Milayna

by Michelle K. Pickett

  I was looking at the floor of the deck, fanning the back of my neck with my hand, when I heard a puff of air. Looking up, I saw a puff of smoke in the yard a few feet from the deck. When the smoke cleared, I saw a small figure about the size of a toddler standing in the grass. It was short and fat with stumpy legs under a big, round belly. Its skin was red, and it had a shock of black hair standing atop its oval head. I jumped backward against the swing, a little scream coming out of my mouth.

  What in the hell…?

  I rubbed my eyes with my fists and looked again. It was still there, staring at me.

  I’m dreaming. This is too out there. Wake up. Wake up now!

  As if my life wasn’t weird enough already, the short, fat thing spoke, its ruby, bulbous lips bouncing. “Hi, Milayna,” it said, its voice high pitched like a little girl’s.

  I stood up so fast that the swing flung out behind me, hitting the house. The pipsqueak kept still, smoke curling around its body. The strong smell of something burning nearly suffocated me, and the temperature had risen another few degrees. I was sweating heavily, my sweatshirt damp.

  What? What—oh, damn. Oh, no. That’s not real. No. That can’t be real.

  I inched toward the door, keeping my eye on the thing in my yard. I had to call my dad. Then I had to call the police and tell them… what? A little red man popped into my backyard? No, I needed my dad.

  Another pop sounded and I jumped with a scream. I slapped my hand over my mouth and watched the smoke billow and float away, revealing another creature much like the first. Their red skin against the green lawn made them look like peculiar Christmas decorations, and the smell reminded me of scorched meat.

  The creatures were alike in almost every way, except the second had a scar running down the left side of his face, from his ear to the corner of his mouth. He also seemed grumpier.

  “She doesn’t speak,” the first weird gnome-like creature said to Scarface.

  “We don’t need her to speak. We just need to bring her back,” Scarface answered. He waved me away with both hands and then put his fists on his hips. “Then we can go home and get away from this horrid place. It’s too cold up here.”

  I stared at them as they talked, my eyes moving between them like I was following the ball in a tennis match. My mouth was open, and my mind whirred as it tried to process the scene.

  What. The. Freakin’. Hell. Is. Going. On?

  “Milayna.”

  I thought it was the one of the creatures talking, but realized the voice was lower, smoother—not an ear-piercing squeal.

  “What?” I didn’t want to take my eyes off my uninvited visitors, but I glanced toward the gate where the voice came from.

  “Go inside.”

  I wasn’t sure why I listened to the person—I didn’t even know who it was for sure—but I did as he asked.

  Once inside, I stood by the patio door and peered out of the window. The red—whatever they were—wandered around and walked through my mother’s flowerbeds. Scarface plucked blooms from the plants, inspected them, and crushed the flowers into the ground. He then tried to climb a tree, cursing violently when his stumpy legs were too short.

  An ear-piercing sound sliced through the air. I cringed and slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. My gaze swung to the other creature. It was laughing as it pushed the swings on the swing set. It climbed up the ladder to the cyclone slide my brother loved so much, took a leap, and slid down. Its cackling echoed off the walls of the slide until he came out the other end and plopped on his ass.

  “Milayna,” Scarface called, “we’re getting tired of waiting. Come out and play with us.”

  I took a step back from the window where I’d been watching them. The first creature pressed his nose against the glass and looked at me. “I can see you,” it sang.

  Movement caught my eye. I turned and saw Chay round the corner. The weird red men froze. Their faces turned demonic as their eyes grew wide and glassy black, and their lips pulled back against their yellowish-brown teeth. They watched Chay’s movements closely.

  “Chay,” Scarface said.

  “What are you doing here?” Chay asked, his voice hard.

  “Ah, don’t worry, we’re just looking around. There are so many fun things to do at Milayna’s house.” Scarface laughed, an ugly, garish laugh, and I cringed.

  Chay hooked his thumb around his belt loop and leaned casually on one leg. “Leave.”

  “We’re not done playing,” the friendlier one said.

  “Leave or I’ll send you back.”

  “Tsk, tsk, Chay. You really need to work on your temper. Angels are supposed to be passive.” Scarface brushed one finger over the other in a shame, shame gesture.

  “I’m only half angel.” They slowly backed up as Chay advanced on them. He seemed apathetic, bored even. “I’m only going to ask you nicely one more time. Leave.”

  “Make us,” the friendly one said, sticking his tongue out like a child.

  My hands were damp with sweat, and I ran them up and down my thighs. I watched as Chay walked toward whatever the hell the red things were. It was hard to breathe. I felt like I’d just run the Boston Marathon in an hour. I couldn’t catch my breath.

  This isn’t possible. I think I’m having a nervous breakdown or something, because this is just way too bizarre. What are those things?

  Biting my bottom lip, I watched as Chay grabbed them by the back of their necks and knocked them together. Their heads clunked, making a thud so loud I could hear it in the house. He let go, and their fat little bodies fell to the ground.

  A bright flash of light lit the yard, and I had to shield my eyes. When it dimmed, the red mini-trolls were gone, leaving behind nothing but two puffs of smoke and the same putrid smell I’d noticed before they popped in. I covered my nose and mouth with my hand to stifle it.

  Chay jogged up the deck stairs two at a time. He didn’t wait for an invitation to come inside; he just opened the door and walked into the house, brushing ash off his jacket.

  I looked over his shoulder and peered into the backyard. It was still empty. Other than the trampled flowers and the swaying swings, there was no sign that the freaky red things had been there.

  “Um, you want to tell me what the hell just happened? What were those things?” I looked up at Chay. I was gonna lose it any second, and it wasn’t gonna be pretty.

  “Hobgoblins,” he said.

  “And?” I asked slowly.

  “They’re harmless for the most part.”

  “But hobgoblins are the cute and likeable mischief makers of fairy tales. They’re not spawn from Hell!”

  “The fairy tales got it wrong. They usually do.”

  “What did they want?” I stood by the kitchen sink and looked out of the window. My bottom lip between my teeth, I bit it harder waiting for his answer. I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be one I liked. And for once, just once, since this started, it would be nice to get some good news.

  “You.”

  “Oh. Will they come back?” I had butterflies in my stomach, and not the lovey-dovey kind. The I’m-officially-freaked-out-and-scared-shitless kind.

  He hooked his thumbs in his back pockets. “Probably not.”

  Probably not. I was just visited by fat little demons from Hell, and he says they probably won’t come back.

  “What do you mean probably? I’m really not all that comfortable with ‘probably’.” I said, using air quotes—which was funny since I hated it when people did that. “I’d like to be ready next time.”

  “They were just messengers for Azazel.”

  I stared and waited for him to elaborate. It wasn’t hard, actually. Staring at him. He was handsome in an understated way. Not movie-star handsome like Jake, but definitely swoon-worthy. He had a strong jaw, full lips, and a golden complexion that was clear except for a slight scar on the left side of his chin, which only added more character to his wicked handsome face. Add to that th
e most beautiful blue-green eyes I’d ever seen all framed by dark, almost black, hair. And don’t even get me started on his body—yeah, staring at him was easy. Talking to him, or at least getting him to talk, was a bitch.

  “And?” I crossed my arms.

  “They were just seeing if you were alone.”

  “I was.”

  He leaned his back against the wall. “You’re not now.”

  “What would they have done if you hadn’t come over?” I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. The temperature had returned to normal, but I was chilled even with my sweatshirt on.

  Do you get cold when you’re in shock? Consider me sufficiently shocked. Mini demons in my backyard. I so didn’t sign up for this.

  “They would have summoned some demons or Azazel.”

  An icy finger ran down my spine and seemed to coil inside me. I shivered and wrapped my sweatshirt tighter around me.

  “Why are you here?”

  “You should be glad I am,” Chay answered. His tone was neutral, never changing.

  “I am. I mean, I wouldn’t have known what to do with the hobgoblins without help. But, where did you come from and how did you know to come?”

  “I live on the next street.”

  “And?”

  Why can’t he just finish an answer without me squeezing it out of him?

  “I smelled the sulfur and knew something was coming.”

  “Thanks.” I scrunched my nose. “That smell is nasty.”

  “When will someone be here?” He looked out of the window.

  “My dad should be here any minute.”

  Chay nodded and walked outside. I followed. He sat on the porch swing. “I’ll wait.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs, his hands hanging between his knees.

  “Okay.” I wished he’d just leave. He made me feel uncomfortable. But considering he’d just saved me from two little red men, I was glad he hung around. I was still standing next to the door, my hand on the knob, when my dad pulled into the driveway minutes later. I heard his car door slam shut. “I think my dad’s home.”

  “Later.” He stood and walked away, cutting through my backyard and jumping the fence to get to his street without a backward glance.

  Weird. Very weird.

  Chay definitely had the uncanny ability to set me on edge. He made me feel off-balance. I couldn’t decipher what he was thinking, and he wasn’t exactly forthcoming in his answers.

  I heard my dad come into the house and stood in the kitchen, waiting for him to stow his junk in the mudroom. When he walked into the kitchen, I let loose.

  “What are hobgoblins, and how come you didn’t warn me about them?” My voice came out quieter than I’d expected. I thought I’d be upset because he didn’t tell me about them before they showed up, but I was exhausted. Seeing little demon creatures swinging on my swing set was about enough excitement for one night.

  “Hobgoblins?” He froze in place. “They’ve been here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And what’d you do?” he asked. He started moving again, going from window to window and looking outside before he pulled the blinds closed.

  “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t know what to do, because you didn’t mention anything about the fat, roly-poly demons or what I should do about them.” I over-enunciated each word to show my irritation, but my dad seemed oblivious. I turned in a circle and watched as he jumped from window to window.

  “Are they still here?”

  I wrapped the hem of my sweatshirt around my finger. “No, Chay came over. Said he smelled sulfur and knew something was wrong.”

  “Yeah, I know Chay. Good kid. Quiet. He’s acquired a sort of sixth sense through this mess. It’s kind of like your ability, but his is a little different. It only works with you, not with other people.”

  “Me?”

  “Well, not just you. The entire group. He can usually tell when a member of the group is in danger.” My dad waved his hand in the air when he talked as if it wasn’t a big deal. I rubbed my temples, trying to push in all the information I’d gotten the last few days.

  Well, that explains why he was standing outside when I left swim practice today.

  “And just how often is one of the group members in danger?”

  “Until your eighteenth birthday, a lot. Especially since the hobgoblins are already showing up and making mischief. They’re usually the first visitors that come around. Kind of like scouts checking things out and reporting back.” He looked out of the window and tsked. “Your mother is gonna be pissed when she sees her flower beds.”

  “Flower beds? Flower beds. That’s what you think about?” I held my arms out to my sides and let them fall, slapping against my legs. “I just told you little red demons were running around the backyard while you were at work, and you’re worried about Mom’s damned flower beds?”

  Flowers. Thanks, Dad. I’m okay, really. You don’t need to worry about me. Go take care of Mom’s flowers.

  “Yeah, they tore down all her clematis. She loves that stuff.” He looked at me, his stance tense. “Listen, Milayna, the hobgoblins aren’t very dangerous, although if they catch you alone, they can be. From now on, you aren’t allowed to be alone. You need to be with another demi-angel or angel. Give notice at the bakery—”

  My eyes widened. “What? Why? I like working at the bakery!”

  My dad rubbed his forehead. “There’s no way to protect you there. You’d be alone. That’s unacceptable.”

  I stared at him for a second with my mouth open. Finally, planting one fist on my hip, I glared at him. “I’ve worked there for a year, Dad. I like it. I’m good at it, and they’re really nice to me! It’s not fair to make me quit because of this.” My voice rose with each word.

  “And what if you had a vision while you were working? The bottom line is, you can’t be alone until your birth time.” He took off his glasses, tossed them on the kitchen counter, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

  “My birthday.”

  He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a breath. “No, your birth time. The exact moment you took your first breath. Until then, none of you are safe. Especially you.”

  Five weeks, four days until my birthday

  “I heard you had visitors last night.” Muriel glanced at me and tapped her fingernail on the table.

  “Yeah, thanks a whole bunch for warning me about the red pipsqueaks.”

  Muriel cringed. “Um, yeah, sorry about that. I was on my way over when I smelled the slight scent of sulfur, but Chay got there first. I knew he could handle it better than I could. It must have been pretty scary, huh?”

  “Yeah.” I looked down and picked at my fingernail polish. “It was scary.”

  “I’m sorry. But it all turned out okay, right?” She pulled me into a quick hug.

  “Right as rain, like Grams says. So, Chay actually spoke to you?” I whispered with a teasing grin. We were in calculus class waiting for our teacher to pass out our torture—the weekly exam.

  When I said Chay’s name, he turned and glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. His lips pursed into a straight line. He stared at me, and I looked back at him.

  “No. Why?” Muriel’s chair squeaked across the tile when she shifted it.

  “Why what?” I asked, distracted by Chay’s stare.

  “Why’d you think Chay and I talked?”

  “You knew what happened when he came over last night.”

  “Well, I know about the hobgoblins. But that’s all. So start talking about what happened after that.” She leaned toward me and smacked her palm in front of me on the table. “Hey!” I jumped and looked at her. “Do you think you can tear your eyes off him long enough to talk to me?”

  I turned in my seat so I was facing her. “He said he smelled sulfur and came over to check things out. After the goblins were gone,” I whispered, “he sat on the deck until my dad got home, and then he jumped the ba
ck fence and went to his house. I bet he didn’t say more than a handful of words the entire time he was there.”

  “Oh.”

  “Gee,” I gave a quick laugh, “I’m sorry my gossip isn’t raunchy enough for you.”

  “I should have known it’d be all business with him. He doesn’t talk much, other than when it’s necessary, and it’s very seldom necessary unless something,” she lowered her voice so much that I almost had to read her lips, “otherworldly is happening.”

  “He’s mysterious,” I said with a wicked grin and arched brow, twiddling my fingers in front of Muriel’s eyes. She knocked my hand away, and I laughed. “Do you have a thing for the new hottie DA?”

  “Nope. Dark and brooding isn’t for me.”

  I wasn’t sure why I was relieved to hear that. I certainly didn’t have a thing for Chay. What did I care who he did or didn’t date? Jake was my passionate love affair. Of course, he didn’t know it. Neither did the head cheerleader, Heidi, who was Jake’s passionate love affair. I was in a love triangle with two other people who had no idea I even existed. Well, I guess Jake knew me, but that was only because we were both DAs. Otherwise, I was off his radar.

  “Give it up,” Muriel said, patting my shoulder. “You’re too good for him anyway.”

  “Who? Chay?”

  “Now why would your mind automatically go to him? I was talking about Jake. That’s who you were thinking about right? Or… is someone else giving Jake some competition? Maybe, I mean, have you ever thought that dark and brooding might be your thing?” She arched a brow and tapped her pencil against her lips.

  “Pssh, no.” I waved off her words. He was maddening. He didn’t talk, he was a complete loner, and I couldn’t deal with that. It wasn’t like I wanted to be the center of attention—no thank you—but I liked to hang out with my friends. No, definitely not Chay. He was hella smexy, but the last thing I needed was a boyfriend to deal with. I had demons, that was plenty, thank you very much.

  “Hmm, too bad.” Muriel inspected her perfectly painted nails and shrugged a shoulder.

  “Why?”

  “Because he hasn’t stopped looking over here since you walked into class this morning,” Muriel answered with a grin.

  “Oh, please. He probably just has the feeling we’re talking about him. Which we are, so let’s change the subject,” I whispered.

  “Let’s not just change the subject, ladies. Let’s stop talking altogether.” Our calculus teacher flung two exams toward us.