The angel Azri’el tips his head at me, sending more gold flecks spilling off his hair. And then he turns and points at something on the ground I hadn’t noticed before. It’s no more than three feet from where Rebecca is standing by the car.
A demon’s sigil.
I blink at it, shocked. Shocked that I hadn’t seen it, that I hadn’t smelled or felt whatever it was that left it. And even though I’ve only seen it once before, I recognize it immediately.
The demon Hunger’s mark.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter.
“What?” Rebecca turns, following my gaze, seeing nothing but asphalt.
I knew that beast was back. The bird demon that tore me to bits in Hanna’s office told me its master had returned, had freed it. But I assumed the thing was after Rebecca because of her destiny with me. That it was after her because she was so important. I assumed that if she wasn’t connected with me anymore, that it would be over.
Clearly that was one huge lame-ass assumption.
With that river of power on her skin, how is there any doubt that she’s more vital than ever? “You must still be a Light,” I say, knowing she won’t understand fully what I mean. I barely understand it myself.
Ava wants her dead for some reason; her power must be why. But if Hunger is following her this close, and she’s still alive, could that mean Ava and the demon aren’t on the same side? Rebecca mentioned that the creature who attacked her seemed to see something it was afraid of, something she couldn’t see. Could that have been Hunger?
Tingles work over me when I realize what that means; Hunger saved her life last night.
But why?
Eric motions to the warehouse, and I know he’s asking me to watch out for Hanna. I nod and he flickers into nothing, leaving only his gold sparks behind him.
“It’s back,” I say quietly to Rebecca, wishing the words weren’t true. “The demon Hunger is tracking you again.”
“Wait, the . . . the demon is still after me?” Her voice chokes, and she looks around frantically, searching the parking lot. It’s likely been following her for days.
I move closer. “It’s all right.” But I’m not sure it is. She’s wearing her amulet—how did Hunger know she was here if it’s not able to see her?
But then I get another whiff of her power. It’s strong in my head, tingling in my chest. Could the demon be tracking her by scent now?
“It killed Charlie, Aidan,” she whispers. “I thought that I was safe from it.”
“I know,” I say, unable to formulate words to make it all better. Words won’t fix this. And right now, I’m not sure what will.
I follow Rebecca home in Eric’s car and walk her to her door, trying to figure out how to protect her better. It’s not like she can just come stay at the LA Paranormal house again, not with her dad watching her so closely. And I’m not sure she’d be safe there, either. I’m not sure of anyplace that’s safe anymore.
All the way up the walkway she holds my hand. She doesn’t let go when we get to the door.
“Tell Connor we’ll do family movie night another time,” she says absently, eyes searching the yard. “I think maybe he should stay away for now. I’m not safe to be around.” Her voice breaks on the last words, and she squeezes my hand so hard it hurts.
“I can ward the house before I leave, Rebecca,” I whisper, not wanting to shake the air too much with the sound of my voice. She looks fragile enough to shatter. “I have everything I need in Eric’s car.” That guy has quite the supply stock in his trunk.
She looks up at me and nods, a small bit of relief surfacing in her eyes.
“But you’ll have to let go of my hand for a second,” I say with a grin.
She glances down like she didn’t realize she was holding it. “Oh.” But instead of releasing it, she moves closer and rises onto her toes, then wraps her arms around my neck, whispering into my chest. “I’m sorry that I’ve been crazy and impatient.”
I don’t understand her sudden affection until the freshly sprouted scent of her energy blossoms again, weaving over us both. There’s love in it, I realize, real love. Not like romance or sex, but friendship and steadiness. Pure and real. Safe. I hug her back and let myself rest in the simple moment.
“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Rebecca. You’re in this storm just like me. I’m the one who should apologize for being the ass that ignored you and didn’t make sure you were okay after you gave so much to save Kara.”
She sniffs like she might be crying, but her voice is steady when she says, “I love Kara. And I love you. I’d do whatever I need to do in order to keep you both safe, to save you.”
The words are an oath when they fill the air. They settle into my skin and seem to mark us both. And with everything crashing into us, I’m not sure how to feel about the idea.
EIGHTEEN
Rebecca
I release Aidan but not before giving him one last squeeze. This is the first moment I’ve had with him in forever that I haven’t felt horrible. I feel like I can finally see him, and our relationship, clearly. I’m released and free to really care about him now. As a friend.
The front door opens, and my dad is standing there, looking at us both with curiosity.
“Hello, sir,” Aidan says, opening up a foot of space between us. “I just wanted to be sure Rebecca got home safe.”
“Aidan’s going to check a few things around the house, okay?” I say.
My dad looks over the front yard. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Aidan says quickly. “I’m just . . . I was going to . . .” But he seems to have drawn a blank. He looks at me in desperation.
“I was going to let Aidan do a blessing on the house. LA Paranormal was hoping to get a few new clients, and I thought maybe we could tell our neighbors what we think of their services. Is that okay?”
He seems a little confused, but he smiles through it at Aidan. “I, uh, I suppose that’s fine. Is there anything I should do to help?”
Aidan smiles. “Not at all. Just go about the rest of your day, and you won’t even know I’m here.”
“Wonderful,” my dad says.
After he goes back into the house, I linger a little, following Aidan down the walk back to the car. “Sorry about that, before,” I say as he collects a few things from the trunk of Eric’s car.
He shrugs. “Looks like it worked out. I can put up the wards, and I’ll feel better about leaving you here.”
“That’s not what I mean, silly.”
He straightens from digging in the trunk. “What?”
“I’m sorry about the hug. I don’t want it to be . . . I don’t know, I don’t want you to think—”
He shocks me into silence by leaning over and planting a quick kiss on my brow. “Stop apologizing. Besides, I already knew that you think I’m amazing. It’s fine.” He winks, and relief fills me to my toes again.
I laugh and take one of the small sacks from him. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. Now teach me about demon recon.”
I come back in the house once we’re done, and my dad calls out to me from his office, “Emery.”
But I ignore him until I start up the stairs and he calls again. I pause midstride and take a deep breath before backtracking.
I linger in the office doorway. “Yeah? What’s up?”
He releases a heavy breath and pulls off his glasses, rubbing his eyes before finally coming out with it. “Emery . . . I hate to ask this—I can’t believe I’m asking this—but are you stringing two boys along at one time?”
I stare at him, wondering where that idea came from. “No, Dad. Aidan is just a friend. A very good friend. I’m still head over heels for the poverty-stricken surfer, sorry.”
He closes his computer, and I bite back a groan. He wants to chat. “You think I don’t approve of Connor because of his bank account?”
“I have no idea why you don’t approve.”
“I want you to be happy, Emery. If Conno
r will make you happy, then I’ll find a way to adjust. I just don’t understand why—why a young man with no college education, no real personality, interests you? The boy barely said two words last night.”
“Dad, you were giving him the evil eye the whole time he was here. I know you’re upset about what happened, but you didn’t even try to get to know him.” I raise my brow in challenge.
He sighs in surrender and opens his computer back up. “What time is movie night starting?”
Are we still doing that? I just told Aidan to tell Connor never mind. My dad would probably prefer it if it was just the two of us anyway. “Whenever, I guess.”
“All right, well let me know when Connor gets here.”
“It’s just you and me, Dad.”
He blinks up at me through the thick lenses of his glasses and looks so surprised and adorable I want to give him a hug. I suddenly realize how vulnerable he is, sitting there at his desk, talking to me about boys, and he has no idea what’s really going on. He has no idea that the demon that drowned his son is now stalking his daughter again. Maybe stalking him.
A shiver runs over me at the thought. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let that Hunger thing get its claws into my father. I won’t.
Something stirs in me as the anger rises, thinking of my dad in danger, and a twinge sparks behind my eyes, making me grip the bridge of my nose from the odd sensation.
“Are you all right?” my dad asks. “Are you getting a headache?”
“Yeah,” I say absently. But I’m remembering that I got the same feeling at Miss Mae’s when she was reading my cards. I know it’s more than my sinuses now. And then, as I pull my hand from my face, I see gold flecks flicker across my palm, and . . . green. A brush of green light hovers at my fingertips.
I jerk my hand down, hiding it behind my back. “I’m going to go get something, to take something. I’m—” But before I can finish the nonthought, I rush out, heading up the stairs, holding my hands in front of me, gaping at the green light coming off my skin.
NINETEEN
Hunger
It watches. The demon Hunger watches the house. The girl is in there. Hunger’s girl. The one marked as witch. The one that should be whispered to. Whispers to call a shadow up, to bring a shadow closer. Closer to flesh, delicious flesh.
Hunger paces and growls, teeth aching with longing. Fury forms a dark, sticky cloud, surrounding all things within reach. Rage. Red rage and urges for destruction. Urges to tear through the Veil and be free. Forbidden urges. Lovely urges.
But the Balance must be kept.
After darkness falls, lights flick off in the windows. Waiting will do no good this night; she isn’t leaving. Fists clench and shadows move, move toward the master’s lair. The city blinks past, the ground a blur beneath. Until it stands. Until the demon Hunger stands outside of the opening to his master’s chamber.
Must speak with the All Mighty, Hunger asks the shadows in the opening. They move in a swirling mass before reaching out with long talons shaped from their pitch.
Sharp points slink and scrape across Hunger’s skin, they dig in deep and draw their payment in blood. The pain is a relief, it is salvation.
And the shadows sink into the edges of the lair, a cave deep down, in the underbelly of the city, where no light can reach. Water glistens on the walls, making the tar-like surface slick. The scent of rot and decay slithers in the air, the smell of fresh blood up ahead.
A voice emerges from the smells. You will have a share in the spoils if you tell me that you’ve at last completed your simple task.
The demon kneels. The demon Hunger kneels before the rising form of the master. Your kingdom is vast, oh powerful Molech.
You disappoint me, Shadow.
A growl fills the space, trembling against Hunger’s skin. Forgive me, Master. I am close to using the fire-haired girl to regaining the Balance.
The growl becomes a roar. Do not scrape at my feet while speaking Heaven’s words. The shadows will rule this world. It is written. That is Balance.
But the Ava witch, Master—
I know of her. The Heart-Keeper created her so beautifully, did he not? She is the key, a most worthy child sacrifice. And as he controls her, her power will become ours in the end. He has given much, and so we will honor him and watch this play out. The large shadow of the master seems to grow. For she is powerful. Delicious.
Hunger nods at his master, unsure what words to allow into skin as truth.
Only your foolishness sees something to be fixed in such dark perfection as the Ava bird, the master continues. Thanks to her brother’s foolish mistake, she is to be our caged bride, our slave. We shall rule her flesh in her eternal death, as we ruled her spirit in life, and her power will belong to my ranks. She believes she is queen, let the lie sink in, let her sweep across my city, and the next, until blood soaks the feet of Man. Our final battle may at last come through her. And if not her life, then through her blood.
Confusion fills Hunger, a conflict, a disagreement. It’s wrong and unwelcome, but still it comes. The demon dares to ask his master, And the boy—what of the time child? Is he not more of a threat now that his sister has completed her fall, as he completed his rise? Perhaps Hunger could be given the task of ripping the boy limb from limb to fix the failure. The head of such a powerful soul would be a prize, would it not—
Fury rumbles in the air, lifting ash from the floor. The boy . . . my child witch will care for his bones. I am sure of her success. Yours, however, I am not so sure of. A shadow stretches over Hunger as the master looms closer. Now, will you gut the fire-haired female before the time child discovers your presence, or shall I send another?
The demon Hunger falls to its knees, trembling. With rage. With fury. With fear. I will gut her, Master. I will not fight the Ava bird or the boy. Sharp fangs grind as the unwanted words emerge into the air.
Hunger bows. The demon Hunger bows a head for the master, Molech. But inside there is only one belief. One need.
Balance. Whether it is a word of Heaven or not, it is needed.
TWENTY
Aidan
I expect a new message from Ava as the day passes, something about the green witch and Rebecca, or something about what happened with Hanna, but none come. As evening falls I feel an urgency to check on Sid, to get a second with him. And maybe talk. Not to ask questions; I feel like I need to tell him something.
Thank you.
Or a million other things, but they all boil down to what I never thought I’d utter to the strange man: thank you. I won’t be burdening him with any of the stuff about Rebecca’s energy. Or the demon Hunger being back. The guy deserves a little peace for once.
I pull up into the long driveway, parking Eric’s car behind the Camaro, and decide to try something before I go inside. I pull the note from Ava out of my back pocket and find a pen in the glove compartment.
On the line just under her last message I write: I found the green witch. And then I add, We need to talk. Face-to-face. Please, Ava.
It’s worth a shot.
For now I’ll talk to everybody about the spell and figure out what to do about Tray, how to approach him.
I slide out of the car and head for the house. When I pass the shed, I consider grabbing the can of turpentine stacked on top of the paint and pouring it over the rickety shack, then lighting a match. The thing is seriously rank in the casting. There’s even a red mist of energy seeping out from under the door right now. The spell circle on the wood has definitely burned through, and the curse underneath it seems to have puffed up like bloody marshmallows, which makes me think there’s a secondary problem about to happen from it somehow.
The thing needs to be taken care of, sooner rather than later, before bad gets worse.
Raul is in the kitchen with Jax, the two of them stirring something in a pot like two old women making a witch’s brew. “Are you guys on KP for dinner?” I think I’ll be fasting tonight.
“Holly isn’t feeling it,” Jax says, “so we’re all feasting on the amazing Campbell’s.” He looks beat, his shoulders low, and the usual spark of mischief in his eyes a little dimmed.
“And it takes two of you to stir it?” I ask.
Raul smiles, looking relaxed as ever. He’s wearing skinny jeans, a colorful paisley, tight spandex shirt, and a long black sweater that nearly hits his feet.
Jax shrugs and pats Raul on the shoulder like a chum. “Newbie here thought I needed more oomph in my swing or something.”
“You just didn’t seem committed to the task,” Raul says in all seriousness.
Holly shuffles into the kitchen, holding her glasses in one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other. She’s a bit disheveled, her brown and pink hair falling out of the two braids coiled on her head, her feet in Jax’s Wookie slippers. She’s wearing a white T-shirt and green stretch pants, barely a colorful thread in sight. “I need someone to give me a neck rub. Answering messages all day in that cabra grosero of an office chair is sucktastic on the lumbar region.”
Raul taps his stirring spoon on the side of the pot and waves her into the room. “Oh, sweetie, that’s my specialty. I’ll get you straightened right out.”
She plops down in a kitchen chair and groans in relief as he starts kneading her shoulders.
“Do you think everyone’s up for a meeting?” I ask them.
Jax gives me an exhausted look. “What, now?”
“We all need to get on the same page about stuff,” I say, “like the whole Light spell thing, the plan for Ava, and now Sid. It’s going to fall apart fast if we don’t work together. Can you go tell Finger to come out of his cave?”
Jax nods, turns the burner off, and sets his spoon down, then heads for the basement door under the staircase, where Finger hides when he’s not killing trolls or zombies.
Once he’s out of earshot, I turn to Holly. “Are Kara and Sid still—” I realize that I was about to blurt out saying good-bye, so I bite my tongue. I can’t let my mind head in that direction. Not yet.
Holly leans back in the chair. “Thanks, Raul, that’s fine.” He stops kneading her shoulders and moves to sit in the chair beside her. She looks up at me. “Kara’s barely left his side all day, except to get more towels when he was sick.”
Darkness Savage (The Dark Cycle Book 3) Page 11
