by Nan Higgins
The weight on me shifted, and I realized I’d quit breathing. I tried to inhale a big gulp of air, but shallow breaths were all my flattened lungs allowed.
“But why?” I glanced at Sloane, whose eyes were as big as I’d ever seen them. She was as shocked as I was.
Mom closed her eyes for several seconds, and when she opened them again, they were wet with tears. My dad put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder.
“My father loved being a special. He loved everything about it. He felt fulfilled doing something he thought was so important, and he had a lot of compassion for formers and went out of his way to help them. He began as a field agent and was so good at it, and then worked his way up to the CDU, and that division…it changed him.”
“Changed him how?” The warmth I’d felt at Sloane’s arrival had been seeping away since I read the newsletter, and the last of it drained from my body with those words from my mother. It was replaced with a frigid chill.
“What do you know about the Criminally Demonic Unit?” Dad asked.
“Practically nothing,” I said. “I’m guessing it’s the department that handles the really bad formers?”
“No, not formers,” my dad said. “Demons have never been human.”
“What do you mean?” The chill in my body twisted and churned and felt as if it was becoming something solid inside me.
“I mean, they are demonic forces, spirits that are evil and dangerous.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “I guess I thought we were only in the business of ghosts.”
“We are in the business of ghosts.” His voice sounded strained. “And it is for the protection of ghosts that we must also be in the business of demons. Look, you’ve heard of demonic possession, yes?”
“Sure, in horror movies.” I was finally getting the truth, and now all I wanted was for everyone to stop talking.
“Well, that happens with the living, but it’s very rare. It’s much more common for demons to possess formers before they make their final transfer because it’s when they’re at their most vulnerable. They aren’t of this world anymore, and so their souls are beginning to dissipate on this plane, and if a demon is able to take over a former on earth, they can prevent the soul from moving on. And every soul a demon captures makes it that much stronger and harder to deal with.”
“And when you say deal with, you mean…?” I didn’t want to, but I needed to know. Now that we were finally speaking honestly, I needed to know all of it.
“May I?” Sloane asked.
“Please.” My father sounded tired.
“The CDU tracks and hunts demons, and their ultimate responsibility is to destroy them. They use specially designed weapons, the kind that are kept secret from everyone but the highest-level people in the division.”
My mom, who’d been staring at the floor, leaned forward and rested her hand on my leg.
“One of those demons killed my dad, your grandpa, two weeks before you were born.” I could feel her hand tremble through the thin blankets, and I sat up so I could put my hand on hers. The cold inside me jumped to my chest and formed a lump of dread that made it difficult to breathe. “I just…I never got over it, Aria. And until a few months ago, I put all my energy into letting myself believe that I could bend your future into what I wanted it to be. You’re such a talented musician, and I fooled myself into believing that meant you were like me, a normal person with some extraordinary but very human talents. Against your father’s better judgment, I got him to agree to go along with my denial.”
“I knew better,” Dad said. “Don’t let your mother think she’s the only one to blame. I know I’ve put you at a disadvantage in your training, and I’m so sorry for that. We’re both sorry.”
I looked at my mom, tears spilling onto her cheeks, and my dad’s gaunt face with dark circles under his eyes. They looked miserable, and I knew they were sorry, which made what I had to tell them even more difficult. I’d been holding this from them out of distrust and anger. Some of that was starting to dissipate—although I knew it would take a long time to repair some of the trust that had been broken—but now I wanted to shield them from what had happened because I knew how deeply hurt they would be.
“The thing is,” I began, “it’s not just being behind in my training that’s the problem. I’ve been in a lot of danger because of these secrets, and that’s why I’m asking you to be honest with me. All of this,” I motioned to the hospital room around me, “probably could have been prevented.”
“What do you mean?” My dad frowned.
“I’ve been having a prior visiting me pretty often.” I noticed my mom’s cheeks getting pale, but I needed to get the words out. “The night I fainted, it was because she approached me in the bathroom and grabbed me.”
“Our understanding is that the ward won’t work properly if an interpreter receives gifts from both sides of the family but only gets protection from one side,” Sloane said, and I was grateful for her input. “We think that must be why Aria was left vulnerable.”
“Nathan,” my mom whispered.
“No.” My dad shook his head vehemently. “No, that’s not possible.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because your grandfather and I forged your protection ward together when your mother was six months pregnant with you.”
“What other reason is there for this to be happening to Aria?” Sloane asked. Her grip on my hand had tightened.
My father shook his head once more. “I simply don’t know.”
Somehow, those words scared me more than anything that had happened so far.
Chapter Twenty-four
I woke up that night in the hospital not knowing what had startled me awake. The doctors had recommended I stay one more night for observation, and even though we all knew my fainting spell had nothing to do with a medical condition, my parents thought it was a good idea, and I agreed to stay.
Now that I was awake again, it shocked me that I’d even gone to sleep at all, given all the drama from earlier in the day. On one hand, I felt as if I was at the beginning of getting my relationship with my parents back. Their confessions about why they’d kept so many secrets didn’t erase the fact that they’d lied, and it would be a long road coming back from that, but at least we could start to work on our connection again. On the other hand, we had not solved the reason Clara was able to interact with me. The thought that she could appear anywhere and at any time and nobody knew why or how to fix it was so terrifying that I’d sat awake with the lights on until my eyelids stopped cooperating, and I’d drifted into an uneasy sleep. Images of sinister figures lurking around every corner invaded my dreams.
My room was darker than I remembered it being last night. The now familiar sounds of the hospital—a heart monitor beeping next door, nurses talking in the hallway, doors opening and closing as the staff went in and out of rooms—brought me a little bit of comfort, but I was uneasy. I didn’t feel alone. I strained my eyes in the darkness to see if I could make out anything, half expecting to see Mrs. Braverman’s gauzy silhouette, or that of a wild-eyed, snarling demon looming over me. The darkness felt stifling, and I fumbled on the panel that controlled my bed position and lighting. I found the button that turned on the light, pressed it, and gasped when the I saw who was in the room with me.
“Nick?” My screech woke him from what looked like a fairly sound sleep, and he jumped out of his chair, then started laughing sheepishly.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said.
“You scared the shit out of me!”
He yawned and rubbed his goatee. “I could say the same thing about you.”
That was fair, but at least he had known I was in the room with him. My thoughts went to the angry ghost or demon I’d pictured, and I had to pull my blankets tightly around me to ward off that familiar chill of dread. “What are you doing here?”
“Your parents asked me to come. They told me what’s been going on with you, and we agreed it’s
best for you to have an experienced interpreter nearby for the time being.”
“Great.” I fiddled with the control panel and switched on the dim light above my head so I could turn off the blinding fluorescents.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were being bothered by a prior?” he asked.
“I did tell someone. Sloane knew.”
He rolled his eyes. “So you told someone who’s almost as inexperienced as you. Why didn’t you tell someone who could actually help?”
“You know how my parents have been. They haven’t exactly been forthcoming about all the things I should have known about my life. I didn’t have any reason to think they’d be helpful.” A shard of guilt stabbed at my stomach, even as I said the words. Because of their secrecy, I’d allowed myself to believe my parents wouldn’t have my back when I was in danger. I’d messed up.
“Okay.” He nodded. “But what about me? I’ve been fighting nonstop with your dad to get him to give up the goods so you know what you’re getting into. You could have come to me.”
“I didn’t want to put you in a bad spot.” I shivered and pulled my blanket up to my shoulders. It felt as if I’d never escape the fear and unease that caused this chill deep inside. “I wasn’t ready to tell my dad, and I didn’t want to ask you to keep a secret. I didn’t really think you’d keep it from him.”
“I would’ve respected your wishes.”
“Really? So if I told you a secret now, you’d keep it between us?”
“I would. I’m your teacher, Aria, and your friend. We’ve always been cool, haven’t we? If you can tell me something that would help me keep you safe, I want to know.”
I pulled the blanket more tightly around myself. I needed help, so much more than I’d ever realized. Deep waves of exhaustion washed over me from being afraid and terrorized for so long. “Mrs. Braverman is convinced my father is the one who’s keeping her here. She basically thinks he’s framed her so she’ll be earthbound.”
Nick’s eyebrows shot up, and those deep grooves returned to his forehead. “For what reason?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to know either. She says she’s innocent of whatever crimes she’s performing dominion service for and says my dad is a bad man who wants to keep her from her final transfer.” My discussion with Mom and Dad earlier in the day hadn’t lifted any of the heavy weight I carried, but telling Nick about Clara’s accusations did.
“And you believe her?” He was studying me carefully.
“I don’t know anymore. He’s been so secretive, and I got somewhat of an explanation today, but…” I realized I still wasn’t convinced about my parents’ motivation for secrecy, and that hurt.
“But?”
“I feel like there’s still a lot I don’t know, a lot they’re hiding.” I’d wanted today to make me sure of them again, but it hadn’t. This might be the jumping point for healing between us, or it might be more deception. My heart ached at the knowledge that I couldn’t tell the difference. “Could this be one of the things he doesn’t want me to know? I don’t believe my dad is the evil leader of a dark empire, but what am I supposed to think right now?”
“How can I help?”
I noticed but didn’t mention that he wasn’t denying this theory as a possibility. “Can you find out why Clara is still here? It’s the only way I’ll be able to figure out what’s real, and it might get her to leave me alone if I can give her something concrete.”
If Clara hadn’t attacked me, I probably could have carried her visits myself, only having Sloane and Macy aware of what was happening. I reached to my neck where her hands had wrapped around it and felt the resulting hypothermic-level cold that made a knot in my throat. The deep, freezing pain was as real as it had been the night she assaulted me, and when I closed my eyes, my head thrummed as if Mrs. Braverman was there, slamming it against the wall. I opened my eyes to escape the feelings and images in my head and saw Nick staring at me with concern.
“I’ll do my very best,” he said. “You have my word.”
I slumped a little. Now that I’d shared this information, I felt drained, more tired than I’d ever been. Carrying the secret had worn on me more than I’d realized. I yawned, and a sleepy growl came out of my mouth.
Nick chuckled. “Rest. Let me come up with a game plan, and we will get this figured out.”
I put my head back on my pillow, and when I closed my eyes, I forced myself to focus my thoughts on happy things that had nothing to do with ghosts, demons, or AfterCorps. I imagined sitting in my basement with Macy, a bunch of snacks between us and one of our terrible movies on TV. I envisioned myself onstage in front of thousands of people, singing and dancing to the cheers of the audience. Finally, as I began to drift off to sleep, I thought of Sloane’s fingers intertwined with mine.
* * *
The next day, Nick stepped out of my room while the nurse went over my discharge paperwork and unhooked my IV. I had just dressed in my T-shirt and jeans when I heard a knock at the door.
“You can come on in, Nick,” I called.
The door opened, but it was Macy who walked in. I’d never been so happy to see my best friend. My time in the hospital had forced me to think of nothing but my current terrifying situation, and Macy was just the person to counterbalance that. Not only was she the most trustworthy and loyal person I’d ever known, she was also…normal, and just being around her made me feel more normal too.
“Nick was on his cell, but he motioned like I could come in. Do you think he’ll let me take you home?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m kind of on lockdown at the moment; the mature interpreters are taking turns babysitting me.”
“I know.” When I arched an eyebrow, she shrugged. “Sloane filled me in.”
“You two have been talking?” Now both my eyebrows were flexed toward the ceiling. I was surprised they’d gotten close and glad they’d had each other to lean on.
“We’ve been worried about you.”
“Yeah. I’ve been worried about me too.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Physically? Lots better. Still a little sluggish, but another day or two of rest, and it’ll be like it never happened as far as my body is concerned. But mentally?” I shook my head. “I’m not really sure how I’m going to get past this.” My headache hadn’t completely gone away, and there were times it throbbed so badly that it felt as if pain was all that existed. Those moments were becoming more spread apart, though, and the doctors anticipated that they’d stop entirely in the next week. The physical pain was nothing compared to my constant fear that nobody really knew why Clara Braverman was able to talk to me or how to keep me safe from her or any other entity that wanted to harm me.
I’d spent my time in the hospital being numb to what had happened. I’d had strong reactions to discovering my family’s history with AfterCorps and the fact that my parents had kept yet another secret from me, but as to what I’d been through—what Clara had put me through—it seemed too much to try to process. But now, with my regular clothes on, preparing to go home and looking into the concerned eyes of my best friend, the reality of it all was starting to flood through me.
“I’m so scared,” I said. It was true, but it was also incomplete. My feelings were so vast and deep, I was afraid I might begin to drown in them.
I’d become accustomed to fear that embodied extreme cold, like ice water flowing through my veins or like Clara’s deadly grip on my flesh. The new emotion I’d had since waking up this morning was hot. I thought about Mrs. Braverman reaching into me, my being seized with pain and darkness, and my extremities felt hot. The tops of my ears and tips of my fingers and toes burned as if they were being held too close to an open flame. It was a fear born of the knowledge that these events could have been prevented if my parents had chosen, at any point in the last twenty-two years, to tell me the truth about my life. I’d been frightened plenty of times in my life, but that feeling was mixed with
another unfamiliar, complex emotion: betrayal.
“What is it?” Macy asked.
“I don’t want to go home with my parents,” I said. “I can’t trust them. But I can’t be without them either. I can’t risk going through that again without their protection, but how can I depend on safety from people who’ve let me be so vulnerable?” The reality that my parents had let me down so tremendously that I felt they couldn’t keep me safe was devastating. I was beginning to mourn for my relationship with them and feared it would never recover from all of their lies and secrets and misguided efforts.
Macy considered this. “What about Sloane? She’s another interpreter, and her mom is experienced, right?”
“Yeah. I don’t know if I can ask that of her, though. It would be one thing if Sloane and I had been dating longer and she lived alone, but we haven’t fully established what we are to each other. For God’s sake, we’ve been on one date, and you know how that ended. And I don’t know how her mom would react to it.” I hated that I had become a burden to the people I cared about most. In that moment, I would have run away if I’d thought I could survive on my own. Shit. I couldn’t survive on my own, and it gutted me. I went from feeling too full from fear and panic and frustration, to feeling completely and utterly empty.
“There’s one way to find out. Wait, what about Nick?”
“What about Nick?” We turned toward the door. He had entered the room without our hearing him.
“Uh, nothing,” I said, but Macy was determined.
“Aria doesn’t feel comfortable with her parents right now, but she needs to be with an interpreter who can protect her, right? Do you have a couch she can crash on?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly, glancing at Macy with what I hoped was a healthy dose of side-eye. I was embarrassed that she was imposing on him and upset that it truly was my best option. “Really.”