Blood In The Stars

by Jennifer Shea

  “Yes?”

  “Miller! It’s Daria,” she cried, breathless. “Open the gate. Candy’s hurt.”

  A loud buzz immediately broke the evening’s quiet and the gate began rolling open.

  “Take Candy!”

  Daria didn’t have time to think; she only had time to react to Jason’s urgency. She ran to them and Jason hurriedly passed Candy to her. Daria staggered from Candy’s weight and steadied her feet in time to stare into the horrifying night.

  A black form rose from the shadows.

  Like so many times these last few days, Daria found her mobility had disappeared. That night in the alleyway—and even tonight as she saw Candy chop down those two creatures in her room—Daria had stood helpless, frozen with fear.

  This thing had attacked Candy. Now it came for their lives.

  Daria bit the inside of her lip until she drew blood. Candy had saved her several times now. She had to get her to safety.

  She dragged Candy to the opening gate inch by precious inch. For all that Candy had the thin figure of a runway model, her unconscious body acted as dead weight, threatening to yank Daria’s arms from their sockets. She struggled, adrenalin pumping through her, and with sudden strength she didn’t know she had, managed to tug Candy back. All the while, her eyes stayed on Jason.

  “Jason! Come back where it’s safe!” That faceless black blob could take him. But he didn’t hear her or else chose not to listen, only striding toward the sinister shadow.

  Her stomach churned as anxiety gripped her. Did Jason plan to confront that thing alone? After what it had done to Candy?

  In a flash of light, Jason swung his sword at the ominous figure, which had enlarged and elongated into the shape of a man. Jason’s left hand formed a pale blue ball of light and he flung it at the black mass. The darkness thinned at the edge to form an arm, then a hand. It caught the ball, crushing it, before forming a fireball and throwing it at Jason.

  Terror flooded her. Jason hadn’t even managed to graze the enemy. What was that thing? Why couldn’t Jason push it back?

  “Get inside!”

  Panting and heaving, Daria dragged Candy through the gate and propped her against the stone pillar as a rush of feet came up behind her. “What happened?” Miller demanded, bending down next to Daria.

  She didn’t have time to respond. Straightening, Miller ran to the gate and punched something into a dial pad before dashing to Jason. The wrought-iron gate stopped and began to close. Oh, God. Now both of them were out there. Her eyes darted between the moving gate and the two men. They didn’t have much time.

  Miller reached into his pocket and pulled out several small vials. He smashed them into the ground; from the shattered glass, fire and light collided into an explosion of gray smoke. Through the blinding haze, Miller and Jason sped to her, but she fixated on the winding gaseous spirals. Something . . . someone . . . remained inside.

  The black mass emerged, and her heart jumped to her throat. The insistent slap of a wooden sole against the concrete drive sent tremors through her body. She stared at long legs, muscular thighs, and the hands in black gloves swinging below a narrow waist and hips. The thick chest centered on straight, broad shoulders that seemed carved from stone. Shadows shrouded the face from the night.

  The slow, purposeful pace of the stranger opened Daria’s eyes to a simple truth—he hunted them and enjoyed their fear and flight.

  She had to get Candy away from the entrance. If that thing got inside, they’d die. Miller and Jason hadn’t reached the rapidly closing gate. Her lungs constricted. Hurry.

  Miller pushed Jason through the gate and dived in after him with inches to spare. The gate shut with a resounding clang and on the other side, the dark figure stopped, still several yards away. Daria let out a long-held breath; one second later and Jason and Miller would have been locked outside. Had their enemy advanced faster, he might have overtaken them.

  Jason stumbled to the gate, one hand holding his arm close, and stared out from behind the iron bars. The stranger now stood just beyond Jason’s reach. Jet-black hair, glittering black eyes, and a square jaw were all set above a bare chest where numerous tattoos left little skin unmarked. She blinked, trying to recall why they looked familiar.

  Odd shapes and curves wrapped around one arm and twined along his chest to form intricate patterns across his other arm. The angular lines and black lattice over his body did not mirror any symmetry but she felt they carried a purpose in their paths.

  He didn’t even glance at her before fading back into the shadows.

  Daria’s hand tightened reflexively on Candy’s arm as she remembered where she had seen similar tattoos.

  They looked exactly the same as Damien’s.

  With no time to ponder her revelation, she followed Jason, who now carried Candy.

  Blood drummed in her ears as she ran down the gravel drive with Miller and Jason. Towering elms rose up on both sides, the branches’ shadows reaching its tentacles toward her with every breeze. The driveway opened into a large ellipse and once again the sight of the looming mansion knocked her breath away.

  Under the moonless night, the soft glow of lamps from each window emerged as a beacon of salvation from their plight. This house would keep them safe. For now.

  With the front door secured behind them, Daria followed Jason through the foyer and up a flight of stairs, into a hallway where Miller pushed open a door for them to enter. An expansive bedroom greeted them.

  Jason deposited Candy on the bed and immediately placed his hands an inch from her body, white light shining from his palms. He moved his lit hands over each bloodied wound. Seemingly satisfied with his efforts, he straightened his arm, and winced.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, stepping nearer.

  Jason held his arm against his body. “Can you please help clean the blood off Candy?” He hesitated, as though wanting to say something more but unable to find the words. Then with his good hand, he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “I’m fine. It’ll be all right.”

  He attempted a smile for her and failed.

  Understanding that she needed to be brave for him, for everyone, and not a burden, Daria stressed, “Don’t worry about things here. I’ll take care of Candy.”

  This time he managed a smile. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, whispering, “That’s my girl.” Then he left.

  Miller sat on the bed next to Candy and nodded toward the door. “The bathroom is across the hall and you can use the towels on the rack.” His voice sounded beyond tired.

  Daria thanked him and hurried down the hall. Keeping busy would stop her from reliving every dangerous moment that just happened. Candy needed her right now. Jason depended on her. She hadn’t developed powers yet, but she would do what she could to help.

  A minute later, she returned with terry washcloths still warm from the water. The sight before her eyes halted her movement. Miller tenderly removed the strands of blond hair encrusted in the dried blood on Candy’s shoulder. His downcast eyes and parted lips pursed every time a lock of hair caught, obviously worried he caused her pain.

  Daria’s heart melted. Miller loves Candy. Afraid to interrupt the intimate moment, she stood at the doorway, the towels growing cool in her hand.

  Suddenly, Miller whipped around and stood abruptly, his face red from embarrassment. “I need to talk to Jason,” he muttered, rushing past her.

  Daria sighed and went to Candy. When everything settled down, she planned to get the two of them together if it killed her. If the monsters don’t kill me first.

  She monitored Candy’s breathing, each rise and fall of her ribcage against a tight black vest that emphasized her cleavage. Maybe if Candy didn’t dress like a porn star, Miller wouldn’t always look so embarrassed. Maybe he could invite Cand
y to their firm’s holiday party.

  Daria gave herself an impatient mental shake. Clean up the blood first, matchmaking later.

  She wiped away the blood across Candy’s brow and felt her stomach turn at the amount the woman had bled. They had all risked their lives for her; Jason, Miller, and now, Candy. Could she help them fight off the monsters, too? The potions hadn’t worked, but soon she’d have powers. Then she could protect herself and everyone else.

  Color returned to Candy’s cheeks, replacing the sallow complexion, though she still hadn’t awoken. Daria undid the buckles on her vest and remembered Jason’s trench had similar fastenings. But she thought nothing more of it as she mopped up the blood on Candy’s chest and shoulder.

  The damp cloth left Candy’s skin cool and Daria quickly wrapped the edges of the blanket around her patient as best she could. She scanned the room for something else to use but saw only an armoire in the corner.

  Jason had asked for her help as the only woman in the house. Because blood had seeped into all of Candy’s clothing, it took some time to peel everything off, cleanse away the blood, and then cover her naked body.

  Exhausted and spent, Daria leaned against the wall to inspect her work. Candy’s blond hair remained damp at the temples and watery blood had stained the pillow despite Daria’s best efforts. But at least Candy was clean.

  She squeezed Candy’s hand and murmured, “Thank you.”

  Jason stood in front of the oven staring at the blank notes in one hand and the pen held midair in the other. He didn’t know what to write or to whom he planned to write. When he left Candy and Daria upstairs, he knew he had to warn the others. Yet after he had found everything he needed, he didn’t know how to begin. For several minutes he waited in front of Miller’s fancy oven and mulled over what to do and what to say.

  When Candy had stumbled into their midst, battered and bloodied, a singular thought had entered his mind. Were he and Daria doomed much as he and Alice had been ill-fated? He was the only common factor among them all. What if death followed him? Chased his indecisions?

  Jason’s lack of strength to do what was needed had led to his family’s hatred, his self-exile, Alice’s death, and now Candy and Daria were at risk. And he stood impotent, despite his power to help everyone.

  He just had to step over that line. Kill a monster. Save Daria. Embrace the innate abilities he had and his family would no longer shun him. Easy. Just one monster.

  Footsteps approached but Jason didn’t turn around.

  “Daria’s cleaning up Candy,” Miller reported listlessly as he pulled out glasses from the cupboard.

  Bottles clinked behind him and a moment later, Miller shoved a glass filled with amber liquid toward Jason. He stared at the liquor, unmoving.

  “It’s getting cold in here so that means I don’t like whatever it is you’re thinking about.” When Jason remained still and silent, Miller suggested in a gentler tone, “You can send the letter to Santa later.”

  Nodding, Jason put away the pen and paper. He took his glass and followed Miller to the family room where they collapsed onto the plush leather sofa.

  “Thank you.”

  Miller sniffed. “You didn’t need my help.”

  Jason gulped the scotch, enjoying the way it burned a path down his tongue to his throat, all the way to his belly. But it didn’t remove the chill spreading from the marrow of his bones or the unease coating his stomach.

  After traveling through the shadows to arrive at Miller’s house, they’d had mere seconds before their mysterious enemy arrived. Jason hadn’t known what chased them, only that he had to get Daria and Candy to safety. Short of going to his father, there was no safer place in the entire realm than Miller’s mansion.

  As suspected, Miller had returned home through the shadows and set up the protective barrier. The soft golden shimmer around the property line testified to the home’s security. It prevented anyone with supernatural abilities from getting close, but it allowed free access to humans. They’d had only seconds to spare before the demon arrived.

  He knew it was a demon as soon as the charcoal blob had risen from the concrete. Power had emanated from its formless body, sizzling the hair on the back of Jason’s neck, poisoning the air he breathed. Even then, he had sensed a familiarity of its powers. Yet he couldn’t name it.

  Jason had struck with his sword and the demon had parried easily. They fought, his steel against the shadow, piercing the unidentified evil before him. He had sent out an energy ball that the demon easily extinguished before getting struck himself. All the while Jason sensed the demon merely toyed with him.

  Which left one option: Jason could no longer hold back in his current state. He had to change into his true form, use all his powers, and strike to kill.

  But Miller saved him the trouble of changing. The foolish wizard had flown in, potions blazing and smoke whirling with just enough time for them to rush back to the safety of the house.

  Once inside the confines of the witch’s domain, Jason’s mind remained unsettled. Something familiar about that black shadow tickled his memories. This had happened before, long, long ago. He had stood at the gate waiting while the disquiet inside him churned and grew like cancer. He knew the demon not only had planned to reveal itself, but also had no real intention of killing him. No, instead it had wanted to force them inside . . . to a prison of their own making.

  “What were you thinking about back there?” Miller interrupted Jason’s dark pondering.

  He let out a heavy breath. “I was thinking how easy it would be to kill whatever came for Daria and be done with it. Everyone would be happy.”

  “Except for you.” Miller studied him for a moment, then asked, “What is it? You would have never even entertained the thought in the past. You seem . . . nervous.” He pointed to Jason’s fisted hands.

  Jason forced his hands to loosen, but still his nails dug into his palms. He welcomed the pinch of pain. It reminded him they still lived. For now.

  He changed the subject. “Your barrier. How long will it last?”

  Miller’s lips curved in a wry smile. “I could say forever but I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees. “If the onslaught is vicious enough, they could pierce it, yes.”

  “And how do we get out?”

  “That’s a secret.” At Jason’s raised brows, Miller gave a casual shrug. “If you plan to defend her, I’ll let you out.”

  “What if I plan to marry her?”

  Miller narrowed his eyes, half rising from his seat. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

  It was their last option and one Jason wouldn’t have explored if he had other viable avenues. Miller’s skeptical face and frown of distaste said enough about what he thought of the plan.

  “Let’s talk about that later,” Miller growled as he eased back onto his chair. “If you’re done stalling, I’m waiting to hear about the incident earlier.”

  Silence dominated the room as Jason stared out the window behind Miller. The thin outline of a short, decorative stonewall sat at the garden’s edge. Beyond that, he knew, was Lake Michigan. The army of water sprites would come from that direction tomorrow. And from there, he’d take a stand.

  But that was tomorrow. And Jason still had to explain about tonight. “Did you see the demon?” he asked.

  Miller tilted his head, unsure where the question led. “I was checking Candy’s wounds,” he admitted.

  Jason smiled. “You weren’t born yet anyway, so it’s not as though you would remember.”

  Miller stiffened and jerked upright. “Are you saying you knew him?”

  The gate had shut and Jason hadn’t wanted to turn around. It was vital to take Candy inside to heal her wounds, to sweep Daria into his arm
s and tell her again how much he loved her. But he’d stood behind the gate and waited. Because he felt compelled, as though an invisible rope had chained him to the wrought-iron posts. And dread had consumed him to see the formless, amorphous mass . . . taunting him. Laughing at him.

  The demon had taken shape and exposed the intricate markings on his body for a purpose. Only the royal family and those with special powers gained those tattoos. They represented the demonic power the individual wielded. The more tattoos, the greater the power.

  Only one demon outside of the royal family had ever achieved such high status.

  “That wasn’t an ordinary demon,” Jason finally said, surprised at his hoarse voice. “That was Balthazar.”

  Miller’s jaw dropped. Then closed. Only to drop again. He sputtered, “Then—then that means . . .”

  “Yes. Alice may still be alive.”

  Chapter 16

  Daria froze in the middle of the stairway, her foot poised on the next step. She waited for them to continue, afraid to move, to even breathe. Could they hear how her heartbeat thundered, loud in her own ears?

  She’d heard their voices at the top of the stairs just as Miller asked if Jason had known the man who hunted them. Daria already knew that answer; the demon was connected to Damien somehow and had not come for her, but for Jason. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop and had every intention of joining their conversation.

  Until he mentioned Alice.

  A painful lump rose to her throat. Why did this have to happen when Jason finally told her he loved her? If Alice truly lived, would Jason cast her aside? Daria shook her head violently. No. She couldn’t think like that. Still, she couldn’t stop the little seed of insecurity in her heart. Bracing herself, Daria descended the stairs.

  As she neared the doorway she heard Miller demand, “It’s been five hundred years. Are you saying she’s become immortal?” Daria could easily detect the skepticism in his tone.