Demons at deadnight 2011, p.13
Demons at Deadnight (2011), page 13
Using the feather like a knife, I stepped close and slashed. And slashed again. And again. A deranged psycho off her meds. Gashes opened like bleeding wounds dripping angry orange and silver, but nothing big enough to get my body through.
I licked my lips, took a deep breath, plunged the feather into the light, locked my elbow and spun, dragging the feather. It cut through the shimmering bubble like lasers on a paper cup. When the opening expanded enough, I dived through to freedom.
The buzzing turned high-pitched. A squeal of annoyance? I scrambled to my feet gripping the feather in my outstretched hand, shaking just short of an epileptic fit.
The sphere flared bright purple, blue, silver, then shifted into smoky swirls that sculpted into a blue humanoid shape pulsing with spider webs of electricity. It resembled one of those transparent human body models in biology class. But with a Frankenstein flare.
“Not bad, little Nex,” its voice sizzled. “But—”
“Aurora, get down!”
I dropped.
Even behind closed lids a light blazed against my retinas. A blast of searing heat blew my hair over my head. Like prickly cactus, a zap of electricity glanced off my shoulder. Then darkness. Silence. I peeked from a crouched position. The demon was gone.
I stood. Felt weak. No. A complete Gumby. I crumpled toward the ground, all those lovely shards of glass ready to slice me up. Hope Dad knew a good plastic surgeon. Just before impact, gravity derailed from its usual routine and lifted me up. I felt arms under my shoulders and legs and saw gravity had a name. Ayden.
“Gotcha,” he said, jacket cool against my flaming cheek as he carried me toward home.
I would’ve linked my fingers around his neck if they’d stop twitching. He stopped in front of Tristan’s house.
“Are you hurt? Should I get your Dad? Take you to the hospital?”
I shook my head. “Nothing serious. Just give me a minute.” I crooked my elbow a few times to get rid of the muscle tingling and smacked myself in the head when it twitched. “Ow. You can put me down.”
“Sure?”
When my feet touched the ground, my legs buckled. “Maybe not.”
Ayden folded me against his chest and sighed, one hand brushing curls from my face with a lingering touch. Eyelids heavy under thick lashes, his irises lightened to warm amber. If my arms worked I would’ve snaked them around his neck. Instead I laid my cheek on his shoulder and relaxed, hearing the drumming beat of his heart helped steady my own. I was so tired. He was so warm, solid, secure.
His chin rested on top of my head as he stroked my hair.
“It’s alright,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“She okay?”
Ayden jerked away, dropping his hands. And me.
My legs folded.
“What’re you doing?” Tristan rushed to my side and scrutinized Ayden who started toward me a few times but hesitated, confused.
Ayden ran fingers through his hair and retreated.
“I don’t know.” He sanded his hands together, cleared his throat. “I, uh, thought she could stand. Sorry.”
Tristan glanced between us, brow creased.
“Help me up.”
Tristan did. I hardly teetered.
“What attacked you?”
Ayden and I shot Tristan surprised looks.
“Nothing,” I said. “My cat ran off, I was chasing him—”
“What freaked you out?”
“Tristan, what’re you doing?” Ayden said.
“Changed my mind. She’s safer with the facts. What were you running from, Aurora?”
“Your sparkling personality?” I put hands on hips, felt steady, normal. “Jeez, back off.”
Like a mini-firework, a glittering orb of pale purple burst above Tristan’s head. From the sparkling puff, a lavender fairy materialized and flitted in spastic figure-eights, dust flying, tiny wings humming a nervous beat. “Her dad’s coming,” she said, voice shrill.
“What?” we all said in unison.
Tristan, Ayden and the fairy looked at me and said, “What?”
“What?” I repeated, panicked and irritated at my lack of control in responding to a fairy I wasn’t supposed to see or hear.
“What?” came their reply.
“What?” I continued the theme of repetition because I lacked any form of explanation.
Ayden held up a hand for silence. “Why are you ‘whatting’?”
“What?”
The hand again. “Okay, stop that,” Ayden said. Tristan smirked. “Why did you just say ‘what’?”
“Beeeecaaause,” I stalled. “I want to knoooooow,” pause, “whaaaaaat,” another pause, “you thought I saw?” The last came out in a rush as I finally thought of a sensible thing to say.
“Aurora, dinner!” Dad called from the garage. He saw our group and headed our way before I could stop him. “Oh, hi, Tristan.”
Super. “Nothing about the…thing,” I whispered.
Dad shook Tristan’s hand and Ayden offered his. “Hi, Mr. Lahey. I’m Ayden Ishida. You probably don’t remember me.”
Dad took his hand. “Of course I do. You’re one of Aurora’s old boyfriends.”
Oh, just tie on the anchor and throw me overboard.
To his credit, Dad quickly discerned my embarrassment and did his best.
“Well, not boyfriend-boyfriend.” He twirled his hands in a backward rotation like he could erase his error in word choice and my mortification. “You know, just a friend. Just an old friend.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “So what’re you guys up to?”
“Well, Sir,” Ayden said. “Aurora’s cat ran away. We’re helping find him.”
Tristan nodded. “This late at night, you’ve got to before an owl or coyote does.”
I almost laughed. If Helsing could scare off a Kalifera, local wildlife held no threat.
“I’ll get everybody to help.” Dad headed toward the house.
“No, Dad.”
He stopped.
“The guys are going to drive me around. You stay here in case he shows.”
I could tell he was going to protest, but Ayden jumped in, “We know the area. We’re good at finding rogue creatures and,” he held up two fingers, “we promise to keep her safe.”
Dad glanced at me. I nodded. His smile at Ayden seemed a tad…frosty.
“I’ll hold you to that, son.” Then his sunshine smile melted the chill and he smothered me with a hug before jogging off saying, “If you’re not home in an hour, call and let me know what’s up.”
I narrowed a look at the boys who were both giving Dad wary stares.
“Ready for that pow-wow, chitchat, conversation, get to know each other?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“How can you protect me?”
“Why do you need protection?”
“Demons are trying to kill me.”
“Why? Because you’re annoying?”
“They’re demons. That’s what they do.”
“And you’re annoying.”
“No more than you.” I paced the game room in oversized killer whale slippers provided by Jayden since I lacked shoes when they’d whisked me to the Ishida house.
I sighed. Matthias and I had been riding this merry-go-round for a while. I’d kept my promise. I was with the Hex Boys. Gloria had been so vague I was afraid of saying the wrong thing, but I’d fessed up about seeing demons and asked for help. I’d even admitted to hiding in the secret room, listening in on their conversation. Matthias turned colors of purple and red I didn’t think possible. Blood vessels audibly popped.
They claimed they could help keep me alive and wanted me to answer questions, but Matthias wouldn’t answer any of mine, like who they were, how they could protect me, and how they could get rid of the demons. I still worried about getting “neutralized.” Maybe Gloria was wrong about them.
Granted, I couldn’t fault their suspicion. The maid story wasn’t flying. At least now I knew why. Thanks Gloria. It didn’t help the security cameras malfunctioned when I’d walked up onto the porch. Coincidence? They thought not. But since Matthias couldn’t bring himself to believe I was some sort of electronic whiz kid, he let it go. For now.
Gloria made me promise to deal with these guys, but we were off to rowboat-in-a-hurricane level rocky start. A headache crouched behind my eyes, my brilliant meeting plan going nowhere.
“I want to go home.”
“Not until you tell us—”
“I’m not telling you anything, Australia.”
Matthias’ eyes glinted metallic. Dangerous. The room felt smaller. The air heavier.
“Your heartbeat is accelerated,” Jayden said. “Irrational fear. Have some water.”
Panicked, I slapped the glass to the floor. When some liquid splattered my face I scrubbed it off in a frenzy.
“Right. So I can wake up tomorrow on a cargo ship to Singapore and my new life as a sex slave in a perpetual drug haze so I don’t have enough where-with-all to end my misery by killing myself? I don’t think so.”
I stormed for the door, but Blake was faster than he looked.
He leaned against it, palms up in supplication, but blocking my escape nonetheless. “What exactly is where-with-all?”
I backed up, spun a few circles, paranoia closed my throat. They looked at me like I was nuts. Other than Blake, none of them had moved.
“Sex slave operation?” Matthias dropped his head back.
“It’s typical for drug cartels.” I was weighing my chances of making it to the weapons wall when they all burst out laughing.
***
“Demon hunters?” The tea tasted like dirt. From a sewer. And smelled even worse. But Jayden assured me it calmed the nerves. And was drug free. I sat on a couch alone, hugging a pillow, the mug resting on my knee. “Well it sounded like drug dealers.”
“Maybe to a moron.”
Matthias shook his head, refilling his glass with chocolate milk from a green can. I bit my tongue, trying to take the high road.
I hadn’t noticed the climbing wall built into the weapons wall until Jayden did his Spider-Man routine. When he reached the top he gripped the first of a series of rings bolted across the vaulted ceiling, swinging from ring to ring until he was above the middle of the room. There he released into a double back-flip from nearly twenty feet up, landing silently on his bare feet.
“In retrospect, the verbiage was open to misinterpretation.”
“Yeah,” Matthias huffed. “To a moron.”
“You were the ones talking about cartels, neutralizing threats, turf wars in Columbia, Asian operations, buying product in Germany.”
Ayden leaned against the massive stone fireplace where they probably roasted whole elk on a spit. I felt the blazing heat halfway across the room. “This demon thing is sort of a family business but our folks are…semi-retired. Mostly, my dad imports exotic cars. He’s in Germany this trip. That’s his ‘product.’”
“Why didn’t he say cars?”
Ayden shrugged. “It’s…Jayden.”
Jayden nodded. “Many of the drug cartels in Columbia are backed by demons, but we’re fighting against them, not with them. And Matthias’ dad always visits the Asian operations when he goes to Australia to see—”
A low snarl erupted from Matthias. “Enough.”
Blake and Logan arrived with a tray full of sandwiches. Blake gave me a wink. “Stay away from the salami. I dosed it pretty heavy with knock-out potion.”
“Hardy-har-har.” I put down the tea before it made me gag, again, and made a big deal out of grabbing a salami sandwich, taking a huge bite and talking with my mouth full. “It sounded like drug dealers. Gee, don’t know why I didn’t think of demon hunters right off the bat.”
“Did I mention the moron theory?” Matthias deadpanned.
I sugared my smile. “Yet this ‘moron’ ditched you outside the flower shop.” The high road was overrated.
A few snickers and Blake said, “She’s got a point.”
Matthias’ lip twitched a sneer. They all scattered about the room, munching sandwiches, except Logan who was on the balcony railing again acting like a gold medal gymnast on a balance beam. It made me nervous, but no one else seemed bothered.
“Demon hunters.” They’d said it several times. A secret society of demon hunters. Although my world was warped in an odd and wacky shape, I still had a hard time wrapping my mind around it. But I was being hunted by demons, and Gloria seemed to have me and my family’s best interests at heart, and she’d protect them if I trusted these guys, so I would but…
“A bunch of kids who still live with their parents?”
“Joan of Arc was only seventeen when she saved France,” Jayden pointed out. “And several kings and queens were younger than we are now. I could provide a whole list of teenagers throughout history—”
“I get it. Do you work for the Vatican or something?”
“Not exclusively,” Jayden said. “The society, the Mandatum, works with all faiths. Demons are unconcerned with an individual’s religion or lack of one. They’re equal opportunity destroyers. Our hunters come from a diversified set of beliefs, but work together toward one goal. And we’re the best at what we do.”
“But you guys were at the church.”
Jayden shrugged. “Father Bancroft is an area leader, so the church is our base, but elsewhere it could be a synagogue, mosque, Buddhist temple. Any holy place will do. We fight demons, not each other.”
“How do you fight them? Ayden, what did you do to the demon tonight?”
They shared wary looks.
“We’ll get to that later,” Matthias said.
“But you can trust we’re capable of protecting you,” Jayden added. “How long have you seen demons?”
I pushed curls off my face. “Seven, eight years, but none of them have been dangerous before. I mean what’s with Gossamer Falls? Is it a breeding ground for demonic super fiends?”
“It’s a portal location.”
“Jayden!” Matthias seethed.
“Portal?”
“Between earth and hell.”
“Blake!” Matthias threw up his hands. “Would you guys shut up!”
“Oh, come on.” Ayden rose from his chair. “Who’s she gonna tell?”
“Not the point,” the Aussie grumbled and took a swig of his chocolate milk.
Ayden stood in front of me. I wanted to back up but that’d be wimpy.
“You said the demons haven’t threatened you before.”
I nodded.
“Are you sure?” He glanced at my shoulder and raised an eyebrow. His back was to the rest of them so only I could see.
I wanted to drop my gaze, but he pinned my eyes like the latest addition to his bug collection. I remembered his fingers on my skin, gliding over my scars. Blood crept into my face. I started to speak but had to clear my throat to get my voice in gear.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“If you’re referring to the attack prompting her family’s move out of the city and back here to Gossamer Falls,” Jayden said. “That was reported as a human assault.”
Ayden’s shoulders dropped and he gave me an apologetic look. His lips pressed together before he spoke. “Thanks, Jayden.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Who attacked you?” Logan straddled the railing.
All eyes were on me. Yippee.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it.” Ayden kept his back to the group.
Matthias’ voice lacked sympathy. “Could be relevant.”
“I can quote the report,” Jayden offered. “Severe head trauma, multiple contusions, lacerations, massive internal bleeding, a series of breaks and fractures including—”
“I’d like to hear it from the victim,” Matthias said.
I gritted my teeth at “victim,” and saw Ayden gear up for an argument so I stepped around to face them.
“It’s nothing weird. I was on a college visit with my class. Big excitement because we were staying overnight. We ended up at a frat party. It was fine at first, but as the night wore on there was lots of… stuff going on. So I left. On the way back, some kids started hassling me. They…” I emptied my chest of air and stared at the killer whale slippers, wiggling my toes.
Ayden stepped close and squeezed my shoulders. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered.
I smiled and lifted my chin, swallowing hard so tears wouldn’t leak out. “They beat the crap out of me. No idea why. They were drunk, they were bored.” I shrugged. “Who knows? I went unconscious in the middle of it. Woke up in the hospital. And that’s that. No demons, just stupid people.” I looked at Matthias. “Bullies.” A slight tightening around his eyes was all I got.
“Some of them were your friends from school,” Jayden said into the silence.
“Yeah. They claimed they didn’t remember anything.”
“Were you drunk?”
“Matthias!”
“I’m just asking.”
I stared daggers at the Aussie.
“No alcohol or drugs,” Jayden said. “Law enforcement did a blood test. It was in the report.”
Matthias nodded and shrugged. “Demonic possession would explain the memory loss.”
“It wasn’t,” I said.
Jayden folded his arms. “You can’t know that, Aurora.”
“Sure I can. When people are possessed, I see the demon, not the person.”
Silence.
My skin prickled. “Can’t you guys do that?”
Head shakes around the room. Great.
A soft buzzing preceded a disembodied woman’s voice so breathy she sounded like she should be working for a phone-sex hotline. “Madame Cacciatori. Paris.”
Someone yelled, “Hide her!” A split second later I flew through the air.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Between the thump on the floor and Ayden ending up on top of me after he launched us both over the couch, the wind jettisoned from my lungs.
Ayden clamped a hand over my mouth and a finger to his lips. I nodded and his palm eased off. I squirmed because the hardwood floors really lived up to their name and Ayden’s muscular physique wasn’t feather-light. He squinted me a questioning look and despite the volatile moment, or because of it, heat flared between us.
