Dark Descent: The Arondight Codex - Book One, R Nicole [best feel good books TXT] 📗

of life. I never argued unless confronted. I supposed Wilder was confronting and not in a sexual kind of way. He had predator written all over him, which made this whole excursion stupid to the extreme.

Should’ve ditched him when I had the chance, I thought. The moment the train stops at the next station, I’m making a run for it. Then tomorrow, I’m going to make an appointment to get my meds checked. Demons and magic don’t exist.

A man at the opposite end of the carriage caught my eye and smiled. I was immediately skeptical because tube etiquette stated you don’t make direct eye contact while commuting. I looked past him, then back again and tensed. I was sure his eyes had turned completely white, but then again, I also thought I was tripping.

An announcement crackled over the speakers. ‘The next station is Moorgate. Alight here for the Metropolitan, Circle, and Hammersmith and City lines.’

Wilder wasn’t looking at me. His head had lolled back and his arms were crossed over his chest, exuding total nonchalance.

The train rocketed into the station, slowing until it came to a stop. The doors opened and I counted. One, two, three… I shot to my feet and bolted, leaping off the train and onto the platform.

“Hey!” Wilder bellowed behind me, causing people to turn.

I didn’t look back. I ran down the platform, following the exit signs. I took the stairs two at a time, then bolted up the escalators, brushing past commuters standing on the right. Emerging into the causeway, a hand grasped my arm and I turned. White eyes stared back at me and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth grinned. I shrieked, causing the few late-night passengers and Underground employees to turn and stare. I tore away and vaulted over the barriers, determined not to look back.

Outside, it was nearing midnight, and although London never really went to sleep, this part of the city was mostly empty. I looked left, then right, and when I heard Wilder calling out behind me, I sprinted to the right, mainly because it was the direction I was facing.

Go away, go away, go away!

I crossed a street, ignoring the red man on the traffic lights, the sound of pounding footsteps spurring me on. My thighs burned and my breath twisted my lungs, giving away how unfit I really was. Adrenalin and a little bit of fear were the only things driving me now.

Darting down a side street, I looked for a place to slip into before Wilder could reach the corner, but I tripped and almost fell when I saw a man standing in the middle of the road, his head at an odd angle. I skidded and barrelled into a tight lane between two buildings, my heart galloping faster than it’d ever gone before.

The sound of my boots hitting uneven cobblestones echoed around me, then I was on another street. Directly in front was a fenced off garden—one of those posh green spaces that was reserved for rich people who lived in equally posh houses around it. A wrought-iron fence circled the entire thing, thick with green shiny paint and topped with narrowly spaced pointy bits. There was no way over, so I went left, slipping between two parked cars and onto the road.

I gasped as a figure appeared in front of me and I skidded. Pivoting, I pushed to the left and legged it down the next side street.

Unfortunately, Wilder was waiting for me.

He held something in his hand, and when he saw me, he flicked his wrist and a blade came to life, twisting and shooting out a shower of white-hot sparks.

“Get down!” he bellowed, striding in my direction.

For a split-second, I thought he was talking to me, but I felt a gust of air from behind and my feet slipped out from underneath me. I landed with a thud, my breath wheezing, and Wilder leapt over me like an Olympic hurdler.

He collided with something and sparks showered down around me. Covering my head with my arms, I shrieked as I saw him fend off a creature straight from the stuff nightmares were made of.

It used to be a man, but its arms and knees were all bent backwards and it was crawling around like a spider, its head twisted at an odd angle and its teeth… I almost puked into the gutter. Its mouth was full of razor sharp points and a black, forked tongue waved about, dripping giant globules of saliva on the asphalt. Its eyes flashed white, its shirt was torn, the paisley tie it’d been wearing was flapping about as it skittered over a parked car, emitting an awful clicking sound as it went.

It seemed too fast for Wilder, who was swiping at it with his sword. The demon hunter was leaping and twisting like a ninja, dodging blows from clawed hands. The air vibrated as the pair collided, and the creature—what I was assuming was a demon at this point—closed its jaws around Wilder’s sword and crunched. White sparks burst out of its mouth, and it wailed in pain, but didn’t let go.

“Bastard!” Wilder shouted. He pushed back against it one more time, then the blade disappeared in a shower of white sparks.

My expression turned into one of dread as what was left of the sword was knocked from his hand and clattered onto the road. The blade skidded across the footpath and what remained of the hilt landed at my feet. Wilder let out a roar and shoved his shoulder into the demon’s chest and heaved. It went flying, tumbling down the road over and over, until it sprung back up and launched itself towards him with alarming speed.

Without thinking, I picked up the bladeless sword. Holding it up to the light, I wondered if this was another one of those invisible things until my touch seemed to activate something. The end of the handle erupted as the sword emerged from its sheath, the blade flashing a brilliant