Read Hunters in the Night Online

Authors: Ramsey Isler

Hunters in the Night (14 page)

I
took a moment to think, and then said, “I want answers.”

“To
what questions?”

“Why
are nightcrafters such assholes?” I said.

“Because
only assholes know how to wield power,” Kellar said without missing a beat.
“Next question.”

“Why
did you leave me with these memories?”

He
paused. Everything about him paused. I think he even stopped breathing. I
cursed the darkness. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to look into his eyes
and see the truth there.

“I’ll
make you an offer,” he said after a few moments of silence. “Tell me what I
want to know, and I’ll tell you what you want to know. A fair deal.”

Kellar
had always been a seductive manipulator. He knew how to get what he wanted by
finding a person’s deepest desires and exploiting them. He knew the question
that had burned in my mind for all this time, and now he was taking full
advantage by offering me answers. I knew that he would keep his word — he would
tell me exactly what his motivations were if I just gave him what he wanted. It
was tempting.
Very
tempting.

“No
deal,” I said.

“That
is unfortunate,” Kellar said. “But I’ll give it time. As you know, the dark has
a way of convincing people to change their minds.”

“How
long are you going to keep me here?” I asked.

“That,”
Kellar said, “is entirely up to you.”

I
felt his presence disappear. Kellar had left me alone and in the dark, just as
he had long ago when all of this started.

CHAPTER 9

 

 

I
was seventeen when I first met Kellar at that acting school.

For
years after, I was his shadow. Where he went, I went. Sometimes our travels led
us to interesting places. There was one time we went on a private yacht to play
around with magic in the middle of the ocean. I still remember it like it was
yesterday. There’s nothing like night magic in the middle of the vast emptiness
of the ocean. We created waves twenty feet high, and lifted whole schools of fish out of the water to
make them twirl in the air. That was a life-changing experience, but that kind
of outdoor training was rare. Most of the time, my training required me to practice
in some dark room somewhere.

While
normal teens were out enjoying their high school prom and graduation, I was
learning the dark arts . . . the
real
dark arts. I spent hours upon
hours in total darkness. There were times when I desperately longed for the
light. Light deprivation has been used as a form of torture by some. For the
nightcrafters, that torture is supposed to become comforting. But humans were
born to be children of the sun, and nightcrafters-in-training often crack after
months away from its warm embrace.

It’s
not just about not seeing the light. As Kellar informed me before I started the
deep training, our bodies react to light and produce hormones that keep us
mentally and physically healthy. Without that natural regular dose of sunshine,
depression starts to set in. Anyone who has been through a murky Midwestern
winter can tell you the truth in that. Throw in the additional effects of being
essentially blind for extended periods, and having to worry about nightmarish
creatures devouring you alive if you slip up, and you’ve got a challenge only
the toughest students survive.

I
was nineteen when it all went to shit for me. Kellar had me training in the
basement of an abandoned school at the time. When the school had still been
open, the basement level had small rectangular windows right at the bottom of
the building so the basement rooms could get natural light, but when I was
there they were all boarded up and blacked out. Although the school had been
empty for years, it still smelled of rubber cement and crayons. Sheets of paper
ruffled under my feet like flat, fallen leaves.

The
school had a long and sordid history that led to its closing. There were
stories of severe punishment, teacher suicides, and a janitor who went
insane. Some people thought the place was haunted, or cursed. The truth was
that it just happened to be on a Rift hotspot.

According
to Kellar, hotspots are a mystery even to the most experienced nightcrafters.
For some reason, there are rare areas where the power pouring out of the Rift
is just incredible. When I connected with the Rift in the darkness of that
basement, it didn’t feel like I was floating in an inky lake. It was a vast
ocean, and the waves were much bigger. Kellar tasked me with controlling all
that raw power. It was supposed to be a major milestone in my training as a
master of the dark.

When
we arrived at the school, Kellar taught me the spells I’d need to strengthen my
connection to the Rift without losing myself. Soon, I was able to attain a
deeper connection with the magic. Magic was no longer just something I did — it
was what I was. I felt like part of me was melting into the dark. I felt like I
could do anything, know anything. For a while I felt like I never wanted to
leave the dark.

Kellar
sensed the change happening in me and, as he often did, pushed me to the
breaking point. The final step in this training exercise involved controlling a
pack of nachtjäger. Kellar summoned them and they appeared almost instantly.
The creatures coalesced out of the dark like a gas quickly transforming into a
solid. They were shadows given form and they were just as terrifying as they’d
always been, even with my newly strengthened connection to the Rift. Up until
that point, I’d spent my short nightcrafting career avoiding nachtjäger or
trying to throw them off my trail. But that night was different. That night, I
became their master.

I’m
not sure exactly how it happened. It was like a switch went on inside me and
there was no more fear. With that confidence came a new surge of strength that
exuded throughout the Rift. The nachtjäger felt it immediately, and they backed
off. They lowered their heads. Their fearsome jaws closed, and they were
silent. They were like little puppies cowering before an angry master. For just
a moment, they were afraid of
me
.

It
should have been thrilling. I was supposed to be ecstatic about my newfound
mastery of the dark and the most dangerous creatures in it. But I didn’t feel
any of that. Something was missing. Even though I got my first glimpse of the
true potential of a nightcrafter, I wasn’t satisfied.

I
wasn’t
happy
.

All
that time in the dark had drained me of happiness. Even the thing that I worked
so hard for didn’t bring me joy. All I felt was a sterile sense of accomplishment.
It was power for power’s sake, and it left me feeling hollow inside. It’s
terrifying to get the thing you desperately wanted for so long, and then
realize you don’t want it anymore. In an instant, I was lost.

I
lost my focus, and I lost my control of the magic. The nachtjäger could feel my
despair. They sniffed it out like fresh blood, and I could feel their hunger
and excitement grow. They were no longer afraid of me. I was prey now. But I
didn’t care. Nothing mattered.

Just
as the nachtjäger were closing in, Kellar brought up an incredible wave of
force that knocked them back. Fear found them again, and they disappeared back
through the Rift. I must have fainted after that, or Kellar put me to sleep.
When I awoke I was in my bed back home — he had brought me back to my parent’s
place. I’ll never forget his expression. He looked like a man who had just lost
his best friend.

He
left after that and I didn’t see him again. My parents were overjoyed to see me
— I’d been missing for months. But I had changed. I wasn’t their little boy
anymore, and things between us were never the same.

I
never got over Kellar leaving me. That image of his face, shrouded in the
deepest kind of disappointment, was burned into my mind. Dominique would
probably say that I have issues with failure, but that’s not it. I don’t feel
like I failed. I didn’t quit. I didn’t screw up any spells. In fact, I was
doing pretty well. The end of my magic career had nothing to do with ability. I
just simply and suddenly came to the realization that the nightcraft would
require me to sacrifice something I would not give up — my happiness. I refused
to become a man who would sacrifice genuine joy for the thrill of power.

So
I didn’t care about not being a member of the special nightcrafter club. I just
wanted to know why Kellar left me with all that knowledge intact. Nightcrafter
protocol demanded that he void my memory after I washed out. But why didn’t he?
The question nagged at me for years, and for a long time I wasn’t sure exactly
why I cared. Then one day, I had an epiphany.

I
cared because I loved him. I really did. He was the closest thing to an older
brother that I’d ever had, and if he saw something special in me — something
worth breaking the rules for — that would mean the world to me. Even now, after
all this time, I secretly desire his approval, even though I know I will never
choose the path he did.

* * *

 

I
think two more days passed before anyone else came to check on me. I can’t be
totally sure because there was no daylight to mark the passage of time. But the
scraggly, uneven stubble on my face provided enough info for a guess. I was
starting to wonder how long it would take for me starve to death when Kellar’s
presence appeared in the cell again.

“We’re
sending you home,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yes,”
he said. “Mater wanted to keep you here, of course. She believes you kidnapped
Madison for some reason. But I don’t believe that.”

“What
do you believe?”

“I
believe you bested Madison and she’s embarrassed enough to go into hiding for a
while,” Kellar said. “She is a very proud girl, after all. She’ll show up again
after she’s done licking her wounds.”

“So
you’re just going to send me back home?”

“Yes,”
Kellar said. “But stay out of nightcrafter business. Even my influence has its
limits, and I won’t be able to get you out of trouble again.”

“But—”

I
never got to finish the sentence. I felt the sensation of being bent backwards
again, and the world swirled away. I heard Kellar laugh one more time before my
body was shoved through the Rift.

* * *

 

I
don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see the New York skyline.

Kellar’s
spell had dumped me into a dark, vacant alley right in the middle of Times
Square — the last place I would have expected. This was one of the few areas in
the city that was so bright that even nighttime nightcrafting was nearly
impossible. I’d never been able to do any magic here. But once I got over my
initial shock, relief and excitement hit me. I was free.

I
reflexively reached for my cell phone and remembered that it was gone. I hated
that. Like most people, I’d stopped committing most phone numbers to memory
long ago and relied on my phone’s contact database. But NATO training had
drilled exactly two phone numbers into my head. One of them happened to be a
special toll-free number that redirected straight to Dominique’s phone. I had
to call her first. There was no doubt she was freaking out about my sudden
disappearance, and I expected the Boys in Black to come pick me up soon.

I
looked for one of those rare things that hardly anyone thinks about these days
— a pay phone. I had to scan the bright Times Square streets for a good fifteen
minutes before I found one. It looked like it had a decade worth of grime,
sweat, and spittle on it. But it was my only choice at the moment.

I
picked up the sticky pay phone receiver and punched in some numbers on the
stubborn keypad. My finger was about two millimeters from the last number when
I realized how ridiculously stupid I was.

This
was
exactly
what Kellar
wanted.

The
nightcrafters were pulling a very old trick, one I’d learned about in one of my
haphazard NATO training courses. Let your captive go free and see who they run
to. They had dropped me off at Times Square because it wreaked havoc with
my
nightcrafting abilities. I could have
been surrounded by nightcrafters and not even know it because the lights
totally threw me off. Kellar and his friends were probably just waiting for me
to run back to my team so they could figure out who I was working for. All that
time they kept me in the dark was just meant to mess with my head and make me
more eager to get back to base. They were hoping I wouldn’t be thinking
straight.

Fortunately
I wasn’t quite dumb enough to prove them right.

So,
instead of dialing Dominique, I dialed the second number that NATO training had
burned into my memory. NATO had a phone system set up for field operatives. All
I had to do was dial a number that was ostensibly for an information service.
It had an automated voice response system with recordings from a cheery gal,
and to the outside world it was listed as a simple information service that
would actually help you out if you asked normal questions. But one of its
secret features was a system used to send emergency codes to a NATO routing
system. I was sure the nightcrafters wouldn’t know about it. Only a handful of
people in the whole world did, and all of them worked for Dominique.

The
line rang twice. Once I heard the bubbly, recorded voice of the receptionist
asking what I needed help with, I dialed in a four digit code that indicated I
was being tailed and I needed covert extraction. The message would be routed
through the NATO alert system straight to Dominique, and then Newton. I hoped
that they’d come up with some clever idea to get me out of this without
revealing NATO’s involvement to the nightcrafters. If Kellar and his buddies
found out who I was working for, the operation would be shut down in a matter
of hours, and we’d probably all end up with voided memories.

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