The Lariat (Finding Justus Series)

by Ashley Dotson

  Orrin pulled me to his chest, “I need to seek out my father. I’m calling him out on his recent mischief.” He glanced at Cyrus, “I have never known him to have this ability- to change fate. He usually doesn’t boast falsely, but he has always been a liar at heart. I want to see wat he is up to myself.”

  I grabbed onto his shirt, “But I just got you back and you’re leaving again? Please stay or take me with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” Cyrus interjected.

  “Could you leave now?” Orrin held his gaze, barely keeping his own daemon in check.

  But Cyrus’ eyes were trained on me, “Not unless that is what Layla wants.”

  I walked the few steps to stand in front of him and grabbed his big, gentle hand, “It’s alright. I’ll stay here. Just let me have a moment with Orrin.”

  “Another one? Really? You’ve already had quite a few.”

  I smiled, “Yes. Please. I know it’s a lot to ask, Cyrus.”

  He raised my hand to his mouth, the same hand Orrin kissed, and placed his mouth on the palm of my hand. I smiled and lost myself in him for a moment.

  “I’ll be on the other side of this door. Do not make me chase you into Hell. The last time I went there I fought Samael himself barely made it out with my life. But I will traverse it all if I have to.”

  “There will be no need,” Orrin ruined his moment. “You can go now.”

  Without further word Orrin pulled me to him. His mouth crushed onto mine, kissing me like he hadn’t done in three years. I should have pulled away, Cyrus was right there, my father was in the other room, and Orrin was still with Daisy. But none of that seemed to matter. My body heated up and melded to his. I curled into his, hungry for all of his love and attention, having been starved for so long.

  I missed him.

  I needed him.

  I didn’t know who I was without him.

  He looked down at me, holding my head with both of his hands, “Don’t kiss anyone while I’m gone.”

  “Well, that just depends on how long you’re gone now, doesn’t it?”

  “You carry a piece of my soul always. Don’t torture it any more than you must.” His look was scathing, “And remember, I love you.”

  He disappeared before I could even say it back.

  18

  “Umm, guys. A little help. Ewww,” Stomp, “Layla, do you two have some kind of bug problem you never bothered to mention before?” Ava yelled and then squealed from the kitchen. I turned to see her stomping all over the floor. No one else rose to assist her with the bug that was fleeing for its life.

  My father was pouring over old books looking into any texts that alluded to changing fate. Leave it to Cyrus to spill the beans about Orias’ message to me. I guess I didn’t actually tell him not to say anything, but I was still mad. He felt he was doing his duty. I felt like hitting a magical unfriend button and making him disappear for the rest of the day.

  Then I would just miss him too much. Ugh.

  Kevin was searching some kind of daemonologist database for the same thing. Cyrus and I were sitting on the couch looking through the thesis I had written in one afternoon. He told me it was pitiful, even though I rationalized it still would be better than any other work turned in by my fellow graduate students. He explained that I shouldn’t lower my expectations of myself to meet a current standard.

  “Set your own expectations and always live up to your own ideals. No matter who you’re with, or where you go, you are the one that will have to live with the decisions you make. When you put your mark on something, make sure it is something you will be proud of for years to come.”

  He handed it back to me covered in red scrawl, “But it’s just a thesis. It’s almost beneath me.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be a problem to fix,” he replied.

  “He’s right,” my father added.

  “Fine, Dr. Williams,” I said through closed teeth.

  Ben walked into the kitchen after listening to Ava banging cabinet doors and hollering ewww too many times.

  “Oh my God. Guys, what have you put in this fridge? Where did all these beetles come from? This can’t be normal.”

  “Beetles?” Kevin asked.

  “Umm, James. This is not a joke,” Ava called my dad from the kitchen, “I think Ben’s right. We need to get out of here.”

  That finally got all of our attention.

  “Get in here,” Ava commanded.

  They were standing on the edge of the kitchen tile watching the sink overflow with black water. Bugs climbed the wall appearing from nowhere.

  “Did you try turning it off?” Kevin gestured to the faucet.

  “It is off.” Ben added.

  “The same thing is happening in the bathroom,” Cyrus called from the hallway. “It’s time for us to go.”

  “These are just parlor tricks. It’s just bull crap,” Ava said, “We shouldn’t show him that we’re scared.”

  Dad yanked his protégé out of the kitchen, “This is why you haven’t been released to hunt on your own. You better be scared. This is a serious enemy we’re up against, and a healthy dose of fear will keep you on your toes. Daemons do things like this to use fear against you. It’s your job to outsmart them, and that includes knowing when to get to safer ground.”

  “But you said they infiltrate our minds and our forces by turning us against one another. They can’t hurt you unless you let them in.”

  “They do. They can also blatantly invade our plane of existence, if say, they were extremely powerful. If the daemon in question was the epitome of evil.”

  My father threw an exasperated look her way, and she just frowned. “So we’re just going to leave?”

  “Yes. Now,” Cyrus answered grabbing my hand and looking at my father. “Where to?”

  “Travis Park.” Kevin and my dad answered in unison.

  We grabbed all the computers, car keys and luggage that was within reach. I grabbed nothing since Cyrus wouldn’t let go of my hand. As we walked out of the apartment, the black water turned into shiny beetles scurrying up the walls moving unnaturally fast.

  I wanted to stay. Something within me begged to stay behind, to push them out of the room and see what would come out of that black water seeping into the living room carpet. I could do it. I could end this spectacle before it got any messier. I took one step away from them when I felt a tug on my hand.

  “Close the door Layla,” Cyrus ordered.

  It felt wrong, but I obeyed.

  ***

  Travis Park Methodist Church was also located downtown. It was smack in the middle of many historic buildings and hotels. It wasn’t a very imposing landmark, but its old walls sat on the corner of a paved street and many tourists passed it front of it, taking photos of its old wooden doors and the thin tall steeple. It wasn’t a sight to behold, but there was an aura about the place that bespoke of a secret peace that was not easily found. My dad explained it was its ability to blend in to the scenery that made the church a safe harbor from evil. Many churches are grand, ostentatious places of worship, while others have a different purpose- safety.

  My father, Kevin, and Cyrus moved like a team of Navy SEALS on a mission. They stood around Ben, Ava and me, each watching a separate direction. I tuned in, trying to feel for any daemon energy, but there was none.

  “Ya’ll know this is really backwards, right? It should be me protecting all of you,” I complained.

  “I will not let him touch you. He could kill you as quickly as look at you,” Cyrus added, still scanning the road ahead.

  “He doesn’t want me dead,” I countered.

  “No, he wants you in his bed,” he said matter-of-factly. It was only a short walk from his huge Mercedes G- Class to the side doors of the church.

  The air around us felt different. There was an immediacy that was palpable since we left the apartment. The black water had been a warning, like the more flagrant signs I ignored while I was still walking around as a functioning dr
unkard. Samael was done making threats. But I didn’t know what to do- this was all still so new to me. I was glad my father, Kevin and Cyrus knew what to do and where to go.

  Kevin reached the wall of the church first. He loosened a brick in the side wall and pulled it free. An old key fell into his hand and he threw it to Cyrus.

  He opened the side door of the church and ushered us inside.

  My father was talking to Ava directly, “Once you have an assigned area, you will be required to meet your contacts, find your safe houses. Most of them already have keys, as you’ve just seen. They don’t typically move them since no one knows about them but other daemonologists.”

  “And when will that be? I’ve been following you around for three years.”

  He just smiled. “Don’t rush it. Especially right now.”

  Ava sighed and sat down on a long bench. We had stepped into a long, dark hallway. It smelled like a church, slightly molded wood and paper.

  “I’ll find the preacher and let him know about the situation.” Kevin said walking down the hallway, “You two find our old boxes and get everything set up.”

  Cyrus and my father nodded.

  “Boxes?” I asked, “I thought you used to work in Austin.”

  “I did. I worked this area too.”

  Kevin stopped in the hallway, “San Antonio is close enough that it got lumped into our territory. Our watch went from Austin to Del Rio and to where we are now. Everything else closer to Mexico was handled by another daemonologist.”

  Cyrus continued, “That area has always been a major hotbed of daemonic activity. I don’t know why America even fought for this piece of land. It has only proven to be problematic for the past two centuries. They should have let Mexico keep it. It wasn’t worth the fight.”

  “That’s not the most popular opinion, I’m sure. And it’s not like daemons care countries draw their borders.”

  “I never wanted to raise Daisy here. That’s why we moved to Balmorhea. It was small. I knew everyone. I could see evil coming long before it got there. Or so I though.” The smile fell from Kevin Reese’s face at the mention of his daughter. Everyone looked at him, his head down and his sudden silent contemplation.

  “Sorry.” He cleared his throat and walked away. Cyrus and my dad walked in the opposite direction leaving Ben, Ava and myself standing in the hallway.

  We walked along the dark carpeted hallway like entitled intruders. The dark hall was lined with photos from decades past- Sunday school classes, new steeple construction, baptisms. One large picture contained small portraits of the preachers that had presided over the church from the past one hundred years. The pictures began with the current year, and with each frame the photos aged from color to black and white and then blurry to sepia-tones.

  Cyrus’ photo was the last. I was more irritated than shocked. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Shut up! Ava,” Ben cried over my shoulder. She touched Cyrus’ photo, “Ava, come here.”

  Ava squinted at the photo and rolled her eyes like an enamored teenager. “Figures. These three are apparently a history that we will never really know. And he can really rock that moustache too. Layla, I don’t know how you do it, but you have managed to snag the two most handsome men I have ever seen.”

  “Damn, Layla, I always knew your dad was cool,” Ben added tapping her index finger on the glass, “But this guy. Have I told you how much I like this guy, because I do?”

  “Well, you never forgave Orrin for his behavior in high school. I think your opinion might be a little biased.”

  “Probably. But I never really liked Orrin. He was rude. He called you easy. He made the whole school turn on you. Maybe you can forgive him, but I can’t. There is never a good reason for rudeness.”

  “He thought I was someone else.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I don’t think I could ever make you understand Orrin Darringer. So, you’ll just have to trust me.” Bennet shrugged her shoulders. The three of us continued to stare at the small compelling portrait. “Sometimes I feel like I know him, but then there’s times like now when he completely throws me for a loop.”

  “Wait,” Ava interrupted, “Are we talking about your Orrin or Cyrus? I’m confused.”

  “Me too,” I murmured.

  “Back to Orrin,” Ben broke the silence. “You gave him your soul, whatever that means. That’s like bigger than marriage in my book.”

  “Mine too,” I admitted.

  “It’s supposed to be unbreakable. When we bound ourselves together I felt this cord wrap itself to me, around me. I can feel what he feels. I wanted only him. I still feel that way. It’s just for so long now that love has been replaced by so much pain. To love him and know I can’t be with him. To know he and I will always have to choose our duties over each other- I can’t think of anything more miserable.”

  “So, it’s Orrin you want then?” Ben interrupted my melancholy.

  “That’s just it. I don’t know anymore.” I turned to look at the two of my best friends, “I love both of them. Orrin is all I have thought about, or tried not to think about rather, for three years. I gave him a piece of my soul and there is no way I can get it back. I don’t know if I would even want to. And now he’s here…”

  “And so is Cyrus,” Ava added.

  “I know. When we first met, I could feel it. I could feel him in the room. It was that same kind of intense electric current that ran between both of us. I didn’t like him at first, but that didn’t change anything. The other night, when the two of us were out, there was this moment that passed between us. It was some kind of irrevocable barrier.”

  I thought back to his song he played for me, “He offered me his soul, as if it was the most natural thing, and I didn’t hesitate. It was mine. I wanted him. I love him.”

  “As much as you love Orrin?” Ben raised her brow.

  “Yes. And no. It’s different. They’re different. It’s like how you love two different people, any two people. It’s like how I love the two of you.” I reached for their hands, “Just because I love one of you doesn’t mean I can’t love the other.”

  “That may be true, Layla, but you can’t do that to them. You can’t have two soulmates.”

  “I know.” I looked down abashed, “What I don’t know is how or why any of this is possible.”

  “It just is,” Ben smiled. “Sometimes it’s just easier not to question things. You’ll have to make a decision.”

  “I know.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be today.” They both hugged me close. I felt so thankful for my best friends.

  We walked away from the photo and back toward the rest of the group. I wondered how much of our conversation Cyrus had heard or already knew. I pulled open a set of double doors and found a wide sanctuary. It was a tall circular room and looked more like an opera house than a place of worship. The large balcony and ceiling were lined with antique silver tiles. The stain glass windows were dull, limiting the sunlight that filtered through. The whole place felt like a giant lifeless tomb, like nothing could get in, but also nothing could get out.

  The three men came walking back in each carrying a large plastic tub. One was filled with vials of liquid and glass containers of what looked like dirt. Another held weapons, mainly knives and small circular blades, and the third held clothes, sheets and three books each swaddled in cloth and tied with twine.

  “Preparing for the apocalypse?”

  “Something like that,” Cyrus answered, smiling slightly.

  It was hard to believe he was the same young man in that old sepia-toned photograph. Just as hard to think of him as my father’s best friend. He was born before the time of Christ. He had seen and done so much, and here he was, standing with me, through it all he had spent those years waiting for me. That level of devotion was unfathomable to me. I loved Orrin and there was even a time I thought I could wait forever, but the idea of living through that torment was too much. These past
years the heartbreak overshadowed any amount of hope our love could bring. What did that mean?

  Everyone kept reminding me how young I was. It didn’t matter that I was stronger, faster, and more powerful, I was limited by my age and my life experiences. Beacon or not, I did have so much to learn about the world, my life and love. I was beginning to understand I had allowed my emotions to guide my decisions until now. I needed to be better.

  We made a makeshift camp in the balcony above the pews. That area was in need of renovation and was closed to the congregation. The nervous preacher assured us no one would bother us up there. My father and Kevin were gently uncovering the old books while trying to keep Ava from touching them. Ben was rummaging through the other boxes of weapons. They were all holed up here to keep humanity safe, to keep my prophecy from coming true. But more than that, they were here to keep me safe.

  I reached out to touch Cyrus’ hand. He stilled at the shock my touch evoked. “Thank you,” was all I said.

  “There is no place else I would be,” He looked up to the ceiling.

  “So you used to preach here?” I prodded.

  “Yes,” He turned a little pink, “I tried the ministry for a while, but it wasn’t for me.”

  “I guess after living for so long you have to try and keep it interesting.”

  “Exactly,” he answered. “There are numerous ways to fight evil, but I am better with the more physical approach. Leading a congregation left little time for fighting and hunting.” Cyrus reached back into one of the brown wooden crates and pulled free a long heavy object. He removed its cloth wrappings and showed me a large silver sword about four feet long. This was mostly unadorned, like it was made for a real fight, not just to look pretty on someone’s belt a few thousand years ago.”

  I raised my eyebrows and look to his eyes. “Is that yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “How…old is that?” I wanted to touch it, but I didn’t ask.

  “Almost as old as I am. Your mother gave it to me. She said if I took care of it, it would never fail me. It hasn’t yet, except…”

  “Except what?” I wanted to know.