Demon's Daughter

by Amy Braun

  I refused to turn into Elizabeth’s life-size Barbie doll, never wanting to wear dresses or do weird things with my hair, so Elizabeth went after Dro.

  “Hi Constance!” Elizabeth said, her voice irritatingly chipper. “Why are you playing the boy sport again? Is this your sister? Are you Andromeda? Why do they call you Andromeda?”

  I groaned. Hurricane Elizabeth had touched down.

  Dro gripped her doll tightly and looked at me nervously. She was shy around new people and watched how I talked to them. If I was nice to them, she knew they were okay to talk to. If I was mean to them, she knew to stay away. Elizabeth was like an alien to her. She wasn’t bad, just crazy.

  “Hi, Elizabeth,” I said in a tired voice, kicking the soccer ball on my way over to where Dro was sitting on the grass. Elizabeth wasn’t going to hurt my sister, but Dro would relax the closer I was to her.

  “Does she talk? You can talk, right?”

  I sat on the grass next to my little sister. “Yeah, she does. You’re asking too many questions, Elizabeth. Calm down.”

  “But she looks so weird,” Elizabeth said, plopping down on the grass in front of Dro and placing her elbows on her knees so her hands could hold her chin up. Dro started looking at Elizabeth curiously, but the big eyed-ditz wasn’t done asking her million questions yet.

  “Why is your hair white? Are you an albino or something? Shouldn’t you have red eyes? Do you get sunburned really badly?”

  Elizabeth just went on and on and on. I wondered when she was going to run out of breath.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Dro said suddenly.

  Elizabeth finally stopped talking. She gaped like a fish, then smiled so hard I thought her face was going to crack in half.

  “You do talk!” Elizabeth started off again. “Ask me, ask me, ask me!”

  Dro looked at me like she wanted my permission. I shrugged. I didn’t know where she was going with this, and I wasn’t the boss of her. Dro shifted nervously, then looked at Elizabeth.

  “How come you stole Jenny’s doll when you broke yours?”

  Elizabeth paled and started gaping again. I stared at my little sister.

  “How– Who told you about that?!” Elizabeth shrieked.

  Who indeed, seeing as Jenny lived two blocks away and had never met Dro.

  “Nobody,” Dro confessed. “I just know it.”

  Elizabeth shot to her feet, pointing an accusing finger at my little sister. “You’re a liar! A rotten little liar! You’ll be in big trouble if you tell anybody!”

  I pushed to my feet and quickly stood in front of Dro. My fists were balled at my sides. Elizabeth stopped shouting. I was known around the block for being a tough kid. Boys bigger than me had tried to bully me, and I had sent them home in tears.

  “Go home, Elizabeth,” I said coldly. “Leave us alone.”

  She hesitated, wanting to argue and get her way. I wouldn’t budge. Elizabeth pouted, then spun on her heel and stomped off. As soon as she passed a couple houses, I turned and sat on the lawn across from Dro. My little sister was plucking the dress of her doll, trying to focus on something other than Elizabeth’s words.

  Dro had always been a little weird. But I’d never expected this.

  “You okay, Dro?” I asked.

  She nodded, but didn’t look at me and said nothing.

  “How did you know about the stolen doll?” I asked after a moment.

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I saw that Elizabeth had a bad secret, and then I just knew what it was.” Dro looked at me, big blue eyes filled with sadness. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  I hesitated. Dro was my sister. She knew that I loved her and would do anything for her. But she’d known something nobody but Elizabeth could have known, and it made me nervous.

  It also made me wonder more about where Dro had really come from…

  “I just wanted a little help,” Dro sighed. “I mean, he may have done some bad things, but he was still a priest. He’s supposed to want to help people.”

  I didn’t bother telling Dro that a profession doesn’t necessarily define a person. She wasn’t stupid. She just didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t know what she was, there was no one we could trust but ourselves, and we weren’t exactly on the most popular lists.

  She lifted her head, glancing up. “Storm’s coming,” she said.

  I looked at the sky. Dark clouds were building quickly. I frowned. The monsters could only come out in darkness and while they hated the sunlight, I didn’t want to take the chance that they would hunt us in a storm. I didn’t like that we had to stay in Amarillo, but now we didn’t have a choice. We were low on supplies, needed food, and I had to find a new car. Or at least new license plates.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get back to the car. We’ll try somewhere else. Maybe we can find a demonologist.”

  Dro looked up at me, hopeful and confused. “Really?”

  “Yeah. They’re supposed to be nuts about this kind of stuff.”

  Dro smiled thinly at me. I smiled back at her, but my heart wasn’t fully in it. I had more doubts than assurances that we would find out what Dro was. But trying again would make her feel better, and that was the best I could do.

  Chapter 3

  Finding a demonologist wasn’t the challenge. The challenge was finding one whose shop didn’t look like a cross between an apothecary and a circus tent.

  Signs boasting “real” fortunetellers and “Spirit-Searching-Saturdays” were posted on rundown shops on streets hidden away from public view. Dro and I had stopped at a phone booth and used the address book to look for all the demonologists in Amarillo. We stopped in every single shop, and I came to a solid conclusion.

  They were all con artists who didn’t know a thing about demons.

  Granted, I didn’t know much about them either. But I did know that when someone avoids answering questions and tries to sell a five hundred dollar demon hunting kit complete with anti-demonic possession pills, the nicest thing to do is walk out of their shop and never come back. Dro forced me to be polite, but with each offer and attempted up-sell, all my faked politeness was fading away.

  By the sixth shop, I was out of patience. I was about ready to tell the owner that I had been fighting monsters since I was fourteen years old, that I carried a small arsenal with me, and that I had seen and killed things that would make him piss his pants.

  Dro could sense the hostility pulsing off me as I debated slapping the anti-possession pills out of the shopkeeper’s hand. She touched my arm and smiled at the shopkeeper. His eyes sparkled with wonder.

  “Thank you for your time, but I don’t think this is what we need.”

  She smiled at him again then pulled me toward the exit. I glanced over my shoulder at the shopkeeper to make sure he wasn’t doing anything suspicious, then walked with my sister down the street. I reached under my jacket and pulled up the hood of my sweater. The quick moving storm clouds had darkened the street, people rushing along to get inside from the rain, but I was using the hood to keep my face hidden. There was no way to hide Dro. She didn’t look like anyone else in the world.

  Dro could sense other people staring at her through the shops or car windows. Even the people jogging past with papers or umbrellas over their heads gave her a second look. I glared at as many of them as I could see. Dro hated it when people stared at her.

  I walked close to her, blocking her from as many eyes as possible. I wasn’t a fan of the unwanted attention either, but there was nothing I could do about it. So I distracted Dro by asking how many were on the list. She picked the crumpled piece of paper out of her coat pocket and looked at it.

  “Just one. It should be up here.”

  I took the piece of paper from her and read it. Garcia Preternatural Associates. A father and son who promised extensive knowledge and incredible results. Which I would believe when I saw. She shoved the paper back in her pocket while lifted my head when the rain started falling ha
rder.

  “Okay, they’re our last stop. I’m not liking the weather.”

  Dro smiled at me. “Usually you’re jumping for the chance to shower.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Usually I’m not freezing. Come on. If we move fast enough, we might be able to make it out of the storm.”

  ***

  We didn’t make it out of the storm. In fact, the rain got worse the closer we got to the home-run business. The house was a two-story bungalow with white siding and a wooden porch. A plastic sign that read Garcia Preternatural Associates: Family Owned and Operated since 1997 was staked into the front lawn. The windows were curtained, golden light glowing from behind them and letting us know that someone was home.

  The sight of it reminded me of the house Dro and I lived in as children. It had been so long that I’d nearly forgotten what comfort looked like.

  A memory was pushing its way up into my head, but I stopped it before it could make me depressed. We had to get inside, out of the rain and away from the street where we could be recognized. By the time we made it up to the porch, we were soaked to the bone. Dro clutched her drenched jacket around her body, though it was doing nothing to keep her warm. The joints in my hand were stiff from the cold. I yanked open the screen door then gripped the doorknob. I twisted it to find it was unlocked, so I pushed it open.

  I shoved my way into the house, the screen door slamming behind Dro. She was shaking in her jacket while I got a better look at the front hallway.

  Everything smelled like sage. The walls were painted an off-white color, making the hall seem wider than it was. A couple tables with tissue boxes and decorative vases were on my right under a large silver cross on the wall. At the farthest end of the hall was a closed door. The staircase was on my right. On my left was the entrance to the living room. I started to walk toward it when someone entered the hallway and nearly ran into me.

  He stopped while I stepped back, my arm wrapping around Dro and pushing her behind me. This new person looked about as harmful as a marshmallow, but pretty faces lied just as easily as ugly ones.

  This kid was definitely pretty. A little thin maybe, but his Hispanic face was smooth and unmarked. If it weren’t for the dark stubble on his face, he would have looked like a very tall ten year old boy. He had a mop of curly black hair and gentle brown eyes. He smiled a nice, friendly smile.

  I didn’t trust him.

  “Uh, you ladies look a little lost,” he said. “And like you need some towels.”

  When my defensive expression didn’t change, he looked over my shoulder at Dro. His smile faded, and I could practically see his heart skipping a beat.

  I didn’t have a problem with men looking at my sister, or women for that matter. Human beings are naturally attracted to beauty, and there wasn’t a woman alive who was more beautiful than Dro. Things got messy when men lusted too heavily after her, or women tried to beat her on sight out of jealousy. That was when I got involved, and they paid a serious price.

  But I didn’t get that sense from this kid. At least not yet. I could feel Dro moving behind me, her nerves raw and evident.

  “Please,” she said. “We need a place to stay until the rain stops.”

  She hadn’t added that our entrance here wasn’t random. One thing at a time, I suppose.

  “We’ll clean up the floor,” she added. “We didn’t mean to barge in here, but the storm was bad and… And we didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  He kept staring at her. I wondered if he recognized her from the Wanted lists, where she was listed as my accomplice, but doubted it. If he had, then he would have had to recognize me. Instead, he didn’t even notice that I was the wall between him and Dro. He was too amazed by her.

  “No worries,” he smirked. “I’ll get you some towels. I might be able to find some spare clothes for you to borrow so the ones you’re wearing can dry out.”

  Dro smiled. “That would be great, thank you.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait a second,” I said, before he could take off. “We’re coming with you.”

  He frowned at me. “Look, my dad made me clean the whole house yesterday. I’d really don’t want to do it again.”

  “Tough. We’re going with you.” No way I was letting him take off alone to call the cops on us.

  The kid looked past me to Dro.

  “She has serious trust issues,” Dro explained. “But I promise we won’t make any trouble.”

  He glanced at me with uncertainty, but agreed. “Okay, fine. This way.”

  I let Dro go in front of me, glancing in the living room as the kid walked us toward the end of the hall. He stopped at the far door and pulled it open. My hand slipped to my hatchet, my body tensing.

  The kid flicked on the lights to the bathroom and rummaged around the linen cabinet for a pair of towels. He turned and handed them to me. I pulled them from his hands a little too aggressively, handing one to Dro before wiping down my face with the other. I shook out my hair, but kept my jacket on. There was no need to show the kid how many weapons I was carrying. I was going to have to empty my backpack at some point and make sure my supplies dried out. It sucked that we were going to have to throw out the leftovers from this morning.

  “Do you guys want something hot to drink?” the kid asked.

  We looked up at him. “Would it be too much to ask?” Dro asked hesitantly.

  He waved his hand. “Nah, not at all.” He squinted at Dro, then pointed his finger at her. “Let me guess. Hot chocolate with marshmallows and cinnamon.”

  She blinked, grinning. “Good guess, especially the cinnamon part.”

  I looked at the kid suspiciously. It wasn’t hard to guess that Dro liked hot chocolate, even narrowing it down with the marshmallows. But the cinnamon… That made me wary.

  He turned his eyes to me. “And you probably want black coffee, maybe with some kind of alcohol in it.” He held out his hands innocently. “Which I’m fresh out of, unfortunately. Dad and I aren’t heavy drinkers.”

  He grinned his goofy grin again, but I was becoming more apprehensive about him. He must have noticed, because his smile faded again. He cleared his throat and edged his way past me to the kitchen. I watched his back for a moment before following him.

  “Anything I should know about him?” I muttered to my sister for supernatural insight.

  She shook her head. “He seems okay, but there’s something weird about him.”

  “Weird how?”

  “I can’t explain it, but he has something extra in his mind. Maybe it’s another sense,” she looked at him from the doorway of the kitchen. “He’s different. Special.” She turned her head up to me again. “But I can’t read anything on him to believe that he’ll hurt us. He’s a good guy.”

  That remained to be seen, but I trusted Dro’s instincts enough to give his kid a chance. Having her explain it to anyone, even me, had never really gone well…

  Elizabeth’s parents had called our Dad about five minutes after he got home. They said Elizabeth was crying and hysterical about what had happened with Dro’s random knowledge and my mean attitude. After calming them down and hanging up the phone, he walked into the living room where we were sitting on the couch, waiting to get scolded. Dro sat hunched over with her tiny pale hands in her lap, looking down guiltily. I sat next to her with my arms crossed over my chest, looking serious and feeling bored.

  Dad put his hands on his hips. He looked exhausted, his overalls and golden skin still dirty from working at the construction site. He hadn’t even had time to sit down and eat dinner before problems started with his kids.

  “Okay,” he sighed. “Who wants to explain what happened?” He looked at me like I was the one to blame.

  Usually I was, but not this time.

  “Elizabeth is just being a big baby,” I complained. “We didn’t do anything.”

  “You said she stole something,” Dad pointed out. “That isn’t a small thing to accuse
someone of.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Constance. Tell the truth.”

  I pouted. I wasn’t going to take the fall for this.

  Until Dro decided that she would.

  “It’s my fault,” she said quietly from beside me. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to look, but…”

  Dro shifted back onto the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and looking smaller than even a five year old should.

  “It was an accident,” she whispered.

  Dad looked at her strangely, glancing at me for answers. I said nothing. I might have seen what happened, but that didn’t mean I understood it. I still didn’t know if I should believe Dro or not.

  “What was an accident? Elizabeth’s mother told me you said Elizabeth stole a doll from that girl Jenny, but how do you know it belonged to Jenny?”

  Dro hugged her knees tighter to her chest, biting her lip and holding back tears. Dad walked over to the couch and sat down beside his adopted daughter. He put his arm over her tiny shoulders.

  “I’m not mad at you, Andromeda. I know Elizabeth is a drama queen, and I know that neither of you took that doll. But I don’t know how you knew about it in the first place. I can’t fix this unless you tell me the truth.”

  Dro shivered and Dad hugged her closely. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll believe whatever you tell me.”

  My sister looked at him, blinking her icy blue eyes. “I saw it.”

  “You saw Elizabeth take the doll from Jenny?”

  She shook her head. “Not in person. I saw it in my head.”

  Dad went still. “What do you mean?”

  She shivered again, like she was about to cry. Dad kept his arm around her, but his dark brown eyes were uncertain. Usually I was the one he had to be wary of. Dro was a saint.

  “It was like a dream. I looked at Elizabeth and I saw these pictures in my head. I saw her taking the doll from Jenny’s house last week and putting it in her backpack when she wasn’t looking. I just looked at her and knew.”