”

“What’s he doing then?”

“Planning his next move.”

Jake had made the long trip from San Francisco up to Calgary to hunt this demon. He wanted to say he was doing it for the morality of it, but the fact was he was being paid. Demon hunting wasn’t a lucrative vocation, so once in a while he had to take paying jobs. Sometimes he did bodyguard work, other times he located missing people, but this time he’d been hired by a wealthy family member of one of the demon’s last victims to track it down and kill it. The assignment was right up his alley.

“Do you think he made us?” Ryan asked.

Jake stood and adjusted the harness around his shoulder. He had a 9 mm Beretta holstered there, as well as two silver daggers blessed by a priest with holy water and salt. “Is there a back entrance to the building?”

Ryan shrugged. “There’s an alley.”

“Damn it.” Not waiting for Ryan, Jack jogged down the avenue to the corner, turned it and followed the street until he hit the mouth of the alley.

He peered down the dark lane and saw a shadowy shape walking swiftly away from him. Ryan came up behind Jake. “Is that him?”

“Don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

Jake started at a slow jog, but as soon as he was halfway down the alleyway, the shadowed shape began to run. He guessed he had his answer.

He chased the spectre down the lane. The demon was fast, faster than a normal human. But Jake was in great shape and had trained for years for this type of activity. He was able to stay up to speed. He’d never outrun the demon, but he could at least see where it was running to.

The demon in the accountant suit, rounded the corner to the left and dashed down the sidewalk. As Jake came around, he nearly ran into an old woman with a walker. She yelled at him but he didn’t have time to stop and make sure she was okay. By the ire in her cracked voice, he didn’t think she was in any immediate danger or pain.

He watched as the demon dashed across the street, jumping over the cars and on top of them. There were honks and tires screeching, but no accidents. Jake had to wait a bit before he could follow. After the last car raced away, he ran across the road and picked up the demon’s trail.

It wasn’t hard to find, since the demon was swinging from the white metal decorative structures that lined either side of the trendy shopping district. Like Spiderman, the demon swung from one to the other, but there was no webbing holding him up, just sheer supernatural strength.

Incredulously, Jake ran after him, careful of running into anyone. A bum sitting on one of the benches watched as the demon swung over top of him.

As Jake sprinted by, he yelled, “Are you guys making a movie?”

“We sure are,” Jake responded, hoping to keep this strangeness out of morning papers. He also didn’t need the police around either. They’d just want to arrest the man, when Jake needed to kill him. They’d probably arrest Jake as well. There were laws against carrying concealed weapons in Canada.

The demon was nearing a glassed-in walkway that spanned the shopping lane. Instead of dropping to the ground and going under, it jumped onto it, breaking glass panes as he went, and landed on the other side at full throttle.

Jake’s boot crunched the glass fragments as he ran under the pedestrian bridge. The police would definitely be alerted now. The damage wasn’t immense but it was enough to draw attention. He had to end this quickly.

He had to get the demon off the streets.

Reaching under his jacket, he withdrew a weapon. It was a small crossbow he had modified especially for this type of work. It was already cocked and loaded with a silver-tipped arrow blessed with holy water. It might not kill the demon, but it would slow him down enough that Jake could drag him off the public street and deal with him in private.

The demon rounded the corner before Jake could get an arrow off. Running with his weapon at his side, Jake sprinted after it. It ducked down another alley. This was perfect for Jake, except now it was dark and he couldn’t see much. He only had four arrows with him, so making a bad shot and losing an arrow wasn’t really an option at this point. He needed all the weapons he had to complete his job.

As he ran, he kept an eye on the shadow bouncing around in front of him. Then the shadow bounced up and kept going skyward. Was it flying? He’d never heard of a demon with flight ability. But as he got closer, he could see a set of fire escapes leading to the roof. Damn it. He really didn’t want to go up there. He hated heights. It wasn’t that he was afraid; it was the chance of falling he didn’t relish.

Jake reached the bottom rung of the metal ladder and pulled it down. He mounted the steps and climbed as fast as he could. In a matter of minutes he was at the top and clambering onto the seventh-story rooftop.

It was lighter up top so he could see fairly well. The demon was nowhere in sight. He didn’t hear it jump off so it had to be up here somewhere, hiding, waiting to spring out at Jake and rip out his throat.

Cautiously, Jake moved across the gravelled roof, careful not to make too much noise. But it proved difficult especially with the crunching of stones underfoot. Pointing the crossbow forward, he did a sweep of the area, tensing at every shadow.

He neared a large metal box on the roof. It probably contained electrical equipment for the building, or was an air filtration system. Either way it was a perfect structure to hide behind.

Sweat soaked the back of his shirt under his jacket and it beaded on his top lip. Adrenaline pumped through his body, making him keenly aware of every movement, every sound around him.

That was why the slight swish of fabric on fabric made him stop and spin around.

Its face twisted in rage, the demon levelled its razor-sharp claws at Jake’s throat. As if in slow motion, Jake could see the arc of its hand. He hoped he could pull the trigger on his bow before it reached him.

The arrow zinged by the demon, narrowly missing its shoulder. An error that would likely cost Jake’s life.

“Conroy! Drop!”

Instinctively, Jake dropped to the ground.

He heard the knife
swoosh
through the air, but he didn’t see it. But he did hear the telltale thunk of the blade hitting its mark. Turning his head to the side, he saw the demon stumble backwards, and its shriek of fury and pain echoed over the rooftop.

Its claw wrapped around the hilt of the knife and it pulled the blade out of its chest, dropped it to the ground and turned and ran the other way. It dashed to the edge of the roof and jumped.

A pair of black boots came into Jake’s view, and he rolled over onto his back and looked up at his savior.

A woman with fire-red hair and golden eyes looked down at him, a bemused expression on her face. She offered her gloved hand to him.

“Need some help getting up, Conroy?”

Jake sighed. Just what he needed. His ex-girlfriend, Gianna Morgan, saving his life.

Gianna pulled Jake to his feet. What he secretly wanted to do was to pull her down with him, just to be childish and spiteful—two things she accused him of being years ago when they broke up.

He wiped at his jeans, trying to be cool. “What are you doing here?”

“What, no thank-you for saving your ass?”

He stared at her, not wanting to give her any satisfaction. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you. I’m hunting.”

“This is my demon.”

She shrugged. The movement gaped open her jacket, revealing her ample cleavage. Despite his dislike of her, his gaze dropped to her breasts. That was one thing he’d always admired about her. Her bustline.

Gianna caught him looking, and then zipped up her jacket. She shook her head. “Why does that look not surprise me?”

“Because I’m a guy.”

“That’s always your excuse.” She sniffed, and then bent down to retrieve her blade. She wiped the blood off on her pants then sheathed it back into her ankle holster.

“Yeah, well I can’t help it if it’s true.”

She glanced at him with one eyebrow quirked up as if thinking, “You are such an idiot.”

“Like I said, this is my demon. I’m being paid to hunt him down and kill him.”

“So am I.”

He gaped at her. “What? By who?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. You know clients are confidential.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Gi, just tell me.” He flinched inwardly at using his nickname for her. If it bothered her, she didn’t show it.

She gnawed on her bottom lip, which was a sign she was seriously thinking. She’d done that right before she tossed him out of her apartment along with all his clothes and his toothbrush.

“Daniel Frost.”

Jake sighed, then clenched a fist and banged it on his leg. “Damn it.”

“I take it he hired you as well.”

He nodded.

“Well, I guess I can’t blame the guy. He wants to find whoever killed his daughter. I can get behind that.”

Jake wanted to bitch and complain about the situation, but the fact of the matter was he didn’t blame the guy, either. His daughter had been tortured and raped and killed, left in a dumpster like day-old trash. Jake would’ve done everything in his power to find her killer, too.

“What now?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Don’t know about you, Sport, but I’m going down and tracking this bastard again.” She turned on her boot heel and headed toward the fire escape.

“Wait. We should work together. It’ll be easier and we can pool our resources.”

She stopped midstride and turned to glare at him. “No way. I remember the last time we worked together.”

“That was different. We were sleeping together then. Mixing business and pleasure never works out well.”

She eyed him as if she were dissecting him. He used to love that look from her. Her gold eyes were so bright and intense that they usually gave him chills. Before it was a look of desire, hard lust, saying she wanted to rip his clothes off and have him right there and then. Now, the look just said: I don’t trust you anymore.

Some two years later, it still hurt.

“All right. But we are in this fifty-fifty. You don’t tell me what to do.”

“Okay. That goes the same for you.”

“Fine.”

He smirked. “Do you want to shake on it? Or we could hug and kiss, if that’s what you want.”

She shook her head. “Not likely.” She turned back to the fire escape, but not before Jake saw a slight lift of her luscious full mouth.

He knew she was fighting a smile. He could always make her laugh. And that was probably the problem. He always looked for the humor in the situation to diffuse the tension. Even when he knew deep down that humor was the last thing Gianna was looking for.

He followed her down to the alleyway. Ryan was waiting for them at the bottom. Jake jumped from the last rung. “I hope you saw where it went.”

Ryan shook his head. “Was I supposed to?”

Gianna smirked. “Who is this, your minion?”

“My contact.”

Ryan followed close at Jake’s heels as they all went out onto the street. “Hey, I didn’t know I was supposed to track this dude. I thought I was just the scout. I find the location, you do the chasing and catching and killing.”

“So find us another location.”

“I need a place to plug in.” He lifted the bag hanging around his shoulder. “And a warm place so my fingers don’t freeze off.” Jake knew Ryan always carried his laptop. It was like an extension of him. Jake supposed it was like his 9 mm to him.

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated in a local fast-food joint, drinking bad coffee and eating bad hamburgers. Ryan was doing his thing on his laptop at a separate table. He was searching for all known places of business and home addresses related to the accountant who was housing the demon. Jake hoped they could track it down before it went underground. If it did that, the chances of it resurfacing any time soon would be slim to none. They’d have to wait weeks, possibly even months, before they got another shot at taking it out.

Jake dunked a couple of fries into the ketchup blob on his hamburger wrapper. He noticed Gianna watching him. He popped the fries into his mouth and grinned at her. “Do I have something on my face?”

She smiled. “Just wondering if you’re going to eat all of those.” She gestured to his pile of fries.

He shook his head, and pushed them toward her. She grabbed three at once and dunked them in his ketchup. She folded them into her mouth. A spot of ketchup was left on the side of her mouth.

He grinned again. He’d always loved that about her: the fact that she ate like a guy. She didn’t fuss and obsess over the calories she was putting in her body. She liked to eat and cook. When they’d been together, she’d cook him huge meals with several courses. Sometimes he’d help her in the kitchen, and usually it would end up with them making love on the counters, or table, or he’d pick her up and carry her to the bed. And afterwards, they would return to the kitchen and continue on making the meal, feeling more joy than they had to begin with.

His smile faded. Jake missed those times more than he cared to admit.

Gianna noticed. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, and wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin. “Nothing. Just hoping we can track this bastard down again.”

“We will. Despite everything, we’re both really good at our jobs.”

He nodded, realizing she knew what he’d been thinking about. Them. Their failed relationship. “Well, I can think of something else we were both really good at.”

She smiled around more fries. “Sex was definitely not our problem.” Was that a mischievous gleam in her eyes?

“Nope, it certainly wasn’t.” Jake became uncomfortable in his seat just thinking about the two of them together. The fun they had; the passion that had always swelled between them. “You know, my hotel room has a king-sized bed.”

There was that gleam again. She licked her lips and tilted her head to look at him. She opened her mouth to answer, when Ryan stood up and declared, “I know where the demon’s going.”