Building up to Christmas with Dusty the Demon Hunter - A Blast from the Past - Flights of Fantasy Part 1

Dusty the Demon Hunter has had a few adventures that she decided to share with me - seven in all (so far) and this is the second one, hot on the heels of Dream Lover, came Flights of Fantasy.

This is the updated book cover. My wonderful best friend, Anna posed for these pics.

This was the original cover

Images of the book covers are mine, all others are from Google's Free for use image search unless the source is stated.

As ever, I have so many stories rolling around in my head, I can't recall every detail, so you'll just have to read it with me.

Enjoy!

Flights of Fantasy

It was growing dark as Dusty rode home. She had been out for a final diagnostic spin on her Ducati before she stripped it down and serviced it.

She listened to the engine purring and thought to herself that she was right to be thinking of taking it off the road for a little while at least. The engine didn’t sound as smooth as it could and there was a funny noise she could hear under the rumble of the V Twin engine.

It could be the cam belts and if she didn’t catch them before they wore out, it could be costly – and possibly dangerous.

Dusty was pleased with her diagnosis and she opened up the throttle and snaked around the familiar bends on the road.

The motorcycle’s handling, though it was in need of a service, was responsive and smooth enough as they leaned into the bends and corners, girl and bike as one.

On one of the last bends, Dusty was leaning right over, almost flat to the tank; knees pulled in so as not to scrape them on the ground when out of the corner of her eye, a dark shape emerged from the hedgerows and flew right at her headlight.

If she had braked hard like her instincts told her, she would have been thrown out of control and off the bike. At the speed she was travelling, it would have been at best a disaster for possibly her and the bike both, but her Demon blood sang in her veins and she dropped yet lower to the tank, hugging it almost, and the thing flew over her back, brushing her leathers as it went so she knew exactly how close a call she had just had.

She decided that the narrow escape was too much for one night and if she had not already have been on her way home, the scare would have changed her route for her.

She went straight back to the house and parked the Ducati outside whilst she let herself into the house to tell her grandparents that she was back, safe and sound. Then she opened the door to the garage – her garage – and parked the bike in its usual place.

She listened to the quiet ‘ting-ting’ sounds as the hot metal cooled and she smiled. Then she released the chinstrap of her helmet and lifted it from her head. She shook out her short dark hair and ruffled the fingers of one hand through it.

Dusty turned in surprise as she sensed someone behind her in the garage. It didn’t feel like either of her grandparents and she was alert and ready for conflict. Her knees were bent, not locked straight and she protected her jaw with her shoulder so that a blow from either side would catch her upper body rather than her vulnerable chin. She wielded the helmet like a weapon.

“Woah, take it easy, Dusty. I’m sorry to drop in unannounced, but it seems that if I let you know I’m coming over, you aren’t here when I do.” Hunter said. He had his hands up in a manner that said he wanted no trouble and she smiled when she realised who her visitor was.

She relaxed and went to hug him but before she could, he frowned and reached over her shoulder to pluck something from the flexible joint in the shoulder of her leather jacket.

She was puzzled too and as he looked at the object, she saw that it was a slick, black feather but it was far larger than a crow or raven’s feather and it gleamed with an oily sheen. Dusty grimaced and refused to take it when he offered it to her.

She shook her head and the corners of her mouth turned down.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a feather,” he said in a tone that made it clear that he thought she should have known what it was.

“You’re not funny,” she said, but she smiled at his sarcastic humour.

Then she reached out and took it from his fingers. It felt greasy to her touch, just as she had imagined it would. She held it in her fingertips as though she wanted the least physical contact with it as she could manage.

When she had studied it, she looked up at Hunter again and held it out to him. It was his turn to refuse to take it and he wiped his hands on his jeans.

“No thanks, it’s yours, you keep it,” he said. “Actually, no, I suggest you get rid of it.” He gave an involuntary shudder and Dusty was surprised, she didn’t think anything could get to Hunter, but this had – a feather for goodness’ sake!

She looked at it again with renewed curiosity. “What is it?”

“I think it’s a feather...” Hunter began.

Dusty was about to reprimand him for the repeat of his lame joke but she realised why he hadn’t continued with his explanation. Dusty’s grandparents had come into the garage and he hadn’t known whether to carry on or not so he’d shut up.

“Hello Hunter,” Ben, Dusty’s grandad said.

“Hello Ben,” Hunter said and nodded a greeting to Dusty’s grandmother who stood just behind her husband. “Hello Colleen,” he said.

“Please tell us what the feather is, Hunter.” Ben prompted and he reached over his granddaughter’s shoulder to take it from her. He studied it closely, turning it over in front of his eyes.

Hunter scrutinised Dusty’s grandparents’ faces for a moment and then he nodded once before he told them. “I think it’s the feather of a Strix.”

Dusty scowled again and Hunter could see the family resemblance as Ben and Colleen frowned too. Dusty seemed to favour her grandfather’s side of the family where that frown was concerned but the eyes were passed down from her mother he assumed because Dusty’s were the exact image of Colleen’s.

“Strix? What’s that?” Dusty asked.

“Come inside, I think this is going to take a while.” Colleen said.

When they were seated in the cosy kitchen, Colleen began to busy herself making drinks and snacks for them and it was only when she had served the pot of tea and mugs of hot chocolate that she sat down and the conversation about the mysterious bird began again.

Ben nodded to Hunter and he began talking in a hesitant and reluctant manner at first but soon realised that he really had no choice and took to his tale quite well.

“A Strix looks very much like a large owl in appearance, but one with black feathers. I’ve only ever seen one feather apart from this one that I took from your jacket, Dusty,” Hunter said, he didn’t touch the feather again, he just indicated towards it lying on a plate on the table.

“But it was the same oily texture that makes you turn your nose up at the very thought of it. The birds are harbingers of war and civil strife and the sudden appearance of one close to you makes me very uneasy.”

“War and civil strife? That sounds serious, Grandad.” Dusty said, looking to the older man for his take on Hunter’s story.

“Hunter isn’t telling you the whole history.” Ben said to his granddaughter. He didn’t sound annoyed, he was a patient man and understood why Hunter would be holding some of the facts back.

“They are birds that are associated with the Vampire, Witch and Harpy and the fact that it tried to cause an accident would suggest to me that you are about to come into contact with something that’s not going to be easy to deal with. I think we’d better do some extensive research on the matter, Colleen. Dusty, I wonder if you’d do me a favour?”

Dusty nodded at once that she would.

“Keep this with you, for the time being at least.” Ben leaned back in his chair and opened a drawer in the Welsh dresser behind him, he rifled through the contents and then handed her something. He held his clenched fist above her hand and when he had dropped the object into her hand, he nodded and left the room.