Against the vines of burning light, she stood on her two feet and took a third lunge for me. This time I couldn't fend her off. Teeth sunk into my abdomen, tearing into the side with my scar. The pain was beyond anything I'd ever felt, the sensation like hot screws driving into my flesh. One of my wings flung at her, knocking her off me while adding to the fire pressing upon her body.
I scrambled back to my feet and added distance between us. Crafting a fireball I launched it, watching the brilliant blue mesh with the white flames, burning her skin as far as bone. The creature screamed and writhed, flailing her melting limbs in a desperate attempt to reach me.
I stood there, watching the fire char her body as if I was from afar. Skin peeled back like curling paper, revealing layers of the same pus-like ooze that drooled from her mouth, while the layers of muscle and fat melted away. I stood there until nothing but bones remained. Until I was sure she was dead, never coming back. One reincarnated demon was enough for my lifetime.
I walked out of the alleyway and down the main streets, oblivious to anyone who chose to stare. Chances were my outside appearance reflected how I felt on the inside; bruised, weak, drained. The crystal wings and blue fire both had vanished, leaving a hollow feeling extending deep inside of me. My head swam with everything, repeating my alien actions. Kayden had never taught me any of those things, yet my body knew exactly what to do as if I had it built into my DNA.
Turning onto a new street, I spotted a diner I'd never seen before. Wedged perfectly between two fast food shops it looked quaint, lost in the frame of an older time. I walked inside and slid into a nearby booth, keeping my head down to avoid any more stares.
My ribs ached, and as I yanked away the fabric of my torn shirt I quickly understood why. A half-crescent shape of teeth marks framed my colored scar. The skin around it was inflamed and tender, probably infected. Oddly enough, not a single drop of blood escaped from the wound. It wasn't nearly as painful as Chase's assault had been on me, either. I wondered if there was more than one type of demon blood.
A waitress came over to the booth, a bored expression glued to her face until she took in my disheveled appearance. Her amber eyes enlarged in a mixture of horror and curiosity. "Dear God, are you dying?"
I let out a weak, low laugh. "Most likely. But until I do, can I get a cup of coffee?" I thought about it for a moment. "And use your phone?"
She gave a jerky nod of her head, dark brown curls bouncing. "You'll have to come to the counter to use the phone, it's corded. Just don't tell my boss. We're not supposed to let customers use it unless it's an emergency."
Biting back the urge to tell her that this definitely was an emergency, I forced a smile in place of my sarcastic remark. She turned to leave as I stood to follow her, but I stopped. Between the back half of her uniform swished a long, thin red tail coated in small sharp barbs. The second I blinked, it vanished. Maybe the poison was already taking effect.
My fingers ran over the countertop as the waitress came over with the phone and a cup of coffee. Setting both down, she gave me a small smile before heading over to the other end of the diner, taking an order of an elderly couple. I punched in Jayson's cell number, and he picked up on the first ring.
"Essallie?" He sounded shaken, and I could practically picture the look of worry on his face.
I took a deep, steadying breath. "Yes, it's me."
And just like that, he started spouting words. "What the hell is going on, Essie? Abigail told me you're fine, that your phone died and Kayden was on his way to get you and bring you home. You're not telling me something, I know it. I called the police up there and they're on the way to you house and-"
"Jayson."
"Essallie-"
"Jayson, listen to me." I closed my eyes, envisioning him as if he were right beside me. "I need you to go home. Please, don't drive here. I've lost too much, I can't bare to lose you too."
Silence stretched on the receiving end for over a minute before he started to plead. "Come home, Essallie. Please. I don't want to lose you, either. We can do this together, whatever it is. I meant it when I said you could tell me anything."
I covered the receiver and took in a shaky breath. He couldn't get involved in this, that much I knew. He'd only be fodder against the creatures searching for me.
Removing my hand from the speaker, I kept my voice low and calm. "Everything will be okay. Just please, go home. Be safe, keep close to Abigail. I promise to tell you as much as I can, soon."
"Essie, please," he begged, and I nearly shattered. But I held my ground. Seconds that felt like centuries ticked by as he realized I wasn't going to budge. "Remember what we used to tell each other before nightfall? Our little safe-keeping phrase?"
I let out a weak laugh, hot tears escaping from my eyes. "Batten the hatches, love you bunches."
"You remember. Don't ever forget, I love you bunches. Be safe."
"I'm so sorry, Jayson. Goodbye."
I placed the phone back on its base, staring at the receiver with a bitter and empty feeling filling my chest. My heart felt as if someone had struck it with a mallet, steamrolled it, and tossed it into a hole to be filled over in wet cement.
Tearing my eyes from the phone, I stole a quick glance around the diner. Most of the booths had been quickly filled during my phone call; groups of families and friends huddling over cups of coffee or hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, laughing and smiling. Sharp gusts of wind rushed into the room every time someone came in, filling the room with a mix of hot and cold air. My heart let out a painful beat. Until now those smiling faces could have been Jayson and I, two people blissfully unaware of the horrors lingering in the shadows of another world pressing against each other.
"Miss, mind if I put the phone back?"
I jerked my head back to the phone, a hand resting lightly above it. A busboy stood behind the counter, his face caught between a mixture of shock at my appearance and fear that I might snatch the phone. But it neither the boy nor the phone that left me staring. It was the purple horns, a pair of them protruding out of his forehead, that caught my eye. And this time when I blinked, they were still there.
"What are you?" I asked.
The boy looked taken aback. He laughed nervously, a hand reaching up to touch his horns reflexively before he controlled himself.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Miss," he said.
My gaze turned harder, lips pressing into a thin smile as a light bulb turned on in my head. "I think you do." I brought my hands in front of my chest, keeping them just in his eyesight. Slowly I opened them, revealing a flicker of blue flames cupped inside. "You understand very well."
The container of dishes nearly slipped out of his hands and crashed to the floor. "Please don't do that- you'll scare them-"
"Like your horns would scare them all?" I extinguished the fire between my hands and traded for a small flame cradling my index fingernail. The flame lazily spread halfway down my finger until I stopped it. "I bet you'd hate to have everyone here know you're a demon of some sort. Or worse, that you talked to the dreaded half-angel everyone seems to hate."
The effect of my words was instantaneous. Color drained from his face, his eyes bugging out of their sockets with paranoia. "Please, what do you want?"
There was only one thing in life I wanted, and that was to be free of being half of some creature. But for the moment I'd settle for some information I was sure the little scaredy cat would cough up. "You answer some questions, I'll leave. Easy as that."
He nodded enthusiastically. "No problem, sure."
"Why are there so many supernatural creatures here?"
His eyes ran across the room quickly, no doubt making sure we were the only two in the conversation. "No offense, but you do know where we are, right?" When I shook my head, he started to chuckle. "This is a corner of the demon end of New York City. You find any mortals around here, least not a mortal who isn't tied to one of us."
"But, the groups-" I started
to say, turning around for a moment to look at the people in the diner. Sure enough, the busboy was right; no one in the diner was human, all wore different levels of glamours. A collection of various colored scales, feathers, tentacles, and more stood out like large billboards against the bleak, common backdrop of the diner. People who I had originally thought to be normal were demons, faeries, and succubi.
"Okay, that takes care of that embarrassing question," I mumbled under my breath, turning back to face a grinning busboy. His horns had grown considerably since I had pointed them out. Now they stood about six inches off his forehead, purple leeching into his skin and filling in the corner creases of his eyes. "Next. Is there a... demon who dresses in all black? With a red heart on the shoulder?" I traced a heart on my right shoulder to show him.
He nodded, completely nonchalant about it. "It's a private demon, someone who's hired personally, like a mortal PI. They're called Venator Privatus, but we just call them the Vens." Scratching his head, he nibbled on a side of his lower lip for a moment. "There's usually two symbols on their sleeves. One is the heart, that shows they're Vens, and the symbol underneath tells you who's hired them."
So someone had hired a Vens to capture me? What, were we in some communistic society where you could pluck someone off the street and no one question you? I marveled in horror at the thought. Running a hand through my short hair, I tried to think what Kayden would say if we were both stuck in this predicament.
Wait a minute. Why did I need to know what Kayden would do? I was my own person, after all, wasn't I? Did I not have the ability to make my own choices in life? I didn't need someone to lead me by the hand and decide what I needed to do. I would be strong, and stand up for myself. This was my destiny, and I would take it head on.
I seized the first idea that came to mind and spoke. "You have a name?"
"Darren."
"Alright Darren, how about do me one more favor and then I'll vanish from your hair, er, horns," I amended, staring at the rapidly evolving cones on his face. More purple spikes had started to protrude from his face, forming half circles around his ears like decorative piercings. "With this being such a high-supernatural region, I'm sure there's a portal nearby."
He nodded again. "There's two. One at the local club, Sphynx, but that doesn't open until nightfall. The second," he trailed off, then looked down away from my gaze. "I can't take you to."
"Why?"
"It's in my boss' office." His face looked strained. "He'd freak if I let someone use it- it's supposed to be private."
"Private shmivate. I know the family that owns control over all of them, and their son." I refused to say Leo's name aloud, worried it might start a wave of emotion I couldn't control. Instead, I transferred my possible sadness into anger. My gaze narrowed to thin slits. "Denying me access could revoke his right to even have the portal. You wouldn't want me to report your boss, would you?"
Darren's eyes widened, and I swear I saw him flinch in fear. His voice was barely audible. "He'd fire me, banish me from the quarter." It didn't take long for the resolve to form in his face, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'll do it. Quickly, though, before he comes back from his luncheon."
I nodded and followed him through the double doors leading to the back half of the diner. The kitchen appeared as if it was in anarchy, food flying left and right as two men with seven hands each tried furiously to keep up with different orders. Timers blared left and right, pots bubbling over the lids as several other bodies scrambled to put plates in order and serve them out.
"Guess it was a good thing I didn't order food?" I joked over the noise, following Darren through the kitchen to a mahogany door at the end.
Over the sound of someone swearing in a guttural language, he laughed. "Not to shoot my boss in the foot, but I wouldn't eat here if I could help it." He fashioned out a little brass key to unlock the door, swinging it open and gesturing to me. "Ladies first."
Following him inside, he shut the door, sealing all the noise out with it. I turned on a table lamp for a little more light. The office had no windows, no real natural light to open up the room. The carpet beneath us reeked of mold, the walls cold and damp to the touch. Sparse furniture of a desk, chair, and bookcase were the only three things in the room.
Darren motioned to the bookcase. "This is it. But I don't know what one opens the switch."
I came to stand in front of the shelf, running my eyes over the covers and spines. Most of the books looked ordinary; self-help, succeeding in business, some on supernatural beings and identifying factors. But one small, cobalt blue book stood out against the rest. Just like the one at the bookshop Leo used to own.
I looked over my shoulder and gave Darren a wink. "I've got it from here, no worries."
He nodded, offering me a small smile. "Before you go, some advice?"
"Yeah?"
"Be wary," he said, something in his tone instantly worrying me. "You're stepping into the lion's den unprotected."
I had to laugh; was everyone going to tell me what I already knew? It had been clear early on that I would spend the rest of my life alone, fighting to stay in one breathing, living piece.
"Please, give me some credit," I replied with a smirk. "You ever seen what these hands can do?"
He fumbled for words, but I didn't give him a chance to answer. Stepping into the light, gravity tossed me through the portal, landing me in the middle the last place I'd ever expect to be.
CHAPTER FOUR
A LIFETIME OF YESTERDAYS
I was pretty sure I landed on a body.
Everything around me was dark, a bottomless pit with no light. For a moment I had thought for sure I had gotten lost to the time space continuum or some awkward conundrum, when something beneath me moved. And groaned.
"Jipskie, what the gravy-and-potatoes are you doing?" The body, a male judging by the voice, hissed. "Are you supposed to be on?"
"What the hell is a Jipskie?"
The person stopped moving. "...who the hell are you?"
"I could ask you the same thing!" I started to squirm, catching my shoulders on the sides of the small and cramped space we were stuck in. "Stupid portal and it's stupid faulty crap-"
"Stop it! Hey, knock it off! You're going to break it!" He sounded fearful. Hands clumsily came into contact with my face as he tried to stop me from wiggling around.
"Break what?" I managed to get out before the door burst open. A blast of lights clouded my view as we tumbled onto the floor in a mess of limbs and fabric.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Blinking, my vision started to clear, putting me face-to-face with at least a dozen people all in various stages of attire. Crowds of people carrying props, dabbing on makeup, and marking the floor in chalk hurried by our group huddled in the middle, unmoving. A rich, burgundy velvet curtain hung behind all of them, but did little to dull the noise of a growing crowd anticipating a good show.
Oh crap. I was on a stage.
"Well?" The same guy who had asked what was going on snapped. He had tan, olive colored skin covered in bursts of black polka dots, and eyes a shimmering ocean green that matched perfectly to the ruffled blouse he wore. Placing hands on his hips, he glared. "Tusk, who's your lovely little companion and why is she intruding on my show?"
I had almost completely forgotten I wasn't alone. Half-buried in the waves of multi-colored fabric surrounding us sat a boy. He looked no younger than a teenager with his wide, open violet eyes and smooth pink lips, his hair a shocking mess of black and silver spikes sprouting from his head.
The boy, Tusk, spoke in a panicked rush. "I don't know, sir. I was just getting into the cabinet for my scene when she appeared from thin air!"
"I thought all portals had designated locations?" Speaking up, I started to peel off the various heaps of fabric weighing me to the floor. "You know, solid bases so people could come and go as needed?"
Overly-flamboyant man snapped his fingers, which I noticed were more
like claws than actual human digits. "You used Frederick's portal, I see." He let out an irritated huff, rolling his eyes in maximum drama queen style. "I thought I had gotten through to his thick skull that he can't use it for the next eight weeks!"
Eight weeks? I thought about asking him why it had to be eight weeks, when it sort of occurred to me that I didn't exactly need to know. Or hear his sob story about how some riffraff was disgracing his preparing performance. Getting to my feet, I ignored the widening eyes and small gasps few had tried to contain over seeing my appearance.
"My stars, you're that, that," one of the female stage performers started to sputter. Her lips curled into a sneer just as she found breath. "That Nephilim from the circus!"
My face blanched. Eyes either narrowed in disgust or widened in shock as recognition crossed their faces. "Well, trust me when I say I have no intentions of bothering you past this. Err, break a leg?" I offered the colorfully dressed man an awkward handshake and tried not to flinch while touching his clammy claws. Shuffling past him and the rest of the frozen pack, I quietly slipped out the nearest exit and onto the streets of Charon.
Two weeks hadn't been enough time to wash away the mesmerizing effect the place still had on me. Like marbleized version of Tokyo, Charon held the appearance of an ethereal palace, a serene setting stretching into a never-ending horizon. Tall, intimidating towers of sparkling pearl and creamy white ascended into the skies above, clouds their only neighbors. Even below on the ground it sparkled, homes of all shapes and sizes the same smooth and cool marble as above. If fairytales had a home, this is the place I would have imagined they'd all join together.
My heart still called out to the decadent beauty, like a lonely soul would to its other half. I knew deep down I belonged here, belonged with the faeries and demons and whatever else existed in the magical end of things. It's just that I never felt welcome.
I stared down both ends of the street in search of a street sign, anything to tell me what and where I was. Instead, I was greeted with cold grey buildings. I found it odd; all of the buildings I had seen before in Charon were sparkling white, a glimmering marble like none other. Yet every building on this street was a light, bitter grey. It was almost as if the buildings were dirty and needed a good scrub.
Obumbrate (The Illumine Series) Page 5
