Keeper of the Innocents

by Kristy Centeno

  Talk about a complete and utter moment of weakness. If there was ever a time when I should have felt disgusted with my inability to fight back, this would be it.

  I didn’t even know what I wanted. Or why I hesitated, for that matter.

  When his lips became more demanding, his tongue invading my mouth, delving inside as if it was searching for something, I grew even more confused. Wasn’t he supposed to be looking for a way to kill me? To get rid of me? Was he playing some cruel, vindictive joke on me by pressing his hot lips to mine? Was this part of some twisted plan to finish me off?

  Even when it did occur to me that he could very well be planning something bad, I was almost convinced that if he really wanted me dead I’d be long gone. It was stupid of me to believe this with so much conviction, but I did.

  My mother had trained me better than this. She had taught me never to trust a demon, but my gut instincts told me he wouldn’t kill me. That if he had intended to, I would be dead already. So, for the first time ever, I opted to listen to what my instincts told me as opposed to what my mother had struggled for years to teach me.

  In spite of my reserves, I found myself responding. I really couldn’t help it. It felt good. He felt good. Too good. And even though I knew my situation wasn’t exactly the best, all coherent thought fled as quickly as they’d crossed my mind.

  My lips moved in tune with his, giving him easy access to the corners of my mouth as his tongue slipped inside over and over again. By this point I was fairly sure my entire blood supply had turned into molten lava and coursed through my body in a wave of fire. I felt hot and achy all over and the sensation only increased as he deepened the kiss. I moaned, the sound drowned by demon boy’s own groan of what I could only assume was either satisfaction or pleasure or hopefully both.

  Finding time to admire my companion’s kissing skills was cut short when something really strange began to take place. At first, I wasn’t sure what was going on, but as image after image began to flood my mind, I realized my ultra-sensitive sixth sense was kicking up after remaining dormant for two long years.

  I discovered my ability to see into a person’s past or future very early in my life. This talent had been both a blessing and a curse for me. I’d been able to save and help save many lives because of this gift, but I’d also seen aspects of people’s lives that really made me want to cut my hands off. The visions usually occurred when I came in full physical contact with someone. A light tap on the shoulder or graze wasn’t enough to trigger a vision way back when.

  My ability lasted for many years, but they had stopped abruptly one cold December night about two years ago and hadn’t returned until now. The reason for this disaster? A battle with three shifter demons in which I received a bad blow to the back of my head that erased not only much of the actual fight itself, but had left me virtually incapacitated. If it hadn’t been for Mom showing up, I would have died.

  Since that night my visions had remained inactive. No longer helping me crack cases or aiding my search for a demon on the prowl. And though I’d tried to rely on them, hoping that if I believed hard enough they would come back, they never did. Although I’d battled to stay alive then, losing my gift to see into the future and past was the worst blow I’d received. To make matters worse, most of that night had been wiped out by the blow to my head.

  As these new images flooded my brain, I realized the reason I couldn’t tell what was going on at first was because I’d all but forgotten what it felt like to receive vision memories from someone else. It had been so long since I last received a vision, the sensation was almost foreign now. Distant. Alien-like.

  When the first image invaded my mind, I could have sworn time stopped. That I was losing my grip on reality. It was so powerful that I immediately tried to push it out. I no longer felt capable of sharing someone else’s memories, especially when I was unprepared to receive and analyze what I was seeing, but I had no control in the situation.

  Demon boy was willingly showing me things he obviously wanted me to see, and although I could barely control the spasms that took over my body, I allowed the images to keep coming because I knew they were important and I needed to see what was being showed to me. Unfortunately, the pain I began to experience grew progressively worse as flashes of images rushed through my head, invading my brain and providing details of his short life. For even though I had yet to ask him, I could already tell he wasn’t that much older than me.

  In mere seconds, I was taking in bits and pieces of demon boy’s life, including memories of him living in apartment 4B with his human mother. I could see his mother, a pretty young woman with long blonde hair and green eyes constantly moving from place to place to hide her son from hunters. I wasn’t exactly sure what kind of hunters she hid him from, whether human or demonic.

  Every day was a struggle for them both. Even when I’d never known the woman on a personal level, I could clearly tell how mentally exhausted she was. Constantly battling the unknown, running from danger, protecting her offspring had taken its toll on her.

  The visions weren’t a hundred percent clear, though. As much as I tried to see every single detail of what was locked in demon boy’s head, the images kept breaking up. One moment he was outside, playing on the swings with his mother standing behind him, nudging his back slightly to keep him moving forward, and the next, they were frantically running down an alley with at least three pairs of glowing yellow eyes following closely behind. One moment he was lying on the bed with his mother sitting on the mattress reading a book to him and the next, their house was being invaded by shifter demons. One moment they were contentedly sharing a meal at the dinner table and the next, he was cradling his mother’s unconscious body in his arms.

  I had no idea who this guy was or what his story entailed exactly, but it was obvious to me that demons knew about him and for some reason had chased his mother and him around enough that he was virtually drained.

  It was all there for me to see: the pain, anger, fear, humiliation, and pure exhaustion. He had grown tired of running. Of hiding. All he wanted was to be normal. To have a normal life. It was all his mother wanted for him, too.

  I could totally relate to how he felt, which was scary. We had more in common than I wanted to admit.

  By the time he tore his lips from mine I had a pretty good picture of what he’d gone through. But I still couldn’t bring myself to trust him wholly. In a way, it felt as if he’d poured his heart and soul out to me through that kiss. But something really nagged at my brain.

  Releasing my hands, demon boy sat up, giving me no chance to ask what was at the back of my head, desperate to break free. Instead, I watched as he extended his left arm behind him and made some weird hand motion that forced my dagger to fly across the room—where it had landed during our brief struggle— and land safely on my chest.

  “Pick it up,” he commanded, using a not so friendly tone.

  I had no idea what was coursing through his head or what he wanted me to do with the dagger. He seemed determined. To do what? I had no clue. Nevertheless, I grabbed the dagger and looked up at him expectantly. Was he going to try something now? Was he going to give me a reason to use the dagger?

  He responded to my unspoken questions by grabbing a hold of my wrist and aiming the dagger clutched in my hand straight at his heart.

  “If you really want to get rid of me, now is your chance.” Something about the way he stared down at me told me he was dead serious. “One quick stab through the heart should do it.” He allowed his hands to drop to his sides, letting me know he had no intention of fighting back.

  He wasn’t kidding. He had every intention of allowing me to kill him if I so wanted. I could clearly see it in his face. He was through.

  “Are you out of your mind?” I couldn’t believe what he was asking. I mean, I realized this was the perfect opportunity to make sure he would never be a threat to anyone, ever. But killing him without a motive? I wasn’t a killer. Granted, he
wasn’t human, so it could hardly be considered murder in the first place, but he wasn’t entirely demonic either, which complicated things. But wouldn’t I become a murderer if I just stabbed straight through his heart for no reason other than I didn’t trust him? That wasn’t a good enough motive.

  Each and every demon I killed were cold blooded killers. They took innocent lives in order to satisfy some deep evil urge or purpose. They weren’t human either, which made things easier. Vanquishing them was liberating. Nothing about my current predicament felt liberating. I felt trapped. Unsure. Uncertain. Scared.

  Had he showed me all those images to gain my sympathy? Was that the real reason behind his kiss? Had he known all along what I would see and how I would feel about it? Had he predicted and persuaded my human nature by playing with my emotions?

  “You would be doing me a favor.” It almost sounded as if he was pleading for me to put him out of his misery. I could almost feel his desperation. He wanted to die.

  “How did you figure that one out?” I asked curiously.

  “You said it yourself, remember? It’s in my nature to hurt people.”

  I stared at his handsome face in silence for about a minute, trying to figure out what was going through his head, but I was no mind reader. “Have you hurt anyone?”

  “Does it matter if I say no? Will you even believe me?”

  Of course I couldn’t believe him. He was half demon.

  Snatching the dagger back, I pushed on the wall of his chest with my other hand. “Get off me!” I demanded a little angrily. “I will decide when and how to end your existence. Not you.”

  The nerve of him to tell me what he thought I should do. Wasn’t it enough that he’d put me in this freakishly weird situation? How could he wreak havoc on my life like this? Even though I was livid, I was also relieved when he scrambled off of me and sat on the floor with his knees folded up to his chest and his back pressed against the couch.

  “Isn’t it your job to destroy evil?” He glared at me as if he resented the fact that I couldn’t kill him. Or chose not to. By this point I wasn’t sure which one was closer to the truth. “I’m part evil.”

  “I haven’t decided what to do with you yet.” I sat up, folded my legs, and reached out for his arm. “Give me your hand.”

  He stared at me in silence for a moment, but eventually relented. Slipping his big pale hand in mine, he sat back and watched as I dipped the tip of the dagger in his index finger. His nostrils flared a little but other than that he didn’t react as a few drops of red blood surfaced after I removed the blade. A soft hissing sound escaped from the tiny wound along with a small column of gray smoke, which once again served to confirm his origins.

  I let go of his arm and watched as he pulled it back toward his body and fisted his hand a few times as if willing the pain to subside. I wasn’t a demon but I was pretty sure getting cut by my dagger hurt like hell. It packed one hell of a punch I never wanted to be on the receiving end of.

  “Do you have healing ability?” I asked as he opened his hand and glanced down.

  His response to my question was to show me the area where my dagger had sliced through his forearm moments before. The five inch gash was almost completely sealed and was no longer red or puffy.

  “Yes, but it still stings badly,” he replied after a moment.

  I shrugged. “It couldn’t be helped. I needed to know.”

  “So now you know.” His voice carried a hint of annoyance but his expression revealed very little. He kept his gaze on his hand so I wasn’t too sure what might be going through his head.

  “Yes, I do.” I watched as he finally took his gaze off his hand and brought it up to meet mine. “What’s your name?”

  I should have gone. I should have fled back to the safety of my apartment where his saddened expression couldn’t evoke any empathy from me. But I didn’t run off. I stayed and watched his face closely, studying his very alluring features with interest.

  “Rhyzel.” He responded without hesitation. “I’m Rhyzel Connor.”

  “I’m Demi Redding.” I introduced myself finally, although the reason was totally lost on me. By all rights I shouldn’t have been trying to strike a conversation, but I found that I couldn’t stop myself.

  “I know who you are,” he announced.

  My eyebrows shot up. “You know who I am?”

  He nodded, keeping his gaze locked on me. “We’re neighbors, remember?”

  “Funny, I don’t know much about you.”

  His shoulders lifted. “Like everything else, that too, has an explanation.”

  “I’d like to hear it.”

  “My mother thought it best if I remained hidden so we really didn’t go out much, and when we did, it was either early in the morning or late at night.”

  It was hard for me to know exactly why, but I had the feeling he wasn’t lying.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “My mother said it was better if we avoided people as much as possible. She could hide me better that way.”

  I studied him, trying my best to read him. After a moment I determined he was either telling the truth or he was really good at lying.

  “I remember seeing you, or at least I think it was you. You were younger then.” My memories of that little boy I saw were vague, very vague.

  “I lived here for a while, but my mother sent me away a few years ago to live with a friend. I only recently moved back.”

  “Why’d she do that?”

  Rhyzel’s lips curved up at the ends. “Because of the pair of witches living next door.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Once Mom figured out what you were, she was sure it was only a matter of time before you found out about me. She was afraid for my life.”

  His words only served to heighten the mystery behind him. If his mother knew about us, did that mean she had some magical knowledge? In spite of being human? Most normal humans know nothing of the existence of the supernatural world. Those that do know—or suspect our existence, have no clue how much danger humanity is in on a day to day basis.

  “And you’re not afraid?” I asked.

  Rhyzel didn’t bother denying it. “What’s the point? I’ve been running away from those who wanted to kill me for so long I don’t have the will to even try to stop whatever is destined to be. If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to kill me. There’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

  Like I would believe that load. Nothing he could do? Yeah, right.

  Placing the dagger on my lap, I folded my arms over my chest and sighed. “It certainly looked to me as if you were planning something a little while ago.”

  Rhyzel scoffed. “If I had really tried something, you’d be hurt, bad.”

  What he said really bothered me. “Isn’t that overinflated ego of yours too heavy for you to carry around?”

  “What ego? I’m only stating a fact,” he responded, his entire face a mask of irritation.

  I decided to change the subject for the sake of our momentary truce. I wanted information out of him after all and annoying the fellow wouldn’t work to my advantage.

  “So we’ve been neighbors for a while now?” I watched him closely, trying to read any sign that would tell me he was lying. It was hard to tell. He wasn’t easy to read.

  “I’d say for about a week or so.”

  That would explain why I hadn’t sensed him before, but it also confirmed that we were connected somehow. He’d been back for a week and that’s when the dreams began and the sensation of being watched, too.

  “What do those demons want?” I raised the stakes. I knew it, but I wanted to know what the deal was. Or at the very least, see if he would open up a little.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” His upper lip curled up slightly.

  “Not to me.”

  He sighed heavily. “Me. They want me.”

  “Why?” I pried.

  “Because of who I am. Because of what I am.” He barked t
he response, apparently irritated either by my lack of comprehension or by the many questions slipping out of my mouth. “There’s no one else out there like me. Demons and humans are not supposed to…procreate. I’m an abomination. Even the rulers of the underworld believe I’m not worth the dirt they stand on.” There was so much conviction in his voice that I could barely hold his gaze as he glared back at me. His expression bared his resentment and I wasn’t quite sure how to take that.

  Although I couldn’t read his soul, it was easy for me to assume he wasn’t comfortable in his own skin. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a monster after all. Was I willing to believe that? Not just yet. It was too soon for me to make a definite opinion of him.

  “What demon fathered you?”

  “I don’t know.” He scrambled to his feet. “And I don’t want to know.”

  I followed his lead, popping to my feet as quickly as possible. “Rhyzel?”

  Running one hand over the strands of bronzed colored tips that fell over his eyebrows, he turned to look at me and glowered.

  “What?” He plopped onto the couch and reached for the remote control sitting next to the laptop on the coffee table.

  “How did you know?” I took the five steps that brought me to the couch.

  There was no mistaking the wariness I could see in his eyes. “Know what?”

  “What I would see? That I could see…something?”

  He knew what I meant right away. I could tell by the way he refused to meet my gaze. Up to that point he had maintained eye contact, but when he looked away I knew something was up.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his hand gripped the remote control so tightly his knuckles turned white. Even as I stared down at his hand, I was almost positive he wasn’t aware of just how much pressure he was putting in his fist. The control’s buttons looked like they were ready to pop out at any moment.

  He knew more about me than he wanted to let on. His reaction alone told me this.

  “You know exactly what I mean. You knew I’d be able to see into your past. How? How could you possibly know…” Something no one else knew. He didn’t make a split second decision to kiss me moments before. I was fairly certain he was hoping I would see into his past.