by L. C. Davis
Projected on the wall from some light source that probably didn’t actually exist was a scene I couldn’t have dreamed up even in my worst nightmares. Dennis was strapped to a table, bound by thick leather restraints that wrapped around his chest, his torso and his thighs. He was shirtless, wearing only jeans and shoes, and there were jagged bite marks roughly the shape of a human mouth covering his unnaturally pale flesh. Gone was his sun kissed complexion. It looked like someone had sucked all the blood out of him and when I saw the cause of his terror come into the frame, I realized someone had.
It was Asher. It didn’t look like him, not in the form I was used to, but I recognized the pale blue fog hovering over the surface of his skin. His hair was longer and his face was different, and he looked about ten years younger, but he could have been Dennis’ brother. He could have been, but he wasn’t. One look at him and no one would have mistaken him for a human. His eyes were solid gray and the light reflected off of them like sheet metal, but there was none coming from inside. They were the emptiest eyes I’d ever seen, but it was the two bonelike protrusions coming from his back that shocked me the most. Stretched out across thin white ligaments attached to the bone were transparent gray wings that were torn and tattered along the edges. The monster’s face was eerily beautiful but utterly devoid of expression or life, and for a moment, I thought it was a mask, Then, his lips parted slowly into a wicked smile, revealing two solid rows of angular teeth that all came down to needle-fine points and stretched all the way across either side of his mouth.
Dennis strained against the leather straps in renewed earnest and as Asher’s long, clawed hand stretched out to wrap around his neck, Dennis let out a guttural curse the monster soon choked to croaking. “The Dark Moon is risen. You know what that means, don’t you?” He released Dennis’ throat and caressed his face with the back of his hand, soft and tender. “Only one of us can exist in this world. You’ve had your time and I’ve had my fill of your blood. It’s time for you to go.”
Dennis’ eyes filled with rage and he spit in Asher’s face, defiant to the last. “You won’t get away with it. They’ll know something is wrong, they’ll know it’s not me. You can wear my skin, but you’ll always be a freak.”
Asher slowly wiped his face and stared down at his hand, frowning. His voice was as dull and monotonous as his gaze. “Even if they do notice the difference, no one is going to miss you. Your own mother won’t mourn your death.”
“Daniel will,” he seethed, still straining. “He’ll see right through your bullshit.”
“This Daniel,” he murmured listlessly. “He knows you well?”
“Better than anyone.”
“And you believe he’ll avenge you.”
“Yeah, I fucking do.”
“You believe he loves you.”
The accusation seemed to take Dennis by surprise, but he sneered. “Yeah. He does.”
“Then Daniel is a fool,” he said thoughtfully. “Your world is a simple place. Perhaps I’ll make him love me if I get bored enough. Or perhaps I’ll kill him. If he loves you, he can’t be of much worth.”
“No one will ever love you, not now, not if you take my body, not ever.”
My fists clenched at my sides as I struggled to contain my rage. I knew what was coming next and I didn’t want to see it, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away. I couldn’t stop listening.
Asher tilted his head unnaturally to one side. “Take your body? No, you misunderstand. I’m a changeling, not a demon. I’m not going to possess you, I’m going to consume you.”
Fresh horror came across Dennis’ face as we both realized his fate at the same moment. I shook my head and stepped back, falling over the edge of the rug and onto my back, my eyes fixed wide and horrified as the monster loomed over his prey. His awful mouth stretched open, teeth gleaming white through a haze of blue. I watched as Asher tore into Dennis’ throat, tearing the flesh off like a wrapper to expose the windpipe. Dennis’ screams turned to gurgling as Asher swallowed the hunk of flesh he’d taken. Blood was everywhere, but not nearly enough of it for his jugular to have been torn open. Enough of his throat had been torn away that I could still see it and my stomach clenched in disgust as I realized Asher wasn’t going for a gruesome but quick kill. He was eating his prey alive. He tore into Dennis’ stomach and I retched as the sound of those sharp teeth tearing through flesh and sinew mingled with Dennis’ anguished cries, his pleas for mercy.
Eventually, the cries stopped, but the sounds of the monster feeding on the carcass kept on for far too long. Long after the beer I’d drank had all come up, I was still coughing up bile until the sounds stopped and I dared to look at the screen, trembling in rage and horror. Asher was facing the camera, if there was one, and his bloody face turned to a blank mask again. The blue fog gradually began to recede and his features morphed, bones cracking and skin shifting until the face staring back at me was sickeningly familiar. The teeth were the last to go. He closed his mouth and his lips slid slowly into a stiff smile that was almost as painful to watch as it mocked the man who’d worn it first. The man I loved. Asher’s prey.
I’d kissed those lips so many times.
Somehow, this whole time, I’d let myself believe there was a chance that Dennis was still alive somewhere, in some capacity. That Asher had just possessed him and that it was for the best, because he was still here, but he couldn’t hurt anyone else the way he’d hurt Jess. Now I knew.
The image of Asher smiling froze on screen and I could feel someone standing behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to move, so I just stayed there on my hands and knees, shuddering and staring at that awful, inhuman smile.
“Not quite the cuddly little toymakers the movies would have you believe, are they?”
Locke’s voice was like a nail being driven into my temple, but it was nothing compared to the ringing in my ears. I got to my feet without really knowing how and turned to face him. “You knew. You knew what he was, what he’d done.”
“There are all kinds of monsters in this world, Daniel,” he said, folding his arms. “Be glad I was kind enough to show you the truth before you gave him your heart.”
Too late for that, I thought. Locke was coming toward me but I was frozen in place. His hand came to rest against my cheek, cool and gentle. “Be glad I care enough not to let you become that.”
My face contorted in anger, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away from him. His touch felt like the only thing holding me together. “I could never be that.”
“Oh, yes, you could.” His voice was soft, full of sympathy. “You could be so much worse, if you gave in. I keep you fed, I help you manage the bloodlust in ways he can’t, no matter how much you love him,” he murmured, resting his hand over my heart. “All it would take is one time. If you gave in once, the thirst, the hunger would take over and then you really would be a monster. Just like him. Maybe worse.”
I shuddered. I didn’t want to believe it, but some part of me knew it was true. Locke never lied. Manipulated, stretched and twisted the truth until it was no longer recognizable, yes, but he never lied.
“See, there it is,” he said, taking my face in his hands, his gaze soft and pitying. “The rage. I can feel it, burning underneath your cold, dead skin. You want to kill him.”
“He fucking ate Dennis!” I cried, my voice guttural. He was right. I was turning into a monster.
“And what do you think will happen when you kill him? You’ll go mad, and even I won’t be able to bring you back. My poor, sweet Daniel,” he soothed, stroking my cheek. He took my hand and pulled me slowly, gently, leading me down the hall toward a room. I followed him because every step in the direction he wanted me to go was one I wouldn’t be taking toward my own damnation. I’d all but forgotten my plan to get Holden and get out.
Locke opened the door and kissed me, softly at first, then passionately. I could feel his touch cooling the rage, drawing it out like he was sucking poison from my veins. I le
t out a strangled sob against his lips, the one I’d been holding back the entire time I watched that awful film, and I took him into my arms, slamming the door shut before I threw him against it. He took the violence, absorbed it, tangling his fingers in my hair as he kissed me again.
“Let me help you,” he whispered, his breath teasing my neck. “Give it to me. The anger, the rage, everything you want to do to him. I can take it. I won’t let you hurt anyone else. I won’t let you turn into a monster.”
I grabbed his hands and pinned his wrists to the door, looking him over as I contemplated taking him up on his offer. I’d never felt rage like this, not even after my parents died in that car crash. I’d never needed to cause someone pain because I felt so much of it that it had to come out somehow or I was going to explode. In that moment, I understood Dennis--the real Dennis--better than I ever had.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why do you care what happens to me?”
He frowned, as if the question hurt him deeply. “Daniel,” he murmured. “You’re mine. I brought you back from the dead. You’re my creation, my responsibility, mine to shape and guide. I told you I had great plans for you, and I meant it. I may be a demon, but I’m not heartless. It hurts me to see you suffer so unnecessarily.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me from the beginning?” I asked, my teeth gritted. “Why did you let it go this far?”
“You pulled away from me, remember? I can’t read your mind, Daniel, and you saw how even Remiel was afraid of him. I had no way of knowing what he would do if I told you to stay away from him.”
“You could have told me,” I growled. “You obviously have no qualms about tricking me.”
“For you,” he murmured. “Always in your best interest, and Holden’s, and Nick’s.”
“How was making me think Holden was saying any of that shit supposed to ‘help’ any of us?” It was so easy to lose track of reality, so easy to be seduced by his words and his touch. Maybe some part of me wanted to be.
“I needed the book,” he said quietly. “It’s not safe for him to have it.”
“Why?” I demanded. “I’m sick of only getting answers when it’s convenient for you, for him. You want me to trust you, then fucking talk.”
“You’re so worried about the secrets I’m keeping. Have you ever stopped to think about his?”
I frowned. “Holden?”
“He shut down when Nick dug too deep. What do you think will happen if he finds the answers he’s looking for in that book, Daniel?”
“You mean if he finds out about you.”
“I’m not the only one who made Isadore Marrin’s naughty list,” he sneered. “There are secrets in this town that go even further back than I do. Holden needs to stay focused now more than ever, and finding that book would just be kicking the hornet’s nest.”
“And for once, I’m supposed to believe you don’t want to stir things up?”
“There’s a difference between causing mischief and igniting mayhem. You don’t have to trust me, Daniel, but if you believe nothing else, believe that I would never do anything to hurt Holden after all I’ve done to help him reach his potential.” He swept his thumb across my cold lips and turned them warm. “You’re part of that. You’re one of the Seven and despite all my teasing, you are absolutely irreplaceable. After all, you’re one of a kind.”
“Shut up,” I snarled, pinning him again, tired of his cloying. Tired of everything. I pressed my forehead against his and felt his flesh give in my grasp, supple and fair. There would be bruises in the morning, but only if he let them form. “Just shut the fuck up for one second.”
He did, but it didn’t help me think any more clearly as I’d hoped. If anything, having him this close but silent just made me even more aware of my shuddering breaths and his steady heartbeat. He kissed me and I realized what an idiot I’d been to think I had escaped retribution. That I had escaped him. You couldn’t escape something you ran back to, and he’d known I would from the moment I told him things were over between us. He’d known this would happen because he knew me better than myself. He’d known about Asher and everything else, and as long as I kept thinking I could outplay him, outsmart him, he was just going to keep using that knowledge to punish me.
Now I knew that’s exactly what that movie was. He could try to cover it up and pretty it up all he wanted, but it was retribution, pure and simple. A punishment for a pet who’d stepped out of line and forgotten his master for a moment. Not that it mattered. No matter what his intentions were, I knew what I’d seen and I could never unsee it. All I could do was find someone to take the anger out on, and in lieu of the one who deserved it, I had a willing target right in front of me.
Fourteen
HOLDEN
When I woke after finally falling asleep, I ran into Daniel on my way out the door. Literally. He mumbled an apology but when I’d asked him if he was alright, he’d simply nodded and said he had to get to work. When I ran into Locke in the kitchen, he was humming a chipper little tune and there were only a limited number of reasons why he was ever in a good mood. Given the fact that Daniel had rushed out of the house at the crack of dawn and had made it a point not to look me in the eye, I had a feeling I knew exactly what that reason was.
As far as I knew, Daniel and Asher were dating, but I had enough drama to deal with without making that my business, so I grabbed my coffee and headed out to man the shop. Having an actual workspace was admittedly an improvement upon mixing tinctures and creams in my tiny studio, and we were getting enough foot traffic that I was toying with the idea of scaling back my online business. It wasn’t like I needed the money, but manning the store was oddly relaxing.
Most people in Stillwater didn’t believe in God, let alone magic, so most of our visitors came just to look around for giggles. I tried to steer them away from the potions that worked when Locke wasn’t around, but mostly they seemed interested in taking selfies near the old books and the creepier curios Locke had hanging from the rafters.
At least selling things in a store meant I spent less time running to the post office. Despite my best attempts at letting things go back to normal, my relationship with Nick had been tense at best for the last few weeks. I’d tried to let it go, I really had, but it was hard when the thing that hurt me most was something he didn’t feel the need to change. And why should he? Nick had been keeping secrets long before I came along.
I was beginning to wonder if I’d made a mistake, not by letting our friendship turn into a relationship but by letting things get as serious as they had as soon as they had. The day crawled by and the few times the door opened, I found myself hoping in vain that it was Nick. These days, he’d been as scarce at the house as he had been at my apartment, only I couldn’t blame a ward for his distance. Just myself.
The bell chimed over the door as soon as I had decided it would be safe to eat lunch and I quickly stowed my veggie burger behind the counter and took a sip of water. “Mmh, hi! Welcome to uh, the Magic Shoppe.”
The kid who’d just walked in froze and stared at me like I was about to turn him into a frog or whatever. To be fair, the town rumors had taken on more supernatural overtones ever since the shop had opened. I recognized him immediately as the younger son from the quaint little vampire family that had moved into an equally quaint two-story on the outskirts of town. As usual, he was wearing the post-goth uniform he seemed to have adopted in an attempt to subvert his family’s preppy aesthetic. A dark gray Sabbath T-Shirt, jeans so tight that even his scrawny legs strained seemed to strain the fabric, a bag slung over his shoulder that looked like it had cat ears and a silver collar he was way too young to wear in its proper context and a bit too old to feign innocence about. Today, he was wearing his locs pulled back in a ponytail with a few dyed teal pieces hanging down to frame his cherubic face.
He looked around the store, his dark eyes wide and I heard him gulp as he looked at one of the skulls sitting on the window ledge. I was pretty sure it was
fake, like most of Locke’s props were, but people did seem to enjoy the camp.
“Hi,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. God, this kid was precious. “You’re still open?”
“For another hour,” I said, leaning over the counter to offer my hand. “Jaylen, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking surprised as he shook my hand. “You’re the werewolf’s boyfriend, aren’t you?”
“I am, but I usually just go by Holden.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. His cool brown skin turned red on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. So vampires could blush. I found myself wondering about Daniel.
At least now I knew why the vampire was scared of me. The few times I’d seen Jaylen’s family in town, they had made it a point to finish up whatever they were doing quickly and I’d assumed it was because of Locke. Maybe the tensions between vampires and wolves weren’t exaggerated, after all.
“It’s fine,” I said with a smile. “Do your parents know you’re here?”
“No,” he said, toying with a strap on his backpack. “They don’t really like this stuff.” He glanced pointedly around the shop.
“Yeah, my parents were the same way. Guess I can kind of understand. It all looks a bit creepy.”
“I like it,” he murmured wistfully. “Is it real? The potions and stuff, I mean.”
“Some of them. Vampires don’t do magic?”
His eyes widened and he glanced over his shoulder, like he was worried someone would overhear us. “No…not really. Not my family, at least.”
“Well, if you’re interested, we’ve got a lot of books. Most of the halfway decent ones aren’t in English and most of the ones that are have a lot of fluff, but there are some interesting bits in between.”
He eyed the bookshelves longingly. “I shouldn’t...if my parents found anything like that in my room, they’d be pissed.”
He seemed a bit old for his parents to be keeping such a tight rein on what he read, but I was pretty much the last person qualified to speak on decent parenting since I’d never experienced it. “You’re welcome to browse. I won’t tell the shopkeep,” I teased.