Staked!

by Candace Wondrak

  I then went through his drawers, his nightstand. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that screamed deceit I could see. There was only one more place to look. I stood straight, glancing to the closet in the corner of the room. His room was the smallest of them all; both Purifiers upstairs had larger and more decorative rooms. Perhaps he chose this one because he hoped he wouldn’t be in it for long.

  My feet drew me closer to the closet, and I flung the doors open, rifling through his clothes. Snooty, pressed pants. Button-up shirts, screaming department stores that were going out of business. A man with a closet like this had to be hiding something. He tried too hard to be normal. It was disgusting.

  I fell to my knees, feeling around the bottom of the closet. Some shoes, some ties which had fallen off their hangers, and…I felt my body tense up as my fingers grazed a rather sizeable chest in the back corner of the closet. With one sharp yank, I dragged it out and had it sitting in the daylight.

  Two by three feet, at least a foot and a half deep. It was an intricate chest with a red cross sitting on its top. No, not a cross exactly, for all four sides of it were equal in length. This was something else, something I knew I’d seen before.

  But where? Or, perhaps the more apropos question was: when?

  I noted the padlock on its front. With one harsh yank, the lock was torn off, clattering on the floor. My fingers lifted the lid, my eyes scanning the inside contents. Vials were sown into the lid of the chest, a selection of poisons, probably. I peered inside, reaching for a folded garment.

  Thick, white, and all in all, utterly hideous.

  As I jostled the garment in my hands, I unfolded it. It looked like a cape or a robe of some sort, a hood attached to the neck area. A bit of color did splash across the front—on the left chest area, a red cross similar to the other one. I ran my thumb over the cross, knowing I’d seen it before but unable to think of where.

  It bothered me more than I cared to admit, not knowing where I’d seen it. My memory was good, but it wasn’t perfect. If memory was one of the five senses, then it’d be flawless. But it wasn’t. My brain was just as capable of forgetting things as human brains were; mine even more so, perhaps, due to the fact my life had been thousands of years longer. A brain could only recall so much.

  The rest of the contents of the chest were unremarkable. Various weapons, holy water, other things that wouldn’t have seemed so out of place if they weren’t hidden in an odd chest in Michael’s closet. Most of this stuff was commonplace in the home of Purifiers.

  I couldn’t say how long I sat there, staring at the open chest, at the robe my hands held. In all the time I’d known him, I never suspected Michael of duplicity. Granted, I spent most of my time watching Kass and not him, but still. I was a prideful beast. Knowing he hid something like this, from me and from Vexillion, enraged me.

  He would not live long enough to deceive me again.

  I closed the lid after throwing the robe back inside. I was seconds from grabbing the two handles on the chest’s sides when I heard the front door open. The councilwoman was here, the little redheaded Purifier in tow.

  A slow smile spread across my face. She’d be shocked at my sight, wouldn’t she? Kass’s gang was in for a bit of a rough day.

  Chapter Three - Kass

  Liz flew into the house, her eyes wide. She immediately saw me in the kitchen, hunched over the sink. I gripped the edges of the marble countertop, the pictures nothing but ash in the sink. The lighter sat near my right hand. It did its job.

  “Kass,” Liz spoke, her voice urgent, “how do you feel?”

  “Good,” I said, though it was both a lie and the truth. I didn’t feel like dying because of the poison, but I did feel like dying for another reason entirely. When I moved my gaze from the sink to her, I watched Max enter the house behind her. The small, ginger Purifier breathed a sigh of relief when he saw me up and well.

  “Where’s Michael? Why isn’t he answering his phone? The hospital—Gabriel disappeared—”

  I blinked, speaking softly, “He didn’t disappear. He’s upstairs in his room.”

  That, she clearly didn’t expect me to say. “What? He’s here? But…how?”

  “He woke up.” Obviously.

  Max was in the living room, his strangely deep voice rising loud enough for us to hear, “Uh, what happened in here?”

  Liz gave me a weird look before moving out of the kitchen, heading toward Max. Her stride stopped when she viewed the destroyed wall, the shattered windows. I let them survey the damage for a few minutes, figuring they needed to see it eventually. Once I was sure they were done, I meandered to the stairwell, leaning on it, looking at them both.

  “There’s a lot you need caught up on,” I said.

  Liz’s hand dug into her purse, retrieving her cell phone. “Where is Michael?” she asked again. “What happened? Max, go check on Gabriel.” She and I both watched as he zoomed past me on the stairs, taking two at a time, something I never quite mastered. Too short. “There better be an impeccable explanation for this,” she said, authoritative.

  Funny.

  “What do you want me to tell you first? Do you want me to explain how Michael’s been poisoning me, or how he tried to kill me? Or, maybe, do you want me to tell you Gabriel’s not himself after waking up?” I threw out the options, my words venom. I was so very upset, and I couldn’t just swallow it down and pretend everything was fine. “Michael was going to kill me, and Gabriel showed up in the nick of time and saved me. Then he told me, after Michael was gone, that he shouldn’t have. That I should’ve just died.”

  Liz took her time in answering, “Kass, I…that doesn’t make sense. Why would Michael try to kill you? What proof do you have he was poisoning you? I don’t—”

  The man upstairs, and I didn’t mean God or Gabriel or Max, flashed into the living room, loudly dropping a large chest on the coffee table, causing Liz to nearly jump out of her skin. She whirled on him, her phone slipping from her hands as she reached inside her purse and withdrew a stake. Like she could purify the un-purifiable.

  “I believe the proof you desire is all right here,” Crixis spoke with a smirk.

  Liz could not tear her eyes from him. “What are you doing in this house, fiend?” Her voice shook with…was it fear?

  I tilted my head. Not long ago I would’ve done the same if he would’ve popped up out of nowhere. Today, I felt very insensitive. Like a third party, like I wasn’t really here, and this stuff wasn’t really happening to me. This wasn’t my life.

  But it was.

  And because it was, I moved between Liz and Crixis, shooting her a harsh glare. Gabriel used to call them my famous death glares. They didn’t feel so famous anymore. In fact, this particular one felt rather half-hearted. “Crixis isn’t the enemy,” I said, realizing how weird it sounded.

  How wrong it was, after everything he’d done to me, to us. Yet here we were.

  “Kass,” Liz warned, gripping the stake in her small hand tighter, “I don’t know how you fell under his spell, but step away from him. We did not lose Taiton only to—”

  “To be fair,” Crixis mused, “I wasn’t the one who killed that behemoth of a man. Sephira had the honor. You might remember her. She killed Kass and, probably, started this mess by revealing to Michael what Gabriel truly is.”

  “And what’s that?” Liz’s voice wavered, the question spat out as if she didn’t give a single care what it’s answer was. Did she believe what we said? No, probably not, because she was in love with Michael.

  Max and Gabriel pounded down the stairs. Max froze instantly at the sight of Crixis, while Gabriel simply glared. Now that was a death glare. I felt my skin harden, and I did my best to ignore it, overlook how it was pointed at me. “Yes,” Gabriel spoke, frowning, “what’s that?”

  Liz’s curious expression turned to him, her hand starting to shake. She was a smart woman; she had to see his hair was darker and the thin tattoos that used to line his skin were gone.<
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  “You,” Crixis said, not batting an eye at his appearance or his stature, “are the Devil incarnate. Your soul is not new. It’s an old one, reborn and given a second chance. Judging from the disgusting sneer on your face, you’ll choose to fall again.”

  Gabriel let out a growl, and in a split-second, appeared before Crixis, towering over him with his superior height. Everyone in the room, even Liz, was shocked he had moved so quickly, faster than any eye could’ve picked up. “I have not made any decisions yet,” he told Crixis. “You should worry, though, because no matter what I choose, I will take you with me. I will end you like so many others have tried.”

  “Gabriel,” I spoke his name, which only caused his ire to turn on me.

  “What?” he hissed, sounding not at all like the Gabriel I knew, my best friend, my…my everything. “I saw you together. I know you’ve been spending a lot of time with him. I hope he’s a good replacement for me, as temporary as he’ll be.”

  I couldn’t believe him. How could he say those things to me? Without thinking, I reached for him, touching his bare arm. The very second my skin came into contact with his, my flesh burned.

  It was like touching a hot iron, a hot stove burner. A thousand degrees. The pain instant and terrible. Wincing, I quickly withdrew my hand from him, stumbling back. I gripped my injured wrist, staring down at my bloody, bubbling hand with my mouth open.

  Did he burn me on purpose?

  “Do not touch me,” Gabriel said. When he glanced around to the others in the room, he added, “In fact, don’t even speak to me. I just want to be left alone.” Pushing past Liz and Max, he stormed up the stairs.

  Finally, the hand holding the stake fell to her side, and Liz muttered, “I…I don’t understand. How…” Her eyes moved to me, to the Demon beside me. “How did this happen?” Her eyes grew watery, and she slowly made her way to me. “Do you need anything?”

  “You still have my blood in your system,” Crixis told me. “Clean it up, and it should heal before nightfall, unless you want more?” The question was added only to further remind me how I’d already drunk from him.

  Knowing his blood was inside me, it wasn’t a good feeling. I hated it almost as much as I hated this new Gabriel. The Gabriel that hurt me. Even the other world’s Gabriel hadn’t done anything like this to me. I wanted to vomit.

  “Max,” Liz ordered, “help her clean it up. You.” She stared daggers at Crixis. “Get out of my sight. I need to think.” She went to the couch, where I had nearly felt my will to live vanish, pausing as she looked to the mantle, at the dozen broken frames on the floor, at all the jagged glass. She’d never seemed so broken.

  I went with Max to the kitchen. The boy knew exactly where our first aid kit was; we’d used it on numerous occasions. Fighting evil wasn’t the safest job around, and ever since moving here, it was like all the evil came crawling to us. I just wanted it to leave me alone; I wanted a normal life. I wanted to be a teenage girl thinking about homecoming and graduation and even college.

  But I’d never get it.

  I sat at the table, waiting for Max. Crixis appeared before me, kneeling down as he said, “I will be right outside. No one will enter this house while I am watching…unless you want me to go after Michael.”

  “Not yet,” I whispered. “Let Liz come to terms with it first. When she agrees, then you can go after him.” It was beyond ridiculous that I was telling Crixis what to do, and even crazier he was actually nodding along and listening to me. What strange, opposite world did I fall into this time when I wasn’t looking?

  If only the cause were so simple. Unfortunately, this was my real world. This was my mess of a life.

  As Crixis flashed away, Max stumbled back into the kitchen, clutching the first aid box. He sat beside me, pulling out everything he needed. I heard him gulp as I offered him my injured hand. It looked even worse than it did a minute ago, even redder and angrier. It didn’t even look like a palm anymore. Just burnt flesh.

  He grabbed the rag in front of the sink, holding it under my hand. He poured some sterilizing solution over it, and my skin bubbled and oozed pus. I grimaced as he softly spoke, “Claire was right behind us. Out of everyone, she’s especially going to have a problem with your new friend. I know I do.”

  Right. Because Crixis bit Claire and threatened to let her die and turn into a Nightwalker unless I helped him. Because he killed Koath, Max’s Guardian. Because he was the reason why Koath requested Taiton’s aid. Everyone had a reason to despise Crixis. Everyone hated him.

  “He’s not my friend,” I spoke through the pain. The pain radiating through my hand, up my arm and through my stomach was pure agony. The pain I felt in my heart was nothing short of torture. “I hate him as much as you do.”

  “Then you have a strange way of showing it,” Max said, dabbing my hand dry. He reached for bandages. “Michael really tried to kill you?”

  I nodded.

  “And Gabriel is…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Gabriel was, for all intents and purposes, the Devil. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t, that he had a good childhood with me, that we laughed and played and fought each other, bickering like siblings. His old soul had won out. The happy-go-lucky Gabriel was gone, replaced by a mean, sneering, hurtful one instead. How long until he decided he was done with us? Clearly, he was already done with me.

  Fighting my emotions, I said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Max. Gabriel is everything to me. He’s all I have left.”

  “You have me,” he said, “and Claire. And Liz. You’re not alone, Kass.”

  I studied the boy. He was intent, eager, extremely smart. Beneath his frail-looking exterior lied sinewy muscle and a deep voice that belonged on the radio. Freckles on his face, behind his big glasses. Gabriel and I had made fun of him from day one, but he’d never done anything to us. He was one of us. Even though he wasn’t Gabriel, he was still my friend.

  “I know,” I muttered, closing my eyes. “It’s just not the same.”

  “We’ll get through this, like we’ve gotten through everything else.” As Max tried to comfort me, the front door flew open, and an irate Claire stormed in, fuming.

  Her athletic body wore workout shorts and a tank top, her short yellow hair tied back with a tie dye bandana. “Can somebody explain to me what the hell that bastard is doing on your front porch?” She was outraged before she saw the bandage on my hand and the broken window in the back of the living room. She glanced at Liz’s hunched figure before coming into the kitchen, lowering her voice somewhat, “What is going on?”

  I looked at Max, wordlessly begging him to tell her. I couldn’t handle saying everything again. As Max told Claire the gist of it, I held my eyes shut and blocked out the world. I hoped Claire wouldn’t be mad at me for having Crixis here. Everything was so topsy-turvy in my life, I couldn’t trust anyone. I knew I couldn’t trust Crixis—but it was the only thing I knew. Everything else I thought was fact? Gone. Scattered in the wind, lost the moment Michael had tried to kill me and Gabriel had told me he should’ve let me die.

  If this was how my life would play out from here on out, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to live it.

  Chapter Four - Liz

  I stared at the chest, at the red cross atop it, for what felt like hours. The hot, muggy air of this state crept in through the broken windows, flies swarming in. It wasn’t too long ago when I sent Max and Claire to the home improvement store for wood, nails, and a hammer. It was all I could commit to. I wasn’t about to order the renovation of the wall and those windows on the Council’s dime when I was not certain what was happening here.

  Gabriel, the Devil? Michael, an attempted murderer? Crixis, the most wanted Demon in all of the Council’s history, a friend and a helper? Nothing made sense.

  I had the chest beside me on the couch, my legs tucked beneath my backside as I slowly searched through it. Vials of liquids sat fastened to the lid beneath black velvet Velcro. I ran my fingers
over them, plucking one out and uncorking it, giving the small vial a whiff. Almost immediately my nerves fried and my vision grew blurry. I quickly corked it and returned it to its spot.

  Poison didn’t seem so out of the picture now.

  It’d be one thing if Crixis had just brought this down out of nowhere, but I remembered seeing it in Michael’s closet. I remember tracing the red cross and tugging the padlock. I gave up, figuring it was locked for a reason. Every adult should have some privacy when it came to having children in the house, even if the children were not theirs.

  I did not think these would be the contents, though.

  Gabriel hadn’t let himself out of his room, nor had Kass moved herself from the kitchen. I knew I should ask them questions, find out what happened—every single detail of it—but I couldn’t. I had to find out what Michael hid from me, from all of us. How was I so blind? How did I not see the signs?

  Was he that good of a liar?

  My stomach felt queasy, and I felt physically ill. Did he lie to me when we were together years ago, or did this change inside him come on within the last twenty years? I hadn’t seen him much after he was assigned Gabriel. He came to the U.S. and was nearly off the Council’s radar. And then, of course, I wondered how he could’ve known about Gabriel. I didn’t know if I believed he was the Devil incarnate, but clearly, he wasn’t altogether human. He’d burned Kass without even trying.

  That was a very Demonic power.

  I reached for my phone, searching red cross. I should’ve known better than to do it, for all of the results dealt with the volunteer and charity organization. I added the phrase equal sides and went to the images tab. It took a bit of scrolling, but I found a single picture of a similar-looking cross amongst the Red Cross’s emblem. I clicked on it, and the website was slow to open. My eyes scanned over the article, picking up various words that stuck out.