Nightwalkers

by Candace Wondrak

  “It laughed.” But, apparently, that wasn’t enough of a description for Raphael, because he motioned me to continue. “It laughed a lot. It actually reminded me of…”

  “Reminded you of what?” Gabriel prodded further, forcing me to say it.

  “A hyena.” I looked up to Michael and Gabriel, who both were silent.

  Raphael took a few steps closer to me. The look in his eyes said he knew something, but was not yet sure if that something was relevant. “Did it speak to you, Kass?”

  I bit my lip. Yep, he knew what it was. Good thing I told Michael to get him here. “Yeah.” And before he could ask me what it said, I repeated it, “Pretty girl. Need you. That’s all it said. It also sounded like a kid when it spoke, if that helps.”

  Raphael nodded once. “As I suspected. You are right. This is no Nightwalker.” He stared at me straightforwardly. “You were right to bring me here. I am well versed in Demonology, from all cultures and all times. Your first few descriptions were vague. It could have been hundreds of Demons. But.” The intenseness of his eye to eye stare was beginning to become too much for me, but I dared not look away. “From the laughter and childlike speech you described, I believe I know what it is.”

  “Well? What is it?” I asked swiftly. I was not patient. Not in a time like this. I needed to know what that thing was now, or I might die from anticipation.

  “The Toozkie Demon, originating in Africa thousands of years ago. More commonly known as the Hyena, simply enough, for its vicious laughter and low speech skills. They were notorious for aligning with other types of lesser Demons, frequently—” Raphael finally broke the staring contest we were having to glance at Michael and Gabriel. “—Vampires.”

  “Explains how that group of Nightwalkers knew about the ancient ritual to bring back Osiris,” Michael said what we were all thinking but were too stunned to say.

  Raphael nodded once more. “Yes. It does make sense. But the Hyena Demons haven’t been seen since the fifteenth century, when there was a sudden spike in the Demon population.”

  “Maybe they came out of hiding?” I suggested, shrugging.

  “No. They never went into hiding, Kassandra. The other Demons hunted them down to extinction. That’s why they haven’t been seen. They hosted hunts, witch trials, beheadings, and hangings, and those were only the most common. Some accounts say that dismemberment by horses was favored among the higher ranking Demons. You see, the majority of other Demons hated them, as they do lesser Vampires.”

  After hearing that, I could understand why the one still around had hidden itself away until now. What I did not understand was why the other Demons disliked them, so I asked. “Why?”

  “They are parasites to those who are more powerful than them. One touch and they can steal a higher Demon’s essence…” Realization dawned in Raphael’s eyes.

  Oh my God. It all made sense now. “The Hyena Demon is working with the Nightwalkers to bring back Osiris, but not for their salvation…” I trailed off. Things were just getting worse and worse today.

  “So it can take Osiris’s power. Well, this is just great,” Gabriel exclaimed, rubbing a hand through his blonde hair. “Hold on a second. Does Osiris even have any powers? If he doesn’t, then we don’t have to worry…as much.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Osiris had many abilities. Inducing comas and hallucinations, brain enlargement, turning men into sandstone. He can also control any type of energy, be it elemental or not,” Raphael rattled off. He could probably have kept going, but maybe he figured that what he said was enough for us to know that Osiris could not be brought back.

  And these ancient Egyptians worshiped it. Ain’t that a laugh. Not a hyena laugh, but a figurative laugh. I did some research on the Internet, and all the websites said nothing about Osiris being an evil Demon. A few sites even said that it was beneficent. In reality, Osiris was a very bad Demon. Who would’ve thunk it?

  “Hmm…well, brain enlargement doesn’t seem so bad,” Gabriel stated.

  “You are right.” Raphael replied, mockingly, “If you don’t mind your head exploding from size of your new brain.”

  “Oh…” Gabriel was shocked into silence, for a moment, anyways. “Yeah, that’s probably not good.”

  “So,” I began, my words invading the silence of the room like an unwelcomed guest. “So we all agree that this Hyena is using the Nightwalkers to bring back Osiris so it can steal its power?” I was met with three nods.

  To think I’d only been here for about three and a half days, and already the world was pretty much doomed.

  Welcome to my life.

  That night, I slept about…a total of three hours. Which, even though I was not a normal person, was still not enough sleep for me. I just couldn’t turn my stupid mind off. Half the time I was thinking about the whole Osiris thing.

  Why was the Hyena Demon doing this? For revenge? And how much longer did we have until they acquired the other things they needed? When they got those items, were they going to do the ritual right away, or were they going to hold off a bit? Did we know everything about their plan? Or was there still something else that we hadn’t discovered?

  See what I mean? Once my mind raced, it very rarely came back anytime soon.

  The other half of the time I spent thinking of John. Would he still talk to me during school? Or was he going to give me the cold shoulder? Would he still try chasing after me, or would he just give up on me because of all the things Gabriel said?

  Even after I woke up in the morning, my mind was roaming, replaying the conversations over and over, seeing if I could have done anything differently to get a better outcome.

  But as Koath always said, Everything happens for a reason.

  I knew a lot of people said that, but Koath was the only one who ever said that to me.

  Koath.

  I missed him. I loved Koath like a father, since I didn’t exactly have a father. Of course I had one somewhere down the line, but I didn’t really have have one. My real father was out there somewhere, being someone. Someone real. Not like me, living a lie every day, putting myself in danger all the time, and purifying evil so society can remain. My father was a real person. Something I could never be.

  I was a real person in that I was tangible and had a soul. But…sometimes it didn’t feel like it.

  Sometimes I wished that I was normal. That I lived a normal life, ignorant to evil and Demons and all that. Sometimes I wished I had known my mother and father. That we celebrated every little holiday, every little achievement that I’d accomplished in school or sports.

  And sometimes I wished that I didn’t wish as much.

  After all, no matter how hard I wished, things wouldn’t change. I was who I was.

  Don’t get me wrong, I loved being me. I loved the relative freedom I had, I loved the men in my life (though sometimes it was hard not to strangle them), and I loved the fact that I could kill a Demon using nothing but my right foot and a toothpick.

  But was it too much to ask that we celebrated my A plus in calculus every now and again? That we went to the grocery store together, like a real family? That we took a corny holiday picture and plastered it onto an extravagant Christmas card?

  Not that I’d have anybody to send one to. I was only saying that it’d be nice to do it at least once before I die.

  Then again, now that I was thinking about it, there were a lot of things I wanted to do before I died. Go to Hawaii, climb Mount Everest, hike down the Grand Canyon, fall in love, get married, have kids, live to see grandkids. Yeah…living to see grandkids would be nice.

  Odds were, though, none of those were going to happen.

  Being in my profession meant nothing was guaranteed. Not even life. But, hey. Someone’s gotta do it. If not me, then who?

  Exactly.

  I rolled out of bed in a quite literal fashion. Today was Saturday, and undoubtedly there was some surprise waiting for me downstairs. And by surprise I meant something involving Raphael
and learning.

  If this day never started, it would be too soon.

  I didn’t even bother changing out of my pajamas. That’s how much I didn’t care.

  I walked downstairs and was greeted by the sight of Gabriel and Michael doing a Michael Jackson dance while making breakfast. It was a funny thing to watch. Laughing, I took a step closer and was going to join them, but then I noticed that they were making pancakes.

  I did not like pancakes. They were gross little flat things.

  That’s when Gabriel turned and saw me. Still dancing, he smiled and told me, “Don’t worry, my raccoon. I’m making you waffles.”

  Thank God. Waffles I loved. Pancakes not so much. I knew they were the same thing, made of the same batter, but I hated pancakes and loved waffles. It was just a thing of mine. Don’t ask me, because I didn’t know either.

  Then it occurred to me why Gabriel was making me waffles. It was his way of telling me he was sorry for what he did last night. And if that was the case, he needed to make me about a thousand waffles. Every morning.

  I sat at the table and watched the two guys do their thing. The Michael Jackson song went off, and a Journey song came on. Gabriel slid a plate to me, with three golden brown waffles on it. Freshly buttered and just the way I like them. I took the fork and started cutting when Gabriel sat across from me.

  “Listen,” he began after I put the first piece in my mouth, “I’m sorry.”

  That made me choke instantaneously. Gabriel never apologized. Ever. Never ever. Not once could I remember him saying the words I’m and sorry in the same sentence, next to each other. I wanted to ask him ‘where is the real Gabriel and what have you done with him?’ But I let him continue with his apology, savoring every second of it.

  “About last night. I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just wanted to…” Gabriel got quiet, but I gave him a you-better-keep-going-or-I’ll-shove-this-fork-in-your-eye glare, forcing him to continue. “I don’t know. Scare him, or something. Tell him that if he messes with you, he’s messing with me. You know, that kind of thing. Except, I guess it didn’t really come out like that.”

  I agreed, because last night it didn’t seem like he was concerned about my well-being. It kinda seemed like he was…jealous.

  Okay, there. It’s out.

  Last night Gabriel seemed jealous. I didn’t know why, though. We lived in the same house, we saw each other all the time, we even brushed our teeth together. So why would he be jealous? Unless he didn’t want John to…take me away from him?

  Hah, right. Like that was the truth. No, I was sure that last night Gabriel was feeling a little upset that I left with a stranger like John, in the middle of a mission. Yeah. That seemed closer to the truth.

  “I just,” Gabriel chose his words carefully, “don’t want you to get hurt. Boys are pigs, you know. They only want one thing.”

  I cannot believe this was the direction he was taking his apology.

  “They want one thing, Kass,” he repeated, as if I didn’t hear him the first time. Which I did. “Once they get what they want, they leave. Unless they love you. Then they might stick around, maybe. But I don’t think this is the case with John. Because, I’m sure it takes more than three days to fall in love. I mean, I’ve heard it takes quite a while, you know, to love someone. The whole process…John seems like a player. Not that a player can’t love someone. I’m not saying that. It’s just…”

  The phone rang and cut through his apology. Michael was reaching for it, but Gabriel yelled, “No! Phone! I got it!” He jumped out of the chair and sprinted towards the phone, as if he was running away from finishing his apology.

  Truthfully, I didn’t know where he was going to take that apology anyway. He had started to mix up his words and mumble. But as for his first ever apology, it was pretty good.

  I finished off the waffles, listening to Gabriel say “Uh-huh” and “okay” every few seconds. Who was he talking to? Definitely not a girl. Because if it was a girl, he would have turned into the suave, I-know-you-want-me Gabriel and not the yeah-let’s-get-on-with-this Gabriel.

  “We’ll be there.” Gabriel hung up the phone and walked over, slumping his back. He was doing the Charlie Brown sad walk. This was definitely not good thing. He meandered to the seat he recently jumped out of. His head, without delay, landed on the table.

  “Who was it?” Michael asked, his accent unusually thick. Maybe he felt more like an Englishman in that apron. I didn’t know, but I found it very weird that he wore an apron when he cooked.

  Gabriel mumbled. Michael didn’t hear him…but I did. This sucked.

  “What? Speak up, Gabriel.”

  “I said it was Raphael.” Gabriel finally brought his head up. He had a huge red mark where the table had been. I would have laughed, but the fact that Raphael called and Gabriel responded with a “we’ll be there” made me think twice and realize that we had to go over to the church. Presumably to learn something.

  Like I haven’t learned enough somethings already.

  “Yes?” Michael urged him, trying to get more details of the conversation.

  “He said to come to the church, go around back to the field. Straight away,” Gabriel mocked Raphael.

  “Then what are you both waiting for?”

  “He said we have to,” Gabriel paused and looked at me, “wear comfortable clothes.”

  “What?” I whined. Comfortable clothes? What did that mean? It was such an unclear statement. There was more than one type of comfortable. Did he mean baggy jeans comfortable, or roll out of bed comfortable, or…well, I could think of lots of others.

  “And he said to bring some reading material…” Gabriel turned from me to Michael. “From Michael’s library.”

  “But all my books are about—” Michael went off on a tangent, probably trying to name the title of every single book he owned. All of them boring and about Demons.

  “Yeah, well. I’m off to change and pick some out, I guess.” Gabriel stood up and stomped upstairs.

  I looked at Michael. “Do I have to? I just ate…”

  Michael gave me that look he always gives me. The one that said, ‘You have to do it. Whether you like it or not.’

  And let me say, I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  You can’t just say wear something comfortable to a girl, or else you’d get a wide variety of what something comfortable really was. Some girls thought heels and little, tiny dresses were comfortable. Others would go for their fat jeans and a t-shirt. Some might even go for those little shorts with the elastic waistband, sweatpants. I mean the list went on and on. It really did. Not exaggerating here.

  But me, here I was walking around the rundown church wearing some clothes that were very comfortable, except they weren’t mine. I was wearing Gabriel’s clothes, because long story short: I didn’t know what comfortable really was, Gabriel was tired of waiting for me, so he took the initiative and threw some clothes at me.

  That’s how I came to be wearing Gabriel’s basketball shorts and one of his Star Wars t-shirts, with a pair of tennis shoes. But hey, give me some credit. At least the tennis shoes were mine. Gabriel himself was wearing a newer pair of basketball shorts and an Office Space shirt.

  We made it to the back of the church, which was a miracle all in itself, when I saw another miracle: a field of recently cut grass and no Raphael in sight. I think I heard us both exhale a relief-filled sigh.

  In a moment our sighs were cut off by the man himself, Raphael, who had apparently came up behind us. “Who would like to go first?”

  Without turning around to face him, Gabriel replied, “Kass would.”

  I pushed him, because I didn’t even know what I was supposed to do, and I sure as hell didn’t want to volunteer. My push didn’t do much. Somehow Gabriel can do this thing where he turns to stone, which made it impossible to nudge him even a little bit. It’s like when you’re dragging a dog somewhere it didn’t want to go, and they seemed to weigh ten times more than t
hey really did. That’s what Gabriel did.

  “Okay. Gabriel take a seat and start reading.”

  Gabriel glanced down at the book, titled Hunger Demons Vol. 1, and then around at the field. “Sit where?”

  “Anywhere you won’t get in our way,” Raphael answered, already looking annoyed at the blonde boy.

  Gabriel shrugged, said “Alright” and walked over to the side of the church. He sat, leaning his back on the dark stone wall, and opened the book, feigning interest so he wouldn’t have to look at my face, which probably said ‘Gabriel, I’m going to kill you.’

  Which lately was the normal look I’d been giving Gabriel.

  As I was busy shooting Gabriel a glare, I was measured in returning my unhappy look to Raphael. For a strange reason, my unhappiness faded as I studied him. What did I do in a previous life that I deserved to have so many good-looking guys in my life? Currently, I didn’t care if I couldn’t touch them. Looking was enough. And right now, I was getting an eyeful of the young tutor.

  I didn’t even know how to describe it. All I knew was that he was not in his priest clothes, and he looked good, to say the absolute least. He was actually wearing a plain white shirt with some black pants, and his hands were wrapped in…bandages.

  Wait. What? Bandages? Why were his hands wrapped up like he was in an old fashioned Kung-Fu movie? And why was he holding four more strips of the same said bandage?

  I had my answer when he handed me two and threw the other two towards Gabriel.

  “Put them on,” Raphael ordered as he turned and walked a few steps away from me.

  I didn’t like where this was going. “Why?” I asked him, though I knew why. I just didn’t want to believe it. But, regardless, I begun to wrap my knuckles and hands in the bandages anyway.

  “It will help protect your fists. If you do not care about having bloody knuckles or not, then by all means.” Raphael held up his own hands. “Do not wrap.”

  I waited a few moments before responding, “Naw. I think I’m going to wrap.” After about a minute or so, my hands were fully prepared for the fight that was about to take place.