Darkness Brutal (The Dark Cycle Book 1) (17 page)

TWENTY-THREE

When we pull into the garage, Connor jumps right out, but I stay, still a little in shock at having invited Rebecca here. Sid doesn’t seem inclined to leave the car, either. After a few minutes of silence, he can’t keep his mouth shut.

“Do I need to say it?” he asks.

“I know, it was dumb.”

“This place needs to be kept a secret, Aidan.”

I nod.

“Who is this girl?”

“I met her at SubZero.”

“A club bunny? You gave our address to a club bunny?”

“It’s not like that. There were these guys, and I saved her, and then there was this demon, but I wasn’t sure what it meant because the sigil was so monumental, but then I went to the party, and the demon confronted me, and it knows that I can see it, and I have no idea what to do about it, but I know it’s not good and that it wants Rebecca dead like her brother and that it’ll skin me alive for helping her—”

“Whoa!” Sid says, holding up a hand. “This demon knows that you can
see
it?”

I swallow hard. “I don’t think it realized that it could touch me physically, though. I don’t think it—hell, I have no idea. Who am I kidding? I’m in so far over my head.”

“Do you think it told others?”

“It said it’d keep quiet as long as I stayed out of its way.”

This seems to shock him. “It
said
—you understood it?”

“Yes.”

He thinks for a second. “I suppose this makes sense, considering.”

“Considering what?” Makes
sense
? None of this makes sense.

“You already said that you spoke several languages. Now you say that you understand the language of angels—fallen ones, that is. I could be right: this could be the gift of tongues.”

I stare at him, a little stunned. “What do you mean you were right? You knew I had this . . . tongues thing? What does that even mean?”

“It’s why I was so interested in the languages you speak. They link to deeper parts of the—”

He stops, maybe sensing how lost I am about what he’s saying. Then he starts over. “Look, this gift creates a bridge in your mind—we’ll call it
Wisdom
. Some believe that King Solomon had this same gift, an ability to speak in all tongues.

“Legend has it that he also knew many sacred texts by heart and could recite them on command. As his father, King David, said:
Your word I have hidden in my heart . . .
”

My insides go still at the revelation that I’m not the only one who’s ever had these odd abilities. Solomon may have lived thousands of years ago, but he lived. And there may be others besides him—besides me—who have gifts like this. My ability to see demons, my knowing . . . it’s all pieces of a puzzle.

Sid seems to sense my reaction. “The texts? Is that another one of your gifts?”

I nod.

He blows out a long breath, looking stunned. “Then you definitely have the gift of Wisdom, not just the gift of Sight. Amazing.”

That’s one word for it. I just want to know why.

“So all that with the demon and the Rebecca girl happened last night?” Sid asks.

I nod again.

“And you brought Kara home after everything and you had
sex
with her?”

“No!”

“You were in her bed this morning. Naked.”

I choke out a laugh. Where did this come from? “I had my pants on. She had her pants on.”

He doesn’t look pissed, which feels weird to me; however, he does seem determined to uncover the truth. “But something did happen.”

“We kissed. That’s all. And how is this relevant or even any of your business?” I snap.

His eyes hover on my mark and then flick back to my face. “Be careful with her, Aidan. She’s . . . delicate.”

“Fine,” I say, even though she seems like the least
delicate
girl on the planet.

He opens the Jeep door and gets out. I follow, asking, “So maybe you can help me with the demon? And Rebecca?”

“What is it you think I can do for her, exactly?”

“I just . . . I can’t do this on my own. I need to somehow trap the thing to keep it from spilling my secret to the rest of the horde.”

“Trap a demon.” His voice sounds incredulous as he walks out of the garage and down the path across the backyard.

“I do it all the time,” I say, trailing behind. “To the smaller ones that discover I can see them. In a spirit bowl or a hex box. Even a simple circle will do it sometimes if you surround it in the right text.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. “You, my boy, are perfection.”

“Glad you’re impressed,” I mumble.

“Merely surprised you’d know that kind of trickery. And all on your own. Yet again, amazing.” He stops beside the shack and turns to study me for a second. Then asks, “How large is it, this demon?”

“It’s a midlevel one, I think.”

I can tell by his reaction that he knows exactly what I mean. Somehow I’m not surprised. “And it’s assigned to this human, Rebecca?” he asks.

“I think so.”

He chews on that and then pats me on the back. “I want to show you something.”

He waves with his walking stick for me to follow as he goes to the door of the shed.

I have to force myself to follow him. While I’m insanely curious about what’s inside that rickety shack and why he sleeps there, I feel a very strong magic pulsing off the foundation. Like a warning.

“You really sleep in that thing?” I ask.

He stops in front of the door and begins unlocking the many locks. “Sacrifices must be made at times.”

I have no idea what he means, but my heart begins hammering in my chest.

One of the chains falls to the side, then another.

“You do magic in there, don’t you?” I ask as another lock comes undone.

He glances at me sideways. “You don’t approve.”

“I’m cautious. Not all magic is good.”

He gives me a sad smile. “No. Not all magic is good.” And then the shed door is opening. I step back, away from the energy that spills out. It’s rich and thick, like molasses or tree sap. It smells like damp earth. And burnt hair. There’s fear in there. And urgency. Loss.

What kind of shit is this guy mixed up in? I’ve never felt anything quite like it. Not casting magic exactly… but what else could it be?

I watch him in the murky shadows as he goes inside and crouches over something. I make myself move closer to get a better look.

He’s digging in an old trunk at the foot of a small cot. Next to him, there’s a shelf stacked with odd-shaped bottles, chalk markings on the floor, candles, smudge, and an animal’s skull on the dresser—the altar. Before I can get a better grip on the good or evil of it all, Sid’s found what he was looking for.

I’m dying to ask him a jumble of questions, but before I can choose which one to ask first, he finishes locking the door again and holds out a pouch: blue velvet, drawn with a gold string—like a jewelry bag.

“What’s that?” I ask, not sure I want to touch it.

“Don’t worry, Aidan, it’s safe. In fact, it’ll protect you.” He moves his hand, urging me to take it.

I can see he’s not going to let me get out of accepting, so I pick it up by the golden thread and hold it in front of me, trying to search out the energy inside. But all I feel is . . . nothing.

I open the blue velvet and turn it upside down. Two small coins roll out into my palm. No, not coins. Amulets.

“These are Eric’s,” I say. They’re the same pieces Eric asked me to read a few weeks back. All I could tell him was what the engravings on the amulets said, because the energy was empty—which, by the look on Eric’s face, seemed to have told him everything he needed to know.

“Yes.” Sid nods. “He was searching them out for me. One belonged to my mentor long ago, and one to King Nebuchadnezzar and King Darius after him.”

“You mean, like, the kings of Babylon?”

“Yes.”

Wow. I roll them with my fingers. “How did your mentor have one of these? Eric told me he picked them up on his last trip to Iraq.”

“A story for another day,” Sid says. “For now, all that’s important is that Eric found them. And they can be yours.”

The conflicting feelings in my gut go a little quieter. “You’re
giving
them to me?” I know Eric probably charged Sid a small fortune for the things. “Why?”

“You need them.”

“What are they for?”

“I should make you tell me, but since you trusted me, I’ll let this be a freebie.” He reaches out and touches one of them. “What does that say?”

I don’t have to look at it. I remember the symbols. “Cloaked. Or invisible.”

“Yes. If you wear this on a chain, over your heart, it will cloak you.” When I frown at him he adds, “From demons. Or anything not fully on this plane.”

“This will hide me from demons? Seriously?”

“Yes.”

I stare at the amulets in my hand in amazement. Two of them. One for me and one for Ava. Could it really be so easy?

“So one’s for the girl,” he says. “What’s her name again?”

I pause, realizing he’s not talking about Ava. Obviously he’s thinking of Rebecca. He doesn’t have a clue of what’s going on with Ava. “Rebecca,” I say.

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Lovely. Once this is bound to her aura, she’ll be safe from that creature following her.”

I should’ve known. “You want to do a spell on her.”

“A simple bonding spell. Nothing unnatural.”

“I’m not sure I like that idea.” I hold out the amulets for him to take back.

He closes my fingers over them and pushes my hand toward my chest. “No rash decisions now. Think on it.”

“You can’t just cast over someone’s soul and not be changing its nature.”

“Not all casting is bad, Aidan.”

“I know that. I trap demons, I get it. But I’ve seen what a misuse of messing in the wrong powers can do. It can tear lives apart. It can kill.”

His body goes still, and he seems to sense that my struggle is deeper than my words. “You’ve seen things in your life. I can tell. You have a wise soul in more ways than one, and I admire your caution. Of course, I would never do anything to harm your friend. Or you. There are rules that have to be followed when you walk the fine line of magic. But I can teach you if you’d like.”

Do I want to dig deeper into that stuff? The stuff that put me in this place I’m in right now? “I don’t know.”

“But you will consider what I’ve said?”

I breathe in through my nose. Breathe out. “I will.” Even though I’m not sure what to think. And then something else comes to me. “Was the spell you did on Kara following these safety rules?”

The side of his mouth twitches. “She told you about that? You saw her mark?”

“She told me you bought her for six hundred thousand dollars and locked a curse inside her. But that’s just a part of it. Because even I know that when you do something for someone and it’s supposedly pure, there’s no strings attached. And Kara definitely has strings.”

His nostrils flare. “Are you suggesting I’ve enslaved her?”

“She certainly acts like she’s indebted to you.”

He comes forward and points his walking stick at the house. “Because I freed her from a horrifying curse. I put the power into her hands.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He seethes for a second and then seems to realize something. “You care about her.” He sniffs the air. “You smell like her. She’s on your skin.”

My teeth clench.

A knowing smile grows across his face as he shakes his head. “Oh no—she’s not going to be on your list of damsels in distress. She’s too important for that. The last thing that girl needs is to be crushed again.”

“You don’t have to worry about your glass princess. No part of me is in her life.” I’m surprised by the sour taste in my mouth. Am I actually bummed about this?

“The Rebecca girl can stay two nights,” Sid says, changing the subject. “That’s enough time to make sure the amulet works to hide her. But then she’ll need to go home. Out of your life for good.”

I look at the amulets in my hand and then at him.

“She’s not one of us, Aidan. She’s not a part of this.” He touches my arm in a fatherly way. “I know what you’re feeling. I was a boy once, too. But trust me when I say our two worlds don’t cross in safety.”

I nod my surrender. It is his house.

And I know deep down he’s right.

“I’ll help you find your family like you asked,” he continues. “And I’ll help you learn more about how better to use your gifts, if you’ll let me. But you’ll have to open yourself up to it. And you’ll have to let go of your fears.” He gives me a tired smile. “As Emerson would say:
always do what you are afraid to do
.”

But I’m beginning to realize my fear is much larger than I thought. I’m afraid of too many things. Of losing Ava, of losing myself.

“Thank you,” I say. “Thanks for letting Ava and me stay. And thanks for being patient with me. I want to learn, I do.” It may be the only way left to save Ava. “I’m just not sure I want to lie to people, like you did today.”

He taps my foot gently with his cane. “Just follow my lead, son. We’ll end up on the right side in the end. I promise.”

TWENTY-FOUR

To distract myself while I wait for Rebecca, I go back into the office and to my LA Paranormal grunt work. Ava comes in, and I ask her to hang out and help so I can spend some time with her and we can take a break from all the pressure we’ve been under.

Since the vision of the demon and the cave and our talk about the spell, she’s seemed sad, agitated. At the moment she feels more like herself again.

She sits cross-legged on the floor surrounded by files and has fun reading out some of the cases as we alphabetize them by name and color code them by paranormal activity: blue for ghosts, green for poltergeists, or what I would call a lower demon, and yellow for “unidentified creatures.” Ava seems to like the yellow category best. She reads me the files out loud for two of them: a house full of “ghost bats” and a place called Scary Dairy where you can hear the screams of the cows being slaughtered.

“Is that real?” she asks. “Sounds ridiculous. I don’t think cows can even scream.”

I shrug. “Who knows. I have a feeling some of LA Paranormal’s cases are a little
embellished
.” I pause. “But these guys do seem to know their stuff.”

She sets down the folder she’s holding and looks up at me. “So you think we’re safe here?”

“For a while.” I don’t want to say what I really think:
I don’t know, Ava. I wish I knew, but I don’t
. Fate isn’t an easy thing to stop.

“I wish I could do something,” she says, picking up another folder.

“You just rest and try to focus on holding back your abilities.”

She sighs and flips through the folder, looking unhappy. “If that’s what you want.”

I’m starting to worry about what’s taking Rebecca so long when Lester hollers “Soup’s on!”

Ava skips out of the office, and I follow. I don’t bother closing the door of the downstairs bathroom while I wash my hands before eating. But as I’m rinsing, I see in the mirror that Sid is standing behind me, right outside the bathroom. Staring.

“Can I help you?” I ask. Why is he looking at me like that? It’s freaking creepy.

He points at my arm. “Have you noticed? Your mark has grown.”

The hiss of the running water echoes in my head as I glance down.

My heart stops.

The mark. It’s even larger—all the way past my elbow and halfway up my bicep. I’ve had my hoodie on for most of the day and just took it off a minute ago. So, no, I hadn’t noticed.

What the ever-loving . . . ?

“Have you spoken to Kara?” Sid asks through my panic.

“Why?” I can’t stop looking at the new lines and twists on my skin.

“She’s obviously affected it somehow. You kissed her, didn’t you?”

“What? Why would that matter?” Kissing Kara couldn’t affect my mark. Could it?

“Maybe you should ask her about it,” Sid says and walks away.

“That’s insane,” I mumble to myself. “It’s completely . . .” But the words fade. Because something comes to me: the memory of kissing her in the club. And that next day, after I took my shower, I noticed my mark had changed. I assumed it was the demon bite, but . . .

I stand there, caught in a vortex of what-the-fuck, running over the events of the last several days, trying to piece it all together, as the sound of the faucet hisses in the background.

The demon bit me the day before my mark grew the first time. But I kissed Kara that night, too. And last night my arm buzzed when I touched her.

Plus, there’s the stuff that Mom told Ava in the dream about the violets and the lilies, and the symbol in Kara’s tattoo, the one that matches mine . . .

Could Kara really be doing this to me? But what is
this
?

. . . he must touch the violets and lilies to find surrender, to find his hidden blood . . .

I shut off the sink and go look for Kara in the kitchen.

“Not here,” Lester says, doling out some lasagna onto a plate.

“She’s probably too scared of Lester’s cooking,” Jax says. “Smart girl.”

As they go back and forth trading insults, I head into the hall and up the stairs. I feel as if I’m being pulled by fate, and I don’t like the feeling. I don’t like believing I can’t change something already set in motion.

I knock on Kara’s door—maybe a little harder than I need to—and hear movement on the other side. “Kara, let me in. I need to talk to you.”

“Go away,” comes her voice, muffled through the wood. “I’m not hungry.”

“I’m going to camp out here until you open this door. Eat Lester’s lasagna, sleep in boxers, you name it, I’m—”

The door swings open. “You have two seconds.”

I push my way past and shut us in her room.

“What the hell?”

“We need to talk.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “We really don’t. In fact, I think it’s best if we act like we can’t stand each other. This whole thing with you waking up in my bed has become a total mess. Jax is a dick, Holly tried to have a ‘girl chat’ with me—wanted to braid my hair and paint my nails or some shit.” She takes a step closer and points at the door. “You need to get out. Before someone notices.”

“You did something to me.”

She blinks, frozen, her arm still hovering in the air. The bruise on her forearm is deep purple. “What are you talking about?”

I hold out my arm to show her my mark. “You made this change. It only went halfway up my forearm yesterday morning. Now it’s all the way past my elbow. What sort of power are you using on me?”

Her nostrils flare, and she slaps me. Hard. “Get the fuck out of my room.”

The left side of my face burns. “Holy shit, woman. What was that for?”

“You prick. What do you think I am?”

I hesitate. Okay, I’m obviously not approaching this right. I hold up my hands. “What am I supposed to think, Kara? We’ve kissed twice, and both times were . . . weird. Like it wasn’t really my choice.”

She flinches as if I just struck
her
instead of the other way around.

Damn.

“I’ve
never
used my powers on you,” she says.

“How is that possible?” I say, but I see that she’s telling the truth. “But . . . then . . . why did you pull me in at the club?”

“I was dancing, you were there. And I felt something—I never feel anything. So I kissed you.”

“You just kissed me? That’s it?”

“Yes! And it was like—it felt like
you
were doing something to
me
.” She pokes me in the chest. “And then I saw you come up the walk the next day. I was in shock. I couldn’t imagine how you found me. But then you didn’t even remember me! Do you kiss every girl you dance with at that club?”

I shake my head, still not sure how to digest what’s happening. “But in the hall, when I first came here, you were doing something. Your energy was—”

She waves her hand, like she’s brushing the notion aside. “I’d opened myself up a little, that’s all. I sure as hell didn’t use any of my shit on you. Trust me, you’d know.”

“And last night . . .”

She glares at me.

Something strange and unnatural definitely happened between us, and I’d assumed it was her curse, her power of attraction. “Then why . . . how come it felt so . . . uncontrolled? And why the hell is my mark growing?”

She shrugs. “You touched the tattoo on my back and something happened.”

I try to soften my tone. “What did
you
feel?”

She swallows and backs up more. “That seems like pointless information right now.”

“Pointless?” I can’t help my exasperation coming through. “My mark is changing, Kara.
Changing
. It’s happened twice. And how many times have we kissed? Oh, twice.”

“So we don’t ever kiss again. Problem solved.”

“Kara. You know that’s not going to work.”

“Why?” There’s a pleading edge to her voice now, like she just wants the conversation to be over. “Are you planning on kissing me again or something?”

“Maybe. We should at least see what’s going on.”

Her eyes grow. She seems frightened. And I can’t for the life of me understand why. “What are you scared of?” When she doesn’t say anything, I add, “This isn’t even affecting you. I’m the one who’s changing.”

“I told you.” Her voice shakes. “It’s like you’re doing something to me, too.”

“What do you think I’m doing to you?”

She shrugs.

“Talk to me, Kara.”

Her eyes glisten with tears and her jaw is tight. She shakes her head, like she can’t say the words.

The sight of the crack in her wall again—a girl that I know could kick my ass—makes my stomach hurt and reminds me of Sid’s warning:
she’s delicate
. “
Did
I do something to you?”

She shakes her head again.

“Well, what is it then?” I ask quietly.

“I told you, I’m cursed,” she whispers. “You should just stay away from me.”

“You’re not cursed, Kara.”

“Yes. I am.”

I step forward to reach out, but she steps back.

“Just go,” she says.

I drop my arm to my side, defeated. “Okay.” I turn and leave the room.

I stand in the hall for a long time beside her door. There’s something going on with her, but she’s not willing to talk about it. I could push her, but I’d probably just end up pushing her away. And I’m tired. The closer I get to answers, the more questions rise to the surface. And now another door just slammed in my face.