Exiled - 01

by M. R. Merrick

  ~~~~~~

  Chapter 8

  The rain stopped as soon as I got home. Figures, I said to myself, walking up the four flights of stairs. My shoes squeaked with every step and my clothes were water-logged. I couldn’t wait to change.

  Mom was sitting on the couch with a book in hand. “It must be really coming down out there.” She was trying – and failing – to conceal her laughter.

  “Very funny,” I said

  A towel, a pair of gray cargo pants and a white t-shirt later, I was dry and dressed. I threw on a black hoodie to try and rid myself of the chill.

  Our apartment looked even smaller than usual after being at Marcus’s. An old couch, an even older chair and a coffee table filled the living area. The walls might have once been white, but they were now tinted with nicotine stains from the previous tenants, and did little to set off the decor. An ancient TV sat on the floor, but it rarely worked.

  “Where’ve you been?” Mom asked.

  There was no easy way to tell her, so I threw it all on the table. “Do you know Marcus Starkraven?”

  She didn’t look as shocked as I’d expected. She paused for a moment. “I do. He’s a good man.”

  “So you know he’s not dead?”

  “I’ve known Marcus a long time, Chase. We’ve been in contact over the years.”

  “Did you know about Rayna too?”

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know: about the Circle, me, and your father as well.”

  I couldn’t do anything but listen. She was about to tell me either something I wouldn’t expect, or something I wouldn’t like. Maybe both.

  “The Circle is made up of people from all over the world, and not everybody has the same ideas as to what the Circle should be anymore. I was exiled with you not because your father suspected me of being unfaithful. I knew things about your father – and the Circle – that I wasn’t supposed to. Over the years, a lot of us learned that the Underworlders weren’t all soulless demons, as we were brought up to believe. A small group, including Marcus and me, came together to oppose the council. We thought we could work together to achieve a common goal. The council, as you can guess, doesn’t care much for opposition and didn’t think much of our plea.”

  “So what happened to Marcus?” I asked.

  “The night that Marcus disappeared, he and your father were on a hunt, but your father wasn’t hunting Underworlders. He had gotten wind of a rumor about a hunter having impregnated a demon. When he found out about Marcus having befriended a witch, Rayna’s mother, he could only assume that Marcus was the ‘traitor’. Riley was furious. He took Marcus out and tried to kill him. Marcus escaped, but your father had hurt him badly enough that he believed he was dead.”

  “What happened to Rayna’s parents?” I asked.

  “Rayna’s mother disappeared that night, to keep herself and unborn Rayna safe. But she made the mistake of coming back, thinking that after nine years the Circle would have forgotten about her. But the Circle doesn’t forget, and that was the night Rayna’s mother was killed. When Marcus found Rayna, the two of them disappeared. Nobody knew where they went or what had happened, not even me. Marcus didn’t know who he could trust, and his first instinct was to keep Rayna safe. As for Rayna’s dad, nobody knows what happened to him.”

  “I can’t believe you kept all this from me. You left me to think that everything the Circle taught me was right, and believe it was my fault we were exiled. I’ve spent all this time thinking I was a disappointment,” I said.

  She sighed. “You were angry at yourself and the Circle. I thought if I told you, you would turn your anger on me, and I couldn’t bear to lose you too.” I started to walk away, but she reached for my arm. “Chase, by the time you stopped being angry, I didn’t want to tell you because I feared it would bring all the pain back.”

  “It’s been a long day. I’m going to lie down.”

  “Please don’t be angry with me.”

  “I’m not angry. I just need some time to figure things out.”

  “Can I just say…”

  “What?” I asked, unable to veil the hostility in my voice.

  “Please give Marcus’s offer some consideration.”

  “You knew?”

  She nodded. “He called after you left and told me. I’m sorry for the way this has all come out. I spent so long trying to figure out how to tell you that you found out in the worst way possible.”

  “You can say that again,” I said, disappearing into my bedroom.

  I fell into my bed and stared at the cracks in the ceiling, my mind swelling like a balloon. The old thoughts and ideas engraved in my head were some of the only constants in my life, and now they had to fight these new ones or be erased.

  I was thrilled when the phone rang and it was work calling. It was supposed to be my day off, but I took the shift without a second thought. Work would distract me, and the overtime wouldn’t hurt.

  ~~~~~~

  Chapter 9

  I got off shift after midnight, and what had turned out to be a busy night was just what I needed to clear my head. The walk home on the warm summer night, however, gave all my thoughts plenty of time to rush back.

  I chose a different route home than usual. It took longer to go through the park, but after running into Marcus, Rayna and the vampires last night, I was hoping that wandering off the beaten path would save me some bruises.

  Halfway home, I heard strange noises and a tingle trembled down my spine. I cursed myself for taking the long way. I couldn’t win.

  I saw the silhouettes of people and slipped off the path to join the shadows. I thought it was demons beating the crap out of someone. Plenty of Underworlders would do that for kicks, but when I heard the voice of the victim, I knew that wasn’t the case.

  “I sw- sw- swear I t- told you what I know.” The stutter was easily recognizable as Willy’s and I got the feeling of déjà-vu. Hearing him plead with his attackers made me feel sorry for him. It was only earlier today that I had a blade to his throat, and he still had a shiner from his last run-in with hunters. This guy was having a worse week than I was.

  I approached the scene and saw three men taking turns kicking Willy, who was on the ground with his back against a tree.

  “Hey,” I said.

  All three of them turned and stared at me.

  “Keep walking, buddy,” the one in the middle said. “Wait a second. Chase? Chase Williams? Well, I’ll be damned.” It was Brock at the center of this assault.

  Brock was a hunter a few years older than me, and a fire elemental. He had always been broad shouldered, but he’d bulked up since I saw him last. His red hair was trimmed into a crew cut over the familiar pale, freckled face. It had several scars, but the one across his left eye was new to me and ruined some of the effect of his bright green eyes.

  Brock and I had never gotten along. We both had different ideas about how to get things done. This scene was a good example of the way he did things. The other two hunters were younger than me. I recognized their faces but I didn’t know their names. When I’d been part of the Circle, I never paid much attention to the younger ones.

  “Been a long time, Brock,” I said.

  “That it has, brother. That it has.”

  “I’m not your brother, not anymore.”

  Brock’s smirk made his face scrunch up and he gave his half-snort laugh I hadn’t missed.

  “That’s right, you’re the son of Riley Williams, exiled by his own father for being a disgrace.” He slugged one of the others guys in a joking way and they chuckled with him. Anger shot through me and I squeezed the blade in my hand.

  “Whatcha got there, a knife?” he laughed. “What, you’re saving demons now? Pathetic. You’re still a hunter, Chase, even if you’re not in the Circle.”

  “Last I checked, hunters fought evil. They don’t torture the innocent,” I said.

  “This…thing is hardly innocent, but you’re right, things have changed. You wo
uld know that if you hadn’t come up short,” Brock said.

  I took a step towards him and looked over his shoulders at Willy.

  Willy’s chameleon skin cycled through different colors, trying to deflect any attention it could away from him, until it found one that let him blend in with the tree. His button-up shirt was torn and his jacket was pushed up above his shoulders. Blood ran from both nostrils, trailed down to a busted lip and dripped off his chin. His left eye was swollen shut.

  “If this is what the Circle has become, then I’m happy not to be a part it.”

  “Bullshit! You would come back in a second if anybody wanted you,” Brock retorted.

  “I took an oath to protect the innocent and so did you.”

  “He’s a demon, Chase. We kill them; it’s what we do.”

  “Maybe, but this isn’t killing, this is torture, and I won’t stand by and watch it. What did he do to deserve this?”

  “He didn’t give me what I wanted.”

  I could sense Brock trying to conjure his element and I laughed. “You and I both know you aren’t strong enough to create fire; you can barely control it.”

  “Last chance, Chase. Leave,” he said.

  “I’d be happy to, but I’m taking him with me.”

  “So, being out of the Circle, you’ve turned to the Underworld. That’s weak, brother, but so be it.” He reached behind him and came back with a Zippo. He flipped it open, and as the spark lit I could feel the oncoming heat.

  I dropped to my knees and rolled to the right, taking cover behind a tree. The entire area lit up with the glow of silver and green flame.

  “Things aren’t the same as when you left, brother. I’m stronger now than ever before. I don’t need to create fire. I just need to take it with me.”

  I peeked around the tree to get a feel for the battleground, but the flash of silver and green was all I saw. I slipped back behind the trunk and the fireball just brushed my skin, leaving a patch of raw flesh.

  A grunt came from behind me and I risked poking my head back out. Willy had jumped onto Brock’s back, wrapping both arms around his neck. He wasn’t doing much but hanging on, and it occurred to me then that Willy didn’t know how to fight. He was strong enough to pick up a truck, but he didn’t know how to use that strength.

  I took the opportunity for what it was: a distraction. I squeezed the handle of my blade and moved towards Brock. The butt of the handle made a loud crack as it hit his cheek bone and forced him down on one knee. With Willy still clinging, he lost his balance and fell.

  The other two hunters sprang into action. The first wasn’t as fast as me and I dodged as his knife came down near my chest. I countered with a kick. My heel hit the back of his head and sent him face-first into the dirt. The other boy was behind me before I could move and his fist hit the back of my head. I felt my skull crack and I braced myself with my arms as I hit the ground.

  The pain in my head was sharp and black dots swarmed in my vision. I ignored the agony and pushed myself up. I was halfway up when the knee hit my face and pushed me into another fist. This one was covered with shining silver knuckles, and the cold metal made a spine-chilling noise as it hit my face. The momentum of the strike pushed me back and I was forced to curl up in self-defense. A flurry of fists and feet pounded my back and it took all I had to resist arching with pain and exposing the rest of my body.

  It seemed like forever before the kicking stopped and hands grabbed my arms, pulling me up. They lifted me in a quick, smooth motion that made the blood rush to my head. I fought to keep from passing out as I stood in a swirl of light and dark spots. I could feel blood trickling down my cheek and nose.

  Brock stood in front of me and Willy was behind him, lying motionless on the ground.

  “You always have to be the hero, don’t you Chase? Too bad you didn’t choose a better cause. Protecting demons is unbecoming of your heritage.”

  “Unbecoming? You know better than to use big words like that, Brock.”

  He leaned back and launched his fist into my mouth. My lip exploded and more blood poured down my face.

  “What are you looking for?” I said, spitting blood on the ground.

  Brock leaned forward and drove his thumb into an apparent cut in my eyebrow. I ground my teeth and muffled a scream. “Blood,” he said, showing me what was dripping from his finger.

  The pain faded but the fresh blood ran into my eye and forced it shut.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Exactly that,” he said. I watched him slide something onto his hand, the light it reflected glinting off the silver knuckles. “We just need to find the right blood.”

  All I could see with my one open eye was Brock’s smile before his fist crushed the side of my face. My vision went spotty again and the pain vanished, leaving only darkness to engulf me.

  ~~~~~~

  Chapter 10

  The moment my eyes opened the pain came back in full force. Every part of my body throbbed. Even my aches had pains. I was on my back and could see an unfamiliar ceiling above me. In a panic, I tried to sit up, but the throbbing in my head was too much and forced me back down.

  I took a deep breath, and after a few mental curses and a lot of effort, I moved my head. I discovered I was on a couch, and the table beside me held old ice cream buckets full of dark liquid. I couldn’t see anything else in the room other than an old armchair, covered in floral designs so faded they were colorless, with stuffing hanging out here and there.

  I tried to speak but all that came out was a cough, making me nearly pass out again from the pain in my head.

  “Whoa, ta- take it easy, man,” a voice said.

  The words echoed around my head, but once I saw Willy they made sense. He walked out of the living room and returned with something resembling water. I wasn’t in a position to be picky so I drank a few gulps. It tasted terrible, but the liquid was a relief to my cracked throat.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Willy smiled, but it looked like it caused him pain. His face was cut up and one eye was still swollen shut. “That was a hell of a bea- beating you took for me. Nobody’s ever stood up for me before,” he said.

  “Yeah well, I’ve never stood up for an Underworlder before, so I guess it was a first for both of us.” After another drink of the water, the hoarseness of my voice started to fade.

  “Here,” he said, reaching into one of the pails. He produced a cloth that had blotches of brownish red on it and handed it to me.

  I took it, but I wasn’t sure where to put it first. My whole body hurt and I didn’t know what was cut, bruised, or broken. All I knew was pain. I settled for putting it above my eye, since thanks to Brock’s thumb I knew about the cut there.

  “Where are we?”

  “This is my apartment. I know it’s not much but it’s the only safe place I could think of.”

  “Mine doesn’t look much different.”

  A loud buzzing sounded through the room and more pain sheared through my head. Willy jumped up from the coffee table, moved to the wall and pushed one of the buttons on an old box that barely hung there.

  “Hello?” Willy said.

  A deep voice crackled over the speaker. I thought the guy said his name but I couldn’t understand it. Willy pushed another button and went to the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry, it’s somebody we can trust,” he called.

  The knock at the door came and Willy came back into the living room, followed by a giant beast of a…woman?

  She looked a century old. Long white hair came down to the middle of her back and her face was aged with an impossible number of wrinkles. A white knitted sweater and green dress pants covered her frame. Her skin was pale gray, which made the blue of her eyes seem unusually bright.

  Without saying anything, she reached into an enormous gray purse and took out a pack of cigarettes. She enjoyed a few puffs of one before she spoke, and her voice sounded like it belonged to a man with a crushed l
arynx. I’d bet she’d smoked two packs a day for each of the hundred years she looked.

  “So you called me here, boy. What do you want?”

  I stayed silent and averted my eyes. She stared at me when she spoke and it made me nervous. I killed some pretty nasty demons regularly, but this old lady was scaring me.

  To my relief, Willy answered her. “I t- told you, I nee- need some help.”

  She snorted and took a drag of her cigarette. The look she gave me sent a shudder down my spine as smoke curled out of her nostrils. “He’s a hunter. I’m not helping him,” she said. She made the last word sound like something disgusting; Rayna had the same talent. So far, my batting average with new people wasn’t getting any better.

  “I know he’s a hunter, Grams, but he saved me from the other hunters.”

  They went a few minutes without speaking, but from the way they stared at each other I started to think they were having a silent conversation.

  “Fine,” she said, taking a final puff of the cigarette before she dropped it in one of the buckets of bloody water. “Clean this up,” she demanded.

  Willy didn’t question her and cleaned off the coffee table in a rush. Grams put her gray purse on the table and opened it. She fiddled with a few small bottles and set them out on the table. Next came some different stones, including quartz, amethyst, and tiger’s eye, then jasmine, garlic, and some herbs I didn’t recognize. She pulled out a knife and gestured to Willy for a clean bowl. I was surprised that she didn’t have a bowl in that monster of a purse, and more so, that she thought Willy would have a clean one.

  He did come back with a clean glass bowl and handed it to her. He stood awaiting more orders but only earned a glare. “Go sit down.”

  Willy moved to the tattered chair, watching his Grams mix ingredients. He observed closely for a few minutes before he stood up suddenly. “Grams, no! I want you to help him, not kill him,” he said smoothly, with a confidence that surprised me.