Chapter Text
She dreamt she was flying. Soaring, on wings made of metal and glass. Her whole body seemed to hum with energy, and there was a huge gun in her hands. More of a rocket launcher, really. The air rushed past her, through her, filling her with unknowable light and joy. This was what she was born to do. This was her true calling – to be a raptor of justice above war-torn battlefields, a protector of the innocent. Whatever lives she lived, whatever people she met, loved, killed – she knew she had this.
The tattoo under her right eye prickled with sudden, alarming intensity, and she felt her wings stutter. The Eye of Horus never lied; there was danger nearby. Someone was in trouble. She had to –
“Fareeha. Fareeha. God, you never sleep this heavily when I make food in the middle of the night...” The dream was over. Fareeha Amari opened her eyes, still feeling the phantom discomfort that was her tattoo’s warning for danger. She kept still, face pressed to the cool, smooth surface of her anthropology textbook, trying to sense the source of the danger without alerting anyone of her knowledge.
Completely unaware of Fareeha’s tension, Lena delivered a sharp whap to the back of her head.
Her focus shattered and the pain in her tattoo disappeared instantly. She jerked her head up in surprise, skull connecting solidly with Lena’s chin from where her friend had been leaning over her in concern. A dull crack and they were both curled up and groaning.
Lena was the first to recover. “Now what’d you do that for?” she exclaimed indignantly, her accent thickening with her upset. Fareeha’s eyes finally stopped smarting and focused on her friend and roommate, clutching her messenger bag in one hand and her chin in the other.
“I’m sorry, that was an accident,” she finally said, still reeling from the sudden pain to the crown of her head, and the abrupt end to the Eye’s warning. “You startled me awake, that’s all. Sorry.” She looked keenly around her, at the other students who had briefly looked at them but were now leaving the classroom in a messy pack. Fareeha quickly extricated herself from the cramped confines of her desk, and began to hastily gather her books and papers into her backpack.
Lena watched her with her hands on her narrow hips, frowning at Fareeha’s haste, her darting glances at their classmates. Thankfully, she was wise enough not to say anything around so many people, even if no one would hear them over the clamor of two hundred college students trying to leave a lecture hall on a Friday afternoon. Instead, she only said, “You shouldn’t fall asleep in class so close to midterms – you can sleep plenty at home!”
“I can sleep when I’m dead,” Fareeha declared, and downed the rest of the coffee in her travel thermos to punctuate the statement. “Anyway, let’s go to the library, okay?” At her coded request, Lena’s eyes sharpened, and Fareeha felt a subtle change in the air as Lena, too, began to cast her (vastly superior) senses out for danger. They walked at the back of the pack in silence, both of them sweeping their gazes slowly through the crowd, but Fareeha could sense nothing. No funny smells, no flickering at the edge of her vision, no phantom whispering as someone passed by.
They left the building and took quick strides toward the parking lots on the edge of campus. There was no library in that area, but Lena had understood Fareeha’s signal – that her Eye had warned her, and that they needed to speak in private.
Fareeha waited until the doors of Lena’s beat-up Honda Civic were shut before she began to speak. “Just as I was waking up, my Eye was triggered. It was a pretty strong reaction, too. I was laying still and trying to find the source, but you whacked me and the warning totally vanished.”
“I’m sorry about that, by the way –“ Lena automatically apologized, but Fareeha waved it off.
“Even if you had hit me with a two-by-four, the signal wouldn’t have disappeared like that,” she insisted. She bit her lip in worry as Lena began to pull out of the parking stall. “It’s never done that before.”
Lena kept her eyes trained on the rearview mirror, but her hands were tense on the steering wheel. “I checked everything within a two hundred foot radius with magic – nothing. Whatever it was, it disappeared quick. Are you sure you weren’t just dreaming?”
Fareeha hesitated. “I was having a pretty vivid dream,” she said slowly. “I mean, there’s no way your magic wouldn’t have picked it up if it was really there. I can ask Raptora about it, see if the Eye has had a history of false alarms.” Cautiously, she allowed herself to relax against the car seat.
“Just keep an eye on it... If you know what I mean,” Lena replied, and snickered when Fareeha groaned in mock agony at the pun.
Her worries temporarily assuaged, Fareeha turned the topic of conversation to other things, mostly to do with the class period she slept through. They reached the tiny house they shared before long, and Lena pulled into the driveway just long enough for Fareeha to get out. Then she was gone again, promising to be done with track practice in time for dinner. Fareeha watched the Civic disappear around the corner, still contemplating the afternoon’s events. She shook herself and resolved to put it out of her mind, then went into her house.
The house that she and Lena shared was small, with two bedrooms, a single, dingy bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. In almost all respects, a totally normal house inhabited by two college students. The only real differences were the shelves of ancient scrolls and moth-eaten books; the cabinet full of dried herbs, cat’s tongues, and old magical amulets; the dead mice in the freezer; the silver knife and matching silver revolver on the kitchen table; and the posters, drawings, and etchings of dozens of protective sigils, enchantments, and wards on the walls.
Really – other than that stuff, they were normal twentysomethings in every way.
Fareeha toed off her shoes in the entryway, and dropped her backpack in its customary spot by the dining room table before moving into her bedroom, already removing her clothes. As she threw her shirt onto the pile of dirty laundry that permanently lived in the corner of her room, Raptora untucked their proud head from behind their wing, stretching on their perch by her window. They yawned cartoonishly, then clacked their beak at Fareeha in a fond greeting. I trust you had a good day, and only slept in a couple of your classes, they said, deep voice coming not from their beak but reverberating around in Fareeha’s head like a song in a cathedral.
“My day was fine,” Fareeha replied absently, inspecting Raptora with an intensity that she hoped they wouldn’t notice.
Raptora took the form of a huge, dark falcon, with hooked black claws thicker than a human hand, and a golden beak. Their unnaturally bright blue eyes shone with intelligence. They had been part of Fareeha’s family since she was a little girl. She knew Raptora better almost than she knew herself.
The giant falcon did not seem even remotely alarmed or bothered by anything, and they were Fareeha’s best magical disturbance detector. Inwardly, she allowed herself a rush of relief. It must have been a false alarm, after all. “And for your information,” she continued, “I only slept in one class.”
Raptora clucked in disapproval, but said nothing. Fareeha’s academics were becoming a sore subject between the two of them, but she kept her grades up, and that was what mattered to her. Anyway, Raptora said delicately, nothing much happened today. No disturbances or calls to the help-line. You got your delivery from Hanzo, too.
Glad to change the subject, Fareeha hummed in acknowledgement as she shucked off her jeans and pulled on black leggings, soft socks, and her new spiked, silver-tipped knee- and shin-guards. She laced on her leather combat boots beneath, checking that her dagger was still in its hidden sheath. On top she wore a plain black T-shirt, her reinforced bronze breastplate, and her customary leather jacket. She thought she looked rather dashing in her work outfit, but Lena never hesitated to inform her that she looked more like the star of a bad 50s action movie. She checked her reflection in the mirror in her closet, nothing that the Eye of Horus looked as dark and unassuming as ever. She touched and rubbed the golden beads that framed her face and tamed her coarse, black hair. She allowed their smooth slide between her fingers to calm any lingering worries, then shut her closet door.
At her gesture, Raptora flew onto her arm, clasping the worn leather gently between their talons. Fareeha bore them into the living room. “Nothing much happened on my end either,” she said. “Just a normal day of classes. I studied in the library for the first time since we took down that boggart on the fourth floor.. You remember? Thank god they removed that old wardrobe.” Now convinced of her mistake and not even sure if she should tell Raptora at all, Fareeha pressed on. “But... something weird happened during my last class.”
With a flutter of their wings, Raptora left Fareeha’s arm and settled on their perch at the dining room table – their unofficial base of operations. Oh? What happened?
“The Eye of Horus prickled,” Fareeha told them, watching their inhuman eyes for any reaction. “A warning of danger, like usual, but stronger than normal. It woke me up, actually. But as soon as I was about to do something about it, the feeling disappeared. It never came back, and Lena did a sweep but found nothing out of the ordinary.” Fareeha tapped the tattoo under her eye thoughtfully. “I thought that it must have been a false alarm.”
Raptora tilted their head, gazing at Fareeha with blazing blue eyes. When they spoke, Fareeha knew that she was in for a lecture. She couldn’t help sighing loudly and throwing herself into a chair as they scolded her. You know that magical sigils and objects don’t behave like defective human machinery, Fareeha. The Eye of Horus doesn’t do false alarms. The enchantment is too powerful to be lied to, tricked, or otherwise tampered with. It is a protection symbol that, once activated, becomes inextricably linked to your life force and the mysterious twisting paths of Fate. It is very potent magic, and much more sensitive and foolproof than any human technology can achieve.
“I know,” Fareeha replied. She could feel the frustration building inside her, and part of her wanted to loudly question how a phantom bad feeling during a dream held so much significance. Instead, she fought to keep her tone civil and asked, “Do you know what could have caused this?”
Raptora sighed and ruffled their feathers, looking away. Unfortunately, the origins and true mechanisms of the Eye of Horus are a mystery to the spirits. It was kept a secret from every being save the Amari family. Your mother would have known.
Somehow knowing that they would say that, Fareeha stood up in a huff. "Just another mystery my mother left behind. Of course!” she growled. “Is there anything that I can do about it?”
Not really, Raptora replied in a pained voice. Fareeha’s mother was a bad topic for the both of them. My instinct would be to be alert in case the same thing happens again. Pay attention to your dreams. If we went hunting tonight, maybe I could try to detect if anything has changed in Hudson City.
Happy to have a concrete goal, Fareeha immediately went to the small coat closet by the front door. “I was just planning on visiting the Undercity tonight, but we also haven’t patrolled in awhile. Let’s just go.” Yanking open the hidden door in the closet with more force than strictly necessary, she began to select weapons from the armory recessed inside. She fastened her favorite handgun to a thigh holster, shoved a matchbox full of silver and copper bullets into her jacket pocket, and lifted her hair to strap her short sword across her back. Vials of holy water, darts infused with heather oil, and a flashlight went into her over-the-shoulder bag. She closed the hidden door with a snap and watched as the concealment rune did its work to hide the seam in the wall. Then, she grabbed her padded black coat from its coat hanger and shrugged it on, tucking the matching black helmet under her arm.
Raptora landed on her shoulder with a whisper of feathers, and they left out the back door. Fareeha pulled out her phone and shot Lena a text, letting her know that she would be home late, then strode out into the un-watered back yard. The dead grass crunched under her boots.
Fareeha opened the worn wooden door of the shed behind their house, and kicked the tarp away, revealing her mother’s black motorcycle. The thing was ancient, with the loudest engine Fareeha had ever heard, and seats worn totally smooth with age. Fareeha spent more time fixing the damn thing up than actually riding it, but she loved it all the same.
Donning the helmet, she swung a leg over the bike and inserted the small key into the ignition. Raptora took off from her shoulder as the bike began to move, their voice clear in her mind: Meet me downtown, by our usual spot. I will have a full report for you by then. Nodding in acknowledgement, Fareeha watched the black falcon disappear into the darkening sky. When Raptora was gone, she revved the engine and peeled into the road, thundering her way downtown.
----
By the time she pulled into the parking lot behind The Wolf Bar downtown, night had set in fully and the Hudson City streets were positively packed with people out celebrating the start of the weekend. Fareeha leaned her bike against the wall and dug in her jacket pocket for an old dog treat, tossing it to the young man slouching by the back entrance to the bar. The werewolf bouncer grinned at her toothily. Nodding in satisfaction, Fareeha set her helmet and motorcycle jacket against the wall, and settled against it to wait.
She didn’t have to wait long. Right on time, she heard Raptora’s heavy form land on the chain-link fence at the back of the parking lot, and approached them for their report. They had picked up and killed a mouse along the way, and Fareeha politely averted her eyes as they began to tear into the carcass with their beak, their voice still calm and measured in her head. No more activity than usual in most parts of town. A couple of new hauntings, but the ghosts are too new and agile to exorcise right now. There’s a vampire wreaking havoc on the East Side, but I heard whispers that the Vampire Council is going to take care of it.
Fareeha snorted. “As if the Vampire Council will be able to do anything,” she said derisively. “I can borrow a stake from the wolves right now –“
The vampire is not important right now, Raptora interrupted, their voice grave. I was almost finished with my patrol when I sensed demonic activity. Fareeha looked up at once, all her senses suddenly alert and taut with tension.
“Demonic activity?” she repeated. Her fingers itched to grab the hilt of her sword, but she clenched them into a fist to calm herself. “There hasn’t been a demon in Hudson City since...”
Since Ana disappeared, yes, Raptora finished wearily. It’s not very far from here. I don’t think it’s doing anything right now, just lying in wait, but I would encourage you to approach it with caution. There is no way this is just a simple coincidence.
“I killed every demon in Hudson City five years ago,” Fareeha replied, her voice tight. “I know what I’m doing.” She thought that Raptora would scold her for being so bold, but their eyes only glittered with pride and anticipation.
That’s what I want to hear. If you are ready, then follow me.
On silent feet, Fareeha followed Raptora’s shadow against the sky, jogging with long, easy strides. She tried to use the back alleys and hop fences whenever possible, to stay hidden from the general public. She didn’t want to deal with all the questions that would ensue from seeing a young dark-skinned woman running with a gun strapped to her thigh. As they neared the demon’s location, the Eye of Horus began to prickle again, the discomfort becoming more prominent as they got closer. Fareeha felt such a rush of potent relief at her tattoo’s return to normal function that she almost stumbled.
At Raptora’s direction, Fareeha finally came to a stop in a dark alley much like the rest. Trash clung permanently to the corners where brick building met pavement. Fareeha’s boot crunched on a pile of spent cigarettes, startling a group of rats out of their hiding place. She could feel Raptora’s beady gaze following the rodents as they skittered into the shadows. It stank of mildew, old beer, and piss. Fareeha itched to flick on her flashlight, but that would only scare the demon away. Demons were intelligent, manipulative, and malicious. Like rats – where there was one demon, there were sure to be more. She had to immobilize it with a sigil, then try to get as much information out of it as possible before she killed it.
Raptora’s claws shifted uneasily on her shoulder. Fareeha felt a thread of fear shoot through her, trembling like a taut bowstring. She strained her ears for any sound, but only heard the distant noise of cars on the road. A beat of tense silence, then the Eye suddenly burned, more intensely than with any other demon Fareeha had ever killed. She gasped in pain and surprise. Unable to make sense of the new sensation, Fareeha almost missed the scream.
High and panicked, like a cornered animal, the voice cut through Fareeha’s confusion like a knife. She bolted forward, deeper into the alley, searching for the source of the sound. Her sword was already in her hand, held loosely at combat readiness. The edge of the blade, gilded with a thin layer of the finest quality gold, could slice through a demon’s physical form effortlessly. The demon’s spiritual form would be harder to destroy, but Fareeha could recite the incantation in her sleep. It echoed in her mind as she turned a corner in the alleyway, but she stopped dead, shocked into incomprehension.
A young woman scrabbled on the dirty ground, choking on the morphing, grey, grotesque hand that held her pinned to the ground. The creature – demon – was unlike anything Fareeha had ever seen. It took a humanoid shape, highly unusual for demons, with great clawed hands and huge shoulders. Its face was a white mask, blank but dripping with ferocity. Reddish smoke seemed to come off it in waves, pooling at its feet like a ghastly mist. Its skin was constantly moving, like shapes were fighting for dominance beneath the thin surface. The demon was whispering something unintelligible into the young woman’s ear as she sobbed in terror, her face slowly turning purple. She was punching it, kicking it, but it didn’t even notice the weak blows.
Fareeha stood frozen for a long, stretching moment full of horror. She couldn’t process the creature that was killing this woman. She had never met anything this terrifyingly dangerous, and she felt her muscles freeze and deaden in fear.
Only Raptora’s falcon shriek in her ear startled her out of her stupor. Kill it! They screamed. It’s going to kill her! With a beat of their great wings they were in the air, bravely trying to assault the creature with their claws. They passed clean through the thing like smoke, but it stopped and growled, gazing up at the falcon in confusion. Fareeha finally moved, her sword fluid in her hands again, a raw-throated yell bursting out of her.
She lunged, and slashed the demon diagonally across the back. She felt a sense of savage satisfaction as the sword connected with phantom flesh, the gold burning great sores into the demon’s back. It shrieked in fury and let go of the woman, who went immediately limp. As it turned its back on the woman to attack Fareeha, she thrust out her hand, fingers curled into the sigil she needed. She yelled the incantation, and felt her Eye burn with power.
“In the name of Horus, I strike you. In the name of Horus, I immobilize you. In the name of Horus, you will obey!”
The Arabic rolled fluidly off her tongue, and a complex circular design, bright blue and gold, flashed into being on the ground below the demon’s feet. The sigil froze the demon in place immediately, and it thrashed in confusion, uttering hoarse screams. Fareeha felt only the cerulean blaze of power in her Eye, focused around the sigil of her fingers. “Where did you come from? What is your name?” she demanded, still in Arabic for the spell would break if she spoke any other language.
The blank white mask turned toward her, broken by narrow diamonds for black, soulless eyes. Red smoke leaked from a mouth that was only a jagged hole in the bone-white face. The thing looked at her for a moment, then laughed, its voice deep and distinctly mocking.
“I am Reaper,” the demon said, each word spoken with many voices layered on top of one another. A dull hissing whispering sounded in Fareeha’s ear, and the pain in her Eye suddenly spiked until it was like a white-hot brand against her cheek. She cried out, and in her momentary lapse in concentration the sigil flickered and died away. The demon laughed in many voices, and shattered the last of the blue magic like candyfloss. Fareeha stumbled and fell back in pain.
Above the dull thudding of her heart, she heard Raptora’s shriek. She sank to her knees, overcome by the agony in her Eye, as Reaper advanced slowly upon her, laughing all the time. As the sharp black claws closed around her throat, Fareeha felt a tear roll down her cheek, and looked one last time into the remorseless white face.
“I’m sorry, Ami,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
Air rushed in her ears, and with a dull thud she dropped to the ground, her ankle twisting painfully beneath her. Astonished that she was still alive, Fareeha took a moment to look up at the demon standing, trembling, above her. The mask was gone, and a human face, torn with horror and grief, stared down at her. The smoke, the shifting flesh – all gone. Only a tall, dark-skinned man with close-cropped black hair and an untidy beard gazed down at her. Scars crisscrossed his cheek and bisected his nose, and his eyes were filmy with tears. “I – I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice nothing like that of the demon, and disappeared into a shifting cloud of shadows.
In the next moment, the demon was gone.
The pain in her Eye faded slowly away, until she couldn’t feel it at all. Fareeha coughed a few times, already feeling bruises on her neck, and struggled to stand up. Raptora landed back on her shoulder, clicking their beak in concern. She sheathed her sword behind her back, and tested her weight on her ankle. The joint throbbed, but held, and she limped over to the prone form of the woman that Reaper had attacked. Every limb felt like lead, and she could already feel a sharp headache forming behind her right eye.
Just as she bent down to take the woman’s pulse, her eyelashes fluttered. She squinted up at Fareeha with blazingly blue eyes, and Fareeha noticed for the first time that the woman was almost totally naked, draped in loose, snow-white robes. “Where did he go? That... that thing?” she asked, pupils blown wide in panic. Her accent was subtle and hard to place, but her face was distinctly European, narrow and rosy, framed by untidy golden hair. Fareeha felt her mouth go dry, and blamed it on her exhaustion.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I think we’re safe, for now. My name is Fareeha.” Bright blue eyes flickered to hers, wide and beguiling with trust. Her heart stuttered between her ribs.
“Fareeha. My name is Angela. Thank you.”