Chapter one

The Amazon rainforest

Casimiro crouched on the large flat rock overlooking a wide range of forest ahead, two stories up, his weight balanced evenly on the high ledge. Above him, moonlight seeped heavy ribbons of silver and shadows of blue through the skyscraping canopy, a constant flickering glow, as the wind quietly whispered through the trees. It was the usual quiet, insects chirping, frogs croaking and the mellow harmony of running water from a nearby stream, a pure rainforest ambience. But there was something else out there, something dark and unforgiving and relentless in its pursuit, something like him. He gazed down abruptly, a glistening of pale wet skin caught in his peripheral, sharp, quick movement only Valarian eyes would see. Rustling branches swayed gently below, eager to reveal its disturbances, while pockets of black velvet void taunted from behind. He ran a hand through his electric black curls, then reached behind to pull the handle of one of the many six inch daggers

fitted in their compartment at his back; gripping the hilt tight, he lowered his stance and waited. It didn't take long for the Demen to reveal itself. A repeated Tick, click, tick of its jaw, a low and steady wet gurgle of the throat and slight cock of its head opened its location below just perfectly, its skin glistening again as it moved low to the ground on all fours. At that very moment, all sound of anything less threatening in the forest ceased to speak and dead silence encompassed their radius. Its presence was sharply feared. The previous night, he and four other hunters had been on the trail of six Demens reported to have been seen in the Amazon. The Neutral Assistance associationaka the N.A.Ahad missioned the group of men to take care of the situation, after an anonymous report of two missing tourists from the Bungalow resort had been sent to their database. The area reported and where the men had originally found the trail was cleared and by morning, all five Demens were dead. The men had started back to their Bungalow lodging, and readied themselves to pack it up that evening and head back to Rio. Cass had wanted to pick up a few supplies from his house in the forest, but on his way there hed picked up a day old trail of a Demen instead, a trail outside the radius of the originally targeted area. Rubbles of white bones, flesh, torn blood stained clothing, and shoes had been found at the end of the trail and opened up into a small damp cave only a Demen would

call home. Hed surveyed the area making mental notes and pin pointing their hunting directions. But rather than heading back to the Bungalow lodge, report his findings and return with back up, hed took cover in the cave until nightfall had blanketed the sky once more. Now here he was, in eager pursuit of a single Demen hunting not far from its cave. The beast had slipped out into the forest as soon as the darkness ensuring the suns travels had seized for the day. Silently, Casimiro had made his way up the rocky path following the Demen before perching himself directly above the creature. His grip tightened even more around the handle as he maneuvered the dagger, so the blade would point south, his thumb able to gently graze the small button on top. A quick silent jump off the ledge and he would be right on top of the beast, able to sink the blade of his dagger deep into the back side of the Demens heart. Another quick push of the top button releasing a stream of Black Poison hidden inside, a lethal injection to anything Valarian. He was often considered suicidal by most hunters for carrying multiple daggers stashed with doses of BP inside but, when dealing with the Demen, it was a necessity to be thorough. This wasnt his first time hunting the blood sucking, marrow eating bastards. He knew exactly what to expect. A blade straight through the heart would kill most Valarians but not the Demen. No, not them. They had to be mutilated, head, arms and legs cut off, body burned in a sweltry fire, till nothing but hot ash was left.

The Demen had the ability to regenerate at an alarming rate, could kill with one infectious bit, and were blind but had ears like a fucking bat. Stealth and silence were the only ways to sneak up on a monster like them. Another Tick, click, tick of its jaw and wet echoing gurgle of the throat, once again bated any growing ambiance in the forest. The creature moved forward slightly, head still cocked to the side, back glistening, not an unusual hunting pattern for their kind, but something was off. What was it hunting and where was its prey? Cass briefly shifted his gaze from the Demen to the blackened forest surrounding them. Scanning every bit of movement in the distance, inhaling the heady scent of humidity, dirt, and vegetation, before one thing struck him in odd accordthere was no favorable prey near this site. None, save himself. Merda! A whispered curse. His gaze quickly reconnected with his target, posed below, as still as Christ the redeemer statue, as if waiting, knowing the attack were on the horizon. Brows creased in a furrow of confusion, a compilation of doubt, deception, and anger seeped into his consciousness. Pushing the thought away he rose and readied himself for the jump below before the sudden rustling behind, forced his attention toward bouncy branches. His heart hammered against his chest, sweat ran cold over his skin, breaking goose bumps through the thick humidity.

No, couldnt be. Not in his long years of hunting had he ever seen Demens hunt in pairs. Were these bastards double teaming him? Hed only seen the one, only been tracking the one. But was it possible that there had been Tick, click, tick! Fuck! As soon as the mental curse broke the barrier of his mind, the Demen popped its bald slimy head out from cover. It turned to the side listening as it gurgled in the back of its throat. Again, Tick, click, tick, followed by another gurgle of spit, this time from the Demen below, seemingly closer than before. Cass took a dangerous step back, one heel of his foot half off the ledge, the other firmly on rock. He steadied his stance ready for attack, dagger griped so tight that his white knuckle flared violently in the dark. He played with the idea of taking the one facing him out first, before glancing over his shoulder, below where the other Demen wasno longer there. Bastards going to pay for setting me up, he thought dryly, giving another mental curse before turning back. Still, he didnt understand how this could be happening. Demens had never work together like this before, never. They were mindless, blood driven creatures; the things mortals make up in movies for entertainment.

If any other Valarian hunter like him had come across this kind of activity, an immediate report would have been given to the N.A.A and distributed throughout the Hunters Division (HD). But this, this was unheard of. He used his free hand to pull another dagger from behind his back, but the sound of steel chaffing steel drew the Demen to full attention, head snapping suddenly straight, as if it could see him. An open distorted mouth, giftednot! Cass with a full view of shark like teeth, as it belted a painful, fury pitched scream. His hands flew up to shield his ears from the gruesome sound, nearly dropping both daggers. The added sound of rocks falling from behind, below, signaled to him that the other Demen was making its was up. He would need to close the distance between the screaming Demen and him quickly, before he truly became out numbered. Cass charged as the beast rose to its feet, whipping its' claws though the air, hoping to rip flesh and draw blood. Whip. Duck. Missed. While squatted, Cass shot a leg out sweeping it under the Demen, taking him down with a loud thud before popping back up. Dirt kicked up into the air as the beast tried to right itself, a victory short spent, the Demen was back on all fours within seconds, bolting forward with razor sharp claws and teeth aimed at his throat. He maneuvered himself to the side, pivoting right to stab the creature in the chest as it

passed. He pushed the small button on the handle releasing the poison, then grabbed its miry head and introduced its face to Casss knee. Hard. Bone broke, noise cracking through their battle, and the Demen staggered back. The creature howled, an ear piercing beseech of pure pain. Cass squinted, forcing himself not to cover his ears again. Thick red liquid spurted from the wound at its chest, before the beast went limp crashing to the damp forest floor, black poison doing its justice. Another blood curdling scream ripped through the night from behind, a truly respectable move, giving Cass fair warning of an approaching attack. He spun on both heels, ready with the other dagger in hand just in time to see the Demen, he had originally been hunting, crawl up onto the ledge of the rock where hed been standing earlier. Its skin just as pale as the other, its eyes a misty white, with muscle roped in cords over long arms and legs; A beast built like a man with a clammy built up over skin, along with unique markings on the side of its torso. The Demen opened its mouth, mucus dripped out in globs, and that all too familiar sound of a wet gurgle erupted in the back of its throat. Rolling his eyes, Cass shifted the dagger from one hand to the other, and widened his stance eager for the fight. He signaled the Demen with the quick Flick, flick, of both hands. Come on you piece of shit. I still owe you. It didnt matter if it could see him or not, it heard him.

Another gut wrenching scream echoed through the blackened canopy, yet the creature didnt advance. It just stood there, perched on the rock as if a tasty meal had not presented itself. What was it waiting for, a paper invite? Come on! he repeated a bit louder. To his surprise the Demen silenced its usual tracking sounds, cocked its head to the side in what looked like the most uncomfortable position yet, and slowly lowered itself close to the ground. Quietly it started back down the steep rocks, retreating until it was completely out of view. Cass stood there stunned. It wasnt like the Demen to retreat. It wasnt like them to hunt in pairs either. It wasnt even like them to turn down a meal. But in this one eventful night, in all of his years of hunting and experience with the Demen, all three had happened.

Chapter 2

Slap!

Phoebe Washington groaned, just missing the bastard. Damn mosquitos, she thought, scratching the small, pink patch of skin, slowly inflaming on the left side of her shoulder. That was her fifth bite.

Its your perfume. Emma said for the third time since theyd gotten off the plane in Manaus, Brazil three hours ago. Only to hop back on to another, much smaller plane that took them to God knows where. And finally by boat, up a long winding river till they entered the very lonely, very secluded Bungalow Jungle Resort.

They were in the jungle, alright. Smack dab in the middle of the monkey swinging, toucan singing Amazon, which by the way was not where she had hoped to spend her vacation.

She had thought theyd be in Rio by now. Had hoped theyd be sitting on a beach, sipping martinis and soaking up the suns cancerous rays. Shed even thought theyd take a taxi and do a little sightseeing in town before settling down their first

night. Instead, here they were unpacking their suitcases in a hut like room with no airconditioning, in the middle of the rainforest.

So, now she was irritable. And tired. And, well just plain old cranky and she had good reason. Four weeks ago shed won a local radio challenged. Of course thats nothing to be cranky about. Right?

Now Phoebe, the radio broadcaster had said, the big grand question of the week, what is the capital of Brazil? The caller before her had yelled something ridiculous like Chile! The broadcaster had let the woman down gently, informing her that Chile was actually a country of its own. So, Phoebe had decided to call in knowing exactly what it was.

To her surprise, knowing the right answer had bought her two free, first class tickets and a four night stay in Rio de Janerio. Rio! Not the Bungalow. Four weeks, three days, two plane rides and a boat up a river and this is where she and her sister had landed. No one was able to explain to her what had happened, how it had happened or why.

She let out an exasperated breath then glanced down at the neatly fluffed, hotelwhite pillow, noticing a small bottle of bug repellent lotionmeant to take the place of what would have been the signature mint chocolate at any other welcoming resort grabbing the complimentary bottle she examine it. The simple white label read Bungalow Bug Buster repellent. Now how lame was that. Half wanting to chunk the

bottle across the room or out the window somewhere, she instead, twisted off the cap and poured a little into her palm, messaging her arms and letting the cream absorbed into her skin

Did you hear me? Emma Chuckled.

She rubbed a little faster. Yeah, I heard you for the umpteenth time, but its not my perfume. These blasted things just wont leave me alone. Slap! Her neck this time. And her sixth bite. Truth be told, she hadnt put on any perfume before boarding the plane this morning. But it seemed like every relentless mosquito in the forest had traveled near and far just to get a bite out of Phoebe.

A mumbled curse escaped from under her breath as she placed the bottle on the bamboo nightstand next to her bed. A digital clock sitting on top readway pastten P.M and she wondered where the first day of her vacation had gone.

Ahh, come one. Its not so bad here.

Not so bad? She turned around at that, brows furrowed. Were not supposed to be here. This is some enormous fluke that hasnt gotten any better since wed boarded the plan in Florida.

Her sister gave her questioning look. Well, maybe when they told you the location, you thought they said Rio instead. Rio kind of sound like the Bungalow. She shrugged.

Was she kidding? I think I would have noticed the difference if theyd told me the winning location was a Bungalow resort, in the middle of the Amazon, and not a beach front resort in Rio. At least shed hoped she would. Suddenly, she wasnt so sure anymore. No, wait. She was sure. She was not crazy.

As if reading her mind Emma said. I dont think youre crazy. I think they might have gotten our reservations mixed up with someone elses. You werent the only one who won a trip from that radio station. Didnt you say theyd been running questions to win tickets all week?

Phoebe turned back around and pretended to finish unpacking her suitcase. Yea. She muttered.

Well, then thats probably what happened. Somebody got our location and we got theirs, but there is nothing we can do about it now. As long as its free we should be game to have a good time. Who cares where we are. This is a free vacation. F.R.E.E. She spelled out loud. Free!

Even though the location wasnt ideal, she had to admit that the forest was enchanting and vividly exotic. Pink dolphins had littered the river, swimming up next to the boat as they made their way to the resort. Bright beaks of the local birds could be seen buried amongst swaying branches, squirrel monkeys and bush babies were hanging onto. Along with other animals she had never seen on T.V much less in real life. The place was truly magnificent.

She had wanted to remain mad about their situation. Had secretly wanted to ruin the vacation completely or at least enough to make her want to pack up and catch the next flight back to Floridaor the next boat. But with her sister here, she was forced in a good wayto make an effort.

So, Phoebe started, turning back around and plopping herself on the edge of her bed, weight sinking. Do you have any great plans to spark up our unpredicted location?

Actually There was a hint of mischief in her sisters tone and a devilish grin played her mouth. For a second she wondered what she was about to get herself into.

Phoebe frowned as she watched Emma make her way to the small kitchen area to open the door of the mini fridge. She propped her foot up to keep the door open while she pulled not one, not two, not even three but four tiny bottles of vodka from the basketfull of assorted alcoholic beveragessitting on top of the fridge then bent over

to check the small freezer compartment inside. A strand of mocha hair fell loose from her pony tail, as disappointed sagged her shoulders. We need ice. Emma looked to her Lots of ice. I think I saw an ice machine on our way up to the room.

You want to get drunk?

Not drunk. Just relax, She straightened herself and un-propped her foot from the bottom edge of the door, allowing it to swing shut as she sashayed her way to the bed shed claimed. Dropping the bottles to the cover next to her suitcase she said. It will get our head out of our minds for a little bit. So we can actually enjoy the free vacation. Emma shifted a gaze back up and wiggled her brows suggestively. Are you with me?

A good stiff drink would defiantly relax Phoebe, would defiantly sooth the irritation bubbling heavily under her constant effort to keep composed as well. Yes, having a drink might be the best idea since boarding the plane.

Her eyes wondered thoughtfully to the right where the dresser was against the front wall of the hut and immediately took in the reflection staring back at her. Her light brown hair was tossed into a low messy bun, as an attempt to keep cool during their travels to the lodge, yet even now her skin still glistened under the artificial light. Eyes dropping; she spotted the familiar round plastic bucket and quickly rose to grab the

container from the dresser top. Im with you. Ill go get ice, she said, rounding the corner of the dresser and heading toward the front door.

Wait! her sister called from behind.

She turned back, just in time to catch the black object Emma tossed her way, the thing colliding with the bucket making a hollow Clonk. She gazed down at a flashlight shed just caught, then back to her sister.

Emma shrugged. You know, just in case you run into a night dwelling creature of the Amazon. The corners of her mouth twitched as if trying to refrain from smiling then her brows arched up. Its halogen. She pointed.

Brows creased Phoebe asked. And you really think a halogen flashlight is the best weapon to wield with? She knew her sister was only joking. Waves of amusement in an effort to lighten the mood and their situation radiated from her. She meant well.

Certainly. Just give it a good whack on the head. Whatever you encounter.

Hopefully she wouldnt encounter anything. Ill make sure to use this, she held up the flashlight, With great precision and with as much accuracy as I can muster.

Thats the spirit.

Phoebe turned with a smile, opening the door to step outside. The night was still slightly muggy from the daytime heat and could easily be compared to Floridas

humidity. From where they were located, each bungalow was high up, built on stilts and over looked the Amazon rainforest. The place was truly hypnotic.

Starting down the narrow stilted walkway, to the right she noticed the lights from their neighboring hut still on. Their front windows and door were propped wide open and two male figures could clearly be seen from inside. There were only a three bungalow huts in their designated camp site, all connected by a stilted walkway leading to ground level. She glanced to the left where the other hut was located, quiet and unlit. The hut was either unoccupied or the occupants had already dozed to sleep with white noise of crickets and frogs in the background.

The sound of deep masculine laughter and low murmuring voices waffled from the lit hut as she neared to pass their front door. Peering in casually, one man set on the front edge of one bed while another set against the head board, legs crossed at his ankles. Both were glued to the television set, watching something amusing, she assumed.

She didnt really need the flashlight, there was enough moonlight seeping through the canopy over head to semi light the walkway. She griped the banister feeling its smooth wooden texture beneath the pad of her hand. The sound of her tennis shoes made a light rhythmic thud thud against the slanted walkway before quieting as she reached the dirt ground level.

The vending area was bright enough to send out an S.O.S if needed. The low humming of the machines were quiet and barely audible amidst the nights chirping calls and whistles.

Coming up next to the ice machine she placed the plastic bucket shed been holding to the ground, laying the flashlight inside then opened the large top covering the ice bin. A whoosh of crisp cold air melted her heated skin into cool ecstasy and it took her a couple of seconds to remember whyd shed come to the ice maker to begin with, other than for the sudden urge to cool down.

Feels good doesnt it?

Phoebes heart nearly jumped out of her rib cage and that cool air waffling up from untouched ice sent a tattered chill down through her spin and into the depths of her soul. Turning around was probably the worse idea shed ever had.

A sudden darkness creped inside her. A massive blackness as hollow as a cave and as deep as an abyss, tugged at her, pulling her on the inside. A force unseen ripple through her soul and filled it with something wicked and evil, something as black as coal.

It was a woman. Her face was fuzzy, masked by the falling drape of darkness. But the thick British accent lingered as light as a feather in her mind, before another wave of darkness bated any other thoughts from forming.

Phoebe Washington. Its a pleasure to finally meet you.