Demons of the Sun

by Madsen, Cindi

  “It was formed in Hell, and there aren’t many places hotter than Hell. Besides, when’s the last time you saw an open volcano to try it out?”

  “I just…” He shrugged.

  Realizing how mean she’d sounded, she turned to face him and softened her voice. “Sorry. I know you’re trying to help, but believe me, our family has tried everything. It’s indestructible, so the only thing we can do is keep it from getting into the wrong hands.”

  Without the demon blood running through her veins, touching the dagger, even for a couple seconds, would be impossible. She’d only touched it once—the night Mom had handed it over and said, Sorry, but you’re our only hope. Run. Run and don’t look back.

  Persephone had reluctantly taken it in her hands. It didn’t sear her skin, but the handle felt hot. The heat then traveled up her arms, ran through her body, and she felt the pull of Hell, calling the dagger back home. And she wanted to do as it asked. Wanted to deliver it to the demons who’d come to kill her family.

  Even now, just looking at it, she remembered the pull and felt the demon blood calling for it. Her heart picked up speed, and her fingers itched to unlatch the case and touch it. With trembling hands, Persephone grabbed the box’s lid. Diverting her gaze from the dagger, she slammed the lid back on, and took a couple deep breaths, feeling better now that she couldn’t see it.

  “So there’s the proof you claim you didn’t need. The dagger’s real, and it’s a real pain in my ass.” She set the box back inside her closet, anxious to get it as far away from her as she could, and waved her hand. “Se camoufler.”

  The outline of the box faded, and Persephone slid the wall back into place.

  Jax’s hand appeared in her peripheral vision. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. “I know it took a lot of trust to show me that, and I swear, I’ll never betray that trust.”

  “I sure hope not, because I’m kind of counting on you to keep me from slipping.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I won’t let you fall.”

  For one brief moment, she felt the tiniest glimmer of hope that everything would be okay.

  But then reality set in. Something bad was going on, she could feel it. The worst part was, she was as afraid of herself as any demon they might run into.

  Chapter Eleven

  Persephone grabbed the notebook out of her locker, frowned at it when it looked unfamiliar, and flipped it open. This must be Jax’s notebook.

  He hadn’t written actual notes, but in the middle of a page was a circle scribbled in blue ink. Over the top of the circle were the words, “Bang Head”, below it was the word “here.”

  She smiled, then held the notebook out to Jax. “I believe these detailed notes are yours.”

  He leaned down and looked at the paper. A sheepish grin hit his lips. “I get kind of bored in class.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “The next page is even better.”

  Persephone turned the page and studied the sword-wielding stick figures. She pointed at one. “This monster thing fell in a mud puddle?”

  He squinted at the picture. “That’s a demon, and the little Warrior guy just cut his head off. That’s blood.”

  “Looks like you really missed your calling as an artist.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Hey. We talked about this, remember?” He pointed at himself. “Fragile ego.”

  Persephone laughed. “Right. Can’t believe I forgot.”

  He pointed to a sketch at the bottom of the page. “That one’s of you, by the way.”

  The stick figure had wavy hair, angry eyebrows, and a frown on her face.

  It was her turn to be insulted. She smacked his arm with the notebook. “Now my ego’s feeling fragile.”

  He draped his arm over her shoulders. “That was before I knew you.” His smile got even bigger. “Now I’d fill in the pouty lips and add a little more fire to those eyes.”

  She shook her head. “I’m going to get you back for that later. Soccer, or training, or whenever you’re least expecting it.”

  A mischievous glint hit his eye. “Looking forward to it.”

  Just down the hall, Persephone spotted Danielle stepping up to her locker. “I’ve got to go talk to Danielle. I’ll catch up with you in class.”

  Jax gripped her shoulder, keeping her next to him. “Last time you said that, you never showed up.”

  “I’ll be there, I promise.” Persephone held out his notebook, and he hesitantly dropped his arm and took it from her.

  Realizing she was practically skipping, Persephone slowed her steps as she approached Danielle, who was busy taking her books out of her locker. “Hey, D.”

  Danielle glanced over her shoulder. “What happened with you and Jax over the weekend?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Didn’t look like nothing. If I’m not mistaken, I even saw a smile. A smile I usually only see when you’re pummeling someone on the soccer field.”

  Another smile broke free. “It was a nice weekend. We talked, and we have several things in common, and he’s fun to be around. We’re friends.” Persephone lowered her eyebrows. “You think that’s okay?”

  “Of course it’s okay.” Notebook in hand, Danielle wheeled around to face Persephone. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Because of Adrastos. I’m sure he wouldn’t be very happy about it, and even though Jax and I are just friends, I still feel kind of guilty about it.” Then again, Adrastos had stood her up the last few nights, so she wasn’t exactly happy with him either.

  I can’t think like that. He’d be with me if he could, I know he would.

  Danielle tucked her books under her arm. “You and Jax are friends, and who couldn’t use more friends?”

  Persephone looked back at Jax. He had his locker door open and was staring inside like he was searching for something but couldn’t find it. He stood out from the crowd in every way. Height, build, confidence. She’d never admit it to him, but she might need him some day. Plus, it was nice to have someone who really understood to talk to. Someone she could actually trust with the truth—most of it anyway.

  Danielle nudged her. “I think it’s okay to be friends who occasionally kiss, too. Especially if they look like that, and you can’t stop staring at them.”

  Persephone forced her attention back to Danielle. “No kissing. Just friends.”

  “Whatever you say. But if you do kiss him, don’t beat yourself up. Just enjoy it. Then call me and give me all the details.”

  Persephone had wondered what it would be like to kiss him once or twice. Or maybe more like twenty or thirty times. No doubt he’d be good at it. But then she’d have to face the guilt, which would end up making her miserable.

  Just friends. To be on the safe side, I better start keeping a little more distance between us.

  Keeping distance between them wasn’t going to be easy since they not only lived together but also had every single class together.

  Persephone walked to her desk—the desk to Jax’s left—and sat down.

  Jax was bent over his notebook, face scrunched up in concentration, pen moving across the paper. “Almost…” He glanced at her, then back at the page in front of him. He added something else to his drawing. “There. It’s perfect.” He held out the notebook to her. “A new and improved drawing now that I know you better.”

  Persephone took it from him and held the drawing up in front of her. This stick figure had lots of wavy hair, normal eyebrows, and filled in lips that hinted at a smile. Turtle was next to her—she assumed it was Turtle anyway.

  She lifted the drawing higher and squinted at the dialogue bubble, trying to read his tiny handwriting.

  jax, you’re so cool. i’m so glad we met.

  She lowered the paper. “Wow. It’s really realistic. Especially what I’m saying.”

  “A true artist looks beyond what’s on the outside, more into the soul, you know?”

  Persephone rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help smil
ing. Shaking her head, she held the notebook out to him. “Well there you go, Picasso.”

  Without looking away from her, he took the notebook. “Did I ever tell you I like the streaks in your hair?”

  “No, but thanks. It’s a Sentry thing.” Yet another reminder of the light and dark inside. She often wondered if her parents had struggled with both sides as much as she did, but they’d never said anything, and it’s not like she could ask them now. When she first felt the pull, she was too scared to ask Gran, and now she was gone, too.

  What if I’m the only one who’s struggled with it? I’m the last Sentry, and I’m afraid I’m the weakest of them all.

  When Sentries were born, a Shaman blessed the babies to give them strength, the ability to do their job, and to help them rise above being tempted into darkness.

  Maybe the Shaman’s blessing didn’t work. Maybe he couldn’t suppress the evil inside of me.

  “Persephone?” Jax’s voice broke through her reverie. “You okay?”

  Doing her best to shake those depressing thoughts from her head, she said, “I’m fine. Just wishing we didn’t have to sit through class.”

  “Yeah, you and me both.”

  Turned out, it was even worse than she expected. When class started, Mr. Ramsey told them to go to chapter twenty in their textbooks, which happened to be about Black Death.

  Persephone glanced at Jax and found him looking back at her. Her stomach felt like it was closing in on itself, and judging by his tight-lipped expression, he felt about the same way.

  As Mr. Ramsey started his lecture on the pandemic, Persephone laid her head on her desk and tried to tune him out.

  Persephone stood in the middle of a wide, dusty street. Squat stone buildings with straw roofs lined the road. All around her people were in a state of panic, eyes wide, scrambling around, practically tripping over themselves as they rushed toward her. The men wore long tunics, while the women wore dresses with flared sleeves that covered their hands and skirts that brushed the dirt.

  They were running from something, but several of them slowed to stare at her.

  One woman gasped, then covered her son’s eyes, and shook her head at Persephone as she passed.

  Looking down, Persephone saw she had on a black corset with tiny crystals that caught the sunlight, and a billowing black skirt.

  What am I wearing? And where am I?

  Screaming and yelling came from up ahead. She started toward the noise, pausing when she saw a sword leaning against an open doorway.

  Something tells me I’m going to need that.

  Persephone stepped into the dark room—no one else was around—grabbed the sword, and exited the old house.

  The sun beat down on her, baking her bare shoulders. Thick clouds of dust filled the air. More and more people came running toward her, some badly injured, all wearing terrified expressions.

  Still, Persephone felt impelled to keep going. Her heart rate increased with every step she took closer to the action, until it was hammering against her ribs in a painful too-fast rhythm.

  Bodies of slain men and women covered the ground. In the middle of the open, grassy area stood a demon army. No projections, fully armed, killing people left and right.

  The few people who weren’t running away were trying to fight them off, but they were severely outnumbered.

  Persephone glanced up at the sun, shining brightly in the sky, then back at the demons. Their grayish skin was peeling and sagging, but obviously the sun didn’t burn them.

  A hooded figure emerged. She couldn’t make out his face, but no glowing red eyes came from under his hood, and he wasn’t built like a demon. There was something about him, though, that chilled her to her core.

  As he stepped out of the shade of the trees, the sun glinted off the blade in his hand—Hades Dagger. A massive, three-headed black dog stood by his side. Cerberus. The man must be Hades himself.

  “Bring me a Warrior!” Hades bellowed.

  Just behind him, a demon lurked in the shadows, red eyes glowing.

  One of the beasts brought a struggling man over to Hades. Even facing Hades, the Warrior clenched his jaw and held his head high.

  Hades lifted the dagger and plunged it into the man’s chest.

  A strong wind swirled Persephone’s hair around her face as she watched in horror, unable to move, to breathe.

  The Warrior crumpled to the ground.

  Crimson ran in streams down the dagger—both inside and out. Hades muttered an incantation the breeze carried away before she could make it out. He turned and plunged the dagger into the chest of the demon behind him.

  The demon let out an awful scream that raised the hair on the back of Persephone’s neck and sent crippling fear through her entire body.

  Then his eyes opened. He stumbled into the light and slowly tipped his head to the sun.

  Hades turned, and the sun threw enough light on his face to make out his chin and the caustic smile stretched across his lips. “Soon, there will be only our kind left. Then we will have Earth and Hell.”

  Swallowing the suffocating despair she felt, Persephone gathered all her courage, lifted her sword, and stepped toward Hades. “I’m going to need that dagger back.”

  In a blur, he was gone.

  Then he was standing right beside her, his lips near her ear. “Face it, you’re one of us. You should be fighting on our side.”

  Persephone whipped around, swinging the sword toward him. “I’m not one of you. I fight with the gods.”

  Hades gestured at the two demons standing where he’d been moments ago, beckoning them over. “You’ll change your mind.”

  With that, he left her side, moving so fast her eyes couldn’t track him. The two demons came at her, taking large, quick strides.

  Backpedaling, Persephone lifted her sword.

  But now all of the demons were walking toward her, encircling her on all sides. Her knees felt weak, her hands started to shake.

  The demons moved closer and her mind spun, trying to work out a way to get out of this alive. But there wasn’t one.

  Teeth bared, swords out, the demons charged.

  A hand reached out and took hers.

  And then she was being yanked away.

  Persephone jerked her head off her desk and gasped. Heart racing, she looked around, trying to get her bearings. Mr. Ramsey meant World History. She glanced to her right and found Jax staring right back at her.

  Her gaze dropped down to her hand. The hand Jax was still holding—he’d obviously pulled her out of the dream. Never before had she been sucked in like that, not during the day.

  Jax squeezed her hand and mouthed, “You okay?”

  It took all her self-control not to cry.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jax quickened his step to catch up to Persephone, which wasn’t easy, considering how fast she’d bolted out of the classroom. “What was that back there?”

  She waved it off, like it was no big deal. “I fell asleep, that’s all.”

  “Liar. You turned pale, and your breath got all shallow. I could tell something was wrong, that’s why I grabbed your hand.”

  She stopped walking and he almost barreled into her. “It was just a nightmare, okay?”

  “Not okay,” he said. “Was it like the one that woke you up screaming the other night?”

  “I have bad dreams sometimes, the same as everyone else, but I’m fine now, so just let it go.” She turned away, and he reached out and caught her arm.

  She whipped around, that annoyed expression she wore so often the first few days they’d spent together back on her face. “You want to spar right here in the hall?”

  “If that’s what it takes to get you to realize how serious this is. Persephone, this isn’t something you wave off. You’ve got a responsibility, not only to protect the dagger, but also to take care of yourself.”

  “You don’t think I take my job seriously?! It’s haunted me every day, long before you showed up. I
’ve lived it, breathed it, had the importance of it engrained in me since I could talk.” Her fiery eyes met his, and he could see a hint of pain in them, too. “I left my family to die so I could protect it, so don’t ever, ever say anything so stupid to me again.”

  She yanked her arm out of his grasp and stormed away from him.

  Well, shit.

  He stood there, wondering how his good intentions had blown up in his face.

  Jax approached Persephone as she shoved her books in the locker. Anytime he’d looked at her since the confrontation in the hall, she’d looked away. Which had made the day even longer and more tortuous than usual.

  “It came out wrong,” he said. “What I was trying to say is that if something’s happening—and from what I saw the other night and today it looked like more than nightmares—it might mean something. My instincts lead me to demons. They led me to talk to the Druid. If your instincts are telling you something…”

  Her movements slowed, but she didn’t look at him.

  He risked putting his hand on her shoulder. “Last night I told you I wouldn’t let you fall, and I meant it. But how am I supposed to do that if I don’t know what’s going on?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll think I’m crazy.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m starting to question my sanity myself. And honestly, I’d rather believe it was only a bad dream, because if it was more…” She paled, and he could tell whatever she’d seen had scared her.

  And since she hadn’t looked the least bit scared the night she’d been injured fighting the demon, that scared him.

  She slowly turned to face him. “I was sucked back to the days of the Black Death, back when Hades had managed to tip the power scale in his favor. The demons were out walking in the sun, slaying everyone in their path. It was awful. The world was so dark, and so many people died, and Hades was there, and they said…” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head.

  “They said what?”

  She looked away, suddenly interested in the drinking fountain on the other side of the hall. “It doesn’t matter, because I’m not letting it come true.”