by Lia Davis
"Who did you tell?" Damn his semblance of a heart for speeding up, his superficial skin taking on a chill. He made his way to the bed glancing at the intruders. As if thinking in one mind they shook their sweet serene heads in unison.
"Them." One of her hands emerged up over the mountain of blankets over her, pointed to the angels and then reached for him reminding him of the small child who wanted him the night her mother was buried. "They asked me to come with them, but I said you were on your way."
If she saw them, her end was near. Without a second thought he sat at the edge of her bed and took her hand, a tiny little cold appendage.
"I told them I wouldn't go." She laced her fingers in his, a small gesture, one only humans made as if they needed the maximum amount of contact.
Even in the dark room he clearly made out this was not the girl he left four years ago. Gone were the chubby cheeks and sparkling eyes, a body radiating life and vitality. In her place a mere grey outline of the little one who greeted him by throwing the nearest knick-knack in his direction. "Why do you think they're here?"
"I'm going to die and they want to take me." The words left her mouth with a shrug of her shoulders. "I think they are those evil angels."
He sucked in his cheeks to abate a laugh. Thus far they weren't causing trouble and in truth they were here to do him a favor. They didn't cross paths often, but when they did it was always a mistake. "Why are you dying?"
"I have bad blood." She pulled her other hand out of the blanket and held the globe paperweight out to him. "It feels heavy now."
"Some would call that the weight of the world." He took the paperweight, balancing it on hi palm. Sickness. Damn human bodies, imperfect packages susceptible to a whole host of horrors.
"I'm not scared." Leora pulled him closer. "Everyone keeps asking if I'm scared."
"Why aren't you scared?" He faced her, their noses almost touching. If he blurred his mortal vision he could get a glimpse of a healthy human, or what she would have looked like had she been allowed to grow. No doubt she would have been a beauty. A perfect host, one his type searched for. Maybe she was spared her fate. Maybe this was her fate. Maybe he brought this on her. Sucked the life right out of her. They weren't supposed to be around the children, their souls weren't corrupted yet.
"It's just the end of a book." She glanced around the room and cupped her hand around her mouth.
Not wanting to disappoint her and tell her the angels could hear her no matter how soft she whispered, he leaned closer and tilted his ear toward her.
"When I die I get to be with you." Her breath tickled his ear. "I just wanted to wait until you were here with me so you didn't lose me."
With her death would come his salvation. His promise fulfilled. Once again he do what he was created for. Why wasn't he telling her to stop resisting? Instead he stared beyond her, catching a glimpse of his picture by her wall, the stars still shining.
"Where do we go now?" She lowered her head to his shoulder. "Where do you go when you're not with me?"
Her illness coursed through him, the weakness, and the pain. What had she endured? The time between visits was nebulous, part training, part collaborating with others of his kind. Of course, that was for demons who performed. His last few visits had been a waste, an error he needed to correct. "I can't take you with me."
"What?" She pushed him back and let go of his hand. "That's not fair."
Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes giving her back a bit of the life. As he taught her, she blinked them away. "I know where you go when you're not with me." She pressed her lips together.
"Where would that be?" He studied her. With her exertion a bit of color returned to her cheeks.
"You're dead when you're not with me." She turned away. "You're dead and I am supposed to go with you."
The bed shook from her trembling.
"Leora?" He glanced behind him and they came closer. Passive, useless observers who did nothing, not even ease the suffering of those they claimed to love like their own. "I thought you weren't afraid."
"I don't want to die." Her sniffing betrayed her crying. "I don't want to die if you're not there."
"You won't be in pain. Death is not painful." He tightened his hold on the globe. The stupid smooth piece of glass should have shattered eight years ago.
"Please. I don't want to die if you're not there."
Without a thought, a calculation for his next move, he pressed his palm to her back.
She collapsed against him, a frail, destroyed mess who managed to hang on for a demon. "I want to go with you."
For centuries he existed and every human he encountered wanted him at the beginning of the evening and cursed him to Hell before the sunrise. Of course he didn't curse Leora, it was the other way around. Those angels must be clawing to get her, take her with them and turn her soul around.
She held on to life for him. Ironic.
He put his arms around her, shielding her from them. They weren't here when she lost her mother, they weren't here when the other humans tried to destroy her, and they weren't doing anything now.
Maybe some points were to be gained for not allowing them to take her. Maybe it would ease some of his internal ache. Strange, for the last few minutes he forgot about his job, his needs. "In order to see me you have to stay alive."
She lifted her face to him. "I don't want to go back to the doctor. They promised I wouldn't have to go back."
No reaction. He willed himself to not envision any of her visits to the doctor's office. This was not for her this was to take what his enemies wanted. "Look at me." He captured one tear with his fingertip.
"You look like a rock star." She blinked several times.
"You are going to look better than a rock star by the morning."
"Do you think I'm pretty?" Once more her eyes glazed over.
"I think one day you will cause a lot of people a lot of heartache." He waited until she caught his gaze. "Stare at me."
"Do I cause you heartache?" She obeyed and kept her focus on him.
"You don't even know." He took her chin to keep her steady. "You will be well, and you will live a long life free to torment anyone you choose." Fine, he added the last part for his own amusement. He centered his energy. Now he would heal rather than harm.
"It's hot." She grabbed his wrist.
"I know."
"Dolan." Her nails dug into him.
"You're well, do you understand?" Again vibrations in the room changed, coming alive with an electric sizzle. "You are going to show everyone"
The space warmed up and she broke out into a sweat. "It's burning."
"For someone not afraid of death, you shouldn't be afraid of a little heat." He kept his concentration, drawing out the disease. The angels could take that with them instead of her.
"Gone." The one word left her mouth and she collapsed in his arms.
The energy dissipated, but she didn't move. "Leora, open your eyes."
Nothing.
His chest tightened and he refused to turn behind him to allow the angels their time to gloat. Instead, he stared down at her, wanting to shake her but not wanting to hurt her further. "I don't care, I'm free."
What if he didn't kill her? Damn humans could lie in limbo almost indefinitely. Maybe he cured her illness only to decimate her mind. Now he would be stuck returning here to watch her lie like a corpse without the release of death. She would never be able to liberate him. Somehow he trapped them both. He grabbed her shoulders and held her up. Her head slumped to one side. "Leora!"
The room quieted after his yell.
Her eyelids fluttered and she groaned.
"Leora?"
At last she lifted her head and opened her eyes. "Dolan, look."
"I am." He looked while the color entered her face and the dark shadows disappeared from under her eyes. Life returned.
"No, over there." Her gaze fell over his shoulder.
They still couldn't be here. Did h
e fail? Unable to put it off any longer, he turned.
Empty.
He held her close and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head when she wrapped her arms around him.
"Dolan?" Her voice now muffled by his shirt.
"Yes?" He pressed his palm to her back, his hand raising and lowering with her breathing.
"I'm glad you're not an angel." She pushed back. The smile on her face possessed something more, a bit of mischief, knowledge, even maturity.
"Not a fan of angels?" He couldn’t help his own smile. She was nothing if not entertaining.
"I'm more of a fan of whatever you are."
What would she think if he told her the truth? Her reaction shouldn't matter to him. Maybe she would release him. "I don't think I ever had a fan before, even if I look like a rock star."
"I don't feel sick anymore. You did that." She played with the collar of his jacket.
"Maybe in return for your good health, you can let me go now so I can do my job." Even as he spoke the sentence he knew the answer. Part of his job now was to ask.
"Maybe you're already doing your job." She pursed her lips. "Tell me exactly what you do. All I know is you leave people wanting more."
Interesting to watch her grow. At four he was just there all emotion and reaction, at eight he was magic, this time she knew he wasn't an angel but did recognize he was something else. However twelve was still too young to let her in on his real occupation. "I am supposed to be preparing people to help others of my kind."
"I want to be one of those people." She continued to manipulate his collar. "Make me one of those people."
He tilted his head abating the shudder that seemed to encompass him. "No you do not. Never." He swallowed. "No."
Her eyes widened.
"Absolutely not." Maybe he needed to lie down. He should be thinking she would be the perfect host he practically groomed her for the position. "No."
"Okay, jeez." She lowered her face. "I just wanted to help you."
He hooked his fingers under her chin and made her face him again. "Why me?" He gnashed his teeth together. When given the perfect in to get her to let him go, he tossed it for some inane question.
She took her time studying his face, her eyes shifting to different parts of him. "I told you, you're mine."
"I'm yours?"
She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say more, then she simply shrugged her shoulders.
"Tell me." Somehow he had to hear what she wanted to say.
"I knew you would come tonight and you did. You always come when you say." She shut her eyes. "I know you're not an angel, but you're what an angel should be."
Angels in human terms were great beings who did good things. His hand fell, grazing against his leg. "I brought you something."
She straightened up. "A present?"
No, a bribe. He snaked his hand in his pocket and pulled out his offering, a translucent golden heart-shaped charm speckled with black ash on a silver chain. "Here." He could still make this evening work in his favor.
"Oh my God." She gasped and clasped her hands together. "That's for me?"
"Yes." He refused to acknowledge the way she lit up and the way it warmed him. "Take it."
She cradled the charm in both her hands. "What is it made of?"
"It was just something I found." He took it upon himself to loop the chain over her neck. Yes, something he found and shaped and then carried with him for quite a while knowing exactly what he wanted to do with the little treasure.
"I'll have this always." She untangled her hair from the chain and allowed the charm to fall down on her nightgown. "What can I do for you?"
The innocent question came loaded with huge meaning. She opened the door for him to get what he wanted, no needed. Didn't she understand he had his own needs and urges? He wasn't made to tend to a little girl whose only stability came from a demon who visited her every four years. The sooner she realized that the better off they would both be, and he would leave her with a small bit of tangible proof he wasn't a dream. He ground his teeth together and stood up.
"Dolan?"
He paced the length of the floor, stopping at her window and peeking out at the stars. "Never ask anyone what you can do for them."
"But you gave me a gift, and you cured me. I can feel I'm not sick anymore." She got out of the bed.
"No, never ask anyone what you can do for them. They may answer and then you are obligated." He pressed his palm to the window. "Instead, always make sure you get the most out of everyone you meet."
"How do I do that?" She stood beside him.
"Now that you have cheated death, use it to your advantage. You have more power than you know." The grey sky told him this visit neared its end.
"Don't leave."
He turned to her. "Neither of us can control that."
She straightened up. "You will be back."
The bit of light coming into the room highlighted her features. Her healthy features. Yes, one day she would be a beauty, bring those around her to their knees. Then she would kick everyone's kneecaps and smash them to the ground. "Yes." Hell, she bested a demon.
Chapter 4
CRUSH
* * *
One last time Leora ran the brush through her hair and glanced over at the door. She stood still, not moving only listening to the sounds of her home. Tonight Dolan would come, and tonight she would make him realize she was ready to be with him.
All remained quiet and she broke the silence with one lone laugh. She didn’t Halloween to remind her he was on his way, yesterday the shivers started, a faint vibration telling her he would be here soon and she began her plans.
Hell, her plans began years before, but her execution started last night. Tonight, after her father came home from work and her stepmother fed him his slop, she made a huge deal out of making dessert and coffee and choosing to stay in the manor and hand out candy like a good little southern girl.
While her so-called parents beamed at her sudden helpful nature, she made sure they would be sound asleep long after Dolan disappeared with the first light of day. The wonders of antihistamines. Dolan had been right all along. All she needed to do was take control.
Now those she used to fear practically bowed when she approached. At last she learned to keep her mouth shut, but only when it served to protect her and her own private supernatural force. While she wanted to be dark and brooding, she chose a different world persona. Stylish clothes, light makeup, the popular girl both loved and loathed. She had the latter down to perfection. One whip of her tongue could have any girl in her class sobbing like a baby. After all, she cheated death. Her miraculous recovery held everyone in awe. Even doctors couldn't explain the cure. Her recovery made her a superstar, one that never dimmed like the stars in Dolan's picture.
Only in private did she try to call him to her. Candles, crystals, spells anything to do what everyone else on the planet tried to avoid at any cost.
Get a demon to come to them.
Apparently one thing she couldn't control and something she needed to change.
The shivers intensified, grew stronger, a unique sensation unlike anything else. A cross between cold and hot, excited and terrified, and she put her hands on her hips. "Are you coming or not!" She stomped her foot.
As if on command, the door opened and her breath caught.
"You know better than to ever doubt me." He slipped inside her room and closed the door.
Her throat dried out at the site of him and she lifted her hand to her throat to finger the necklace he gave her. Last time her illness blunted his features, but still she remembered. He never changed, down to the amount of stubble on his chin. The dirty bad-boy blond hair, the dimple, the stubble, the body that she now knew was as incredible as the owner. No wonder the boys at school were nothing but playthings, no one could compare. Others may have their crushes on sports stars, actors or musicians, but as far back as her memory went, it was always only Dolan.
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br /> "Are you going to speak or will I be entertaining myself?" With a tilt of his head he went to her desk and sat in her chair.
She forced herself to blink, remember her goals and her resolve. "All I do is wait for you."
A smile grew across his face. "I can remedy that."
He handed her the perfect line, and she arched her back causing her short, fitted t-shirt to ride up on her flat stomach and making sure to jut her breasts out. "I can think of several things you can do."
"I take it you're feeling well?" He gazed down at his fingernails.
She balled her hand in a fist, stomped over to him lifting her leg on her desk to hike up her skirt, and pretending to adjust her cute strappy sandal. They needed to get going, they only had a few hours together. Like it or not Mr. Dolan was going to see that she wasn't a sickly twelve year old anymore. "I am feeling wonderful. In the prime of my life." She peeked over at him.
This time she achieved the desired result, he stared right at her.
"Something wrong?" She fingered the buckle on her shoe, arching her back to ensure he took in every one of her curves.
Without a word he stood up, pacing the perimeter of the room before stopping at the window.
She put her leg down and went to him, pressing her hand to his back. "I'm not sure if I thanked you properly for saving my life." Since his last visit all she did was think about him, want him. Though she knew he wasn't human, she still relished how his muscles moved under her touch.
"I don't need any thanks. What I did, I did for myself, not for you."
"No matter, I still benefitted." She swallowed back a smile and moved to his side, leaning around him until he looked at her. "Tell me what you need."
He turned to her and she put his hands on his shoulders. Her breath caught at his height, his closeness, his unique spicy scent swirling around her. She imagined this moment where he made her his. "Tell me what a demon needs. I'm sure you require some sort of payment."
"Demon?" He set his jaw and spoke through clenched teeth. "What makes you say that?"