My heart stuttered in my chest, and I quickly looked down at Michael. Our illusion shields could withstand anything—anything but death.
This was bad, this was beyond bad. The human police and EMTs would be here any second, if they weren’t already outside. They would see him for who he was—what he was. What the frak was I going to do?
I started to panic, but then an idea swirled into my head. Hell, it might even work; if it didn’t kill me in the process that is.
Dropping our illusions took quite a bit of effort and concentration, but trying to extend our illusions outward was a whole different story. Making humans not notice that something was there was a skill we all possessed to a certain degree. Michael had been the best that I had ever seen until today. I myself wasn’t terribly good at it; my abilities were firmly situated in the power of influence and persuasion. However, combating titanium contamination and trying to make another daemon appear human would require an unprecedented amount of effort and concentration; if it was even possible.
“I’m going to try something,” I announced as I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined my illusion extending to Michael. I poured every bit of me, every ounce of strength I possessed into the effort. Slowly, my concentration unwavering, I opened my eyes and looked up at Patrick. “Can you still see him—I mean as something other than human?”
“No…but how did you—?” Patrick asked in confusion.
“No time to explain. I can’t do this for long.” I turned to Penelope. “I need you to be strong for me, Penelope—for him. Can you do that?”
She sniffled and nodded. “I think so.”
“Okay, the two of you need to carry Michael out of here. I have to call someone and keep this illusion up until they get here.”
“They?” Patrick asked, a little exasperated.
“Later Patrick, I’ll explain later.” Now was definitely not the time for explanations.
Patrick and Penelope hoisted Michael up and started toward the door while I searched the floor around me until I found my bag that I had dropped earlier. It had been trampled by the stampede of fleeing students, but my phone was still safely inside the pocket. Okay maybe safely wasn’t the right word considering the screen was shattered, but at least it still turned on.
I dialed the Daemon Emergency Number and someone picked up on the second ring.
“Kalo Emergency Response, please state your emergency,” a female voice said on the other end of the line sounding anxious and distracted.
“I’m at Bayside Academy; the school that was just attacked. We have one down that needs special transport. He’s dead.”
The voice of the other line now sounded completely panicked. “Has anyone seen him? Have we been compromised?”
“Not that I know of, we’re on our way outside now. I’m extending my illusion shield to him, but I don’t know how much longer I can continue.” I could already feel my strength waning.
“You’re doing what?!”
“Please hurry,” I whispered faintly into the phone.
“We’re—” a loud noise sounded in the background on the other end of the line and the call cut out. Something was definitely up, but I didn’t have time to think about it.
I dropped the phone and collapsed to my knees. If help didn’t arrive soon, I would lose consciousness and then we’d all be royally frakked. I laid down on the ground, breathing heavy and time lost all meaning.
The next thing I was aware of was strong arms lifting me up and loading me onto a stretcher. I heard the slamming of doors and felt the bouncing of a vehicle running over the cracked and potholed streets of San Francisco.
I mumbled almost incoherently. “Weak…please help.”
I felt a sharp jab in my arm, then it felt like an electric current had run rampant through my body. I sat bolt upright nearly bumping heads with the daemon leaning over me.
I looked around wildly; a relieved Kalo EMT was looking down at me. “Thank the gods. That little stunt of yours nearly killed you. As it is, I’m not even sure it should have even been possible in the first place.”
“Michael.” I whipped my head around and saw the other stretcher next to me. Michael lay there just as dead as he had been before; there was no saving him. Beyond him sat Penelope holding his deathly pale hand, unabashedly crying.
“Never do something like that to me again,” Patrick choked out under his breath.
I looked over at him a little guiltily, he looked terrible, and I could only imagine what seeing me collapse like that must have done to him. I took his hand in mine and leaned against him closing my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you not to scare the crap out of me like that ever again,” he said as he pulled me tighter.
We arrived at the Folsom Street Kalodaemon Hospital and the EMT jumped up and opened the doors. They unloaded Michael solemnly from the back. There was no point in rushing; he wasn’t coming back.
“Are you coming?” the Kalo EMT who had been riding with us in the back asked, looking at me a little uneasily. I’m pretty sure my use of my abilities had freaked him out just a little.
“No, I’m okay.” I looked over at Penelope who was staring down at Michael, still refusing to leave his side. “Could you make sure she’s okay though? The person she loved just died.”
“Oh,” he answered sadly as he looked back over at Penelope. “Sure thing, kid.”
And with one last uneasy look in my direction, they all disappeared into the building. A few minutes went by; people passed us on their way inside, but I just stood there numbly taking it all in.
“It’s another one of those buildings isn’t it?” Patrick asked, rubbing his temples.
I looked over at his pained expression. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”
“If I go in just now, I’m going to hurl,” Patrick admitted as he looked at the building apprehensively.
“Want to get out of here?” I asked nervously, looking around.
“I hope to hell you don’t mean to Vegas this time,” he said, opening one eye.
“No, I was thinking more like to your house; it’s only a few blocks from here,” I answered, gesturing down the street with my head.
“Wait, there’s been a daemon hospital down the street from me, and I didn’t even notice?” Patrick asked taken aback.
“That’s the general idea, Patrick; for you not to notice.”
“Damn, you guys are good.”
41
Nothing is Ever What It Seems
Wednesday, May 9th
NUALLA
“My room’s just up the stairs. You don’t mind if I change into something a little less—bloody?” Patrick asked as he looked down at himself in disgust.
I looked at him, looked at the blood; Michael’s blood that had already started to eat through the fibers of the cloth. “No, not at all.”
Patrick pulled his acid green stained black polo shirt off over his head as his walked up the stairs. And then I saw it, saw the mark just between his shoulder blades. I saw it clear as day; there was no mistaking it. A six horned gazelle with a crescent moon perched atop its horns; dark bluish purple like a bruise, but much darker than any bruise could ever be.
“‘And they shall so be marked,’” I whispered on a startled breath, so soundlessly that I wasn’t even sure I had said it aloud.
The Marked Ones. The children of Kalodaemons that were not born daemon. An anomaly in the genetic code of our species. Born with a mark identifying them for what they truly were. A mark even they couldn’t see with their human-like eyes. Forced to walk the fine line between the worlds, but a child of neither world. If Patrick’s parents were Kalodaemons, surely they would have told him. Or he would have at least popped up in the database when I got him his Blue Card. But
he hadn’t, which only left one answer.
I stepped backward knocking over some papers on a nearby mail table. This couldn’t be; it wasn’t true. My luck couldn’t possibly be that bad. But as the papers fluttered to the ground, my fears screamed out at me plain as day. The symbol on them was unmistakable. I could deny it all I wanted, try to run away from it, but it wouldn’t change a thing.
Kakodemoss.
Patrick turned to me and smiled, but his smile disappeared when he saw my face. “Nualla, what’s wrong?” He took a step toward me back down the stairs, and I took two back.
I chanced a glance down at the papers. There was no mistaking it. It was there, the symbol of their order. A spike piercing through a crescent moon and ending in three downward facing Egyptian lotuses with two horns curving up, nearly encircle the design.
I looked up into his confused face and swallowed. Could I trust him, or had they gotten to him? Had this been part of their plan all along?
“Nualla, what’s wrong?” Patrick asked again, looking even more concerned.
I pointed a shaking finger at the fallen mail. “Patrick, whose papers are those?”
He looked down at the papers then back up into my face looking even more confused. “My parent’s. Why, what’s going on?”
“That’s the mark of the Kakodemoss Order,” I said, pointing a finger at the symbol on the mail.
“That terrorist group? The people who just attacked the school?” Patrick asked, staring at me in disbelief. I couldn’t bring myself to answer—answering would make it real—so I just nodded.
I took another step back and then another, inching my way back to the door.
“Nualla—I swear I didn’t know!” he pleaded as he took a few more steps toward me.
“Have you ever gone with them?” I asked, fumbling for the doorknob.
“Gone with them where?”
“Patrick, please!”
“Nualla, I don’t understand.”
“Have you ever gone with them to a Kakodemoss building, a meeting, anything?” I demanded, still frantically trying to get the door open.
He paused for a second squeezing his eyes shut before they shot back open, and he blinked like crazy. “What?”
“Patrick, please just answer me.” I was barely containing my terror at this point.
“I am answering you. I have no idea what that symbol means, or any of this for that matter!” Patrick looked nearly as upset as I was.
I looked up at him, tears welling up in my eyes. “How can I believe you? How can I believe a word you say when your parents are…what they are?”
“Nualla, I have never gone with them anywhere. Hell, I hardly ever see them since they are never here! The last time I remember seeing my father was when I broke my damn arm!”
“But how can I trust you?” I asked, trembling.
“I swear, I have nothing to do with this.”
“But—”
“I swear on this bond that I would never betray you!” Patrick vowed, holding up his wedding ring. Though we were no longer legally married, the gesture was the same.
“But they’re your parents!” I knew that he loved me, but I just couldn’t make myself believe it with all certainty anymore.
“Nualla, I gave up any ties to my old life when—”
“But they’re your family.”
“They stopped being my family a long time ago,” Patrick stated, looking away.
Silence hung in the air for a long time, and then I heard the words. “‘Let my arms be wings, to shield you from your fears. Let me be the sword, by which you vanquish all your foes. Let me be the cure that heals all your wounds. Let me be the light that chases away the darkness. Let me be the bond that binds you to this safe place.
“‘Take my days, and fill them softly with your smiles. Take my nights, and warm them gently with your kisses. Take my love, and hold it closely to your heart and I will give you all that is mine to give.’” After a short pause he added, “Will you trust me now?”
“How did you—how could you remember that? I was—we were wasted.”
“Actually, I didn’t remember it; Alex gave me access to the Kalo online database. I looked it up there. I take the promises I make very seriously. I wanted to know what I had sworn to do.”
Questions were filling up my head faster than I could track them. I knew the answers had to be there, just around a corner. All I had to do was think hard enough. I went back to the beginning of everything; the beginning of us. I raced forward to today, but nothing seemed out of place, no clues leapt out to share their secrets. And so I went back farther and tried to dredge up any memory of Patrick before the time he had stood up for me in front of Michael. But I couldn’t, not even a fragment of him passing me in the halls.
There was something very wrong with that, something that screamed for my attention. No one could just appear out of nowhere, they could only be hidden. But how could you hide a person? Then the image of the assassin fiddling with something at her neck flashed before my eyes. She had had something, something that kept her hidden. Something that made me feel like my eyes didn’t want to see her. Like my brain was trying to forget her. Like she was a wall, a tree, a ghost. Unremarkable, invisible, like our buildings—like my car.
If we could use this against the humans, there was no reason it couldn’t be used on us. But Patrick didn’t have anything like that, I had no problem seeing him, it’s not like he was— And then I remembered that day back in Mr. Lucas’ class, that conversation we had had that first week we had met.
“My mom gave me a pendant too.”
“Really?”
“But I seem to have lost it this week.”
The smoking gun.
Frak.
I now knew the answer. As impossible as it seemed, I knew deep down that it was the truth.
With a sigh, I looked up into Patrick’s worried eyes.
“Your pendant, the one your mother gave you, when exactly did you lose it?”
Patrick froze dead still and his brow furrowed. “What?”
“Patrick, please just answer the question,” I said in the calmest voice I could muster, but I’m pretty sure anyone would have been able to hear the strain in it.
“I lost it that first day in the hall, that first day we talked.”
Frak, I hated being right. “That pendant was probably an optical shield. The wearer could appear however they liked. It’s like what we use on our buildings and cars. Travis said they couldn’t be made that small. Apparently, he was wrong.”
“So you weren’t really ignoring me—I mean on purpose?”
“No, it was just the pendant.”
“But why would someone give me something like that?” Patrick asked, looking extremely uneasy.
“Because someone didn’t want anyone to know that you were a Marked One.”
“A what?” Patrick asked, his eyes wide.
“A Marked One, a child of daemons who’s not born daemon.”
“Wait, did you just say I’m not human?!”
“Not—exactly…” I said, nervously running my teeth over my bottom lip.
Patrick looked like he was going to throw up or pass out—or both. “And you know this how?”
“You have a mark on your back that marks you as one.”
“I have a mark on my back?!” Patrick asked incredulously, his eyes growing even wider with shock.
“Yes, right between your shoulder blades, but I guess you wouldn’t be able to see, would you.”
“I don’t know, I might be able to see it now,” Patrick said nervously, running his hand through his hair.
It was my turn to be shocked. “What?”
“Well you see I—”
I held up
my hand, and Patrick cut off abruptly. That feeling in my chest was back again. That feeling that had preceded the attack on the school. “Patrick, who else has keys to this place beside you?”
“Only my parents. Why?”
And then I heard a voice in the hall outside Patrick’s home and the jingle of keys behind me. I darted past Patrick, grabbing his hand to pull him up the stairs behind me. The door to the right on the top of the landing was closed, and the one straight ahead was a bathroom, so I chanced the left door. I just hoped it was the door that lead to his room.
With barely a second thought, I hit the floor and rolled under the bed just as I heard the front door downstairs creak open. I held my breath, squeezing my eyes shut. I had made the rash decision to trust Patrick with my life; I just prayed to Daenara that it wasn’t the wrong choice.
A woman’s voice from below called out in an anxious tone, “Patrick?”
I could hear Patrick swallow hard before calling out. “Up here, Mom.”
As the woman rushed up the stairs, Patrick grabbed a shirt and pulled it over his head in enough time to meet her on the landing.
“Oh, Patrick!”
“Mom, what are you doing home so early?” Patrick asked in startled voice.
“I heard what happened at your school on the news and got here as soon as I could.”
That was a complete lie. There was no way it had gotten on the news that quickly and that she would have had enough time to get here. We had barely just made it here, and we were at the school. And that’s when I knew for certain that they were part of the Kakodemoss Order. I just hoped Patrick was smart enough to catch the lies too.
“Thank goodness you’re alright,” his mother said with relief.
“A little shaken up, but no real injuries,” Patrick said uneasily.
There was a pause. Something was wrong. I wished I could peer out and find out what, but I couldn’t risk it.
Daemons in the Mist (The Marked Ones Trilogy: Book One) Page 26