Page 57 of Demon Hunter

“Yes.” Raum’s answer is firm. “I have seen the memories myself.”

That’s a road I don’t want to go down, so I pretend I didn’t hear it.

“Other people wear leather cuffs, though,” Ian points out. “I’m not saying it’s not a person or people within the Collective, but we can’t disregard that it might not be.” He looks at Raum. “Unless you have something that could prove it?”

Raum shakes his head. “No. Like you, I cannot assume it isn’t, but I personally believe that if this was hunters, they would be killing the demons, not enslaving them.”

I nod before I realize that doesn’t make sense. “Wait… how do you know they aren’t?”

Raum casts a surprised look at Marc. “They don’t know?”

Ian’s boyfriend shrugs. “It never came up.” He turns his attention to me. “When a demon outside of Crmærdinesgh dies, their loved ones are made aware. It’s the last action of the demon’s essence before it dissolves.”

There’s a little silence as we all stare at him. Finally Ian says what we’re all thinking. “What the actual fuck?”

Raum looks confused. “Actual fuck? What is a non-actual fuck?”

Before we can get too far off track, I say, “So we know these demons are alive. And obviously, if there were over four thousand demons just roaming around the planet willy-nilly, we’d have noticed.” I hope. “Which means it’s safe to assume that whoever summoned them knew what they were doing and designed the circle appropriately.”

Matt rubs his brow. “None of those species of demon are lacking intelligence, even though you call them lesser.” He shoots a snarky glance at the two higher demons, and I bite my tongue to keep from saying that we also call them lesser demons. He’s feeling bitchy, and I kind of like bitchy Matt. It’s a kink.“Since they’re not stupid and are unlikely to have freely given the information needed to control them, do we also need to assume that whoever summoned them has hunter abilities? Whether they’re part of the Collective or not.”

I want the answer to be no—I really want it—but logic dictates otherwise. Which means it’s not likely to be a random satanic cult. Not unless they have someone with abilities among them who’s managed to learn a hell of a lot about summoning and controlling demons. It’s possible, but unlikely—that type of knowledge is usually hard-won with a lot of deaths, like it was in the Collective.

“I would say so,” Marc agrees. “Raum? Do you concur?”

“Yes.” Raum nods. “You know more about humans and humanity than I, but I’ve built detailed profiles of all the missing demons, and with a few exceptions, none of them would be foolish enough to surrender their true name or autonomy to a human who’d summoned them.”

“That still doesn’t tell us if this is a problem within the Collective or not.” Ian stands and begins to pace, frustrated. “Until we know that for sure, we don’t know if it’s safe to use Collective resources. Fuck, I can’t believe we’re back in this situation again, not knowing who to trust.”

Marc sighs. “As much as it pains me to admit it, we could probably trust your brothers. Connor might be annoying, and he might hate demons, but I don’t believe he’d be involved in enslaving them. He is… honorable.” The word seems to stick in his throat, and at any other time, I’d be amused.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” I say. “You said you were able to pinpoint the location the demons were summoned to. That’s helpful information. If it’s in the middle of a compound, we know this is a problem within the Collective. If it’s somewhere else, though, somewhere random, and you can tell me approximatelywheneach month the summonings takeplace, I can run some searches through our GPS and work out if any hunters were near there. That won’t alert anyone—not the way I’d do it—and it might give us a clearer idea of what we’re dealing with.”

“GPS?” Raum asks.

“A tracking tool,” Marc replies.

“That’s not what it’s for,” Matt snaps, then hesitates. “Exactly.”

“But that’s what we’ll use it for in this case,” I add, then look expectantly at Raum. “So… where?” Hopefully it’s not Antarctica or somewhere, because I wouldn’t even know how to get there to kick these people’s asses.

Raum hesitates. “I don’t know the name of the place. I can point it out on a map.”

It’s a race to see who grabs their phone first, me, Ian, or Matt. Marc, of course, doesn’t lift a finger, just looks bored.

“Okay, I got this,” Ian declares. “iMaps, don’t fail me now.” He slides his fingers over the screen, then goes to sit beside Raum. “This is Earth. Here’s how it works”—he demonstrates how to adjust the map size and location—“so turn the globe until you think you’re close, then start zooming in.”

The expression on Raum’s face is pure fascination as he takes the phone from Ian and begins to search for the right place. “Here,” he murmurs, then clumsily zooms. “No, that’s not right.”

“Zoom back out a bit, and go slower,” Ian suggests, showing a surprising amount of patience. He watches for a second more, says, “That’s it,” then glances toward us. “They’re in the US.”

Matt sighs. “Of fucking course.”

I know what he means. Sure, it makes things easier for us, but it sucks to think that our own countrymen are doing something this vile.

“Narrowing it down to the East Coast,” Ian reports. “Wait, not the coast… the Midwest. Ohio.” He shakes his head. “Seriously? Why the fuck would you enslave demons in Ohio?”

“Your priorities are skewed,” Marc says mildly, but Ian’s not listening.

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