by Lexi Ostrow
The sensation returned again, he hadn't even realized it stopped during his unease at a possible intruder. It was back, a melodic voice, one that seemed to be recounting his entire life story. He focused on the strange sensation harder, still swinging the gun from side to side to show the presence in the room he meant business, and he realized it was a female voice. A wonderfully pleasant and soothing female voice. He allowed himself to get lost in the voice and his arm holding the gun out waived slightly as he almost forgot the likelihood of an attacker being in his office.
The voice rattled off details of his life. Intimate details from his childhood through to his wedding day and then beyond. As an image of his wife, soaked in her own blood, entered his mind and he fired the gun, six rounds going off in succession as he spun in a circle in his office. “Fuck you. Do you hear me? I haven't trained this hard for some fucking invisible one of you to get me. You took down my wife and so help me I’ll take down every stinking rotten demon on the planet to stop the Apocalypse and learn what makes you tick, even if it kills me.”
The voice just kept going. Louder and faster memories swirled around him until a man in a black leather jacket stepped out of seemingly nowhere and into his view. “DEMON!” He cursed and fired in the man's direction. The man reached up and caught both bullets, crushed them and let the powder sift through his fingers to the floor. His mouth lifted into a grin, revealing perfectly white, straight teeth. The sensation of seeing a demon smile sent chills through Jonathan and he squeezed the trigger again, only to realize it was empty. Panic gripped Jonathan, or maybe it was something else because he couldn't move. He wasn't afraid of dying with the demon, but he sure as hell didn't want to be a sitting duck for whatever was going to be done to him.
The man in the jacket took a step forward, stopped and looked around. “Hmm not a bad shin-dig.” He walked over to Jonathan’s desk and dropped into the chair.
Jonathan strained every muscle in his body and yet his feet still held fast to the floor. The demon casually kicked his feet up onto the desk and finally turned to look at Jonathan.
“Don't bother calling for backup. If you stick your head outside the door you'll see everything and everyone is frozen; time, spilling drinks, firing guns.” He grinned again and Jonathan felt a tremor of fear run through at the idea that a stray bullet may or may not be waiting on the other side of the flimsy wooden door. “Everything but you and me, and no pitiful human, I'm not a demon and I'm not someone you've previously trapped and foolishly lost hold of.”
In a panic, Jonathan bolted to the door and threw it open. Men and women stood in various positions in the hall, some with mouths open, some in mid step. But all frozen. Blowing a breath out at his relief to not see any bullets, his eyes darted to the clock in the office, it wasn't ticking. He scanned over the hall once more to ensure none were bleeding from a wound the demon could have caused before walking slowly back into the office and closing the door behind him for no particular reason. Or perhaps it was to lean his back on it to feel like he had a safe side from this monster.
“What are you?” His voice held none of the earlier anger and power as when he had thought the predator had been invisible. All the bravado had leaked out of him as his mind turned over the power he was witnessing.
“Such a curious question, Jonathan.”
He was unimpressed at the last attempt at power, many demons knew him by name as he had sent badly damaged messengers back to hell to show the power of The Initiative.
“Let's just call me someone you want to be very nice to.” The man swung his feet off the desk and rose in the chair. He approached Jonathan, stopping a few inches from him and looking directly into his eyes. “Do you hear that? That sound like someone reading in your head? A female someone to be exact?”
He swallowed and nodded slowly, fear rolling off him in waves now.
“Well she is going to be your savior, little boy. So listen to me and listen well because I do not repeat myself.”
And so Jonathan listened. He listened to an amazing tale, some sort of bull about his world being nothing more than someone's story. His life was apparently someone's work of fiction- in some other universe, a universe free of demons of the literal kind. No Apocalypse to fight, no demons to kill, aside from the evil that lurked inside of mankind. Mankind would always be evil, he was a testament of that even as he fought for humanity. But human evil? That was natural, a balance of sorts in his mind. His mind was swimming with the idea of a demon free world and when the man in the leather jacket was done talking he didn’t want to say he believed it. Did not want to grasp the idea of a world without demons that he could exploit and control, even as the man disappeared before his eyes after spinning such an elaborate tale.
Why had the man told him that and could he truly not be a demon? A wave of nausea overtook him at the idea that if demons were real why not every other creature that could go bump in the night? What plan was this of the demons? Were they trying mind games now? Or perhaps this man wasn't pulling his leg about not being a demon. Maybe he worked for the angels, and was merely sent down to let The Initiative know of the demon activity?
He frowned and realized a dull throbbing had began in his head while he'd stood in his office contemplating such an absurd idea. No, Jonathan could not say he believed it, but he had a hope of sorts for it. Yes, he had always sought control over demons, but perhaps freedom from their entire existence was better.
If this tale of Ciara Miller was true, if there truly was a world out there he could take his troops to and be free of demons wouldn't that be something? What would be the harm in sacrificing one human to find out? Especially as this human was apparently not a human like him after all, being from a different reality, or maybe he wasn't one like her. Yes, Jonathan had hope, and thanks to the man in the leather jacket, he was going to see if he could make himself believe too.
Chapter 4
Dumbfounded Ciara just stood staring at the spot where Stryder had been standing, should still be standing. Blinking didn’t seem to bring him back. She'd never made Alcott vanish before, she'd never had any reason to once she stopped screaming and just accepted him the night he appeared. She smiled to herself as she realized this might be the perfect fix to the problem of dealing with an unwanted Guardian, especially if they could sense attacks on her life on their own and appear without hanging around. Alcott rarely left, but he had mentioned that he could hear her in his head when she got into trouble, like a link that would always protect her should he not be around. Although, the lonely apartment could use an extra body. She shook her head and pushed the thought out, but an image of Stryder slung across the couch wouldn’t leave her alone. Ciara cursed and banished the thought, thinking of her rising financial crisis. She was not some pathetic girl and she wouldn't allow some unwanted person into her life just because she was lonely. This new ability was perfect, she never had to deal with Stryder and could just mentally shout for him when she found herself in trouble. Perfect news on a shit day.
Feeling rather smug she did her best to not cry again. For years now she had perfected keeping her hurt back and she wanted to scream at Alcott for ruining that, because she knew now that she had let such a painful emotion control her it would be hard to put it back in the box. But screaming at Alcott wouldn’t do any good, he couldn’t hear her anymore.
Taking a deep breath she walked to the bathroom. Washing her face would make the train wreck trail of makeup on her face go away and maybe a little of the redness to her cheeks from the wind chill and the crying. She turned the water on, but to an icy cold, because Alcott would have hated that and she wanted to piss him off, even if he hadn't done anything wrong. Ciara stuck her hands in the water and splashed it onto her face, the cold hardly noticeable. She scrubbed under her eyes to remove the mascara and eye liner that had smudged and jammed into her pores. Turning off the water she looked into the mirror. The face was done enough, the makeup and redness were gone, even if under her eyes looked
a bit raw from her harsh scrubbing. All that was left were bloodshot eyes and since Derrick had known she had finally lost it and cried, she didn't need to look completely put together. Ciara pulled her hair back into a pony tail and walked back into her bedroom to pick up her purse and keys from the floor. There was no reason for Derrick to think she was so upset she’d dropped everything to cry. She needed to figure out a plan and hope Derrick would believe her sudden sign of emotion was just being overwhelmed from change.
Seeing the book on the couch, she sat down and decided to read some more of it to see what she could learn about her new Guardian, not that she had accepted him, but any information she could get may help her get rid of him as well. It was odd, Stryder was a minor character and yet he'd been pulled. She'd been under the impression it needed to be someone she emotionally identified with and she didn't see that having happened with the few scenes Stryder was in. No, it had been something else entirely or there would have been no Guardian. She cursed herself for her betrayal because she had thought about how sexy he must be and what it would be like to be consumed by a man like him. Sighing at her thoughts, she turned the page to find where she had left off.
He did look exactly how she had pictured him when she had fallen asleep dreaming about the book the night before. He was tall and built like the warrior he and his brothers most certainly were. His blue eyes matched hers, something she always thought would never happen since hers were a freakish, almost demonic shade of blue. Go figure it would be on a demon that she found a color match. But the intensity in them could set anyone's lust on fire, he had bedroom eyes, lust filled and so intense he could burn a hole in someone.
She chuckled, Derrick had attempted bedroom eyes once, he'd ended up looking high and instead of getting her into bed he'd gotten her to laugh. She somehow doubted Stryder’s rocky personality would lend itself to laughter. Stryder's hair was a dark black that was barely longer than a buzz cut and he had the sexiest smile and really, could smiles be sexy? She thought about the look he'd given her when she first walked in and swallowed, yes they sure could.
Unable to concentrate on finding the page she had left off on she settled back into the couch and started over from the beginning. This was Demarcus's book, Death's apprentice book. Stryder was a demon, the byproduct of the Horsemen seducing and conceiving with some of the highest archangels that had existed. There had been four separate angels- devised by Lucifer for the children to be a backup system so that once the Horsemen had started the Apocalypse there would be demons strong enough to finish it. He'd wanted an insurance plan to ensure his place on Earth when it was all over. So he had sent the Horsemen to seduce and kill the angels once the children were born. They were shipped off, each with a Horsemen, to train and learn everything they would need. Lucifer knew they would never actually be replacements for the Horsemen, but being raised by them would give them skills that could be both taught and shared through a DNA link to their demonic fathers. They could summon their fathers at will and allow the Horsemen to share their body for a time. These four brothers were nothing more than surrogates, pawns to keep the real Horsemen safe whenever a demonic force was needed to combat with Heaven. Lucifer's plan wasn't foolproof, the angelic tie allowed the angels to call on the men to fight as well, to fight the demons they were raised with. Ciara assumed it would depend on the balance shift, no evil and the world would be doomed just as if there were no good. She made a note to ask Stryder more if she ever spoke to him because she couldn’t imagine the pain at having to turn on family and friends simply because a blood link compelled them. The idea both intrigued and terrified her. A link so strong with something so evil meant Stryder and his brothers had to be laced with evil under their angelic looks. If that was the case, then what did it say about her if she had shown interest in such an evil character? How dark was he and just what crimes had he committed, would he commit?
There was so much more she needed to know to understand how this had happened. How could she have formed a link with someone based on a few quick sentences? Stryder seemed to still be a two dimensional character. Handsome, a ladies’ man, a real charmer who most assuredly had a tragic past or he couldn't really be the hero of a romance novel when it was his own turn. Still, odd though. Even as she’d slept last night, it had been Stryder that she had dreamed about. She'd dreamed about him fighting across a modern war field to get to her and stop her from marrying the enemy's commander to stop the war. A silly girl’s dream, but it made for good sleeping.
She must have fallen asleep reading the book. When Derrick came home she heard the faint click of the door and felt him not so gently shake her shoulder to completely rouse her from her nap.
“Hey, sleepy. On our very limited time together you aren’t allowed to crash out on the couch with some book called,” he reached over and grabbed the book from beside her where it must have fallen, “Death's Delight, at three in the afternoon.”
Groggy, she rubbed her hand over her eyes and pushed herself to sit up. In his hands she saw a pint of Cold Stone and made a puppy dog face at him. He laughed and handed it to her.
“Banana with Snickers chunks, think of it as a peace offering for waking you up, leaving you after we've been so great together and keeping you from your book.”
She laughed and shook her head and she took the tub. “No dice, ex-boyfriend. How about for keeping me from my book and for waking me? But for leaving, oh no, you need a better peace offering that just this, bud.” She had to scrunch her face up to keep the comment lighthearted and ignore the disappointment rolling around in her head at the reality of him leaving. He really was leaving and now she wasn't as comfortable with it as she had been before.
“Oh really, darling?”
She chuckled at the horrid nickname. Ever since she made him watch a Mary Tyler Moore marathon in high school, he had called her that when he was teasing. He loved watching her cringe and she almost liked the nickname…ten years later.
Shoving him off the couch playfully, she stood up and took the tub of ice cream to the freezer, amazed that she had any ability to walk away from her comfort food on a day like today. “Oh yes, I have a plan for us, a much better way for us to spend our time.” She laughed at the hungry look she saw in his eyes when she turned around. “Mind out of the gutter, Derrick. Not that I'll lie and say my body couldn't use a comfort screw, but we aren't going to be that couple. We broke up, and sadness and loneliness or not, we are not crossing that line.”
He nodded his head, the fire dimming in his eyes and he shifted them down as he walked to her. A pit formed in her stomach, she had no clue what was coming, but his body language said it wasn't something she would like to hear.
Derrick took her hands in his and finally raised his eyes to meet hers and her breathing slowed, caught in her throat at the fear of what he might say. “I know we thought we had another night or two, but tonight is our last night. Tomorrow I have to spend the night in the hotel to get to my plane in time, we live too far from the airport and the driver they have set up won't come this far in the middle of the night.” He sighed. “I know we decided this is best for us. I just really did think we would get married one day. I guess it's a good thing this opportunity came up and we realized we were more about safety nets than fiery passion, huh?”
Blood pounded in her ears and the tears she tried to shake off before fell again. She felt Derrick put his arms around her, wrapping her up against his warm body, trying to comfort her. She shook him off, untangling his arms because she didn't do comfort, because she didn't cry. Damn you, Alcott. She didn’t cry, earlier was a slip. She did not cry. Not anymore, not since her parents death. This was all just so overwhelming, but she wouldn't let him comfort her, that would be a slippery slope to changing the decision that was already made. She was so close to asking him to rethink it already because of her fear of having to face everything alone now.
She sniffled loudly and quickly wiped the few tears from her face. “No, this isn't t
he time to cry. I'm sorry, Derrick, it’s just so much to take in. Ignore it.” She offered him a shaky smile. “How about I tell you that idea of mine and make this the best last night in an American apartment ever?”
He laughed and shrugged. “Sure, lay it on me, darling. How awful could this really be?”
She grinned back at him and wiggled her eyebrows, some of the sadness from earlier slipping away. “How does watching a nice, cheesy, kiddy movie, eating the ice cream, and then something just for you after sound?" Hunger returned to his eyes and she shook her head, laughing again. “Down boy, I meant I would cook a nice, big, juicy steak and mashed potatoes for our last meal together.”
Kissing her on the tip of her nose he laughed. "I think that sounds like a lame idea, but anything for you, darling."
Laughing she smacked his shoulder.
"So what, my darling, are you reading this time?"
She tried to pass him the book, but he shook his head. "Naw, I'm gonna go find Road to El Dorado in this mess we call a dvd cabinet. Just read it out loud to me, I'm sure it’s as generic as the last."
Panic filled her expression and her breath caught in her throat. There was no way she was reading the summary of the book that contained her new Guardian out loud. There was just no way of knowing if he would pop out and she had just somehow trapped him inside of it. It didn't matter that Derrick couldn't see Stryder, there was just no way in hell she was going to make that mistake. She wasn’t ready to see him again. Because if he came out a second time, then Alcott was actually gone for good. Without a goodbye.
"Come on, there's no way it’s too embarrassing to read out loud. Besides if you're taking all these seminars to write romance better and get your million dollar book deal, sooner or later you'll have to read it aloud to adoring fans." He popped the movie in and came to sit back down on the couch. Lifting up her legs and laying them across his he messed with the remote. "Ya know I'm not deaf, last I checked, so I think someone needs to start reading."