by Trudi Jaye
“I won’t cancel the grant, but I have a few conditions,” he says with his 1000-watt smile.
I hesitate. “What conditions?”
Connor abruptly stands and comes around his desk. He moves closer to me and puts his hands in his pockets. It looks like a casual stance, but he exudes tension.
“What are your conditions, Connor?” I ask. My hand clenches inside my jacket pocket, and the pins and needles spread into my shoulder and torso. The little demon inside me is starting to zing around like it’s a rocket ship.
“For one, you have to stay on the project,” he says. “It’s no good without your particular set of… skills.”
“That’s fine,” I say. It’s not like I want to go anywhere else anyway. And if I do leave, I’ll buy myself a new identity, so he won’t be able to find me.
“And then there’s the problem of the SIG agent sniffing around you.”
My eyes widen. “You know about the SIG?”
Connor spreads his arms wide. “I make it my business to know everything about people I’m in business with.” His eyes sharpen on me. “Especially those people who intrigue me.”
A shiver sneaks down my spine, and for the first time since meeting Connor, it’s not because I find him devastatingly attractive.
“What about him?” I ask.
“You must promise to keep your work secret from the SIG agent. If I hear that he knows about it, the deal is off… and I’ll tell the SIG your little secret.”
My blood pounds inside my veins. “My… secret?”
Connor is looking at me, his eyes much sharper than I’ve ever seen them. “You’re an escaped patient from the Ravenwood Institute for the Criminally Insane, Hazel… Miller.”
All the breath leaves my body. He knows my real name. He knows about Ravenwood. I feel dizzy, and this time it’s nothing to do with the other strange physical issues I’ve been having. “How…?”
“Like I said. I like to have information on the people I’m working with. If you want to avoid spending the rest of your life in Ravenwood, drugged up and blamed for the murder of your parents, I suggest you agree to my conditions. All you have to do is tell no one about our research, and then when it’s done… hand the prototype over to me.”
I blink rapidly, trying to figure out what to do. Does it matter if I hand it all over to him? What will he do with a machine like that?
“What’s your answer, Hazel?”
“Why? What do you want with my prototype?” I say. The little demon is fizzing around, making it hard to concentrate. It’s agitated about something, but I can’t focus on what it might be right now.
“Energy,” he says simply. “The ability to use demon energy is the next step in the evolution of supernatural people.”
“You’re supernatural?” I ask, my tone sharp. He saw my glowing hand; I know he’s at least partially super, but I want to hear the words out of his mouth.
He nods deliberately. “I am.”
Squinting, I try to figure out what he could be. Maybe a snake? I wish Blade were here, he’d be able to tell.
“Can I give you my answer tomorrow?” I ask. My head is spinning, and my legs feel like jelly. My vision is starting to blur, and all I want is to sit down.
“Sure,” says Connor. “If you want to wake up back in Ravenwood.”
I swallow hard. I need to get out of here. And the only way to do that… “Fine. I agree to your conditions.”
He smiles cordially, like he hasn’t just strong-armed me into an agreement against my will. “What day is good for you?” he says.
“Sorry?”
“For our dinner date. What day next week?”
I shake my head. “No. We’re not going for dinner.” I don’t want to be in his company any more than I have to.
“Did I not mention? That’s the last of my conditions. A dinner date with me.” He says it so suavely, I wonder if I heard right.
“But—”
“Dinner with me, or back to your cell in Ravenwood, Hazel.” His voice is suddenly hard, all hint of amiability gone.
How did I ever find this guy attractive? “Thursday?”
“Thursday it is, then. I’ll pick you up from your home.”
“Fine, I live at—”
“No need, I already know. I had one of my secretaries find out.” He smiles at me as if it’s normal to do that.
Everything inside me is yelling that I need to get away from Connor. That he’s the one who’s unstable, not me. But I have no choice. “Um…okay. See you then.” I glance at the door. “I better go. I have someone downstairs waiting for me.”
“Ah yes, the SIG agent.”
“Oh,” I say. It’s all I’ve got. I don’t know how else to react to what’s just happened between us.
“I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock on Thursday, Hazel. Don’t be late.”
I back out of the office, trying to figure out the exact point that Connor stopped being sexy and started being scary.
I pretty much run past his secretary and would have gone down the stairs if the door hadn’t been locked. I have to wait for the next elevator to arrive, looking back over my shoulder every few seconds, wondering what else Connor knows about me. My head feels woozy, and I can’t think straight. The pins and needles have spread into my other arm, and down my legs. When I get inside the elevator, I clutch the railing, and it’s the only thing keeping me standing.
The elevator doors open, and I stumble out onto the ground level. The security guard and the receptionist stare at me as I walk unsteadily to the exit. I only just make it to the doors without falling, and they open automatically. A whoosh of hot afternoon air pushes against me as I step outside, looking desperately around for Blade.
He appears directly in front of me, his expression concerned, and I’ve never been so glad to see someone in my life.
I take a step toward him, and my legs crumble beneath me. The last thing I see is Blade rushing to stop me falling.
44
I wake as Blade is carrying me up the stairs to my apartment. My head feels stuffed full of cotton wool, and for a moment, I can’t remember what happened.
And then it all comes rushing back. I moan.
“It’s okay,” says Blade. “We’re almost back at your apartment. Damien will know what to do.”
I can’t do anything but nod. My head is crushed against his shoulder, tantalizingly close to the bare skin at the collar of his shirt. He’s so close, I can smell his unique scent, mixed with pine and dirt from the ranch. It smells like heaven.
The rest of my body is numb. The demon is still fizzing inside me, making my heart race unnaturally. Occasionally, an electrical current runs up the side of my body, and I twitch. My vision is blurry, and I’m taking tiny breaths like my lungs can’t hold much air.
All around, I feel like I’ve just been dragged backwards through mud.
Blade pushes open the door to my apartment. Immediately we’re hit by the noise—cars zooming along a track, and two voices yelling at each other as they race. Damien and Nelson are having a great time. Neither of them turns as we enter; they’re too engrossed in the PlayStation game.
Blade clears his throat. “Damien,” he says loudly.
Damien jerks and turns, his car crashing into the sidelines and bursting into flames behind him.
“I win!” yells Nelson.
“Where the hell have you been?” says Damien, leaping up from the sofa. His face looks more lined somehow, and for the first time since I met him his suit is crinkled. “I don’t have time to wait around, I need to get back to New York.”
“It’s a long story. We’re here now,” says Blade, half carrying me to the sofa. I slide gratefully down to a sitting position and look up at him.
Nelson looks at me, then at Blade, and backs toward the door. “I’m gonna go home now, let you guys sort yourselves out. Again.”
I can only watch his disappearing figure. Everything else seems too hard right now
.
“What the hell is the matter with her?” says Damien.
“I don’t know. She just collapsed on me when she came out of her meeting with Connor.”
“Did he do something to her?”
I manage to shake my head. The little demon is leaping about inside me like a crazy thing. It’s trying to tell me something, but I don’t know what. It’s too hard to think right now.
“How much demon energy did she absorb?” asks Damien.
Blade looks at me. “Eight of them? Maybe Nine?”
I nod, although I don’t remember the exact numbers.
“The demon energy definitely went into her body?” says Damien, eying me closely.
Blade looks at me again, and I nod.
“That’s a lot of demon energy inside her. If it were your knife Blade, we’d have arranged for extraction long before now. I think we need to get it out.”
My head is whirling around by this point. “Huh?” I manage.
“She’s glowing blue,” says Blade.
I look down. He’s right, both my hands are blue. There’s a humming noise in my head, like one of those drone helicopters is hovering above me. I look up at Damien. “Wha’?”
“We have to move fast.”
“How are we going to do it?” asks Blade, his voice grim.
“I don’t know,” says Damien. “Your knife is usually emptied by the specialists. I’m just the guy who sends them.”
I smile wonkily up at Blade. My head isn’t thinking clearly, but I do know that I can trust him to make things better.
Blade pulls his knife from its sheaf. “Here. Use the knife to pull the energy out of her. Right now.”
“I don’t know if I can,” says Damien softly. “Not without proper authorization.”
“Don’t you dare,” growls Blade.
I frown up at him, not understanding what’s going on. Why’s he so mad at Damien?
“Dare what?” says Damien, his voice like steel.
“Don’t you use this as a way to get her on your books. She’s dying, dammit, and you need to fix her. Right now.”
Dying? I can’t think straight, but my brain catches on that one word.
“You’re being overdramatic here, Blade. I’m merely pointing out that I don’t have the same resources for non-SIG agents.”
“She doesn’t want to do it,” says Blade. “She already told you.”
“But what if it’s a matter of life or death? What if you die if you don’t join, and you live if you do?”
I scrunch up my face, trying to understand the sentence. “Goin’ t’die?” I manage. Electricity is zinging its way around my body now, making me spasm in reaction.
“I don’t know, Hazel. But I’m only authorized to help SIG agents.”
“You’re an asshole,” says Blade. “Just like Hazel’s been saying.”
“I’m just doing what’s right for everyone. She needs our protection, and she’s being stupidly stubborn about joining. You know we’re not that bad. If it will save her, shouldn’t she sign the contract?”
Blade growls, and it sounds like a real wild cat. His eyes are flashing dangerously Damien.
“Don’t pull that shit on me, Blade. This is the way it works. Deal with it.” Damien’s voice is hard, and for the first time, I’m a little afraid of him.
Blade doesn’t back down. “It’s not the right way to recruit her.”
“She’s not responding to your brand of charm, kitty cat, and I don’t have time to waste on this, anymore. So we do it my way. Hazel, sign here on the dotted line if you want to live.” Damien hands a pen and a contract to me. I manage to take the paper in one hand, and the pen in the other. I can’t feel where they’re touching my skin, it’s all numb.
Will I die if I don’t sign this? I blearily squint through one eye at Damien. Does he really mean it? He won’t help me if I don’t join?
“My bosses won’t let her live if she doesn’t become a SIG agent,” Damien says quietly. “She’s too dangerous.” There’s something so raw in his expression, I know he’s telling the truth. My heart pounds inside my body. I’m too dangerous?
All of a sudden, I feel the little demon push to the surface, and it takes control again, like it did when it first invaded my body. It moves my hand, tightening it on the pen.
The demon makes me put the contract on my knees and attempts to write my name. I growl under my breath and manage to wrest back control. Holding my hand over the contract, I hesitate. What am I signing away? What will this mean for my promises to Connor? Will I end up back at Ravenwood because of this? Will I lose everything, just as I’m about to get the answers I’ve been hunting all these years?
I look up into Damien’s face. He doesn’t give anything away. He’s good at the games he plays. I used to think I was pretty good at prevarication and misdirection, but I’m nothing on this guy.
Will he let me die?
Yes, I think he will.
Again, the demon rises to the surface. Fear and panic rise with it. It tightens my grip on the pen and signs the document. This time, I don’t stop it.
Damien grabs the document out of my hands. “Bring her into the bedroom,” he says sharply, leading the way. He doesn’t seem happy that he’s gotten his way.
Blade lifts me up, and we follow Damien. He deposits me on my bed, and I lie back, too exhausted to even stay sitting. I have a weird flashback to last time we were all in here. That time, it was Blade who was wounded.
“We need to get the demons out of Hazel, and into your knife, Blade.”
“And how do we do that?” Blade’s voice is frosty. He’s pissed at Damien.
“You have to stab her with your knife.”
45
The little demon immediately fills me with sharp, jagged fear. I jerk up into a sitting position. “No,” I manage to croak.
“What?” Blade’s voice is an octave lower than usual.
“It’s the only way. It’s how the knife works. You stab the demon. Its essence is pulled into the knife.“
“I’m not stabbing Hazel,” says Blade. “You do it.”
“I can’t do it. That knife only works for you and your line. You know that as well as I do.” Damien sounds exasperated.
“I’m not doing it,” repeats Blade stubbornly.
“I’m not asking you to kill her. Just stab her in the leg, away from all the major arteries, and pull out the demons. It’s simple.”
“Simpl’?” I repeat. I fall back onto the bed and close my eyes. When did my life get this complicated? The only way to save myself is to let some guy stab me.
Fuck.
“Hurry, Blade. She doesn’t have long. And then you’ll have to stab her in the heart, not just the leg.” Damien’s words are soft, probably only meant for Blade, but they send a chill through me.
I open my eyes and gaze up at Blade. His bright green eyes are locked on mine like he can’t look away. If this is the only way…. “Do it,” I say.
He tries to shake his head, to say no, but my look turns pleading. “Please?”
His breath comes out in a whoosh, like he’s deflating. But he leans down and pulls out his knife from its sheath by his ankle. “This will work just like it does when I stab a demon?” he asks Damien. “It’ll all be sucked out?”
“Yes.”
“And it won’t kill Hazel?”
“Not unless you stab her in the wrong place.”
“You owe me,” says Blade, his voice gravelly with emotion.
Damien just nods and moves over to me. “I’m going to hold you down, Hazel. It’s going to hurt. But you’re strong. You can survive this.”
I take a breath, then another, and—
Searing pain, like nothing I’ve ever experienced shoots up my body from a point about halfway down my thigh. I look down and see Blade’s knife in my leg, his fingers gripped so tightly around the shaft they’re white.
I let out a scream, and the little demon inside me shudders in
response.
A curling, coiling feeling emerges, like something is unwinding inside me. Underneath the pain, I start to feel a suction, like something is pulling my insides toward the wound, toward the knife. It’s not just yanking on the demon essences that I’ve absorbed. It’s pulling on me, on my essence.
I try to scream again, to sit up, to scramble about, to let Blade know what’s happening. But I can’t move. Everything is focused on the knife, and the overwhelming feeling of being dragged into the magic of that sharp blade.
It’s like there’s a tornado inside me, spinning, turning, dragging me toward the knife. The winds are strong, but at first, I manage to resist them. The little demon is clinging to my body. But I feel something else, a heaviness I hadn’t realized was there. It’s being dragged toward the knife.
A high-pitched screech fills my senses. It’s discordant and uneven, making all the hairs on my body stand on end. It gets louder and louder, until I feel like I’m going to somehow explode from the paralyzing pain of it. I gasp in a breath, but my lungs are too tight. I’ve lost the ability to breathe.
I’m going to die.
Damien was wrong, this isn’t going to save me. It’s going to kill me.
Then suddenly there’s a loud pop, and the screech dies away.
I open my eyes. Blade is still holding the knife in my leg.
“Only a few more to go,” says Damien grimly.
The high-pitched screech fills my head again, this time rubbing me just a little more raw around the edges. My body feels ragged, like I’ve been put through the wash a few too many times. Again, the screeching fills every corner of my being, not letting me hide away from any of it. This time it feels like it’s echoing, bouncing off my already besieged senses, and hitting me everywhere at once. I manage to get my hands up to my ears, holding them tightly on top, but it makes no difference. The screech is invading my head, and it’s unrelenting.
And then with a pop it ends.
My body sags back into the bed. I feel lighter, and more of the energy has left me.
And then it starts again. Screeching. Pain. But worse this time. Like I’m becoming more fragile each time the energy dissipates. My skin feels transparent, too thin to hold my flesh and blood inside.
