Demon Disgrace (Resurrection Chronicles Book 8)

by M. J. Haag

  She giggled.

  “Unless I start serving raw meat, I doubt I’m in danger. But because you’re so sweet, here. You get a second one.”

  I inhaled every last gooey crumb then licked the plate, which she quickly grabbed from me.

  “That’s gross. Go grab your bow and get out of here.”

  I grinned, sucking the sweet residue off my fingers as I left the counter.

  “Please wash your hands before you touch that pretty bow.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  She grinned at me, and I scrubbed away the gooeyness before grabbing my hand-carved bow and headed out the door for practice with the girls.

  The sun was shining, the wind just warm enough for me to smell a hint of spring on the air, and the snow was melting from the blacktop. A great day to be outside. Soaking it in, I smiled at a few of the fey and hurried toward the meeting spot.

  Merdon was already there, leaning against a house not too far away.

  “Sleep in?” Brenna asked.

  “I’d hardly call this sleeping in,” Angel said with a yawn.

  “You’re the one who wanted to meet this early,” I said.

  “Next time, remind me how much I didn’t like it.” She grinned and lifted her bow. “I’m ready to be deadly with this thing. Or, at least, look intimidating as hell before my target figures out that I can’t hit a thing.”

  “Hannah, see if you can pick up from yesterday. I’m going to work with cupcake over here.”

  “Cupcake? Well, I like you too, Brenna,” Angel said with a wink at the girl.

  “I can hear the cellophane crinkling when you move. You’re probably not hitting anything because you’re afraid of smooshing your food.”

  Amused by their banter, but not letting it distract me, I focused on what I wanted to hit, waited for the wind, then exhaled, and released. I missed, but not by much. Leaving the bolt where it struck, I tried again. And again. And again, until my arm cramped with strain and I had to take a break to stretch. Merdon and Shax were gone.

  When I looked over at Angel, she was eating a cupcake.

  “What?” she asked. “The baby was hungry.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not fey, and I’m not buying.”

  She grinned.

  “Shax doesn’t buy it either, but he doesn’t try to stop me from eating. He likes that I’m getting rounder and that the baby kicks when I’m well fed.”

  “Maybe the baby is kicking you to tell you to stop,” Brenna said with a smirk.

  “Be jealous, girls. I don’t mind.” She licked her fingers clean, wiped them on her pants, then went back to her bow.

  Movement down the road caught my eye before I could do the same.

  “Are they carrying someone?” I asked.

  Brenna stood beside me for a silent moment.

  “It sure looks that way, but something’s not right. Does that person seem stiff and lumpy?” she asked.

  “Are you sure you’re talking about a person?” Angel asked with a snigger.

  “I’m starting to notice a pattern in your conversation,” I said. “It’s either sex or food with you, isn’t it?”

  “On good days, it’s both.”

  Grinning, we watched a trio of fey jog our way. Brenna’s observation about the person over Merdon’s shoulder proved correct. Only, it wasn’t a person.

  “Do we even want to know why you have a scarecrow?” Brenna asked.

  “It’s not a scarecrow. It’s a knife dummy. Ryan suggested it.”

  “Shax, is that thing wearing my comfy sweat pants?”

  “I will find you comfier ones. I promise.”

  She gave Brenna and me a dry look.

  “He calls them my ‘no sex’ pants because when I put them on, he knows I’m not in the mood for ‘fun time.’”

  I covered my mouth to hide my grin at Shax’s guilty look.

  “Baby, I’m not mad,” she said, sidling up to him. “But you are going to have to make that up to me. It’s not okay to get rid of my pants because you don’t like them. I wore those when the baby was moving around inside of me and making things uncomfortable. They gave me comfort. Something your magnificent manhood can’t do when the little monster’s doing its best to make me miserable.”

  “I’m sorry, my Angel. I didn’t understand.”

  “I know. It’s okay. You can make it up to me later.”

  He was so wrapped around her little finger it wasn’t even funny. The sad thing was that he seemed to be loving it.

  I glanced at Merdon, who was watching me closely.

  “I think the real question we should be asking is, ‘why do you have a knife dummy?’”

  “A bow is good,” Thallirin said. “It can be used from far away.” He looked at Brenna. “Distance is safety. But sometimes, distance can’t be kept. I want you to learn to use a knife.”

  My brows rose.

  “A knife?” I asked Merdon.

  His grunt paired with his expression spoke volumes. Yes, we’d be learning with a knife, and he didn’t like it. He was worried I’d do something stupid.

  “Don’t look so skeptical,” Angel said. “I bet this will be fun. Are you going to show us how to throw it?”

  “No,” all three of them said at the same time.

  “We will show Brenna and Hannah how to hold it and how to use it to kill an infected.”

  Angel frowned.

  “Just Brenna and Hannah? What about me?”

  “It's too dangerous, my Angel.” His gaze flicked to her belly.

  “Don’t be naive, Shax. Do you think an infected will be like, ‘Oh, sorry, Angel. Didn’t see that you were preggers. I won’t chase you and try to eat your face anymore.’”

  Brenna quickly turned her face to look at the wall behind her while Angel scowled at me.

  “There's no need to be mean.”

  “So I've been told. But I'm not trying to be mean. I'm being honest. Learning to use a knife on an infected is a survival skill everyone should know.”

  “And,” Angel said loudly before looking at Shax, “Hannah is right. I’ve had to run from infected more times than I can count. I'm getting too big to outrun anything now. Even my bladder these days.”

  “So didn't need to know that,” I said under my breath.

  “It'd be smart for me to learn something that could save us both.”

  She patted her stomach, and I knew she'd won without even having to look at Shax's expression. She was carrying the ultimate weapon for swaying fey thinking.

  We stood back as the guys set up their dummy a fair distance away from the dildo pile. When they had it securely mounted to the rod Thallirin had rammed into the frozen ground with scary ease, Merdon removed a knife from his belt and held it out to me.

  I looked at the blade glinting in the sunlight and felt guilt and fear surge forward.

  “Focus, Hannah,” he barked.

  “I am,” I snapped. “Does this mean I get my razor back?”

  He said nothing, just continued to offer me the blade. I snatched it out of his palm and marched over to the dummy. Letting my audience fade from my mind, I tried to imagine the dummy was a real infected. If it were coming at me, what would I do?

  I planted my left hand in its chest to maintain distance and thrust the knife upward into its stuffed head.

  “Good,” Merdon said.

  And it was good until I tried to pull the knife free, and it snagged on the cotton batting.

  Just like Katie, my mind screamed.

  My lungs ceased. I released the blade as if it had burned me and stumbled back a step.

  Hands gripped my shoulders. A face crowded my vision.

  “Stop,” Merdon said, giving me a slight shake. “You are safe, Hannah. You are here with Brenna and Angel. Breathe.”

  I lifted my hand, showing him the empty, clean palm.

  “It stuck.” The words trembled on unspent tears. “Just like last time.”

  He pulled me into his chest, hi
s arms wrapping around me. His fingers delved into my hair, rubbing my scalp and playing with the curls in a soothing way.

  “Leave the past,” he said softly. “Stay with me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I leaned into Merdon, sheltered from the memories by his embrace. Slowly, the panic and fear faded, and my breathing steadied.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I nodded but didn’t pull away.

  “I heard there’s a fight club forming,” a voice called.

  Lifting my head from Merdon’s chest, I saw Eden and Ghua approaching along with a few other fey. Reluctantly, I stepped away from Merdon as Angel waved and answered.

  “You’re at the right place. We’re shooting dicks and cutting cotton. You want in?”

  “Heck yes!” Eden grinned even as Ghua winced.

  I stood back and let the other girls have a go at the dummy as the gathered fey gave pointers to help with technique and execution. When it was my turn again, I was better prepared mentally and managed a few slick jabs.

  Knife work wasn’t too difficult. Eden, Brenna, and I all had real world experience. We already knew there were only a few stab points that would work on an infected.

  “We should teach them to remove the stupid ones’ heads,” a fey suggested.

  “Not going to happen,” Eden said. “Way too much strength needed and far more splash-goo than any of us can handle.”

  Angel gagged and held up a hand.

  “No more,” she begged.

  “Sorry. Didn’t know you were that sensitive.”

  “I think it was the cupcake I ate. Too gooey.” She gagged again.

  While Shax rubbed her back, the others debated what we should learn next.

  “Hand to hand,” Merdon said finally. “The infected are getting stronger, faster, and smarter. We kill the ones we find. But if we miss any, the females need to know how to face them.”

  His gaze slid to me.

  “And they need to know how to fight in the snow and cold.”

  Aw, hell. Outside basement time? I thought. At least I had more bite padding on.

  “Okay,” I said. “What are the rules?”

  Less than an hour later, I was panting as I watched Brenna circle me. When Merdon said “fight,” I’d thought I’d be fighting him. No. Instead of the fey coming at us, they had us girls fighting each other. Even Angel got in on it, but she had special rules. Like no knocking her down because no one wanted her to go into labor yet.

  “You know,” she said from the sidelines. “Add some jello and fewer clothes, and we could charge for this.”

  My gaze flicked to the fey spectators who’d gathered and were currently cheering us on. That momentary distraction was all Brenna had been waiting for. She launched herself at me. As I fell back under her weight, I was already planning my move. Using the momentum, I kicked my legs up and tumbled us so she was on the bottom.

  I snapped my teeth in her stunned face then grinned at her.

  “You win,” she said. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

  “I’ve been tossed around a lot these last few days.” I lowered my voice even though I knew all the fey would probably hear me anyway. “A glowing ass is motivation to learn.”

  She cringed sympathetically.

  As the loser, she stayed in the muddied circle and waited for Eden. I gratefully moved aside and rubbed my neck. While that move had done the trick, it sure did a number on my body.

  Strong hands closed over my shoulders and began to rub. I almost groaned.

  “Thank you,” I said, glancing back at Merdon.

  He grunted.

  “That was some pretty impressive work,” Nancy said from nearby.

  Uan held her in his arms. The pair had arrived not long ago. I was sure word was still spreading about our training sessions, given the slow trickle of fey that continued to appear.

  “Thanks. I’ve had a good teacher.”

  She smiled and nodded.

  “The fey sure know what they’re doing when it comes to infected and fighting. I’d like to talk to you if you have a minute.”

  Something about the way she said that last sentence made me feel like I was about to get some really bad news.

  “Uh, sure?”

  I glanced back at Merdon, who seemed clueless as well.

  Uan carried Nancy toward the road, and I followed. When I saw her chair ahead and a shoveled path down on the blacktop, leading away from where Nancy lived, I knew this walk had been premeditated. As soon as Uan had her comfortably resting in her chair, he jogged back to the circle of fey.

  “Brenna’s told me what Merdon’s been doing,” Nancy said without preamble. “She doesn’t like it. And I agree. It doesn’t sound good. But sometimes we don’t need good. Sometimes, we need a wakeup call.”

  She propelled herself forward, and I kept pace.

  “The old me would have minded her own business, but times have changed. We’ve changed. There are less of us to watch out for one another. So, if what I have to say pisses you off, that’s fine. Tell me. But, I’d like you to hear me out.”

  “Okay,” I said when she looked at me.

  “I don’t know what Brenna’s said about what happened to me, but I know she told you I had an accident and I drank a lot because of it. That’s oversimplified. The accident took my ability to walk, but left me alive. Not everyone who was involved was so lucky. There was a young boy. He’d only been driving for a few months. A car hit me. I hit him. He died. I didn’t.

  “People kept telling me that it wasn’t my fault. That there was nothing I could have done differently. But, fault doesn’t matter when it comes to survivor’s guilt. I couldn’t stop the what-ifs. What if I’d stayed home that day? What if I’d sent Russ out instead of me? Would he have been able to avoid what I hadn’t? What if I’d stopped at the store first? What if I’d let the lady go ahead of me at the post office? The questions about what I could have done or should have done differently don’t stop.”

  “Ever?” I asked.

  “They fade. They become less frequent, but I still think of them. Not so much about the accident now but about what happened to Russ and Brenna because of those men.”

  She stopped moving and looked up at me.

  “What you’re feeling is normal. It’s not easy. Some days it’ll feel like you’re tearing yourself up from the inside, but that’s normal. Let yourself feel it. It’s the only way to move past it. Drinking, no matter how much it calls to you—and trust me, it’ll still whisper to you on your bad days—isn’t the answer.”

  I looked off at nothing for a minute, letting what she said bounce around in my head.

  “Survivor’s guilt?”

  “Yep. That’s what my fancy therapist called it. Don’t try to deal with what you’re feeling alone. Talk to someone who’s willing to listen.”

  I focused on her.

  “You?”

  She gave me a wry grin.

  “Everyone needs a mama-bear in their corner. I’m more than willing to fill in for yours because I’d want someone to do the same for Brenna if she were as lost and suffering as you are, honey. I’m here if you need me. To listen. To tell a fey to back off. Whatever.”

  She reached out and clasped my hand, her grip strong.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  She nodded, turned her chair, and headed toward Uan.

  I wasn’t ready to tell the world what I’d done, but knowing that Nancy understood my pain helped me feel a whole lot less alone.

  “You’re up,” Brenna called when I got close.

  The fey cheered, and I groaned.

  The fey needed a new hobby.

  I lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, my belly pleasantly stuffed from another amazing lunch. After the morning I had, I should have been sleepy. Instead, I was bored.

  “If you keep sighing like that, he’s going to find something for you to do,” Emily warned me softly.

  The “he” in question w
as currently absent from the house, which was probably part of my boredom. Not that I wanted Merdon annoying me. I just wasn’t sure what to do with myself when he wasn’t bossing me around.

  “Nancy was there today. She asked me to go for a walk with her and offered to be my surrogate mom.”

  Emily set down her book.

  “Wow. That was really nice of her.”

  “Yeah. Brenna talked to her about how Merdon’s treating me. Nancy seemed less concerned about that and more concerned about—”

  I broke off, not sure exactly what I wanted to say to Emily.

  She remained quiet, waiting for me to sort it out.

  I sighed and rolled so I was fully facing her.

  “She talked to me about survivor’s guilt. She had it with her accident and again when her husband was killed and Brenna was taken. I didn’t know that was even a thing.”

  “Is that what’s going on, Hannah? You feel guilty for surviving?”

  The pain crawled in. It would be so easy to say yes and to try to absolve myself of everything. But, Nancy was wrong. She just didn’t know it. There was fault. Katie was dead because I’d let her die.

  “I wish the answer was that simple,” I said. “But, it’s not.”

  “Merdon’s right,” she said, looking at me. “When you’re idle, your thoughts eat at you. As much as I hate you two fighting in the basement, it keeps you focused on things you have control over rather than dwelling on a past you can’t change.” She gave me an apologetic look before scaring the shit out of me by yelling for Merdon at the top of her lungs.

  “Was that really necessary?” I asked, sitting up, heart pounding.

  Before she answered, Merdon burst through the door. His fluid movement didn’t pause as he surveyed the room and located me. His gaze swept over my face as he came to a stop on his knees before the couch.

  “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “She’s not fine,” Emily said. “She’s doing that thing you said she does.”

  “What thing?” I asked.

  “You lose yourself to the past,” Merdon said. “The past is dark and no place for you.”

  He stood and extended a hand.

  “Come.”