Angelic Nightmare

by H G Lynch

  For a second, she wondered what Brandon and Perry really looked like, if they were as good-looking and she’d just never noticed. She doubted it, but it was possible. Though she recalled Brandon having dark eyes. She didn’t much like dark eyes. Then she remembered there had been a dark eyed guy with them at the front door. He seemed to have vanished.

  “Hey, where’s Raz?” she asked abruptly, interrupting whatever the old woman and Ricky were talking about. For a heartbeat, there was silence, and then everyone frowned in confusion. The old woman smiled politely like she didn’t mind being interrupted, but there was something dark in her eyes behind the glasses.

  “You mean the attractive young man in the white? I’m afraid he can’t enter here,” she said kindly, still smiling.

  Ember was getting that bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one that meant trouble was on the way. Reid was suddenly on the alert, though she doubted anyone who didn’t know him would notice. Meaning, hopefully, the old woman didn’t notice.

  “You mean, he isn’t welcome here? Have you met him before?” Reid asked, his tone casual, but curious. His reflection was thrown into a mirror by the door, but something about it looked off. In the reflection, his eyes were cold and glinting like metal in sunlight, and there was something wrong about the shape of his mouth.

  “Oh, no, no. Of course not. He simply cannot enter, because this house is warded with Enochian runes to prevent him from entering. You see, angels don’t like it when you use their runes against them like that.” The old woman got her feet spectacularly fast, while Ember’s mind was still processing her words. There was something long and dark in her wrinkled hand, and she was pointing it at Reid.

  “Shit!” Reid spat, dropping into a half-crouch.

  Ricky was instantly in front of Sherry and Ember, saying something hurriedly over and over, but Ember didn’t listen. She was fascinated by the old woman’s reflection in the mirror as she bore down on Reid with the pointy thing. It took her a lot longer than it should’ve to realise it was a stake, with exotic-looking symbols etched into the wood. But the reflection in the little mirror was far scarier; she didn’t look like an old woman in it. Her eyes were black as coals, no white, no iris. Her lips were pulled back, showing a row of jagged teeth befitting of a piranha. Her fingers, curled around the end of the stake, were tipped with sharp, curving black claws. Ember couldn’t understand it. That mirror was wrong. It wasn’t showing things right.

  “Ricky, get them out of here!” Reid yelled, and suddenly, Ricky was hauling her off the sofa, his grasp on her wrist bruisingly tight. He was pushing Sherry past Reid, out the door. She ran down the hall ahead of him and flung the front door open. Ember let Ricky drag her as far as the threshold of the living room, and then dug in her heels.

  “The mirror’s wrong,” she said. Her voice sounded slow and childish to her own ears, and it gave her a jolt. Her head was starting to hurt, full of fuzzy cotton wool and razorblades. And her throat ached, a heady scent tickling at the nerves in her canines. Blood, she realised belatedly. She glanced at Reid, and saw him staring at a slash on his forearm with bafflement and disbelief.

  Meanwhile, the old woman was getting ready to swing the stake again. Knowing she had to do something, Ember jerked free of Ricky’s grasp. He called after her, tried to snag her wrist again, but she was moving too fast. Everything around her blurred, but it didn’t seem odd. The world was just too slow.

  “Ember!” Reid, alerted by Ricky’s shout, gaped at her in terror as she dove forward, right into the path of the stake. He grasped her arms, tried to shove her out of the way, but it was too late. The stake was going to get her in the heart. She had time to note the old woman’s eyes going very wide in horror as she realised she couldn’t stop the momentum of her own arm in time. The tip of the stake cut through the fabric of Ember’s jumper, and her t-shirt, and nicked her skin. It went so slowly she could hear each thread rip in her t-shirt, hear the scrape of the wood as it tore her skin. Barely half a second must’ve passed, but to Ember it felt like minutes.

  The pain of the slight cut, of the tip slowly sliding into her flesh, bit by tiny bit, flashed through her like a back draught of flame. Heat flared under her skin, and she threw out her hands toward the old woman. A snap of light like a flash gun flared from her hands, soared toward the woman, and hit her in the chest. The blinding, yellow-white light shot through the woman’s chest, and carried on, smacking into the wall before disappearing, leaving behind a scorch mark.

  The old woman looked down at the hole in her chest, the size of a basketball. The edges of the wound were blackened and sizzling, and shards of her ribs were scattered amongst the charred flesh like gruesome sprinkles. There was a spattering of lumpy red-ish stuff all around her on the floor, and on the wall behind her. The grandfather clock had a pink tint of blood spray across the elegant face. And then the woman dropped like a stone, and hit the floor with a sickening thump.

  Ember frowned in disgust at the blood that landed on her shoes. She’d have to wash her Vans when she got home. With her nose still wrinkled in disgust, she turned to Reid and looked up at him. His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open. The sharp tips of his fangs were clearly visible. That was when she realised what had been wrong with his reflection in the mirror; It had been showing him all vamped out when he wasn’t really vamped out. The wrongness in the shape of his mouth had been his fangs pressing down on his lower lip. Her head felt foggy, but she was proud of herself for working that out.

  “The mirror’s wrong,” she said again, triumphantly. Then her knees went weak and she stumbled.

  Reid caught her, worry creasing his face, mingling with amazement and shock.

  “Ember? Ember, what’s wrong?” His voice was tight, and he tried to put her back on her feet, but her feet weren’t cooperating. They wanted to go in different directions, like when she was drunk.

  Vaguely, she realised something was wrong with her, and she said as much to Reid. Or she tried to, but what she actually said was, “Mmh, I’m wrong. The mirror’s wrong and I’m all wrong. Why am I wrong?” She knew what she was trying to say, but her mind couldn’t seem to link the right words together.

  Reid stared down at her in panic. “Ember? Ember?”

  He swung her up into his arms, and then they were outside, faster than she could track. Unlike before, when she’d been moving inhumanly fast herself, it seemed like the world was zooming past her, and she was staying still in Reid’s arms.

  “Oh my God, Ember! What happened? Is she okay?” Sherry was suddenly at her side, her green eyes shining.

  Someone, possibly Hiro, swore from a little distance away.

  Then a cool, soothing voice drifted over her and she closed her eyes. “I can help her. Just hold her for a moment.”

  A hand was placed gently across her forehead, cooling against a fever she hadn’t realised she had. A high-pitched ringing sounded in her ears, and she wanted to cover them with her hands. However, she found she couldn’t move. A wave of clear, sparkling water swept through her mind, swirling around her brain and easing knots in that invisible extra layer she called her mind-limb. The fuzzy cotton wool was washed away, and everything became less confusing.

  Slowly, she relaxed, and opened her eyes, not having consciously closed them. Raphael stood over her, his dark eyes concerned, a stray stand of brown hair swirling around his face. He took his hand off her forehead and stepped back. Blinking, Ember looked past him to Sherry, who was watching with a mixture of awe and anxiety. Ricky, beside her, looked impressed, relieved. Hiro was looking the most concerned she’d ever seen him, one hand knotted in his scruffy crimson hair. Last, she looked up at Reid, who was holding her, and thumped him on the shoulder.

  “You can put me down now,” she said, though her voice was a little rough.

  His creased expression eased out and he sighed in relief, his blue eyes lightening. He bent his head and kissed her on the mouth, hard. Sparks shot down her spine and her heart fl
uttered. When he pulled away, he was frowning again. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, Emz. You scared the hell out of me! What were you thinking?” He placed her gently on her feet despite his obvious anger.

  She lifted her chin defiantly to glare at him. “I was thinking you were about to get staked, and I couldn’t just stand there and watch it happen.”

  Reid sighed, hugged her tightly, then let her go and stalked to the low wall on the other side of the road. She hadn’t realised they were out of the old woman’s garden, on the other side of the gate.

  Huh.

  “What happened, Emz?” Sherry asked quietly, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. Her light brows were furrowed over her emerald eyes.

  Ember shook her head. “I’m not sure. I…I think the old woman did something to me. I couldn’t think properly, everything was fuzzy and confusing. I couldn’t focus. And then I noticed something in the mirror. Reid’s reflection didn’t look right. It was showing him all vamped out, when he wasn’t vamped out. When the old lady stepped in front of it, her reflection looked…” She shuddered. “Her eyes were all black, and she had claws, and teeth like razors. Then I saw she’d cut Reid, and…Wait…” She shook her head, looked across at Reid. He was examining the cut on his arm with great concern. But…It should’ve healed. A bolt of awful awareness slid through her, settling in her stomach like tar. “Reid. Why isn’t it healing?” Her voice was high and strained to her own ears.

  Reid looked up and grimaced, shrugging. “Not a clue. It’s not bad though,” he said. That wasn’t her worry. Her worry was that it reminded her of her nightmare, where he’d been slashed all over with gashes that didn’t heal. And, in the dream, the man with the knife had cut her, too, and she hadn’t healed either.

  That was when she remembered she’d almost gotten stabbed in the chest with that stake. She looked down instinctively, putting a hand to her chest. There was a small hole in her jumper and t-shirt, and a little red smear on her skin. Carefully, she touched the bloody patch, and felt a tear in the skin, just half a centimetre long. But it was enough. She gasped and swallowed back her stomach contents, her hand shaking. She raised her eyes to Sherry’s, and Sherry stared back in solemn understanding, her mouth pinched.

  “My nightmare. It’s just like my nightmare,” Ember breathed, feeling like she’d just had ice water poured over her. It seemed that Sherry was the only one who’d heard her.

  “Ember, what’s wrong? What is it?” Ricky asked, mouth turned down.

  She shook her head, continued what she’d been saying before as if she didn’t feel like throwing up, like she hadn’t just been jerked into a state of sickening shock. “I saw Reid had been cut, and the old woman was about to…So, I jumped in front of the stake and when the stake touched me, it was like liquid fire burned through my veins. It happened so fast it felt like lightning. I just…I don’t know. I just threw out my hands, and all the liquid fire shot out of me at once in a really bright orb.” She let out a breath, pausing, then added, “That’s never happened before. It was stronger than anything I’ve felt with the fire ability.”

  Everyone was staring at her, except Hiro, who was glaring with narrow eyes into the old woman’s house through the open door. His head was tilted, and it looked like he was…sniffing.

  “Hiro, what is it?” she asked cautiously.

  Hiro shook his head without looking at her, then disappeared into the house.

  “What the hell is he doing?” Reid muttered.

  Hiro re-emerged a few minutes later, carrying something. He came over to the group and held out a little cloth sack, tied at the top with a piece of thread. His nose was scrunched. “Mugwort and Mayweed. Nasty stuff when used properly. It has to be soaked in rose oil and dried completely, then ground into a powder. After that, it’s dangerous to certain supernatural creatures. Vampires can’t smell it, and it can affect the weaker ones. Apparently, it’s enough to drug out even the strongest Elemental,” Hiro closed his fist around the little cloth sack, sighed.

  “Wait, you’re telling me that psycho was a witch?” Reid snapped.

  “No, you don’t have to be a witch to make drugging powders. Or any other kind of herb-based potion for that matter. You just need the knowledge. This woman was obviously taught well. She knew how to make and use this stuff, knew it would give away the Elemental she was looking for if she came into the house. And this…” Hiro pulled the stake from his back pocket, held it up to the light. The old woman must’ve dropped it when she fell. The runes etched into the wood looked like savage carvings gouged out with a knife. “This is one hell of a vampire weapon. These markings are new to me, but I can tell they’re old. Really old. And deadly.” Hiro’s cat-like eyes glittered unhappily. “Whatever The Society is up to, they’ve got more than enough knowledge about the supernatural to cause some serious damage. I’ve never seen humans who knew this level of information before. And I’ve been around for a long, long time.”

  Ember felt his words sink in like a stone dropping through custard. Great. They were up against an organisation that might as well have witches working for them. Hell, maybe they did. Where else would they learn how to make such strong herb potions?

  “We should get out of here,” Sherry suggested, looking down the road at a crowd of teenagers coming their way.

  They were about to leave when Ember remembered something. “Wait, the mirror!” She started back toward the house, then hesitated. She didn’t want to go back in there. She cast a glance at Reid.

  He nodded and vanished into the house. He was back in a heartbeat, carrying the mirror under one arm. He closed the rotting yellow door and glanced around to make sure the teenagers down the road weren’t looking, then broke off the door handle with a groan of metal. Nobody would be getting in there any time soon.

  “Let’s go.” He jumped the gate and they headed back to the car.

  Hiro and Raphael were already gone when Ember slammed the car door shut and looked out. There was only a lonely piece of dirty cloth and the scattered remains of crushed Mugwort.

  Chapter Nine

  Reid woke up with a start in the dark bedroom. He glanced at the clock, and frowned in confusion. It wasn’t normal for him to wake up in the middle of the night for no reason. Something must’ve woken him. He turned over; Ember was sleeping, her breathing gentle and even, her hair spilled out on her pillow like gold silk. His fingers longed to touch her face, or stroke her hair, but he didn’t want to risk waking her.

  He was about to lie down again and go back to sleep, but that was when he heard it: A muffled noise like footsteps. He listened harder. Heard whispering. And under that, the quick, light heartbeats of at least three people. Damn it! He slid out of bed carefully, paused, considering whether or not to wake Ember. Whoever was here, was most likely here for her. But if he could stop them before they got near her, he’d save her a lot of stress and keep her out of possible danger — He just knew she’d jump right into the fight if he woke her. With a sigh, he let her asleep. The voices seemed to be coming from the kitchen. They’d probably broken in through the side door. Making a snap decision, he sent a telepathic message to Ricky, hoping he wasn’t too deeply asleep to get it.

  Ricky, intruders. Three of them. Kitchen. He waited a heartbeat.

  Then Ricky’s voice spoke in his head, I hear them. I’m in the hallway.

  Good. Maybe they could get this over with without too much noise and fuss. When the intruders stepped out of the kitchen, Reid and Ricky could spring on them. It would be easier if there were only two intruders. There being three meant they’d have to compel one of them instantly. Snap compulsion was never easy, but it was doable.

  He opened the door slowly, crept into the hallway, and shut it again, silently. He peered cautiously around the corner, and saw Ricky hovering in the doorway of the other bedroom. Reid moved swiftly down the hall and Ricky blurred past the open kitchen doorway to flank the other side of it. Any minute, the intruders would come through he
re, and get an awful surprise. What did they think they were playing at, trying to break into a house with two vampires in it? Were they suicidal? Reid got ready to spring instant compulsion on whoever was first through the door. That way, whoever it was wouldn’t have time to alert the others of a presence in the hallway before the vampires attacked.

  When the kitchen door swung open a little wider, Reid tensed. The first person through the doorway made it two steps before Reid threw the compulsion on her, stopping her mid-stride. Then he and Ricky sprang on the others, clasping hands over their mouths to keep them quiet. The other two intruders were males, one was obviously the muscle of the operation. The vampires pulled the intruders into compulsion, and the males slumped, falling asleep under command. The female still stood in the hallway, but she was fighting the compulsion. Reid could feel her mind resisting his will, and since he was compelling two people at once, she was having better luck than she would’ve otherwise. Still, he was pretty sure she couldn’t break it. He’d never met anyone who could break his compulsion, even when he was compelling three or four people at once. Except Ember, of course. She was utterly resistant. He still wasn’t entirely sure whether that was an effect of being an Elemental, or if it was just Ember’s own stubbornness. He suspected it was a bit of both. He’d have to compel another Elemental to be sure.

  “What do we do with them now?” Ricky whispered, his eyes glinting in the dark.

  Reid tried to think, but his mind stalled for a moment. Something niggled at him, and he squeezed his eyes closed.

  “Reid?” Ricky hissed, evidently sensing something was wrong.

  In a brief flash of clarity, Reid figured out the niggling thing.

  “Check them for herbs,” he growled quietly. His compulsion was suffering, weakening. If it got any worse, the female was likely to break free. He felt dizzy, light-headed. Ricky patted down all the intruders, came up with a little cloth sack on the female. Unfolding it, Ricky grimaced.