Fire With Fire: A Demonblood Novel Part 3

I guide Tristan down the streets until we reach the turnoff for the McKenzie Boarding House. Several cars are already in the parking lot, and I wonder how poor Mrs. McKenzie is handling the sudden onslaught of people....the place usually sees only a few visitors and tourists a year. Now half the town will probably be here within the hour.

Tristan takes my hand and we squeeze through the crowd huddled in the turn-of-the-century parlor. Women are sobbing, some hold tissues to their faces, some hold babies, and some are just looking for something to hold them together. There's a low buzz of excitement from the fifty or so already gathered, and they all wear the same expression-hopeful fear.

I scan the area looking for a friendly face. A young woman sits by herself in the corner, and I decide to brave it. She looks friendly enough. Sad and scared, but she has kind eyes.

Tristan gives my hand a soft, rea.s.suring squeeze as I lead him across the room. I don't even feel guilty that I'm holding hands with someone other than Kieron. Tristan makes me feel good. Safe. Protected. And right now, I'll take as much of that as I can get.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I speak softly.

She raises a tearstained face, giving me a brief look of confusion before quickly s.h.i.+fting her gaze to Tristan. I sigh. That's what most strangers do when they make eye-contact with me-they immediately look away. The ones who don't are the special ones. Corrine. Kieron. And now, Tristan.

"Yes?" she replies tersely, her thin lips turned down into a frown.

I shuffle my feet and look at the ground. Tristan takes a small step forward and graces her with a disarming smile. The woman immediately relaxes and returns it with a faint one of her own.

"Ma'am, we're truly sorry to bother you, but we were wondering if you had any idea what happened? My friend has kin there and is very worried." I gotta hand it to him-Tristan has the 'aw-shucks' southern boy charm routine down to an art form.

She nods, her face drawn and pale. "My Bernie is in there," she whispers and looks away, lost in thought.

I sigh impatiently and nudge Tristan. "Ma'am?" he prompts her. "Have you heard anything at all?"

She slowly shakes her head. "No. Guess they'll send Scooter to tell us when there's something to say. Guess 'til then we wait." Scooter McGraw is the local Sheriff. He's hated me ever since I was younger and he would routinely catch Lucky out at night after curfew. He's never nabbed her for anything-nothing that stuck, anyway-but he always gives me a disgusted glare whenever our paths cross, and I know he thinks I'll end up in one of his tiny jail cells sooner rather than later.

Tristan places his strong hand on the woman's tiny one. "I'll pray for your husband's well-being, and for the good fortune of everyone involved." She nods, apparently consoled by his caring words.

We move to a spot near a picture window and observe the throngs of people rus.h.i.+ng in the front door. The buzz in the room is rapidly growing to a nervous uproar, and soon people are yelling for the sheriff.

"What do you want to do?" Tristan asks as I wring my hands and stare out to the parking lot. I glance back at the room filled with worried friends and relatives.

What am I even doing here? I don't know Troy, and Kieron never bothered to come back for me. For all I know, he just lied to me, used me, and left me. Why should I care about an uncle of his I never even met?

But as much as my mind tells me to leave here and forget about anything that has to do with Kieron, my heart resolutely refuses to listen.

"We wait," I say.

Nearly two hours later, after I've nibbled on several iced oatmeal cookies and drunk eight gla.s.ses of sweet tea, Sheriff McGraw finally waddles in through the parlor doors. He looks even more portly than the last time I saw him, and the poor b.u.t.tons of his officer's uniform strain painfully against his ever-expanding stomach.

An instant hush falls over the crowd, quickly swallowed by dozens of frantic voices and pleas for answers- "What happened?!"

"What's going on?!"

"Where's my husband?!"

"Was anyone hurt?!"

"Where're our boys?!"

Sheriff McGraw makes his way to the front of the room and waives his hands for people to hush up. His deputy, Bedford Bridges, a beanpole of a man with thinning hair and crooked yellow teeth, stands next to him holding a clipboard in one hand and wiping his brow with the other. He's sweating profusely, and I find this odd on such a cool winter day. Upon closer inspection, I swear both he and Sheriff McGraw look positively white.

"Awright, y'all, settle down. Now I know y'all are concerned, and with good reason. I promise we'll be giving you the information as it comes in. Right now there's not a whole lot to tell-"

Worried voices ring out, cutting him off.

"Was there a cave in?"

"Was anyone hurt?"

Tristan leans closer to me, and I automatically grab his hand again. My heart feels like it's ready to fly out of my chest. Something is wrong here. Very wrong. This is so much bigger than anyone knows...

The sheriff glances around nervously. "As it stands now, we're at a level four emergency..."

A horrified gasp sweeps the room.

"Deputy Bridges has a list of names he'll be calling out. These men were in the affected area of the mines..."

"Were they hurt? Killed?"

Sheriff McGraw pauses again. He shakes his head, and there's a noticeable confused relief amongst the onlookers.

"Then what is it? What happened?"

He takes a deep breath, his beady eyes seeming to rest on each person in the crowd before answering. "A group of nineteen men were working on a new shaft," he finally replies. "They found something... something different, something that got their attention. One of the men came out to tell the foreman. When they returned to see what they'd discovered..."

"Well, what was it? What's the problem?"

The sheriff breathes a heavy sigh, and Deputy Bridges lowers his head. "Well, the problem is, when the men returned to the spot to meet up with the rest of the crew..."

I squeeze Tristan's hand so tightly my knuckles feel numb.

"...they were gone. All of them. Eighteen men with no way out suddenly vanished into thin air. And we ain't got no idea how or why."

I hate that once again my day will be cut short by the arrival of my demonic alter-ego. But after spending the better part of the afternoon at the McKenzie Boarding House, surrounded by weeping wives and worried children, it's time to leave. Lucky will be coming soon, and I need Tristan to get me home before she does.

Once we settle back into his Jag and hit the highway, he turns to me. "Well, you have to be pretty relieved that your friend's uncle wasn't there, huh? That means he's probably okay."

"He's my boyfriend, not my friend," I respond dully, staring out the window.

"Boyfriend," Tristan corrects himself.

I sigh and nod. "Yeah. I'm happy Troy is okay. But what about all those other men?"

How could they just disappear into thin air without a trace? Especially trapped deep in a mine with no way out? This whole thing is making my nerves tingle in a way I can't explain. I feel there's something happening more sinister than men simply disappearing...

Tristan rests his hand on my thigh, and I nervously twist my hair in tight circles around my finger, practically cutting off the circulation. I really wish we'd left the Boarding House sooner.

I need to talk to Tatiana.

I wave goodbye to Tristan and enter the cabin. Tatiana is lying on her back, levitating several inches off the floor. Great. I can't disturb her when she's in a deep meditation, so I head to the kitchen and find she's already prepared my dinner-a simple turkey sandwich. I keep an eye on her while I eat, and hope she snaps out of it before I fall asleep. Judging from the darkening windows that'll be any moment now.

I swallow my last bite, and she still hasn't flinched. I move over to her and lay a gentle hand on her arm. "Tat?" I whisper. It's odd she's doing this ritual now, so close to a transformation. She's always available for me-and I a.s.sume, Lucky-when we're here, saving most of her witchcraft activity for after we've left. Normally this wouldn't bother me, but right now I need to talk to her. A sick sense of foreboding is making my gut ache, and if anyone can tell me what's going on, it's her.

"Tattie?" I repeat, and when she doesn't respond I give her a gentle shake. Nothing. Her opaque eyes are wide and unblinking, her long hair flowing freely beneath her, caressing the floor. With a frustrated sigh I stare out the window, as the first fiery tingles dance over my skin.

As the darkness seeps in around me, her faint voice suddenly croaks out through my awareness.

"You are in grave danger, my child..."

And then my whole world goes black.

Chapter 5. Lucky.

When I open my eyes, for a brief moment everything seems fine. I'm sitting in the cabin...okay. Tatiana is floating on her back beside me....weird, but not alarming.

And then I remember.

Dryndara. Demon Bar. The attacks. Catalina. Bodies flying everywhere. Fire coming from all directions. Fleeing with Bones. Barely escaping with our lives.

I jump to my feet and grab Tatiana's shoulders, shaking her violently. "Tat, wake up!"

She falls to the floor with a graceful plop. Slowly, she arches her back and sits upright, then turns to me with a disapproving scowl.

"Lucky, how dare you disturb me when I'm deep under? Don't you realize I was trying to see what it is that's happening here? Now it will take me several hours to get back to where I was."

"Tat, this is an emergency!" How was I supposed to know? Tatiana usually saves her really weird voodoo stuff for after I've gone. She's supposed to be here for me to talk to when I need her; that's her job. And I need her now. "Tat, you know I'm in crisis mode. Did you see anything? What's going on in Dryndara?"

Tatiana closes her eyes and lets out a troubled sigh. "I fear, despite my best efforts, I am unable to penetrate the magical barrier of Thiberoux. I thought this latest spell would work for sure, but..." Her voice drifts off as she slowly rises to her feet.

"It's war." I grasp her hands and help her up. "It has to be. But why now? And who was it?"

She shakes her long, silver hair. "I wish I could see more, but alas, I cannot. But there was something else...something that is most alarming..."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"It's here, in the mortal world. Liora's world. A strange, supernatural force."

"What do you mean? Like what?" I pace around her like a lion circling its prey. If whatever happened last night somehow spilled over into the human world...That would not be good.

She shakes her head again. "I fear, I do not know. I cannot see it clearly. But whatever it is, it's strong...very powerful. More powerful than anything I've ever felt here before."

"Are we in danger?"

She drops her head. "I do not know. I'm sorry."

I stare at her, my frustration building to dangerous levels. "So, let me get this straight. We get suicide bombed at Demon Bar, and who knows how many of us even survived...I mean, Bones and I barely made it out a secret exit...it's only by the luck of Lucifer we happened to be sitting in the back corner in the first place. If we'd been in our usual spots when they attacked us..." I shudder and head to her room to grab some energy stash. I need a drink badly, and now the routine act of replenis.h.i.+ng at Demon Bar is in doubt.

Fortunately, Tatiana always has a never-ending supply, as she'd been able to clone some original Source Energy and infuse it with her own magical potions. But as good as it is, it's not as powerful as that from the Source. It does the job, but I never feel quite one hundred percent. And who knows what's in store for me tonight? I might have to fight for my life the moment I step foot inside Dryndara.

I emerge from Tatiana's bedroom clutching a vial of Energy and chug it as I cross the cabin to my bedroom.

Tatiana follows me. "Lucky, have you ever wondered why exactly it is we live here? Why there are so many demons cl.u.s.tered in this area?"

No, and I don't care.

"Not really. I thought demons were everywhere." I scour my closet looking for something suitable to wear. As usual, Liora has us dressed us in shabby black rags not fit for a homeless beggar.

I toss aside several long gowns...tormenting is definitely out of the question tonight. After what happened, I can only a.s.sume war is on the horizon. No vintage dresses for me. My fingers grace the red leather pants and halter top-one of my favorite outfits. I quickly change as Tatiana sits on the edge of Liora's bed, her opaque eyes cast downward.

"Yes, this is true...," she murmurs, as if she's talking to herself. "Demons can be found almost everywhere. But they always tend to cl.u.s.ter around the kinetic hot spots. Your world of Thiberoux may seem huge to you, but in essence, it only covers a very small part of this countryside."

"Yeah, so?" I slide on my boots and start brus.h.i.+ng my hair.

"So, there are many other demons all over the world who have homes in realms other than Thiberoux, but who also live in the mortal world."

"Yeah, I know. What's this all about?" I give her a curious look as I fix Liora's hideous racc.o.o.n eyeliner into something more smoky and sultry.

Tatiana fingers the lace of one of the gowns I'd tossed aside and presses her lips together. "I've never told you this, but I was raised by a demoness. She found my sister and me abandoned and left to die. Much the way I found you. Although later we came to find-"

"Wait, you have a sister?" I turn to her, my mouth agape. Tatiana had never mentioned she had a sister before. Truth is, I've never asked about her family. I just figured she'd always been exactly how she is now. Actually, I can't imagine her ever being a teenager, or a child. Or with a family. Or having a mother. The idea is unsettling.

"Yes, I have a sister. Actually, she's my twin, younger by five minutes. Her name is Anastasia. She lives in California, in a lovely seaside town called Crystal Cove. We each certainly have our own talents, but Ana's gift of sight is one that has no equal, and I'm afraid I come up short time and time again. It's times like this I wish she was closer...that we were closer." Her thin lips draw into a small frown, and her pet.i.te shoulders hunch forward.

"Wow. So how come you've never mentioned this sister of yours before?" I turn and glide on my favorite cherry-red lip gloss. And why is she bringing her up now? My world is falling into chaos, half of Dryndara is dead, and she's talking family reunions?

"I can't help but wish I had more Sight right now. Something big has shattered the spiritual energy of Liora's mortal world at the same time you tell of unprecedented turmoil in your world. To have two such anomalies occur simultaneously is a matter of great concern to me, and one which I fear is out of my reach."

I give her another strange look but continue dressing, and quickly brush out my long ebony hair, twisting it up into a high ponytail.

"Tat, I love you...you know I do. But you're kind of all over the place right now. I wake up needing details about what went down in Dryndara, and you're telling me of demoness mothers, long-lost witchy twin sisters, and a supernatural explosion in Liora's world. Not really helpful."

Tatiana sighs and hangs her head.

"...And speaking of Liora, what is that girl doing to me these days? Why have I been waking up feeling so c.r.a.ppy every night and needing a drink before I even change my clothes? I've felt like she's getting sick or something for a few weeks now..."

"She hasn't mentioned anything to me," Tatiana replies. "But perhaps you're just picking up on how you make her feel every morning. You know how detrimental it is on her body when you drink so close to sunup. I am going to insist you taper back. I do not want to repeat myself on this matter one more time." Her white eyes narrow and I quickly look away, pretending to dab at my lip-gloss.

I decide to change the subject. "Any sign of Kieron?"