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

Page 24

by Rain Oxford


  I didn’t understand much of what she said, but the human had my full attention. “What is your job?” I asked.

  She hesitated, took a chug from the bottle, and sighed. “I deal with rare books and artifacts. I get contracted to find a book, track a family heirloom, stuff like that. It gets messy, especially when I end up in the middle of an ownership debate. Actually, sometimes I get hired to solve ownership disputes.”

  “And that is why you are angry?”

  “No. A client hired me a few weeks ago to track down some rings. I did, but he wanted to pay me first, then have me make the drop-off somewhere else.”

  “That does sound suspicious. You still have the rings then?”

  “In my purse by the door. Shit, if I had been robbed… money and rings…” frustrated, she took another drink.

  At this point, I was worried, because I wanted her to keep explaining and she couldn’t do that if she passed out drunk. I went back to the front door, saw her black leather purse discarded on the floor, and dug through it. She came in as I pulled out a small, wooden box that rattled, then took it from me to open it. Inside were a dozen rings. Most of them were gold with jewels or stones. Even as powerless and untrained in mortal magic as I was, I could feel the power they held. Malevolent energy radiated from them.

  “It was a trap; the mugger was supposed to get the rings and money. How did you escape?” I asked.

  She pulled a small, black, plastic object from her purse and pressed the button on the side. At the top of the rounded plastic, electricity crackled loudly. “I don’t go anywhere without this.”

  The woman was becoming more interesting by the minute. “Tell me more.”

  “No. I’m going to bed. You can take the spare bedroom if you keep it down in the morning.”

  I didn’t like being denied, but she left the room without giving me time to make demands. She took the rings and the weapon with her. I searched the two other rooms besides her bedroom to find an empty guest room and a bathroom. With no hunger in my stomach and a safe bed under me, I fell asleep easily. I loved chaos, and I realized I would be swimming in it for as long as I was around Sydney.

  * * *

  I woke to the sun in my face, which immediately put me in a foul mood. Worse still was that a bird sang cheerily outside my window so, realizing that I had nothing with which to kill the offending creature, I left the room.

  In the kitchen, I searched the fridge for food. There was meat sliced thinly in a plastic container, cans of drink, a jar of red sauce, and spaghetti in a plastic box. Honestly… humans and their plastic.

  Unfortunately, after eating the meat, I was still hungry. I had seen how a microwave worked, but the spaghetti was no worse cold than hot, so I ate it out of the container. Then I spent some time working out the soda can, but finally figured out the trick and was careful not to cough this time.

  Sydney awoke much later, when the sun was high in the sky, and entered the kitchen in short shorts and a sleeveless, white shirt. She had much more muscle tone than I had thought, which seemed odd for a woman, but I didn’t really care.

  The woman ignored me, opened the fridge, and stared blankly into the depths. After a while, I assumed she was sleeping with her eyes open. Finally, she turned to me. “Are you still hungry?”

  “I think I will always be hungry.”

  “Grab your coat. We’ll go out for breakfast. You can learn how a human lives.” I froze on my way to the living room. She nudged me out of her way to her room. “You’re not exactly subtle,” she explained.

  We went to a diner and Sydney helped me order eggs, bacon, and toast, along with coffee. I actually liked everything except for the toast. Then we returned to the house and Sydney left me to get some work done. I decided to try out the shower, which I found fairly enjoyable. After that, I discovered the television, napped, and then took a walk.

  I returned bored. Out of enjoyable options, I was about to take another shower when I heard the sound of breaking glass. I followed the commotion into Sydney’s bedroom, where one man was searching her room and another was crawling through her window.

  Both men stopped when I entered. I attacked the first man before I really knew what I was doing. With no weapon and no magic, I was out of my depths. Fortunately, I had surprise on my side, and the man was easily overcome. As I started for the second man, he pulled out a gun. I had seen these weapons before and knew they killed humans, but I really didn’t believe one could hurt me. His aim left much to be desired; he missed me twice. However, as I reached him, he pulled the trigger one last time and I felt pain like I never had before in my left shoulder.

  I managed a few punches before the pain slowed me. I was unaccustomed to injury, and that gave the men the chance to escape.

  * * *

  Sydney found me on the couch, watching television. “What happened to your arm?” was the first thing she asked.

  I shrugged and instantly regretted it. “Some men broke in and one shot me before they left.”

  “Oh, shit. You need to go to a hospital.”

  “Why? I wrapped it.” I had found some strips of cloth in her closet and fashioned a bandage from them.

  “You have to get the bullet out.”

  “I already dug it out. Don’t worry about it. You might want to get a new window, though. Get one that doesn’t break.”

  “You could get an infection.”

  That was something I hadn’t considered, since I was used to healing myself with magic. I shrugged my right shoulder only this time. She sat heavily on the couch next to me instead of across from me.

  “I told you that you shouldn’t get involved. Those weren’t regular burglars.”

  “No, I didn’t think so. I assumed they were here for the rings.”

  “It’s worse than that. They were after something else. I… came across a book… a magic book.” I turned to face her, mindful of my shoulder but undeniably interested. “Ever since then, people have been trying to get it.”

  “Show it to me.”

  “Not a chance.” She walked out before I could push the issue and took a shower. I really wasn’t concerned with snooping, because I planned to search the house as soon as she left for the book. Really, I was only passing her bedroom, but when I heard a familiar voice, I paused. The door was open a crack; just enough to make out the words.

  “I really hope you have a better plan than that,” the voice said.

  “I know how to do my job,” Sydney said, offended.

  “Oh, of course you do. That is why I entrusted the book to you.”

  “You gave it to me because you had nobody else.”

  “That is far from the case. In fact, quite a few people would be willing to hold onto it for me. I’m a very nice guy; many people owe me a favor. I chose you, because you have more at stake than them. See, if this book gets into the wrong hands, people will die, your father included.”

  “Leave my father out of this.”

  “I didn’t heal your father because I wanted you to hide this book; I healed him because he will prove useful if you fail.”

  I opened the door wide to see Sydney and the man who had offered me the apple on Duran. He grinned at me, cruelly, and vanished.

  Yes, Sydney was turning out to be very interesting.

  We both sat on the couch and watched the news. Right between the weather and sports, I said, “I’m a demon.”

  “That’s cool. I’m a dragon.”

  * * *

  Over the next few days, Sydney worked during the day and taught me how to survive on Earth at night. She had the book hidden in a locked chest in a secret cubby of her closet. With clear warnings not to open it, she entrusted me to protect it. Obviously, it wasn’t her brightest idea.

  For the time being, my interest in what she could teach me was superior to my curiosity. If it is a Noquodi book, it might give me the power I need. Of course, it could break my deal with Dylan somehow, and that was a consequence I needed to avoid if at
all possible.

  The house wasn’t robbed again, but I stayed vigilant. As the days passed, I got to know way more about Sydney than I ever wanted to. She took me to places with her, like the grocery store and the book store. Once, at the grocery store, I found a wallet on the ground and put it in my pocket, only to turn around and find Sydney giving me the most disappointed look. No one had ever been disappointed in me before.

  “Open the wallet,” she said, surprising me.

  I did, and saw first a driver’s license, and then a photo of three little children. The license was of a middle-aged woman.

  Sydney was watching over my shoulder. “You’re going to steal from a mother and three babies?”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “You never had a childhood, so I don’t know how to explain it. Don’t take anything from the wallet. Go find this woman and give it to her. You might understand then.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “But you will do it anyway.” She walked away, giving me no room for argument.

  I sighed. I wanted money because it would give me independence, but I wanted the conflict that was Sydney more. I examined the picture once again, then combed the store for the stranger. It was extremely difficult, because everyone honestly looked the same to me. I knew this woman had long, dirty blond hair, hazel eyes, and possibly three children with her.

  After searching the entire store three times, I gave up and assumed she had already left. Then, just as I was about to rejoin Sydney, I ran right into her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” the woman gasped, even though I was the one who wasn’t watching where I was going.

  “No worries. Here. I found this on the ground.” I was trying not to scowl, but she looked terribly flustered. Nervousness wasn’t nearly as alluring as fear or panic.

  She stared in wonder at her wallet for a moment before taking it and looking at me, as if she knew I wasn’t human. “Thank you. I thought someone had taken it. It’s all the money I have for food this month.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “My husband of ten years cheated on me… so I took our kids and we’ve been living in a motel room.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. You look like someone who doesn’t pity anyone. I’m so sick of pity.”

  “Why would someone pity you? You were wronged and you left him. At least you were strong enough to leave. Pity is useless.” She narrowed her eyes at me, which I associated with suspicion. “What?” I asked.

  “Oh… nothing… but I need to you do something.”

  I help her and she thinks I owe her a favor?

  “I’m sure you have a job you’re happy with or whatever… My sister is a modeling agent. She has enough time for another client, but she’s waiting for the right one. I don’t know much about bone structure or skin tone, but your eyes are gorgeous. If you have even a little interest, call her.” She handed me a small, colorful card.

  “Mom!” a little girl called. The woman thanked me once again and left.

  Sydney was suddenly beside me, leaning against my arm. “So?” she asked.

  I held up the card for her to see. “I don’t understand why she was talking about her sister and my eyes. Is she trying to mate me with her sister?”

  “No. I think she’s trying to get you a job.”

  “I don’t want a job.”

  “Oh, Zeb, you’ll want this one. All you have to do is stand there, look hot, and get paid. A lot of models are heavily into drugs and gambling, and there’re a lot of affairs.”

  “You mean…”

  “Conflict, chaos, manipulation, sex, deception…”

  “I’ll take it.”

  * * *

  Sydney and I were up talking late into the night after meeting Amber Stryk, my new manager. Sydney apparently had a long day and fell asleep, so I carried her to her bed, took off her high-heeled boots, and tucked the blanket around her.

  Not seeing a reason to go to my own room, I got in bed with her.

  This was one more thing I regretted, because I was soon woken by her startled gasps. I opened my eyes to see her sitting up, panting and sweating from a nightmare.

  “What happened?” I asked. I understood nightmares and the distress they could cause, but I wasn’t prepared for her to turn over, put her arm across my chest, bury her face against my shoulder, and cuddle into my side.

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  The dragon blood in her veins made her run hot and sweat was very unappealing. I opened my mouth to tell her to get off me… then stopped. I sighed, closed my eyes, and went back to sleep.

  * * *

  I slept in Sydney’s bed from then on. She used me as a teddy bear, for I would wake her when her dreams turned violent. The only excuse I had for putting up with it was because she was teaching me how to live without my magic. Besides, her bed was more comfortable than mine.

  Over the next few years, there were many times when the opportunity to cause destruction was presented to me… but every time, Sydney was there, judging me. The worst part was that she would never order me to be nice. Instead, she expected me to be, and I found myself meeting her expectations. I realized after some time that this was a mind trick that women possessed. When Amber once told me that most women wanted a “bad boy,” I knew it was because they wanted to change him. Sydney was trying to train it out of me.

  To my great dismay, every single time I did as Sydney expected, things would turn out in my favor. I stopped demanding to see this mysterious book when my own job became a priority. The money was fine, but it was for sheer enjoyment that I continued with it.

  The first time I actually encountered someone in need, I found myself driving a heavily pregnant teenager to the hospital and sitting with her for hours because her parents refused to be there for her. The second time, when I was in the proximity of a convenience store that was being held up, I realized the depths of my deal with Dylan.

  Sydney never told me about her dreams, but I knew it had something to do with the dragon in her. Over time, I became more interested in her past, but she was as unwilling to share as I was, so I got over it. We were both secretive, we both had hard days, and we both enjoyed having someone to come home to. And it was a home.

  I woke up one morning to find the bed empty and a note saying that Sydney had an early meeting. She used short words because English was a difficult language that I was still learning to read. There was also breakfast laid out on the table for me. When I acknowledged the effort she put forth that morning, I felt something really odd.

  It was a day that I was particularly exhausted after being poked and prodded for hours. Between makeup and hair, three photo shoots, and having to go out and meet fans, half my face hurt and the other was numb. Sydney burst in, marched straight to her room, and started packing. After a few minutes, I went to the bedroom and sat on the corner of the bed. “What’s going on?”

  “My dad was attacked. There’s a town that I’ve been dreaming about for months. I think there are other dragons there.” She stopped packing and faced me. “Come with me. California is no place for a demon anyway.”

  “What kind of town?”

  “I don’t know; it’s in my dreams. There are mountains. It’s a tiny, remote town with not many people.”

  “It sounds ghastly. You’re just going to abandon this house and go search for a town in your dreams? That’s really silly. What about your job?”

  “I can do my job anywhere.”

  “I can’t. I like it here. I like all the people.”

  “You like the suffering and hatred,” she accused. I nodded and she sighed. “Think about it. I’ll stay for the night, but I’m leaving tomorrow. If you don’t want to come, I can’t force you. I can tell you, it will get to you. Maybe you find the conflict from people fun when you can come home and relax with someone to talk to, but eventually, other people’s problems just weigh on you.”

  That night, Sydney cuddled into my arms whe
n I got under the covers, leaned up, and kissed me. It was soft, warm, and sweet. “My dreams haven’t just been about the town. There’s also a man in the dreams… another dragon.”

  I stroked my finger gently down her back. “I don’t want to know.”

  She propped herself up on her elbows. The moonlight streamed in through the window and across her face. I wondered how I could ever confuse her with other women. Humans still looked similar to me, but she was beautiful. Whereas I could see a person’s magical aura before, now I saw Sydney’s soul when I looked at her.

  She was kind, loving, selfless… and mine.

  “I’m being selfish,” she said. “I know you enjoy your job. We can protect my dad here. If you really don’t want to go, we’ll stay.”

  I could have said something. I could have conceded this once and let her have what she desired… but I didn’t. Instead, I nodded. She snuggled against my chest and fell asleep. I knew she would relent. I knew it from the moment she said she wanted to leave. She wouldn’t leave me, not after spending three years with me.

  I maneuvered her gently so that I could get out of bed without waking her. In the dark, I easily found the magic chest and took it into the spare room for privacy. It had a concealment charm on it so that the contents could not be found for as long as it was closed. Breaking the lock was far too easy.

  I opened the box that had driven me insane for three years, but what I found was not a Noquodi book. Inside was a large book with a black cover made of actual dried skin. It was heavy with a metal binding and thick paper. I opened it to the first page, which was blank. Suddenly, as if there was a gust of wind, pages flipped themselves until it was most of the way to the middle of the book.

  Handwritten scribbles and sketches of dark horrors adorned these pages. It was a grimoire of more power than I had the capacity of… far exceeding the abilities of any mortal. Much of it was notes on magic spells or even notes about people. Whoever wrote the grimoire had the ability to spy on the gods. The author was a traitor and wrote of a weapon that was used in the Iadnah wars. Someone had the knowledge and motive to kill the gods, and the book had very specific details on where to find not just this one weapon, but several of them.

 

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