DEMONS AT DEADNIGHT
The Divincus Nex Chronicles: Book One
by
A&E Kirk
Published by A&E Kirk at Smashwords
@Copyright 2011 A&E Kirk
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CHAPTER ONE
Someone’s car was totaled and it wasn’t my fault.
But who’s going to believe a teenager?
“The demon did it” excuse, while more creative than “the dog ate my homework,” was still as unbelievable. And much more likely to get me sent to the psych ward. So when the fang-filled flying hellion barely missed me and dropped like a wrecking ball onto the SUV, exploding shattered bits of glass and vehicle parts in my direction, I ditched the scene pronto.
And didn’t look back. The savage grunts and metallic squeals provided a hefty deterrent. Like I needed more nightmare material.
I shot from the trailhead’s near-empty parking lot and booked it down the road. A log-rail fence lined the thick woods, and when the demon’s furious screech closed in from behind, I cut right. One hand planted on the top rail, slick from a recent rain, I swung my legs sideways, up and over. Home free.
Until my bottom foot clipped the post, and I spun as if caught in a crocodile’s death roll.
Good news? The spongy forest floor cushioned my fall.
Bad news? Momentum slammed my torso into a tree trunk. Couldn’t breathe.
But good news again. I’d rolled under a fat, bushy pine, which, along with the fading twilight, concealed my position. I heard the beast fly overhead in pursuit, taking out a few treetops on its way by.
Yeah, that was my plan all along. Man, I’m good. Except my body. It hurt.
My pity-party lasted until I could suck in a breath, then I pushed to my feet and headed for home. Demons salivated over remote locations like this. I needed to move.
Side aching, breath choppy, I shuffled-limped-jogged into town, made it to my neighborhood, and relaxed. Civilization. Where the demon wouldn’t follow and—
Talons clicked an ominous rhythm on pavement.
Wrong had become my default choice.
I ducked behind an oak, huddling, chilled in my fear-and-sweat soaked T-shirt.
A malicious laugh churned through the air.
“Hide and seek. My favorite. How thoughtful of you to commence a game.” A touch of crazy tinged the demon’s smooth voice. Panic twisted my heart. “Ironic, is it not, that the great Divinicus Nex cowers in fear from that which should be her fated prey? A decidedly diametric circumstance.”
What? It’s irritating when the monster hunting you has a better vocabulary than your own. Maybe it could do my eulogy? This was crazy. I’d seen demons before but they were small, ignored me, or ran away. But this one? Well, it was a different breed. A psycho on steroids, and it wanted me dead.
Its chances looked good.
With my Amazonian height and auburn curls highlighted bull’s-eye-red, all I was missing was an “Eat Me” sign taped to my back.
“You’ve got it wrong. I’m Aurora. Just some girl you don’t want kicking you back to your hellhole.” My plan to go on the offensive stemmed from my defense amounting to less than diddly and squat combined. Dusk began to devour precious daylight. My eyes ached from the frantic attempt to penetrate the emerging shadows. “Think of the embarrassment. The other demons will laugh and point, make fun of you behind your back. Your self-esteem will suffer and I’m late for dinner, so for both our sakes, I’ll let it go. Just walk away and I won’t come after you.”
I hoped I sounded confident but I think my voice cracked.
Diffused light flickered to life from the surrounding houses. The ornate streetlamps lining the empty streets of the quaint mountain town buzzed to life reflecting on the shimmering fog that slithered across the ground. A sporadic drizzle hummed against the leaves on the branches above.
“I believe you suffer confusion, Nex.” The volume of its voice lowered. Had it backed off, thinking I had something up my sleeve? “I harbor no trepidation but that you remain alive. And my immutable predilection is to deliver your corpse in a profusion of pieces.” Then that laugh.
I couldn’t comprehend much of what it said, but overall, I wasn’t getting a warm and fuzzy vibe.
I fought a hysterical burst of laughter. I had nothing, nothing, but long legs and adrenaline. The spattering of drops above changed harmony. Feathering down through the branches, a grey mist swirled into a vague form my eyes strained to focus on. Mesmerized by its grotesque and lethal beauty, I almost waited a second too long. I ducked. With a menacing crunch, bark chunks splintered as the demon’s claws gouged into the tree where my head had been seconds before.
I launched into a graceful ninja-like front roll, then stood my ground to face the monstrous heathen, fearless in my determination to vanquish the deadly foe.
Nah, just kidding. I bolted, discretion being the better part of not getting dead.
I’d been seeing demons for a few years now. Yeah, those nasty creatures that should be in hell but instead are wreaking havoc on earth. If they were close by, sometimes I could even locate them using this weird second-sight that I wished would go Helen Keller. It was the crappiest superpower on the planet, but I’d dealt with my unfortunate situation in a mature and responsible manner. I ignored it. And so did the demons.
Until tonight when this one changed the rules and attacked while I was on my run. I’d tripped and stumbled over a rotting log which is why the SUV had taken the death blow meant for me. Wish I could say it was a deviously clever move, but the truth is I’ve got grace management issues.
A guttural hiss vibrated the leaves. Ancient wings slapped the air with fury. The scary monster noises threatened to paralyze me, so I ignored them and concentrated on running. Fast. Counting houses to keep the panic at bay.
Something darted out from my left, ground level. I swerved right, nearly falling, but kept going. I glanced back. A dog, one of those tiny, foo-foo things, scampered out on stubby legs, planted its feet, and started barking skyward. The demon diverted its sights from me and swooped down on the yappy mutt.
Dogs aren’t my thing.
I hate dogs.
And if this one was dumb enough to sacrifice itself for me, hallelujah. I kept running.
After I reversed course.
Stupid dog.
I dived head first and scooped up the mongrel as I slid by, feeling a rush of air from the giant beast passing overhead. A reddish sheen covered my eyes. I’d cut it so close the demon’s talon sliced through my ponytail elastic and released an onslaught of thick massive curls that cascaded over my face.
On foot again, I flung back my hair and continued my retreat, the squirming dog growling protests against my chest.
“Ungrateful mutt,” I growled back.
I sensed a presence looming overhead and dodged into a driveway, happy to toss the annoying pup into a garage where it tumbled under a sedan. A blow from behind lurched my body forward. I would’ve gone down but instead found myself airborne. And gaining altitude.
Not good, because last I checked, I couldn’t fly.
CHAPTER TWO
On the positive side, the beast hadn’t gutted me when it snatched me from above. On the negative, its massive three-toed chicken feet trapped my shoulders and torso in an excruciating vise. It leveled out and glided, letting my feet skim just above the ground, its laugh triumphant. This flying thing would’ve been kind of cool except for the sulfurous rotting stench that seared my throat and watered my eyes.
And the fact that it was about to kill me.
My hands shot up and wrapped around thick legs, reptilian cold, rubbery, and rough with warts. Fingernails digging into the demon flesh, I squirmed and twisted, fighting for leverage.
“Now that I have you,” it dipped its hideous beak-face toward me, hot breath sweet as a sewer, “I’m disinclined to sanction your liberation. Our peregrination has just begun.”
“Oh, shut up!” I swung my legs harder. Momentum and determination finally carried my feet high enough to land a couple of solid kicks to its belly which only seemed to launch us higher.
I raked my nails down its legs and sunk my teeth into the monstrous flesh. A bitter acid burned my tongue igniting a ferocious need to spit. The demon gave one surprised grunt before its grip tightened to rib cracking proportions. The leathery wings lifted. The monstrous body heaved for a powerful flap, ready to propel us high in the air and me to my doom. It would probably strip my flesh while giving me vocabulary lessons. I’d be dead but smarter. How’s that for glass half full?
Frustrated, panicked, I inhaled for a guttural scream—that never came.
A sudden intense pressure cemented my lungs, enveloped my body, and threatened to squash me into two-dimensional proportions. A tingling shimmered from my gut and spread through my body. Heat emanated from the inside out and rippled over my skin, gaining momentum, striding down my extremities. An expanding glow blanched my vision into blinding white. I smelled something burning. I hoped it wasn’t me.
The demon’s angry bellow echoed an instant before its claws jerked open. Good news, except it left me plummeting through the air. I reached for something to break my fall. The ground obliged. I rolled on my back, anticipating another attack. Vision still sketchy, I made out the snarling creature circling, then swallowed hard when it dived, its mouth split wide, fangs bared. I could breathe again, but that didn’t look like it would last.
A flash of dark orange lightning jolted across the sky, its jagged length spitting sparks and flames like fireworks off a rocket. The bolt smacked the demon from the side, which jarred it off its murderous course and spiraled it backward. No time for shock and awe. I grunted to my feet and high-tailed it toward home.
CHAPTER THREE
I silently cursed my mother’s green thumb. I’d swear the hedges lining our lawn had grown three feet in the week we’d been here. I doubted I’d make it over the gauntlet, but it was my only chance of avoiding a slow and torturous death offered up by my local Demons-R-Us.
Something slammed me from the side. We catapulted in slow spirals through a thermal pocket of warm air toward my next-door neighbor’s lawn and landed with a brain-rattling thud, rolling out of control. A demonic shriek slashed through the night, then silence.
Our bodies stopped spinning before my head did. I shook off the dizziness and pushed up. My head swiveled like a crazed bobble-head, searching sideways, back, above. I checked every angle of approach, narrowing my eyes to focus into the shadows. Nothing. No danger lurked.
I closed my eyes, concentrated, but couldn’t feel the demon. I knew it was gone. Which meant…what exactly? Maybe someone showing up scared it off. I chewed on that thought and the inside of my cheek as adrenaline evaporated. A voice broke my mental train to nowhere.
“Uh, do you mind?”
I glanced down and saw something far scarier than any demon. A guy. My age. All smoldering good-looks and gorgeous. And I was on top of him. Straddling his hips. Oh, jeez. Adrenaline reserves kicked in but only punched the air from my lungs and left me frozen in…fear? Shock? Embarrassment? Take your pick.
My vocal chords refused to vibrate. I could only stare. Smooth skin, cheekbones chiseled by the gods, strong jaw, straight nose. The tumble hadn’t mussed his so-black-it-shone-blue hair styled in a rakish devil-may-care look. He should’ve been sauntering half-naked along a South Pacific beach, all glistening skin and casual sensuality, a lazy smile filled with promise playing on full lips.
But it was the eyes that kept me staring.
Fringed by thick lashes, the deep brown shimmered with crimson and amber hues that sucked me into their simmering depths. Intrigued by their luminescent quality, I leaned in for a closer look, pulled by the kind of curiosity that no doubt put the cat six feet under. My head was still fuzzy from all the excitement, and when earthy aromas of fresh cut grass, leather, and a pleasurable musk filled my senses, I almost sighed.
Just as my hands noted the soft cotton of his T-shirt and the hard muscles rippling underneath, I felt a flash of heat where our bodies touched. His jaw set. He ran his hands up my thighs and settled just above my hips. His fingers dug into my flesh and pulled my upper body forward. I wondered with vague panic why I wasn’t pushing away from the kiss he was about to pull me into—when his torso tightened and he flung me into the air.
Hmmm, read that one wrong.
I landed with a thud for the umpteenth time that evening and laid on my back trying to catch my breath and soothe my ego. Damp grass chilled my skin through the wet shirt. Salty perspiration stung my eyes. I pushed back the long mass of matted curls plastered against my face. Sweat. My new hair gel. Yummy.
The exotic guy stood and turned a full circle, eyeing our surroundings in a slight crouch. Finally, he turned away, dropped his head, relaxed his broad shoulders, and inhaled slow, deep.
“Sorry, didn’t see you in time.” His voice rumbled deep as he turned around sporting a frown that took the sincerity out of the “sorry.”
“Sure.” I got up, prepared to haughtily refuse his offer of help. It never came. Instead, he backed away.
Unwilling to meet his gaze, I checked out the rest. I’m taller than most guys my age but he beat me by several inches, easily over six-feet. His black leather jacket fell open to a grey T-shirt decorated with an artfully rendered black skull. Black pants dripping with chains, a brushed-silver belt buckle with some intricate design, and combat boots finished the ensemble.
He looked like trouble. Dark sexy trouble. The kind of trouble smarter girls than me had fallen into with disastrous results—and few regrets. I retreated a step to distance myself from the allure. Then something other than his swoon factor caught my attention. Something weird. It looked like hazy grey vapor coiled off his broad shoulders. I squinted.
“I think you’re smoking.”
A heavy silence followed. When I caught his gaze, his eyes were only a dark rich chocolate and sparked with nothing but amusement. That lazy grin I knew he possessed slid across those sensuous lips. It was even better than I imagined.
“Wow.” He crossed his arms over his muscular chest and cocked his head. “Forward. Aggressive. I like it.”
It took me a second then my intestines cringed.
“No, I—I didn’t—”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” His gaze imprisoned mine, that mischievous smile wreaking havoc on my composure. “I’m flattered. Girls around here aren’t usually so…bold. It’s refreshing.”
My cheeks flamed nuclear. “I didn’t mean you were hot.”
He raised a doubtful brow. “You didn’t?”
“No. I mean, not that you aren’t,” my hands fluttered, “kind of good-looking. I suppose.” Great, Aurora, let’s choke that humiliation noose even tighter.
“You’re quite the smooth talker.” His grin never slipped. “Thanks.”
I knew he was mocking me. Irksome, but I was too out of sorts for snappy repartee. “You’re welcome.” I looked around half hoping a demon would show up to get me out of this mess.
“So what did you mean?”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Well.” One hand went to my hip as I tried for nonchalance but doubted I could pull it off. With the other I swung a finger back and forth at his shoulders. “I thought you were, um, literally…” I dropped my hand, unable to finish shoveling myself further into the muck. “Never mind.”
“Literally smoking?”
“Yes, but…” Yeah, like that didn’t sound nuts. I waved my hand to erase the absurdity.
His look changed. The amusement gone, his gaze sliced into mine, sharp, extracting, intruding, as if trying to elicit some information from my soul. Icy tendrils of discomfort skittered between my shoulders.
“What’re you doing here?” asked a new voice.
My neighbor had the look. Boys next door were supposed to be fresh-faced with fair skin, butterscotch-blond hair they brushed out of clear blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles. They were also supposed to be friendly. We’d moved in a week ago and this kid had avoided us like we were a family of spitting cobras on crack.
“Tristan!” the dark-haired boy exclaimed and gestured to my neighbor. “Come on over. This is…” he trailed off, looking at me.
“Aurora,” I said.
“This is Aurora. And she thinks I’m smokin’ hot.” Mr. Exotic’s hand slid across his mouth in an effort to cover the mischievous grin he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight.
“Yeah, right.” Tristan shoved his friend. But horrific mortification must’ve shown on my face because he frowned. “Really?”
“Noooooo,” I said too quickly. “Not exactly.” Before I could explain, something laced across my legs and frightened me into an awkward jig, arms flapping, and an odd warbling noise strangled from my throat. Not embarrassing at all.
Both boys smiled at the threat. Van Helsing, my cat, hair all on end. Whenever demons were around he looked like he’d stuck his paw in a light socket.
“What’s your last name?” Mr. Exotic said.
I blinked. “Uh, Lahey.”
“Irish. Explains the red hair. And you just moved here last week? With your family?”
“Yeah.” I realized I was twirling my curls around my finger and dropped my hand.
“Both parents?”
“Both? Yeah.”
“Where are you from?”
“Los Angeles but—”
“Up from the big city.” He cut me off, eager for the next question. “What brought you to Gossamer Falls?”
“Ah.” My gut twisted. My hands mirrored the movement. I shoved them in my pockets and fabricated a smile. I half turned, now desperate to be elsewhere. “I should—”
“How many kids in your family?”
Tristan gave his friend a questioning look, but Mr. Exotic waved him off.
“Five.” I felt like he’d started a game of twenty-questions without telling me. Why was I playing?
“Are you the oldest?”
I narrowed a look. “Yes.”
“I’m guessing sixteen? Seventeen?”
“Seventeen.”
“Junior?”
“Yeah. I think I’d better—”
“So are we.” He slapped Tristan on the back. “We’ll probably have some classes together. Won’t that be great?”
Tristan nodded a tight smile. He didn’t look like he thought it was great.
“What do your parents do? Do they travel a lot?’
My brow wrinkled. “No, they don’t.” I was tired of the interrogation. “Do yours?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Do your parents travel a lot? Are they still married? How many in your family? How old are you? What classes do you have? Boxers or briefs? What’s your GPA? Do you always go around knocking strange girls off their feet and then hammering them with a barrage of personal questions?” I finished with a cocky smirk.
Tristan hid a grin behind his fist. Mr. Exotic leveled me a steady stare, a sly smile gaining momentum. “Do you always end up straddling the guys who do?”
Tristan choked. My smile froze. Crap.
“And as for the boxers or briefs.” One hand went to his belt buckle. “I’d be happy to…”
Double crap. I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder toward my house. “I’ve gotta go.”
“No, wait.” He was laughing now. At my expense. “Just one more thing.”
I gave Mr. Exotic an expectant look, but while he bobbed his head toward me, he spoke to Tristan.
“Take care of it,” he said. “She had a bad run in.”
My neighbor lit up with interest. “With the—?”
“Yeah.” The guy twirled a long, slender finger around his temple. “So, you’d better—”
“Got it,” Tristan nodded.
“What are you guys talking—” Something smacked the back of my skull. Hard. My hand flew to my head and I whirled around to find—nothing. Right when I was trying to decipher what invisible force was playing hockey with my skull, a fresh wave of pain crashed through my brain. Knees buckled. I went down, a roar filling my ears.
A hand grabbed my shoulder. My head jerked up and took another whack. At least this one I understood. Tristan reeled back from my unintentional headbutt.
“Sorry.” I rubbed my head.
He waved off the apology, but his wide purple eyes watered from the blow.
Purple? I looked again. No, blue with a ring of violet around the irises. As I watched, the violet faded to lavender then only deep ocean-blue orbs held a worried expression. Too many knocks to the noggin must have given me a concussion because, unless these guys wore some funky contacts, eyes just don’t change color.
“Don’t worry about it.” Tristan reached a hand. Even with his slender frame he easily helped me to my feet. “You okay?”
The throbbing dissipated. I massaged the back of my scalp, surprised to find no lump, and nodded, still clueless as to what had transpired but ready to be rid of these two.
“Rora!” Luna screeched from the doorway of our house. My fourteen-year-old sister wasn’t known for subtle. For once I was grateful.
“Gotta go. See you guys later.” I walked backward and pointed at Mr. Exotic. “Keep your head up. I’d like to avoid another train wreck.”
The two boys shared a startled look.
“Wait, you—” Tristan began but stopped when Mr. Exotic raised a quick hand.
“Dinner’s ready!” Luna gestured an impatient arm.
I waved goodbye over my shoulder, glad to be away. What an odd pair.
CHAPTER FOUR
Luna sniffed as I came into the house. “You seriously stink. Who were you talking to?”
“The neighbors. Tristan and…” I realized the insolent hottie had never introduced himself.
“Are they cute?”
I smiled. “Smokin’.”
My sister Selena launched herself into my arms, almost knocking me over. My theme for the evening.
“School tomorrow!” the five-year-old squealed. “Yay!”
“It’ll be fun.” I tickled her side to erupt giggles and cover my lack of conviction. New school, middle of the year, and demons trying to kill me? Forecast didn’t look sunny.
I squeezed through unpacked boxes in the dining room and settled Selena into her booster seat. She sang her latest made-up melody about “schools that have snools.” Already in his high-chair, one-year-old Oron had one fist stuffed in his mouth and the other banging his tray. Luna and her twin, Lucian, started a back-and-forth rising crescendo of “Am not,” and “Are to,” after Luna called Lucian a “perv.”
Some folks call it chaos. In our house? Welcome to dinner.
“Lucian!” Mom barked as she set out her famous shepherd’s pie, plying us with our Irish heritage comfort food before our first day at the new school. “Enough boob talk.”
I raised eyebrows at my hormonal brother.
“Mom claims,” Lucian said with a dubious look, “she doesn’t mind Dad seeing other ladies’ boobs. It isn’t like the city. This town is small. He’ll know them. The ladies—not the boobs.”
Selena sing-songed new lyrics. “Daddy sees boobs that look like snoobs…”
Dad jumped in with his standard lecture about surgeons concerned with saving lives not ogling women’s “private parts,” and Mom changed the subject.
“Aurora, have you met any old friends from before?”
I grabbed bread for dipping. “Mom, I was eight when we moved from here. Do you remember anyone?”
Mom shook her head, shoveling mashed potatoes into Oron’s mouth. “No. Clyde?”
“Nope.” Dad paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. “Although, didn’t Aurora’s teachers call her Snow White?”
Selena chimed, “Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to work we go.”
“That’s right.” Mom paused a spoonful on its way to Oron who lost patience and plowed his hand into the spuds. Most of the mush made it into his mouth. “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs because she and those boys were always hanging out at school.”
“You had seven boyfriends?” Luna asked, impressed.
“No,” Mom said. “Not seven, just four or five. And they weren’t boyfriends, just friends. Aurora was a tomboy. She didn’t hang out with girls.”
“Should’ve stuck with that plan,” Lucian muttered.
A loud silence punched into the room. Mom, Dad, and Luna looked at Lucian like a landmine just clicked under his foot.
Here we go. Even now, mention of “the incident,” the reason we moved out of the big bad city, brought tension. I rubbed my shoulder feeling the rough scars underneath. Demons weren’t the only freaks that tried to kill me, just the most recent. In truth, they didn’t scare me as much as humans. At least hell’s natives were upfront about wanting me dead.
After Mom’s icy look and an elbow from Luna, Lucian apologized. Dad pulled my hand off my shoulder and held it tight, something he’d done a lot while I’d recovered in the hospital.
I looked around the table. “I’m okay.” I knew the damage still bloodying my psyche would take time to recover, but I’d sworn I wouldn’t be some pathetic tortured soul just because a bunch of loser friends had gone whacko on me. I smiled at Dad. “Someone once told me that just because you’re beat-up…”
“Doesn’t mean you’re beaten,” Dad finished his favorite motto. “Wise man. I’m sure he’s devastatingly handsome too.” He ignored our snorts of laughter.
Luna said, “So about those seven boyfriends,” and we moved on.
Mom shook her head. “They weren’t—oh, forget it. Do you remember them, Aurora?”
“Kind of.” I mined through the catacombs of my memory. Images flashed. “Did someone have horses?”
“Yes!” Mom nodded. “On a farm. You went riding a couple of times when the class went out on field trips. And there were twins. I remember because I had twins too and, oh, jeez, their mother was gorgeous. Hawaiian or something. Remember, honey?” Dad cleverly claimed ignorance on the hottie mom. “All of their parents kept to themselves, but so did we. I’ll bet at least some of them are still around. Want me to find out? You guys could hang out.”
“Mom, they could be mutant zombie serial killers by now,” Lucian warned.
“Enough with the mutant zombies. No more video games for you.”
“Fine. Can I talk about boobs?”
I hadn’t told my family about my demonic detecting skills. They’re far too normal to understand, and I’m afraid I’d end up in the hospital again. Only this one would have padded walls. But today’s encounter had upped the ante in a game I wasn’t sure how to play. I needed answers and a plan before I earned myself and everyone I loved a one-way ticket to dead.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Did Mom just drop us off at Dracula’s summer castle?” Luna asked.
The twins and I gawked at the grand building of endless stone and glass where the kids milling around looked out of place.
Awestruck, Lucian said, “This has got to be the coolest high school ever.”
He had a point.
Spires reached up several stories, with multiple turrets, towers, archways, and columns created from a dizzying palette of grey and tan rock. Glittering windows stood tall and thin like some giant beast had raked its claws down through the stone. One massive circular stained glass window hung above the entrance, like some all-seeing eye passing judgment on those who entered. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had blinked.
The building stretched out in all directions, framed by rolling acres of well-tended lawn that held the surrounding dense forest at bay. The landscape boasted colorful patches of flowers, finely pruned hedges, meandering walkways, and streams that connected ponds with tall reeds around the edges and ducks or swans floating on the surface.
Meticulously trimmed trees hovered over wrought iron benches, and centered in the front courtyard, a circular stone fountain sprayed at least twenty feet high. Threads of leftover morning fog weaved throughout, searching for cover from the rising sun. Out of the silence, Luna giggled and we all struggled to contain ourselves.
Dressed like a Goth princess, my little sister fit right in. I’d kept my couture low-key, except for a few unusual additions. After yesterday’s encounter, I’d rummaged through boxes of my anti-demon accessories and found some stuff I’d first acquired when the demon thing began and I, well, freaked out.
So it was running shoes and jeans plus a few extras. Several iron chains with tiny bells adorned the jeans, a “talismans of the world” charm bracelet dangled from my wrist, a large intricately carved Celtic cross—a gift from Grandma—hung on a sturdy chain around my neck, and gargoyles scare demons, hence the grotesque monster decorating my shirt.
Captured in a ponytail, my dark red hair fell in thick soda-can-size curls down my back. A few stray locks spiraled down from my temples since I could never fully tame the entire mass. The fiery red highlights shone a bit too conspicuous for my tastes, but Dad’s gene pool had thrown them my way without consultation.
I’d also inherited fair, freckle-less skin and Mom’s eyes, “the dark dangerous blue of an angry Irish Sea,” according to Grandma. She fancied herself a poet. My hair and height—well above girl average and all leg—made blending in difficult, but I tried.
So far we’d drawn little attention. Mom dropped us within the massive wrought-iron gates after doling out lunch money which I promptly tucked in my bra—because while on the run, things may often fall out of your pockets, but never your bra. After hugs and kisses, she disappeared down a side road to Selena’s elementary school, separate but within the gated compound, and we meandered with the high school crowd up the gravel drive, neat pebbles crunching underfoot.
I looked up, hands shading my eyes. On one of the higher turrets a herd of honest to goodness gargoyles stood guard. I touched the similar image on my T-shirt, and then it hit me. I did a lot of rubber-necking to be sure before my jaw officially dropped.
Demons are more common than people think—for the people who even believe demons exist. Most often I’ve observed the relatively harmless creatures scuttling around people’s daily lives. But high school students are especially attractive to hellions who love to manipulate that lethal combination of angst, uncertainty, and need to fit in. But here—and I quadruple checked—no demons. Not one. Nothing. Nada. Zero. Zilch.
Very peculiar.
Close to my face, a backpack cut through my vision. I grabbed it and shoved it back at Lucian. “Jerk,” I growled then bit my lip. No demons was a good thing, right? Especially after yesterday’s fiasco. But were they hiding? Gathered somewhere plotting, lurking, ready to pounce? Only one way to find out. Our trio of newcomers headed up the steps, me still glancing around in disbelief.
***
A lot of the building wasn’t used by the students, but I still had trouble navigating the endless hallways. Classes were the usual and the students normal even if the building wasn’t standard issue. Some said, “Hi,” others ignored me, and a few turned their heads if I glanced their way. No friends but no enemies either. And no demons. On edge, my sweaty palms rubbed the scars on my shoulder, a constant reminder that safety was an illusion and anything, or anyone, including these kids, was a potential threat.
I sandwiched the paranoia between guts and grit, and weaved through the bodies, attempting little contact and less conversation. The bell rang. Doors opened to suck in the student body like a zombie vacuum. Empty halls promised I’d be late for P.E. so I picked up the pace and raced through the halls.
But even with the yellow-highlighted map provided by the office, the contorted maze of Gothic architecture confounded my sense of direction. I hurried around a corner. And slammed into a wall.
The impact bounced me off my feet. I flew backward. A hand shot out and grabbed my belt buckle. My fall whiplashed to a stop. I dangled in mid-air like a fish on a hook, belt digging into my back, bells on my pants jingling amusement.
I looked up. And up some more. The “wall” was huge, and full of concern.
“Hey.” The guy lifted me one-handed so our faces were level. “You alright?” I grunted and flailed. He got the message and plopped me on my feet without breaking a sweat.
Puberty had been kind to Gigantor, but his pro-wrestler physique and strong, square features were softened by an easy-going grin and playful hazel eyes. Skin bronzed from the sun complemented his cinnamon curls, cut short but still mutinous to any kind of order. His nose kinked slightly, no doubt broken in some brawl—with a moose.
Solid broad shoulders, arms that screamed “I work out religiously!” and a barrel chest were covered by a tattered T-shirt, plain dark blue with various faded stains. The shirt stretched tight over his impressive frame but didn’t seem so much for effect as he’d just forgotten to buy something new as the years morphed his body. In contrast, his faded jeans hung loose but just as worn. Hand-me-downs? Who was bigger than this guy?
“Sure you’re okay?”
“Fine,” I snapped, re-adjusting my jeans and resisting the urge to fix my wedgie.
“Good,” he said unfazed. “Because girls shouldn’t hurt themselves when they fall for me.” He picked up my map and backpack, handing them over with the kind of smile that told me this was a good-humored guy. “Now that you’ve found your heart’s desire.” He put a dramatic hand to his massive chest. “Moi. What else can I help you find?”
I backed up and studied the map. “Just the gym, Casanova, nothing else.”
Unperturbed, he put an arm around my shoulders. For all his worn hand-me-down look he smelled fresh, like Ivory soap.
“It may be just the gym today, but trust me, babe, soon I’ll be the ‘X’ on your treasure map.”
I wiggled out from his arm. “Right, but until then…”
With a shrug he scrutinized the map. “Ah.” His massive paw rotated it clockwise before handing it back.
I sighed, nerves and brain cells shot. “Of course. Thanks.”
He winked. “I’ll collect later.” A gentle nudge nearly tossed me into the lockers.
Something caught my attention, and I swallowed a gasp/squeal noise I’ve been known to make. A fairy, or sprite, or whatever you want to call it, flitted by, trailing shimmering puffs of copper dust, and landed onto Gigantor’s head, almost invisible as she burrowed into his curls. Her sparkly eyes wandered as he walked away.
I rubbed my sockets thinking how tired I must be. But what the heck, for a girl who sees demons, fairies were a nice change of pace.
***
I sighed at the empty gym, unsure of my next move, but a passing teacher showed mercy. She produced uniform sweats, found me a locker in the girls’ locker room, then directed me to the field to join my class where I now raced across the line to a tumult of screams. We were playing Capture-the-Flag, and my long legs helped score. I wasn’t thrilled about the clothing change and leaving all my anti-demon gear, but there were no visible threats so I tried to relax.
A quiet guy with screaming white hair stared. When I caught his eye, he blushed and looked away, remaining on the sidelines, distanced from the group, tossing a football into the air. It twirled high then drifted down, landing feather-like into his palm before a flick of his wrist sent it up again.
The sweats hung loose on his short wiry frame, their navy blue contrasting against his neon white hair and eyebrows, and translucent pale skin. Only dark green eyes interrupted the albino look. A kid snuck up behind him and snatched the football.
“Hey, give it back!” I yelled before I had the sense to censor myself but the jerk just smirked and kicked it with a vengeance, arcing it well into the surrounding forest.
“Herman!” Coach Slader said. “You kicked it, you fetch it.”
“Come on, Coach. I didn’t—”
“Don’t mess with me, son,” Coach Slader snapped. “I’ve spent all morning explaining to that infuriating insurance company that I have no idea why my SUV looks like Godzilla flattened it with his big fat foot on his way to destroy Tokyo. One minute I’m hiking, and the next I come back to a twisted piece of metal. Do they believe me? Nooooooo. They think I’m lying! Sure, they didn’t come right out and say it, but—”
“Hey, Coach,” I picked up a jog toward the woods, “I’ll get that for you.” It was the least I could do.
The lush greenery immediately muted the sounds of my classmates, and I reveled in the quiet solitude, wishing it could alleviate my guilt about Coach Slader’s vehicle. Humid air offered scents of fresh pine mingled with damp earth, wood, and musty animal. Spongy ground, thick with layers of pine needles and organic debris made footing difficult. I headed in the general direction of the ball’s trajectory when—
Oh, crap.
Weightless, lightheaded, I pitched into the nearest tree. My mind’s eye tunnel-visioned, taking me on a mental serpentine speed race through the woods surrounding the school. Sharp lefts and rights lurched me dizzy until the vision halted before a huddled heap of mottled green and brown. The mass stood. Basically humanoid but with an apelike hunch, it had large grotesquely proportioned arms and legs with a head too small for the massive teeth that dripped something dark.
I hoped it wasn’t blood. A lump of guts and fur that could’ve been a deer in another life lay mutilated at its feet. The demon ran a clawed hand across its mouth, moved branches aside and turned pale, glowing eyes toward a clearing, sniffing the air.
Across a neat lawn I saw what had the demon’s attention. And choked.
A playground for kids Selena’s age, with twisting plastic slides, monkey bars, swinging bridges, castle towers, tunnels, and a pirate ship all gleaming in bright primary colors. A mass of kids squealed and played with delighted abandon. One scream caught my attention, and both my and the demon’s gaze focused on a little girl at the helm of the pirate ship. She brandished a stick like a sword and barked orders to her crew on the ground.
Her head fell back in a great belly laugh, blonde braids glinting in the sun. Four braids, not two. Two is boring she’d told me this morning when she’d requested my hairdressing assistance.
Selena.
A scream reverberated in my head, and I mentally pulled in reverse at lightning speed. My vision yanked back through the forest and slammed like a fist to the gut, leaving me breathless, disoriented, and on my butt.
And that’s how I find demons. I don’t mean to and, trust me, I’d rather not. But somehow when they’re somewhere in my general vicinity I latch onto their location and mentally, rather than physically, go there. Like it or not. I call it psycho-location. You know, like bats with echolocation? Only “psycho” in that one, I do it psychically, and two, it makes me nuts. Clever, huh?
Yeah, finding demons was easy, but fighting them? So not in my repertoire.
But he was here. Stalking a bunch of little kids.
Stalking Selena.
I wasn’t sure where her school was but it couldn’t be far.
Something caught my eye. I crawled over, picked it up, got to my feet and ran.
CHAPTER SIX
Call it a quirk, but I tend to steer clear of suicidal tendencies. So while I’ve had this insane ability to mentally go to a demon’s location, I’ve never tried to use that vision in my head to physically track one down before. Which is why I never knew I could before. Never wanted to find out before.
Never had one threaten my family before.
Can’t explain it. I simply knew which direction to go, desperately seeking out a thing of nightmares that until now, I’d desperately tried to avoid.
So intent on the playground, he hadn’t heard my progress through the woods, stealthy as a T-Rex on the hunt. I stared at his back several yards away, green, mud stained, vegetation seeming to sprout from his pores. Gross. Horrific. The bottom fell out of my stomach, courage struggling for grip.
I looked at the football in my hands, the one I’d found when I’d ended up on my butt and had my brilliant brainstorm to hunt the demon down. I juggled it back and forth, shuddered a sigh. No sense waiting. Death comes to us all, but not today, not to my little sister. My fingers found the laces. My arm reeled back and…
No lazy arcing spiral on this one. Nope. Dad called this baby The Bullet. And I was the Lahey star quarterback.
Which is why it was no surprise when the pigskin rocketed against the back of the demon’s skull and bounced off, disturbing dirt, leaves, a few Jurassic sized insects—and his unpleasant nature.
He slapped a grimy oversized hand to his head, and swiveled glowing green eyes my way.
“Tag,” I gulped a raspy whisper. “You’re it.”
His eyes lit up. I mean literally lit up with an emerald fire. And he smiled. “So,” he graveled out the words. “The Divinicus Nex comes to me.”
***
Muscles burned and breath raged as I raced through the woods, leading him away from Selena and back toward the high school. I hoped the crowd would scare him off. I nearly made it when a tree exploded to my left. Splinters rained down like shrapnel. I visored my eyes and kept running—until a tug on my ankle yanked my feet out from under me.
A loud crack as my knee connected with a rock. My face slammed into soft ground, much of which ended up in my mouth. I sputtered dirt, scrambled for footing, but plant roots rose from the ground and twisted around my legs. “Rooted” to the spot, I pressed against a tree trunk and stared in horror when the demon arrived.
The monster towered ten or twelve feet tall. Its bright green leathery skin was covered in dirt, moss, leaves, and patches of grass, the stench repulsive. His teeth gleamed brown. Evidently he wasn’t aware of the multitude of whitening products on the market. He reared back his arm. The deer carcass made squishy noises in his grip as he used it for a battering-ram aimed at my head. I ducked into the fetal position. The body hit the tree with a loud thud that jiggled my eyeballs in their sockets, and a mist of gooey, wet, gelatinous gobs I didn’t even want to think about splattered all over me.
To the untrained eye, it may have looked like I was cowering in fear, but it was actually part of my brilliant master plan to claw off the roots and run. Which I did while the beast revved up for another attack, the fleshy mass spraying bits of goo as the demon swung it in accelerating circles over his head.
Pine cones rifled off the trees and pelted like bullets. My arms blocked. I ran without looking back, leaping over obstacles and praying for acrobatic abilities I knew I didn’t possess. I jettisoned through the last line of trees and past a surprised Coach Slader.
“What’s going on?”
Oh, nothing, just a demon trying to obliterate my existence. I yelled, “It’s a—a—run!”
Confusion smeared Coach’s features. I studied the fortress-like gothic structure we called school figuring I could lose the beast in that maze, but instead headed toward the empty parking lot, away from unsuspecting people.
The beast broke through the forest. Screams erupted. Several students shrieked “Bear!”
If only. But it was odd. Bear? Demons usually liked to remain invisible, keep a low profile, make me look crazy. Maybe I was. I glanced back and saw the demon pause to scrutinize the panicked crowd until his cold eyes latched onto mine. He charged.
Weaving through cars, I ached for a plan. Changing clothes for P.E.? Big mistake in hindsight. I kept running, waiting for inspiration…still waiting and…nope. I had nothing.
Up ahead, a kid was on his knees changing a tire. I flailed my arms in a shooing motion.
“Get out of here!”
He glanced up, looked past me, panic registered, then he skedaddled, dropping his lug wrench with a clang. I reached down and grabbed it—shaped like a big X—and threw it Frisbee-style, remembering to flick my wrist like Lucian had taught me. I couldn’t tell if I’d hit him because he’d hurtled a boulder the size of Rhode Island directly at me. It came fast.
An engine revved to my right. A dark sports car screamed toward me. Brakes screeched, dropping the nose of the car, gravel flying, and sending the back end spinning into a graceful counter-clockwise arc. The back fender swung in front of me and punched the boulder out of the way with a metallic crunch. The vehicle finished its 180-spin and jolted to a stop, chassis rocking on smoking wheels, passenger door flying open, all in a blur of dust.
A sudden gust of wind shoved me from behind, and I tumbled into the passenger seat. Spitting rock and dirt, the car peeled out before I made it all the way in. The driver, the green-eyed albino from P.E., hooked a hand under my knees and yanked my legs over as the bottom of the door skimmed my ankles on its slam shut. I jammed my feet against the floor, one hand white-knuckled the handle above the window while the other groped without luck for something else to grab.
The demon slipped from my peripheral. A plant vine whipped through the open window, wrapped across my chest and around the seat. I screamed. The Albino slammed on the brakes, my new organic seat belt holding me steady.
I clawed the vine, green, thick, pulsing with determination.
The driver yelled, “Hold still!” and made a slicing motion near my shoulder with his hand.
I felt a tingling buzz. Severed, the vine retracted out the window with a thwack and the pressure around my chest relaxed. I unfurled the twitching piece left on my body and flung it out the window.
The Albino glanced in the rearview mirror, jerked the gear shift, swung his right arm over the back of my seat, twisted to look backwards, and flew in reverse.
“You’re going back?” I screamed.
He ignored me.
I looked back in time to see the demon’s startled face just before our car slammed into him, popping the body up and over. I heard him bounce above us, saw the metal of the roof dent into a mass of wrinkles, then he came back into sight, sailing over the hood, and tumbled onto the ground. The Albino slid the car around and sped off.
A red Ferrari-shaped cardboard pine freshener danced manic on a string hanging from the rearview mirror as we fishtailed down an aisle, skidded around a corner, and zigzagged through parked cars. I would’ve preferred to shut my eyes but was too enthralled by the fierce concentration on the Albino’s delicate features, and watching his hands and feet execute a graceful, rapid ballet between steering wheel, stick-shift, and floor pedals.
My stomach lurched as he yanked the emergency brake and we dove into another spin, two actually, before we jerked to a stop after the passenger-side tires briefly lifted off the ground.
A yank on my arm had me screaming again. I was pulled out the window and the car screeched off. I struggled against the hand curled around my mouth. Dad’s basic self-defense kicked in. I stomped on the guy’s foot, drove an elbow into his stomach, turned the instant his grip loosened, grabbed his shirt, and flung him to the ground, knee to his chest, my arm cocked for a palm to his nose.
I hesitated. “Tristan?”
“Quiet!” came his sharp whisper. Tristan swung a leg up and in a blur of motion I was on the ground next to him, pinned across the front of my shoulders. “Stay down.” I did.
Kids ran everywhere, screams echoed. The demon whizzed by. Gulp. It had resilience in spades.
“Am I interrupting something?” His voice husky and low, Gigantor loomed bigger than ever. “Tristan, you know she wants me, right?”
“Shh!” Tristan removed his leg, helped me up, and crouched next to the front wheel of a parked car, gesturing for me to stay back while he peeked around the bumper.
Gigantor squatted behind me. “Mmmm. Your hair smells nice.”
“Shut up,” Tristan snapped.
“Well, it does.”
Shouts amplified. Heavy footsteps thundered. A dull thud, and the car I leaned against tremored. The demon came back into view. He seemed bigger but that could have been the terror talking. I wanted to run but was stuck between Tristan and Gigantor and cars on either side.
The demon’s nostrils flared. His head swiveled. Hungry, glowing eyes locked on me. A thick, wet snarl gurgled up like bubbles in a muddy swamp.
Tristan focused on the beast, his voice low and urgent. “Little help?”
A heavy rumble rolled the ground, tipping me against a tire. Gigantor’s arm dropped across my body, trapping me against the car.
“Come on, come on,” Tristan chanted through clenched teeth.
A whoosh sucked through the air. Something long, thin, and white rocketed into view, clipped the demon’s rib cage, and scattered into a milky translucent cloud. The hellion spun backwards with a bloodcurdling screech that forced my hands to my ears. A dark liquid splattered the air and sprayed hot on my face. The beast grabbed its side, stumbled. Another throaty snarl and it disappeared in a swirl of gravel that tornadoed up from the ground. What the—? I tried to lean forward but Gigantor’s arm held firm.
“Dude, she’s bleeding,” he whispered.
There was an empty second. Tristan and I said, “What?”
Holes in my sweatpants framed scuffed knees leaking crimson. My shirt felt sticky. I lifted it to expose a nasty looking gash in my side. Just great.
“Anything else wrong?” Tristan said.
“Uh, no, but—” Pain cracked the back of my head. I whimpered. My body lost all skeletal function and slumped like a deflated zeppelin.
Gigantor pulled me back against a chest so unyielding it could’ve been a stone wall except for the heart I felt pounding against my spine. “Dude, what the—?”
The Albino Ricky Racer skidded into view. “Did you see— Holy crap!” he choked. “What’d you do?”
A shroud of pain, muted voices arguing, someone calling my name. Then consciousness went AWOL.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I blinked. It hurt. I was on the floor of the gym. How? Why? Had Tristan and his pals dumped me here? Were they still around? An attempt to rise plunged what felt like a thousand needles into my skull. I waffled in and out of consciousness until muffled voices clawed through my perception. My lids pried open to a blurry sea of faces.
“Jayden’s right! She’s over here!”
Ouch. Too loud.
“Everyone back. Give her some room.” Coach Slader knelt beside me. “We’ll get you to the nurse.”
I sluggishly made it to my feet, but swayed when a wave of nausea hit. Someone scooped me up and carried me toward the door.
“Coach, I’m fi—” It wasn’t Coach. I squinted. “I know you?”
“Science.”
Long black hair swung away from a handsome face with dark brown, almond-shaped eyes, deep set with long lashes. Chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw. Exotic. And familiar.
“No, well, yes but I met you before.” Didn’t I?
“I get that a lot,” he said in a level tone.
Coach Slader caught up followed closely by a trail of curious students all as surprised as I at this turn of events. Coach spoke in a delicate voice, like he didn’t want to spook a dangerous animal. “Jayden, what are you doing?”
“She needs medical attention.” The guy didn’t pause stride.
“Yes, but—”
“I’m taking her to the nurse.”
“Okay, but—”
“She’s too weak to walk.”
I huffed. “I am not. Put me down.”
In one swift movement the boy stopped, dumped me on my feet and stepped back. My knees buckled and before you could say “Bob’s your uncle” he scooped me up again and kept walking. A chorus of giggles erupted behind us.
“See,” he said.
I put my arms around his neck and shut up.
***
“We’re on lockdown.” The school nurse snapped off her latex gloves. “Bear’s gone. Just means everyone stays inside until Animal Control deems it’s safe.”
In her gleaming, sterile smelling office she’d dressed my wounds with efficiency. Minor cuts and scrapes, cheese-grated knees, and a gouge in my side from a chunk of splintered bark. She’d let me wash up, given me fresh sweats and a brush to somewhat clear my hair of gag-worthy debris.
“I’ll have lunch brought over.”
“No, I’ll go to the cafeteria.”
Only a faint wobble when I got to my feet. I left my pant legs rolled up to keep the fabric off my knees. The fashion police could ticket me later.
“You shouldn’t be wandering alone.”
“I’ll take her.”
We both turned startled looks toward the doorway.
“Well, you are the one who found her, Jayden.” The nurse pushed her gloves through the swinging top of the trashcan and bit her lip. “But—”
“Really, I’m good as new. I can evaluate injuries. My dad’s—”
“The big city doctor.” She smiled. “I’ve heard good things. Fine, but you,” she pointed at Jayden, “make sure she gets there safely. And any problems, bring her right back.”
Jayden saluted but didn’t move when I reached the doorway.
“Did you perform a blood panel?” he asked the nurse. I paused, unsure I’d heard correctly. His expression was serious, hers taken aback.
“No.”
“Did you ascertain any irregularities with her injuries?”
She stared at him quizzically. “She needs food. If you’d rather not take her…”
His movement fluid, Jayden eased back and swept out a gallant arm. “After you.”
I brushed past and walked down the empty hall like I knew where I was going. Hadn’t a clue since I didn’t have the map and it wouldn’t have mattered if I did, I just wanted to get away from my off-a-bubble escort, but behind me Jayden’s sandals flapped a steady rhythm. After turning a multitude of corners and ending up nowhere, I faced him. He stopped with his hands behind his back and cocked a curious look.
“Little help?” I said.
“With what?”
I rolled my eyes. “I need to get to the locker room.” I pulled on a lock of my hair and lifted a foot. “I’ve still got dried bits of yuck in my hair, blood and goo on my shoes, my socks used to be white, and let’s not forget I’m caked with sweat. I stink, I’m tired, and I want to clean up and put on my own clothes. Got it?”
His brow knitted. “An erratic but not illogical request. However, I understood we were going to the cafeteria.”
“Oh.” I looked around. “Am I headed toward the cafeteria?”
“No, but you don’t know where you’re going anyway. Understandable, considering—”
“Then why didn’t you say something?”
He gave me a blank look. “You didn’t ask.”
I searched his face for smug condescension but perceived nothing but earnest concern. Give me smug and condescending. I could explode at smug and condescending.
During the embarrassment of being carried across campus, I’d ignored my surroundings, including Sir Galahad here. Now I could see he looked ready for Malibu and his relaxed attitude added to the surfer-boy effect.
Tall and lean, he wore long khaki shorts, a plaid shirt open over a green tee, and blue flip-flops. Long hair, almost purple in its blackness, hung straight and photo-shoot shiny just past his shoulders. I expected him to produce a surfboard and call me “Brah” any minute. But all those idiosyncrasies didn’t freak me out as much as the fact he reminded me so much of the guy who’d tackled me yesterday. Gorgeous and exotic.
“Do you feel nauseous?” Jayden asked.
And very odd.
“Uhhh, no.”
“Faint, dizzy?”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you like bears?”
“What?”
“Bears. Do you like them?”
“Are you some sort of lunatic?”
“They seem to like you. I believe it was pursuing you.”
Okay, maybe not a lunatic.
“Have you noticed any unusual smells in the past twenty-four hours?”
Never mind. This guy was definitely a few clowns short of a circus. I turned away and headed down the hall.
“Just get me to the gym.”
The flip-flopping started up behind.
“Perhaps you’ve noticed some aberrant—”
“Jayden!” a voice cut him off.
I whirled. And saw double. Okay, not double exactly. My leather-clad hero from yesterday stood next to Jayden and the similarity between the two was freakish.
“Matthias is looking for you,” Mr. Exotic told Jayden.
“This is Aurora,” Jayden said.
The guy nodded in my direction. “Glad to see you upright. Jayden, you need to—”
“Aurora, my brother, Ayden.”
Light bulb moment. Brothers. Made sense. Ayden flashed a distracted smile. My stomach fluttered. Aftereffects of the demon attack or pheromone overload from Ayden’s presence, I couldn’t be sure. He was wearing the leather jacket again. It looked good.
Ayden chucked his brother on the shoulder. “I’ll take Aurora to the cafeteria and you go meet up with Matthias.”
Jayden brushed back his hair. “She requires a clothing change. We’re proceeding to the gymnasium.”
A flicker of tension ghosted across Ayden’s handsome features. “Later. I’m sure she’s starving after her whole bear thing. I’ll take her while you—”
“Unnecessary.” Jayden waved a hand. “Matthias can wait.”
“It seemed time sensitive.” Ayden’s eyes widened briefly.
“Then you can assist him.”
“He needs your expertise.”
Clearly there was some subtext that Jayden and I were missing.
“I’m sure you’ll prove adequate,” Jayden said.