Chapter 89: My Demon
I sat up abruptly, wide-awake and crystal clear, expecting the fight of my life.
So how did I end up at home in my own bed, pajamas on, with the morning sun beaming happily in at me?
Did I dream the entire thing? Was it some kind of horrid nightmare? Had to be. How else did I make it home and into bed, safe and sound, when my mind told me I was so close to suffering a fate worse than death?
I had almost convinced myself when I happened to look down at my hands. They were filthy, coated in caked mud, one of the nails cracked and peeling, dried blood pooled around the edges. I stumbled out of bed, muscles aching. I limped the first few steps, right leg burning like I'd pulled a muscle before making it to my mirror.
And gasping at my reflection. I'd heard the expression, 'looks like hell' before, but always thought it was some kind of exaggeration.
I kid you not. I looked like... well. My previously sort of tidy ponytail hung half intact, the elastic clinging bravely to a lock of matted hair. A handful of leaves and twigs squashed next to the black tie in another clump of mud. Said dirt plastered a large mass to the side of my face, already peeling away in chunks. Dark circles carved deep caverns under my staring eyes, my face so pale and hollowed out I was sure I died after all and only my ghost made it home.
I raised one hand to touch the chunk of dirt on my face and winced. Nope, definitely alive. Being dead couldn't possibly hurt this much. I pulled back the neck of my shirt and winced at the giant bruise on the top of my right shoulder. A flash of the back of the van made me twitch so violently I whimpered from the pain it caused.
Careful inspection uncovered that I was grubby, bruised and battered, but whole. Safe. At least, in body. Now that I dealt with the physical part of me, I started worrying about the mental.
My demon. She forced her way to the surface and took over. The very thought of it terrified me so much I had to hug myself to keep from shaking apart. Bad enough she lurked in my head 24/7, screwing up my chances to be normal. But the idea she could actually shove me aside and take over made me want to scream out loud.
She was quiet for once. Almost smug. I felt around the edges of her, the part that connected to me. She seemed content, at least for the moment. Guilt surged up to smother my fear.
She did save my life after all. Our lives. I wasn't the only one with a vested interest in my survival. Ashamed and quivering, I sent her a tentative thank you.
You're welcome.
This was not good. She was still talking to me, using an actual sound that equaled a voice. She'd never done that before. Either hadn't been able or chose not to. Part of me always thought of her as separate, as though we were two people in one body. Recently, I started to notice her restlessness. How she pushed the edge between us. Ever since we defeated Cesard and I'd used all that demon magic, or let her use it, to be more precise, it felt like she wasn't satisfied with a secondary role anymore.
Honestly though, she hadn't done anything about it. At least not until the Chosen tried to kill me. Us. As much as her new independent streak worried me, I never really believed she would really try anything like this. I guess because I wasn't sure she could.
She'd clearly proven not only was it a possibility, she liked it. And I knew the moment I let my guard down, she'd be trying it again.
Yes, I remained grateful. But fear skimmed back to the surface and wouldn't go away.
I needed to talk to her. To sort all this out. She had to know I wasn't going to let her just shunt me aside so she could run around with my body.
I didn't get a chance to explore the whole thing further, at least not right then. Partly because my door slammed open and my mother rushed in.
It wouldn't have been so bad if it was just her physically. Mom had a certain emotional presence as well, especially when she thought I was in danger. She may be the head of our coven and the most powerful witch in a century, but she was still my mother. Sure, she was gifted with not only witch magic, but vampire, Sidhe and demon power as well. And just because she sat at the core of the family, a rock, calm and unfaltering, didn't mean she couldn't bring me to tears just by the touch of her feelings. And right now, she was a mess.
I'd never seen her so afraid. Even after all the family went through, with the attacks against the coven, the undermining by some of our own members, Mom seemed like she always knew what to do.
Not this time. She was clearly terrified, flawless face creased with it. When she saw me, she lunged forward and grabbed me, hugging me to her so hard it made me cry out in pain.
"Sydlynn," Mom said, pulling back, tears on her face, more brimming in her deep blue eyes. "Where have you been?"
I opened my mouth to answer and caught my breath. Alison stood in my doorway, looking as scared and relieved as Mom.
"Al," I whispered. Mom spun around, her composure returning the moment she spotted the pretty blonde.
"Hey, Syd." Alison tried for casual, but I could see how worried she was in the way her hands and voice shook. "You missed some great camping."
What could I say? I scared the daylights out of my friends, obviously. I couldn't just tell her the truth, either. Oh, right Al, sorry about that, but some psycho guy who tried to burn me at the stake decided to kidnap me.
Nope. Not happening.
"Sorry," I said, feeling so lame I wanted to fall into the hole in the floor I wished would open up for just that reason. "I wasn't feeling well so I came home."
Alison opened her mouth to say something, but Mom beamed a smile at her.
"We're just happy you're okay." She hugged me again, gently, while her mind touched mine. I may need to tamper with Alison's memory.
I hated the thought of that. I trusted my mom of course, but screwing around with someone's mind was never the best option.
"You weren't here," Alison said. "We checked."
"I know," I fumbled around the rest of the lie I'd concocted right at that second. "I decided to walk home and got lost in the woods." I looked down at myself. "Stupid, I know."
Alison still looked skeptical. And now a little mad.
"You could have maybe told someone." I could feel Mom tense beside me, ready to tamper.
"It was a terrible migraine," I said. "I wasn't thinking straight, I guess."
Alison seemed like she wanted to say something else then rolled her shoulders in a shrug and smiled at me. "I'm just glad you're okay, Syd."
I lurched forward and hugged her. "Thanks, Al," I whispered.
She backed off a bit and made a face. "Um, you may want to take a shower, girlfriend."
Tell me about it. "I'll call you later, okay?"
"Okay then." Alison looked back and forth between me and Mom. "I guess I'll go home?"
I let Mom escort her out, breathing out a deep sigh of regret and released tension as I sank onto the end of my bed. It was only a matter of moments before I heard the front door slam and Alison's car start up, followed by the soft but steady tread of my mother's footsteps as she returned to my room.
As soon as she stepped through the door, I burst into tears.
***
The day turned colder, just enough of a misty rain coming down that I felt wrapped up in a miserable shell of wet. I shivered inside my raincoat with the hood pulled up over my shower damp hair, the scent of my favorite apple shampoo still lingering, and watched as James Crossman and Martin Vega slid down the bank and to the edge of the river. I saw deep tracks where the van had gone off the road, but the water below raced by, empty.
My fingers slid up to my face, running over the bruise I'd discovered under the big clump of mud. Nasty. As much as it hurt, I couldn't help but keep prodding at it. I'd take the distraction, thanks.
Erica Plower, my mother's best friend and second, stood next to me with an arm wrapped around my shoulders. She always tried to mother me. She and Mom were so close and shared everything, it usually felt like I had one too many parents. But this time I didn't mind. The pretty, slender blonde with the shining bob and perfect makeup may have been a pain in the butt sometimes, but she cared and that was all that mattered at the moment.
I leaned into her and the warmth seeping through my vinyl jacket as James turned, his concerned gaze searching my face. He held out one hand to guide my mother down the steep hill. I knew a number of the coven members blamed me for a lot of what went on the last six months or so, despite the fact none of it was my fault. James happened to be one of them, his wife Sandra still recovering from being kidnapped by Cesard. But he should have been grateful. I rescued his wife, didn't I? Their sweet little girl Eliza still had a mom.
Martin winked at me and gave me a thumbs up. I managed a weak grin back. At least the Vegas still supported me. Louisa and Martin adored me yet, no matter what happened.
Still, this was the most trouble the coven encountered since the Hayle family took over about a century and a half ago. Even I was beginning to think I attracted bad luck. Celeste Oberman, one of the stronger witches, already challenged my mother a couple of times. I didn't worry the woman could ever win. But division in the family was not easy and often ended in a very ugly manner.
I shivered and worried and waited, hating I could be the cause of yet another reason for the family to doubt Mom. But more than that, my shaking wouldn't stop because I knew my demon was willing to kill to protect us. The clipped together memory of the tumbling van, images flashing like stop action animation wasn't helping much either.
Fortunately, it wasn't long before Mom and the two men returned and came to huddle around us.
"There are pretty deep marks down there," Martin said in his softly accented voice. "And more at the top here. Looks like someone already towed the wreck."
James nodded, hunched inside his wool coat. "For all we know the police were called. We should check the paper in the morning and see if there was an accident reported."
"Thank you, everyone." Mom stepped up beside me. "We need to be extra cautious from now on. I'll call a full coven meeting, but please pass the word. The Chosen are very dangerous. If anyone spots a member of their order they are to contact me immediately after moving to safety."
The two men nodded. James left without another word, but Martin took a moment to kiss me noisily on the cheek.
"Just glad you're okay, chiquita." He hugged me hard, smelling of the earth and delicious food. My stomach growled, and he laughed. He kissed Erica's hand with a wink before bowing to my mother.
I watched him drive away, wishing things could be so simple, that everyone could look at the world with such love and grace as the Vegas. I met my mother's eyes and knew she thought the same thing.
"Mom," I said, voice shaking. "What am I going to do?"
"We'll make sure the Chosen aren't a threat anymore," she said. I knew she meant it. The next one of the order to show up in Wilding Springs would probably find him or herself quite abruptly transformed into something horrible. But that wasn't what I was thinking about.
"My demon." It came out in a whisper. As though bringing her up would stir her. And it did. I felt her stretch and yawn within me, as if waking from a nap or something. She growled in contentment and pushed against my mind. Without thinking, I gasped and pushed back.
She snarled in answer.
Mom exchanged a look with Erica before turning to me. "Syd," Mom said, "stop fighting it."
I shook my head, backing away from Erica, feeling her arm drop away. Panic seized me and I pushed harder. "I can't."
Mom sighed. "Sweetheart, the harder you fight, the harder it is for you. You know that, don't you?"
Of course she was right. The intellectual part of me understood 100%. Completely rational. Too bad I'd already tossed logic. The irrational, childish, fearful part of me wanted to kick the demon out so I could just have my life to myself.
"Without your magic, you'd be gone. The Chosen would have killed you." Erica's voice was soft for once, not the overbearing tone she usually used. She sounded as worried as Mom. "Syd, you need this part of you. You're half demon. It's time to start accepting it."
My demon rumbled her agreement. Paying attention?
I felt the blood drain from my face as my mother went on, oblivious.
"Besides," Mom said, "you were under the influence of a drug at the time. Who knows what kind of influence that had on you."
My demon tensed inside me as though she hadn't considered that. Which made me feel a little better. Not much though. I was standing in the misty rain talking to my mom about the demon who lived inside me like she didn't belong there. It felt wrong. She did belong there. Didn't she? This was so weird.
At least you see that much. My demon sounded more than a little put out.
Mom guided me to Erica's van and helped me in the back seat while I whined about my injuries privately to myself. My right leg ached so much I wished I was little so Mom could carry me.
Only I didn't have privacy.
Stop being such a baby.
I slumped in my seat and tried not to hear her. Or feel her as she pushed the boundary between us. I had the sudden feeling my mother was wrong. Drugged or not, now that she knew what it felt like, I knew my demon was determined to be free.
Even if that meant getting rid of me to do it.
Only if you get in my way.
***
