by Jaime Reed
I took a moment to observe his appearance, the even brown complexion, the thin layer of waves on top of his head, the broad, slightly flat nose, and the full, sculpted lips. The resemblance was uncanny, and no one could tell the difference. But I knew, and I silently grieved for such wasted beauty and unmet potential.
“Cambions have a way to trick a person’s mind into seeing what they desire most. But you physically transform your body.” I shook my head in awe. “So, you can turn into any person?”
He bowed his head. “I can be any human I see, whether in person, or in photographs.”
“Why bother? Can’t stand the sight of yourself?”
His smile widened. “On the contrary. It’s just easier to cater to a woman’s specific desire, like my companion last night. She was a widow, and I appeared to her as her late husband. She thought she was dreaming, and who was I to deny her one last chance at happiness?”
“That’s just it,” I whispered. “It wasn’t her husband. You’re playing with people’s heads.”
Looking offended, he placed a hand on his chest. “I’m providing a service to lonely women, and I even let them live. What more can you ask for?”
I dragged a hand over my face and rubbed my temple. Fighting to keep my voice and temper low, I said, “Answer me this: How long do you plan to walk around like a seventeen-year-old kid? His family is going to notice something is off.”
“Surely you know how consumption works. I acquired memories that came with Malik’s life energy. I can revert to those to fill in the blanks, the way he talks, his gestures, his attitude, and his family life. It isn’t that difficult to play the part. After all, it fooled you.”
Not sure if I heard him right, I leaned over the table. “Wait, you’re living with his family, under their roof?”
“They have a nice house and his mom’s a great cook—best apple pie I ever tasted.”
There was gumption, there was audacity, and there was Tobias’s complete lack of shame. How could he just prance around posing as someone else and not feel a hint of guilt? True, I hadn’t liked Malik, and that dislike was a two-way street, but he and his family didn’t deserve this disrespect. Lowering my voice, I muttered, “Her son is dead, Tobias.”
He hovered closer, his face mere inches from mine. “I’m aware of that, Flower. As strange as it sounds, I don’t have the heart to let her find out. She’s a really sweet woman, and that kid was her pride and joy. Could be why I haven’t approached you sooner.”
The distant look in his eyes stopped my snappy comeback. He seemed sincere, but that could mean anything. At the end of the day, he was still a demon, and a crafty one at that. Demons didn’t feel anything, didn’t have compassion. Or did they?
“How old are you anyway?” I asked.
He blinked away his little daydream to join the conversation. “Age is not really a factor for me. You could pretty much say I’m timeless.” He pressed the skin around his cheekbones and eyes. “Must be this new night cream I’m using.”
I glared at him, ready to give him a piece of my mind when a voice asked, “What language is that?”
I looked to the girl next to me. Melissa Graham’s one gray eye watched me behind her face mask of curly brown hair. She was painfully shy and what little she did say seemed to come at the cost of physical comfort.
“Is that Russian?” she asked in a soft, broken voice.
I paused, confused by what she meant, but Tobias was quick on the draw and said, “Polish.”
“Oh. Cool,” she said, then buried her face in her book.
Stunned beyond words, I whipped my head in Tobias’s direction. He could speak Polish? Had we been speaking in Polish the whole time? And why hadn’t I noticed? For an answer, Tobias pointed a finger gun at me and winked. At least I didn’t have to worry about anyone eavesdropping.
“So yeah, I was thinking, is there any chance of you moving somewhere that’s like, else,” I said.
He examined his nails in boredom. “Nope. You intrigue me and I wanna get to know you.” He lifted his eyes to my hair. “I’ve been dying to ask, why do you have that red and white streak—”
“None of your business,” I interrupted. “Why waste time pursuing someone who’s already spoken for? You may have known Nadine, may have even loved her, but you don’t know me. What if we did bond and you find out you can’t stand me? You’ll be stuck for life.”
“What’s not to like about you? You’re smart, witty, and cute as a button.”
His answer stopped me mid-outburst. “You think I’m cute?”
“Not in the conventional way, but yeah. Every time I see you, I have this unyielding urge to just squeeze you to death. You’re so ...” He searched the ceiling for the right word. “Delectable.”
I stood up and collected my tray. “I’m going to class.”
He caught up with me in three long strides. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“Your very presence is an insult.” I dumped my food and added my empty tray to the growing stack on top of the trash bin. When I turned to pass through the double doors, I almost ran into his chest. I scowled at his grinning face. “Why are you so bent on getting in my pants? I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who are far more experienced in that department.”
“You’re right, but this isn’t a discussion to have here. Have dinner with me tonight.”
“No.” I kept walking.
“No?”
“Not just no, but hell no. I know better than to go anywhere with a demonic sociopath. What I do know about you, I don’t like, and the things I don’t know are probably a whole lot worse. So I’ll pass.”
“Ah, come on—”
“Dude!” I snapped before lowering my voice. “I don’t know how many ways I can tell you to leave me alone. You’ve succeeded in creeping me out, and this is only our second conversation. During which, you’ve confessed to committing the following offenses.” Going into lawyer mode, I counted the charges against him on my fingers.
“Breaking and entering, personal theft, attempted murder, destruction of property, sexual assault, stalking, improper disposal of a dead body, identity fraud, and working my last good nerve. This suave routine may work on other girls, but as I said before, You. Don’t. Know. Me. Have fun with those underwear, ’cause that’s as close as you’re ever gonna get to me.” I strolled to my English class, leaving my new shadow to his day.
Considering the kind of mischief he could cause, I knew it was a bad idea for him to be running around unattended. I just couldn’t bring myself to care. Honestly, if he’d been roaming the halls incognito for this long, what was another day, or week? It’s not like anyone had died since he got here.
Well, no one except Malik, of course.
13
Visiting hours at Williamsburg Community Hospital ran between the hours of 4 and 8 PM, a schedule I knew now by heart, and seriously wished I didn’t.
The facility could probably treat over two thousand people if necessary, a bit presumptuous, not to mention gaudy, for the snooze-worthy tourist trap known as Williamsburg. Illness and death came the natural way around here, but the definition of “natural” seemed to stretch these days.
Wringing my hands in aggravation, I fought the sudden impulse to run laps through the parking lot before going inside. I had a body full of life force, delicious nourishment that fueled the capricious spring in my step. It made me giggle, sigh, touch everything, and note my reaction to each new texture. I’d never felt this peppy before, a power surge that topped caffeinated energy drinks and would take a good week to burn off. My skin glowed with a healthy sheen of gold, my vision clear, picking up the slightest movement from yards away.
It could have been due to the overbearing demon it came from, or the countless lives he’d taken over the years, but this particular strain harbored a rich blend of the best qualities in life. It twined inside like a braid, each delicate fiber distinct in personality and history, leaving a carbon print of its owner.
Michael was right—memories were strange things. It became harder to determine which ones were mine. I’d thought the listlessness, that foggy drift regarding the how, what, and whys, only happened to donors. But it affected the one who fed as well, for these new lives, these new memories had to be accounted for.
How many files could one’s hard drive store before the entire system shut down? To feed completely, to consume an entire life, loaded to the hilt with experience and knowledge required valuable space, and pieces of myself would compensate. If enough lives were taken, what room was left for me? Where would my life fit in? And could I recognize it as my own, or would I become the old saying, ‘you are what you eat’?
Feeding always put me in a philosophical mood, searching for rhyme and reason that clearly didn’t exist. And if it did, knowing would only kill my buzz, so these hard-hitting questions were strictly rhetorical. A part of me wanted to keep this experience for myself, savor the electricity lacing my veins, but someone else had a greater need for it.
Operation: Cambion Recovery hit a snag when the nurse at the sign-in desk gave me the third degree. She must have been new or drinking on the job if she thought not being a blood relative would keep me from Caleb. Hospital regulations and security guards wouldn’t save her from my wrath. Just when I moved in for the kill, a voice called behind me.
“Ma’am, she’s with us.”
I knew that English accent anywhere. Turning around, I shook my head at his clumsy swagger up the hall. Michael chomped on a rope of licorice and wore that old rumpled gray trench coat that he undoubtedly slept in. Though we were indoors, a pair of dark shades hid his eyes, either to conceal his spirit’s allure or the fact that he was hungover.
The nurse found it difficult to look away or utter a complete sentence, a natural response while in a Cambion’s presence. “Sir, um—only family members can see patients at this time” was the only coherent phrase from her. She patted her mousy hair and straightened the front of her teddy-bear scrubs.
Michael bent over the desk, lowered his shades, and leveled her with a stare that could dissolve clothing. “She is family. She’s my brother’s fiancée.” He snuck a wink at me before I could correct him.
Shaking out of her daze, she slid the clipboard to me, still unable to take her eyes off Michael. “Yes, of course she is. How silly of me.”
After signing the clipboard, Michael escorted me to the room with my head tucked under his arm. I liked being considered one of the boys, but his knuckle sandwiches were brutal. I could only shudder at what Caleb had to deal with growing up.
“So what happened to you? Thought you’d pop by.”
“Something came up, couldn’t be avoided,” I answered while fighting out of his chokehold. “But I’m here now. I’ve gathered some energy for him. Any little bit helps, you know?”
“Yes, it does. We’re trying to give what we have, but he seems more accepting of yours. It’s sweet, actually. We’re one big happy family.” He held my neck tight, locking me into yet another odd contortion.
“Caleb and I aren’t married or mated or whatever you want to call it,” I choked out.
“But as soon as you marry Caleb, both families will be united,” Michael assured, ignoring my struggle.
I planted my heels into the floor, stopping our procession. “Whoa, back the spit up, caveman. I’m not getting married. I’ve gotta finish high school and seven years of college before I’ll even entertain the idea.”
“Yes, because no married woman in history ever passed the state bar. You’re a modern woman. You can’t multitask?” Michael started walking again and dragged me with him.
With a few calculated twists, I broke out of his hold when two giggling nurses entered the hall. They smiled and twirled their hair in a shameless play for his attention.
Here stood the second reason why no woman should ever hook up with a Cambion, at least none who valued a full night’s sleep. I’d been told on numerous occasions that only a strong, self-assured woman could tolerate these chick-magnets, but even the most confident woman had her limits.
Michael turned to me, his playful demeanor melting away. “Speaking of the law—you know that P.I., Ruiz?”
“O, I see that nose of his, but not that dog I shall throw it to,” I replied. As Michael stared slack jawed at me, I explained, “It’s from Othello, one of my favorite quotes.”
“Right then. Well, I had the pleasure of meeting him a few days ago. Nasty bloke, that one. I don’t care to meet him in a dark alley.”
“Yeah. He’s been around asking a bunch of questions about your dad.”
“Like what?”
“About his death and his life in Europe. I don’t know. I get this vibe like he knows something, and he’s waiting for us to slip up.”
“Interesting. Sounds like I’ll have to intervene.” He gave me a lazy smile and opened the door for me.
We entered the room, where rumpled blankets and pillows were piled in the corner. Haden lay between two chairs, snoring loud enough to rouse Caleb out of his coma.
I reached Caleb’s side and traced a hand over his pale fingers, applying the slightest squeeze to let him know I was there.
“How is he?” I asked.
“Not much change. He hasn’t stirred,” Michael reported.
I kissed Caleb’s eyes and cheeks before moving to his lips. Allowing my body to relax, the energy poured out of me in waves, fast at first, then puttering as the seconds inched on. Lilith had a time relinquishing her energy, as I’d already suspected she would. She seemed a bit indifferent to Capone today, not her usual dancing flickers of electricity. This was not a good sign.
“Sam, I think that’s enough. Don’t want to give too much,” a voice warned from across the room.
I looked up at Haden, who was now among the living. “I’m okay. I’m not tired.”
“You sure? That’s an awful lot. What did you eat?” he asked.
I avoided the question and returned my attention to Caleb. Capone ate greedily, pulling for every ounce of strength. This time, Lilith seemed more eager to give it, but her previous reaction confused me. Normally, she would be jumping at the chance to be with Capone, and now she was barely interested. I closed my eyes, trying to decipher the feelings as best as I could.
I finally pulled away, gasping for air. “I think that should do it for now.” I wiped my lips, then stopped at the sight of the brothers looking at me in shock. “What?”
They continued staring. Michael looked to Haden with concern.
“What?” I yelled.
“I’ll handle it.” Haden patted Michael’s arm before crossing the room and steering me out of the door. “We need to talk.”
I didn’t have much choice in the matter. One moment I stood inside Caleb’s room, the next I’d reached the far end of the hall, out of earshot of wandering staff. Haden cornered me against the wall. His big body eclipsed the overhead lights, casting me in shadow. Though he was soft-spoken, one wrong word could set him in a murderous rage, and disturbing his nap made him that much grumpier.
“Samara, I’d appreciate it if you were honest with me,” he began in a calm, even tone. “We have a lot to deal with right now and we don’t want to have to worry about you, too. There was no way you could’ve let him feed for that long and not be on the floor. You’re practically glowing. So, I’ll ask this one time. What on earth did you eat?”
I had given a lot of my energy away, and though I felt the drain, I still had enough to get me through the next few days without feeding again. If he was this upset over energy, I couldn’t imagine his reaction if he knew where I got it from.
I wanted to tell him. The words perched on my tongue, ready to fly, but couldn’t. I was feeding his brother energy from the demon who’d put him in this position to begin with. This was truly messed up from all angles, but I couldn’t risk Haden doing something stupid, like killing Tobias. Lilith was linked to him, after all, and I needed more time to figure this out.<
br />
“Don’t worry. I didn’t kill anybody,” I said.
He didn’t look convinced.
“Haden, I may be desperate, but not that desperate.”
After a moment, he drew back. “You say that now, but I know the extent our kind will go for a mate. We walk a very tight rope, Samara. Taking a life in its entirety is an intoxicating and dangerous thing. The power will seduce you into wanting more. With each life taken, you become more demon than human.”
“I know.”
“Be sure to remember that. These demons are not cute, they’re not friendly; they are not pets. They kill without prejudice and will turn on you the second you show weakness. Our humanity, our strength keeps them restrained, but they’re patient. Your reasons might be noble, but it will destroy you and Caleb in the end. You’re new to this world, and this is a hierarchy you’ve yet to understand. There are laws that we have to follow, rules brought down from centuries that have kept our kind in line. Disobeying rules will result in death, and I won’t lose any more family. You understand?”
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Yes. I’m just trying to help him.”
“I’m not just talking about Caleb.” Haden gave me room to pass.
We watched Caleb in shifts. Haden brooded in the corner, while Michael kept taking pictures of Caleb on his camera phone and texting updates to Brodie. Unable to will the strength to leave just yet, I sat by Caleb’s bedside, doing homework.
After I read aloud my poem for English, Haden reclined in his seat, playing air violins. “You really do have Nadine’s spirit in you. Try not to slit your wrist or anything.”
“Shut up, Haden. I think it’s deep.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
“She’s taken after her in many ways; her draw is very strong,” Michael commented and took a swig of his flask.
Heat blossomed on my cheeks. “Let me ask you guys something. You knew Nadine longer than I did. Did she mention anything about a boyfriend?”
“Not that I know of.” Michael looked pensive. “She dated this one bloke a few years back, but he was married and—”
