Dark Descent: The Arondight Codex - Book One by R Nicole (best books to read all time TXT) 📗

in here, the Infernal who ruined my friend’s life is still out there. How many other people has it mutated? Ten, twenty?”

“Going after the Infernal is not your problem, Scarlett.”

It always gave me the shivers whenever he used my name instead of Purples. Maybe because I knew he was being serious. Serious Wilder was bad news.

“So, your boyfriend is mad at you because you’re busy training so you can hunt the demon who mutated him? Sounds like a really great guy.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He’s not my—”

“If he’s so short-sighted that he can’t see the sacrifice you’re making to protect humanity, then he’s not worth it,” Wilder stated. “Get over it and move on. He’s dead weight.”

“Dead weight?” I scoffed. “Clearly you’ve never cared about anyone but yourself!”

“And there’s another reason why you’re not leaving the Sanctum.”

I grunted and glanced at the door. This was a control thing, right? My life was spinning into chaos and the only solid thing I had was hunting the Infernal who started all of this. I could get answers and revenge. Impatient or practical, who knew.

“I need to get out of here,” I muttered, my body itching.

Everything ached. From head to toe, I tingled with the need for action. It was a need that couldn’t be sated by training alone. I couldn’t see the results of training like I could the blood on a sword. Besides, I could go back to the flat and get some things. I could bring Jackson something from home. Man, talk about trying to justify my crazy.

I strode towards the door, snatching up my boots on the way. Wilder was oddly silent as I slammed the door closed behind me and stormed through the gym. Ignoring the other Naturals going about their training, I went back to my room, not even stopping to put my boots on until I’d closed myself inside.

Tearing through the chest of drawers, I pulled out the light woollen jumper I wore the day of Jackson’s tournament at the O2. It seemed like years had passed since that night and I scowled. Pushing away the unwanted memories, I dragged the jumper over my head, laced up my boots and threw on my leather jacket.

Fishing the arondight blade out of my trousers, I slid the hilt into the inside pocket of my jacket, then stuffed my keys to the flat in the other. Glancing at my mobile phone, I hesitated. After a moment of deliberation, I left it behind.

The hallway was empty as I left, as were all the others as I made my way towards the exit. The air was stifling, the pressure heavy on my chest. I didn’t know if that was metaphorical or not, but I had to get outside. Once I crossed the threshold, I’d know if this mission was crazy or completely and utterly brilliant.

The foyer was dark as I strode across the marble. I pushed the outer door open with a violent jab, almost expecting an alarm to go off, but the only thing that happened was a blast of cold air buffeting through the gap and tugging at me with icy fingers.

I stepped over the threshold and onto the street. Glancing over my shoulder, all I saw was the illusion that protected the Naturals’ home base from the human world.

No one tried to stop me. No one at all. It was a little too easy if you asked me, but I walked away all the same.

* * *

After weeks of being inside, the outside world had become a strange place.

Everything looked different, it smelled weird, and I didn’t quite fit. As I walked towards the river, I knew it was me that’d changed, not the city. London was one of those places that was always the same, no matter how much time had passed. It was this ancient, heaving mass of Englishness that would survive anything—fires, wars, famines, demon invasions. It was the inhabitants who evolved.

Slinking down Kentish Town Road, I stuck to the shadows, avoiding pools of light. Whenever I came across another pedestrian, I crossed the street. The result had been an erratic zigzag across London, but I didn’t know any other way to remain undetectable. Wilder hadn’t even begun to teach me how to use my Light, and I wasn’t keen on repeating my first attempt.

As I approached home, I passed the kebab shop. It was lit up, late-night customers coming and going, all of them probably drunk. Honestly, I kind of missed 8-bit. I hardly fit in amongst all the gamers but working there was the closest I’d ever been to liking what I did for a living.

Glancing up at the flat, I hesitated and stumbled a step before coming to a complete halt. The lights were on.

Ducking into the lane across the street, I flattened against the brick wall of the neighbouring building and focused on the windows.

It didn’t make sense. Jackson was still in the vaults at the Sanctum and I was here. No one else had a key.

A hot poker of rage stabbed me though the chest as I watched for movement above. Someone was in our flat. Our flat. How dare a stranger go through our stuff. At this point, I seriously doubted it was a human burglar, so knowing a demon was pawing through my underwear drawer made me want to projectile vomit.

The arondight blade was heavy in my pocket. If I went upstairs, I’d have to be prepared to slice through anything that attacked me. Wilder was wrong about the way I’d killed that lesser demon—that was so not a fluke. I could do it if I had to and right now, it looked like I had to.

Don’t think, Scarlett. Just do.

I tensed, my head tilting slightly to the side. Movement. Someone was behind me.

It was a gradual awareness, like a cold drop of water had oozed down my spine, chilling me as it went. Eyes were boring into my back, and warm, slimy