Darker Days tda-1

by Jus Accardo

  Dad didn’t look convinced. “But you need someone to transfer the sin to. Is that correct?”

  And this is where the problem was. Assuming we could find a Wells witch, we were now short one bad guy. “What about another demon? We bust bad ones all the time. Could we just—I dunno—pick a bad one and transfer the sin to them? Problem solved.”

  Mom rolled her eyes, and Dad actually looked annoyed. He fixed his gaze on me, and in that moment, I was almost glad he’d been absent during my early years. The parental stare of death would have been hell coming from him. “Even if it were possible—which it’s not—I wouldn’t condemn one of my kind to that.”

  Oops. No wonder Dad was mad. All demons came from the Shadow Realm and most were, in some small way, related. Technically, when we sent a demon back, there was a good chance we were deporting a relative of his—and mine. A distant relative, but still. We shared some small amount of blood.

  “What do you mean, if it were even possible?” Mom asked.

  I couldn’t help staring at them—my parents. Mom in the chair, and Dad standing beside her; they looked like the perfect couple. So normal… It was hard sometimes for me to remember they weren’t normal. Mom being human and Dad, well, not. Demons could look normal when it suited them, but you could spot them if you knew what to look for.

  From the time I could talk, Mom taught me how to pick them out in a crowd. There was always a slight difference in eye color—usually too bright or too dark. Height was another indicator. Demons tended to be a bit taller than normal humans and had long, unusually slender fingers.

  But the real way to sniff out a demon—the foolproof way, as Mom would say—was to pay attention to mannerisms. The devil really was in the details. Contrary to TV and movies, I’d never come across a volatile demon. They really didn’t go around wreaking random havoc—not unless it suited their plans. Demons were actually a pretty mellow bunch. Always observing. Waiting for their in. They didn’t talk much and never blinked—if a demon was looking at you, you knew it.

  “The Seven Deadly Sins are the core demons. Ancient and powerful. You can’t transfer one demon essence to another. It won’t work.”

  Hell. That meant the original plan was out. We couldn’t just grab an innocent person off the streets. And if demons were immune, we were going to have to find an alternative. Fast. Today had obviously been a waste. Sure, Mom found the person who opened the box, but I didn’t see her toting any Sins along when she and Dad came through the door.

  I glanced over at the clock on Mom’s desk. After five already. That pretty much only left three full days and change to find six Sins and hopefully track down a Wells descendant.

  Lukas stood. He was trying to be discreet, but I could see him glaring at Dad out of the corner of his eye. Dad, in turn, hadn’t taken his eye off Lukas. “I think I’d like to get some air, if you don’t mind.”

  Mom must have noticed the tension between them, too. Always eager to diffuse a bad situation before it got started, she waved toward the back door and said, “Of course. If we need you, we’ll call.”

  As soon as he was through the door, I turned to Mom. “Okay. Options?”

  She shook her head. “Realistically? I don’t know that there are any.”

  I stared. “So you’re giving up? Miss, I’m a woman of my word even if it kills me? You promised him you’d help.”

  She turned to Dad. A look passed between them and I’ll admit it, I was a little jealous. Not only of her time spent with him before I was born—which was crazy, of course—but of the fact that she had someone who so clearly understood her as well as I did. “I know—and I shouldn’t have. Even if it hadn’t been your father, I don’t know if I could have condemned someone else to Lukas’ fate.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “But you said—”

  “What was I supposed to say, Jessie? We’re talking about the Seven Deadly Sins. We need Lukas’ help to track them.”

  “So you lied? Figured you’d use him to get what you want with no intention of keeping your word?” I was going to be sick. This was something I’d do. Not her. She was perfect. Noble. She’d never screw someone over like this…

  “Jessie…”

  She was upset.

  Good. So was I.

  “It’s not that I have no intention of helping him—I just thought maybe we could find another way. It doesn’t look good, but I’m not giving up. There’s still time. I’ll still search for the witch, but finding the Sins has to take precedence now.”

  “Time? How can there be time to search for the witch if you won’t let me help?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. Sighing, she said, “I have your father’s help, now. And maybe there’s a way to break Lukas’ tether from the box. Keep him out while putting the others back inside.”

  “With Wrath still inside him?” I said skeptically. I knew she didn’t believe it, and it pissed me off that she’d try to pass off such a blatant lie. To me of all people. Like I couldn’t see through it? Her words might as well have been made of plastic wrap. Just as clear and twice as flimsy. For the first time I could ever remember, I was ashamed of my mom.

  “Other witches, Voodoo priests, an elemental mage—we’re not out of options yet. Let me talk to Kendra’s mother. She might have an idea. They’re long shots—very long shots, but I won’t give up so long as you promise to tread lightly with him.”

  I balked. This just kept getting better and better. “Tread lightly? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She glanced at Dad again. God, I wished she’d stop that. “You just seem—”

  I grabbed my purple hoodie from the couch, pulled it over my head, and made my way to the door. I was not giving her a chance to finish that thought. It was pure insanity. “Whatever. He’s just a client. I’m trying to do what’s right, here. Apparently, I’m the only one.”

  Chapter Ten

  I found Lukas standing in the fading light on the back deck. “How ya doing?”

  Without turning, he shrugged. I didn’t have to ask. I knew he’d heard every word.

  “Listen—”

  He turned to face me, lips weighted down at the corners. “You don’t have to explain. I already knew.”

  “You knew? Then why did you agree to help?”

  He shrugged again and turned back to the yard. The crickets were out in force, joined by the distant cry of a hawk. After a few minutes of silence, he said, “July fifteenth, 1864.”

  “Huh?”

  “My birthday.”

  “Wow. You’re an old man,” I joked, but it fell flat.

  “Technically, I’m only eighteen. I was trapped in the box in 1882. I don’t age inside.”

  I stepped forward and leaned against the railing beside him as the wind kicked up. “You knew Meredith Wells, didn’t you?” It was a risky question considering how he’d reacted earlier, but I wanted to know. Needed to know. “Like, personally?”

  He fiddled with a loose piece of wood that had splintered from the railing. Pulling it off, he turned it over several times before flicking it out into the grass below. “Meredith was beautiful. Long, dark hair, eyes the color of the ocean, and a smile that could chase away the rain.”

  “Sounds like a swell chick.”

  He nodded, picking at another piece of loose wood. “She was amazing. And she was mine—at least, I thought so.”

  I stared. “Yours? What, like, your girlfriend?” And Mom wondered why I didn’t date?

  “Fiancé, actually.” He swung both legs over the side of the railing and settled on the edge. “We were to be married the spring following my eighteenth birthday.”

  I followed suit, letting my legs dangle next to his. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how much taller he was than me. He had to have at least eight inches on my five-foot three. It was ridiculous timing, but I was tall enough that if I leaned against him, my head would rest perfectly on his shoulder. “And she was a witch?”

&n
bsp; With an umpf, Lukas pushed off the railing and landed on the grass below. “A very talented one. Her family was wealthy. Very prominent in Penance. There were whispers about what she was, but no one believed them. A Wells woman would never toy with such things,” he said in a mocking tone. “Fools. Every last one of them.”

  I followed him down, feet landing with a slight squish in the soft October grass.

  “One evening, I caught her with another man. A local farmer’s son. I was more angry than hurt, really. Her actions chanced ruining a merger that would put both our families in favorable situations. It was selfish, but then, Meredith was a selfish woman. I begged her to see reason—to turn him away. I told her I would treat her like a queen…but it wasn’t enough.”

  Lukas tilted his head back, watching the sky for a moment. Fine by me. This presented the opportunity to give him a nice, long, appreciative once over. That Meredith girl must have been nuts. I didn’t know what the standards for hot were in 1882, but in 2013, Lukas was serious real estate. Long, angular face and a generous mop of dark hair. His nose was just slightly off center—he must have broken it at one point—but it completed him so perfectly. It gave the lines of his face character. It fit.

  “She chose him over you?”

  “She did. But it wasn’t that simple. As I said, our union would have put our families in a favorable place. The marriage was arranged as a merger of wealth and status. Our parents had gone to great lengths to secure the union. I knew if her father found out what she’d done, he’d disown her. That wasn’t something Meredith could have handled. She liked her life of privilege. Her elegant parties and fancy dresses. Being waited on hand and foot. She’d never lifted a finger in her life.”

  “So you threatened her.”

  He nodded, tearing his gaze from the darkening sky, and started to walk. “I thought it would make her see reason, but she didn’t take it very well. Maybe her emotions were heightened by him, I don’t know.”

  “Him? Wait—you mean she was shacking up with the original Wrath? That’s the guy you found her with?”

  His expression twisted in pure disgust. “Yes. The farmer’s son was the one infected by Wrath. She’d seen him a thousand times, but he was beneath her notice. Lowly.” A bitter laugh escaped his lips and his fists curled tight. “I can only guess that when they crossed paths, after he’d been infected by Wrath, she saw something in him. Something different—and powerful. Meredith’s reasons for doing anything were always her own, but she craved power above all else. Maybe she thought she could get something from him. Or possibly, she saw him as an amusing distraction. Whatever the reason, it sickens me to think about it. At least, even now, I am still human at my core. He though, he was never human. He was a thing. A soulless demon.”

  Even though I was sure he didn’t realize it, his words stung like salt crammed into an open wound. Voice remarkably steady, I said, “Not all demons are disgusting. They’re not things. My father’s a demon. I’m—I’m half demon, and I’m not a thing.”

  He flinched like I’d slapped him. As I’d suspected, he’d been clueless, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Whatever,” I said, trying to sound casual. I wouldn’t let him see his less than stellar opinion of demons bothered me. “So then what happened?”

  He hesitated, almost as if to make sure I really wanted him to continue. “I don’t know the whole story. She’s long dead, and I will never know the truth behind her motivations. All that is certain is that she devised a way to set Wrath free—to essentially make him human—all she needed was someplace to store his essence.”

  “So she damned you to an eternity inside the box? No offense, but your taste in girls sucks.”

  “I didn’t choose her. She was chosen for me.”

  He didn’t sound happy about it. Understandable. I mean, who would be, right? Getting told who you had to look at for the rest of your life? Who you had to kiss? Barbaric if you asked me—especially when your betrothed was a big fat ho.

  “So who would you have chosen? What’s your type?” I started wondering again what it’d be like to kiss him. Actually kiss him. For real. Considering his aversion to demons, I’d probably never find out.

  “Type?”

  I rolled my eyes. I had to keep reminding myself we had a bit of a language barrier sometimes. “What kind of girl were you interested in?”

  He thought about it for a few moments. “I don’t know that I had a type. I could have had anyone I wanted, really.” Expression darkening, he finished with, “If I’d been allowed to choose.”

  “Wow. Cocky much?”

  He frowned. “It was just fact. I inherited my father’s looks and stood to one day inherit his fortune. It made me desirable. And really, the girls were all the same back then. Demure and obedient.”

  I stopped and plucked a leaf off a low hanging branch. Twirling it between my fingers, I said, “So you’re saying they were all snoozeville?”

  He cocked an eyebrow and my pulse spiked. Oh, yeah. Meredith was an idiot. Whoever coined the phrase ugly as sin had never set eyes on Lukas Scott.

  “Boring,” I supplied, after a deep, brain-clearing breath. “Dull.”

  “Ah. I suppose dull is an adequate description. Things are very different now. Free. Women seem to stand equally against men.”

  “Careful—normally this is a chick-only household. Estrogen is combustible under the right circumstances. And yeah, men and women are equal.”

  “But to allow women to have such freedoms—is it safe? I must admit, the thought of Klaire—or you—doing the things Joseph Darker told me of…”

  Good thing it was dark. He probably didn’t see me getting ready to deck him. How was that possible? To go from kissy thoughts to kick-your-ass thoughts in a matter of seconds? I’d never met anyone who could make my head spin on a dime like this before. I loved it and hated it at the same time. “What? Makes you sick? Gives you the creeps?”

  “Worries me.”

  “Huh?”

  “Do the men in this century not look after their women? To allow them to participate in such dangerous things—”

  “Whoa. First off, something you’re gonna need to know if you have any hope of not getting creamed in public—women can take care of themselves. We can ass kick with the best of them.” I winked. “In some cases, even better.”

  I glanced back toward the house. It was nothing more than a fading silhouette barely visible through the brush. God, had we really gone that far? It felt like we’d just started walking.

  It was Lukas. He was easy to talk to. To just be with. He made my brain itch with his backwards thinking and stone-aged comments sometimes, but underneath it all, he had a sense of humor and a kind heart. Not to mention a pair of arms I could see myself dreaming about.

  I was about to suggest we start heading back, but Lukas’ eyes widened suddenly and he rushed forward. Whatever caught his attention, I was happy for it. My brain was venturing into places it shouldn’t go.

  He stopped at the edge of the old railroad tracks that went through the back end of our property. Bending low, he brushed the tips of his fingers along the rusting metal and let out a long sigh. “Are these—I was just a child when these tracks were laid,” he whispered. “Everyone was so excited…”

  I couldn’t imagine how displaced he must feel. If it were me, back in the same town I’d grown up in—over a century ago—I was pretty sure there’d be some freaking out. “This has gotta be weird for you.”

  He stood and brushed off his jeans, giving the tracks one final look. “Did you know our families were friends? The Scotts and the Darkers?”

  “Really?”

  “Simon Darker—an ancestor of yours—was very close with my mother.” He laughed. “I do believe I was the one who set the Darker family on its current professional course.”

  Ahha! Now we were getting to the good stuff. I leaned against the pine tree behind me. “How so?”

 
; “When I was freed the first time in 1910, it was Simon I sought help from.”

  “You’re saying the box was opened before the riots?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Just once, and the rest weren’t out long.”

  “So, why Simon?”

  “I couldn’t go to my mother. She was a devout Catholic and I’d been gone twenty-eight years without aging a day. It would have caused her great stress to see me, and she was very ill. I knew Simon had always been secretly fascinated by the occult. He was my only choice.”

  “So you went to Simon and said what? ‘I’ve been trapped in a box all this time—help a guy out?’”

  He snorted. “Obviously it wasn’t that simple. At first, it was quite hard to convince him I wasn’t a dem—”

  I glared at him.

  “Evil,” he finished awkwardly. “But once I did, he was more than eager to help. He always believed that Meredith had something to do with my disappearance, but could never prove it because she disappeared shortly after.”

  “So what happened? I mean, you mentioned Meredith’s descendant screwing you over in 1959. The same thing couldn’t have happened in 1910?”

  He took a deep breath. “It did. Simon found a member of the Wells family and explained what her ancestor had done. The woman—Margret was her name—was ashamed and vowed to right the injustice. She told him she knew of a spell that could grant me my freedom. The time came and things were going fine, but in the middle of the spell she stopped.”

  “Stopped?”

  “She was speaking—then silent. I saw the others called back to the box and everything went black.” He thrust both hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged. “I don’t know what happened. Not with the spell. Not with Simon…”

  “Where were the other Sins while you were working with Simon? They didn’t want out of the box for good?”

  “They didn’t find out about the spell to gain their freedom until 1959. Technology was more advanced. I was able to get to Joseph Darker faster than I had Simon. We had more time to search for a Wells witch, and I suppose they became suspicious. They found out about the spell and what we were doing, but it didn’t matter. Mary Wells never intended to free me.” He sighed. “You asked me why I agreed to help—even though I knew Klaire had no intention of freeing me.”