Fire With Fire: A Demonblood Novel Part 12

"Creepy? What makes him so creepy? Is it because of his scars? Are you really that superficial?"

Corrine looks confused and annoyed. "What scars?" She shakes her head and stares at me like I'm a crazy person.

"Oh, don't be patronizing. Is he too ugly for you or something? After all, we all know Kieron was Mr. Perfect, right? Mr. Flawless-Hotty-McNaughty. Well, he left. And he's not coming back. So what if Tristan has a less-than-perfect face? I don't care about that at all. Ever heard about a thing called 'inner beauty'? I know it's a foreign concept with most people-"

"Seriously, Liora. What're you talking about? What scars? Did Tristan get in some sort of accident or something?" She c.o.c.ks her head to the side and gives me a quizzical look.

I roll my eyes. "Why are you acting like an idiot?" I stand to leave. This is a total waste of time. Why bother trying to show I care? Clearly, I'm not welcomed or appreciated here.

I take a few steps, but Corrine jumps up and grabs my arm. "Please, Liora...don't go. Let's not fight. You're my only friend." I hear the pleading in her voice, and when I turn around, there are tears in the corner of her bruised eye. My heart softens, and I take a deep breath.

"Sorry," I mumble, shaking my head.

"Me too," she says. We go back and sit on the steps outside the trailer porch. I notice she hasn't invited me in, but I don't mind. I certainly don't want to run into her mother and that awful guy again. Best to be out here where I can keep an eye on things.

"Um, at the risk of making you upset again...can you please explain to me what you mean about Tristan's scars? Maybe I misunderstood you. Have you seen him with his s.h.i.+rt off or something?" Her eyes are wary, and a blush hints at her plump cheeks.

I let out an annoyed sigh-I can't help it. I don't want to be irritated with her, but why is she acting like a complete idiot? "No, I haven't seen him with his s.h.i.+rt off," I say as if I'm talking to a five-year-old child. "I am talking about the fact that half of his face is covered with wicked scars that go all the way down his neck. And maybe further, I don't know, because I haven't seen him with his s.h.i.+rt off."

Corrine looks at me flabbergasted as I continue speaking unnaturally slow. "And his sister Casandra has them too, only they're all over her arms and hands. We both stared at them their first day because it was so shocking..."

Corrine opens her mouth, then closes it again and puts her head down. She's quiet for several moments, then finally whispers, "Liora, did you smoke some pot today?"

"What?!"

"Or take some pills, maybe? You don't seem drunk..." She leans forward as if to check my eyes a little closer.

I jerk back. "What the h.e.l.l, Corrine? Why would you think that? If anything, you're the one who's acting like a dumba.s.s. Maybe you got a concussion and suffered some brain damage-"

"Stop!" she croaks out. "This is ridiculous! Tristan doesn't have any scars on his face, and neither does his sister! She's in my gym cla.s.s. I would know. We stared at them that first day because they were new. And really good-looking, like they were rich or something. Of course we'd stare. But not because someone has some scars. Neither one does. Tristan's skin is so smooth, it looks practically airbrushed. So yeah, call me a dumba.s.s, 'cause I have NO f.u.c.kING CLUE WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!"

With that she jumps up, goes inside the rickety trailer and slams the door.

"You okay over there?" Tristan slides his hand up my thigh as we cruise down the highway. I turn my attention from the whizzing scenery and stare at him. Yup. Big, fat scar. Plain as day. Corrine must be more blind than I thought. But why is my stomach so knotted and heavy?

"I'm fine. Just worried about Corrine."

"Ahh, she'll be fine in a few days. The flu is no picnic, but she'll survive."

I nod, returning my attention to the pa.s.sing countryside. I feel a little guilty not telling him the truth about Corrine. I know something has to be done, and I have to help her. But for some reason I don't want Tristan involved.

"Pull over," I say suddenly as we pa.s.s a decrepit-looking gas station.

"Here? In the middle of nowhere?"

"Yeah, go to that gas station back there. I...I have to pee. Please."

"Sure thing."

As he turns the Jag around, my mind races. He parks near the entrance, and through the store's dusty windows I see a woman. "Would you do me a huge favor?" I ask.

"Sure. What's up?"

"Will you buy me a large Sprite? I forgot my wallet. You can get it for me while I'm using the bathroom."

He shrugs. "Sure. Anything else?"

"Nope. Just the drink."

The middle aged woman hands me a key attached to a large wooden plank and points me toward the back. "Try not to touch anything in there, honey," she calls out after me.

The smell of the unis.e.x bathroom is nauseating, and I hold my breath as long as I can. Finally I breathe through my s.h.i.+rt, trying to m.u.f.fle the putrid odor. When I think enough time has pa.s.sed I push open the metal door, welcoming the fresh air.

I hand the key back to the cas.h.i.+er and see Tristan outside the window behind her, leaning against his car. "Did you see where my friend went? The one with the scars on his face?" I ask innocently.

"I didn't see no boy with no scars, honey, but that boy you came in with just stepped outside not a moment ago."

My heart thuds ominously in my chest, and I catch my breath. I inch closer to the counter and lock eyes with the woman. She seems normal. "Do you wear gla.s.ses?" I ask her.

"Nope. Perfect vision. Why?"

"Did you actually get a good look at him or were you just concentrating on ringing him up?"

She seems fl.u.s.tered for a moment as she pats her poufy brunette bob. "Well, I was doin' my job, but you can't blame a girl for looking, can you? He's quite an attractive young man. Probably the most handsome I've ever seen in these parts. He your boyfriend?"

"Are you telling me you got a really good look at his face and didn't see any scars? Nothing?"

She frowns and shakes her head. "Nothing but the Good Lord's image." She narrows her eyes and s.h.i.+fts them out the window to where Tristan is looking in. "You two up to something here? You playing some sorta game with me?"

"No, ma'am. Have a nice day," I say, and scoot out the door.

"I don't think I want to go back to school," I tell Tristan once we're back on the road. "I have a really bad headache. Can you just take me home?"

He glances at me from the corner of his eye. "I don't believe you."

My chest clenches, and I concentrate on sounding casual. "What do you mean? Why would I lie about that?" Lucky...Lucky, are you in there? Can you hear me? I think I might be in trouble...

Tristan lets out an easy laugh. "Oh, I know you better than you might think." He flashes me a wicked smile. "I know you're lying to me. And I know how freaked out you are right now."

Lucky wake up!

"Your friend. Corrine. She wasn't sick. She was hurt. And you're worried about her. So worried, I think, you gave yourself a headache. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I'll drop you off at your place. Just lead the way."

I could cry with relief. And once Tristan pulls away in his snazzy convertible, that's exactly what I do.

Chapter 14. Liora.

It's not even noon, and Tatiana will wonder why I'm home so early. Hopefully she'll understand once I tell her what happened with Corrine. But I don't quite know what to make of this thing with Tristan.

Instead of going into the cabin, I wander through the woods to my special spot. It's a small clearing by the creek beneath the cover of an ancient White Ash tree. As I lean against its corky bark and listen to the tinkling of the stream as it cascades gently past the glistening rocks, my mind starts ticking forward...and backward.

A slow fog is gradually lifting from my mind...but at the same time, I'm becoming more confused. Physically, I feel fine. Better than I've felt in a long while. Stronger. More alert. More focused. It's as if I can see things more clearly.

So why is it that when I look at Tristan, I no longer like what I see? And why can't anyone see his scars but me?

I don't know what this means, and I definitely need to ask Tatiana. I've had some of Lucky's weird abilities bleed over into my world before...and I know she has psychic powers. Is it possible the scars are going to happen to him in the future?

No, that's not it. He's already acknowledged them, as well as the ones his sister bears. So Tristan knows he has scars, he knows his sister has them. I can see them, and he knows I can see them. Corrine doesn't seem to be able to see them, and neither did the lady at the gas station.

What is going on?

And it's not just the scars that trouble me. It's a bunch of little things. Things that by themselves are somewhat odd, but when put all together form a pretty alarming picture. Kieron never returns, despite pledging his love for me. Tristan and his sister show up, and I fall for him in a way that admittedly feels strange now that I look back on it. I was so repulsed by him initially...when and why did that change?

Even Tatiana acts weird where he's involved. Like that day she thought I went to the mines with him...wait, did we go there? A hollow memory from deep inside fights to surface, but can't...like maybe I know something, but can't remember.

And Corrine. Why would she say those things? Is it really true? Or is she just upset because of what happened to her? And what am I going to do about that? I have to help her, somehow.

I shake my head and blink several times. My stomach flutters, causing my breath to catch. I stand up and pace around, hoping to shake off some of these nerves. I'm missing something important...something right in front of my face. I wish I could see what it is.

My stomach gives a funny little jostle again, and suddenly I know exactly what I need to do.

I need to go see Bones.

The twigs crunch under the weight of my steps as I wander aimlessly through the woods.

"Diablo... Where are you? Here, horsey, horsey," I call out, snapping my fingers several times. Where does that blasted animal stay, anyways? I've never seen any sort of stable for him, yet I know Lucky rides him every night. Maybe he lives in Dryndara and only comes out when she needs him? I hope not. If I'm to have any hope at all of talking to Bones before nightfall, I need Diablo to get me to a Portal. It's over ten miles away from my cabin...no way I'm walking that round-trip.

"Hor-sey! Here, Diablo!" I yell louder. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. Just the thought of Lucky's enormous h.e.l.lbeast coming for me is enough to make my knees literally shake. What am I supposed to do if he actually does come? I've never ridden Diablo before...or any horse for that matter.

I pace in circles, calling louder and louder. "Diablo! Lucky wants you to come here!" I shout. Maybe I should just start walking toward a Portal and see what happens. Maybe Bones will come to me.

I trudge in the direction we came from when Bones brought me back from Dryndara. After I've walked about half a mile, I hear a loud huff and a snort behind me.

I jump and spin around, then take several quick steps back from the ma.s.sive ebony beast and his glowing eyes of crimson. I stumble over a tree root, twisting my ankle, and let out a painful yelp as I land hard on my b.u.t.t.

The throbbing in my foot shoots like a hot poker up my leg. I know it's sprained. How am I ever going to make it home? Great. Now what do I do?

Diablo snorts again and paws the ground with a hoof the size of a dinner plate. He glares at me warily through his blood-red eyes. I take a deep breath and try to ignore my pain.

"Thanks for coming, Diablo. Lucky will be proud of you," I say bravely, brus.h.i.+ng off my palms and sitting up straight. "She'd want you to do this teeny tiny favor for me. I need you to take me to see Bones. Can you do that?"

The stallion lets out a dignified grunt and shakes his head around with a figure-eight motion.

"Is that a yes?" I ask, not sure if I want it to be or not.

Diablo gives a low whinny, then slowly bends his front two legs so his knees are touching the ground. His back is still so high up...but maybe I can reach it...

I stand and hobble over to him. Clutching his long, silky mane with both fists, I attempt with my good leg to propel my body over the enormous stallion's back. I miss by a mile, kick him in the flank with my achy foot, and promptly land on my back again, this time yelling more from frustration than from pain.

Dammit!

Clenching my fists into angry b.a.l.l.s I pound the soft dirt beside me. This whole idea is so stupid. Why in the world would I willingly return to Thiberoux? And why do I want to talk to Bones so badly? Even if I don't hate him as much as I used to, he's still one of them. Why do I even think he can help me? And why am I risking breaking my neck trying to get on this oversized horse from h.e.l.l? And how am I going to get home with this busted ankle?

I feel like such a pathetic loser sitting here in the middle of the woods, tears forming pools in my eyes. I give Diablo a pleading look. "What am I gonna do, big guy?" I groan, defeated.

He raises his nose high in the air, and looks down on me with one fiery eye.

"Please. I need your help," I whisper.

He takes a few steps back to me and lowers himself again, this time lowering his haunches as well so that his underbelly rests on the ground.

"Thanks," I say, now able to clear his expansive girth. When he begins to rise, I clutch his mane tightly with both fists, and squeeze my thighs together as tight as I possibly can. I hold my breath and lean forward, praying I don't fall off.

I manage to stay on, and once Diablo reaches his full height I feel a little better. This isn't so bad. I don't know what I was so afraid of.

"Okay, boy, I need you to take me to see Bones. You know where he is, right? Take me in his direction but DON'T RUN! Only walk. Okay? Can you do that? Go really, really slow. Okay?"

Diablo starts off at an easy plod into the thickets of the dense forest. I can see the well-worn path he's traveled numerous times with Lucky on his back, but still the trail is narrow, flanked with low-hanging branches, jutting tree roots and perilous jagged rocks. Once or twice I've been aware of this journey as Lucky and Diablo raced to Dryndara in pitch darkness. Even in the bright sunlight, going as slow as he's probably ever moved in his life, the path is nothing short of treacherous.

I feel Diablo's frustration at our slow pace, and I'm almost tempted to let him go a little faster. But as I eye the sharp branches and other hazards in our path, I resist the urge. How does Lucky manage to not get herself impaled every night?

Almost an hour later, I recognize the familiar surroundings. Somewhere around here should be the Portal. Diablo stops, raises his long snout in the air and releases an ear-splitting neigh.

"Come on, guy...you gotta take me inside Thiberoux," I say, giving him a light tap with my heels. He doesn't budge. Great. He takes me all this way just to stop at the last minute?

And then I remember. The Boumeaux. I need the black diamond in my possession to pa.s.s through the barrier separating the land of Dark-angels from the world of Man.

c.r.a.p c.r.a.p c.r.a.p!

I let out another frustrated scream, inexplicably devastated. I must speak with Bones today...it's now or never. I don't know why, but the urgency is almost overwhelming. But there's no way I can make another round-trip out here before the sun goes down.

"Bones!" I shout as loud as I can. "Bones, can you hear me? Bones!"

My voice strains against the silence of the forest, and Diablo echoes my cries with another high-pitched whinny.

I shout out his name several more times to no avail. There's no one out here for miles other than me and Diablo. And right now I can only pray that he knows how to get me back home to the cabin.