Eighth Note (Fire Ballad Book 1)

by Kimberly Adams

  He stumbled backwards with wide eyes, his hand gripping the doorjamb for support.

  “Come here, child,” he finally crooned, holding his arms out for me, and I gave Cole a troubled, sideways glance. “What happened to her?” His expression shot to Cole’s face, accusing.

  “You’ve been watching the news?”

  “I don’t watch the news,” he grumbled, pulling me into his arms and ushering us both inside. “But I know that something is infecting this world. I can feel it.”

  The smell of peppermint reminded me of my Grandpa Cam, and I caught a whiff of cherry tobacco. A plump woman with graying hair appeared in the front hall, and Kellan waved her toward another area of the house. “Tea. Chamomile for the child.”

  “I’m twenty years old,” I protested his words. He continued hugging me to his side, leading me toward an ancient parlor. The couch was a green, crushed velvet, and several throw blankets littered the cushions.

  “A child,” he concurred once more, settling beside me. Admittedly, something about him was comforting. His presence reminded me of my mother’s- calm, intelligent, and affectionate. I sighed tiredly, allowing him to dote on me.

  “Kellan, this is Eva Reed. I asked her to help me. There’s a singer- her name was Nina Fayette- who-…,”

  “-… died in her studio. Killed herself. Satan’s work there,” he rushed, tucking a burnt-orange throw over my shoulders. As I raised my hand to cough into my elbow, Kellen gripped my wrist, staring into my palm.

  I felt like I owed him an explanation for the symbols. “They just appeared. I looked the mark up on Google.”

  “Don’t draw his attention.” He shook his head. “No more internet. You’re acknowledging that you do not understand, and you’re opening your mind to learn lies.”

  “What is this?” I demanded, coughing again. I scratched at my palm, irritated. “What is happening to me?”

  He touched my wedding band, turning to Cole. “She is your wife?”

  “No,” he leaned forward in the adjacent armchair. “A friend.”

  “Yes.” He nodded, gripping my hand in his. His eyes bored into mine, and I blanched. “Someone worries for her. A man. A king,” he added, almost confused.

  “My husband, Will.” I tilted my face to the side. “Are you a medium?”

  He nodded once. “I’ve been called worse.”

  “Then you believe in other worldly things?”

  “Yes, of course, I believe in the truth,” he hurried.

  I let my magic pass over my eyes, and he drew in his breath as I was sure my green gaze turned to amber. “I possess magic. A lot of magic. I was born because of magic.”

  Kellan sat back, lifting both his hands to cup the sides of my face. “He wants you then.”

  “Who wants her?” Cole demanded.

  The woman arrived at that moment with three teacups on a round serving tray. Kellan thanked her under his breath, and I noted that he called her Beatrice before he took a shaking sip of the hot liquid. “Eva, what have you experienced?”

  I took a deep breath, telling him about Nina’s death, the studio, and listening to the song. When I would break into coughing jags, Cole would cut me off and order me to take a drink. The chamomile tea was soothing to my throat, and I welcomed the heat.

  “Before you came here, but after you’d met Nina at that restaurant. Did you experience anything strange?”

  I sat back, tracing my fingers over my palms. “Well… the night Nina died, I was in my bathroom, and the bottom of my bathtub kind of… opened up. And I could see right through it. It happened again in the cabin, and Cole saw it that time. It was scary, like… hell. Weird. Not the pictures of hell that I’ve seen in books and movies. Something different.”

  “You didn’t tell me that,” Cole accused, and I shrugged.

  “I forgot. I thought I was… seeing things? Oh, wow, I sound like an idiot.”

  Kellan’s grave expression unnerved me. “The mind protects itself from horrors that it cannot understand. Traumatic scenes and events are often dealt with in alternative ways. You found what you saw in the bathroom insignificant, so perhaps you’ve dealt with far worse things in your lifetime.”

  “There was a king,” I answered, gripping the teacup. “In another world. My husband’s father. He was evil. He killed me… throughout seven lifetimes. I killed him a year and a half ago.”

  “Has this king haunted you?”

  I looked at Cole, remembering my dream from the motel. “Last night, I thought Cole was in the bathroom with me. But when I looked in the mirror, it was Troy. He said that I belonged in hell, and he’d make me his queen.”

  The old house made a sequence of cracking noises, and I cursed myself for jolting and spilling the tea on the table. Kellan waved my hand away, silently admonishing me for worrying about the small stain.

  “I will tell you what I know,” he began, leaning back in the couch. “And that is all I can do. I can’t help you. But I can tell you the truth, and I pray that you can use this knowledge to save yourselves.”

  Ourselves? Plural? Cole wasn’t in danger, I was the one who listened to the fucking song. But whatever.

  “I believe that you’re dealing with a demon. A demon has a job. A purpose. It will often appear as someone you know or love, or someone you feel very strongly about… even if that emotion is pure hatred. However, their appearance will be marred. Deformed.”

  “Troy was missing an eye,” I admitted, shuddering at the memory of him standing over my shoulder.

  Kellan nodded solemnly. “Eva, do you believe in God?”

  I hesitated, looking to Cole and then back to Kellan. My mother’s family was Catholic, and my Grandpa Cam had taught me many Bible stories when I was younger. My parents never discouraged me from learning, and my dad made sure that he exposed me to every other religion in the world, reminding me that I needed to always keep my mind open.

  “I believe in truth. In reincarnation. That God created the universe… but I know that there is more than one universe.”

  “You struggle.” He concluded, sighing deeply. “Your curiosity and need for certainty, for validation, is clear.”

  Indignant, I sat back, setting my cup to the table. “Yes, I believe in God. Beyond that, things are sketchy.”

  He smiled, a wayward grin, nodding. “Yes, yes. A magical skeptic. A reincarnated soul with doubts. You are a prime target for this demon.”

  “Please go on,” Cole urged, sensing that my anger was flaring.

  “During creation, God made angels. Angels are inhuman. Their sole purpose is to do His will. God did not create them in His image, but gave them freewill. Their true nature is… a mystery. For mortals.”

  He met Cole’s eyes, and I wondered how much about immortality he knew. If Kellan knew that Cole was immortal, I guessed that he suspected that I was, too.

  “When God created humans, He not only made them in His image, but also gave them freewill. He placed Man in greater importance in the world than Angels. Some angels were angry. There was a rebellion, and two groups of angels formed- those who obeyed God, and those who rebelled.”

  “A war?” I clarified. The older man nodded.

  “Not with weapons. Not a war we would understand. A war of words. Philosophical arguments.”

  “Whoo-hoo. Exciting.” I coughed again, taking another sip of my tea.

  “The rebellious angels lost. As punishment, they were cast down to Earth. And these are demons.”

  “What do they want?” Cole urged, turning his cup slowly.

  Kellan shook his head, defeated. “They hate God, and us. Mankind. They work only to further their cause, whatever it may be. Often they make deals with humans, agreements, when it suits their needs. They are very persuasive.”

  “Who is Murmur?” I asked, my fatigue growing by the minute. “I read a little about him. This is his symbol.”

  “Murmur is a demon, not unlike other demons. He destroys in the name of his ally in hel
l. As Cole will tell you, most poltergeists and ghosts have no purpose for their haunting; usually, they are simply territorial, or are stuck between worlds. Demons have purpose. They have an ultimate objective, and they will philosophize, swindle, and coerce with all of their power. They prey on humans and their freewill, using it against them as they ultimately make their own choices.”

  “The song.” I thought of the two-hundred and twenty-four YouTube views, and all the people who were losing their lives. Each of them had chosen to listen, to press play, to feed their own morbid curiosity.

  Just as I had chosen to listen.

  “How do you fight this demon?” Cole’s voice cut through the silence.

  Kellan looked down at my palms. “Eva, you knowingly listened to this song. You, unlike the internet population, knew the consequences, just as the doctors that you described did. If these people hadn’t killed themselves- if they’d have survived- this demon would have traveled with them throughout their lives. Once invited by you, it is nearly impossible to make them leave.”

  “Um, what about exorcists? Crucifixes? Holy water?” I listed, bursting to my feet. “What, is all that just Hollywood bullshit?”

  “Those deities will not protect an immortal, Eva. Which I have to assume that you are. Immortality is something this demon already has. An immortal human host… with magical abilities? You are a prize to him.”

  “So he was looking for me all along?” I choked, digging at my palms. “Why? I haven’t… done anything…,”

  “There are weaknesses- sins- that draw his attention. They open you to possession, and make you vulnerable. If you know anything of the Bible or culture, well then… you know what those sins are.”

  I held my breath, thinking back to the castle.

  The men that I’d killed.

  “No,” I laughed, sardonic, throwing the blanket to the couch. “I’m a warrior. I killed to protect my family, my cause. We were at war!”

  “Pride… greed… lust,” Kellan shook his head, rising to his feet as well. “It doesn’t matter what has made you susceptible to him. He’s made his mark. He wants you.”

  “So that’s just it? We can’t fight it? This fuckin’ demon takes her over and we’re all fucked?” Cole’s accent grew heavier with each angry word, and Kellan narrowed his eyes.

  “I told you I’d give you information, not solutions.”

  “You owe me, Kellan! You owe me,” he glared, seething. He pointed in my direction without turning his head from Kellan. “I will save her.”

  The graying man moistened his lips, mumbling something before clearing his throat. “Find the deal that was struck. There is often a sacrifice, and always a bargain, an agreement. Someone serves this demon. Find this person, and you find your answer. If he breaks his part of the bargain, the demon takes him, instead.”

  I was already running to the front door.

  Waiting inside Mack, I jerked as Cole dropped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. “Come on, we’ll get back to Walton and talk to Monroe. Then we’re going to Fayette’s house again. We need to know what kind of satanic bullshit his daughter was into.”

  “If she conjured this demon, then why did it kill her? Kellan said that all she had to do was keep her end of the bargain. Was this about fame?” I coughed into my elbow, and tried desperately to piece my weary thoughts together.

  Cole turned to me, reaching for my cheek. His thumb brushed over the skin below my eyes gently, his brows narrowed in concern. “We’re gonna find out. Buckle,” he ordered.

  I obeyed, swallowing hard and scratching at my palms.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The video of the journalist’s deaths were anti-climatic.

  A man and a woman, both listening to the song on a shared laptop. The woman began coughing before the man. The man stood up, picked up the chair that he’d been sitting in, and hurled it through the window. The woman just watched him climb to the ledge and leap from the window. Not seconds later, she put two shaking feet on the very same ledge and plummeted to her own death.

  “One hundred and thirty,” Monroe interrupted, closing out the window on his PC. “Just confirmed. The ones who’ve turned themselves into police are dying of cardiac arrest, aneurisms, asphyxiation… the last one held his own breath until his heart stopped.”

  “In succession?” I asked, sitting back in the chair and leaning into Cole.

  “Yes. You were right. In the order of who listened. Some are dying simultaneously. They were in two separate parts of the country, listening at the exact same time. And we’re still searching for a serial killer,” the detective scoffed, shaking his head and tossing an overstuffed, manila folder to the desktop. “Now tell me how this is going to end with this young lady right here.”

  Cole leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he lowered his voice. “I can’t tell you anything yet. We’re going to the Fayette’s house now, and hopefully we’ll have some answers for you tonight. I’ll call you.”

  “Damnit, Cole. It’s only a matter of time before this song leaks onto the web again. I know this isn’t your job, but you’re all I’ve got right now.”

  “It can leak. People can listen. It doesn’t matter anymore. It stops with me,” I stood up, adjusting my purse strap. “Come on, Cole.”

  Monroe shook his head, twirling a pen between his fingertips. “She looks like hell, man. She needs some rest.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I snapped, inevitably glancing at my reflection in the window of the detective’s door. My eyes were sunken with giant shadows smudged beneath each one, and I could see my cheek bones jutting out a little too sharply. It’s been three days. Could I have really lost enough weight for my face to look like this?

  “You know what I mean, Eva. I’m worried about what I’ve brought you into.” Monroe answered gently.

  “I’ll live.”

  Back in the car, Cole pulled onto the main road toward the Fayette’s while I tried for Will again. He had to have been seeing my missed calls, but he hadn’t returned one of them. Anger flooded through me, and I wanted to beat on the dashboard and hurl my phone out the window.

  “You must’ve really pissed him off, honey. It’s only been a few hours. Give him some time, he’ll call you back.”

  “It’s one thing to be pissed off at me, but to ignore my calls so I can’t even talk to Perry? When I see him, I’m going to kick his ass.”

  “You look too weak to kick anyone’s ass right now. After the Fayette’s, you’re taking a nap, okay?”

  “We don’t have time for naps! Get me some coffee, or Red Bull, and stop treating me like I’m a fucking toddler! I’m more powerful than any of these humans, than you, than this goddamn demon, and I have proved my power over and over again. If this thing takes over my mind, Cole, I might not just try to kill myself. I could destroy everything. Everyone. I could set people on fire. Humans. Fuck!”

  “Eva, calm the hell down,” he hit the brakes at the stoplight, the sarcastic tone in his voice almost firing me up all over again. “I’m not doubting your powers. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I also know that when you’re sick, your powers are weak. When you were pregnant with Perry, you couldn’t use magic at all. I need you strong. You listened to that song. You did exactly what you promised Will you wouldn’t do. You need to prepare yourself for what’s coming. Something’s coming, kid, and it’s gonna be fuckin’ ugly.”

  The light turned from red to green, and Cole remained still, staring at me.

  After a moment, he started forward.

  I waved my hand, slamming the brake to the floor, jerking us both forward in our seats.

  “Eva, what the…,”

  A tow truck flew through the intersection across from us, the driver busy on his phone and completely ignoring the red light he had.

  We both stared after it, unable to speak. The thing would have flattened us. That giant dually versus his little Chevelle, and we’d have been killed on impact. And when they
took our bodies to the morgue and we woke up, that would have been the end of our secret.

  “How… did you know?” He turned to me, his thumb brushing over my top lip. When he pulled his hand away, blood covered his finger. “Your nose is bleeding.”

  “I could feel it happening. I could feel death coming,” I managed, my words coming in short, staccato breaths. “I’ve never felt that before.”

  “Well… thanks,” he carefully looked both ways twice before proceeding through the green light. “Mack wouldn’t have survived that one.”

  I sniffed, accepting the McDonald’s napkin as he held it out to me and dabbed at the blood trickling from my nose. “What a shame that would have been.”

  He shot me an uneven grin.

  The Fayette’s mansion was even more impressive in the daytime, and we were met at the door by the same short Italian man that had shown us in before. “Mr. and Mrs. Fayette are out golfing for the day. They want you to know that you’re welcome to every area of the house, and invite you to stay for lunch before you leave.”

  So hospitable, I wanted to snipe, glad the man couldn’t hear my thoughts. Golfing? Really?

  “Nina lived at home?” I began, and the man asked Cole to call him Bradley before ushering us into the house.

  “She did. Her childhood room is upstairs, but she has an apartment behind the house, near the pool.” Bradley glanced at his watch. “Please just ask any of the help for assistance. I’ll be in my office near the dining room.”

  Cole nodded and thanked him, and I was already half-way up the stairs. “Golfing,” Cole admonished, tucking his arm around my waist as we climbed the stairs. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” I gingerly touched the handle of the first door to our right, trying for the knob. Locked. “Hmn. So much for being welcome to every area of the house.”

  “This one’s open. This has got to be her room.” Cole called, and I met him in the doorway just down the hall.

  I broke into another coughing fit, and he rubbed my back in circles again, waiting for me to catch my breath. Waving my hand, I ignored the light switch and sent the bedroom into full illumination.