by P. S. Power
Keeley felt mixed about it herself. It made sense that she’d need the time though.
“Maybe we could get with the Principal first thing? I’ll have to drag one of you along for that, most likely, but then I can do the rest I think. Things are a lot easier to get done once you have money on your side.” Silly as it was, the idea of missing a full day of school actually caused her to worry for a moment. She pulled back from that, knowing that even the other straight “A” students missed the occasional day. She never had, but then she didn’t get sick, and just taking a day off would mean staying home, most of the time at least. With her mother.
She loved her mom, but that would get nerve wracking fast, the constant cleaning that got done in the evenings was bad enough, but during the day she could go a little wild with the whole thing.
Very much so. Things like clean floors that could be eaten off of being scrubbed for an hour each day, the stove being cleaned inside and out, even if it hadn’t been used at all. Things like that. It was hard to watch.
Painful even.
The medication was helping, but she still did most of that. The obsessive counting rituals and doing things four times each, over and over again had calmed down a lot for her though, so there was that. Charles walked away, chattering with Dan for a bit, as her mother looked at her.
“This is kind of out of the blue. Was it in the works for a while? You might have told us, you know.” Sherry didn’t sound mad, just a little bit baffled.
For a long moment, Keeley stood silently, not really know how to explain it all. She could lie, even do it convincingly, but that wasn’t always for the best, was it. Instead she just shrugged and decided to go with the truth.
“Um, no, I was in the Chief’s office at the police station when I came up with the idea. It’s apparently a good PR move, so everyone is going along with it, that’s all. Really, I kind of wish I’d thought of it earlier, but with Rob and all. Well, you know. Things get forgotten about.” That was just the truth. She wasn’t the only one that did that either.
“Oh? Why were you in the Police station?” Now she was worried again.
Sigh.
What to say? Keeley decided just to go with the truth thing and just see what happened.
“I was… really, I’m planning to get several members of the Wilson High football team suspended before the game, because our team dedicated the game to Rob’s memory, and really, they can’t win on their own. I’m going to plant some alcohol in their cars. The police have already agreed to go and check the vehicles for it. They don’t know it’s being planted of course.” Keeley tilted her head to the side for a second and paused.
“OK, that makes the Chief sound dumb, and he’s not. He knows what I’m planning, but we didn’t talk specifics or anything. There’s also a small chance that the people that killed Rob were from Wilson. It isn’t certain or anything, but the police are looking into it, so this gives them an excuse to have a presence at the school just to nose around a bit.” Then Keeley went quiet, wondering what her mother would say.
“Oh. I… see.”
Then she walked away.
It would have made sense if she went to get her dad, who was still chatting in the other room, or to the other phone, to either check her highly implausible story, or more likely, have her committed to a nice place where she could “rest” and recover her mental health. Instead she went to the storage room out in the garage.
A few minutes later she came back with a decently large wooden crate. It had an unfinished look to it, but the top was open. Inside were fifteen bottles of wine. A deep red, if the color wasn’t just the glass.
“We got this a few years ago. It was expensive, and recommended to us by an old colleague of your father’s, a wonderful older man, but apparently his taste buds had died. This is the worst wine I’ve ever had. Will it be enough? We can get more if you need. Maybe some beer? I don’t think we could get a keg, not on such short notice, but a couple of twelve packs and some bottles should look real enough.”
The box got handed to Keeley. It was heavier than it looked.
She raised a single eyebrow and frowned at her mother.
“Sorry… but, what? You believe me? I mean, it’s really all true, but even so I wouldn’t buy it. I mean I was there for the conversation myself and can hardly believe I did it.”
Sherry, just shrugged and waved toward her room.
“Hide that will you? Your father is coming back.” She didn’t smile at her, but she did nod, just a little, hurrying her daughter along.
Keeley thought she knew her mom pretty well. She had all her memories, at least to the last time they’d touched, about a week before, and had lived with her for over sixteen years. This action baffled her though. It wasn’t normal at all.
That meant something in the situation had changed that Keeley just hadn’t seen yet.
Drastically. Nothing else could account for it.
Keeley went to her room to think about it, hiding the box in her closet. It took a long time to work out, because not all the facts were there. Eventually she managed, nearly ten minutes later.
Her mother was acting different, because she was planning on leaving. Probably not that day, or even that soon, but the decision had already happened. Hardly a shock. What was more telling was that her mother hadn’t asked a lot of questions about Keeley’s strange plan. About anything… It wasn’t lack of concern, so that meant that she had a reason not to say anything.
She knew that Keeley was a Demon.
The pattern of the universe spoke that loudly enough for it to be seen, even if her mom didn’t speak the words herself. It was a Demon ability, seeing reality for what it was like that. But seeing and noticing were two different things. That part though, yes. The woman knew.
That meant that someone had told her, someone that had a reason too. There weren’t a lot of people that could be. Balthias might, if he figured it out, but since Sherry wasn’t sitting in a corner gibbering, that probably wasn’t the case. Just seeing a Lesser Demon could be highly traumatic. Whatever this was, it was a happy enough thing. Something that hadn’t caused her pain when she found out.
That just left three people. All Demons. Well, really four, but Keeley hadn’t told her about it, so three.
Even if Keeley had run around screaming that she was a real Demon, no one would have believed her and rightfully so. It was clearly insane. So she hadn’t accidently let that slip. It literally couldn’t happen.
Darla could have done it, but didn’t have a good reason to. Tarsus, the ancient Demon that placed the storehouse of knowledge in her head, in the area around her really, might have. If he had any reason to at all. If it was just a betrayal, well, that wasn’t it, was it? If that had been the case, she’d already be dead. The guy knew where to find her.
That left one Demon then.
Finias.
Dan Carmichael.
The why of it was harder, and her conclusions would have to be checked, but she was pretty sure she had it before midnight. It was kind of silly for him to have done it, if she was right, but it seemed to be a pretty straightforward thing.
Finias had told her mother about her, because he wanted her to know what her daughter was, so she could help her.
What their daughter was.
Chapter three
That Finias might be her father should have been a shock. It might have been even, if Keeley hadn’t clamped down on that immediately. Really, her new Demon-centric world just didn’t have time for things like teen angst or worrying about who exactly was the sperm-donor dad and how the man that raised her was her real father, no matter what.
She’d seen enough of that on television, before giving it up, to get the idea. Your people were yours. Even Demons seemed to think that way. Darla did at least.
No, the only thing Keeley bothered to feel in the moment was annoyance.
Finias had outed her. To a human. That not only possibly exposed Keeley to people fin
ding out she was young, it endangered her mother. Just thinking the wrong thing, around the wrong Demon could be a problem and now an obsessive compulsive knew about the whole thing.
Like she wasn’t thinking about it constantly?
Keeley wanted to sigh, but didn’t bother, instead she focused on a sense of inner calm, letting the feeling blossom and grow within her, overwhelming the annoyance she felt. Then she picked up the phone.
It was, after all, possible that she was just wrong. Demons got special insight into reality, they could see the ripples and flaws in it, see how things fit together, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be wrong sometimes. If it was the case here, getting worked up would just waste time. So would worry. Better to just confront things and go on. Hence a phone call.
To Darla.
There was a ring, then two. On the third one, like always, Darla picked up. This time it was her regular home phone number, not the official one for “Mrs. Gibson, business magnate”.
Right now Keeley needed to chat with her half sister. Maybe. Unless she was just jumping to conclusions.
“Hello, Gibson residence, Darla speaking, how may I help you?” She always answered the phone like that, or some variation of it. A throwback to a more polite time, Keeley figured. It did sound better than what most people did anymore. Even better than what the older version of her used. More genteel. But then Darla was an old Demon pretending to be a young girl, so there would be flaws in her pattern, wouldn’t there?
“Hi Darla, this is Keeley.” She wanted to pause, or even rush through the question, but instead just forced herself to speak smoothly.
“I’d like to ask you something. It may be sensitive, I don’t know for certain. Would it be possible for you to come over?” She was about to add that it could probably wait until the next day, but didn’t get the chance.
“Coming now. Be just a minute.” Then the phone clicked of, being hung up without a goodbye at all.
Her parents were in bed, which didn’t mean asleep, she knew, but that should still be all right, as long as Darla didn’t knock on the front door. The girl had mad ninja skills and could use magic, so it should be all right. Keeley tried to sense her coming, and did, like a small, lighting fast blip in reality moving toward her. Suddenly the air in front of her warped, twisted and rippled, there was a single blue flash and Darla Gibson, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a soft pale pink sweater, stepped out of it, to the right. A single sidestep.
It was neat. Honestly Keeley couldn’t wait until she could do that too. They called it “walking the in roads” Basically it was really fast travel that wasn’t exactly teleportation, but was about as close as you wanted to get most days. Truly instant anything was a bad idea, since the results around it tended to just snap back when you were done, as if the whole thing didn’t count. Keeley knew that from the information in her head, which just jumped to the front on its own. Helpful for once.
Meaning she’d probably started to integrate it then. Good. It was an amazing thing, all that information, but hard to use. Most Demons never really got a true handle on it, she realized. Pretty much just Tarsus. If she could do that, or even just learn to use it well, it might make a huge difference.
The pretty blond girl had pale, porcelain like skin, and a questioning look on her face, plus a black backpack in hand, a large one. In a few quick gestures she pulled out a small box, similar to the one that Keeley had seen her with before, but this one was all silver, instead of a more practical copper color. It was pretty, and had hundreds of little gears on the outside. Taking out a single key and putting it in the top, the Demoness opened it, making about half the gears move a few places as she turned the key.
Inside the box, which was lined with white silk, it looked like, was another key.
It seemed a bit over the top to Keeley, having a special box for a key, but Darla, still not saying anything, smirked a little and handed it to her, holding it out carefully and giving her a meaningful look.
Keeley took the silver thing, which was oddly warm to the touch, and waited. After a second the heat vanished from the room, leaving her breath visible in the air. That meant she had to devote some time to reminding herself to be warm, but it was an interesting effect.
Darla looked at her, questioning with a glance of blue eyes.
“We can talk, unheard, this way. I don’t think any of the others can spy on us while the field is in effect. Functionally we aren’t standing in the universe at all right now, even though it looks like it. I can explain later. I didn’t know the issue, so, like the boy scouts say, always be prepared.” The look that followed was calm, but had a slightly forced look to it that spoke of it being manipulated toward that end, rather than genuine, meaning Darla was concerned.
Something to watch for then, Keeley decided. If she could tell, any other Demon probably could too.
Keeley took a breath and nodded, the key starting to burn her fingers a little.
“Is Finias our father?” She didn’t blurt it out, just said it as if they’d actually been having a conversation about the topic.
Darla froze.
It was the very first time that Keeley had seen her do that. More, she was considering trying to lie to her about it, which was a waste of time. It was a simple enough thing to answer, wasn’t it? Yes or no?
After about ten seconds Darla just shrugged.
“I wasn’t planning to tell you about that yet. Really he’s not a bad guy, but kind of a bad influence, which is why I volunteered to be your mentor and the others on the council agreed. He wanted the job, of course, but, well, you’ve met him, twice now, what’s your take on him?”
Keeley shook her head, which got Darla to straighten a bit, as if she saw something that Keeley hadn’t known she was communicating. Probably the annoyance she felt at him running his mouth.
“Nice enough, I think he has the hots for my mother, which kind of makes sense. They got together in the first place after all. Right now I’m ticked at him though. Or might be. I think he told her. My mother.” Her fingers were starting to smoke where the silver key was touching them. The flesh turning black. Keeley killed the pain totally and started healing as fast as she could.
“It’s how I figured all of this out. I don’t know it for a fact, but if so, well, that has to endanger me. Kind of reckless, at least from my perspective. Plus, if so, it has to endanger my parents right now too. That might just earn him a kick in the balls, if I can figure out how to do that and survive it.”
Darla went still, thinking. After nearly a minute, she nodded.
“That’s about the size of it. Well, time for damage control then. This kind of thing is why we didn’t hand you over to him… Reckless. It should be fine for the time being, but try not to let on that you know what he did when you meet with him tomorrow. We need to get back to normal space before your hand burns up completely. Good job holding that though. I didn’t really think you’d manage it. That’s high level pain control for someone as young as you are…”
Keeley looked down at her fingers, which were on fire now, and tried to increase the speed she was healing at. Darla passed the box to her, signaling she should drop the key inside. It was still just silver in color, not glowing, not even blackened by her fingers. They stuck to the metal though, melting to it a bit, just before it dropped in, Keeley shaking it off a bit she grinned.
“I smell like cooked pork.”
Darla winked.
“People do. Taste like it too.”
With that, the key dropped and Darla closed the lid, making a small tapping sound when it sealed, the then a small whirring noise as the gears all snapped back into their original place, the key on the top turned back and Darla took it out, quickly slipping the silver thing back into her jeans pocket.
Then she moved to dump the black bag on Keeley’s bed without preamble. Snacks. It was all junk food, cheep, high calorie stuff that even a few weeks before she’d have turned her nose up at. Now they tasted won
derful. Then given everything her sister had probably just gotten her to do the equivalent of running a hundred miles or something as far as energy use went. She liked to do that on occasion, as if it were a test, or maybe a game.
A good time fun fest for all?
Except for the fact that Keeley had bone sticking out the end of her hand at the moment. It was crispy and gross looking and really did smell like charred pork chops. That Darla knew what human flesh tasted like was probably for exactly the reason it seemed. She knew, because at some point or another, she’d eaten it.
The really sick thing to Keeley’s mind was, as hungry as she was anymore, constantly needing to eat something, anything, she could see it. Just get trapped somewhere, or run out of regular food, and how long would it take to realize that the guy next to you looked a bit tasty? Being all made of meat like people were. Then five seconds to get rid of the bad feelings about it and however long it took to prepare the flesh.
Yeah, it made her sick to think of in the moment, but she made that go away with half a thought, almost instantly. Which showed just how easily it could really happen. She decided not to ask Darla about it. Live long enough and things were bound to happen, weren’t they?
Instead she got her half sister to start opening the little, totally clear, wrappers on the snack cakes and started eating, with her unburned hand. Focusing a little harder she tried to make her hand heal faster. It wasn’t an instant thing, and it took a lot of work, but her mentor kept watching closely, as she handed off treats. Half an hour later she pointed at the mainly healed hand and gave her a thumbs up.
They didn’t talk, since there was no noise canceling going on and disciplined paid off in situations like this. Without saying anything she cleaned up the mess, stuffing wrappers of six different types back into the bag and handed it off to the other girl.
