Mark of Orion

by S L Richardson

  Already guilty...

  The thin thread of trust snapped between them and fell away.

  Mom came up and put her hand on his arm. "Matt, we were in bed when he got home. I'm sure his plan was to tell us this morning, right, honey?"

  "Stop answering for him, Rachel. He's a big boy now. Well?" He stabbed a finger into Zach's chest. "That truck was in mint condition when I gave it to you. I expected more from you."

  Zach’s stomach clenched. His dad's temper hit him square in the chest, deflating him.

  "This wasn't my fault." Zach threw his hands in the air and stepped back. "It happened last night at Red Rock. We parked and set out on a hike. When we got back, the window was smashed, but nothing was stolen. There were no other cars in the lot, and the guard shack was empty when we exited the park." He put his sweaty hands inside the hoodie pocket. "We didn't go anywhere but Red Rock. In fact, we can go now, and I'll show you the broken glass, or you can ask my friends." He glared at his dad. "Don't worry, no one got hurt."

  This time.

  His mom moved closer, reaching out her hand. "We know−"

  Zach stepped away and shook his head. "When I got home, you guys were in bed. I got up early, so I went for a run. I wanted to catch you before you found it." He stared at his dad. "I thought by now I would get the benefit of doubt, but I guess not. I'm sorry." Zach turned and faced the garage as the flush crept up his face. "Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

  Zach walked away from his parents and their silent judgement. Dad reached out to grab his arm, but Zach side-stepped and kept walking. Dad's footsteps followed him to the garage door. Zach punched in the code, and the metal door creaked as it opened. His dad's hand didn't miss his arm this time, stopping him before he could escape inside the garage.

  "This isn't about who pays for the window. Look at me." Dad tugged back, making Zach face him, but Zach glared at his dad with hurt he couldn't disguise. Dad's shoulders fell, and he released a heavy sigh. "When I came out and saw the window busted, I got upset. I go to your room and you're not there. Your mom finds me and shares that you woke up screaming last night. So yeah. I'm thinking there's more going on that you're not telling us." He gave Zach's arm a quick squeeze and let go. "You can understand, right?" Zach looked away and kept quiet. "I'm glad you and your friends are okay."

  Okay on the outside...

  "Are you ever going to trust me again?" Zach's throat clogged with emotion when he looked back. They stared at each other, silently exchanging raw, painful memories that still hovered near the surface, festering like a wound too deep to heal.

  Why did I ask him that?

  "Zach−"

  "Never mind, Dad." Zach headed for the back wall of the garage. Bins of tools and household items were stacked on tidy, organized shelves.

  "Come inside and let's eat breakfast." Mom laid her hand on his shoulder. His stomach churned. Food was the last thing it needed.

  "I want to cover the window first. I'll come inside when I'm done." Zach pulled down a bin, not making eye contact. If he found disappointment shadowing them, it would crush him.

  "Okay." The back door closed as he pulled opened the bin's lid. Through the haze of unshed tears, he searched for plastic wrap and duct tape. Not finding them, he slammed the lid back in place, hitting it once, and then he couldn't stop. His fist pounded away in his desperate need to batter back the memories and hurt haunting him, eating at his soul.

  Push it deeper, Zach.

  He stopped and hung his head while his chest heaved. Hank whined beside him, nudging his wet nose against Zach's hand while his tail wagged across the dusty concrete. Somehow, Hank knew when he was hurting. He crouched and rubbed between Hank's ears, leaning his forehead against his dog's big head.

  "Thanks buddy. I'll be all right." Zach stood under the gaze of his soft brown eyes. Hank turned and laid on the floor with a big groan. Zach scoffed, not sure if the groan was because the run wore Hank out or because Hank was tired of hearing Zach lie to himself.

  Zach opened more bins, rummaging for the supplies while he searched inside himself for more space to pack away his agonizing memories.

  Chapter Ten

  Olivia

  Olivia laid her purse and jacket over the den's sofa. Her stomach growled as she strolled to the fridge to prepare lunch. Grilled ham and cheese sounded wonderful, so she plucked out the ingredients and closed the door. She jumped at the sight of her mom standing behind the door, gazing at her with shielded eyes. Mom had been quiet during church. Olivia even nudged her a few times to get her attention, which was a role reversal for them.

  "Want a sandwich?" Olivia waved the sandwich makings in front of her.

  Mom shook her head but stood her ground while watching Olivia make her sandwich.

  "What? You're being creepy." Olivia chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. When it didn't work, Olivia put the bread and butter knife on the counter and faced her. Olivia tilted her head, noting her mom's creased brow and lips pressed in an unfamiliar thin line. Mom walked to the den and sat on the couch.

  "Come sit with me, please." She patted the spot next to her. With a twinge of apprehension, Olivia sat in the requested spot. She mimicked her mom's posture with her feet tucked behind her and an arm slung over the top of the couch. They had many relaxed and natural conversations sitting in these same spots, but now the undercurrents ran tense and unsure. Olivia's stomach flipped, but it wasn't because she was hungry.

  "What's wrong? You're scaring me." Olivia was unsure she wanted to hear the answer.

  Mom took a deep breath and released a long sigh. "Olivia. I'm not sure where to start with this, but..." She ran a hand through her hair and flipped it off her neck. "I overheard your conversation this morning with Zach on the porch−"

  "Mom−" Olivia jumped off the couch, staring incredulously back at her.

  "Wait. I wasn't snooping. Thunder ran through the cracked door, so I got up to shut it."

  Olivia turned away as a rush of heat swamped her.

  Oh no! What if−

  "I only caught the tail end, but it was enough to figure out something horrible is taking place and you need to tell me right now."

  Olivia closed her eyes, a sinking sensation engulfed her.

  "Mom, please, I can't−"

  Mom pushed herself off the couch and faced her. "Olivia, I'm not asking, and I'm not kidding. If what I gathered was correct, you need to spill it." They stood a few feet apart, but their clash of wills had them toe-to-toe. How could Olivia even share these last few days, and was she ready to unpack her horrifying story? But Olivia could see it in her mom’s eyes: she wasn't backing away from her demand.

  She'll think I'm nuts... What if she doesn't believe me?

  "Mom−"

  She closed the gap, placing her hands on Olivia's arms and giving them a squeeze while her eyes responded with her. "Just let it out."

  Olivia's throat constricted as unshed tears blurred her vision. They sat down on the couch and faced each other as Olivia worked up the courage to start her story.

  "Okay. What I will tell you will sound frightening. But I swear, I'm not lying or exaggerating. When I start, I don't know if I'll be able to stop, so please, let me get it out before you ask questions... deal?"

  "Deal," Mom whispered with a small, reassuring smile.

  Olivia held on tight to her mom's hands, letting them be her anchor as the events of the last few days poured out of her. Mom started to interrupt a few times but kept her lips in a grim line. Olivia began with the fight in the coffee shop, how no one but the three of them saw the demon and how the marks appeared. Mom's face paled when Olivia showed her the Orion mark. Olivia's grip tightened as she shared the video game vision, how they discovered the mark was Orion and their encounters with the demons and angels at Red Rock.

  "I can't believe what's happening to us." Olivia wiped away her tears when she finished her story.

  Mom's warm hands caressed her face, her thumbs wiping away the las
t bit of moisture. Her unexpected reaction of silent acceptance stunned Olivia.

  "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you. You could have been−" Mom's face blanched as she bit her bottom lip.

  "Mom, you couldn't have stopped any of this−"

  Mom’s fingers tightened around her face, silencing her next words.

  "Olivia. Listen to me. Just... listen." She leaned closer. "This is dangerous and carries the potential risk of you getting hurt. We can't take any chances, so you need to stay home. You can't go anywhere. Promise me."

  "Okay, Mom... um... That's a little extreme. Tell−"

  "Look." Mom closed her worried eyes and took another deep breath. When they opened, composure had returned.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm worried for you, and I want to keep you near as we figure out our next move. Let me call a friend of mine from our old church. He's dealt with the supernatural before and can give us much-needed direction."

  "No, I don't want anyone else involved.... Mom−"

  "Olivia, I trust this person, and we need guidance on how to keep you and your friends safe." Olivia nodded. What if it upset the boys, bringing a stranger into the equation? Her gut told her yes because they wanted to keep this hidden from their families, but she could only worry so much. Besides, Mom's plan had possibilities for answers they needed to figure out how to stay alive.

  "You're right. Call your friend. Thank you for listening and for finding us help. I'm sorry this happened."

  "You've got nothing to be sorry for, honey, because you didn't ask for this. I'll go make the call." Mom kissed her cheek and headed upstairs.

  A huge weight lifted off Olivia's shoulders. She replayed the talk in her head, and a funny feeling nagged at her that her mom knew more than she showed. Although scared and worried, Mom didn't ask many questions or even consider her story far-fetched. Olivia always got grilled for details. Why not this time? And who was this friend? She didn't remember any demon chasers from their last church.

  Stretching out, she laid her head on the couch pillow and closed her heavy eyelids, exhausted and numb from retelling the horrors of the last few days. Her lunch of grilled cheese was long forgotten in the talk of demons and angels.

  Olivia walked to the den with Thunder in tow, who was purring with excitement. He had figured out long ago that the smell of popcorn meant a vacant, unmoving lap on the couch for a few hours. She nestled herself in the couch's corner and lifted the popcorn bowl just in time before Thunder claimed his spot, his large body spilling off her lap. She laid the bowl on the armrest, wondering what was taking her mom so long.

  Mom had spent the entire afternoon upstairs, coming down to make dinner and then back to her room. Today's events had subdued their normal talkative dinner banter. Olivia waited for an update to their earlier conversation, but to her surprise, she never got one.

  Just as well. Too exhausted by the whole thing.

  Olivia's goal for tonight and Christmas morning was to ride out the time without conflict or revived painful memories. As much as Mom had tried to start a Christmas tradition such as presents or Christmas PJs, Olivia wanted no part of it. They had one tradition: sharing a pasta dinner followed by one of their favorite chick flicks. This year was no different... or so she thought.

  Olivia flipped through the movie channels. Salt and butter glistened on her fingers as she tossed a kernel into her mouth. She licked her fingers, eager for the two-hour escape from her current madness.

  Mom entered the room with one hand behind her back. Olivia lifted an eyebrow when her mom stopped in front of her. Her arm came around, and a small package wrapped in shimmering silver paper tied with a purple ribbon lay in Mom's elegant hand.

  Olivia sat up, tossing the remote and an irritated cat off her lap. "Mom, you know−"

  Mom sat next to her, placing the present on Olivia's lap. "I've waited a long time to give you this gift." She reached out with both hands and cupped Olivia's face. "Please, take it, honey."

  Olivia stared into her mom's soft eyes and knew she couldn't refuse. She gingerly picked up the box, examining it from different angles. "It's so pretty." She grinned at her Mom.

  "Open it." Mom nudged her leg, grinning back at her.

  Olivia held her breath as she pulled the tail of the delicate ribbon. Her mind raced at the possibilities of what her mom had waited so long to give her. She ran her finger under the tape and unwrapped the silver paper.

  A simple, square antique velvet box rested in her hand. Olivia glanced at her mom, who sat with her hands clasped in her lap and anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

  The box's hinges squeaked as Olivia lifted the lid. She gasped at the exquisite gift nestled inside the black velvet lining. An antique silver ring with a brilliant red stone. It gleamed with streaks of blue and purple as a faint orange glow radiated from within the stone. A delicate crown setting encased the stone on top of a wide scrolling band.

  A single tear slipped down Olivia's cheek. "It's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen." She moved the box around, fascinated at how the stone changed colors as it hit the various angles of light.

  "Put it on, sweetie," Mom said, her voice cracking.

  Olivia hesitated, then slipped it onto her right middle finger. Its fit was perfect... like someone had made it for her.

  They both giggled, delighted by the ring's colors dazzling on her finger.

  "It's just mesmerizing. What type of stone is this?"

  "The stone is a fire opal called Dragon's Breath," Mom said.

  "That's a perfect name for it!" Olivia laughed in agreement.

  Mom grabbed her hand. "This was my mother's ring. She gave it to me when I was your age. Legend says it will enhance intuition and help you to better trust yourself. The colors reveal the strength and energy of your inner fire." She turned serious as she gazed back at Olivia. "When you came into this world, I stopped wearing it and tucked it away until the time was right to pass it on to you. I ask you now to wear it, remembering what I said."

  "I will.... I promise, Mom." Olivia sniffed. "Thank you," she whispered.

  Olivia watched the orange glow grow inside the ring. "I wish I could meet her... Grandma." When Mom didn't reply, she glanced up at her.

  A sadness flickered across Mom's face. "Maybe we will get to Ireland someday." Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

  Olivia threw her arms around her. "Thank you so much, Mom." She gave her a big squeeze. "I love you."

  "Love you, too." She untangled herself from Olivia and laughed. "Now, let's watch a movie." Mom leaned over, grabbing the remote.

  Olivia didn't pay much attention to the movie. Instead, she got lost in the stone's vivid colors and the mysteries of the women who had worn it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sergio

  Exhausted.

  Sergio stepped into the steaming shower. The hot water's heat ran over his goosebump-riddled skin, reviving him since he hadn't slept last night. Sergio sighed as the spray pelted his face. Visions of the demons at Red Rock played like a movie loop in his head. He wanted to press the stop button, but it kept up its relentless repetition of last night.

  Sergio's hand gripped the black armor, trying to pry her nails away from his neck.

  He poured shampoo into his hand and lathered his hair, scrubbing hard, wishing it would erase the memories. White foam smelling of forest rolled over his face. His fingers searched the side of his neck, finding the small puncture wounds from the demon's sharp nails. It was tender, reminding him how close he'd been to death.

  Dark mist surrounded him as ash fell upon him. Bile rose as fear surged through his body, smoke filling his senses.

  He scrubbed his body red, wanting his skin free of any demon ash or smell.

  Her nails pressed into his skin. He knew at any second, his blood would spurt from his neck, draining over him.

  Sergio's fresh tears ran down his cheeks as dry sobs threatened to erupt. Could he ever forget last night?

>   Someone pounded on the bathroom door, jarring him from his memories.

  "Hurry, mano. All the good deals will be gone," Manny yelled through the door.

  "I'll be out in a minute." Sergio shut off the water, trying to calm his racing heart. Manny and he always shopped together on Christmas Eve. He looked forward to their tradition, but not today. Not after last night. Sergio didn't want Manny's critical eyes on him or more of his bulldog questioning.

  Sergio toweled off and threw on his clothes. He glanced in the mirror, making sure the hoodie covered his puncture wounds. If he stayed on one side of Manny and kept his chin tucked, the wounds would stay hidden. If he snagged Mom's makeup...

  "Let's go. You're pretty enough." Manny snickered through the door. "No time to pick up chicas today."

  Sergio yanked open the door. "Give it a rest, Manny. You're pretty enough for both of us." Sergio darted past him, ignoring the smirk on Manny's face. He couldn't let him get under his skin today.

  Just stay cool.

  The hallway emptied into a large family room, expanding into a big, bright kitchen. Female voices mixed with laughter greeted him as he made his way to the fridge. The heavenly aroma of tamale makings filled his nostrils. A few of his mom's friends bustled around the kitchen. Blanca hand-mixed the masa in a large red bowl while Marisol scooped the tamale filling into three separate bowls. Six women sat at the family kitchen table, each building their tamales.

  "Good morning, Mijo," his mom, Sofia, said from the table. Her large onyx-colored eyes found his while her hand reached for a corn husk. "You and Manny going shopping?" The corner of her eyes crinkled as her full lips stretched into a smile.

  "Yep, I need to buy a few more gifts." He closed the fridge door. Nothing sounded good with his stomach still in knots. He walked over to the table and kissed her cheek. Mom spread a thin layer of masa over the husk and filled it with the spicy pork filling, smelling of red chili. She smiled back at him as she folded the bottom inside and rolled the husk together. She laid it on top of the tamales stacked on a big tray in the middle of the table. "Smells good, Mama."