by Amy Braun
It let me go and screamed as the blessed water boiled on its face. I winced at the awful, screeching sound, then darted forward and used my hatchet to cut open the Red’s throat. Hot, black demon blood splashed onto my shirt, like bubbling oil from a skillet. I slammed into the Red’s chest and started hammering my hatchet into it. The Red scratched wildly at my shoulders. I ripped out the hatchet and pounded it into the Red’s face. Then again. And again.
It finally stopped moving, dropping off my blade and disintegrating to a pile of ash at my feet. I scattered the ash with my boot. I’d never seen a demon reform itself, and I didn’t want to think it was possible, but who knew what supernatural monsters were capable of. I stepped away, and then the swell of pain hit me.
My chest and stomach ached, my throat and face stung fiercely, my arm burned angrily, and my head was pounding. Adrenaline was keeping my hands shaking and my heart racing. I picked up my fallen knife and sheathed it inside my jacket. I put the hatchet back on my hip. I closed my eyes, inhaling the cool night air.
Dro was going to kill me for coming back like this, but I had learned from the experience. Dro was likely a Nephilim, and the demons probably wanted her alive. Also, expected the unexpected with demons, and never, ever, ever summon one. I tilted my head back, wincing as I stretched out my neck. I pressed my fingers to the scratches and opened my eyes to look at the blood when I caught sight of something on the roof of the building in front of me.
Two human shapes stood vigilantly next to one another, their attention on me. I couldn’t really see their faces, but one of them had light hair, the other dark. Both of them wore long white coats, and the way they were staring made me nervous.
Before I could do anything, they turned and vanished into the night, blinking out of existence, like they had never been there at all. Maybe I had imagined them. I had gotten some good hits to the head. Even if they were real, there was no way was I going to try and follow them. I was in no condition for another fight against two people who would be fully charged and ready to kick my ass.
Still, imagined or not, I would be on the lookout for them. I had a highly visual memory, and knowing who to watch for was something I had always done to keep myself and Dro alive.
Chapter 7
I’d expected Dro to freak out when she saw me stagger back to the house covered in scratches and blood. I’d even expected Manny to freak out. But I hadn’t expected Max’s reaction.
“Seriously, did you want to be Lady Terminator as a kid or something?” he scolded from the porch as I gingerly peeled off my lucky jacket.
“Never saw it,” I muttered, checking the wounds on my body.
“Get your butt in the house so I can heal you, Constance,” Dro ordered, pointing at the door angrily.
I raised my eyebrows, then gave her a small smile. “Bossy, bossy,” I teased.
She wasn’t in the mood. “I wouldn’t have to be if you had been careful,” she emphasized, the anger in her voice not matching with the concern in her eyes.
“I don’t always hunt demons on week nights,” I pointed out, walking into the living room.
“And you had better not do so again,” Manny said. His arms were folded over his chest and his frown was deep.
“Relax,” I sighed, dropping onto the couch. “It’s off my bucket list now.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t fill me with encouragement.”
I didn’t reply because I felt Dro’s fingers on my damaged flesh. The hot and cold pins-and-needles feeling zipped over my skin, lighting up my nerves. I couldn’t keep from wincing, just like Dro couldn’t keep from pressing her lips into a line and looking depressed. But it wasn’t her fault. It was mine, and I’d tell her that when we had our talk later.
As Dro healed me, Max came out of the kitchen with a cloth and a bowl of water. He sat beside Dro and began mopping up my blood. I raised an eyebrow at him as he wiped my skin clean.
“What’s with the pampering?” I asked. “I’m not your type,” I said, tilting my head toward Dro.
Max snorted. “Definitely not. I like sane women.”
I glared at Max, but he was getting used to my attitude and angry stares. He just shrugged it off and moved for the wound on my neck.
“But I figure I can do this, so the girl who actually is my type won’t have to…”
I turned my head to see what his problem was. Then I realized he had pushed my hair back from my neck, and seen my tattoo.
Max looked horrified, edging away from me slowly.
“Are you… Are you really?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Is she really a what?” Manny asked suspiciously.
I brushed my hair with my hand, hiding the tattoo behind my ear. Dro gave me a worried look.
“One of the Espanis de Sangre,” Max breathed. “A Blood Thorn.”
The room fell into a deadly silence, everyone suddenly nervous about what I would do. Didn’t matter that I wouldn’t hurt Max or Manny any sooner than I would Dro. Once someone hears about the Blood Thorns, they tend to get anxious.
I couldn’t blame them. The Espanis de Sangre were about as ruthless a drug cartel could get. They controlled the drug and trafficking trade just beyond the Texan border, terrorizing people living in Ciudad Juárez. They had a highly trained security team with more guns than the cops, more money than the Mexican president, and a reputation for killing their enemies gruesomely. They would leave rose thorns in pools of blood near the bodies they had cut into pieces, near the skin they had flayed, or the heads they had severed. They were heartless, soulless butchers with no tolerance for disrespect or disloyalty.
And I had been one of them.
Dro was the first to speak, her voice a careful whisper. “She isn’t one of them anymore. We never had a choice.”
“What the hell did you do for them?” Max asked.
“And why didn’t you tell us?” Manny demanded right after.
I said nothing, suddenly finding my hands more interesting. I’d done terrible things for the Blood Thorns to keep us breathing. Things that still haunted me. I’d never be able to get rid of the memories, but ignoring them helped. Sometimes.
“She isn’t going to hurt either of you,” Dro insisted. “Constance did what she had to do to keep us safe. She always has.”
“Which was what?” Manny asked with a hint of bitterness.
“Hurt other people,” I answered grimly, setting the silence again. “Killed them if I had to.”
“Connie,” my sister pleaded.
“It’s too late, Dro,” I sighed. “They were going to find out sooner or later. They should know.”
I looked at the Garcias, knowing that as soon as they heard my story, they were going to throw us out of their house and call the Marshals, or the DEA, or both. But they had been kind to us, the first people to genuinely care for us since our parents. They deserved the truth.
“I started off as a falcon when I was fourteen,” I said. “I got information, brought it back. On one run, I was almost killed. I wanted to move up after that, become stronger. So I had them make me an enforcer. I became the person who went after the people who paid late, or didn’t pay at all. And I usually beat them within an inch of their lives.”
Max winced, but Manny’s face was unreadable. I was grateful for that. I had been a monster in my past, and I wasn’t proud of it. Even when it made me feel powerful.
“I didn’t tell you because I was looking out for my sister,” I admitted. “You never would have taken us in if you knew who I used to work for.”
“But you wouldn’t have told us at all if Max hadn’t found your tattoo,” Manny said, no question in his voice.
I wanted to lie, but… “No. I wouldn’t have.”
“We were running from the demons,” Dro tried to reason. “We thought we could lose ourselves in Mexico, but the Blood Thorns found us and Con…” She looked at me with a strange mix of pride and anxiety. “Con fought them off. She made a
deal with them.” She glanced at Manny and Max desperately. “It isn’t her fault. Please, please don’t call the police on her.”
Max might be weak for the despair in Dro’s voice, but Manny remained stony.
“How did you convince them?” Max asked. “They aren’t big on women in their merry murdering gang.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Dad was a falcon for them before we came here. He had enough of a reputation for me to be considered. I told them I would repay his debt, and then some. Which is what I did, and in half the time they thought I could.”
“Why did you leave them?” he asked. “I heard that no one leaves the Blood Thorns. At least, not alive.”
I looked up at Manny. “They betrayed us. They were going to give Dro to a witch. We had no other option but escape.”
He stared at me for a long time, and I stared back. I wasn’t intimidated by anyone. I couldn’t afford to be seen weak.
After a very, very, long time, Manny asked me another question.
“Do you regret the things you did?”
I flashed back to my past in Ciudad Juárez. Riding in the back of a dumpy truck with my scared little sister. Making the deal with Emilio. Getting the tattoo, a black thorn that looked like it was weaving in and out of my bleeding skin, when I passed initiation. The late night runs in dark alleys. Nearly being raped and beaten to death. Advancing up the ranks. Standing by while people were tortured and slaughtered in front of me. Pretending not to care. Kicking down doors. Making people scream. Using my fists to give a message. Cutting off fingers. Sliding my blade across a man’s throat. Being stronger than everyone else in the room.
“Every day,” I muttered. “Every day, I wish I could wipe the slate clean. But I can’t.”
“Because you don’t think you can be redeemed, or because you don’t want to be?”
I looked up at Manny again. “It’s too late to change the past, Manny. God won’t forgive me for what I’ve done. Even if I believed in Him, it wouldn’t matter. I could go to confession for the rest of my life, and it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference, because I don’t deserve it.”
Dro took my hand and gave it a hard squeeze. I was too ashamed to look at her. How she could still see me as a sister astounded me.
“God forgives anyone who asks for it,” Manny said quietly, “especially when someone means it with all of their soul. He forgave me.”
I raised an eyebrow. Max looked away, clasping his elbows and looking uncomfortable.
Manny took one of the chairs from the desk and sat down on it across from us. “I don’t suppose you ever wondered why I became an exorcist?”
If I was being perfectly honest, it had never crossed my mind at all. I knew better than most that some things in the past should stay there. You don’t want to dig up old ghosts if you’re running from personal demons. But he had a point to make, so I waited patiently.
Manny reached under the collar of his shirt, and I thought he was pulling out his rosary. Instead, he pulled out a gold wedding band on a simple chain.
“My wife, Marianna, was possessed when she was pregnant with Max. I was young back then. I didn’t know about demons. I didn’t understand the damage they could do. Marianna would have violent fits, breaking everything she could get her hands on, lashing out at me, hurting herself, trying to pry Max out of her stomach with her bare hands…”
I heard Dro’s steady intake of breath. My heart ached for Manny. Max was eighteen, and all this time Manny had been living with the pain of losing his wife, and probably almost losing his son, too. I remembered the deaths of my parents, and kept quiet.
“No one could understand what was wrong, and eventually I ran out of options. I called an exorcist. He told me that my wife had a demon inside her, and that it wanted to kill my wife and possess my son. He asked my permission to remove the demon, and I consented.” Manny looked at the ring around his neck. “Fate was erratic that day, because the same day the exorcism happened, was the same day Max was born.”
The grief in his eyes was unbelievable. It seemed stretch from his eyes to the very center of his soul, tearing through his heart on the way down. I don’t think I had ever seen such a broken-hearted man before.
“The doctor saved Max, and he was baptized almost immediately. The demon couldn’t get to him. But Marianna was bleeding too heavily. The demon was still trying to break out of her, and it was hours before it was gone. By that time, Marianna was dead.”
I couldn’t begin to express how sorry I felt for him. I looked over at Max. He had curled his arms around his knees like a lost kid. He looked guilty, like he thought his mother’s death was his fault, even though it was anything but. He relaxed a little when Dro reached out with her other hand to take his. I saw him squeeze it tightly, like he could draw strength from her. I hoped he would feel her kindness. It wouldn’t heal the wound, but she would take away as much pain as she could.
Her ice blue eyes and my dark brown ones fixed on Manny again.
“I learned about true evil that night. I could barely rejoice about the birth of my son because a demon had tortured my wife to death.”
His face was hard and solemn, but his eyes were still filled with a sorrow I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
“That night I cursed God. He took the woman I loved from me, made me fear for my son, showed me true monsters. But the exorcist said that it wasn’t the will of God or failure that killed Marianna. It was demons. Creatures who continued to take any helpless soul they wanted. If I wanted to channel my rage, it ought to be directed on the demons. So I followed exorcists, watched houses where victims of possession lived. Then I broke into those houses, and tried to beat out the demon trapped inside the human.”
I tried to imagine Manny as a younger, brokenhearted man, ruthlessly beating on a possessed victim to relieve the pain in his heart. The picture I had didn’t match that of the man in front of me, but I could also tell that Manny wasn’t lying.
“One of the people I attacked turned out to be a woman who looked like my Marianna. And then I thought about what I was destroying. How I couldn’t help her, and that Marianna would be ashamed that I was focusing on my anger, and not our son.”
Max remained silent beside me. I figured he was gripping Dro’s hand even tighter now.
Manny slipped his wedding ring back under his shirt. “After that, I repented and asked God for forgiveness. It was granted when I remembered He provided me with a strong, kind, healthy son.” He looked at Max, undying love crystal clear in his eyes. “He gave me a purpose, a way to help others when their need was dire.”
Manny looked at me. “I don’t blame you for any wrongs you’ve done to protect your sister. But I will not continue to help either of you if you revert to whatever old habits you might have taken from the Blood Thorns. I do not want them in my house where my son can be harmed.”
I said nothing, nodding my understanding. I didn’t bother with words. Manny was probably the most patient, understanding man I’d ever known. Even after everything he knew about me, he was still willing to help. There were no words to express my gratitude.
He got up from his chair and stood in front of me, putting his hand on my shoulder. The sadness hadn’t left his aged eyes yet, but his smile had returned.
“God will forgive anyone, Constance. But first you have to forgive yourself.”
I wasn’t sure what Manny was expecting from me. To have a breakdown? To throw myself into his arms and accept God into my life? To begin forgiving myself for everything I’d done?
Not a chance, Manny. It’s way too soon, and I have too many demons to kill.
I kept my dark eyes locked on his, wondering what I should say. I felt awful about what happened to his wife and how his life was nearly destroyed, but I also loosely admitted to not only being a murderer for one of the most dangerous criminal organizations on the planet. I had to know what Manny was going to do.
“Are,” I started, unable to fi
nd my voice at first. “Are you going to turn us in?” I asked, sounding more confident than I felt.
Manny sighed, and I kind of felt like a selfish bitch. He took his hand back. “Everyone makes mistakes, Constance. Some people just make worse ones than others. But do I have your word that you’ll be careful, and keep Max out of harm’s way?”
I could have lied. I lie to people all the time. It’s almost as natural as breathing. But Manny was one of the best people I had ever met. He deserved better than that.
“I won’t let any harm come to you or Max,” I said. “I can’t say the same for everyone hunting us if they find us, but if I hear they’re nearby, we’ll be gone. I’ll turn them away from you, and give them hell before they hurt you.”
The old man’s eyes darkened, weariness creeping in again. His smile was weak, but genuine.
“Thank you for your honesty, Constance. I believe we can make a righteous woman out of you yet.”
I stifled a laugh, not aware that I had one in me.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He nodded. “We’ll let you get some rest,” he said. “Come on, Max.”
The kid’s mood hadn’t improved. He stood up, Dro still holding his hand. She stood up with him and pulled him back to her, wrapping her arms around his neck. Max held her close, burying his face in her neck and shoulder. No amount of hugging could make Max feel better about the mother he had never known, but Dro was trying. At least he could go to sleep knowing that she cared.
Dro leaned back and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She held his face in her hand for a moment, smiling gently. Max watched her like he was in a trance, probably feeling all the kindness and understanding my sister had. No matter what, she would be there for him. She would listen, and tell him everything he needed to hear.
After a few more seconds, she stepped back and sat next to me. Max’s eyes lingered on my sister for a minute before he walked over to his father. Manny slung his arm over his son’s shoulder and led him out of the living room to give us some privacy. When they were gone, Dro looked at me sadly.