The Lariat (Finding Justus Series)

by Ashley Dotson

  “I downloaded the Montrose photos from my camera’s SD card.” Her hand shook as she swiped her fingers over the screen and enlarged the slideshow, “Look at them. Tell me I’m not crazy.”

  I stared at a black and white photo of a window sill on the ground floor. Streams of light filtered through the dust motes.

  “It’s very pretty. I like the way the light catches the particles in the air.”

  “No, no, look in the corner.” She pointed and enlarged it further, “Do you see that face?”

  “It’s just dark patches, or dust on the lens. I don’t know.”

  “Then why is it in every photo?” She swiped through ten more photos, the face growing darker and more prominent as they moved closer to the last photo.

  She skipped though all of them and I saw the proof on every frame. Then there was the thirteenth floor. I watched as the entire horrific accident on the thirteenth floor through the lens of Ben’s camera. Her photo down the elevator shaft revealed an almost human figure reaching out.

  Samael.

  “I knew that place was haunted. This changes my senior project entirely,” she said, the excitement evident in her voice.

  She continued swiping quickly through the last of the photos, ones she deemed were the best yet. She wanted to put some kind of supernatural spin on them. She loved how they got more and more eerie as they progressed to the last swipe. Until she came across the last one.

  The photo of me.

  My wings glowed faintly from the light filtering thought the window behind me, hanging like a curtain covering the ugliness of the floor and the broken stairs below.

  My eyes were a bit too red, like the picture had already gone one round on Photoshop. My tattoo glittered in the low light. My hand was extended out to where Ben stood, still clicking away. It too glowed, the tips of my fingers were burning red with unleashed fire. I remember that moment. My daemon and I were both ready to fight, ready to fly away of the imminent threat.

  “Wow,” Ben whispered, “Look. At. You. How the hell did that happen?” Her eyes slid over to search my face. “This is more than just a ghost. Whatever is in there affected us both, but this. The photo is completely altered. You look amazing. And those wings. I can’t believe you did this. When did you have the time to edit this photo?”

  “Thanks. I think, but I didn’t mess with the photo.” Her words only mildly insulting, and she missed it entirely. She was too caught up in the image of me looking very much like my worst nightmare.

  Ben scoffed and waved away my response. She jumped up from the couch a bit too quickly and began to sway.

  “Slow down, Ben. It’s my job to keep you here and from doing too much.”

  “But you don’t understand. This photo…”

  “Don’t you have to have my permission to use my photograph?”

  She sulked, “Well, yeah, but…”

  “Well, I don’t want you to use it. It’s hideous.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Fine. Your subject is hideous. It’s not like you took that photo on purpose. You accidentally snapped it when I called your name. You passed out, for God’s sake.”

  “I’m still using it.” She grabbed the camera and walked to her room. I followed.

  It was now or never.

  “You can’t use that photo.”

  “I can.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Can.”

  “Can’t. Listen, Bennet. I’m asking you not to use it. I don’t want anyone to see me like that.” I could feel my face and hands heating. My temper was rising and I didn’t want it directed toward Ben. She was barely over Samael’s attack- she didn’t need to be victimized by another daemon.

  She turned, her eyes stared straight into mine looking for the real reason to my reluctance. She couldn’t find it. I had buried my secret so deeply, layered it in humanity and coffee grinds and alcohol. I was as far from supernatural or superhero as anyone could get. I didn’t know the girl in that picture- she was an avenging angel, and most days I felt like a bottom-feeding Vagabond.

  “Tell me why.” She crossed her arms and stood waiting for my answer.

  Cyrus words swam in my mind. I needed to tell her. I was time to tell her the truth. I was about to ensnare her in a world of darkness and shatter her notions of her boring, bookish best friend. I hope she wouldn’t hate me forever, but I was out of options.

  I thought back to how Orrin had first told me I was a daemon. Actually, that didn’t go well either. Instead of words he used actions. He showed me the power of his birthright- he jumped. He gave me what needed- proof.

  I tamped down on my ever-present anger and prepared to spill my guts, “What do you know about angels and daemons?”

  11

  I needed to let loose, I needed the fire surging beneath my skin to burn free. I had never felt such a need in my life. I knew these added pressures of Ben, Cyrus, and Samael were at the root of the problem. Running was no good, drinking just dulled the pain, and I didn’t have the patience or peace of mind for yoga. Ben plied me with question after question, I was explaining badly and her doubt was like wet cement, even after I showed her the proof of my birthright.

  She smile and clapped once, “Well that’s a very nifty trick, Layla. I’m very impressed really, I am. But that’s just a spoon and you probably learned that from watching YouTube. But really, Layla, that doesn’t make you a daemon. I know you’ve had a bit of a hard time getting over that jackass from high school, but that was a lifetime ago. I think you just need to quit drinking and deal. I know you’d be able to put yourself back together.”

  “It’s not the drinking,” I sighed.

  “I’m not stupid, Layla. It was bound to come to a head eventually. You drink like a fish. Actually, you drink like four fish, but who’s counting. I don’t see how you’re coherent most days. I figured you’d get kicked out of school or lose your job…”

  “Thanks friend…”

  “But that never happened, friend, so I figured it wasn’t actually a problem. And you never wanted to talk about it.”

  “I still don’t.”

  “The idea that you’re blaming it on some kind of daemon is just nuts. I don’t believe in daemon possession.”

  I was astounded. I wanted to laugh in her face. If she only knew that she had been a victim of daemon possession back in high school. If she knew the way her face twisted into a hideous toothy grin of a Vagabond, the way her flesh melted from her face, the helpless feeling of being trapped in her own body. She had luckily forgotten, or she might be a shell of her former self, like Daisy. But this wasn’t the moment to remind her of the experience. According to Ben, she had enough ammunition for therapy from her mother alone.

  “Okay,” I sighed and backed away from the couch. “I guess it’s time go full-monty.”

  “Layla, if you start taking off your clothes I’m moving out.”

  That brought a laugh from me unbidden. Before she could move I flapped my wings once, violently, to their full glorious height. It always felt so fabulous to free them after keeping them confined most days. I stretched them wide, tracing the bumps on the wall with the tips of my flight feathers. I rolled my shoulders feeling their full weight hanging deliciously.

  Ben was speechless. She had curled her legs up onto the couch and looked like she might retreat into the cushions of the couch like a clam into its shell.

  “Say something,” I whispered.

  Click, click, click.

  I snapped, my deamon within me seized on that noise of the camera in her hand. My eyes lit with a fire all their own. Ben screamed and threw the camera at my head. I caught it easily, crumbling it to black molten bits on our living room carpet.

  So much for the deposit.

  My hands flew to my mouth, “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I did that.”

  I laughed to myself and cooled my jets, unsure why I had reacted so rashly. I looked at the mess and at Ben, shaking with fear,
who had backed herself into the smallest corner behind the entertainment center. Someone was bound to come bursting into our apartment any moment the way she was carrying on.

  I moved toward her and tried to grab her by the shoulders, but I moved too fast. She fainted dead away over my arm. I was glad Ben got some good photos, but not at the cost of her life. I didn’t want this for her. I tried to keep her separated from this part of my life, but my father, Orrin and now Cyrus had all warned me that this would happen to anyone I kept close.

  Bennet took a heavy steadying breath and her eyes fluttered behind her lids. Her week had been hellacious, and I was only making it worse. Her eyes flew open and her body tensed.

  “Hey, hey, hey, it’s still me,” I began. “I’m not going to hurt you and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. It’s just me. I’m still Layla.”

  “What the hell is going on? What are those, wings? What did you do to your eyes? They were red, like in the picture.”

  “That happens sometimes.”

  “You melted my camera. Your hands were on fire. This is too trippy. Did you give me acid or something?”

  “No, Ben,” I sighed knowing she needed honesty not sarcasm, “You’re not on a trip. Is isn’t a side-effect of your illness. This is just me.”

  “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Nothing,” I backed up slightly offended, touching the bottoms of my wings that hung below my hips. “This is what I look like. Most Vagabonds, half human creatures I mean, look like me. I mean they look like that version of me in the photograph. Well some have horns, or no eyes, or…never mind.”

  “Can you put those away?” she asked pointing to my wings, “And when did you get a tattoo?”

  I touched my neck, “You can see this?”

  “Yeah,” She scoffed. “I can’t believe you went and got a tattoo and wings and didn’t tell me.”

  I smiled, “I didn’t mean to keep it from you…wait, actually, I kind of did. This isn’t something I share with everyone.”

  Ben was still breathing too hard and fast, “I guess I can see why. Wait, can I touch them?” She was asking and reaching at the same time. Her fingers touched the hard arc at the top of my wing, wrapping her hand around it and followed the feathers to their tips below my elbow.

  “How is this real?” she asked searching my eyes for an answer.

  “You’re asking the wrong person for that answer.”

  I backed away from the corner giving her more room to breathe, side-stepping the black plastic goo that was fast hardening into a solid mess in the middle of her bedroom.

  “Sorry about your camera too. I’ll get you another one tomorrow. Promise.”

  “Like you can afford that.” she threw back.

  “I’ll call my dad.”

  Dad!

  I still hadn’t called him. Sometimes I couldn’t’ believe how forgetful I could be.

  I needed my phone. I needed a drink.

  I need Orrin.

  No, I answered myself. I wouldn’t give in to him. If he didn’t need me, then I didn’t need him.

  But what if he does need you and you’re too stubborn to see it?

  I hated hearing the truth, especially from my daemon, but it was right. We were right. I was tired of fighting against my love for Orrin. Love wasn’t supposed to be something you fought with, it was something you fought for. I was too busy fighting with myself and I needed to spend some more time checking on my loved ones, especially with Samael’s threat hanging over me.

  I would call Dad the moment I was done talking this out with Ben.

  “What does all this mean?” Ben finally asked, crawling out of the corner.

  “Can I give you the shortened version?”

  “For now. But you gotta know you’re in for a lifetime of questions.”

  I laughed, only Ben could make me laugh at such a serious time, “I can only imagine.”

  ***

  “So, Dr. Williams too?

  I covered my face with my hands, “I don’t know what to do about Cyrus. And yes, he’s half angel.”

  “Cyrus,” Ben said dreamily. “What a name. What a face. What a perfect ass. Is he good kisser?”

  “I don’t know,” I worried and bit my lip.

  “Yet. You don’t know yet.”

  “I don’t know yet,” I corrected. “And I’ll tell you if I ever find out.”

  She jabbed me in the ribs, “You better.”

  “You’ve just blown the top off of everything I knew was real in this world. Is there more?”

  I sighed. “Yeah. There’s so much more. More than I could begin to tell you.”

  We talked. She asked and I explained. I had been justifying my birthright, telling her everything I had been holding in for over three years. I started thinking back to the first changes within me, my eyes, my strength, speed and memory. I rambled about my wings sprouting from my back and Lillith coming in to our house. She was shocked to hear my father knew about my fate the entire time I grew up. Her fierce loyalty was evident throughout my story. I watched her every thought play out, her expressions mirroring my own shock, dismay, anger and acceptance. Never once did I see the doubt I expected.

  Bennet Taylor was truly my own saving grace.

  “What about unicorns?” she interrupted our contemplation.

  “Fake.”

  “Gremlins?”

  “Fake.”

  “Chris Hemsworth?” She had caught me by surprise and I snorted sweet tea up my nose. I laughed and coughed through it. We hadn’t talked like that in ages. “Damn, I hope he’s real.”

  “Nobody should be that good-looking,” she argued, sitting up on her bed to look at me.

  “Except maybe one of his brothers. People shouldn’t be allowed to look that good.’ It felt good to laugh with Ben again, “It’s mostly angels and daemons that are good-looking. Some Vagabonds are just hideous.” I thought back to my trip through Hell and the attack at Balmorhea, and of Orrin and Cyrus. I couldn’t think of one without the other anymore.

  “That sounds legit, all things considering. But after what you said I figured all of Hollywood must be full of them.”

  I shook my head, “Not likely. Those kinds of creatures keep a very low profile. I don’t know what happened to me. I’m still a little plain. I don’t think I fit in with either group. I mean, I hope I’m not hideous. At least I don’t think I am.”

  Ben’s computer was still open. It was the only device in our apartment I hadn’t destroyed. The screen froze on my photo, a vibrant and terrifying sight. Both of our eyes slid over to it.

  “Well, it seems like Cyrus likes what he sees,” She fluttered her eyelashes dramatically. “Does it bother you? Keeping your wings hidden like that?”

  “It doesn’t feel great, I can tell you that. Sometimes I take off for hours at a time and go flying, to stretch them out, give them a little freedom.”

  “I would love to do that,” she mumbled shaking her head. “What I wouldn’t give to have what you have.”

  “What I have is a curse,” I snapped, “You see me like that picture. But you have no idea what I endure, what sort of responsibilities and darkness I’m forced to wade through with every breath I take.”

  “Oh,” Her face dropped losing all of its earlier humor, “I’m sorry, Layla.”

  A tear slipped down my cheek, “I’m being torn in three. There’s a war between the angels and daemons. Very often they involve the human world in their fight. They use us because we can do what they can’t. Beings like me have power. We are stronger than they are in ways. But I don’t want it. Any of it. It beats me down from the outside and tears on me from the inside. I know you don’t understand this, but what I have been given isn’t a blessing. I’ve been cursed by both Heaven and Hell in my eyes. I know there is a bigger divine purpose, and maybe one day I’ll know exactly what that purpose is, but today, every day, is a waiting game and I don’t have the strength to play anymore.”

  Ben’s
eyes grew even larger while she listened to my words and waited, letting my rant soak in. “So what’re you saying? I’m sorry to be making light of something this serious, but I guess I just don’t understand. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Ben winced after swiftly moving toward me, and hugged me to her side. I always avoided hugging her because she was so much shorter than me she made me feel like a giant. And at that moment, with her arms wrapped around my ribs, I felt like an awkward oaf. After learning earth-shattering news, after almost meeting death, Ben was comforting me. She couldn’t even fathom that I was responsible for our current situation.

  “This is only the tip of a very large iceberg,” I blubbered, thankful that she knew a piece of my truth. “Being my friend has put your life in danger. There are some very big bads after me, and after the fiasco at the Monstrose I think they’re after you too. I’ve put you in danger and I’ll never forgive myself for it. But you gotta know Ben, I’m still the same person. I’m still me.”

  “Good,” she said, touching the screen of her phone, “And I’m still me.”

  “What does that mean,” I quirked my head trying to glimpse the screen as she texted.

  “Like I said, I’m still me.” She smiled devilishly.

  It took me a few more seconds, “Who are you texting? Ben, give me that phone.”

  “But I’m not feeling very well,” she coughed pathetically, “I think I need a little special attention from a certain doctor who makes house calls.”

  I grumbled slightly, but knowing I hadn’t made a mistake. Ben had to know the truth.

  “I think he’s gonna be good for you, Layla.”

  Ben and I would face this together, or so I thought. I never expected how many people I excluded in my thoughts of together. My earlier words were right- Ben and Cyrus were only the tip of a very large iceberg of people that would be affected by Samael’s intrigue.

  12

  I raised my brow at the sharp knock at the door. I couldn’t imagine Cyrus knocking. His every movement alluded to his superiority over his dominion, like a king walking through his kingdom. He moved through my world like he belonged there. Cyrus would never knock on a door- he would walk in, privacy be damned. He didn’t do it just to irritate me, it was bigger than that. He was bigger than that. Cyrus was beyond manners.