Darker Days

by Jus Accardo

  All around us, anger, rage, and violence bled into the air. Stifling and thick.

  Lukas crashed to the ground like a stone. Fists knotted in his hair, he was shaking, breath coming in shallow gasps as chaos exploded all around us. A sheen of sweat now covered his forehead, and every few seconds, he’d gasp, eyes rolling back into his head.

  I dropped to the sidewalk beside him. “Lukas. Lukas, look at me.”

  Nothing.

  I grabbed his shoulders and gave a small shake. There was no response. “Lukas, you have to control it.”

  A man stormed past us and threw a metal garbage pail through the front window of Karson’s Pawn Shoppe. “I won’t pay these prices. It’s a rip off!” Behind me, glass shattered. I closed my eyes as bits and pieces rained across my back and over my head.

  Lukas was unfazed. He continued to stare ahead, looking right through me. I had to do something. Fast. In the distance, an echoing bang split the air. The sound bounced off the buildings around us and made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. A gunshot? Another car wreck? Someone was going to get hurt—or worse—killed. I had no idea how far this would spread. Or how fast.

  I shook him again. Nothing. Drastic. It needed to be drastic. I could hit him, but that’d probably piss him off even more. The last thing I needed was to get my ass handed to me by an angry Sin.

  So I did the only other thing I could think of.

  Throwing myself forward, I grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him toward me. At first, nothing happened. I sat there, balanced awkwardly on my knees with my lips pressed against his. It was warm. Soft. Not unpleasant, really—just weird. After a moment, his lips parted and I froze. He sucked in a breath and reached out to cup my face on either side. His fingers curled around chunks of my long hair, and for a second—just a second—I was terrified. Butterflies-in-the-stomach, freefalling into chaos kind of terrified. Not because I thought he was going to hurt me, but because I thought he was going to kiss me back.

  But he didn’t.

  Slowly, he pulled away, mouth hanging open wide enough to remind me of clown face on the fourth hole of the Penance miniature golf course. I never could get the ball into that hole… Bringing his right hand up, he ran a finger along his bottom lip, never taking his eyes from mine. A chill replaced the space he’d vacated. A surprisingly unwelcome one.

  Disappointed. I was actually disappointed.

  Around us, the sounds of arguing began to taper off. Sirens blared in the distance and a fire truck flew past, the breeze from it sending my loose hair flailing in all directions. Things seemed to be cooling down.

  “What were you thinking?” When I didn’t answer, he kept going. “Are you crazy? Why would you do that?”

  Wonder what he’d think if I told him he’d just sort of been my first kiss? Heat rose in my cheeks, and I tamped down a burning feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wouldn’t let him see his indifference bothered me. “It was the only thing I could think of. I needed you to snap out of it.”

  “And you thought that was the best way to do it?”

  I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I simply shrugged.

  He climbed to his feet. “I lost control—I’m sorry.”

  Control? I’d had my face smushed up against his, and he hadn’t taken advantage of it. That was control-a-plenty in my book. Or maybe I’d done something wrong. I wasn’t unkissable, right? I mean, I lacked skill—obviously—but…

  He looked around, taking in the disaster. Guilt. It was evident in every twitch of his lip and flinch.

  Oops. He was apologizing for the violence, not our almost-lip lock. “It wasn’t that bad,” I lied. Truth was, it’d been terrifying. Like the apocalypse had blown into town and smacked everyone upside the head. And I was worried about kissing? Brain meltdown, Jessie!

  “I need to get out of here.” He didn’t wait for me to get up before starting back the way we’d come.

  I didn’t argue.

  Chapter Eight

  It was almost four when we got back to the office. Lukas had settled on the old couch in the waiting area—the one Mom said Grandpa always hated. I could understand his dislike of the thing—and I’d never even met the guy. It looked like cheesy yellow and brown flower-infested curtains had thrown up all over it. To make things worse, the mustard yellow carpet matched the flowers perfectly and reminded me of a bad seventies movie. Most of the pictures on the wall—badly painted scenes of people dressed like pimps—had given me nightmares as a child. The place was a shrine to the days of platform shoes and fringe. I’d been pushing Mom to update the place, but as she pointed out, we were broke.

  “You sure you’re okay?” I’d asked at least twelve times since we’d walked through the door. Pale and shaky, at least he didn’t look ready to collapse anymore. His eyes had returned to their normal color and he’d relaxed. For the most part. Every now and then I’d catch him watching me with an odd expression.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You want something to eat? Some water maybe?”

  “Water would be nice, thank you.”

  A quick dash to the kitchen. When I returned, I set down a glass and settled across from him on the chair. It took a lot to make me feel guilty. Hold your nose, jump in feet first, and think about it later—that was my mantra. When your mom owned an agency that dealt in the creepies, you kind of had to think that way. If I did something rash, it was because it needed to be done. No apologies. Not from me. This time, though, I’d acted stupid. Made a bad choice without thinking through the consequences. Lukas and all those people on the street in The Pit had paid the price because I felt like I had something to prove. “I’m sorry.”

  He sipped the water and set it down on the coffee table. “Sorry?”

  “That whole thing back there—it was my fault. We could have gone around. I was trying to get the jump on snagging the others.”

  “Oh. Yes, it was.”

  I held back a smile. Lukas didn’t sugarcoat things. You never had to wonder what he was thinking. It was a nice change from, well, pretty much everyone else. “I didn’t know what would happen.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, you seemed to hold it together at school, so I thought…”

  He leaned back. “You had no way of knowing my limits.”

  “So I did the only thing I could think of.”

  “You tried to kiss me.”

  Tried? Suddenly my cheeks were flaming for an entirely different reason. “Yeah. Well, I know I lack the experience of someone your age—what are you, like four hundred?”

  I could see he was fighting a smile, and it made me want to smack him. This wasn’t funny. “Not quite, no.” His face flushed slightly. “And the kiss was…nice.”

  Huh. Didn’t see that coming. My mouth dried out and the breath caught in my throat. It was like someone had sucked all the air from the room—then cranked the heat sky high. My heart started dancing crazy. Like one of Kendra’s crazy speed metal bands.

  I cleared my throat. “I think for it to have been considered an actual kiss, there had to be lip movement.” And maybe some tongue—I wasn’t sure. I’d never had a real boyfriend. There was Tommy Jensen in the first grade, but shin kicking followed by a sloppy gum-infested peck on the check didn’t exactly define going steady.

  Then it hit me. Suddenly, the warm temperature took on a distinct chill. OhmyGod. Had I actually said that out loud? Where was a large rock to hide under when you really needed it?

  “That’s not true,” he insisted, leaning forward a few inches. His voice was low and deep. It sent tiny tremors tickling up and down my spine, making my already thundering heart beat just a bit faster.

  I found myself leaning forward as well, drawn almost like a magnet to the sound of his voice. Every impulse I had was screaming for me to move away—look away—but there was something about him that held me there…something so enticing in his eyes. They were dangerous and addictive.

  We were le
ss than six inches apart now, breath mingling. “At the risk of sounding inappropriate, I’d really like to do it again,” he murmured.

  The only sound I could hear was the hammering of my heart. Oh.My.God. He was going to kiss me? For real this time? Excitement erupted, sending a million tiny shockwaves through my body. “You—um—wow, I—”

  He pulled back and folded his hands neatly in his lap. “But I was raised a gentleman, so don’t worry.”

  All the air whooshed out of the room like someone had just jammed a pin in a Jessie-sized balloon. I’d never been bummed about the office not having AC. Right about now, though, I needed to cool down—and distract my mind from this madness. “So…um, what exactly happened? I mean, I know you lost control, but why? What was different from school?”

  He took another sip of water. When finished, he set the glass down and started again. “That place was full of black. Rage and death. There was so much of it…”

  It made sense, and really, it was stupid that I hadn’t figured it out earlier. The Pit was where most of our calls came from—both human and Otherworlder. We’d stumbled onto entire bars that catered to freaky demon fetishes. Naturally, things got out of hand on occasion. People went missing. Things were stolen. It was a total cash cow from a business perspective, but for someone like Lukas, it must have been hell.

  “What’s it like? When you lose control. It almost looked like you were in—”

  “Pain?”

  I nodded. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

  “You and your questions. Your grandfather was like that. It must be a family trait.” He leaned back again and glanced up toward the ceiling. “Yes, it does hurt. I’m fighting to keep control—I’m always fighting… Random anger here and there is hard, but manageable. But earlier, in that place, I was surrounded by so much of it. It senses the nearness of the very thing it feeds on and struggles for control.”

  “It?”

  “Wrath.”

  “How—how painful is it?”

  He stared at me, and I found the whole roller coaster starting all over again. Butterflies in the stomach, heated cheeks, heart jumping like a thrasher in a mosh pit…

  I’d been boyfriendless for a reason. I didn’t want to get involved with anyone. I’d seen what it did to people—falling in love—and I wanted no part of it. Yet here I was, getting all hot under the collar for some guy. And not just any guy. One of the Seven Deadly Sins.

  Irony, thy name is Jessie.

  Mom would probably say it was hormones and walk away beaming with pride. She’d been pushing me to take an interest in something—someone—other than the agency. Somehow, though, I was pretty sure this wasn’t what she meant.

  “It’s like being ripped apart—over and over again. Like being set on fire, dipped in ice, and then lit up again.”

  “Jesus.” That cooled the mood quick. I was almost sorry I’d asked.

  “The harder I fight, the worse it hurts when I finally lose control—which will happen more and more as time goes on. From the moment we’re released, the box is calling us back. It’s faint at first. A whisper in the crowd. But as our time runs out, the call becomes stronger and more painful, making the Sin more frantic to feed.”

  “I’ll make sure Mom keeps her deal with you.” The passion in my voice surprised me. Mom was the good guy. The selfless one. I wasn’t the bad one, per se, but I didn’t inherit her patience with humanity. Nine times out of ten, if a person had an issue, it was my opinion that they brought it on themselves. Human and Otherworlder. Lukas was different, though. It wasn’t pity that I was feeling—I didn’t believe in that. It wasn’t even that he was incredibly hot—though that might have helped…a little.

  I got the feeling he’d been royally screwed for no good reason, and that pissed me off. “We’ll help you become human again.” I took his hand and squeezed. To my surprise, he didn’t pull away. “We’ll fix this.”

  He’d never expected us to honor our part of the deal—I could tell by the look on his face. A mix of shock and relief. “And who will we transfer the sin to? What innocent person do we punish for my misfortune?”

  “Like Mom agreed. We’ll go with the original plan from 1959. We’ll find the bastard who opened the box and give him a taste of hell.”

  Lukas looked down at my hand on his and opened his mouth, but the buzzing of the office phone interrupted him.

  I stretched across the couch and grabbed the cordless, almost taking out the lamp in the process. “Darker Agency.”

  “Jessie, I’m on my way home,” Mom’s voice crackled on the other end. Stupid cell reception sucked in this area. The town had been fighting against getting an additional tower installed. Some crap about it being an eyesore.

  “Perfect. Pick up a pizza or—”

  “Jessie, listen to me carefully. I found the person the Sins are looking for. The one who opened the box.” On the other end, I heard Mom talking to someone. “Take the phone,” she said.

  There was some shuffling and a slight pause. The person on the other end sucked in a deep breath. “Hello, Jessie.”

  Two words. That’s all it took to tear my world down. And not so much the words as the voice behind them.

  “…Dad?”

  Chapter Nine

  Ten minutes later, they breezed through the door casual as could be. Mom first, followed by a face I hadn’t seen in almost five years.

  Still impossibly tall with dark, wavy hair, he stopped in the doorway and stared. New additions to his look included a closely clipped goatee, a silver earring, and a new tattoo snaking down his arm and around his right wrist. He hadn’t aged a day since I’d seen him last. It might have been due to the fact that I’d built him up in my memory. Constantly looking at old pictures to keep his face fresh in my mind.

  Or it might have been the demon blood running through his veins.

  I’d heard the story a thousand times. How my very human mom fell in love with my deadly demonic dad. They met when Mom was just sixteen. She was working with Grandpa at the agency, and the way she tells it, Dad sauntered in looking for help retrieving a powerful amulet. According to Mom, the sparks were instant. There was more to it than that, but I’d blocked it out. Mom and Dad smoochies were not a thought I cared to entertain.

  Grandpa, of course, didn’t approve, but who could blame him? What father would want his daughter to hook up with one of the very things he’d spent his life battling? In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Mom was like me. Stubborn to the core. She loved my dad—demon or not—and refused to give him up.

  I crossed the room and threw myself into his arms. He smelled the same way I remembered. Slightly spicy with the tiniest hint of sulfur.

  “I’m sorry, Jessie.”

  “It’s true? You’re the one who opened the box?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said again, pushing me away. His eyes found Lukas, and the tone of his voice changed instantly. It was deeper and darker. Demonic. “Wrath.”

  Lukas’ eyes widened, and he took an unsteady step back. “Please—for everyone’s sake, don’t come any closer. It’s very hard for me to control my anger and you—”

  “Make it harder?”

  “Yes.”

  Dad advanced a few steps wearing a wicked smile. “I’m a demon. We do that.”

  Shadow demons, like my dad, had strength and speed, but their big claim to fame was shadowing. It was their trademark move and made them excellent employees for higher ranking demons, put to work as assassins and thieves. They had the ability to blend in—to become one with the shadows—and travel between them. Virtually undetectable, my dad could take you out before you even knew he was there. I’d slept with my lights on for an entire year when I was six because of a story Dad told me detailing a job he’d done once. That had been the last time Mom let him pop in to put me to sleep.

  “Stop.” I grabbed Dad’s arm and pulled back. It was like trying to move a mountain, well, up a mountain.

  “There is a Sin in the ro
om with my family.” His voice was calm, but I knew better. I hadn’t spent much time with my dad, but I knew that tone. I’d heard it a thousand times from a thousand different demons. Threatening. Dangerous. It was the last sound you heard just before your world went splat.

  “There’s a Sin in the room because you opened the box,” I said calmly. Hah. Take that, logic.

  He turned to me, expression softening. “I didn’t open the box on purpose.”

  “So what happened exactly?”

  “We got word it was stolen and about to change hands. Valefar, my boss, sent me to stop the trade. There was a woman—I didn’t see her face. I chased her for the box, easily overpowering her. Too easily.”

  “Too easily?” Mom came up beside him and rested a hand against his shoulder.

  Dad nodded. “She all but surrendered the box—and then she tripped me.”

  “She tripped you? As far as attack methods go, that one is a little middle school if you ask me.”

  Understanding creased Mom’s features. “She wanted you to open the box.”

  Again, Dad nodded. “I believe so. I tried to stop it from opening, but it was too late.”

  “Why would you want to stop the box from being opened?” Lukas asked. He was watching Dad from across the room with a mixture of fear and awe. “You’re an instrument of Satan. Bred to spread evil.”

  We stared at him.

  Dad scoffed, offended. Arms folded and nose turned up, he said, “Ignorant human. You are a perfect example of why your species is inferior.”

  Mom cleared her throat, and Dad amended with a wink, “Most of the species.”

  Lukas looked confused. I patted him on the shoulder and shook my head. His view might be a little archaic, but it really wasn’t any different from the rest of the world’s. “The whole heaven-hell-angel-demon thing? So not what you think. I’ll explain later.”

  “I’m not sure I want to know,” Lukas said, sinking back onto the couch. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. The poor guy was having a rough few days. “They’ll be looking for you. They need you to keep their freedom. There’s nothing they won’t do to break their tie to the box.”