won’t even tell me what state it happened in. You know the Council isn’t going to look into it.”
Frieda hesitated. “Maybe not,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you should, Abi. The Council is watching you.”
Abigail felt a chill run across her spine. “Watching me?”
Abigail glanced at the street, wondering if she had another tail besides Haatim, her innocent bystander. Maybe someone else was following her, and this tail was good at staying out of sight.
Or, maybe Haatim was playing her, letting her think he was just a clueless bystander…
“After everything that happened, I can’t blame them,” Frieda said. “You had a demon inside you.”
“I know,” Abigail said, blowing out a sigh.
“You don’t remember anything from before the demon took you?”
“No,” Abigail said, annoyed. “We’ve been over this, Frieda. I don’t remember anything from while the demon was in control or a few weeks before.”
“OK.”
“So they don’t trust me?”
“No, they don’t,” Frieda replied. “And in their defense, you don’t have the greatest track record. You can’t keep going MIA.”
“All right, all right, I get it.”
“You’ll stop dodging my calls?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll stop looking into Arthur? I promised him I would keep you safe.”
“And I promised him I would find him,” Abigail said. “That’s what I’m going to do.”
“Abi, the Council might not care what happened to Arthur, but I do. I’m looking into it, and I promise that as soon as I find something you will be the first person I call.”
“We should be talking to—”
“No,” Frieda said. “That’s one line we cannot cross. You saw what it did to Arthur.”
Abigail fell silent. She did know, first hand, what it had done to her dearest friend and mentor. It had brought the greatest of all Hunters down, casting a shadow over his entire legacy.
But, that was a small factor in the greater picture. No matter what he had done or what he had become, she was going to rescue him from the clutches of whatever hellspawn was holding him.
With or without Frieda’s help.
“Fine,” she lied. “I won’t look into it.”
“Good.”
“What does the Council want me to do?”
“We’ve had reports about unusual activity in the Smokey Mountains. Way out in Tennessee in the middle of nowhere. A small town called Raven’s Peak.”
“Raven’s Peak?”
“You’ve heard of it?” Frieda asked, surprised.
“No,” Abigail said, frowning. She didn’t know why, but she thought she might have heard the name before. Maybe someone had mentioned it a long time ago.
“It’s tiny, population less than three thousand. Not many have heard of it beyond the people who live there.”
“What kind of activity are you talking about?”
“It wasn’t clear in our reports, but locals were spreading stories of seeing and hearing strange things.”
“That happens all the time,” Abigail said. “It’s usually nothing.”
“Still, we need you to look into it,” Frieda replied.
“Why me? This sounds like grunt work.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“There are better things I could be doing, like taking care of high priority targets or tracking down demons that might know something about Arthur.”
“How’s your wrist?” Frieda asked.
A pointed statement: they both knew her wrist hurt like hell. Abigail had stopped taking pain medicine for it weeks ago, but it was still throbbing and difficult to use for extended periods. It had taken months to heal enough to remove the cast and months more before she could put any pressure on it. Most of her other scars from that fateful day had healed or faded, but her hand was still recovering.
A gift from the demon who had inhabited her body.
“The Council is just trying to keep me busy,” Abigail argued.
“No doubt,” Frieda said. “In any case, I expect you to be there by tomorrow morning.”
“Fine,” Abigail said. “But I’m going to hold you to
Frieda hesitated. “Maybe not,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you should, Abi. The Council is watching you.”
Abigail felt a chill run across her spine. “Watching me?”
Abigail glanced at the street, wondering if she had another tail besides Haatim, her innocent bystander. Maybe someone else was following her, and this tail was good at staying out of sight.
Or, maybe Haatim was playing her, letting her think he was just a clueless bystander…
“After everything that happened, I can’t blame them,” Frieda said. “You had a demon inside you.”
“I know,” Abigail said, blowing out a sigh.
“You don’t remember anything from before the demon took you?”
“No,” Abigail said, annoyed. “We’ve been over this, Frieda. I don’t remember anything from while the demon was in control or a few weeks before.”
“OK.”
“So they don’t trust me?”
“No, they don’t,” Frieda replied. “And in their defense, you don’t have the greatest track record. You can’t keep going MIA.”
“All right, all right, I get it.”
“You’ll stop dodging my calls?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll stop looking into Arthur? I promised him I would keep you safe.”
“And I promised him I would find him,” Abigail said. “That’s what I’m going to do.”
“Abi, the Council might not care what happened to Arthur, but I do. I’m looking into it, and I promise that as soon as I find something you will be the first person I call.”
“We should be talking to—”
“No,” Frieda said. “That’s one line we cannot cross. You saw what it did to Arthur.”
Abigail fell silent. She did know, first hand, what it had done to her dearest friend and mentor. It had brought the greatest of all Hunters down, casting a shadow over his entire legacy.
But, that was a small factor in the greater picture. No matter what he had done or what he had become, she was going to rescue him from the clutches of whatever hellspawn was holding him.
With or without Frieda’s help.
“Fine,” she lied. “I won’t look into it.”
“Good.”
“What does the Council want me to do?”
“We’ve had reports about unusual activity in the Smokey Mountains. Way out in Tennessee in the middle of nowhere. A small town called Raven’s Peak.”
“Raven’s Peak?”
“You’ve heard of it?” Frieda asked, surprised.
“No,” Abigail said, frowning. She didn’t know why, but she thought she might have heard the name before. Maybe someone had mentioned it a long time ago.
“It’s tiny, population less than three thousand. Not many have heard of it beyond the people who live there.”
“What kind of activity are you talking about?”
“It wasn’t clear in our reports, but locals were spreading stories of seeing and hearing strange things.”
“That happens all the time,” Abigail said. “It’s usually nothing.”
“Still, we need you to look into it,” Frieda replied.
“Why me? This sounds like grunt work.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“There are better things I could be doing, like taking care of high priority targets or tracking down demons that might know something about Arthur.”
“How’s your wrist?” Frieda asked.
A pointed statement: they both knew her wrist hurt like hell. Abigail had stopped taking pain medicine for it weeks ago, but it was still throbbing and difficult to use for extended periods. It had taken months to heal enough to remove the cast and months more before she could put any pressure on it. Most of her other scars from that fateful day had healed or faded, but her hand was still recovering.
A gift from the demon who had inhabited her body.
“The Council is just trying to keep me busy,” Abigail argued.
“No doubt,” Frieda said. “In any case, I expect you to be there by tomorrow morning.”
“Fine,” Abigail said. “But I’m going to hold you to
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