Stalked by Demons

by Trudi Jaye

  “You need to get out of here,” I call out, without much hope of him listening. He’s just walked into the middle of a bad situation, and he doesn’t even know it.

  “You’re going to be in so much trouble,” he replies.

  “It’s dangerous. You need to leave,” I try again. “Go call the detective from your office.”

  “I’m not stupid. I’m not letting you escape.” He keeps coming toward me. My heart skips a few beats and then does a somersault.

  Behind him, another two demons have turned into the alley between the piles of recycled metal. Is this because I sang? Do demons have a thing for David Bowie? I’ve never seen this many together before. They’re glowing blue, just like the others, and they’re heading toward me. Harold is directly in their path.

  I take a step backward, trying to figure out what the hell to do. I really wish I hadn’t baited Blade earlier. I should’ve asked him nicely like a normal person. Sometimes I just can’t seem to help myself—let alone ask other people for help.

  Even more demons have appeared from somewhere, and there are at least ten of them milling around now, all of them still in their glowing blue form that allows them to glide around like malevolent ghosts. They’re watching me as if I’m a roast chicken, and they’re zoo lions who haven’t eaten in a couple days.

  I have to do something before Harold gets too close. He’s not my favorite person, but I don’t want him to get hurt. My brain is thinking on overdrive, a thousand thoughts going round and round, but none of them useful. What I really want to do is run, but that won’t help. Demons are fast.

  And I can’t leave Harold to his fate, however annoying he might be.

  Taking a deep breath, I walk forward a few paces until I’m standing in front of the first demon. Another deep breath, and I look up into its eyes and glare.

  The demon peers down at my face and then around my body. It seems to be trying to figure me out.

  “I’m a chalice,“ I say loudly. Perhaps I can get it to leave by itself.

  “What?” says Harold. He’s just hung up his cell phone. He’s glaring at me.

  “Harold, just stay where you are,” I say carefully. “I promise I won’t run, if you just stay there.” The demons coming behind him don’t seem to be paying him any attention. They’re all focused on me. If I can get him to stay—

  “You’re not going to trick me like that,” he says, moving forward. He shines his light directly at me and then down at the box on the ground. “Another one? What the heck are you doing?” he says.

  The demon stares at the machine below, now highlighted by the flashlight. For the first time it changes from the hazy blue shape into a more solid form. It’s got metal appliances attached; an old battered oven tray across its chest like armor, copper wire running down its arms in strangely even stripes, and a few pieces of rusted metal that I don’t recognize over the rest of its body. Its eyes remain the same, dark and pitiless, and when it snarls, I see screws instead of teeth.

  The demon lifts one leg and slams its foot down on my newly created demon device. The metal cracks, and the device is broken into a million pieces.

  “Is that a demon, Hazel? Did a demon just destroy your device?” says the Professor behind me, his voice reedy.

  “What was that? Who’s this guy?” says Harold. At least he’s stopped moving toward the demons now.

  I ignore him.

  “Professor, you need to run. Get out of here as fast as you can, and get help.” I say the words through gritted teeth, my eyes never leaving the demon.

  “I can’t leave you here. I won’t do it.”

  “Please, Professor. Just go. Get help. Do it!”

  I hear him hesitate and then turn to go. He runs off toward the hole in the fence.

  The demon stares after him for a moment, then looks back down to me. It seems to be amused.

  “You’re going to regret this,” I say to the demon.

  “You’re going to regret it, you mean,” says Harold. “The detective is on his way.” He takes a step closer, but as he does, a demon swishes past him and knocks him to his knees. He looks around in confusion.

  Ignoring Harold, I concentrate on breathing in and out, trying to get control of my emotions. My throat is dry, but I try to sing something, anything. Nothing but a croak comes out. I can’t make the right sound for the life of me. I’m too scared. What if this is it? What if these demons are going to kill me?

  Another of the demons, still in its glowing form, glides toward me, hovering in the air inches from my face, and it feels as if the coldest, most terrifying creature in the world has me in its sights. It’s whispering inside my head, seductive words just outside my hearing. It’s trying to possess me, just like the little demon did.

  The little demon. Surely it’s inside me somewhere? What will happen to it if this fierce monster possesses me? Probably nothing good. Come on, little demon. Help me.

  A surge of energy pushes its way out from my core, and a tingle of electricity runs along my skin. The large cold demon stumbles away from me as if something burned it.

  The demon stalks back and forth like a hunting cat denied its prey. I try to sing again. I strain against my sandpaper-filled, closed-up throat, trying to force a song out. I sound like a bullfrog trying to mate with a caterpillar.

  The demons are moving toward me again, their expressions almost gleeful. This is it.

  The demons are finally going to get me.

  34

  The little demon inside me is still sending tiny electrical impulses along my skin, but the other demons don’t seem to be bothered by it anymore. They’ve figured out that there are more of them than me. The closest demon breathes hot air over me; brimstone and ash fill my nostrils.

  This is it. I’m—

  A loud scraping crash erupts behind me. Without thinking, I turn my head to see what it is.

  The chain-link fence that surrounds the scrap metal yard being dragged along by a black Jeep. There’s an avenging angel sitting in the front seat.

  Blade.

  The Jeep screeches to a halt just in front of me. He leaps from the vehicle, his knife glinting in the light from the demons. I see him wince as he lands, the only way I can tell that he’s been wounded recently. He must be running on adrenaline if he doesn’t feel more pain.

  The demons see the knife and almost as one, move backward. The first demon opens its mouth and lets out a scream. I hold my hands over my ears, trying to drown out the sound. It’s just like the other night.

  Except then, I screamed back.

  Opening my eyes, I finally start thinking clearly. I might not be able to sing through my fear, but I know I can scream.

  I open my mouth and scream at the top of my lungs, as high a pitch as I can manage. There are moments when I can’t hear the noise coming out of my mouth, it goes so high. The demon freezes, unable to move in the onslaught. My lips feel like they’re going to break apart, but I don’t dare stop. It seems to be working. The demons are backing away, their glow dimmed. Harold is still on his knees in the middle of the alley, but they’re ignoring him. I keep screaming, but I’m starting to sound like that bullfrog again.

  I hear Blade behind me. He’s crawling in my direction, as if against a strong current. Is it the noise? I don’t know. The decision whether to stop is taken out of my hands—I run out of breath and have to let it go so I can take a gasping breath, and then another.

  Blade stands up next to me, breathing hard.

  The first demon holds its ground for a moment longer and then disappears. Once the first demon disappears, the next one looks between Blade’s knife and me, and then disappears as well. The other demons float away into the shadows of the yard again.

  I let out my breath and collapse to the ground. My heart is still pounding and my ragged breaths hurt.

  “Come on, we need to get out of here,” says Blade grimly, dragging me to my feet again. He still looks like an avenging angel—except now I think I
might be in the firing line.

  “Hey,” yells Harold from further down the alley. “You can’t leave.”

  Ignoring Harold, I take a step toward Blade’s Jeep, but Blade tightens his grip on my arm to stop me. He points to the front tires, which both flat from where it ran over the barbed wire fence. “We’ll have to run.”

  “My car, it’s over there,” I say, pointing to my little vehicle on the other side of the fence. It’s not as nice as the Jeep, but it’ll do. Blade takes off at a run, still holding my arm, and I hobble along beside him, trying to keep up.

  We stop to grab my backpack from where the Professor left it and I unzip the front pocket, pulling out my keys. Harold is still shouting at us, but he’s not a fast runner and we get to my car with time to spare, despite me feeling like I’ve just been run over by a truck.

  My car looks exactly the same: small, dented and full of demon hunting paraphernalia. I unlock it and we climb in, Blade taking the wheel without having to be asked. He’d probably have taken the wheel even if I hadn’t wanted him to.

  I collapse back into the seat and let him screech away, putting the pedal to the metal. My poor little Suzuki doesn’t know what hit it. We ride in silence, until eventually I can breathe easily again.

  “Thank yo—”

  “Don’t,” says Blade, his voice tight.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Thank me. What you did back there was reckless and dangerous, and you don’t get to just thank me and have it all be okay again.”

  “What do you want me to say?” I ask, my brain still confused.

  “You need to apologize properly. Tell me you’re sorry that you scared me and made me get up off my sick bed to come save you.”

  I tighten my lips together, and for a moment consider not doing it. He deserves an apology, sure. It’s just the way he’s asking for it. But then I sigh. I’m in the wrong, I know I am. “I’m sorry, Blade.”

  “Say it like you mean it,” he growls.

  “Pardon?”

  “Say it again, and this time say it like you mean it.” His eyes are wild, partially glowing like a cat’s, and his hands are white, they’re clenched so hard onto the steering wheel. Some part of me is thrilled to see him like this. That same part is wondering just how far I could take it before he snaps. He feels like a tightly coiled piece of wire that’s finally coming undone. For some reason, I find this thrilling, rather than frightening.

  Perhaps I’ve gone crazy after all. “I really am sorry, Blade. I’ve been behaving badly,” I say softly. “Old habits die hard, I guess. I’m used to doing this on my own.”

  His shoulders ease slightly, and his hands on the steering wheel return to a normal color. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes on the road.

  “I thought… I don’t know what I thought.” My shoulders slump.

  “That you could handle it, like you’ve always handled it?” he says.

  “I guess so.”

  “Something is happening, things are being amped up around you. I’ve never seen that many demons in one place before.”

  “Me either,” I say, my skin crawling as I remember the menacing glow of demons all around me.

  “Why did you go out there alone?”

  “I wasn’t alone. The Professor was with me.” I trail off as I realize the Professor is probably somewhere trying to find help for me. “I have to give him a call. I told him to go get help.”

  I pull out my cell phone and dial his number. He answers on the first ring.

  “Oh, thank goodness you’re okay,” he says. “I thought… I thought something dreadful had happened to you.”

  “I’m okay. I managed to get out.” I glance at Blade to see if he’s annoyed by me not mentioning that he was the one who saved me, but he’s concentrating on driving.

  “No one would have believed me. The only person I could think of to call was Connor. He said not to worry, that he’d take care of it. Did you see him?”

  I blink. “No. We’re not there anymore. I hope he doesn’t get into trouble looking for me.”

  Blade glances in my direction, as if he’s trying to figure out who I’m talking about.

  “Can you call Connor and let him know I’m fine?” I ask.

  “I will definitely do that, my dear. Can’t mess with the man providing our grant, now can we?” Underlying that jovial comment is a warning, I can feel it.

  “From now on, will you promise me you won’t tell him about our tests, Professor? They’re not all going to go well, and it’s just asking for him to become disgruntled.”

  “I think you might be right, my dear.”

  “I know I am,” I mutter, low enough that the Professor can’t hear me.

  “Goodnight, and have a good weekend. Rest up, and we’ll get back into it on Monday.”

  “Okay, bye.” I press the button on my phone, chewing on my lip thoughtfully. This is all turning into a mess. I don’t want to let the Professor down, and I want to do more research into demons and how to destroy them. But I’m realizing that I can’t do it on my own anymore. It’s too dangerous.

  I glance over at Blade. I need help.

  Specifically from a strong, silent type who likes to carry a large dagger that can destroy demons.

  35

  “How long have you worked for the SIG?” I ask, trying for super casual. We’re walking up the stairs to my apartment in the middle of the night. Again.

  “Most of my life.”

  I blink. “Really?”

  “I was recruited as a child. My father did work that required a cover, so I was recruited in to be his sidekick.”

  “You were a child?” I don’t know why I’m so outraged. Blade seems casual about it.

  “It was fine. I was never in any danger.”

  “You were a child! What did your mother say about it?”

  “My mother died when I was young. It was just my dad and my sister and me.”

  “Oh.”

  “I was young. I never got to know her.” He glances over at me. “You said your parents were killed by demons?”

  I nod, my outrage dissipating into remembered grief. “When I was eighteen.”

  “Losing your parents at that age must have been rough.”

  “Yeah, it was only a few years after my friend Becca was killed as well, so….” I shrug and look down, focusing on my feet as they climb the stairs. “I was there when Becca was killed by a demon, and I was with my parents in the car. They were killed, and I survived.“

  “I’m sorry.”

  “My father spotted a demon heading toward us and veered off the road.”

  “He was a super?” asks Blade, clearly surprised.

  I nod slowly. “This is the part I don’t understand. He must have been a super, right? If he saw the demon?”

  “You need to be a full super, or to have strong super blood in you,” Blade agrees.

  “My father was the one who sent me to the shrink after Becca died. He said he didn’t believe my story about the glowing monster. He didn’t tell me anything about all this.” I wave my hand in the general direction of Blade. “But he saw the demon. He knew. Why did he hide it from me?”

  Blade shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “I don’t know.”

  “Why did he let them tell me I was crazy?” I ask, unable to stop the words tumbling out. “Why did he let them do that to me?” The hurt crawls back inside my heart from some deep corner where it’s been hiding. The pain from years of therapists telling me I’d hallucinated it, of having parents who didn’t believe in me, who thought I was unstable and crazy. The pain of ending up in Ravenwood, drugged up and tied to my bed like a lunatic, being told I’d killed my parents.

  “There’s a chance he was only partially a super. Maybe he’d never seen a demon before that night,” says Blade, almost like he can tell how much I’m hurting.

  I latch onto that explanation like it’s water and I’m dying of thirst. “It’s possible? That
he didn’t know?”

  “I don’t know,” admits Blade.

  “Neither do I,” I whisper. My hands are clenched at my sides, and I force myself to stretch them out, holding my fingers wide.

  We climb the final set of stairs and emerge in the hallway near my door. I fumble with the key in the lock, my fingers shaking too hard to get it to work. Eventually, Blade steps up beside me and gently takes the keys from my shaking hands and opens the door. This is becoming a habit I need to quit. I push my glasses up my nose and stride in through the door.

  “You want coffee?” asks Blade.

  I nod, heading to the sofa. I’m still trying to understand why my father might have hidden all this from me. If he knew, if he did this on purpose, his entire life was a lie. He wasn’t who he said he was. “Why?” I ask out loud.

  “Why should you have a coffee?” says Blade, glancing up from the kitchen where he’s putting the coffee on and pulling cups out of the cupboard.

  “Why did my father live a lie?”

  Blade shrugs. “Supers mostly do. We try to fit into the human world, living among people who for the most part have no idea of the powers we have.”

  “But why didn’t my father tell me I was a super as well? Why did he hide it from me?” The words feel like they’re being wrenched out of my belly, and hot tears roll down my cheeks. The tiny demon shuffles around inside me. I know the demon is making me feel like this, but I can’t make it stop.

  Blade comes over to where I’m sitting and crouches down, his knees touching mine. He puts his hands on my thighs in what I know is supposed to be a comforting touch. Even through my tears, it sends a little thrill up my body. “I don’t know the answer to any of those questions,” he says. “But maybe we can find out? We could do a little background research into your father.”

  I blink, refocusing on his face instead of his hands on my legs. “You can do that?”

  “The SIG can. I’ll ask Damien to do it.”

  “He won’t make me join or anything?”

  “It’s not a cult,” says Blade drily.