by Lila Huff
I rifled through my purse looking for the pepper-spray I always carried with me. As my hand searched through my purse, I remembered that I hadn’t been able to bring it with me. Airport security had confiscated it before I had gotten on the plane. I was completely defenseless. I knew that even with the few self defense moves I knew, I wouldn’t stand a chance against the huge man that stalked me.
It was strange to me that the street was completely empty. I hadn’t seen anyone since I had left the Bennett’s, not even a car had driven down the road. I crossed over to the other side of the street, not waiting for an intersection, and stepping in an icy puddle on the curb, cursing the cold liquid that seeped into my shoe.
To my great relief when I turned back again, the man was on the other side of the street still. I was just being paranoid again.
Or was I? I glanced back again, and he was gone. My eyes swiveled directly behind me and involuntarily sucked in a ragged breath. He was right behind me, maybe three steps behind. I broke into a run, at this point I was scared enough that I didn’t care if I looked like an idiot.
I ran and ran, but every time I turned to look behind me, he was still mere steps behind me. But he wasn’t running. It was like I was on an invisible treadmill, running like a madwoman, but getting nowhere. The fear that seeped through me tingled coldly through my every fiber.
I saw two people ahead of me turn down a side street, and when I reached it I turned down it also, hoping that I would find help down this street.
I ran headlong into a brick wall.
I got up from the ground where I had landed after ricocheting off of the brick barrier. The two people that I had seen were nowhere; the only other presence was the hulking shadow that blocked my escape. I banged wildly on the door next to me, frantically hoping that someone would hear me. That someone could save me. I was too frightened to even scream.
The menacing figure simply stood in the open end of the short alley. Waiting, but for what? He pulled the hood that had covered his face back and I saw the same red eyes I had seen before, but they were now on the face of a jackal.
He stood leering at me, saliva dripping from his exposed fangs, his lips curled back in a snarl, and all I could do was stare at him through puffs of warm breath that escaped my lips as I shivered in the dank, dead end of the alley.
I heard the low rumble of his breath as he stood staring at me. I could only guess that he was waiting for me to try to run past him.
“Jo!” I heard the muffled voice in the distance. It was too far away for the person to be of any help to me. I suddenly wished that I hadn’t let my anger get the better of me, that I had just accepted that stupid cab.
But the sound of another person let me find my voice again, “HELP!” I shouted, even though I knew that it would do no good.
The jackal’s ears flattened backwards, the person looking for me must have annoyed him. I heard the feral snarl just before he lunged toward me and I felt his teeth rip into my neck, and I realized that I was going to die.
There was a brilliant flash of red light and then darkness.
8. Qualms
-Paul-
I stalked down the mirror-like corridor toward the cavernous space that Jack had made his room. I had been in this area of our underground lair several times, but I had never before felt this edgy. I was about to crawl out of my skin, which was entirely possible for all I knew.
I could have blinked and been there, but there was an unspoken rule about that sort of thing. I couldn’t fault any of them for wanting their privacy. Didn’t I want the same thing? I knew the answer to that was yes.
Jack was lying on his shelf-like sleeping platform – the glassy stone of our home’s walls and floors was as comfortable as any feather bed to us – throwing a football into the air above his head. The ball looked like it was older than I was; it was made of worn black and white leather pieces that had been sewn together. Not the plastic and rubber concoctions that factories now pumped out.
“What brings you this way, Pup?” he asked as he sat up, catching the ball behind his back and placing it on the platform next to him. He really was like the movie stereotype of the older jock brother.
“I have a question,” I hoped that I seemed calm. I didn’t need to get razzed about showing emotion over a dead human. “I thought you might be able to answer it.”
“Alright kid, shoot,” Jack said with a shrug. He seemed un-phased by my sudden somber nature. I knew that I wasn’t hiding the fact that I was upset very well, the anger that bristled through me was very tangible now. It wanted to escape from the tightly bound space I was confining it to.
“It’s about the night I was brought to the Asakku,” I said hoping that simple explanation would prepare him for my question. “A girl died that same night. Would you know who collected her if I gave you a name?” I hoped that Jack wouldn’t need much more, I was already mad enough that I was contemplating the ways that I could attack him… they were irrational thoughts, but right now, I didn’t care.
Jack’s brow furrowed slightly as he thought. “A name… probably not.” He seemed to be fidgeting; I could tell that he was hiding something. “If you had a picture, maybe we could check with the other guys if I didn’t know her. Why? What’s up?”
I looked at him appraisingly, trying to gauge his response as I spoke. “My friend Ellie died the night I was… recruited. She was in London, visiting, and I was just wondering if, or rather, which one of us collected her.”
Jack’s face was barely concealing his surprise and relief. It was as though he had expected to recognize the name I was going to say, and had thought it would be someone else.
“I’m pretty sure that I didn’t collect anyone named Ellie that night.” His left eye squinted as he continued. “I only collected one soul that night. I don’t remember her name off hand, but I know it wasn’t Ellie, and it was a botched collection anyway.” He seemed to be gauging my reaction too.
“Botched?” I asked, trying to make it appear that my only interest was in how one could botch a collection.
“Yeah, I was about to take her, when Adam intervened. Blasted wind demons.” He muttered a few other curses before continuing. “The wind demons have no respect for the dying. Every so often they will try to intervene during a collection and take the individual that we were supposed to collect. They turn them into wind demons too.”
“And wind demons are bad?” I asked. “Well, worse than us?”
“The wind demons are a terrible lot… they have no issue stealing a soul that is destined for the afterlife. They swoop in and steal them and convert them to doing their sinister deeds, namely the misdirection of souls, but the wind demons are hell-bent on the extermination of our kind.”
“So they took this girl who was just supposed to die?” I asked. His story now and the one that I’d overheard him tell Carlo were not meshing. “That seems strange; why risk their own demise by challenging you to take the soul of one feeble girl.”
Jack looked at me oddly, my repetition of the words he had spoken earlier must have him thinking, and he replied, “It wasn’t much of a risk,..” he seemed uncomfortable now, my words had shaken him. That made me smile as he continued, “Adam was the one who came for the girl. A single Asakku poses no risk to him.”
“Is Adam a special type of wind demon?” I asked with a small scoff.
“He is.” The solemnity of Jack’s tone made me stop for a moment. “Like Gallu, the wind demons have a master. Her name is Lilith and Adam is her mate.”
“And as her mate he’s stronger?” I found this interesting.
“He’s almost impervious to us. It would take all of us to be rid of him, and that is a situation he’s not likely to put himself in.” Jack said the words with a grimace. I could hear the hate in his words. “You’ll know him by the medallion he wears. It will look like a large ruby to you, but it shines like a brilliant light.”
What a curious piece of jewelry, though I suppose that
any jewelry on an demon would have surprised me. “And that medallion is…”
“It’s her heart.” He said spitefully. “That’s what gives him his special imperviousness.” The last word he said with a sneer.
“He wears her heart on a chain around his neck.” I laughed, it was a bit of a play on the “heart on your sleeve”, but immediately cut the noise off, as I saw Jack’s face darken.
“That blasted pendant acts as a sort of shield for him. He could pop into this room, right now, stick his tongue out at us and make lewd gestures and there’s nothing we could do about it.” He said with a tired laugh. “But if he was fool enough to show up here, he’d probably kill us both…. It would definitely be a fool’s errand.”
As far as Adam was concerned, I was fairly certain that Jack was telling the truth about the wind demon mate, or at least he honestly believed everything he had told me about him. But I knew he was lying about the girl. He knew it was the same girl that I had asked about, he was simply unwilling or unable to tell me. He hadn’t just been out to collect her soul; Gallu had wanted her as one of the Asakku, and I had been retrieved in lieu of her. Was I even supposed to be here? Was there actually some master plan behind whose souls they collected? I doubted that I would find any truth here, and the deceit was reflected from the mirror-like walls.
“I’ll be sure to watch out for Adam,” I said as I turned to leave.
“You might ask Gallu about your friend. She might know who collected her.” Jack said, as I walked down the corridor away from his room. I just grimaced, unimpressed with his faked concern. “But anyone will tell you, it’s better to forget about the living. We’re not really a part of their world anymore.”
“If Ellie was still living…,” I said under my breath, “we wouldn’t have a problem.”
I needed to get away from this place. It was all together too depressing. I kept walking as I thought of my parents and, in a step, I burst into flames and snuffed out as my foot landed on the hard pavement of snow covered London. I quickly ducked behind a garden fence as a group of carolers bustled past. They were all bundled tightly in their heavy coats with thick wool scarves and mittens.
I looked quite out of place in the frosty night air, wearing nothing but my black trousers. It wasn’t any less conspicuous that the snow around my feet was quickly melting into a puddle, and evaporating in steam.
One quick burst and I could melt all of the snow around me… but the house behind and the fence in front of me probably wouldn’t fare so well. The thought of destruction was oddly calming, and I toyed with the idea of it for a moment. I shook my head, those were the kind of thoughts that would leave a family homeless for the holidays.
Where am I? I looked to the street sign at the end of the lane. I was about two blocks from my parent’s home. They were probably at a friend’s house for a holiday party. It was night, thankfully, and I could stick to the shadows. My skin no longer glowed like an ember, so I had no need to worry about that. I could hoof it over there… but why should I bother? They would be out for a while. Which would be good. I quickly thought of their home and found myself inside my old room.
It was crammed full of boxes. My things from my apartment, I assumed correctly. I guess they weren’t ready to get rid of me yet. It would be good to get some things out of the boxes. Even in death I needed a few things. I pulled the first box down and opened it. The entire thing was full of pictures. It looked like my mother had torn down every picture of me that their flat held and thrown it in this box. Grief did strange things to my mother. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had completely removed all traces of me from the entire house, other than what was in this room, and locked it all away in here.
The picture on top was of me in the cowboy Halloween costume I wore when I was eight. My mother was so proud of it. It was the first, and last, costume she ever made for me. Thinking back, it was possibly my favorite Halloween costume from my child hood. I discarded the picture and the thought quickly, looking through the box for the picture I wanted most.
The print I sought was toward the bottom of the box, it wasn’t framed and one of the corners was bent, but it was the one I was looking for; a picture that had been taken of Ellie and I the night we both died. She looked happy, even though I knew she had been fuming at my mother’s presumptions in strange company.
I should have said something. Maybe if she hadn’t left mad, we wouldn’t be where we are today…. I shook the thoughts from my mind. Jack was right, there was no point in dwelling on the past, I needed to focus on the present. And I would. I would focus all of my rage on Ellie’s present state.
I placed that picture with a picture I had found of my parents and me from a few years earlier. That was all I really needed from that box. The next one was full of things from my childhood, and I moved past it, I set aside the boxes of things from my school days and dug a trench through the boxes to the closet that had once housed my clothes.
I found a few things hanging up when I managed to wrench the door open. I pulled out a shirt and sweater, quickly putting them on, and then stuffed several other sets of clothing into my old duffel bag. The others may have gotten comfortable with walking about bare-chested, but it certainly wasn’t an appealing style choice for me.
I restacked the boxes as neatly as possible and flashed out to the hall, and then downstairs to the kitchen. There was a notepad on the kitchen counter like always, and I quickly scrawled out a message to my parents, flashing upstairs to my father’s study where I placed the note in an envelope and then back to my old room where I placed the sealed envelope on top of the first box that my mother would see when she walked back into the room. I knew it wouldn’t be for several years, but that didn’t bother me.
A sudden noise in the kitchen however did. It sounded as though an entire cupboard full of pots and pans had fallen to the floor. I flashed down to the kitchen and stood eye to eye with Carlo.
“It’s not good to come back to your home after you’ve died.” Carlo said absently as he pulled all of the serving dishes from the cupboard above the sink.
“What are you doing?” I asked, completely taken aback by his actions.
“I’m not doing anything,” he said with a toothy leer, “he is.”
I followed his extended dragon claw toward a plump raccoon that was cowering in the corner and I turned to the forked tongue that was inches from my face. “You do know that the common raccoon is not native to England, right?” I asked, still a bit perturbed by my mother’s disheveled kitchen.
“No, but I liberated this lovely little boy from the zoo not an hour ago.” His needle like teeth were parted in an enormous smile.
“Lovely.” I said as I looked at the scared creature that had soiled on my mother’s checkered tile floor. “Did you at least make Whisker’s escape look convincing?”
“It can all be blamed on the groundskeeper… silly man left the gate open when he fell asleep on the job.” His words held their snake-like hiss as he emptied another cupboard before finding the food, which he unceremoniously threw to the floor also. A jar of tuna broke as it landed on the hard tile, causing the raccoon to jump. Then he cautiously wobbled toward the fish that was spilled on the floor.
“Are you quite finished?” I asked, bored with his destruction now.
“I think the question is, are you?” He smirked, “let’s get out of here, kid. Your parents are bound to show up any time, and the sight of you would probably send dear ol’ Mum into cardiac arrest.”
“If you knew my mother, you’d know that what you’re leaving for her will probably bring her just as close.” I looked back at the utter mess in the kitchen and shook my head.
“That wasn’t me!” he said in falsetto tone, “that was little Whiskers back there.” He smiled like the school yard bully who got away with his crimes. “Oh and that letter… don’t expect her to get it.”
I could easily imagine the envelope going up in a quick burst of flames, and a pile of ash
es lying on top of the box where it had sat. I clenched my teeth. I was rather annoyed that I had been “fetched” by Carlo. Being a demon was a bit more restrictive than I might have thought.
“Why are you here anyway?” I asked sourly.
“Because you aren’t supposed to be.” He laughed like he was explaining simple math to a child. But I knew what two plus two was, and I could easily see that this so called afterlife wasn’t adding up.
“I made sure that no one was home.” I said acidly. “I don’t see what the problem was.”
Carlo turned to me with a hard stare. “The problem is that you don’t know how this life works yet. We’re trying to protect you from those who can send you to the pits of Hades, and you persist in trying to give them as ample an opportunity as possible.”
I was surprised by the strength of the conviction I heard in Carlo’s words, but I couldn’t help wondering what the motivation to keep me alive was. They weren’t telling me something. Of that I was sure. But what exactly it was they weren’t telling me, I couldn’t begin to guess.
“You are just extremely lucky that Gallu won’t find out about you being out alone. She’d be livid.” He hissed at me.
“Gallu won’t be finding out?” I was suddenly curious as to why they would keep something like this from our beloved leader. Every one of them spoke of her as though they were in love with her.
“Gallu’s temper is… hot.” I found the comparison quite funny, but didn’t comment as he continued. “She has, in a moment of fury, killed Asakku for less.” His voice was troubled, and he gave me no reason to think that he was lying now. “We do what we can to keep the brotherhood intact… though I think that Mike is ready to be replaced.”
“I’ll remember that.”
We stepped out into the street as Carlo’s head reverted back to its more human-like state.
“Why do we do this, Carlo?” I asked as we walked through the cold night air. “We’re demons for Christ’s sake?”
