The Coming Dark, page 12
But the rest of us could see the offensive takeover, the warped transformation, the red watery eyes, the growling, the fetid smell that rolled off him like spoiled meat in a hot summer sun. It was so disturbing that my stomach was churning, so I spent most of my time observing the necromancers instead of looking at the pacing demon. Nikki suddenly gripped her head like she was suffering from a searing pain, and the demon laughed. It was mocking, cruel, and the knot inside me tightened as I watched him spit at her.
There was a soft laugh next to me. I turned, and saw Brian shaking his head and grinning. “What a bastard. This is awesome.”
Yeah. Not so much. But I had never once gotten a warm and fuzzy vibe from Brian. He was a squat ball of testosterone with a short-guy complex, and while he’d let me see Abby, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a bit bloodthirsty.
“Has anything ever gone wrong during one of these?” I asked.
Brian rolled his eyes at me, which wasn’t helpful. Now I was worried and felt stupid. “Of course not. There’s sixty people in here. What could happen?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t. What the hell did I know? That was my biggest complaint at St. Michaels. Everyone seemed to assume that I knew way more than I really did. I knew nothing.
“Look, the demon digs Jessica.”
It would appear he did, if the offensive gestures he was sending in her direction where any indication. Not only was the idea that a demon was sticking his tongue through his fingers at my roommate seriously disgusting, it was even creepier when he grabbed the front of his pants.
I glanced around, wondering if a teacher was going to intervene. This kind of thing would not be allowed at Bay High. They had a fit if students got too close to each other at dances. This would have caused an administrative heart attack. But no one seemed inclined to stop it, and Jessica didn’t look even remotely disturbed. She spoke to him, but I was too far away to hear what she said.
The demon gave her his middle finger. She laughed then made the sign of the cross in front of him. Now it was his turn to grip his head and let out a groan, and I suspected it was a bit of retaliation for Nikki’s pain. It was an odd image, Jessica with her halo of golden curls, looking more devious than holy, and the demon looking anything but amused.
When his hand landed on his zipper, intention to yank it down clear, there was a murmur in the room, but Mr. Dorset appeared out of nowhere and held his palm out towards him and spoke. The guy’s head went back like he was being held around the neck, his hand falling off his fly.
The necromancers had darted backwards slightly, like that would prevent them from seeing anything if Mr. Dorset hadn’t gotten there in time. Brian snorted in amusement next to me.
I thought about what Darius had told me, how it felt for a demon to be out of Hell, among humans. This demon must be enjoying himself, despite the constraints. In a way, it probably heightened his pleasure to have all this focus on him, all this emotion and attention zeroed in on him. It seemed counter-productive to give the demon exactly what he wanted.
“You’re up.” Brian pointed to the front of the room. The necromancers were leaving, less orderly than the seers. They were whispering to each other, and stretching arms and rolling necks. “Let’s see if you’re worth the free ride you’re on here.”
Charming. Apparently my classmates were well aware of my charity status.
I ignored him, stepped over my backpack, and tried not to puke as I walked on shaky legs to the front of the room to face a demon again.
I didn’t want to look at him. It. Whatever it was. I didn’t know what we were supposed to do anyway, so I hung back, concentrating on my shoes, and the gym floor. Mr. Dorset was calling the exorcists up one by one and giving them instructions. There were eleven of us, and I was the only girl. I took a spot next to John, because I knew he was prepared.
We were supposed to practice controlling the exorcism, before it would be John’s turn to finish the job. A couple of guys stood in front of the demon and held their hands out and spoke in Latin, in strong, firm voices. He protested, hissing and spitting and thrashing. When it seemed like he would seize or convulse, they released him, and he settled back down into his body, allowing the next student a chance to practice.
Glancing back, I saw all the executioners watching us, some of them bending over and touching their ankles, stretching their arms and hamstrings. Did that mean they were going to be given the chance to fight the demon? Or was that in case we couldn’t control him?
There was no sign of Abby. I wondered if she was still in her room or if she had somehow managed to escape. But she couldn’t have, or Mr. Bradford would have come to me to see if I knew anything. So where was she? Wouldn’t they want her to see a demon in action?
“Matthews!”
I jumped and swung my head back around. Mr. Dorset was giving me a big-time scowl. “Get over here.”
Swallowing hard, I forced my feet to carry me forward. Mr. Dorset stood next to me. I looked at him, instead of the demon.
But Dorset was having none of that. He gave me a nod. “I’ll guide you through it. Now face him.”
Damn. This was really happening. I was really going to have to do this. I thought of Axel on the roof, how I stood there, paralyzed while Chase died. I wasn’t prepared for that. But seeing this, those evil glowing orbs grinding into me, a black-red fluid oozing over some poor nameless man’s eyes, gave me strength.
The demon laughed and said, “Boo!” Then he cackled again, like he’d cracked himself up.
I didn’t even flinch, my hands tightening into fists.
“Start a basic exorcism,” Dorset told me.
But before I could speak, the demon’s eyes widened. “Oh, I know who you are.” The thought seemed to thrill him. “Everyone’s talking about you downstairs.”
He got the reaction he wanted. My hands started to shake and I started breathing faster, quick frantic pulls in and out. He knew who I was.
“Your mother was killed too, wasn’t she? Just like Bambi’s mom. Dead. Murdered.”
My face went hot.
“Run away, Bambi, and cry because the hunter killed your mother,” he said mockingly. “And you’re next.”
“Start the exorcism,” Dorset said, clearly unperturbed by the insults.
But I couldn’t remember a single word in Latin. My tongue felt frozen to the roof of my mouth. I was an epic failure. I couldn’t do anything. I hadn’t protected Chase and I couldn’t protect myself. He knew who I was…demons talked about me. They wanted to kill me…
The demon lifted his arm. He started humming, a weird little off-key song that sounded like a monk’s chant or something. It was eerie, setting my already tight nerves further on edge.
Then he took his left hand with the right and yanked it back so sharply we all heard his wrist snap as the bones broke. There was a gasp, his knees buckled, and I heard a heinous wail, like a mill siren ringing through the air. It took me ten seconds to realize it was me, screaming at the top of my lungs, my hair whipping around and standing up on end, my eyes rolling back in my head.
“Sancte Míchael Archángele, defénde nos in proélio contra nequítiam et insídias diáboli esto præsídium…”
I could hear the Latin coming from my mouth, could even understand it, was aware enough to know it was a different prayer than what I had used before, a request of St. Michael to help us cast out the devil, but I couldn’t control it. It rolled out of my mouth, free flowing, determined, my hands cast out, legs spread.
The room was noisy, students shuffling and talking and gasping as the demon cursed and groaned. I was aware of him calling me a string of vile names, but I couldn’t see him. It was all blackness behind my eyelids, a curtain that had dropped, maybe to protect me from what I might see.
“And do thou, O prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.”
“Liana, stop!” Dorset was yelling at me, but I couldn’t stop. I knew it was John’s trial, his job to finish off this demon, but I couldn’t make the words turn off. They were like a faucet on high, blasting out, splashing all over me and the demon in front.
I stepped forward, wanting closer to him, wanting to show him that I wasn’t afraid, even though I was. Wanting him to take the message back to Hell that I would fight back.
He smelled like a musty basement, like wet dirt, like a cat’s litter box mixed with mold. I breathed through my mouth and tried to fight the nausea. It was never more clear to me that what he, what they were, was unnatural. Demons didn’t belong among humans and I was going to send him back.
Disapproval laced my teacher’s voice. “You need to stop now.”
The room, the people around me felt surreal, remote. My own breathing and that of the demon were loud, Mr. Dorset’s admonishments far off and slow, like an echo in slow motion. Someone touched my arm, but it barely registered. The sickly sour smell of the demon clogged my nostrils, my eyes locked with his. The voice swirled around me again as he laughed, coming from the man’s body but also from behind me and to the side, above me and down by my ankles.
I wanted out of the murkiness, out of this place I didn’t understand, where the real world took a huge step back and this other world I didn’t understand took center stage. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second to regroup, to try to own the power of the words, to picture the demon leaving the man, picture me anywhere but here. Stop myself. Let John do it.
“Liana, no! Open your eyes!”
Too late, I realized the demon was reaching for me. There was a deep wet growl from in front of me. I opened my eyes and would have screamed except the air was knocked out of my lungs as the man hit me in the chest with his shoulder. We went down inside the circle, my arms scrambling to block him, my hysteria making me kick out and thrash as his stench overwhelmed me, saliva smearing on my hands as I grabbed at his chin to hold him off, the restraints he’d broken slapping me in the cheek.
There were words coming out of my mouth, but they were weak and garbled and I was losing the pattern of the exorcism, or at least I thought I was…I wasn’t really sure what was happening other than I wanted this thing off of me immediately, if not sooner.
His face was close to mine, so close I could feel his hot breath, see the spittle in the corner of his mouth, smell that rancid rotting flesh. I went still, the horror replacing the panic, fear freezing me as his red eyes locked with mine. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. He was dragging me into the darkness of his mesmerizing eyes, his mouth opening to suck me and my soul out and into him…
All sound stopped, all sensation disappeared, the pain in my hip from falling disappearing. There was neither cold nor hot, light nor dark, nothing but me and the demon floating in a vast emptiness that felt like every sorrow, every misery that had ever existed or felt or seen was housed inside it. The demon’s eyes widened in surprise and while I couldn’t hear him, I could see his lips moving, hear the whispers all around me.
Bambi, he called, as we fell together into nothing, like a dream…a nightmare, nothing but pain and blood and silent screams, Darius behind him, his head shaking violently, his eyes wide with horror.
A chill wracked my body, a sharp breeze passing over my face, unclogging my nostrils with clearer air, and I felt myself sliding down to the floor, like an accordion collapsing in on itself.
I was on the ground and Dorset was over me, staring at me, a deep frown drawing his scar up into his hairline. “Get up and don’t say a word,” he told me urgently. “You saw nothing, do you understand?”
I nodded, even though I didn’t. When I rose to my feet, I saw John was being put through drills by the Latin teacher for his trial, but no one was watching him.
They were all staring at me.
Chapter Fifteen
Who I Am
My hands were shaking, my nose running, my armpits sweaty beneath my blazer, but I forced myself to stand up straight, Dorset’s hand on my elbow. Curious eyes burned into me from every direction and I met Jessica’s concerned gaze as I walked away from the demon. I could still feel his hands on me, his body, hear his thoughts, and feel that deep dark well of nothing that he had pulled me into.
Suddenly, I knew I was going to get sick. I jerked free of Dorset and pushed hard on the auditorium doors. Right outside was a trash can and I threw up into it, shuddering with each heave. It wasn’t shock like when I’d thrown up when Chase died. It was like an expulsion of what I had just touched. I had to get it out of him.
“Eew,” I heard a girl say with a snicker behind me. “God, she’s such a freak.”
I stood up. “Shut up,” I told her, glaring and baring my teeth like a rabid dog. I had a demon after me, Chase was dead, and I had just gotten sucked into what I suddenly thought might be Hell. I did not need teenage popularity bullshit on top of it.
“Holy shit.” She grabbed her friend and her backpack and scurried off.
Dorset touched my arm and murmured, “Easy, Liana, come on. Down to my classroom. We need to talk.”
He didn’t waste any time when we walked into the room, locking the door behind him and asking, “What did you see in there?”
“I don’t know,” I told him truthfully.
His eyes narrowed and he paced in front of his blackboard. “So you never knew your father?”
“No. What does he have to do with anything?”
But I knew. I thought about the fact that Darius claimed to know him. I thought about Axel’s personal vengeance against my mother and I. I thought about being sucked into that void of nothing, Darius appearing to warn me off. “My dad’s a hunter, isn’t he? He pissed off Axel.”
“When I touched you, Liana, I saw what you saw. That was Hell, do you understand? I’ve never seen Hell. You just don’t get to see Hell for no reason.” His face was white, his scar stark purple against his leeched skin. He was super agitated and I wasn’t sure why.
“Okay. Do you want to see Hell? Because it didn’t seem like a place I’d want to hang out.”
He glanced over at the locked door, like someone was going to hear. “Axel has never targeted a single human before. He goes for big dramatic gestures…crashing planes, fires, school shootings. The fact that he was here, for you, it makes me wonder.”
My heart started to race. Dorset was scaring me, and I wasn’t sure why. “He clearly hated my father.”
“Yes, but why? No one knows who your father was. What if…” He glanced at the door again. “What if he was a demon?”
“What?” My jaw dropped. “That’s impossible! I would know if I was…that.” Demon spawn. A devil child. I shuddered, repulsed by the very idea.
“It’s definitely possible. It would explain what I just saw in there.” His eyes were wide, a little scared. “Don’t say anything to anyone about this.”
As if. “Of course not! It’s not possible.”
“We need to find your father. Is there anyone who knows where he is?”
Darius.
“No,” I lied.
“What about Greg Bradford? He knew your mother. They dated in high school.”
That was news to me. Now I was really pissed at Mr. Bradford. He probably had pictures of her, notes from her…at the very least memories he could have shared. “He told me no one knew who my dad was. That my mother hid his identity.”
“Maybe for good reason.”
Dorset and I stared at each other for a long minute. “It can’t be true.”
“There’s ways to prove it, but they would draw attention to us and we don’t want anyone to know.”
“Why?” It didn’t seem like a good thing to go around telling people I might be half-demon, but I wanted to hear straight out what was making Dorset look so grim.
“Because there are hunters who will want to kill you.”
That’s what I thought.
I wrapped my arms around me and hugged myself.
It seemed everyone wanted me dead.
Sitting on my bed, back against the wall, I stared down at my sketchbook, wanting to draw, but my mind too muddled, fingers too shaky. The picture of my parents with me was still inside the sheets and I avoided it, not wanting to see my father’s eyes. Not wanting to consider the possibility.
When Darius came in the window, I just stared up at him, tears springing up in my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, but his movements were nervous, his eyes focusing on my sketchbook, not me. His hair fell across his eyes so I couldn’t see them clearly and his fingers drummed on his thigh.
“What happened today?” I asked him. “Why did I see you when I touched that guy?”
“What are you talking about?” He still wasn’t making eye contact.
“For a demon, you’re a really crappy liar.”
Darius shrugged and sat down next to me, drawing his knees up alongside mine. “My strong suit has been more willful rebellion.”
“So be rebellious,” I said, turning to him. “Tell me the truth. That’s rebellious for a demon. What did I see?”
He sighed. “Hell. I didn’t have to show myself to you, but I wanted to warn you, I wanted to make sure you left. I didn’t want to risk you getting pulled in, stuck. That’s what they all want.”
“Who?”
“The demons. They want you because you can move easily between both worlds. It’s not actually an easy thing for demons to be on earth. You have to earn credits, so to speak, to get out. But you…you have the potential to be a portal.”
I shuddered. I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but I didn’t like the sound of it.
“Axel doesn’t want you dead, he wants you to join his side, the army of Satan.”
“You told me he wants me dead.”
He sighed. “I lied. Demons lie. You said it yourself. But I said it to protect you, so you’d stay away from him.”
