I paused before texting Lucy back that I could start in a few days time. I wanted to add in a reason, but I didn’t have one that wouldn’t make me sound crazy. When she messaged me back the hours for my first shift on Wednesday and a couple of others for the week, plus some info on what to wear, I breathed out a massive sigh of relief.
Picking up my night out clothes, I put them in the bathroom sink and turned on the hot water tap. They stank of smoke. The hotel had a laundry service, but I didn’t want anyone to find out I’d been in that nightclub. Even if no-one put two and two together, it would be suspicious to hand those clothes over as they were. So I decided to wash them and put them in once they dried out.
I’d been lucky enough to make it back to my room without really being seen, besides by some random drunk guy who’d shouted nonsense at me on the street when I was walking back to the Starlight. I’d stood in the bathroom and wiped off the dirty marks from ash and mud and who knew what else before I threw on a vest and went to bed.
There were little scratches on my legs and arms from crawling out of that window, and a bruise on my ankle that looked pretty nasty. Luckily it didn’t feel anywhere near as bad as it looked.
I got into the shower and properly washed the night off me. I was certain my hair trapped some of the smell. I could still taste smoke in my mouth. It reminded me of how kissing Jimmy had always tasted, something I wanted to think about even less than the murderous demon I was going to have to find a way to exorcise.
At least I hadn’t backslid into Jimmy’s arms. I’d walked away.
I supposed I was used to doing that by now. Some habits die hard. There’s no use wallowing. I got dressed and walked into town, picking up newspapers and going into a café to read them. It was probably too soon for something on the fire, but I had to check. The latest edition of the local paper wouldn’t be out for days. The discovery of the body might make national news if they found out she was already dead when the fire started. I didn’t hold out much hope, and so I wasn’t disappointed. Story of my life.
I got up and got supplies to take back to the hotel. Holing up for a few days was the plan now. Getting rid of the demon before I started my new job seemed like the best idea. There was something I could do to attempt to drag him into the dreamscape. That something was dangerous for two reasons. One, it would alert him that I was still alive. Two, he’d have the advantage of knowing I was on his trail before I even got my hands on the weapon that would destroy him.
Waiting for him to fall asleep on his own was the smarter option, but it was also completely outside of my control. I could only hope it happened before the three days were up.
Chapter Eight
Day one, Sunday, nothing happened. Literally, nothing. I paced around the room, opening drawers and flipping through the room service menu, making myself hungry and having to remind myself it was all just soggy, microwaved crap and would cost me money I shouldn’t be spending. I tried on the purple dress and was glad I splurged for it. It felt amazing and looked even better. I checked through my clothes and assessed what I might need to buy first. I decided I could probably sew the hole in one of my jumpers if I got a cheap kit for repairs. I might need socks soon, no big deal. I leafed through the touristy brochures on the desk and thought about taking some long walks. Some other time, when I wasn’t at the beck and call of a deadly demon. All of this somehow managed to waste away the day, and took me into the night.
I started to yawn during the late-night movie marathon. I tensed for the familiar pull of the dreamscape, but it didn’t come. Run-of-the-mill tiredness was likely to claim me soon, regardless of what the demon might be up to. This plan was beginning to feel pathetic.
I was already sick of Pot Noodles and I’d only had one. Unfortunately, they fitted my budget and were a perfect dinner choice for holing up in a hotel room for three days where the only prep option I had for meals was using a kettle.
Sighing, I tried to concentrate on the movie, but I was getting twitchy. I hadn’t felt the pull of the dreamscape once. I didn’t know what the demon was doing, but his host needed to sleep sometime. No-one could just stay awake forever. Could they?
I worried about what he might be doing right now. My grandmother always told me not to think about that part, that the dreamscape’s pull would come when it would, but how could I not? This one killed a girl, and he tried to kill me. That’s not even counting whatever the host did to start this mess. Blood was being spilled, and it could only get worse. He’s not going to just decide that’s it, he’s done killing people. This wasn’t an ending, it was a beginning.
I thought about the ritual to go astral. Gran taught me it, and I’d been dubious until I used it. Only ever on the trail of less violent demons. Sloth, Gluttony. They were still dangerous, don’t get me wrong, but they were easier to win against because of their natures. A Wrath was thought to be too deadly to capture using the ritual. Mainly because using it would give him the upper hand. It would give him time to formulate an attack, because he would know mine was coming. Attack was what his type did best, decisively and violently. I would very likely die before I got the chance to hurt him. What good would that do?
If I died, the demon would still be in his host’s body, pushing him to act on his anger. Who knew how many people would die, who knew if he’d ever be caught? It was a risk that couldn’t be taken lightly.
But, if I waited, who knew what the demon could be doing while I sat around? More people could be dying at his host’s hands already. I could be doing something to stop that.
If I had a bigger ego, I knew I’d be getting ready to perform the ritual and go astral right now.
One more night, I promised myself. I wouldn’t let my thoughts torture me into a suicide run. I had to at least try to use some semblance of sense. My mind was churning as my eyelids got too heavy to stay open. I was hauled into a restless slumber, feeling completely lost. The dreamscape wasn’t going to pull me in this time. The demon was keeping his host awake.
***
I recognised the memory the moment I began to dream. Most of my non-demon-encounter REM stage was spent rehashing the past, dredging up memories that were meaningful. One of the lesser curses of my dream walker abilities was the lack of ability to dream like the average person.
This memory was from three years ago, and it was meaningful enough to have haunted me on repeat. It always started at the same entry point; the moment I went into the building.
I climbed in the window and dusted my hands off on my jeans. The corridor was dark, light illuminating patches where windows were letting in the moonlight. I turned and helped Lucy whose expression briefly told me she didn’t want to be there, before she straightened it out to her usual tight, impossible to read mask. This was her dumbass boyfriend’s idea. Our old high school was set to be demolished and re-built over the summer. Darren told us about the window with the dodgy lock, and it had suddenly became a plan to break-in for a drinking session.
I took the bottle of MD 20/20 from inside my hoodie and Lucy rolled her eyes. Cheap booze always gave her that reaction. Anything less than a Bacardi Breezer and she turned up her nose. I took a drink and waited for the guys to get their asses moving. Gez is the first one through. His lanky frame always seemed to accompany some form of clumsiness. Tonight, he face-planted the floor after dismounting from the window ledge perfectly. In fact, it was only his fumbling turn to celebrate the victory of the landing that sent him cursing to the ground. The thump was loud. I winced. Sounded painful.
“Watch it,” Lucy whisper-yelled. She folded her arms. I could see the tension building in her shoulders. She really didn’t want to be here.
Gez was red-faced when he got up. Darren was pissing himself laughing as he climbed inside. I took a step back, pulling Gez with me so he wouldn’t end up on the floor again when Darren launched one of his ‘fake’ punches at his friend’s arm.
Yeah, Lucy’s always had stellar taste in men.
“W
hat are we even doing here?” Lucy was talking low now, not quite enough to be a whisper, but I could tell she was still insanely nervous. She’s always been pretty straight-laced. Anything she might get in trouble for did this to her, yet she wouldn’t ever say no to Darren. I rolled my eyes as he put his arm around her.
I watched Mason climb in last, wishing the mere sight of him didn’t do weird things to my insides. Probably shouldn’t have kissed him that time we got drunk at the park. Probably shouldn’t have slept with him a few weeks ago at that party either. He closed the window carefully and jumped down.
His gaze drifted to my hand on Gez’s arm. I didn’t want to give Darren’s bestie the wrong impression, so I moved back and took a swig of my bottle. The stuff tasted like sweets. Made it way too easy to drink. I stuffed the bottle back inside the inner pocket of my hoodie and glanced around.
Darren had walked Lucy down the corridor and I saw him sweet-talking her from where I stood. I didn’t need to hear the words, I could pretty much guess their exchange word for word, and I knew I wouldn’t be a million miles off.
“He thinks she might dump him over what happened at that party,” Gez murmured, taking a half-bottle of Buckfast out of his back pocket and gulping some down. Kind of lucky he’d face-planted when he fell then. Landing on his ass and breaking that bottle would have been way worse.
“The thing with Brianna,” I muttered, knowing it because I was there. Lucy never would have told me if she thought Darren was fucking around. She already knew I thought he was a stupid prick. He’d almost proven it at that party.
“Too bad he noticed Lucy was there,” Mason said, drawing a wry smile from me. He’d just spoken my own thoughts out loud.
I glanced at Gez, wondering if I could catch him off guard. “So how many other girls has he been with since they started dating anyway?”
His face paled. I supposed it wasn’t a fair question. I didn’t know why I was even trying to get solid proof. It wasn’t as if Lucy would listen if I told her. She’d just call me a bitch and stop speaking to me for a week. I’d only get back in her good books if I didn’t mention it again after that. Why couldn’t she just like decent guys? We wouldn’t have this constant problem if she did. It sucked so badly.
“Bro code,” Mason reminded me, talking a walk in the opposite direction.
I didn’t want to get stuck with Darren’s clutzy pal all night, so I chased after my male best friend.
“Slow down,” I called after him.
He stopped and turned, waiting for me to catch up.
“Where are you going?” I had to wonder. He’d strode off with such purpose.
He pointed down the corridor. “Teacher’s lounge. There might be a couch or something. They haven’t cleared all the rooms.”
“Hey. You two aren’t a thing, are you?” Gez asked, making me jump. He’d managed to creep up on us.
I sighed. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “So? Is it cool if I come with you, or are you going someplace to screw?”
Mason glared at him. It was kind of scary seeing the irritation rising in his expression. It took a lot to piss him off. I honestly didn’t know what might come out of his lips at that moment, until he snapped loudly, “We’re not together.”
Gez seemed rattled. If he wasn’t sure what to make of Mason’s outburst, that made two of us.
“It was only a question,” I said, not sure how I felt about the reaction it provoked.
“So, you’re single then?” Gez asked me, as Mason moved off down the corridor and started working on a door with some kind of mini-crowbar he’d produced from his back pocket.
I laughed. I had to. The situation was fucked. “Not really. He’s just pissed off at me.”
The confusion on Gez’s face was priceless. Everyone at school had thought there was something going on with Mason and me, and maybe there was, or at least, maybe there could have been. If I didn’t pull away almost every time it felt like he was about to make a move. The stuff we’d done while we were drunk didn’t count, apparently. Since I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, either time, I didn’t know why Mason thought it didn’t count. As much as it bugged me, when it came right down to it, I didn’t want to know.
“I need to go to the toilet,” Gez muttered, glancing down the corridor and shivering slightly. It wasn’t quite pitch black, but close enough, plus the corridor was kind of spooky and echoey. I didn’t blame the guy for hesitating. If he got a fright he’d likely have some kind of messed up Final Destination style accident and actually kill himself.
“Just remember,” I told him. “There’s no one else here, but us.”
His eyes seemed to bulge at the suggestion. I just knew he was taking it the wrong way and wondering now who else might be lurking in the building now. My bad, I supposed. I totally forgot how paranoid the guy was.
“You’ll be fine,” I told him, walking away as Mason got the door to the teacher’s lounge open.
Gez shuffled off down the corridor towards the men’s toilets, glancing around meekly as he went. Mason stepped inside the teacher’s lounge, and I followed, realising quickly that with the broken lock there was no way to keep Gez out when he came back. I gave up on the fleeting desire to get more than a moment alone with Mason. Probably a bad idea anyway. Chances were we’d only do something he’d want to talk about later.
I took in the room. It did indeed have couches. They were kind of old, but it was better than finding a classroom and sitting at desks. I supposed.
“You didn’t have to bite his head off back there,” I told him, sitting down as he rooted around in the cupboards over a sort of kitchen area. I was playing with fire mentioning it, but it seemed to be my go-to mode whenever I started drinking. The one time I’m willing to actually talk.
He sighed loud enough to be heard across the room. “Don’t tell me you like him.”
I took out my booze and took a gulp before I bothered to answer. Half the bottle was gone, and I didn’t even feel drunk. I missed the days when it took less. Sometimes it seemed like turning eighteen made drinking less fun. “He’s not my type.”
He brought something over to the coffee table, a big candle, and set it down. Lighting it used up a few matches, and it hardly did much to illuminate the room, but it seemed to be scented like vanilla. I breathed the sweet smell in. Birthday cake, yum.
“Then who is?” The restrained annoyance in his tone made it clear his last attempt to break the hard shell around my heart was still playing on his thoughts. He’d been like this ever since the party. Well, ever since the morning after the party.
“Maybe I’m just not ready to have a type.” It’s slightly softer than the ugly truth, and I knew he could tell I was skirting the real issue. That’s what happened when you’d known someone forever. They knew when you were lying.
“I think you’re just scared.” He stayed on his feet, the coffee table between us. “I don’t understand what the problem is, exactly, but I know it’s because you’re afraid.”
Ouch. I got up, itching to leave suddenly. “I don’t think this is…”
“I love you.” He made sure he looked me in the eyes when he said it. “You know that.”
I gasped in a breath at his admission. I’d always kind of known, but hearing it out loud made it so real. I tried vainly to come up with a response. There was nothing. I just wanted to get out of there so badly. It was all so messed up. Losing Mason would kill me, but he couldn’t possibly love someone he didn’t really know. There’s such a big part of me he could never know about. A part that affects everything in my life. He’d never understand.
“Mason, I…”
“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll stop trying.” He took a shaky breath as he waited for me to respond. Shattering everything between us would hurt too much, but I was nowhere near ready to make this kind of decision.
“Of course, I love you. I just…” The rest of my words fell away as he
pulled me into a kiss.
It was everything I wanted, and everything I was afraid of all at once. He held onto me like he would never let me go. For a few minutes I actually believed in forever, but it didn’t last. Nothing ever does.
***
I woke up feeling like I could smell fire. It made me jump into a sitting position and glance around warily. No fire, no smoke. I was just still having my senses messed with by the demon I’d stumbled across and hadn’t managed to exorcise yet. I shivered as I got up and threw on my clothes. The memory that haunted me was a regular feature of my normal dreams and I was kind of sick of having it. Who wouldn’t be? It was the night I’d almost found happiness, only to have it snatched away by reality, before a whole day had even passed.
The memory had stirred up things that I didn’t want to think about, but the feelings it left me with wouldn’t ever go away. The morning after we said we loved each other, Mason’s mother was sectioned, and he had to take legal guardianship of his little brother. It was a lot to deal with. He’d pulled away this time, not me. I didn’t blame him, not really, but our friendship deteriorated after that, to the point that we became more like acquaintances than friends.
It tore my heart to shreds. He was going through so much, and I couldn’t help him with any of it. I never should have let him kiss me that night. It had been the beginning of the end, of everything. I still had Lucy then, and at the time, Gran.
I met Jimmy a few months later, and he didn’t mend my heart, but he did make everything feel less shitty for a while. If I stayed in the moment and didn’t think beyond it.
Sinners Never Sleep (Seven Deadly Demons Book 1) Page 5