Emily Shadowhunter - Book 1: VAMPIRE HUNTER Read online

  Emily Shadowhunter - Book 1: VAMPIRE HUNTER

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 1- WOLFMAN

  Chapter 1 – The Forever Man – Book 1:

  Emily Shadowhunter Book 1: VAMPIRE KILLER

  Chapter 1

  It was not the first time that Emily had flown. In fact it was not even the first time that she had flown First Class. Not that she was from a super- privileged background or anything. Well, she probably was, way back when. She had lived in a Malibu mansion and her parents had been a couple of real international jet setter types.

  So Emily had done a lot of traveling. Not so much with her parents but with her rich friends and, most often, with paid companions. Ski instructors, diving instructors. Even flying instructors.

  That had all stopped when her parents died. When she was eleven years old.

  Her mom and dad had never spent that much face time with her. She used to think that was because they simply weren’t cut out to be hands on parent types. They were high-flyers and international-party-goers, as opposed to bed-time- story tellers and school-play-watchers.

  She had been wrong. There had been nothing that they had wanted more than to tuck her in at night and read her stories about bears that go shopping. Or have family take out night, eat pizza and rent bad horror movies.

  But while some parents are allowed that freedom, others are tied to a higher, selfless purpose.

  After their deaths, Emily had been taken in by a pair of family friends. She had known them the whole of her short life and, whilst she did not see them that often, she liked them both and was happy to go with them.

  Not that there was any choice.

  ‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ the air hostess interrupted her reverie. ‘We’re about to take off. Please could you fasten your seat belt and put your chair in the upright position.’

  Emily nodded, smiled, complied and then let her mind slip back into the past.

  They had never officially fostered Emily and she had never thought of them as mom and dad. But she had felt close to them. As close as they had allowed her to feel, as they often came across more as tutors than as family.

  Bartholomew and Ryoko Johnson. Both were in their mid forties. Ryoko had been born in Japan. She was small, neat and quiet. He was the polar opposite. A big man, in both voice and stature. Long unkempt hair and beard, bright, deep-blue eyes. Muscles like burlap bags stuffed with eels.

  The biggest shock was that she had been moved to Alaska. A pampered Malibu princess, torn from her mild and sunny comfort zone to a state often referred to as ‘The Last Frontier’. The wild land mass where the population density was less than one person per square mile and the temperature was known to drop to minus twenty eight degrees.

  The reason that Bart and Ryoko lived in Alaska was because they were both rabid ‘Preppers’. They preferred to call themselves ‘Survivalists’ but it came down to the same thing – they were thoroughly prepared for the Big One. Whether that took place as a nuclear holocaust, a worldwide viral outbreak or an alien invasion, a good Prepper was ready for anything. With a stout underground bunker, enough dried food and water for two years survival, an armory capable of supplying a full scale private war and all of the necessary skills – Bart and Ryoko were at the top of the game.

  When Emily had asked Bartholomew what he thought was going to go wrong, he laughed out loud and replied – ‘Darling, don’t you know? It’s already happened.’

  She hadn’t bothered to ask him again. ‘Champagne or freshly squeezed orange juice?’

  Asked the hostess, dragging Emily once more from her cogitation.

  Emily thought a bit before she answered. Technically, the American liquor laws stated that she was still underage. But then she was going to England and apparently the legal age for drink there was eighteen. So, after a few seconds of internal debate she decided that she had better get some practice in before she arrived.

  ‘Champagne, please.’

  The golden drink cascaded into her crystal flute, the bubbles rising and spinning and picking up the white of the overhead cabin lights as it did so.

  She took a sip. The effervescence tickled her nose. It was tart and sweet at the same time. Like grape soda that had gone off. She shrugged, took another sip, decided that it was a bit meh and put it down.

  When she had first arrived in Alaska she had made the mistake of thinking of Bart and Ryoko as country hicks. Good solid people who loved the flag, guns and apple pie in equal measure. It didn’t take her long to discover her mistake.

  Bart was actually a professor of philosophy from New York University, he was also an ex- marine and a weapons and tracking expert.

  Ryoko, who had been born in Hinohara outside Tokyo, Japan, was a third dan black belt in Kung Fu and Jiu Jitsu, as well as a being a graduate of Cal Tech in applied mathematics. The Japanese woman was almost the diametric opposite of Emily who was tall, blonde, blue eyed and just curvy enough to attract attention. Ryoko was tiny, dark haired, serious and thin to the point of androgyny.

  Due to the remoteness of the area, Emily had been home schooled by her two foster parents and, as such, had achieved a post-graduate level of education in both mathematics and philosophy by the time she was seventeen. She had also achieved her second level black belt in Kung Fu and her first dan in Jiu Jistu. She could achieve minute-of-angle shooting with a rifle and was a qualified Master Rank with a handgun. She could track a variety of animals through any weather and terrain, live off the land, speak both Latin and ancient Greek and bake a perfect cheese soufflé nine times out of ten.

  However, she was guilty of biting her nails and tended to stand with a bit of a stoop, almost as if she were embarrassed at her slightly above average height.

  But then she never claimed to be perfect. In fact, Emily never claimed to be anything. She had no yardstick against which to measure herself. And her infrequent visits to Anchorage did not allow her any time for either socializing or comparing herself to others.

  In fact, Emily would have considered herself to be pretty normal.

  Until she turned eighteen. Only yesterday.

  Already it seemed so long ago…

  …Bart woke her even earlier than was usual in the Johnson household. A knock on the door, a cup of coffee, a brisk Happy Birthday darling and a request to join him and Ryoko in the kitchen as soon as she was ready.

  She showered and changed into her usual two- piece black kung fu suit and canvas shoes. Comfortable, practical clothing. Neither Ryoko nor Bart believed in frivolous fashion and, truth be told, Emily did hanker after a wardrobe full of girly clothes. Designer outfits, branded jeans and shoes worn for looks rather than practicality.

  She walked into the kitchen a
nd both of her foster parents where there, waiting for her. Bart gave her a hug and then Ryoko did the same but she held on to Emily for a good minute, which was unusual as she wasn’t normally a demonstrative person at all.

  Finally she stood back and handed Emily a small box that she had tied with a ribbon. Emily opened it to reveal a silver necklace. The chain made up of three delicate strands that had been plaited together. Hanging from it, a carved Japanese symbol in jade. She slid it over her head.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said appreciatively. ‘Thank you.’

  Ryoko smiled at her. ‘It has been in our family for over one thousand years. Passed down from mother to daughter in an unbroken line.’

  Emily held up the jade symbol. ‘What does this say?’

  ‘It is hard to translate into the western tongue,’ the small Japanese woman answered. ‘But if one had to try, I suppose one could say – “The Brightest Flame Casts the Deepest Shadow”. It is all about Ying and Yang. Those of us who are capable of the best of deeds are also capable of the darkest. It is both a message of warning and an amulet of protection against the darkness. Wear it always.’

  ‘I will,’ Emily responded.

  ‘Right, my girl,’ interjected Bart. ‘Look, there’s something that we have to tell you.’ He looked pensive when he spoke. Unsure of himself. Which was an expression that Emily had never seen before on the big man’s face. There was a long awkward silence and then eventually he said.

  ‘You know what; it’s easier to simply show you. Come on, let’s go to the dojo.’

  The three of them traipsed through the house and into the dojo, a large open room with sprung wooden floors and a series of punch bags and makiwara punching boards along the one wall.

  Bart grabbed two blocks of wood and laid them down next to each other, then he placed a concrete roof tile across them.

  Emily knew what that was for. She had practiced her knife-hand strike until she was capable of breaking a roof tile with her bare hand. Once she had managed to break two. Only once.

  But Bart continued to pile more tiles on. Two. Three. Four, five. Ten.

  Then he stopped.

  ‘Break them,’ he instructed.

  Emily shook her head. ‘No way.’

  ‘Way,’ urged Bart. ‘Trust me, my girl. You can do it.’

  Emily glanced at Ryoko for support but the petite Asian woman simply nodded her agreement and pointed at the vast mountain of tiles. ‘You can do it,’ she repeated. ‘See it happening. Envisage it. And then make it happen.’

  Emily didn’t want to disappoint her foster parents so she stepped forward, stood in front of the ludicrously high pile of concrete, composed herself and struck.

  The tiles simply exploded. Every one broke into at least five pieces.

  Emily squealed in shock and jumped backwards like she had been bitten.

  Both Bart and Ryoko smiled.

  But their smiles were tinged with another expression. Acceptance. And perhaps sadness.

  Emily didn’t notice, such was her shock at what she had just achieved.

  ‘Umm…there’s more,’ said Bart, almost apologetically. ‘Come,’ he led Emily to the window. ‘Can you see that? Nailed to the tree over there on the horizon.’ He pointed at an A4 piece of paper, nailed to a tree some one thousand and seventy two yards away. Bart knew the exact distance because he had paced it out that morning.

  Emily nodded. ‘Yep. Just.’

  ‘How far away is it?’

  Emily shrugged. ‘About half a mile.’

  ‘No. Exactly how far?’

  The teenage girl concentrated. ‘One thousand and seventy two yards and four inches...damn. How did I do that?’

  Again Bart and Ryoko smiled. ‘Read what it says,’ asked Ryoko.

  ‘Oh come on. Really?’

  Ryoko nodded.

  Again Emily stared and concentrated, squinting her eyes up in an attempt to focus.

  ‘Don’t squint,’ said Bart. ‘No need. Trust me.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Emily. ‘It says, name Pi to as many decimal places as you can.’

  As an accomplished mathematician Emily knew that Pi was a mathematical constant. It was the ratio of a circles circumference to its radius. It is also known as an irrational number, meaning that it is infinite.

  She started to reel off the numbers.

  ‘ 3.14159265358979323846264338327950288419716939937510...’

  ‘Enough,’ said Bart. ‘Could you do that yesterday?’

  ‘You know that I couldn’t. What the hell has happened to me?’ Asked Emily, her voice verging on panic.

  ‘Come on,’ said Bart softly. ‘Let’s go back to the kitchen, get some breakfast. There’s a lot that we need to talk about.’

  And then, over pancakes and bacon, Bart and Ryoko changed Emily’s life utterly and completely.

  ‘It all started over two thousand years ago, around five hundred BC,’ said Bart. ‘When a young Greek man named Ambrogio, traveled to the Delphic Oracle in order to have his fortune told. When he arrived at the temple he saw, and fell in love with, a young priestess named Selene. She returned his feelings. However, Selene was also a favorite of the god Apollo and he was so jealous that, in a fit of rage, he cursed Ambrogio. He decreed that the very touch of the sun would burn him and also that the slightest feel of silver would bring him unbearable pain. On top of this he also cursed him with immortality so that he would be

  forced to watch his love, Selene, age and die.’

  ‘Whoa,’ interjected Emily. ‘Harsh much? I mean, give the guy a break, surely Apollo could get any girl that he wanted? He must have been like the Chris Hemsworth of his day, why the big deal over Selene?’

  Bart raised an eyebrow. ‘Who knows how gods think? To the best of my knowledge I have always found them to be both spoiled and capricious beings. Like toddlers with untold power. Best not to offend them. Anyway, Emily, pay attention, this is no fable being told for your amusement, this is a very important.’

  ‘Hold on,’ blurted Emily. ‘You have always found them? What do you mean?’

  But Bart ignored her question and continued. ‘After many years, Artemis, the goddess of hunting who was oft an antagonist of Apollo, took pity on Ambrogio as he wandered, both lonely and alone, and so she gifted him with great hunting skills. These included sharp claws, incredible speed, large fangs as well as the ability to shapeshift into other animals at will.

  She also gifted him with the knowledge that if he mixed his saliva with another’s blood through biting them, he could pass on his immortality and his gifts - although that person would not always be compatible so they might actually die instead. However it was too late to save Selene who was already on her death bed due to old age.

  Ambrogio became embittered at the loss of his love and stalked the land, killing and changing people at random. Particularly young women. Over time, he and his house grew very powerful and he spread a reign of terror throughout the land.

  The ancient Greeks called Ambrogio and his people, The Shadow People. Or People of the Shades. Nowadays we would call them, Vampires.’

  ‘Vampires?’ Asked Emily, her disbelief written plainly on her face.

  Both Ryoko and Bart nodded in agreement and Emily could see that this was no practical joke. They were deadly serious.

  ‘Now,’ continued the big man. ‘Around 300BC Aristotle and Plato started an academy called The Olympus Foundation. From the very best philosophers and warriors of the time they put together a team to hunt down and destroy these Shadow People and their organizations before they literally usurped mankind. Over the next few centuries this ultra-secret society became more and more of a closed clique as the members were encouraged to marry amongst themselves in order to create a group of super-humans, selectively bred to enhance their inherent and learned powers.

  These people are called Shadowhunters. Your parents were both members of this elite group. In fact they both come from the line of one of the original Shadowhunter couple
s. An unbroken line that stretches back over two thousand years.

  And now that you have reached your eighteenth birthday, your birthright has manifested. Emily, you are a Shadowhunter.’

  The teenager shook her head. It was too much to process. She didn’t want to believe it. And, in point of fact, if she hadn’t just demonstrably proven that something weird had happened to her, she would have simply put her head in the sand and refused to take part.

  However, she couldn’t deny that she could read a typewritten message on a tree over half a mile away. Or that she could now recite Pi to over a thousand places. Or that she had easily reduced a two foot high pile of concrete slabs to rubble with a single strike of her bare hand.

  But vampires? Shadowhunters? Seriously? Both Ryoko and Bart were staring at her, waiting for a reaction.

  ‘No shit,’ she said. ‘Do I get some sort of superhero outfit? You know, Spandex body stocking, PVC boots and a polyester cloak.’

  Bart laughed. ‘Nah, doesn’t work like that. Would be cool though.’

  Strangely enough, Ryoko smiled but also started to cry at the same time, tears rolled silently down her cheeks. ‘There’s more,’ she said, but she couldn’t continue as she buried her head in her hands.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Emily asked Bart. ‘Why’s Ryoko crying?’

  ‘Look, Emily, my darling. We have known that this day would arrive but, well, I suppose that, whatever you know, you can never adequately prepare for it. You see, Emily, in this world of ours the Shadowhunters are pretty much all that stands between humanity and the darkness. They are what protect us all from the rising of the Shadow. They alone are equipped to fight the vilest of evils. And although that includes vampires it also encompasses much more. Ghouls, demons, black-witches. For evil is legion and we are but few. As such, your life is no longer your own. As from today your major reason for existence is to combat the Shadows. To rid the world of evil. To be a Shadowhunter.’

  ‘So? That doesn’t explain why Ryoko is so upset.’

  ‘Emily, now that you have come of age and your powers are starting to show, you need to be trained. And we are not qualified to show you what you are capable of. We have done the best that we can but the furthering of your training must now take place elsewhere.’