Demons

by Heather Frost

  Why hadn't Grandpa told me? He'd probably known all along that this was why Far Darrig was after me. And he'd lied to me. He hadn't told me I saw things differently, and he'd let me write off my time-travel incident, like it didn't matter at all.

  I tried to keep my anger in check. Quite frankly, I could worry about Grandpa's lies later. Right now, I needed to try to focus on Patrick.

  What if I told Patrick everything and he could use his emotions to guide me to his past? If I could get to him before his death, before he made the choice to become a Guardian… the only problem with that, of course, was if he didn't become a Guardian, we would never meet. It was hard to wrap my mind around. Could that even work? And then, of course, I wouldn't ever know him. But if I was going to lose his love anyway… I'd keep it open as an option, something to think about, but it would be a last resort.

  True, I'd made promises to Terence to keep this quiet. But what were a couple promises to a near stranger when I was dealing with Patrick's life? In the end, there would be no debate. I wouldn't be my grandpa; not if sharing the truth could help Patrick at all.

  There had to be a way. I felt quite confident that I needed to start with Clyde. If I could question him… maybe get the name of his contact, hear the rumor from the actual source… maybe I could get on the trail of a cure. For the moment, it was my best thought.

  Not that I had a lot of time to formulate this stuff.

  Terence was soon leaving, and he offered to drive me home. Patrick was obviously tired, so I accepted the ride. I didn't want to leave him, but I knew staying here constantly wasn't an option. I had a Demon to meet up with.

  Patrick and I murmured quiet good-byes on one side of the room while the other Guardians tried to pretend we weren't there.

  He held me tightly. I ran my fingers through his hair, told him how much I loved him; I promised to come by tomorrow, and he smiled gratefully. “I'll be waiting,” he breathed against my mouth. He planted an easy kiss on my lips, and then a second, more meek one against my forehead, smoothing the tension out of the muscles beneath my skin.

  I closed my eyes and leaned into him, curling his thick brown locks behind his ear. “Call me if you need anything. Please?”

  “I will,” he promised, almost contritely. He pulled back, tapping a single finger against the tip of my nose. “Promise me you'll do the same.”

  “I don't want to disturb you,” I protested.

  He cut me off with a forced smile. “At least promise you'll call Toni. I won't get any rest if I think you're afraid to call.”

  I made a big show of my surrender, rolling my eyes and everything. “Fine. I promise.”

  “Thank you.” He kissed me once more, but this wasn't a fast brush, like most of our kisses had been today. This one was controlled by the emotions he'd been struggling so hard to keep inside. Pain. Fear. Desperation. Worry. Love. Even anger was there. His lips moved slowly around mine, and I knew he was trying to be strong. It wasn't a fierce kiss, exactly. Just deep. Moving. It was everything. It was what we both needed.

  It ended too soon. Patrick broke it, and at first I wasn't sure why. I opened my eyes, focused on his, and saw how brightly the clear blue was shining. He was biting back something, trying to push a grimace into a smile.

  He was trying not to cry.

  I swallowed hard, touched my hand to the side of his face, and he closed his eyes tightly. My fingers brushed against his skin, and I felt the tenseness gradually fade. He ducked his head, and my hand lowered with him.

  His head suddenly twisted, and my hand shifted to rest over his parted lips. “I love you,” he whispered into my palm. Every inch of my skin tingled, and I could feel my own tears building up, wanting to escape.

  But by the time his eyes opened and he was looking at me, my emotions were under control. I gave him my most tender smile, and I embraced him a last time, breathing easily against his ear. “I love you, Patrick.”

  It was so hard to let go and leave him. Sitting in Terence's car, all I could feel was the emptiness. My fingers and hands were empty—there was nothing to cling to. My arms felt strangely weightless, because there was nothing to hold on to.

  So I hugged my stomach tightly and prayed for inspiration. I wasn't going to live like this forever. I wasn't going to let him go.

  Terence dropped me off at the curb in front of my house, and we said quick good-byes. He told me to call if I had any further questions or concerns. I was having a hard time keeping it together, so I simply nodded and slipped out of the car. It was just after dinnertime, and though I hadn't eaten, I wasn't hungry. My emotions were frazzled; my brain was overloaded. I heard Terence's car pull swiftly away, and I was partway up the driveway before I saw the front door swing open. Grandpa stepped out onto the porch, his aura confused, his face unreadable.

  I took a deep, trembling breath and clenched my hands into fists. I was still irrationally angry at him for lying to my face, and that anger spiked the moment I saw him standing there in his worn overalls.

  He waited to speak until I was almost to the porch steps. “Kate, what's wrong?” He pulled the door closed as he spoke.

  I didn't answer. I climbed the steps and tried to brush past him, but he grabbed my nearest elbow, halting me. “Kate? What's happened?”

  I jerked away, backing up a step to face him. “I don't really feel like discussing it with you,” I retorted sharply.

  He looked like he'd been kicked in the face. His aura flashed with hurt and incomprehension. “Whose car was that?” he asked at last. “Where's Patrick?”

  My lips pressed together as my hands shook. My eyes suddenly filled with tears—the tight lid I'd been keeping on my emotions for the past few hours ruptured in an instant. “He's dying, Grandpa. Patrick's really sick, just like Clyde said, and the Guardians can't help him. That was Terence, their supervisor, and he confirmed everything. The disease is real—Guardians are dying. And Patrick's infected. He's only got a few days to live.” I bit off the last words, my throat too constricted to speak anymore.

  Grandpa kept peeking at my aura, and I think what he saw there kept him from approaching me, even though it was obvious he wanted to take me into his arms. “What's the plan? How can I help?”

  I half laughed through my sheen of tears. “Help? How can you help? Are you serious? Why didn't you help me by telling me the truth?”

  His whole face twisted in confusion. “Tell you what?” he asked cautiously.

  “You've known all along that Far Darrig wants me because I'm different. Why didn't you tell me? And why lie about what happened Friday? I went back in time but instead of telling me—warning me of the danger—you shrug it off, let me believe it would be a one-time thing—an accident?” I sucked in a breath and swiped my hand over my wet eyes.

  He held out a peaceful hand. “Kate, I didn't mean to hurt you…”

  His words faded as I shook my head ruefully. “You made a promise to them. I understand.”

  His eyes became hooded in an instant. “Do you think a promise to the Guardians would honestly keep me from protecting you?”

  “That's what you did. Terence told me about the danger of traveling into my own lifetime. Weren't you worried I might end up having another ‘accident,’ and end up in one of Jenna's or Josie's memories?”

  “It was improbable that it would happen again. Frankly, I was shocked you stumbled upon it accidentally at all.”

  “And you thought a lie would protect me?”

  “Yes.” His voice was fierce, but his face softened almost instantly. He blew out his breath and turned away from me. He lowered himself onto the cement steps and gazed out across the deserted street, his thin hair lifting gently in an unexpected breeze. I watched his profile as he spoke slowly, my anger evaporating as I saw the hurt in his aura overwhelm every other color. “There is a pain I've felt every day since losing your parents,” he whispered. “A pain that none of you have had to feel—not your grandmother, not the twins, not even you.”
He shook his head. “I was just trying to keep you from bearing what I've had to struggle with since the accident. I'm sure it's something you've already considered now that you know the truth.”

  When I remained silent, he glanced up at me. “You want to save them. But you can't without sacrificing your own life.”

  He turned away again, shoulders dropping. “It was my first thought as we rushed to the emergency room. When I saw my son's lifeless body, and your mother's… when I saw you lying on that hospital bed, Kate. I nearly told your grandmother everything, then and there, so I could access her memory and change the events of the day. I was ready to sacrifice myself. I reconsider my decision every day.”

  Though my eyes still burned, I wiped the last tear off my face as he paused.

  He snorted vaguely. “You're probably wondering why I didn't change things. I'm an old man. I've lived a long, good life. Why not give up my life for your parents? Why not save you from ever becoming a Seer?” He looked my way once more, his eyes blurry with moisture. “I'm a stubborn man, but there are a few things I've learned in life I'll never dispute. Destiny exists, Kate. I'm not talking about fate—the idea that every moment, every decision in your life is mapped out for you, and there's nothing you can do to change your design. I'm talking about the concept of destiny, that there is a purpose for everything, and every person has a purpose that can't be frustrated. Do you understand the difference?”

  “I think so,” I whispered, though I wasn't sure I did.

  “We can change the past, Kate—Seers like us have that ability. But we can't change the destiny that guides a person's life experience. I could have saved your parents from that accident. But would they still be alive today? If their part on this world was over… if you were meant to become a Seer… my sacrifice would have done nothing to disrupt destiny.”

  “Nothing's ever one hundred percent,” I said, pathetically stubborn.

  He nodded. “And that's why every day I wonder if I made the right decision to let destiny take its course. And I assume I'll be second-guessing myself for the rest of my life. I just wanted to save you from that for as long as I could.”

  We were silent for a few long minutes, but eventually my anger was exhausted. I was too tired to remain so upset.

  I moved to sit on the stair beside him, and in seconds his arm was wrapped firmly around my shoulders.

  “I'm so sorry about Patrick,” he said, wisely choosing to avoid the topic of my parents and our special abilities. “I don't know if Clyde can find out anything more, but I can ask him to start digging for information. He has some Demon contacts that might know something.”

  “Thank you,” I mumbled.

  His hand rubbed my arm. “I love you, Kate. We're not going to give up on Patrick.”

  When Patrick came walking into American lit the next day, I could barely believe my eyes. He arrived just before the teacher did, so there wasn't much time to talk.

  Aaron was still sitting across the circle from us, but he gave us both meaningful nods. I gave him an exaggerated wince when I saw his black eye and puffy lip. Just like any self-respecting male, he only grinned. I shook my head at him and then tried to pay attention to what Mr. Benson was trying to say.

  But all I could really focus on was Patrick. Sitting so close but still impossibly far. There was no way we could get away with having a conversation, yet that was the only thing I wanted to do.

  When class finally ended and I'd gathered my things, Patrick was already standing and waiting, backpack slung over one shoulder. “Good morning,” he said. He looked tired. But his voice seemed almost perfectly normal. If I hadn't known he only had days to live, I wouldn't have ever thought he was even sick.

  While I zipped up my bag, I glanced around to see that most of our fellow students had already managed to slip out. The rest were clustered near the door, talking loudly. They wouldn't hear a thing. “Patrick, what are you doing here? You can't come to school.”

  “Why not?” he asked, honestly confused.

  Because you're sick. You're dying.“You know why not. Don't make me say it.”

  His eyes were sympathetic, but his tone remained falsely light. “Terence assured me that this is perfectly safe. I can't expose anyone else, so I may as well spend the day doing what I want.”

  “You want to spend the day here? At school?”

  He shrugged a single shoulder; his eyes didn't waver from mine. “I want to spend my day with you, Kate. Wherever you go.”

  My heart reacted to his fervent words, but I kept my gaze disapproving. “You should be resting. Or at least have told me that you felt up to doing something. We could both ditch together.”

  “And why would we do that?” he asked, eyes dancing just a little. “Did you have something else in mind?”

  “I could think of something to do with you. But you shouldn't spend your last…” My voice trailed off, and I was unable to finish.

  He took a step toward me, reaching for my hand. “Kate, you can say it. It's okay.”

  “No,” I whispered, staring at our joined hands. “It's not.”

  “I'm with you. Nothing else really matters for the moment.” His head tilted obligingly to the side. “Well, except being late for second period,” he allowed.

  I snorted, but the sound was barely audible. “You're hopeless.”

  “I believe you've said that before.”

  “Yeah, well, you haven't changed yet.”

  We met up with Lee in second period, where Patrick was able to see her newest color in Rainbow Days—blue.

  She went the whole nine yards, once again. Blue hair, blue makeup, blue clothes, blue jewelry, blue shoes, blue backpack. I had to admit, the darker shade was a lot easier on the eyes than orange.

  Patrick reached the same conclusion, and he told her so. Lee practically beamed. “You like it, then?” she asked. “I'm curious to see what Rodney will think of it.”

  “If he could stand the orange, I think you're safe,” Patrick joked.

  Lee slapped his arm, then turned her attention to the teacher, who was calling us all to order. I was the only one who saw Patrick rubbing the spot Lee had hit, and I don't think he realized that I caught the flinch that twisted his face.

  He was in more pain than he was letting on.

  At lunch he paid more attention to the kids than ever before. He was careful to take a moment to focus on each individual, and I could see in their auras how much they adored him. How much they would miss him if I wasn't able to… I didn't want to consider that possibility.

  He even took a couple minutes for Lee, asking her about how her date with Rodney had gone. She told him about the flat tire and about the movie they'd watched at his house. It was obvious in the way her face lit up that she was pretty happy about the new possibilities. He teased her lightly about Toni, who he had to pretend he'd never met.

  I watched them interact, wondering if they'd get the chance again. Would he be able to push back the pain long enough to last another day in public? Or would the headache finally take over? Would his dying limbs finally give out and turn numb? Would he be invisible by tomorrow, unable to communicate with anyone but me and Toni?

  I needed to stop this train of thought. I was making myself depressed, and in record time.

  After school Patrick looked completely exhausted. While leaving the choir room, I worried aloud if he should be driving, but he was one step ahead of me.

  “Toni dropped me off this morning, and he hasn't stopped texting me for the last ten minutes. He's waiting around the corner, so hopefully no one will see him.”

  “Do you want me to drop you off there? You shouldn't be walking.”

  “And let Lee see him?” He chuckled. “That would complicate her life in a hurry. I can walk. I'm not a complete invalid. Besides, I need to wear myself out so I can take a nap.”

  “I think you can check that one off the list,” I muttered a bit ruefully. But the concern was there too, and I knew he'd pick up
on it.

  He squeezed my hand. “If you say so.” His voice turned serious. “Will you come over later?”

  “Of course. But it depends on how long you sleep—Jenna's piano recital is tonight.”

  His head tipped. “Right. I might just have to meet you there. It's at six, right?”

  “Yeah. But don't force yourself out if—”

  “I wouldn't miss it for anything.” He grinned tiredly. “Can you imagine what she'd do to me?”

  “Forgiveness wouldn't come for a while,” I agreed.

  We stepped outside and wandered to the sidewalk. Patrick tugged on my hand, pulling me to the side and out of the student traffic. Once out of the way, he turned to face me, cradling my face with both hands. His clear eyes stared into mine, as if he were trying to memorize every speck of color in them. He then swept his gaze over every plane and curve of my face, searing them into his memory.

  After an intense moment of scrutiny and heart racing, he smiled. It was just a half-grin, but there was no denying that he thought he was the luckiest man on the planet. My knees felt far too weak.

  “Who needs sleep?” he murmured teasingly, bending our heads together until our foreheads touched. His rough thumbs stroked my cheeks, and his other fingers brushed at the strands of hair that slipped down. “I don't want to waste a second on rest,” he whispered seriously, the palm of one hand cupping my cheek perfectly. “I just want to be with you.”

  I pinched my eyes closed and pulled in a steadying breath. My own hands rested on his firm chest, rubbed up to his shoulders until my fingertips were stroking his prominent jaw line. “Don't be ridiculous. You need sleep. You need to keep strong.”

  I felt his whole body shift in his sudden exhale. His head lifted, but only so he could twist and place a kiss against my left temple. “I need you,” he argued fluidly, the tip of his nose nuzzling my hairline.

  My eyes scrunched tighter, and breathing steadily became increasingly difficult as his lips lingered on my skin. I wanted to give in. I wanted to stay with him. But I'd been counting on this time to start my investigation. Saving Patrick's life was more important than spending a few hours with him.