If they had been his own kind Michael would have understood what was happening, but to see it play out with human actors felt… wrong somehow. The street was not terribly popular for pedestrians, but cars hurtled past taking the chance for a shortcut around a more congested freeway or screeching into the parking structure to be left behind while the drivers shopped. Michael saw the moment the man made his choice.
Tires screeched, then a crunching thump and the sound of crumpling steel from somewhere behind him as the pickup swerved to avoid them and ran over the curb on the swing back. Michael crouched on the curb, clutching the girl safely out of traffic. The young man took one look with terrified eyes and bolted down the sidewalk.
“Holy gods, are you ok!”
“Hey, is that kid ok? I never saw anyone move that fast, man! That was amazing!”
“Where’d that guy go? He totally pushed her! Someone call the police!”
People came rushing out of the shop nearby to mill about and gossip. A few ran over to the pickup truck to help the dazed driver out and onto the sidewalk. Michael looked down at the small face staring with wide, serious hazel eyes back up at him.
“He really did it, didn’t he? My uncle tried to kill me. I didn’t think he really meant it.” She whispered.
Michael knew nothing about comforting human children, so he merely nodded and stood her gently back on her own feet. She clung to his arm, seeking comfort he simply did not know how to give.
A woman crouched beside them, long dark hair pulled back in a loose braid, skirt trailing behind her. She reached out to wrap her arm over the child’s shoulders, rub the child’s back, and glanced up at Michael.
“I saw what happened. All of it. Thank you.” She said. “How is your hip? It looked like that truck hit you pretty hard.” Michael met her gaze, unblinking.
“We are both uninjured. No doubt she would be more comfortable with you at the Temple while this is all sorted out. I expect you know where you can find me should you need to” He stood, looking down at the girl who still held his sleeve, and attempted to smile kindly— an expression he had spent time practicing in a mirror. “This woman is a Priestess. She will take care of you now.”
The girl looked up at him, dragging her hand across her grimy face.
“Thank you for saving me.” She said, her voice small but strong. He had simply nodded and walked away.
The voice was so familiar, and it was calling to him. The world was coming back into focus, bringing more awareness. A hand rested on his shoulder, cooling that blaze at least. His side still ached, but that pain was fading too, though slower. Only his back still burned, pulsing liquid fire with each heartbeat.
“Michael, please wake up. I absolutely refuse to let you die like this, you bastard demon. Wake up!” May poured another dribble down his throat. Blood. Michael groaned and rolled to his side, away from her.
“What in the name of the five great torments do you think you’re doing?” The fire blazed through his shoulder again as soon as her hand slid away, but he gritted his teeth against it. And the pain across his back as well. “Besides creating a new one, I mean.” He unleashed a steady stream of curses in a language she didn’t speak, but his meaning was still entirely clear.
“Saving your life, I hope. Foul language won’t earn you any points.”
Michael just groaned and tried to sit up. There was nothing right about this. Everything was wrong. And painful. He looked around, trying to figure out where they were. Still in the warehouse— the brick wall near his side of the small room told him that much. A storeroom, maybe?
“How did we get in here?”
“I dragged you. I figured lying there in a puddle of hound ichor couldn’t be healthy, especially with open wounds.” She said, sitting back on her heels by the far wall. “Don’t worry, I went back made a huge mess after to disguise the drag marks in case anyone comes to look, not that I expect you care really. I also did a quick purification out there to get that ball rolling, but I’m almost tapped out, power-wise, so I hope we can get out of here without any more trouble. What happened to your girlfriend, anyway?”
“My what?” Michael’s world was swimming; it was hard to hear her words over the memories still mingling with his present, and the agonizing pain in his back was not helping him focus. He managed to prop himself up against the wall near the door, the cold, rough bricks felt amazingly good against his blazing hot skin. He realized that May had cut off what was left of his shirt to make bandages for his side where the giant teeth had sunk in. Between that and the tooth based damage to his slacks he thought he might be lucky not to leave here naked.
“That woman. The demoness. Belit.”
“Ah. Still sleeping off whatever it was she tried to drug me with, I imagine.” He took an experimental breath and some of the ache in his side eased. He explored the area gingerly with his fingers and found the wounds already healing. His eyes narrowed. “May…”
“Wait, she tried to drug you?” Outrage painted her face.
“May.” Michael was not about to let her derail him now that he realized a few things. She met his eyes and something she saw there slowed her rant.
“What have you done, May?”
“Nothing terrible. I did some reading while we were at the library.” May looked away from him. “About High Demons and so on, you know. I figured I should do some research, what with all of this, and everything. I drew some conclusions.” He watched her twist her fingers together in her lap.
“And you learned a great deal I can see. Quite the scholar, aren’t you?” He glanced down at the floor between them. There was a dusty coffee mug sitting there, still half full of a thick, congealing liquid. May was still avoiding his eyes.
“You should finish that. It’s good for you, after all. In theory.” She said, still not looking at him.
“And where did it come from, May?” He kept his voice steady. She just sat there opposite him, hugging herself, knees pulled up to her chin. Michael saw the bandage on her injured wrist was awkwardly wrapped and darkening slightly along the back of her arm. She noticed him looking and shifted, to hide it.
“Don’t waste it.” She said, nodding at the cup on the floor between them.
“Do you realize that thanks to you in the space of five days I have had to behave more like a demon than I have in the whole of the rest of my time here in this realm?” Michael growled. He wasn’t sure if he was furious or relieved or something else. Impressed was certainly a factor, however. A wounded and half-disoriented demon was crouched there, glaring at her and she simply sat, waiting for his next move.
He finally reached out to pick the cup up off the floor and after another moment drained it in one long gulp. May watched him silently. He put the cup back down between them, ignoring the shriek fire that raged though his veins and the acid that screamed again across his spine, and started unwrapping the makeshift bandage.
“Don’t do that, it’ll start bleeding again!” She started to reach out and stopped abruptly when he pulled the cloth away to show her his red, freshly scarred but clearly healed skin underneath. He raised his eyebrows at her.
“I think I want to see that book you were reading. I may have some notes to add to it for future scholars.” He said. May sat back and watched him finish unwinding the strips of shirt. He wrapped them up into a ball and used them to wipe away the rest of the blood. He could tell that she was genuinely shocked that he was whole again so soon. The silence of the warehouse settled over them as he cleaned up, disturbed only by the distant sounds of the rain. The soul chilling cold that seeped out of the hounds’ corpses was mitigated by the thick wooden door that closed them into this small room. Possibly it was dripping down into the river to be purified by the running water and the cleansing rain. Michael stretched, rolling his shoulders. The fire from his Mark had been asserting itself and he wondered if it was just something he’d have to live with now. The sensations crawling across his back were another issue, and
he hoped that at least would ease soon. Finally he took a deep breath and tossed the wad of bloody rags into a corner.
“Well, I knew that being your Guardian would prove interesting. I simply hadn’t realize quite how interesting.” He said, finally breaking the quiet that had settled over the room.
“Why? I need to know.” May asked, her voice quiet and tired. Michael sighed.
“Why would I accept this?” He gestured at his Guardian’s Mark, then around at her and the warehouse and managed somehow to include Paula and Lee and his apartment and everything. He laughed quietly and rubbed his shoulder where the Mark still burned him. He wondered if that was normal and made a note to discuss it with Lee. He looked at May, huddled in on herself, afraid of hearing his answer but more afraid of not knowing. He knew she could still sense James’ spirit faintly, and that made her uncomfortable. There wasn’t much Michael could do about that, but he could at least try to explain himself to her a bit, why he’d felt drawn to her in the first place. She deserved a chance to understand that a little as well.
“Do you know how old I am?” He asked finally. She shook her head.
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” She protested. “You seem a bit older than I am, I guess. Maybe thirty-five? Demons seem to age slower, so it’s hard to tell.”
“You could say that, I suppose. We have a rather different lifespan than humans do. I am one hundred ninety four years old.” May’s eyes widened. Michael almost smiled. “I fled from my clan due to the machinations of my elder brother and his cronies when I was in my eighty seventh year.” He gave her a moment to let her absorb that. “They couldn’t imagine that I wasn’t plotting against them all somehow, so Uruk arranged it for me to take the blame for a fairly trivial thing that set the appropriate machinery in motion and after the attempt on my life— which really was very sloppy I have to say— I realized that I had to disappear if I wanted to live because he would simply try again and again. So I left.” May stared at him.
“Your brother?”
“Demons aren’t exactly encouraged to develop ties based solely on blood. Political relationships are much more powerful and well regarded.” Michael pointed out. “At any rate, my point is this: I could have simply responded in kind and had him killed instead, but I chose not to. I left under circumstances that indicated my exit, but not under any particular duress. I have spent more than half my life here, in the Human Realm. Amongst humans. Pretending as best as I can to be human, at least in public, as bad as I am at that charade. This is far more my home than that place was.”
“But—“
“No. I know the arguments you want to make. Think of it like this,” he sat back against the cool brick wall and flexed his shoulders again, the fire having mostly died back to a throbbing ache spread across his back. “I know you drink your coffee with milk in it. Can you take the milk back out once you’ve poured it in? Of course not. Similarly I can’t simply ignore the time I have lived here, it is part of who I am.” He gestured to himself. “This face looks strange to me now, and when Belit spoke to me I had to consciously remember how to respond to the name I was once given. I was born a demon, but I have tried to live as a human, and now I have the responsibilities and power of a Temple Guardian. I no longer know what I am.” He leaned his head back, sighing, and tried to calm the wild power that was raging through him. It was taking more of his concentration now, and he was beginning to worry.
“But why, Michael? Why would you revert to behaving like a demon? I can’t understand why James’ soul was so tempting to you that you would break your own habits, take on all this fighting and— and me— that you would do that? After so long, why was his soul so precious?”
“I didn’t take his soul. I only touched it enough for him to give me this.” Michael ran a finger over his Mark which glittered on his inhuman form. “James’ soul is wherever it is souls go when they start their next journey. No, that wasn’t what he offered.”
“But… you said he offered you something precious.” May wrapped her arms around herself. Michael huffed out a soft laugh.
“He did. Something I didn’t even know I wanted so desperately, though in hindsight it’s fairly clear. He offered me a place, May. He offered me the chance for a home.”
He stood and reached out a hand to help May to her feet.
“Home? You mean your clan? I don’t understand…”
Michael shook his head. “Perhaps it’s too late in the day and there has been too much to absorb today for you to really understand what I am saying. However, I can promise you that I know that I will never return to the clan that merely housed me for a few years. I also know that tonight is far from over. Belit is awake and coming downstairs.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“She’s coming? Why’d she wake up? What do we do?” May’s eyes darted around, realizing that there was just the one door in the room. Michael reached out and caught her shoulders in both hands, holding her hazel eyes with his own inhuman black and red gaze.
“She knows we’re in here. There’s no avoiding that now. And panic will only get us both killed. Remember, May, this is exactly what you’ve been trained for. You even furthered your studies today, and you’ve done brilliantly, though I am going to insist that in the future we work on being absolutely certain that all our enemies are dead before we let down our guard. Perhaps remove their heads, just to be certain.” He felt her relax under his hands, her eyes losing that edge of panic that had been creeping over them. She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply as the door opened.
“Gibil. Have you an explanation for me?” Belit hissed.
“For your nap? Certainly. Your attempt to drug me was amateurish to say the least. I watched you mix your potion into my glass quite clearly, and instead chose to drink from yours.” Michael answered her over his shoulder. “As for your hounds, they didn’t much care for me. The feeling was mutual.”
“I see.” She stepped into the room, icing it over with her voice. “And what do you have there, the little human mouse that’s been creeping around this evening?”
“I’m his partner.” May said firmly, before Michael could answer.
“Your partner? A human? I suppose you have been here for some time, it is only reasonable that you would seek out some sort of amusement.” She paused, stepping into the room, “Or do you mean to tell me your tastes really lie that way, Gibil? Surely I am far more entertaining than a human. Although that explains why it followed you. Must have been disappointing to find out you were just an amusement.” She addressed May directly, dripping venom with her last words. Belit held her hand out to him, trying to salvage some shred of her plan.
“Don’t be crude, Belit. She meant partner. And I told you this afternoon, I am called Michael.” He spoke calmly and turned to face her and allowed a small smile to cross his face as watched her eyes fill with shock when they saw the Mark glittering on his shoulder, a visible proof of his oath to protect May and to help her protect the Human Realm from harm. Belit’s eyes darted between the pair, horror dawning.
“You… you are defending the humans? Even to the point working with the Temple against me?” Belit’s eyes bulged. “How it this even possible? How could you side with this vermin against your own people? Your own clan?”
“I made my choice some time ago, as it turns out. Realistically I have been defending them since shortly after I arrived here. It simply took your attempt to satisfy your ambition to reveal the obvious. The only question is what we do now. If you are lucky we will simply escort you to the gate and send you back to the Demon Realm.” Behind him May growled. “Though it seems my partner would prefer another option. Your hounds killed her family, and she is understandably upset with you.”
“You are a traitor to our clan! You value these humans and their weak sentimentality? I’ll rip away everything you hold precious, starting with this one!” She lunged at May, claws raised to strike. Michael roared in answer, th
e untamed power that May had unwittingly added to his own snarling free as his control slipped. Acid fire screamed across his back as wings ripped through his flesh reacting to the pure power that was surging through him. The sudden barrier between Belit and May took the brunt of the attack and the pain of injury in his new appendage as she thrashed to free herself. As Belit stumbled back, gaping, he pushed his pain back and rushed at her, smashing them both through the flimsy sheet rock wall and across the warehouse.
It had been far too long since he had fought a demon and his reactions were slow by comparison, but May’s gift of blood had done far more than simply heal his wounds and he held his own well enough. They fought wildly, Belit launching magic-based attacks as well as physical ones, Michael dodging and counterattacking while trying not to get tangled in his wings which tended to drag and flap randomly as he had only the vaguest ideas on how to control them.
They cannoned through the larger warehouse space, clashing and separating and crashing together again. Thick masonry crumbled and steel cages screamed as they collapsed under the assault of the battle. He gave the frustration and anger of the past three days free rein, and met Belit’s superior technique with his own raw power. It was almost enough to overwhelm her, but she had more experience— much of it recent— having sought out fights rather than attempting to avoid them. She found plenty of openings and opportunities and took brutal advantage. All of Michael’s attention had to be on Belit, so he could’t tell if May had managed to escape. He hoped so, as he was beginning to think that he could not win this fight. It had been too long and even as he called on it the power of a Guardian was still too new and strange to use adroitly, the power May gave him too wild to control, and the damned wings… He felt like a newborn foal when he tried to maneuver them.
Michael would fight until Belit killed him, and that would be the end of his time in this Realm. He was sorry for that. It was too brief a moment where he actually felt like he could be part of something in a way he had never been part of the clan that considered him such a strange disappointment, and he found he regretted that. A pity, but at least his life would not end with complete failure if May could get out and contact help.
A Demon's Duty (The Demon Guardian Trilogy Book 1) Page 13