Chapter Text
Exhaustion weighed heavy in Rumi's bones but she couldn't rest. Couldn't stop.
Not when Gwi-Ma's most recent pack of demons was on her heels.
Sweat beaded at Rumi's brow and she resisted the urge to wipe at it. Any movement could give her away. Perched in a tree, watching a water demon scan the ground for her, Rumi didn't even dare to breathe.
Here is a fact: the vast majority of human predators are terrestrial, meaning humans never evolved the instinct to look up when searching for danger. Demons were the same way.
Slowly, the water demon started to walk away.
Unless you gave them a reason to look up, of course.
The branch under Rumi's feet cracked. Glowing gold eyes found hers.
"She's here!"
Shit.
Rumi instinctively reached for her hwando, briefly forgetting it was abandoned in an alley somewhere. But her fingers didn't close around nothing.
The glow of a Hunter's weapon, her weapon, lit up the early dusk.
Rumi dropped out of the tree, plunging her sain-geom into the demon's chest, dissolving her into dust.
Rapidly scanning the rest of the park, Rumi counted at least seven other demons. She'd faced worse odds, but not like this. Not when she'd slept maybe three hours over the course of the last five days. Not when she was already injured.
Her patterns pulsed, a dangerous purple-red, and Rumi growled, feeling her pupils contract to slits.
Try me.
"Traitor," One of the demons snarled, stepping into the light of her sword.
Rumi didn't bother responding. It wasn't like they were wrong.
Did she have enough energy to teleport? Probably not.
Seven on one then.
Rumi lunged forward, dispatching the demon who'd spoken in one clean swipe.
Clean. Her fights could be clean now, a far cry from the blood baths she'd caused as Gwi-Ma's attack dog.
The other demons circled her, slowly skulking closer.
"You can still come home, Rumi," Gwi-Ma's voice slithered into her mind. "I'll forgive you."
What was it you said? That I would know nothing but agony until you got tired of my screams? Get out of my head.
"Fine. Have it your way." Purple rippled across the park as the demons' patterns lit up. "Get her."
In a tidal wave, the demons surged forward and it became a dance of death.
Claws were deflected by crystallized starlight. Gasps of pain cut short as the one shouting turned to dust.
The Honmoon rippled around Rumi, almost a taunt: harm her, I dare you.
But the demons dared.
Rumi ducked under a slash, bisecting the demon who'd tried to grab her sword arm-
(Move!)
and couldn't react fast enough to dodge the next attack.
Claws dug into the right side of her chest, dragging downward. Blood burst from the gouges, pain exploded outward.
(No! Not when I just got you back.)
Rumi's sword slipped from her grasp.
Instinct, rather than conscious thought brought her left hand up, claws extended, shoving into the demon's throat, clenching around his windpipe, and pulling.
He collapsed to the ground.
Rumi followed shortly after. Black spots swam in her vision, threatening to drag her under.
She had to get out of here.
"If you return to me I'll make sure you survive. Stay here and you will not."
She had no one to turn to in the human realm. Celine would sooner kill her than help a demon. Jinu was still running his Saja Boy and she had no idea how to track him down.
Well…there was Zoey. The bubbly singer she'd met on that roof a few years ago. The one she hadn't spoken to in months.
(Yes. Her. Go to her and things will be alright.)
With the last dregs of her strength, Rumi vanished into red smoke, reappearing in an apartment living room.
Zoey was lying on her couch, phone in hand. When Rumi burst into existence in front of her, she screamed.
"Rumi? What? How?"
"Demons are real," Rumi slurred, "I need your help."
Then her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she collapsed, unconscious before she hit the floor.
~~~~
Zoey was having a bad day. Or night she supposed, the last rays of sun starting to die on the horizon.
The police had finally let her go, unable to prove she had any connection to her bandmates deaths disappearances.
Screaming, crying, monsters she didn't understand, "Zoey, please," running like a coward, glowing weapons.
She'd been instructed to stay in the city while the investigation was underway and released back into the world. Somehow news of Min-su and Ae-rin's fates had leaked and now that was the only thing on her feed.
Despondently, Zoey swiped farther down her phone, another video theorizing what happened filling the empty space of her apartment. It was getting late. She should go to bed, try to get at least some sleep.
Zoey flicked past the video, a new one starting, this time insisting she must have had something to do it because she survived.
Well it's not like they're far off.
Couch springs groaned under her as Zoey shifted, trying to gather the energy to get up, to put her phone down and go to sleep. She didn't deserve to rest. Not when she was alive and they weren't.
(Hello, hello. Pay attention. You're going to be needed soon.)
Zoey looked around, confused. A sense of unease thrummed under her skin.
Something was wrong.
Red smoke erupted in the center of her living room, just like that night, when monsters stepped out of it.
But instead of a creature with blue skin, glowing eyes, and a wicked smile the smoke coalesced into a woman.
A woman with close cropped purple hair.
Rumi.
Zoey couldn't help it. She screamed, phone clattering out of her grasp.
"Rumi? What? How?" She sputtered, trying to make sense of her friend who could apparently teleport.
"Demons are real. I need your help."
Then like a marionette with its strings cut, Rumi pitched forward, collapsing onto the floor before Zoey could catch her.
What the fuck.
Zoey surged off the couch, crouching in front of her friend.
It had been a few months since she'd seen Rumi, since she'd dropped off the face of the earth much to the concern of Zoey, and it didn't seem like time had been kind. Claw-like scars ran across her lips, her cheeks were sunken, shadows fierce enough to be bruises sat under her eyes. And most pressingly, blood soaked her shirt.
Blood that was quickly spreading.
Zoey darted to her kitchen, grabbing a fistful of towels, pausing just long enough to flick on the lights, and returned to Rumi's side.
The white of the towels quickly turned to red, but Zoey couldn't think of anything else to do. She barely had any medical knowledge and whatever Rumi was wrapped up in, she had a feeling getting the police involved was a bad idea.
So Zoey held the towels to Rumi's chest, praying to whatever would listen for her friend to be alright.
(She's one of mine, she will survive. Especially with you here.)
Eventually the blood slowed and Zoey lessened the pressure, leaning back to take stock of Rumi.
Tattoos, an angry shade purple crawled across her arms. In the same shape as the ones the monsters in the hotel had.
Was Rumi one of them?
No. No way.
There had to be a better explanation.
Returning her attention to Rumi, Zoey shifted her focus beyond the tattoos. Not all of those scars could be new, right? Zoey had seen Rumi's arms before and she could believe the tattoos being new. But the scars? Those were old. Faded. In the shape of claws, like the ones on her face. Like the ones on her chest.
"Rumi, what's going on?" Zoey asked the unconscious body of her friend. "What do you mean 'Demons are real?'"
A small groan found its way past Rumi's lips. Gold eyes locked onto Zoey's.
Her eyes definitely didn't used to be that color. Zoey thought, fighting back her instinctual flinch.
"I meant what I said," Rumi rasped. "Demons are real."
Rumi tried to sit up, but Zoey pressed a hand to her uninjured shoulder, her left shoulder.
A snarl, ragged, furious, ripped through the apartment. Rumi's lips pulled back to reveal fangs, pupils that used to be round narrowed to cat-like slits.
Zoey jerked back, terrified.
The snarl cut off abruptly, Rumi clenching her jaw and averting her gaze. "I'm sorry," She whispered. "I just- don't touch my left shoulder."
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched you without asking. But you shouldn't move. Your injuries could reopen."
Rumi rolled the words around in her head, then started to sit up again, slower this time. "I know my body. It's already started to knit closed."
That didn't sound right to Zoey, but she didn't feel like arguing with Rumi tonight. She'd just keep a close eye on her.
"So, demons are real?" She asked again.
"Very, very real." Rumi gently tugged at her shirt, inspecting the claw marks and blood stain.
"Are they what did that to you? Are they the reason you disappeared?" Anger sparked behind Zoey's chest. Had she nearly lost someone else to them?
Rumi blinked. "You believe me?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Zoey was taken aback. Of course she'd believe her friend.
"Because it sounds insane? Because humans usually dismiss anything that doesn't fit into their worldview?"
"Considering I think I've encountered some, it would be weird if I didn't"
Rumi inhaled sharply. "You've encountered demons? When? How did you survive?"
"It was a few weeks ago. My bandmates and I were attacked in our hotel." Zoey swallowed thickly, trying to get the words out. "I'm not sure how I survived. It had something to do with this though." She summoned the glowing knife, spinning it around to offer the hilt to Rumi.
Rumi, who had frozen, staring at the knife with horror.
Laughter slowly bubbled out of Rumi, laughter with a manic edge. "Twenty years! Twenty years you spend searching for them and I find one in under a week!"
Rumi reached out, blue lines that danced in the edges of Zoey's vision occasionally rippling under her hand. When she pulled her arm back, a glowing sword came with it.
"Does the term 'Hunter' mean anything to you Zoey?"
~~~~
"So to summarize, demons are real and are kept in their realm by a barrier called the 'Honmoon' that is protected by Hunters. And I'm one of them."
Rumi nodded sharply, glad Zoey seemed to understand.
"No way."
What?
"Why? You've believed everything else." Why was this the sticking point for Zoey?
"Because I'm me?" Zoey gestured to herself, "What's so special about me? I'm not the type of person that gets chosen for a grand destiny. I'm a coward. The first time I saw a demon, I ran."
That…wasn't technically true. The first time Zoey saw a demon, she let her bandage her twisted ankle and offered to meet her again.
But still.
"I'm glad you ran," Rumi said, flatly, trying to not dig her claws into the carpeted floor. "That's probably the only thing that kept you alive." And Rumi didn't want to imagine a world without Zoey in it.
Zoey laughed, a sharp, bitter thing. "What good is being a mythical protector if I can't even protect my bandmates? If I'm supposed to be Hunter, why are my bandmates dead?"
They're not dead. They're a part of Gwi-Ma now.
Trust me, that's worse.
"Demons aren't something you face without training." Rumi rushed to say, desperate for Zoey to understand. "Live to fight another day. We aren't something you fuck with."
The air in the living room froze at those last words.
"We?" Zoey whispered, eyes darting to Rumi's patterns, writhing like a bundle of snakes.
"Still thinking of yourself as one of mine? How quaint."
Rumi opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, before hanging her head.
"We."
"You're a demon?" The Honmoon rippled, but Rumi refused to pull her eyes off the carpet.
"I am. But somehow, I'm also a Hunter. I don't know why the Honmoon chose me. I don't know how it's going to react to me. I don't know how I'm going to react to it."
It's better to die by blade than fire.
But I don't want Zoey to kill me.
Not when I have so much I could teach her.
Not when I can still protect her.
Rumi cracked the barest smile. "Whatever concerns you have about being a bad choice, I'm worse."
Zoey slowly reached out a hand, fingers hovering over Rumi's arm, above her patterns.
"Can I?"
What?
Rumi nodded, shivering ever so slightly at the sensation, warmth of Zoey's hands sinking into her skin.
"They're pretty," Zoey murmured, watching the purples shift as she dragged a finger across them.
Pretty? The marks of a monster, of a predator, were pretty?
"No one's called them that before."
The Honmoon spun around the two of them, as if it were trying to wrap them in an embrace.
(Good. Good. Be close to each other. Be near. You need each other.)
Zoey and Rumi flinched at the almost-voice that rippled down the threads encasing them.
But something was missing.
"We need to find the third Hunter." Rumi stood, dislodging Zoey, the gouges on her ribs twinging. "With the two of us finding each other, she'll be in danger. Do you have any idea who it could be?"
Zoey furrowed her brow. "No. But I think I know someone with enough connections to put some feelers out."
"That's good." Rumi nodded again, headache flaring at the sudden movement.
"One problem. We didn't part on the best of terms last time we spoke."
~~~~
Watching Rumi stitch her wounds closed with craft store thread and a sewing needle whisked over a lighter was disconcerting, to say the least.
"Do you want some painkillers?" Zoey asked, staring at the flesh cinching together as Rumi pulled the stitch taught.
Rumi shook her head. "The painkillers you can get from a store don't work on demons. We burn through them too quickly. I will take alcohol if you have some."
Zoey pulled a bottle of soju from the freezer. "What do you need it for?"
Rumi unscrewed the cap, took a long swig, then poured the liquid over the stitches. A low growl emerging from her mouth. And not a 'quiet grumble from the back of the throat' growl, a truly cat-like sound that exposed fangs.
"Sterilizing injuries."
It took Zoey's brain a moment to catch up, still thinking about that sound. "I have hydrogen peroxide. You could have used that instead. It's not ideal because it also removes clotting but it does get rid of bacteria."
Rumi blinked, as if stunned.
"Cool. How have you lived this long if you don't know how to properly treat injuries?" Zoey grumbled.
"I know what hydrogen peroxide is," Rumi protested. "Alcohol is just far more common in the demon realm. You said something about a contact?"
The deflection was far from subtle, but Zoey allowed it. "Mira. She's…" Zoey trailed off, the words 'a friend' dying on her tongue.
"We were never friends! I never cared about you!"
"Someone with connections," Zoey finished lamely. "I'm not exactly a popular person in the music world right now, so she's our best bet at finding a musician who can interact with the Honmoon."
Honmoon. It was a word she'd never heard until tonight, but when her mouth formed it, it felt right.
"How do we reach her?" Rumi's eyes were narrowed, drumming her claws against her thigh.
Zoey sighed. "I text her and hope she hasn't blocked me."
"And if that doesn't work?"
"Then we're shit out of luck."
The laugh that forced its way out of Rumi's throat was raw and jagged. "Shit out of luck. So no different than my situation a few hours ago."
With shaky fingers, Zoey opened her messages, scrolling to Mira's contact, the last message she'd sent taunting her.
From Mira: See you soon!
That was months ago at this point. The longest Zoey had gone without speaking to Mira since they'd met.
Before she could think better of it, Zoey sent a simple text.
From Zoey: Can we talk? It's urgent.
From Zoey: Someone's life might be in danger urgent.
Straight to the point, proper punctuation, no emojis. If that didn't convince Mira she was serious, nothing would.
Or she would think Zoey's phone had been stolen.
One of the two.
"Now time to see if she responds," Zoey dropped her phone on the couch, resisting the urge to check if the text had been read yet. "I have some clothes you can change into. They might be small but no offense, you stink."
Rumi tugged on her shirt, claw holes widening. "A change of clothes would be appreciated."
Just as she handed off the fresh clothing, Zoey's phone buzzed and she leaped at it.
From Mira: Meet me at the tea shop we grabbed lunch at in two hours.
From Mira: This had better be good.
"She's agreed to meet!" Zoey looked up from her phone only to have to bite back a gasp.
Rumi had decided to change in the middle of the living room, shirt discarded, torso bare to the world.
Under normal circumstances, Zoey would be drooling over the half naked woman in front of her. Muscles rippling under her skin, lines of purple drawing the eye down her spine.
But the awe was undercut by the sheer amount of scar tissue marring her body. Claw marks so like the ones running down her ribs crossed her back. What were presumably fang punctures near her right shoulder. A neat line slashed across the base of her neck.
And most concerningly, gnarled burn scars twisted along her left shoulder and arm.
"What happened to you?" The question exited Zoey's mouth without thought. She'd suspected for a while that Rumi didn't have a great home life. But this?
Rumi couldn't have been much older than her.
And many of those scars looked old.
Rumi turned, borrowed shirt halfway up her arms, revealing even more scars on her chest. A cluster of punctures above her hip. Faint discoloration near the V of her ribs.
A starburst above her collarbone that dragged downward.
"Life in the demon realm," Rumi said. There was no anger, no grief. Just raw acceptance. "You aren't popular in the music world, I'm not popular in the demon world."
"Why?" It was petulant, but how could someone hate Rumi that much? How could someone look at a kid (because some those scars had to have been from when she was a kid) and cause such harm?
"They never really needed a reason." Rumi shrugged, pulling on the shirt and shucking off her pants next, revealing yet more scars and purple marks. "Me being half human was the excuse to start though."
"Half human? I thought you said you were a demon." Even as Zoey said it, horrible familiarity twisted in her chest. Too Korean to be American, too American to be Korean. That being all the reason some people needed to hate her.
"I am. I'm just also part human." There was a bitterness to Rumi's words, but she continued before Zoey could ask. "Where are we meeting?"
"A tea shop a bit of a walk from here. We should leave soon."
The shirt was snug in the shoulders and the pants revealed Rumi's ankles. Zoey felt like a repressed Victorian lady catching a glimpse of them.
"Here." Zoey offered a beanie. "The hair and ears are pretty distinctive."
Rumi started, then Zoey blinked and suddenly she was looking at the Rumi she'd been meeting in that park for years. The one without scars and purple marks. The one with rounded ears and brown eyes.
"Demons wouldn't be very effective if we couldn't disguise ourselves." But she accepted the beanie nonetheless, covering her shorn purple hair.
"Are you sure we can trust this person?" Rumi asked as Zoey locked the apartment door behind them.
Despite everything that happened between them, the answer came to Zoey in a heartbeat. "I trust Mira with my life."
~~~~
Mira was crazy.
Truly, genuinely, absolutely crazy if she was considering this.
She hadn't just burned the bridge between her and Zoey, she'd blown it sky high with the intent of it never being able to be recovered. She'd dug her claws into the soft spots Zoey had shown her, had trusted her with, because she knew they'd hurt.
And yet, here she was.
Sneaking out of the manor to go to the hole in the wall tea shop Zoey loved, because she'd texted her once.
Texted her saying someone was in danger.
The bus hissed to a stop and Mira tugged her hat lower over her eyes, even as she heard Zoey laugh that anyone knew what they were looking for could tell she was rich.
Lost in her thoughts, Mira walked to the tea shop on instinct, mind swirling. What could Zoey possibly want? What would she gain from asking her here?
Closure over that night? Revenge of some kind?
And what did she mean someone was in danger?
A chair squeaked, startling Mira.
Zoey had beaten her here, rising from the outdoor seating to greet her.
And she'd brought a companion. A woman with broad shoulders, short hair tucked into a beanie, and a glare that Mira was surprised didn't put her six feet under.
…Did Mira know her? She looked eerily familiar but Mira couldn't place where she knew her from.
She wouldn't have been caught dead at the parties her parents hosted. Maybe she went to one of the same boarding schools as Mira?
As Mira wracked her memory, Zoey waved her over.
And like a kicked dog, Mira obeyed.
"Mira. Good to see you again," Zoey said flatly with none of the joy Mira had grown used to being directed at her in her tone.
She deserved that.
"This is Rumi," Zoey continued, gesturing at her companion, who did not rise from her chair, did not incline her head, did not acknowledge the introduction in any way aside from narrowing her eyes farther.
Wait.
"Rumi? As in your probably-mafia friend Rumi?"
Zoey'd mentioned her a handful of times, always in concern over her safety. But Mira didn't think she'd ever get to meet Rumi.
"Probably mafia?" Rumi looked to Zoey, brows shooting up. "You thought I was part of the mafia?"
"You smell like blood more often than not, you know field medicine, and are constantly dropping horrifying tidbits about your life. What else was I supposed to think?"
Rumi opened her mouth, closed it, tilted her head, then shrugged. "Fair enough."
"Is that Zoey's shirt?" Mira asked, finally registering the article of clothing.
"Mine was covered in blood and unsalvageable," Rumi deadpanned.
…Really not helping the mafia accusation.
Mira inhaled slowly, bracing herself. "Why did you ask to meet me? I thought I made it clear last time we spoke I wanted nothing to do with you."
Hurt and anger flashed behind Zoey' eyes. "That you did." And now Mira would have been 12 feet under due to the combined force of Rumi and Zoey's glares. "But this is more important than what happened between us."
You're not important. Mira heard loud and clear. "Fine. Who's in danger and how am I the person you reach out to help?"
"You should probably sit down," Rumi said, gesturing to the chairs in front of her. "This isn't an easy conversation."
And Mira knew that voice. Where the hell did she know that voice from?
Ignoring the itch of danger in the back of her brain, Mira pulled out a chair, metal screeching against concrete.
When Mira sat down across from Zoey and Mira, forming a triangle of bodies, it was like something in her soul relaxed. Righted itself. Said 'yes, that's what this is supposed to be like.'
(Together. Together at last, Hunters mine. I'm sorry it took so long.)
All three of them stiffened at the same time.
"I repeat," Mira said, shoving aside that feeling. "Who is in danger and how is it relevant to me?"
"Because you're the only rich fuck Zoey knows." The edge of Rumi's mouth tugged into a grin, revealing uncannily sharp canine teeth. "And that means you have a higher likelihood of knowing people."
The insult would have been deserved from Zoey, not from this relative stranger. "Watch it, I can still walk away."
"No you won't," Zoey whispered. "You wouldn't have shown up if you weren't willing to help.
You don't know me. Mira wanted to snarl. You don't know the choices I've made to save myself.
But instead she dropped her eyes to the table. "That still doesn't explain who's in danger."
Zoey hesitated for a long moment, glancing to Rumi who sighed and dragged her hand through the air.
Strands of blue, the same ones Mira had been seeing in the corners of her vision for as long as she could remember, solidified into a sword.
"Demons are real. Hunters are people who can kill them. Zoey and I need help tracking down the third Hunter."
Wait.
What?
The weapon seemed to hum as Rumi placed it on the table, blade shimmering with light, crossed with constellation-like patterns.
So similar to the weapon she'd pulled out of thin air a few weeks ago.
"You're fucking with me." Mira's mind was spinning. She wasn't going crazy?
"I know it's a lot to take in," Zoey said, attempting to be soothing. "But I swear we're not joking. The sooner we can find the third Hunter-"
"Those guys were demons?"
Zoey closed her mouth so quickly her teeth clacked.
"You've seen demons before?" Rumi said slowly. "Look human but with purple patterns on their skin?"
Mira didn't answer. Instead she reached her hand out and let a solid shape form in it.
The polearm clacked onto the ground, gold and blue humming its tune in sync with Rumi's weapon.
But something was still missing.
And then Zoey twisted her hand, calling forth and trio of blades and the harmony was complete.
Zoey laughed, incredulous. "It's the three of us. We're this generation's Hunters. Rumi?" She asked, looking to her friend.
Rumi was staring at the blades on the table, pale, sweat dripping down her forehead, veins pulsing.
…Those veins were very purple.
She wiped at her nose, blood smearing across her face.
"We need to get out of here," She said suddenly, standing, chair clattering to the ground.
"Why?" Mira dismissed her polearm, also standing.
"He's sending people. He knows it's us." The sun caught Rumi's eyes, making them look gold for a split second.
"Who's he?" Mira damn near snarled. Fuck cryptic bullshit, Rumi had just revealed demons were real and Mira was supposed to kill them. She needed answers yesterday.
"Gwi-Ma. King of demons." Rumi swallowed thickly. "And now that he knows who the Hunters are, he'll never stop."
Then the world lit up with magenta as a tear in reality opened next to Mira.
~~~~
Zoey stumbled backward, away from the tear, knives dispelling into nothing.
Gwi-Ma. Rumi had mentioned him in passing, that he was the one demons harvested souls for. That he was the one who ruled the demon realm.
But there was something about the surety at which Rumi had spoken his name at his approach which put her teeth on edge.
Whatever. It was probably a demon thing. And could wait until they were safe.
"Get back!" Rumi shouted, falling into a defensive stance, glamor melting away like wet papier-mâché
A defensive stance Zoey could tell even with her limited (non-existent) knowledge of fighting was bad.
Shit. Her arms. Left permanently slowed, right currently hampered.
An arm forced its way out of the breach and Zoey summoned a knife, flinging it at her target.
It missed, but the demon paused long enough for Rumi to stab it, dissolving into red ash.
"What are you doing?" Rumi growled, eyes gold, fangs out. "I have this covered."
"No, you don't," Zoey said flatly. "You're injured and exhausted." A trio of demons tumbled out of the breach and Zoey threw another knife.
This time her aim was true. One of them exploded into ash and the others warbled in…fear?
Mira surged forward, stepping around Rumi slashing a demon in the chest who tried to tag her in the ankles in response.
Rumi pinned its arm to the cobblestones, stopping it before it could land a hit on Mira and kicked its dissolving body back into the breach.
"You don't know what you're doing. You'll only get hurt."
Mira clobbered the remaining demon in the head, stunning it so Rumi could shove her blade through its neck.
"Better us injured than you dead," Zoey countered, palming her next knife.
Rumi clenched her jaw, but didn't have time to respond as more demons flooded out of the breach. Different than the ones that had started the incursion.
Pale grey skin, blank masks for faces, overly long limbs tipped in claws.
"Faceless," Rumi said like a curse. "Stay out of their range!"
Before Mira could react, Rumi grabbed her arm and shoved her towards Zoey, out of the line of fire and turned to face to oncoming horde herself.
She moved like a storm, cutting massive swaths through the demons, leaving ash hanging in her wake. Bouncing from dissolving body to dissolving body, teeth bared in a mimicry of a smile.
Occasionally a Faceless would slip her notice and Mira or Zoey would stab it, but the vast majority were felled by Rumi's sword.
She was terrifying.
And this was what she was capable of while injured and exhausted.
"How do we stop this?" Mira asked, wiping sweat off her brow, ducking away from a swing of claws then countering by smacking the demon with the base of her polearm.
"…singing."
"What?" Mira nearly shouted. "What do you mean singing?"
"I mean." Rumi huffed in exhaustion, pressing a hand against her torso, fingers coming away red. "The Honmoon is built on voices. Hunters stitch it closed using theirs."
"Honmoon?"
"Magical barrier between realms. I don't know. I've never done this before!"
Rumi's voice cracked on that last word, fear bleeding through.
Zoey's hands were trembling so badly it was getting hard to summon her knives. The stain on Rumi's shirt was spreading. Mira looked ready to keel over.
Zoey might not have been a good fighter.
But she could sing.
Inhaling shakily, Zoey hummed the opening notes to 'Constellations,' her favorite Sunlight Sisters song.
Rumi's head snapped up, Mira's eyes went wide.
But they joined in nonetheless.
And like a tuning fork struck against her soul, something felt right. Blue ignited in Zoey's vision, a bundle of light glowed behind Mira and Rumi's sternums.
Demons continued to turn to ash as they sang, breach slowly knitting closed.
They were doing it!
A grin split across Zoey's face, they were actually doing it.
Just as the breach sealed, one more demon burst through, slamming into Zoey, digging its claws into her hip.
She screamed, heat searing down her side, blood soaking her shirt.
It turned to Rumi, seeming to know its fate even before her sword started to move.
"Traitor," It snarled, just before turning to ash.
Zoey whimpered as she dropped to the ground, clutching at side where claws had pierced.
"We need to go. Now," Rumi stressed, bracing one arm under Zoey's shoulder. "We need to get somewhere safe."
"The demons are gone. Shouldn't we be more concerned about treating Zoey?" Mira asked, picking up Zoey's other arm.
"Not who I'm worried about."
Who. Not what.
Who could scare Rumi more than a pack of demons?
~~~~
Rumi and Mira marched on, dragging Zoey between them, hoping the trail of blood didn't raise too many suspicions.
At some point during the fight, Rumi had lost her beanie, revealing purple hair. She'd also gained a number of scars.
And the markings that crawled across the things they just fought.
Recognition finally sparked in Mira's brain. An alley. A gravely voice. A chase. Missing persons cases.
So that's where she knew Rumi from.
Rumi was a demon.
Rumi had tried to kill her.
Oh fuck.
What were her plans for Zoey?