by Jaime Reed
“You make it sound like potty training a dog.”
“There is no real difference. Caleb needs to apply proper training. He must know himself to put leash on his demon. And he needs to feed regularly.”
“What do you mean ‘feed’?”
“Capone is berserk because Caleb does not feed him. We feed off human life energy. There is no cutting corners. We have to. But we control the amount we take. Caleb holds back, denies Capone what he needs. He uses fake stimulation and it won’t work anymore.”
I nodded. “The sweets.”
Nadine’s head popped up. “You notice he eats more and more lately? It doesn’t fool Capone anymore, and he is not satisfied. The spirit starves for real energy so he gives off heavier signals, like distress call, which is why women attack Caleb now.”
“How can Caleb stop it?”
“Capone needs strict eating habits and discipline. And Caleb needs new stimulation, true pleasure, true connection. I believe he knows this, but he’s too scared to try it.” Green eyes looked pointedly at me.
I recoiled. “What? Me?”
“You make him happy. Why not?”
Slack-jawed, I stared at her for a minute, appalled at her lack of concern. “Do I look like a Happy Meal to you? He’s not feeding off me.”
“If he disciplines himself, there should be no problem. Besides, the spirit feeds off Caleb’s joy.”
“What if I’m not around? I don’t want him depending on me to have joy, and I don’t want our ... whatever this is to be based off his need,” I disputed, getting more annoyed with the argument, and the Hacky Sack boys who kept whistling at Nadine.
“You cannot fake or force happiness. It comes from within. This is Caleb’s mistake. Anyway, this can be managed. My mom is carrier in my family, and she’s been married to my dad for thirty-two years. My parents are happy and healthy. This malady can be contained and not be a burden.”
For some reason, I thought of that Valtrex commercial where the couple skips along the beach, despite the fact that one of them has a highly contagious, incurable disease. I imagined Caleb and me in that situation.
We’re holding hands and he looks at the camera and says, “I have a demonic parasite.”
“And I don’t,” I say with a smile.
I got so lost in the daydream, Nadine had to repeat her question. “I said what will you do about Caleb? I know this is great pressure on you, but if you help him through this, just until he handles his demon, the transition will run smooth. He trusts you, and so do I. I know you won’t compromise our situation.”
I shook my head. “No, I wouldn’t rat you out. I mean, who would believe me anyway?”
“So will you help? He needs you.”
Oh hell, how could I refuse those sad eyes? Things would be much easier if Caleb was a vicious killer with no soul. But he was as much of a victim as those women, signifying him as the worst sociopath in the world. I’d seen bees attack with more organization. For the sake of the remaining female population, I had to help.
“I guess,” I said after a long breath. “I’ve got nothing else to do this summer.”
“Thank you,” Nadine said before cutting her eyes at the frat boys, who motioned her to join them. I’d known it was a lost cause the moment they spotted her. Cambion or not, men came to Nadine, not the other way around. She would never be dubbed as vain or high maintenance, but she possessed an air of majesty that made her unapproachable, unattainable. I could only pray that the guys owned enough sense to keep their distance. It was a moral debate over what was scarier, her hostile rejection, or what would happen if she accepted.
“Does your spirit have a name?” I asked.
“Lilith.”
I stared her down. “For real? Please tell me you’re joking.”
“She likes the name. It suits her.” Nadine showed me the gold chain on her wrist. For as long as I’d known her, she’d never taken it off, not even to wash her hands at work.
I fingered the gold plate with the name engraved in the center. “Well, aren’t you sentimental.”
“Everyone in my family has one with the spirit’s name. Trust me, it has deeper purpose.”
Fiddling with her straw, Nadine’s eyes met everything in the field but my questioning gaze.
I moved on to a safer subject. “What makes you happy? How do you appease it between feedings?”
Immediately, Nadine’s body relaxed and stretched out like a lazy lioness, giving every male in the lawn something to think about late at night. “I meditate, do yoga, think of family, write poetry, and my job.”
“Which one?”
She looked at me as if the answer was obvious. “At day care center.”
“You like working around children?”
“Have you ever watch children at play? They are so full of life. They’re saturated in it. Their laugh, their vitality; it is in the air. You don’t need to touch them; just being near is feast.”
My stomach lurched as an image of a witch in a gingerbread house flashed in my mind.
“You feed off children?”
“Not in way you think. I just watch them play. Like I said, their energy is concentrated; it coats the skin like heat. They bring me joy, and my spirit is pleased.”
“That’s gross, Nadine.”
She sat up straight, her face hard with indignation. “I have never harmed a child, Sam. Never! Unlike Caleb, I can control my being.”
“So what can Caleb do to control his?”
“Spend more time with you, and find something that makes him happy. He needs to know himself; find what excites him.”
“He likes roller coasters,” I offered.
“Adrenaline is good stimulate, but who wants to almost die all the time?”
I nodded in agreement. “We’ll work on something. But in the meantime, I have to help keep the hungry women at bay. Caleb’s afraid to fight them off.”
Nadine scoffed. “Oh, he has to get over that.”
“That’s what I said. He needs to defend himself.”
“He gets that from his brothers. They love women, but they are all gentlemen. They fear their strength, their power, and would face harm than hurt a woman. This aggression is new to Caleb.”
Rubbing her chin, Nadine examined the clouds. “I’ll take him under my wing for a while. Let me deal with spiritual stuff; you help with emotional stuff. Deal?”
“What about the women? He needs some protection.”
“He will need to learn to fight. You and I can achieve this, yes?” She gave me a mischievous wink.
I flashed her an impish grin, for great minds think alike. “Operation Demon House Training will begin.” We shook hands, and I thought about something that could play to my advantage. “When you feed from kids, are there any side effects?”
“No. They just get sleepy. Like I said, I do not take enough to harm. And children are pure and immune to my draw.”
“In that case, next time I have to babysit my sister and brother, I’m taking you with me. Trust me, Lilith will be full in five minutes.”
17
After our powwow, I spent the day searching self-defense classes online, but all the lessons were for women.
What was a man to do for protection in this town? I researched martial arts instructors and printed out a few classes located around the peninsula. At work, I looked up some self-defense books, but ended up finding the next book to share at our monthly meeting. I knew Caleb was too proud to ask for help. Avoidance and denial were his coping devices, so getting his cooperation would require an iron fist in a velvet glove.
The next day, I decided to go boot camp on Caleb. Scoring his address from Nadine, I took it upon myself to hunt him down. He lived in a simple town house in a middle-class neighborhood, one of those subdivisions where every yard looked the same. While casing the joint, I learned a lot about Mr. Baker. For starters, he recycled, he brought his sugar addiction home with him, and he had the nosiest neighbors on the
planet. But then again, I did look a bit suspect peeking through his windows.
He was off on Tuesdays and the Jeep was parked in front, so I knew he was home. After the fifth knock, I added a kick to his door. If the pounding didn’t wake him up, the whistle blow in his face as he opened the door got the job done.
He stumbled back, stunned and disoriented, and I took that moment to invite myself in.
Shaking out of his daze, he closed the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m gonna help you fight.”
“At ten-thirty in the morning?”
“The sooner, the better. Now get dressed. We gotta meet Dougie in thirty minutes.” I took a moment to observe his attire, something that he would’ve liked to have kept secret. With his tousled hair, rumpled white T-shirt, and plaid boxers, he didn’t look a day over twelve.
Uncomfortable with his state of dress, he tugged at his shirt. “I still feel funky after what happened Sunday night. I just wanna relax, eat Fruity Pebbles, and watch The Price Is Right.”
“Too damn bad.” I blew the whistle again. “You want me to help you defend yourself, or what?”
He eyed me with distrust. “No.”
“Well, you’re getting it anyway. Nadine and I are gonna school you on how to handle your roommate.”
“Nadine? What—”
“Yep, so get dressed and prepare for battle.”
He rubbed his face, shaking the cobwebs from his brain. “Look, I appreciate your help and all, but you don’t know anything about this. I can do this on my own.”
“If you could handle this on your own, women wouldn’t be dropping like flies.” Having gained his full attention, I continued. “I want to believe you. And a part of me keeps trying to separate you from Capone, but that doesn’t work. You know that better than I do. I want to help you. If you don’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. Because if you don’t, this is the last time you’ll see me.”
One could hear a pin drop in the room.
I learned quickly that Caleb didn’t cater to threats, nor did he fall out in a temper tantrum. Instead, he shut down, which was a whole lot worse. Of all the terrifying moments while in his presence, the glacial stare aimed at me ranked number one.
Lethal detachment darkened his eyes and made the temperature in the room drop twenty degrees. Time stood still while he deliberated the pros and cons of having me in his life. This debate took a lot longer than I would’ve liked. Only when he came to a decision did I realize I had been holding my breath.
“Can I at least eat some cereal?” he asked, thoroughly annoyed.
“No. Now get dressed.”
“When did you get so bossy?”
“When I found out you loved it. Now go. There’s much to cover.”
Cursing under his breath, he disappeared up the stairs.
To kill time, I gave his place a good look. It was like a rave threw up in there: glow sticks, light machines, beanbags, and a wall shelf loaded with vinyl albums. The only recognizable pieces of furniture were the couch, a coffee table, and the biggest television I’d ever seen. The screen stretched the entire wall.
Caleb wasn’t lying about the crossbow. It was mounted on the wall to my left in company with a longbow, a Celtic sword, and five international trophies. The sight of that just led to more confusion. Caleb had the ability to fight; he just didn’t actually fight. He would rather get beat up than unleash the wrath of Capone, which wasn’t going to fly anymore.
“This is a nice place, but a bit out of your price range, isn’t it?” I called out.
“Yeah, well, I used my inheritance to pay for it!” he yelled from his room.
Caleb told me that his family had money, but I thought he was trying to impress me. I should have known better. Mom taught me that the wealthier someone was, the less they talked about it.
“Oh God, you’re a trust-fund baby like Mia,” I groaned.
“Not really. It’s what my mom left in her will. Since I have five other siblings, my share isn’t that big, plus I didn’t get all of it at once. I’ll get a small portion every three years until I’m thirty, which means, I still have to work like normal people.” His sarcasm filtered through the walls.
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Wow. That’s cold.”
“My folks didn’t believe in giving their kids a free ride. They made us earn everything we got. You tend to appreciate what you have and you fight hard to keep it.”
I laughed to myself. Cake Boy was preaching to the choir. “Builds character.”
Drifting toward the sound of footsteps, I found Caleb leaning against the wall banister, watching me. His eyes traveled to my legs, which were fully on display. I wore green athletic shorts with striped knee-high socks and cleats. Twirling the whistle in my hand, I said, “Put your eyes back in your head, Mr. Baker. We’ve got work to do.”
He pushed off the wall and stalked toward me. “It’s dangerous for us to be alone like this, don’t you think?”
“It sure is, but I promise I won’t hurt you.”
“Come here,” he commanded softly, his direct gaze never wavering.
I strolled forward until I stood in front of him. He reached to place his arms around my waist, but I thrust my hand out to stop him. Dropping his hand, he lowered his head, yielding to my unspoken decree: Access denied. We had a long road ahead of us, and trust was our number-one issue, a privilege he had taken for granted, an honor he had to reclaim. Dejection shadowed his eyes as he battled with some unmet necessity that raged within, a call that he fought to ignore. The shuffling of feet and itchy, fidgeting hands made his impatience hard to watch. Unsure of my own restraint, this served as motivation to break through his wall, to ensure that this was only a temporary exile.
He circled around me, close enough to share breathing space, but far enough for our skin to never meet. He stood behind me, and I fought the urge to lean into him. My joints locked in place, keeping stone still, or else the slightest move might rouse the beast.
Warm breath fanned across my earlobe as he whispered, “You’re still here with me, Samara, and that’s enough. For now.” Then he moved to the door, leaving me to endure the high-powered voltage charging my body.
My breath shivered between my teeth; my skin felt raw and vulnerable against the elements. Once the tremors subsided, I followed him out with unsteady limbs.
As he locked the door, he asked, “Where are we going?”
“To Dougie’s. He’s gonna help you with some combat moves.”
He stopped and looked at me. “Doug? Are you kidding?”
“Dougie’s been dating Mia since freshman year. If anyone knows how to dodge crazy women, it’s him.”
“Okay, here’s the thing: you gotta avoid the claws, especially the acrylic kind. Now a lot of girls like to get all in your face. That’s when you back up. The key is to keep the distance.” Dougie pivoted and jumped in circles around Caleb, throwing jabs in the air.
“When they get violent, most girls go into this weird windmill thing, like this.” He flung his arms around his head. “It looks nuts, but you gotta duck to the side or jump around. If the girl’s a shorty, you can do the face-mush, like this here.” Dougie reached over and trapped his hand over my face before I could prepare.
“Okay, you see how Sam’s swinging around? She might even bite; that’s fine, as long as you keep her at arm’s length. Now if the chick is tall, you can always trip her legs, or if she’s wearing pumps, you can snap the heel. How fast can you run, man?”
Caleb looked puzzled. “Pretty fast.”
Dougie nodded, still palming my face. “Good, you’ll need it, especially if a chick is determined.”
Pushing Dougie off, I joined the discussion. “Another thing, you might want to tighten your security around your house. Get a few more locks around the windows, and develop a relationship with the neighbors so they can keep a watch out on your place. You also need to find at least three different ways to get to work, in case s
omeone follows you home. Oh, and—”
“Hold on,” Caleb interrupted me. “Do I really need to go through all that?”
“Yes,” I said. “These are crazy times, son.”
“Never underestimate irrational women,” Dougie said. “You ever see Fatal Attraction? You don’t have any pets, do you?”
“No,” Caleb replied.
I nodded. “Good. Now, you may have to carry a can of pepper spray with you. I would let you borrow my mom’s stun gun, but, well, it isn’t exactly legal in this state.”
Caleb and Dougie eyed me askance.
Propping my hands on my hips, I stared them down. “All right, look, these are precautions females have to take. It only seems weird to you because you’re men, but women had to go through this for years—always looking over their shoulders, making sure no one is following them. You can’t travel alone, or wander into the wrong end of town. Welcome to my world, guys.”
I sat on the sidelines as the two sparred for a few hours. Dougie’s backyard was the perfect spot for basic training, with an acre-wide strip of green on a hill that overlooked the neighborhood golf course and duck pond below. I stared as the moving clouds glided over the clay-tiled roof. The house had more windows than walls, very Zen with foliage and smooth rocks strategically placed around the lawn. Much to Dougie’s embarrassment, his folks were closet hippies—very big on Eastern culture—and their home reminded me of a Hindu temple on a sacred mountaintop.
I drank in the scenery while screams of agony came from the yard.
Dougie went down a practice drill and used his little sister Colleen as a crash test dummy. Caleb’s insistence not to harm an eight-year-old girl was inevitably his downfall. She had him on the ground in a pretzel wrestler move until he cried uncle. When Dougie’s back turned, the biting began.
“Would someone help me, please?” Caleb choked out.
“Just walk it off, man.” Dougie gave a flippant wave of his hand, then joined me at the picnic bench.
“So why isn’t Mia at our training session?” I asked.
“Oh, you think I’m stupid, huh?” Dougie snorted. “I don’t want her to know my guard tactics.”
