4. My Stalker In Black Cloak

VAELORA POV

I pushed the door to the storage room open, and stepped inside. For a moment, I thought there was no one in here. Looking around, I saw that there were only three or four window so high up and barred; faint street noise came through them, the sound of squeaking brakes and honking car horns were loud. The room smelled like dust and a heavy layer of paint meant for walls covered the floor as though it was splashed carelessly and marked by smeared shoe prints walking over them.

There’s no one in here. I said inwardly. Then where could they have gone? Is there a secret passage somewhere?

I looked around in bewilderment. I hugged my arms to prevent the cold in the room from sipping into my bones. I hate the cold. Despite the July heat out there, why was it so cold in here?

My back was icy with sweat. I took a step forward, tangling my feet in the electrical wires. As careful as I thought I was, my snicker still got stuck and I had to bend down to free it from the cables. That’s when I heard voices. A girl’s laugh, a boy answering with confusion laced in his voice.

When I straightened up, I saw them.

They weren’t there before. It was as if they had sprung into existence between one blink of my eyes and the next.

There was the girl in her long red dress, her black hair hanging down her back like damp seaweed. Those two guys were with her— the average one with black hair like hers, and the taller fair one, whose hair gleamed like heated iron in the dim light coming from the window above.

The fair one—my stalker —was standing with his hands in his in the pocket of his cloak, facing the blue-haired guy that had his hands straddled behind him. I looked closely at him now. He was tied to a pillar with what looked like one of these wires lying on the floor. His hands and legs were bound. His face was pulled up tight and I could see pain and fear written across it.

My heart started to hammer in my chest, I ducked behind the nearest concrete pillar and peered from beside it. I watched as my stalker paced back and forth with a calm expression that looked scary. His arms crossed over his chest.

“So,” he said and his voice sounded nothing like I thought it would. Not that I’ve been thinking of what his voice would sound like.

“You still haven’t told me if there were any of your kind with you—hiding and blending amongst the humans.”

Your kind?

I wondered what he was talking about. Maybe I’d stumbled into some kind of cultist war.

“I.. i don’t know what you’re saying.” The blue-haired boy’s tone was pained but surly.

“Dont act stupid.” said the dark haired one, speaking for the first time. “He means demons. You do know what you are, right? You do know what a demon is.”

The boy tied to the pillar turned his face away, his mouth shut.

“Demons,” drawled the ginger-haired one, dragging the words so much as if doing that will jog some memories. “Please, let me enlighten you since clearly you were waiting for someone with superior intellect to explain it.

Demons are basically the universe’s worst coworkers—loud, dramatic, and completely obsessed with chaos like it’s a personality trait. They thrive on fear, misery, and yeah, reckless decisions… which, honestly, explains why they’d love hanging around humans so much.

Think of them as: that one person who always brings bad vibes into the room

But like… ancient, immortal, and with a trait of stupidity in their nature….”

“That’s enough, Zane.” said the girl.

“Xyrelle’s right,” agreed the dark haired one. “Nobody here needs a lesson on demon facts and studies.”

They’re crazy. I thought. Really.. really psychos.

“Our friend here looks like he needed it.” My obsessive stalker apparently named Zane raised his head, before lifting a corner of his lips, and I had a feeling that he was more dangerous than his other two friends.

There was something fierce about the aura that ooze out of him. It reminded me of the lions i watch in NATGEO WILDS— a documentary about animals. The way the big cats would raise their heads and how their eyes pierce through the forests. Their nostrils sniffing the air for an unfortunate prey.

“Xyrelle and Nyxen think I talk too much,” he said confidingly. “You don’t think I talk too much, do you?”

The bluehaired boy didn’t reply. And for a second, I thought his mouth has been paralyzed by fear just as my legs were. But his lips actually moved.

“I could give you information,” he said. “I.. I know where Sylvaris is.”

Zane, Nyxen and Xyrelle froze.

Zane glanced back at the girl and boy, before he shrugged. “Sylvaris has been long buried like a dog that he is. This thing's just messing with us.”

Xyrelle tossed her hair. “Please kill it, Zane. It’s not going to tell us anything substantial and I’m so bloody tired.”

Zane raised his hand, and my eyes widened when I saw dim light spark off the knife I had seen him hold earlier. It was oddly glowing an amber light just like Jace’s hair. The blade could reflect one’s reflection. It looked sharp as a shard of glass, the hilt set with sapphire stones.

The bound boy gasped. Fear shown in his eyes and I could see it through the blade’s reflection of him.

“Sylvaris is back!” he protested, struggling with the wires that bound him behind his back. “All the supernatural world knows it— I know it— how come you don't know? I swear, I can tell you where he is—"

Rage flared suddenly in Zane’s icy eyes. "By the Angel, everyone we capture—the lots of you assholes, always claim you know where the so-called bastard is. Everyone knows where he is. The fool is in hell. And you—" Zane turned the knife in his grasp, pointing the blade towards the boy's heart, the edge sparkled like a line of fire. "You will join him there."