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Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

Page 130

by CK Dawn


  Eight

  At number sixteen Liam got his keys out.

  When we made it to number sixteen, I was in impressed that Dr. Griffin didn’t live in a dungeon. I always imagined her living somewhere really boring and dark.

  One thing was for sure he didn’t need the keys.

  The door we discovered was slightly ajar.

  “Wait here,” Liam warned me as he reached inside of his hunter green military style jacket and pulled out the white hilted engraved knife.

  “No,” I hissed, “are you insane?” I asked him, my eyes wide. There was no way I was waiting outside on the sidewalk alone.

  He just rolled his eyes and frowned at me, because he knew I would follow him anyway.

  Entering the townhouse I gasped at how immediately the atmosphere changed. Anxiety building in the pit of my stomach and I instantly knew something wasn’t right.

  Past the entryway threshold my fears were confirmed when we found overturned furniture scattered around a living room. There was a real struggle that went on, turning over the huge oak tables and leather couches and recliner that was in the room was not an easy feat for just anyone. I couldn’t imagine Dr. Griffin having the strength to do any of it.

  “Jill,” Liam called out in a worried voice.

  I started to ask him who Jill was, but then I remembered the name on the huge diplomas on the wall in the doctor’s office stated that her first name was Jillian.

  Liam strode quickly from room to room, with me trailing behind him finding no sign of the doctor, only more overturned furniture in some of the rooms.

  “I don’t think we are going to find her here,” I told him as we reached the last door down the upstairs hallway.

  He nodded his shoulders tense as he reached for the door handle because he was going to finish searching the home for her. Just as he was about to turn the knob the door burst open and a man with a low blonde ponytail dressed similarly to the men from my school, burst out of the door knife in hand.

  “The boy and girl are here,” he said into a cell phone nonchalantly as if we were no threat to him, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

  Liam’s body tensed up and I had a feeling he was upset about not being thought of as a threat to the man. He didn’t even wait for the man to hang up the cell phone as he attacked the man with his own knife.

  Liam jumped at the man with a punch in the face that sent him back into the room. The man’s jaw clenched and he threw the phone onto the floor shattering it into a hundred tiny pieces.

  “You’re a brave one boy,” the man hissed and dove for him knife ready.

  Liam moved fluidly as if he had been training for this his whole life. He dodged each blow that the tall blonde man threw at him countering with his own. The fight seemed to be a stalemate with a lot of blows and counterblows being dealt equally.

  For what seemed like forever nothing changed until Liam lost his footing and the blonde guy got the advantage and was able to disarm Liam.

  A moment of panic passed over me because the guy had his knife raised and was uttering the now familiar words that would end Liam’s soul forever.

  I glanced quickly around the room and found a discarded baseball bat leaning up against a dresser near the door where I had been frozen. Without considering the consequences, I picked it up and rushed behind him and swung the bat as I hard as I could and hit him the back of the head. After a moment he fell over landing on the floor next to Liam.

  My eyes were wide as I watched Liam let out a breath he had been holding and momentarily close his eyes in relief as he rubbed his hand across his face.

  “Is he dead?” I finally asked Liam as I stared at the unmoving man.

  “I don’t know,” Liam said as he stood from the floor, “but we aren’t going to wait and find out.”

  I looked at him confused.

  He picked up his fallen knife and handed it to me, “you are going to finish him off.”

  “What,” I stuttered confused, “I can’t do that.”

  “Yes, you can.” He said brushing his long black hair out of his face that was obviously desperate for a trim.

  “Uh, okay,” I said and reluctantly reached for the knife.

  “Look, you said you wanted to learn.”

  “I know,” and I put a determined look on my face. “What do I do?”

  He turned the man over, “just do what I tell you to.”

  I give a slight nod.

  “You want to stab him right in the heart,” he said pointing to the center of the man’s chest.

  “Like killing a vampire?” I asked dumbfounded.

  “He isn’t a vampire, they aren’t real,” Liam said and I could just imagine him rolling his eyes as I stared at the man’s face who was just sneering at us moments before, but looked perfectly peaceful now as if he were just sleeping and not about to have his soul banished to who knows where.

  “What is he then?” I asked curiously.

  “I couldn’t really tell you,” he said with a shrug, “he could be evil, good or maybe just a person doing their dirty work.”

  I swallowed not really caring for the idea of possibly killing a person.

  “Remember to hit him in the heart.”

  “Okay,” I mutter.

  “Repeat after me, and then when I tell you. Do it.”

  I don’t answer him.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yeah,” I said and gathered my resolve, “I’m ready,” I said louder than I had spoken for the last five minutes.

  I took a deep breath and knelt down beside the unconscious or dead man, maybe I had already killed him. With the knife gripped in between both of my hands I waited silently for his instructions.

  He spoke the strange words and while confused I repeated them the best I could.

  “Now,” he said.

  With my eyes clenched, but my aim sure, I stabbed him straight through the chest.

  “Holy crap,” I said as I stood and backed away from the body with the knife protruding through the center of the chest.

  With my breathing growing heavy because I realized I was in shock because of what I just did. I covered my eyes with my hands and refused to look at the body.

  “It’s okay,” Liam said plainly cutting through my grief.

  “What?” I asked, and glanced over as the body disappeared like Jonah’s did leaving the knife lying on the floor. I then turned to look over at Liam with wide eyes.

  “Just remember, he was going to kill you,” he said softly.

  “I know,” I told him, even if it didn’t make me feel better.

  Before anything else could happen, Liam was at a closet filling a backpack with clothing and the two knives we now had in our possession.

  “What now?” I asked him.

  “I get some things, and we get out of here before anyone else shows up.”

  I glanced around the room, and it dawned on me that this was actually his room. He lived with Dr. Griffin? I knew he acted familiar with the place, but didn’t realize he was that familiar.

  “Dr. Griffin, is my foster mother,” he explained aware of my curiosity as I glanced around.

  I just nodded, as he rushed around.

  Other than the mess caused by the fight, the untouched part of the room was neat and uniform. There were a few pictures and mementos from his youth on a dresser. A picture of a young Liam and very beautiful woman with the same hair and eyes that he had and then a picture of a slightly older pre-teen Liam with Dr. Griffin. And she was actually smiling, I would say that is what shocked me the most about the picture. The woman never smiled when I saw her.

  “Are you going to stare at my stuff all day or are you ready to go?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, “where are we going?”

  “To see a friend of Jill’s.”

  I followed him back into the parking garage, but instead of getting back on the motorcycle he unlocked the doors to the grey sedan owned by Dr. Griffin and told me to get i
nside.

  Nine

  We rode in silence to meet with Dr. Griffin’s friend, I was thankful for that and the relative smoothness of the ride. After the chaotic motorcycle rides and the death of the man just a short time before I needed peace and quiet.

  We stopped in front of a small deli in the museum district, it looked like the kind of place that was family owned.

  Liam tensed as he put the car in park and let a sigh. “Before we go in there is something that you should know,” he told me.

  “What?”

  “Maggie, Jill’s friend is like her.”

  “Um, okay,” I told him genuinely confused.

  “She’s old,” he said, “like really old,” he said reaching for the car door, “and in addition,” he muttered getting out of the car, “she isn’t my biggest fan.”

  “Oh, great,” I said with an eye roll. This couldn’t be good.

  I followed him into the deli and the smell of fresh baked bread almost knocked me over and I realized that I was starving. After having missed lunch at school and all of the running we had been doing it hit me at once. But I couldn't dwell on that and had to focus on the woman behind the glass case frowning at Liam.

  "What happened to her?" She asked a wrinkle marring her otherwise unblemished face.

  "I don't know," Liam told her.

  "Well boy, just what do you know?" She asked with a hint of a British accent coming through.

  Liam started to speak, but she held her hand up to stop him, and looked straight at me, "you," she said and rubbed her temples and muttered something to herself about getting a headache, "I wondered when you would show up," she said to me.

  "Excuse me?" I asked her confused.

  "Let's go sit in the back," she told us eyeing the customers that were filling the deli.

  We followed her through a door that said 'employees only' and down a hallway to what looked like a sitting room straight out of Victorian England.

  "Have a seat," she said motioning to a small couch with an ornate rose pattern. It was probably a hundred years old, but it looked like it had been well cared for.

  “My name is Maggie, what are you called right now?” She asked me.

  “Called?”

  Liam rolled his eyes, “her name is Amelia.”

  She ignored him and started speaking, "Amelia, in 1908 you lived in London," she said and looked over my appearance, "you had red hair then and weren't as scrawny."

  I opened my mouth to complain.

  "But even back then I could tell your soul had a rebellious streak."

  Dumbfounded over her saying the something about my weight, "my hair is red," was the only thing that I could get out.

  She laughed at either my discomfort or at what I had said, "out of a bottle," she said.

  I fumed, "I don't think I remember you," I told her finally.

  "Just close your eyes and try to remember."

  I had made a guy disappear in my psychiatrist's apartment with a knife and a chant just an hour before, so I decided that I could give whatever she wanted a try.

  "It's all sport to them," Elizabeth said for the hundredth time since we had arrived at the party. I sighed and glanced around at the group she was motioning to and rolled my eyes as one of them caught my eye and gave me a sly smile.

  "I'm sure you are right," I told her as I glanced over at the dance floor where Margot a grammar school friend of ours was celebrating her engagement. The party we were at was to celebrate her recent engagement. Her fiancé’s family was throwing it, but I wasn't sure I knew any of them. Whoever they were, they weren't sparing any expense for the party. They had the finest china out and greatest chefs straight out of France preparing a feast.

  "Did he just smile at you?" Elizabeth asked referring to the group.

  "I don't know," I said even though he had and I had been thoroughly disgusted by it. I was just tired of her complaining.

  Elizabeth had recently had an encounter with William one of the young men in the crowd who had made promises of marriage and the world. But once he had gotten what he wanted from her, he had moved on to the next available and richer socialite he could get. Now if anyone were to find out she would be considered damaged and none of the good families would want her to marry their son. She knew this so she kept quiet other than her complaints to me about how horrible the young man and his group of friends were.

  A waiter walked by and offered us more champagne, I accepted and looked on as the bride to be began to dance with her father.

  "You are not even listening to me," Elizabeth interrupted my watching.

  I just smile and take a drink of my champagne.

  "You're terrible," she snapped and I excuse myself and walked out into a garden.

  "You think this is all a crock too," a woman elegantly dressed in a black gown said to me. She wore more rings on her fingers than even the Queen ever wore. She had her blonde hair pulled into an intricate bun. I just stared at her, I had seen her around the society parties but wasn't sure who she was married to or her name, "it's okay, I'm throwing this party for my son and that dreadful girl, and I'm miserable too."

  I just smiled, and she motioned for me to have a seat, "my mother makes me come," I told her.

  "Ah, my mother did the same," she laughed, "it makes me glad I never had a daughter."

  "She wants me to find a good husband, but I told her I wanted to study more and be a teacher."

  "A very honorable profession for sure," she said wisely.

  I apologize, I told her remembering the name on the invitation, "but you're Lady Stafford?"

  "Yes, Miss. Read."

  "Oh hell," I said as I opened my eyes. "You look exactly the same, how is that possible?" I asked Maggie. "Did I pass out?" It seemed as if I had been having one of my dreams.

  "Welcome back, Amelia." She said smiling knowingly.

  "Thanks," was the only thing that my distracted mind could get out after the barrage of questions that I had just hurled at her.

  "You merely blinked."

  "It seemed like fifteen minutes or longer, you and I had a conversation at an engagement party."

  "Yes," she agreed.

  "But you look exactly the same," I repeated.

  "Yes, I do," she paused, "because I haven't aged in over five hundred years."

  "How?" It was all so confusing and everything they told me seemed to be running together.

  "I ascended and became a higher being," she looked far off towards an old painting of a man hanging across the room. "It's a choice you get to make, when you become aware of your soul and the fact that you will just be reborn over and over again."

  "Dr. Griffin too." It wasn't a question because I already knew the answer.

  "Yes."

  "What are you? Are you good?"

  She nodded.

  "What are you exactly?"

  "There is no simple word for it, the closest thing you would know would be angel.”

  “They technically that’s not accurate,” she frowned, “I’m just a higher being that fights on the side of protecting people.”

  “Wow,” new things just kept getting hurled at me, “but why?”

  “It was the choice I made, good or bad. So of course I chose good with all of the religious turmoil of the time."

  "Wow." I just sat stunned. She probably thought that it was the only word I knew.

  "I could either become an angel and protect the secret for good or one of those wretched war mongers and protect it for evil."

  "Why not let people know? They might could make better choices. Or something."

  "People never do," she sighed, "I can see Liam didn't tell you everything, but you know that throughout history there has always been a struggle between good and evil."

  "He may have said something," he did but I wanted to hear everything she had to say.

  "It has raged on for millennia and every time someone finds out that they are essentially reincarnated and live the same lives over an
d over again they have three choices:

  1. Join good and protect the secret.

  2. Join evil.

  3. Or die and start over.

  "But that's not happening anymore," I stated.

  "No, both sides fight," she shook her head, "so we jointly decided to send the souls of aware to purgatory permanently."

  I swallowed. It explained why the men kept coming after me. They were afraid I would talk to someone besides Liam.

  "You understand now."

  "Are the ones after me," I stopped for the right word, “what are they called?”

  “I call them demons, they might as well be,” she shook her head, “they just want to control people and to do that they have to get rid of my people,” she waved her hand, " but I would have to see them to know for sure." she answered, "they could be from either side. Neither side wants the other to gain more numbers in the event they begin to fight again."

  “Well, what about you?” I questioned her, “What side are you on?”

  It was a fair question since we were sitting there, and she had been on the side of good before.

  “If I sided with either of those groups, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

  “But,” I argued confused. She had to be on a side. “What side are you on?”

  “Jill and I are both neutral.” She told me, “For many years we were both considered good.”

  “Why aren’t you anymore?”

  She smirked, “I liked living the good life too much. And all of politics got old and well I believe in free will.”

  I smiled.

  “Besides you can only watch a woman live in the same abusive relationship so many times before you step in.”

  She reminded me of when I – no my past life met her in London. And embarrassed at the thought I looked down at the table in front of us.

  “In a sense we both stepped back because we didn’t like the way things are, so we help people like you and the boy keep your souls.”

  “There are more?” I wondered out loud. “Of us?” I looked at her.

  “Yes, there are many. And we just want you to keep quiet and keep your souls. One day the world might need you.”

 

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