Halfling (Black Petals Book 1) (13 page)

I awaken in the darkness, the TV turned off. Crispen must’ve come in to check on me already.

I feel a slightly chilly draft coming from the window. I assume that I must’ve gotten hot in the night and someone opened the window for me. I get up to close it, noticing that my head feels slightly better. I rub my eyes groggily and glance to where I feel the draft coming from. The window is in fact open, but to my surprise, someone stands in front of it. I know it’s not Aria because the silhouette is too broad and clearly male.

“Holy crap,” I mouth to myself, not wanting to wake anyone up if they’re sleeping. I wonder how deeply the three of them sleep, surely it would be tough sleeping while hearing every little noise from cars running outside to people’s footsteps down below on the sidewalk.

I blink and the figure no longer stands in front of the window. I look around the dark room trying to find it but come up empty. Am I seeing things? Still dreaming? I walk over to the window, and as quietly as I can, I turn the handle to close it. It’s then that I realize that the screen is missing. As my exhausted mind is trying to figure out what the hell is going on, a hand lands over my mouth, and I’m pulled through the open window. Just when I think I’m about to slam into the cement below, I come to the conclusion that someone is holding me. Someone with great speed and strength. A hunter? A demon? Why would Crispen or one of his siblings take me through a window? Demon. I struggle and attempt to scream or make any sound hoping that Crispen, Mason, or Aria will hear me. I’m tossed roughly into the back seat of a suburban down the street from the apartment building that Crispen lives in.

Now that the hand is off of my mouth, I begin screaming wickedly. I lunge for the right hand door handle at the same moment that someone jumps into that door, knocking me out of the way. My head pain rears from all of the quick movement.

“Quit screaming, please, girl,” the man urges roughly, staring deeply into my eyes. “You don’t want to scream.”

My screams cut off nearly immediately, and the urge to scream disappears. Confused, I stare at the man. Did he just hypnotize me somehow? I’ve never been hypnotized before, but I can imagine it’d feel something like this.

“Drive,” the man beside me instructs the guy in the driver’s seat, then he looks to me as we enter a street with more lighting, and I expect to see Blayk or even Landon, but this man is not either one of them. “My name is Darius. I’m a servant of your father’s. He requests your presence. I hope I haven’t harmed you, but we are in a hurry. We can’t have those hunters following us.”

Every cell in my body begins shaking. My father? My
demon
father?
Great.
I’m too shocked and groggy to say anything. I gawk at the man, and as I do, I realize that I recognize him. It takes me a minute to remember why. A photo in a newspaper clipping I once read comes to mind. This man is Darius Ranchiller. A hunter. The man that my father supposedly killed. I am sure of it. I wore this man’s ring for
years
. My father turned him into a demon, now he’s apparently a servant of my father’s. Who has servants these days? It’s the twenty-first century for god’s sake!

The vehicle speeds down the street, turning too quickly.

“You haven’t attacked me yet,” the man observes.

Well, duh. I don’t really stand a chance against a demon, now do I? It’s not like I have a death wish.

“Why?” he asks, looking confused. He turns his gaze to the driver. “Make a left up here and then take the highway to the backroad.”

The driver nods hastily and speeds up.

“What am I going to do? Scratch you?” I admit, my voice shaking as I realize just how helpless I really am. I pray that Crispen, Aria, or Mason come for me and soon.

“True. Though I doubt you could even scratch me.”

The man runs a hand along his thigh and pulls dagger from somewhere. It’s dark in the car and the most I can see is the glint of the knife. A chill runs up my spine. What is he going to do with that?

As the vehicle turns from the highway onto a gravel road, Darius moves forward. “Stop here.” He instructs the driver. The driver stops, Darius gets out, and pulls me out not nearly as roughly as he threw me in thankfully.

“If you cooperate, then you won’t get hurt.”

I decide instantaneously that I’m going to cooperate, because that knife doesn’t look fun.

“Do you have anything to do with Blayk and Landon?” I ask him while following him through a field. The immense feeling that this is all linked, surfaces again. Crispen’s family thought that my father might be linked to Landon and Blayk. Is pushing for information the wrong thing to do? I talk a lot when I’m nervous, and I’m definitely nervous.

To my surprise, the demon laughs. “Blayk and Landon are your half-brothers, Megan.”

My legs stop working, and I stop wide-eyed. What?! What did he just say? Can bombs stop dropping like it’s world war three or something? Jesus crapping lobsters.

“Come on, it’s not much further,” he instructs, a bit of impatience becoming clear in his expression. I follow along closely. Is he fricken joking? He better be. I can’t be related to such ass holes.

“I should warn you that your father isn’t the kindest of souls,” Darius mutters. One side of his mouth rises in a half-smile. “Well, at least one of us found that funny.”

“Found what funny?”

“I made a joke about your demonic father not being a kind
soul
, demons don’t have souls,” he explains quickly as if he’s now over his joke that wasn’t even funny to begin with.

“From what I hear and have experienced, demons aren’t ever really that kind.”

He shrugs. “The pure bloods are not quite a cup of sunshine, but we aren’t the evil creatures your hunter friends have made us out to be. Many of us are evil, yes, but many of us are not. The more time we spend in hell, the blacker our hearts become.”

I gape. Hell is real too? Well, of course it is, Megan, if demons are real doesn’t hell have to be? Does that mean god is real too? Angels?

“Your father happens to spend most of his life there. Most of us changelings are the pure blood’s servants, guards, or warriors. We all work for them unless we’re for some reason granted freedom which is rare.”

That sounds lovely.

“What are changelings?” I wonder, confused.

“Demon that are turned not born.”

So the turned demons are all slaves?

“Your brother’s have informed your father that you’ve been spending time with hunters. He is not happy and wishes to enlighten you. You are part demon, Megan, you mustn’t hang out with the hunters.”

“Why does my father care? He never cared when he left me when I was a baby. He never cared the last twenty-two years of my life, Darius,” I say smoothly, trying my hardest not to raise my temper.

Darius ignored me, stops, and lifts a metal door up from the ground. It looks like we’re about to descend into a cellar.
Great
. I hate the dark, and I’m claustrophobic. I look for a ladder, but I don’t see one. I begin to panic more so than I already am.

“Hold on,” Darius advises and wraps his arms around me. At first, I don’t know what he’s doing, and I freak out impossibly more, then when we begin falling, I realize that he’s jumped down the hole with me in his arms. Knowing this, doesn’t make me feel any better unfortunately. My stomach drops as we plummet. After no more than a couple seconds of falling, we stop, and he lets me out of his arms. I notice that he smells slightly of cinnamon, and I can’t help but wonder why. A cinnamon smelling demon? How strange.

We are surrounded by complete darkness which makes me impossibly more uneasy. He grips my forearm and drags me forward. Eventually he stops and opens a door. He locks it behind us, we climb some stairs, and then he opens another door. Light hits my eyes causing them to burn. He closes the door and removes his shoes and jacket.

“You’re back!”  A tiny voice calls and the sound of footsteps causes me to turn my head. A young girl no older than four comes sprinting into the room.

“I’m back, sweetheart. I told you I wouldn’t be long,” Darius greets her, lifting her up into his arms and spinning her around. He lands a kiss on her cheek softly and puts her back down. “Have you seen Blayne around?”

The small, blonde girl nods. “He came home and went upstairs.” She points to another set of stairs down the hall.

“Okay, go to bed it’s almost sunrise,” he tells her. “I won’t be long.”

The girl’s face falls, then she seems to notice my presence. “Who are you?” She wonders, her nose wrinkling.

“This is Megan. Blayne’s daughter. Landon and Blayk’s sister,” Darius murmurs softly and fixes a tangle in the girl’s hair. I can hear the love in Darius’s voice, and I can’t help but second guess everything that Crispen and his family told me about demons. Surely this man is not evil. Surely, this little girl is not evil. “Now go to bed, please.”

I know I should be freaking out, but again, I feel nothing. Am I some sort of psycho?

“Okaaay,” the little girl whines and runs off.

“Is that your daughter?” I wonder, following Darius to the stairs. From what I can tell, we just travelled through a secret entrance into a house. There are windows in the building, so I can tell that we are no longer underground. The house is well-kept, modern, and fancy, not something I’d expect inside of a demon’s home.

When we reach the top of the stairs, two men stand in front of a large door. When they see Darius, they move aside, so he can open it. We enter an impossibly fancier upper level complete with hardwood flooring and a wall made completely of glass.

“Wow,” I mouth, taking it all in.

A man sits cross-legged in a red armchair chair reading a book. I immediately study him for similarities between the two of us. Yes, this must be my father. The fact that he looks no older than me, rubs me the wrong way. He looks more like a sibling than a father to me, but I can see in his features some of myself.

After a moment, he places his book down and looks up at us.

“Excuse me, sir, I have brought you what you asked for,” Darius says formally and motions to me.

“Thank you, Darius, you may now return to your daughter downstairs. I’ll take it from here.” Blayne smiles, but I’m almost positive that it’s fake. His accented voice reminds me of Blayk and Landon, causing me to shiver. Proof that maybe Darius was telling the truth, and they are my siblings. I always wanted siblings growing up but not demonic ones.

Darius nods, turns, and then leaves the room.

Blayne stares at me a moment then motions for me to take a seat in a large red chair similar to his own a few feet across from him. I follow his instruction, not willing to tick him off.

“Megan, you’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman, you look much like your mother,” he chides, crossing his legs. His eyes are dark, nearly black, they remind me of Blayk’s the last time I saw him. If all demon’s eyes are black, then why have I seen Blayk with brown eyes? Colour contacts?

My father’s hair is short and black. He’s tall, probably over six feet and his build is similar to Landon’s. I see both his sons, my brothers, in him easily, and yet I didn’t see myself in Landon or Blayk, maybe because I wasn’t looking but rather praying for my life while around them. “You must be wondering why you’re here.”

I simply nod.

“Well, daughter, I have brought you here, because my boys told me that they found a girl wearing my servant Darius’s hunter ring. I knew it had to be you. I knew the compulsion I planted in your mind at birth would one day lead you here to Toronto, and I don’t blame you for getting far away from your mother, she was insane.” He clears his throat. “I sent my eldest son Blayk to keep an eye on you. He told me you were being watched by a hunter. I went and had a look for myself, learning that you’d somehow become buddies with the original hunters, and they were guarding you like some treasure. I had my sons test the waters and find their weaknesses. I knew I had to get you away from them before they brainwashed you, so here you are. Those hunters are terrible influences, Megan. Terrible company at all really.”

What is compulsion?

I don’t say anything so he continues. “You need to be protected from hunters because of what you are and not befriending them.”

I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. I can’t believe that I’m really sitting down across the room from my long lost father and having a conversation with him. Well, a one-sided conversation that is.

“Now I know Blayk has already asked you this against my orders, but I know how rough he is, it’s a wonder you never told him. You’ve spent enough time with the hunters, how do you kill them? You see, we’ve been turning them into demons to keep them under control, but we have no idea how to actually
kill
one.” My father stands and walks over to a table full of glass bottles and pours some clear liquid into a glass. “Would you like a drink?”

“No thanks,” I speak finally. “I-I don’t know how to kill a hunter. I didn’t even know about hunters until recently. I don’t know much. I’m sorry.”