The Deception Dance (31 page)

My voice sounds a little desperate when I say,
"but Andras is the one who told me, Stephen; he's the one who
told me I was drugged."

"And who did you suspect? He had just
saved your life, probably gave you something to counteract or dull
the drugs...”

"A drink," I confirm.

"The only two people who had access to
your food and drinks were Chauncey and Nicholas."

"And I assumed Chauncey did it."

"Which was probably not who you were
supposed to suspect. What Andras wanted more than anything was to
keep you from us, to keep you out of
Leijonskjöld
Slot."
Stephen pats my shoulder and sighs. "What you have to understand
is: for a demon, the way they go about getting what they want doesn't
matter to them, as long as they get what they want in the end.
Remember that. The first rule to understanding demons is: to them,
the means are inconsequential, only the ends matter.”

He pauses for a long moment, and then
continues, “The result of the night was: you were alone with
Andras, healed, trusting him and mistrusting your companions. So, in
his eyes, it didn't matter that you were attacked and tortured,
everything was successful." His hand touches my shoulder. “So
tell me, Raven, was that an act of love?”

I stare at the wall for a few (century-long)
seconds, and then turn my gaze on him. "Stephen, what was the
point
?
If he doesn't love me, why would he do all that? Why is he doing all
this
?"

The unscarred side of his lips pulls up into a
sad little smile. "Because, you loved
him
.
He might not be able to love, or even say the word, but he knows what
it feels like to be loved, because of you. You’re probably the
only being in the history of Andras’s existence as a demon, who
has ever loved him. Many fear him, some revere or worship him, but
never love."

"You mean I’m the only being, in the
history of his existence, that idiotic."

Stephen cups his hand under my chin and lifts
my face so I’m looking into his blue eyes.

"No Raven, you're wonderful,” he
says.

For the first time I realize that Stephen is a
boy and I am a girl, and we are on my bed; and, since he sat down,
he’s kept some sort of physical contact with me. But…
he’s just a physical guy and it doesn’t mean anything,
except comfort (which I need).

As if Stephen can hear my thoughts, he pulls
his hand away, and says, “Intelligent people are deceived
everyday; and as far as deception goes, Andras is a prince among
beasts. He
is
the ‘sower of discord,’ that is his purpose on earth.”
He absently traces a finger across his scar. "Nicholas is faster
than me and more agile, Tobias is far more intelligent and Albert
could squash me with one hammer stroke; but, I have always been, and
will always be, the best demon killer. For someone like me, not
bookish or brutish or quick, I had to learn to dance
their
dance,
the
demon dance, and that is what has kept me alive."

He sighs, “My brothers are limited by how
they judge the world; people who sell their souls are worthless in
their eyes, not to be pitied or felt compassion for. Demons are to be
killed, but never studied or understood. They would never condescend
to think like a demon, to understand their motivations, to play their
games.

“My brothers will not face that there is
more than righteousness and evil in this world, decent people often
do terrible things and even demons can seek love.” He smiles,
“I think, they just don't want to see their own weakness, and
susceptibility."

My voice sounds pitiful, "Nicholas hates
me now, doesn't he?"

"You did the one thing he couldn't
forgive...”

"…he thinks, I slept with Andras,"
I finish.

He squeezes my shoulder. "No. You killed
yourself. Do you know that we only found out two days ago that they
were raising you? You were dead to us… to him, for nearly four
weeks."
Stephen
shakes his head, "But, don't feel too sorry for him, he’s
not the innocent martyr he’d have you believe he is. He
deceived you, too."

"How?" I ask.

"He could have walked straight up to you
as soon as you got off your plane and told you the truth."

I raise my head to look at Stephen. "I
would have thought he was insane."

"Perhaps." He shrugs. "He could
have told you some variation of the truth that left out all the
demonic matter. If he had warned you outright, Nicholas would likely
have lost any chance with you. But when Andras had you kidnapped, you
would have been prepared and wary."

"Wasn't Nicholas ordered to bring me
here?"

"We all knew what my ancestor’s
commands were really about, and Nicholas rarely obeys his orders. No,
he hid the truth from you so you would give him a chance. Nicholas is
obsessed with beating Andras, always has been; It was his plan, his
solution even before he met you, to make you fall in love with him
instead."

You have got to be kidding me!

Something fights to get out of me, perhaps a
laugh or possibly a sob, but I choke it back. So, what Stephen is
saying is that not only does Andras not love me, Nicholas was just
using me as a means to defeat Andras. And here I thought I was oh,
so,
special
.

Stephen must read my thoughts from my
expression, because he hastily corrects, "Wait, that did not
come out the way I meant. See, what you have to understand is while
other children were brought up on stories about fairies, trolls,
princesses, princes
,
our
Grandfather was telling us stories about you, Andras and all the
demons. We were all half in love with you before you were even born,
swearing that we would be the one to save you from Andras, the
greatest evil. Nicholas just never grew up.

“Andras and Nicholas treated you like a
prize or a pawn, but never like a player in their games; they didn’t
trust you to know the facts and choose for yourself. And now, my
brothers blame you for not making the
right
choices.” He shakes his head, disgust plain on his face.
“They’re just mad that you didn’t make the choices
they told you to make, blindly. If they had prepared you from the
first, given you training and the truth rather than concealing it,
then who knows how this would have turned out; but I bet you would
have chosen differently."

I turn over, sit up and curl into a ball. “I
hope so, but I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

What was it I said to Nicholas? Something like,
‘I can usually see people’s
ulterior motives’;
did I
actually say that? What a joke. I can’t help it, I laugh.

My laughter seems to startle Stephen; he gazes
down at me while his eyebrows hike up his forehead.

“I just... thought… I was
so
perceptive. But, I got everyone wrong, everyone, your grandfather,
Chauncey, Nicholas, Andras, even Albert ...” I pause to shake
my head, “Well, I’m still not sure about Albert. I’m
about as discerning as those birds that fly into the sliding glass
doors.”

Stephen doesn’t laugh, maybe it’s
not funny. He gives my shoulder a squeeze, takes my hand and stands
up. “Come with me.”

I glance up. “What are we doing?”

“What we should have done to begin with,
making you a player in all this, and, with luck, recruiting you to
the team.”

I resist his tug on my hand. “I don’t
think the other team members want me.”

“Ah,” he says, winking, “But
they need me, and unless you’re in, I’m out.”

Day
Fifty-Six (continued)

“There are many things I need to tell
you; but first, is there anything
specific
you what to know?” Stephen says as we wander our way out of the
guest house. I have my arm hooked in his for support, and boy do I
need it.

“Everything,” I mutter.

“Well, unfortunately we only have time
for the ‘quick and dirty version,’ as you Americans put
it. What do you want to know, most?”

I swallow, and try to jumpstart my brain to
brainstorm a question. I should have a ton, but between learning
about Andras, dying and being brought back to life I haven’t
had time to think. I’m positive there are so many things I need
to know about this new world. Well,
new
isn't the right word, this
world
I’ve always been bumbling around in, unaware. I clear my
throat. “So ‘security’ is really killing demons?”

He grins. “Yes, the best job in the
world.”

“So what do you do, precisely?” I
furrow my brow. “You do... Exorcisms?”

He shakes his head. “No, priests do
exorcisms. Exorcisms are done on a person whose soul cohabitates a
body with a demon. My family only combats demons, or the soul-bound
and humans with a demon infection that have allied with the demons.”

“So the last time I saw Chauncey...”

“Her body had no soul.” He stops in
the parking lot and we lean against a large green truck.

Compared with the rest of the estate, the
parking lot is deserted of people. Only two guards each on the guest
house, the main house and the men’s club occupy the car packed
lot, and all the men are pointedly looking away.

“When a person sells their soul, or more
accurately trades it, they make a deal that a few seconds before
their death their soul will be forced out of their body and sent to
Hell. In the few seconds between the soul’s extraction and the
body’s death a demon can occupy a soulless body, heal and
puppet it. We call these demons: ‘puppeteers’.”

I nod; the explanation makes sense with what I
saw. “Why do people sell their souls?”

“...you mean, why did Chauncey?”

I nod; I guess that is what I mean.

He considers this one for a while. “The
reasons why people sell their souls rarely make sense to a rational
mind. From the little Chauncey told me before she died ...” he
pauses to look down, “…I can only really guess. I don’t
think she was a much loved person. On the plane ride she was
delirious and confused; but from what she told me, I think that she
believed that being the most beautiful woman in the world would make
people love her. She told me that Linnie was the only person who
truly loved her and she loved you infinitely more.”

Stephen exhales slowly. I remember that he shed
a tear for Chauncey.

He continues, “Demons can’t buy
souls under coercion of torture, or by threatening to kill a person…”

“…but, wait,” I interrupt,
“what about with my dad and Linnie?”

“Did no one tell you?” He looks so
intense as he stares into my eyes. “Your father didn’t
actually sell his soul; he offered to, was willing to, but the
Chauncey ‘puppeteer’ could not buy it because
she
was the one
torturing and threatening Linnie
.
The puppeteer was only able to buy Linnie’s soul because it was
a human who was threatening your father. That’s how demons get
out of that limitation; they use others: humans, animals, or
circumstances, to do their work for them.”

I quickly, furiously, review what the puppeteer
told me that night in the
Hotell Trädgård Visa
in my mind. She said my father was willing to sell his soul…
that she collected all the souls she needed… She implied it,
but, I guess, she never specifically said that my father sold his
soul. Oh,
hell
.

Stephen continues, “From what I’ve
seen, most soul-selling is either impulsive or made under extreme
circumstances, and always, always regretted. Some people don’t
truly believe in their soul when they barter it for their heart’s
desire. No one knows the entire truth; no one knows about the regret
they will feel, or that they can never appreciate what they bartered
for. And nobody knows that when they die their body will be vacant
for a demon to puppet and impersonate them to attack their loved
ones.” We both silently digest this for a few seconds but
Stephen cuts the silence with, “We need to get back on topic.
Time is short. Andras...”

“…so Andras’s body was a
puppet too?”

He cocks his head, reminding me of Nicholas.
“Yes, but not in the same way as Chauncey. Andras is a Grand
Marquis; he’s more than a greater demon, he’s the
‘greatest’ earthbound demon. The body he seduced you
with, and Nicholas destroyed, belonged to a magician.” He wipes
his eyes making him look exhausted. “Black magicians and black
witches are humans with self-inflicted demon infection.”

“Witches, like Madeline?”

“No, not at all like Madeline, she is an
earth witch. She doesn’t even deserve to be labeled with the
same word as the black. Madeline worships the earth, she would have
rather sacrificed her own life than chop down those trees; but human
sacrifice invites the devil.” He has a look of genuine
admiration on his face, but it quickly falls. “The black are a
different sort, they come by their power by torture and murder. Most
poison themselves with demonic blood, to increase their power. The
magician, whose body Andras stole, was a Roma rejected by his people
because he murdered his own brother; he summoned Andras to incite
rage amongst his people so they would destroy themselves. Andras
tricked the man out of his protective circle and possessed his
already tainted and strengthened body.” He leans in. “But
Andras can take a soulless body, and often does, but he burns through
them in a matter of weeks or even days. He took the body of a
soulless homeless child when you were young, he even approached you.”