Blood in the Shadows

by Stephanie Keyes

  “Maybe,” he shuts the book and slides it off his lap to the cushioned seat, “but it’s a lead. We should find out if it has any merit or not before we dismiss it.”

  I shrug. “Fine, but how are we going to find that out?”

  “I need to go to Pholos. He sent me to harvest your soul. If he wants you dead too, there must be a reason.”

  “Okay then. Let’s get moving.” I jump to my feet.

  “No.” Mason stands in front of me. “You’re not going.”

  “The hell I’m not.”

  “What part of Pholos wants you dead, did you not understand?”

  “Look, I’m not staying behind to have my fate decided for me. If this Pholos guy wants you to bring back my soul, then I want to know why.”

  Mason marches over to the chair and retrieves his jacket, shoving it on. “It’s a bad idea.”

  “No. Deciding to go to work tonight instead of nursing my hangover was a bad idea.” Getting drunk after last night’s hunt seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I’m not so sure anymore. “This is my life we’re talking about. Give me something to protect myself with.”

  He gives me one of those are-you-kidding me looks. “You can’t kill Pholos. He’s a powerful upper level demon.”

  “I don’t give a damn. If he wants my soul, he’s going to have to fight to get it.” I storm right up to him. “You were pretty determined to kill me to not too long ago, and I fought back because that’s who I am. I’m not going down without a fight.”

  “For the record, I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was trying to get you out of the area before the others got to you.”

  I’m taken aback. His admission has left me dazed and confused. “You mean, you had no intention of finishing the job?”

  “I thought about it. I did, but when it came down to it I couldn’t. I lacked the courage to do it.” He looks away, embarrassed. “I can’t hurt the innocent. I never have been able to. I collect the souls of those who have willingly bartered them away. Killing an innocent for his or hers soul involves a whole new low even for me.”

  I don’t see what he has to gain by keeping me alive. He’s a slave of some demon; by bringing back my soul he had the opportunity to gain freedom. He let that chance go or he may have. I’m not sure what his motives are so this could all be a ruse. Or he’s as curious of why I’m on every demon’s top hit list as I am.

  “I need a weapon. One that will protect me not only from this Pholos guy but you, too.”

  He doesn’t seem anywhere near as annoyed as I thought he would be. “Fine.” Marching back to the full sized bed behind the loveseat, he drops to one knee and opens a drawer beneath the frame. He pulls out a katana, and stands, pushing the drawer shut with his foot. Turning to face me, he tosses the weapon in my direction. I catch it without a problem, taking a moment to inspect it.

  “I know you are fairly good at using one of these. I’ve seen you in action.”

  The katana has the same symbolic design across its entire length as the bow and arrows Mason carries with him. It’s highly protected and will kill anything it touches, including Mason if I take a shot at him.

  “Who issued these weapons for you? I know by these symbols that these are exclusive, made to kill even the toughest of demons. Does your master know you have these?”

  “If he did, would I still be alive?” He storms to the apartment’s front door. “Let’s just say no one knows I have these except the person who gave them to me.” Removing the emblem, he pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “Coming?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Chapter Eight

  We’ve managed to make it halfway across the city without being attacked. Though I’m not feeling all that safe to begin with. I don’t know why, but I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s following us. I’ve looked back to make sure but all I have confirmed is that I’m either being paranoid or I can’t see who’s back there.

  Mason seems calm the entire journey until we make it to a park across from an old warehouse that’s been converted into an apartment complex for the middle class, then he begins to appear a bit edgy. Even though it’s probably around two in the morning, he keeps a low profile, sticking to the shadows as much as possible.

  When we stumble upon a brick path, he slows down, but his gaze is looking ahead at the building where I’m assuming this Pholos guy lives. With the katana strapped to my back, I’m confident I’ll be able to protect myself but truth be told, I have no idea what I’m walking into. Nothing about this night has been ordinary, and the more time passes the weirder it gets.

  Continuing by a set of trees, I glance up at the weeping willow to my right and stop dead in my tracks. Inexplicably, I begin to have a strong sense of déjà vu, which makes no sense. I don’t know why but this moment in time strikes me as familiar, as if I’ve done this before.

  “Mason, wait.” I scan the park, looking for any markings that make sense to me but I see nothing significant. “You said before that when you first saw me you had a feeling you knew me, right?”

  He turns to look at me. “Yes, why?”

  “I...” My head starts spinning. The darkness encasing us begins to transform and suddenly I’m surrounded by a lush of iridescence all around. Tall trees filled with green leaves tower above me. The sky, which was dark and filled with stars just seconds ago, is now blue, the occasional white, fluffy cloud calmly floating by. “What...? What’s going on?” I glance in front of me at Mason, but am startled by what I see when my gaze falls upon him.

  Mason is still standing where I last saw him, but his short black hair is now long, flowing all the way down to his broad shoulders. The scar on his face is missing. His clothes, having been modern and in style moments ago, are now outdated and almost regal, reminiscent of the Viking era.

  “Mason?”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Appearing a bit confused, he takes a few steps toward me. “Daya, are you okay?” It’s the same man, I see, but at the same time it’s a different side of him. One I knew ages ago. The realization startles me. Ages ago? I knew Mason, but how? When?

  “Look!” I point to the sky. “How is it this bright and sunny when it was dark two seconds ago?”

  “You’re not making any sense. It is dark.” He takes my hand in his, but by doing so he catapults me deeper into this world only I can see.

  He stands tall as he always has, but this Mason is different. A warrior. The title comes easy, naturally. I’m not sure how long ago I knew this man, but it’s obvious by the lack of modernization that many years have gone by since the last time I stood face to face with him.

  “I love you, Daya.” His head shakes in agitation. Somehow I know he’s nervous, haunted by the possibility of permanent separation. “They can try to tear us apart, but they can’t force me to forget you.” He holds my hands in his in a desperate attempt to comfort us both.

  I’m momentarily caught in a time warp, where my mind shifts erratically from the past to the present and vice versa.

  “But don’t you see? They can make you forget me.” Tears slide down my cheeks. “And they will.” I love him. It dawns on me fast and hard. I love Mason. Loved the warrior before me. This man of power was my one true love. The only man I ever coveted. However, in allowing myself to love him, I committed the ultimate sin by falling for the human I was sent to earth to guard and protect. “They know about us. It won’t be long before we are punished, but I’m not afraid for myself. I worry about you. I can live a life of solitude and servitude if I have to, but I can’t go on if something happens to you.”

  The memory is scrambled. I’m not entirely sure what I’m seeing, but I know that someone went to great lengths to erase Mason out of my life. To delete me out of his.

  “Daya, come with me,” he insists, drawing me near. “Let’s go together.” His arms pin me to his chest. He’s warm, comforting, kind in a way he’s not used to being with others. I’ve brought out the best of the Ki
ng. King? How do I know he’s a king? Or was? I’m stretched thin between the past and the present right now and confusion settles in.

  “There is no place where they will not be able to find us, Mason. It will be worse if we hide,” I insist.

  My heart breaks with the realization that I’m going to send him away, staying behind myself to pay the price for our crimes. In a last ditch effort to engrain the memory of our forbidden love so I won’t ever forget how deeply we cared for one another, I pull back so that I can press my lips against his.

  It’s a kiss goodbye. I know this, but he does not. He’s unaware of what I’m about to do. Trying not to raise his suspicions, I pour my heart and soul into our kiss. I declare my undying love without the use of words. His arms circle my midsection, anchoring me in place as he showers me with the same devotion.

  It’s brief, this contact between us, but it serves my purpose well, reminding us both that our love was a powerful connection that caused us to break all the rules and go against our superiors.

  A noise up in the trees brings me back to the present. Stepping back, I hold Mason’s surprised gaze. I grasp instantly that not only was I kissing him in the past, but in the present, too. Acting on the memory of long-ago, at some point I’d reached out and pressed my lips to his at this point in time.

  “What...?” The question dies as comprehension sets in. He knows. He saw the same thing I did. He’s now aware I hadn’t momentarily lost my mind. “That’s not possible.”

  My feet move on their own volition, taking several steps away from him. “A lot of unlikely things have come to pass tonight. Don’t you think?” And I can make sense of none of it. I’m still confused as to what exactly is going on.

  “But...I would have remembered you. I should have. I don’t...get it.” Frustration accompanies each word. I can read indecision in his expression. “I couldn’t have forgotten something so important.” But even I can see that he did. He didn’t remember me anymore than I did him.

  “It looks like we have a past neither of us remembers. Someone tried very hard to make us forget, but why?”

  A branch snaps above us, focusing our attention to the fact that we’re not alone.

  “Daya.”

  I’m standing next to him before he can request it of me. “Up in the trees.” I unsheathe the katana, spreading my legs apart as I take on a defensive stance. With bow and arrow in hand, Mason flanks my backside, his eyes alert to any movements in the trees above our heads.

  “There.” I point to a massive shadow scrambling from one tree to another. “Is that a Nightcrawler?”

  “Can’t be. Nightcrawlers don’t have wings.” And this thing, whatever it is, has two massive, leathery wings big enough to block our view of the black sky above. “Wait. I don’t believe this.” He marches forward, his head tilted back, eyes on the giant shadow looming over us. “Pholos?”

  “Who?”

  The branch where the winged creature is perched on snaps. The thing takes flight, shooting up into the sky like a torpedo. It flies straight for a very brief amount of time, its large wings folded back as it ascends. Then it rotates in midair, changing course, now targeting us as it begins an unnaturally fast descent.

  All I see are those bat-like wings swooping toward us. It’s getting closer with each second, as we stand staring in awe at such a magnificent looking, yet horrifying creature.

  “Mason.” I yell and wield the katana in front of me, fully prepared for combat. “What is he doing?”

  “I don’t know.” Mason gets ready as the creature advances at speeds incapable by any living being on earth, except this isn’t your ordinary brute. This is something more. Could very well be dangerous and I have the ugly feeling I’m about to find out.

  “Take a step back,” he orders.

  I stand in next to him, eyes on the target. The wings flap with unexpected power, lifting debris as it grows progressively closer to us. A cloud of dust filled with bits and pieces of leaves and small twigs shoots by us as the pressure created by the flapping wings increases. I fight to breathe, but it’s hard to do while keeping the tiny particles out of my mouth and nose. Somehow I manage to stay focused on the task ahead. This is do or die. The creature shows no signs of stopping and we seem to be what it’s aiming for.

  It beats its wings with more determination as it approaches. However, just as it comes down low enough to reach us with those gargoyle-like feet, it veers to my right and speeds past me. I whirl around in disbelief, not really sure what the hell just happened, when I see the long haired, dark gray beast land on a Nightcrawler right behind us.

  Pandemonium. Two colossal creatures battle for survival. The grayish winged creature clearly has the upper hand. It barely leaves the Nightcrawler with enough time to defend itself before two hands equipped with long claws rip into the shadowy figure as if it is made of paper.

  “What the hell is going on?” I ask, but there’s no time for a response from Mason as another Nightcrawler makes itself known to my right. “We were being followed this whole time.”

  “Watch it.” Mason warns as the Nightcrawler charges in my direction with the speed of a racecar. I roll to my left just in time to avoid its massive girth from crashing into me. I jump to my feet immediately and spin to my right, keeping the katana in front of me as I face what could be the very messenger of death.

  This brute has no discernible features. All I see is a massive shadow with glowing red eyes and smoke exiting a pair of holes where its nostrils should be, but it is enough to send a shiver down my spine. It may lack a physical body but it is no less intimidating than any other otherworldly creature.

  The Nightcrawler turns its full attention on me as another of its comrades joins the fun and decides to become a problem for Mason. It’s a one on one match now. Three against three. I don’t know where this Pholos demon stands but as long as gives me some space I can focus on the hound dog in front of me.

  The Nightcrawler races toward me a second time, but I’m ready. I wait, anticipating its every move. I know it’s going to charge like a rabid predator, tearing into my flesh the second it makes contact with my body, but I’m not about to give him the satisfaction. I’d rather die by my own hand first.

  It sprints determinately forward, but at the last possible second I step to the side, slashing through the creature’s shadowy figure. It screeches in agony and takes a swipe with one oversized paw as it turns to face me once more, but I protect my head by brandishing the sword in front of me. The Nightcrawler’s paw is sliced clean off by the katana. Howling in anger, it backs off as smoke and an acrid odor begins to emanate from the wound. Now having sustained yet another injury, I decide to end it once in for all before it remembers what it came here to do.

  Careful not to get caught off guard by the screaming banshee, I go in for the kill. In one hurried move, I stab the figure in front of me, burying the katana as deep as it will go. The Nightcrawler rises to its full height and throws its massive head back, screeching and howling as it disintegrates into specks of black ash, carried away by a light breeze.

  The katana falls to the ground a moment later. I pick it up, grateful to be in possession of the magically infused sword otherwise there’s no way I would have ever managed to kill a Nightcrawler. The magic it was blessed with must be powerful, which makes me wonder again about who gave them to Mason. For what purpose?

  With this in mind, I turn to where I last spotted him, but I’m caught by complete surprise when a grayish hand suddenly grabs hold of my neck, its fingers tightening around my throat as a pair of emerald eyes stare down at me with a mixture of curiosity and anger.

  This up close I can see the being’s features a little more clearly. I find his facial characteristics outrageously handsome. He looks nothing like I expected him to. Though the color of his skin resembles a two week old corpse, his features are subtle and even beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips, nose straight and almost feminine in its appearance. His long hair falls s
traight down to a pair of broad shoulders. I can’t see more below the base of the neck, but I can already tell he boasts a muscled chest.

  Since when are demons this good-looking?

  Demons, I know from first-hand experience, are foul, evil, ugly creatures with no souls, but this winged brute holding my life, literally, in the palm of his hands, appears to be different. Something about him beckons a deeper inspection. Had he not been determined to end my existence, I might have taken the time to get to know what makes him so contrastive.

  “Let go of me,” I croak out, suddenly desperate to be let free. I seriously doubt he has any intention of doing that but I don’t want to die. Not without finding out what led Mason to me or why.

  “Why should I?”

  “Let. Go. Of. Me,” I demand a second time. Oddly enough, his fingers slack and he releases me. I backtrack, clutching the katana to me in case I have to use it. I can’t win a battle with this creature, but if it comes down to it I’ll protect myself. All I truly need is one good hit with the sword and he will, hopefully, be on the expressway to the Underworld.

  Disregarding me as if I’m not even present, Pholos turns to address Mason. “You defy orders and fail to collect her soul? Why is that you risked your life and hers by bringing her here?” Pholo’s teeth are as white as snow, and with the exception of a pair of unusually long fangs they are no different from my own.

  “Pholos.” Mason steps forward, arrow aimed at his master’s heart. “You sent me to collect her soul purposely knowing I couldn’t do it.”

  The leathery wings fold back behind Pholos as he turns slightly to his left, his emerald eyes on Mason. “What rights have you to accuse me of this?”

  I keep an eye out for what I assume will be a nasty battle. Mason may be well armed against the goliath of a demon, but Pholos is no easy opponent.