Read Broken Angel (Book 1 in the Chronicles of a Supernatural Huntsman series) Page 4


  I returned home from Don Vander’s with more questions than I had answers to. When I told him I believed his insane theories about Danny’s killer being something not of this world, I expected him to tell me everything. I expected the training of destroying monsters to start immediately. Instead, he told me to meet him at Union Station in downtown Chicago in three days with a bag packed.

  That was it.

  It didn’t leave me much time to figure out how to tell Cara I was leaving for an indeterminate amount of time and for somewhere I did not know. I spent all of the next day packing and repacking my small duffel bag with what I deemed essential items—toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, two pairs of jeans, three different t-shirts, two pairs of socks, four pairs of underwear and bras, a pen, a small notebook, my phone and charger, a book to read, and what little make-up I had, which consisted of eye liner, mascara, and tinted Chapstick.

  With the limited items I had chosen for the mysterious journey, I thought I would be done packing in a matter of minutes. But once I had everything in just right, I took it all out again and started over. The first time, I removed the book because I didn’t want to come off as going into the trip already bored. Another time, I had seven bras because I wasn’t sure if I would be able to get to a laundromat. Finally, by ten o’clock on the first of the three nights, I was completely satisfied with everything the way it’d been the first time I packed it.

  My body felt exhausted. I was sure when my head hit the pillow I would be out, hopefully in a dreamless sleep. I closed my eyes and turned onto my side.

  Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed, like a presence was there that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t the eerie feeling I got when the death-like figure showed up—this was warm and sweet, like when Danny used to throw his arms around my legs and tell me he loved me. Was I feeling my son’s spirit? The thought kept me awake for most of the night.

  The entire second day, I carefully avoided Cara so I could figure out how to tell her I was leaving. It wasn’t hard to do. She worked a double shift at the restaurant. When she told me on her way out the door I sighed with relief. That gave me plenty of time to get my wording perfect.

  The minute she left, I grabbed a blank notebook from my dad’s old office and set to work on my goodbye speech. It was harder than I thought. How would I begin—as a sad occasion? A happy and hopeful one? That it was a trip I may never return from and it could possibly be the last time we see each other? After I crumpled the twelfth piece of paper and threw it on the coffee table, I decided there was no way I could sugarcoat it to sound sane. What I was doing was insane.

  I tore out one last sheet of paper and scribbled a few lines in the middle

  Cara,

  I’m leaving town with a man I met a few days ago to train to hunt and destroy supernatural beings in the hopes of getting revenge on the demon that murdered Danny. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. All I know is I’m going by train. Please don’t worry. I love you.

  Kamlyn