Deamhan Chronicles, Books 1-5: Deamhan, Kei. Family Matters, Dark Curse, Maris. The Brotherhood Files, Ayden. Deamhan Minion

by Isaiyan Morrison

  “No. If we do leave, we must leave silently.”

  “No. They have to know that we aren't afraid of The Brotherhood and these vampires. We need to send the same message Silvanus sent to them back in London.” His eyes turned stark. “You know it must be done.” He walked back to the body of the bulkier male he'd killed earlier. He grabbed a fistful of hair and tilted the human's head back.

  He began to pull and I heard the sound of flesh tearing apart, followed by a loud snap. “We can't run from them forever.” He raised the human's severed head in the air. “Will you help me, Maris? Will you help me send the bodies of these two humans back to them in pieces?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  1910. Chicago

  Their dismemberment brought back the night I watched the Deamhan in Silvanus' sanctuary rip Adele limb from limb. However, against my desire, I helped Finley place each body part of our victims in large bags and he dropped them off in front of the tavern that he assumed was a local chapter of The Brotherhood.

  The following night we left New York by train and headed west for Chicago. We made our way into the cargo hold. There we returned to eating rats, which gave us enough sustenance for the travel. The train made multiple stops and each time we feared that we'd be seen. A week later we reached the city and waited until sunset to leave our cramped compartment until the next night where we would continue on another train to San Francisco. Yet the moment we arrived in Chicago, our plans changed.

  There wasn't any snow in this city. Instead cold, icy rain pelted our bodies as we stepped out of the train station and onto the city streets. It was quite unusual to be welcomed with it at this time of year. We walked into the central business district of downtown Chicago with our heads held back, glaring at the skyscrapers. The city looked like New York, only smaller. In the first few minutes, Finley had already eyed a potential meal but I had to stop him from repeating his actions from New York. We had to tread carefully because we didn't know if there were other Deamhan in the city.

  Finley struggled with the idea of ignoring the humans all around us. By now he believed that we didn't have to run whenever something drastic appeared. “We need to eat.” He didn't hide his thoughts—that were filled with revenge and murder—from me as we walked the streets, arm in arm. It plagued his mind more so than finding a place for us to sleep when the sun rose.

  “How many do you think we should kill just because we can?” I didn't want to mock him. Instead I wanted to understand his thought process. “For years I watched you lose control, and for what? Nothing has changed.”

  “Maybe now is the time to think about our future and to claim a place in this world, starting with this city.”

  “How do you suppose we go about that?”

  “We need a sanctuary.”

  “A sanctuary? Just you and me?”

  “And our offspring.”

  “You want to sire humans?”

  “Why not? Think about it.” He placed his hands on my shoulder. “Silvanus did it and he had a powerful sanctuary. They were able to stand up to Dorvo vampires. Maybe that's what we need, Maris. We're stronger in numbers.”

  “But they will still come.” I looked up again at the buildings and the raindrops continued to batter my face.

  “And that's why we should start immediately.”

  “So you want to start a new life in this city?”

  “If that is what it takes.”

  I buckled and reluctantly agreed to eat and stay a while longer. Later that night, we had found an old man on his way home from work. We followed him to his apartment and after Finley killed him, we stayed for a few days until his body began to smell. The following night Finley decided that it was best for us to see more of the city so again, we were on the move, scouring for another victim. Finley found an older gentleman whose thoughts he explored. He had just lost his wife and his kids in an accident and now lived alone in a huge, two-bedroom house. He planned on selling it and leaving the city for greener pastures.

  We followed him down a narrow back street, walking among humans. Street cars hustled by and newspaper stands stood on the corner of each city block. The sound of cheering from a building in front of us and on our left caught my attention. My mind moved away from the hunt and I approached a simple storefront with large stained windows.

  “Maris, what is it?” Finley followed me.

  A tall muscular human stood outside but just inside the doorway to protect himself from the rain.

  “It just humans drinking,” he whispered to me. “Let's go before we lose our meal.”

  “No, there's something else.” I looked to him. “I want to see what's going on inside.” I went to walk in but the human moved in front of me, blocking the entryway.

  “This isn't a place for a young lady like yourself,” he said to me.

  Any other time I would've easily pushed him out of my way, but I was so taken aback with the noise coming from inside that I had to question. “What's happening in there?”

  “None of your business. Now go home,” he said to me again.

  Finley stood behind me and he too became intrigued.

  “She your gal?” The male's eyes moved to him. “Take her home, boy.”

  He didn't say anything at first as he picked up on the same thoughts and noises that I did. “Let us in,” he said to the human male who didn't move.

  “I said go home. Don't make me tell ya’ again.”

  Finley grew tired of the male. He reached out, grabbing him by the neck, and pushed him aside. The human fell to the floor, flabbergasted at Finley's strength. He quickly stood to his feet, pulled back his sleeves, balled up his fists, and he took an abnormal stance that we'd never seen before.

  “If that's how you want it.” He began to bob back and forth. “Boy, I'm gonna’ teach you a little lesson in courtesy.”

  “I'm not a boy.” Finley eyed the man suspiciously. “And there's nothing I can learn from you.”

  The human's right hand moved forward to his face and Finley moved back. He punched at him again but this time Finley caught his fist and easily pushed him back. To our eyes, human movement looked slow and awkward. We were able to narrow our eyesight on the muscles underneath their skin before they flinched. Finley did just that and finally, realizing that he couldn't hit him, the human dropped his hands and began to breathe heavily.

  “You a pugilist or what?”

  “Pugilist?” Finley gave him a bewildered look.

  “Yeah. You know. A fisticuffs kind of guy?”

  He looked to me and I shrugged. “What do you mean?” he asked the human.

  “Boxing.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  The human moved aside. “Go on. Head on in. We're looking for more boys like yourself.”

  Finley took my hand and we walked in, seeing a flight of stairs heading to the basement. The closer we approached the area, the more aromas I managed to pick up: alcohol, human sweat, and most importantly, human blood. We descended down the stairs. A huge room packed full of humans came into view, standing around a square. In that square we saw two of them wearing brown shorts squaring off against each other. Their stances looked familiar to the stance of the man at the front door. They began to hit each other with the back of their fists and with each hit, the smell of blood became stronger.

  “Human fighting?” His eyes opened with excitement. I looked at him, seeing that he enjoyed the spectacle. I heard the man at the front door heading down the stairs and Finley turned back to look at him.

  “That's boxing,” he said to Finley. “You interested?”

  “Yes.” Finley returned his attention to the fighting. “I want to fight like that.”

  The male laughed. “Maybe when you get more experience.”

  “I don't need experience. How do I get in that square?”

  “You have sign up first and then they'll schedule you a fight,” he replied.

  I couldn't believe that Finley wanted to
participate in a human activity such as this. It was a waste of our time. Even I could handle the biggest human male in that room. I spoke in his mind. We need to eat and find a place to sleep.

  Instead of replying back to me through a thought, he spoke loud enough for the human to hear. “Maybe we can learn this so we can be prepared.”

  Prepared for what? And why aren't you answering me in your thoughts?

  He ignored my questions and returned back to the human. “I was able to take you without hurting myself. I can handle anything given to me. I want to be in that square—now.”

  The male's shoulders jumped up and down as he laughed. He then patted Finley on the shoulder. “I'll see what I can do.” He walked away. “But don't say I didn't warn you.” He disappeared into the crowd.

  “You're going to expose us,” I said to him.

  “I want to try this boxing,” Finley said.

  The human returned, smiling gleefully at Finley. “There's another new kid, a little older than you, that needs someone to fight tonight.”

  Without hesitating Finley replied, “I'll do it, now.”

  “Whoa, slow down. First you need new clothes. You can't get into the ring looking like that. It's against rules.” He looked around. “I'll find you some trousers and a place where you can dress.” He placed his arm around Finley and began to lead him away.

  The fear of being left alone filled me with urgency but Finley quickly smiled, silencing it. When he walked away I stood surrounded by food waiting to be eaten. I looked at the fight again, catching one of the humans taking a punch to his cheek then falling back onto the floor. The crowd cheered and the human who remained standing lifted his arms in triumph. I saw small wads of paper floating around and a pudgy, short human male enter the ring and announcing that the human, Abe ‘Slapjaw’ Williams, had won an amount of thirty American dollars.

  Minutes passed and Finley hadn't returned. The short, pudgy man appeared in the ring again. He raised his arms and the noise from the crowd immediately ceased. “We have a special event just for you!” he told the crowd. “A debut of a new fighter in town.” The crowd cheered as a young-looking male with a brown buzz cut entered the ring. “We have, to my right, our very own Jesse Starling!”

  The human raised his arms and flexed his muscles for the crowd. His attractive features caught my attention along with the fact that I didn't sense an ounce of fear emanating from him.

  “And to my left, making his debut; a young man with no fear. Finley!”

  The crowd booed as Finley entered the ring wearing brown shorts too big for his body. The pudgy man motioned for them to walk into the center of the ring. Using my Deamhan hearing, I heard their quick conversation discussing where to hit and where not to hit. They had seven minutes to knock each other out and if they couldn't, the crowd would decide the winner. Finley and his opponent stepped back and the human immediately left the ring. He signaled for them to start and they began.

  Jesse put his hands up and Finley slowly approached him. Jesse swung twice and both times he connected with the side of Finley's face. I covered my mouth, wondering why Finley didn't hit him back. The crowd cheered with each punch Jesse threw. He struck Finley harder and harder until finally, one blow made Finley stumble back. I screamed at Finley through his thoughts. Hit him back!

  That was the moment that Finley finally reacted.

  Mimicking Jesse's previous punches, Finley retaliated with one of his own. His fist met the side of Jesse's face and the human immediately fell back onto the ground. The crowd hushed, waiting for Jesse to move, but he didn't. The fat human stormed the ring and stood over Jesse.

  He looked up slowly at Finley. “Damn, kid. Did you have to hit him that hard?”

  “I thought that was the purpose behind this,” Finley replied back, “to knock your opponent out? That is what I did.”

  The fat, short human smiled at Finley. “Folks, we have a winner.” He raised Finley's hands into the air and the crowd, still amazed, remained quieted.

  I pushed myself through the crowd and up to the ring. I watched the human place a wad of cash into Finley's hand. Fearing that Finley killed Jesse, I quickly glanced over the boy to find him still alive but unconscious. Finley walked over to me and handed me the money.

  “Kid! Kid! Where'd you learn how to hit like that?” the pudgy man asked in a quick voice.

  “For the last time, I'm not a kid,” Finley said.

  “It's just a figure of speech,” the pudgy man replied. “Where you from?”

  “London.”

  “London?” His eyes scoured Finley. “You don't have an accent.”

  “Do I need an accent to be from London?”

  “Fine. Whatever. Come back tomorrow we'll have a fight lined up for you.”

  I didn't want Finley to do it, so I tried to answer for him, but he interrupted me. “I will return to fight, but only at night.”

  “These fights are held only at night.”

  “And I want to fight older people; stronger people like that man who won before I fought.”

  “Slapjaw?” The human shook his head. “That's impossible. He's way out of your league.” He slapped Finley on the chest, a weird human behavior trait. “Just come back tomorrow around this time. I promise you, I will get you in that ring.”

  Finley nodded. The crowd parted for us as we walked back toward the stairs. The humans eyed us and some congratulated Finley by slapping him on his arm and his shoulders. We reached the stairs and I eyed the money in our possession, not knowing what to do with it.

  The human we met at the front door approached us and he handed Finley's clothes back to him. “Damn, you're good,” he said.

  I held out the money to him. “How much is this?”

  He took a quick look. “Twenty dollars,” he said.

  “Where can we find a place to stay for this amount?” Finley asked.

  “There's a place, Wilshire Hotel, just down the street,” he replied. “A little too Italian for my taste but that's the closest place from here.”

  Finley and I walked up the steps and toward the door. The rain had let up and the air was filled with the smell of dampness. Finley looked to me as he began to dress himself quickly. He took his boxing trousers and placed them over his shoulder. “I learned a lot from that fight,” he said. “There's a pattern to their movements. It's like listening to certain keys on a piano.” He moved forward. “That human boy used all his energy in each punch he threw at me. I wanted to see how many I could take before it had an effect.”

  “Are we purchasing a place to stay with that money?” I asked him.

  “We can use money like this to buy a building for our sanctuary.” He looked back at me. “In no time we will have a place of our own here.”

  “So we're not leaving?”

  “No. I think I will like it here,” he answered. “In the years since we left London, I've realized that money equals power among humans. We used most of the money Silvanus gave us in New York. If I can get more of this, then we can buy our own huge home, and we can have Deamhan like ourselves live in it.”

  “So you're going to fight humans? For how long?” Deep down, I knew his answer to my question.

  “For as long as it takes.” He opened the front door and we walked outside. “They will give me more of this money, I'm sure of it. And you know I won't lose.”

  I urged him to continue to walk, reminding him of the importance of blood. His new feelings toward how we had to survive changed overnight. I didn't want a sanctuary and I didn't want him to sire humans. However, with the possibility that The Brotherhood and the vampires had followed us to Chicago, I didn't have a strong opinion in the matter. If our survival meant that Finley had to earn money by using his fists, then I promised him I wouldn't stand in his way for now.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jesse

  Every night thereafter, Finley fought. The first night he had only one human opponent, but as time progressed, he fought two, th
ree, sometimes four a night. Known as the “Raging Kid,” he fought humans five—sometimes ten—years his senior. The crowds loved his lack of fear, and soon they referred to him as the boxer who could take the punch of any adult man.

  The money continued to flow and for the first time in our lives, we had so much of it that buying a home for our own sanctuary became a real possibility. In the beginning I cheered his exploits and I promised him I'd never miss a fight. I did this to shut out the doubts I still had about remaining in Chicago.

  The more we moved away from doing the evil things Deamhan did, the more we seemed to embrace the ever changing human world. No longer did we have to track our victims, kill them, then lounge in their homes for days. We now had a home of our own and lavish at that! Instead, the human women threw themselves at him and he'd chose one, maybe three, to eat after his fights. This wasn't typical Deamhan behavior, but what was? Silvanus had money and power and how easy it was to obtain our own status. Still, there were things that, no matter what we did, couldn't change the fact that we were what we were, so to say.

  He still believed he loved me, but I knew better. He bought expensive things and I wore expensive clothes. He found the best makeup on the market and said it would cover my scar to the point that even I would forget about it being there. Humans who constantly bet and made money off him invited us to parties where I chattered with women about the right to vote and other human things that didn't affect me in any way. We pretended to be a young human couple and we showed our affection toward each other in human ways like hugging and kissing. Tired of my appearance, I dyed my hair brown then quickly changed it back. He even urged me to practice walking in shoes appropriate for women out on the town so that I could blend in more.

  He became the main attraction and humans from across the city came to see his boxing matches. As his popularity grew, so did my concern that the vampires and The Brotherhood would quickly follow. When I finally mentioned my distress to him, he reassured me that we had nothing to worry about and he'd hand me money so that I could go to the nearest shop and buy the latest fashions all the way from Paris.