Lost Girl: Hidden Book One

by Vanderlinden, Colleen

I shook my head. “No thanks.” He shrugged and headed up the stairway. “Just don’t hurt the imps.”

  Brennan stopped still, turned, and came back down the stairs. “Imps? What the hell are imps doing here?”

  “They’re hers,” Nain said, pointing at me.

  “Oooooh,” Ada said knowingly, winking at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “That’s why he’s got a stick up his ass.”

  “I do not—” Nain started.

  “Molly’s stronger than Nain, Molly’s stronger than Nain,” Ada sang, laughing. Brennan joined her.

  “I already knew she was stronger than me,” Nain said quietly, and I could feel the irritation rolling off of him.

  “Yeah, but now everybody knows it,” Brennan said, still laughing.

  “I need answers, Nain. Now,” I said, standing up and walking over to him. “And I need them before I Hulk-smash you.”

  “Yeah? Try it, Molls,” he said. His entire posture changed, ready to take me on.

  “You knew that was going to happen,” I said, feeling my anger spike. I felt raw, ripped open.

  “I had a feeling,” he admitted.

  “And you didn’t think to share that little tidbit with me?” I shouted.

  “I wasn’t sure. What the hell was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Molls, those little imps might decide to serve you, so be ready to have an imp army at your disposal’?”

  “You could have said something. Could have warned me that this was even a possibility What the fuck am I supposed to do with them?” I shouted, gesturing up toward the roof.

  “Why do I have to give you all the answers? You’re smart. Figure it out,” he said, snarl in his voice.

  And that did it. We started yelling at each other then, and I called him several choice names, and he kept drilling home how weak I was for someone so strong, and the more we shouted and argued, the higher our powers spiked, until it felt like the air around us was going to explode with it.

  “I never even fucking wanted this,” I shouted, and he was about to respond when Ada cut in.

  “Hey, angry demons!”

  We both looked at her.

  “One: do you feel the building shaking? You want to bring down a few tons of rubble on us, because that’s what you’re about to do if you don’t calm the hell down.”

  I forced my power down a little, felt Nain’s draw down a bit as well.

  “Second: both of you are doing that freaky-ass demonic glowing eyes thing, and it’s gonna give me nightmares. Knock it off.”

  “My eyes are not….” I began, then I looked at Nain. His eyes glowed, orangey-red. “Oh, that is creepy,” I murmured.

  “Actually, I think it’s kind of a hot look on you,” Brennan said to me. “Nain, not so much.”

  I shook my head, felt the last of my power slither away from me. The next time I glanced at Nain, his eyes were normal, but still burning holes through me.

  Ada laughed. “Thank you for not destroying our humble abode,” she said. Then she looked at Nain. “Honey, it’s been decades since I’ve seen your eyes do that.”

  He glanced over at her. “It’s been decades since I’ve dealt with anyone as infuriating as her,” he said jerking his head toward me.

  “You know what I think? I think you two should go somewhere, preferably an open area, maybe that empty lot across the street? And you should talk about this.” Ada said. “Try not to level the neighborhood.”

  Nain walked out, and I followed. He stalked across the deserted street, and sat on what was left of the brick wall that used to surround the lot. I sat next to him. I could still feel irritation rolling off of him.

  “I need answers. You’re the only one who can give them to me. You know that,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to fight with you right now.”

  “Liar.”

  I shook my head. “All right. I do want to fight with you. But I need answers more than I need to fight.”

  “Fine.”

  “Can I trust them? If I have them help me, won’t they just run back to their old master and tell him what we’re doing?”

  Nain shook his head. “They can’t. Once they give their allegiance to a new master, they serve them, completely. It’s not possible for them to double-cross you.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s just not how they work. You’ve read fairy tales about beings that can’t tell a lie if you catch them during the full moon, or give them something, or shit like that, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay. This is the real-life inspiration for stories like that. They can’t lie, now that they’ve sworn to serve you. The moment they bent knee to you, they gave up the ability to serve any other.”

  “Until someone stronger comes along,” I said.

  “I don’t think that’s something you’ll have to worry about.”

  I shook my head. “All right. So what can I have them do?”

  “Anything you want. Have them look for your lost girls. More eyes and ears out there. Have them get information for you. Have them scope out neighborhoods for us. Have them bring you a sandwich and give you a manicure. Whatever.”

  “Handy,” I murmured.

  “You could say that.”

  “So they can talk?”

  He nodded. “They’ll only talk to you, unless you command them to talk to another, or give them an order of some kind that involves talking.”

  I watched him. A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only visible indication that he was still pissed at me. I nudged him with my elbow. “So...can they live here with you?”

  “Fuck no, Molly. Creepy little bastards.”

  “I had to try.”

  Chapter Seven

  I ended up bringing the imps home with me. The dogs were less than thrilled with their new companions. I gave the imps the run of the basement, attic, and yard, and then I put them to work.

  There was a little girl I was looking for. Kayla Martin. She’d been missing for almost two weeks, and everyone suspected her father. No one had seen him since Kayla had gone missing from in front of her house.

  I sent the imps out, told them what I was looking for, and within hours they had a name. A friend of the girl’s father, who worked at the same garage he did. I hung around, listened in on the man’s thoughts. He knew where Kayla was. He was considering turning the father in. But he was afraid. He didn’t want to get involved. I could see the house, clear as day, in his mind.

  I sent the imps out again with a description of the house and general area, and they had an address for me within an hour.

  A girl could get used to this.

  I got ready. Dressed, filled the pockets of my cargo pants with things that I seemed to need less and less now that I was training with Brennan and Nain more often. My power was already higher than was comfortable; stress always did that. I gritted my teeth against it and tried to focus.

  I looked at Kayla’s photo from the newspaper. Beautiful little girl, a pawn in a fight over a nasty break-up. Soft, curly head of black hair, eyes like dark chocolate, dimpled smile, so full of joy it hurt me to look at her.

  I patted Kayla’s photo, went through the naming of the dead, my lost girls I’d found too late. By the time I was done, emotion, whatever had been, was gone, and I was cold. One thought: find my lost girl.

  I jumped into the Barracuda, two of the imps in the backseat. I was going to see if they’d be useful as lookouts. I still didn’t quite trust them, but I had to admit they were damn useful. I headed to the house I’d seen in the man’s mind, the address the imps had given me. It was there, as he’d envisioned it, just off of Mack. Fire had destroyed the roof and parts of the second floor, but it was a brick house, and still appeared to be mostly solid. I walked up to it, tried to remember to breathe.

  I listened as I got close to the house. Not a sound, other than the chirp of crickets, the distant sounds of traffic. I crept inside, one hand on my pepper spray, another on my flashlight. I glanced up and
saw stars through the roof. She wouldn’t be up there. I headed through, to what used to be a kitchen, long stripped of anything even remotely useful, right down to the copper piping behind the walls. I paused at the top of the basement stairs. If she was here, experience told me, this was where he was holding her. I went down, fully aware that if someone decided to follow me in, I could be dead before I knew what was happening. It was nothing new.

  Down the rickety stairs, listening for any sound that might alert me to danger. The basement smelled of dampness, urine, feces. And something else, something worse. I looked through the small basement, saw nothing other than dirt, debris, stains on the floor that turned my stomach. I swallowed, forcing myself to keep my nerves down. It didn’t work. My power spiked in response to my fear, the coppery smell of blood, to the knowledge that I had very likely failed this little girl. I felt rage creeping in, and I was soon almost delirious with it.

  I headed back up the stairs. The lots around this house were like those in my neighborhood: overgrown and mostly empty except for decaying homes and dumped trash. I started looking, knowing, and dreading, what I would find.

  It didn’t take long. An area of flattened grass caught my eye, and when I wandered over to it, freshly turned earth. I stood there. Maybe it’s a dog, I tried to tell myself. Maybe someone buried valuables there. Knew it was a lie.

  One of the imps walked up and stood beside me. I couldn’t tell them apart.

  “We can dig, if Mistress wants,” it said. I nodded.

  They dug in silence for a few minutes, revealing what my gut already told me we’d find there. Her father had barely taken the time to dig deeply enough to bury Kayla securely. She was still dressed in the pink t-shirt she’d been wearing when she’d gone missing. A bullet to the chest had turned most of it brownish red. The imps turned, looked at me.

  I knelt, put my face in my hands. Not praying. Begging forgiveness. I’d been too slow. I should have moved faster, started looking as soon as I’d found out about Kayla. Counted, ridiculous as it was, on a father’s love preventing him from hurting his daughter. I bit my lip, hard, felt my power soar within me in response to my rage.

  I looked at the girl again. So innocent. What had she gone though in the last days of her life? Tears stung my eyes. I’d never lost a child before. A baby. I’d lost too many grown women, a few teenagers. Seeing Kayla’s tiny body destroyed me. She’d had her whole life ahead of her.

  “I’m sorry, Kayla,” I whispered, covering the body again, the imps helping. We had her nearly covered when one of the imps hissed “Mistress!” and I heard the grass crunch behind me.

  “Stand up, real slow,” a deep voice said. I took a breath, and stood. Cursed myself for getting so caught up that I dropped my defenses. “Turn around.”

  I did. The girl’s father stood before me. I recognized him from the newspaper stories. He was short, stocky. Bald, with a neat goatee. Dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, as if he was getting ready to go meet the boys for a beer, instead of coming to check up on his dead daughter’s grave. The daughter he’d murdered. I could see it there in his mind, over and over again. Anger and fear rolled off of him, and it turned my remaining sadness to rage, fed my demon in a way that nothing else could.

  “You shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Was it worth it? Did killing that baby solve all of your problems?”

  He didn’t answer me, but the gun started to shake as his hand started trembling. The way he stared at me, the terror rolling off of him, made me wonder if my eyes were doing the freaky demon glowy thing again. A moment listening to his thoughts confirmed it, and I smiled at him, baring my teeth. It wasn’t meant to be comforting.

  He lifted the gun higher, aiming for my head.

  I didn’t hesitate. Attacked his mind, ordered him to drop the gun. There was no persuasion, no willing. I just forced my way in and made him do what I wanted.

  God, it felt good.

  I could feel my power gathering around me, knew that if I didn’t control myself, I would destroy him.

  He still held the gun, still pointed it at me, though he was screaming now, words unintelligible in his fear. The acrid smell of sweat, the scent of urine, stained the air, his terror permeating the night.

  More.

  I forced myself all the way into his mind, and he shrieked in agony. The sound sent chills down my spine. I felt my power grow, and watched him kill his daughter, bury her, feeling nothing but hatred for her mother. Nothing for his own flesh and blood.

  I felt the moment I lost control. I ripped, like a wild animal, some kind of vicious predator. Slowly but surely drove him insane, until there was nothing left, until he lost the will and ability to live. His shrieks died as he did, and he fell to the ground, twitching as the life left his body.

  My power snapped out. Too much. I closed my eyes. My head was pounding, and I could feel blood pouring from my nose. I knelt down and retched. I couldn’t move. There wasn’t an ounce of strength left in me, and all I could do was look over at Kayla’s father’s body.

  Murderer.

  I was a murderer.

  I drifted out of consciousness, only coming to when I heard footsteps crunching in the dry grass behind me. Felt worry, and a warm hand on my back. The imps were back, crouching in front of me.

  “Oh my God,” Brennan said behind me.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked weakly, my voice muffled by the tall grass. I didn’t have the strength to pick my head up.

  “I felt you. You were pulling enough power to level a small city. Jesus, Molly.” He sat down next to me. “The imps led me the rest of the way.”

  “She was just a baby,” I said, my face still buried in the grass.

  “I know,” he murmured, sadness from him, worry. He was still and steady beside me, and I appreciated the calm.

  “I was too late.” I felt my head spinning. I forced myself up and looked at Brennan. He put an arm around my back, helped me sit up the rest of the way. I closed my eyes, and his arm tightened around me. We sat that way for a while, in silence.

  “You’re in no shape to drive,” he finally said, his voice soft, seemingly aware of how my head pounded. “Let me drive you home.”

  I nodded, and Brennan held a hand out to me and pulled me up. The trip home was a blur, and the last thing I saw was Brennan closing my bedroom door behind him on the way out.

  When I woke up, I was somewhere soft. I opened my eyes slightly, then closed them again. It hurt too much to open them. I lay there for a few more minutes. Everything hurt. I took stock. My body ached as if I’d gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali and didn’t have the power to self-heal. My head pounded, and I felt like I had thrown up everything, including a few internal organs.

  I could feel power in my house. More than just me. Brennan’s pulsing energy. Ada’s steady hum. Stone. Ah, crap.

  Nain was there, too.

  I groaned and pulled the covers back over my head. Worked at maintaining my mental shield. It only made the headache worse, but I didn’t need Nain in my mind right now.

  Murderer.

  The thought came, unbidden and definitely unwanted. Me, the real me, the me that was more about saving people than destroying them….that “me” was sickened, depressed, horrified at what I’d done.

  But my demon, the part of me that I was having a really hard time claiming or accepting, was thrilled. Satisfied.

  How did Nain live like this?

  Remembering that he was there, I knew I had to get up. Nain would not leave until he’d made his point. Loudly. I grimaced and tossed the covers back and swung my legs off the side of the bed. I was still in the clothes I’d been wearing the night before, but someone had removed my shoes.

  I got up and made my way to the dresser to grab some clean clothes, then across the hall to the little bathroom.

  The overhead light made my head hurt so much the room spun. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, then opened them. I looked in the mirror.
I was pale, even for me. And my eyes were dark, the normal gray more of a gunmetal. I frowned at my reflection. My face was clean. I distinctly remembered bleeding all over myself.

  I slowly washed and got dressed in a pair of jeans and a black top. I brushed my hair and clipped it loosely at the back of my head. Then I went into my office and clicked on the desk lamp. Looked at the bulletin boards.

  I gently removed Kayla’s photo from the “lost” board and tacked it up onto the third board. The one I hated. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, forcing myself to look at Kayla’s face.

  I would have stayed there, replaying all of my faults, every single thing I could have done differently, but I could feel Nain’s power roaring from nearby, maybe the back yard. He wouldn’t leave until we’d had this out. I steeled myself and made my way downstairs. I could hear the television on in the living room. It sounded like “I Love Lucy” reruns, the laugh track echoing up the stairway. I started down the stairs, and saw that Brennan was sitting on the bottom step, arms resting on his knees, watching TV.

  “Why are you sitting there?” I asked as I crept down behind him. He turned his head and glanced at me.

  “Nain’s on the warpath. I didn’t want him to bother you until you rested more,” he said, turning back to the television. I sat on the step above his, studied his back, his shoulders. His hair just brushed the top of the collar of the flannel shirt he was wearing.

  “What time did he show up?”

  “Around six.”

  “What time is it now?

  “Little after eleven.”

  “Please tell me you haven’t been sitting on the stairs for five hours.”

  “Okay.”

  We sat in silence for a minute. I glanced toward the living room. Veronica, Ada, and Stone were all sitting in there. Veronica caught my eye and gave me a tiny wave. I gave what was probably a sickly smile in return.

  “How are you feeling?” Brennan finally asked, still facing toward the living room.

  “Like shit,” I said.

  He nodded. I didn’t get him at all. I could feel trepidation, concern, from the others. I wondered if they knew exactly what had happened. But from him, nothing ever but warmth. He knew exactly what I’d done. And of the whole group, I’d come to see Brennan as the most altruistic, the most just genuinely good. Yeah, he was terrifying in his way. But you just knew, with Brennan, that he’d use every bit of his power to do the right thing. He should be horrified, sickened by me.