My Heart be Damned (16 page)

It was as if he didn’t seem to include me as one of his friends anymore. His main concern was Sam, and not me. I could have been lying in a ditch all night, but that didn’t matter.

Nevertheless, he was right. I owed them an explanation.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know. We’ll meet somewhere later and...”

“No,” Mercy said. She gestured to the hallway outside. “You tell us now, or you turn around and go home. Because I can’t take the secrets anymore.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s go out into the hallway.”

Mercy threw me my bag from yesterday and led the way and Chuck lagged behind leaving me in the middle with a lot of space surrounding me. I’d never felt more alone in my life than I didn’t at that moment. Not even when my mother had died and everyone claimed to know how I was doing, but really, they didn’t. The hallway was empty, save a few nurses who would scuttle past now and then. Mercy found a window ledge and folded herself into it. It reminded me of when we were younger and used to play ‘hide and seek’ in her house. Mercy always used to be able to fold herself into tiny gaps. She was always winning. Chuck kept his distance, leaning against a wall. I took a seat on an old radiator and longed for it actually to be working to combat the cold chill of the hospital.

When no one said anything, I
realized
I would have to start talking. “Well, to start, I guess you could say I’m not like you guys.”

“Damn right you’re not,” Chuck muttered. “We wouldn’t hide secrets that would get each other hurt.”

I whirled on him, my fists clenching. “Stop attacking me! I’m trying to explain. I don’t owe you an explanation, Chuck. Just because your parents give you everything your heart desires, doesn’t mean I will. And you wanna talk about being a good friend? Why haven’t you even asked about how I got away last night? Why haven’t you checked to see how I’m doing?”

“What have my parents got to do with your bullshit? And last I saw, you weren’t the one lying in a hospital bed unconscious.”

“Guys,” Mercy said tiredly. “Stop fighting and keep your voices down. I’m not getting thrown out of here because you two can’t keep your emotions in check.”

Neither of us said anything for a moment.

“I don’t know what you think I’m involved in, but I can promise whatever you think is wrong. I don’t owe anyone money. I’m not on drugs. I’m not in a gang. I didn’t choose the way my life has become. I tried to quit and but it won’t let me go.”

Mercy raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna have to elaborate. I have no idea what you mean.”

“Those guys in the car park yesterday? Not human. Well, at least not all human.” I paused, watching the disbelief flood through each of their features. “Look, if I tell you this, you have to swear not to breathe a word to anyone. Whether you believe me or not. Okay?”

“Not human. Really,” Mercy said coolly.

“Okay, fine, don’t believe me.”

“Mercy let her tell her story. I’m interested to hear what she’s going to say.”

“You know what, screw the lot of you,” I hissed. I turned to walk away.

“Chuck, calm down.
Amerie
, wait,” Mercy called. “I’m sorry. It’s just…not human? It’s a bit much for us to believe. You have to give us a second to decide if we believe you.”

I nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“So if they’re not human, what are they?” Mercy asked, and I let out a grateful sigh. At least she was entertaining my story – whether she believed it or not.

“We call them, Damned. Souls of bad people who die. The good ones go to heaven after death. The bad...don’t. Somehow, those bad ones find ways of escaping Hell, and they come back to Earth through gateways - usually in graveyards. Some of them are lucky enough to find human hosts they can possess. It’s complicated, how it works, but the ones who do make it to a human body are the ones you need to worry about more. They’re evil, dangerous, and it’s my job to send that evil soul back to Hell and give the human they possess control of their own body back.”

If possible, the disbelief on each of their faces had grown.

“What the
fu
-” Chuck started just as Mercy said, “Huh?”

“It sounds crazy, but think about what you saw last night, think about what you said yourself. Think about it. How strong those people were and how strong I was. You did not imagine that, and I’m not making this up.”

“Okay, yeah they were strong. But you expect me to believe they’re not fully human? That’s crazy talk,
Amerie
, even if you can’t really explain it...” Mercy said.

“So what else is there to say?” I demanded.

“Maybe they were high on drugs,” Chuck said with a shrug.

“Wait...” I frowned in frustration and stared around for something I could use to back up my story. There was a broken phone on the wall beside me, so I stood up and tore the phone box from the wall easily. It satisfied me when both their eyes widened in shock.

“How...how did you do that?” Chuck gaped.

“I told you, I’m super strong. I have enhanced senses, and I heal faster. Like way faster. I also don’t feel pain as much as you or Mercy might. If you hit me with a
hammer, it would hurt, but it wouldn’t stop me from fighting. I’d just keep going.” I set the phone box on the floor gently. “It comes with the job.”

“The job?” Mercy’s voice was faint. It was lucky she was sitting down.

“Yes – I send the soul back, remember? Trust me, I didn’t pick this. I’d much rather sit back and let someone else do it. But my mum was a Hunter, and her mum before that and so on. All around the world there are families like mine. Hunter bloodlines. Every girl born into that bloodline becomes one. Whether she wants it or not. Your mother, if she’s still alive, becomes your mentor. She teaches you early. Gets you ready. Then when you’re sixteen, you’re a full-fledged Hunter.”

“Why sixteen?” Mercy asked. I couldn’t be sure if she fully believed me, but at least if they were asking me questions and listening, they weren’t tearing my head off anymore.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess when you’re sixteen, your body is developed enough to handle the power you get.”

“So,
erm
,” Chuck started, pushing away from the wall. “How
d’you
send these souls back to,
erm
, Hell?”

“It’s complicated.” I grimaced, unsure of how to put it. “Okay, think of it this way. There’s one body, but two Souls inside. The human body isn’t invincible, but if a Damned is inside, it’ll become like me. It’ll heal faster. If you shoot the body, though, the person it was before dies and the Damned just goes back to the graveyard to repeat the process. You gotta do it properly.”

“Which is...?” he pressed.

“We have Blessed weapons. If you use a Blessed weapon, it doesn’t hurt the body, only the Damned soul. It sends the soul right back to Hell, no switching bodies, and no collecting two hundred pounds when you pass ‘Go’. Only if they’re possessed. Stab a regular person and it’s just like any knife.”

There were a few moments of silence until Chuck blew out a long breath. “I don’t know how to take this.”

“I’m finally telling you the truth,” I said, sitting back on the radiator. “You can choose not to believe me, if that’s what makes you happy.”

“The truth is what makes me happy,” Mercy said. “Those times when I call in the evenings and you don’t answer...?”

“Mostly because I’m roaming around a graveyard somewhere. It sounds weirder than it is. I just get the urge to go sometimes, because of what lurks there and who I am. But I haven’t been going as much since I quit.”

“You quit?” Mercy sounded incredulous. “Let’s just say I believe you, which I’m not sure I do. Wouldn’t your job be, like, saving the world? Why would you quit that?”

“Because being a Hunter was what got my mum killed.” I sighed, staring down at my hands. “On the night before my sixteenth birthday, she went out on a Hunt and didn’t come back. She went even when I begged her not to go. I refuse to die that way. Quitting is the only way I thought I could do to control that.”

When I looked back up, Mercy had moved closer and was now standing beside me. She looked as though she was deliberating something. Finally, she knelt beside me and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. I leaned my head in the crook of her neck and closed my eyes at the contact.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier.”

“You had every right to be angry at me.” I opened my eyes and looked up at her. “Do you believe me?”

She hesitated. “Yes and no. Obviously, something is going on here. I just...need some time to process things. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

“Have you still quit your,
erm
, job?” she asked, standing up straight again.

“I’m back in it for the moment, because there’s something I need to sort out. But once that’s done, then I’m going back to normality.”

“Oh. Well, we should get back in and sit with Sam in case he wakes up. Thanks for finally opening up to us,
Amerie
, even if your story makes you sound like a
wack
job,” Mercy said softly.

I forced a smile. “If it were up to me, I would have told you a long time ago.”

“So why didn’t you?” Chuck asked.

“Because there’s this...group... called The Sisterhood, and they’re like these really powerful three old ladies, who sit on their proverbial thrones and make up all these stupid rules. I’m not even allowed to tell my dad or brother. That’s how ridiculous this all is.”

“In that case, thanks for telling us.” She smiled kindly before disappearing through the ward door. Chuck moved to follow, but I stopped him, blocking Chuck’s route.

We were face to face. I stared up into his eyes, trying to read what was behind them. “Talk to me,” I pleaded.

His hand reached up to trace a finger lightly across a new cut I had on my forehead. “I knew you hadn’t fallen down the stairs.”

I smiled as he pulled me in for a hug. “Do you believe me?”

“I think I do. You seem to believe it, and it sounds too confusing to be made up.”

I let out a huge sigh of relief. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Let’s go be there for Sam,” he said, pulling back. “He needs us right now.”

“He’s lucky to have you and Mercy,” I said, mainly to myself. “I sure am.”

They threw us out of the hospital around lunchtime, just as Sam began to regain consciousness. Though we tried hard to argue our case to stay by Sam’s side, the nurses told us that rules were rules, and we had to go. So with no other motive, we headed back to school, thoroughly depressed that we didn’t get the opportunity to talk to him.

Since we’d missed half the day, we missed the school assembly informing the students about the police investigation. In other words, the school had to make it look as though they were taking the ‘break in’ very seriously, so that parents wouldn’t stop handing out bucket loads of cash to the school every year. Like I expected, the police
ruled the crime as vandalism and by the time Chuck, Mercy, and me got to school, everything had already been repaired or replaced. It was as if it never happened.

I was constantly on edge, though. All I could think about was my secret being so out in the open. Would they punish me? Would The Sisterhood find out? I mean, there had to be some repercussions for breaking this kind of rule; otherwise, everyone would do it. Right?

By the time that the bell rang, and everyone darted out the door to freedom, I had convinced myself that I didn’t care. Let The Sisterhood find and punish me. I didn’t want to do this stupid job anyway. If I had to, I’d rather my friends support me, then go it alone.

Chapter Fifteen

Clash

My shift at The Hut passed quickly. Chuck and Mercy didn’t show, but they did text to say they’d gone to see Sam at the hospital again. It was fair enough, although I couldn’t deny that I was irritated that I had to work while they didn’t. I mean, Sam was my friend too, and being around me was what put him in the hospital. I needed to see him, and try to explain. It would have to wait until tomorrow, though. Visiting hours would be over once my shift was done.

Marshall waited while I finished my shift; he and a couple friends played pool, Every now and again, I’d look over to Marshall and he’d be staring right back, as if our bodies were synched. Maybe they were. Now that I knew he was technically a Hunter, too.

“You ready?” Marshall asked as I shoved my apron into my locker.

I jumped, spinning around to confront him. “You’re not actually staff, Marshall. You shouldn’t be in here.” I slammed the locker shut behind me, and bent to pick up my bag.

“Ah, technicalities,” Marshall said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “John lets me go wherever the hell I want. It’s a good life. I can’t complain.” His eyes roamed over my body, assessing – hopefully – my training outfit. I looked down at my legging
s, oversized hoodie, and Nikes.

“This okay?” I demanded.

“It’s fine.” He moved forward and brushed a hand over my bare shoulder. “Is your hoodie supposed to fall down like this? Or is it too big for you?”

“A little of both,” I admitted. “It’s cut that way but...” I stopped, seeing the uninterested look on his face. “Let’s just go.”

“Lead the way, milady.”

“I’m not your lady.”

He chuckled and together we headed to the car park. Considering the Porsche was smashed to pieces at the bottom of a lake somewhere, I hadn’t expected him to have another car quite so soon. He was severely kidding himself if he thought I was getting back on that motorbike again.

The car he led me to wasn’t quite as flashy as the Porsche, but it was still nice. A sporty little Honda with leather seating and a TV/stereo system. I climbed into the passenger side and slid my hand over the clean dashboard.

“Yours?” I asked as he started the engine.

“Yup. I bought it.”

“How? You don’t even work.”

“I have other ways of making money,” he said, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him, choosing to stare out of the window. I thought I pretty much knew the area where The Hut was situated, but Marshall was taking us through all these little back roads between towering buildings that I’d never seen before. After ten minutes, he parked in front of a darkened dilapidated building and shut the engine off.

“We here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes in confusion.

“Yep.” He threw open his car door and reluctantly, I followed him. “You look uneasy.”

“I don’t see how we can train here.”

“You still don’t trust me.” He frowned. “You’ll grow to trust me,
Amerie
. Once you see what I’ve done inside.”

“There better not be any cheesy trails of flower petals or romantic music playing,” I warned, only half joking.

“Yeah, right. You’d have to be very special to get
something like that outta me.”

I tried not to be offended by his comments, but really, they were quite insulting. Marshall shouldered the heavy, metal door open, and then held it for me. I walked in, feeling the draft immediately. It was no warmer inside than it was outside. I probably could have vomited a better location to train.

“This way,” Marshall said, walking through a dark doorway.

I tensed; my whole body was on full alert. The place was pitch black. I could barely see my hands in front of me. When I stepped further into the room, I lost sight of Marshall.

“Marshall?”

I sensed something come at me from behind. I spun around throwing my hands up to block whatever was coming straight down for my head. It rebounded off my wrists and swung at my side. I dodged it and flipped back. The – what was it? A baseball bat? − missed my face by inches. Relying purely on my senses, I ducked and sidestepped the attacks, my heart hammeri
ng. What the hell was going on?

Frustrated, I kicked the bat out of my attacker’s hand and then smashed my foot into their chest. Whoever it was had flown backwards, against the wall, flipping the light switch as they landed. Marshall?

“What the...?”

Marshall stepped forward, rubbing his chest. “Nice kick. I’m impressed.”

“I’m confused,” I said, folding my arms. Under the dull lighting from a single bulb in the
center
of the room, I was able to see exactly where we were. Against one wall was a table full of weapons. Next to it was a moveable punching bag. Leaning against the opposite wall was a crash mat. I gaped, thoroughly impressed.

“Like it?” Marshall asked, picking up the bat and putting it with the other weapons. “It took me all day. I’m not finished, but it should do for now.”

“It’s perfect,” I whispered. Then, I remembered that he attacked me. “What was all that about, by the way?”

“You’re not always going to see an attack coming, are you? I was testing your reflexes in the dark. Not bad.”

“Why is it even when you compliment me, I’m insulted?”

“Years of practice,” he answered. He picked up two fencing
untipped
swords off the table and threw me one. I caught it, mid-air. “Did your mum teach you how to fence?”

“Of course she did.”

“Good. Ready?”

“Can I tighten my laces first?”

His sword came at me, and I jumped back, tripping over my undone shoelace, and then fell flat on my back. I expected him to feel guilty and stop to help me to my feet, but he kept coming, swiping the sword at my face. I blocked at the last minute and rolled out of the way, finally able to jump to my feet.

“You fight dirty,” I hissed, blocking his sword with my own.

He swiped again. “The Damned don’t fight fair.”

“But you’re not a Damned,” I pointed out.

He didn’t answer. I shut up too. There was only the sound of our swords echoing through the room. I wasn’t sure when we were supposed to stop. Maybe I had to disarm him as I had with the bat. His words ran through my head. The Damned don’t fight fair. Then I wouldn’t fight fair, either.

I swung my rapier up, blocking his attack, and then dropped to a crouch, knocking his feet out from beneath him. He fell flat on his back, much as I’d done earlier, and without giving him a chance to right himself, I plunged the sword down towards his chest.

He winced as I stopped the rapier, the point barely touching his t-shirt. He reached up and swiped it away, smiling as if he’d just won.

“You’re pretty good. You fight better one on one. You need to learn how to fight multiple assailants.”

He held out his hand for my sword, and I passed it to him, still tense, unsure of what he had planned next. He dropped both swords on the table and slowly walked back towards me.

“Ready for some hand to hand combat?”

“I was born ready,” I said. Then I punched him.

We trained until it was past ten that night before I decided I truly needed to get home. My history essay wasn’t going to write itself. Dusty, hot, and sweaty, I grabbed my bag from the corner of the room and followed an equally sweaty Marshall back to the car.

As soon as I got in the car, I pulled the sun visor down and stared at my reflection in the little mirror. My cheeks were flushed, and my hair was a complete mess. I pulled the band out and retied it. Not that it made much difference.

“I’m glad to see last night didn’t scar you,” Marshall said, reversing away from the building.

“What
d’you
mean?”

“You drowned
Amerie
.”

I shrugged, not wanting to admit to the nightmares. “I’m fine. I had to lather, rinse, and repeat about a thousand times in the shower this morning. But apart from that, I’m alright.”

Marshall smirked, keeping his gaze fixed in front of him.

“What’s with the smirk?” I asked.

“Thinking about showering.”

I bit down on my lip, confused. “What’s so funny about a shower? You get in, you wash, and you get clean.”

“You also get naked,” he pointed out. “I’m imagining you naked right now. Don’t ruin the moment – it’s a good one.”

“Why are you so disgusting?”

He groaned. “You’ve ruined the moment. Thanks.”

Ignoring him, I turned to stare out of the window and changed the subject onto our sparring session; mainly, who had trained him in the first place (his mother). For the rest of the journey, we spoke about training tactics. At least, when we were talking about fighting moves, Marshall wasn’t being all
pervy
. Although, when he was being
pervy
, I wondered whether he actually meant what he said. Did he find me attractive? Or was he just being a pig-headed guy?

He pulled up outside of my house and shut off the engine. I pictured my bath waiting for me upstairs, and my whole body tingled in anticipation.

“Same time tomorrow?” Marshall asked.

“I’m not working tomorrow. So we can do earlier.”

“I’ll pick you up from school, then.”

I smiled. “You don’t have to do that...”

“I want to. It’s no problem. Not like I got a job to go to or anything.”

I grabbed my bag from the floor and pushed the car door open. “Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow then.”

“Wait,” he said as I made to climb out.

“Yeah?”

“Give me your phone number. Just in case I’m running late or something.”

I pulled my phone out of my bag, ignoring the three missed calls flashing on the front screen. I’d had this number for about a year now, and I still didn’t know it. I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I’d put it under.

“
Here.
” I handed him the phone and waited for him to type it into his own. Then he typed his into mine and gave it back.

“Beware – I have your number now,” he said, grinning. “I might send you naughty pictures. Or better yet, you could send them to me.”

“In your dreams,” I said, getting out of the car.

“Always,” he called after me.

As soon as his car pulled away, I grinned. I was still smiling as I climbed the stairs to my house and unlocked the door. I went straight into my room, dumped my bag, and then headed across the hall to the bathroom. The door swung open just as I reached it, and a blonde woman appeared behind it with my fluffy, pink towel wrapped around her.

I screamed and so did she. Who the hell was this?

Then the morning’s conversation came flooding back to me. This had to be Cindy.

She laughed nervously and patted her slightly damp hair. “You must be
Amerie
. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She held out her other hand, which I ignored. “Oh, well, I’m Cindy. This was not the kind of first meeting I had in mind, but it is what it is.”