Demon Day

by Penelope Fletcher

  I twisted round to press my back to the wall, taking slow measured breaths.

  The instinct to hurl myself at him and bite and scratch warred with the debilitating fear that this man had locked me in a hole and cut me over and over again … intravenously jacked me up so he could torture and torment me.

  Everything was blocked out by the overriding urge to run away. I was good at running. But there was nowhere to run to, I was trapped in this box and this brought me back to the fact I couldn’t get out and that I was going to die trapped like a wounded animal.

  I was back down there, in the dark … all alone.

  The bang on the glass behind me had my eyes snapping open. I was not alone. Breandan was behind me; he was there. I needed to get up, stand, and fight. I tried to make my expression hard and unafraid. The effect was probably ruined sine I was cowering.

  Cleric Tu’s hand briefly slipped behind his back then rested by his side. “I thought you’d gotten away from me,” he said quietly, knuckles white where he clutched a gun. He raised the barrel so it pointed at my face. “Oh, how mad I was. This time I’m not making the mistake of keeping you alive.”

  His finger squeezed the trigger, but I hauled ass, using a burst of speed to latch myself onto his back and bury my teeth into his neck. Vampires liked doing this? Craved the vile salty blood swilling in their mouth? It was thick, sticky, and bloody disgusting. I clamped my jaw down, going for maximum pain, and flexed my talons, resisting the urge to grin as they sank deeper into the flesh of his abdomen. Cleric Tu was not going down easy. He thumped me hard on the side. I grunted but held on, his blows not landing with enough force to hurt. He switched tactics and wound his hands into my hair, and yanked with all his might.

  I shrieked, my teeth coming out of his neck and ripping his flesh as I did. He tossed me off him and I landed hard on my back, spitting out a wad of blood as I did so, my stomach churning. Oh gods, now was not the time to be sick. I dry heaved once, twice, making a disgusting retching sound before I got it under control.

  A knife flashed in his palm as he dove on top of me, roaring in anger. I jerked my head to avoid the tip spearing my eye. I rolled, taking him with me and we brawled on the floor. He rained punches and kicks down on me as I hissed, bit, and scratched, too wild to think about fighting properly. Screw graceful stances, I fought for my life; teeth and nails would do me just fine. Managing to pin me under his knees – squirming and cursing – he slashed the blade across my back. I screamed the burn instant and intense. He shifted off me and I scrambled up to crawl forward, only to get the blade brought down full force into my shoulder. Screaming did not describe the harsh cry torn from my throat as the tip of the blade punctured my skin then sank down, the edges radiating an intense burn through my arm and side. My arm buckled and my cheek hit the wood.

  Breandan beat his fists on the glass, silently roaring his frustration. I watched as the iron eroded his skin and left smears of blood.

  Cleric Tu paced around me, eyes bloodshot and crazed, unfocused. His arm swung into view and I saw he had a new tattoo, a rune of power noting his new rank in the Sect hierarchy.

  I shook my head in disbelief, mentally preparing myself for the next attack. I needed to focus and take him on as a Priestess not a rabid animal as I had been. Now if I could only stop my entire body trembling….

  “Priest?” I asked with convincing calm.

  “Those old men have seen they need a warrior like me.” He pointed a finger and spun it once in the air above his head. “Liking the cage? It was built with you demons in mind. Particles of silver and iron have been blasted onto the surface to weaken you.” He shrugged. “I often wondered if we were wasting our time on such a thing but now … its true value has been proven.”

  “You truly think this is worth something? You think because you trapped me here that you’re a warrior,” I scoffed and this time it was easy to invoke the emotion. The idea was laughable. I jerked my head toward Breandan, till trying to pound a hole through the glass. “That is a warrior. My brother, the Elder of my family is a warrior. I am a warrior. Hell, Runt the goblin is more of a warrior than you are. You are a gods damned lunatic.”

  He lunged for me. I rolled out the way, but his heavy boot landed on my bad shoulder, knocking the breath out of me. Another kick to my stomach had me curling into a ball, tears in my eyes. Winded, I was dragged up. Cleric Tu twisted my arm behind my back and the stabbing pain was enough to make me cry out.

  He snatched up the gun he dropped to press the barrel to my cheek. The particles of iron around the rim sizzled as they touched my skin.

  Breandan dug at the glass wall with a dagger, but was not getting far since the iron drained his fairy strength. He backed up and a swirling blue orb of fire appeared in front of him and hurled itself onto the glass. It dissipated without leaving a scratch. Three balls of blue flames greater in size thumped into the cage in quick succession but nothing happened. Breandan’s face was dark with rage and he yelled at Ro who fumbled with the control panel to open the door.

  I lifted my chin, refusing to be afraid. I turned my head, the iron burning a trail along my cheekbone as I did, and locked my gaze with Breandan’s.

  Time halted, and I saw desperation in his eyes. Fight. His voice echoed in my head.

  I was so tired, weak. I couldn’t do it anymore. I was not strong enough to keep fighting for a life I was not even sure I wanted. Something as big as being the fairy Priestess was too big for me … too big for Rae.

  Ro stopped trying to open the box and shouted at Cleric Tu through the glass, banging his palm against it. He cocked his leg up to kick at the keypad in an attempt get the door to slide open.

  My defeat, my acceptance of the end had Breandan sinking to his knees. Please. He pressed his palm to the glass. For him.

  My breath caught in my throat and I heard my own heart stop. Breandan tried in desperation to coax me into fighting again. I knew of whom he spoke. How could he not see, not know how absolutely infatuated and devoted I was? My eyes almost closed but snapped open when the fear of dying in darkness instead of basking in silver light came to mind.

  With death breathing down my neck once again, I acknowledged the truth I was too terrified to say aloud. I would live for him, and no other. No one else would ever hold as much appeal, and not because of the bond, but because of who he was. The boy who would risk his life to save a vampire he hated to make me happy. The one who would turn his back on everything he had ever known to have a chance at being with me.

  “For you,” I whispered as my eyes drifted closed.

  Cleric Tu breathed in deeply, I heard his finger slip onto the trigger to cradle it. The man was basking in my death before it had even happened. To think all the respect I had once had for him.

  Pain exploded in front of my eyes.

  Selfish!

  Fight him.

  It was not loud, but unfalteringly, and unreservedly present in the hushed reverence of the moment of my death. Invigorated and incensed by emotion fed through the bond, I stood, faster than light, and pivoted on the ball of my foot. Gasp. Tu looked down at the empty space in of his hands. Thump. I twisted his hand back. Click. The gun exploded.

  I did not see the bullet tear through his skin. I heard it. The flesh of his stomach caved in and blew out his back spattering his guts on the glass behind.

  Eyes wide, face etched in shock he staggered back.

  The gun clattered to the floor.

  I stumbled back, barely registering my own movement, my mind struggling to catch up with my body.

  I knew the very last thought that passed through his mind. This death was not meant to be his. He was so sure he had me; that he had won. The good guys always won didn’t they? Demon fairies with symbols of evil pressed into their foreheads couldn’t defeat a paragon of virtue like him.

  “You’re wrong,” I said. “I’m a better person than you are, and you were wrong.”

  He slipped on his own guts and hit the floo
r with a dull thud. He would not be getting back up again.

  Tears threatened to fall and I forced them down. I had never taken a life before and it brought me no joy, but I could not deny I was grimly satisfied.

  My shoulder flared in pain and I rotated it to help ease the mild hurt that soon smoothed out into nothing as my body healed. I was covered in aches and pains though none were as pressing as the one in my heart. I needed to get out of here.

  I walked to the wall and lay my forehead and palms against it, hearing a tiny clink as my circlet hit the glass. Gods, I was tired, but stronger at his side, even with the iron seeping from the glass. Magics shot out from my fingertips, fed from the bond. I gave a mirthless laugh. So simple. If I had turned to the bond in the first place … if I had understood what Breandan was really trying to say when I was spiraling into panic I could have done this the first moment I’d been trapped. The glass chimed, a high note of sound before it cracked, a spider web racing along the cloudy surface. The cage shattered, and glass rained down on us in sharp slivers that bounced off our skin and settled in our hair and clothes like deadly snowflakes.

  The bond steeply increased in urgency until it was an acute pain. Lust had me panting in want. I trembled, and bit my lip, knowing he was going to touch me, and knowing I was going to simply smash to pieces once he did.

  Breandan groaned and reached out.

  Distant, as if heard through fog a fierce roar rang in my ears.

  Conall leapt into view and rammed into Breandan. I felt the gush of shifted air as my fairy’s fingers curled by my arm – sparks crackling between us as he almost touched me – before he was gone. Conall’s attack carried them both away from me and hollowed out a crater of dirt as they smashed into the ground and skid across it. He rolled with my brother trying to pin him down.

  I stumbled forward; the bond was a steel chain tugging me closer, my own need pushing me to connect. But when Conall yanked Breandan’s arm back his shoulder buckled. Breandan’s silent scream shunted his focus onto his own pain, shifting it from me, and allowed me enough distance to break the bonds overwhelming influence and reel myself in.

  A prickle of energy rolled over my skin and magic swooped past to settle close by. I frowned. It felt weak, a pool of power I could wield without thinking.

  I remembered.

  Ana.

  Her spell gathered force.

  Conall had Breandan in a submissive headlock, and since I was able to cling to thoughts of helping my friends, I turned away and vaulted off the platform.

  As I ran back to where I had left Ana, the Clerics attacking us stumbled back, their eyes fixed on the body inside the ring of glass that had been the cage. The closer to Ana I got I noticed the smattering of Clerics were torn between being afraid of me, and whatever the white witch was doing. Annoyed at how long it was taking me to reach her, I jumped; beat my wings twice to sail across the rest of the courtyard twenty feet in the air. Wind whistled in my ears and blew my hair back as I fell and landed in a silent crouch. My tail flicked about above my head and I tucked my wings neatly against my back.

  Ana stood rigid, arms out wide and blonde tresses tossing about her face in the wind. Her body smoldered in black flames that licked the space around her and protected her like a shield.

  Disciples surrounded her, faces twisted beyond recognition, but they held back, hesitated.

  Tomas paced forward his eyes locked on the Clerics surrounding me.

  An eerie silence came upon the courtyard, like everyone waited for something.

  The dark magic suffocating the light reverted and crushed together until it formed into a tall, willowy silhouette. Each pulse of magic that flowed into it made it denser until I could make out the figure was male.

  Tomas recoiled. He backed away into a shadow, crouching down and baring his fangs. His darkness cloaked him until I saw nothing but his red-rimmed eyes gleaming faintly.

  “Be gone, he-witch,” Ana hissed and the herbs combusted into sickly green flames. “A bheith imithe,” she cried and with a wave of her hand ordered a gust of wind to carry the be-spelled smoke into the face of the phantom figure.

  The body of shadows steadily grew in power and potency until his blurry edges sharply came into focus. Transparent and shrouded in darkness he ignored Ana, and his cloaked head slowly turned until he stared straight at me. His head tilted in greeting and I took a step forward. A cloaked arm lifted until the shadow-cloth fell back, and a strong palm stopped me in my tracks.

  The voice that greeted me was smooth and reverent in tone, “Feicim tú, deirfiúr.” He turned his gaze back to Ana. “Daughter, you cannot banish me.” The figure sighed. “Gach gur éirigh idir linn go bhfuil dearmad a dhéanamh. My child, come home. Your Coven misses you.” The voice was melodic and rolled over me smoothly. I had not heard a voice so appealing unless it came from the lips of a fairy.

  Ana blanched. “Ní féidir liom ar ais. I’m with my family,” she whispered back.

  The figure crackled with power and disapproval. “Move out of my way. I have no wish to harm you, but there is only so far you can push me.”

  I noticed Ana’s hand bled, blood dripped off her lax fingertips onto her altar. The puddle of blood forming beneath the green flames boiled and turned black as I watched.

  The white witch seemed unable to look away from the hooded figure.

  Reaching out with my senses I was able to easily feel the link between her and the he-witch’s dark power. Of course she couldn’t banish him. It was blood, the life-force of all things that fed this he-witch. She had tried to banish one of her own kind, but instead of being overcome by her power the figure fed off her to become stronger. I could see it, his power leeching on hers, making it weaker by the moment.

  Ana had been right. It should not have been her to cast the counter spell.

  In five strides, I came to her side and snatched the dagger from her loose fist. I sliced the curved blade across my forearm deeply, grunting at the pain. The blood flowed like a river and I felt a moment’s light-headedness. Next time I would slice my palm that was for sure. I felt magic take hold of me in a vice like grip and start to suck on my remaining energy. Without having released the pressure of the bond with Breandan, or recharging after my hellish experience with Cleric Tu, I was weak and getting weaker.

  Holding my bleeding arm over the green flames I mumbled, “My blood,” I grabbed Ana’s hand to slice it open. “His blood.” She shrieked and tried to pull away, but I dragged her down with me as my knees gave out. I sliced Zoe’s shoulder threw the dagger away and placed our blood soaked hands over the cut. “Their blood.”

  Great, now what?

  “By my power by my right,” Ana muttered in my ear, her eyes locked defiantly on the he-witch.

  “By my power! By my right, I–”

  Black magic punched me in the face. I choked on my words, head snapping back.

  Ana grabbed my shoulders and hauled me upright. Digging into the pouch at her waist she pulled out some of that green gunge she’d once made me eat before and forced it past my pressed lips. Knowing I needed the energy I swallowed and a wave of healing magic over me.

  The phantom quivered, and the wide cowl was blown back to reveal an enthrallingly handsome man with dark hair streaked with honey-blonde. He had shimmering white orbs for eyes with striking gold irises, multifaceted like jewels. An amused smile curved his lips as his gaze rested on my wings. His expression was full of contempt and utter self-confidence.

  I looked down at Ana who cowered at my side. She looked the splitting image of him, the same nose, and soft brow with a high forehead and distinct widow’s peak. However, whilst Ana’s face was covered in a sickly sheen of sweat, his was dry as ash, and contorted in rage when he looked upon her again.

  Scrambling to gather my wits and deal with everything going on around me, I inhaled slowly, focusing on finishing the spell. What was I supposed to say next? Ana was in no fit state to stand let alone speak. I exhaled shar
ply and lifted my chin. Gathering magic to me, it thrust through the air in lances of bright light, cutting through the dark. It whirled like living twine, flickering and pulsing with energy.

  Keeping it simple seemed to work for me and I simply hissed, “Leave!”

  He screeched – hands flying out to the side – and imploded. The particles of slate gray left in his wake twisted into a whirlwind and took off into the sky.

  As one, the Disciples screamed – a tortured, mewling cry – and clawed at their skin. First, one fell trembling, another, arms and legs thrashing, and another convulsing, as vicious smoke seeped from their ears, eyes, and mouths to join into a cloud of poison above our heads.

  “Rae,” Ana’s voice was strangled. “Burn it,” she choked. She hunched down and placed her hands on her head. “Cleanse the sky with fire.” She raised her voice and infused it with power so it rang loud and clear. She shouted, “Hold!”

  Conall, Breandan, and Alec all dropped their opponents, stopped, and stared at her. Then their eyes turned to me.

  My wings unfurled – shining a brilliant gold – a beacon in the raging madness surrounding us. Still the ropes of power snaked around me like a protective shield and glowed brighter.

  Alec grabbed the shifter-twins – both still in cat form with a twitchy Runt between them – by the scruff of the neck and pushed them down flat. To my surprise he shouted to Maeve who was busy with two Clerics, the arrows from her bow flying at a speed I struggled to follow. One came up behind her as she slipped her bow behind her back, the string resting across her chest, seemingly unaware of the danger from behind. The Cleric lifted his gun and Maeve reached behind her grabbed him by the wrist and flung herself forward sending him hurtling across the courtyard like a cannonball. He crashed into two of his crimson shrouded allies on the way whilst Maeve nimbly rolled back up onto her feet. She was so focused she did not hear Alec yelling at her as she readied her bow again.

  I swept my hands into a graceful oval – using the gathering and holding motion to help me focus. The ropes of power whipping around me rushed over my shoulders and between my legs to sweep into a ball. They twisted and coiled, merging into a glassy sphere that exploded into golden flames.