It saps me vacant, and I’m pulled down to the ground with a weighty thud.
I lie on the kitchen floor and stare at the lights set into the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. I fight the black as it attempts to take me again; I’ve passed out enough today. “Stay awake,” I say to myself as I wait for the dead man to wake up.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Aidan
I suddenly understand why my mom always seemed so confused and muddled. Casting takes the brain right out of your head. I feel a little . . . buzzed? I’ve been high once or twice in the past, and it sort of felt like this. Floating confusion. And hunger. Wow, am I hungry. The same as when I teleported.
I’m contemplating digging through the pantry when Rebecca’s dad releases a moan. I sit up and lean forward, touching his shoulder in what I hope is a reassuring way.
“Are you here with me? Can you open your eyes?”
His leg moves and then his head tips. He releases another moan and a cough. Another cough, and then he’s gasping, bringing a hand to his throat, like he’s waking to the last memory in the queue, the one where he was being strangled to death.
“You’re okay,” I say. “You’re all healed up now.” I pat him on the shoulder, satisfied that he’s good. I mean, he’s alive. He’s much, much better, at the very least.
Now, time to find food.
I manage to get into a sort of standing position and crunch my way over the debris on the kitchen floor to the very large double fridge. “Okay, let’s see what the rich folk eat. Come on, tri-tip.”
I open the doors dramatically and start rummaging around. Everything’s in plastic containers. I open a few, smell the contents until I hit the jackpot. “Ravioli! Oh, man, this is awesome.” Why am I so giddy about ravioli? Something may be wrong with me right now, but I’m too hungry to care. I pluck a pasta pouch out of the container and pop it in my mouth.
Then I have to close my eyes because I think I’m going to cry. It tastes so fucking good.
“What is going on?” a scratchy voice says.
I look down, still chewing. Rebecca’s dad is sitting up, massaging his throat, and gaping at me.
“Hey,” I say. I hold up the container and motion to the open fridge behind me. “I hope it’s okay that I just dug in. You kind of owe me, though.” Okay, yes, something is definitely wrong with my head. I clear my throat and make a serious face. “How are you feeling?”
“Aidan? What . . .” His voice fades as he looks around his torn-up house.
I eat another ravioli and watch as he begins to recall everything that happened. I can tell he’s remembering it, from how he’s not demanding information or an explanation, along with the fear and shock on his face. And my guess is he saw the tar creature pretty clearly—when he looked into its snowy eyes and it strangled him to death from across the room.
Which means he’s probably realizing he’s been a blind man; monsters are very real.
The scent of terror filters into the air as the memories soak in.
He touches his throat again.
“You were dead,” I say, feeling myself sober up a little. “It killed you.”
His eyes snap to mine and doubt clouds his features.
“It’s true,” I say, reluctantly putting the lid on the ravioli and setting them back into the fridge. My reading is muddy from the resurrection, so I go to stand closer to him to feel his emotions more clearly. “Everything you think you saw. It’s all real.”
“But . . . how . . . ?” He tries to stand but he falls back.
I reach down and help him to his feet, letting him lean on me and then the counter for support. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
“You . . . what are you doing here?”
“I came to stop the creature from killing you,” I say, “but I got here too late. I did manage to get rid of it, though. Unfortunately, I also demolished your house.”
He stares at me like he’s absorbing my words, but then panic suddenly blossoms on his face. “Rebecca! Where is she? Is she all right?” He tries to head from the kitchen, but stumbles and ends up holding himself up against the wall.
And I have no idea how to tell him this next part. I can only speak honestly. “I’m not sure where she is.”
His panicked gaze falls back on me. “No . . . you don’t know?”
I shake my head.
“I went to the police station,” he says in a far-off voice, like he’s reminding himself. “What was that thing?” he asks in a rush. “That black, thin thing—” He shivers. “It was so . . .”
“I know. I’m not sure what it was.”
“How did you . . . how did you get rid of it?” He looks over at me, awe on his face.
“I used magic.”
“Magic?” Incredulity laces his words. Even after seeing things with his own eyes, he doubts them. I guess I don’t blame him, but it’s going to get exhausting trying to convince him of everything over and over.
“Yes, magic. But all you need to know is, that thing, and other things like it, are why I was here with Rebecca the other day, blessing the house. This place wasn’t safe anymore.” Hopefully I’ve remedied that for now.
He just blinks at me.
“I’m serious.”
He drops his gaze to the floor, to the mounds of debris around the room. “I’m not sure what to do.”
Anger fills me as I look at him, at his forlorn expression, his weak spirit. Because neither do I. I have no clue what to do about any of it.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Aidan
I find out Rebecca’s dad’s name is Patrick when he’s on the phone with the police again, letting them know Rebecca’s been missing for over twelve hours, and I also find out he’s extremely intimidating when he wants something to happen. After he hangs up, he goes over and sits on his tattered couch. His hand rests near Kara’s bloodstain, but he doesn’t seem to notice it.
My chest cracks open all over again.
“I can’t be here if the cops come,” I say.
He nods, somehow understanding.
“I don’t want to leave you unprotected, though. Do you have somewhere you can go?”
“My office in the city. But I don’t want to leave, in case she shows back up.”
Misery fills me for the hundredth time, thinking of what my sister might be doing to Rebecca. The girl I was supposed to protect. The girl who gave up her protections to save the girl I love. “We’ll find her,” I say. “And I’ll try and mark the doorways again to ward off any new things that come around, but there’s no guarantee it’ll hold.”
He nods again, staring at his torn-up living room. Then something seems to dawn on him and he looks up at me. “Why are we in so much danger from . . . strange things, all of a sudden?”
The answer to that question is a million miles long, so I just say, “Rebecca’s going to be able to explain that to you. But for now all you need to know is, it’s my fault. I can’t lay out everything right now, except to say that. It’s on me. But I’m going to fix it.” I’m going to stop it. Because it ends here. No one else I care about is going to get hurt.
My chest aches with the awareness of what I’ll have to do to make that happen. “Just keep yourself alert,” I say. “And if you have any scripture, find it and read some out loud.”
Connor calls when I’m on my way back to the hospital. “It’s crazy, but Kara’s somehow okay,” he says, sounding awed. “She had severe blood loss but no internal damage. They’re stitching her up and doing a transfusion.”
The heady relief that fills me makes it impossible to speak.
“The doctors had to check her three times, because they couldn’t believe it. She seemed to be incrementally healing while she was lying there in the ER.”
“What? Did you—?”
“No,” he says sounding sure. “I didn’t heal her. I wouldn’t even know how. She’s been tight-lipped since we got here, but I could tell she knew something was going on. She kept tel
ling me not to bug you, that she’d be fine. But she was so pale and all the nurses and doctors were hooking her up and acting like she was going to die. It wasn’t until ten minutes ago that I was sure that wasn’t going to happen.”
“I should’ve been there.” But I can’t feel the remorse with all the relief in me right now. She’s okay. Kara’s going to be okay. “Can I swing by and pick you guys up?”
“No, it’s gonna be a while,” he says. “She’s still waiting on the transfusion, and now that they know she’s not critical, they seem to have molasses in their shoes. It’s madness in here.” His voice grows quiet. “Looking around at some of the injuries, I have to wonder how many of them are coming from all those demons out there. It’s brutal. I heard a nurse on the phone turning away patients. Apparently the other three ERs are overflowing, too.”
I breathe out a tired groan. There could be hundreds, maybe thousands of people Ava’s allowing to be tormented just to please her hungry minions. It’s too much for my mind to even process. How can I save them all? “Listen, Rebecca’s dad is okay, he’s keeping in touch with the cops.”
“When did you talk to him?”
“When I went back to make sure he wasn’t dead.”
“You—you went back?”
“He was a sitting duck over there with that black stick-creature. And I couldn’t just leave it.”
“No, you never can.” It’s his turn to groan.
“What’s that supposed mean?”
“So he was fine?” Connor asks, ignoring my question.
“No, he was dead.”
More silence. Then he breathes out. “Shit.”
“It’s fine, I took care of it, he’s back; and the weird creature is gone. I just wanted you to know that the cops are looking for Rebecca now.”
“It won’t do any good.”
Now he’s starting to piss me off. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Heavy silence sits in the air for several seconds before he answers, “I’m tired, Aidan. I’m fucking tired of it all being shit.” Then he seems to come to a conclusion, because he adds, “And I’m pissed, okay? I’m pissed about so many things. That Sid is dying. That Kara got stabbed by some horrifying demon thing. That the girl I care about more than anyone is . . . that she’s hurting somewhere and I can’t help her.” His voice cracks with the misery. “And I’m pissed that you didn’t fucking think before bringing your sister back. Because now we’re all living in hell, just waiting to get our guts torn out. So forgive me if I’m a little tense and don’t want to hear how you saved someone else. Because. It. Doesn’t. Matter. The spiritual world is melting down, and we’re all going to end up in pieces if your psycho sister has her way.”
I wait a second and then say, quietly, “I know. I’m sorry.” Because, what can I say? He’s right. And when he doesn’t add anything else, I say, “I’m parking the Jeep near the ER entrance. I’ll leave the keys hidden on top of the driver’s side tire.”
I hang up and call a cab.
THIRTY-NINE
Aidan
“She had a heart attack!” Jax shouts gleefully at me when I come in the back door.
I walk to the table where he’s sitting with a laptop, and sink into one of the kitchen chairs. Why is he so happy someone had a heart attack?
“Who?”
“The nurse.” He angles the laptop screen to face me. “You didn’t kill her, she had a heart attack.”
Because I ripped a demon out of her. “Am I supposed to be happy about this?”
“The cops can’t arrest you for some woman having a bad ticker, dude. You’re off the hook.” Then he pauses and qualifies that last part. “Well, I mean, the weirdos who think you’re an alien might still be a problem. But hiding from nerds living in their mom’s basement shouldn’t be too tough.” He grins happily.
“They already found me.” Which means I shouldn’t be here. But I have to be close when Kara gets home. I couldn’t care less about some shitty blog.
“What?” Holly says as she comes into the kitchen. “Who found you?”
“Some guy from Blind Man’s Blog,” I say. “I told him I was hiding from the government.”
Jax taps at the keys and looks the blog up, reads for a second, then laughs. “They bought it. Sort of. They still think you’re an alien, though.”
Holly reads over his shoulder. “There’s a three-part post on how the government knows we’re not alone,” she says. “And you’re a large portion of the proof.”
“Holy shit, there’s a video!” Jax points.
Holly clicks “Play” and there I am, talking on my phone like a fucking moron while some guy is videotaping me without my knowledge in my own driveway. “Shit.”
“QFT,” Holly says as she and Jax watch.
That’s an awful clear view of my profile. And the shot when he gets me turning, I’m right there in living color, scowling at him before I raise my hand to block the camera.
“Well,” Holly says. “I mean, no way will people buy all this silliness.”
“Right,” Jax says. Then he scoffs, “Aliens? That’s just crazy.”
“I kill demons, Jax.”
They just look at me, then at each other. And they burst into hysterical giggles. They laugh so hard they have to lean on each other to keep from falling over.
I’m so glad my unveiling is hilarious to some people.
I sigh and stand. “Thanks for the touching moment, guys.” Then I leave them to their amusement and go find Sid on the couch.
He looks up from the book he’s reading and smiles at me when I come into the living room. “Sounds like you kids are having fun.”
“They are,” I say with a smile as I let myself feel the bright energy in the room. Then I notice a woman and a little girl sitting on the loveseat, watching a cartoon on TV. Tray’s mom and sister. “Hey,” I say, feeling suddenly awkward. I sit down next to Sid.
The mom studies me with caution. She looks a little like a frazzled scarecrow, her hair wisping up with escaped dark curls, prominent collarbones, thin arms. The little girl on her lap smiles—Selena.
She slips free from her mom and bounces across the room to stand in front of me. I think Tray said she was five or six, but I can’t remember. Her cheeks are like a doll’s and her eyes are bright amber. She’s wearing a tutu and cowboy boots, and the thick dark-brown braids on the sides of her head are tied awkwardly with green ribbons, like she put them in herself.
“Hello,” she says.
I lean forward so I’m at eye level with her. “Hello, Selena.”
She looks surprised that I know her name. “Are you my brother’s friend?”
“Yeah.”
“I have two brothers.” She purses her lips in thought. “Which one do you like?”
“Both.”
She smiles widely. “I never met Jax’s friend that’s a boy. He only likes girls.”
Sid chuckles beside me.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
“Aidan.”
“And what’s your favorite color?”
“Green.”
“Mine, too! See, I put green in my hair.” She tugs on one of the ribbons.
“Wow,” I say, “that’s pretty.”
“I know. I’m always pretty.”
I make a serious face. “Oh, of course.”
She nods and then looks over to Sid. She points at him. “Is that your daddy?”
I turn to Sid. “Uh, no.”
“Do you have a daddy? I don’t have one.”
“Selena,” her mother says sharply. “Get over here and sit. Leave the poor men alone.”
“It’s all right,” I say, not liking the shadow that fills the little girl’s eyes when she has to go back to her mom. I try and give the mother a friendly smile, but she just scowls at me, then looks at the TV like she’s actually watching the cartoon sponge flip burgers at the Krusty Krab. I give Selena a smile, and she brightens up again.
I tur
n back to Sid. “You look so much better.” And he does, his cheeks are still sunken, but he’s less pale, and his eyes are a little brighter.
“I feel better,” he says, patting his chest, like he’s proud. “I’ve been a good boy and eaten everything Holly brings me.”
Holly comes into the entry, hands on her hips. “Don’t buy it! He’s been moaning since I made him lunch, saying I’m giving him too much food.”
Sid turns to me. “She’s going to make me round as a beach ball.”
“I can hear you,” she says in a singsong voice.
Hurried footsteps descend the stairs. “Do I hear Aidan?” Raul asks.
“In here,” I say.
He pokes his head around the archway and motions that he needs to talk. I check with Sid. “You okay for a sec?”
He glances toward Holly. “I’m not sure.” But then he winks.
I stand and follow Raul out, relief settling in a little more. Kara’s okay. Sid is looking better. Now we just need to find Rebecca.
When Raul and I are heading up the stairs, I notice Finger by his bedroom door, looking lost. “Hey, Finger,” I call down. He turns and I see the worry lines in his forehead. “You okay, dude?”
He glances down at the floor, then back up to me. He shivers a little and I sense his fear. But before I can ask more, he just walks away, heading through the door that leads to the basement.
I turn to Raul and whisper so Sid won’t hear, “Is this about Finger?”
Raul frowns at me. “No, why?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, taking another glance over the railing to where Finger was standing.
“He’s been acting skittish for the last hour.” Raul says, like he’s just realizing it.
That’s weird. I make a note to talk to him as soon as I’m done talking to Raul.
When we make it to the landing I ask, “What’s going on? Why all the caginess?”
“Because I don’t want Sid to think I broke it. I just got accepted into this club.” He opens Kara’s door and walks into the room, motioning to the window. There’s no glass in the top half of the frame.
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