by N. P. Martin
"Leia…" the demon said in that hissing voice again. "So glad to see you."
I couldn’t think of much else to do except to try and use my grace somehow. But just as I started to focus on trying to materialize grace in my hand, the demon did something so grotesquely horrific that I could only stare in disbelief. Rather than walk toward me, the demon’s neck began to slowly extend, pushing that twisted face closer to me as it snaked forward. Seconds later, the face of the demon was just inches from my own, its cold black eyes seeming to draw the very grace from me.
If I could speak, I would’ve asked what it wanted, as if I didn’t know already. As it was, the grip on my throat was so tight I could barely breathe, so instead I was forced to stare back and wait for him to speak.
"Time for you to come with me now, Leia," he said in a strangely hissing voice, his head swaying on his grotesquely extended neck. "Josssh isss waiting for you."
My eyes widened, and the demon must’ve sensed I wanted to speak, so he loosened his grip just enough for me to do so. "What…have you done with him?"
The demon smiled, its fetid breath wafting into my face, almost making me gag. "The same as what we will do to you."
I quickly used the momentary lag created by its attempt to psyche me out, to then take a swing at his head, though there mustn’t have been much power in it, for the demon hardly flinched.
"Now, now," he hissed. "Play nice, or I shall have to hurt you." His face came closer as he inhaled sharply through his bulbous nose. "How I would love to taste of your flesh, little one…"
"Why…are you doing this?"
The demon drew his head back slightly. "So we can finally take what is ours."
"Which is?"
The demon went to answer, but before he could do so, I summoned every ounce of strength I had and kicked straight upward as hard as I could. I was almost shocked when my boot connected with the stretched flesh of the demon’s neck, causing him to gag and monetarily loosen his grip on me. With my forearm, I smashed down onto the demon’s arm, managing to break his grip at last.
When I dropped to the floor, I dove for the duffel bag, intending to go for the Watcher Knife. But in doing so, I turned my back on the demon. Next thing I knew, he had gripped me by the hair, pulling me off balance and dragging me backward across the floor.
"Fucking human hybrids!" he hissed, sounding more than a little pissed off by now. "You’re more trouble than you’re worth, but no one listens to me, do they? If they did, then—"
A series of loud bangs suddenly stopped the demon in his tracks, and I quickly realized that someone down the corridor had fired a gun. What was more surprising, was the demon actually sounded hurt. Two more shots were fired over my head, causing me to duck as if to avoid them. When I felt the demon release his grip on me, I crawled across the floor to the duffel back and quickly found the Watcher Knife. But when I sprang to my feet and spun around to face the demon, there was no sign of him. The corridor was empty.
A second later, I turned around to see who it was that was doing the shooting, half expecting it to be Frank, having followed me perhaps, still thinking I was in danger, which lets be honest, he wouldn’t have been wrong about.
Through the gunpowder smoke and dim lighting, a figure emerged…a figure which wasn’t Frank. "Hector?" I said in near amazement.
The old man was standing there holding a large handgun as he stared over at me. "You okay there, Missy?"
I could only nod in return, as I thought, This shit just keeps getting weirder.
13
Hector was now back behind the front desk, slowly sitting down in his old chair, the gun now put away somewhere out of sight. I noticed his hand shaking slightly as he reached down the side of the chair and produced a small bottle of whiskey from the floor. I waited on him drinking before I said anything.
"Thanks." My voice was hoarse, my throat and neck muscles sore from the demon’s iron grip. "You didn’t have to put yourself at risk for me, though."
Hector threw me a look as he held on to the whiskey bottle. "Who says I did it for you? That goddamn demon was in my place of business. That means it was up to me to get rid of the fucker."
I was more than a little surprised to hear him refer to my attacker as a demon. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about. "You know a lot about demons?"
"Enough to know they shouldn’t be able to get in here." He waved the whiskey bottle across himself. "This place is meant to be warded against those fuckers. I don’t know how that one got in."
I shook my head. "Are you some sort of Watcher too?"
He snorted. "Not likely, Missy. Your mother was, though, wasn’t she? And I venture you’re aiming to become just like her, am I right?"
I gave him a shrug. "Maybe."
Hector’s blue eyes focused intently on me for a moment, then he nodded. "Yeah, you have that same look in your eye that she did."
"What look?"
"Determined. Focused. You’re missing the haunted part, though. I’m sure that will come with time."
"You seem to know a lot about this, for—"
"A human?" He smiled at the look on my face. "I know what you are, Missy. I also know what a demon looks like, thanks to this." From around his neck, he showed me a small silver pendant with a black stone in the middle, and familiar looking runic glyphs engraved around the outside. "This allows me to see them. Your mother gave me it."
It felt weird to hear him refer to himself as a human, and for the first time, I truly realized that I was different in the profoundest of ways. I was only half human.
Does that mean I have to stand apart from the rest of humanity now, or remain alongside it?
"I was going to say, for a storage unit manager, but anyway…"
"Owner," he corrected. "I own this joint."
"Did my mother fill you in on all this…"
"Crazy, fucked up shit?"
A smile crossed my face as I nodded. "Yeah."
"She did, after she helped me clear out a nest of vampires who took over some of my units. She gave me the gun as well, loaded with some kind of special bullets. Never had to use it, until now. I should probably count myself lucky that the ammunition still packed the necessary punch to get both our asses out of the shit. If I was a betting man, I'd bank on the fact that once that ugly as fuck bastard had finished his plans for you, it'd be going for a side dish of a la carte de human…on account of the failed intervention that is!"
"I’m sorry. I must’ve brought the demon here. It must’ve followed me."
Hector nodded as if he understood. "You didn’t know, right?"
I didn’t answer straight away. A pang of guilt hit me as I realized I probably should’ve listened to Frank and just stayed put. I also realized I could’ve died, or been taken away by the demon, probably to wherever Josh was being held, and then we’d both be fucked. "I didn’t know, of course not. But in retrospect, I should've considered that demons might be following me "
"Well," Hector said. "Regardless of whether you meant to or not, you brought trouble right to my door. I’m going to have to insist that you stay away from here, at least until you sort out whatever trouble you happen to be in. No offense. I said the same thing to your mother once."
"What did she say?’
"She agreed with me." His eyes held no malice, or even blame. If anything, there was a warmth to them that I hadn’t seen before.
"Okay," I said nodding. "That sounds fair, I guess."
Hector smiled. "Your unit will be safe."
I smiled back. "Glad to hear it."
Before I left, I returned briefly to the storage unit, went inside and grabbed a few thousand dollars from a stack of cash my mother had stashed. It was clear that I would have to stay away from the unit for longer than anticipated, given that the demons knew about it now. The cash was to see me through, should I need it, and because I had no wish to bum completely of Frank.
As I was leaving with the duffel bag, Hector ca
lled after me, and I stopped and turned around. "You might want to consider wearing a scarf for the next while," he said.
Touching my neck, I nodded. "You might want to consider strengthening your defenses here as well."
Hector half-smiled before nodding. "Will do, Missy," he said. "Will do."
I was nervous about going outside, even though it was a bright, sunny morning. As I quickly scanned the small parking lot, I half expected to see more demons standing in wait, or one of those Pit Demons crouched behind a car waiting on me. But I saw nothing as I quickly walked to the Mustang, throwing the duffel bag on the front passenger seat before getting in myself. The tires screeched as I burned out of the parking lot, only wanting to put distance between myself and the site of my recent attack.
After ten minutes of fast, often erratic driving, I finally started to slow down when I reached the Warehouse District, by which time I was pretty sure I wasn’t being followed by anyone. To be certain, I drove through one of the industrial estates, taking random turns before ending up at the exit.
As I was about to drive out, my phone started ringing in my jacket pocket. I pulled over to the side of the road before taking the it out. For a crazy second, I thought it might be Josh, calling to tell me he was all right. But when I checked the caller ID, it said KASEY. I hadn’t spoken to her since yesterday, before the madness happened at the house. I hesitated before answering, wondering what I was going to say to her, wondering if she knew what was going on.
As it turned out, she did know.
"What the fuck is going on?" she asked me when I finally answered. "I thought you were fucking dead."
Shit.
"I’m sorry, Kase," I said, subconsciously looking into the rearview mirror every few seconds. "Things have just been…crazy."
Kasey sneezed. She sounded terrible as she spoke. "Have you seen the news? You and Josh are all fucking over it. The cops want to find you two for questioning."
"Christ." Not that it was any great surprise to hear that I was now a wanted fugitive on top of everything else.
Kasey went silent for a moment. "What happened to Diane, Leia?"
"You sound like shit. Are you sick?"
"Yeah, I’m down with the flu. Stop deflecting. What the fuck happened? Are you all right?"
I puffed my cheeks out before answering, then rubbed at my still sore neck. "I’ve been better."
"You aren’t hurt or anything, are you?"
I made a face at my reflection in the mirror. "I’m okay, Kase."
"So who the fuck killed your foster mom then?"
"It’s probably best you don’t know," I said. "For your own protection."
"Since when did I need fucking protecting?" she said defensively. "And since when did you start working for the NSA, what with the whole 'it'd be safer for me if you didn't tell me the truth'. Does this have something to do with the fucking jerk who attacked us the night before Dianne was killed, or with what your mother's storage unit has in it, how it could arm a small army if she wanted? Does this tie back into your parent’s death somehow? Did the same people who murdered your parents kill Dianne?"
Jesus, she sounded like a damn conspiracy nut. But like all conspiracy theories, there was more than a little truth to what she was saying, not that I would admit any of it.
It hit me then that my friendship with Kasey would change forever, if it hadn’t already done so. There was no way I could drag her into the world I now found myself in. There was no way I was going to be responsible for her death, if anything were to happen. If the last few days had taught me anything, it was that anything could, and usually did, happen.
"I’m sorry, Kase," I said. "I’m not willing to put your life at risk by drawing you into this with me."
"I thought we were best friends," she said, sounding wounded by my apparent mistrust. "We’re supposed to tell each other everything. We always have each other’s backs. Isn’t that the way it’s always been?"
I closed my eyes for a second as I shook my head. "I have very nearly died twice in as many days, and I’m not about to expose you to the same danger when I don’t have to. As my friend, surely you can understand that?"
Kasey went quiet for quite a long time, to the point where I thought she had hung up on me, but she eventually said, "All I know is, my best friend is in trouble, and she won’t let me help her."
Fucks’s sake.
Just stand firm…
"That’s not how it is, Kase," I said.
"Yeah, it is."
I sighed. "Look, if you really want to know what’s going on with me, I’ll happily fill you in, but not until the shitstorm I’m in has passed."
If it ever does.
"Fuck’s sake," Kasey said, sounding bunged up. "If my head weren’t banging, I’d be fucking screaming at you right now—" She broke off into a coughing fit.
"Jesus, Kase, you sound awful. I’m coming over there."
"No, don’t bother. I’ll be fine. You just go do what you have to do…without me."
She sounded slightly more accepting of the situation now, but knowing her as well as I did, I knew she wouldn’t stop until she got the truth out of me at some point. "You sure you’ll be all right?"
"I’ve got whiskey and paracetamol. That’s all I need."
"You need a new place to live is what you need. That building is full of draughts. I’m surprised you don’t have pneumonia."
"It’s full of more than just draughts."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing, I just saw some guy dragging something down into the basement last night. It freaked me out is all."
"Dragging something into the basement? Like…a body?"
"Or an old carpet. I don’t fucking know. It just creeped me out. Point is, I’m looking for a new place."
I’d offered a few times in the past to help her out with paid accommodation, but she always fervently declined my offers based on some notion of herself as being "born for the streets". Not an assertion I agree with, but you can’t force people to do things they don’t want to do, that is, my own present circumstances aside. "I’m glad to hear it."
I stared out the window in silence for a moment until Kasey spoke again. "All right, I gotta get some sleep. I was up all night coughing. You be careful, Sister, you hear?"
I smiled. "I hear you."
"And for the record, I’m still not happy about this secrecy bullshit."
"Neither am I," I told her. "But it’s the way it has to be."
After hanging up, I sat staring out the window for another few minutes, my mind having now turned to the things the demon said at Hector’s place. The demon had implied that something had been done to Josh, though I had no idea what. The very notion twisted my stomach with worry. What the hell did the demon mean? And what did he mean when he said they would finally get what is theirs?
It was just questions on top of questions inside my mind, none of which I had any concrete answers to.
But there was one man who might.
Frank.
It occurred to me that if I wanted answers, I had better start working with him. I would also need to start trusting him, which I still wasn’t fully inclined to do, in spite of what my mother said about him, and in spite of the fact that he was family. Frank was a man of secrets, that much was obvious. But his heart seemed to be in the right place. He had helped me so far, so maybe that was proof enough that he was on my side.
Although, I couldn’t exactly hold it against Frank that he kept secrets, especially when I was beginning to chalk up quite a few of my own. The Watcher life seemed to demand it. Frank just had a two decade head start on me. God knows how many secrets I would end up harboring myself after that amount of time went by. If it went by, and I didn’t die first.
Sighing and shaking my head, I started the engine and sped off toward the cabin in the mountains.
14
"I’ll be honest," Frank said when I walked into the cabin. "I didn’t think yo
u were coming back."
He was sitting at the reading table in the living room, a laptop open in front of him, one which I recognized immediately as I stood staring by the door. Bane was lying down by the fireplace. He didn’t bother to get up and greet me. "Is that why you’re using my laptop?" I said to him, nodding at it. "Let me guess, you were watching the video of my mother."
Frank said nothing as he grabbed his whiskey glass off the table and sank the contents in one. He looked a little shook up to me, like he’d just seen a ghost from his past, which I guess he had in a way. "I had to see for myself," he said after a while, his voice slightly distant as if his mind was elsewhere.
I came forward and sat in the chair across from him. "How many times have you watched it?"
He shook his head slightly. "Just the once, and believe me, that was enough."
I doubted that, but I didn’t push him on it. If he was as close to my mother as I suspected he was, he was no doubt feeling like the universe was imploding right now, the way I did when I first watched the video. "What happened, Frank?"
He seemed slightly taken aback by the question, then deflected. "Are those bruises on your neck?"
"Yes. I’ll tell you about it later, after you tell me what happened."
"What do you mean, what happened?"
"You know what I mean." I rested one arm on the table as I stared at him. "What exactly happened to my mother? Why did the demon come that night?"
Frank stared at me a moment. Then he lifted his glass and walked to the kitchen, saying nothing as he refilled it with more whiskey. After taking a drink, he remained standing in the kitchen for another moment, as if he was hesitant about coming back to the table. Eventually he did, though, sitting rather awkwardly across from me again. "There’s a lot you don’t know."
