Lost Girl: Hidden Book One

by Vanderlinden, Colleen

  We stepped off the stairway to see the entire team getting ready. Stone shrugged on his leather jacket, his own version of armor. Veronica gave me a wave, went back to the meditation she did before these missions, eyes closed, lips moving in some type of silent mantra. George paced. Nain stood at the windows, looking out. To say that everyone was tense didn’t do it justice. This was a group of pissed off, exhausted people. Volatile. The power and emotions swirling in the room made me nauseous.

  I was re-braiding my hair, mostly for something to do. Nain turned, glanced at me, then looked away. “Okay, people,” he said. “This will hopefully be the last time we fight this fucker.” A small cheer went up from the team, glances thrown my way, and I tried to look confident.

  “We’re going to go in like we always do. Do what you do, as if nothing is different. We need to distract him so Molly can work at him,” he continued.

  “Won’t he feel her?” George asked, looking at me, as always, like I was some kind of venomous snake. I was tempted to hiss at him.

  “He will. It’s impossible not to feel her nearby,” Brennan said.

  Nain nodded. “Which is why we have to do a good job trying to distract him. We do our job right, he won’t know she’s nearby until it’s too late.”

  Ada was standing next to me. She reached over and gently took my hand, gave it a squeeze. I gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand in return.

  “The most important thing is that we give Molly what she needs,” Nain said, glancing at me again. “How much time will you need?”

  I shrugged. “No idea. I’ve never tried this on anyone with power before.”

  “We’re so screwed,” George groaned. Veronica glared at him and Stone smacked him in the back of the head.

  “Shut up, son,” Stone muttered.

  “If she can’t manage it, we’ll fight, just like we always do,” Nain said. He looked at me again. “But I don’t think it’s going to go down that way.”

  Stone pulled on his leather gloves. “Let’s do this, then.”

  We squished into Nain’s truck. Me between Nain and Brennan in the front seat, Ada, George, and Veronica in the extended cab. Stone followed us on his Harley.

  The tension in the truck was insane. Nain and Brennan talked to each other a little on the way, mostly about where to hit them, where to position the team. The more I was with the team, the more I saw the inner dynamics. Nain was clearly the leader. Brennan was his second in command, the one the team members seemed to feel most comfortable dealing with directly. Which was fine with Nain, who generally didn’t say much to anyone unless he was giving orders. Ada and Stone were next in the chain of command, with George and Veronica at the bottom of the totem pole.

  Me? I wasn’t part of the team. No pecking order for me, thanks.

  We got to the neighborhood where Ada’s informant had reported the pyro, and I could smell the smoke. The sky was orange.

  “Molls. We’re going to face him. Find a good spot and do your thing,” Nain said as he put the truck in park.

  “You’re having her go alone?” Brennan asked.

  Nain snorted. “Anyone dumb enough to fuck with her is going to regret it the second she starts putting the hurt on, trust me.”

  Irritation from Brennan.

  Nain continued. “We’ll keep him busy.” He met my eyes. His voice in my mind. You can do this. You’re a demon. This guy is nothing compared to you.

  I nodded.

  No fear.

  I nodded again.

  “Man, I hate it when you two do the creepy telepath thing,” George muttered. Brennan laughed, and everyone opened their doors. We took off in different directions to do our thing.

  I ran around, heading for the streets beyond where the pyro was. There weren’t as many vacant homes in this area, not like in other parts of the city. I crept through back yards. I could hear the screams, smell the smoke, from where the pyro was. I ended up climbing into some kid’s old tree house, the wood slightly rotten from years out in the Michigan weather. I could see the chaos.

  A tall man stood at the center. Ebony skin, wearing a summery white shirt and khakis, leather sandals on his feet. He looked like someone ready for a walk on the beach. But he raised his hands, and a nearby garage exploded in a ball of flame. More screams.

  Nain and the crew were doing what they could. Nain and Brennan (in his panther form) charged him. His goons kept them busy. Ada was focused on keeping a protective mist over the area. Normals would not see most of what was happening — how the hell would we ever explain it? Veronica and Stone fought some of the other goons, and George was slipping into the shadows, trying to sneak up on the pyro. They were keeping the focus well away from me.

  I focused on the pyro. Emptied my mind of anything but him. I started poking at his mind, the way Nain did to me when we were training.

  It wasn’t even hard to find a way in. This was a seriously messed up individual.

  I traveled the pathways of his mind. I could sense his rage, his sense of superiority. His lust for destruction. Guy would have made a spectacular demon.

  He felt me. I knew it the second he did. Panic. An immediate attempt to shut his mind, but I was already there, and, new as I was at this, I was stronger than he was.

  “Who is doing that?” he screeched into the night, looking around, swiveling from one direction to another. I continued working at his mind. I could feel, practically see, very clearly, where his power was. I tried reasoning with him first.

  “You hate fire. Fire is your enemy. You fear it. You will surrender now. It will be done,” I said in his mind.

  Confusion. And then he laughed, and threw a fireball at Nain and Brennan. They both dove out of the way in time, but he shot another one.

  I gave up reasoning. I saw his power, tried to disconnect it from him, tried to choke it off. He screeched, laughed, slapped at his head as if I was an annoying mosquito or something.

  And he threw more fire. I heard Stone roar in pain, saw Veronica get thrown at least twenty feet by the blast of a fireball hitting a nearby house. Kids were crying.

  My heart was pounding. I could feel panic creeping in. What if I couldn’t do it?

  I kept working at figuring out how to cut him off from his power. I tried distracting him, commanding him. He was insane, and nothing was working. The more scared he got, the more fire he threw. Garages, homes, sheds were going up in flames, more and more the longer I messed around. He’d stopped focusing on the team, in full panic mode now, and in his panic, more destruction.

  I was starting to get desperate. I jumped down out of the tree house, walked toward where he was. He turned and saw me. Exactly what I wanted.

  He watched me, and I felt fear, anger course through him. He readied a fireball.

  And I focused. I couldn’t cut him off from his power. I couldn’t reason with crazy. I acted on pure instinct.

  I focused on his power. It was there, bright and throbbing in his mind. And I hungered for it. I wanted it. I had already invaded his mind, seen his memories, lived his life alongside him. Now, my attention was focused on that warm, perfect, nourishing power.

  It should not have been possible to do what I did next.

  I devoured it. I ripped his power from his psyche without any mercy, without any gentleness. It was mine. This was not mere destruction. This was destroying, then pillaging, his strength being absorbed into my body.

  Oh, it was good.

  His screams sent shivers up my spine, and his power filled me. I kept walking toward him. He looked at me one last time, and fell over, nothing but an empty skin.

  The night was deadly silent. And then all of his people went crazy, started fighting our people. They were terrified. A few started to come toward me, and Nain crashed into them, flattening them, then going to work with his fists. Within seconds, they were still. Knocked out. Without their leader, they didn’t pose much of a threat anymore.

  Some of the pyro’s people had Stone corner
ed. He was hurt badly. They were doing that pack thing, going after the weakest one.

  “Hey, assholes,” I said, and my voice thundered through the neighborhood. I could sense the team watching me. The pyro’s people turned to look at me, too. I could feel their fear, and it filled me.

  I smiled.

  And snapped my fingers.

  And a fireball appeared in my hand.

  Screams, running. But they couldn’t run fast enough.

  Their pain was so good. Their fear fed me, completely. I readied another one. Felt their panic grow, and relished every bit of it. They tried to run.

  “Molly,” Nain said, standing in front of me, hands up, out, a gesture of peace. “You got them. You did it.” He met my eyes.

  The fire rested in my palm, practically begging me to throw it. My heart raced, and I hungered for more.

  More fear.

  More pain.

  “Molly. Look at me. Stop it,” Nain said, a growl in his voice. Fires raged behind him, flames licking orange and blue along the homes damaged by the pyro, the bodies set aflame by me.

  “Don’t threaten me,” I said, and my voice was barely my own.

  “No threats. Time to stop now, baby.” His eyes held mine. Glowing orange. Don’t make me do this. Not now.

  My head was swimming with my lust for destruction, adrenaline from watching my friends battle for their lives, hunger for more fear, more pain.

  I bit my lip, forced my demon down, reluctantly. The fire went out.

  I collapsed.

  And blessed blackness followed.

  I came to in the truck, slumped against Nain’s arm while he drove. Brennan was on the other side of me, Ada and Stone in the back seat. I kept my eyes closed. Facing them right now was not something I could do.

  I knew it was wrong. Whatever I’d done back there, whatever I’d done to the pyro. It was wrong. I took his power. I could still feel it, thrumming inside me alongside my own. How long would I have it?

  Was I a thief in addition to being a murderer?

  It was quiet. I could feel tension, fear from Nain’s team.

  “Are you going to talk to her about this?” Ada finally asked, quietly, from the back seat.

  Silence for a few seconds. I started to think Nain wouldn’t answer. “What am I supposed to say to her? ‘Try not to kill any of us, please?’”

  I felt irritation spike from Brennan. “You’re not going to say that.”

  Silence. Then: “I should.”

  “You need to tell her she’s still got a place with us,” Brennan said. Something in the way he said it made my heart melt, just a little. “You need to tell her she’s still got friends.”

  “You need to tell her what she is, big man. She needs to hear it from you, before she hears it from somebody else,” Ada said. “Whatever you decide to do, you know I’m with you. I always have been. But she needs to be told, Nain.”

  “Stone?” Nain said. I waited.

  “She saved my life, man. That’s all that matters to me right now. Call me a selfish bastard if you want to, but I like the chick.”

  Ada laughed a little. The mood in the truck lightened, just a little. Except for Nain.

  I shifted, forced my eyes open. I looked straight ahead. Couldn’t make myself meet anyone’s eyes.

  Ada reached forward and rubbed my shoulder gently. “You did good, girl.”

  I snorted. “I’m a goddamned monster.”

  I could sense a little fear from Ada. Concern, anger from Brennan. Nain was a mess of emotions I couldn’t even begin to sort out.

  “Maybe, baby girl,” Stone said from the back seat, his voice hoarse from the pain. “But you’re our goddamned monster.”

  Ada laughed and gave me another pat on the shoulder. Nain pulled up in front of the loft. “Everyone else out. Go get some sleep. Molly, you’re with me.”

  I didn’t argue. Brennan glared at Nain, glanced at me, but left just the same. Stone and Ada walked into the loft, supporting each other. I scooted over into the passenger seat Brennan had vacated, and Nain pulled away from the curb.

  I tried to glance at him without being obvious. He was a coiled spring. Jaw clenched, every muscle in his arms and shoulders tense. Blood flecked his neck, and his shirt was torn. His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard I was surprised it didn’t snap. I turned and looked out the window.

  He drove across the Belle Isle bridge, taking us onto the island. This time of night, on a weeknight, it was mostly empty. He drove around to the beach side and pulled over.

  We sat there for a minute, listening to the engine tick as it cooled down.

  “I need some air,” he finally said, shoving his door open. He walked toward the beach, and I followed. There was a bench nearby, and he sat on it, staring out at the Detroit River. I sat at the other end of the bench and looked over at him.

  Blood was seeping from his shoulder.

  “Oh, holy shit. You’re bleeding,” I said. He waved me off, but I headed back to the truck and grabbed the first aid kit from under the front seat. I ran back with it, walked up to him.

  That side of his shirt, the side I hadn’t been able to see when he’d been driving, was soaked in blood.

  “That needs to be cleaned and you should go to a hospital or something,” I said, stepping back.

  “It’s just a scratch,” he muttered.

  I stepped closer to him, sat on the bench on his injured side. I gently pulled the fabric away from his shoulder. It was already sticking to the blood there.

  “Oh, crap,” I said under my breath.

  “It’s not that bad. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of it later,” he said. Fury, a million other emotions.

  “It’s just gross, that’s all,” I said, pulling the tattered shirt back again. I went to work with the alcohol wipes, cleaning so I could see what I was working with. A long, ragged gash went from his shoulder to just below his neck.

  “That’s not from a knife,” I murmured.

  “Broken bottle,” he said, clenching his jaw as I applied more alcohol. My stomach turned as blood continued to ooze from the cut.

  “I am really bad with blood,” I said, putting a gauze pad over it.

  He didn’t say anything, and I kept working, securing the gauze with tape. This close, I could smell him, and he smelled like cinnamon, something warm and almost spicy. Even in my fear, my stress, I found my mind going to earlier that day, that near-kiss on the roof. My fingers ran along the tape, sealing the gauze to his cool skin.

  “Do you know what you did tonight?” he asked quietly.

  “Yeah. I took his power.”

  “There’s a word for that. Mindflaying.”

  “Okay.”

  “Demons can’t do that. At least, I didn’t think they could. The last being I heard of who could do that was well before my time.”

  I was silent.

  “It’s–” He sighed. “It’s not good, Molly.”

  “I’m a demon. There is nothing good about me,” I said, pulling his bloody shirt over the bandages. I started repacking the first aid kit.

  “Mindflayers are feared by our kind. Mindflayers are the boogeymen that supernatural kids fear. Even demons fear the mindflayer.”

  I just watched him.

  “You’re like the psychic equivalent of a vampire, Molly. You don’t need blood. You feed on power. You can feed on thoughts, emotions.” He paused, looked out at the river, at lights reflecting on the water. A few seconds later, he continued. “When I found out you were able to read emotions, I suspected. But then, I thought it was not possible. Yet here we are.”

  “You’re a danger to the supernaturals, whose power you will find more and more irresistible. Your hunger will only grow, now that you’ve had a taste. And you’re a danger to the Normals, who are nothing if not emotional. Temptation is everywhere, for a mindflayer.”

  He wasn’t looking at me.

  “They won’t feel safe around me anymore,” I said
softly, thinking of the team. George, who already feared and hated me. Veronica, who wanted to be friends, but jumped every time I glanced her way.

  He was quiet. “Some of them won’t. Some, like Stone and Brennan, will. But the question is, do you want to risk it?”

  “I would never hurt one of you,” I said.

  “You might not be able to stop yourself.”

  “Do it, then.”

  He looked at me, finally, deep blue eyes that always seemed to see straight through me.

  “End me. Do it now. I won’t even put up a fight.” Knew it was a lie as the words left my mouth. I practically felt my demon salivate at the thought of a fight. And he knew it, too.

  He laughed. “You would. Once your demon realized what was happening, you’d fight. And given what you are, you might even win, if you got lucky.”

  “So, what? You’re afraid of me now?” I asked, exasperated.

  “Did I fucking say that?” he asked, glaring at me, and his anger fed me.

  Fed me.

  Why hadn’t I realized it before? Being around Nain, I always felt stronger, faster, more powerful.

  “Oh, crap.”

  He was watching me, and I sensed satisfaction from him. “Anger is good, huh?”

  I nodded.

  He stood up, and walked toward the water. Raked his fingers through his hair.

  “We had a deal. You would at least try to end me if I became a monster. This pretty much defines ‘monster,’ doesn’t it?”

  “We’ll keep working on control.”

  I got up and stalked over to where he stood. “Did you see what I did tonight?” I asked, well aware that I was shouting. “I killed him, and I liked it. I killed his team, and I liked that. I didn’t want to stop!”

  He turned to me. “Yeah. I saw it. It was magnificent.”

  “I….what?”

  “Keep working, Molly. You’re too tough to let it win.”

  “But you just said it’s only going to get worse.”

  “Yeah. But you just proved something for me.”

  “What?”

  “You can feed pretty well from me. Hell knows we’re a mess together. When aren’t we pissed off at each other? Training, working with the team, you’ll be around me enough to take the edge off, I think.”