Page 61 of Demon Hunger
The crowd looked calm, no sign of any demons at all. I was wondering why we’d been called here when Sage voiced the same concern.
“Everything looks pretty calm, Director. Do you think it was a false alarm?”
Grant paused to observe the crowd and shook his head. “No, not a false alarm. We have lookouts all over the city. They aren’t demon hunters but possess Truesight. They provide us with tips all the time. There are demons here but they’re disguised, so this would be the time to activate your new skill.”
“But what about all these people?” Benjamin asked. “Shouldn’t they be evacuated?”
“We’ve tried to tell the cruise lines that, but they said that if they closed their doors every time there was a demon scare, they would go broke. The tourists also seem immune to any warnings.”
At the rate that demons were being sighted everywhere, people seemed to be growing numb. Still, it was callous of them to behave this way, even when they were informed of an imminent threat.
“So exciting.” Jenna jogged on the spot, looking like a kid waiting for her birthday party to begin.
Regina rolled her eyes as if she were a seasoned pro who despised newbies.
Jenna ignored her, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. I did the same, allowing my Truesight to come forward. As I felt it settle in place, I opened my eyes and scanned the area.
My eyes swept over the crowd—people from different nationalities, speaking a variety of languages. They were all bundled up warmly. Even though it was a sunny day, the chilly wind sliced through you like a knife when it blew from the bay.
I didn’t spot anything amiss among the people. They were all Stales or Skews—nothing out of the ordinary.
“I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary,” Jenna said.
“Me either.”
I caught Regina glaring at me instead of searching for demons. What the hell was her problem?
I shifted my attention away from her and started scanning benches, garbage cans, a couple of homeless guys huddled close to a tree. Nothing.
The flapping of wings sent my heart thundering. I glanced up to see only a group of pigeons taking flight as a little girl ran at them. They blotted the sky for a moment, then were gone.
Pigeons. There were hundreds of them.
My eyes searched the grassy sections and paths in the park. Everywhere I looked, I spotted the fat birds, some pecking the ground, others perching on trees, all looking as perfectly normal as the tourists.
A particularly large pigeon scampered behind a tree, though I barely caught sight of its tail. When it came out on the other side, I gasped. This was no normal pigeon. It had glowing eyes and a hooked beak, and its talons… They glinted like scalpels.
“The pigeons,” I whispered.
“What?” Jenna glanced up at me, confused.
I pointed toward the oblivious demon I’d spotted, which was walking toward a family whose younger kids were scattering popcorn on the ground, trying to attract the winged vermin. They had already enticed a few but were blissfully unaware of the threat headed in their direction.
Hand reaching behind my back, I unsheathed my Queller and took a step forward. I’d barely made the conscious decision to attack when Sage appeared out of nowhere, slashed downward with his sword, and cut the demon down, splitting it in two and turning it into a cloud of disintegrating ashes.
One of the kids jumped back, spilling his popcorn. “He killed the pigeon, mommy,” he cried, pointing a finger at Sage, who stood in a heroic pose, looking as if he expected athank youfor his gallant gesture. Instead, the parents picked up their kids and hurried away in the opposite direction.
“Thankless bastards!” Sage exclaimed.
“Get used to it,” Director Grant said, then pointed past a large bronze statue. “I spotted more that way. C’mon.” He sprinted away, and we followed close behind.
“That felt good,” Sage said as we hurried across the grassy lawn.
Past the statue and down a slight incline, there was some sort of memorial with several large walls with many names written on them. We could look down on it from our vantage point, and easily spotted the people standing in front of it reading the names, as well as the demons perched on top of the walls, ready to swoop down and attack.
“Draw your Quellers,” Director Grant ordered, his own zinging and glinting in the sun as he pulled it out.
The same sound was repeated several times when we followed suit.
