Plagued: Book 1 (37 page)

Julian kicked it, waving the medallion hanging from his wrist, “Your pitiful binding spell has no power over me, Fetching.”

It snarled out more phrases. The words took form and shape in the air as the thing spoke. Julian brushed at them with the medallion and the words crumbled. His mouth hardened into a thin line and he shouted in a language I didn't recognize. With each word, the medallion glowed green. The creature howled louder.

“Julian, the neighbors!”

With a glance at me, Julian lowered his voice. “I am asking it if the others know I am in Tokyo. It is essential to know the answer for your protection.”

“Could you ask it more quietly? And what is
IT?
Though I am pretty sure I am either hallucinating or asleep so,” I stared at the two of them, considering. “I guess, in that case it doesn't matter how much noise you make. No one except me can hear. Screech away.”

“You are not hallucinating. This is a Fetch, bound in service to one of the Club members; sent to spy on you. It is imperative to know its master. Whether he is one of the three holding your soul or one of the others, and if they know I am here.”

“Why? We know who the members are.”

“You have met only some of the members. Those they thought would be most compatible to charm you. There will be others. Stay still, damn it!” The creature started to squirm again. He gave a tug on the cord, pulling it tighter. “Where was I? Oh, the Soul Eaters are greedy to feed on souls. Not just any souls, you understand. Rare souls, like yours, are not easily come by. Much less with people attached, ready to fall under their spell. And of course, these splendid creations must surrender willingly – if unknowingly – to their sacrifice. That narrows it down out of literally millions to only several people at a time in any given city.”

The creature twisted and tried to bite through the cord. Julian kicked out and it lay still.

“They choose by lottery, directly after the victim has surrendered to them. Understandably not everyone is happy with the outcome. Perhaps this Fetch is from one of the losers, he might be persuaded to give us some information. If it belongs to one of the three who stole your soul, that is good as well. We must know which of them holds the pieces before we can get them back.”

Julian's brows were drawn together, his face solemn. The scaly thing on the floor stared at me, all fangs and eyes. Topaz eyes, like a jungle cat. Julian's reality seemed a lot more substantial than yesterday.

A wicked looking notched blade appeared in Julian's hand. “Now we must convince it to tell us.”

A chill ran down my spine. “No, stop, there is no way you are carving this...” The thing continued to stare at me. I waved one hand over it. “
This
. Just no.”

“Don't be so squeamish.”

“No!” I said more firmly.

We stared at each other. His emerald eyes cloudy, his expression unreadable. I tried to match him glare for glare.

The doorbell buzzed. I jumped at least a foot and the creature howled. The bell buzzed again.

Julian grabbed a pillow from the couch and held it over the thing's mouth. “Well,
answer
it.”

It buzzed twice more. I hurried into the hall. “Coming, coming, coming!” Yanking open the door, I saw one of the building caretaker's in his khaki uniform. The badge on his shirt said Kenji Suzuki. Mr. Suzuki did not look happy.

“Your maid. Your maid is here?”

“What? No.”

He held out a small, lumpy garbage bag in one hand and shook it up and down. The bag made rattling, clanging noises. “Bottles and cans. No bottles and cans tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Burnables and non-burnables, Carpenter-san. Very important. Garbage men do not take burnable on non-burnable day, non-burnable on burnable day. Your maid, she is mixing it up, again. Tomorrow is burnable only. Tell your maid.”

I blinked, considering what he'd said. “
Um
, how do you know it's our garbage?”

“I know
everyone's
garbage.” He gave me a narrow-eyed look.

There was a muffled whine from the living room and Mr. Suzuki glanced sharply across the hall.

“You have a cat?”

“No. No cat.” Monster yes, but no cat.

“You must tell the management if you take a pet. Extra charge.” Frowning, he thrust the garbage bag at me and not knowing what else to do, I took it.

“Garbage is serious. Good evening.”

I closed the door thinking this guy had way too much time on his hands. Holding the bag at arm's length, I passed Julian and his wriggling captive to drop the bag out the still open terrace door.

Julian was speaking quietly to the creature. It stared at him. What its expression was, I couldn't tell.

A click at the front door made us both jump; the thing screeched.

“Now what?” the boy growled.

I knew what that 'click' meant, the lock turning. “Oh crap, it's
Dad!
G
et to my room!”

Julian scooped up the thing, pressing the pillow over its mouth as it struggled against the cord. We dashed down the hall to my bedroom.

“Closet! In the closet!” Throwing open the door to my walk-in closet and pushing Julian from behind, I shoved them inside and slammed it closed. Turning on my heel, I ran to the front of the apartment, only then realizing I had shut them inside in the dark.

Dad paused in the doorway, talking on his cell phone. He should just have the thing permanently attached to his hand. He couldn't use those hands-free devices because, as he'd told me, his phone had special encryption software. Customer financial security and all that.

My mouth went dry with panic. I ran the long way round through the dining room, trying to put the chairs and lamp back in place, slamming the coffee table into position and kicking the pieces of the broken cup and saucer under the couch. No time to fix the picture.

“Lexie?”

The phone call must be finished. “Here, Dad. I'm here.” I slid across the floor on the Persian rug coming to a jarring stop at the kitchen counter. The blender was still out, along with the fruit and yogurt container. Busying myself, I grabbed the blender pitcher and moved to the sink. Turning the water on and letting it run noisily, I tried to catch my breath.

I glanced over my shoulder as he walked through the hall doorway. “You're home awfully early.”

He was in one of his dark suits, blue business shirt and tie, the Ray Ban aviators pushed up into his thick hair. “I have a couple of conference calls, figured I might as well do them here.” Setting down his briefcase, he laid a jumble of letters on the counter. He started to move towards me, then, hesitating, paused awkwardly, one hand on the kitchen counter. “How are you?”

I had a boy with a knife and some kind of winged monster tied up in magical dead demon skin hiding in my walk-in closet.

“Fine,” I squeaked. “Just fine.”

Chapter 20

Deep in the Closet

“You don't look fine.” He stared at me, frowning. “In fact you look like hell, Lexie. You're pale as a ghost. Out all night, night after night. When can we talk about this?”

I continued to scrub, saying nothing because I didn't know what to say.

Turning away to stare at the kitchen floor, he said very quietly, “I'm frightened for you, honey, please.”

I wished he would yell at me. Yelling was easy to deal with, just yell back. Quiet sorrow was awful.

“Dad...”

He faced me then and gave me a heartbreaking look. I'd seen that look many times after Mom walked out of our lives. He'd worn it for months. I knew he loved me, I said he loved money more; that was just to hurt him. He hid behind the wall of his job, hid from the loss of his wife. Hid the fact that I wasn't enough for him. Just like I hid behind my facade of indifference. I reached out my hands, wet as they were, like any small girl reaching for her father. Like the child I felt myself suddenly to be, adrift on this awful sea of fear.

“Daddy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. For everything that's happened.”

And everything that is going to happen I added silently to myself.

“I know sweetheart, I know. It's my fault. I started shutting you out sometime around that posting in Bangkok and never let you back in.”

“Why can't we be like before? Why can't everything be like it was?” The anguish in those words surprised even me.

He hugged me tighter; “Things can't be the same. They
can
get better, Lexie. We can make them better.”

Not trusting my voice, I just nodded, feeling deep within that everything was only going to get worse.

We stood like that for a while, his chin resting on the top of my head. Finally he pulled away.

“I've got something for you. A surprise. I was going to give it to you for your birthday. That day was, well, you know what that day was like. Give me a second.”

Picking up his briefcase and setting it on the counter, he took out a sheet of paper in a clear plastic folder. My dad loves clear plastic folders. Every paper ends up in one.

“Here, read it.”

The logo alone told me what I needed to know. Air France. “A ticket,” the words caught in my throat so that I could barely speak, “to...Paris.”

“Lexie, I'm beginning to understand how much your friends there mean to you. Brittany and, um, what's her name?”

“Brianna, not Brittany. And Isobel.” He never tried to remember my friends' names. Not that there had been that many since we left Santa Monica.

“Right. Isobel and Brittany.”

“
Brianna
.”

“Whoever.” He waved a hand in the air and laughed. “You can go as soon as school's out. I'll give you some money, of course. You can stay with them, right?”

Nodding, not trusting my voice, I held the e-ticket printout tightly in front of me with both hands while he talked about financial arrangements or something. I really wasn't listening. A chance to see Brianna and Isobel. It was what I wanted more than anything. Before all this. I had a terrible feeling a carefree Parisian summer of fun was not going to happen. Not for soul-lost Lexie Carpenter. Things had changed in a big way. Silver-haired sorcerer and demon-in-my-room sort of change. Trying to cover the doubt and confusion that must be all over my face, I set the ticket aside and reached out, hugging him tightly to me again. It was good of him to do this. No matter the outcome.

We stayed like that for some time until I felt him shift. “What the
hell
is all over the glass?”

It was some time before I could safely escape back to my room. The symbols on the windows explained away as a photography project for art, which I dutifully then took pictures of. A pretty good excuse on such short notice. My poor little camera had been very neglected lately. Luckily there was just enough of a charge left. Dad ate the dinner Tina made and I pushed the food around on my plate. It was all I could do to keep from jumping up and running around in circles screaming, the rising sense of panic threatening to overwhelm me. After promising to wash the symbols off the windows tomorrow, I said I had studying to do and escaped back to my room at last. Switching on the closet light from the outside, I cautiously opened the door.

The creature was still tied up on the floor with the addition of something white stuck in its mouth. One of my socks hopefully, not my underwear. Just because the sorcerer had already seen me in my bra and panties didn't mean I wanted him pawing through my lingerie! Julian sat, apparently at ease, his back against the far wall and the knife ready in his hand. There didn't seem to be any blood and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Can we proceed now, Alexandra, if you are
quite
ready?” He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

Eyeing the knife warily, I whispered, “Proceed with what exactly?”

Julian tugged the white whatever out of its mouth. “Alright Fetch, the name of your master. Tell me.”

It said nothing.

“I can destroy you.”

The creature's face twisted into a crooked grin. “Then you will never know.”

Rising to a standing position, Julian looked down at the thing. It was a few moments before, with a quick glance at me that I could not read, he spoke again. “Do you love your master?”

“What?” The topaz eyes opened wider.

“Do you love him? Do you serve him willingly?”

There was no mistaking the expression that spread across the creature's features. Pretty much the opposite of love, if I interpreted it correctly.

“As I thought.” Julian squatted down, leaning close to the Fetch and almost sighing the next words, “I can free you.”

Recoiling, it hissed, “You cannot. Liar,
liar!
”

I shushed them, whispering, “Quiet!”

It glanced at me, then back at Julian. “He has bound me. Bound me much more tightly than this ragged braid of skin. My master is a lord of darkness.” He said the last words almost proudly.

Standing, Julian slowly and deliberately spread his arms wide. “As am I, Fetch. As am I.”

There was a whisper of sound that sped around the confined space of the closet, faster and faster.

“Behold.”

Julian started to
glow
. Light beams emanating
from
him in an arc of gold, bathing his body and the confines of the closet in sparkling luminescence.

“Fear me, demon,” Julian said in a voice like none I had ever heard before, so deep, it resonated in my bones. “Fear me.”

My heart skipped a beat; it was hard to breathe. I don't know what the Fetch was feeling; I was certainly afraid. Throwing his head back, Julian chanted strange words that snapped and crackled in the air, sending electrical sparks, much stronger than those from the demon cord, crackling up and down my arms. Without warning, a beacon of light burst from him in shafts so sharp, I thought they would pierce me. He burned, glowing from the inside out, like a Renaissance religious painting, the spectral flames engulfing him.

Instinctively, I recoiled. It was a few heartbeats before I realized they were not hot, only bright, and then, even brighter.

The golden glow becam
e
ringed with red and orange. Even shielding my eyes, Julian's image seared itself into my brain. There was a great rattling roar and everything started to tremble and shake. I rocked on my heels trying to keep my balance. Was the closet shaking? With the light so intense, I dared not open my eyes. No, not the closet, the
whole building
. Everything began to sway.

“Earthquake!” I heard Dad yell.

Feeling my way to the closet door, I kept my eyes closed until I made it through. The afterimage of Julian still shining on my retinas. I stumbled out of the bedroom to keep Dad from coming in. Behind me, a shaft of the magnificent light chased after. I closed the bedroom door just before it could escape into the hallway and beyond.

Maneuvering us both towards the guest bathroom on the other side of the apartment, I said, “We should be near the front door, just in case.”

After less than a minute, the swaying finally subsided. I felt like the world was still rocking. “I need Dramamine.”

He smiled and kissed me on the forehead. “Our first Tokyo earthquake.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and held it up. “Earthquake selfie! Smile.” He snapped a photo as I tried not to look half-crazed with shock.

Looking at the shot, he frowned. “What's wrong with your face?”

“
Dad!
”

He laughed again. “Kidding.”

In the living room, we switched on the TV searching the channels. There was no news of a quake scrolling across. Dad shrugged, I shivered, and we said our goodnights again. Entering the bedroom and edging into the closet – very carefully – I saw that Julian was once more himself.

“Did you do that?” I asked.

He didn't answer or even look in my direction.

Their positions had changed, his and the thing's. No longer bound, it knelt before Julian, forehead touching the carpet, obviously abasing itself, the scaly body shaking. “My Lord, forgive me,” it hissed again and again. “Forgive, forgive. I am a worm, a worm to serve the Soul Eaters.”

Julian had some kind of demon bowing down to him.

In my closet.

Could this scene get any weirder?

I felt a sudden, wild urge to laugh.

“Not a worm, Fetch, not unless you choose to be. Tell me the name of your master and I will free you.”

The creature's body tensed, muscles knotting. It flexed its wings rapidly, tail lashing reflexively back and forth. Breathlessly, it whispered, “You cannot, no one has that power.” Its voice seemed to hold equal parts hope and fear.

Julian reached into a small leather pouch to carefully pull out a tiny, shining object. A blue crystal, maybe? Looking closer, I could see it was made up of miniature interlocking rings, incredibly delicate.

“I have the
word.
Take it and you will be free.”

The thing's enormous eyes stretched even wider. Quite suddenly it began to cry in great, heartrending sobs.

“
Shhh
,” I shushed.

Covering its mouth with both hands, the thing cried even harder.

After a time, Julian held out the little blue object. “Say it and swallow.”

The Fetch gave a sharp intake of breath and looked up, the topaz eyes burning into Julian's emeralds.

“Say it.” The timbre of Julian's voice softened until it became almost gentle. “Say it.”

The creature reached out, though his taloned fingers shook so hard Julian finally had to place the delicate thing within. It spoke, saying a
word in a strange tongue.
I had the sensation of being able to see the symbol, word, whatever it was, appear in the air. The creature placed the crystal on its tongue and swallowed. The air shimmered, like a mirage in the heat. Everything became momentarily indistinct, blurred somehow. The closet filled up with an indefinable spicy scent, like toasted cloves and cardamom. As if on cue, the dark, rough scales fell from the demon
en masse
. A pink-skinned
thing
crouched there now, different in every way from the snarling, clawed beast Julian had wrestled across the living room floor. As I watched, the wings began to develop bands of color. It was like seeing a caterpillar transform into a butterfly. A really scary butterfly with claws.

Julian gathered up the Fudo cord, tying it back around his waist.

“I am clean,” the Fetch said, looking down at itself, touching the new skin tentatively. “Not a trick?”

Julian shook his head. “You are clean. Your true self once more. Not Fetch; not slave. Now, in return, tell me what you know.”

The thing took Julian's hand, kissing it first on the palm, then laying it against its forehead. “In your debt, great Lord, forever in your debt, I and my family. My master is,
was
,” and he said that word with obvious satisfaction, “Savan, Savan of Firenze.”

A short time later, the two of us were alone. The creature, now covered in a fine downy fur, had spoken quietly and at length with Julian as I tried to digest the news Savan owned a pet demon. Or used to. Flapping off into the Tokyo night, wings flashing slightly in the electronic glow of the high rises, the creature left us.

I looked at the mess on my closet floor and thought of the caretaker and his lecture on separating garbage.

“Do you think demon scales are burnable or non-burnable?”