Demons

by Heather Frost

  The Demon shrugged helplessly. “I'm sorry. I wish I knew more. But it's just a rumor. According to Philippe, several have been found dead. The higher-up Guardians have been hiding the bodies—and the truth—in order to stop panic from spreading among their ranks.”

  “But Guardians… they have no weaknesses,” Grandpa muttered. “No soft spot, like the Demons. You can't kill a Guardian.”

  “Maybe it's a false story—most rumors are groundless. I'm just passing along the word.”

  It was obvious he wasn't hiding anything—he'd told us everything he knew. But I wanted more details—something definite. If Guardians were indeed dying… that would explain the crazy one. But could it be true? And if so, what did that mean for Toni and Patrick?

  Clyde suddenly straightened, waving a quick hand around the room. “Planning on buying anything, Henry?”

  Grandpa wavered. “I'll scan the books,” he finally said, before wandering in that direction.

  Clyde looked to me, offering a wide, helpful smile. “What is it you're interested in? I assure you, I have it all. Instruments, computers, jewelry, movies… Whatever your heart desires.”

  I wanted to question him more about the rumor, but I knew that the conversation had been dropped—there was nothing further to explore on that front. And so I did the polite thing and glanced around the shop, before I focused down at the counter, peering into the glass case.

  An idea slowly grew, and I quickly told him what I wanted. Then, as an afterthought, I asked, “Mind if I look through your movies?”

  Our purchases were bagged and paid for. (Luckily he took a debit card, since all my cash was gone, courtesy of Toni.) Once back in the car, Grandpa spoke immediately. “Kate, I know you're going to be tempted to tell Patrick and Toni about Clyde, and the things we talked about. But I need you to promise me that you'll protect Clyde.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he overrode me. “I know—what's the point of getting information if you can't share it with the Guardians? Now, if we'd learned something concrete, I'd let you call Patrick immediately. But Clyde rarely deals with solid facts. It's speculation—something I've used to steer my Guardians in the right direction.”

  “But what about that rumor? About Guardians dying?”

  He shook his head. “A rumor. Nothing more. There is no evidence. The only thing that would come of your telling them is trouble for Clyde. Trust me on this. He's not a danger to anyone, but some Guardians would see things differently. They could end his business—disturb the easy life he's cultivated for himself. Besides, when Guardians start paying attention to a Demon, other Demons follow the gaze. If they learned what Clyde's been doing for me, there's a good chance he'd be killed. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

  He kept glancing back and forth between the road and me, but I knew I had his full attention. “Grandpa, I need to tell them about this rumor. Last night—the mission I was on. We were searching for a Guardian Jack saw. This Guardian claimed he was dying.”

  Grandpa nodded. “It happens sometimes. Some Guardians buckle under the stress—”

  “Patrick thinks he really was dying.

  ““Guardians can't die.”

  “You sound like Toni.”

  “Kate, Demons have been afraid of Guardians for thousands of years, simply because they cannot die.” He shook his head. “I don't think they've suddenly turned vulnerable. Unless you know something I don't. Patrick and Toni—their regenerative abilities still function?”

  I nodded. “Yes. But—”

  “Please, Kate. I'm asking you to save a man's life. Promise me you'll keep Clyde and his information a secret.”

  I knew I didn't have a choice—and a part of me recognized that he had a point—and so I agreed, though somewhat reluctantly.

  Satisfied, he nodded, and that was the end of the discussion.

  Back home, I carried my sack from the pawnshop up to my room and set it on my bed. I closed the door, then I pulled out my phone and made the call I'd been dying to make all day.

  Patrick answered on the fifth ring. “Kate, I was hoping you'd call soon. I was getting worried.”

  I walked over to my bed and sat on the edge, a small smile on my face just from hearing his voice. “I wasn't the one who was shot last night,” I reminded him. “I'm the one who's supposed to be worried. Did I wake you?”

  “No. I was in the living room with Toni, and I left my phone on my desk.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Much. Still a small headache, but that's probably more from lack of sleep than anything else. How was school?”

  “Good. Slow, without you.”

  “I'm the lucky one—I got to sleep through most of it. Still, I think even in my dreams I was missing you.”

  I fingered the plastic bag. “So… I was thinking that—if you're feeling better—maybe I could come over tonight.”

  “I'd like that.”

  “I know for a fact that Lee would love to hear from Toni. She could use some cheering up.”

  “You want Toni out of the house?” His voice was amused.

  “Well, I don't know if I'd call the warehouse a house, but, yeah—that's the idea.”

  “Should I be scared?” There was a flirtatious air to his lilting accent, and I felt a grin stretching my face.

  “Absolutely. Are you busy around seven?”

  “I think I can clear my schedule for you. I'll make sure Toni knows the time.”

  “I can't wait to see you.”

  “I'll be counting the minutes,” he promised.

  We said our good-byes quickly, and I headed downstairs, hoping we had a cake mix in the pantry.

  Just before seven I pulled up to the warehouse. As soon as I shut off the car, I ran fingers through my hair, which I'd left down. I'd had a quick shower in an attempt to get the cigarette smoke off of me, and I hadn't been able to blow-dry it completely so it was still a little damp. I knew the heat would dry it soon, and hopefully he wouldn't notice before then.

  I was wearing a nice pair of dark skinny jeans and a dark-blue top. A pair of black sandals wrapped around my feet, and a simple silver chain circled my neck. It wasn't an elaborate look, but it showed a little effort, which was just what I wanted.

  It was hard juggling everything, but at least Grandma's cake pan had a lid, so I could stack the plastic container holding dinner and the two wrapped presents on top. I shouldered my purse and carefully closed the door with my foot.

  It was a balancing act, trying to get the front door open, but by the time I'd crossed the floor to the large staircase, Patrick was coming down the stairs to meet me, his smile still tired but pleased nonetheless.

  His eyes grew confused when he caught sight of everything I held, and he hurried the last of the way toward me. “What's all this?” he asked, taking everything but the cake from my arms.

  I grinned up at him, standing two steps above me. “Happy birthday,” I told him, my voice echoing in the deserted room.

  His brow furrowed in confusion. It took him a split second to find his voice. “It's not my birthday. Not even close.”

  I shrugged. “I figure I've missed enough of them—it's time I threw you a little party.”

  He frowned, staring down at me. “You didn't have to do any of this, Kate.”

  “I want to.” I glanced around him, further up the stairs. “Come on—I'm starving.” We walked side by side up to the second floor, and I opened the door since I was holding fewer objects. He thanked me and walked into the room, depositing the stuff on the low, scuffed coffee table. I was right behind him, and I set the cake down. Through the plastic lid all I could see was a bunch of the blue frosting.

  I turned toward him, seeing his eyes wandering over me. The blue in them was excessively bright tonight. “You look beautiful, Kate,” he finally whispered, holding out his arms.

  I embraced him carefully, worried about putting too much pressure on his chest. He held me tighter, proving that everything was fine. I sig
hed in a mixture of relief and happiness, then leaned up to receive his kiss.

  We stood there holding each other for a warm moment, until my stomach grumbled loudly. Patrick broke his lips away, a small and breathless laugh escaping. “I'm sorry. I'm being rude.”

  “It's your honorary birthday—you can do anything you want,” I told him.

  “Hmm… you tempt me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my mouth, teasing my lips. Finally he pulled back and frowned at the coffee table. “Kate, you really shouldn't have—”

  “Is Toni gone?”

  Patrick sighed and reached up to run his fingertips against the side of my hair line. “Yes. He and Lee went out to eat, and then I believe he was going to take her bowling.”

  “Toni bowls?”

  “There's not much of anything that Toni doesn't do.”

  “And you?”

  “I'm not quite as adventurous… I'm pretty boring, actually.” He kissed me again, and my verbal response was slower than it should have been.

  “Absolutely boring,” I agreed at last, my lips pressed easily against his, my hand sliding along his jaw.

  He shivered at my touch, then reached up to grab my hand. He held it tightly and offered me a dazzling smile. “As it's my honorary birthday, I'd like you to eat something.”

  “Do you like grilled cheese sandwiches?”

  “They certainly smell good,” he answered. He squeezed my hand once and then released it. “I'll get some plates.”

  “You splurged and bought some, huh?” I teased, bending over to peel the plastic lid off the dish holding the warm sandwiches.

  “You'd be surprised what good deals await those who shop discount stores and garage sales.”

  “That's what Lee tells me all the time.”

  He wandered back with two plates, then went back to get a couple water bottles. We sat on the couch, but before I handed out the sandwiches I reached out and plucked up the first present, which was thin and rectangular.

  “Here—I can't wait anymore.”

  “You're more impatient than I am.” He laughed lightly, taking the present from my hands. I watched as he carefully tore the paper, moving slowly just to torture me. Finally the wrappings fell away, and he was holding a Disney DVD—Peter Pan. He glanced up at me, his eyes shining. “You remembered,” he stated simply.

  I smiled and curled my legs up onto the couch. “Your favorite book. I thought maybe you'd want to watch it tonight.”

  He nodded. “I'd like that very much. Thank you.”

  I snatched up the next present—smallish and boxy. He sighed when he felt the weight of it. “Kate, you shouldn't have spent all this money on me.”

  “Patrick, stop complaining and open it already. If it makes you feel better, I got them used.”

  He looked somewhat appeased, and I watched his face as he intently unwrapped a plain, old cardboard box. He hesitated, and in that moment I knew that he'd guessed it. His fingers moved even more slowly than before, until finally he was lifting the corners of the flaps and reaching inside. He pulled out a silver digital camera and cradled it in the palm of one long hand, simply staring at it, unable to speak.

  I filled the short silence. “There's a charger inside and an extra memory card. There wasn't an instruction manual included, so you'll just have to learn as you go. It looked fairly simple, though.”

  He glanced over at me, his brown hair falling into his eyes—eyes that seemed bluer and clearer than ever before. I'd never seen this depth of emotion on his face, and if I hadn't known him so well, I might have wondered if he was somehow upset by the gift. But he was overwhelmed—speechless.

  “Thank you,” he finally said. He placed the camera almost reverently on the coffee table then set the box aside as well. He reached for me, pulling me close in a tight embrace there on the lumpy couch. I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else.

  “Thanks,” he breathed into my ear. He rubbed my back lightly, then pulled away, the smile back on his face. “Let's get you something to eat, huh?”

  I'd forgotten napkins, and I guess Guardians didn't really care about frivolous things like that—so we just ate quickly, ignoring the greasy fingers. We talked while we ate—avoiding the most obvious topics of Far Darrig and insane Guardians.

  In my attempt to get to know him better, I asked Patrick some more questions about himself. I learned during this process that, as I'd rightly guessed, his favorite color was indeed blue. He also loved spring, the rain, and Sundays.

  We swapped some silly childhood stories, and by the time our meal was over, we were both relaxed and amused. His eyes kept wandering to the camera, and I knew he was almost afraid to start using it. So I decided to help him break it in.

  I set my dirty plate aside and opened up the cake. I'd forgotten candles, and that was another thing that Guardians didn't seem to stock up on. And so I made him pretend they were there anyway, and though he was reluctant to get his picture taken, I made him blow his imaginary candles out while I leaned back and snapped a few pictures.

  He set the cake aside, but I kept taking pictures of him. He frowned and tried to snatch it away from me, but I just leaned further back, laughing and shaking the camera in the process of yet another picture.

  Thus began the camera war. He eventually snagged it, after unfairly tickling me. Once it was in his hands, he darted from the couch and around the coffee table, taking picture after picture of me trying to steal it back from him.

  We finally called a truce and set aside the camera, for the time being. We settled back on the couch, and Patrick turned on the laptop while I cut the cake. We ate his first birthday cake in over two hundred years and watched Peter Pan on the laptop from Terence, sitting contentedly side by side.

  The sun went down, and Patrick reached to switch on a dim lamp. I cuddled next to him, and he put his arm around me, pulling me closer. He was completely absorbed in the movie, and I think he loved every minute of it. We were near the end when the door opened, and Toni walked in.

  He ambled over, watched the screen for a moment, then straightened. “You guys are so cool,” he muttered sarcastically.

  “How was your date?” I asked, glancing up briefly.

  He nodded. “Good. Lee is probably the funniest girl I've ever met.” He leaned closer to the coffee table, squinting at the cake. “‘appy Birday atrick.’ “He read the two lines, or what remained of them. “Huh. I never knew. What is today, anyway?”

  “It's not really my birthday,” Patrick told him, his hold on me tightening infinitesimally, his eyes still glued to the screen.

  “Oh. That of course makes total sense.” Toni jerked a thumb at the cake. “Are you guys going to finish that?”

  “You're not seriously thinking of eating the whole thing,” I said, casting him a worried look.

  He shrugged and scooped up the pan. “It can't hurt me,” he reasoned simply, before turning and marching toward his bedroom.

  “Bring that out before I leave!” I warned him.

  He waved a hand but didn't even bother to turn around.

  I sighed and settled closer to Patrick. He shifted his arm out from behind me, instead curling it around my knee, which was bent next to him, foot braced on the edge of the couch. I tipped my head against his shoulder and sighed easily. “I'm so happy right now,” I confided in a whisper.

  I could almost sense the smile that tugged against his lips. “You have that same effect on me, Kate.”

  I wrapped my arms around his arm that surrounded my knee, and we settled comfortably against the back of the couch.

  A second later Toni reemerged from his room, and we glanced up at him. “Forgot a fork,” he explained, walking toward the corner of the room that was their kitchen.

  We focused back on the movie, and Patrick spontaneously craned his neck to place a kiss on the top of my head.

  There was a flash of light, and Patrick and I blinked quickly.

  Toni cheered triumphantly, standing on the ot
her side of the coffee table, fork and camera in hand. He must have snatched it when he grabbed the cake. “That was perfect!” He fairly crooned. “I couldn't have planned that any better. I was hoping for vacant faces, but wait until I show your grandpa, Kate. He's going to love this intimate moment.”

  “Toni,” Patrick said, voice level. “Leave the camera and get out.”

  The Hispanic Guardian sighed but did as he was told—surprisingly. He must have really wanted to eat that cake.

  Patrick reached out to lift up the camera, and he quickly pushed a few buttons, finding the way to view the saved pictures.

  I watched the display as the picture Toni had taken flicked into place, and I was surprised by how much I fell in love with the candid shot.

  Patrick humphed beside me. “I was going to delete it, but…

  ““It's beautiful,” I finished for him.

  He nodded once. It depicted us on the couch, holding each other. The lighting wasn't perfect, but it was sufficient. Patrick's lips were buried in my hair, and my face was angled toward him. Our arms were wrapped around each other, and the emotion of the moment was almost tangible.

  “I would love to paint this,” he whispered.

  I rubbed his arm. “Maybe you'll get some canvas and paints for Christmas,” I hinted.

  He groaned. “Enough, Kate. You've done enough.” He kissed me for real this time, and then we finished the movie without any other interruptions.

  Once it was done, Patrick went to get the cake pan from Toni while I stacked up the dirty dishes. Patrick stopped my attempt at cleaning, and I obediently grabbed my purse. He walked me out to my car, and the night was so quiet and peaceful that the last thing I wanted to do was leave. But I knew Grandpa would be anxious until I got home.

  Thinking of Grandpa reminded me of Clyde. Which in turn reminded me of the other secret I was keeping from Patrick—Terence's phone call.

  He seemed to sense my mood change, and he rubbed his free hand against my arm. “Hey, what's wrong?”

  I looked out at my car, which was only a few long steps away. I couldn't tell him the things I was honestly thinking about, so I decided to bring up the one thing I could. “Grandpa pulled me aside after school. He was pretty upset about my leaving last night,” I hedged.