The Lariat (Finding Justus Series) (2 page)

2

I stood at the back of the empty lecture hall, my hands ready, every sense on high alert. I had gone to school and lived in relative peace for three years. The only otherworldly creatures I had seen were Vagabonds, lesser daemons, in need of Neutral territory or finding the Porter to be taken to Hell. But this wasn’t a Vagabond and it’s wasn’t a member of the Vile. It sure wasn’t Lillith or Orrin as much as I wanted to see him. I hadn’t seen my mother in three years, but I could feel when she was near. I may be the Beacon, the guiding light for all who sought me, but that didn’t mean I was going to let someone catch me off guard.

My hangover was really getting in the way. My daemon felt sluggish, it didn’t want to escape the liquor-induced haze either. I could feel my body coming alive in a way it hadn’t in many years. I had been waiting, biding my time for something, anything, the unseen war of angels and daemons to come crashing in and sweep me away into the deep drowning depths of chaos. My emotions were mixed, but it was obvious by the way my entire being came alive, this was what I was meant for. This feeling, this rush of emotion was an awakening. I knew whomever I was about to meet was going to change my world forever.

He pretended not to notice me. He was tall, taller than Orrin, with his blonde hair hitting the collar of his shirt. He carried a stack of books which he put on the lectern and busied himself with a few papers. When he turned to face me I saw a beard covering a very handsome face. He was older than I expected. The intelligent lines around his eyes betrayed the youthful ethereal façade. And just like Orrin had done so many times before, this man inclined his head toward me and smiled.

His mannerisms and fastidious eyes would have given him away as inhuman if my senses hadn’t recognized him for what he was. I relaxed a bit, current hangover notwithstanding. Consuming so much alcohol may dull my senses, but the headaches raged long after, perpetuating the cycle. He sighed, sensing my continued reluctance and waited for me to make the next move. Instead I stood there staring.

Why is every other unearthly creature breathtaking? Why didn’t I share in that same fate?

He laughed, interrupting the silence and my self-deprecation and continued to stare at me, “You underestimate yourself and that face of yours, Layla.” He took slow steps from the front, large lumbering steps.

I was entranced.

This man was more than he seemed.

I shivered, he noticed.

“That’s far enough,” was all I managed to whisper. My throat was dry and something inside me, other than my daemon, wanted to reach out and touch his face to see if he was real. I had only met one man who made me feel something like this before and I would rather walk into Lillith’s glass palace than feel that once more.

He opened his mouth, “Can I at least…”

“I don’t care who you are. Tell me what you want and leave,” I snapped.

“What I need is not that simple.” He had a slow way of speaking that I found irritating, as if he had time to burn.

“It never is. You have ten seconds before I walk out the door and I won’t help you at all after that.”

His laugh was like a vibrant melody, his eyes lit up and his smile was catching. I felt light-headed from just looking at him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Layla.” He raised his eyebrows and just grinned down at me.

When did he get so close to me?

“And I don’t need anything from you either.” He towered over me with hands tucked tightly in his pockets. He wore a thick silver chain around his neck and it disappeared underneath his shirt. I wanted to see what else he had hidden under that shirt. I wondered what I would do if he reached out and touched me.

As if reading my thoughts he did just that. He moved even closer and our eyes locked. My breath was coming quicker, my heart was hammering in my chest, but my hands were cool. The daemon fire beneath my skin quieted. His hand moved slowly, like touching a dangerous animal, to my cheek. He ran the backs of his fingers slowly from my temple to my bottom lip. Goosebumps covered my skin making the tattoo on my neck come alive again.

His touch was infectious.

He was a breath away from my lips when he ruined the moment, “Are you sure you don’t care who I am?”

I opened my eyes, appalled that I had even shut them, and pulled myself back. I studied him again, thinking back to all the demonic members of the Vile and the angelic beings who made up the Virtuous- but he was from neither of those. He felt like me, like Orrin. And then it hit me.

He was different. He wasn’t an angel or daemon. He was Vulgar- like me. That was a half-blood, born of both worlds.

“Exactly,” He grinned.

Is he…did he just…how can he…?

He laughed again, mocking me, enjoying my discomfort. “That was a few you just threw at me, but let me just say to your unspoken questions: Yes I am, yes I just did, and I can hear your thoughts because like you, I am part angel.”

3

I turned, like a coward, and walked away before he could ask for my help. He knew how to keep me. He knew how to make me his. I hated that part of my birthright. If anyone, creature, human or otherwise, asked me for my help I was compelled to do whatever was in my power to aid them. Few people knew the secret to of the Beacon. Many just sought me out because I was willing to help them. Angels, daemons and humans in need seemed to find their way to me without even knowing who I was.

It was irritating. I wanted to rake my nails down their innocent faces, string them up by their feet and bleed every last drop of live force from their needy corpse- but the Beacon couldn’t do that. I had to suppress my daemon so I could help the world. It was a raw deal.

Could you help me, please?
Once those words were out, I was powerless to resist. I needed to move, I needed to breathe, and I needed to get the hell out of this crowded campus before I snapped.

The war within me had become unmanageable. I helped people because I was the Beacon- my one unavoidable destiny. It was either that or give in to the darkness and rain destruction down on all of mankind, and that choice was unacceptable. I had shared this burden with one other soul. In the short time we were actually together, Orrin taught me how to control my birthright, my pyrokenesis, and also how to focus my thoughts so my darkness wasn’t so scary. Focusing was easier to do when he was around. I focused on him. On us.

Without him I drank copiously to control my daemon to ensure I would help people instead of kill them. I tamped down on the rage that flowed within me, the ever-present fire just waiting for my capitulation. My incessant drinking made me pretty unpopular in the human world. The alcohol made my voices go away too. My daemon was subdued, but I was unable to feel my mother’s presence.

I knew she was always near, just like she threatened- I mean promised. I’m sure she knew and disapproved, but I didn’t care much. I had never felt more alone. There was no other choice at the time.

Being a drunkard also made me less approachable which was a bonus. Humans, at least, didn’t want help from a lush like me. I never minded helping people before my daemon days, but now that the compulsion was so strong, it brought pain along with it. That string around my heart that I once tied to Orrin, now just felt like a leash that any random person could just pick up.

Just grab my leash and I’m yours.

My freedom, my love and my life was a delusion. Darkness was my companion. The alcohol was the only freedom from the darkness, the need, and my own damning conscience that kept me riddled with guilt. It seemed nothing was real anymore. For that matter, was anything I had been through real at all? I jumped from one illusion into another, crawling through in an endless desert of mirage after mirage. My actions held no real meaning. I was lost.

I walked through the student parking lot and reached for the large bottle in my bag. Today it was vodka, but I wasn’t partial. Anything would do to dull my pain. I wondered if there was still an out clause. Could I give it all up? Could I give up my power? My birthright? My soul? How could I end my torment and keep the world safe?

The sharp liquid cut through the agony like knives sliding down my throat. The pain appeased my daemon and brought tears to my eyes. I checked my watch. Ben would be at home for the rest of the morning.

My best friend always made me laugh when nothing else would. And the best thing about Ben- she never asked for my help. I’m not sure why, maybe it was because she knew I would give it anyway. We had an unspoken connection, like best friends, even though we had only met our senior year of high school. She knew about Orrin and Ava.

She still thought I was human.

No matter. I told her about meeting Heath in Balmorhea. She never questioned my hasty trip from Providence. Bennet Taylor was my rock. If this was the kind of love I could have then I guess I was blessed. But it wasn’t enough to keep my daemon happy.

No one was near. The parking lot was surprisingly empty for mid-morning. I turned my backpack until it was flat against my stomach. Before I could think twice, I pushed my wings free. They groaned in protest as if they too were hungover. I pushed off, uncaring if anyone saw.

I was impossibly fast, a speck in the sky in less than a second. I had no destination in mind and wasn’t due in for work until after twelve. My afternoon was booked too with my new study group-but that was the future. The future was a shadow. It was an enigma that held no emotion. It was the present that left me hollow.

I licked my lips remembering the stranger- the
angel
, I almost kissed. I didn’t even know his name, but I knew definitively he was there for me and he was no threat, except to my thin shell of sanity.

I flew farther, faster, the steady pump of my wings like healing music to my soul. And just like so many times before my weightlessness brought me peace. If I could only keep my wings free, fly freely wherever I chose, the battle within me would have been easier to endure. Flying brought me a sense of peace like none other. There was no drug, no man, no place which could compare.

I looked down at the landscape passing by, like little brown squares stitched together on a quilt. My aimless wandering let my mind wander too. It searched for peace. I longed to see my dad, visit with my mom. It was past time I got my act together, I just couldn’t seem to remember existing without the alcohol. It had taken the place of my daemon and become the true darkness in my life.

Where am I?

The sun had traveled high above me and I sobered remembering the time. When I took off from the parking I had no place in mind, but now the hills had flattened. The horizon called to me like nothing else, pulling me farther north. With a moment of clarity I recognized the dry nothingness that was west Texas.

Balmorhea
.

My soul always sought him out heedless of any better judgement.

With the flick of my wings, I stopped, holding my position in the air. I wanted Orrin even still. I hated him for leaving me, for choosing Daisy over me. I loathed that I still needed him. I resented the pull more now than ever.

Being without Orrin wasn’t what I thought it would be. I knew I would never overcome it, I had learned to live with the loss, the way people learn to live with a missing limb. His daemon father, Orias, had once told me I would lose all control if we were separated. But his lie was only an attempt at winning his son back to his side. He was willing to use trickery like every other daemon. Having a conscience was not something he was burdened with. Orrin was riddled with vanity and a quick temper. He had hurt me repeatedly, but I always forgave him. I didn’t know if that made me pitiable or admirable- either way it made me miserable. Maybe this is what Orias meant- I would feel the desolation without Orrin. I would know true sorrow.

No, no, that’s not right. What are we truly upset about?

The question came from my daemon whose usually sluggish questions were silenced by the alcohol, but this time it was loud and resolute in the silence of the sky. Was I upset about losing Orrin or was I upset about being the Beacon?

I was the most powerful being on the Earth and I had no choice in actions.

Is that really true?

I looked at the small city barely visible thought the sandy haze of the west Texas sky. Did Orrin know I was feeling this way? Did he miss me? Was he married yet? That was always the plan between him and Daisy. I couldn’t bear the thought. We had a deeper connection than any Earthly ceremony, but that didn’t make the torturous days pass any faster.

The present was yet another interminable daemon I could not suppress.

***

I set myself down in the back of the Coffee Shack. I had been serving coffee there for three years. No one ever paid attention to me when I was a barista. They were too busy deciphering the large confusing menu hanging above my head. People rarely looked me in the eye and I enjoyed the anonymity. Getting lost in the mindless work of taking orders, cleaning tables, pouring coffee was soothing. As long as I was behind the counter, the only kind of help people looked for was either a refill or directions to the bathroom.

I took out my phone to check the time, knowing I was still early for work. Swiping my finger across the screen, I felt a shock zip through my hand. The screen turned white and began to blink. Long lines of strange letters began to fly across the screen. It was like looking at an eBook in fast forward. My cell began to smoke and the screen cracked.

I looked at my hand knowing I had just melted my own phone but my skin was still cool. The heat hadn’t been generated by me. I pushed the power button one more time in vain. The screen powered on revealing three black curved lines slicing across the screen. They faded through a final time, my phone giving one last pitiful goodbye. Unlike most people I didn’t have any social media accounts. I kept up with my two friends and my father. Attachments were dangerous.

Irritated, I thought nothing more of it and threw my phone in the dumpster in the back of the building and sought refuge in the familiar aroma of coffee beans.