Halfling (Black Petals Book 1) (12 page)

“Yeah, you would think, but here you are, messing with my mojo!” I blab, not even making much sense. My mojo? What the hell is mojo? What does that even mean?

Crispen cocks an eyebrow at me and then walks casually down the hallway. He returns a few moments later fully clothed. “Is this better?”

I nod. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Keep the questions coming,” he urges while picking up a banana, opening it, and then biting into it.

“Tell me about yourself,” I decide after a moment. It isn’t a question, but it’s something I need to know. “Like about you and what you are.”

He takes another large bite of his banana and then tosses the peel into the trash. He looks to me, bites his cheek nervously, and then nods. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

He chuckles. “Okay, well, I was born on May 2, 1687, so technically, I’m over three centuries old, but I have not physically or mentally aged past twenty-five since that was the age which I became immortal. My parents were Anna and Thomas Desmond. My sister received my mother’s name as her middle name; my brother received my father’s name as his middle name. My middle name comes from my grandfather Alexander. My father was a businessman. To this day, I’m not sure what exactly it was he did. My mother stayed home with us kids. It’s hard to remember them and photographs didn’t really exist back then. Of course many people had paintings done, but our parents never did. I recall that my mother looked a lot like Aria and my father was tall, broad, and stern. My mother loved to bake, whereas my father loved to spend his time working.” Crispen stops to clear his throat. His eyes are in another time, they’re blank as he goes back centuries.

“I remember very little. It was a long time ago. A very long time ago. Three centuries ago. You have no idea how long that is,” he mutters and shakes his head. “I remember the pain I felt while being made into what I am. I also remember the pain afterwards.” Crispen almost winces as if he’s experiencing the pain all over again. “Mason left out some of the gory details about how we came to be what we are today. Mason was created using an elixir and magic that to this day I don’t understand. I must believe in magic, I’ve seen it in action after all, but it’s hard sometimes. I’ve only really seen it once and that was centuries ago. It seems like a dream now.”

He pulls open a drawer and removes a few large plastic bags full of leaves. “These are the herbs we use to make the brass harmful to demons and halflings. Some are fairly common like sage, others are a little more difficult to find. They were especially hard to find centuries ago before all of these big department stores started popping up with everything from goldfish to patio furniture to pancakes. It was a different world back then, there’s no way to explain it to you.” Crispen begins preparing a mixture of the herbs as if he’s going to make up a batch of demon killing weapons right now. “Like I said before, this isn’t magic. It’s just a mixture of herbs. I can’t help but wonder if the magic in the elixir that made Mason immortal was also no more than mere herbs.” He’s silent a moment as he throws some herbs together into a small bowl and then wraps it in plastic wrap. “Like Mason said, the alchemists were wiped out by 1740. Any trace of magic that there once may have been, it’s gone now.”

For some reason, the thought that magic existed once long ago really doesn’t seem that far-fetched. Maybe it’s because, like Crispen said, it’s impossible for me to imagine what things might have been like back then. When I try to imagine it, I see things like the Salem witch trials and people thinking that the earth was flat. It
was
an entirely different time, almost another world completely. Maybe, if that type of magic existed today, or if modern science existed back then, there would be some sort of scientific explanation for it all.

“Anyways,” he continues. “The process of becoming what we are wasn’t just a simple thing. After Mason became a hunter, he was crazed with hunger. It was a hunger that regular food couldn’t quench.”

I think back to some sappy vampire movie I watched with Crispen a few weeks ago and nearly blanch. “Are you about to tell me that you guys are vampires?” I spit out.

Crispen looks at me like I’m an idiot and squints at me as if trying to see through my stupidity. Then his face smooths over, and he bursts out laughing. “Vampires, Megan? Really? Of course not! Vampires don’t exist.” He says this as if it’s common knowledge. Well, not long ago, I thought demons weren’t real, so this doesn’t seem like such a crazy idea.

I scowl at him and his laughing comes to an end.

“This hunger that Mason had, it was for
murder
. He couldn’t stop thinking about demons. He wanted them all dead more than anything. Anger and vengeance took over him. After he made Aria and myself like him by mixing his blood with ours, we were taken over by this strong urge as well. All three of us lost ourselves for a time and when we finally learnt to deal with the lust to kill and were able to manage regular thought, we were changed people and nearly fifty years had somehow passed.”

I wince. I can’t imagine being controlled by anger. I do such stupid things when I’m angry. I would probably blow up buildings and lose my temper on small things like my toast not popping fast enough.

“Obviously the pull to kill is still in us, engrained to our very core, but we are able to control it now, though sometimes we still lose control. By killing demons often, we are able to keep a firmer hold on ourselves,” Crispen says sounding sad. He rolls an apple around in his palms. “Over time we discovered our new abilities. We learnt that we were extremely fast, strong, quick thinking, and our hearing was extremely improved. One thing that did not come with what we were, was our ability to fight. We didn’t gain this knowledge or experience until years later. It’s a good thing that the demons didn’t know our weaknesses back then, because we wouldn’t have lasted long.” Crispen throws some dirty dishes from breakfast into the dishwasher behind him. “We created more like us, lots more, because the demon population was skyrocketing, as if they were making some sort of army.”

I adjust my position on the couch so that I’m no longer looking at Crispen but rather at the roof. I lie down on my back as he continues again, and I take it all in with interest. “They
did
eventually find our weakness though. We took demons down as fast as they took us down. Then a few decades ago, the demons went nearly silent. Their population came to a low and so did our own population. The further down the line the new hunters were, the weaker they were, and the easier to kill. Some became more like the humans than like my siblings and I. They could be killed as easily as any human, some even aged. So, without the stronger of us hunters making more hunters, the population dropped as they one by one were killed off by demons. We haven’t made a new hunter in decades, because we haven’t had to with the low demon rates, and we don’t dare damn someone to this life for
fun
. It is not a simple life nor an easy one. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. There are only a few handfuls of us left around the world.” This all seems like a fictional story, not a darn history lesson.

Crispen stands up straighter and begins flipping through a newspaper on the counter. I can see him from the corner of my eye.

“What?” Crispen asks as if he’s talking to himself. I wonder if he’s seen something in the paper that has lead him to speak to himself. I do that sometimes. Call me crazy.

A moment of silence.

“No, don’t kill him. I want my turn to try getting something out of him first,” he grumbles. I sit up and look to him, wondering if he’s talking on his cell phone.

Moments later, Aria is in the room, Mason tailing her. I realize that the three of them are having a conversation. One of which, I can only hear half of.

“You may as well go take your turn now then,” Aria suggests. I notice that black ink-like splotches are all over her clothes and same with Mason’s.

“You have demon blood all over you guys. Is there anything left of him for me to deal with?” Crispen asks humorously. “Jesus. Did you tear him apart?” Demon blood? I come to the conclusion that demons have black blood. For some reason this grosses me out more than red blood would have.

“Pretty much. The fucker won’t say a word,” Mason shouts angrily and throws a knife down onto the table. “He keeps saying his father will kill him if he talks. I don’t think he gets that we’ll kill him if he
doesn’t
talk.”

“Easy with the foul language, buddy. There are ladies present,” Crispen warns with a death glare, and he looks to me.

Mason follows his gaze. “Sorry, Megan,” he grunts and then offers a light smile.

“Hey, I’m also a lady. Why aren’t you apologizing to me?” Aria demands, pushing his shoulder and scowling at him.

“Oh, really? You’re a lady? I never would’ve guessed,” Mason teases. Before I have the chance to comprehend what’s happening, the knife that Mason set down is suddenly in his shoulder blade.

I gasp loudly and jump off of the couch. Crispen looks to me with apology in his eyes.

Aria giggles, and I come to the conclusion that she is the culprit. Blood runs down his back. Crispen rounds the room and yanks the knife from his brother’s back effortlessly.

“Cut it out, you two, you’re going to frighten Megan,” Crispen warns harshly, sending scowls in both of their directions.

Aria and Mason exchange a look which can only be described as a ‘this isn’t over’ glare.

Blood stops flowing from Mason’s shoulder blade, and I let out a sigh of relief. I will never get used to that whole abnormally fast healing thing, or the whole having friendly knife fights in the front room thing. I find myself staring at all of the blood on his shirt and the drops that have made it to the floor. Staring at it makes me queasy, suddenly I’m insanely dizzy. Maybe it’s the blood and everything going on inside my head, I don’t know, but next thing I know, everything goes black.

“Hey, Megan, wake up,” a high voice calls into my ear. I open my eyes groggily and find myself staring into Aria’s blue eyes. They’re so much like Crispen’s that at first I’m confused. It doesn’t take me long though to take a look at the rest of her and remember that Crispen doesn’t have boobs or long hair. The last time I seen Aria her hair was tousled, and I think she was wearing her pajamas. Now though, she is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her hair poker straight.

“What’s up?” I mumble, my voice cracking. I try to recall why I fell asleep in the middle of the day, but I don’t remember anything at first. Moments later, I put the pieces together. I passed out when I saw all of the blood. I’m such a wimp. How embarrassing. First the demon blood and then Mason’s blood. It overwhelmed me obviously.

“Crispen is downstairs with Blayk, and Mason ran out to get some of your stuff and fetch a few things. I thought I better check on you. You hit your head pretty hard when you…uh…when you collapsed. Crispen thought you might have a concussion so he told me to keep an eye on you. He also said you shouldn’t be sleeping if you have a concussion. It took me a while to wake you up. You were out cold,” Aria explains apologetically and removes something wet from my forehead. It’s a cloth.

“How long have I been out?” I wonder and begin to sit up. I’m stopped by a slicing pain on my forehead. My hand moves instinctively to touch the sore spot. Yup, a fresh bump is smack dab in the middle of my forehead. Lovely. It feels like just days ago I had one just like it from getting run over.

“Easy, girl,” Aria warns and reaches for something beside her. She hands me a bag of frozen peas. I gently take them from her and set them onto my throbbing forehead. Why am I so clumsy? I couldn’t have fallen onto the couch, or at least managed to not whack my head on something? Typical me.

“I think I cracked my skull,” I mutter dramatically and close my eyes. My headache seems to be more painful with them open due to the bright lighting of the room.

Aria laughs and hands me a glass of water.

“Thanks,” I mumble and hastily and take the glass from her. It’s not until now that I realize just how thirsty I am.

“Do you want some of these? My brother told me to give you some if you were in pain.” She shakes a small pill bottle in front of my face. “I guess that’s one plus side to dating a doctor.”

What she says lastly doesn’t click in my head for a few seconds. I’m not sure if it’s my possible concussion, all that’s on my mind, my exhaustion, or if I’m just slow. “What?” I ask quickly. “We’re not dating,” I blabber, tripping over my words.

Her eyes widen and she smiles. “Are you saying that you don’t see anything in my brother?”

I wonder if he told her about that night at the bar. “Well, he’s a great friend, but I don’t think anything more.”

Her eyes widen slightly and a short laugh escapes her lips. “He hasn’t left your side in weeks. He’s a caring guy, don’t get me wrong, but he probably wouldn’t do that for a human, let alone someone who’s part demon. At first, it may have been curiosity, but now? I’d say it’s something more. He cares more for you than just as a friend, and I’m not dumb, I see that you care about him as more than a friend too.”

I recall what he said to me that night at the bar. He’d said something like he wanted to be with me but he couldn’t. His reasoning for saying this now sends off alerts in my head. He’d said that there were things he didn’t want to get me involved in. He was obviously talking about this whole crazy demon business. He hadn’t wanted to get me wrapped up in it, but here I am all wrapped up in it now. Does this mean that he’s going to be considering dating me? I did tell him the other day at my house that I wasn’t interested, and I didn’t know what got into me that night when I kissed him. Maybe that’s enough to save me from having to break his heart a second time.

The door swings open behind Aria and Crispen tromps in wearing black stained clothes. Demon blood. More demon blood. Does Blayk have any blood left?

With his super hearing, I wonder if he’s heard what Aria and I were talking about. That fact that he probably did, makes me uneasy. If he does hear though, he doesn’t give anything away.

“Sorry, I thought you’d still be sleeping. I should’ve come through another door so you didn’t see me like this,” he apologizes and quickly removes his dirtied shirt. A rush of air escapes me and both Aria and Crispen look to me confused. “Is your head okay?” Crispen demands, mistaking my quick release of air as pain and not shock from looking at his perfectly sculpted shirtless body. If I don’t have feelings for him, then why am I so in love with his body? Shouldn’t I be repulsed? Shouldn’t I see him more as a brother or something? I feel childish.

Aria rolls her eyes and smiles at me. She knows exactly what just happened. Heat flushes my cheeks as embarrassment invades me. Now she definitely has the wrong idea about Crispen and me.

“You’re red, are you hot?” Crispen wonders, sounding all too concerned. When I don’t answer, he grabs a black bag from the bedside table and pulls out familiar medical supplies. He quickly does a concussion check thing with a really damn bright light and then hands me two pain killers from the bottle Aria set on the coffee table. I swallow them down with some water and remove the peas from my head carefully.

“I’m fine, Crispen,” I promise.

“You’re literally a walking disaster. You need to be more careful,” he warns. He then looks to Aria. “It might help if my siblings used a bit more discretion.” His jaw tightens.

“No, it’s fine. This is your home, not mine. It’s not any of your faults that I have a weak stomach, and I’m not used to people having playful knife fights in the house,” I try to say this with humor, but it comes out strangled as a wave of pain moves through my head. I place the peas back on the sorest spot.

“It’s not your fault neither. You’re a guest, so they should behave respectfully and not try to give our guest heart attacks,’ Crispen snarls and glares at Aria. I see her shrug from the corner of my eye.

“She’s a part of this world now, Crispen. I figure we may as well desensitize her from violence and blood now, otherwise, what will happen when she actually sees something bloody go down? She’s going to faint, just like today, and we can’t have that happening in a real situation.”

Crispen doesn’t answer, and I know he’s aware that Aria has presented a valid point.

“Megan, you don’t have a concussion but take it easy, okay?” he instructs. “I’m going to go change into something less bloody. I spoke to Blayk. He, Landon, their father, and a servant of you father’s are the only ones who know about you and are after you, Megan. I’m going to call a family friend to come help us take care of this problem.”

Aria’s face turns to disappointment. “What the hell did you do? Mason and I couldn’t even get him to talk!”

He shrugs. “My techniques are better than yours. I have more practice making them talk.” He doesn’t say this in a mocking tone. He says it completely serious and then disappears to go get changed.

“What a guy. He makes me look useless sometimes,” Aria complains to herself. Then she disappears from sight. For a moment, I’m confused, but then I see her across the room and realize that she just moved quickly, and she didn’t actually disappear. She picks up a stack of paper and begins going through it. “Why do they get so many magazines? Who even reads magazines anymore?”

“Those are all Mason’s. He’s trying to familiarize himself with pop culture. I don’t know why he won’t learn to use the internet already,” Crispen grunts, appearing in the kitchen with jeans and a button-up t-shirt. Their silent movements are going to take some getting used.

“Mason hates technology. He hates change. He’s very…old souled,” Aria explains to me. “I stay updated with the times. Crispen, well he tries,” she teases.

Crispen rolls his eyes. “When Aria came from Australia, she actually managed to convince Mason to get a cell phone. I’ve been trying to get him to use one for years.”

I never would have thought Mason to be a person like this. Then again, I barely even know the guy.

“Quit talking about me, would you?” A thick voice fumes from the front door. It swings open and Mason enters, his arms full of bags. I recognize two of my duffle bags among grocery bags. How long am I going to be staying here? “It’s not that I hate change, I just would rather not have change. What’s wrong with the old ways? Why do we need cellular phones, televisions, and frappuwappuccinos?”

“What the hell is a
frappe-wappu-ccino?
” Aria groans and takes some of the bags from Mason.

Mason scoffs, “Those things at the coffee shop. You go to order a coffee these days, and they have to make it so complicated. What ever happened to small, medium, or large? It was all hot. It was simple. You could add as much cream and sugar as you wanted. Now you can get the hot coffee, the cold coffee, the frozen coffee, the soy bean coffee, the low-fat coffee, the chocolate coffee, you can get whipped cream with chocolate drizzle coffee, hell, you can even get pumpkin spiced coffee. What is that even? What is a pumpkin spice? A pumpkin is a squash not a spice. Ridiculous is what it is. You ask for a regular coffee, and the shopkeepers don’t even know what language you’re speaking. It’s as if you’re speaking gibberish. They look at you like you’ve sinned or something.”

When Mason finishes his rant, we’re all staring at him trying not to laugh. I begin laughing first, then Aria joins in. Crispen closes his eyes, smiles, and shakes his head as if restraining from laughing.

“See, you two, this is what I have to live with,” Crispen mutters, still shaking his head.

Mason removes his shoes. “I will go put these in your room,” he says to me. This time, since I’m paying attention, I see him rush across the room and down the hallway, it doesn’t look so much like he’s just up and disappeared. Paying attention is key. I make note of this.

“Jayden is on his way. He’ll be here in the morning,” Crispen tells everyone. Although Mason isn’t in the room, I know he can hear every word. “So, Megan, I’ll show you off to your room. You should rest. I’ll check on you later and bring you more medication if you need it. The three of us have some planning to do for tomorrow.” I assume that Jayden is the friend that Crispen mentioned earlier. “Would you like me to carry you?” Crispen asks. “Or can you walk?”

I stand up carefully, not wanting to be carried. I’m a little dizzy at first, but I manage to follow him through the room, down the hall, and into a large bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. It’s like one of those fancy hotel rooms that you know you’ll never actually get the chance to stay, in but you see them on TV and can’t help but dream. My bags sit next to the large dresser.

“Settle in. You shouldn’t be here long if all goes as planned, but you never know.”

After Crispen closes the door and leaves me alone, I take a long, hot shower then curl up into bed. I turn the TV on as a distraction and tune into a show that I’ve never seen before. I try to fall asleep, but there’s so much going on inside my head that it takes hours before I finally drift off.