by Roach, D. A.
The sickness had returned. I needed to get home and drink some warm tea.
At home, I set the pumpkins on the porch and clambered in the house. Inside, I put on warm PJs and took my temperature, 101 F. Dammit, fever. I grabbed two Advil and swallowed them with a glass of water.
For the next four days, I stayed in bed, alternating between freezing and burning up. Friday I called the doctor. Surprisingly, they got me in quickly and asked for another blood draw.
“We’ll call you with the results, but we probably won’t know anything until Monday. Till then, go home, stay hydrated, Advil or Tylenol for fever, and plenty of rest.”
“No antibiotic?” I was still hopeful.
“Sorry, Cassidy, I don’t think this is bacterial.”
Back home, I drank a liter of Evian before returning to my sickbed.
***
“My God, Cassidy, what’s happened to you?” My eyes fluttered open briefly, but that was all. There was a breeze and movement. All of a sudden, I was no longer in bed, with a blanket around me. The frigid outdoor air blew on my sweat-soaked head. There were noises around me, feet crunching leaves and gravel below, a car door opening, then I was laid across a seat with the blanket drawn up around me. “I’m gonna get you help, just hold on.” The voice was familiar. But who?
We drove for a short time, and then I felt warm arms cradling me again. The rise and fall of his chest while he breathed soothed me. I felt so drowsy. It was so much easier to sleep than suffer through being awake.
“Come on Cass, almost there. Try and open your eyes, babe.” I tried, but they protested. “This will help, hold on.” He laid me on the cold ground. My eyes fluttered, trying to open. I must be dreaming. Tree branches reached down in an attempt to grab me, caress me. I knew these trees. Tyler brought me to the cemetery, but why? Was I dying?
“Dammit. Why isn’t it working?” His voice sounded desperate. His footsteps paced around, and then he knelt beside me. “Cassidy, you have to fight this. You have to want to live. Come on!” But I was too far gone, too sick and weak to call up any ounce of fight. He stood and paced again before returning to me. “I don’t want to do this, Cassidy. Come on, try.”
There was nothing in me; to fade away into nothingness was easy. I felt myself floating away from it all, detaching from my body, letting darkness engulf me. A tug at my sleeve, followed by a wetness that burned my skin, brought my attention back to my dying body. The darkness that had embraced me now rejected me. My mind became more attuned to my surroundings, and this time when my eyes fluttered, they remained open.
“Tyler?”
“Yes! Listen, Cass, I’d love to have a welcome back party, but we gotta fly.”
“What? Why?”
“Because this kind of magic draws their attention, and I’m not prepared to deal with them right now.”
What was he talking about? Them who? Surely he wasn’t talking about the other realm.
“Come on, I’ll carry you. You’re too weak to walk.” He hoisted me into his arms again and walked at a quick pace out of Blaylock Grove. As Tyler bent to set me into his Audi, I saw him through the window. Tall and muscled, wearing his leather pants—Killian. Our eyes locked as he approached. Tyler secured me and hurried to the driver’s side. The tires squealed as he sped toward the exit. Killian was stuck on the roadside, waiting for a break in the traffic. It was enough of an obstacle to allow Tyler a chance to get away.
“Do you know him?” I asked Tyler.
“No, I only know of him.” What did that mean? Was Tyler scared of Killian?
“What did you do to me back there?”
“I’ll answer your questions back at my house. For now, rest.”
I wasn’t feverish anymore, but I felt different, altered in some way—inside and out. And tired. I felt so unbearably tired. I shut my eyes for just a moment…
Chapter Eighteen
Tyler slammed his car door shut and hurried to my side of the car, opening the door.
“Cass, we’re here. C’mon, let me help you up.” He put my arm around his shoulder for support and stood. We walked up the cobblestone driveway to the front steps of the mansion I’d driven by and “researched” earlier that week.
“This is your house?”
He smiled and nodded. “Come on. Let’s go in and get you taken care of.”
Tyler punched in a code to unlock the oversized door. The inside of the mansion was breathtaking. Dark cherry wood with ornate accents covered the walls. The floor was a neutral polished marble. A chandelier with too many crystals dangled over the center of the entryway. I had only seen rooms like this in magazines. It was hard to imagine I knew someone that lived in a place like this.
“This way.” He led me through the left side hall and down another hall to the large kitchen. A small woman hurried around the room preparing a meal. Tyler propped me in the doorway and grabbed a bottled water from the fridge.
“Rosa, this is Cassidy. Cassidy, Rosa.”
We nodded at each other.
The soup she labored over smelled heavenly. Tyler peeked into the large stock pot and smiled. “I’ll need a bowl of that in half an hour for Cassidy.”
Rosa nodded again and went back to work.
Tyler wrapped a steadying arm around my waist as he led me to the upstairs. We climbed the stairs, using the railing for added support. As my hand glided along the black, wrought-iron rails, I wondered about Tyler’s mom falling from here. And him finding her on the cold marble floor below.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Your house is beautiful.”
“Thanks.” He led me to a room that was as large as the first floor of my house. There was a king-sized bed to one side, a huge TV on the opposite wall, a navy velvet couch, and three dressers of various sizes, a bookshelf, a desk, and a giant bathroom. “Do you feel like taking a shower or a bath?”
He brought me inside where I could see the bathroom. Both options sounded amazing, but I decided the bath would feel the best. “Bath, please.”
Tyler started the water to get the temperature correct and rummaged through the bathroom closet for shower gel, shampoo, and conditioner. “I hope you don’t mind smelling like me. It’s all I have.”
Anything probably smelled better than I currently did right now. The mirror showed a frightful reflection—a gaunt face, hair matted and dirty, no makeup. I looked away and decided to not check myself out again until I finished cleaning up. But having enough energy to feel embarrassed was a sign of feeling better.
“Anyway, I’ll leave you be and try to find some clothes that might fit you. Think you’ll be okay?”
“Yes, and Tyler…thanks.”
He smiled and shut the door as he left. The shower gel bubbled as I poured it into the running water. I stripped my clothes off and stepped into the colossal bath, easing into the warm, bubbly tub. Meticulously, I scrubbed every inch of my body and washed my hair twice, draining the water and refilling the tub once in between. My tattoo was covered in dried blood, and it seemed faded. Had blood oozed out of it? Once the blood was washed away, I inspected it but saw no damage to the skin. I shook it off, chalking it up as another strange reaction my body had to this tattoo.
Tyler had saved me from dying. I had felt myself slipping away, my life force expiring. It had been so unlike the comatose state I had been in back at the Clan compound. There, I’d never felt like I’d been dying; rather, it had felt like I’d been trying to live.
But how did Tyler know where I lived? How did he get in? And why did he bring me to the cemetery? And Killian…did they know each other? Vaguely I recalled him saying “that kind of magic draws their attention,” or something like that. And then there was Killian, clearly walking toward us. None of it made any sense. How did Tyler save me? How was he connected? Was he a spy for Rya? For Jace? For Killian?
A knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts. “Cassidy, I’m back with some clothes. Want me to set them inside the door?�
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Glancing down, I saw that bubbles covered all the private areas. “Sure, that’s fine. I’m almost done.”
He opened the door, and keeping his eyes downcast, he dropped the pile of clothes on the floor and quickly left.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Tyler’s muffled voice returned through the door.
I rinsed off and toweled dry, then picked up the clothes he’d brought. A guy’s old long sleeved tee and some sweats. No undergarments though. Oh well. The clothes were loose but didn’t fall off. My fingers freed the tangles from my hair, and I noticed my color had returned to my cheeks. Opening the drawers under the sinks, I looked about for something I could use as a weapon. I found a first aid kit in the lower drawer and grabbed the small pair of scissors from inside and placed it in my pants pocket. Just in case. Tyler had just saved my life, but there was still so much I didn’t know. Then I opened the door.
Tyler sat in his desk chair facing away from me, messing with his arm. He quickly pulled his sleeve over his tattooed forearm before turning toward me.
“Wow, you clean up nicely.”
“Thanks.”
“My clothes look good on you. Glad they fit.”
I wanted to check out his room for any clues that might tell me more about him. I needed him out of here. “Got a garbage bag for my old ones? I think they need to be burned.”
“Seriously? You don’t think some heavy bleach would do the trick?”
“No. I don’t. Bag please?”
While he was gone looking for a bag, I walked around his room. Small animals carved out of different stones and bone sat atop a dresser, along with a picture of Tyler at high school graduation with two buddies. Another picture of a beautiful woman sitting in the grass holding a young smiling child was framed on a different dresser. His bookshelf had about twenty books and half of them were about dealing with anger and emotions.
“Here’s your bag.”
“Thanks.” I crossed the room and shoved my dirty clothes into the trash bag.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Hey, how did you know where I lived?”
“Krav. When you didn’t show on Saturday, I told them I was worried about you. They tried calling but when you didn’t answer, they grew concerned.”
“I can’t believe they gave you my address.”
“Well, we did leave together last week…” True, we had, but it was highly improbable that a self-defense place would give out personal information. So either he was lying and found out some other way or he was persuasive and the Krav people were trusting. I didn’t know which to believe.
“And the cemetery? Why did you bring me there?”
He shifted and looked uneasy. “That’s harder to answer.”
“Try me.”
He looked around his room while he thought of how to say his next words. “Cass, when I was little, I sustained a horrible injury and almost died. My dad brought me to the same place I brought you, and that place healed me.” He let out a long breath. “So I brought you there hoping you would improve. But you didn’t, at least you didn’t improve faster than you declined. You were dying…” He looked away from me.
“What aren’t you telling me?” My voice changed to a more serious and accusatory tone.
He wouldn’t look at me.
I softened my tone, hoping that tactic might work. “Tyler, please tell me.”
He raised the sleeve on his shirt; a scab stretched up his forearm across the large tattoo. “I used my blood on your tattoo.” He shook his head and looked at me. “Sounds weird, right?” He pulled his sleeve back down. “I had no idea it would affect your tattoo the way it did. I mean, I knew my blood could help heal things, so it was worth trying, but I had only tried it on animals. Anyway, damaged skin absorbs the blood faster and easier than intact skin, and you have that long scar beneath the tattoo, it was my best chance at saving you.”
My fingers traced the faint image the Clan had tattooed on my arm. My connection to Killian, gone. His magic that healed me, gone. I felt healthier than I had this morning, but was it because Tyler’s blood was absorbed by my body and now flowing within? And why did Tyler’s blood heal…was he a Demon Hunter or something else? One answer created five more questions. And despite not understanding the big picture, I knew he had saved me, and I did not feel threatened at this moment.
Tyler walked over and stroked my tattooed arm gently, sending chills up my spine. “I’m sorry I had to do that.”
“Can I see yours again?”
He rolled up his sleeve. A line of runes trailed his forearm with daggers on each side that were topped with dragon heads. The scab followed the lines of the dagger.
As my fingers carefully traced the runes, his breath hitched.
“What do these say?”
“Each one is different. They’re kinda like wishes for my future.”
“When did you get the tattoo?”
“I got the first part when I was young, not even ten years old. More have been added with each birthday. It’s become a sort of tradition.” He pulled his sleeve down.
“That’s so early. I thought you had to be eighteen to get a tattoo?”
“Like I said, it’s like a tradition. Come on, let’s get you some of Rosa’s famous chicken noodle soup before I take you home.”
I agreed and followed him back down to the kitchen. My stomach grumbled, letting me know my appetite had returned. He grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and ladled helpings for both of us, then brought the bowls to the island. He pointed at the barstools on the other side. “Sit, I’ll be there in a sec.” Then he tore off a hunk of French bread and grabbed two Evians.
“Need help?” I offered.
“No. Sit.” He smiled as he returned with the bread and water and two spoons.
“Thanks. This smells wonderful.”
“Rosa is the best cook.” Tyler winked at Rosa. The plump, dark skinned woman blushed. “Gracías, Rosa!”
“De nada,” she said as she left the kitchen.
“So why did you bring me to your house instead of mine?” I lived closer to Blaylock Grove and he knew where I lived since he picked me up from there.
“Well, I know where everything is here. In your house, it would’ve taken me twice as long to give you the same amount of care and attention I gave you here.” It seemed like a weak excuse. What did he need to take care of me? A shower, food, clean clothes? I had all of that at home. He looked around the kitchen. “Does it bother you that I brought you here?”
“No, mostly I was just curious.” And I was still curious, but I didn’t want to make him think I didn’t believe him and start a confrontation.
After a few more bites, Tyler glanced at his watch. “We need to finish up so I can get you home.” He suddenly seemed in a hurry, but I didn’t mind because I wanted to get back home as well. My bowl was whisked away to the enormous farm sink before I had a chance to take my final bites. “Okay, let’s go.” He opened the back sliding door and waved his hand to hurry me along.
Pushing my chair in, I walked past Tyler and into the large backyard.
“Follow me.”
“Wait, I left my bag of clothes.” I turned back and opened the sliding door.
Tyler yelled in a panicked voice, “Cassidy, no! Leave them, we’re in a hurry.” But I didn’t listen. I didn’t want my nasty clothes to be left for someone else to deal with, and I was especially leery about leaving them with Tyler since he was acting suspicious. Why was he so anxious all of a sudden anyway?
In the kitchen stood a suited man with his back to me. Tyler’s footsteps approached rapidly from behind, drawing my attention to him. Why did Tyler look defeated? I followed his eyes to the source of his terror—the middle aged man now faced me.
“Unbelievable. Tyler! You’ve brought your old man a present.” That “old man” looked at me in delight, as if I were a brand new sports car. Tyler said nothing in reply. His dad continue
d, “You know, I was having such a shitty day, even came home early so it didn’t get any worse. But this…” he motioned to me, “is enough to turn the worst of days around. Tell me, where did you find Miss Kavanaugh?”
My mouth fell open. “How do you know my name?”
“Cassidy Kavanaugh, the girl who took down three demons? You’re famous! And not in a good way. See, you’re worth a pretty penny in the Demon Realm, and I have debt to pay.”
“What are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance.
Tyler’s dad continued, “You see, a few years ago I made a shady deal, and this…” he searched for the word, “witch has held it over my head, controlling me like a damn puppet. But you…you are my ticket to being debt free and out of Rya’s grasp.”
“Rya?” My God. Tyler betrayed me! Had his dad sent him after me? Why else would he bring me here to this trap? His eyes were downcast; he was unable to face me. Krav probably didn’t tell him my address, he probably already knew it. Lies. And the light flirtatious banter we shared was not the start of a relationship–it was a con. And now I was out of moves.
“You know the name? Wait…of course you do. Tyler, lift her sleeve.”
Tyler reluctantly came over and reached for my arm. I yanked it away.
“Don’t touch me!” The words of warning spit from my lips. I did not want him touching me in any way. “I’ll do it myself.” I yanked up the sleeve and held out my arm. The tattoo that once had seemed so vivid was now ashen grey, fading away. My eyes were drawn to Tyler’s submissive stance.
“Rya said you were siding with the Demon Hunters, helping in some way. Looks like they marked you, huh?”
“Why would she want me? I’m just a regular person.”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. She doesn’t include me in the messy details.” He turned toward Tyler. “Take her downstairs and lock her in the white room. I need to let Rya know we need to meet.”