Dark Descent Page 15

  “That’s insulting,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I can’t do everything, thank you very much. If anything, I’m Scully and you’re Mulder.”

  “I beg to differ,” Wilder declared, “I’m Scully and you’re Mulder.”

  “No, I’m Scully because she’s more level-headed. Mulder is the crazy one.”

  “From where I’m standing, you’re looking like the crazy one in the equation.”

  “Wilder!”

  “Let’s see how Mary Sue you are, Mulder,” he said, tossing me a wooden sword.

  My fingers grazed it, and it slipped and fell onto the floor with a clatter. “See? There’s no Mary Sue in this room. I suck at hand-eye coordination.”

  “Pick it up,” he commanded.

  Grasping the sword, I held it up. I had no idea what he wanted me to do with it, so I just stood there like a lump.

  Wilder kicked off his boots and moved out onto the mat. “Try to hit me.”

  “Try to hit you?” I repeated lamely.

  “You wanted to fight back. Well, Purples, show me what you’ve got.”

  I made a face and pulled of my boots, tossing my socks over my shoulder. Padding out onto the mat, I held the wooden practice sword up. How did I do this? Just swipe it at him? The thought of slapping him down was too good to be true, and I knew the catch was going to hurt, but I gave it my best shot anyway.

  I swung with all my strength, and Wilder twisted, bringing his sword back to meet mine. They clacked together so hard that I lost my grip, the sword fell and I followed it.

  I landed with an oomph, and he cocked an eyebrow.

  “That was lame.”

  I groaned and scrambled to my feet. “I don’t know anything about fighting with a sword. Well, except for the slice and stab part.”

  “This exercise isn’t about that,” he said. “It’s about instinct. Now, try again.”

  I lunged, and Wilder’s sword slammed into mine with a clack. I pushed against him, but the wooden hilt slipped from my grasp and I stumbled forward. A second later, I was whacked on the arse with the flat of his practice blade.

  “Ow,” I complained, rubbing my left cheek.

  Wilder kicked my sword back towards me. “Again.”

  Picking it up, I readied myself for another arse whooping. This time, I waited and considered my options before striking, but when I finally took a swing, I was rapped on the side.

  “Dead,” he declared.

  Grimacing, I felt anger start to rise and tried again. Then again and again. Every time Wilder knocked me down, I got back up, determined to not let him win. I landed on my side, jarred my shoulder, twisted my knee, fell flat on my back, bruised my arse, and hit my funny bone all before Wilder finally confiscated the wooden sword from me.

  “It was a fluke,” he declared, setting the swords back into the bracket on the wall.

  “What was a fluke?” I demanded, panting and wiping the sweat off my forehead.

  “Killing that demon on our evening run through Moorgate.”

  “Hang on a second, I—”

  “I’m here to train you to become a Natural, Scarlett,” he interrupted, his brow creasing. Man, he was pissed at me. “I won’t listen to your excuses. I’ve been training my whole life, you’ve been here a single morning. If you don’t want to die on your first mission, then shut up and listen.”

  I swallowed hard and shrunk away from him.

  “Watch, listen, learn,” he said, “and have a little patience. A sword is nothing without the wisdom to wield it.”

  Oh my God, he was Yoda. Yeah, if Yoda was a six-foot-two arsehole wrapped in punk rock hipster paper with an anarchy bow stuck on top, then I guess that’s what Wilder was. I was beginning to see why Greer paired me with him, despite his ominous whisperings in my ear the previous day.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he demanded with a scowl.

  Realising I was staring, and had been for a full minute, I blinked. “What now, boss?”

  He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Cardio.”

  “Cardio?” I imagined running on a treadmill and lifting weights, and my enthusiasm level dropped.

  “Cardio.” He narrowed his eyes, signalling it wasn’t open for discussion, and snatched up his water bottle.

  There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, but if we went out into the gym, we wouldn’t be alone.

  “But,” I began.

  “But what?”

  There’d never been a chance to bring it up until now.

  “Wilder…”

  He turned and walked back towards me. From the look on his face, I gathered he expected I was about to make another excuse.

  “Why is my Light purple?” I blurted.

  He stilled, and then picked up a strand of my hair. I tensed, the gesture too intimate for a guy like him. Especially when he made his annoyance at my presence abundantly clear every chance he got.

  “Why is your hair purple?” he asked, and I shrugged. “Exactly.”

  “I never told anyone. I got the feeling that it wasn’t… normal. Not that any of this is, but I don’t think I can cope with being super-supernatural.”

  “Good, you should keep it to yourself. Around here, people who are different…” He sniffed and glanced away, his expression hardening. “You won’t need to reveal your Light for some time. There’re stages of training you need to complete before you can even think of learning those basics. We have time to figure it out.”

  “Am I in some sort of trouble?”

  He shook his head. “No, but this is a complicated world, Purples. There’s a fine line between Light and Dark, and no one ever took into consideration those that live in the shadows.”

  I narrowed my eyes and nodded. I got it more than he realised. Shadows didn’t fit in a black and white world. They needed both light and darkness to exist and their mere presence threatened both worlds. There was something different about me, but until I understood where I fit in the hierarchy of the Naturals, I’d have to play it safe.

  “Do you live in those shadows?” I asked, thinking about all the gossip I’d heard about him.

  Wilder grunted and narrowed his eyes. “The less you know about me, the better.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-one.”

  “Really? I thought you were pre-pubescent.”

  “You’re not getting out of cardio, Purples. Adrenalin only gets you so far.” He pointed towards the door. “Out.”

  I pouted and strode past him into the gym, where I became intimately acquainted with the treadmill. As my feet pounded and my lungs burned, I was painfully aware of the spectacle my presence had created. I was the elephant in the room, physically and metaphorically.

  Ignoring the prying eyes, I focused on the wall in front of me. I couldn’t lose my nerve on day one.

  And Wilder… Could I trust him? I felt like we’d shared something after our reluctant adventures together, and I wasn’t talking about the colony of butterflies I was incubating in his name. He’d warned me about exposing my Light, then implied that he’d help me.

  Glancing over my shoulder, my stomach fluttered as I watched him lift a set of weights. His muscles tensed, and I swallowed hard.

  Whose side was he on?

  The next week went by in much the same fashion. Wilder beat my arse—in a non-sexual way—and I worked out until I either threw up in the corner or collapsed.

  Mornings were for stretching, cardio, and strength training, afternoons were a mixture of hand-to-hand combat and theory like Demonology: How to Spot and Identify. We were nowhere near starting the unit on maim and kill yet.

  I did know the smoke demons who possessed humans were called Infernals. The spider-like creature we’d fought in Moorgate was a lesser demon who impersonated a human but didn’t use possession. Their bodies were solid and awkward, though they had little intelligence. Wilder called them foot soldiers, or ‘cannon fodder’. There were also many kinds of greate
r demons. They were more powerful, smarter, had their own version of Light, and appeared to be just like us, though some had certain extremities that were very demon. Balan were one kind, but not the highest in the ranks of Darkness.

  By the end of the seventh day, things had finally started to get easier as I settled into the punishing routine Wilder had set for me. My least favourite part was dinner. And lunch. Oh, and breakfast.

  The kitchen had been given strict instructions on what food I was allowed to eat, so that evening, like a special snowflake, I collected my pre-prepared meal and turned to find someplace to sit. Wilder had said something about muscle and protein and another thing about fat, all of which went over my head. All I knew, was that I was forbidden from eating anything that’d been dipped into a deep fryer or rolled in powdered sugar. Pizza night was out then.

  Romy, Martin, Alo, and Valeria were sitting at the middle table, laughing and chattering amongst themselves. When Romy saw me balancing my tray and staring out across the kitchens, she waved me over.

  “You okay?” she asked, raising her eyebrows as I perched gingerly in an empty chair.

  “My bruises have bruises.” I winced as I tried to find a portion of my butt cheeks that didn’t hurt when I sat.

  “He’s a tough mentor,” she replied, smothering a laugh. “Sometimes I don’t think Wilder knows what pain is.”

  “Then there’s the bit where I suspect he lost his taste buds.” I stabbed my fork into a spear of steamed asparagus and held it aloft with a grimace.

  “Sucks,” Valeria said.

  “Huh?” My forehead creased.

  “Having to train with Wilder,” Alo replied.

  “I’d rather choke on demon vomit than train with him,” Martin added, sinking his boot in for good measure. “Be careful, Scarlett.”

  “Careful of what? His stellar personality?”

  The Naturals laughed as if I’d told the funniest joke of all time.

  “Be careful he doesn’t lead you astray,” Valeria explained. “Stick to the Codex and you’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, is this the part where I panic?”

  “Wilder has his own idea of what the Codex looks like,” Romy said. “Don’t stress too much about it.”

  “I’m being tested, aren’t I?” I groaned and began to furiously slice the chicken breast on my plate. “I knew it.”

  “It’s going to be harder for you, that’s for sure.” Alo shrugged and went back to his meal, shovelling food into his mouth.

  I drifted off as the others started to talk about the comings and goings of the Sanctum. Scoffing down my dinner, I was hardly aware of their tales of demon fights, exorcisms, and routine patrols out in the city. Usually, I’d be all over it, but tonight my thoughts were on Jackson.

  I’d been doing the bad friend thing again. Night after night, I’d only been able to drag myself to my room before I collapsed, so I hadn’t been to see him since I’d recovered from my Light hangover. Wilder kept telling me he was fine and if anything changed, Ramona would let me know, but I’d made him a promise. I’d go to see him when I could, but a week? It was far too long to leave him down there alone. Alone and mutating.

  Saying bye to the table to Naturals, I dropped off my empty tray and made my way downstairs, my thighs protesting with every step.

  Two flights of stairs later, I shuffled into the vault and crumpled against the bars of Jackson’s cell.

  “You didn’t come back,” he said, not turning around.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, my limbs like jelly. “They put me into training and Wilder’s been brutal. I’m one big bruise.”

  “Wilder?” Jackson turned, and my heart sank when I saw the anger in his eyes—eyes that flashed silver.

  I nodded and curled my hands around the bars. The metal was cool against my skin, but Jackson’s glare burned straight through me.

  “It’s been a week since I’ve seen you,” he said, “or at least I think it has. I haven’t seen daylight in so long, I’m not even sure if there is a sun anymore. There could’ve been a nuclear holocaust for all I know.”

  “Jackson…” I shook the bars, but they didn’t budge. Damn this cell. “I’m sorry, okay? The schedule they’ve got me on is more than I can handle. Five in the morning until eight at night.”

  “You’re going to be one of them?” He looked aghast and it kind of hurt.

  “Yeah,” I muttered.

  “Scarlett…”

  I waited, my eyes prickling with tears.

  “Ah, Scarlett.” A familiar singsong voice filled the metallic room, reverberating back and forth. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How is your training going?”

  I spun on my heel and came face to face with Greer. Perfect Greer, who’d come down from her exalted position sitting on the Codex to see my best friend.

  “Fine,” I said a little too sharply.

  “I see Wilder has been hard on you,” she noted. “That’s good.”

  I stared at her in surprise, then glanced at Jackson. She seemed rather bitchy tonight. I was starting to sense I’d intruded on a pre-organised interlude. Was Greer interested in Jackson? Like, romantically? Absurd. It was just the demon thing. That’s all. She was checking on him because her position demanded it.

  “Jackson is doing just fine,” she said with a sickly-sweet smile. “Ramona has been able to almost completely halt the transformation.”

  “Really?” I glanced at Jackson hopefully, but his attention was on Greer. “That’s great.”

  “She believes there will be no adverse effects,” she added. “Perhaps some enhancements, but nothing negative.”

  “I don’t need my glasses anymore,” Jackson confirmed. “And I don’t seem to need much sleep, though you look like you need it, Scarlett.”

  “He’s right.” Greer clucked her tongue. “You should get your rest. Wilder won’t allow you to have a day to recuperate. Training never stops for a Natural.”

  “But…”

  “It’s okay, Scarlett,” Jackson said. “You look exhausted. I get it.”

  “Please don’t be mad at me,” I murmured.

  “I’m not,” he replied, edging towards the bars. “I’m angry now, but I’ll get over it. This is a huge, scary thing for me. You’ve got your own transformation to worry about.”

  “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “You won’t.”His voice held a promise. Glancing at Greer, he added, “Go. Get some rest. I’ll be okay.”

  Reluctantly, I backed away from the bars, my heart heavy. This didn’t feel right, which only made me stew over the warnings Wilder had whispered in my ear. Something was going on here. Something bigger than me, Jackson, and even Wilder.

  As I walked away, I knew I was losing him, and life without Jackson wasn’t a life I wanted to live.

  15

  I landed on my back, the impact forcing the air out of my lungs.

  Gasping, I stared at the ceiling, my heart beating so hard it almost burst through my chest cavity.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wilder declared, standing over me, “but after showing so much promise, you’re actually getting worse.”

  I wheezed, my brow creasing tenfold. After my visit to the vaults last night, I’d stewed over Jackson so much that I’d worked myself into a frenzy. We never argued. Never. I’d stared up at the skylight, studying the stained glass Lady of the Lake and wished I could’ve gone back in time and visited him more often. Or immediately left to hunt down the piece of trash who mutated him the moment I woke up.

  So, due to all the stewing, I hadn’t gotten any sleep that meant anything, but had gained puffy eyes and a foul mood. I’d brought them along to training, especially for Wilder. Now we had matching his and hers arseholery.

  Rolling onto my side, I pushed myself up, my lungs searing. Wilder’s way of training was so brutal, and I had to wonder who pissed him off as a child. I guessed he had his reasons for being the way he was, but he didn’t have to take it out
on me by flipping my poor bruised ego over his shoulder.

  “Get up,” he said. “Pain is—”

  “Weakness leaving the body?” I interrupted.

  “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

  Scowling, I forced myself to my feet. Wilder wasn’t helping soothe my foul mood, but what did I expect? A lollipop? Actually, now I thought about it…

  “Get it off your chest, Scarlett,” he said. “I don’t particularly want to hear it, but at least then we can get on with more important things.”

  I wiped my brow. “Jackson’s mad at me.”

  “Lover’s tiff?” Wilder shot back with a smirk.

  “How many times do I have to tell you? Jackson and I aren’t a thing. We’re friends.”

  “You’re so blind, Purples. That nerdy little hybrid is in love with you.”

  “Yeah? Well Greer’s been going to see him every day since he got here,” I fired back. “She’s very invested in him, just so you know.”

  His stupid smirk faded, and I knew I’d hit the right button.

  “What’s this really about, Purples?” he asked, his tone turning sour.

  I sucked a sharp breath through my teeth. There were so many things jacked up about our current situation, and it was difficult to keep up with all the plot points.

  “Jackson’s mutating into a demon hybrid,” I declared. “And what about the Infernal who did this to him?”

  “What about it?”

  I threw my hands into the air and scoffed, “What about it? Bloody hell, Wilder. You kill it, that’s what you do!”

  He raised his eyebrows. “And that there is why you won’t be allowed to leave the Sanctum any time soon.”

  “So, I’m a prisoner?”

  “You’re on probation. There’s a difference. Besides, if you go out hunting with that kind of attitude, you’ll get yourself possessed and locked in the vault, too. Vendettas don’t usually end well.”

  I faced the rack of arondight blades and scowled. Maybe not, but at least those fools were doing something. That Infernal was harassing me. Maybe if I went outside the Sanctum…

  “What good am I in here?” I asked. “Getting my arse beat, losing my best friend, and suffering through your constant barrage of insults. It’s one humiliation after another with you people.”