Demons

by Heather Frost

  Jack slung Grandpa's limp body over one shoulder, the motion hurried but strangely graceful. Toni threw the keys to Lee. She glanced to me, and then followed Toni's clipped orders and moved to get behind the wheel.

  I watched Jack as he jogged behind his car. Jason had already popped the trunk. Jack dumped my grandfather inside and then slammed the lid down. He looked to Toni, who was on the ground, picking up the gun Far Darrig had dropped. He aimed, yelled something to Patrick, and fired the weapon.

  Patrick had thrown himself back at the last possible second. Far Darrig's face shattered with color, and he crumpled to the ground in shrieking agony. Knowing that he'd be healed in mere seconds didn't make the sight any less gruesome. Yet, more disturbing than the graphic sight was the fact that I didn't react to seeing it—I only blinked.

  As soon as Far Darrig hit the ground, Toni stepped closer, his extended arm taut and ready to shoot him again when he recovered.

  Patrick darted for me, his eyes unreadable, his face pale and drawn. He crouched before me, glancing over my shoulder at the approaching Demons. “Kate,” he said, his voice surprisingly clear. “We need to go.”

  I just stared at him through narrow, watering eyes, completely in shock.

  He swallowed hard at the sight of me.

  Toni fired the gun again behind us, growled for Patrick to just pick me up, for heaven's sake…

  “I'm so sorry,” Patrick breathed. And then his arms were around me and he hefted us both to our feet. When I swayed, he scooped me up bride-style, my knees too weak to protest, and then he turned for the car Lee had revved and running.

  The black Altima was already backed up, rolling forward, and fighting to reach the nearest exit.

  I wanted to help Patrick. I didn't want to be carried, but I had no control over my body. I was detached, and I think I was grateful. The less aware I was of my pain, the better.

  Patrick pulled open the back door. He dumped me inside, then pushed me across the backseat, making room for himself.

  Toni shot a last bullet at Far Darrig, and then he jerked his angled arm closer to his body and ran toward us, actually sliding over the hood to reach the passenger side. Before he'd even closed the door, he was ordering Lee to drive.

  She wasn't great with a stick, but I'd taught her enough that she didn't kill it. We backed away from Far Darrig's fallen body, away from the chasing Demons that were nearly upon us. Then she shifted to first and we stuttered curtly before shooting after Jack's car, out of the parking lot, away from the Illusion, and onto the Strip.

  The Demons followed us in cars, but only for a little while. Eventually they gave up. I think that happened when we were suddenly surrounded by eight Nissan Altimas of various colors. After that, the Demons backed off. We were in Guardian territory now.

  Patrick held me tightly, but I kept my face away from him. When he tried to touch my skin, make me face him, I finally spoke. My voice was dull and cracking. “I don't know if I'm contagious. You shouldn't be anywhere near me.”

  He stopped trying to touch my face. But he didn't move away. My back was against his body, and he kept pulling me closer as if that would somehow stop my world from spinning apart.

  I didn't cry, even when he started whispering how sorry he was. So, so sorry…

  I didn't acknowledge the words, because that would make them true. And they couldn't be true. He couldn't be dead. Not that quickly. Not like that. Murdered by the Demon I was supposed to have the power to save…

  My vision was still blurry, but Lee was obediently pulling up to a large house. A mansion. We weren't in the heart of Vegas anymore. I don't know how long we'd been driving. I wasn't really aware of anything. Even Patrick's desperate whispers for me to hang on meant little, if anything, to me.

  The car was shut off. Toni leaned over to hug Lee, who was shaking terribly. Patrick was opening his door, pulling me with him as he slid out. “Terence,” he said loudly. “Kate needs a doctor…”

  His words died off to me. Because Jack was looking in his trunk, asking one of the newly arrived Guardians to bring out a body bag.

  My eyes rolled. I felt Patrick clutch my sagging waist just before I lost consciousness.

  Patrick, I need you to calm down.” A voice, warm and calm.

  “Is it the virus? You said it wouldn't affect her.” A voice, frantic and worn.

  “Patrick, breathe. She's going to be fine. The virus isn't causing this.” It was the warm voice again, soothing in its familiarity.

  A new voice, colder to my ears. Clinical. “Terence is right. She's just had an emotional overload. I rinsed her eyes and scrubbed her skin, but I'm confident she's not in danger. And since the virus couldn't take hold on her cells, it's not incubating. She's not contagious, and she's not in any danger.”

  Patrick's worn voice—a deteriorated whisper—was almost disbelieving. “She's going to be okay?”

  “Yes,” Terence answered mildly, tone a little less warm and a little more rough. “She'll be fine. As I promised. But, Patrick, we need to check you.”

  “I didn't get any on me. She took it all.”

  “No, not for the virus. You've been given the antidote. A sample of your blood can give us an idea of what we need to do to construct a cure. We could make our own antidote. I have five new Guardians here, all of them infected.”

  “Can you do that here? I don't want to leave her…”

  The new voice sighed. “Very well. I'll be right back.”

  Footsteps trailed away, and I faded too.

  When I resurfaced I was more aware of my surroundings. I didn't open my eyes, but I could feel things now, not just hear them. I was lying on an uncomfortable bed. I'd been in one of these before, so I knew exactly what it was: a hospital bed.

  A muted monitor was beeping steadily. Someone was holding my hand.

  There were voices again.

  It was Lee. She was answering a question. “She'll be here soon. She just boarded the jet you sent. “She sighed loudly, obviously worried. “Shouldn't we take her to a real hospital?”

  If she received an answer, I didn't hear it.

  “What are we going to tell the police?” Toni asked timidly. “We have to tell them something. Fabricate some story.”

  Terence sighed. “A mugging gone wrong, perhaps? He was following a teenage runaway. It's a believable story…”

  “You can't put that kind of pressure on Kate,” Patrick argued thinly, his voice the closest to me. The fingers around my hand flexed. “Even if it's just a story, she'll have to live with it.”

  “Because it's so close to the truth, you mean?” a new voice asked. The French accent was familiar, though.

  The hand around mine vibrated with barely restrained emotion, but before anything could erupt, Terence was speaking warningly. “Claire… Patrick… Both of you must understand that this night has been a terrible ordeal for each of you. Try to show some compassion…”

  I drifted again. I couldn't think of a reason to stay there, when oblivion was so much better.

  I came close to surfacing once, when I felt moist lips on my face, his familiar mouth pressing enticingly against my unresponsive skin. “I love you, Kate,” he whispered to an otherwise empty room. “Please, please come back… I need you to wake up… I need you, Kate. Please… please don't blame me. I'm so sorry…”

  Blame him? For what? And then I remembered. My Grandpa was dead. I slipped away again, even though of course I didn't blame Patrick. I don't blame you…

  And then I heard the voice that could summon me back. The one that didn't make sense for me to hear, because I knew that I hadn't been moved, and she couldn't be here.

  “Kate? Kate Bennett, you wake up this second. You're scaring us all to death.”

  I peeled my eyes back, wincing against the bright light. I stared up at my grandma's face, seeing that it was stiffer than usual. Her aura was darker than usual too, but her eyes managed to stay the same. Both loving and scolding. Grateful and grieved.r />
  “I'm sorry, Grandma,” I whispered, my voice cracking from disuse. “I'm so sorry.”

  “You stop that, girl,” her voice was firm. “What happened to Henry—to your grandpa—it wasn't your fault. You hear me? It wasn't your fault.”

  It wasn't until she forgave me that I realized I had been blaming myself. That's why I hadn't allowed myself to wake up. I didn't deserve to wake up.

  It was amazing how those words spoken in her uniquely husky voice had the power to release me, even though I knew a small part of myself would blame me forever.

  I sniffed loudly as the tears began to fall, and then I reached for her. She leaned closer, wrapped her arms around me as I put my arms around her neck. I held her tightly—felt her tremble—and I knew she needed to hold me as much as I needed to be held by her.

  It wasn't until she finally pulled back that I realized we weren't alone. That Patrick was still sitting faithfully at my side, watching me with hallow eyes. Toni and Lee were standing near the door to the small hospital room, and Jack was by the monitor that was keeping track of my every heartbeat.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  My grandmother squeezed my hands while Toni cleared his throat. “We're still in Vegas, if that's what you mean. Only barely, though. This is a Guardian facility, one of Terence's bases. He's got one here, one in Oregon, and one in Cali—”

  “Remember the mansion?” Lee interrupted. I nodded. “That's where we are,” she told me, casting Toni a disapproving look.

  Jack spoke next. “You gave us a scare, though. Holy dooley, girl…” He just shook his head.

  “How long have I been out?”

  Patrick answered that one, his voice meager and a little too abrupt. “Nearly six hours. We were getting worried.”

  “Getting?” Toni laughed once, without humor. “Patrick was ready to start punching through some walls.”

  “I'm sorry.” I shot my Guardian a contrite look over my arm, but that seemed to bother him more than anything else.

  That's when it suddenly hit me that my grandma was here, in Vegas, with a bunch of Guardians standing all around her.

  Grandma seemed to read my thoughts. She patted my hand. “Yes, dear. No more secrets. I know everything.”

  “But… how?”

  “Lee called a few hours ago. She told me something had happened here in Vegas. That you were in a hospital and you were going to be fine, but your grandpa was… he'd been shot. She told me that her mother had connections with a private plane agency, and that a plane was waiting for me at the airport. I'm a little worried that I believed her lie so easily—I've half a mind to warn her mother.” She cast a quick look to Lee, who only shrugged in reply. Grandma focused back on me. “I left the twins with Mrs. Collins, and then I packed.”

  I looked to Lee, confused. If Lee hadn't told her about the Guardians…

  Grandma hurried to continue. “A long time ago, your grandpa suggested we write letters to each other, in case something sudden like this ever happened. It would contain our last words.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she tried to smile. “I used to tease him that his was so much longer than mine. His letter explained everything. An appended section told me about you, how special you are.” She shrugged. “I called Lee back, told her I knew everything. I got the real story about what happened, and then I got on the plane and came straight here.”

  I struggled with my emotions, but I was clearly losing. “Are you mad? That he never told you?”

  “Hmm,” she considered briefly, but it was more teasing than anything else. “At first, maybe. But now I see the wisdom in it. I am upset that you didn't tell me anything, though. You're not supposed to keep secrets from your grandmother.”

  I swallowed hard. My words still had to fight to get out. “So what now?”

  She squeezed my hand. “We mourn. We go home. We cry some more. And slowly we heal. What else can we do?”

  I knew she was right. Partly because I knew from experience that she spoke the truth. But mostly I trusted her because she was my grandma, and she was the one person in this room suffering more than I was right now.

  Jason needed to fly back home for a calculus test, so the jet my grandmother had arrived in was being prepped for the flight back home. Terence and some Guardian doctor woman with a no-nonsense voice cleared me for travel. Grandma wanted to get back to the twins, who had yet to learn about Grandpa's death, as soon as possible. Lee also needed to get home before her mother grounded her for eternity. (She was out in the hall, trying to calm her down now. Funny, how the words I'm in Vegas hadn't done the trick.) Patrick would be coming back with us on the plane, leaving Jack and Toni on car duty.

  While my grandmother made final plans for Grandpa's body and the fabricated story of his murder, Claire—the French Guardian—popped into my room to check up on me.

  She still looked beautiful, but there was an anger in her eyes too. I guessed that her assassination attempt had failed, but I didn't dare ask her for details. I didn't want her to bite my head off.

  After learning that I was just fine, she straightened her shoulders and spoke firmly. She kept casting looks to Patrick, to see how he'd react to her words. “Terence has asked me to become your third Guardian. Such security is usually never offered to a single Seer, but as you are the Demon Lord's latest project, the more protection you can get, the better your chances of survival will be.”

  Patrick didn't seem thrilled with the idea. These two Guardians rubbed each other wrong, it was obvious. But Toni—who couldn't take his eyes off her—looked pleased.

  I gave a grateful nod. “Thank you. I would appreciate your help.”

  She bowed her head. “It's that or relocate you—which would perhaps be the better alternative. But Terence assured me that you would be reluctant to relocate.”

  “Yes, I would be.”

  She shrugged. “It's probably for the best. According to Terence, we'd end up relocating half your city, you have so many friends the Demon Lord could torture.”

  “Um… thanks.”

  She gave a last bow and turned quickly to see Toni still staring. She actually grunted at him. “Don't even think about it. I'm too old for you.”

  Toni grinned. “I'm older than I look,” he assured her with a wink.

  She stepped right up to him and said moderately, “I was born in 1430. I dare you to beat that.”

  Toni looked a little shocked, but he overcame it quickly. “I've always liked older women.”

  She gave him a last look, then moved out of the room without another word.

  Jack rolled his eyes and stepped around the bed. He stooped in to give me a quick hug. “I'll be in touch,” he promised. “I'm staying with the body, until things with the authorities get cleared up.”

  “Thank you, Jack,” I whispered into his shoulder. “For everything.”

  “No worries, Kate. No worries.” He patted my arm, then shook Patrick's hand before he was gone too.

  Toni stood around for a second, but then he wordlessly scooted out to give us some privacy.

  As soon as the door fell closed, Patrick looked up at me, taking my hand easily. “Are you sure you feel up to flying?”

  I squeezed his fingers. “I'm sure. I just want to get home. I need to be with Jenna and Josie.”

  He nodded once, and the despair he'd been fighting against won. His head fell slowly onto my nearest leg, his forehead pressing firmly against the textured blanket. “I'm so sorry, Kate,” he whispered brokenly. “If I'd moved faster…”

  I continued to hold his hand, but my free fingers sank into his hair, trying to soothe him. My voice was surprisingly calm. “Patrick, you aren't responsible for what happened. You didn't kill him. Far Darrig did that.”

  “He's my brother. I should have stopped him. I should have stopped him from becoming this.”

  “You aren't responsible for him. For what he's done. We each have a life to live. Our own choices to make…” My voice drifted, and
then I spoke haltingly—fear leaking into my voice. “The Demon Lord isn't going to be happy with me, is he?”

  Patrick finally looked up, his eyes hard. “He's not going to get to you, Kate. I promise.”

  I nodded. Not that I entirely believed him. But I loved him. And in the end, that was all that really mattered.

  Grandpa's funeral was that weekend. To say that it was a hard day would be a terrible understatement. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like if I hadn't had Grandma. She was so strong and dignified. Even when she cried, she was someone to look up to.

  The twins were still in shock. They cried, but it had been so sudden. His death hardly seemed real. The story was horribly simple—he'd been killed during an attempted robbery while coming to fetch me and Lee. The twins didn't doubt the story, and surprisingly they didn't seem to blame me. But maybe that was just because they hadn't fully realized he was gone yet.

  It wasn't until we'd left the church and we were at the graveside service. That's when it hit them. It wasn't when his casket was lowered into the ground. It wasn't when a soldier began to play “Taps” in the distance. It wasn't until Grandma accepted the carefully folded flag that Josie finally burst into tears. I was already holding Jenna, who'd started to cry with the music, and Grandma was clearly occupied with her own sorrow. But Patrick was there, sitting on the front row at Grandma's insistence. He gathered Josie into his arms, and when he looked to me, I saw so many emotions in his wet eyes. He was feeling our heart-ache—that much was obvious. He felt guilty that he was sitting with our family, when it had been his brother that had pulled the trigger. He was remembering his own losses. He wanted to hold me.

  I gave him a thin smile, and he swallowed before giving me a nod. I don't know if he understood my silent message of love, but I watched as he tenderly whispered in my sister's ear, trying to calm her.

  Jack was sitting behind us, and I could hear his sniffling, though he tried to hide it. He kept putting his hand on Grandma's shoulder. They'd become close over the past few days, planning the funeral, sorting things out with the police. I had to wonder how often he'd been through losing Seers. How many friends he'd lost and mourned. Immortality had a terrible price.