The Burden of Trust

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The Burden of Trust Page 9

by Nikki Frank


  “Talon,” I whispered, still laying on the sand. “Can we ever go back? Can we ever be the same?”

  He rubbed his face. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Then you do things like end up in his lap. Sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I know what you said, but from my perspective, it looked bad.”

  “He’s not going to stop hitting on me,” I whispered. “Even if I dodge him, he’s still going to make those moves. He wants a pair bond.”

  “He won’t if you tell him to quit.”

  I rubbed at my eyes and flinched as the sand scratched my face. “No. He’s an akuma, and he wants something. They don’t give up just for the asking. He’ll try until he runs you off, and then he can say there’s no other options.”

  “Well, I’m not letting him run me off. If I go, it’ll be because I don’t think we can fix us.” He turned his head, and his knuckles whitened around a handful of sand. “What do you want?”

  “You, Talon.” My body tingled throughout. I knew that to be true without a shadow of a doubt. “But . . .”

  “But what?” Talon looked suspicious.

  “I can’t bear the thought of hurting you. Mentally or physically. If I can’t get this under control, staying together would be unfair to you. Promising anything seems stupid until after I’m well.”

  “I wouldn’t have cared before you added other complications. I would have loved you no matter what you are.”

  “The demon magic doesn’t care about love. I attacked you back there—with a blade. I’ve attacked Iya numerous times. Bitten and burned him. Who you are doesn’t matter if you set the magic off.” My fingers doodled little circles in the sand. “If the demon magic isn’t stopped, I’m not sure who’ll stay with me. Ferika’s already afraid of me. I’ll be a tyrant until someone is kind enough to kill me.”

  “No.” Talon reached for me then drew his hand back with a jerk. “You can’t say things like that. Be the you from the hotel. Determined, feisty, a little bit kick-ass. Be the old you and beat this.”

  “I try so hard, but the urge still sneaks up on me or flat-out overpowers me. I’m frightened. You’ve really hit a low point when all your nightmares are about yourself.”

  He gave a little half-chuckle. “I miss the funny Livy.”

  “You and me both. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I had no idea two hearts could be broken in one blow. I’ll understand if you never forgive me because I’ll never forgive myself.”

  I stood and brushed the sand off my body. Talon did the same, then ruffled his blue hair in a way that made my heart squeeze.

  “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m trying. I had no idea a single sentence could cause so much pain. Either way, I’ll see you’re healed before deciding anything.”

  He walked away and down the beach without looking back. Those familiar shoulders were squared against me. The wind touched the soft hair I was no longer allowed to run my fingers through.

  I trudged after him, looking for the pieces of my broken heart on the ground around his footprints. The pieces must have been buried in the sand because I found nothing—not one fragment to fill the hole in my chest.

  When we reached the road, a mini-van waited for us. Talon opened the door and lingered, allowing me to climb in. Silent eyes bored into me all the way to the back seat. Velor sat there, and he scooted over so I could have the window. I tried to focus on the view outside, but every eye in the van belonged to an accusing face. The atmosphere disturbed me and encouraged the demon magic, which was searching its box for cracks. It wanted to come out and join with me. It wanted me to punish all of them.

  I twisted and lay on the seat, the top of my head pressed against Velor’s leg. To my surprise, he put a hand on the side of my head and patted gently.

  Velor carried me to the hotel room that night. He tucked me in bed and started to go, but I caught his hand.

  “Can I talk to you a moment?”

  “Of course, Mistress.”

  “Do you want to be released from my service?”

  He got a worried expression on his face. “Have I failed you in some way? Are you displeased?”

  “Not at all. But . . . I’m failing you. I’m not the imp I started out as. If you’re unhappy with how things are now, you’re not forced to stay.”

  He sat on the bed beside me. “May I speak freely, mistress?”

  “Please.”

  His green eyes were earnest. “I will try to explain this since a dragon sees things so differently. But when the previous demon lord sought out our services, my sister and I jumped at the chance. You have no idea how difficult magic is to obtain for a dragon. We naturally get our rations by eating humans, but that’s been outlawed. Dragons outside the employment of the nobility have a difficult life. My sister and I had a cushy job full of killing.

  “Then you came along. You hated us for being part of the battle which took your parents' lives. Yet unlike a typical demon lord, you didn’t torture us, kill us, or banish us with no magic. You forgave us. You ordered us to learn to love. Vixaria and I had many discussions on this topic but decided the access to magic outweighed what we felt to be orders running contrary to our very nature. What we found, as we tried our best to comply, surprised us.

  “We’ve done as you requested. For all the kindness you’ve shown us over the past months. For all the times you’ve treated us as equals and not your slaves, we’ve learned to love you. I didn’t realize how much until you began to struggle. You stuck by us as we learned to live outside ourselves. We . . . I . . . will do the same. I will stay until you order me away. But please continue to fight. I can’t imagine another demon lord like you, and I don’t want to go back to the way things were.”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. “You really feel that way?”

  “Absolutely. The entire district does. You’ve freed them all. You are probably the most beloved demon lord in history, and you’re only getting started. Imagine how things will be a hundred years from now.”

  I rubbed at my eyes. “Velor, that may have been the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. If I haven’t said it before, I need you, too. You and your sister have been growing on me. But with everything you’ve done the last couple weeks, it’s made me realize how much a part of my family you’ve become.” A sigh rattled on its way out. “I thought for sure you’d take me up on my offer to leave.”

  “I’m here to stay, Mistress.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Three of the crappiest days ever passed while we drove. Iya only allowed me in the van and our hotel room. Contact with anyone who might set off another episode was strictly forbidden. Which also meant the conversation in the car, when it even happened, had been light and stiff. My meals had been brought to me, and I became more prisoner than overlord.

  As we got closer to Kansas and the source of the signal, I began to worry. How were we going to get this vessel to come with us? Jump on them and drag them away to be filled with demon magic? And once we filled the vessel, how would I access my magic? My best friend, a human named Emmett, had turned out to be a source, a human who funneled raw magic like a geyser. To get to the magic he channeled, you had to kiss him.

  It would be a disaster if that’s what happened this time. I’d never get Talon back if I had to go kissing some guy all the time to draw my power. And if she turned out to be a girl . . . Actually, that might crack Talon’s new shell a little, but I’d never kissed . . . you know . . .

  The fourth day, we pulled into a small town in central Kansas, which resembled an old-timey postcard. The buildings all could have popped straight out of the 1950’s. Talon pulled off at the only gas station complete with two old-fashioned pumps out front. As our van came to a stop, a weather-beaten man with thinning white hair and filthy denim overalls came up to the wind
ow. He touched the brim of his cap in greeting as Iya rolled down his windows.

  “Howdy. What can I do for you, folks?”

  Iya gave him a charming smile. “We need a hotel. Is there somewhere to stay in this town?”

  I incredulously scanned the main drag. Iya had to be kidding. The town consisted of a little grocer’s (hardly bigger than a convenience store), a handful of houses, a church, and two shops: one antique store and one bar. I couldn’t see a second street.

  The man pressed his lips together. “Well, now, there’s no hotel. But the pastor and his wife take people from time to time. Can’t say’s we get many folks passin’ through. If you’re really lookin’ to stay, Pastor Kensey lives in the blue place at the back of the church. Can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Iya gave him another smile and rolled the window back up.

  Chapter 8

  Talon drove the van down the street and into a small parking lot at the church. On one side of the lot stood the church, a white-washed rectangle with a steeple perched on top. Across from this sat a modest farmhouse. We piled out and walked the path to the front door of the blue two-story home. Talon knocked on the door, and I clutched the canister to me under my shirt, trying to soothe the hum inside. I didn’t want to hurt regular people.

  “The vessel is in this house,” Iya whispered as we waited.

  A pleasant-looking woman in her late-thirties opened the door.

  “Mrs. Kensey?” Iya asked. “The gentleman at the gas station suggested you might be able to help us with accommodations for the night.” He’d given a tiny shake of his head. She wasn’t the vessel.

  Mrs. Kensey surveyed our group nervously. “I don’t really have room for so many.” She had a quiet voice that held a soft accent.

  “What’s this now?” A tall man about her age peeked out over her shoulder.

  “They’re needin’ lodgings for the night,” she answered. “But there’s not enough room.”

  The man gave a quick frown. “We’ll not be turnin’ anyone out of doors on my watch.” He brightened suddenly. “You folks won’t mind sleepin’ in the church, will ya?”

  “That would be fine.” Iya gave him a toothy grin, and Mrs. Kensey shrunk back.

  Mr. Kensey looked pleased. “Glad to help. I’d be happy to have ya in the house, but we’re short on rooms right now. My wife’s nephew is stayin’ here while he sorts out some nonsense the big city put in his head.”

  “Shush, Kent,” Mrs. Kensey admonished. “May I speak with you in private?”

  “Excuse me a minute.” The Kenseys stepped inside, and the door shut softly. Clearly, Mrs. Kensey had forgotten that both windows on either side of the door were open.

  “They can’t stay, Kent. They’re no good.”

  “Molly, I know you have a bias about city folk, especially after everything Graham is goin’ through. But that’s not reason to withhold kindness to strangers. They’re just lookin’ to sleep.”

  “No. That’s not what I mean.” Her voice quavered. “They’re . . . unholy. I can feel it.”

  I gave Iya a horrified glance. To my surprise, he shook with silent laughter. When I lived on Earth, occasionally I ran across people who were more in tune with magic. They didn’t really understand it but were able to pick up on it somehow. She must have been one of those people.

  Mr. Kensey gave a jovial laugh. “Well, we’ll know soon enough. I did offer to put them in the church. If they run screaming, that’ll settle it.”

  The door opened again, and we all tried to pretend like we hadn’t been listening.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Mr. Kensey apologized. “My wife was worried we wouldn’t have enough for dinner. But I reassured her that the Lord will provide.”

  “He certainly will.” Iya’s eyes twinkled as he said this.

  I tried not to roll my eyes. They were obviously referring to different Lords. I shuddered to think what Iya might be planning with his jest. He turned with a flourish and went back to the van. When he came back, he held two bags.

  “I brought groceries thinking we might have a suite with a kitchen, but we seem to have taken a wrong turn. It’d be a shame to let the food go to waste.”

  As Mr. Kensey offered profuse thanks, I tugged on Iya’s shirt. “What the hell?” I hissed at his ear. “When did you get so comfortable here? You sound human.”

  “While you’ve been hiding out, I’ve been learning.” His lips lingered on my ear with his whisper. “It’s in a demon’s nature to pick up natural living here. How else can you tempt and chase excess? And speaking of tempting . . .” He took my earlobe between his teeth and nibbled.

  I pushed him back, closed my eyes, and fought with a dozen emotions, none of which I wanted on public display. The demon magic called from within the container, begging me to use it to hurt Iya or do things that made me blush. The power would be satisfied with either.

  When I opened my eyes, Mr. Kensey had pushed Mrs. Kensey into the house with the bags in her arms.

  “Be hospitable, Molly.” Over his shoulder to us. “Come on in. While Molly cooks dinner, can I interest you folks in some conversation or a game?” He ducked his head apologetically. “We don’t have a TV and keep the computer in the church. No need to waste time on screens when you can have real human interaction. I hope that’s no bother.”

  “No problem at all.” Iya’s reply slid as smooth as his smile. “We’re grateful for your hospitality.”

  Mr. Kensey gave him a bright smile in return. “Do ya play cards?”

  “Only for money,” Iya said.

  “I think we can swing that. I’ll get the cards and some quarters.” Mr. Kensey hurried from the room as Iya snickered, eyes glinting.

  “I’ll talk him into bigger bets.” He turned on Mrs. Kensey, who scowled at us from the doorway to the kitchen, and gave her a sinister smile. “Unless you’d rather play for your soul?” he hissed quietly in her direction.

  She gave a shriek and ran from the doorway. Things stayed stiff through dinner. Mrs. Kensey flipped between giving terrified and furious looks. Mr. Kensey refused to acknowledge either and kept up a rolling stream of conversation.

  As soon as the last fork had been placed on the table, Mrs. Kensey stood and glared at her husband. “Our guests are all young. I’m takin’ them to the church to get proper rest. You’ll see Graham gets his dinner?”

  Before Mr. Kensey could utter a sound, we’d been ushered out of the house. Darkness had fallen, and the warm night air carried a comfortable scent of grass. I tripped along behind the others, without a flashlight and unable to see in the dark. A small light on the back of the church helped, but only a little. Mrs. Kensey swatted away moths as she fumbled with the keys.

  “You can sleep on any of the pews or the floor. Down in the preschool classroom are a few pillows and blankets. You’ll have to make the best of it.”

  She opened the door. I should have been warned when Iya waited to go in last. As he crossed the threshold, he collapsed to the floor, writhing and growling. The woman screamed and fled the church, leaving her flashlight on the ground.

  I scowled at him. “Seriously, Iya? She honestly believes in angels and demons. You’re going to scar her for life.”

  “She’ll live.” He pouted a little. “The woman meddles too much. She asked at dinner if I’d like to repent of my sins. Imagine asking an akuma that?”

  “Maybe confessing would help,” I snarked.

  He leaned toward me, giving me an enticing grin. “Some of my sins I’m just not sorry for.”

  Talon got up and slammed out the door. I shot Iya a scathing look and went to go after him, but Ferika caught my legs on my way by, jerking me to the floor next to her.

  “Leave him alone,” she whispered to me. “He knows Iya’s still after you
. You didn’t take Iya’s bait, and Talon saw. But I don’t think it’s good for you to go stir things up while he tries to control his temper.”

  “Is Mr. Kensey the vessel then?” I asked Iya, changing the subject.

  He shifted a little. “No. He’s not.”

  “Then who?”

  “It must be the nephew, Graham.” Iya gazed out the window in the direction of the blue house. “Unfortunately, Molly wouldn’t let us anywhere near him. I’m not sure what he’s here ‘recovering’ from, but she must have thought we’d be a negative influence. She’s made every excuse under the sun to keep us from seeing him, so I haven’t even confirmed my suspicion.”

  He shifted again, uncomfortably. “I . . . I hesitate to ask, but you’re an imp and all . . . Do you think you have the control to . . .”

  “Sneak into his bedroom and kidnap him? Probably. But I don’t have my goblin powder with me, and even if I did, it sends the kids to the Goblin Kingdom. I don’t actually pick anyone up and take them anywhere.”

  “No problem.” Iya tossed a little pouch to me. “That’s homing powder, which is directly linked to me. Don’t ask what it’s made from or what I use it for. You don’t want to know. But the powder will draw him directly to me. You get in and get this on him without waking him, and I’ll do the rest.”

  I grabbed the pouch and left. The sooner we got my magic under control, the better. Thanks to my Hermes shoes, one leap got me up on the roof. Inside the dormer stood stacks of boxes. Dang it. He must sleep on the other side.

  My shoes kept each footfall silent as I crept across the roof. In the window on the far side, a bed with a lump occupied the nearest wall. On a nightstand, a clock glowed with green numbers. 12:56.

  I used imp magic to undo the lock and open the window. Slipping silently inside, a warm feeling of nostalgia hugged me. I’d been born to kidnap. This was my natural place in the universal order―no fighting to be something I wasn’t, to control forces bigger than me. Opening Iya’s pouch, I took a pinch of powder and held it out to sprinkle on Graham.

 

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