The Demon's Deal

by H. D. Gordon

  When I reached the end of the trail, the log cabin looming just ahead, I looked back to the spot where the raven had been perched.

  But the bird was no longer there.

  Chapter Seventeen

  One wish.

  Any wish.

  It was better than nothing, provided more hope than I’d been able to muster for what felt a very long time.

  We all agreed. We would see the Seer Thomas and I had previously found, and go in search of the Relic. It was worth a shot, at least.

  “I’ll go along with this plan,” I said as the fire crackled beside me, “on one condition.”

  The others held my gaze, waiting.

  “Everyone here has to promise that I’m the one who goes in after the Relic,” I said. “If there is danger in any situation we face, I’m the one who meets it. No one else, because I’m the one with nothing left to lose.”

  No one argued, not even Thomas, but I could see he had no intentions of letting me face whatever was next alone, so I decided I would have a talk with him once we were alone.

  Then, it was time to head back to the forest where the tricky Gnome and Seer lived. The Peace Brokers were still looking for us, so they also reluctantly agreed to let me go alone.

  What they didn’t know was, I had no intention of returning after learning whatever I’d learn. I was going to finish this mission. Find the Seer, then the City, and then, the Relic, and give it back to the guardian. If the Relic Guardian offered me a wish in return, then that would be just peachy, as well.

  Only Nick Ramhart, the other Empath in the room, could read my intentions in my aura. He let me know this by giving my hand an extra squeeze upon saying goodbye. While the others wished me Godspeed, Nick met my eyes and said without words that he knew.

  When his aura flashed with green and purple, I knew what that meant, too.

  “Good luck, soldier,” his aura said. “It’s been an honor serving with you.”

  This time, if the feathered Gnome came flying at my face, I would be ready.

  But the Gnome was not in his bird form when I entered the forest hours later, having taken a motorcycle from the cabin’s garage and ridden straight there. Instead, he walked right up to me in his mortal form, hairy face unsurprised, as if he’d been waiting for me.

  “Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked.

  I spread my hands. “Just me this time.”

  He grunted and turned, walking deeper into the forest.

  I hurried to catch up to him. “What? No payment this time?”

  The Gnome shrugged. “I didn’t charge you last time, if you recall. I charged your human friend. Never liked humans. I love the trees and they are not friends of the trees.” His eyes flicked to me and back ahead. “You? You’re okay.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I mean, if you want to tell me your deepest secrets, I’m not going to stop you. Knowledge is power, you know.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  I held my hands up. “Just making conversation.”

  He smacked his lips. “Yes, well, names have power, Aria Fae, so be careful who you share yours with.”

  “Yeah, well, everyone seems to know mine already, anyway.”

  He was quiet for so long I was sure he wouldn’t answer. Then, he said, “Fred Nightbathe.”

  I’m a butt, so I had to stop myself from laughing. I doubted he would appreciate it. “Nice to meet you, Fred.”

  We reached the base of the tree with the Seer’s house, and when I turned to thank him, he was already gone. What was with the vanishing act from the forest creatures as of late? I tucked this away for later as I began the ascend into the tree. The ladder swayed as I went up and up. Night had fully descended, and a shiver raced up my spine the higher I went.

  A rustle to my right had me stopping mid-ladder, blinking into the inky darkness for several moments before deciding that it was probably smart to keep moving. By the time I reached the top, and hauled myself onto the landing outside the small structure tucked into the canopy, I was sweating and breathing heavily. I didn’t think this was entirely due to exertion.

  In the near distance, an owl hooted, and a breeze rustled the leaves. I clenched my teeth together to suppress a shiver.

  I rapped gently on the slab of wood that served as a door before slowly pushing my way inside.

  The smell of blood hit me instantly. I clapped a hand over my sensitive nose, fumbled my phone out of my pocket, and flicked on the flashlight.

  I swallowed a scream.

  Sitting in the same nook we’d left her in was the Seer, her head ripped from her shoulders.

  My instinct was to run—or climb, rather, as fast as I could away from the scene.

  My trainings insisted that I examine the evidence. Whoever had done this had wanted to make a statement, to send a message. I wanted to make sure I read it.

  I pulled the collar of my shirt up over my nose and mouth, trying to staunch the smell, and slowly moved deeper into the tree house. Using my phone flashlight, I saw a lantern and a book of matches, and struck a flame. I set the glowing lantern on one of the tree stumps and began to look around.

  There was so much blood everywhere. It smelled irony, like all blood, but there was an underlying scent that marked it as something other. I started snapping pictures with my phone for later examination, pausing when I got to the body.

  Pressing the back of my free hand to my still covered mouth, I crept forward.

  The Seer’s neck was indeed removed from the shoulders, but not with the kind of clean cut that a guillotine might provide. Instead, it looked as though it had been ripped free at the neck. I shuddered at the thought of how much brute strength it would take to do such a thing, running through a list of creatures that would even be capable.

  The list wasn’t very long, but every beast on it was not one I would want to come into contact with.

  I snapped a couple more pictures, muttering a small prayer for the deceased, and examined the rest of the space. I tried to be thorough but quick, as every whisper of the wind in this dark place was making me jump out of my skin, and almost missed the thing entirely.

  It caught my attention just as I was about to leave, sticking out of a crevice between the wood, easily mistaken for a leaf. Except, it didn’t have an aura around it, like all green leaves do. It was the kind of thing that might only jump out to a Fae, someone with my particular abilities.

  Plucking it free from the crevice in the wall, I unfolded the little green paper and stared down at what was written there.

  It was an address. Nothing more.

  I blinked as I read it, trying to think of why the address seemed familiar. It was somewhere in Grant City, and while I’d learned the place pretty well, I knew my way around mostly by visual standpoints. I’d never paid much attention to street names, but landmarks, instead.

  I tucked the leaf into my pocket, and was halfway down the ladder hanging from the tree house when it hit me.

  I knew the address, because I had been there before. More than once.

  The address on the note was Caleb Cross’s house.

  I couldn’t get out of that forest fast enough.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been watching me, and the gruesome image of the Seer’s body had rattled me. I really had no desire for a run-in with whatever had done that to her.

  Pulling the hood of my jacket over my head, I hopped back on the motorbike I’d left at the foot of the forest and pointed the nose toward Grant City. I’d need to be careful, because the Peace Brokers were no doubt still scrambling to find me, waiting for me to slip up so that I could lead them back to the others.

  But there was no avoiding this. I needed to see Caleb. Really, I should have done so long before now.

  When I reached the outskirts of Grant City, I ditched the bike in a public parking lot and scaled the side of a building. The sun would be rising soon, th
e sky going from the pitch of night to the deep blue of early morning. I had an hour, at most, before the sun illuminated the world, so I moved quickly towards Cross Manor, leaping from building to building as though I could outrun the sun.

  When the grounds came into view, the massive main house sitting atop the lush green hill, I paused for a small moment.

  I had never loved Caleb the way he’d loved me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love him at all. Other than Samantha, Caleb had been the first friend I’d made when I’d moved to Grant City. He’d been generous and kind and accepting of me, when he’d had no incentive to be. Eventually, I’d had to choose, and I’d chosen to be with Thomas rather than Caleb, and while I couldn’t imagine being with anyone but Thomas now, that didn’t mean the decision didn’t still sting.

  But Cross Corp, the conglomerate that Caleb’s father owned, always seemed to be right at the center of every mess I came across. The lab of Halflings that were being experimented upon, the blue beast that had escaped and terrorized the city, the kidnapping of women, the Black Magic flooding the streets.… All of them were connected, and the nexus appeared to be Cross Corp.

  When I’d started digging, Caleb had even helped me. He’d helped me break into his father’s office, helped me find that nightmare lab in the first place. I’d woken his older brother from a coma, and that had been a whole other can of worms. Not to mention their creepy ass father, Christian Cross.

  So, yeah, things had been complicated between us.

  But what stuck out most about all that, was that Caleb had been good to me. He’d always been good to me.

  So why was I hesitating on the edge of his property? Why was my stomach twisting at the thought of seeing him again?

  I let out a sharp breath and snuck forward, avoiding the numerous security guards and cameras on the property. I made it to the balcony outside of Caleb’s bedroom, slipping silently onto it, landing in a crouch and glancing around before opening the glass door and stepping inside.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was cold.

  No, it was freezing in here. I shivered as I squinted into the shadows of the large bedroom. Caleb wasn’t here. I’d have to wait for him. I shut the balcony door behind me, and was about to settle into one of the plush chairs when the door to the bedroom opened, and in walked Caleb Cross.

  He stopped abruptly when he saw me, as if he’d run smack into an invisible brick wall. The door clicked shut behind him.

  “Aria?” he said. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

  Actually, now that I was looking at him, he looked terrible. His clothes were neat and pressed, like always, and his hair was the same stylishly messy coif that drove the single ladies of Grant City mad when he walked into a room, and his face was the same boy-next-door handsome as it had always been, but something was off. I tried to pinpoint it as I lifted a hand in greeting.

  “Hey, Caleb,” I said.

  My throat grew tight as I watched an array of emotions play through his aura. Had he lost weight? No, that wasn’t it.

  Then it hit me. His aura. His aura was all messed up. In all my years of reading auras, in all the thousands of auras I’d seen throughout my lifetime, Caleb Cross had always had one of the most hopeful of any I’d ever come across. While he’d had his problems like everyone else, his aura had always lifted my spirits upon sight. Old souls, is what Empaths liked to call auras like Caleb’s.

  And now…

  Now it was so dark, so dull.

  So wrong.

  “What have they done to you?” The words were out before it even occurred to me to filter them.

  Caleb blinked, and I cringed as he brushed by me. With how changed he looked, I supposed I should feel lucky that he hadn’t called security already.

  “What, since you’ve been gone?” he asked, and his voice was colder than I could ever remember hearing it. “Nothing has happened. Except for I’ve been shown the truth.”

  He went over to his dresser and began removing his cufflinks, loosening his tie.

  “What truth is that?” I asked, watching him. I realized that I was wary, like a mouse eyeing a hawk, which was ridiculous, all things considered.

  His blue eyes flicked over to me and back to his tasks. “That you can’t trust anyone but family,” he said. “Especially women.”

  The words were like a slap to the face. It took effort not to recoil from them.

  “Caleb…I’m sorry.”

  When he wheeled on me, eyes narrowed and so full of hatred, I did recoil. I took two steps back as he approached.

  “Sorry?” he said, his voice a low snarl. “Sorry for what? For tricking me into helping you steal from my dad? For making me follow you on some wild goose chase? For abandoning me when I needed you most? Or for breaking my heart? Which is it? What are you sorry for, exactly?”

  I searched for a response and came up short.

  “This isn’t you,” I managed.

  Caleb barked a short laugh and rolled his eyes. “You don’t know me.”

  I hid the impact this statement had on me, studying his aura instead. I drew a breath and took another step back. “They’re drugging you,” I said, the realization sudden and sure.

  Caleb advanced another step. “Don’t accuse my family of things,” he said. “I’ve had enough of that from you.”

  I didn’t realize it, but my hand had reached back and gripped my staff, tucked into my waistband. Caleb’s eyes darted down to my hand, and he snorted, taking a step back, lips twisting into a sneer.

  “What?” he said. “You gonna beat me up, Masked Maiden?”

  I didn’t answer, but I didn’t move my hand from my staff, either.

  Caleb shook his head, released a heavy breath, his shoulders slumping, as if he’d run out of steam. For a flash of a moment, I saw the old Caleb in his eyes, in his aura. The real Caleb. The one who was kind and funny, considerate and good-hearted.

  I closed the distance between us, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Caleb, I don’t know what’s happened, but let me help you. Please.”

  He shook off my touch as if it had burned him, stepping back out of my reach. The old Caleb I’d glimpsed was gone, replaced by this broken, hateful boy in front of me.

  “Don’t touch me,” he snapped. “Just leave. You can’t help me, and I’m done helping you, so please, just leave.”

  My throat went tight, my stomach twisting. I backed toward the balcony doors. My eyes were burning, but I blinked away the pooling moisture. “I might…this might be the last time I ever see you,” I said.

  There was no sympathy, no love at all in his eyes when Caleb looked at me then. “Good,” he said.

  I climbed off the balcony, exiting the premises as fast as my feet could move, taking my wounded pride and my broken heart with me.

  When I’d touched his shoulder, I’d put a tracker on him.

  Caleb may not want my help, but he was going to get it, anyway.

  I went to grab some food first, though, because there was no problem in the world that couldn’t be made a little bit better with a belly full of bacon cheeseburger. I hit up a little spot that made some of the best burgers in the city, and ate three for good measure. I would be burning a lot of calories in the next however many hours, and nobody likes a hangry superhero.

  Then, I stopped by one of the various places I’d stashed changes of clothes around the city, since I couldn’t very well go back to my apartment knowing the Peace Brokers were looking for me. They’d have someone scouting the place, waiting for me to return, and even though Shay had let me go, I had no desire to have another run-in with that witch any time soon.

  After that, I had only to watch for the tracker I’d put on Caleb to show some movement. While I waited, I climbed to one of my favorite rooftops in Grant City and curled up in the shadows, shutting my eyes for just a moment, just a cat nap.

  When I awoke, it was to the vibrating of my cellphone. I jerked awake and sat up, rubbing my eyes. My phone, as we
ll as the setting sun, informed me that I had slept the whole day away. And the vibrating indicated the movement of Caleb’s tracker.

  I stood, stretched, and headed off.

  It became obvious that I was heading toward the docks, and as I made my way over, the nightlife of Grant City began to come alive.

  I wasn’t wearing my full Masked Maiden outfit, as I’d left it back at the cabin with the others, but I had a deep hood and knew how to stick to the shadows. Around me, the lights blinked on, a quarter moon rising overhead and peeking out behind the clouds at intervals.

  As I neared the docks, the smell of fish intensified and the gentle lap of the water rode under the sounds of traffic and city life. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as a breeze brushed by. I huddled on the roof of a dock house as I watched three black SUVs pull into a nearby parking lot. I spotted Caleb’s aura in the middle one, and a few heartbeats later, he got out.

  Along with his father, Christian Cross, and his brother, Christopher. And ten men who were as big as houses, all packing heat if the bulges at their waists were any indication.

  I crouched a little lower, peering over the edge of the roof. A few moments later, another car arrived, this one also sleek, but more of the foreign luxury type. When I saw who stepped out of it, I had to snap my mouth shut to keep from gasping.

  Cynthia Shay.

  I couldn’t help the pick-up in the pace of my heartbeat, the sweat that broke out over my brow. For several long moments, all I could do was stare, memories of the things she’d done to me in that sterile room flashing through my head. I stared until the group disappeared into one of the nearby buildings, four of the beefy men remaining outside to stand guard.

  The coward in me wanted to run, and I was starting to recognize a pattern of this flight instinct. Maybe my time spent in that sterile room had messed me up more than I’d thought. It took effort to shake away the paralysis, but I managed.