Wicked Demons 2 (6 page)

Brother?

Struck mute, Andi could only stare at Duncan,
her mind riddled with even more questions than before.

"I will leave you now. I see that even the
O'Day closet has its share of skeletons."

Before she could blink again, Duncan
disappeared.

"That little bastard." She was unsure if she
was referring to Duncan or the priest in the garden, who may or may
not be her brother.

As Andi rose and walked slowly down the
aisle, not fully trusting her environment, Toryn reached out
telepathically.

The van behind the church!

She gasped, but tried to conceal her relief
as she exited the empty white church and slunk to the back parking
lot, cloaked in shadows. Hoping that Toryn was unharmed, Andi
couldn't help but note just how garbled and unclear his voice had
been in her mind. In fact, it was almost indiscernible. Maybe he
was gravely hurt. Maybe he was just under some form of duress.

A white church van -could they have been more
cliche?- was parked in the far corner, seemingly abandoned. It
didn't take long for Andi to break the handle and hop inside.
Only...

Michael's eyes turned to her, pleadingly. His
body was weighted down by crosses that appeared to glow, as well as
various holy items that had effectively pinned him to the
floor.

"Are you okay?" She tried not to sound as
shocked as she truly was. After all, she had never been able to
hear anyone but Toryn's thoughts.

Tossing the religious paraphernalia to the
side, Andi couldn't help but ruminate on a tiny statue of Christ.
She rolled it between her fingers a few times, concentrating on the
smoothness of the stone, and on the implications as to why she
didn't want to cast it aside. How was it that she could hold it
without harm, while Michael was practically writhing from pain
instigated by its very touch? Questions like this had the potential
to trap her mind like a maze. And there was no time for that.
Without further thought, she decided to shove it into her pocket to
address at a later time.

Cautiously, she reached her arm under
Michael's shoulder and helped him sit up, vigilant not to allow his
incubus powers to enrapture them. Somehow, however, it seemed easy
to deny the ancient influence lurking below the surface. He was
weak. Too weak. Pain laced his expression, and his skin was an
angry red, distorted hue where the holy objects had rested.

Well, this solidified it. Michael was one
hundred percent demon. Obviously, this information was old hat. He
had made no attempt to lie to Andi when they had been together all
those months ago. But to see actual proof unsettled her. That his
body could be so easily tarnished and broken by simple man-made
objects scared her through and through. Her human half sympathized
for Michael, while her demon side wanted to rage against the
atrocity.

Michael whispered, "Thank you," as Andi
scooted to the edge of the van, tentatively helping him to the
opening. To freedom.

"I don't understand. Why did they take you?
More importantly," she paused, searched his eyes for answers, "Why
did they give you up so easily?"

As Andi's mind reeled with a possibility,
Michael's gaze shifted to the ground. "I think you know why."

Because they wanted to distract me!
she screamed inside her mind.

"He's long gone," Michael divulged. "They
never brought him here. Why would they?"

Andi squeezed her eyes closed as hard as she
was able, trying to regain her center of composure. She was
supposed to remain calm, but how in the hell did anyone expect her
to do that when freaking out made so much more sense?

Finding his balance, Michael warned, "Let's
get out of here. They're watching us."

Surveying the heavily shadowed crannies and
corners of the night, Andi nodded. "I know."

After walking for some time, Michael finally
said, "This is it."

It was unspoken that they could not return to
Andi's home just yet. There was certainly an element of safety that
had been hacked.

Approaching a very small box of a building,
Andi waited while he disappeared around the corner, coming back
with a key.

"You leave your key in a hidie? You're a
demon, you should know better."

"The really bad demons don't need keys." His
tone spoke of frustration and exhaustion. Come to think of it, Andi
had noted an uncharacteristically apathetic tenor since she found
him in the van. Could he tell that she was let down when she opened
the door, only to see him rather than Toryn? Or merely worn through
from the abuse he had suffered at their hands?

"This way."

She followed him into the cramped building,
wondering where they were. Every step posed a hazard as she bumped
into numerous objects. Bruises were ripening as others were being
formed, she was certain.

Michael made his way to the center of the
room and turned the switch on a floor lamp, which was plugged into
a floor outlet. The dim bulb shot to life, casting shadows across
piles of miscellany. Mannequins lined a far wall while stacks of
boxes and bins made them practically disappear. Tables and chairs
were stacked meticulously against another wall. Oddly, they
appeared as solid as a mountain. And directly around Andi and
Michael were piles of magazines, more boxes, and end tables. The
culprits of her bruises.

"Where are we?" she ventured to ask.

"A friend's warehouse."

He led Andi around a corner of plastic bins,
revealing a clearing with a sleeping bag on a thin couch and a
cooler on the floor beside it. She pointed to them and practically
accused rather than asked, "You're living here?"

"Just visiting."

"Thank God."

He turned on her then. "Why? Why would it
matter to you if I were living here?"

"I-" She was stunned into silence.

"I've lived many places. None half as safe as
this." He pointed toward the door. "There is a lock." He pointed
up. "There is a roof to keep me dry." He pointed to a pile of
folded blankets. "There is warmth."

Feeling knocked down, Andi opted to nod
rather than speak. How had she managed to offend him so greatly?
Honestly, she hadn't thought it possible to offend Michael. It
shamed her to think that she hadn't even worried about hurting him.
Her thoughts had been all consumed by Toryn. It wasn't fair that he
was taken, or that these strangers imposed their agenda upon them.
But it also wasn't Michael's fault. She had blamed him for their
coming. When she first saw him, she distrusted him and made no
attempt at hiding her feelings.

Maybe it was only fair that he be so candid
and a little put out now.

"Thank you."

"Why?" Michael asked, defensively. "You were
the one who was tricked. You saved me." Under his breath he added,
"Instead of him."

She had been feeling sorry for the way she
treated him, though his blatant attitude struck a chord.

"How dare you act like you were cast aside!"
she yelled. "You were gone. Both of you! And I was left to figure
everything out." Pacing, Andi rambled on. "How to control my demon
abilities. How to live in a human world, knowing the truth behind
the curtain. How to carry on as if nothing ever happened."

"I know."

It was her turn to cut him off. "You were
gone. Toryn was gone. Eaten up by the underworld, for all I knew.
And here was little ole me, wondering who else in my family has a
little fire in their step. Wondering what my purpose is.

"And then you both come back, the bells of
Heaven and Hell at your heels, and I learn that I do, in fact, have
a purpose. But I don't know what it is!" She clutched the material
on her chest, screwing it with her infuriation. "I'm speaking to a
stranger, who can give me a gift but not the knowledge of how to
use it. And. And..."

Her chest started tightening, her skin
flinching from the sensation of ice shards slicing open her veins.
Dropping to her knees, Andi began struggling to inhale and exhale
properly. She held her hands out, watching as she willed them to
move but failed.

"I was supposed to stay calm," she whispered
through labored breathing.

Michael nodded. He shoved the sleeping bag
out of the way and helped her to the couch. "Here." He grabbed a
folded blanket and spread it over her. "Close your eyes and slow
your breathing."

Perching on the edge of the cushion, he
leaned over her body, resting an arm on the back of the sofa. It
was apparent that he was still recovering from his ordeal, as well.
Every movement seemed painful.

She forced her voice to say, "I'm sorry."

"Stop," he begged, rubbing his hands across
his weary face. "Stop apologizing and thanking me. You're angry.
I'm angry. Let's settle it when we wake up. For now, truce."

Curling onto her side, Andi closed her eyes
and took deep breaths. But she made the error of withdrawing from
his touch as he grazed her arm, trying to tuck it under the
blanket.

"You don't have to do that."

Opening her eyes, she was met with
distain.

"In my opinion, from experience, I do," she
countered.

"I am capable of controlling my incubus
abilities, you know."

"Are you?" She looked long and hard into his
eyes, wanting to see strength and assurance. There was only doubt.
"That's what I thought."

Already tired of Andi's erratic emotions,
Michael slowly rolled his sleeping bag across the floor, close to
the couch. He laid down and tucked in.

His voice filled the stagnant space after
many quiet minutes had passed, venturing to say, "It must be easy
for you, then. For most of us, it's a daily struggle. Hourly. I
have wrestled with mine far too long, because I want to be here, a
part of the human experience. And I can't do that if I can't
control my incubus nature. But I also can't go back to the
underworld because it would kill any part of me that has grown
here. And that would kill everything important to me."

Andi listened silently. Her chest rose and
fell in a steady motion, and the pain dwindled until she felt
normal again. It occurred to her that maybe Michael never felt
normal. As he said, he always had an internal war to fight. An
ardent force that lived inside of him, always at the ready. He
didn't need one more opposing force.

"Truce," she said, once he grew quiet.

Though he never acknowledged her sympathy,
she could hear the relief in his tone as he suggested, "Tomorrow,
we should talk about our strategy."

"For what?"

"The storm on the horizon."

Yes, their enemies were practically
smothering them, and Andi had yet to really learn who they were.
What did they need her or Toryn for? What was this great purpose
she once had? How was her family involved? And the priest... Who
was he to her, really?

So many questions, but Andi could not ignore
one eclipsing glint of knowledge.

"We're going to win," she assured
Michael.

"Don't grandstand yet," he said, hints of
weariness lacing his voice.

"I'm not. I'm foretelling the future."

Their eyes closed. Andi felt the gift
coursing through her body, silently eradicating doubt and weakness,
detaching all that might fail. It began to feel like a comforting
song Andi knew all the words to. One that fit every mood. It
promised things like victory and security.

And domination.

Thank you for reading 'Wicked Demons 2'. If
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review.

Reece lives in North Carolina with her loving
family and ever-expanding herd of fur babies. She indulges in sweet
tea way too often, and couldn't possibly begin to take over the
world without lazy afternoons at home, the perfect cup of coffee,
and a damn fine husband to do her bidding.

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