Drop Dead Demons

by Kirk, A

  “Absolutely,” I said. “You also took twenty years off my life. Sure you’re okay? You should take off your shirt.”

  Ayden raised a brow.

  Too obvious? Probably.

  “You know.” I shrugged. “For medical purposes only.”

  There was clanging and banging then Matthias said, “It’s no bloody use.”

  “Good.” Blake pulled the last dart out of Fido and grinned ear-to-ear. “Now do we get to go treasure hunting?”

  No one had a better plan so…

  We’d been here for what seemed like hours. Currently, Ayden and I were scouring the paperwork on a heavy wooden table for clues that might hint about a stone. The rest of the guys were scattered around the room. When I tossed aside another sheet of parchment like it was Lucian’s dirty laundry, Ayden caught it one-handed, wincing slightly before unrolling it with great care.

  “Oh my God!” he exclaimed looking over the elegant script. “This was signed by King Louis the ninth!”

  “Nerd,” Blake chuckled from somewhere across the room.

  “Aurora,” Ayden said, “maybe you should look at things that are…less fragile.” He set the document aside like it was a precious artifact.

  Okay, so maybe it was, but a lot less precious than my life.

  “Fine. I’ll go through more chests of jewels.” I looked around with despair. “But this seems so hopeless.”

  “I’ll help.” As Ayden pushed off the table to stand, he grimaced and reached a hand to his chest. At my worried look, he started to shrug, then thought better of it and stilled. “I told you, it’s nothing.”

  He kept saying that, but something wasn’t right. Jayden had inspected the spear wound and deemed it a “minor puncture” that was “not life-threatening,” although, the “anomalous stippling” around the injury was “disconcerting,” and he wanted to get home to the lab for some tests. Ayden’s movements made it clear he was in pain, but he remained tight-lipped and wouldn’t let me get close enough to check it out myself. I was worried.

  There was a crash.

  “Stupid bloody— Blake!” Matthias yelled. “I can’t reach! This stupid no-powers business — ugh! There’s another room over here. Tristan follow me.”

  “Why me?”

  “Hurry up. Everyone keep looking for an exit.”

  We’d checked out the back where Fido had emerged from, but it was a maze of a dozen dark tunnels branching out in different directions that nobody wanted to risk getting lost in just yet. When I’d tried to get her to “go fetch” us an exit, she’d rolled over to get her belly scratched. My demon whisperer techniques needed some work.

  In the back, we’d found some cool looking construction machinery. Flint’s weird, warped versions of modern day equipment. Tractors, bulldozers, tunnel drillers, and much more. If push came to shove, we could dig our way out with the same machines Flint had used to make this place.

  I yawned and tripped over a fallen urn as I followed Ayden down an aisle. I was cold, wet, exhausted, covered in dust, trapped, exhausted, banged up, exhausted, and, best of all, lacking the one thing that would keep me alive. Rose’s precious stone.

  Treasure hunting sucked.

  In my peripherals, an angel statue moved. I squealed and dived for cover. I was about to yell for Ayden to do the same when the angel spoke.

  “Aurora?” Jayden popped out from behind the statue.

  “Jeez!” I growled. “Don’t do that. I thought another statue had come to life to eat me.”

  Jayden shook my arm. “We require your assistance to discern if there is an egress.”

  I was too tired to ask for a vocab lesson.

  “Go. I got this.” Ayden nudged me away then turned to sift through another treasure chest.

  Jayden lead me through the labyrinth of luxury antiquities to a far off chamber where Logan waited by a wall.

  “What am I digressing?” I rubbed my eyes.

  Jayden frowned. “Nothing, you haven’t said a thing.”

  “Touch this.” Logan tapped a double spiral carved on the wall.

  “It’s Flint’s symbol for the Divinicus and Bellator.” Jayden held up the journal. “The more commonly seen circular, smoothly curved spiral denotes sensors that react to you, while the more geometric, quadrangular spiral marks sensors that react to the Bellator. Together they’ll react to either one.”

  “This is the only one we could find close by,” Logan said. “See if it opens —”

  “An egress.” Jayden seemed excited. “I already told her.”

  At my blank look, Logan clarified, “Exit.”

  I slapped my hand on the Divinicus/Bellator symbol. Heat flared. Something rumbled beneath it. I jumped back and watched the top layer of rock on the wall just…disappear.

  In its place was revealed a mish-mash of metal that looked part massive puzzle box, part Fort Knox vault door. Thick rods, rectangular bars, gears of various sizes, sliding bolts, knobs, handles, levers, all conjoined in an intricate and massively complicated deadlock machination. Then, like some enmeshed cluster of serpents, it unraveled before our eyes with more rumbles and a series of whirrs, clicks, clacks, and sliding metal. Finally, with a colossal sigh, as if we’d awakened a giant sleeping for a zillion years, the door rolled open.

  “Welcome to the sanctuary,” Sally Security intoned.

  Coughing on dead air and dust, we gazed into darkness.

  “Well?” I said.

  Logan gave me a weak smile. “It likes you best, so…”

  “Tag. You’re it.” Jayden smiled. “See how I’m learning playful colloquialisms. It refers to the game of tag and your turn to —”

  “Yeah, I get it.” I gave him a level look. So much for big, bad demon hunters.

  I took one tentative step forward. Then another, ears and eyes stretching their limits to reach through the dark and silent space, nerves twitching, on edge. As I crossed the threshold, lights flickered on. I squealed and reeled back, crashing into Logan and Jayden.

  “Don’t stop,” Jayden urged. “We’re on the brink—”

  “Of getting shot by poison darts,” I snapped. “Maybe. I don’t know and neither do you. Don’t rush me.”

  Jayden made an exasperated noise, but Logan put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

  I moved deeper into the room, almost having to push through the dense atmosphere. A faint smell of ozone twitched my nostrils. Thick, dry air crawled over my skin bringing a chill that made me shiver. I initially flinched as Victorian lamps ca-chunked to life, but then the space illuminated and my head swiveled up, down, and sideways.

  “Holy crap,” I breathed.

  The far end of the room was still in darkness, but I could tell it was massive and reached about four stories high. Stone walls were carved with numerous words, neatly organized in columns and rows. I couldn’t read it but guessed the language as Latin.

  Lines of bookcases made of carved rock rose up across the center of the room, each shelf stacked with volume after volume of books. Mostly leather-bound. All old.

  We walked down the aisles, necks threatening to dislocate as we craned to take it all in.

  Sure it was impressive, but I sighed. “Great. More crap to look through.”

  “What is this place?” Logan sounded awestruck.

  “One heck of a library.” Blake turned in circles.

  Jayden jumped. “When did you get here? You’re supposed to be looking for Rose’s requested stone artifact. You’re the earth expert.”

  “I’m letting Matthias yell at Tristan for a change.”

  “Go back!”

  “No. I’m tired. It’s too hard. It’s like trying to find a potato chip in a bag of sand.”

  I ran my fingers across the leather spines, noting titles in Latin. Some also had ranges of dates listed, all of centuries past.

  A light flickered from the front of the room. By the time I made it past the last aisle, the glow had become stable. There was no exit, but despite my exhau
sted — did I mention that? — state, I recognized cool when I saw it.

  It was like a small apartment. From a different century.

  Front and center was a huge desk. It looked old and French. There was a seating area, a small kitchen that housed an old-fashioned iron stove and a granite sink with large metal water taps. Nearby, a small pine table with two chairs sat across from a doorway that led into darkness.

  Further back, one corner held an enormous clawfoot tub. In another, near a full-length gilded mirror, was a brightly colored collection of vintage Victorian era fashion. Racks of gorgeous dresses in vibrant hues and yards of shimmering fabric. Shelves of elaborate hats decorated with feathers, lace, and ribbon. Rows of dainty shoes and boots.

  Tucked against the wall was a four-poster bed draped in heavy tapestries. It had an enormous, extra fluffy mattress covered in pale lace. Way less picky than Goldilocks, my weary body ached to rest on that pretty pile of dust. If only for a minute. Or twenty.

  I yawned as I passed the desk, glancing at something resting on top. I stumbled. My heart vomited to my throat and I bolted, screaming with gusto.

  Blake caught me by the waist.

  Logan dropped into a hunter’s stance, arms up like he held an invisible bow, fingers grasping at nothing. He scowled. “I hate this.”

  Jayden frowned briefly at his empty hands as Blake moved me behind his bulk.

  “What is it, babe?”

  I pointed and gagged. Logan and Jayden stalked to either side of the desk, fists up, ready to strike. Then they looked at each other and relaxed.

  “Hardly a danger,” Jayden said.

  “Didn’t say it was dangerous,” I finally managed. “That was my ‘It scared the crap out of me!’ reaction.”

  Jayden leaned over the desk, studying the object of my horror. “A skeleton. Female. Sixties, I’d guess.”

  Why would any teenage guy know that?

  “Who is she?” I slapped my cheeks, trying to keep my eyes open as the adrenaline faded. Didn’t work. I leaned against Blake who ruffled my hair.

  The skeleton sat in the chair, slumped over the desk, like she’d laid her head down for a nap and never woke up. Empty eye sockets stared at me, gray hair, surprisingly long and thick, draped behind her. The remnants of a blue dress hung off the bones. A gold chain was around what was left of her neck, a gold pocket watch hanging upon it.

  From underneath her bony hand, which still had a silver and black fountain pen entwined within, Logan picked up a leather bound book and flipped it open. “Pages are blank.”

  “Fantastic.” I felt like chucking something so I grabbed the book.

  Heat zapped into my hands, up my arms. Words, sounds, and images jettisoned toward me, blurred, then stabbed into my eyes, burrowed into my head. Towers, cold steel bars, cloaked figures, faces lost behind dark hoods. Run! My brain sizzled on overload.

  I dropped the book. But the wave of visions kept crashing. I clutched my skull. Opened my mouth to speak, but a torrent rushed into my head. Everything went black. And I gave in to the relief of unconsciousness.

  Chapter Seventy

  Run! Now! Before they realize what you carry! Run! Now!

  The words danced in my head, over and over. Filling the darkness.

  Someone cradled me against a solid chest. Voices nudged me awake.

  “Place her on the bed.”

  “No. It’s old. And a dead lady slept in it.”

  “She wasn’t deceased when she slept in it. She perished at her desk.”

  “Close enough. I’m keeping babe.”

  The arms around me tightened.

  “Fine. Logan, more water.”

  A squeaky creak. A rush of water. I tried to talk.

  “Babe moved!”

  “I told you her vitals are fine. Give her a moment. This will help.”

  Cold water splashed on my face. I sputtered. Tried to slap it away.

  “Babe’s awake!”

  “Calm yourself.”

  “You calm yourself, logic boy,” Blake said. “I’m a passionate guy. I get to be upset. Especially when my best girl collapses after making words magically appear in a book.” Blake jiggled me. “Babe?” My eyes opened. “She’s back!”

  He was big on announcing the obvious.

  I blinked, expecting pain considering the brain malfunction I had before I blacked out, but…

  “I’m okay.” I patted Blake’s shoulder.

  He started to set me in a chair, but I squirmed onto my feet. Bounced on my toes. I was feeling strong and kind of…tingly. I didn’t want to sit. Or stand still.

  Logan held out a pewter goblet. “Jayden says the water’s fine so drink up.”

  I raised it high and downed the fresh tasting cold liquid in one gulp then slapped the goblet down on the table.Jayden put a hand on my forehead. “No fever. Any pain? Nausea?”

  “Nope.” I pushed him away, stretched, wiggled my body. “But Elizabeth’s diary sure packs a wallop. Wow.”

  “How did you know her name was Elizabeth?” Jayden said. “After you touched the book, words appeared on the page and we only just read that it belonged to—”

  “Elizabeth Grace Flint.” I tilted my head sideways to crack my neck. “Nathan’s sister. He built these caves for her to hide from the Mandatum because she knew too much.”

  “About what?” Blake asked.

  Run! Now!

  “So hot in here, huh?” I gathered my hair up and fanned the back of my neck. “About the usual stuff. Scandal, sex, a cover-up. And the fact that the Mandatum murdered the last Divinicus.”

  Chapter Seventy-One

  “You’re making no sense.” Jayden was frantically flipping pages in Elizabeth’s diary. “The Flint files mentioned a sister, but there’s nothing in here about murder.”

  “Trust me. There is. Because whatever’s in there,” I pointed to the book, “is in here.” I pointed to my head. I waved off Jayden as he opened his mouth. “When I touched the diary—”

  “The words lit up like invisible ink coming to life,” Blake said.

  I rocked on my heels. “Right. Then all the info rushed out and straight into my head.”

  Logan glanced at the other two boys. “Elizabeth. She was a Scriptor?”

  “You’re reasoning is sound,” Jayden nodded. “They’re the only hunters that can communicate the written word into another’s mind.”

  “But across different time zones, and after they’re dead?” Blake shook his head. “I’ve never heard of a Scriptor doing that.”

  “You’ve never heard of Ernest Hemmingway, either,” Logan said.

  Blake made a face. “That jerk from third period?”

  I scanned the room like a stone skipping on water until my gaze settled on a far wall. I ran to it and slapped my hand over one of the Latin carvings. Stone rumbled, the smooth surface cracked in a rectangle, and a drawer slid out from the wall. I pointed to the leather bound books stacked inside.

  “These are more of her diaries during the years that she was here in Gossamer Falls. But those — Blake lift me up.”

  Hands on my waist, Blake raised me up to sit on his shoulders. I braced a hand on the wall, put a foot on his shoulder, pushed off his head with my other hand, put my other foot on his other shoulder, and managed to stand up surprisingly steady. At this height I could touch some of the higher writings. I ran my hand over a carving to my left. More rumbling and another drawer unrolled from the rock.

  “More diaries,” I teetered on tip-toe, Blake remaining rock-solid beneath me. “This and another level have ones from when she was living with the Divinicus. In Europe mostly, but they traveled a lot for security reasons. And those,” I pointed to the uppermost levels then moved my finger around the room “are the diaries written by or about all the other Divinicuses — or is it Divinic-i? — over the centuries. A complete history.”

  Jayden’s eyes tracked slowly over the room. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat before speaking in a hushed, r
everent tone. “You’re telling me that we have…the Divinincus Nex Chronicles?”

  I patted the stone. “Guess so.”

  “But that’s impossible.” Jayden’s thumbs popped in and out of joint. “You’re talking about something the Mandatum guards with the utmost secrecy and security.”

  “Whatever.” I shrugged. “Moving on. Blake, catch.” I jumped into the air, legs straight, toes pointed, and dropped into Blake’s waiting arms.

  “Nice, babe. We could be cheerleaders together.”

  “Sure.” I popped from his arms to my feet, darted over to the tall stone bookcases, and swiped my hand over the spines. “These are re-creations of all the books Elizabeth ever read. Including, but not limited to, Mandatum stuff. Things like history, accounting records, personnel files. Things that would be in—”

  “The Mandatum archives.” Jayden was barely breathing as he wandered in a daze to the aisles of books, neck craned to stare at the sky-high shelves. “She stole these? For that alone they would come after her. How could we not know this was missing? It would be catastrophic to the society. And how did she get to all this top secret information? Only a very few on the highest levels have access.”

  “She didn’t steal it,” I said. “She re-created it. She had a photographic memory of everything she saw or read. Books, documents, images, people. Even anything auditory like conversations or music. Whatever she experienced was in her head forever and she spent years writing it all down. Well, not always writing, exactly.” I rotated my fingers around my temple. “Sometimes she could kind of think it onto the paper. I’m not quite sure how that works. Yet. I’ve got to read, read, read. More, more, more.”

  “No way a normal Scriptor could do that,” Blake said.

  I grabbed a book, but before I could open it, Logan snatched it from my hands. “Maybe later.”

  I frowned. “Why not right now?”

  “You seem a bit…wound up,” Logan said. “I’m still confused. She was a fugitive hunter?”

  “Maybe. I need to read more, but…you’re right. Later.” I glanced at the books, then closed my eyes, fingers pulling at my hair. “She…she…”