Amidst the Chaos

By Alice J. Black

Defying the laws of nature, Ruby Dawson is a DemonHunter. Ruby is coming to terms with everything that at one time, seemed impossible. Surely life can't get any harder. Only it seems things are going from bad to worse as she begins to notice not only shadow demons, but other creatures that once were hidden. As she begins to embrace the gift of her genetics, it seems that the people in her life are not impervious to the effects of the darkness settling over Black Haven and she must figure it out before her friends are pulled into the shadows. Can Ruby stop the darkness and save those she loves before it's too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melange Books, LLC
• Release date: Aug 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781680466621

Alice J. Black

Alice lives and works in the North East of England where she lives with her partner and slightly ferocious cat. She writes all manner of fiction with a tendency to lean towards the dark side, but also likes to challenge herself and write out of her genre too. Dreams and sleep-talking are currently a big source of inspiration and her debut novel, The Doors, is a young adult novel which originally sprouted from a dream several years ago and grew from there.

Book preview

Chapter One

The morning was crisp as I made my way through the empty streets. I sucked in a deep breath of air and let it out slowly as my chest heaved. The music thudding through the headphones was enough to keep my energy going as I marched towards my destination.

So much had happened in the last few weeks—layers on top of layers—that I was still processing. It was a slow process, as one thought invaded the next and my mind couldn’t really settle on which issue to deal with next.

Not only had I found out that my dad wasn’t who I thought he was, but I learned that the place I worked for was actually a demon hunting agency. I’d been stalked by shadows, chased by one of the seven sins—Sloth—and I had to stop the whole town coming to a standstill.

When I thought about it, even now in the aftermath, I still couldn’t wrap my head around things. Sometimes I wondered if it was all a dream, that I’d wake up and find that I’d been in some induced coma or just having a really long dream. But I knew that wasn’t the case. I was a Demon Hunter—the first female Demon Hunter, and the first one to come of age before eighteen. I sure liked to mess up their figures.

Something still lingered in the periphery of my mind. I still had questions that needed answers, and I often questioned my sanity. Something told me—call it gut instinct—that it wasn’t over. I knew it wasn’t time to slack yet.

Sloth might’ve relinquished his hold on the town after I cornered it in the bathroom at school, leaving everyone to continue their lives as normal, but it hung over me like a dark cloud I couldn’t seem to shift. Where had Sloth been taken? And why couldn’t I shake the feeling that it was far from over?

I made my way past Manor Grange School, where I was in my first year of sixth form and kept walking. It was early, even for me, but sleep had been harder the past few nights, so rather than risk waking up my roommate Becca, I decided to head out. I had someone to visit, anyway.

My trainers hit the ground softly with each step I took, and my breath fogged in a white haze that joined with the air and disappeared. It was still early in the year, and winter was still in full swing. Everything was covered in a fine layer of frost. It crunched under my feet and held in the chill wind as it buffeted my face. I didn’t care. It felt good to stretch and release some energy.

It had been a while since I was in the training room at The Agency. That was Sheila’s idea. Sheila Quigley, the manager of The Agency. She dealt with all things managerial in the aspect of Demon Hunting, and after catching Sloth and trying to come to terms with becoming a Hunter, she insisted on me taking some time away. She said she’d let me know when I could come back. So far, I had silence.

I shook my head as I thought of the woman who’d lied to me since I was twelve. After my dad died, she posed as a bank manager and told me he passed from a heart attack. A heart attack—not because he’d sacrificed himself to save someone else. That part was left out until I met Delta, his hunting partner, four years later. That was the other thing I’d struggled with—working alongside a woman who I found it hard to trust.

And it all came back down to The Agency. Technically, I wasn’t even employed. I’d come of age, something nobody was expecting, and they made sure to keep telling me. I was spending plenty of time there training, being kitted-out and generally learning how to defend myself, but she still wouldn’t put me on the books officially. Well, I was going to change that. I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing without the proper equipment and support, and that included the real training program. I would argue with Sheila and I would be made an official Hunter of The Agency.

Finally, the gates came into view. The cemetery. My breath caught in my chest. I’d have liked to think it was the cold, but I knew it was a mix of guilt and apprehension. I hadn’t been here since my dad was laid to rest, and that was four years ago.

I reached the gates and paused as I stared at the word emblazoned on top of the gates in black wrought iron. I could tell myself all I wanted that I was grieving in my own way, but the truth was, I avoided the place. I knew it would hurt to be there, to see the marker where my dad lay buried beneath the ground in a box. And now it hurt even more to know that he was a stranger to me, in more ways than one.

I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly through my lips. I could do this. Crossing the threshold, I made my way along the path. Despite the fact that I hadn’t visited, I knew exactly where his plot was, and my feet carried me there without thought.

My eyes swept over the plains around me, vaulting the hill as it rose into the morning air, and landing momentarily on the huge crypt of a loved one, where it stood on the verge. Headstones rose as if they’d grown in lieu of someone passing beneath, and I saw square markers, epitaphs, and crosses.

It had always struck me how unfair human life was. Fragile. We were made of flesh and bone, and it only took moments for it to be ripped away. Mortality was a strange thing, and there I was, doing something that stared death in the face.

I didn’t deny I was scared. I’d be stupid if I wasn’t, but it held some strange fascination for me. I was able to see demons, almost crossing the line between life and death as I fought with them, and it was all just part of a job. Nothing was even normal in my life.

When my dad died, he left me alone in the world at twelve years old, and it hurt. I was taken into St. Helen’s, the place I still live now, to be a ward of the state and told I was going to be there until I turned eighteen, when I was an adult.

For a long time, I was angry, lashing out at anybody. I was put through counselling, and at the time, it didn’t help at all, but maybe now I could attribute my calm demeanour to the fact that I was supported through my grief. I thought about him every day, now more so than ever. I used to picture him collapsing in a bank, surrounded by people who cared, and now I knew different. Now I knew he was hurt in the midst of a case, saving someone else, and that he died alone.

Climbing the hill, I took a sharp right and clambered through the grass. It was slick with dew and beads of water soaked into the bottom of my jeans. I went on and on, weaving around headstones, some with fresh flowers and some that hadn’t seen the loving hand of a relative in a long time, until I finally reached it. Dad’s marker.

I stopped and stared down at the black stone rising from the earth.

Hudson Rhys Dawson

1969-2013

Always loved

That was it. No touching eulogy. No words from his family.

I bit back the cloying thickness in my throat and sucked in a deep breath. The cold hit my lungs, and I was refreshed. I was his only family. I’d never known my mum. Dad told me she died when I was a baby, and sometimes I was glad I didn’t remember her. Having the grief of two parents would’ve been too much to bear.

The bank paid for his funeral. Everything was organised, down to the flowers I had for him. I had no choice, no voice, and I was cast aside. A child lost in the world of grief with nobody to lean on. My mouth turned down into a sour smile as I stared down at his headstone. The bank. That’s what I’d thought for years. A naïve child believing what I was told. It turns out, it was all a lie.

Confusion and anger ripped through me. I’d been lied to my whole life. The Agency, Sheila, Delta. My dad, that one hurt the most, but I understood it. He hid aspects of his life from me to protect me. What would a child do with the information that her dad was a Demon Hunter?

Nobody else had a reason to lie, and it hurt to know that the main aspects of my life had been diluted to such an extent that I grew up thinking my dad was a bank employee.

I couldn’t go back and change the past, but I knew I could learn from it. Trust wasn’t an issue for me, and I knew I’d keep relying on those around me, but now I would do it with caution. I’d speak my mind and do what I needed to do to know the truth and be true to myself.

I wiped my eyes as the tears of frustration began to build and glanced back down at his stone. His headstone stood alone. They hadn’t even had the decency to bury him with my mum. I had no idea where her gravestone was. My dad never brought me here. I always figured it was too painful for him. Now it left me with another gaping hole in my chest. I was an orphan in the world, a ward of the state, and I was trying to find my way, but sometimes, without the parental guidance of my dad, I was lost.

I sank to my knees and felt the damp earth shift beneath my weight. My hand automatically went to the stone, and I brushed off a few stray leaves that had landed on the top of the headstone. Then my hand trailed down the cold granite until it came to rest on his name. My finger traced it, and my eyes stung. I miss you, Dad. My voice was quiet in the early morning hush.

It had been a long time since I’d said those words. A long time since I’d allowed myself to mourn. Sometimes it felt like living my life was wrong when he was taken away from me. And I needed him now more than ever. He was always a calming mind and a guiding influence in my life.

He would’ve walked me through everything I was going through. He would’ve trained me. He would’ve given me the knowledge and tools I needed to fight whatever was coming, and I would never have had to ask or beg for it.

A tear slipped down my cheek, and it was caught by the cool breeze skimming across my face. I sniffed and wiped away the tear. I wish I had brought some flowers or a memento, but I had nothing. Only the salt and torch I carried in my bag, and I knew I needed them in this new life I was living.

My eyes took in his name again on the gravestone, and I wondered what, if I’d been given the chance, would my words have read. Then, maybe something simple about missing my father. Now, something about a brave man giving his life for another.

Pushing myself up from the ground, my knees groaned, and my bag swung forward, almost pitching me forward. I caught myself just in time, hand resting on the top of my dad’s stone. I couldn’t help but smile. He’d always been there for me.

See you soon, Dad, I called over my shoulder as I turned and headed back towards the path. My jeans stuck to my legs where they were soaked through with damp, and my trainers squeaked in the wet grass as I left my dad behind.

I took a slow walk back through the cemetery and along the streets, back home. The morning remained quiet as I strolled along the pavement. When Sloth had the town in its grip and everybody seemed to lose the will to live, I was wishing for chaos. Now that everything had been righted and the world was back to normal, I could enjoy my moment of solitude, guilt free.

Chapter Two

I made it back to St. Helen’s just in time for breakfast. As I let myself in through the front door, I saw girls trotting down the stairs, some rubbing their eyes, most of them still in their nightwear. I smiled. This place had been a ghost town when Sloth was around and having them back—however much a pain in the arse it could be at times—was great.

I caught sight of Mary in the corner of the foyer, where she was teasing Christmas ornaments from the tree. Her short blonde hair fell over her face as she worked. It was the last of the decorations, and as usual, she always left it till last.

Ruby. She straightened as she saw me and smiled, dusting her hands on her jeans. Weekends were more relaxed, and today she wore blue jeans and a flannel shirt. You’re up early.

I had a few things to do.

Everything okay?

Yeah. Just busy. How’s the tree going? I pointed.

Mary shook her head. It’s the most annoying damn tree Barbara could’ve picked. Comes apart in a million pieces.

I grinned. I’d offer to help, but I smell breakfast.

Yeah, yeah. She waved her hand. But listen, we should catch up next week.

Sure. No problem.

Hey, where’ve you been? I heard Becca’s voice. Glancing up, I saw her making her way down the second flight of steps to the ground floor. She wore a pair of plain grey pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt to match. Becca loved to match. You do know it’s Saturday, right?

I know. I woke early and couldn’t sleep. I shrugged.

She rolled her eyes as she made it to the bottom of the steps. You’re the weirdest person I know.

I laughed. Thanks, Becca. Matching her stride, I made my way into the dining hall at her side and joined the small queue.

The glory about breakfast on the weekend was having it cooked for us. The smell of bacon carried in the air, and I inhaled deeply as my stomach growled.

Hungry? Becca eyed me.

Yeah. I nodded. I’ve been for a walk, so I guess it’s worked up my appetite.

The blonde just shook her head and stepped in front of me to grab a plate. Honestly, Ruby, when will you start being normal?

I picked up my own plate and bit my lip. I honestly didn’t think there was going to be any kind of normal in my life ever again. Normal didn’t equate with being a Demon Hunter. When she turned to look at me, I just shrugged.

The queue moved quickly, and Jen piled the cooked goodies on my plate as she smiled at us. Morning, ladies.

Morning, Jen, Becca greeted her.

Hey, Jen. I nodded. How are you?

Good. She grinned. Taking the kids out later.

Make sure they wrap up warm. It’s cold out.

Will do.

I grabbed my coffee at the end of the service, passing Melody on my way. She smiled at me and said, Morning.

Hey, Melody. I smiled. Everyone was in a good mood today. I couldn’t help the elation that seemed to flood me in that moment. Only a few weeks ago, I was battling to make anybody care about anything. You okay?

Yeah, just coming to grab breakfast.

You’re normally the first in the queue.

She shrugged. I couldn’t wake myself up this morning. Her red hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her eyes were still red with the thaw of sleep.

Hurry before the rest of the bacon disappears.

She grinned, nodded, and hurried off.

Soon, we were sitting at our usual spot at the table, tucking into our breakfasts. As I pushed a forkful of egg into my mouth, I glanced around at the hubbub of the dining room.

The girls at St. Helen’s were the ones who helped me bring the energy back to the city. When I thought all was lost and Sloth had taken over everything, they were the ones who roused themselves from a stupor and helped me raise hell at school. Without them, everyone would still be in a funk.

I don’t think they really understood just how much they did either. Every one of them took part, and I had them doing it under a false pretence, sort of. I couldn’t really explain the full story, not without sounding weird and not without divulging information about The Agency. I’d already told Becca, and I think even that was way too much. I knew I could trust Becca. She’d keep her mouth shut.

So what you doing today? Becca asked between mouthfuls of toast.

I shrugged. I don’t have any plans. Might catch up on some homework.

She rolled her eyes. Seriously, Ruby.

It’s got to be done! I’ve left it until the last minute, and school starts on Monday. I defended myself.

There’s always tomorrow. She wiggled her brows. We could go shopping!

No.

You’re no fun. What about training? It’s been a while since you went there.

I shook my head. Sheila put a temporary ban on me going.

What? Why?

After everything that happened, she said I need a rest.

Do you think you need a rest?

I shook my head. I think I need to keep working at it. I don’t want to lose what I’ve already done.

You won’t just forget it.

No, but physically, it’s easier to stay fit than work back up to being fit. I took a mouthful of bacon and chewed.

Yeah, I guess so. Well, listen, she started, changing the subject, since you don’t have plans—

But I just—

You’re coming shopping.

You know I hate shopping.

Becca shrugged. Listen. I want to go to the mall to get ready for the new term starting, and there’s no way I’m taking Jake.

Why? He’s your boyfriend. It’s his job to carry your bags and stuff.

She grinned. Yeah, but he’s not good at telling me if something suits me or if I look like a dog.

Becca, you could never look like a dog. I shook my head.

My best friend was one of the most glamourous people I knew, with or without makeup. It had a lot to do with her long, blonde locks and her flawless skin. She had these bright blue eyes that made me think of a nymph, and her smile was almost always in place.

Even so, you can’t make me go alone. And besides, you’re my best friend. It’s your duty to come shopping with me.

I sighed. Fine.

So we’ll finish breakfast, get ready, and walk over there.

I knew that any amount of arguing would just be met with a rehearsed counter. Okay. It looked like my Saturday was going to be spent in the mall instead of doing my homework like I should.

She grinned, and we finished our breakfast as I wondered what I’d let myself in for.

Upstairs in the bedroom, I dumped my bag on my bed and sat down as I prepared myself for a long wait. Becca took a quick shower, then sat in front of the mirror for what seemed like an age, preening and pouting as she deftly put her makeup on. When she was done, she stood up, turned around, and wiped her hands together.

I smiled. You know you’re good at that, right?

What?

Makeup. I can’t do anything like that. My skin always looks awful. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room and let my hand dance across my cheek. My skin was pale and more on the dry side. My eyes were chocolate brown, and my auburn hair matched, hanging a few inches below my shoulder. Compared to Becca, I was plain. Not unpretty, just not stunning.

No, it doesn’t. You don’t need any. She searched for her handbag.

Have you ever thought about doing it professionally? I asked, turning from the mirror, refusing to meet my own gaze any longer.

I don’t think I could do that all day. It’s easy when I’m doing my own makeup because I know what I like, but it’d drive me nuts trying to fit around others. I think beauty is a little bit cosmetic for me. I like it and all, but it’s not for me. There are bigger things in life.

Like, Jenny? I grinned.

Yes. Like, Jenny. Becca nodded.

My jibe wasn’t lost on her. Jenny was Becca’s friend at school, and one that, no matter how often I’d tried or how much effort I’d put in, I just couldn’t get along with. The girl was so envious of everything, she was practically green, and she didn’t just have a mean streak, she was mean all the way through.

No, I still want to go into law.

You’re smart enough for it.

Becca was built for something like the catwalk, but she had a lot of modesty, and although she liked to preen herself, she wasn’t overindulgent about it. Becca had her head screwed on and knew just where she wanted to go in life. That was something I admired.

Thanks. She blushed, the red tinting her cheeks a rosy colour. It suited her. Come on. Let’s head off. We have a long day ahead of us.

I refrained from rolling my eyes. She picked up her bag and hung it over the crook of her elbow as I grabbed my over-the-shoulder bag and slung it across my back. Becca and I were like chalk and cheese, but it worked. We left the room, locking it behind us, and made our way downstairs.

And where are you two going? Barbara’s voice cut across the foyer.

I froze and spun, and I instantly felt like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

Barbara was back to normal. After Sloth came to Black Haven, she’d fallen prey to its devices, and weeks went by without me seeing her. Now she was back with a vengeance.

Today she wore a black shirt that was a little ill-fitting, hanging loose on her bony frame, and black trousers to match, along with a pair of heels. Her dark grey hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her piercing green eyes watched me closely. Her skin was pale, her cheeks flushed with red, and her lips pulled together tightly.

We’re going to the mall, Becca answered, standing beside me, tall and defiant.

Barbara’s eyes swept over us, and I got the uncanny feeling she was assessing us.

I bit my lip. I wouldn’t be surprised if she turned around and called a stop to it. After all, I’d broken down the bathroom door only a few weeks ago. I didn’t think I was quite forgiven for that.

Finally, she nodded once. Very well. But don’t forget your chores.

We’ll do them as soon as we get in. Becca pushed on her sweetest smile.

She gave us another nod, which I knew meant that we’d better keep to our word, and then she bustled past, making her way into the kitchen, her heels clicking on the floor with each step. I loved it when she wore heels, so at least I could hear her coming.

That was a close one, I whispered as soon as we were out of earshot and heading through the door.

Becca shook her head. She’s like a pussy cat when you know how to handle her.

I wasn’t sure I agreed. Barbara was a good woman. She wouldn’t do what she did, otherwise. But she scared me, and I wasn’t afraid to admit it.

We strolled the distance to the mall, taking in the morning sun that seemed to cut through the cold of the morning. I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep them warm and felt my bag bounce against my thigh. I really did need to invest in something smaller or more practical. Humping that thing around was like having an extra limb.

The mall was just like I expected—busy and cliché. Every time I went, which wasn’t very often—and would be even less if Becca would allow me to say no—I found that everything was the same. The shops, the food, the people. But I guess it wouldn’t kill me to have one afternoon in there, and besides, I knew Becca was right. Sometimes I needed to learn to switch off. I suspected it might get harder and harder as things progressed with The Agency, so I’d take time for myself where I could.

Let’s start here. Becca pointed to a store, and as I reluctantly followed, avoiding a throng of people that stood in the centre of the walkway, I found my irritation levels rising already. I took a deep breath and repeated a mantra in my mind—I can do this.

We moved from shop to shop, staring at clothing rails and sale rails. We looked at tops, trousers, skirts, and shorts. Underwear wasn’t missed, and of course, she spent ages looking at shoes.

When we passed the huge monument in the middle of the mall that doubled as a clock and fountain, I almost breathed a sigh of relief. We were halfway through. By the time we were done, we’d visited almost every store in the place and Becca had tried on nearly every piece of clothing in the whole mall.

We must be done now, I moaned as we exited yet another store. My shoulders were aching, and I’d pulled my hair up into a ponytail to try and cool off. The place was like a sauna, and it didn’t help my anger as someone bumped into me.

Becca grinned. Almost.

Almost! There’s nowhere left.

Come on, just one more place.

I ignored the ache in my feet as I traipsed after her further into the maze of shops. I followed her around dutifully as she rifled through stacks of clothing. I wondered whether things might’ve been different—if I would’ve been different—if my mum was around. If I’d had a mother in my life, perhaps all this stuff would’ve seemed normal to me. We would’ve done it before school every year and picked out the cutest stationery.

Instead, my dad had always bought everything in bulk online. It was easier for him, and it suited me. We fell into this habit, and I made my groove in life, one in which I was comfortable. Stepping into a mall wasn’t included in that.

When we finally stopped, it was in front of a coffee shop, the aroma hitting me and offering an instant refresh.

Time for a well-deserved coffee. Becca skipped into the shop.

I don’t know where she got the energy. I was gone.

I thought you’d never ask.

Becca ordered as I grabbed a seat, glad to take the weight off my feet. I dropped my bag at my feet and slumped back in the wooden chair, sighing in relief. Within minutes, she was gliding across to the table, tray in hand and bags in the other. She was a pro. She slid it onto the table, then perched on her seat.

You know, with those skills, you could be an air hostess, I told her, taking my cup from the tray and pressing it to my lips. I hid the smirk that was trying to break free. I knew exactly what her response would be.

She scrunched her face and shook her head as if imagining herself in a uniform. Not for me, thanks. She lifted the two small plates off the tray and passed one my way. I got you a rocky road.

My favourite, thanks. This makes it all worth it. I snapped a piece off and popped it into my mouth, delighting in the soft chew of the chocolate bar.

So have you seen Vaughn recently? she asked, raising her brow, a small smile curling the side of her mouth.

I shook my head and swallowed a sip of coffee. No. Not since before getting rid of that thing.

He hasn’t messaged you or anything? Her eyes widened.

Nope. I shrugged. I hoped it was coming across that I didn’t care.

Deep down, I did. It hurt that I hadn’t heard from him when he promised he’d be there for me. Not so much as a message. I’d begun to let myself think that maybe, just maybe there was a chance he liked me a little more than just a friend, but it’d been a fool’s dream. If that was the case, he would’ve been in touch. Instead, I’d had complete radio silence.

Well then, you text him.

He’s probably busy or something. And besides, we’re just friends.

She scowled. Come on. That guy is hot.

I couldn’t deny that. An image of him popped into my mind, and I envisaged every muscle, every square of his chiselled jaw. My stomach clenched. Even when he wasn’t here, he managed to get me all flustered.

And if you don’t snap him up, then someone will, she added, sitting back with her cup cradled in her hands.

He’s not some prize.

Oh, hell, Ruby, if I wasn’t dating Jake, I’d get on that. She grinned.

I couldn’t help but giggle as she wiggled her eyebrows. My best friend was delightfully wicked.

"Speaking of Jake,