by H. D. Gordon
He paused when he caught sight of me, all sorts of emotions flashing through his aura. He was not happy to have me find him in such a state, but the overriding feeling being emitted from his soul was agony. It was the kind one acquires when they’ve been up all night, haunted by ghosts from the past and familiar demons.
Thomas tried to move past me, swaying back a little on his feet. His large body was off balance, and I put a hand to his back and pushed him forward to keep him from tumbling back down the staircase. He was lucky I was supernaturally strong. Otherwise he might have taken a tumble.
Ignoring his protests, I took his arm and walked with him over to his apartment. He fumbled around in his pocket for his keys until I finally just pushed his hand away and dug them out myself. I got his door open and walked him inside. He promptly collapsed in a chair at his tiny kitchen table.
I made him a drink of water, found some aspirin in the medicine cabinet above his bathroom sink, and brought them over to him. He took them both without protest, met my eyes once, and then leaned forward and rested his forehead atop the table.
Thomas groaned, not lifting his head, and his voice came out groggy and muffled against the tabletop. “Go away,” he said.
I sat back in the chair across from him, rubbed at my neck. “Nope,” I replied.
“Please,” he mumbled.
There was an open bottle of whiskey on the table between us, and he made a grab for it, but I snatched it out of his reach and clicked my tongue. “I think you’ve had enough, my friend.”
He lifted his head at last, fixing me with that hazel gaze. “Jesus, Aria. Just let me be, will ya?”
I didn’t respond, only remained seated. He reached into his pocket and flipped a silver coin onto the table. I recognized it as the kind they give you in Alcoholics Anonymous, and let out a low sigh.
“I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”
“This,” he said, waving a hand, “has nothing to do with you. This is just the way it is. You wanted me to let you in on all my secrets? Well, here you go, this is me. A drunken war vet who takes orders from people with secret agendas. Fell off the wagon. Again. Happy?” He dropped his head again.
“No one is perfect, Thomas.”
A snort. He turned his face to the side and glared up at me. “You are.”
I was both taken aback and saddened. “Ah, I see. The drink makes you lose your mind. I’m not perfect. I’m not even close. In fact, depending on who you ask, I’m pretty much a huge failure and disappointment.”
Thomas closed his eyes, groaned again. “Then we’re kindred spirits, little Halfling.”
I stood and pulled at his arm. “Alright. That’s enough pity party. Let’s get you to bed.”
He resisted only a little before letting me pull him to his feet. I lifted his arm and swung it over my shoulders, walking him the short distance to his bedroom. There, he practically collapsed onto the mattress. To my surprise, he tugged at my arm, pulling me down with him. I ended up perched over him, his hard, strong body beneath mine, and every inch of me aware of it.
“Stay,” he said.
“You’re drunk,” I replied.
He nodded. “I still want you to stay. Just until I fall asleep.” He paused, his aura swirling around us both with such turmoil it tore at my soul. “The dead don’t come around when you’re here,” he admitted. His eyes slipped closed, and I adjusted so that I was sitting up against the backboard, his head resting in my lap.
“You’re like my dream catcher,” he muttered. “You keep the demons at bay.”
I swallowed hard and made no move to leave. Looking down at him, I could tell the drink and his exhaustion was already pulling him under. Reaching up, I ran a hand through his dark hair. It was cut a bit longer on top and shaved close at the sides, and he moved his head into my touch.
Less than five minutes later, he was out like a light. I wiggled so that I could get my cellphone out of my pocket and saw that I needed to head out if I wanted to make it to first period on time. Looking down at Thomas, asleep on my lap, his breathing steady, and his handsome face free of the complexities he always worked so hard to hide, I wondered at how discovering such a flaw could only serve to make me love him more.
***
In my experience, things tend to continue on in the trend they’re displaying. When things get tough, they get tougher before getting better. When things were good, Lady Luck seemed to hang on your arm like a lover. One guess as to which was the current state of my own fortunes.
I arrived at school that Wednesday morning with my head full of enough worries to dampen my mood. I was still trying to process what Thomas and I had discovered the previous night, trying to fit together the puzzle pieces I’d gathered. When I saw Matt and Sam waiting for me by Sam’s locker, I was of a mind to just turn on my heels and sneak away, not because I didn’t want to see my friends, but because I didn’t know how to face anyone at the moment.
But Matt caught my eye before I could decide whether to bail and waved me over. Slipping my thumbs beneath the straps of my backpack, I approached and said good morning.
“We need to talk,” Matt said, and I could tell from his aura that whatever we needed to talk about was not something as mundane as when the next Call of Duty game map would be released. On the contrary, if his aura was any indication, Matt had some news that was sure to disturb me.
I nodded. “Yeah, I have some things to share, too, but not now. Let’s get through the school day first. I have lacrosse practice after, then work, but let’s meet at the lair tonight. That cool?”
They agreed. Matt headed off toward his class, but Sam hung back by me.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Nope.”
She nodded, wrapped an arm around me. “You’re not alone. Don’t forget that, okay?”
I watched with weary discontent as Sam headed off to class. Her endless encouragement managed to make me feel a bit better, but of course, because of the trend as of late, this lasted all of thirty seconds.
“Looking a little blue, fairy,” Raven said, coming up from behind and walking beside me.
I rolled my eyes and shot her an exasperated look. “Did you receive special training in annoying the crap out of people?” I asked. “Or were you born with the talent?”
“Oh, she’s feisty today. Must be having a hard time. Not that I blame you. You should be scared.”
I barely heard this last part, because something had caught my attention down the hall, near the entrance to the gymnasium and girl’s locker room. Or rather, someone had caught my attention. I watched as Andrea Ramos looked around nervously before slipping into the hallway that let into the gym, her aura a mixture of shame, anticipation and resigned repulsion, and before I really realized what I was doing, I followed after her.
I was so distracted that I didn’t even realize that Raven had followed me. Pushing into the girl’s locker room, I followed the slight pitter-patter of Andrea’s footsteps as she approached Coach Sanders’s office.
“What are you—?”
I slapped my hand over Raven’s mouth, giving her a sharp look that voiced the “shut up” for me. Her dark eyes got sort of round, and then narrowed, but whether it was because she was likewise curious, or because she was just unpredictable, she fell silent.
I leaned back against a set of lockers that was outside the coach’s office, my back flush against them, and Raven followed suit.
Familiar voices followed soon after.
“Andrea,” said Coach Sanders, in a creepy voice that I’d not heard him use before, almost a coo. “I wasn’t expecting a visit from you this morning.” A pause. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Andrea spoke next, her voice also strange—reserved, almost cowed, but determined. “I came to tell you I’m done,” she said.
There was a moment of charged silence. I looked over at Raven’s face to see that she was listening as intently as I was.
“What are you talkin
g about?” said Coach Sanders, his voice now edging on angry, like the flip of a switch.
I heard a gulp, and was sure it belonged to Andrea.
“I’m not going to do the things you’ve been having me do,” Andrea said. “I’m done. I don’t care if I don’t get a scholarship. I don’t care if you badmouth me to the coaches and scouts. I’m not doing it anymore.”
Now the voice that came out of Coach Sanders made goosebumps break out on my arms. It had a sort of reserved quality, like a fuse had been lit, the explosion an inevitable consequence. He gave a short, humorless laugh, and must’ve moved closer to Andrea, because I could feel the fear rolling off of her in waves.
Even more surprising was the anger that was building up in Raven. I looked over to see that her eyes were glowing purple.
“What do mean, you’re done?” he said. “Don’t act like we don’t have something, Andrea. Like you haven’t enjoyed our time together.”
I looked over to see that Raven’s hands were balled into fists, and I placed a hand over hers to calm her, but she jerked out from under my touch. Nonetheless, she held her position.
“I’m done,” Andrea repeated. “I never wanted any of this, but you made me feel like I had to in order to get my scholarship. I don’t care about the stupid scholarship anymore. I’d rather live in the ghetto of Grant City for the rest of my life than sacrifice all my self respect.”
“Don’t walk away from me, goddamnit,” said Coach Sanders, and his tone was now a legitimate snarl. “You don’t walk away from me, and you don’t get to just be done.”
There was a shuffling sound, a struggle. Andrea cursed and cried out and Coach Sanders put a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. I peered around the corner of the locker to confirm this, and saw that he had her pushed up against the wall and was working at his belt with one hand while covering her mouth with the other.
“You stupid little bitch,” he grunted out.
And I saw red.
***
I watched his body lift off the ground and fly across the hall in a kind of detached haze. Watched as his fat belly jiggled and his pants fell around his ankles as he struck the opposite wall. Watched as I moved to stand over him, saw the look of surprise and embarrassment on Andrea Ramos’s face. Watched as I yanked up Coach Sanders by the collar of his blue shirt, lifting him off the ground with one hand.
My other hand drew back, and paused in the air. If Raven hadn’t stepped in and done what she did, I’m not entirely sure what I would have done next. I wanted to hit the man. No, I wanted to hurt him. It would be so easy to slam my fist into his face and see how many of his teeth I could knock down his throat with the first shot.
Instead, I watched as Raven moved between Coach Sanders and me, taking the man by the shoulders, holding his terrified gaze with her own. I held him in place and stood by as his gaze glazed over, as Raven leaned in close enough that their noses nearly touched.
“So you like to prey on younger girls, coach?” Raven asked. The sound of her voice had taken on an ethereal quality, and I found my body leaning closer as well, my ears straining to hear the angelic quality she’d affected.
I did nothing to interfere when Raven breathed in deeply, when Coach Sanders’s essence began to leak out of him and into her, like a vampire. Only blood was not the meal of choice for the Succubus, but instead, the soul. Being an Empath—an aura reader—I had a unique view of the act that most others would not be privy to.
His aura was leaving him, and it was a sight unlike anything I’d ever beheld. Raven continued to take deep breaths in, her chest rising as she did so, her red lips pursed in an “o”. Her back was to me, but in the reflection of the coach’s eyes I could see the glowing purple of hers.
I’m not sure what did it, but I snapped back to my senses. I released my hold on Coach Sanders and let him slump to the ground, where he lay looking deathly pale and stunned, his eyes wide open but his mouth pressed into a tight line. Then I shoved Raven back several feet, and her soul sucking stopped as she stumbled and pin wheeled her arms to keep from toppling.
“What’d you do to him?” Andrea asked, coming forward and stepping between Raven and me, staring down at Coach Sanders with unconcerned curiosity.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve,” Raven replied, straightening her shirt with two quick yanks. She shoved past us both, moving a bit disjointedly, as though she’d just had a large meal. Under her breath, low enough so that only I could hear her, she added, “Knew you wouldn’t let me kill him, fairy.”
Then she was gone and it was just Andrea, a dazed looking Coach Sanders still slumped down on the floor, and me.
I turned to Andrea, opening my mouth to say something, though I didn’t know what. I didn’t get a chance to find out because she also turned her back on me. Over her shoulder, and with no gratitude to speak of, she said, “No one asked for your help, hero.”
I watched her walk away, rolling my neck and letting out a long sigh before helping the coach to his feet. He didn’t protest, didn’t blink as I did so, and if I wasn’t able to see his aura already repowering, I may have been concerned. From what I’d learned about Succubus, if they were stopped before killing their victims, the victims would be dizzy and fatigued after coming out of the initial semi-catatonic state, as well as suffering from some memory loss, but otherwise would heal just fine.
Plus, Raven and I may not see eye-to-eye, but we agreed on one thing; Coach Sanders had deserved what had happened to him. My skin crawled at making contact with his, thinking of what he likely would have done to Andrea had Raven and I not stepped in, but I helped him into his office nonetheless, plopping him down in his chair and turning to leave him before his mind circled back around to normal.
I was about to close his office door behind me when he mumbled, “It wasn’t me, mother. I didn’t go near the back room.”
Shutting the door, I shook my head as I hurried toward class, knowing that I’d have to think up some excuse for being late, but all I could think about was how I’d wanted to let Raven kill him.
And how for a moment there, I’d wanted to do the deed myself.
CHAPTER 32
“I love you,” I said, my hand clutched over my heart. “I mean, you… you really get me.”
Sam laughed and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “I know that the way to Aria Fae’s heart is through her stomach,” she said. “And that you’re a firm believer that cake makes everything better.”
Grinning, I licked my lips, taking in the assortment of homemade cupcakes Sam had set up in the snack area of the lair. Rubbing my hands together like a plotting villain, I said, “I’m pretty sure that’s a universal belief.”
“Ooh, cupcakes!” Matt said, joining us. He reached for one, and I growled, snapping at his hand like a wolf pup.
Sam laughed, shaking her head at my antics.
“Just kidding, Matt,” I said. “You may have some—one, you may have one.”
“Really generous of you,” he said, chuckling. The smile slipped off his face only seconds later.
I took a seat in one of the folding chairs near the table where all the snacks were set out, and Sam and Matt did the same. “Right,” I said. “I guess we have some stuff to discuss. Who wants to go first?”
Sam and Matt remained silent, so I took a deep breath and launched into my tale of the previous night.
“You followed him?” Sam asked.
I tossed up my hands. “Yeah, well, them leaving in the middle of the night after curfew seemed suspicious. So, yes, I followed him.”
“I’m not judging,” Sam replied. “So relax.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I gave my head a small shake. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I feel guilty, but it’s a good thing I did follow Caleb, because we found… I don’t even know what to call it.”
Both Matt and Sam sat in shocked silence as I told them about the tunnel we’d found under the trapdoor, about the conversation between the two doct
ors, about the drug Chris had supposedly injected Caleb with, and of course, about the underground laboratory full of unconscious Halfling children.
As one might imagine, this was a lot to absorb. I was still in the process of processing it myself.
“That could be why they were taking women,” Sam said, her brow furrowed in thought behind the thick black rims of her glasses. “They’re breeding them to make Halfling children.” She looked up at me. “Assuming that’s how it works?”
I nodded. This was a possibility that had crossed my mind. “To make a Halfling of any race you need one human parent and one supernatural. So, assuming whoever is behind all of this knows supernatural men who are willing to mate with kidnapped human women… Then, yeah.”
Matt let out a huff, his aura streaked through with indignation at the whole thing. “Mate,” he said. “You mean rape.”
My jaw clenched and my stomach turned, the earlier events of the day with Coach Sanders and Andrea Ramos flooding back to me. I nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“I’m going to kick Caleb’s ass!” Matt said, slamming a hand down on the table between us. His curly brown hair swayed around his head as he did so. He was usually such a calm and passive guy that this reaction surprised me. In studying his aura, I saw that he must have some personal experience with sexual assault, but of course, I wasn’t going to pry.
“It’s not Caleb’s fault,” Sam said, placing a hand on Matt’s arm, effectively calming him. “If those doctors Aria overheard were telling the truth, Caleb’s brother had him drugged so that he’d stop digging into Cross Corp affairs. If anything, Caleb’s a victim here, too.”
Silence fell once more, like a weight settling on our collective shoulders.
Matt voiced the obvious question. “So what are we going to do? What’s the plan?”
“We have to figure out a way to free those Halflings before they can do to them what they did to the Blue Beast,” I said. “I have to go back to that lab and help them.”
Sam nodded. “Chances are they’ve tightened security since you broke in. I doubt it’ll be so easy a second time.”
