by H. D. Gordon
Elian nodded slowly, his attention fixed on me in a way that made me curiously self-conscious. “We have that in common,” he replied. “What else?”
With a deep breath, I pushed myself to a seated position, pleased when the world only tilted instead of spinning. “I have a family that I love more than anything in the world,” I admitted, and was surprised at the words. They’d come out as if of their own accord.
Elian leaned back in his chair, his hands folding neatly in his lap. “We don’t have that in common,” he mumbled.
Though he said this with little inflection, in the same endlessly droll accent that I was yet to pinpoint the source of, there was something very sad about it to me.
“Surely there is someone you love,” I said.
The Demon’s dimples deepened, but it was sadness I glimpsed behind his hazel eyes. “I love myself plenty,” he replied.
I considered this, considered for just a moment how very different my life would be if I didn’t have my family. Certainly, things would be easier, but I wasn’t convinced that meant it would be better. My family drove me mad at times, but I literally couldn’t imagine a life without them.
I took another sip of the water Elian had given me, gulping down the cool liquid and wondering if I looked as shitty as I still felt.
“Are you ready to go home?” he asked, apparently done with the probing topics, which was fine by me.
“Yes, but I think you have something of mine, and I would like it back.”
Elian smiled and stood, wandering over to a bookshelf on the far side of the room and picking up the revolver that belonged on my right hip. He brought the weapon over to me, looking down at it as he did so.
“Where did you get them?” he asked as he handed it back to me.
He watched with keen interest as I unbuttoned my jacket and slipped the gun into the holster hidden on my hip. The weight of it provided a nice balance to that of its brother, and I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as the return of it settled me.
“They were a gift from my father.”
“Is he alive?”
I sighed, closing up my jacket and concealing the weapons once more. Then, I pulled my hair out of its band and ran my fingers through it before securing it atop my head again. “Last I checked.”
Eli nodded. “So he’s not part of this beloved family you mentioned?”
“Why do you care?” I snapped.
Eli shrugged. “I don’t. Not really.”
I stood, glad that my feet held steady beneath me. My body was still very much broken, but I could manage getting home. I hoped.
“Good,” I replied, and headed toward the stairs that led to the lower level of the loft.
“Let me give you a ride,” he said. “You’re still hurt.”
I resisted the urge to grip the shoulder I’d fallen on and squared my posture instead. “I can make it on my own now,” I said, and paused. “But thank you.”
Elian stood as well, and approached me over by the stairs, his movements smooth and easy. “I know you can make it,” he said. “But I really don’t mind.”
My stomach fluttered in a way that was not unpleasant, and I had to swallow once before I could answer.
Then, my stupid mouth got ahead of me, as it seemed to be making a habit of. “I don’t need your help,” I told him. There was no bite to the words; just a statement of fact.
The Demon nodded only once. “I suppose you believe you don’t need anyone’s.”
I swallowed, not comfortable with the way I wanted to squirm when he got close to me, the way the dimples in his cheek always caught and held my eyes.
“And I suppose we have that in common, too, Mr. Elian,” I said.
He grinned, and my stomach fluttered again at the sight of it.
“Please,” he said, “Call me Eli.”
My head tilted in a Wolfish manner. “Fine,” I agreed, fighting the smile that wanted to tug up my lips. “As long as you’ll call me Dita.”
The Demon held out his hand, and I took it into mine. “It’s a deal,” he said.
Chapter 9
I shifted just outside the limits of Faerport. I was faster in my Wolf form, and the shift would also help to mend the bones that had been broken in my wrist and the injury to my shoulder.
It still hurt, though, and I wondered if I should have just taken Eli up on the offer of a ride home. In fact, I spent a concerning amount of time on the way home thinking about the Demon and our interactions in general.
I did my best to push these thoughts from my head, because they had nothing to do with anything, and I had enough on my plate without contemplating Demons and their apparent ability to simultaneously annoy and intrigue me.
It took me much longer to make it back to the house than it normally would have for all my injuries and the fact that I was headed out of drunken territory and into that of the hangover, but eventually, I made it.
Next time, I would not be so stubborn; I would let the handsome Demon give me a ride.
And there he was, invading my thoughts again.
As I finally crossed into our land, shifting back into my mortal form so I could scale the stone wall that ringed the perimeter, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to be home.
Zara found me before I had been on the property for five minutes, which was a testament to how seriously she took her duties of protecting our land.
I knew from the look on her face what she was going to say before she said it, but I asked anyway, hoping I was wrong.
“Did he wake?”
Zara shook her head, her dark eyes sympathetic. She didn’t question my injuries or what had happened to me.
My teeth clenched and I sent up a silent prayer to any God that might be listening.
I’d already lost my cool once, though, and the family was counting on me to be strong, so I clapped Zara on the shoulder and headed into the house.
Before going in search of the others, I cleaned myself up a bit, brushing my teeth and changing my clothes so that the Wolves of the family wouldn’t pickup the stench of vomit clinging to me.
Then, I found them all gathered in Demarco’s bedroom, as I’d known they would be.
Just outside the bedroom windows, the sun was finally beginning to rise on what had felt like an endless night. Inside, Devon was asleep in a chair near the wall, while Kyra and Cora were curled up together on the loveseat near the windows. Even Delia was here. She had shifted into her Wolf form and curled up at the bottom of Demarco’s bed.
And there was Demarco, lying unconscious on the bed, in much the same position as the last time I’d seen him. His body had already begun the healing process, and the swelling in his face was far less gruesome. Someone had changed him into his nightclothes and combed his dark hair. But he was still in a bad way; one did not have to be a healer to see that.
Devon’s eyes popped open as I walked in, despite the fact that I took pains to be quiet. His weary voice filled my head.
“You’re back,” he said.
I nodded, a wave of guilt crashing over me.
“He didn’t wake up,” I replied.
Devon shook his head. He didn’t ask about my injuries, either.
Kyra stirred as we held our silent conversation, and the Sorceress sat up from where she’d been resting on Cora’s lap, rubbing her eyes.
“Morning, D,” she said.
I gave her a nod of greeting.
“We should talk,” I told them, keeping my voice low.
Delia was still in her Wolf form at the foot of Demarco’s bed, but her ears swiveled now and her head lifted from where it rested between her paws. She looked at me with her bright eyes and then turned away, shifting her furry body so that she was looking the other way.
I shook my head at this but left the room without comment, Kyra and Devon following on my heels.
We fixed ourselves some tea and then gathered in the library, where Kyra used her magic to spark a fire
in the hearth. Then we all stood close around it, steaming cups clutched in our hands.
I spoke first, because I knew they were waiting for me to. “I think it was Cartier,” I said, and met both of their stares.
“We can’t know that,” Devon said. “Why would Cartier do something like that? What purpose would beating up Demarco serve?”
I stared into the flames, letting out a slow breath. “Because of the way we dismissed his henchmen, that creepy ass Mr. Bain.” I shook my head. “We can’t know for sure until Demarco wakes up, but I’m just saying that it is a possibility that this is how Cartier retaliated. As a warning for us to fall in line.”
Devon huffed. “But this is Demarco we’re talking about. He could have just as easily mouthed off to the wrong person.”
I nodded. “In which case, someone’s ass still needs to get beat for this.”
“Maybe,” Devon allowed, “but not before we know what happened… and not if we can avoid it. Things are running smoothly for the first time ever, and I don’t want to mess that up.”
I met my brother’s gaze with steel in my own. “This is not something we can let slide,” I said.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Devon replied.
“No, you’re saying that you don’t want to get justice for Demarco, that you think I’m looking for trouble or something.”
Devon lifted his chin. “This isn’t The Mound, D. We can’t just go beating the shit out of anyone we feel inclined to.”
“Fuck off with that cowardly bullshit,” I spat.
Devon’s blue eyes narrowed, and I knew whatever came out of his mouth next would be as ugly as what had just come out of mine.
Kyra jumped in, because she knew it, too. “Whoa,” she said. “Let’s all just take a deep breath. It’s been a long and stressful night, and we all know that you both just want what’s best for the family. No one in this room is the enemy, so let’s not act like it.”
Devon and I had been staring each other down, but we both looked away now, a bit ashamed that we needed Kyra to remind us of such things.
“I just have this feeling in my gut,” I said. “I think Cartier was behind it, and if he was, we need to be prepared.”
“And I think we need to be sure before we go taking drastic actions,” Devon replied.
I tipped my head back a bit. “But you acknowledge drastic actions might be needed?”
“Perhaps they are,” Kyra cut in. “But until we know for sure how Demarco ended up in his current state, Devon is right.” My best friend gave me a sympathetic look as she continued. “But so are you. We’ll tell Zara and the others that we need to be extra tight with security until we figure things out, and I will get to work on putting some extra protection spells in place around the house, that way, no one will get in without us knowing.” She placed a hand on my shoulder, and I covered it with my own.
“We’ll keep everyone safe,” she promised. “And when Demarco wakes up, if the Gods are good at all, he’ll tell us that he got into a fight with some of those boys he’s been hanging with… Surely that’s more likely than Carson Cartier taking such offense to your dismissal of his propositions and doing something like this.”
I forced myself to take a deep breath, and then I slipped an arm around both of them and pulled them close. My older brother and best friend wrapped their arms around me as well, and we stood for a moment in unity. When I stepped back, I straightened my jacket and nodded. It was decided, then.
“For Mr. Cartier’s sake,” I said, “I sure hope you’re right.”
Devon sighed, his face grim as he shook his head. “I hope so, too, little sister,” he said. “For all our sakes.”
A dark shadow had fallen over the house the moment we’d found Demarco so bloodied up on the doorstep, and the longer he remained asleep in his bed, the darker it seemed to loom.
There were tasks to attend to, as always, but I couldn’t concentrate on any of them long enough to really accomplish anything. I kept returning to Demarco’s room to check on him, and kept being disappointed in my checking.
As the hour stretched onward, a terrible possibility occurred to me, and though I did my best to keep the thought from fully surfacing in my mind, it broke through nonetheless.
What if my little brother never woke up?
It was too horrible to think about. Too scary to look right in the face.
By the time the sun was setting again, I had taken to spending time with Ada and Analise in order to busy myself. The twins always had a way of making me smile through the toughest times, and knowing they were safe was a comfort that soothed a cold soul.
As another day gave way to night, I sat out in the rose gardens behind the house while the twins chased each other over the lawn. As pups, they needed to spend at least some time in Wolf form everyday, if for no other reason than to expend some of the endless energy they were always full of.
But even they could feel it; the somber mood that had fallen over the place, and as Ada presented me the fifth shriveled dandelion she’d plucked since we’d been out here, she asked about it in her sweet little voice.
At eight years old, Ada was becoming more of a serious child, while Ana was going in the opposite direction, and watching the two of them grow never ceased to amaze me.
“Is Marco gonna be okay, Dita?” Ada asked in my head as I took the dandelion from her muzzle and smiled in thanks. Her ears swiveled as her head tilted in question.
I had to swallow past a lump that was trying to form in my throat. “Of course he is,” I said aloud, distracting myself by picking a leaf out of her fur and forcing my smile to remain. “He’s going to be just fine, so don’t you worry about it.”
“See?” Analise’s voice piped in. “I told you, Ada. Dita will take care of us. Now, come on. Catch me if you can.”
Analise bounced up and down on her paws, her fluffy tail flicking back and forth behind her as she held her backside into the air and lowered her head in a playful challenge to her twin sister.
Ada glanced at me once before following, and even in her Wolf form, I knew from her face that she was apprehensive. But, she also trusted me, and after a moment that made my heart ache, she bounded off to give chase to Analise.
I almost felt bad for lying to the child, but it would do no good to have them worrying, too. We needn’t cross any bridges before we came to them.
I remained where I was, envying the carefree world I’d finally managed to create for them, and vowing that I would do everything in my power to maintain that normality. I’d already succeeded in getting them out of The Mound and away from the destructive lifestyle of our father, and I could see us through this. I would, because I had to.
I was just getting ready to call the girls in for some supper, taking a few stolen moments to enjoy the chirping of the night bugs and the scent of salt that carried on the air from the shoreline not too far in the distance, when Kyra came jogging out of the house.
One look at her face, and I knew what she’d come to tell me. There was a massive amount of relief there, but it was underlined by a touch of dread, too.
Her violet eyes met mine and held. “Girls,” she called, and the two furry heads of Ana and Ada popped up from where they’d been roughhousing on the lawn. “Come inside. Auntie Cora put some deer stew on the table, and it’s waiting for you.”
The twins ran inside like the ravenous little Wolves that they were, shifting into their mortal forms and tracking mud through the hallways that normally would have made me cringe.
Then, Kyra turned back to me. “You come in, too, D,” she said. “Demarco just woke up.”
Chapter 10
My heart pounded as I made my way through the foyer, up the curving staircase, and down the hall to my little brother’s room.
When I got there, Delia was sitting in the chair beside Demarco’s bed, clutching his hand and swiping at the tears streaming down her face.
They turned toward me when I entered, and Deli
a gave Demarco a kiss on the forehead before scooting from the room, leaving Devon, Kyra, and me alone with our brother.
Demarco cringed a little as he met my eyes. “Hey, D,” he said.
The urge to slap the shit out of him and simultaneously wrap him up in a tight hug struck me, but I only released a heavy breath and placed a hand on his head, kissing the top of it.
“Thank the Gods,” I mumbled.
Devon and Kyra stood off to the side, tense as I took the chair Delia had vacated and looked hard at Demarco.
“What happened?” I asked.
Demarco’s eyes hooded a little as he considered his words, but spoke before I could snap at him to spit it out already.
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said, looking plenty ashamed. “I was jumped and robbed. I didn’t have much on me, but they took the watch you gave me for my last name day.”
Devon, Kyra, and I exchanged glances. “Jumped by who?” I asked. “And where. Quit stalling and answer truthfully. You might not survive a beating from me.”
With Demarco, threats were often the only thing that could break past his stubborn, tough guy shell.
He sighed heavily, as if we had not all spent the evening worrying about him. “Three Vampires,” he said. “I didn’t know them… but I shouldn’t have been where I was. Shouldn’t have listened to Terran and the other boys.”
I raised my brows, and he continued.
“We were just hanging out when Terran suggested we go down to The Ave and catch one of the weekend fights.”
“Dear Gods,” Devon mumbled. “Are you really such an idiot?”
I glanced at my older brother, and though he was clearly as annoyed with our sibling as I was, he also looked relieved… and justified, because it sounded like the gut feeling I’d mentioned was wrong, and that Carson Cartier actually didn’t have anything to do with this.
I was also relieved, but our sibling rivalry meant that I always hated it when Devon was proven right.