Enchanting Wilder (24 page)

I cock my head, lifting a brow. “That was fun reading? Jesus, Wood.”

“Shut up.” He moves down the wall, the light shining over Clayton’s bed. “There’s another word. GROSSEL.”

“Exhaultous and Grossel?”

“Hold on.” Wood puts his hand up, stopping me. “I know these words, Declan.”

I stay silent, and turn to look at the rest of the room. Another source of light flashes in the room and I see Wood tapping on his phone. “What are you doing?”

He sighs. “Calling dad.” He waits a few moments. “Hey, dad. We’re here in Leighton. The kid scratched a couple words onto his black walls. I just don’t know what they mean.” He nods. “Yeah. They’re from that book we read years ago.” He nods. “Right—that’s the one. He carved the words Exhaultous and Grossel into his wall.”

I swallow and scratch the side of my face, my beard starting to grow. He and dad always had this weird connection because of their love of learning. I had tried to keep up, but they were on another level. It felt as if I was made from a different grain. Like, my brain didn’t work the way theirs did.

“I knew it,” Wood says. “Okay. We will. Thanks, dad.” He hangs up.

Without looking up, Wood slides his phone back into his pocket.

“Well?” I shine the light on him.

“It’s Deusian. Pre-God. The lost language of Lucifer. Well, I guess the more literal way to describe it is pre-man.”

My eyes search his.

“It’s said that when God cast Lucifer out of Heaven, he fell to Earth.”

“Right. In Revelations.”

“Yeah, but what isn’t known is he stayed on Earth for who-knows-how-many years. He created his own type of ‘man.’” Wood uses air quotes. “Those people used this language. This, Deusian.”

My posture stiffens, my muscles rigid with anxiety. I don’t like where this is going. “What do the words mean?”

“Well, exhaultous means, to stop all good. And grossel means, to bring in evil by any means necessary.”

“Shit.”

“That’s not all. The fact that Clayton painted his walls black and engraved these words means he invited it in.”

“Invited what in?”

Wood’s body tremors. “Demons. Lots of them.”

I cover my face, shaking my head in denial. “Are you telling me there could be more than one in him?”

Wood shrugs a shoulder, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “It’s possible.”

“Dammit.”

“That’s not all,” Mrs. Carlson says with a malice riddled voice. My light moves from Wood to her, her face now morphed into something terrifying. Long and manic, she looks disturbing. “We’re all over.”

Fast, I pull out my gun and I hear Wood do the same. We cock our barrels in unison. She’s a demon.
Did we miss that?
Her eyes are rose red, just like Kai’s were the first time we met him and only something demonic can sneer the way she is. Good thing I filled my gun with iron and wooden bullets.

“Who are you?” I yell.

“I’m more than just one person,” Mrs. Carlson says, walking toward me, dragging her feet. She tilts her head to one side, looking more like a zombie than a demon. “I’m many.”

“Don’t move another step!” Wood screams.

“Or what?” She cackles, taunting him before stopping a few feet from us. “You’ll shoot me? Those won’t kill me, and you’re not strong enough to be able to defeat me or my son.”

Our guns won’t kill her? Shit. That’s not a good sign.

“Clayton? You got to him, too. That’s why he left. He’s not your son anymore,” I say, putting all of the clues together.

Mrs. Carlson shakes her head and stays rooted in her place. “Oh, but he is. Soon, everyone will be His children. Clayton asked me to come in, you know? He was a dreary boy. Abused by his dick of a father—he’s dead now, thanks to Clayton. He was just looking for a way out, and didn’t know I’d come traipsing through the door.”

“Jesus.” I clear my throat.

“He’ll be no help to you, either, boy. No one will. This is even far too big for God.”

I shoot one wooden bullet straight into her chest. She’s thrown back a few inches, but she stays upright.

She smiles. “If the real Mrs. Carlson were still alive—she’s not—but if she were, you would have killed her dead just then,” she tsks, gaining her footing.

My eyes bulge. I’d never really taken into account about the human host. We’d always exorcised what was inside and all was well. But this thing—the demon—got into my head. I shot first. I didn’t even think twice.

“Shut up,” Wood spits. “What are you even doing here? Why pick this family?”

“They picked me, you see. When your little Strix got the instruction to warn Clayton of his eminent choice, they didn’t know, but I had already gotten to him. I tainted the boy way before the Strix had the chance to give him the choice. It’s all about cutting out the middle man, you see? Once I got in, it was easy to keep the door open for the rest of my family. And don’t act like I don’t know you’re connected to them somehow.”

I shake my head and Wood asks in a brisk tone, “What are you?”

“I’m a hybrid. Bred by Maker.” Her eyes bounce from place to place, looking at nothing for longer than a half second.

Maker? Is that who Mrs. Carlson meant earlier by, ‘His children?’ Kai has mentioned Maker before, too. I shake my head. Information overload.

My heart thumps dangerous in my chest and my eyes find Wood for a split second. “But why?” I ask. “What’s the point?”

“Oh, it’s much bigger than even you can imagine.” Mrs. Carlson lunges at me, her eyes blood red, the beautiful blue I saw downstairs in the living room vanished.

The full force of her body hit knocks me back, sending my gun under the desk. We fall into a heap on the ground, both of us grunting at the impact. Wood swiftly pulls the woman off of me, bringing a knife to her neck. I rise from the floor, reaching to pick up my gun in the process, and point the barrel at her chest.

“Let’s say you do kill me, there’ll just be another one behind me.” She laughs manically, letting her head fall back on Wood’s shoulder.

The look of disdain pouring out of Wood would be comical if we weren’t in serious shit now. We don’t know how to kill hybrids. This is entirely new territory for us.

Wood’s knife begins to cut into Mrs. Carlson’s once-body, the red seeping onto her cream colored blouse. “What are you going to do?” She attempts to pull away from Wood, struggling in his grasp. “Cut my head off? That’s not going to work. You can’t kill me.”

Wood grunts. “Then how exactly do we do that?”

Mrs. Carlson, with all of her supernatural might, pulls away from Wood, out of his arms, and springs at me again. I oomph, falling backwards. Wood moves to attack her, but she shoves him hard in the chest, sending him sailing through the air. He slams into the floor with a thud, his head falling to the side.

Shit. Two against one, I was okay with, but one against one? And to top it off, she’s got superhuman strength?

Mrs. Carlson turns her beady red eyes back to me, sneering. Her manic stare filled with hate and disdain. I’m almost positive my expression parallels hers.

“You’re all by yourself now, Declan,” she mocks.

“You know my name,” I struggle, determined not to let my emotions overtake me. “How?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” She cackles. “You’re famous in Beneath. The unbeatable Pursuer. Your brother, too. More so you, though. You’re the hotheaded one, you shoot instantly and worry about the outcome later.”

Don’t let her get to you, Declan.

One of my eyes twitch and I step back toward the wall, switching the safety off of my gun. I attempt to keep my cool. “Damn. I’m famous. Want my autograph?”

She screams, but it’s not a normal, woman-type scream. It’s echoed and hallow. It’s exactly what you think a demon would sound like. It’s shrill and frenzied. Her mouth opens wide, and the blood-red color of her eyes deepens.

I’d shield my ears but it would only push her to keep screaming. Had I not already known she was a hybrid, I’d think she was a banshee. It’s almost as if her screams are trying to force me to succumb.

Wood begins to stir on the floor and Mrs. Carlson stops her assault on my ears and looks to him, chanting something under her breath. Wood curls in pain, clutching his stomach. He coughs into the floor, unable to catch his breath.

“What are you doing?” I panic, my feet moving toward Wood on instinct.

She hears me shuffling, so she shoves the palm of her hand in my direction, her magic pinning me to the wall. I will my limbs to move but I stay cemented in place.

She continues to chant over and over, and soon, my insides begin to twist. My intestines coil in my gut and my heart pounds like it’s grown to an unhealthy size in my chest.

“What are you doing?” I choke out again. “Stop.”

Mrs. Carlson smiles, stopping her persistent humming and tilts her head back, breathing in deep, relishing in the agony she’s causing Wood and I. As I swear I’m about to explode from the inside out, a bright light of white and black burst into the room, knocking Mrs. Carlson back, allowing me to fall to me feet. My weak knees lock just in time to keep me from dropping onto my ass. My breath comes out in shallow gasps as the bright, evasive light encapsulates the room, causing me to throw my arm over my face.

When the light disappears, McKenna, Candy and Kai circle Mrs. Carlson, hands connected. Moving back and forth, they repeat unintelligible words I don’t understand.

“Proeit, extriem, vos, qui, reverte,” they chant, growing in volume each time they repeat it. Wind begins to rustle around us, as if manifesting from within the circle, the force pinning me to the wall again.

The three of them move in unison, back and forth, not fazed by the hurricane. As their sound fills the room surrounding us, Mrs. Carlson begins to yelp. Not her hysterical, demon shriek, but one that sounds of pure terror. She grabs at her face and ears, pulling at the skin. When that doesn’t help, her hands ball into white-knuckled fists. That doesn’t work either, so she covers her ears, slapping her hands against her head.

Wood shifts on the floor again, finally able to breathe, and opens his eyes. He lifts his arm to block the wind. His eyes go wide in surprise and he scoots back with force against the wall. He looks over at me, but I can’t move or talk above the howl of the wind.

Their movements become jerky, side to side, back and forth, their chanting never ceasing nor decreasing in volume. Mrs. Carlson falls, clawing at the ground. Her nails seep into the wood, creating long, jagged marks. Blood seeps from the tips of her fingers. Her screams radiate over McKenna, Candy and Kai. They step in closer to Mrs. Carlson, closing in on her, chanting in her face. Every word, a slap to her armor. Every syllable a fist reaching into her undead soul, pulling it out.

“Stop!” she begs, putting her hand up as if it would help.

Together, they bend on their knees, magically beating Mrs. Carlson into submission.

“Stop,” she cries, her sobs muttered on the cold floor. “Stop.”

Long moments of pleading, their chanting subsides. Still linked, they don’t break their connection.

“Why are you here?” McKenna asks in a calm voice. I wonder where she finds the strength.

Mrs. Carlson takes a deep breath, attempting to control her sobs. “We have…” she stops, shudders wreaking havoc on her body. She pounds once on the floor.

“You have what?” McKenna asks, becoming agitated.

“We have…” Mrs. Carlson looks up to McKenna and then slides her eyes to Candy. “We have your parents.”