The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon (19 page)

I reach the front entrance and pull open door to find an empty lobby. There’s no one here, no receptionist, no customers, no sound. Well, this shouldn’t really surprise me. What human would be able to stand being around all this type of emotional demon power? I’m having trouble as it is, and I’m one of them. As if sensing my presence, I can fell the tendrils tugging at me. Urging me to move to find them. Wanting nothing more than to make them stop and run screaming, I let them pull me down a darkly lit hallway.

I walk for what feels like forever, until we stop at a closed door at the very end of the winding hall. The door pulses with power, the tendrils seeping through the crakes of space all around it. My breath is struggling to keep itself even, and while I keep my own power at bay, I can feel my inner Taser sending off a warning. With its strong scent of ozone, I know danger lurks on the other side of this door. Of course, I don’t really need anything to tell me this. I just know from experience. Taking a deep breath of what I hope is courage I lift my hand in preparation for a knock. I shouldn’t have bothered. The door opens then.

My entire body freezes, I’m afraid to move, afraid of everything really. My sister stands before me. Her sickly sweet smile makes fear coat the back of my tongue like it’s something I could spit out. She hasn’t changed since our little get together at school. She still looks like a taller healthier version of me with better hair. See, she is totally more of a demon than me, it’s obvious with the better looks she has, the wench. Still, I breathe through the fear that tries to crush me, and I simply watch as she opens the door further and steps back to reveal the room.

Of course, she’s not just revealing it to me. She wants me to come in. I know this, it’s why I’m here, but I can’t move. I’m too afraid. There are too many possibilities of what could go wrong. It doesn’t even matter that I came here by choice, I simply shouldn’t have come. My eyes water with fright and I want so badly to get away. I need to get away, but I still can’t move. Frustrated tears overcome the frightened ones, and they slip out of my eyes and pour down my cheeks in steady waves. My limps start to feel weak, but I’m too stiff to fall to the ground. Black spots start to dance before my eyes, and I’m wondering if it’s possible to past out while staying on your feet, when I voice calls out from inside the room.

“Riana dear, do stop scaring your sister so. It would be a waste of time to have her blackout, when we have so much to discuss.”

At my mother’s raspy thick voice, Riana turns to face the room. As she does, I feel all the fear I’ve been feeling slip away. I slouch in relief, and fall into the open doorway only stopped by the door my sister still holds open. While I can’t feel the fear she carries with her, I can still see the contempt she has for me in her eyes. Looking at her, that’s when I feel it, hate. Not just for her being a wraith, but for what she just did to me. Under normal circumstances (yes, we have them too sometimes) I would’ve thought being so angry so fast isn’t normal.

So I guess I can thank my brother Logan for fueling the hate that pulses around me. Anything is better than being afraid, and his particular talent makes hate seem like a release. Instantly braver in my rage, I step over to my sister and shove her away from the door. As I do, sparks fly from my fingertips. The zap of my inner Taser sends her falling to the ground with a cry of pain, something just a regular shove wouldn’t do. I feel strong in my anger, and for the first time in a while my once protector of a Taser feels more like a weapon. One I would love to shove some more into the spiteful mink that is my sister. I’m actually stepping closer to her fallen form, when a laugh stops me.

I turn to face the room (one that resembles that of a hotel honeymoon suit and not just a generic motel room. A place that now seems typical of my family to pick, well, my mother anyway), and the feeling of hate leaves me in a rush. I’m left being just myself, a cold weak girl who has no problem feeling afraid all on her own. Not when the rest of my family are watching me with bitter contempt. Well, except for Logan, he’s laughing. I guess it is kind of funny that I just laid out Riana, but I can’t laugh at the moment. Not when the very nightmare that’s haunted me for the last month is actually before my eyes, trapped in a place with no help, with just my demon family before me.

My mother steps in front of the lot of them and says “Good of you to come daughter, and with a show no less. It’s always a treat to have a little sibling squabbling.”

Ha, yeah, me flattening out Riana is just a little squabble between siblings. Nothing weird or unnatural there. That’s my family for you. Completely comfortable in the land of the strange and unusual. Welcome to my freaking nightmare, where it’s Halloween every day of the year. Though, as a bonus, I was just referred to as ‘daughter’ and that’s a first. Maybe this meeting won’t be so bad. Looking down at my sister as she still tries to gather herself back into a standing position, I really doubt it.

I’m not that lucky. Or stupid. Okay, maybe I’m a little stupid.

I came here didn’t I?

***

None of them have really changed since I saw them last. This shouldn’t be much of a surprise, but then I’m the one that’s really changed. My mother still looks like a much older version of me, or rather my sister. The both of them are tall, with a fuller body and better hair. Even my mother, even though hers is greying in spots. With advancements nowadays I’m a little surprised she has yet to color it. Not that I’m ever going to offer up that little hair tip, I’m not that stupid.

She stands before me giving off an aura of bitter coldness, and it’s not all from just her stare. Though I could see why it would be hard to tell, she does have the whole icy glare thing going for her. Unlike my reckless siblings, she doesn’t try to use her gift on me. Instead she holds it like a blanket around her, a blanket that I wouldn’t dare touch even with the best winter gloves. She suddenly smiles, and that makes me feel a different kind of fear.

Behind her is the rest of the Pigwidgeon clan, the men. All three of them look cut from the same cloth. Just as my mother, sister and I are, only that of a different color. While us girls are contrasts of dark hair on pale skin, then men in my family are the opposite. Their skin is a bronze color, one that is pretty typical in sunny California that is our (their) home. Only their flesh has nothing to do with the sun, and all with hereditary genetics, or something of that nature. Regardless, their perfectly tanned, and it shows through better with their very light hair.

The three of them watch me with a sick fascination, each one glaring with their hauntingly beautiful clear blue eyes. Whereas someone else I know also has clear blue eyes, the ones before me are more of the whiter variety. Like I said, they’re haunting. Somehow my soul isn’t the only thing different I inherited from my family, height is also an issue. Everyone here towers over me, and the conclusion that it means something about power, isn’t lost on me.

No one has said anything after my mother, but then my family does have a flare for the dramatic. So it really shouldn’t surprise me when my sister finally gets to her feet and shuts the door that they were waiting for privacy. I know that doesn’t make sense, since we’re in a freaking empty motel, but that’s my family for you. Riana stays at my back, and with her eyes on me, I really have to keep myself from moving out of the way. I can’t show fear. Not now. I do however flinch when my mother’s voice cuts through the room.

“Care to sit my dear? There is much I wish to share with you.”

What’s more scary, the thought that she wants to share something with me or that she’s offering comfort while she does? I’m thinking both. I shake my head no. No way in heck am I accepting any form of comfort. I have read the poem about the spider and the fly, and yes, I am the fly in this scenario.

Raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, she says “No? Very well then. I suppose you’re wondering why we’re. Am I right?”

I nod. I was under the impression that they didn’t care for me, or enough to travel thousands of miles just to kill me anyways. I watch as my father steps up beside my mother and together they give me a look I’ve never seen grace any of their faces. Sympathy. Or maybe its sadness, I’m not sure. It’s a new one for them. The two of them together block out my brothers behind them, and with my sister still at my back, it feels like it’s just the three of us. Parents and daughter. I almost feel comfort from this alone.

Almost, but not quite.

“We’ve been lying to you Daria, all of us I’m afraid.” Oh this is it then. They’re going to finally kill me. I feel oddly calm; I have been expecting this after all. I almost don’t have it in me to listen to her ramble on about. “But in retrospect, we we’re trying to keep you safe. I just hope you have it in your darling heart to forgive us sooner or later.”

Hold the phone, what the heck? Have I gone insane or did my mother just use safe and forgive in the same sentence? My eyes go wide, and I can feel my hackles rise defensively. I might have walked in here knowing I may not walk out alive, but I’ll be damned (or further damned) before I am succumbed to mind games.

My mother sighs and looks away from me. She looks as if she’s sad about something. Either she’s become the best actress ever (which is possible we are from California, home to all the rich and famous) or she actually feels bad that I don’t believe what she just said. Does this mean she’s telling the truth? Nothing stops the way my eyes narrow at her and my father too, as I highly doubt they’ve been threatening my life over the years as a way to keep me safe. If so, then they totally suck.

My father places a gentle hand on my mother’s back, and she all but falls into him with another sigh. He shows her comfort and she clings to him for it. I just can’t believe what I’m seeing. Who are these people and what have they done to the evil family I left behind? My father’s much deeper voice calls me back to just him and not my mother who all but openly weeps.

“What your mother is trying to tell you Daria is that we mean you no harm. There is no need for you to fear us, your mother and I that is. You and I both know we can’t control you kids from doing anything rash.”

He laughs then, like the last thing he said is very funny. In a way it sort of is. Not that I am laughing though. I’m still convinced this is all a joke. But I offer him a nod, as if I’m paying attention to his every word and believing it too.

“You see, it was somewhat of a surprise when you came into our lives seventeen years ago.” My eyes go large at this. They are aware that today is my birthday? This day is getting weirder and weirder. “For years we were unsure of what to do with you, demons with souls aren’t very common. Then when you manifested, well, it became harder to remember to try and deal with you.”

He gives me a stern glare, one that I’m sure a father would give a daughter he’s reprimanding. Is he seriously blaming the life-offing attempts on me? Ha, nice dad, real nice. I must make a disbelieving sound, because my mother finally looks back to me.

Stepping out of the protection of my father’s arms, she says “It’s all true Daria. Tradition would have us turning you over at birth, but we weren’t prepared for such a thing. Then your gift left us running blind, and with an instinct such as that, well. It became clear we had to be rid of you. Otherwise the others would find you. I couldn’t let my baby come to harm from someone that isn’t me. I’m not that evil.”

All the breath leaves me gasping. I hunch over knowing it’s not Landon doing this, it’s all me. For some reason, I want to believe what I’m hearing, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. It’s what I’ve always wanted in a way, for my family to atone all the wrongs done to me. It seems almost too good to be true, and maybe it is. The word ‘others’ still rings in my head, so I know there is more to this fairytale their feeding me.

Still hunched over, I put my head between my legs and try to just keep myself from not passing out. I squeeze my eyes shut and ignore the black spots that are back trying to dance before my eyes. I can sense movement around, and even more, I can feel the icy coolness of my mother reaching out to me. I whip up into a standing position ignoring the dizziness I feel and the fact that I know Riana is behind me, I stumble backwards.

Fortunately, I crash into the closed door and not into my sister. Who by the way is joining the others as they flank around my mother. Even as I press into the door, they are too close, she is too close. I hold out my hands to her, as if warding off her touch, and I basically am or trying to.

“Stop where you are. Don’t come any closer.” Squeeze out in a coughing whisper.

Her advancements cease. I take in an entire breath. The black spots recede. She lifts her arms in surrender.

“Daria. I already told you we mean you no harm. There is no need for these antics. Not when there is a more pressing matter at hand.”

I snort out a bitter laugh and say “Is that so mother? Do tell me about these others?”

She looks to my father again, if searching out for help. He steps up beside her once more. I press myself further into the door, pleading to fall through to the other side.

“What your mother is trying to say is that the others of our kind will be coming for you. It’s only a matter of time really.”

I roll my eyes at them. I already figured the others were other demons, that much is obvious. But the why is not. No sense holding anything back, they’re not.

“Why would other demons care so much about me? I doubt they have any sense of caring like you all do.”

My father shakes his head.

“No. They do care about you, just not in the same way. Your special Daria, you know this, we know this, and now they know this too.”

I flick my eyes away from their heated stares. None of this makes any sense. I came here expecting to die, not to get some grand speech about family loyalty and different threats on my life. I’ve had more of this as I can stand. My mother must guess that I’m about to bolt, because she steps up as close as she dares to me.

“Daria, you need to listen and understand how important this all is. We never planned anything when it came to you. As it were, you were safely hidden in our home for a time. Leaving, you’re now on their radar if you will. It’s not safe for you anymore.”