The Demon's Game (The Guardian Series Book 4)

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The Demon's Game (The Guardian Series Book 4) Page 7

by Rain Oxford


  * * *

  An hour later, we were suiting up for laser tag. “Friend or foe?” Dad asked.

  “Friend,” Mordon and Hail said simultaneously.

  “No,” I argued. “If we can split Mordon and Dad up, we can take them out.”

  “But we would be split up, too.”

  “We can’t beat Mordon and Dad together.”

  “If we go foe, I call Ron,” Dad said, surprising us.

  “Why? Hail’s a better shot,” I argued.

  “Yes, but Hell would never risk shooting you, so I can use you as a shield.”

  “You can’t use your son as a shield!” Mordon debated.

  “Why not? This is laser tag, not paintballs. Fine, we’ll have to go friend, then. When Mordon and I win, you two have to clean the apartment for a week.”

  “When Ron and I win, you buy ice-cream,” Hail said before I could stop him.

  I elbowed him. “We could have got something good!”

  He looked guilty. “But I want ice-cream.” Receiving my glare, he struggled to add onto our deal. “Not that dollar store, stuff either; we want Braums.”

  Dad laughed evilly while Mordon strapped on his vest. Although Dad would be playful about it, he played to win, while Mordon would never lose a battle when he was with his brother. Dad was a force to be reckoned with, but together, they were unstoppable.

  Damn… I hated cleaning.

  Dad teased us and let us think we were winning at first. About ten minutes in, Hail almost got him, but that was a trap. We should have gone for Mordon and gotten him out of the way before he really got into it, because by attacking Dad, we set off Mordon’s protective instincts. Within five minutes, we were cornered and out of options.

  The flashing lights and loud music made it difficult to hear myself think let alone come up with a plan. Magic was my fallback, but any flex of my energy would kill the electricity and that would ruin the game. It would be a forfeit.

  “If I can get to that panel over there,” I started before Dad’s phone went off, playing that familiar ringtone. I never understood why Dad thought “Hungry Like the Wolf” was such a funny song, especially since Granddad always just rolled his eyes.

  I heard Dad groan and stood up from our shelter just as Dad was hanging up. “They have some kind of weird case and they need me to go in. I shouldn’t be long, but I don’t have time to drop you off at home. Do you think you guys can hang out around here for a while?”

  “Yeah. I assume there’s a Braums,” Mordon said.

  Hail could barely contain his excitement.

  Dad laughed. “Right across the street. Here.” Dad pulled out his wallet and gave Mordon way too much for ice-cream. “What we talked about before…”

  “Yeah, I know where it is; we drove right by it. If we get done with ice-cream before you get back, we’ll be there.”

  They were still plotting. “Damn hospital ruining our day out. They better have a good reason or every one of them will need a doctor when I’m done with them.” Hail slipped his hand in mine to help cool my ire before we started stripping off the laser gear.

  The ice-cream was fantastic, and Mordon was great, but we needed Dad there. Uncle Mordon was kind of quiet without Dad there to rile him. We asked how Emiko was doing and he gave us a little shrug.

  “I haven’t spoken to her in two months.”

  “How is Sen?”

  “He’s doing well. He’s looking forward to starting school. I’m just glad the education system in Mokii has improved with my father’s new laws.”

  Mordon and Emiko obviously liked each other a lot, but Emiko didn’t like Dad, god magic, or the fact that Dad was from Earth. She really didn’t like anyone that wasn’t a dragon from Duran. Unfortunately, that also pertained to her son. Kaori-le Sen was the result of an impulsive decision from us and an act of violence from a mage king in the far future. Not only was Sen a reminder of a man violating her, but he was neither fully dragon nor fully from Duran. Dragons were exceptionally arrogant about their bloodlines.

  It turned out the surprise was a new bookstore. Obviously the laser tag was for all of us to have fun together, the ice-cream was particularly for Hail, and the bookstore was for me. Mordon told me to pick out whatever I wanted and I thought I was going to die from an overdose of excitement. First I hit the cookbooks, then the science books. I was in the math section when I realized something was wrong.

  My head started throbbing, but I could tell it was actually Hail who was in pain. I tried to find him, but my world blurred further with every step. Hail’s visions could become violent when he resisted them and he needed me with him to help. I had learned very early in life that it was easier for Hail when I shared his visions, even if that meant I couldn’t keep a look out. I didn’t get to choose when I saw his visions and when I didn’t, although I could sometimes hold them off if I fought hard enough. This one I couldn’t fight.

  The colors and scents of the bookstore faded away and left me with the chilling image of the hospital. The overhead light was harsh in the sterile medical room and the heart monitor was like a warning that death was near. What was really frightful though was seeing my dad standing rigid and blocking the woman on the bed from the man before him. It wasn’t the woman the big man was pointing the gun at; it was my dad.

  Calm was the only expression on Dad’s face, but it was, to my knowledge, the first time my dad had a gun aimed on him. Hail took my hand with desperation. We had long since learned that we couldn’t do anything during the visions; we could only prevent the situation from happening after we woke from it. The downside was that we usually didn’t know how much time we had or what events led to the situation. Just as I was gathering details to come up with a solution, the man pulled the trigger…

  And I knew… this was a current vision. Just as we were seeing it, my dad had been shot.

  I woke with a shout, begging for Mordon to tell me Dad was all right. When Mordon gasped with shock and pain, I knew it wasn’t so. In my distraction, I didn’t sense the stranger behind me until I felt the sharp stab of pain in my head. Before I could turn to see my attacker, my vision grew dark and I felt myself falling.

  Chapter 3

  Dylan

  I was enjoying my morning until I got the phone call. A sense of foreboding gripped me hard, as did Mordon.

  “Don’t answer it,” he said, clinching my wrist.

  Whether it was because he felt my reluctance or because of his own I didn’t know, but I ignored the sense of dread and his demand. “Hello,” I said, holding the phone to my ear.

  “Dr. Yatunus? Sorry to call you on your day off, but we have a very strange case and we need you.” Ms. Manning’s tone was apologetic.

  As much as I wanted to turn her down, I liked working in this town. Besides, if someone really needed my help, I couldn’t refuse just so I could have a day off. I sighed and Mordon groaned. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Seeing the hurt expression on Ron’s face was heartbreaking. Since the time he was a baby, he acted like I was abandoning him every time I so much as left the room. Fifteen minutes later, I was walking through the hospital doors, but with each step the urge to leave grew. Something evil was lurking in the hospital, waiting with baited breath to spring.

  Ms. Manning seemed relieved and embarrassed as she handed me a chart without a word. When I read the chart, I was sure there was a mistake. I looked at her, but she wouldn’t meet my eye.

  I sighed. “I’ll get changed and get in there.”

  “Actually, I think it would be better if you don’t wait.”

  Worried, I started down the hallway to the exam room. I opened the door and saw my patient. “Holy sugar!” I said, slamming the door shut. A nurse passed me by with a concerned frown.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Um…” I swallowed and I checked the chart to see if anyone had administered any medication to the patient, but it seemed everyone was too frightened to. “How lon
g has Mr. McDaniel been in there?”

  She cleared her throat nervously. “He came in about twenty minutes ago.”

  “And he’s been sitting in there without treatment for twenty minutes?”

  “He hasn’t pushed the call button.”

  I opened the door and forced myself to enter before closing the door behind me, sealing myself in with the patient. “Mister…” I cleared my throat. “Mr. McDaniel, I’m Dr. Yatunus. I would like to ask you a series of questions to make sure you’re comfortable before I try to make any diagnosis. First of all, can you speak?”

  “Yes,” was the barely understandable reply.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “Just from pressure. I feel like I have a sinus headache.” Again, if I hadn’t had experience getting the story from people with broken noses, I wouldn’t have had a clue what he said.

  “I see. Can you breathe properly?”

  “I can’t swallow well, but I can breathe through my mouth.”

  “Are there any symptoms other than… physical?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Have you taken any form of medication since the first sign of swelling?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. You don’t seem to be in any immediate danger.” I clipped the chart to the end of his bed and ran through my entire medical knowledge on anaphylactic shock. “Was this gradual or sudden?”

  “It began yesterday and just kept growing.”

  “What were you doing when it started? Were you eating or drinking anything unusual?”

  He shook his head. “I was at work. I coach P.E.”

  “Okay, I need to listen to your heart.” I pulled out the stethoscope from one of the drawers and pressed the metal disk to his chest. Ignoring the frantic sound of his heart, I searched him out with my energy. What came back shocked me worse than his condition. “You don’t happen to coach P.E. at the local middle school, do you?”

  “Yes, I do. Why?”

  “Do you yell a lot during the day?” I asked, putting the stethoscope away.

  “I have to. I have to keep boys in line all day, work their energy out.”

  “I’m sorry to say, that is the root of your condition. See, when you yell, your blood pressure rises and it makes you more vulnerable to afflictions. In this case, harmless allergies were elevated to dangerous inflammation because your immune system was already weakened by your yelling.”

  His devastated expression told me he was buying my bullshit. I was trying not to grind my teeth because Ron was supposed to be keeping his powers a secret. When I felt his curse in this man, it was simple to piece together exactly what happened. Ron didn’t like being yelled at, and such a curse as this was exactly the kind of thing he would do to punish someone who yelled at him. The patient, who turned out to be Ron’s unfortunate P.E. teacher, had an inflamed nose. It wasn’t just large; it was at least twenty times too large, to the point where his eyes were barely open and his mouth was contorted.

  “So this will go away if I stop yelling?”

  I easily removed my son’s curse, but his nose would shrink as slowly as it grew. “I will provide you with a prescription for some antihistamines, but yes, as long as you keep your calm, it will go away on its own.”

  “Thank you!” He thanked me repeatedly on his way out, barely giving me a chance to write him his prescription.

  I went to the nurse station and handed Ms. Manning the file. “Allergic reaction to shellfish. He’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Just as I said it, the doors behind me burst open. The chill that raced up my spine was like a knife blade running down my back. Don’t turn around. Whatever behind me was evil. Don’t turn around. It couldn’t get me if I didn’t look. Don’t turn around. Just wait until it’s gone and go home.

  I turned around, saw the person the paramedics were wheeling in on a gurney, and gasped. Black spots formed in my eyes, my head pounded, and bile rose. Only one person could make me feel so much pity, anxiety, and regret, though she was barely recognizable under the bruises and gashes all over her body.

  It was my mother.

  * * *

  Years of agonizing, conflicting memories warred with my training as I tried to save the life of the woman I loved and hated equally. Because my Iadnah energy was in tune with my emotions and desires, I couldn’t risk using it, not even for a second. I used every ounce of skill I had as a doctor to stitch up her wounds and stop the internal bleeding, while a small impulse inside me wanted to slip up, or even take the pillow under her head and smother her with it. But I couldn’t be that hateful. I couldn’t live with myself if I were that kind of man.

  After hours of hard work, I was alone with the woman who terrorized my childhood when she wasn’t neglecting me. I sat beside Regina in the chair reserved for loved ones with her blood all over my scrubs. I couldn’t stand to wash it off. It was as if I had been to war with the woman and won, when the horrible truth was that I could never win against her. No matter where I went, or how much I grew up, or how powerful I became, she was still the reason I was me.

  I was reminiscing about the time she pawned all my stuff, emptied out my bank account, and kicked me out with just the clothes on my back because I wanted to go to college instead of getting a job to support her. She aged poorly in the thirteen years I had been gone and looked to be in her late seventies instead of her early fifties. Her hair, once gold and white blond, was now a synthetic yellow with light gray roots.

  I noticed some time after her surgery that she was wearing a wedding ring.

  My mother woke with a small moan before her eyes fluttered open to stare straight ahead. I held still, hoping she wouldn’t notice me. As if she heard my thoughts, she turned and looked right at me with no recognition for several minutes. When it finally dawned on her who I was, she inhaled sharply.

  “Dylan.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything until she winced in pain. “What happened? Who hurt you?” I asked, although I had a very good idea. Regina Carter had a history of infuriating any man foolish enough to date her until he snapped.

  “Where’ve you been all these years? I mean, I assumed you’d been in jail, but you look too spiffy for a convict. Yur a doctor now, all rich, and you ‘adn’t even bothered to call yur mother. After all I gave you growin’ up.”

  I sighed, for she was exactly as I remembered her. After neglecting me my entire childhood, ridiculing me constantly, and kicking me out when the government stopped paying her money for me, she still felt that I should work hard to support her expensive lifestyle.

  “Who hurt you?”

  “What do you care? You’ve been gone for years.”

  “Did your husband beat you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He makes me happy.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Money makes you happy, and this is not a resort town. After giving it all of two minutes of thought, based on your gullibility and history with men, the most likely scenario is that you met a man online who said he was rich. You previously ran out of all your money, so you uprooted your life to marry and move in with him. You then realized he had lied to you and was actually poor, but instead of letting you go when you confronted him about it, he beat you. Has he cheated on you yet? No, because you would have taken what little money he has and left.”

  “He never cheated on me.”

  “You haven’t tried to run?”

  “Of course I have. I’ve been trying to get out of this broke-ass town for months. I can’t afford to go nowhere.”

  “If you go back to him, he’ll beat you again.”

  “He did the last three times. Looks like you didn’t have to ruin my marriages as a kid; I could ruin them just fine on my own.”

  “How much do you need to get out of town?”

  “A few thousand.”

  “I will give you the money you need, but you cannot put it in your bank account. If you do, he gets half of it when you divorce him.”

  “
She’s not going anywhere and she sure as hell ain’t divorcing me,” came a deep voice behind me.

  I had been so distracted that I hadn’t heard the door open. “We have to do something about the damn security around here.”

  The man was certainly my mother’s type; all brawn and no brain. I wasn’t worried about the fact that he was about six-seven or the biker tattoos all over his leather clad body. No, I was much more upset about the gun he leveled on me.

  “Don’t get involved, Dylan,” my mother warned, as if I had asked the man to pull a gun on me. Then again, I guess having anything to do with her made me guilty by association.

  “You can’t expect to walk out of here now that you’ve pulled a gun on a doctor,” I said to the man instead.

  “I can and will. This has nothing to do with you, but she’s mine.”

  “Dylan, we’re at the bookstore. Are you about done?” Mordon asked in my head.

  I tried to draw on the peace in him. Mordon was fun to be with and loved to goof around, but Rojan was a constant presence of calm power. If I ever felt out of control or like I couldn’t unwind, Rojan could share his calmness with me or Mordon.

  “A little bit of a detour.”

  “Do you need me to come to the hospital?”

  “No, just watch out for the boys. Hell hasn’t had any sudden visions, has he?”

  “No, why? Are you in danger?”

  “Don’t worry. Just doctor business.” I couldn’t block myself from him because it would have been an instant red flag, but he knew how stressful my job usually was. Stress was normal, I just couldn’t afford to feel any form of panic.

  My power was infinite, but I was still learning to use it. I could make a force field that would stop the bullet, which seemed like the most promising method. The only reason I hadn’t yet done it was because the woman in the next room was on a respirator. If I could talk the man down from shooting me, it would be better than using magic. However, I wouldn’t just let him take my mother.

 

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