Dark Calling (12 page)

“She didn’t realize at the time.  She hadn’t connected the dots.  It wasn’t until the police made the connection to the donor company that she was able to put it together.  They had kept that out of the news
from what I understand.  Maybe
so they didn’
t cause a panic. 
Anyway, your mom moved you guys away.  She wanted to hide you.  S
o s
he came here to be
close to Michael.  Thinking
he could help keep you safe. 

“She assumed this was just a crazy serial killer.  Thought she could move a few states away and everything would be all right.  Then
, about a year after you had moved here,
things started happening.  Supernatural things.  Your mom was visited by a man demanding she hand you over.  She recognized him even after all of these years.  Recogni
zed him as the donor she
had
chose
n
.  Your house had been blessed and salted.  He couldn’t co
me in.  At least not at the time
.

“She was terrifie
d for you.  She went to Michael and
explained everything she knew.  Told him every detail you had given her from the attack. 

“It was fairly easy to figure out who your attacker was.  The limp you described.  The pale and perfect features
.  The cigars.  Michael kne
w it was Apophis.  The Hierarchy
understood the seriousness of your situation.  They sent us immediately. 

“We
enrolled in West Hunt
High.  Lila helped me with my persona.  Made me the perfect jock.”  Nick smiles up at the ceiling.  “
Then you show up that first day
and you are nothing like your mom described.  Nothing like the pictures she gave us.  I almost didn’t recognize you.  It set the standard for the job.  You proved to con
tinually surprise us
.”

“Earlier today, you knew I’
d been a cheerleader.  Why did you make that comment?  About me being i
n better shape than you thought.
”

Nick rolls to his side.  Looks up at her.  “I shouldn’t have said it.  It was stupid.  I know it doesn’t matter now, but I could have screwed everything up.  I was referring to your recovery.
  If you hadn’t freaked out, I probably would’ve said too much and gave our ruse away.”

“I’m sorry about that.  I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.
”

Nick stares at her.  He’
s pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever heard her say she was sorry about anything.  “It’s o.k.  I’m a tough guy.  You didn’t crush me too badly.”  He smirks at her.

“Well, great.  Now I can rest peacef
ully.” 

“Speaking of which, can you flip that switch on the wall behind you?
  You’re not afraid of the dark
are you?”

Keely hits the switch.  “No, not at all.  It’s probably one of the only things I’m not afraid of.”

“I was joking.  I know yo
u’re not scared of the dark. 
You probably feel more comfortable at night.  Safer.  Am I right?”

Keely turns to her side.  Stares
out at the blackness surrounding her.  “How do you know that?”

“It’
s part of
you
.  It’s o.k. to embrace who you are.  And by the way, I know there are plenty of things you aren’t scared of.”

“Like what?”

“Like spiders
for one.  What happened in Giordano’s class?”

She bites her lip
.  Shivers with the memory.  Ru
bs her palms
across the blanket, her hands suddenly feeling dirty as she recalls the fleshy cover of the eerie book.  “My History book turned into this other book.  It was thick and heavy.  Tied with leather and I think it was bound in skin.”  She stops there because her voice is shaking.

“
The Demon’s Grimoire.  It’
s a book of spells,” he explains.
 
“
You could actually feel it?  Feel the weight and texture?”

“
Yes.  It was horrible
.  But after I threw it, it turned back into my History book.”

“So it wasn’t an illusion.  It was
temporarily
manifested.”

“
I guess?
 
What’s that mean?”

“I don’t kno
w.  It’s definitely interesting
though.”

“Well I’m so glad
I’m entertaining you.”

Nick exhales loudly.  “I think you need some rest.  I know I do.”

Keely closes her eyes.  Her body is exhausted, but her mind is alert and wandering.  The full force of the day sneaking up on her in the dark. 
Her mom and the man she t
hought was her father
are missing.  Very possibly dead. 
Her dad isn’t her
dad.  Her real dad is a D
emon.  A monster
that wan
ts to kill her
. 
She herself is part monster. 
It is all too much.  She shakes uncontrollably as a sob rips from her chest.

Nick doesn’t ask her what’s wrong.  Doesn’t ask her if she’s o.k.  He knows the answer to both already.  He reaches up and finds her hand.  Feels her flinch.  Her muscles tense.  He clasps her fingers firmly.  This makes her cry harder, but she doesn’t pull away from him.

It doesn’
t take
long for t
he fatigue to
win
.  The
tears slow as her eyes burn and grow heavy.
  Nick holds on even after her breathing becomes soft and relaxed with sleep.  It feels so foreign to touch her.  He s
pent so long watching from afar
thinking he would never be this close to her.  His skins soaks up her touch.  Senses savoring the smoothness of her skin.  She is so soft.  Somehow, this is not what he
expected.  She has such a hard
outer shell
shielding her from the world.  He is lost in the realization that she isn’t as strong as he perceived her to be.
  Not hardened.  Just hiding.

Reluctantly, he releases her hand.  The street ligh
t shines through the single high window on the opposite wall, casting an orange glow above Keely.  Just enough light for Nick to see her.  To make out the
delicate features of her face.  The tangle of thick wet hair draped over his pillow. 

With a sigh, he rolls, facing away
from
the futon with the beautiful sleeping girl.  Forces his eyes shut.  Ignores the rhythmic
purrs of snoring.
  Ignores the sweet scent that is new to the air of this apartment.
  Ignores the
strange,
intense emotions s
tirring inside him that her
presence
always
causes.

*
**

The night passes by quickly.  Dreamlessly.  The next time Nick opens his eyes, it’s to the sun peeking through his window.  The room is already stuffy.  Humid thickness filling the air.  His body is stiff. 
His
joints protesting the night
spent on the floor.  He sits up awkwardly, looking to the empty couch.  His heart leaps into his t
hroat.  It is only for a moment
because the smooth melodic so
und of her singing
drifts from the slightly ajar bathroom door.
 
He didn’t know
she sang.  Feels a moment of disappointment that there is yet another thing he hadn’t known about her.  Disappointed his ears hadn’t been fortunate enough to be privy to this m
elody before this morning.
 
He hops to his feet and folds the blankets.  Puts them away while he awaits his turn in the bathroom.
  He scuffles the f
ew feet to the kitchen.  Puts a pot of
coffee
on
.  Everybody has a vice.  He runs his hands over his face.  Wipes the sleep from his eyes.
Switches out the pot for a mug
,
too impatient to wait for a dose of
caffeine
.
  O.k. maybe he has more than one vice. 

Nick plops down on
the futon wit
h his steaming cup of happiness and
listens as Keely’s singing ends.  The shower is turned off with the squeak of a rusty faucet.  He should take a look at that sometime soon. 

The c
offee sits heavy in his stomach
causing it to
rumble.  He looks longingly at
the cans of beef stew peeking out of the bag on the counter.  The meal he forgot to eat the night before.
  He
s
natches a few pieces of jerky from the T.V. tray next to him.

Keely emerges from the bathroom
bringing with her the scent of strawberries.  Her hair is wrapped in the towel from la
st night.  Her face is clean, f
ree from all her usual black make-up
.  She wears a thin black shirt
formed to her body.  The feet below her too long jeans are bare.  The nails are painted a soft pink.  It’s quite a contrast
to
the black nails
of her fingers.
  She comes to a halt
seeing him awake and on the couch.

“Shouldn’t you hurry up and get ready?”

“Read
y?  For what?”  He sits forward
wondering what he
missed.

She gives him a blank look.  Glances at the clock on the wall.  It’s one of those cheap clocks that are painted gold.  Some
of the gold is scratched
leaving dark gray streaks in the frame.  Keely would like to sketch it. 

“For school,” she says.

Nick sets his mug down and places his elbows on his knees.  “I didn’t think we were going to school.”

“Why not?  It’s a school day.”  She pulls the towel from her hair.  The dye has faded drastically.  The tangled clump falls across her back.  Nick thinks she can be no prettier than she is at this very moment.  He turns his attention away and
sighs.

“With everything going on, I just thought it wasn’t the best idea.  I didn’t think you’d want to
go
anyway.”

Keely wonders why he isn’t looking at her.  Examines his face.  He seems tired.  His dark hair falls into his eyes, but he leaves it there.
It looks soft
and it’s shiny, she realizes.  It r
eminds her of a baby’s hair.  He’s cute
,
in that he isn’t perfect.  He needs to shave.  Stubble covers his chin and neck.  There is a small notch in his nose giving
the
illusion that it isn’t exactly straight.  He has scars.  Small white lines by his eyebrow.  O
ne over his lip.  Another at his
hairline.  She has scars too and w
onders if he has any on the inside as well.
She definitely does.  Too many,
in fact.

“I want to go.  I need the distraction.  And you’ll be there, right?”

Nick finally rests his eyes on her.  “Yeah.  Give me fiftee
n minutes.”  He pads off to the
bathroom
swinging the door closed behind him.

Once Keely hears the shower start, she applies the liner and mascara to her eyes.  Tugs her brush through her hair.  Digs green and black polka dotted socks out
of her bag and puts her
shoes on.

She peeks in the fridge.  It is a sad state.  T
here is a half gallon of milk,
a
carton of eggs, a
f
ew slices of American cheese, a
clear plastic container of unknown
s, and half an onion.  At least
she thinks it’s an onion.
  He
r
stomach aches for something to fill it.  Fruit and a bagel would be great right now.  She looks in the cupboards.  The first two are compl
etely empty. 
As she opens the final t
w
o cabinets—which are filled with mismatched dishes—Nick
opens the bathroom door.  Steam trails out behind him.
  His jeans are a little big.  They sag slightly below the waist of his plaid boxers. 
Keely’s lips part in stunned appreciation of his shirtless form.  Her gaze following the nicely defined V of his oblique muscles.  Trails over the six lumps of his stomach.  Water drips from his dark hair.  Runs down his neck.  Down his chest.  She blinks.  Doesn’t speak.

“I don’t really have anything.  Sorry.”
He rubs a tow
el against his
hair.

Keely recovers.  Closes the cabinet door. 
“It’s all right.  We don’t have time anyways.”