Rise of Midnight

by SARA FREITES

  “Interfering once again,” Arlos fizzed over my head.

  “Let her go,” Blake demanded.

  “Your request is laughable, Soul!” Arlos shot back, then spoke into my hair so closely I felt his cold lips brushing against my right ear. “Little human, I hope you aren’t expecting any more company.”

  I heard the French doors slam shut behind us. The echoing sound made me wince as Arlos used his demon telekinesis to manipulate them. He placed his blueish hand flat on the ground beside my hips. He knocked against me when he did this. A lock of my hair fell over my collarbone, and I couldn’t help but gape at it—the ends looked as if they’d been dipped in bleach. Gradually, the discoloration inched its way toward my scalp, perfectly matching the white streak I’d had all these years.

  My eyes were drawn to a shallow amethyst-toned mist that began seeping from the floorboards. The mist engulfed the entire floor, and from it, thick blackened roots busted from the baseboards and from under the doors. They crawled up the walls. Ridged crimson cracks opened up on the roots as they grew until they pierced the ceiling. Like tall, branchless trees, they encircled the entire room, leaving us surrounded by an eerie, forest-like scene. An oppression fell over me then, a feeling of absolute hopelessness. Something in my head kept telling me Arlos was in control now, that there was nothing we could do. I shook my head of these thoughts, recognizing that they weren’t mine.

  “You’ve got what you want. Just let her go,” Blake ordered, but I think he and I both knew Arlos would never agree to it.

  “This is no longer about the daggers,” Arlos spat as he spoke. His arm slithered around me and reeled me in with my back against his chest as he lifted me to my feet. “As you see. The human has been rendered completely useless to me, thanks to the vampires. Her transformation will only bring Latresma upon us. Therefore, I now have just as much use for her as I do for you.”

  His arm pressed so tight around my waist that I could hardly breathe. I tried wiggling free, but he squeezed me even tighter. A pain swelled in my diaphragm as I struggled for air. I dropped the Soleil Dagger.

  “Arlos, stop!” Blake shouted.

  Arlos let up on the pressure. Air filled my lungs. Arlos quietly laughed as I coughed. He could have easily crushed me, but it seemed he had an adoration for games.

  “You want her so badly?” Arlos asked Blake against my hair. “You can have her if you can take her from me. Even with the demonic powers I sense you’ve awakened, you never have and never will measure up to the strength of a demon.”

  Arlos stood and stepped away to face Blake, leaving me falling weak to my side.I could hear the daggers while their blades dragged over the hardwood floor. They shot across the air all on their own, disappearing into the shadows lingering in the back of the large room. The fact that Arlos had enough confidence to throw aside the daggers so close to midnight was a cause for worry in itself.

  “Blake, don’t,” I pleaded as I feebly sat up.

  “No, no. There’s no point in trying to talk him out of it,” Arlos seethed. “He’s the one who helped you escape after all the trouble we went through to get you here. It’s no surprise to me that he has no qualms about fighting against his clan members now. Still, Soul.” He tilted his head at Blake as he spoke. “One might wonder why you haven’t yet learned.”

  Blake knelt and extended his arms as if to push something away from him. An astonishing blast of blue fire erupted from Arlos’ being, engulfing him. He howled in pain. The demon collapsed with blue flames singeing his clothes but then stood with the fire fading from him. Smoke rose from his skin while his burns healed.

  “I’m impressed!” Arlos burst. “You can manipulate hellfire the way your brothers can. The fires of hell are very powerful, aren’t they? Even against me. It’s a shame it’s something you can’t continuously call forth. It astounds me—the disappointment you’ve been. After all the time I’ve invested in you, begging you to awaken those powers for me, you go along and do it for someone else, for a human, of all things. No matter. You are a part of me, Soul, and that means that I can take those abilities away. Even so, it will make no difference whether you have them or not as I will end you all too easily.”

  Arlos lifted his hand, causing Blake to shoot through the air. When he landed, he withheld an outcry of pain and rolled onto his side. A small blue light surfaced from his abdomen. The light grew in intensity before firing from his body and traveling across the room. I shielded my face as it exploded against Arlos’ palm. The demon withdrew his now glowing hand into his own chest as if holding a physical object against himself. The light disappeared into him. Blake’s warm skin tone faded. The veins at the inside of his elbows and neck bulged, darkening to a light gray against his now pale skin.

  “What did you do to him?” I demanded of Arlos.

  “It is just as I said,” Arlos replied as he came to stand by me. “His demonic powers were not his to keep.” He knelt just behind me.

  Blake slowly gathered himself to his hands and knees, his brow lowering over his fierce eyes. His lips drew back to reveal his bared fangs. I felt Arlos’ ice-cold fingers float across my collarbone. Blake's eyes followed Arlos’ blue hand as it swiped away the two-toned hair hanging over my shoulder.

  “It’s sad, really,” the demon said to me. “He no longer has the strength to fight for you.”

  “You’re a coward—asking him to fight after you weakened him,” I sneered through my fangs. I could taste the bitterness in my voice.

  Pain ripped over the base of my neck. My lips parted with staggering cries. Arlos’ python-like fangs sank into my flesh as he held me tight against him. I even felt them tear through the chain of my necklace. It dropped from my neck and hit the floor. He’d bitten me just atop the healing bite Terry left earlier, the area tender. Warm blood trickled down my chest as I tried to withdraw from the cold, sharp pressure that came close to suffocating me.

  It was as if Arlos had bitten into Blake instead as the evnaut’s expression mirrored mine, full of shock, pain. I screamed. Blake darted for us. Arlos extracted his fangs from my flesh, lifting his right hand. Blake levitated, once again caught in the invisible web of Arlos’ power. The demon swung his arm. By force, Blake went up and through the room and into one of the chandeliers, knocking it down. It crashed on top of him and shattered into hundreds of sheer golden fragments. The tiny glass shards bounced off the cherry wood floor and scattered about as everything became noticeably dim.

  Arlos let me go. I fell to one side with my shoulder and neck muscles writhing in pain. Feeling sluggish, I scooted into the nearest wall. Arlos approached the fallen chandelier yards away. Blake pulled himself from the rubble to his hands and knees. Glass cracked under him while he moved. The shards that would’ve left cuts on the skin of any other, rolled off Blake’s like glistening water droplets.

  Arlos was on him in the blink of an eye, kicking Blake in the face. His upper body twisted in the air, and he fell backward, recovering with an astonishing back-flip and landed on all fours with his arms and legs sprawled. He sprang into the air. Arlos lifted what was left of the shattered chandelier with his demonic telekinesis and hurled it. The heap of glass and metal barely missed Blake.

  Helpless, I waited from the side and unexpectedly found Blake clinging to the vaulted ceiling. And then, he was gone again, lunging for the wall to his left. He bounced off it, using it to propel himself toward Arlos. The demon didn’t have a chance to react before Blake plowed into him with an unimaginable force.

  The two spun through the air together and hit the ground fighting. They tumbled over one another as floorboards popped up around them. Arlos reared back and sank his fangs into Blake's collarbone. Blake fell on his back as Arlos ripped bone and muscle from his body and spat it out. The gaping wound healed immediately, flesh growing over regenerating bone without leaving behind a trace.

  Arlos stood over him with his hands and fingers oddly elongated, forming white jagged claws. He didn’t hesi
tate to drive them into Blake’s stomach and lift him in the air over his head. Arlos threw him. Blood splashed across the floor. Blake toppled over and hit the base of the wall against the gnarled blackened roots. Slowly, he stood. I could see him struggling against the pain of his new injuries but only for a moment. The puncture wounds in his stomach and chest stopped bleeding and closed up—the only evidence left behind were the holes in his black shirt.

  “It’s taking its toll on you, isn’t it? Healing?” Arlos asked eagerly as Blake tried to catch his breath.

  Arlos cut his eyes in my direction. I followed his gaze to the daggers laying against the root base. They sat just a few feet from each other, from me. I reached into my back pocket, feeling the cold metal of my pocketknife. From across the way, Arlos extended his arm. He must’ve knew what I was about to do. His indigo and ivory eyes deepened to crimson. I dove, swiping the daggers off the floor. Arlos’ eyes stalked me as I moved listlessly alongside the roots. It was the first time I’d ever seen them side by side, much less held them both, and their combined weight astounded me. But then, I felt a strange pressure all over me. I felt myself levitating. Panic set in.

  “Arlos, no!” Blake shouted.

  I fell on a table on the other side of the room. It collapsed at my weight. I lost my weak grip on the daggers. They hit the ground and slid apart from one other. The Lumière Dagger hit the root-wall base with a loud clang while the Soleil Dagger skidded in Blake’s direction. I was stunned by the lack of pain I felt, but I remembered I wasn’t quite human anymore. I rolled over the pile of rubble to my hands and knees.

  “Lève-toi, gardien,” I gasped quietly.

  Arlos was there. He stopped in place as soon as he laid eyes on me and glared intensely. The floorboards creaked under my rapidly growing weight. My muscles bulged, my hair darkened to black-violet. Bone-claws sprouted from my fingertips while skin and muscle drew away from my hands. The double-ended, bone-colored blades erupted from my shoulders, elbows and the backs of my knees. Within seconds, there wasn’t a single trace of me left. I let a low, inhuman rumble escape from deep within my throat. I pulled a paw from the mass of table planks and chair legs, stepping onto the floor with my claws clacking against the hardwood. My lips flared back as I felt saber teeth sprouted from my canines.

  “Intriguing. Just as I remember it...one of Latresma’s creations,” Arlos taunted me. “She showed this to me once, long ago.”

  He went for me. I dodged him, then bounced off the floor and crashed into his side like a wave. He fell back, flipping me over him as if I weighed nothing. My body twisted in the air. I landed on my paws and bounced off the ground again as if springs were attached to my paws. I charged him. He spun over, his eyes tinted the color of an apple again. His hand went up in a “stop” motion as he fell to one knee. I felt a tightening in my chest and went airborne again, but not of my own will. It was impossible to get near Arlos with his telekinetic ability. I fell flat on my back and felt my blades tearing into the floor. Something wasn’t right. I should have landed on my feet without a problem in that form. Arlos chuckled in his chest as I clumsily rolled over on my side. My body felt awkward, uneven. Looking down, I watched my arms and legs shrink and my tail disappear.

  “You can’t maintain that spell while in the weakened state you’re in,” Arlos mocked and started my way. “You’re neither human nor vampire right now. Not a single one of your little incantations will sustain.”

  As my body shrank and shriveled, I watched Blake dart quietly across the room to the unattended daggers. I tried standing, but my legs were in two different stages of reforming, one longer than the other with one knee bent in the wrong direction. Blake appeared in the air with both daggers glimmering in his hands. He came down on Arlos with full force, trying to dig both blades into either of Arlos’ shoulders. But the blades deflected off his skin as if he were wearing a suit of armor. Arlos’ eyes lit up as Blake propelled into the air. The evnaut flipped and landed in a kneeling position. This all happened just as my human form returned to me.

  Before Blake could make another move, Arlos shot through the air and crashed into him. Blake fell back with Arlos on top of him. Blake held the blades out to block Arlos’ clawed attacks, but Arlos moved fast. He pivoted around and dug his claws into Blake’s back, effortlessly lifting him in the air. With his free hand, Arlos struck the daggers. The weapons hit the floor, and Arlos threw Blake. Arlos took the daggers with his clawed hands, readying them. He moved in on Blake again who was up in an instant. He dodged, but the blade of the Lumière Dagger caught skin. When it made contact, the evnaut stumbled back. The blade left a gash running along his collarbone. It healed but left behind another scar.

  “Ah, yes!” Arlos’ sharp laugh hurt my ears. “The blood coursing through your veins is what betrays you now. The blades of the daggers will show no mercy toward the vampire blood hiding inside you.”

  He charged Blake again with both daggers aimed, relentlessly slashing at him with one dagger, then the other, over and over. Blake bounded back and side to side at every step. He impressively dodged every one of Arlos’ attacks. But with each miss, Arlos became more and more aggressive. The Soleil Dagger sliced flesh again. Visibly weakened, Blake bounded across the floor. Arlos waited. When Blake came to rest with a thin line of blood trickling across his shoulder, I shuttered. I’d felt the pain of the daggers once before. It was unfathomable to me how Blake could just stand there and bear it with a straight face.

  Arlos went in to attack again, but Blake performed an agile backflip, kicking both daggers from Arlos’ grasp. The daggers fell at the demon’s feet when he staggered back. Blake shifted forward, grabbed both daggers and tumbled over them. He bounded through the room to join me. He readied the daggers when Arlos turned to us, his face on fire with rage.

  “Get behind me,” Blake ordered me.

  I stepped back several feet. With the daggers in each hand, Blake crossed his arms, holding them with one arm over the other against his shoulders. He swung his arms out and away, hand over hand, allowing the blades to quickly cross over and draw out to his sides. As the daggers swiped over one another, an intense light flared up between them. This produced a fiery wave that exploded from the blades. It was like standing in front of a detonating bomb. A shockwave pushed Blake and me back several inches. The heat and light radiating from the translucent golden wave had me shielding my eyes. The light traveled straight through Arlos and crashed into the wall of roots behind him, leaving behind a charred gouge. When I looked back, the light had vanished. Arlos collapsed in a smoldering heap. The room fell silent. I’d never seen this before, but I knew what it was—the sister daggers’ power that had the vampires and havidens so afraid.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” I asked Blake in a hushed voice, astounded.

  “My mother,” Blake answered.

  I pictured Rosetta’s face, her gentle expression. Blake didn’t know yet that she and Terry were gone. If we lived through this night, I’d have to be the one to tell him.

  “Is he dead?”

  Before Blake could answer me, Arlos’ body moved. The demon was on his feet but staggered. An infuriated expression splashed across his face.

  “You know those daggers are harmless against me!” Arlos bellowed. “Yet you should have told me that you wanted to fight so mercilessly…as it suits me just fine.”

  Blake seemed unshaken by what we witnessed next. Arlos’ skin began melting away like wax from a burning candle. It dripped to the ground in stomach-churning puddles of liquefied pale blue skin and black blood. His hair fell out and withered on the floor. Within seconds, there was nothing left of the Arlos I knew. He stood there, a blackened skeleton.

  But then, his skull bulged as if something were trying to crawl out from within. His body contorted, taking on a new shape. I could hear the sound of his bones as they broke and ground together. Two bull-like horns sprouted from the back of his head and shifted around behind long growing ears. His ba
ck arched and his knees bent in backward, causing his posture to curve. The smell of rotting flesh stung my nose while fern green and grayish muscles developed over every inch of his body. Tan skin formed over him, and it tore in places all over him as his body developed. The papery-thin skin stretched itself taut across his bones like a drum, leaving portions of his dark skeleton and muscle exposed between rips. Flesh hung from the bone on his elongated, gaunt face.

  Blake and I backed away from Arlos’ growing body. We watched as his legs thickened. He expanded taller and taller with every passing second. His clawed fingers curled into gnarled spears, and a long spiny tail appeared behind him. His muzzle extended, his mouth became too wide for his face, and fangs as long as I was surfaced from his partially exposed jawbone. Like two mountains, his shoulders bulged up and over his neck while his naked, dog-like body grew bulkier. Shaggy umber brown and iron gray fur sprouted in patches all over his stocky body. Like a tame lion’s mane, it popped in longer and wavier around his neck and shoulders. His form just kept getting taller and wider when his eyes sank into their sockets, completely disappearing in his head, and the “S” curve of his back became more dramatic to support his larger upper body. His thin, boney tail whipped around behind him like a bullwhip when he fell on all fours. I swore I felt the floor shake from his weight.

  He moved into the remaining light of the chandeliers overhead. His massive ribcage rose and fell heavily, and every breath he took seemed to rattle the floor. He must have been close to, if not right at, twenty feet tall on all fours, but still not nearly tall enough to reach the ceiling. And he probably weighed several tons. I honestly wasn’t sure how the floor supported his weight. His demonic hold on the room must’ve been the only thing keeping him from falling through to the first level.