"Put me down, Dad," Emma pleaded. "I'm too heavy."
She pushed with both hands and Ren relented. She was right, and he knew it. He let her go and she landed, her feet already moving. She looked back and held out her hand.
Ten years old, and she was already braver than Ren had ever been.
Ren took her hand and they ran for the woods on the far side of the clearing, Ren struggling to keep pace. Something hard raked over metal behind him, like nails grating on chalkboard. Murmurs carried through the trees, haunting voices laced with dread and violence. A clacking sound reverberated, like teeth gnashing against each other, grinding and tapping.
He felt it now, the oppressive weight falling on him. He couldn't tell her everything was fine because it wasn't. He couldn't say no one was going to hurt him. A presence shifted its attention, and Ren knew it watched him. Knew that he couldn't outrun it.
"Everything's gonna be fine," he said breathlessly. Uttered the lie as a wave of heat washed over him.
No. He held Emma's hand tight and sprinted for the trees, the slithering voices following him, boring into his head.
Wait for us. No, why run? She is soooo pretty, such a pretty little thing. Stop, so we can look upon her. Stop, so we can look upon you.
We are hungry. Hungry. Hungryhungryhungry.
They became a ceaseless torrent, insistent and overpowering. He couldn't keep them out, couldn't shut them up, no more than he could stop thinking. Ren opened his mouth, a cry on his lips, then clamped down on his tongue to stifle the sound. He felt them all around him, burrowing into him, madness and claws and an agony he could never escape.
Motion caught his eye, off to his left. He glanced in that direction, wished to high Heaven he hadn't seen them. Eyes. Yellows and reds flickering behind the trees, burning like geysers of flame jetting from the darkness. A low growl sounded.
He took another step and cried out as a piercing burn sliced across the back of his calf. On instinct he let go of Emma's hand, pushing her away as he began to fall. He stumbled once, then gasped, and tumbled to the ground.
He jumped to his feet, coughing from the ash that covered half his face. He bit back a curse as his right leg almost gave out under him. He sucked in his breath and grit his teeth against the searing throb in his calf.
Keep moving.
Emma had stopped a few strides away. Ren opened his mouth to tell her to run, but she wasn't looking at him.
Something blew out a breath, a hideous, unnamable odor wafting over him, and he turned. He tried to swallow and couldn't, his mouth suddenly dry.
The demon towered over Ren.
Eyes the color of jaundiced skin glared at him. Bone horns curved out from the demon's skull, stained red at the tips. The demon's skin glistened in the moonlight, several spikes jabbing into the sky from its shoulders. Pustules ran down its arms and chest, oozing something wet and dark. The creature’s long, thin legs bent backwards at the knee, like some sort of perverse imitation of an animal's hind legs. The air surrounding it shimmered, like the fevered haze of an arid desert.
Ren heard branches crack behind him, then snorts, low growls, and chittering teeth. Heard his own despairing sigh. A smile split the demon's face, revealing rows of dagger-like teeth, blood dripping from its snout. One of its hooves stamped against the ground, raising a cloud of ash.
The smile turned into a leer, the foul creature's face hovering inches from Ren. "You should have listened to her, son of clay."
The demon's words burned into Ren as it spoke, and he wanted nothing more than to squeeze his eyes shut. The thing's voice echoed in his head, its menace wrapped tightly around him, pounding against his skull. He wanted to run. Wanted to run so bad that his legs twitched, but his feet wouldn't budge.
"Let. Him. Go."
Ren looked over his shoulder. Emma stood off to one side, facing the demon, blood streaming from her nose.
Her fists clenched. "Vadat." The word hung in the air, thick and heavy.
"Let him go?" The demon's rasping laughter echoed in the clearing. "Your words have no power over me."
Ren turned back to face the demon, his startled yelp cut off as the creature's hand swung forward and lifted him clear of the earth. The ground twisted and spun in his vision, a scream ringing in his ears. A jarring impact took the air from his lungs, and he thought he heard something pop.
He didn't know where he was, he only knew that he had to move. Had to run. He tried to push himself to his feet and he cried out at the fire in his shoulder, a pain so intense that he thought he might black out. His arm collapsed under his own weight, and he slumped onto his side. He blinked away the tears and wiped the ash from his face.
"Em?" Just opening his mouth hurt, the voice dull and distant. He tasted blood on his lips. "Emma?" he said, louder this time, his ears ringing.
He shook his head and looked up again.
Emma stood still, her arms hanging limp by her side. Blood dripped from her chin and her face had gone slack. She stared out of black ovals, the moonlight reflecting off the shimmer of her eyes.
Ren hissed as claws dug into his ankle. The world turned upside down, and the ground swept away. The food bag spilled out, cans toppling onto the ground. He found himself face-to-face with the demon, its open maw close enough that Ren could see the raw, open sores that ran down the creature's tongue.
"Just take me," Ren said, his words slurred. "Let her go, please."
The demon laughed, a rumble deep within its chest that shook Ren. "Let her go? Do you not know? She is ours, fool."
Baleful eyes glared into Ren's. "She has always been ours."
"No!" Ren struggled then, twisted and kicked. They couldn't have her. A small part of him prayed that she was gone, that maybe whatever sickness had come over her might finish the job, so that the demons couldn't have her. A rush of despair swelled within at the thought, and Ren began to sob. He lashed out, his fist slamming into the creature's neck. The dark liquid that ran down the demon's skin spattered against Ren's arm.
The demon's claws dug deeper into his ankle. The demon snarled, and then paused, a frown spreading across its face as it stared past Ren. Its eyes widened.
"Malakhi," it whispered.
Unsure what the demon had meant, Ren swiveled his body around. He spotted a light through the trees, a point so bright, so blinding, that he had to shield his eyes with one hand. The light came closer, rays shining past tree limbs, and the chittering sounds that surrounded him rose into panicked shrieks. The demon roared and let go of his ankle.
Ren hit the ground with a muffled cry. Dizziness washed over him, and the pain faded with his vision. He heard another roar, followed by a flash of light, a thumping sound, and then darkness.
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Ren dreamed of Emma. He saw her playing in snow, his sweet little girl jumping and sliding. She made snow angels, swinging her arms and legs like a frantic hummingbird. He tried to place where they were, but couldn't remember. It didn't matter. All that mattered was Emma, how happy she looked, the beaming smile on her face. He laughed with her as she rolled over on the pile of snow.
And then she stopped. Her hood fell away from her face, revealing her eyes. She stared at him with a cold, humorless smile, her eyes dark pools that threatened to suck him in. A black, viscous liquid pooled around her eyes and slowly streamed down her cheeks. Blood dripped from her nose, plopping against the white snow.
Ren called her name, his voice little more than a rasp, and reached out for her. He shouted it, yelled it until his ears rang, each time a dagger of panic stabbing into his heart.
Shadows appeared around her prone form, long, delicate arms and legs. A shadow turned to face Ren, and he saw the burning eyes and wicked smile. A shrouded, swirling hand reached down for Emma, dark claws extended towards her body. The snow around her had turned a dark shade of red, only he could see now that it wasn't a pile of snow at all.
He cried out, his voice so hoarse it was barely a whisper, his f
ingers so achingly close to Emma's small fingers. Something inside him snapped. Before he could open his mouth to scream a tide of darkness swept him away.
▪▪▪
Ren's eyelids strained to open, the world overhead a dizzying blur.
His whole body seemed to hurt. Each breath was an effort, pushing against the tight soreness in his chest. He thought he could feel his ribs creak as his chest expanded, then a flash of pain sprouted from his side as he slowly let his breath out.
He'd never felt so sore in his life.
His shoulder burned, every twinge like jabbing a dull blade into his armpit, sending daggers that flared up and down his arm. His legs didn't seem to have fared much better, a dull ache echoing down to his bare feet.
Emma.
"What was that?"
Ren paused and frowned at the voice. He hadn't realized he'd said her name out loud. A form loomed over him, coalesced into a face. He thought it was a man, but he couldn't quite be sure, his vision still murky. The sharp details eluded him.
Maybe more than just his vision, the way his head was pounding.
He blinked, licked his lips. "Emma." His voice sounded soft and far away.
"That your girl's name?"
Definitely a man now. The voice was low and rough, and Ren spotted stubble running down the man's jawline, leading up to a dark goatee lined with gray.
Ren nodded and squeezed his eyes shut at the wincing throb that ran up his neck. He brought his hand up to his temple, rubbing at the incessant ache. He thought about trying to sit up, and the mere idea sent a wave of nausea up his gut.
"Don't worry, she's okay," the man said. "She was pretty scared, but that's the worst of it. For her, anyway."
He patted Ren on the shoulder, sending another flare of agony down his arm. "Get some rest. Still a couple of hours before we get there."
That sounded good, rest. His Emma was alive and okay. He could rest now.
Ren lay still and drifted off, thankful that the pain eased as he slipped back into sleep. Slumber took him, and the question of where there was slipped away with his consciousness.
▪▪▪
Ren opened his eyes, blinking the sleep away. Staring up at a bland, cracked ceiling for several seconds, he realized he had no idea where he was. Only that he was lying in a comfortable bed and he had a roof over his head. There were no holes in the roof, no scorched walls, no piles of refuse.
Wait. The impact of the thought hit him. Where was he?
He moved to sit up, and bared his teeth as he realized his left arm had been tied up in a sling wrapped around his shoulder. He slumped back down and closed his eyes.
"Lucky you didn't break anything."
Ren turned back to his right to face the voice and winced at the soreness in his neck.
A black man leaned back against the far wall, a closed door beside him. Even leaning back, he was so tall that he nearly dwarfed the door frame. A tight green shirt barely concealed the man's massive chest, shirt sleeves stretched around his thick shoulders. A silver chain wrapped around his neck glinted, a pendant drooping below the neck of his shirt. He wore military fatigue pants fashioned for the desert, the lower legs tucked inside tan combat boots.
He stared at Ren with penetrating eyes, his dark hair tightly cropped, his angular face clean-shaven. "Real lucky."
The way he said it, the uneasy, questioning tone behind his voice, Ren figured there must have been some obscure meaning behind the man's words, but right now his own question wasn't quite so obscure. He was too tired, too sore, too unnerved for obscure.
"Right. Where's my daughter?"
The man's tongue played between his teeth, and he sniffed, like he was pondering how he was going to answer.
Ren shifted in the narrow bed, and grunted as he swung his legs off the edge. He noticed the cloth wrapped around his calf. He leaned forward on his good arm, hoping his face didn't betray the surge of pain as he moved. "Listen, I don't want to play this game, whatever it is. Where's—"
"She's fine, man. She's outside with some of the others," the man said, motioning towards the door with his head. "Wouldn't leave you alone, so I promised her I'd keep an eye on you."
Another bed sat across from Ren, a white sheet pulled up over the scrawny pillow. A wooden crate sat against the far wall, an old, dented Coleman lantern sitting on top. Harsh daylight shone through a small window above the bed.
The man pushed off the wall and strode over to the empty bed. The springs squealed as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. The pendant slipped out from under the man's shirt, a gold-plated cross. "Figured it'd be a good time for us to have a little chat."
Ren's brow rose. "Oh, yeah? About what?"
He didn't like the way this conversation was going. Sure, this man, and whoever else was with him, had likely saved his life, and the life of his daughter.
Not likely, he thought. Me and Em would be rotting in the earth right now, or worse, if not for these people.
The simple fact was, Ren had been completely helpless at the end. He couldn't protect his daughter, and these people could. Didn't matter how much he loved her, or how he'd die for her at the mere word. His job was to keep her safe, and he'd failed.
She lived now because these people made it so.
Of course, that didn't mean that he was okay with being interrogated. And that's how this felt, right from the start.
"About you. About you and the kid," the man said.
Ren shifted under his stare, growing uncomfortable under his unflinching attention, and waited for him to continue.
"You had a pack of demons on you, and one of 'em an actual Grigori. I don't—"
"Wait, what?" Ren interrupted. "A Gri-what? You have names for the damn things?"
"Grigori. One of the Fallen." It was the black man's turn to shoot Ren a quizzical look. "One of the 200 angels cast out of Heaven. You don't know this?"
"All I know is that demons roam the earth, angels hunt them, and whoever's left in Heaven doesn't seem to give a shit what happens to the rest of us." He watched the big man's face go cold, his eyes dark, and wondered how far he'd gone over the line.
"Oh, yeah? That all you know?"
"And I know that you're keeping me in here, and I'm still waiting to see my daughter." Ren resisted the urge to shake his head at himself. Push, Ren. Keep pushing, see what it gets you.
Katie had always told him that for a skinny white guy, he sure had a big mouth. She'd rolled her eyes when he told her it was only because he was fast enough to get away with it.
He didn't feel that fast anymore.
The man's hand went to the pendant at his neck, his palm swallowing the cross. "This is what I don't understand. We save your bacon," he rose to his feet and took a step towards Ren. "We save your bacon, against a pack of demons, a damned Grigori leading the charge."
Ren shrugged, and immediately regretted the instinctive motion as searing fire ran up his shoulder and neck. "Makes two of us, then, because I don't understand either. What's your point?"
The man took another step, and Ren's nerves began tingling. He stopped in front of Ren and knelt on one knee, his face dangerously close to Ren's personal space. It was impossible for Ren to miss that the man still towered over him. "That we saved you at all. I've seen them, seen what they do. I've seen what they leave behind."
He rolled the pendant between his fingers. "What I want to know is, what makes you so special?"
Ren opened his mouth, and the man moved. He moved so fast that Ren almost missed his thick fingers squeeze around the pendant. He was on his knee one second, and the next he had his forearm pressed against Ren's chest, slamming him back into the mattress.
Something flashed in Ren's vision, and he blinked, his eyes watering. His breath caught in his throat and he froze.
The man held a long sword, the point aimed at Ren's head, the blade gleaming in the sunlight from the window. Ren heard a faint hiss, and a line of blue flame sprung up along the e
dge of the sword, swirling and flashing.
Ren swallowed, and raised his good hand slowly over his head. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. His voice was little more than a wheeze when he spoke. "I don't know what just happened, but I swear that I'm no more special than anyone else. Promise."
"This blade is called Lahat," the man said through gritted teeth. "Its fire will burn any who oppose it. If there is any lie to you, any corruption, I will know it, and I will destroy you."
The flame danced, seething along the blade. Ren flinched away, but felt no heat, only the unbearable pressure of the man's weight on top of his chest. He felt lightheaded, the ceiling receding in his vision. It didn't make any sense, but Ren had the sudden uneasy thought that the flames were aware of him. Watching, sensing, probing.
"Something's wrong with you, I can smell it on you. What did the Grigori want with you?"
"N-Nothing." Ren shook his head and forced a breath out. "Look, I'm not here to cause you any trouble. I just want to make sure my little girl is okay."
The man frowned, then nodded. The pressure eased off as he got to his feet, and Ren let out a loud, relieved sigh.
"We'll make sure you and your kid are okay, let you heal up," he said. "But this is our home. Don't go thinking it's yours. Because it's not."
The towering man lowered the sword. Blue flame played along the blade, rivulets of fire that hissed and sparked. His free hand rose to the pendant hanging from his neck and he closed his eyes. Ren's ears popped, and the blade flashed in the man's hand, disappearing like Ren had simply imagined it.
For a moment Ren couldn't think. He'd seen a flaming weapon, and then it was gone, the big man's hand suddenly empty. Even with demons and angels walking the earth, the world now seemed much larger than he'd ever realized. "How did you do that? Where am I?"
A thin smile cracked the giant's lips. He flexed his fingers, and looked down at the empty palm of his hand. "Welcome to Haven. Name's Kevin. Be seeing you." He turned back and headed for the door.
"Don't you want to know my name?"
"No." Kevin looked over his massive shoulder and shook his head. "I don't care what your name is."
Ash & Flame: Season One Page 2