DAIMON (Nerys Newblood Series Book 1)

by Lucy Smoke

  “Can’t…” The rasp that escapes my throat doesn’t sound like me anymore. It sounds older, on the verge of death. I can do better than that. I have to do better than that.

  “Open your eyes,” Booker repeats. I try, I really do. I can feel sweat beading on my temples. Sweet sugar pours into my throat and I choke.

  “What are you doing?!” I hear Coen snap.

  “Sugar is supposed to help.” That’s Titus’s voice. He’s the one currently trying to drown me in candy syrup? Some of the grains trickle into my throat. It’s not candy or syrup. It’s actual sugar with a little bit of water and spices like ginger and mint mixed to make it run into my mouth faster.

  “This isn’t some normal sickness,” Coen says. “She doesn’t have a fucking cold!” My mouth closes around the handful of the saccharine granules of sugar and as it melts on my tongue and against the walls of my cheeks, I start to feel better. Using the tip of my tongue, I push the sugar back towards the desert that is my throat before I call out for Obidian.

  Obidian? After several attempts to call for him and no answer I give up and finally manage to pry open my eyes. I’m laid out against the side of the soldier’s stolen armored vehicle, the sun of the early morning rising up through the sky.

  “She’s awake,” Booker says.

  “Way to state the obvious,” I croak, blinking away blurry vision.

  I hear him pause. “Well, she’s obviously fine,” he chuckles quietly. “And still sassy, so she should be good enough to continue on.”

  “Asshole.” A round of relieved chuckles reaches my ears as Coen hurriedly picks me up off the ground.

  “Rest,” he says. “I’ll carry you. But, Booker’s right, we need to go. We didn’t kill those soldiers.”

  “Unfortunately,” Holden mutters, shifting uncomfortably. He’s likely still stiff and sore. I notice he’s in a new shirt, as are most of the guys–clothes stolen from the soldiers, I assume because Booker, Luca, and Coen are the only three still in their old dirty travel weary shirts and pants. They wouldn’t have fit the spare uniforms. I let my gaze drift around.

  “Where are we?” The stolen vehicle is parked behind a copse of trees, the thicket hiding it, and us, from anyone on the other side. There’s a faint hint of salt on the wind.

  “We’re outside of Chelsa. We’ve only been stopped here for a short while. When we tried to wake you though, you didn’t respond.”

  I blink at him before glancing to Titus. “Where’d you get sugar?”

  “I grabbed some from Booker and Luca’s place. Thought I’d surprise everyone with it.”

  “It didn’t taste like plain sugar,” I comment.

  “I don’t like pure sugar,” Luca explains. “Booker lets me mix it with a few different herbs and he alters their shape into crystals so it all looks the same for me.”

  “I liked it,” I say. “It was like a sweet mint with ginger.” Luca smiles at me.

  “It came in handy,” Booker says, clapping Titus on the shoulder. “Good thinking, Titus.” Tension releases from his shoulders and I realize what the others might have thought: Titus doesn’t seem like a thief. At least he doesn’t seem like the time to steal without a very good reason. “For now, though, we should head towards town.”

  Titus nods his agreement, his gaze straight as we begin to walk, heading through the tree line. My whole body sways as Coen carries me and I lean my head against his chest, watching Titus move.

  “Thank you, Titus.” I say. He smiles in my direction. My stomach lets out a loud grumble and I squeak, jerking my hands down to cover it as though that will stifle the noise. Five pairs of eyes level on me as my face heats.

  “Didn’t we eat before we left?” Luca asks, shock in his tone.

  I groan when my stomach protests again. A few sugar and herb particles just aren’t enough to carry me through. Coen laughs, Holden joining along. Titus pulls out some dried jerky from his pack and hands it to me, eyes wide. I scarf it down the moment it’s in my hand and thank him politely while licking the remains from my fingers. Booker stares in what I can only assume is horror.

  “We must remember to feed the beast,” Holden says, gripping the ribs on his injured side. I roll my eyes, but my settled stomach and I don’t disagree.

  I let Coen carry me until we hit the outer wall of Chelsa. It’s dingier than Ragnarok, caked in mud and bug guts. If Ragnarok was a gleaming diamond, this place is a piece of coal. Emaciated cats scurry around as we enter through a side gate and no one pays much attention because they are too busy heading from one place to the next. The only people who pay us any mind are the day hookers that try to grope a few of the guys.

  Prostitution is illegal in Matric’s Kingdom, but I had heard of it before Ragnarok. In Ragnarok, the women were more subtle for the most part. Here, their eyes light on any prospect they can and their cleavage is shoved out on display like the pushy tradesmen who try to hawk their wares at us.

  “What now?” I ask Booker as we come to a stop at the end of a dilapidated street, lined with shacks with roofs falling in and doors hanging on their thresholds by a nothing more than strands of hope.

  Booker pinches his brow in the middle, his face creasing as he thinks. “Perhaps, we should—”

  “Hey! Get back here!” The yell doesn’t startle us so much as the small figure the bursts through our group, knocking me to the side.

  Wild blue eyes bright with mischief and a slight hint of fear stare up at me as the girl in a dark cloak stumbles against one of the guys and falls to our feet. Her face is long and slightly rounded with freckles everywhere, those eyes her main attraction.

  “Can you help me?” she whispers, rising to her feet, looking hopefully. I look up and see a big brute nearly the size of Booker and Coen barreling towards us.

  “Nerys, surely we—”

  “Form a wall,” I say, cutting Booker off. The girl’s eyes fill with light as she beams up at me. Despite my short stature, she’s shorter by at least a few inches. Booker groans but Holden, Coen, and Titus gather around. Luca stands to the side, watching as the man gets closer. I look back to the girl.

  “Give me your cloak,” I order, holding out a hand.

  Without argument, she strips the ratty fabric off and toss it over my arm, part of the hem clutched in my hand. The rest of her is like her face, rounded and curved with freckles dotting the skin on her cheekbones. But, I blink when I get to her hair. It’s oddly natural for two different colors. The roots of her hair are dark black, an opaque flat color. It fades into a lighter silvery tone mixed with hues of blues and whites as though premature aging has started from the ends upward. It’s so beautiful, I can’t help but stare for a moment.

  “Stop that girl!” the man charging closer yells again, knocking me away from my thoughts and back into the present. “Don’t let her get away!”

  “Can you squeeze behind him?” I gesture to Booker who looks at me like I’m crazy, but doesn’t say anything. She nods and proceeds to do so. Thankfully, even though he’s obviously against this, Booker crosses his arms so as to appear bigger and hide the girl better as the man finally reaches us. Coen leans down to help me up as I clutch the girl’s cloak.

  “Did you catch her?!” The man demands as he comes to a heaving stop just alongside our group. When he looks around, his eyes skipping over Booker without much perusal, I pinch back a grin. “Damn, did you see where she went?”

  In my peripheral, I watch as the girl plasters herself against Booker’s back in an effort to remain unseen. I cough to hide my laughter when Booker’s entire body tightens against the invasion of his space.

  Luca moves closer, hiding her as well.

  “I managed to grab her cloak,” I say quietly, drawing the man’s gaze. I hand over the fabric and he growls in frustration, snatching it from me. “I think she went that way.” I gesture further down the street.

  “That little bitch,” he growls, storming away. I follow the man with my gaze as he skirts around us
and takes off running towards the direction our stranger might have gone in if she weren’t still hiding behind Luca and Booker. Once the man is out of sight, I breathe a sigh of relief and gesture for her to come out.

  Slowly, she peeks from behind Booker and Luca before jumping out with a smile. “That was awesome.” The girl beams. “Thanks!”

  “Why was he chasing you?” I ask.

  “Are you a thief?” Booker asks. It isn’t until I feel the warmth from the ricochet of my hand slapping his chest that I realize my reaction. He looks down at me in surprise.

  “Be nice,” I growl, shaking my stinging hand. His chest is like a wall of steel. The girl’s bright blue eyes follow the movement between us, but when I turn back to her, she straightens with a blush and a wickedly amused smile. Two very contradicting actions.

  “He’s my father,” she says. “He’s not in a good mood today and I skipped out on him last night. The only reason he found me was because I ran into a coworker of his while I was working.”

  “You skipped out on him? I don’t understand.” The girl takes a long look at our group, those startling eyes of her assessing us.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” The rest hesitate but it’s too late for me to realize my mistake as I nod an affirmative.

  “What she means,” Booker takes over. “Is that we are new in town, but planning to stay for a long while.” He lies so easily and I blink in surprise, but it’s neither the right time nor the right place to comment. At the moment, I’m simple grateful for it.

  “Hmmm. I see, well, then you should probably know this. Chelsa is a bit old fashioned. You—” she points to me. “Should probably stick close with one of these guys while you’re here and I wouldn’t make this place your home. I’m for damn sure getting out as soon as I can.”

  “Why is that?” Luca asks. “What do you mean by old fashioned?”

  “The city does resemble the rule of—”

  “What’s your name?!” I practically scream the question to stop Booker from spouting out anything about Matric’s kingdom. His eyes widen when he realizes his almost slip.

  The girl blinks at me. “Uh... my name’s Halcyon. Halcy, for short.” The group relaxes. “And by old fashioned, I meant that girls aren’t really allowed to go without a guardian. My father is kind of a... well, let’s just say he’s a traditionalist. I’ve been regularly skipping out on him, running away from home, that sort of thing. I always end up back there anyway…” she grumbles the last bit. “I just need the fresh air every once in a while. I like having the choice, I suppose.” We stare at her, taking in the information.

  “Are you kidding me?” The words are out of my mouth before I can yank them back. Not that I want to.

  “Nerys,” Booker scolds.

  “I need a babysitter just to stay in this city?!”

  Halcy nods her head, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to contain her amusement.

  “Oh, that’s just not right.” I pout.

  “Maybe this will be a good thing.” Booker says, and I glare at him.

  “If you just got into town, the best place to stay for the night might be the Chelsa Inn and Tavern. It’s on the other side of town, not exactly the ritziest neighborhood, but it’s nice enough,” Halcy offers.

  “Would you be able to take us there?” Booker asks.

  “Are we staying then?” Coen’s deep rumble makes Halcy jump and her eyes turn up as if just now realizing the mountains she is surrounded by. Her blue eyes blink up at them in awe.

  “For now,” Booker says.

  Titus leans forward. “Is that such a good idea?”

  As the guys start to discuss the pros and cons of staying in Chelsa for the night or otherwise, I sidle closer to Halcy. Her eyes watch the guys with fascination and I smile.

  “It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?” She jumps when she realizes I’m standing so close. Her pale skin flushes guiltily, but she keeps her face raised, pretending that the redness creeping up her neck is invisible. I cough to hide a laugh.

  “It’s fine,” she says. “My cousins are pretty big too.”

  “Oh? Do you have an extensive family?” I ask. From the heavy set large man she proclaimed to be her father, I can imagine the men in her family similar in size.

  “My stepmom does,” she replies. “My cousins aren’t really my cousins, they’re kind of her sister’s adopted mix. It feels like people get added every year.”

  “Must be nice,” I say.

  Halcy flinches. “It is what it is,” she says.

  “I think that’s a good idea, Nerys? Halcy?” The guys have finished their planning and finally draw our attention back. “Halcy, would you be able to show us the way to the Inn? We’re on a tight schedule.”

  “Uh, sure.” She glances around before her eyes land back on me. This time, she’s assessing our wardrobe. “But, maybe I you should come with me first.” I look down.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She shakes her head, gray, white and black swaying in a coalescing mix. “It’s just that...well, I get the feeling you guys are trying to go unnoticed, right?” I sense more than see the guys stiffen, but I agree with a nod.

  “Well, it’s pretty obvious that you’re not from here,” she says, gesturing to our clothes and then to those of the men and women passing by on the street.

  I see what she means. Most people here, including Halcy, are dressed in darker colors with lighter fabrics. Our clothes are heavy and dark only because of the dusk from the road. Only Holden and Titus are wearing clean clothes and that’s because they ransacked the back of the soldier’s vehicle.

  “Do you have something for all of us?” I ask.

  Halcy nods. “My cousins visit a lot, we have a few of their things back at the house. When I said that they’re pretty big, I meant it. You guys should be able to fit into something there.” She turns, gesturing to me. “You can probably borrow something from my wardrobe. We’re both short, so nothing will drag too low.”

  “I think she just called her vertically challenged,” Holden teases, leaning against Coen. I smile sweetly at him, batting my eyelashes once, twice before stomping on his foot. He howls quietly in fake pain and I glare at him until he drops the pretense. “Oh, come on, princess, I’m just playing.” Holden rubs a hand over my head and I reach up, tugging on a dark curled strand of his own hair until he’s close to my face.

  “You want to play with me?” I smile, teeth tight.

  “Uhhh.” He blinks before raising a hand to grasp the wrist at his temple. “If it’s nice play then yeah.” My smile broadens.

  “I can play nice.” I tug harder until his cheek is pressed to the back of my hand. “I can play really nice.”

  “Ner, we need to get a move on,” Coen says. “Quit messing around, let’s go.”

  I sigh and release Holden’s curl. He lifts an eyebrow, but we all follow along behind our new friend as she leads us down a side alley. The guys are tense as we move, eyes scanning, gazes wary. I can understand why. After our run in with the soldiers, it feels like an hourglass has been flipped and we’re running out of time.

  “John?! Michael?!” I flinch when Halcy calls out as we enter the two story abode that she calls home. When no one answers, she looks back. “Hold on, let me make sure no one else is home.”

  I peek around. The outside of the house is clean, though the paint is chipped and the door sags a bit when we push through. No one says a word as Halcy rushes through the house looking for her family. She sighs with relief coming to stop in front of us again and gestures for us to follow her.

  We trail behind the small girl like curious ducklings. I feel like I’m the only curious one as I glance around taking in the somewhat nice and yet outdated decor. The guys are suspicious and definitely on guard. Halcy disappears into a few rooms, bringing back an armful of male clothes that match the ones worn on the streets.

  “Here.” She hands the bundle to Booker.
“Put these on, I’ll take Nerys to my room to change.” Halcy grabs my hand and leads me away.

  Her room is in the upstairs portion of the house, with plain white walls and a small window overlooking an alleyway. Red faced brick stares back at me on the other side of the glass as I shift and pull the shirt she hands me over my head. Her clothes fit me fairly well, perfect for our height, though as I glance down, my chest does seem to stretch the fabric a bit more.

  “Looks better on you than me,” Halcy says, pouting. “Ah, well. Such is life.” She looks soberly down at her own chest before shrugging and tugging me back into the hallway.

  The guys have changed stuffing their clothes into their bags as we trod down the hall. Halcy holds up one finger, biting her lip. “You don’t want to go back out the front, do you?”

  “I think it would be wise not to,” Booker replies.

  Hands on her hips, she nods. “Alright then. Follow me.” We trail her back down the hallway where Halcy opens a door that leads down into a damp cellar. I pause before following. She reaches the bottom and notices that no one has joined her.

  Head tilting back to look at us, she waves us down. “There’s an alley door down here.” She sighs. “It makes sense not just for you, but for me too. I don’t want my family seeing you if they come home soon.” She waves her hand faster as if that will hurry us along.

  “I’ll go first,” Coen says. I roll my eyes as he clomps down the stairs as quietly as he’s able and studies the surrounding room below. “Alright, it’s safe, let’s go guys.”

  “Told you.” Halcy copies my eye roll and I can tell I would adore this girl strange haired girl if we ever had the chance to be real friends.

  “I’m guessing you guys don’t have papers,” Halcy stands to the side as the guys begin to explore the open space. There is a dirt floor, a row of slitted windows turned horizontally, lining one wall to let in the light and a narrow door on the far side with steps leading up. Bare beams line the ceiling over our heads, the wood dark from age but sturdy and strong. At least, I hope it is. It would really suck to get this far from the Kingdom and be killed by unsound architecture.