Personal Demons

by Rachel A. Collett

  I growled, changing directions. Fine. If I had to face him, I would lead him to an unoccupied area and do it there, unless there was a back exit that would allow me to escape. My heart hoped for the second possibility as I opened the door of the adult section. The lights had been kept off to discourage people from entering into that room.

  I ran to the back of the space, hoping to lose Jonathan in the maze of aisles and books. Additional carts, tables, and chairs had been placed and stacked into this area to make room for the exhibitors, giving me abundant places to hide if I wanted to try. I took a left turn then ran to the back and took another right. No exit. Just a door to a locked office.

  “Idiot.” I searched along the ceiling for a red exit light, finding one just as the squeak of a door hinge alerted me to an intruder. I ran to the end of the aisle next to me and tried to push myself back into the darkened corner, hoping desperately to disappear into the shadows.

  Suddenly my phone went off, and I fumbled it out of my back pocket. It fell to the ground before I could shut it off. The ringtone signaled my exact location. Elisa’s number lit onto the front screen. I hastily grabbed it from the floor, rejected the call, and shoved it back into my pocket. Frantically, I looked around for another place to hide, but I knew it was too late. He was going to find me.

  I heard soft laughter coming from the opposite end, and as if part of the shadows themselves, he emerged and slowly came towards me.

  Jonathan was frightfully beautiful, his pale face bright with pleasure from catching his prey. If I hadn’t have been so terrified, I might have appreciated the graceful way in which he walked or the depth of his dark, penetrating eyes.

  “You’re a terrible hider,” he chuckled, taking a book from the shelf as he walked. He scanned the title then tossed it to the ground. “Ugh. Romance novels.”

  I found my voice, although there wasn’t much of it left. “Why do you keep following me?”

  He stopped, considering my question. “I don’t think I have much of a choice anymore. I am drawn to you just as you are drawn to me. You feel it too, but something about that scares you.”

  As he said it, I realized that he was being honest again, in one of those rare moments when you could separate the truth from the lies.

  “I’m not scared,” I pronounced, taking a deep breath, “and I’m not drawn to you.”

  He stopped again and cocked his head at an angle to look at me. “You are scared. It’s not a feeling common to you, but you are so scared you’re shaking. I can almost taste the fear rolling off you; it’s most attractive. Have you ever thought that you’d feel much better if you’d just stop fighting me?”

  “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  His lips twisted up into a smile as he took the last labored step that would bring him a mere two feet away from me. The same recognizable force that had been there from the beginning pushed me back and away from him, but this time a short thrill of excitement beat in my heart as I felt the distinct desire to push back against the unseen energy.

  Drawing breath, and what I had hoped was my own form of power, I pushed against him, squinting with exertion.

  His eyes widened. “How dare you!”

  He flicked his hand toward my face. The movement caused me to lose my pathetic concentration of force and to take a step back, hitting the wall behind me. I could go no further.

  He hastily reached out to take my hand. My palm spasmed and then jerked with such force out of his way that it hit the back wall with a bang. I couldn’t stop myself from crying out.

  “Ah, I bet that hurt, and rightfully so. You’re making this more painful than it has to be.” A grin stretched across his face; he was not as put off by my effort as I had hoped and I could only surmise that he was enjoying himself. “You see, Sarah. You and I, we’re like two magnets.” He cupped his hands near either side of my face as if cradling my head, and even though his skin never came in contact with mine, pain erupted from the compression. “You see, our negative forces cause us to push against one another, and because of those negative forces, we can never quite come together—but, Sarah, if someone chooses to flip that magnet over…” Jonathan’s hands clapped together loudly, causing the sound to ricochet, “a totally different reaction will occur.”

  I flinched as terror spread throughout my body. Closing my eyes, I tried to concentrate on anything besides Jonathan, but he wouldn’t have that. A growl issued from the back of his throat, threatening me, daring me to look at him, and I obeyed. His gaze delved into mine, looking for some bit of understanding that I couldn’t give him. After a few seconds, he clicked his tongue.

  “No response? And here I thought I was being so clever. Why don’t you do me a favor? I want you to tell me what this feels like.”

  Jonathan walked even closer, bringing our chests just inches away from each other and our lips nearly touching. The space between us grew thick, as if the air itself was trying to expand to keep a safe distance between us. But it was failing, and I was being crushed.

  I heard something crack once, then again and again, and I realized it was either the wall behind me or the bones breaking within my body. I couldn’t tell which. My heart thundered into overdrive as the attack continued. My breathing spiked painfully until I could no longer inhale.

  “How does it feel, Sarah?” he said roughly.

  “Stop.”

  “You could make this stop,” he whispered near my ear. “You know how to make it stop. You don’t even have to say anything.”

  My eyes started to close from the growing pressure. Seconds. I would be dead in a few seconds. Why didn’t help come?

  “Help,” I managed to get out.

  Jonathan laughed. “You want me to help you? Okay, I’ll help you.”

  “Move away from her.”

  A voice I vaguely recognized came toward me, its tone strong and unusually fierce. My pain dissipated as Jonathan whirled around to face the newcomer. My vision blurred, but I could still make out the familiar shape of my young friend Aaron.

  How had he found me? I tried to call to him, to warn him he shouldn’t be here, but nothing came out. Jonathan had moved a step forward, but stayed close enough to keep me pinned where I was, swearing in his wrath under his breath.

  Aaron moved toward us down the dark aisle of books, and I was suddenly terrified for him. What was he doing? He was so small and young in comparison to Jonathan, but as I watched him walk toward us, there was a powerful, almost-electric energy that surrounded him.

  Jonathan’s entire body tensed, shifting into a defensive crouch, ready to attack. I drew in a large, labored breath ready to scream, but then stopped. Unexpectedly, Aaron extended his hand in an odd gesture as if he were preparing to shake hands with Jonathan, but as the two closed distance, Aaron whipped his arm to the side. Jonathan went airborne, flying sideways into the aisle of bookshelves, causing them to topple and crash into the one next to it. With a second sweeping motion, Aaron caused another shelf to fall in the opposite direction, reversing the domino effect and causing a wave of books and metal shelves to come toppling down.

  The library was now abuzz with concern and frightened screams echoing from all around the building. I could hear more muffled movement and violent cursing as Jonathan struggled beneath the avalanche.

  Aaron reached me and, grabbing me by the arm, he yanked me past the flailing Jonathan, who was now trying to emerge from the bindings that covered him and was sending books flying in every direction.

  Aaron walked us out of the back aisle, past the work desks and computers and toward the exit. People were running toward the scene of the accident.

  “Aaron, is anyone hurt?” I asked as we hurried away.

  “No, not even Jonathan.”

  “How do you know?” I had to run to keep up.

  “Trust me,” he said.

  I did.

  We had reached the exit and continued out the door and away from the building. No one bothered to stop us. I kept t
rying to look over my shoulder expecting Jonathan to already be behind us, but he wasn’t. Not yet, at least.

  I finally glanced up at Aaron, his usually-kind face strangely alarmed as he studied the parking lot and its attendants.

  “Aaron, what just happened?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Aaron,” I said a little louder, “what’s going on?”

  “Where’s your car?”

  I looked around to get my bearings. “It’s over there.” I pointed towards my vehicle. He automatically shifted directions and plowed toward it. Realizing there was no point in arguing, I followed him.

  “Can you drive?”

  I nodded and quickly got in. Aaron slid into the passenger seat.

  “Go. Now,” he commanded.

  I turned on the ignition and whipped out of the parking spot. My heart jumped to see Jonathan standing on the sidewalk watching as we left.

  I felt Aaron’s hand on mine. “He will not do anything now, but he will follow.”

  “He’s going to follow me?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Aaron…”

  “Sarah, you’re safe. I will not let anything happen to you. Pay attention to what you are doing and get us to your house.”

  I tried to focus on the roads ahead, but my mind could only repeat what I had just witnessed. Over and over again I felt the horrible sensation of being slowly crushed to death. I started to shake uncontrollably.

  “Who are you, Aaron?” I asked without bothering to look at him.

  “I’m your friend.”

  22

  Pulled In All Directions

  As we drove, I kept glancing to my side to verify that he wasn’t just a figment of my imagination, but Aaron continued to sit calmly in the passenger seat of my car, watching the street and occupants of the road.

  “Aaron,” I began warily, “how did you find me?”

  But instead of answering my question, he tapped the dashboard with his fingers. “Attention on the road, please,” he directed.

  I did as I was told, sighing heavily for dramatic effect. It wasn’t a long drive, but Aaron was unusually quiet. I was extremely tired and confused.

  “At least talk to me so I don’t fall asleep,” I complained, gripping the wheel at the proper hand placement, ten and two, even more tightly.

  Aaron’s brows pinched together. “Why would you fall asleep at the wheel?”

  “Never mind,” I huffed. “Just tell me how you found me.” I didn’t want to explain the haunting—and rather embarrassing—details of my dreams with Aaron, not if I didn’t absolutely have to. But I did feel guilty for keeping it from him. He deserved an explanation after he aided my escape from Jonathan.

  “You asked for help, did you not?” Aaron said simply.

  I inhaled and held my breath, waiting for him to continue, but when he didn’t, I sighed again.

  “I did ask for help, but were you nearby to hear it?”

  “I’m always nearby, Sarah.”

  My mouth dropped open in exasperation. “Are you being intentionally vague?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” I asked as I turned onto Cheryl’s street.

  “Because. You have company,” he said, nodding in the direction of Cheryl’s house. Another vehicle came toward us from the opposite direction, towing a silver Airstream behind.

  “Dad,” I breathed, remembering the alarming message I had left him. Aaron hummed in agreement as if understanding my internal reaction.

  “And there, as well,” he added, pointing toward the house. From the distance I could just make out Laith and Elisa sitting on the porch, their bodies leaned up against the front door, waiting for me.

  “Oh my.”

  “Yes,” he harmonized with my tune. “I’ll stay here in case you need me.”

  I parked the car in front of the house and quickly exited, walking toward my dad just as he jumped from his truck.

  He immediately zeroed in on my passenger. “Who is in your car? Is he why you called?”

  Suddenly a voice called out from the house. “Matthias!” Laith’s anger was palpable as he leapt down the patio stairs, intercepting us.

  I cringed, not knowing how I was going to explain any of this to my father. “No, Laith, this is my dad. His name is…”

  “Matthias,” Laith growled walking past me, roughly grabbing my dad by his collar.

  I inhaled sharply, realizing that Laith… was going to die. “Laith, what are you doing?”

  “Get your hands off me, Herald,” Dad hissed, “or you’ll find yourself needing your own kind of protection.”

  Herald. I froze before I could go to anyone’s rescue. How could he have known that name? I tried to ignore the obvious answer to my own question.

  Elisa placed her hand on my shoulder, a calming presence in the middle of a brewing storm. I reached up and squeezed her hand, a small thanks and a rather pathetic apology, but it was all that I could offer at the time.

  She gave a weak smile, then focused her attention back to the men, still spouting threats to one another. “Boys, you’re making quite a spectacle.” Elisa clicked her tongue in annoyance.

  I looked over just in time to see a car drive by, the occupant’s observing the unfolding scene with interest, but the two men didn’t seem to notice, and neither one was backing down.

  It wasn’t until that moment, with both standing face to face, that I realized how big Laith was. His tattooed biceps bulged underneath his fitted grey shirt, the veins in his neck stood out as his jaw muscles flexed. He might have been even larger than my father.

  Elisa cleared her throat, interrupting my sleep-deprived thoughts. “How about we take this conversation to a more appropriate location, preferably before the police are called.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Dad tried to forcefully remove Laith’s hands from his shirt, but Laith only held firmer.

  “Yes, you are. We have been given authority to apprehend you. Do you want that to happen in front of your daughter?”

  “Apprehend him? Did he do something wrong?”

  They ignored me.

  Elisa peered up at Laith, catching his attention. “Laith, let go.” She placed her hand over his.

  When Laith’s grip lessened, Dad wretched his body away.

  “I think I should go with Sarah’s dad in his truck. We’ll take his… home with us to our house.” Elisa smiled warmly at my dad. “We just want to talk.”

  “What if he hurts you?” Laith glared at him, but Dad just snorted, rolling his eyes in disgust.

  “He would never hurt me,” Elisa argued. “Laith, take your truck. Sarah, meet us at Ray’s house. And bring your caretaker.”

  “What?” Both Laith and my father asked at the same time, looking toward my car.

  “Just go,” she mouthed to me. Taking dad by the hand, she guided him to his truck.

  Laith stood watching the two drive away, visually upset at being separated from her, until finally looking at me. I was surprised he even remembered I was there. “You have a caretaker with you?”

  “I don’t even know what that is,” I said.

  Aaron, who had waited patiently for my return, still chose to remain silent. I started the car and followed Laith in his vehicle.

  My dad had said Herald. Was anyone who I thought they were? Dad, Laith, Elisa, Jonathan? Now Aaron. Even more disturbing was the realization that I knew next to nothing about my supposed friends. They, however, seemed to know a lot about me.

  I thought back to Jonathan and all that I had discovered in less than a twenty-four-hour period. Out of it all, Ian’s face weighed the greatest in my mind.

  “Aaron, I think he killed Ian,” I whispered, somehow realizing he would understand what I was talking about.

  He let it hang in the air before finally responding, “I know.”

  I nodded. I had expected the answer, but it still stung. “Why didn’t you tell me? All this time… you could have warn
ed me months ago.”

  “And what would that have done?”

  “What do you mean?” I replied sharply, turning to gape at him.

  He gave me a sad smile. “Would you have believed me?”

  “Yes.” I turned back to the road, my face burning. “Maybe. Does it matter?”

  “Okay, let’s pretend you would have believed me. If Jonathan killed Ian, then he was ordered to do so by the Destroyer. I assume you realize by now that calling the police wouldn’t have been an option. So what would you have done?”

  I thumped the steering wheel with my palm of my hand. “I don’t know. And the Destroyer?”

  Aaron shook his head. “Never mind. Listen, that day at the hospital, you told me Jonathan made you nervous. Remember?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded, hesitating before answering. “Well, Jonathan wasn’t really there.”

  I jerked automatically. “What do you mean he wasn’t there? I saw him. You saw him.”

  “Yes, but we were the only ones who did. He was not choosing to be visible to anyone except for those who have the ability to see—those of his kind, and those of my kind. Apparently there is a lot more going on here than even I know, but in my defense, I felt as if you knew enough. You admitted it yourself. You knew something was wrong with him. Your conscience told you that. In most cases, that’s all you would have really needed to know and trust. I didn’t keep his true identity away from you to deceive; I did it to protect you.”

  “To protect me?” Who was Aaron that he felt he needed to protect me from Jonathan?

  Bring your caretaker, Elisa’s voice rang in my head.

  “You’ve just witnessed what he’s capable of, and believe me, that’s not the limit of his powers.”

  The burn on my arm stung again as if in response to Aaron’s pointed words. He was right. If he would have told me all of this when I first met him, I wouldn’t have believed him. I would have probably thought he was crazy—and truthfully, I hadn’t ruled that possibility out. Regardless, he was right. I did know that there was something wrong with Jonathan. I’d always known.