To End the Rapture

by Parker,Lori

  He’s changed out of his dried bloody clothes into the sweats I bought him. The clothes are a size too large, but it’ll work to get him home.

  “Do you want a ride home?”

  It’s so weird that I know nothing about Kade. Not where he lives, not what he’s pretending to study at college. Nothing, other than his very bizarre request.

  “I can walk Tyler. I’m in pain, but every minute, I’m healing. Tormentor wounds are poisoned so that they heal slowly. On a human, it would take months to heal. I should be better within a week.”

  This is a lot of information. A lot of inside information.

  I already made notations on the spell we used last night, while I was sitting in my car, killing time at the store. The most important note was the giant NOPE that I had written over the entire spell. But not so heavily that I couldn’t read what was underneath it. I know of a demon that I’d like to release the Tormentors on.

  “Huh. Are you sure you don’t want a ride?”

  “I’m positive.”

  We stare at each other for a few awkward moments longer, the cloud of change still hovering over us. I just wish I knew what it was foretelling so I could know how to proceed from here.

  ****

  I try not to think about Kade much, not since he walked out of my apartment after I set a Tormentor loose on him, but he’s in the back of my brain. Working with Lindsay doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from him in weeks. All of my texts and phone calls have gone unanswered. I’m mulling over all the information I have about him when Lindsay approaches me.

  “Hey, Ty?” Lindsay’s voice is hesitant. We’ve been on non-speaking terms for a while now.

  “Yeah?” I almost succeed in not sounding like a bitch.

  “Have you heard from Kade? I haven’t heard from him in, like, two weeks.” God, I want to throttle her.

  “No.”

  “Well, when was the last time you talked to him?” She’s fidgeting now. Her fingers nervously flick through her long blond locks.

  “A few weeks ago.” I start to go into detail about the last time I’d seen Kade, but stop myself. Not just because he’d left my apartment carrying a bag full of bloody clothes, but because I don’t owe her an explanation.

  “Maybe he went to see his family or something?” she asks hopefully.

  “I really have no idea. I’m sorry Lindsay.”

  And I am truly sorry. I’m sorry for the false feelings she’s developed for him.

  When I don’t say anything else, she goes back to her side of the bar, and we work beside each other for the rest of the night. Every once in a while, I’d look over at her and study her face.

  The change that had happened to her since she met Kade is subtle. If I wasn’t looking for it, I wouldn’t see it. It’s pretty obvious that she’s lost weight, and her make-up is more precise, like if Kade sees her as more supermodel-like, he might actually give her some more of his time. I almost roll my eyes at her stupidity, but then I wonder what changes Kade being in my life have brought out in me. The major one is that I’m fully active in the supernatural world again. But no one knows that besides me, Todd, and Kade.

  Despite, my sadness over Lindsay, tonight is probably the most peaceful night I’ve had since Kade showed up. To make matters even better, Todd cut me early so I got to go home and get a good night of sleep before I have to come back in the morning to open the bar. It’s nice to have a quiet evening. My sleep is restless though. I spend the night plagued by nightmares. In them I find myself in a burning forest fleeing from something. At first I think it’s Kade, but then sometimes it seems like I’m running toward him.

  ****

  Walking into a bar in daylight is always a bit weird, mainly because bars lack lighting. So no matter what time of day you enter it’s always dark and gloomy. Today it was double weird because instead of Todd greeting me, an old guy is standing behind the bar pouring himself an early morning pick-me-up.

  “Interesting book you got here.” He slaps my notebook on top of the counter.

  I wince. I can’t believe I’d been that careless with it. I’d been taking notes in it before the post-work rush hit last night and had just stowed it in my normal hiding spot under the bar.

  “How do you know it’s mine?”

  “Because the rest of the broads who work here are dumb bimbos.”

  “And I’m not?”

  “Not quite.”

  Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. I’m about ready to quip back at the old bastard when it suddenly hits me who I am speaking to.

  “Luke motherfucking Whittaker,” I whisper under my breath. I study him closer now that I realize who he is, trying to see if he looks like Todd, but I can’t seem to find much. Luke Whittaker is hardened in ways that Todd could never be.

  “In the flesh.” He holds out his arms, the dark amber liquid in his glass sloshing, but not spilling. “Now let’s talk about this demon problem you’re having and this fucking spell you wrote.”

  I bite my lip, wondering how much I can tell this man.

  He’s ruthless, and I’m not sure I want him involved with Kade. The idea that he’d be inhumane with Kade’s death turns my stomach sour. In the past few weeks since Kade has been MIA, again, I’ve come to terms that I like him. And it may be just a physical attraction, or something deeper on my part, but it doesn’t matter because I’m still going to kill him. Not out of anger, or pride, or any of the bullshit, but because it’s the right thing to do.

  “The demon is … difficult, and the spell was a disaster. I’ll be lucky if I get my security deposit back.”

  “Obviously he’s powerful if you’ve used these two spells on him, and he’s still breathing our air. I assume if he’d been vanquished, you’d have written his death notes?”

  I just nod. Death notes are a pretty standard practice for hunting journals. A little background, the spells used, and then a full write-up is done when we have time to stop and write it.

  “This last spell,” Luke says, “I’ve never seen it before.”

  I shrug. “I adapted a summoning spell and kinda mashed it up with a standard vanquishing spell.”

  Creating spells is something a lot of hunters have to learn how to do on their own. Witches aren’t exactly opening their doors to teach magic classes. Not after generations of being hunted by us. Using their own spells, no less. I personally don’t hunt Witches. I’ve never encountered a dark one, although I know they exist.

  “It’s a good spell, shows intelligence, and cunning. Two things needed in this life. What’s your hunting line?”

  Again, another shrug. “I’m first gen.” I hate meeting other hunters. At first I thought it’d be amazing, but hunter cliques are worse than the high school lunchroom.

  “Huh. You ever research to see if you have some natural witch in your background. A lot of hunting families do. Not that they’d ever admit it.”

  The thought had crossed my mind, but knowing how uptight my aunt is about the whole deal, I highly doubt my super-conservative family came from witch stock. Despite that I have no information, in the back of my mind, I know that my natural ability to cast and write spells isn’t the usual. So I consider myself an unofficial witch, but this isn’t information I’m going to give this man.

  “It doesn’t really matter in the end, does it? How I came to this life, just that I’m doing it?” The question is more for myself than for him.

  He takes a long, deep look at me. Like he’s trying to get a read on my soul. “Nah, not really. We’re all here to kill some baddies.” He slams back his whiskey and pours another one. “Want a drink?” he offers.

  “No thanks.” I make a move to grab my journal and shove it in my bag, but Luke blocks me.

  “We need to talk about this demon.” He’s dead serious.

  “We don’t really. I’ve got it under control.” It’s a lie and he knows it, but he doesn’t seem ready to press the issue.<
br />
  “Fine, but if that demon’s not dead soon, then it will be out your hands, little girl.”

  He lifts his hand off the top of my journal, and I throw it in my bag. When I look up I see his back retreating, bottle of whiskey in hand. He’s headed back to the office. I wish Todd had told me that his dad was going to be here. I wish I had never left my damn journal. How the hell did he find it anyway?

  I wish Jake were here.

  The thought comes unbidden into my head. The familiar pain that comes with that name flares in my heart, and I’m almost knocked to the floor by my grief.

  Jake! My brain cries his name. My heart bleeds. I haven’t thought about him in weeks. Not since the night a demon showed up at my work and asked me to kill him. Kade had wiped my grief from my mind. Those two names, two boys who turned my life upside down. So much trouble the both of them. But I know if Jake were here, he’d know what to do. He was always the better hunter.

  The bar is empty, clean, so I slap out my journal and write about Jake. Our last days together. The heartbreak. It’s therapy for my soul. I finish the tale long before the nighttime rush starts.

  The last of my tears are long gone when the crowd comes in. I plaster my bitch face on and get to work. It’s what keeps me sane. The focus of pouring drinks, of listening to everything and nothing at all.

  I’m deep in the zone, so much so that I don’t even notice Kade until he’s right in front of me. He’s still perfect. His clothes are smooth and unbloodied, pristine. He smells amazing. I can smell his expensive cologne over the sweat, beer and people. It’s intoxicating.

  “You need to get out here,” I hiss at him.

  “You’re not happy to see me?” He gives me puppy dog eyes, and pouts. It might work on other girls. Hell, it might have worked on me, if Luke Whittaker wasn’t drinking in the back office.

  “Stop fucking around and leave, Kade. It’s not safe here for you right now.”

  I widen my eyes to let him know I’m dead serious. He just laughs me off, and makes a move to go back to his table. Rashly I grab his hand and slam it into place on the bar.

  “Leave,” I growl at him.

  His answer is a firey hot glare and a ground out, “No.” He turns away from me.

  I have to fight the urge to run after him, but I’ve already drawn enough attention to us. Customers and my coworkers are already darting looks in our direction. Fuck. My. Life. I’ll just have to keep a look out for Luke and make sure their paths don’t cross. There is no doubt in my mind that Luke will recognize Kade as the demon in my notes at first glance.

  Sweat pools across my body from nerves. My hands are shaky, and I keep dropping drinks and money. I see Todd watching me now, too. It’s not until he catches where I am looking that understanding dawns on his face. He must have missed our confrontation.

  He moves over to me and grabs my hand to still my fidgeting. “Go home.”

  “I can do this!” I almost shout at him.

  I don’t know what I am talking about though. Am I talking about keeping Kade out of his father’s hands? Or am I talking about killing Kade? Or am I simply talking about doing my job?

  “Just go, and get him the hell out here, too.” His voice is harsh, harsher than I have ever heard.

  I want to tell Todd to go fuck himself. He’s the one that has allowed a demon to hunt in his bar for this long. He’s the one that let his dad here too. I want to cry that this is his fault. But it’s not. It’s mine. It’s Kade’s. It’s his dad’s.

  I tear out from behind the bar. I make my way through the crowd in a hurry. When I reach Kade’s table of college buddies I don’t hesitate. I grab the demon’s arm and haul him out of his chair before he can fight me.

  “If you wanted me this badly, you could have just texted me, doll,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  I dig my fingers into his flesh. Angry at him. Angry at the world. But mostly just angry at myself. I don’t stop to explain myself, not in the bar. Not even outside of the bar. It isn’t safe, and I’m sure my dramatic departure hasn’t gone unnoticed.

  “Tyler!” Kade rips his arm out of my hand.

  We’re about a block away from the bar now. I just keep walking. I got him out before Luke saw him. I kept him safe for now. That thought slams through my brain, stopping me in my hasty retreat.

  “You!” I turn to hiss the word in his face. My finger stabs his chest in accusation. “You have ruined my life. You have ruined everything!”

  “Your life was pretty much ruined before I came along.”

  His words slam into my gut. I clutch my stomach to cradle the wound. “You know nothing about my life, or the state of it,” I whisper.

  “Really?” It’s all he says, but the way he says it, the way his eyes look at me, I know. I know he knows that I’m not okay.

  “Todd’s dad is in town. You can’t go into the bar to work your demon mojo anymore. Not until he’s gone.”

  I want out of here, out of this conversation. I want to crawl into bed, and hide.

  “You don’t think I can’t handle another demon hunter?”

  I stop to answer him. I do it because for whatever reason, I like Kade. And I want to warn him.

  “Luke Whittaker might be able to kill you. But it won’t be right away. He’ll make it horrible. He’ll make it painful. And by the end of it, you’re not going to even have a bit of the human you pretend to be left in you. He’ll turn you into a monster, and then he’ll punish you for it.”

  I don’t wait for his answer. I run. I run fast, and hard, but it’s not fast enough. I’m still Tyler when I get home. And I’m still in pain.

  Chapter Four

  Dust particles stream along the sunshine. My hand intersects their path, and I weave it through the slats of light from the window. My eyes burn, but they return to the page that I am reading. Waves of dull pain pulse through my head, but still I push on. I seem to have a never-ending headache these days, the stress of Kade catching up to me, I guess.

  I’m feeling desperate now. I’ve spent every waking hour in the library or on the internet searching for answers, it’s all been dead ends. If Jake were here, he’d know what to do, or where to look. He came from a hunter family, and had resources that I don’t.

  The words, Jake, I need your help! fly across my notebook. Like that would summon his ghost to help me get rid of Kade.

  The quiet of the library persists, but now I hear breathing over my shoulder.

  “Who’s Jake?” The voice pours over my senses like liquid heat.

  I don’t answer Kade’s question. I can’t answer, because talking about Jake isn’t something I can do. Not now. Or maybe even ever.

  “You’re hiding something from me, little hunter girl.” Kade tsks at me as he slides into the chair opposite me.

  “I hide things from everyone, don’t feel special.”

  “You wound me.” He playfully grips at his chest.

  Our voices stay whispers, but we’re still earning glares from old patrons. I make eye contact with the closest, an old man who farts repeatedly, and roll my eyes when I see his deep disapproval. Seriously, the dude crop dusts everyone for an hour every afternoon, and he’s pissed about two people having a quiet conversation.

  “I wish I could wound you,” I answer, and close the book I was reading loudly. The great thing about living in a town as religious as this one is that the library has dusty tome upon dusty tome of religious theory.

  The bad thing is that none of it is helpful.

  “What’s the hurry? We have time to get the job done.” Kade’s finger slices across his throat, at the word “job”.

  Instead of answering him, I just stand up and throw my notebooks into my bag.

  After our last conversation, I decided that Kade was dangerous to me. Not because of him being a demon, or maybe in addition to him being a demon, but also because I don’t trust myself when I’m around him. It sounds like a cheap romance novel clic
hé, but it’s the truth. I’m broken, and using a demon as a rebound. At least in my fantasies, and that can’t be good.

  “Hey!” He yells after me as I quickly head to the doors. This is our theme. He says something in his charming seductive voice, and I walk away.

  It’s tiring.

  “Just leave me alone,” I say over my shoulder to him, and continue out the door.

  The library is only a few blocks away from the bar, and I rush down the sidewalks, avoiding everyone. I’m deep in my own thoughts all the time now. The pressure of the task ahead of me constantly throbs in my head. My heart rate spikes every time I see Todd’s dad at the bar now. I see him sometimes watching me, waiting patiently for me to fuck up or miss something, so he can sweep in like some goddamned avenging angel and save the day. Only I’ve heard enough stories about him to know that he’s not someone to trust for help.

  People who work with Luke Whittaker for too long usually end up getting hurt. Or dead.

  When I walk through the back door of the bar, I throw my bag into a locker. I’ve never used one before, since I don’t have anything worth stealing, but ever since Luke showed up I like to keep my notebooks locked up tight.

  It’s weird how this place has quickly gone from being my sanctuary to being an extension of the current hell I live in.

  I clock in and put myself through the motions of yet another night at the bar. Luke doesn’t come out to watch me like he has been lately. It’s not until a few hours in my shift that Todd lets me know that he’s gone on a hunting job, and won’t be back for a few days, or weeks.

  Todd hesitates when he hands me a sealed envelope. “He left you a note.”

  I feel unsure whether I should take it or not. In the end, I do and rip into it as soon as I get a moment to myself.

  Take care of it.

  That’s all it says, but it says enough. I can read the threat within the slant of his handwriting. Or I will, is all that’s left unwritten.