Demon Evolution

by David Estes

  Chris looked around. “Where’s Taylor?” he asked.

  Gabriel swiveled his head side to side while saying, “What do you mean? She’s right beside me…At least she was…”

  “She’s still looking at the baby gargoyle,” Kiren said, looking behind them.

  Sure enough, Taylor was crouched, low to the ground, her hand reaching through the bars of the Prince-Belinda-Rocky cell. Quickly realizing the situation, Chris yelled, “Taylor! Don’t move. Pull your hand away slowly and then get to your feet and move away quietly.”

  Anticipating Gabriel’s move to save his girlfriend, Chris put his hand out and stopped him. “Any sudden movement may provoke the parents. Wait for her to get clear.” Not looking convinced, but trusting his friend who clearly had more experience with gargoyles than he did, Gabriel remained still, but was poised to spring into action if necessary.

  Taylor said, “Don’t worry, it’s okay, guys. They like me.” She had turned her head to look at them when she said this, but now turned back to the cage. She spoke in a gentle, high voice, like you would speak to a baby, or a dog. “Aren’t you the cutest little thing? I want to take you home with me. Protect you from these mean angels and demons,” she cooed.

  They watched in surprise as a tiny head poked through the bars and Taylor stroked it softly. Her mannerisms appeared as normal as if she were petting a dog; only she was rubbing an animal that could only be described as grotesque when it was full grown, albeit rather cute at this early stage in its life.

  “Stay here, guys,” Chris instructed, making eye contact with Gabriel to ensure he would obey the instruction. Gabriel looked worried, but his eyes showed that he would let Christopher handle the situation.

  Chris walked slowly over to Taylor, who was now sitting cross-legged on the ground. Every few steps he paused to survey the scene ahead and ensure that the parents were emotionally stable. To his surprise, when he got close enough to see completely into the fiery chamber, the parents seemed completely at ease, more so than when they were merely being observed. Now, Taylor was actually handling their young child, and they seemed to be fine with it.

  Taylor turned, and seeing Chris, said, “What do they eat, do you think he’ll eat out of my hand?”

  Bewildered, Chris replied, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “It will be fine, trust me,” Taylor said.

  Sure, trust the human girl who had only had two previous experiences with gargoyles, both of which resulted in the gargoyles trying to assault her and having to have their wings forcibly removed, Chris thought. But then again, these ones did seem to like her. Chris tiptoed over to an arched opening that was hewn into the rock wall. He tried to be as quiet as possible because, while he was feeling more and more comfortable that Taylor was not in any danger, he was still worried that his presence might anger Prince or Belinda or both.

  From a small storage room he retrieved a few strips of cured, preserved meat. As he handed the meat to Taylor, his eyes vigilantly jumped between Momma Gargoyle and Papa Gargoyle, watching for any signs of a change in their moods. “They’re carnivorous,” he said. “They go through a lot of meat and typically we only feed them at regular meal times, but I guess we can make this one exception.”

  “Cool, it’s like beef jerky,” Taylor commented, accepting the strips of meat.

  “It’s actually very similar,” Chris agreed. “We give them large steaks for dinner, but these are more of a treat for good behavior.”

  Taylor held out a ribbon of meat and Rocky eagerly snapped it up. His pointy fangs made short work of the beef and he swallowed with a gulp, seeming almost human in the process. He enthusiastically pushed his chin further through the bars. Taylor did not disappoint, flipping shreds of meat into Rocky’s open mouth. Even if her aim was a bit off the mark, Rocky would, with lightning quickness, adjust his head to the side or downwards to catch every single one. The game continued until all of the meat had been devoured by the scaly eating machine.

  “You are such a good little eater,” Taylor clucked. She rubbed him behind his very human-looking ears. “Can I keep him?” she joked.

  Chris laughed. “No, but he does seem to like you. I would be happy to bring you down here to see him from time to time, although I must warn you, he will grow up fast and he may lose interest in you soon.”

  “Sounds great, thanks, Chris,” Taylor said, standing up and following him back to the others. Rocky’s parents had barely moved during the entire exchange.

  When they approached their friends, Gabriel strode forward and hugged her tightly, “You had me scared there for a minute, Tay.”

  Pushing him away, she looked up at him with amusement. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, it was fine.”

  “You didn’t realize you were dating the gargoyle-whisperer, did you, Gabriel?” Chris joked.

  Gabriel chuckled, but still looked weary, stressed, like the whole incident had aged him. Wrinkles formed on his brow and at the corners of his eyes. “Once again, I am duly impressed,” he said.

  “Don’t be,” Taylor said, “I just felt a connection with the little guy and acted on it. No big deal.”

  Gabriel said, “Let’s get outta here. The celebrations upstairs will be starting soon and I would really like to see a few of my old friends now that they’ve recovered.”

  They all agreed that they had had enough of gargoyles for the day. Taylor winked at Rocky as they passed by his family’s cage on the way out and she swore he winked back at her. “Did you see—?” she started to ask Sam.

  “See what?” Sam asked.

  Not wanting to sound crazy-obsessed with the baby gargoyle, Taylor thought better of her question. “Never mind, it was nothing.”

  Sam looked at her like she was crazy anyway, and then put an arm around her, walking several strides while hugging her. “You’re a funny one, Taylor Kingston, but I’m glad we’re here together.”

  “Whatever,” Taylor said, trying to maintain her unemotional facade. Sam rolled her eyes.

  Gabriel reclaimed his walking partner from Sam and she went back to Chris’s expectant hand. Taylor watched as a truly happy expression formed on Sam’s face when her fingers intertwined with her boyfriend’s. Under the firelight, Taylor’s hand found Gabriel’s too, on her terms this time, and she looked into his deep, black eyes, which were rimmed by a mere sliver of blue. She marveled that she and her best friend had found such true and unconditional love at nearly the exact same time in their lives.

  What would the future bring? She dreamed of a normal, happy life. Well, almost normal. A few midnight flights on Gabriel’s back, using Chris’s ability to teleport to tropical dream vacations—they would have the best of all worlds: human, angel, and demon, in perfect harmony. And that future could be theirs! It could be theirs if they could just survive the present.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Andrew paced across his brightly-lit room. Ever since he and the other Archangels had left Mount Olympus, a sense of foreboding had filled his every waking moment. Mount Olympus was the name given to the compound that Dionysus had constructed to protect the Archangel Council from the demons. As long as the Council and Dionysus as its Head were there, sufficiently removed from the front lines, Andrew had felt he was able to control the situation. Since they had moved to the mountain, just a stone’s throw from the battlefield, Dionysus had acted with reckless abandon—attacking in broad daylight within sight of humans, conducting a spy witch hunt, and executing prisoners. After the latest Council meeting, Andrew was convinced he had completely lost his mind.

  It probably all started when Gabriel Knight—the golden son, he who delivered the one, the future of the angel cause—had betrayed Dionysus and helped the girl to escape. On that day Dionysus’s eyes were wild with anger, like Andrew had never seen before. The evil lurking behind those eyes must surely have been born from the Devil himself. That’s when Andrew’s fear began to rise.

  For years he had known that the Head of the
Archangel Council was evil, and thus, Andrew’s conscience led him to a secret meeting with Clifford Dempsey, the head of the demon Elders, where he pledged himself to the demon cause—the protection of humans. Over the last decade, Andrew had passed on information to the demons that was so valuable that he may have singlehandedly prevented Dionysus from taking control of the world on numerous occasions.

  The most important piece of intel was The Plan, Dionysus’s ultimate goal, which was known only to the Council and to a handful of other key angels, and thanks to Andrew, of course, known to the demon Elders. Knowing that with the demons out of the way, Dionysus would kill off most of the human race and enslave the rest to use as a source of eternal life for the angels, had helped provide the demons with a significant amount of motivation to win the Great War.

  When Dionysus began the angel spy witch hunt, Andrew became fearful that he, too, would be discovered. He was not fearful for his own life, for he would gladly give it for such a noble cause, rather, he was fearful for the lives of his family: his wife, Sera, a human, and their three angel children, aged seven, four, and two. Dionysus had surprisingly shown mercy, if you could call it that, to the families of the angel spies who were discovered, by not convicting them to the same fate as their loved ones. However, Andrew knew that Dionysus would not be so merciful if he discovered the level of his treachery. His life, and the lives of his family, would be forfeit. An example would surely be made of him: Traitors Will Be Punished!

  Andrew had been too scared to try to pass a message on to the demons about the planned New Year’s Eve executions and related trap. But after seeing what evil had almost transpired on that night, how close the angels had been to winning their prize, he promised himself that he would find a way to protect his family while still fighting for what he believed in.

  The first step was honesty with his family. He told his wife everything, and although their children were still quite young, the eldest being seven, she agreed that they could not risk their children’s recruitment into the army. Preparations were made quickly, and Andrew’s family, under the guise of a vacation, was moved to a safe location, far away from their home on Mount Olympus. In the coming weeks, new identities would be created for them and they would be moved again. All of these preparations were necessarily done over the phone, as Andrew would arouse suspicions if he took a trip away from the mountain during these pivotal days. While he knew that all phones within the mountain were monitored by Dionysus’s personal security squad, he had a “clean” phone that he was able to use to avoid detection.

  Getting his family to safety greatly reduced his fears, and now his attention was focused on the situation at hand. He continued to pace back and forth, thinking of how to proceed. If his room had had a carpet or a rug, rather than the shimmering white tiles, he surely would have worn an anxious path in the fibers. He did his best thinking while pacing.

  Three hours earlier, the Council meeting had ended and Andrew had rushed to the bathroom, to vomit up the delectable lunch that was served prior to the meeting. The corn on the cob, Greek salad, and garlic shrimp, each made a disturbing reappearance; thankfully, he was able to reach the porcelain halo before the fireworks began. Going forward, he vowed to chew every bite into a liquid mush before swallowing, regardless of how delicious the food was, or how hungry he was.

  Ever since his stomach calmed down though, he had been pacing…and thinking. No matter the risk, he needed to contact the demons before Dionysus executed his newest strategy. He couldn’t allow the girl’s father to be used for bait—it would destroy her.

  Chapter Thirty

  The after-New-Year’s celebration went off without a hitch, and although everyone knew that somewhere deep within the angels’ mountain some kind of a nasty plan was being concocted, for this night they were going to celebrate what they had to be thankful for: namely, their lives, and in particular, the lives of the twenty-six angels who had been recovered.

  The feast took place in the rarely used Grand Dining Hall, which had been speedily decorated for the occasion. For their guests of honor, the recovered angel spies, a special table was set up at the front of the room. While light was still provided in classic demon style—by torch lamps and candles rather than by fluorescent bulbs like the angels—to commemorate the event, brilliant white wings and glowing statues had been placed throughout the Hall.

  To kick off the evening, Clifford gave a wonderfully inspiring speech, during which he more than once embarrassed Taylor, but also showed great gratitude for the sacrifices made by everyone in attendance, from the angel spies all the way down to the demon weapon technicians. He demonstrated to everyone what a true and pure leader he was; there were no threats or spats of anger like his angel counterpart, only a genuine belief in their cause and the people carrying it out. Applause and cheers followed nearly every line of his unprepared speech, as every ear appreciated the goodness in Clifford’s words.

  He ended with a surprising prophecy. As he spoke, it was like he was in a strange trance—eyes staring straight ahead, rather than his typical, engaging style. His normally active hands hung limply at his side. The boisterous audience fell completely silent for the first time all night, captivated by the words that followed.

  “The Great War that has plagued us for fifty years will not last another year,” he declared. Clifford’s voice was booming, echoing throughout the Hall; he had no need for a microphone or a bullhorn. “It is not clear who will be victorious, only that the end is near.” His words had an ominous ring to them and more than one face flinched upon hearing them.

  As quickly as his stone face had appeared, it retracted, leaving the animated and friendly face of the demon Elder. He looked down for a moment and then looked up sharply, his eyes clear and focused. “I don’t know why I said that, only that it is true. I don’t know if we will win the War, but I know that it can only be accomplished by the combined effort of those in this very room. It cannot happen by demons alone, but must be carried forth by demons, angels, and even humans.” He winked at Taylor and Sam when he said the last part. “Raise your glasses,” he commanded. Thousands of goblets went into the air. “May this be the year that the Great War is won, that humankind is protected, and that we begin a period of peace amongst all who roam this great earth!” Cheers erupted throughout the crowd, glasses clinked, and drinks were drunk. At least for this moment in time, Taylor felt a hope that had previously eluded her. It would be short-lived.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  After a night of food, drink, and fun, the six friends were walking back to their rooms with their arms around each other. Gabriel had had a few too many drinks and was talking more than he had in the last six months combined.

  “I’ve done a losht of bad thingsh in my time, and sho have the rest of the angelsh, but the demonsh have done shtupid shtuff, too.” His words slurred together and Taylor grimaced. She had never seen him like this. It was not attractive.

  “Shut up, Gabriel. No one wants to hear it,” Taylor said, tired of listening to his crap.

  Ignoring her, he continued. “Like, who shent that Jonash guy to UT, anyway? He almosht got Taylor killed with that damn gargoyle.” Taylor cringed at the reference to Jonas. He was definitely a mistake that the demons had made. Sending him and his posse to the University of Trinton was the main reason that Gabriel had felt backed into a corner, forcing him to give her up to the Archangel Council. But that was in the past now.

  “He was just there to check up on Chris. The demon Elders were worried that I wasn’t sufficiently protected from the angel Council.” Taylor hoped this reminder would quiet her drunken boyfriend.

  “That’s not exactly true,” Kiren interjected.

  “What do you mean?” Taylor asked.

  “Well, you know how I told you that I was there to keep an eye on things from right next door to you, as Marla’s roommate?”

  “Yeah,” Taylor said, a bad feeling washing over her.

  “Just before Jonas a
rrived, I sent a report to the Elders. I only stated facts, like how Gabriel was still dating you and spending more and more time with you, how it seemed like Chris and Gabriel had become friends, that kind of stuff. I guess the Elders interpreted it to mean they should send someone in, and they chose Jonas.”

  Gabriel stopped in mid-stagger. He glared at Kiren. “I’ll kill you,” he said, perfectly coherent now. Despite his drunkenness, he moved with lightning speed, his powerful fist crashing into Kiren’s jaw. She flew backwards, like she had been hit by a freight train.

  As soon as she realized what was happening, Taylor chased after him. Gabriel was poised to attack again when she reached him. Grabbing his clenched arm from behind, she said, “Stop it, Gabriel. Please, no more.”

  Coiled tighter than a spring, Gabriel’s reflexes were faster than the sound of her voice reaching his ears. His elbow flung backwards, defending himself against what his muddled mind believed was an attack from behind. Taylor gasped as his powerful elbow connected with her chest and her body was thrown backwards.

  Neither Chris nor Sampson had been idle during the sudden change in mood. Before Kiren’s body ever reached the ground, the latter had caught her as gracefully as a wide receiver catching a touchdown pass. In one motion, he cradled her, placed her on the ground, and then stood over her, taking on a boxing stance, ready to defend her in the event of a subsequent attack.

  Chris, on the other hand, put an arm across Sam’s body, to protect her if the fight spilled towards them. However, upon witnessing Taylor’s limp body being propelled towards the rough, rock wall, he teleported out in front of her, estimating the path of her flight. When he reappeared, Taylor smashed into his stomach, and despite his readiness, he toppled over from the impact. He grunted as she landed on him, her fall cushioned by his strong torso.