Dancing With Demons

by Trudi Jaye

  “You don’t think I should stay on with the Professor, either?” Damien didn’t want me to keep working for him, but I thought Blade understood how important it was to me.

  “I just thought you’d prefer going out in the field with me, rather than doing lab work,” says Blade offhandedly. He’s concentrating on the road.

  I grin, knowing he doesn’t realize what he’s just said. “Is that an invitation to go on a picnic with you?” I say, trying to make him uncomfortable. He deserves it for the way he’s rebuffed me.

  Right on schedule, his eyes widen, and he glances at me, then away. “Look, I already explained, Hazel. That kind of thing....”

  I hold up my hand and blue light shines over both our faces. “I was just messing with you, Blade. I get it, you’re all about business over pleasure.”

  “We can be friends, can’t we?”

  “Friends can usually joke with each other and not get freaked out,” I say a little breathlessly. My little demon fizzes with energy, excited that I’m pushing his boundaries.

  The muscles around Blade’s chin bunch together, and I know he’s holding himself back from saying what he really wants to say. For a moment, it seems to teeter in the balance, then it’s over, he’s under control again. He glances at his watch. “We need to get a move on if we’re going to have time to check out these coordinates.” His words are measured, and he’s ignoring the sizzle in the air between us. He’s so good at it, I wonder if it’s just me that feels the connection.

  Except he’s sped up the truck, and we take a turn like he’s practicing for his job as stunt driver on The Dukes of Hazard. I have to hold onto the side of the truck, but I can’t help the tiny smile as I do it. “Don’t take your frustration out on the truck,” I say.

  His hands clench on the steering wheel, and he doesn’t say anything but slows down marginally. The tension releases and we’re soon speeding down the Junipero Serra freeway. We don’t talk; I’m wrapped up in wondering precisely what it means to go rogue, and Blade seems happy enough to stew in his own thoughts.

  “The turn off is coming up. Not far now,” he says eventually, his voice neutral.

  And just like that, my hands are sweaty, and my demon is buzzing. This is my first mission as an actual agent, and I don’t feel prepared. It occurs to me that if we meet any demons, Blade’s going to expect me do my chalice thing and absorb them.

  But I can’t. It’s too much, too overwhelming. My hand clenches over my thigh. Not to mention too painful. The thought of Blade stabbing me again is enough to make me crawl into the back of the pickup and never come out.

  This whole mission suddenly seems like a really bad idea. “Before we go in, will you teach me how to defend myself from a demon?” I blurt the words out, the first thing I can think of to delay our possible confrontation with demons. “You know, with your knife?” Maybe I can just fight my way out instead of absorbing them? Is that enough?

  What I really need is to make more demon hunting devices.

  I need to get back to the lab and figure out a way to protect myself instead of blindly following Blade into dangerous situations. I glance around the truck, as if I’m going to suddenly find a way out as we speed along the freeway.

  “I think screaming is the best way for you to do that.”

  Not if it means I have to absorb a demon.

  “But if I can create another knife like yours, maybe I could fight demons with that instead?”

  “It seems a bit pointless when you can just scream and kill them.”

  “I’d feel safer. What if something happens to my voice?”

  “We’ll see.” Blade doesn’t even take his eyes off the road.

  I shake my head, frustrated. “You and Damien signed me up to be a SIG agent. You can’t take that back, and you can’t expect me to go into a dangerous situation and not be fully prepared. You need to teach me how to use your knife.”

  He glances my way, his face suddenly grim. “I didn’t sign you up. That was all Damien.”

  “Well, however it happened, it’s what I am now. I need your help. You have to train me, otherwise I’m dead.”

  “Fine. I’ll train you.” Blade doesn’t sound happy about it.

  I feel like I’ve won some kind of major battle. “Thank you.”

  Blade doesn’t reply, just keeps his eyes on the road, clearly annoyed. We drive in silence for another few miles, and the whole time I’m trying to figure out ways to avoid having to absorb demons. I just need some kind of receptacle to store them in. Maybe if I made more of the tiny glass bottles? I’d have to figure out the mechanism—

  “Stop that,” growls Blade.

  I turn to him, startled out of my thoughts. “What?”

  “Stop humming. You’re making the hairs on my arms rise up.”

  I immediately look at his muscled arms—he’s right, the hairs are all standing on end like they’ve been groomed in the wrong direction. “How is that my fault?” I ask, confused.

  “It’s your humming.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t see how it could be. I’m just humming.”

  “It’s something about your voice. It must be something to do with being a chalice. I don’t know enough about music to explain it, other than you’re giving off a certain kind of... I don’t know... chord or something.” Blade struggles to explain what he’s hearing.

  “Okay, I’ll stop it, then,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. I can’t even hum without being told to stop.

  It feels like everything is changing around me, and instead of being able to adapt, I’m somehow getting pulled down into a new life I don’t want, like some kind of unpleasant life-changing quicksand.

  3

  “I need knife training before we go to the quarry,” I say.

  Blade keeps his eyes on the road. “We don’t have time.”

  I quickly think through what will persuade him. “You promised, Blade. And it really will make me feel safer.” Memories of the demons towering over me at the ranch skitter through my head. I’m not sure it’s possible for anything to make me feel safer.

  But Blade sighs and glances down at my tightly clenched hand. “Fine,” he says. “We’ll stop somewhere before the quarry and have a few practice throws. Keep an eye out for somewhere private.”

  I let out a whoosh of breath. At least I can try fighting with a knife—maybe if I’m okay at it, I can figure out how to design another one like Blade’s, one that will be attuned to my magic instead of his family’s. Then I could still be useful, even if I can’t absorb the demons.

  We drive for another ten minutes, then turn off the freeway into suburban housing. I start to worry we won’t find somewhere to practice. It’s all too built up. I check out our dot on the GPS; we’re closing in on the quarry. The hairs on my arms rise and my hand is glowing blue again. We’re almost there.

  Up ahead is a patch of forest, trees growing thickly on both sides of the road. There’s also a tiny parking lot and a small sign pointing the way to a walkway.

  “Look. Stop there,” I say, pointing.

  Blade pulls the truck into the small gravel parking area and stops. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.

  “Of course I’m sure,” I say, frowning at him as I get out of the pickup. I grab my crutches and hobble down the path, hoping to find a decent area where we can throw the knife, maybe into a tree. It occurs to me that it’s probably pretty hard to throw a knife and that as soon as you throw one, you’ve lost your only defence. When I become a little more mobile, I’ll have to get Blade to show me how to use a knife in close combat as well.

  I’m wondering if it’s really possible to replicate the one he has—magic and all—when I sense someone coming up behind me. I turn, ready to take out whoever it might be with one of the crutches, only to find that it’s Blade, holding his glowing knife out in front of him.

  “Good. You aren’t completely unaware of your surroundings,” he says. He seems a little disapp
ointed.

  “Did you think you were going to give me lesson number one on being aware? You forget, I’ve been living the life of a lonely, paranoid demon hunter for years. I’m not completely clueless.”

  “Has it been lonely?” he asks softly.

  I shrug. “Sure. Like you said, demons are dangerous. I couldn’t let anyone get close for fear of them getting hurt.”

  “Then why do you keep wanting to kiss me?” His tone indicates he’s wondering if he should be offended.

  “I figure you can take care of yourself.”

  He gives a tiny smile, and a warm feeling spreads inside my chest.

  We continue on in silence, me stumbling along with my crutches, my thoughts whirring around inside my head. Blade is as graceful—and impassive—as ever. We stop in a small area near the path that seems to be a little less full of trees. I lean my crutches against one of the trees to the side, push my glasses firmly up on my nose, and hobble into the center of the clearing. I’m putting most of my weight onto my good leg, which is throwing out my whole body, but I’m determined to do well. Anything to put off seeing a demon.

  “There are a few techniques you can learn with regard to a knife, but the first one I’m going to teach you is pretty simple. It’s called a hammer hold.” He hands me the knife and puts my fingers and thumb in the correct hold around the handle. “Your wrist needs to be locked and square, and the blade is angled up.”

  He moves around my body and moves my wrist and elbow up until he’s happy with their positioning. “The farther the hand is from the body, the less force you can apply, so that’s a weakness of this hold. But it’s also an advantage, because you can reach in and stab a demon and then leap back more easily. It keeps you farther away from them. It also probably feels a little more comfortable, because it’s a more traditional way to hold a knife.”

  “Now what do I do?” I ask, feeling silly holding the knife out in front of me.

  “You need to work on your stance. It’s better to be side on to your opponent, to give them less of your body to attack. Put one foot forward, and keep your knees bent slightly.” He does a weird bounce on his toes. “Keep your feet light on the ground.”

  I try to do as he’s telling me, keeping my knees bent, but I can’t bounce on my sore leg, so it’s a bit like a gargoyle doing a jig. “I feel stupid,” I say.

  “Try this. Step forward, first the front foot, then the back foot. Keep it together but do one before the other. Keep your knife hand out and your other hand ready to defend yourself, or switch knife hands.”

  I try to move forward like he shows me and keep my eye on the knife, but I can’t put as much weight on my back foot and I’m pretty convinced look like a lunatic.

  “Try to attack a tree.”

  I move forward like he’s shown me and make a stab at the tree. My leg gives a painful twinge, and I only just manage to keep in the groan of pain. I don’t want Blade to know how sore my leg is, or he’ll make us finish up.

  “Remember to keep yourself side on if you can. Don’t show your full chest to your opponent.”

  I keep working on the tree, lumbering awkwardly forward and back, trying to listen to the heckling—couched as advice—from Blade. Sometimes he moves in to make changes to the way I’m holding my arm or where the knife is going, but he’s always very professional. A part of me starts imagining ways to get him to change that professional stance and take more notice of me.

  “Hazel. You’re not paying attention. Concentrate on what you’re doing,” Blade barks.

  I press my lips together and lower myself into the stance he’s shown me. I focus on the tree like it’s an enemy demon and move forward, leaning heavily on my good leg. The demon buzzes inside me, pushing itself forward into my consciousness. A strange blue haze appears over my vision, and my world narrows to me and the wooden opponent in front of me.

  Suddenly I’m not the one in control.

  Stabbing out with the knife, I give a yell like it’s the most natural thing in the world, flick the blade to my other hand, change the grip and slam the knife down into the trunk of the tree like I’ve done it a thousand times before.

  I shiver. Maybe the demon has done it a thousand times before.

  Gasping for breath, I hobble backward, staring at the knife vibrating in the bark. The demon has disappeared back down into the depths inside me, leaving me feeling groggy and tired.

  “What the hell was that?” growls Blade as he appears beside me. “You could have broken my knife, shoving it into the tree like that.”

  Eyes wide, I watch as he carefully pulls out his magical—freaking irreplaceable family heirloom—knife from the tree, trying to make sure it doesn’t harm the blade.

  I did that. I could have broken his knife. “I’m so sorry. It just took over.”

  “What took over?”

  I hesitate a breath before answering. “The demon inside me. I think it knows how to use a knife.”

  4

  “We’re going home,” says Blade, his expression grim. “I can’t have you on a mission if you’re not in control.”

  “I don’t think it would do anything to harm me,” I say, my throat suddenly dry. “Or you,” I add. But I’m not entirely convinced. Is this the beginning? Is this how it starts when demons take over?

  “I don’t trust a demon to be making decisions instead of you. I need to know you’re in control of yourself the whole time.”

  “I’m in control,” I say, hoping he doesn’t spot the lie. The irony that I’m now arguing to be allowed to go into this situation doesn’t pass me by. But I don’t want Blade to start thinking that I’m under the control of the demon. The next step after that is him putting a knife in my chest. Suddenly the demons don’t seem so bad. “I’m fine.”

  “Then what just happened?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “It knew what to do, so it helped me along. I was in charge. It couldn’t do anything I didn’t want it to.” My hand is glowing blue, making my words sound like a lie. I hold my breath like Damien taught me. I don’t want Blade to think I can’t handle it.

  Blade steps closer to me. “You better be telling me the truth. I can’t take you into a potentially dangerous situation if you’re not the one in charge.”

  “I’m good. I can do this.” I had to let my breath out to speak, and I’m glowing again. I put my hands in my back pockets. “You don’t trust me? You don’t think I’ll be able to handle myself?”

  Blade lets out a slow breath, considering his answer. “You’re new to this, Hazel. It’s not about trust. It’s about training. You’ve been a SIG agent for all of five minutes, and now we’re checking out a demon infestation. It’s just a bit fast, that’s all.”

  “You’re being overprotective, Blade. If Damien thinks I can handle it, I can handle it.” I’m not sure about that at all, but some part of me wants to prove to Blade that I can take care of myself. All I can hope for is that we don’t meet any demons today.

  He doesn’t say anything, just gives me a glare, looks pointedly down at my still glowing hand, then turns and strides off the way we came in. I hobble over to my crutches, put them under my arms, and follow him, trying not to be too annoyed that he’s acting like this. He’s right, after all. If the demon takes over, he shouldn’t trust me. I hold my breath again, trying to get rid of the betraying glow on my hand.

  I’m concentrating so hard on the glow that I don’t notice the demon straight away. Blade is so focused on storming away from me, he doesn’t see it either. It’s off to one side of the small path through the trees, and it’s heading straight for Blade.

  I open my mouth, planning to sing, and get rid of it myself. To prove to Blade that I can do it. Except the memory of what happened the last time I fought demons saturates my brain. My heart starts pounding as I remember the demons looming over me, so close their fetid breath brushed my cheek. They almost killed us. It was sheer dumb luck that nothing happened. And then I almost died anyway becau
se I couldn’t get them out of me again. Goose bumps rise up over my arms, and I swallow hard over my dry throat. I can’t do it. I can’t sing again. I can’t go through all of that.

  “Blade,” I croak urgently. “Demon.”

  He looks up, then back at me. I point in the direction of the demon on his left, which is now turning from a glowing blue shape into a more human-shaped form. This demon has what looks like melted metal draped all over it in strange globules.

  Blade doesn’t even say a word.

  He strides across to the demon, his knife at the ready. The demon roars and attacks, attempting to overwhelm Blade with its sheer size.

  I give a little squeak, my hands covering my mouth, but I needn’t have worried.

  Blade sidesteps the demon’s forward movement and almost casually lifts his hand to stab the demon in the side. The demon screams, a terrifying sound that seems to echo into the hills surrounding us. Then it dissolves to ash, particles floating to the ground around Blade. A glowing blue orb emerges and is sucked into the knife, which starts glowing so bright it hurts my eyes to look at it.

  Blade’s piercing green eyes seem to penetrate into my thoughts. “You could have destroyed it as easily as me.”

  “I thought you’d prefer to do it.”

  “You didn’t hide from them at my sister’s place.” He’s watching me closely, like a predator about to pounce.

  I narrow my eyes at him, determined to not let him see me flinch. “That was life or death. This was”—I gesture where the demon had been—“not.”

  “It could have possessed you. It could have killed you. Both of those reasons mean it’s always life or death when it comes to demons. You need to remember that if you’re going to survive longer than a week.”

  I shiver. It hits me for the first time that because I’m a chalice, I’m going to be constantly faced with demons for the rest of my life. My knees feel suddenly weak, and I’m glad I have crutches holding me up. Is this what it’s going to be like? Always afraid? I thought that once I knew more about the monsters that killed my parents, it would be better. That once I proved I wasn’t crazy, life would be so much easier.