by Jill Cooper
Then came, the screams, the calling. The running.
Someone else had stepped through the bar. Even though Amanda didn’t see her face, she recognized the black boots and the leather jacket she wore. Jessica. Her poor sister. Amanda had to help her. Just had to. Amanda couldn’t stand the withering of Jessica’s soul for long.
“She was here,” Amanda said to both Duncan and Mike, who flanked her on either side, like she needed a chaperone. Amanda wanted to read the room fast, before the ill feeling leaching her stomach grew to the point where she couldn’t.
Duncan’s face fell. He didn’t want to see inside the bar; Amanda felt that come off him in waves, and Mike? He was as stone-faced as ever. His heart, maybe even more so.
Tall and strong, Amanda made her way to the front door. She tore the yellow police tape down and placed her hand on the small sign that hung on the front. Police Crime Scene—Do not Enter.
Bloods respected the law, maybe they didn’t always obey, but Amanda respected it. Still, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The hinges creaked and the dark bar came into focus. Tables were still pushed over, chairs were on their sides and all around them, little police tags with numbers for evidence.
Amanda’s arms splayed at her side and her skin vibrated with the evil that had happened here. Like a harp that strums its song, it traveled down her limbs only to go back up. The flood of emotion was at the gate and it was about to cast a tidal wave right over her body, but she needed to feel. Needed to see.
“Head downstairs if you will, Mike.” Amanda was barely able to get the words out before fear shrieked in her left ear. “See if you can get a sense of where Aunt Gwen went after she was set free.”
Confusion. Puzzlement, but Mike didn’t put his feelings into thoughts. He simply just left, did his task.
That was a good boy. What Amanda had to do was raw, personal, and though she was thankful to Mike, she didn’t know him. The only person she wanted there was Duncan.
Amanda turned her head as a wailing cry echoed through the room. It spiraled like a tornado towards the bar. The sound of glasses breaking tempered Amanda’s movements. Glancing down, she saw what was left of a beer bottle, its amber shards shining in the muted darkness. She lifted up her dress and stepped over it.
“You sure you’re strong enough for this?” Duncan’s voice softened, but his heart was filled with anxiety. Fear. Better than the anger he was filled with earlier. Her actions at the café were questionable, Duncan was right about that, but Amanda couldn’t stop who she was. Healers healed, she couldn’t just ignore that kind of pain.
“There’s not much choice, you know. What the police are saying…”
“That Ron did this?” Duncan snorted. “Never, he never—they were his brothers just as they were mine, so whatever monster did this…”
Amanda had her suspicions, but her heart was guarded. The last thing she wanted to see here was Jessica’s face. Like a child afraid to sleep in the dark, that’s how Amanda felt. That pain and panic bundled up all together in her stomach, but she approached the bar stool anyway and saw it was spotted with blood.
Still wet, in a splatter it fell from the countertop to the bar, dripping like an open faucet. So much blood, so much pain, there was no doubt what happened here was demonic.
Amanda’s hand floated above the bar stool. Her fingers quivered as her hand came down and touched the blood. Needed to feel, just as she needed not to. Amanda could never resist feeling, being one with that kind of pain. But this, she wasn’t prepared for the onslaught.
Her mind raced through time and space, now it was as if she were someone else. The pain came at her in a loop, a dagger plunged into her stomach. Then her back. Amanda cried out as the dagger was removed, but it wasn’t. It was just a memory, a feeling for those that died here. Still, she cradled her stomach with her free hand, while her other cemented her further into the barstool.
The memory kept coming even as waves of pain hit her abdomen, and then her head. The surges were so strong, Amanda tottered on her feet. Duncan took her waist, holding her up, and his worry—his concern—echoed through the fog of pain, but just barely.
“I’m all right.” Amanda said the words, but in her vision, she didn’t move her lips. Ron did, even though he was unconscious, slumped over onto that barstool.
They were flung back onto the ground together, Amanda and Ron intertwined. She could feel the hard floor as her head cracked into it and feel the knife placed into his hand. Even though Ron had been unconscious, Amanda saw the real killer’s face. How her red curls were plastered to her wet, crying face.
Jessica.
So much despair. She was desperate to stop. Be stopped. And she said something, a whisper? What had Jessica told Ron?
Amanda cried out, feeling Jessica’s spirit taking a mighty beating. It might have been Amanda’s scream, but it was Jessica’s pain. Her sorrow, her horror, at what she was being made to do. Jessica couldn’t stop it. Somehow Amanda had to find a way to stop it for her.
Arms shaking, Amanda began to slump. If not for Duncan’s strong arms catching her, Amanda sure as hell would’ve passed out on the ground. Her head rolled to the side as Duncan dragged her away. Her fingers no longer touching the blood, the world flashed in hues of orange and blue as the present rushed to collide with her.
Amanda gasped, eyes open, she saw Duncan’s concerned face peering down at her. “You know how to scare a guy; you know that? That scream…”
“It was Jessica’s.” Amanda grabbed the back of a chair to pull herself up, testing her wobbling legs. For now, everything wobbled like jelly, but she had to push on. “It was the scream she had inside, from watching everything Lourdes forced her to do.”
Duncan’s eyes crinkled in a scowl. “You’re not saying…”
“Ron isn’t the guilty party here,” Amanda felt how defensive Duncan was already. Even if she couldn’t feel it, she saw him straighten up and shift from one foot to the other. “You know the hold Lourdes has over her. It isn’t her fault, but these people are dead. For whatever reason, she gave the knife to Ron despite his innocence.”
Quiet fell over them and Amanda welcomed the brief distraction. She felt the rising need to vomit in her throat. She didn’t know if it was the emotion or the drugs, but her limbs shook and even her soul felt a gentle quiver.
Regret tumbled from Duncan. So much regret, that it nearly bowled Amanda right over. His eyes turned to the floor and Amanda felt the desperate need to bolster him up. Prove that they could somehow make this all right.
“Jessica said something to Ron. I don’t know what, I couldn’t make it out. We need to get in to see him.”
“We won’t get to him at this hour: it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
That was okay with Amanda. Her stomach felt sick, that slick feeling she got from eating too much cake. The room began to spin and Amanda struggled into the chair. “I just need to sit…for a moment.”
Moaning, Amanda closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Duncan was at her feet, kneeling in front. “We’re going to get you through this, Mandy, whatever it is you’re going through. I’ll see you through to the other side.”
Duncan took her hands and Amanda squeezed them hard, unable to stop herself from feeling everything he was feeling. Regret, fear, the burden of her and all the rest? Also something else…second chances? Second chances at what?
Her mind flashed and Amanda was no longer in the bar. Instead, she stood in a dingy old warehouse that stunk of fresh fish. Saltwater lingered just on the tip of the tongue, an essence of coastal living. That place was far from here.
The floor was slick with moisture and all around the walls exuded the stank of demons. The lace of drugs wafted through the air like a wisp of smoke. Amanda moved a plank of wood off to the side, but it wasn’t her hand, it was Duncan’s.
This was his memory.
Moved the plank of wood and revealed a dead woman’s body. Dressed like a stripper in
a sparkling black bikini, but with a body covered in bruises and scars, the woman’s blue eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Rigor had already set in so when Duncan cradled her in his arms, her cold body moved unnaturally. Amanda sobbed, her eyes snapping open, but it wasn’t her cry. It was Duncan’s. He had failed that woman, whoever it was, and Duncan wore it like a scarlet letter. How had Amanda missed that before?
“Are you okay?” Duncan whispered and pulled Amanda’s hair from her face. “What’s wrong, what’s the matter?”
“Who was she?” Amanda whispered. “Who was the girl?”
Duncan’s face went pale and his mouth opened to answer when Mike charged up the steps. “Well, you were right. Gwen’s gone, but whoever broke the seal, there’s no trace of them. Whatever—.” Mike broke off and his face fell. “Amanda?”
Worry. Concern. Should he call an ambulance?
Amanda gathered the fabric of her dress up in her hands, begging the vomit in her throat to just go away. She steadied herself by staring straight ahead; any movement would send her spiraling. Any sudden jerks and she’d puke right in front of everyone.
“I’m okay. I’m…” Amanda gurgled and she covered her mouth, just in case there were any accidents.
Duncan fetched a bowl. “You can’t keep that in. It’ll just make you worse.” He held it under her chin, but Amanda was so embarrassed. She just closed her eyes. Wouldn’t look or even think about the vile substance as it tumbled off her tongue straight into the bowl.
Tasted awful. Like pea soup on steroids. She hated peas.
“We need to take her somewhere.” Duncan glanced over his shoulder at Mike. “Somewhere she can ride the rest of this out.”
Amanda wanted to tell him she’d be fine, but she didn’t know. She didn’t really know. She had never felt this bad before. Never before had she been without Jessica, not since they were kids. “We need…Ron…”
“Tonight you take care of yourself,” Mike said with a nod. Then he threw his head at the door. “There’s a motel I know. Discrete as they come, you’ll be safe there for one night.”
“You’re not coming with us, are you?” Duncan asked.
Mike shook his head, his lips drawn down in a sourpuss expression. “If there’s a war with heaven to be waged, I have forces I have to ready. I’m not abandoning your fight, Jasper. I’m tackling it from another angle.”
Duncan’s lip twitched. “Do what you have to do.”
He said it, but he didn’t believe it. Amanda saw the raw anger festering. Didn’t have to be an empath to notice how his eyes darkened, but Mike wouldn’t go far. He was in this fight, Amanda felt that. As Duncan’s anger stirred, Amanda saw Mike’s strength growing like an anchor.
Never wavering. Always present.
She opened her mouth to tell Duncan that, but Amanda couldn’t get out the words. Her hands gripped her chest. Her heart wasn’t beating. It skipped a beat. No, it skipped two. Three. Amanda’s knees crashed to the floor, tossing a chair to the side as she hit the concrete floor.
Vision failing, not going dark, but filling with red. A deep growl welcomed her as hands grabbed at her, pulling her down to the ground. She heard the calls from her friends, but the swirl of red had her. Amanda’s mind fell into a darkened cavern. Into the abyss.
“Mike!” Duncan’s cries were frantic. His feelings, even more so. He couldn’t lose her, not yet. They hadn’t even started to fight. So much to make up for, so much to do.
Scrambling. Running. Mike searching for something to help. Amanda thought he better hurry, she was failing. Falling fast.
Through a cavern, a twisted grotto of evil where the demons dwelled. Where the monsters didn’t just reside, but where they were born. Hatched, coming straight out of the lake of fire itself.
Along the cavern wall, a nameplate on a door that led into a cavern. J. Blood.
Jessica?
Amanda’s stomach hurt so badly, to think Jessica had her own special cavern in hell. It wasn’t right. Wasn’t fair.
Behind all that, sandwiched between two giant rocks, was a door. A blue steel door, with a giant round knocker right in the center. Behind it, the beast paced, desperate to be free. It slammed its body and horns against the steel door. Amanda forgot to breathe as she watched the steel dent from each hit.
The beast wanted to be free. The beast was tired of waiting.
It was gunning for her soul.
Something pierced her chest and, Amanda’s eyes shot open and her back arched. A gasping scream escaped her mouth as Duncan came into view. His hand slapped her cheeks. And in the center of her chest, a needle.
Amanda gasped and flailed her arms, finally breathing again. “A shot of adrenaline,” Mike said, sitting on the floor beside her. “You gave us quite the scare, girl.”
Amanda wanted to nod or say something but didn’t think she could yet. She wanted to as Duncan removed the needle and she gasped again, rolling onto her side. Duncan’s strong hands swept her hair back and a swell of protective love followed next from him. Amanda’s wished for just a moment to be alone with her own thoughts and emotions. Right now she felt everything too strong, too bright. Overwhelming.
Amanda wanted to be alone with her own emotions and not someone else’s, for just a few moments.
Closing her eyes, Amanda waited for clarity to follow. Often, closing her eyes blocked out the swirling emotions of others, but not this time. Duncan was scared for her and Mike, might have even felt it worse.
“We stick together,” Mike said. “For now. To get you through this. We will see you through to the other side.”
He said only half the truth. The part he hid? What if her soul was never put back together the way it was supposed to? What if her powers just kept changing, growing, strengthening?
What if she’d never be the same again?
*****
It was Aunt Gwen’s worse nightmare.
“Your powers may grow. They might change; no one has been born like you, maybe in all the history. Jessica, well intentioned as she is, might not be able to protect you forever.” Aunt Gwen sat down on Amanda’s bed.
But teenage Amanda didn’t want to listen. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant ponytail and in her hand she clutched a tissue. “She’s always come for me.”
“You need to learn to control it and, above all, your soul must remain pure. Corruption of one’s soul does more to us than we realize. For a regular person, it guides the rest of their life. For you, it could change your powers in ways we can’t even start to guess.”
Amanda crinkled up her nose. “You mean I can’t be with a boy? Ever?”
Gwen snorted. “I’m talking about more than sex, child. This isn’t some teen romp flick. I’m talking about purity. Giving in to evil. Evil may never touch your heart, Amanda. No one I’ve spoken to can guess what might be in store for you. You must become the master of your own destiny. Jessica won’t always be there.”
Amanda hadn’t believed it. Hadn’t wanted to, but now, as she sat on the edge of the bed in a run-down motel room, Amanda wished she’d tried harder. Wished she listened. There were just so many more interesting things to do than trying to control her impulses, her visions. Now that lack of discipline might be her undoing.
The motel room wasn’t so bad, except for the spiders in the corners. There was a television and outside the window, Amanda caught sight of the blinking VACANCY sign, except the A’s were long burned out. Blue paint on the door frame was peeling, and the carpet was stained with coffee, but Amanda had stayed in worse.
It beat staying with demons, that was for sure.
When the front door opened, Amanda rose from the coiled spring mattress expectantly. Her fingers twisted together as Duncan came in with a tray of drinks and a brown bag of food. Amanda rushed over as he set it down on the small round table in the corner. “Did you get it?”
“All of your favorites. Tea, some gummy candy. They were out of cake and pie, though.”
Dang it, Ama
nda’s mouth twisted with disappointment as she reached into the bag and pulled out some plastic-wrapped pastry. She twisted it open and stared at the lemon raspberry Danish stacked together. Sucker punched, she felt the color run out of her face.
“What’s the matter?” Duncan asked as he took the lid off his coffee cup and blew.
“Jessica, these are her favorite.” Amanda forced herself to take a small nibble. It was silly to let perfectly good food go to waste. The pastry was soft, flaky and a long inhale proved that the Danish was buttery yet sweet, but inside her mouth—it felt coarse, like sand.
Amanda put it down on the table with guilt. “You went through all the trouble.”
“No, no, it’s okay.” Duncan put his hand on her shoulder gently. “We haven’t talked much, well about everything. About—losing Jessica. For me, I can’t even put it into words, but for you? I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I’m sorry, Amanda.”
“When do you think the next time will be when she gets to be here? Topside with us. Enjoying food? Enjoying the pleasures that we all take for granted?” Amanda felt the rise of tears in her eyes.
“Come here,” Duncan pulled her in for a consoling hug. His arms were warm, like a teddy bear, but strong like iron. Still it was nice to settle into them, even though that spot had been carved out for Jessica.
He cared for Amanda too, she knew that. So Amanda rested her head on his shoulder and just allowed her mind to go, spiral and unwind. Give her some comfort knowing that she wasn’t alone. “Where’s Mike?”
“Standing watch. He said this place is safe, but you know Mike, he doesn’t trust anything. Not even his own word.”
Amanda smirked and glanced up at him. “Losing Jessica is my fault, you know. She wouldn’t have been put in that situation if Vaughn didn’t have me. She always came for me. I always expected it. I never….”
I never should’ve asked her to. I should’ve learned how to stand on my own two feet.
Duncan’s eyes narrowed, but what he felt wasn’t anger. Amanda recognized the feeling, more of a protective nature. “You can’t blame yourself for what demons do. The ones that took you, the one inside Gwen, if it wanted Jessica bad enough, nothing we did…”
