Staked!

by Candace Wondrak

  “The Council,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw Claire’s car in the driveway. “I’ll have Michael call them. Hopefully he’s home and not at the hospital.” I went to the passenger’s side, finding that it wasn’t locked. If I didn’t sit down soon, I’d just pass out and fall over. As I crawled inside, I left the door open, in case I needed to throw up.

  Which, judging by the feeling in my stomach, might happen soon.

  Claire searched her car for the keys. They weren’t there, so she ran back in the house. I didn’t keep track of her, because it was at that moment when everything decided to come up. I bent to my right as I felt it hurling up my esophagus, emptying my stomach on the pebble driveway. My eyes, unfocused as they were, spotted blood among the bile.

  I was dying. For real, this time.

  I hurriedly wiped my mouth before Claire came back, keys in hand. I shut the door, thankful that she hadn’t seen the pile of puke beside her car, as she started it. “You sure you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?”

  I shook my head. The mere action caused my headache from this morning to return, ten times the strength it was. Moving a hand to my head, I coughed, still feeling the gurgling in the back of my throat.

  “All right,” Claire said, though she didn’t sound so sure. “To your house.” She set it in reverse, and we got going. Along the way, she muttered, “I really hope we don’t get pulled over, because I don’t think I have my license, and you’re covered in blood.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I’m really no good under pressure. I don’t know how you and Max do it.”

  “Usually,” I whispered, “it’s not that bad.”

  “It’s not the first time I’ve almost seen you die. Though, truthfully, I am glad he liked you more than he liked me.” She threw me a side glance. “Are you sure you don’t want—”

  “Take me home.” My voice wasn’t as commanding as I wanted it to be. I sounded small, tired, and weary.

  Claire only nodded.

  And then she drove me home.

  Chapter Thirty – Michael

  I expected the call.

  But, still, somehow when my cell rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. The number was a restricted one, and my thumb hovered over the green rectangle to answer it. I had wanted to wait until it was done to talk to her, but here she was, calling me. I still had time. I’d get it done.

  I answered it, “It’s done.” I didn’t want her to have the first word, because once she got started, she hardly ever stopped.

  She was already dead. It was only a matter of time until they found her body.

  Liz had called an hour ago, saying that Claire was missing and Kass went off to look for her. Neither girl had been seen since. The stupid girl was too weak to face off against something like a Skinwalker. The Skinwalker would win, if it hadn’t already, and either it would kill Kass and leave her body where a member of the Council could find it, or it would try to go inside of her. Either way, Kass would die, and my mission would be complete.

  “And Gabriel?” The voice on the other line was stern, but expectant. She didn’t question me, for she knew where my loyalty lied. I would never lie to the Order. Never.

  “Send a unit for transport. We have to take him to the compound.” I was alone in the house; my fake English accent gave way to a gruff, harsh tone with a penchant for hard R’s.

  “Just because you took care of the girl does not mean you’re off free yet, Mike. You better pray that our doctors can reverse the damage you did to him, otherwise, the New Age must wait until he is reborn again. If that happens, you can look forward to digging your own grave.” And she hung up, leaving me with images of a shovel and dirt.

  I did not want to dig my own grave. It did not sound pleasant.

  Sliding the phone into my back pocket, I ran a hand through my dark hair. I tore off my glasses—they weren’t real, anyway—and set them on the counter in the kitchen. I was in the middle of brewing some tea when I watched a vehicle pull up the driveway.

  Claire, of all people, got out of the driver’s side, scurrying to the passenger’s, where Kass sat, practically limp as a noodle. She wrapped her arm around Kass and started dragging her to the front door.

  I froze for only a moment, stunned that she was alive still. After finding out what was plaguing the school, I hoped the Skinwalker would take care of her. I prayed that it would kill her, for while I was fine with doing it with my own two hands, I did watch her grow up. I did care a little about her.

  I wasn’t completely heartless.

  Running to the front door, I threw it open just in time to let Claire and Kass inside. Kass had a cut on her cheek, blood dripping out of it. Both girls were bruised and dirty. Kass herself looked like death.

  It wouldn’t take much to finish the job from here, at least.

  I took Kass from Claire, lifting her up as I moved us to the living room, carefully laying her on the couch. She could barely keep her eyes open. Her mouth smelled horrid, like vomit. Playing the role of a caring father-figure, I asked Claire, “What happened? I got a call from Liz saying you both were missing.”

  “The Skinwalker had us. It’s in the empty house on Nobottom. Kass killed it. She said you’d call the Council.” Claire’s blue gaze was heavy on her friend. “She kept throwing up on our way here. I think we should take her to the hospital—”

  Needing to hear no more, I nodded along. “I will call the Council and alert them about Nobottom. They’ll send their own medics over to take care of Kass. Are you all right? Do you need medical attention?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good.” When I saw that she hesitated, that she wanted to stay at Kass’s side, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked her to the door. “There’s a lot to do, Claire. Could you do me a favor though, if you’re up to it, and return to the school and inform Liz of what happened? That way she can start up the paperwork and stop wasting manpower at the school.” I gripped the door handle, opening it for her.

  “Okay. And then I’ll come right back,” she insisted, hurrying to her car.

  I watched her go with a frown, waiting until she was down the driveway and out of my sight before muttering, “Of course you will.” The Morpher didn’t know when she wasn’t needed. A pain.

  Closing the door quietly, I turned my head to view Kass’s unmoving head.

  This was it.

  I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I went up the stairs, to my room. Inside my closet, on the floor in the wooden chest marked with the Order’s symbol, lay a dagger that had been gifted to me when I joined. Its hilt was decorated with the same red cross, the rest of it plain. The key was hidden in the underside of my nightstand, and within the minute, I retrieved the sheathed dagger, jerking the leather off the shiny, steel blade. Straightening, I exited my room and headed down the stairs.

  Kass had sat up sometime while I was gone, though her eyes were still closed. I stepped into the living room.

  “Michael?” she said, sounding awful. Her voice was thick with the blood that filled her lungs. “How soon are they getting here? I don’t…feel…” She couldn’t finish.

  I stood near her, behind the couch, staring intently at her neck. Even if she happened to open her eyes, she wouldn’t be strong enough to stop me. She wouldn’t react in time. I said, a lie bigger than any I ever told, “Everything will be all right, Kass.”

  I raised the dagger.

  Chapter Thirty-One – Gabriel

  We stood outside the house, a place I knew my old self had been many times before. With everything that I knew now, I wasn’t sure if it would ever feel the same again. I knew I’d never look at things the same.

  The other me didn’t seem as annoying as I used to think he was. His blue stare leveled with me as he asked, “You understand what must be done?”

  I nodded. I wasn’t stupid.

  “Then say it with me,” he said, and I joined in with him, “let her die.”

  Y
es, because Kassie’s death meant more than her life did. I would be whole again after she died. I would be strong, the strongest, with power unmatched.

  “Say it alone.”

  I looked at the house, at the familiar front door, quietly stating, “Kassie must die.”

  “Good. You’re ready.” The other me clapped me on my shoulders, proud of my decision. “It’s finally time to awaken and change the world.” He smiled, his teeth whiter than white. In a flash, his skin was grey and he sprouted wings. The world around me faded to black.

  I was alone.

  The beeping of machinery entered my ears, and as my eyes flew open, I found that I was alone in a hospital room. The last time I woke up alone in a room like this, I spent the next however long with a scowling version of me. Although, now, I could see what he was constantly scowling about.

  I was stronger than I was before; I didn’t remember much, but that I knew for certain.

  Sitting, I yanked the tubes out of me. A nurse happened to be walking by, ran in to try to stop me, but I shut her up with a single look. One look and her face went blank, slack-jawed. I held up a finger to my lips as I went to the window, feeling a breeze on my backside. I needed clothes, but I wasn’t going to get them here.

  The smell of a hospital was disgusting.

  I broke the glass, ripped the screen, and jumped out long before the nurse recovered herself enough to alert a doctor. I headed through the parking lot, knowing where I was going, even though most of my memory still failed me.

  The sarcastic boy who woke up in that hospital bed all that time ago was gone.

  I wasn’t sure what I was, now.

  A tool, to be used by the other me?

  Crossing intersections, dodging cars, walking along sidewalks that, during the daylight, were mostly empty. The house where I parted from the other me was in sight, and I took my time heading up the driveway, already anticipating what I’d come to see.

  Her death.

  It was an odd sense of calm I had about it, like it was inevitable, meant to be.

  I headed up the front porch, moving to the front door. A pretty house, but it wouldn’t be so pretty inside. I went in.

  And, just like the other me showed me, a man stood above Kassie, dagger in hand. He had it lowered against her throat, about to cut it wide open with a deep, quick gash, when his eyes looked up and he saw me.

  He faltered. He wasn’t expecting me.

  I was supposed to let her die. I wasn’t supposed to interfere. The other me told me what I had to do, what I should do, in order to become my true self. He was, in a word, manipulating. I couldn’t remember what I loved about life, but I knew it wasn’t being toyed with on strings. I was no marionette.

  “Gabriel,” the man said, eyes wide.

  Right. That was my name.

  I searched through my mind for his name. My memories were foggy, jumbled together in a mess that would take time to sort through, but eventually I came upon it: “Michael.”

  He must’ve sensed the difference in me. “You know.”

  “I do,” I said. In a blink, I was beside him, my hand gripping the one that held the dagger above her throat. She was passed out, completely oblivious. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said, increasing the pressure on his wrist.

  “She has to die,” Michael said.

  “That’s what everyone keeps saying. But, you know, I’m tired of people telling me what to do,” I whispered. In a moment, the pressure on his wrist was too much. He dropped the dagger, and I threw him back, across the living room, straight through the windows that overlooked the backyard. I went to the broken window, stepping on the glass with my bare feet. If I was cut, I did not feel it.

  I hardly felt anything.

  “I’m done listening to you,” I told his unconscious form on the grass. “I’m done listening to everyone. For once, I’m going to do what I want to do.”

  And what I wanted—what I really, truly wanted—was a sandwich.

  I moved past the couch, pausing to glance at Kassie. No, at…Kass. I didn’t call her Kassie. At least, I didn’t think I did. Her eyes were slits, and her mouth whispered, “Gabriel?”

  I could hardly look at her, after the things the other me revealed.

  I turned away, ignoring her, even as she fell off the couch, calling after me, crawling after me.

  It wasn’t going to end well, so why pretend otherwise?

  Chapter Thirty-Two – Crixis

  It was a bad day. Maurice had moments of clarity—rare, as they were—and since I was not his David, just a nameless imposter, I had to compel him and convince him otherwise. I didn’t feel too good about it, but oh, well. Had to be done. I was growing fond of my Hawaiian shirts and my training sessions with Kass.

  Never thought I’d think that.

  As I sat down to have a cup of coffee, which was not my first choice of beverage, for I preferred something a bit redder, my senses piqued. He was back—Gabriel. I could feel him, Vexillion could feel him, feared him, just as other Demons feared me. I flashed to the front door, tossing it open, watching as the boy stepped inside the house across the street.

  Should I go over there, or should I just let whatever happen, happen? I wondered, not usually one for such uncertainty.

  I lingered there, waiting, until my ears heard the sounds of glass shattering, and it was decided for me. With a gust of wind, I was in their house, standing in their living room. A hideously-decorated space, with a lot of wide, open spaces. I wasn’t a fan. I liked being cozy.

  I saw Gabriel near the broken widows, saying in a voice that reminded me of my own, “I’m done listening to you. I’m done listening to everyone. For once, I’m going to do what I want to do.” And then he turned and walked past Kass on the couch, stopping for only a second as he looked at her.

  She whispered a weak, “Gabriel?”

  An expression of disgust crossed his features, and he turned away from her, not stopping even after she fell off the couch in a bid to go after him. He was before me in the next instant, looking down on me from his superior height. He examined me, frowning, sneering, a face I’d never before seen on the boy.

  Vexillion quivered inside me. He wasn’t a boy any longer.

  He shook his head, bumping into my shoulder purposefully as he made his way to the kitchen.

  I couldn’t stand there and do nothing. Perhaps it was the meeting with Kass’s mother, but I felt the strange urge to help her. In a flash, I was beside her, cradling her, moving her back on the couch. She smelled rancid, and she looked like a skeleton. Her skin ice cold, a deep gash in her cheek.

  “What mess did you get yourself into now, little Purifier?” I questioned as I moved my sleeve to get at my wrist.

  “Gabriel…” She was practically incoherent with whatever sickness she had. Her eyes were cloudy, unfocused, reminding me of Maurice. Kass wouldn’t last much longer like this, and I knew of only one thing to do to help her—the one thing she swore to me she didn’t want.

  My blood.

  Irises flashing red for a split second, I felt my teeth grow as my lips neared my wrist. I bit into myself, hard enough to make the blood flow freely. I moved my bleeding wrist before her mouth, and she didn’t take it; not immediately. “Before it heals,” I ordered.

  Kass tried to send me what I assumed was a frown, but her face hardly moved, and she eventually gave in, suckling from my wrist like a newborn babe. This was something I never thought I’d do, saving Kass, giving her my blood of my own free will. What was I turning into?

  From the archway that led to the kitchen, Gabriel stood, eating a sandwich with disinterest. He saw us, our position, what we were doing, and scowled. “Isn’t that sweet?”

  I shot him a glare, though it probably did not look very menacing. What had changed in him during that short coma? Why did he seem so different, darker and ruder and uncaring toward the girl he always swore he’d do anything for?

  “That should do it,” I said, wi
thdrawing my arm from her, licking my own blood off my skin, the wound stitching itself together before our eyes. I studied her. “How do you feel now?” She had a bit of blood still around her lips, but other than that, she looked healthy. Her skin was normal, and she was cognizant. The wound on her face was already stitching itself up.

  Kass nodded once, whispering, “Better, but I’m going to have nightmares for a long time.” She finally spotted the third presence in the room, and before I could warn her of Gabriel’s difference, she was on her feet and sprinting to him, throwing her arms around him and exclaiming, “Gabriel.”

  But he did not return the embrace.

  I was a captive audience to one of the most awkward encounters I’d ever witnessed, so, wanting to turn away and not stare at them, I went to the window and found that whoever Gabriel had spoken to was no longer there.

  Chapter Thirty-Three – Kass

  Drinking Crixis’s blood…was disgusting. I wanted to vomit for a whole different reason. But, I had to admit, it did make me feel better. The coldness that enveloped my body for the last few days vanished almost instantly, and the weariness that had seeped into my bones faded. I hated to admit it, but without his blood, I might’ve died.

  I vaguely recalled seeing Gabriel, but I might’ve just made it up in my near-death state.

  After Crixis healed himself, he looked at me, those eyes—eyes I still very much hated, eyes that I would always hate for the things he’d done to me—seemed oddly kind as he said, “How do you feel now?”

  “Better,” I told him, “but I’m going to have nightmares for a long time.” Part joke, part truth. I had Rain’s blood once, after Crixis beat me up, and I never wanted to do it again. In this line of work, though, you didn’t always get what you wanted.