The
Lariat
For all of you who have enjoyed the journey.
Thank You
PROLOGUE
Another bottle empty.
I throw it on the ground to hear it shatter. It sounds like pain, which is what I need. I need more pain. I want to see people bleed. Hearing the screams of the innocent will bring peace to my dark soul.
I break the top of another whole bottle in my haste to open it. My uneven steps cause the shards to cut my lips. I love the taste of my own blood mixed with the alcohol. I take another drink. And another, and another until my throat feels as bloody as my lips. I drink until the bottle is empty and the roaring in my belly quiets the roaring in my soul.
I feel hands tight around my neck. The world is closing in and I pray for the sweet surrender of unconsciousness. It squeezes me, taking everything for itself and leaving me nothing.
Nothing.
That’s what I am.
It’s what I want to feel. But instead I am bombarded with the problems of this world. I am the Beacon, the protector, the one chosen to save or end the world. Some would relish that kind of power, but I only want it gone. Maybe then I could finally be at peace from the warring fragments of my soul.
I throw my arms out, spread my wings and jump, wondering if this will be it. Will this be the moment when those hands around my throat don’t let go? They will turn into a lariat, growing tighter with every struggle until my tormented soul finally cries out for mercy.
1
My head snapped up from the desk and I came awake so sure that Lillith had finally shown up. I looked around at the faces staring back at me and they were irritated as usual- always condemning me, looking down their noses, wishing I would cease to clutter up their graduate classes. I swallowed and rubbed my neck. My skin felt bruised and abraded. I moved it from side-to-side, an action that made me look even more out of it and unfocused. But that’s how I lived my life these days and it was working out okay.
I had bumped the guy sitting next to me in the tight lecture hall desks. He sneered, pushing his glasses back into place only to further snub me, the party girl too hung over to stay awake for a nine a.m. class. Keeping my eyes open in class had become a struggle. I was no longer listening to the lecture and Monday’s notes had been doodled to the point of illegibility.
Who was I kidding? I never listened to the lecture. I finished the novels, reading assignments, the paper and even my graduate thesis months ago. I was smarter and faster than everyone in that room- even hung over. I glanced at my watch, minutes left of class.
One month to go, then finals, and then...
Most of my classmates were excited for the approach of summer, but to me it was just another season, that bled into another, that bled into another. Life since surviving Lillith and losing Orrin, was mundane in comparison.
Three years ago I craved the normalcy I once had, before I knew who and what I was. To think I could ever get that back was crazy. I left and never walked the stage at my high school graduation. I spent that summer driving
through Texas in Orrin’s Audi. My dad drove it down, thinking he would want it. He didn’t, and I didn’t even ask his permission- I just took it. I couldn’t stay in Balmorhea, so going on instinct I headed south. I ended up in San Antonio when I finally bothered to answer my phone. It was Bennet Taylor, my best friend from Providence, and she got more than she bargained for with that call.
It must have been fate, busy, meddlesome fate, which prompted me to head to San Antonio. Ben told me she just got accepted to Trinity University. She had only applied to colleges far away from Providence and her mother. So I stayed, I enrolled, I lived my life.
I buried myself in coursework and after three years at Trinity I earned my degree in English literature and was only months away from my masters. My father was proud, my professors were in awe, Ben thought I was nuts. But no amount of books, time, or liquor could keep my mind from my fate.
And Orrin.
I looked at my watch again, wishing the time away, something that was actually out of my control.
I usually left quickly after dismissal, but not today. I didn’t want to be too rude to the professor, she had earned tenure and deserved what little respect I had to offer, but I had better things to do than attend mandatory classes with humans that struggled with coursework I had already mastered. The only professor I enjoyed was Dr. Gaines. She had asked so many times if I would be interested in being a teaching assistant, and every time I turned her down.
The large group around me was planning a study group at The Shack, the coffeehouse where I worked. They never asked me, so I was surprised when I heard my name directly.
“Hey Layla, we were wondering if you might work with us, maybe lead our study group?” The nameless girl looked at me expectantly. She knew my name, but I hadn’t taken a moment to learn hers.
I looked at the faces around me, all awaiting a reply.
The young man who had given me such a dirty look was now having a hard time, “We could sure use your help,” he said sourly, “Some of these pieces of British literature might as well have been written in another language.”
I put my sunglasses on, wondering why daemons were not immune to hangovers. Probably some kind of punishment. I stared at the group thinking I could kill them in seconds, their blood shining and slick on the linoleum floor. It would flow on down to the carpet. I could feel it coat my fingers, and then maybe I could set fire to this auditorium. Maybe I could do it while they were still alive…
Stop! I yelled internally, but my daemon just laughed and curled back into the deep recesses of my blood-thirsty soul. I was not someone to be trusted. I didn’t trust myself most days. What they didn’t know was being an outcast was my choice, not theirs. I slung the old leather backpack onto my shoulder and made to leave, but they were still waiting.
“Oh, um, you guys were serious?” I was incredulous.
“Of course,”
I was not an attentive student, nor was I a social butterfly.
I used to be. But that was before.
I was torn. These past three years I had begun to understand my purpose more clearly. Being the Beacon was a big job. My purpose in this world was to help those in need, be it daemon, angel, or human. I was a part of all three worlds, which also meant I fit in nowhere. It was my choice to keep up my humanity. I had my father. I had Bennet and Ava. I would die for them, and it seems they feel that same responsibility. Even Daisy and Mr. Reese fit into that category. I guess they could be called family. I traveled through hell for both of them and now Kevin was here to return the favor.
“So, will you help us or not?” the nameless girl asked of me again.
There was that word again. Help. People were always asking, beseeching me to save them from a trivial fate they thought worse than death.
Can you help me with these bags?
My tire is flat, can you help?
I think I broke my arm- help me!
It didn’t matter how big or small, I have learned that the human race cannot survive without one another. They are stronger in numbers- like ants or cockroaches. I grew to detest what I once loved. They couldn’t begin to comprehend the atrocities I have seen in Hell, the battles I prevented these past three years.
“She’s not interested.” Someone said. My eyes snapped back to random guy’s face. “Let’s each take two chapters from the reading, re-analyze everything and meet up at the Coffee Shack at six tonight. Sound good?”
“I’ll come.” My words came unbidden and I hated their taste coating my mouth. I hated that my choice had been taken away from me. I didn’t even like that guy. Being the Beac
on meant my choice slowly died as my birthright developed. Helping others was not just my fate but my eternal prison.
I grabbed my notebook and shouldered a path through the confused but relieved faces mumbling, “Of course I’ll come.”
I stood to the side of the lecture hall waiting to speak with Dr. Gaines. I wanted to make a few last minute changes to my thesis topic and I knew she wouldn’t be happy. I had already changed my thesis topic twice this semester and completed both papers, but she didn’t need to know that. I needed to push my mind away from death and the need to spill blood. I found some old texts online from my dad’s university. With much reluctance he agreed to send them down, but I needed permission to change my topic. She and the committee had the right not to give it to me. But somehow I got the feeling she knew I was capable of much more.
I had wondered for years if she too was a daemonologist like my father, but I didn’t dig too deeply into her life. I didn’t need another parent or a best friend. I just wanted to be left alone.
Orrin.
My daemon called out to him at the most random times. We both missed him terribly.
I hadn’t heard nor seen him in three years. Actually it was three years, three weeks, and four days since I left him. I gave him my ring and my soul and drove away wishing he would stop me, wanting him to choose me like I had chosen him. Since we parted nothing had been the same, knowing he is alive, thriving and loving someone else burns through my veins like a slow drip of acid. We can feel each other, sense one another though many miles separate us, I know he is okay. When I left him standing in front of his farm house in Balmorhea, he told me if I needed him all I had to do is call out. He could jump here and be with me in seconds or I could fly to him in minutes.
Orrin had spent three years proving he would never come to me, and I wasn’t the one who was going to cave first. It hurt to admit, but my anguish and isolation was just as much my fault. Our never-ending chess match, on hold for three years, we both waited on the other to make a move. I loved him, he loved me, but life kept us apart.
Would it always be that way? He felt he needed to stay in Balmorhea because of Daisy. Daisy needed him more than I did. The world needed me, and I needed college, according to him. We had forever together, but never the present. I wondered how long I would have to wait for forever to finally arrive.
I left everything to go and rescue him from obscurity- and he picked Daisy. I faced Lillith, I crossed the country, and then walked through Hell. And I would do it all again. Even after he knew I was his forever, he still chose her. When Daisy came back, she was less than nothing, a shadow of her former self. She would never love Orrin like the girl she once was. She couldn’t give him any kind of future, but he still stayed. His love, loyalty and honor ran deep for Daisy.
Why couldn’t it run that deep for me?
I chose him over my own loyalty and honor. I chose him over the wishes of even my father. And he still. Chose. Her.
For the now, he picked Daisy.
Over me.
His soulmate. And damn it all, if that didn’t cause my world to ignite with the fires of Hell and cause the heart within my chest begin to freeze.
I needed him. I was banned after Lillith killed him in Providence, traveled alone across the country hoping, knowing I was the only being that could find him and restore his memories that were locked away. I did all of that and he still chose her. If I were honest with myself, I would do it all again one hundred different times for Orrin. I love him, and that’s what love does.
So although I didn’t much care for Daisy, I did love Orrin.
After returning from Hell she was never the same. Her head was never right again. She needed him, so he said.
He made his choices and forced me to do the same.
And now I was lost. I only spoke when necessary, knowing our connection meant he could hear me if he chose to listen. It took a few tries but I also figured out how to quiet my daemon without the strict control I once used- alcohol. It required much more than a typical human and my paycheck at the coffee house only went so far, but it worked well when the evil within me threatened to overwhelm me.
The daemons were a constant annoyance. Vagabonds came to me, weakened and in need of a host or fleeing from an Angel, and I had to help them. Every time I opened my mouth to say No, the words stuck like barbs, too painful to rip from my throat. Being the Beacon was far more than just my identity- it was my destiny. I was bound to help anyone in need. Word got out that the Porter and the Beacon were tied to one another, so they came to me looking for Orrin.
My birthright was far more than just what my daemonic mother, Lillith, gave to me. I had heightened senses, pyrokenesis. I was smarter, faster and stronger than any human could ever dream to be. And that was just the daemonic parts. The woman who carried me and gave birth to me was an angel. My real mother, Layla, for whom I am named, gave me her angelic strength- the power of flight. I didn’t get to fly as much as I wanted to. Many days my wings itched from their confines. San Antonio was a big city, and I seldom had time to make it to the country.
From my father I retained my humanity, what I believed was my most important part, but most of the time, it just got in the way. It keeps me grounded when the warring sides within me battle for control. If I let loose, my daemon would bring destruction to all of mankind. That was the main reason I held on so tightly to my humanity. I didn’t enjoy life too much, but embracing my birthright, being the Beacon, helping anyone in need, was how I kept from crumbling and letting my daemon run rampant and allowing Lillith’s prophecy to come true.
Dr. Gaines was finally alone, I waded through a few students, but could not get to her quick enough. She darted out the side exit like she was trying to catch someone headed down the hallway. She left her bags and book, I would just wait a few more minutes. I was fine with foregoing the early morning sunshine for a while longer.
The room emptied as the minutes slid by. The familiar awareness overtook me slicing through me like a cold knife. Someone was watching me. An angel? A daemon maybe. But no one was near.
It was unfamiliar. Unlike anything I had felt before. This creature was going to be like no other I had ever known. I flattened my back against the nearest wall and waited for someone to appear. There was no use pretending to fidget with my backpack or cell phone. Whatever it was knew I was there. It was waiting for me.
So I waited right back.
2
I stood at the back of the empty lecture hall, my hands ready, every sense on high alert. I had gone to school and lived in relative peace for three years. The only otherworldly creatures I had seen were Vagabonds, lesser daemons, in need of Neutral territory or finding the Porter to be taken to Hell. But this wasn’t a Vagabond and it’s wasn’t a member of the Vile. It sure wasn’t Lillith or Orrin as much as I wanted to see him. I hadn’t seen my mother in three years, but I could feel when she was near. I may be the Beacon, the guiding light for all who sought me, but that didn’t mean I was going to let someone catch me off guard.
My hangover was really getting in the way. My daemon felt sluggish, it didn’t want to escape the liquor-induced haze either. I could feel my body coming alive in a way it hadn’t in many years. I had been waiting, biding my time for something, anything, the unseen war of angels and daemons to come crashing in and sweep me away into the deep drowning depths of chaos. My emotions were mixed, but it was obvious by the way my entire being came alive, this was what I was meant for. This feeling, this rush of emotion was an awakening. I knew whomever I was about to meet was going to change my world forever.
He pretended not to notice me. He was tall, taller than Orrin, with his blonde hair hitting the collar of his shirt. He carried a stack of books which he put on the lectern and busied himself with a few papers. When he turned to face me I saw a beard covering a very handsome face. He was older than I expected. The intelligent lines around his eyes betrayed the youthful ethereal façade. And just like Orrin had done s
o many times before, this man inclined his head toward me and smiled.
His mannerisms and fastidious eyes would have given him away as inhuman if my senses hadn’t recognized him for what he was. I relaxed a bit, current hangover notwithstanding. Consuming so much alcohol may dull my senses, but the headaches raged long after, perpetuating the cycle. He sighed, sensing my continued reluctance and waited for me to make the next move. Instead I stood there staring.
Why is every other unearthly creature breathtaking? Why didn’t I share in that same fate?
He laughed, interrupting the silence and my self-deprecation and continued to stare at me, “You underestimate yourself and that face of yours, Layla.” He took slow steps from the front, large lumbering steps.
I was entranced.
This man was more than he seemed.
I shivered, he noticed.
“That’s far enough,” was all I managed to whisper. My throat was dry and something inside me, other than my daemon, wanted to reach out and touch his face to see if he was real. I had only met one man who made me feel something like this before and I would rather walk into Lillith’s glass palace than feel that once more.
He opened his mouth, “Can I at least…”
“I don’t care who you are. Tell me what you want and leave,” I snapped.
“What I need is not that simple.” He had a slow way of speaking that I found irritating, as if he had time to burn.
“It never is. You have ten seconds before I walk out the door and I won’t help you at all after that.”
His laugh was like a vibrant melody, his eyes lit up and his smile was catching. I felt light-headed from just looking at him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Layla.” He raised his eyebrows and just grinned down at me.
When did he get so close to me?
“And I don’t need anything from you either.” He towered over me with hands tucked tightly in his pockets. He wore a thick silver chain around his neck and it disappeared underneath his shirt. I wanted to see what else he had hidden under that shirt. I wondered what I would do if he reached out and touched me.
The Lariat (Finding Justus Series) Page 1
