Stalked by Demons

by Trudi Jaye

  I glare at them both. “Stop talking over me like I’m a toddler. What haven’t you had to do, Blade?”

  Blade glances at me, then at Damien, who nods once, sharply.

  “Demons are what’s left of supernaturals who haven’t moved on properly. Part of them is trying to stay in this world, for whatever reason,” Blade says slowly. “They’re mostly bundles of energy with some emotion thrown in.”

  I nod, waiting for him to carry on.

  “When demons possess humans, it’s relatively easy to get them out,” he continues. “They’re foreign to humans, so it’s not a big deal, and they can’t take hold properly. But when a super is possessed, the demon can take over. Easily.”

  “What happens when it takes over?” I ask, a shiver going down my body. I think I know the answer, and I don’t like it.

  Blade hesitates. “If the demon takes over, it’s for good. There’s no way to save the supernatural. We have to… eliminate the problem.”

  “Eliminate the problem?”

  Blade’s green eyes go flat. “They’re dangerous, Hazel. Once the demon is in full control, they create chaos. It’s like they’re high on being alive again. They have no impulse control. They kill innocent people without a second thought. We have to eradicate them.”

  “You kill them? People who’ve been possessed?” I ask, my body rigid with shock. I knew it was coming, but it’s still difficult to hear it out loud.

  “I do what has to be done,” says Blade, all emotion gone from his voice now. “Once a demon takes over a super, it’s a fast downhill spiral into carnage. The death of innocent people is always the next step.”

  21

  “So that’s why you’ve been hanging around? To kill me?” My head is spinning with the implications.

  “Of course not. You’re not reacting like a normal super would. It hasn’t taken over,” says Blade.

  “Would you kill me if the demon did take over?” I ask grimly. I can feel the demon spinning inside me, reacting to my agitation. It’s only on the periphery, like something I can see out of the corner of my eye. Could it really take me over?

  He hesitates. “I wouldn’t want to do it. But it wouldn’t be you anymore. When a demon takes over, possesses a supernatural, the person inside is essentially dead. It’s my duty to protect the supernatural community.”

  “Why didn’t you just kill me at Stanford? Why did you Taser me instead?”

  “I had to determine what had happened. I don’t just go around killing people without being very certain.” Blade is starting to get annoyed now, his green eyes flashing at me, daring me to accuse him of being dishonorable.

  I glance between him and Damien. “So that’s what’s going to happen to me?” I ask. “The demon is going to eventually take me over, and then Blade will kill me?” Even just saying the words is like a blow to my body I don’t think I can recover from. I’m trying to breathe normally, but my throat is too tight. The demon is buzzing and fizzing, trying to tell me something. I’m hoping it’s saying it would never try to take me over.

  Blade shakes his head. “You’re different. Being a chalice is protecting you somehow.”

  “For how long?”

  Blade stares at me, his eyes darkening. “I don’t know.”

  My heart constricts. The demon doesn’t feel malevolent. But that doesn’t mean I’m safe. It already took over my body once, there’s every chance it could do it again.

  And if it ever takes control again, Blade will kill me for it.

  There’s a heavy silence in the room. I don’t know what to say.

  “It might never happen,” says Damien quickly. “You have a connection to the demons that no one else does. Let’s not worry about it until it actually becomes a problem.”

  “Not worry that Blade is going to kill me at any moment?” I say, feeling slightly hysterical.

  “Being a chalice means you’re different,” says Damien reassuringly. “If it hasn’t taken you over by now, it probably can’t.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’re not the one on Blade’s hit list.”

  “I don’t have a hit list,” says Blade, clearly irritated.

  “What would you call it then?” I shoot back.

  “I’m not—”

  “Stop it, you two. We need to work together.” Damien is back to pacing up and down in front of the bed. He’s losing his Mr. Ordinary look, and taking on a demeanor I can only describe as “charismatic dictator.” I think his real personality is showing through.

  I clear my throat, trying to think clearly. There’s too much swirling around in my head, too many shocks. I need to get the hell out of here, except it’s my home so I can’t leave. “What else does being a chalice mean?”

  Damien runs one hand through his hair. “I honestly don’t know.”

  Something inside me snaps. I leap up from the bed and gesture wildly with one hand. “To sum up, you don’t actually know anything, except some dumb name, and what you think I might possibly be able to do, but you don’t know for sure,” I say. I can feel the demon egging me on like a cheering crowd at a football game. It’s strangely comforting.

  Damien raises his eyebrows at me. “It’s more information than you had before, isn’t it? Your kind is so rare, I’m surprised I’ve even heard of you.”

  “My kind? What the hell am I? I’m not even a normal super?”

  Damien watches me freak out for a moment, his eyes narrowed. “You’re definitely supernatural. Which means you’re not human. I don’t know how you fell through the cracks, or how you’ve survived for so long, but now we know about you, we can take care of you.”

  I shake my head, automatically rejecting his offer. “I don’t need help.” I’m so used to being independent, I can’t bear the thought of someone trying to “take care of me”.

  “Hazel, be sensible. We can help you out.”

  His voice is so reasonable it makes me feel like I’m being irrational. Would it be so terrible to sit back and relax while he took care of everything? I could give him all my worries. Make him sort out the demons attacking me. For the barest moment, I’m tempted. It’s tiring dealing with everything on my own all the time.

  I narrow my eyes, watching Damien carefully. He’s an expert at manipulating people and situations, I know that much instinctively. Since arriving at my apartment, he’s gone from being an ordinary and forgettable man on the street, to a highly persuasive and compelling father figure. It’s not an accident; he’s creating these personas on purpose. I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t even know him and I definitely can’t trust him. Especially because I’m pretty sure he’s not admitting everything he knows.

  I let out a breath. I can’t do it. I’d totally regret giving Damien Walker that kind of control over me.

  Damien takes a step closer to me. “Listen, Hazel, you can’t keep on as you are. You need protection. We can provide that.” His tone is kind, and I have to sternly remind myself why I can’t just let him have his way.

  Clearing my throat, I deliberately try to change the topic. “You said I could destroy demons.” Maybe I can destroy the demon inside me somehow? Test out my skills, and get rid of my possession problem at the same time?

  Immediately the little demon starts fizzing around in my stomach, and I get a feeling of panic and distress. If Blade weren’t set on killing me for being possessed, I might even feel a little guilty.

  Damien nods. “But I don’t know how. You don’t either. You need us.”

  “I don’t need anyone,” I say firmly. Part of me wants to look over at Blade. I could use someone like him, helping me fight demons. But adding extra people into my life just makes it more complicated—my current situation being a prime example. I know I can do this on my own. Now that I have a name for what I am and what I should be able to do, I can figure it out on my own.

  Damien glances back and forth between Blade and me, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. “We can provide you with whatever yo
u want. I can help you research what you are, run tests on your abilities,” he says.

  I shake my head. “I can do all that without you.”

  He looks at Blade and gestures toward me. “You tell her. She might listen to you.”

  Blade’s blazing green eyes land on mine, and I swallow hard. I can feel a connection buzzing between us. I don’t understand it, but somehow I feel like Blade knows what’s going through my head. “You do what you have to do,” he says quietly. “I’ll stick around whatever way you go.”

  I blink, unsure what to do with that answer. I say the first thing that comes into my head. “That sounds kind of like stalking.”

  Blade’s mouth twitches up slightly on one side. “You know what I mean.”

  I nod. “Great. Then it’s settled. You’ll all leave me alone, and we can go back to how it was.”

  Damien shakes his head. “You can’t ignore everything you’ve learned. And neither can I.”

  “I’m not going to ignore it,” I say stubbornly. “I just don’t need your help with it.” I have sudden visions of him poking his nose into my life, thinking he’s helping me.

  Damien comes to a halt in front of me. He’s clearly frustrated with my answers. “How about I get you a job?“ he says suddenly. “You can go on salary at the SIG and work for me. We can all work together to figure out what you are, and no one has to get hurt.”

  Every muscle in my body goes still. The demon inside me is jumping around, telling me to run. “Are you saying you’re going to hurt me if I don’t agree?” I ask carefully.

  Damien steps back, his eyebrows peaked in surprise. “No, of course not. I’m saying you’ll get hurt by a demon if you don’t accept my offer.” He raises his hands palm up toward me in a gesture of entreaty.

  I hesitate. Damien seems genuine. I glance beside me to Blade, but his impassive expression doesn’t give me anything to work with.

  And then I remember. In all the drama of finding out that demons are real, and that I’m actually a supernatural, I’d forgotten one small detail.

  There’s a reason I avoid people like Damien. Even if I wanted to accept his offer, I couldn’t. Damien doesn’t know about the murder charges or Ravenwood; he has no idea that I’m considered a dangerous criminally insane patient on the run. It will change everything if he finds out. He’ll have to hand me back over to the proper authorities, whether he wants to or not.

  “What does SIG stand for?” I ask to give myself more time to think. I sit down on the edge of the bed again, trying to figure out how I got into this mess.

  “Supernatural Intelligence Group. We monitor supernaturals around the US and make sure they don’t do anything they shouldn’t. We’re like the police but for supers.”

  “Police?” There’s no way I can accept a job from a government agency that’s considered the police for supers.

  “Sort of.” He clears his throat. “You’d be an unusual employee, like Blade. It’s mostly made up of partial supernaturals. Full humans can’t see supernaturals because of the spell web.”

  “The spell web?“ I frown, confused by yet another word I don’t know.

  “You’ve never heard—?” Damien breaks off. “I guess there’s no reason why you would have. Can you feel something lying over your senses, like it’s partially blocking them?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t even know what my supernatural senses are,” I say caustically.

  “Fair enough.” He takes an exasperated breath. “Well, it’s there. A protective spell layer over all of us.”

  “Humans, too?”

  He shakes his head. “Just supers. It draws on a percentage of our powers to provide the energy it needs to keep running, and then an organization called the Earthbound uses it to help keep the peace.” Damien has a carefully neutral expression on his face. I’m positive—as usual—there’s more he’s not telling me.

  “So there are two groups keeping the peace? Sounds confusing.” My head is starting to hurt, and I use one hand to massage my temple. Behind me Blade moves on the bed, and his leg settles against the base of my back. It’s unexpectedly comforting.

  “It can be.” Damien takes a step toward me. “We could use someone like you to help us. It would be of mutual benefit.”

  “How could I help you? I don’t know anything about my powers. I’m not even sure you’re not just making all this up, preying on a crazy person.” The words tumble out; I can’t stop them.

  “You’re not crazy,” interrupts Blade sharply.

  Glancing at Blade, I encounter his fierce green eyes yet again. I give him a half smile. I appreciate his words more than I can say.

  Damien keeps pacing across my bedroom like a caged lion frustrated by his cellmates. “Everything I’m telling you is the truth. I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay under the radar so long, but now that you know what’s out there, you can’t keep hiding.”

  “I’m not hiding,” I say defensively. I’m totally hiding.

  Damien gives me a look that says he knows I’m lying. “Are you going to accept my job offer or not?” he says impatiently.

  I stare up into his face, trying to read behind the lines, to see the real thoughts behind his expressionless brown eyes. I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to work for you.” I pause, trying to hold the next words back, but I can’t. “I have a feeling you’re quite demanding.”

  22

  The stunned look on Damien’s face almost makes me laugh. He obviously wasn’t expecting me to turn down his offer.

  He’s about to reply to what he clearly believes is my mad statement, when his phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket, and a strange look passes over his face. “I have to take this,” he says, and strides from the room, answering the phone with a curt, “Jeff. What’s happened?”

  His voice becomes indistinct as he walks down the hallway and into the living room.

  I look at Blade. “How are you feeling?” I ask. I’m still protective of him, despite the fact he said he might have to kill me, and I can only put it down to the fact that I feel like I saved him. From myself, but still, I saved him.

  “Better. I should be right in a day or two.”

  “Was that a big demon?” I’m genuinely curious. It was a bit bigger than the ones I’ve seen before, but not by much.

  “One of the bigger ones. It was strong and mean.”

  I pull the bottle out of my pocket. “What should I do with this?“ My hand glows in a matching blue to the demon’s light inside the glass. The demon inside me squirms, as if in response to the bigger demon.

  “What do you want to do with it?“

  “Examine it,” I say promptly. “Figure it out.”

  Blade shrugs. “Then that’s what you should do. Just remember not to drop it.” He gives me a tired smile.

  I’m immediately contrite. “You need to rest. We’ve been keeping you up.” I stand up.

  “I don’t need—” He tries to sit up properly, but winces in pain instead.

  “I’m going to leave you, and you’re going to rest,” I say firmly. I pull a blanket up over his still-bare chest, my eyes lingering on his golden muscled arms a moment longer than necessary. Then I get the hell out of there before I say something stupid.

  Damien is still talking on the phone in the living room, so I go into my spare room. It used to have a bed, but I gave up pretending to be sociable a while ago and gave it to the family in 3F. They needed it more than me anyway.

  Now I’ve just got a couple of big workbenches on the back and side walls, and piles of junk everywhere else. There’s a mix of soldering and metalworking equipment on the bench at the back, which I use to create my sculptures, which then melds into my inventions, and then my clinical research equipment sits on the wall closest to the door.

  The beginning of another sculpture is piled at the back, this time using metal sporting equipment that I’ve found dumped in various places. Golf clubs, a football helmet,
and some fishing wire are poking out of my big project box on the floor. Sitting on the bench in front of it is the toaster I promised Mr. Fookes I’d fix.

  I sigh. No time like the present.

  Fixing things is soothing to me. It’s what I do. I pick up the toaster and undo the screws on the bottom, looking for something that might be out of place. I’m not entirely certain how a toaster works, but I’m usually pretty quick with figuring out that kind of thing.

  Baz taught me about the inner workings of cars and tractors at an early age. I can still remember, right from when I was little, just gravitating toward him, watching him fix all the machinery at the compound. Later, when I was older, I helped him fix stuff. I’m pretty sure he was an engineer in his previous life, although he never talked about it. When I knew him, he was just Baz.

  I peer into the toaster, trying to find all the connections. It’s soothing to examine the toaster, piece by piece.

  “Having fun?” asks a dry voice from the doorway.

  I jump, thoroughly startled. Looking up, I glare at Damien, pushing my glasses back up my nose. “Could you at least knock?” I say grumpily.

  “I did. You were too involved in your work.” He walks in, eyeing up my room. “This is all very intriguing. What are you working on?”

  “My neighbor’s toaster,” I say reluctantly.

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  He gives me a speculative look that I don’t like. He’s a smart guy. I get the feeling he’s pretty good at assessing people and using that knowledge to his advantage.

  It’s lucky for me there’s no way I can accept his job offer.

  “You fix a lot of things?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Appliances, machinery, that kind of thing.”

  “Where did you learn to do it?”

  He’s trying to dig for information, but I’ve got experience keeping my life to myself. “Here and there.”