Mag-log inCallie Evans was brought up as a hunter, trained to fight supernatural creatures - including vampires. Especially vampires. She never thought she'd fall in love with one.
view moreIt was all my fault. I’d hesitated, and, because of that, Old Tim was dead. The demon had lured me in, with what were most likely lies, and I’d taken too long to strike. And I’d forgotten another important rule of hunting, though it was an unspoken guideline more than an actual rule: don’t gloat.Maybe, if the demon hadn’t known it was going to die, it would have left Old Tim alive. I berated myself angrily the whole way back to Seafall, and as my emotional exhaustion began to set in, I continued to berate myself in a bitter inner voice, rather than the angry one, cold and almost toneless.Death was an unfortunate part of the reality of hunting. But unnecessary death was something far, far worse, and this time I’d been the one to cause it.I’d gone through the motions of the clean up rigidly, hardly noticing what my body was doing. I was less than a passenger as we sorted t
The stadium in Beerbridge had been built on an old apple orchard, which explained why their team, Beerbridge Town F.C., was nicknamed the Apples. However, I didn’t think it explained why half the stadium was filled with middle aged men wearing cartoon apples with gaudy, beaming faces on their heads.I’d played a lot of sports in my time, and football had been one that I’d enjoyed. I’d never understood the appeal of watching it, though. I wanted to be an active participant, rather than dressing myself up like an idiot and shouting from the sidelines. I’d been to a few university home games to watch Harper (he’d played for the Seconds), but that was more to be a supportive girlfriend than out of any real interest in watching the sport itself.Unfortunately for us, we needed to fit in with the heaving crowd. And that meant buying apple heads of our own.“I feel ridiculous,” Me
Once we were in the right place, Old Tim – and the demon possessing his body – were surprisingly easy to find.It was a relief to fall into the familiar routine of hunting. It gave me a chance to shut out my thoughts regarding Harper and Cyrus, and allowed me to focus fully on the task at hand. I was in my element here, stalking the streets of Beerbridge, my hand gripping the rowan knife in my pocket.I’d had to move it from the thigh holster – cool as it had looked – so that I could swing it quickly when the time came. Though Sierra seemed confident with the words of the exorcism, words of power designed to send the creature back to Hell, I couldn’t leave anything to chance. Who knew what poor Old Tim was dealing with, trapped inside his own body and unable to move or think or speak. He was a passenger, as far as our previous experience told us, anyway. I wrinkled my nose at the thought, and clutche
To put it mildly, I’d been surprised to learn that a demon had taken up residence in the neighbouring town of Beerbridge. It was a little bigger than Seafall, and sat off to the east. It was known primarily for its large harbour and docks, so I supposed that a travelling creature, such as a demon, would see the benefits of settling there for a while.There were plenty of bodies ripe for possession, and, if it got bored, there was easy access to other port towns readily available.Though I was, of course, not glad that a demon had taken root in Beerbridge, I was glad of the distraction it provided me with. It all worked out perfectly – I had Sunday off work, and Susan, of all people, had found us a lead. Sierra had followed it up, and we’d gathered a few of our number to track the monster.Torre had been eager to stay behind in Seafall. The vampires were her main concern, and she’d asked Beau to st