by KC Bellinger
“Dead.”
“Oh, that is a shame.” Curtis Strong seemed genuinely sorry, and maybe he was. He did want to breed with her to produce more Hours, after all.
“We heard she caught Pulduck,” Amelia chimed in. “Such a shame. He was a powerful demon.” She rubbed her nose as if she was about to sneeze. “Any ideas where he is?”
“No,” I lied.
At the mention of Pulduck, two demons sauntered into the room. They were both in form-fitting black like they were going to go for a run. I realized the little gesture Amelia made was their signal to join us.
The front door was closed now, and the female demon stood close behind me. I felt her breath on my neck and I turned to face her. “You need to back the fuck up,” I demanded.
She growled and walked in front of me. Her mouth was pursed and the ruby red lips that filled my memories flickered into a smile. “Such dirty language from a pretty girl,” the female demon hissed. Angrily, she tossed her mousy-brown ponytail over her shoulder.
“Simone, Locke, give her space,” Curtis commanded.
I turned to my left and found the male demon was also heavy on my heels. Locke was a shorter demon with high cheekbones and sharp features, but there was nothing feminine about him.
“Look, just tell me what you want to know so I can go.” I sighed. I didn’t want to play demon games.
“Who said anything about you going?” Amelia’s face split into a terrifying grimace and then she cackled like an evil witch. “I’m kidding, Whitney. Don’t look so hateful.” She waved her hands around and laughed like she’d said something funny.
I backed up towards the door so no one could fit between me and it. “What do you want?” I sneered.
“We want others like you and Camille,” Amelia said frankly.
“Why?”
“Why not? If we have access to your powers, it will assist us in future endeavors.”
“What would you do with it?”
“Have you been downtown?” Amelia asked.
I nodded.
“Then you can see the progress of redeveloping the city. It has been slow, but we are finally improving lives.”
Images of the naked girls and lost families floated to my mind. “It doesn’t look like you are doing much for the poor.”
Amelia shrugged. “One class at a time, I suppose. We’ll get there, eventually.”
“When?”
“That depends on you. If you help us, we can help them.” Amelia sat down on the sofa and her eyes directed me to a chair next to hers. “Sit and we’ll discuss it.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. I don’t help demons nor do I hinder them. I ask that they do the same for me,” I proclaimed. “I’ve never killed a demon and I don’t intend to. So, go on with your weird lives in this creepy house. I’m leaving. Jaiten, let’s go.”
“Grab her!” Amelia shouted as I turned the door handle. “Bring her to me.”
Locke and Simone collected me and deposited me at Amelia’s feet. Amelia scooted to the edge of the floral-print couch and collected my face in her hands. Everything was quiet for a moment. I opened my senses to feel if anyone else was in the house—anybody I needed to be worried about. I failed miserably. The walls were too thick and protected by some spell to feel anything. I pushed beyond the magic and a faint scratch echoed below us. It was so far away it could’ve been the scatter of mice, but it seemed more like a distress signal.
“She’s seen him,” she sneered, staring deep into my eyes. She had my arm pinned firmly behind my back and her butterscotch lips were nearly touching mine.
“How?” Jaiten looked confused. “I’ve been with her since we arrived in Timber Grove.” He bit his fingernail in contemplation. “I didn’t go to the campus with her and, of course, I can’t pass into the cathedral grounds. He must be there.” Jaiten peered into my eyes. “She doesn’t look different to me. Are you sure she has seen him?”
“Look at the black mark above her left iris. That’s the spot of recognition.”
Everyone took their turn looking into my eyes.
“Who is he, Hour?” I shook my head because I had no clue what she was asking.
She yanked hard on my arm painfully. “Who is your angel?”
“I haven’t seen an angel since I came to Timber Grove,” I said truthfully.
“Liar,” Amelia hissed and cranked on my arm again. She was seconds away from breaking it.
I studied the front door from the sitting room. I’d be able to outrun the Strongs and possibly Locke and Simone, but I knew how fast Jaiten was. I needed a distraction.
A shadow sauntered outside the bay window and tapped lightly on the glass. Everyone froze.
“Go see what it is,” Amelia ordered the two demons. “Camille, search her mind and find her Angel,” Amelia cooed to her daughter.
Camille groaned and put down her doll. She walked toward me and placed her stubby fingers on my face. I closed my eyes and concentrated on nothing.
“She won’t let me in, Momma.”
“Try harder, baby.”
“I’m tired of trying to reach her, Momma, she won’t let me in.” The girl pouted and reached for the doll she’d discarded.
Her mother was faster and snatched the doll away.
“Fine, I’ll try again. Please don’t hurt my doll this time.” Camille replaced her hands on my cheeks and pried at my mind’s door.
Her mother stabbed her elbow into my kidney as she tightened her grip on my arm. I searched Jaiten’s face, wondering why he’d let this go so far. He had little to no remorse on his face and that alone made me give in.
The little girl struggled through my mind as she pondered a moment on my memories of the twins, Jasper and May. She smiled and then it faded fast. She jumped away before she could warn her mother about the new idea she stumbled upon in my head.
I reached for Amelia and flipped her over. Then, catapulting up, I stomped on her wide girth. My arms flew up to cover my face as I pummeled through the wooden door.
***
I stared back at the house from the protection of a leafless weeping willow. In the dark, its limbs moved as mine and the wind hid my breath from keen ears. Panting, I searched the turrets and balconies for movement and sound. I closed my eyes and concentrated on slowing down my heart rate and thinking of a way back to the church without being followed.
Up ahead, I heard a car door slam followed by another.
I slid further into the cloak, but I couldn’t make myself run. I dropped the hood and looked to the night sky. If I stared long enough, my eyes would adjust, and I would see as clearly as day.
A turn of an engine hastened my process, and my heart thumped faster in my chest.
If I really had seen my angel, now would be a good time for him to show up. Images of Father Bucheli came to mind. It had to be him because who else had I met without Jaiten? Justin or Julia—no, I didn’t think it was either of them.
A rustle of leaves behind me alerted my tensed nerves, but I was too slow.
A large hand frantically covered my mouth as I screamed needlessly into warm flesh.
“Shh.”
I stopped just in time to see two headlights beaming down the road in front of me.
“I’m going to cover your face now. If they see your eyes, they will find you,” the voice was deep and dreamy, but I couldn’t place his face with the hushed tone.
His hand, which was pressed firmly against my lips, did not move but shifted, so his other hand was free to cover my head. The lights swerved in and out of the trees. I could hear Jaiten call my name. My body vaulted forward, wanting to run to him.
“No,” the stranger’s voice warned.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I bit my tongue to keep them from falling. I would not cry for him. I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my head with the salty air. My mouth, still held captive by the same five fingers, opened. I caught the scent of a demon lingering beneath my nose, but there was an oddly fa
miliar smell tainted with it. I closed my eyes and tried to locate the scent, but the only thing my mind saw was myself. I saw my image in a mirror, the reflection of eyes, my eyes, over and over again.
The hands dropped, freeing me to turn around and face my companion. His silhouette in the night was unmistakable. From the bulk of his silver-laden boots to the flow of the long coat flapping in the wind—it was him. His eyes were shaded by aviator sunglasses and his hair was tied back. I felt my face blush, and then I remembered the female demon at the concert.
I shook off the giddiness and glared at him. “What the Hell are you doing here?” my voice echoed in the thinning tree line.
“Don’t you ever learn?” The Protector, as he was introduced to me, slammed his hand across my face. “There are more of them.”
I stopped squirming as I listened.
He was staring at the house as it turned a ghoulish gray in the night. “Someone’s coming.” Beneath his long jacket, the demon pulled out a vile and tapped it on my head.
“Protector,” a voice quivered as a body inched closer to us. “Why are you here?”
“This is my territory, Simone; I have free access to my lands.”
The demon sauntered back, looking astounded. “Of course, but why outside?” Her gaze shot out around him. “Join us inside for a drink?”
“I prefer the company of myself and the wind at the moment, Simone. Please continue on your path, or am I in your way?”
“No, I thought I heard voices, that’s all.” Simone looked around a nearby tree. When she didn’t see me, she rummaged through a large bush.
“You did.” The Protector stood, waiting for the lesser demon to leave, but she didn’t.
“Did you see her?” Simone stopped searching and stared directly at me.
I brought my hands to my face but they weren’t there.
“Who?”
“A girl, in a cloak, running through the woods.” Simone’s hands fiddled nervously with the charm on her neck.
“Should I?” The Protector raised an eyebrow then smiled at me.
“Well,” she fumbled for words, “perhaps I should go back to the house.”
“Simone,” The Protector’s voice wrapped around the demon and pulled her back without moving her feet, “is there something you are hiding from me?”
Simone shook her head vigorously. The Protector roared with laughter, chilling the evening air. Simone was still.
“Come now, Simone, you really think I don’t know what you are up to?”
“You said we can keep the girl,” Simone whined, still unable to extend even a finger.
“The young girl, yes, but the new one …” He crept closer to Simone and whispered savagely in her ear, “Is mine.”
“Yes, sir.” She cringed as he threw her on the ground and released her limbs from his power.
“Tell the others.” He bowed to the leaf-covered demon scrambling to stand. “Have a good night.”
Simone left peacefully enough, but The Protector raised his hand when I opened my mouth. A sound smoother than the evening breeze rolled off the top of the trees. I felt it grab at the surrounding air. It missed me every time, grazing the willow branches I hid behind. It was the young Hour searching for me, but whatever magical abilities protected me from Simone worked on her, too.
“Okay, we are alone now,” The Protector announced.
“Who are you?” I asked.
He sighed and looked a bit irritated. I suppose he gets asked that a lot.
“Thank you for helping me,” I said, making a circle in the dirt with my shoe.
“You are most welcome.” He reached over and took my arm. “Let’s go.”
He buried my head in his chest, then covered my face with the hooded cloak. My feet dangled beneath me, no longer touching the ground. I tried to look up, but he had a firm grip on the hood.
Shortly, both of my feet touched the sandy beach and I was released from the muscular grip of my companion. It was still dark, but the moon’s reflection off the ocean lit up the sky. Waves licked the rocks and tickled the sand as they rolled backward only to be tossed forward by an unseen hand.
“At least tell me what I should call you,” I insisted, breaking the silence.
“You don’t like The Protector.” He rolled his face away from mine and snickered.
“Not really,” I admitted. “Why do people call you that?”
“You know, you really shouldn’t be so open about your feelings. People will use them against you,” he advised and then cleared his throat. “The Protector is my stage name, and since I protect what is mine, it stuck. But I have gone by other names as well.”
“Your real name, please,” I asked in a sickly sweet tone.
“It’s an old one. A name that died with the ancients, but you can call me Rhys.” He turned his head as if he were guarding it against the wind.
“Why do you not want your name said?”
“The more one knows of another, the weaker his opponent.”
“And am I not your opponent?”
“No.”
“So, why did you save me?”
“Why not?” He shrugged.
“You want me, don’t you?” the words came out light, but the meaning was real.
“Yes and no.” Rhys sighed. “We can’t discuss this now. You must return to the church and eventually to Jaiten.”
“Nope.” I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. “I’m done with him. He was going to hand me over to the Strongs.”
“He is a master demon, but he has his limits on what or who he can control. Besides, I need you to return to the house and talk to the Hour.” His mouth drooped, he seemed accustomed to the sadness he was expressing. Time had lined his face, not with wrinkles of age, but with doubt and disappointment. Rhys gathered my hands in his. His wrists started shaking and his hold tightened. “They have others who need your help.”
“Like who?”
“Others like me,” he admitted. Then he quickly added, “Otherworldly.” He dropped my hands and waved them in the air in a circling motion. A small wind funnel appeared and formed ice crystals at the opening. “Can you feel winter coming?” He blew the small funnel and the ice fell like shattered diamonds in the moonlight.
“Winter? But it’s May.” He was right. Last year, at this time, our gardens were full of colorful tulips and daffodils, but when we left there was still a layer of snow over their sprouting heads. “What do you mean?”
Rhys’s head dropped, and he seemed hopeless for the first time. “Guardians have gone missing.”
“Like Angels.” I prompted.
“Yes, like angels. These beings are being torn from their duties and held, tortured, and possibly destroyed … somewhere,” He said sullenly. He seemed hesitant to discuss it any further but continued, “There are four who guard the seasons, three disappeared a year ago. But a more urgent matter needs to be addressed.” Rhys glanced over his shoulder and sauntered closer to me.
His nearness weakened my knees and I was certain I’d end up in the sand face first.
“There are things that have gone missing, relics. As have some of their guardians.”
“And you think the Strongs have them?”
“I have searched for years, but I always end up back here.” Rhys’s eyes scanned the skyline till they landed on the Strongs’ house. It reigned high above town, overlooking the ocean. “They have to be there. I feel it,” he growled.
“I didn’t feel anybody in there, but the walls were thick with magic,” I thought out loud. “There were faint scratching sounds beneath me but it must have been rodents.” I searched Rhys’s face, but his focus was somewhere else. “What are they going to do with the guardians?”
“Destroy them. They have before, but I don’t know how or why.”
I felt selfish, but I had to know. “Why do they want me?”
“They have kidnapped Hours both Day and Night. I believe their intent is to capture al
l twelve Light Hours, so they can possess their power,” Rhyss’ voice turned sour. “They kill the Night Hours because they cannot reproduce.”
“Do you know what I am?” I braced myself for the truth.
“Yes.” His brow furrowed, causing his scars to look deep and painful. “You are an Hour of Night. They bear no visible mark except the dull aura of the full moon resting on their shoulders like a collar until they see their angel. Then a small cross appears in the eyes’ irises. You cannot have children, therefore, you were created only to serve your angel, your duty. Now they know, too, for you have seen your angel.”
“I’ve never had an angel, Rhys. Sorry. Maybe you are mistaken.”
Rhys flicked his glasses off his face. A scar ran across his right eyelid and through his temple. Forcefully, he picked me up and shoved his face into mine. “Look, dammit! Look at me! I am that Angel!”
I gasped, trying to flee his grip, but his mountainous arms wouldn’t budge. I was forced to stare deep into pits of obsidian—like Tresians’ dark eyes, but unlike Tresian, Rhys’s were troubled.
“I am not mistaken!” he roared in my face, then dropped me like a rag doll onto a bed of wet sand.
“Then where the Hell have you been?” I shot back at him, surprising myself as I tore after him. “How dare you leave me all alone up there?”
“You weren’t alone,” he sneered. “You had protection from other Hours and spirits and that damn demon. Nothing was going to hurt you!” Angrily, he kicked at the sand and hovered in the air for a moment before he dropped back down.
“All my life I didn’t know what I was and you thought that was okay because I had others watching over me? Fuck You!” I hollered at him and turned to leave.
I felt him gaining on me, and I bolted into a run. He was faster. His hands grazed my arms and he tackled me to the ground. We rolled into the gentle surf. Loose dirt and crushed shell tangled in our hair.
He yanked me up by a fist of my hair and pulled my face to his. “Never talk to me like that again,” he demanded, but his voice had softened. Drops of saltwater ran down his face like a lifetime of tears.
“Then don’t fucking ever leave me again.” I crunched my elbow into the pit of his stomach.
